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softtdaisy · 1 year

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SAVIOR - PETER PARKER

DESCRIPTION I peter will always love you and protect you, specially from your new guy who seems to hate him

PAIRING I tasm!Peter Parker × fem!reader

WORD COUNT I 2,9k

A/N I i was watching Wednesday and I have the biggest crush on Xavier and there is this episode where he is the scars on his neck??? yep the inspo comes from here. I hope you will love this story ❤️

It was a quiet Friday night. The week was over, you’ve done all your homework for your uni classes and you were in front of your favorite tv show. Nothing could have prepared you for what was going to happen.

At first, you noticed a shadow behind your window. You thought it was just you being paranoid about living alone. You knew from a pretty good source that the city wasn’t as safe as they want to make it look. But when you gave it another look, you knew for sure that you didn’t hallucinate the first shadow. Your heart missed a beat and you promised that you were going to kill that stupid idiot if he wasn’t in a bad shape already.

“Peter!” you whispered loudly when you opened your window. And of course, your best friend gave you this sweet and flirty smile that only him can gave. It wasn’t the first time he was coming at your house late at night, oh hell no. But he always managed to scare the hell out of you. Which was super ironic considering he was wearing his spiderman suit, meaning he was supposed to save you from the scary thing outside. Not be one.

Peter put a hand through his hair before placing his elbow against your wall, looking like a model posing for a picture. “I know you miss me today, baby.” You could tell he had a pretty long day from his broken voice. You haven’t seen Peter at all today. You usually eat together at least one time a day but sometimes his missions keep occupied all day. But as soon as he can, Peter always managed to come see you. Even if it’s three in the morning and you’re already sleeping.

“I fucking hate you right now, Parker. Get in.” You heard him laugh while you got back in your apartment. When you turned around, he was already taking his suit off. Good things you always had some clothes for him here. There were some good things in dating your now best friend in the end.

You and Peter dated for a year, during your first year of high school. Maybe you were too young to understand how love was supposed to feel like. During the summer, you decided to break up to focus on your friendship. You kept saying you were soulmates and that you didn’t want a heartbreak to make you hate each other. You were jealous when Peter started to date Gwen during your last year. For the first time, you felt like Peter was slipping through your fingers. What if she was the one for him and you never had to live the best romance trope when you would both fall in love with each other again in a few years?

Because deep down, you always felt like you would get back with Peter one day. It was meant to be, you knew that. But the only question was when? Were you ready to wait your whole life just to feel Peter’s lips on yours again? To have his hands exploring your body like it was the most precious piece of art he ever got to touch? To his beautiful eyes looking at you and giving you all the love, you deserved? You kept thinking about that at night sometimes.

But even if Gwen left after high school for London, making her and Peter break up, there was still one cloud in the horizon: your best friend was New York favorite superhero. And let’s be honest, it wasn’t the best option to have peaceful relationship. Being Peter’s best friend was already threatening enough. He didn’t want to risk having you as his girlfriend and losing you.

And from this lack of attention and love, you started to give your heart to other. That’s how Spencer entered your life. More than a classmate, he became your friend from day one. It felt normal to start seeing each other when you realized you had so much in commons. You weren’t dating officially; you wouldn’t call him your boyfriend. But it was enough for your best friend.

And just like you were jealous of Gwen, Peter was terribly jealous of Spencer. You were not stupid, you knew he always managed to be occupied to avoid him when you proposed to go out together.

When you came back in the living room, Peter looked at you, frowning. A quite funny picture considering he was wearing only his boxer. A quite hot picture too, you had to admit. “You’re alone, right?”

“No, my clients of the night are waiting in the bedroom. You want to participate, Parker?” you said with a flirty smile. That was when you realized your outfit wasn’t the most appropriate to welcome someone at home. Of course, it was only a pajama but your short ride up and Peter could easily see your thighs entirely if he wanted to. Nothing he never saw but still. So, you tried to pull it down discretely after throwing him some clothes.

“No. I meant, no Spencer tonight?”

Beyond being jealous of him, Peter was sure Spencer wasn’t sincere. As soon as he met him, Peter kept saying that something wasn’t right with Spencer and that he must be hiding something. Of course, you believed his gut and tried to see what could be wrong with your partner. Turns out nothing was, and you stopped looking for clues that didn’t exist. Peter wasn’t happy with your decision. But he accepted it and kept looking for something individually.

“Nope.” You saw the way Peter’s look changed with just this single word. Nobody was there. And no one would come. It was just you. And him. If you wanted to. He started to make some step towards you, still in his underwear while your hands were still on your short. “No, Spencer.” You finished answering right when Peter was just a few millimeters away from your face.

You could feel his breath against your lips, and you were dying to taste them again. Peter’s eyes couldn’t leave you. They screamed attraction and desire. He wanted to do so many things to you. “Maybe tonight is the night we can try some things again then…” he whispered, bringing a hand to your cheek. You loved the way his thumb was brushing your skin so slowly it became sensual. Especially when it moved slowly to your mouth, and he started caressing your lips.

That was how you knew Peter would always be the one. You were ready to throw everything away for one kiss. And that was you did when you put your arms around his neck to bring him closer and close the gap. Peter didn’t waste any second and put his arms above your butt to lift you up. Your back was now against the wall, your legs around his waist and your lips lost against his. Maybe it was the waiting that made the kiss so good. Or you both just got better.

When you caressed his back, you felt some big scars and immediately looked at it. You couldn’t contain the gasp that escape your lips when you noticed those three massive wounds. “Oh my god Peter, what happened?” you asked. But he was too busy kissing your neck to answer you. And you almost gave up from the way his lips felt against your skin. Almost. “Peter. Parker.” You said, hitting him behind his head after each name. Which made him sigh, obviously.

“I got attacked tonight. That’s why I was there in the first place before your legs seduce me.” He offered you his magic smile before giving you a kiss. “Let’s take care of that after, ok? I need to take care of that first.” He said, getting back to the kiss. His hands started to lift your shirt and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to argument more.

Nothing could have made you stop kissing Peter right now. Not when you could feel him growing in his underwear and his skin getting hotter from all the desire, he had for you. No. Nothing.

Except one thing.

Three knocks on your door. “[y/n], it’s me. Spencer.”

You didn’t expect him to come. And Peter could tell by your expression. Spencer knew you were alone tonight, and it wasn’t that surprising that he would come here to see you. And it wasn’t like you could lie about your presence: everyone could see the lights from your window.

You quickly left Peter’s arms and pushed towards your bedroom. “Go hide there. I’ll make him leave.”

“Hide your bedroom? While your boyfriend is here? Damn, [y/n] that sounds like a strange way to propose a threesome.” He excepted the hit on his arm when he talked, but he still managed to laugh about it. “Parker!” you groaned before finally pushing in your bedroom for good.

You put a hand in your head, trying to look at least a little presentable when you opened the door. “Hey you.” You used this innocent tone you always have when you’re hiding something. Like the boy you were kissing seconds ago hiding in your bedroom.

“I won’t bother you for long, I just wanted to check on you.” You felt bad for Spencer. He was so sweet for coming here late just to make sure you were alright. And when he kissed you softly, your mind couldn’t focus on anything else than Peter’s lips. And how better they tasted.

You let Spencer come inside, offering him a drink while he was telling you about his night with his friends. He gave you names that you didn’t remember hearing in the past. Or maybe you weren’t paying much attention. And clearly, you weren’t either now. Otherwise, you would haven notice immediately when he stopped talking.

It wasn’t after a few seconds of you whispering for yourself that you noted the silence in the room. “Spence?” you asked, frowning and coming back to the living room.

To see him with holding the one thing you almost forgot was there in the first place. To your defense, you tended to forgot Peter was Spiderman for your own good. It was way too stressful and you knew that if someone started to say mean thing about him you would defend him. Like a true best friend. So yeah, you didn’t expect to see Spencer holding the Spiderman’s suit in his hand.

“What’s this?” he asked, like it wasn’t obvious. And you wondered why you should feel guilty since you were one of the few people who knew about Spiderman’s identity.

“A suit. For…a costume party.”

You didn’t think this would work out perfectly. You didn’t think Spencer was stupid enough to believe you blindly. But you didn’t think he would get that mad.

“You really think I’m a fucking idiot?” You never heard get mad before. But it wasn’t the only reason you felt in danger. There was something different here. You tried to walk away but stumble on your table and ended up on your butt. Did it hurt? Yes. But not as much as realizing you’ve been wrong about someone for so long. “Where is he?”

You wanted to play dumb, asked who he was talking about. But he didn’t give you the time. “Where is Parker!” he yelled, throwing your vase and the flowers bouquet inside right on the floor. You protected your face like you were going to be hit. But it got worse. Because you didn’t get hurt, no. Because when you looked back at Spencer, he wasn’t there anymore. Instead, there was a kind of monster mixed with a werewolf standing in the middle of your living room.

And for the first time, you understood why Peter said being with him could be that dangerous.

“Tell me where he is.” At each word, Spencer was taking a new step to you. And right before he was facing you, you heard your door opening in your back. You had no idea if you should be relieved to know Peter was there to save you. Or scared that in the end, he was the person Spencer was looking for.

“I knew your ugly face reminded me of someone when I saw you tonight.” You heard Peter say. You turned your head and wasn’t surprised to see him in his suit, compared to Spencer who seemed to confuse. A few months ago, Peter asked if he could keep one here in case something happen, and he can’t get back to his place. You hide it in your wardrobe, behind all your old clothes. You were glad that he never had to use it, it meant he was always in control. But tonight, he didn’t have another option. You couldn’t help but think it was because of you.

“But I should have known it was you when you were too stupid to end me down there.” And that’s when it clicked.

“You tried to kill Peter?” you asked. Or reproached him, more exactly. Which resulted in you being grabbed by the throat. You could feel his claws almost piercing your skin and the tears growing in your eyes from the pain.

“Yes, I tried to kill your perfect stupid best friend that is so love with you.” His voice was nothing like the one you used to hear. Spencer had this soft deep voice that you loved. Now it had this deeper almost incomprehensible tone that you hated. The way the word love sounded in his mouth was disgusting and it was even more awful to think he used to talk about Peter.

You could feel Peter moving in your back which resulted in Spencer increasing his grip around your throat and you having difficulties to breath correctly. “Let her go. This is between me and you.” But of course, Spencer just laughed at Peter’s request. You didn’t except more from the bad guy.

“That would be too easy, Parker.” You could feel yourself getting higher, your head almost touching your ceiling. To say you were scared would be a euphemism. You wished you could back to when you were peacefully kissing Peter. “You had the city; I had the girl. Let’s make a deal.”

You couldn’t see Peter’s face, neither could Spencer with his mask on. He had never been more anxious that he was right now. The idea of you getting hurt, or worse, losing you was killing him slowly. If he wasn’t sure about his feelings for you, now he was. Because he was ready to sacrifice every single thing just to make sure you were alright. “Let her go.” He repeated. “I don’t fucking care about anything else, just let [y/n] go.”

“Peter, no…” but your voice died in a sigh when Spencer squeezed your throat so hard that you couldn’t breathe. You closed your eyes to endure the pain.

Next thing you knew, you were in Peter’s arms, laying in the middle of your living room. You jumped. You immediately imagined the worst scenario. Did Spencer killed Peter and left you with him there? From the mess you could see, something bad happened while you were unconscious. And you couldn’t see Spencer, which, you thought meant that he had win. It wasn’t until you felt Peter’s hand on your shoulder that you realize things were maybe not that bad.

“He’s gone.” He simply said. You turned your head to look at him and put a hand on your mouth to contain a scream. Peter had scratches on his face and neck, and you could easily tell he had some on his body too. You slowly brought your hand to his face, and he cuddled against it. “He won’t be a problem anymore, I promise.”

Peter told you briefly what happened after you lost conscious. Spencer threw you on the floor, like you weren’t important anymore. While Peter checked on you, Spencer started attacking him and that’s how the fight started. They ended up on your rooftop and Peter quickly understood that he would be a fight for their life. He hated that. Peter almost thought people deserved redemption or, at least, punishment and not death. But he had a hard time believing in this for Spencer. Then he jumped on Peter. And after he avoided him, Peter didn’t get the chance to catch him before he fell. “I have no idea how he managed to, but he wasn’t dead after this fall.” He sighed, brushing your hair slowly. “The cops were down there so I explained to them how he had attacked a girl living there and I saved her life. They took him and… well, I don’t care what happen next for him.”

This was a lot to accept and the only reaction you had was to hold Peter tightly. You almost lost him tonight, for good. And there were no way you were going to live another day in this crazy life without having him as your boyfriend. You were going to kiss him when he took your face between his hands. “Please, the next time you try to forget about me, don’t take a werewolf. This shit hurts.” He complained, pouting.

You laughed and hit his arm. “There won’t be a next time, as long as you don’t make a mistake Parker.”

“I’ll be careful about that.” He replied before finally letting you kiss him. Ready to finally end the night the way you were supposed to at the beginning.

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liz-allyn · 2 years

Note

Feeling greedy for your talents 📸 —v 🌻 mwah!

Oooh, thank you, Spicy @spidervee. You know what I'm greedy for? This beautiful AG right here.

Look at that baby face! Also wtf is he doing in this photo shoot? And who cares—look at his ARMS.

The more I stare at this picture, the more it becomes a different thing. It gets more complex with time. Like, it starts off as soft, innocent Peter Parker, but then there's something just slightly sinister in that look? So I'm gonna call this Workplace Rival!Peter.

enemies to lovers and something else sorta dark and nasty if you stare too hard at it, under the cut. go away if you're under 18 or you're too young to remember Phil of the Future on the Disney Channel.

Every war begins when one side fires a shot. In the case of the battle between you and Peter Parker, he’d admit that he’d taken the first one. It wasn’t his intention, but he struck a nerve.

It was during a staff meeting at The Daily Bugle. Since finally getting the staff photographer job, this was one more scheduled task that Peter had to juggle.

On that fateful morning, he’d rushed into the meeting already in progress, ducking into the back and hoping to avoid J.J’s steel gaze. They were discussing what was going to be in Sunday’s issue. There was more room for feature stories and hot-topic debates. The juicier, the better. (And more profitable, since J.J. was pleased to put them behind a digital paywall).

That’s when Peter heard you chime in. “I’m interviewing Spider-Man,” you announced, to pen drops and quiet gasps in the pit.

You—the cute little thing—bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, recently graduated top of your class at ESU’s journalism school. First tasked by Jonah to write an editorial calling for Spider-Man’s immediate arrest and for the public to stop coddling him. You huffed with disappointment at your assignment but still wrote a grand slam article. You pointed out the hypocrisy of local politicians who turn a blind eye to Spider-Man’s illegal vigilantism but refuse to decriminalize marijuana. Spider-Man gets a free pass while the police continue to sweep through impoverished neighborhoods and single-out minority populations as if they were hunting Jack the Ripper.

You.

You made a valid point.

And just like that, you were the newest writer for The Daily Bugle.

“Spider-Man’s Public Enemy Number One” Jonah proudly called you.

You kept on writing the same anti-Spider-Man bullshit. It started to get a little far-fetched.

No, Spider-Man was not secretly on the police’s payroll (unfortunately).

No, Spider-Man did not take kickbacks from the Mayor (he just doesn’t have enough evidence gathered yet to bring him down.)

No, Spider-Man does not torture chickens (that was a fucking accident and a misunderstanding and Peter would appreciate it if Mr. Cluck’s Chicken Shack would stop appropriating his IP in their ads to sell chicken sandwiches).

Jonah asked, and you delivered.

Peter felt sorry for you, honestly. It must be hard being smart, and feisty, and adorable, and elbowing your way past senior writers to the front page. Despite how annoying it was to hear your articles constantly quoted on morning news talk shows. He felt genuinely sorry.

Until you turned out to be a little liar.

“Interview?” Another writer scoffed in disbelief. “With Spider-Man?”

Everyone turned to you, stunned. Waiting. As did Peter.

“Of course,” you stated with resolve.

Jonah’s face was lit up like a Christmas tree. Peter’s brain was melting. “Trash Sunday’s front page! Wait—when do you have this interview?”

“Um,” you replied, with the slightest bit of hesitation, “Friday night.”

“Trash Saturday’s front page!”

“Spider-Man wouldn’t interview you,” Peter blurted out. It was like a record screeching to a halt. All eyes turned to Peter, including yours. Burning with anger.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you sneered.

It was a standoff. Peter immediately regretted opening his mouth. But it was done. “Well, y’know… I know the guy, and—”

You bit off. “You take pictures of him for money.”

“Well, yeah, but I’m… I’m also sorta—I know ‘em pretty well by now, and—”

“Are you his personal assistant, too?” you coldly replied. “Do you manage his appointments? Do you sync calendars, pick up his suit from the cleaners, and get him soy lattes?”

“Uh… I…” Peter didn’t know how to respond to that. Except that he was an almond milk kind of guy. He decided against adding that.

“Don’t worry about my leads,” you said, ending the conversation. The public part, anyway.

It was after the meeting when you dragged him into an empty cubicle and whispered a threat through gritted teeth. “Don’t you ever call me out like that in front of our colleagues again, do you hear me?”

“I’m just surprised, s’all,” Peter defended, keeping his voice low. “He always told me he’s weird around reporters. Considering how much shit you give ‘em, I’d think you’d be the last person he’d wanna talk to.”

“I disagree,” you shot back. “I think he’d welcome the discourse. Unless he’s a coward.”

His eyes flashed angrily. “Look, I know you’d love to build your whole career on his back,” he sneered, “you should reconsider your occupation if you have to lie about it.”

Your face turned red. “A liar? Really?”

“Yeah, s’what I said. I call ’fake news.’”

“That’s rich coming from you, Parker.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, considering that you’ve been getting paid by the Bugle to lie about your photos for years!”

His heart skipped a beat. Suddenly wary. “Wha-what are you talkin’ about?”

“I checked the metadata on the last images you sent,” you sneered. “That bank robbery on Columbus? There’s no way that you could’ve taken those photos from the ground, with those settings, milliseconds apart. That means only one thing.”

Peter’s eyes went wide.

“Spider-Man took those photos of himself, and for some reason, he’s letting you take all the credit!”

Peter swallowed thickly to silence his sigh of relief.

“I bet it’s not so bad getting cash for your little charade!” You shoved your finger into his shoulder. “Must make you so popular with the ladies, being ‘friends with Spider-Man.’”

The lump in his throat bobbed. But that was all the evidence that you needed to know that you’d struck a nerve.

You glared at him. “How about this? Stay out of my way, Parker. And your secret’s safe with me.” You marched off, leaving a burning trail in your wake.

And that’s how the war escalated. That’s when his rivalry became an obsession. You were checking his metadata? (He can’t believe he forgot to wipe it on export.) Are you insane? What are you, a stalker?

Two could play at that game.

By Friday, you were visibly stressed, although you were an expert at not showing it. Peter could hear it in your heart from across the room.

By contrast, he was as relaxed as he’d ever been. Maybe a little excited, even.

Peter heard a lot of things around the office. Gossip. Rumors. Too much personal information.

Once he’d heard Ned talking about the details of the Bugle’s IT security and filtering system. Of course, Jonah would trust the cybersecurity of one of the most controversial publications in country... to one guy, in a chair. When asked directly, Ned filled Peter’s ear with tons of information about how the system worked and could monitor any computer connected to the wifi. All you needed was the IP address.

With this valuable information, Peter learned three things.

One. You were lying about having an interview with Spider-Man. He wasn’t exactly sure how you were going to get out of that one without throwing yourself off the Brooklyn Bridge. But Peter did see the email in your inbox about Jonah finally letting you take on different stories in addition to writing about Spider-Man, if you delivered a sold-out edition.

The motive, he could understand.

Two. Using the Bugle’s internet safety system (and Ned’s borrowed login), he was able to read your every keystroke. He could watch you through the webcam. He could even take control of your computer. Peter felt like a kid watching you freak out as the cursor on your screen started moving of its own accord as you typed in the middle of a paragraph. Your cursor pulled up a note, and the blinking line typed out a message to you.

TONIGHT. 11:30 PM. COME ALONE.

- YOUR FRIENDLY, NEIGHBORHOOD PUBLIC ENEMY, SPIDER-MAN

Your face was priceless. You jumped up out of your chair and started looking left and right, with no idea that the messenger wasn’t even in the room.

The message on screen vanished, and a set of numbers appeared instead. Coordinates. You grabbed a sticky note and started scribbling frantically. Once he was satisfied that you had them down, the note was deleted and you had control of your computer again.

Peter knew you were smart, but you were also unable to turn down a challenge. You wanted to be a writer—a good one, and you’d do anything to be taken seriously. At least that’s what you’d say when you’d text that boring guy you were dating—Peter could figure out your phone’s IP address too. He was pretty sure that it wasn’t going to last long between you and boring man. And that led him to his third discovery.

Three. You were a great writer.

At 11:00 PM, you were pacing a construction site anxiously. You checked the coordinates again and again, but they led you to an unfinished development of skyrise condominiums. The skeleton of the building soared into the sky at least 60 stories. A building without walls, the framework left exposed to high winds.

You thought this had to be a joke. You were seconds from turning back and going home when on your third lap around the block, you noticed the lock which secured the gate was broken. The gate swayed in the wind, chain ripped apart and discarded on the ground. On the gate was a lined sheet of paper with scribbled handwriting.

47TH FLOOR.

The note was fixed to the gate by webs.

A chill went down your spine. He wanted you to go up the elevator to the 47th floor. Of a building that hadn't been built yet. You stood at the cracked-open gate, bouncing on your toes, weighing your ambition versus your fear of heights. You bit your lip and tip-toed inside.

On your way up the lift, you prayed that 47 was one of the floors that was finished. It wasn’t. And once you timidly stepped out of the elevator shaft, you spotted the masked, red-and-blue figure leaning carelessly across a steel beam.

You couldn’t believe your eyes. Spider-Man in the flesh, with arms pillowing his head, and nothing else but air beneath him and the unforgiving ground. You stopped in your tracks.

“I honestly wasn’t sure if you’d go through with it,” he greeted you casually. “I was worried. I’d hate to miss an opportunity to meet my favorite writer.”

There was a slight chill in his tone. He could hear the way you gulped, probably realizing just how stupid this idea was.

“Don’t worry, love,” he sat up straight and came to a stand on the beam. With a leap, he forward-flipped onto the exposed subflooring, landing with a thud. “I’m not planning on throwing you off the building,” he jested. “It would look a little suspicious.”

Your shoulders released some tension, but only a bit. “You... how...? How did you....?”

“Not so good with words now, are ya?” Spider-Man replied, sauntering closer to you. You were separated by the empty floorspace, but your feet were plastered to the ground by fear. “Heard you had a big interview with Spider-Man tonight. Hope you don’t mind if I join?”

You stared at him with wide eyes. “I... I’m... I didn’t...” You gulped again. “I-I tried to find you. I even looked through old photos at the Bugle for hours, trying to look for any clue—”

“So, if I didn’t show, you were just gonna... make the rest up?” He crossed his arms, leaning his weight on one hip.

“I-I’m sorry,” you blushed, genuinely. “I would’ve... I would’ve been nice. Respectful. Um, I wouldn’t have written anything, uh...” A breeze threatened to blow you over, and you caught yourself on a support beam. Squeezing your eyes shut, you continued with a tone of attrition. “I just— I-I didn’t think I’d get to actually meet you.”

Your hands were shaking. He remained a statue, gazing you with that expressionless mask. “No harm, no foul.” You watched him stroll to a stack of plywood as he hopped up on it to sit. “So let’s do this. I know you’ve got burning questions.”

You blinked in confusion, as if you’d forgotten what you were there to do. In a daze, you reached into your bag, pulling out a recorder. One that Spider-Man snapped out of your grasp with a line of webbing. You watched it crumple like an empty can as he crushed it mercilessly in his palm.

“Off the record,” he stated, unphased by the vandalism of your property. The recorder clattered to the floor and your eyes followed it down. “If it’s no difference to you, I already know what you’re going to ask.”

You glanced up at him, puzzled. He lifted a gloved hand and began counting on his long fingers.

“Early 30s... Leo... Bi, and... honestly, it depends? I like being able to look into your eyes, that raw connection, y’know? But there’s something about doggy style that just... does it for me.”

Your brow furrowed, face heating up.

He pointed directly at you, “You nailed one thing, though. I’m definitely a giver. And I’m proud of that. Although I never necessarily came while eating someone out before.” Your jaw fell open as he tilted his head playfully, a lighthearted smirk in his voice. “Not yet, at least. Now. Do you want to take off your clothes, or should I just rip them off with my ‘rigid, gloved hands’?”

Your heart skipped for so long, he was certain that you died in that moment. Luckily, you roared back to life, a stuttering, babbling, frenetic ball of confusion.

“Oh, I’m sorry, which publication is this for?” he said with a chuckle. You were dumbstruck, unable to form words. “This is for your Spider-Man blog, right?”

In that moment, you did die. Every muscle in your body seized. Your breath caught in your throat. The horror on your face was absolutely delicious.

Peter knew that you were a much better writer than anyone gave you credit for. He’d spent the week monitoring your keystrokes and tracking your URLs. Ned told him that the system is designed only to catch obviously problematic URLs, and even then he only chooses to investigate half of them.

“Like, if you’re looking at PornTube from your work computer, obviously—that’s stupid and you’re gonna get caught. It’s the other sites, that are less obvious that, honestly sometimes it’s better just to let it slide. It becomes a whole thing,” Ned explained. “Because then, I’m having to go through Dennis from Accounting’s whole computer history for like, a year... make copies of his hard drive... figure out why he keeps typing the words ‘foot,’ ‘feet,’ ‘toe,’ and ‘toenail’ into his computer 70% of the time, and trust me... it’s better not to know.”

“What about a blog?” Peter asked, purposefully.

“Like Tumblr?” Ned scoffed. “Yeah, honestly, I’d let that be.”

“That is you, right?” Spider-Man asked you knowingly, with a cheshire grin hidden behind his mask. “You’re TheBlackCatxxx69.” Your eyes were so wide they could’ve swallowed the island of Manhattan. “You’re the one who writes all that Spider-Man erotica?”

Your brow furrowed, automatically shaking your head. “Uh.... I....?”

“You’ve got quite the library. I’m impressed. Is this for Sinful Sunday or Thursday Thots?”

“I-I... don’t.... I don’t know...”

He was on his feet in moments, stalking toward you. “You mean you haven’t written dozens of tales about Spider-Man webbing you up and making you come on his fingers and on his... or, my tongue? You haven’t explicitly described in every juicy detail what it would be like to have my cock splitting you open on a rooftop?”

Every sentence came out darker and deeper than the last, and yet his voice was softer than a feather across your skin.

“You mean you don’t write naughty stories about being Daddy’s Good Girl while I sneak into your room and steal your innocence away?”

Peter stopped just inches from you, waiting for you to breathe again. You looked like you were going to pass out. Or drool. Both. He waited. Watched. Until your eyes got red. He could smell the salt of your tears even though you refused to let them fall. Your blood was pumping. Furiously.

“Is this your idea of teaching me a lesson?” you whispered bitterly. You spun on your heel, legs wobbly, as you moved back towards the elevator.

“Hey!” Peter called after you.

You kept your eyes on the ground to keep from seeing the skyline. Or seeing anything at all. “I’ll stop writing about you,” you said, crossing the threshold of the elevator doors. "You win."

Your weight was pulled from your feet with the sound of a thwip. With a shriek, you were launched backward. He pulled you into his arms. You struggled against him, thrashing until he held you steady, your back to his chest.

He could feel your pulse thrumming beneath his hands. The rage you felt wasn’t really directed at him, and you knew it. It was meant for you.

“I wasn’t trying to embarrass you,” he replied, extending an olive branch. He sounded so gentle compared to his sadistic vitriol moments before.

You seethed. “So what is this? Payback? Blackmail? To get me to stop writing?” You felt like you were going to erupt, like a stick of dynamite in his hold. He heard you huff and pictured the pout on your face. You attempted to jerk away again, until he spun you around and pulled you up against his torso.

“Keep writing,” he replied, with genuineness in his voice. “You’re good at it. Just try to remember that you and I are on the same side? We’re both trying our best to fix things.” It was the sincerity in his voice that got to you. He was asking, not threatening. “Just think about maybe writing the truth once in a while?”

You scowled, about to take offense again, put paused before you blew up. You noted how your chest heaved against his. The proximity between you. His fingers gripped your upper arms, tight enough to leave a small mark. Your eyes locked on the emblem of his suit and the rigid muscles rippling beneath. You gazed around at the empty floor, a realization settling over you.

Your eyes landed on a pair of sawhorses with a length of wood laid across. The board was secured to the bases with webbing. This was... familiar. All that was missing from the scene was you—your writhing, mewling, howling, naked form.

“The construction worker request from two weeks back,” Peter explained. You stared up at him, jaw agape. “I figured we could start there?”

You pulled away from him and took a step backward, looking up in horror. But was it really horror? Peter waited. You considered.

The longest pause settled over you.

“I... I’m... seeing someone,” you replied, lifting your chin slightly.

Peter scoffed. “He doesn’t know about your blog.”

Your cheeks flushed and your brow furrowed. “What makes you think that?”

He snickered beneath the mask. “Because he doesn’t make you come like I do.”

A/N: Hey, now, there's a PART TWO.

Show your support for fandom writers! Cheer us on with a comment and/or reblog! And thank you 💜

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jjsmaybank20 · 1 year

Note

could you do andrew garfield x reader that you got invite to your friend wedding, lots of people coming, you bump into someone, you apologize, he just want to tell reader that he could sit with you in church, after that you two talk in reception, he was glad to have someone like reader

(hope you will write it, thanks and have a good day)

Happy Little Accident

Andrew Garfield x GN!Reader (Platonic)

Summary: You remenice on your friendship with the wonderful Andrew Garfield.

Warnings: Reader wears suits, referred to once as man

Word Count: 958

A/N: For this, just pretend that Jesse Eisenberg got married in 2010. Also, italics are memories.

navigation celebrities (platonic) masterlist

---

Usually you weren’t a fan of interviews. But this one was more fun than the rest. Not only were you being interviewed by Jimmy Fallon, who always made interviews fun, but your best friend, Andrew Garfield, was getting interviewed with you.

You were in your dressing room when a stage hand came in and told you that you were on stage in 5 minutes. You walk to the side before going out when Jimmy calls your name.

Waving, you walk on stage and shake hands with the man. Then, Jimmy calls out Andrew. You stand up so you can give the man a hug.

Once you are both settled in, and the crowd has settled down, Jimmy starts. “Y/N, dashing as always. You’re rocking your suit better than Andrew is!”

You laugh at that before replying, “Always have, always will.” Andrew slaps your arm in retaliation.

“So! First off, we know you guys are in your 7th movie together! Holy cow! This one is a little film called Spiderman: No Way Home. Now I have to ask, how long have you guys known each other?”

You huff and go to reply before Andrew sighs and says, “Wow. It’s been a while now, hasn’t it. We met in 2010, so…” You answer at his pause.

“We’ve been friends for about 14 years now. Damn, we’re old.” Andrew nods while grinning.

“So how did you two meet? Because you weren’t in The Social Network, were you? That came out in 2010.” Jimmy asks, sounding genuinely intrigued.

You thought back to when you first met your now best friend.

14 years ago…

You normally weren’t this clumsy, but this wedding was absolutely packed. While you walk backwards, you apologize to the person who you had just bumped into.

Just as you turn around, you bump into a very tall, lanky man. He starts to fall, but you quickly reach out to grab him.

“Thank you so much. I would be so embarrassed if I fell on my arse in front of all of these people.” The man says in a clipped British accent. “I’m Andrew.”

“I am so sorry for bumping into you! I’m Y/N. Can I buy you a drink as an apology?” You realize you are still holding onto his arm. You let go, before extending your hand for a handshake.

He grins at you before reciprocating. “I might just take you up on that offer. Also, so sorry, but could I sit with you? I honestly don’t know anyone here except for the groom.”

You nod and smile at him, noting the relief on his face. “How do you know Jesse?” You inquire.

“Well, I’m an actor. We did The Social Network together, and got pretty close on set. He invited me, and I think he forgot that he’s the only one I know here.”

You laugh before stating, “Yeah, that sounds like Jesse. Well now you also know me. C’mon, let's go find our seats so Jesse’s Grandmother doesn’t pick on me wearing a suit like she always does.”

He chuckles at that before following you into the church.

---

After the ceremony, you walk with Andrew to the reception, getting to know each other better. You tell him that you also act, and have been in a few movies.

He asks if that’s how you know Jesse, but you tell him that you actually have known each other since you guys were children.

You sit down at the bar and start telling Andrew embarrassing stories about Jesse from when you guys were kids. Suddenly, you feel someone practically pounce on your back.

“There he is! Man of the hour! Congratulations, dude.” You say while clapping your childhood friend on the back.

He exhales before excitedly saying, “I’m married, Y/L/N! This is crazy.” Then he notices Andrew seated next to you. “Ah! I’m glad you met Andrew. So sorry, Garfield, I forgot that I’m probably the only person you know here.”

You and Andrew share a look before bursting out laughing. That’s exactly what you knew he would say. Jesse looks at you two, super confused. “What? What’d I say?” You shake your head, muttering “nothing”, wiping tears from your eyes.

Jesse shakes his head in amusement before wandering off to greet his other guests. When you and Andrew finally calm down, you go back to talking about your lives. Losing track of time, you guys talk for hours, truly cementing your friendship when you exchange numbers.

---

“So you guys are friends because Y/N Y/L/N knocked Andrew Garfield over, and because Jesse Eisenberg forgot that Andrew didn’t know anyone at his wedding?” Jimmy asks incredulously.

You nod, realizing how stupid the story of how you met was. “We truly became friends when we had one of those talks that went really deep. Like we were talking about our traumas and shit.” You realize you cursed and quickly cover your mouth.

Andrew laughs at you before looking at you softly. “I’m really glad I met you though. I don’t know what I would do without you. I would definitely have not made it this far.”

The audience awws and you smile at the man next to you. “Man, you can’t make me cry on TV. I have an image to uphold. But seriously, same man. I wouldn’t have made it through the pandemic without you. I love you, dude.”

“I love you too, man.” Glancing out at the audience, you realize that without the man next to you who you consider more a brother than a friend, there would be no way that you would be where you are today.

You couldn’t be happier that you knocked Andrew over, because if you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have had this beautiful 14-year friendship.

---

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jahayla-parker · 2 years

Note

Hi!

I love your fics and I have one for Peter if that's alright??

Peter, being the superhero that he is, is constantly running late to school. Eventually, the headmaster gets sick of it and punishes Peter (by forcing him to audition for the school musical)

Peter hates the idea at first, but he has no choice and is forced to do it. The headmaster tells him that his best friend (the reader) is also auditioning.

When Peter eventually finds her, he asks her what musical they're doing. She tells him it's Beauty and the Beast. She's very excited about Peter auditioning.

When auditions come around, everyone is very shocked at how good Peters voice is, and the teacher gives him the role of the Beast (the reader of course getting the role of Belle)

As rehearsals go on, Peter slowly starts to fall for the reader. On opening night, Peter confesses to the reader that he likes her and they kiss. (Maybe throw in them rehearsing the ballroom scene as well?)

Hope you get better soon! 🙏

Worth The Embarrassment and Disappointment: Peter Parker x Reader

Hi my little lovely anon! Sorry this took so long to post, I hit a slump after getting sick but I am back now!

Thank you for requesting this, I hope you like it! Also, I am writing this from Peter's POV since I think given how it transpires it would be best that way; hope that's okay!

Also, I am leaving this without a photo as I want it to be a neutral Peter not a specific Tom!Peter or Andrew!Peter only, but picture whoever you'd like!

For that reason, P/B/F is referenced which is just Peter's best friend, so that can be Ned, Harry, etc.

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Peter's P.O.V.:

"Mr. Parker, this is your third tardy this week alone!" Mrs. Mcarthy, our headmaster, scolds, staring at me as I fidget in my seat across from her. I was out late last night for patrol and overslept again. I sigh and nod, knowing there is nothing I can say to fix it. "Is something going on at home?" she asks, leaning back in her desk chair as her eyes fall to the pile of papers on her desk in between us. "No ma'am" I quickly utter, not wanting the school to judge May for my mistakes. "Hmm. Shall I call your aunt and notify her as to how much school you've been missing?" she asks, marking something on her notepad.

"No!" I panic, "I mean, no ma'am. May is very busy as is. I promise to make up any homework and tests I missed!". May knows about patrol but our deal was that if I patrolled on a school night that it would not interfere with my attendance or academic performance the next day. Headmaster Mcarthy taps her pen on her desk a few times as she seems to ponder what to do. Maybe I could- "Alright Mr. Parker. I will make you a deal. If you catch up on any missed assignments and do one other thing, I will not notify your aunt and will not let this impact your attendance record," she says, correcting her posture.

"Absolutely! Thank you Ma'am" I say, feeling much less anxious. "Oh, what is the other thing?" I ask as I recall there was more to the bargain. "You will be auditioning for the school musical" she smiles. I feel my stomach drop, "what?!". "Yes, the drama department has notified me they are worried not many will audition this year as a" she begins, looking down at her notes for a moment "Mr. Thompson, has been going around spreading rumors about last year's lead". Great, even more of a reason to not want to do this. "Mrs. Mcarthy, with all due respect-" I begin to argue, but she cuts me off with a wave of her hand. "This is not up for debate Mr. Parker. If you do not show up to auditions, or do not accept the role given to you after auditions, the tardies will remain on your record and your aunt will be notified" she states. I nod and sigh softly. However, she seems to hear it, "cheer up boy, your best friend Y/N, is said to be auditioning this year". For some unknown reason, I can't help but smile softly at that information. Probably because at least I won't suffer alone in this. I mutter a thank you as I grab my bag to rush out. I need to leave before she tries to add anything else to my punishment.

"Woah Parker, no need to run! I'm sure you'll make it to the bathroom in time this time" I hear Flash laugh as I dart into the hall. I groan, he will never let me live that down. A few weeks ago I was running late, again, I know, and knocked into a girl who had an open water bottle in her hands... needless to say it spilled when I crashed into her and unfortunately for me soaked the front of my clothes. It was clear it was not pee as it was all the way to my chest but of course, Flash did not care about that as long as it made me embarrassed. "Shut it Flash, we all know that was water" someone yells back, causing me to smile knowing it to be Y/N. "We don't know that Y/N" Flash argues, glaring across the hall. I turn my attention to where he is staring and smile as I make eye contact with her. "Yes we do" she says, rolling her eyes, "besides, do we really want to talk about people having accidents?" she asks raising an eyebrow as she looks over at him. "Hey! You would have too if you had just met Spider-Man!" he defends, causing me to bite my lip in order to not start laughing. Y/N doesn't bother though and shakes her head as she laughs, "I'm not the one with a huge crush on Spider-Man, I think I'd be fine" she smirks as she walks towards me. The smile on my face wavers slightly. I am not sure why, given I am obviously aware she knows I am Spider-Man and therefore know she did not freak out about meeting Spider-Man the way Flash did when he saw Spider-Man on our class trip. But, something is upsetting me nonetheless. Think Parker, you're a smart guy, you can figure this out!

"Don't let him get you down Petey" Y/N says as she comes over and wraps her arms around me for a hug. I push my confusion to the side and decide to think about it later instead. Smiling, I wrap my arms around her and give her a hug, "I'm not". She pulls back and nods as she brushes her hair behind her left ear, "why were you running though?". "Oh, I was trying to get away from Ms. Mcarthy" I admit, rubbing the back of my neck. She laughs and shakes her head, "First it was nuns that terrified you, now it is headmasters too?". I feel my cheeks warm and the embarrassment of being embarrassed in front of her makes them warm up even more. Get yourself together Peter! "No, no! I just got in trouble for being late" I begin, trying to clear up the confusion in hopes of redeeming myself.

"Again Peter?" she sighs, pouting slightly. I press my lips together and shrug, "it was a long night". She nods and reaches out to place her hands on the sides of my arms as she looks me over, "did you get hurt?". I shake my head, "No, y/n/n, I'm fine. I meant to come over last night but got caught up and didn't want to risk waking you". She smiles softly at me, "I appreciate that Pete, but you know I don't mind. I wasn't aware May was letting you go out on a school night again is all". "Well, she was. If she finds out I have been late almost each day this week though, I think she will go back to restricting that again" I frown.

"You've got a hard life Peter" Y/n sarcastically says, patting my shoulder as she spins around to walk next to me. "Actually I do, cause it turns out I will be auditioning for the play" I tell her, causing her to stop and turn to face me. "First of all, it is a musical Peter. Secondly, since when do you enjoy that type of thing?" she asks. "Hey! I enjoy watching you in them, I just don't enjoy being in them myself" I defend, recalling attending each of the musicals and plays she was in over the last several years. She blushes and smiles, "well, then why are you auditioning?". "Headmaster Mcarthy is making me" I explain, gently grabbing her shoulder and spinning her around so we can keep walking and not be late to our next class. The last thing I need is to be late to another class. "Oh the horror. How ever will you survive?" she laughs, linking her elbow with mine. I tense momentarily before scolding myself to relax. This has been happening for the last several weeks whenever I touch her, it is like this rush of energy goes through my whole body. I tried talking to P/B/F about it the first time it happened but he tried to make it into a joke about how I must like-like Y/n. Not that liking her would be a joke, she is amazing and I absolutely would understand someone having a crush on her. But, I don't, she's my best friend. "Peter, you good?" I hear her voice ask tenderly, snapping me out of my racing thoughts yet again today.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, sorry. Just thinking" I tell her, forcing a smile onto my face. She gives me a skeptical look but nods, "you'll do fine Peter. The auditions are after school today but they will give you a script so no need to memorize anything, just read from that". If only the musical was the main thing I was focused on. I nod, "what show is it?". "It is Beauty and the Beast!" she says quietly as we enter the science lab, but I can hear the excitement in her voice and I smile knowing how happy she must be that the school is finally doing a Disney musical. "Who knows, maybe you'll get the role of Chip!" she giggles. I laugh with her as we take our seats, "you think so lowly of me that I would only be assigned Chip?". She shrugs, "hey, don't knock Chip, he's cute!". I find myself blushing but before I can even question why, she smiles and turns to face the front of the room as our teacher begins his lecture.

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"What the hell Peter!" Y/n whispers aggressively, as she softly smacks my arm with the back of her hand. "What?!" I ask defensively. "You never told me you could sing like that!" she says causing me to blush. "Was it okay?" I ask, laughing softly. "Okay?! Peter, look around. No one was expecting that!" she says, pointing around the room. I bite my lip as I notice everyone staring at me. Jen Fisher, the most attractive junior winks at me as my eyes scan the room. I blush and quickly turn back to Y/N for comfort. She rolls her eyes, "anyways, we should hear roles here soon after the next two people audition". I look up at the stage to see the two remaining people in line waiting for their signal. I nod and turn around to see if Jen is still looking at me. When I do, I see she is walking over to me. "Oh my gosh" I say, uncertain on what to do. "What?" Y/n asks before she notices Jen, "oh. Well... have fun with that". "Wait, you're just going to leave me?" I ask, offended. "Yes Peter. I am not going to just stand here and watch her flirt with you... that would be.. weird" she says, walking off. I sigh, not wanting her to leave. "Hey Peter, that was quite an audition," Jen says, playing with her fake blond hair.

"Alright everyone, roles have been decided, please listen up" the drama club teacher says, grabbing his clipboard. Jen sighs realizing I won't be able to answer the fifth question she's asked me. To be honest, most of them did not make sense and it was clear she was trying to make small talk but was not good at it. I glance around the room, trying to find Y/N. I finally find her and frown upon seeing that she is standing with Brad Davis. I don't trust that guy, and Y/n deserves better than him. I try to remind myself that Y/n has assured me that despite his attempts to ask her out, they are not dating. I know I shouldn't care, but I just don't want her to get hurt. "Hey, maybe you'll get the role of Beast and then we can kiss" Jen says, causing my head to snap back towards her as my face heats up. She smiles and turns back to the teacher.

After I process what she just said, I find myself looking back over at Y/n. This time though, she is looking back at me and gives me a soft smile. I debate walking over to her but before I can decide, the drama club teacher has begun to list who has which role. I sigh and turn my attention back to the front of the room, knowing I should probably pay attention to what role I have. "Patrick, you will be playing Chip" he says. I bite back a laugh as I don't want him to think I am laughing at him, but rather the fact I will not be playing Chip after all. I glance over to Y/N and see her shrug playfully at me causing me to smile. "Peter, you will play Beast" he says, causing me to freeze. Did he just say Peter?! "Yay" Jen giggles, clapping her hands.

I quickly turn to fully face the direction Y/N is in and she smiles at me and gives me an enthusiastic thumbs up. I blush and try not to panic. I've never done a show before and now I have the lead?! Y/n seems to notice my concern and gives me a nod and whispers 'you've got this, I'll help' knowing my Spidey hearing will pick up on it. Brad places his hand on her back as he asks what she said. I roll my eyes and begin to walk over towards them when I hear someone let out a high-pitched scream. I snap my head in the direction it came from and see Jen looks upset. "I am playing Mrs. Potts?!" she asks, crossing her arms over her chest, "who is playing Belle?!". "I was just getting there, Belle will be played by none other than our Y/N" he says and I smile and instantly look back over to her. She is blushing and staring at the ground as everyone claps, but I can see the prideful smile she is wearing.

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"Okay, Petey, you have to be more serious" Y/N pouts, setting the script down on my bed. "Sorry, sorry! I just keep thinking of the scene where we're going to have to kiss" I admit, biting my lip. She blushes, "why Peter? We aren't even to that yet". "I don't know" I say, but I do know. Ever since realizing what the roles we were assigned meant for us, I've been on edge and trying to joke around in order to stall us reaching that scene. There are so many things that could wrong. What if the kiss is bad?! What is the kiss is good?! What do I want the kiss to be?! What does she want the kiss to be?! What if we don't want the same thing? What if we do want the same thing?. Her sighing brings my attention back to our current situation, "Peter, please. I know this isn't that important to you, but it is to me".

"I'm sorry y/n/n, I know it's important to you, and therefore it is to me too. I'll stop messing around" I assure her, feeling guilty for letting her down when she has been trying to help me. "I'm not asking you to completely stop Peter, just we've been on this scene for like 20 minutes" she laughs. I smile as I hear her laugh and know she is not truly mad.

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"That went really well I think" Y/n cheers as we leave rehearsals. I laugh and nod, feeling happy she is so cheerful. I love seeing her this happy. "Uh.... hey Y/n/n?" I ask, scratching the back of my head nervously. "Yeah Petey?" she asks, smiling at me. God that smile. It probably took longer than it should have for me to realize I was falling for my best friend. Maybe if I had noticed it earlier I could have stopped it. But, did I really want to stop myself? The answer is no, but I also knew I didn't want to lose her as a friend. I haven't seen anything that suggests she likes me back so I have been keeping it to myself but it is killing me. Each time I see her in the hall between classes, join her in science class, or rehearse with her I have such conflicting emotions. Y/N has always been a comfort to me, and still is, but lately, I am also nervous around her now that I know how I feel and realized all the embarrassing things she's seen me do. Rehearsals are the hardest given it is a romantic relationship between our characters despite us not being together ourselves. The worst though is when we rehearse at her house or mine because then there are no other distractions I can use to clear my mind. Since we are not in a relationship, the school said it would be inappropriate for them to ask us to kiss for the sake of a musical so each time we get to the scene where we thought we'd be kissing, I get disappointed each time it doesn't happen.

"Petey, you're spacing off again" I hear her laugh causing me to immediately blush. "Sorry" I mumble, hating myself in that moment. "You don't need to apologize, you sure you're okay?" she asks as she has been the last two times she has caught me zoning out as my thoughts race. It is not only embarrassing, but I don't want her thinking I am not paying attention to her. I'd hate for her to think I didn't care enough about her to listen to her completely. I could listen to her go on and on for hours about the color white if she wanted to. Thankfully she hasn't, but if she did, I would listen without complaint just to be able to be with her and hear her. "Yeah, sorry... Just nervous" I say, pulling myself together at the last moment. "May wanted to see if you'd like to join us for dinner tonight.. I was thinking maybe since the final dress rehearsal is tomorrow, maybe you want to come over and we can rehearse a bit too" I say and instantly regret adding that aspect. She probably would have come over just for dinner, she has before. Yet now I have put myself in a place to get disappointed again. She smiles and nods, "awe! sure, let me just text my mom".

"That seemed to go well" May says as I help her clean up the dishes. "What?" I ask, drying the clean one she hands me. "Tonight, you didn't seem as bummed when she left. Did something happen?" she smiles. "MAY!" I groan, leaning on the counter. "Alright, alright! I was just asking" she laughs, handing me another dish. I sigh and grab the dish, "nothing happened May. Nothing ever happens outside of rehearsal".

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"Does this look okay?" Y/n asks, spinning around in her Belle dress. I smile widely at her and nod. "Are you sure? I feel like this part is a bit unflattering" she laughs, running her hands over part of the dress. "No!" I correct and mentally cringe at how rushed it came out. "No, you look beautiful" I admit, blushing. She blushes and shuffles her feet, "thanks Peter. Maybe I should wear yellow more often". Before I can stop myself, the next confession is out of my mouth, "you always look beautiful". Her eyes widen as her blush darkens and she bites her lip, "oh... thank you Pete". I could get used to causing her to blush. "Why don't you go try your's on?" she asks, smiling at me. Even though I had no intention of actually putting it on tonight I know I can't tell her no so I nod and rush off to backstage.

"This looks really good Peter" she says, running her hands over the material of my costume. My body seemingly cannot decide if it wants to melt into her touch or freeze and it is so uncomfortable. I am going to have to tell her how I feel soon because this is brutal. "No fur yet?" she laughs, stroking my face with her hand. My eyes snap up to look at her, "oh.. uh no, they said I only need it tomorrow for the performance. It is kinda itchy". She giggles and nods, "well you look great". I blush, "thank you Y/n/n". "Alright everyone, let's run the ballroom scene with everyone in costume once and then we will call it a night so you can rest before tomorrow" Mr. Maxim, the drama club teacher says.

Don't step on her toes. To the left. Now to the right. Stop looking at your feet and look at her. I mentally groan as I keep correcting myself in an attempt to not mess up. When I do focus back on Y/N, I see her smiling at me as she grips my hand tightly. During the other rehearsals, she mentioned this scene making her anxious, which is another reason I wanted to get my part correct for her. I smile at her hoping to calm her nerves a bit and it seems to do the trick as she softens her grip on my hand. I squeeze her hand and continue the dance, my eyes never leaving her face. At the end of the dance, her face is so close to mine I have to physically restrain myself from leaning in to kiss her. "That was great everyone, make sure to sleep enough tonight. See you all tomorrow!" Mr. Maxim says. I sigh and step back, letting go of her body. She gives me a small smile, "I should probably head straight home tonight. But I will see you tomorrow Peter". I nod and say goodnight, feeling upset yet again at how it ended. I've got to tell her.

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"Whew, opening night tonight" Y/n says, pacing backstage. "Y/n/n, breathe. You've got this! Plus, I'll be right there with you" I tell her as I grab her hand to stop her from walking to the right again. She smiles and nods, "you're right, thanks Peter. We've got this". Well, I don't know if we've got this, as I am going to really have to act like I am not upset when it comes to the scene we could've kissed at. Nonetheless, in order to not make her more nervous, I smile and pull her in for a hug.

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"Oh my gosh! Peter! That went so well! Thank you!" Y/n cheers, wrapping her arms around me the second we get backstage. The fake smile I wore on stage slowly morphs into a real one as I wrap my arms around her. "You did amazing Y/n/n" I tell her. She pulls back to look up at me, "you did to Petey! Did you have fun?". I bite my lip and nod. She pulls all the way away and frowns, "really? You didn't have fun at all?". "What? No, I-" I begin, trying to fix this. "Don't you dare try to lie to me Parker" she says, crossing her arms over her chest. How does she look so breathtaking even when she is mad at me? "I wasn't lying! I just..." I begin, looking at the ground. I know I should just tell her, but if it upsets her I don't want to ruin tonight for her.

"Peter, what is it?" she asks, grabbing my hand, "why didn't you have fun?". "I did! I just was kind of disappointed" I mumble. "About what?" she asks softly. "The kissing scene," I say, knowing there is no point in trying to hide anymore. "There was no kissing scene Peter" she says, confused. "I know, that's why I was upset" I admit, blushing. "Oh.. Wait, what? Are you saying that..?" she begins, mumbling as she tries to finish her question. I sigh and take a step back so I can see her completely.

"What I'm saying is that I'm not sure when it truly started, but lately I have realized that I like you, like like you like you" I start, cringing at how many times I just said the word like. "You like me?" she asks, eyes widening as she stares at me in shock. I nod, "I do, yeah. A lot actually". She blushes and comes closer to me, "why didn't you say anything before now?". "I wasn't sure how you'd react" I admit, "and I didn't want to be even more disappointed". "Peter, did you ever think maybe you wouldn't have had to be disappointed at all?" she smirks. "What do y-" I ask, but am cut off as she leans in and presses her soft lips to mine. I smile and wrap my arms around her as I kiss her back. "Do you.. you l-" I ramble as we pull back, an embarrassingly large grin o my face. "Yes, I like you too Peter" she smiles, causing my heart to somehow speed up even more than it did during the kiss. She likes me back! I smile knowing that she likes me despite all the embarrassing things I’ve done and now I know my disappointment was worth it to have our first kiss be like this instead.

#little lovely anons #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker angst #peter parker #tom!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker x reader #andrew!peter parker x reader #mcu!peter parker x reader #tom holland fic #tom holland fluff #tom holland x y/n #andrew garfield x reader #andrew garfield x y/n

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yoyokslut · 2 years

Text

Comments.

Pairing: Andrew Garfield x singer female reader.

Word count: 363 words.

Summary: reading them it's no good.

It was almost midnight and you were scrolling through social media reading a bunch of comments, some of them were nice, some of them weren't.

"You still up, honey?" Andrew walked in drying up his hair with a towel.

"I was just reading a couple of comments," you said locking your phone and putting it on the nightstand.

"You know that's no good for you, right?" he sat besides you.

"I know, but some of them were really sweet... Until the meaning ones appeared," you pouted.

Andrew hugged you and started stroking your back.

"I know I shouldn't believe them 'cause it's all lies but i'm tired of them always taking about my life, my friends, my family. They don't even comment about my music, it's always about my private life, I sell my music not what happens around me," you covered your face frustrating. "And let's not forget about our relationship, it's always the number 1 topic in the comments. All of them are always like she's not enough for him, she doesn't deserve him, he's too good for her, I can do better than her," you hugged him tight and hide your face in the crook of his neck.

He grabbed you by the chin and made you look at him.

"Honey, you're the greatest musician I know, we love you and your music and you have all your followers and family and friends to prove that you're the best in what you do," he looked directly at your eyes and while stroking your chin. "And about us, have I told you how much I love you? How much you mean to me? How i'm always thinking about you? How much I miss you every time i'm not home? How I wanna be with you every single day of my life?"

You smiled and pecked his lips. "I love you so fucking much, you mean the world to me, thank you for always being there for me and for helping me feel better," you kissed his face making him laugh.

"I love you too, baby. No need to thank me for loving my girl," he said stroking his nose with yours.

I loved the gif 😩

Please don't post/translate any of my content anywhere else without my permission.

#andrew garfield #andrew garfield fluff #andrew garfield fanfiction #andrew garfield x female reader #andrew garfield x you #andrew garfield x reader #andrew garfield x yn #andrew garfield x y/n #andrew garfield x singer reader #andrew garfield angst

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angelfic · 10 months

Text

— CALM AFTER THE STORM

pairing: remus lupin x reader

summary: the 4 times you hate each other, and the one time you don’t. alternatively, remus lupin is a pain in your arse and yours alone.

warnings: enemies to lovers, swearing, kissing, mention of blood and wounds, some bad writing as always which is unedited

author’s note: just a little e2l fic for my own indulgence as its my fave trope and its criminal how i barely have any e2l fics… also haven’t written anything in ages soooo enjoy!

when he just has to be controversial

The sun was beaming, colourful rays reflecting over your book through the stained-glass windows of the Gryffindor common room as you lounged on the sofa with your head in Lily’s lap. You were barely paying attention to the chatter of your friends around you, choosing to focus on your copy of ‘The Catcher in the Rye’ and Marlene’s soft guitar playing. The lazy afternoon is a welcome break from the increasingly stressful N.E.W.T lessons that have had you all so exhausted, you’re not sure if Peter is asleep or dead from his curled-up position on the rug.

You don’t even realise someone is saying your name until Marlene tickles the sole of your socked foot with her guitar pick, making you yelp and draw your legs in from where they were previously tucked in between Marlene and her guitar.

“What was that for?” you grumble, nudging her arm with your foot.

Marlene smirks, nodding over to James. “He told me to get your attention. Didn’t specify how.”

You roll your eyes and turn on your side to face the boy in question, his grin unfaltering as he multitasks polishing the handle of his broomstick and talking to you. “Not my fault you’re dead to the world when you’re reading,” he says, matter-of-fact, continuing when you raise your eyebrows in impatience. “I was just wondering how you could look so interested in that book. Remus said he’d do my homework for a month if I finished it the other day and I couldn’t get past five arse-numbingly dull pages.”

You scoff, adjusting your position again to face Remus as well. “And why was Remus betting you to read my book, exactly?”

“It was my copy,” Remus replies, scribbling away on his parchment, cross legged on his chair, to undoubtedly finish the Potions essay that Slughorn had set yesterday. You’re transfixed on the way his hand is moving across the page for a second, unable to fathom how someone can have such messy handwriting. You aren’t surprised in the slightest that the next words coming out of his mouth are ones you disagree with. “I wanted to see how long he lasted reading the slowest-paced book in the world.”

You abruptly sit up at this, shutting your book and forgetting plans of relaxation.

“Hey, watch it!” Lily exclaims, lifting the bottle of black polish she’s using to paint Sirius’ nails from its balanced position on her thigh to avoid you spilling it all over her white top. “If you’re about to argue, please refrain from throwing things until after I’ve done the second coat of nail polish.”

You pointedly ignore this and narrow your eyes at Remus who, infuriatingly, still hasn’t lifted his head from his essay. “I’m surprised you found it hard to read such a slow book. Thought that’d be perfect for you.”

“Look what you’ve started, Prongs,” Sirius sighs, examining his nails.

Seeing the corners of Remus’ lips pull up into a slight smile at your comment just spurs you on in defence of the book you were previously enjoying. “Besides, it’s about a real-life teenager with real-life struggles, not The Hobbit on his latest adventure.”

“Who’s Hobbit?” James mumbles, scratching his head in confusion as Marlene just shrugs, equally oblivious.

“It’s overrated,” Remus insists, finally setting down his quill to look at you. The amused expression still hasn’t left his face and you make a noise halfway between a scoff and a high-pitched squeal of indignance. “Even James agrees.”

“Oh, and James’ opinion on literature is the standard now?” You raise a brow, tutting when James starts to protest. “The only book James has finished in the last six years was Quidditch Through the Ages.”

The way James slowly slides the aforementioned book under one of the sofa cushions doesn’t go unnoticed by anyone. Sirius starts snickering, much to Lily’s annoyance as she tries to control his hand. “She got you there, in fairness, mate.”

Sirius’ chortling seems to stir Peter from his sleep and he opens one eye to peer at you. Seeming to catch sight of your irritated expression, he frowns. “Are these two arguing like an old married couple again?”

“Merlin help us if these two ever decide to get married,” Marlene utters under her breath, bent over her guitar and avoiding the weight of your glare.

“Yeah, he wishes,” you grumble, shuffling around on the sofa to get back into a comfortable position with your book. Remus’ smile has only widened in response and he seems to enjoy your discomfort as you overcompensate for showing your annoyance by wriggling about.

“I dream about it every night,” Remus replies, dryly and Peter giggles below you before turning over to sleep again.

You overcompensate a little too much by moving around, because Lily huffs from beside you and starts scrambling around for a tissue. “What did I say about the second coat?”

“I didn’t throw anything this time!”

2. when he won’t let you give someone a black eye

Defence Against the Dark Arts is your favourite N.E.W.T subject for a lot of reasons. You enjoy the lesson content, it’ll be useful in future years, and it’s the one lesson you share with every single one of your friends.

You’ve gotten used to James and Sirius messing around while Professor Marigold recites fact after fact about spells and creatures and wizards of dark nature. Its like soothing background noise to you and your classmates who all concentrate in silence most of the time.

Which is why your quill stops on your page and leaves a growing ink blot when you hear snickering and whispers from the other side of the classroom rather than from in front of you where the marauders sit in a line.

The scoffs of disgust coming from Snape and Mulciber are loud enough to attract the attention of the rest of the students and even the teacher, who eventually sets down her piece of chalk in the middle of talking about Wolfsbane potion with an impatient sigh.

“Is there some sort of pressing issue that can’t wait until after class to discuss, boys?” Professor Marigold asks with a tone of ire that would impress Professor McGonagall. “Even Black and Potter have decided to give it a rest today.”

She’s not wrong, you think, noting how they’ve been less disruptive than usual for this lesson, probably tired out from setting each other’s robes on fire in Charms the hour before.

“The pressing issue is werewolves,” Snape mutters quietly, as though he doesn’t want to make a big issue but can’t stop himself from speaking up. “We should be learning more about how to kill them and less about the price of potion ingredients.”

Lily gasps from beside you and Sirius and James tense up at his words. Remus doesn’t lift his head, but you absently notice how his grip tightens around his quill when Peter nervously turns to him. Peter isn’t one for conflict and he’s always been nervous around this particular group of Slytherins, so you’re not surprised he’s anxious.

“Werewolves are still people, you can’t just go around killing them!” you find your mouth moving on its own, before your brain can catch up. When Snape turns to direct his scowl at you, its matched by your own as well as Lily’s disappointed frown. “They didn’t ask to be werewolves, they physically can’t help it! How would you feel if people wanted to kill you for not being able to control being such an arse.”

“Miss Y/L/N,” Professor Marigold warns, setting her stern eyes on you. You’re not one for disrupting lessons or getting into trouble, so when Remus turns around to look at you with a raised eyebrow, your cheeks start to warm and you stubbornly don’t look his way again.

Snape ignores her to continue glaring at you. “I don’t have the capacity to kill people in a feral rage now, do I?” His gaze flits from you to Lily and Marlene and then lingers on the boys. “Of course, you’re defending werewolves. It’s no surprise considering who you choose to associate yourself with.”

“Mr Snape.”

“You have no need to fly into a feral rage to kill people,” you reply, voice steadily rising in volume. Sirius and James turn their heads back and forth like they’re watching a tennis match and you know the only reason they haven’t piped up to agree with you is because they’re too entertained watching the way you’re about to jump out of your seat to pounce on Snape. “All you need to do is show someone your face for them to die of fright–”

“ENOUGH!” Professor Marigold’s booming voice cuts through the laughter of everyone on the Gryffindor side of the classroom and when you turn to look at her, you see even Remus’ shoulders are shaking with silent laughter. You’re not sure why this pleases you, but it doesn’t last long enough for you to figure it out before Marigold waves her wand in the direction of the door and sends it flying open. “Both of you will wait for me outside the classroom until the lesson has finished so I can discuss your appalling behaviour.”

You gape at her for a second, before relenting and grabbing your bag, not wanting to argue with her authority. Your friends have different ideas.

“That’s not fair!” Marlene exclaims, standing up in protest. “She didn’t even do anything wrong.”

“Yeah,” James agrees, also standing up. “Snape’s the one who was being an annoying pri–”

“Sit down, everyone,” Marigold cuts him off, pursing her lips. “Everyone except Mr Snape and Miss Y/L/N. Do not even think about speaking Mr Black, or I won’t hesitate to suspend your and Mr Potter’s Quidditch privileges until further notice.”

Sirius shuts his mouth after a nudge from James and you shoot your friends a grateful smile before making your way out of the classroom, followed closely by Snape.

The door shuts behind him and you don’t bother sparing him a glance before dumping your bag on the ground and leaning against a wall to focus your gaze on a suit of armour for the next five minutes. You’re about half a minute in when you notice that one of the hands are slightly wonky and the classroom door suddenly opens.

Remus, of all people, enters the hallway to join the two of you and quickly shuts the door.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, furrowing your brows and getting up from against the wall.

“Yeah, what are you doing here?” Snape sneers at him, and you give him a scathing look before turning to Remus for an answer.

Remus pointedly ignores him to stand next to you against the brick wall. “I just pointed out to Professor Marigold that you both have your wands and she may not have two students left out here by the end of the lesson.”

“I can defend myself,” you snort, folding your arms. You aren’t sure if you’re annoyed that Remus is insinuating otherwise, or if you’re touched that he doesn’t want you to be hexed into oblivion by Snape. “Especially from him.”

“Oh, I know,” Remus raises both hands in surrender as his tone becomes grave. “It’s not you I’m worried about, trouble.”

“Ha ha,” you deadpan, rolling your eyes at the nickname. He started it around a year ago when you got your first ever detention for helping Sirius and James Charm the Slytherin chairs to throw them off every time someone sat. Your friends had kept quiet about your involvement, but Peeves had spotted you, the nosy bastard. The nickname stemmed from the fact it was the first time you had ever gotten into trouble and it never failed to irritate you. “You better be careful I don’t hex you.”

“I wouldn’t dream of annoying you,” he says, but the serious tone of voice is ruined by the way his lips are twitching in an attempt not to laugh at you. “After what happened when I said I didn’t like that one Jane Austen book? Forget it.”

“Hey, you insulted one of my favourite characters,” you point out, resting a hand on your hip. “What did Emma ever do to you? You had that hex coming.”

“I had pink hair for a week,” Remus narrows his eyes at you, but you can tell he isn’t really angry. Although he refuses to admit it, you know for a fact he didn’t hate the pink hair considering how good he looked with it. An annoying indiscretion on your part. Remus looks behind you for a split second before leaning in a little to whisper. “I won’t get in the way if you want to turn Snape’s hair pink, though. Preferably a very bright shade of flaming, hot pink.”

At risk of your own cheeks flaming up from how close he is – really, what’s the need? – you shake your head let your hair fall into your face. Almost having forgotten Snape is also there, you start when he scoffs (for what you think is the millionth time this afternoon) and you sigh before facing him begrudgingly. “What now?”

“Couldn’t handle the content of today’s lesson?” he asks, tiling his head. You’re about to ask him what the hell he’s talking about before you realise, he isn’t actually talking to you, but to the boy behind you.

“Uh…” you trail off, not sure how to respond. All three of you currently standing in the corridor know that Remus is smart enough to tackle any type of content, especially something as memorable and interesting as werewolves.

Remus’ amused demeanour has been wiped away and you can’t determine his exact expression, but his voice is cold when he talks to you. “Just ignore him.”

“You and your group of friends can’t help themselves when it comes to defending strays and all sorts,” Snape continues, much to your confusion. “It’s not enough that you’re a group full of blood-traitors and mudbloods…”

Remus tenses up behind you and you find yourself frozen for a second.

The next thing you know, you’re lunging at the greasy-haired Slytherin with every intention of hurting his face with your fists, wand long forgotten. Your fingers barely brush his robes, however, when you feel yourself being hauled back by strong arms that wrap around your middle.

“Let go!” you snarl, enjoying the way Snape has backed away, eyes wide and worried. “Did you hear what he said? Remus, let me go.”

He doesn’t relent, still holding onto you when he leans down to speak in your ear. “You’ve already gotten into trouble. You’ll get into a whole lot more when everyone walks out to see Snape with a black eye and you with bruised knuckles.”

“Worth it,” you grit out, still pulling away from his grip and throwing daggers with your eyes at Snape. After a few more seconds of pointless struggling, you relax very slightly just to turn in his arms so you can direct your next words to him more pointedly. “Not only is he a slimy, blood-supremacist twat, but he also wants to kill a poor bunch of werewolves. We should be throwing him into the bloody Black Lake!”

“I know, I-” Remus is cut off when the door opens and students start flooding into the corridor to provide a barrier between you and Snape, indicating the end of the lesson. Remus finally lets you go when he realises you’re in direct view of Professor Marigold who stands behind her desk, waiting for you. “I had no idea you were such an advocate for werewolves.”

It’s the last thing you expected him to say and you immediately look up at him and frown. “Again, they’re people. They don’t deserve to be victims of prejudice just as no one does.” He doesn’t respond, staring at you with an unreadable expression and a hint of a smile. Your frown deepens in confusion. Was he… laughing at you? Especially after you had just gotten along. “I’m so glad you find me amusing,” you say, scowling and storming back into the classroom and away from Remus.

3. when he's too good for flower crowns.

“Tell it again,” James insists, grin wide as ever plastered onto his face despite the withering look you send his way. “Getting a glimpse at even the possibility of Snivellus getting pummelled by Y/N would have made my entire year.”

“The galleons I’d give up to have been there,” Sirius releases a wistful sigh, closing his eyes as he lies down, facing the sun.

You hand him the daisy chain crown you just finished and he dutifully dons it. “I’ll alert the Ministry of Magic to order in a time-turner for an issue of utmost urgency,” you say sarcastically as you start on the next daisy chain. Sirius merely winks at you.

“I think you should’ve let her have at him, Remus,” Marlene states, unapologetic. You nod vehemently in agreement, a little too enthusiastically as you end up splitting a daisy down the middle.

Lily tuts, adjusting her own flower crown as it slips against her silky red hair. “I’m glad you didn’t. Godric knows what Professor Marigold would have done,” she shudders at the thought, ever the diligent student.

“Forget Marigold,” Peter chimes in. “Imagine what Professor McGonagall would have done.”

You don’t miss how he looks over his shoulder in case your head of house is taking a stroll along the grassy grounds.

“She would have combusted when you called him an ugly arse,” Remus pipes in, unhelpfully might you add, from where he sits slightly away from the group under a tree, reading.

The comment sends Marlene, Sirius and Peter into a fit of laughter – James is too busy staring at the way the sun is making Lily look ethereal and she’s too busy pretending not to notice while being secretly pleased. Doing a quick survey of your friends, you see everyone now has a flower crown except Remus. You make your way to the tree he’s resting against while the others chat, and sit yourself down with purpose.

Remus lowers his book very slightly to peer at you and your too-sweet smile. He raises a sceptical brow. “Should I be scared right now?”

You drop the fake smile and hold up your flower crown expectantly. “Everyone has one, but you.”

“How observant,” he says, setting his book down to look at you in mock astonishment. “Have the Aurors at the Ministry caught wind of you yet?”

“Don’t be a pain,” you groan, dropping it onto his open book. “I want everyone to wear one for the picture!”

Remus sighs, looking at the large camera over by your bag. You had saved up all summer to buy a magical camera to be able to take pictures of you and your friends in your final year at Hogwarts. The time you used your own muggle camera was a disaster of sparks and broken bits of plastic that took hours to mend. “I already agreed to your incessant picture-taking,” he reminds you, acting like it’s the most painful thing in the world. “The flower crown is not happening.”

“Fine, you miserable git,” you flick a handful of grass at him, sending him sputtering. “Now come and sit for the photo.”

You return to the group with Remus behind you and get everyone in position before hunting down someone to take the photo. Glancing around, you spot a close bunch of first-years and send Lily to use her Head Girl credentials (and warm and inviting personality, of course) to rope one of them into coming over.

“Okay, smile everyone,” you order, plopping down on the grass next to James. You elbow him in the ribs, not even having to look at him to know what he’s doing. “Stop looking at Lily and look at the camera.”

With a couple of mutterings and some nudging, the nervous first-year Hufflepuff girl shakily takes the picture and hurriedly hands you the camera in the middle of the picture sliding out of it. James and Sirius go back to playing with a golden Snitch while Peter watches, while Remus returns to his book.

Lily looks at the picture and coos over how cute everyone looks at the same time as Marlene complaining about her hair. You impatiently take the picture back to slide it into your photo album and something catches your eye.

Sirius is making a peace sign behind Remus’ head. His head that wears a flower crown.

4. when he bleeds out on you.

You’re not sure what time it is – either very late at night, or very early in the morning. You do know, however, that you want to finish your Herbology essay so you can enjoy tomorrow (or today) and cheer your friends on in the Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw Quidditch game. You only have the conclusion left and you’re confident it’ll be done in the next ten minutes.

If you can find your damned quill, that is. You could have sworn you had it ten minutes ago, just before you snuck down to the kitchens to persuade the house-elves to give you the strongest cup of coffee they could make. You take a quick sip and grimace at the lukewarm temperature before setting it down and getting up to search. After turning every sofa cushion upside down, you go to crouch behind the sofa.

You hear the door to the common room being swung open and the hushed voices of the Marauders enter, but you don’t take too much notice as you squint for your quill. It isn’t unusual for the boys to be roaming around the castle at odd hours of the night, but a hiss of pain grabs your attention at the same time you spot the quill.

“Can you guys manage taking him up to the-” Sirius cuts himself off when your face pops up from behind the sofa. He freezes in his efforts to hold up Remus, who you notice is leaning on him and James and Merlin’s balls he’s covered in blood.

“What the fuck happened to him?” Your voice comes out weak as you walk over to the boys. Remus has deep, bleeding slashes over his chest and an assortment of little cuts on his face and hands. He seems barely able to keep his eyes open but when his gaze meets yours, he winces. He isn’t the only one hurt and you realise Sirius’ arm is damp with blood and trembling, the same going for James’ thigh. “What the fuck happened to all of you, oh my God…?”

“Peter, you were supposed to keep watch,” James hisses at the boy who looks like a deer in headlights. He looks a lot better than the others, with only a couple of small cuts scattered around his face and arms.

“She was behind the sofa!”

James’ leg buckles and you snap out of your state of shock to dart forward and keep him steady. “Right. Shit, okay,” you breathe out, holding off asking any questions to prevent anyone from bleeding out. “James, Sirius, set Remus down on the sofa and take off his shirt. Peter, help these two up the stairs and go find a first-aid kit or something.”

“We’ve got a couple in the dorm,” Sirius says, summoning one of them down with a quick Accio and handing it to you. He hesitates for a second, probably unsure if he should stay and explain things, before deciding to turn in the direction of the stairs with James as Peter rushes to help them up. “Look after him, please. We’ll be right back, Moony.”

“Take your time, I’ve got him,” you utter, already fiddling with the first-aid box and trying to open it with shaky hands. You’re no healer, but you know enough to panic when you see Remus has had his eyes closed for the last few seconds. “Remus, keep your eyes open!”

He groans, cracking one eye open to look at you. “I’m injured and bleeding out and you still manage to yell at me.”

“I wasn’t yelling,” you frown, unscrewing the bottle of dittany and scrambling for the cotton pads. You try to avoid Remus’ gaze because you feel extremely silly about being more panicked than him when he’s the one with claw marks down his chest. “Don’t move, or it’ll hurt.”

While dabbing the liquid onto the deep gashes in an attempt to close them up, you ponder on the fact that he probably knows it hurts from experience. You’re not completely clueless.

“What are you thinking?” Remus whispers in the stifling quiet of the common room, looking unsure.

You don’t cease in your movements, changing cotton pad after cotton pad. It takes you a minute to muster up the courage to meet Remus’ gaze again and this time he looks more nervous than you’ve ever seen him. “You’re a werewolf, aren’t you?”

Remus gives you an almost imperceptible nod, like he doesn’t want to admit to it. You take a deep breath.

“Who else knows?” you ask calmly, as if you’re asking him about the weather.

“The boys and Lily,” he admits, swallowing hard. “Oh, and Snape.”

“Snape?” you exclaim, halting your dabbing to gawp at Remus. “I’m not saying you had to tell me or anything, but Snape?”

Remus winces and you don’t think it has anything to do with his injuries. “In my defence he found out on his own and hates me for it,” he rushes out. “And it’s not that I didn’t want to tell you… I-”

“It’s fine,” you cut him off, waving him off and wondering how good you’re hiding the fact you’re a little hurt. “You didn’t have to tell me.”

“No, I wanted to. I did,” Remus insists, looking earnest. There’s something in his voice that’s a little pained and desperate that has you meeting his eyes. “I just couldn’t have dealt with it if you started looking at me differently. The boys and Lily sometimes do, y’know? Like I’m made of glass or something. It’s refreshing whenever you scowl at me or call me an idiot or an arse or a stupid gi-”

“Okay,” you stop him, stifling a grin. “I get it!”

Remus’ eyes flash with relief for a second before you notice doubt start to creep in again. “You don’t need to hide it, by the way. I won’t hold it against you if… If you’re scared or disgusted, or-”

“What?” you cut him off again and scrunch your nose in confusion. “I’m not scared or disgusted. Why would you think that?”

“You’ve been a bit too calm,” he points out.

Rolling your eyes, you grab a bandage to start patching up the worst of the injuries before you move onto the minor cuts and bruises. “I didn’t want you to think I was freaking out, or looking at you differently,” you quote his own words to him with a pointed look, making him smile again. “I don’t, you know. Think of you any differently, I mean.”

His expression is unreadable as he just looks at you and you just look at him, bandage hovering over his chest before his fingers come up to brush the back of your hand. He lightly holds your hand, softly running his thumb over your knuckle as his voice drops to a whisper again. “Thank you.”

You offer him a gentle smile, holding his gaze for a second longer before focusing on bandaging him up again. His hand drops to the side and you oddly find yourself missing his warmth. The large bandage adheres to his skin and you run your fingers along the sides to stick them down, feeling him shudder under your touch.

You quickly busy yourself with looking for more supplies in the kit to hide the way your own breathing has increased slightly. “Hey, anyway, I almost walloped Snape right in the eye for you. If that wasn’t any indication of my standing on werewolves, I don’t know what is.”

“Ah, my knight in shining armour,” Remus chuckles before breaking into a wheeze as the muscles of his injured abdomen contract. “Fuck, don’t make me laugh.”

“Don’t laugh at me then!”

5. when you’re definitely not jealous… you’re not!

Three cups of coffee. You’re on three cups of coffee. It’s also the same number of hours you’ve slept and by Godric can you feel it in every inch of your body as the muted chatter of the Great Hall buzzes around you. Your head is in your hands as you contemplate stealing some Polyjuice potion and bribing a first-year to take a dose with your hair in it so you can go to bed and they can pretend to watch the Quidditch match.

You knock back the last sip of coffee when you sense a presence sliding onto the bench in front of you. Groggily setting the cup down, you see that its Remus. It takes a second to remember why this is concerning.

“Morning, h- Wait, what the hell are you doing out of bed?” you hiss, leaning forward to avoid anyone listening in. You scan your eyes over his chest, two seconds away from ripping his shirt off to check his bandages. “How are you even standing?”

“Relax, Florence Nightingale,” Remus says, rolling his eyes at your dramatics. He does his own quick sweep of the table and sees that most people are out in the Quidditch stands already, so he proceeds to pull the neckline of his shirt down slightly to reveal an already fading scar. No bleeding in sight. “I went to Madame Pomfrey with the boys this morning and she hurried up the process like she usually does. I feel achier than a 90-year-old woman with a metal hip, but the brunt of it is gone and Pads and Prongs are good as new.”

“Okay,” you say slowly, narrowing your eyes slightly. “If you’re sure you can sit out in the stands…”

“I can once I’ve consumed every cup of tea on the premises,” he says, reaching for the teapot. An annoyingly smug smirk starts to appear on his face while he pours. “What, are you worried about me, trouble?”

You scowl instantly. “No, I just don’t want you collapsing on me in the Quidditch stands while I’m cheering the boys on.”

“Right.” He hides his grin behind his cup of tea.

“Hey,” you mumble, nodding to Patricia Holloway who looks like she’s making a beeline to your table. More specifically, towards Remus. “Bright and cheery Hufflepuff incoming.”

“Merlin, it’s too early for this,” Remus whispers, taking another sip of tea before his face breaks out into a charming smile directed at the girl who slides into the empty seat next to him. “Morning, Patricia.”

“You look good today, Remus,” Patricia rests her elbow on the table and tilts her head to look at him with simpering eyes. It’s no secret Remus is good-looking and you’ve heard a million girls talk about him before. You’ve never seen any of them approach him yourself, though. You can’t say you enjoy it. “Are you… okay, Y/N?”

You didn’t realise you were scowling until she addresses you and you rapidly smooth out your expression, clearing your throat. Remus looks amused, which makes it harder to keep the scowl off your face. “Fine! I’m fine, just a bit confused since Remus looks half asleep,” you attempt a laugh through gritted teeth and are spurred on when Remus is actively trying to fight a grin. “And his hair currently makes him look like he’s been dragged through the Forbidden Forest.”

He can’t stop himself snorting at that, but Patricia just looks confused as though unsure how to react. She settles on a nervous little laugh, turning back to him. “I can fix that for you, here,” she says, scooting closer and starts to run her hands through Remus’ hair. You poke your cheek with your tongue, marvelling at how bold she’s being and how Remus is just sat there, still looking amused as ever. “There, what do you think?”

“A hairbrush couldn’t have done a better job,” you deadpan, softening your expression slightly when Patricia begins to look a little disconcerted. “You keep doing that, I’m going to head off to the Quidditch field.”

You all but storm out of the Great Hall, exhaustion having left you completely. It’s replaced by a newfound whirl of irritation that pools in your stomach and creeps up your throat, making you feel a little sick. It must be the coffee, you think, and you’re trying to remember if the beverage has ever made you experience this when all of a sudden there’s a hand circling your wrist.

“Stop, Y/N,” Remus says, a little breathless. You didn’t realise he’d run out after you and you feel bad about his injuries before your gaze snags on his newly tousled hair. “Godric, you walk fast.”

“I didn’t ask you to catch up to me,” you snap, purposely scowling this time. The cheeky bastard still looks amused and your irritation is growing faster than ever. “Besides, the match doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes. Plenty of time for Patricia to give you a whole new hairdo. Maybe she can give you plaits or– Why are you laughing.”

“You’re jealous,” he exhales with a smile, sounding positively delighted. Any feelings of concern have disappeared and are being rapidly replaced with wanting to thwack him upside the head. “Oh my God, you really are jealous.”

“Jealous, my arse,” you scoff, turning your back to him with every intention of speed walking out of the castle. His long legs keep up with you easily and he rushes in front of you to stop you going anywhere. You glare at him. “Leave me alone, Lupin.”

“Not until you admit that you’re jealous.” Remus is positively giddy with glee and you feel a flush of heat crawling up your neck. You set your jaw stubbornly and he’s incredulous as he shakes his head. “Merlin, you really have to argue with me on everything don’t you? I don’t care about Patricia Holloway and I’m glad you’re jealous. Means you’re less likely to break my nose when I kiss you.”

You barely get the chance to make an incoherent noise when Remus grabs you by the waist and presses his lips against yours, kissing you like he isn’t prepared to let you go anytime soon. His mouth slides hot and wet against your own and you gasp into the kiss when he nips lightly at your lip, your hands coming up to slide into his hair, making it unruly all over again.

Remus is the first to break apart, too soon, and you physically restrain yourself from chasing after his lips. He pulls back slightly, breathing fast to look into your eyes, searching for the answer you’re unable to speak yet.

“You… uh, I-I’m…” you trail off, dazed and breathless and head swirling with every emotion under the sun.

Remus laughs, pulling you impossibly close and leaving a soft kiss on your jaw, which doesn’t help your current speech issues. “If I knew that was all it took to shut you up, I’d have kissed you years ago.”

“Wha-!” You slap his arm, snapping out of the haze. You hide your current uncertainty behind a glare. It hit you like a ton of bricks, but you realised about five seconds into the kiss that you wanted Remus Lupin in every way, shape and form. You’re more than a little terrified, so what better defence mechanism than anger? “Why did you actually kiss me, you prick?”

“You are the densest, most clueless,” Remus begins, pausing to kiss you lightly a couple times when you start to scowl. “Most stubborn and most beautiful little witch I’ve ever known. And if you haven’t figured out after almost seven years that I love you, then I’m afraid we might have to admit you to St Mungo’s, because really-”

“Stop,” you whisper, lifting a finger to press against his lips, effectively silencing him. “You love me? You actually, seriously love me?”

He rolls his eyes and nods, like it’s obvious or something. You huff. “Then why have you been such an annoying pain in my bloody arse, Remus Lupin?!”

“Because,” he says, the word coming out muffled and you hastily remove your finger. “It was a good way to keep your attention. Plus, I like when you’re angry. It’s cute.”

You scowl without thinking and his smile impossibly widens.

“See?”

“Shut up and kiss me again,” you say dryly, pulling him in by the collar to give him a short, searing kiss. “Oh, and I guess I love you too.”

“So, no broken noses in my future?” Remus asks hopefully, softly sliding his nose against yours.

“No promises.”

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin ff #remus lupin fic #marauders x reader #marauders fanfic #remus x reader #remus lupin scenarios #andrew garfield x reader #remus fanfic #remus fanfiction

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alwaysmoncheri · 1 month

Note

hello! I hope you’re doing good! I would like to request a fic with tasm!peter parker or james potter if you prefer, but something where they’re making out and the reader ends up breaking his glasses? If that makes sense🫣

hi, my darling, i’m am doing very well! thank you for requesting, that makes complete sense! I’m totally watching tasm again after writing this <3

cw: fem!reader, making out, slightly suggestive (but not really), aunt may walking in, established relationship, fluff, 1.2k

Peter’s mouth is on your neck while the bridge of his glasses rubs against the skin just an inch higher than his mouth. His hands stay firmly planted on your hips as you sit in his lap on his swivel chair. Your textbook and computer lay abandoned next to his on his desk in front of you.

“Peter, I have to study,” you mumble, but the sigh that escapes your lips makes your excuse less believable, “We have to study.” you add, trying you best to get yourself and peter back on track for a big exam tomorrow. Crazy for Peter or not, this test is important and you need to get a little studying in, but you can’t get Peter to keep his hands off you.

“No, we don’t.” Peter replies quickly, before biting your neck, causing you to let out squeak.

“Peter,” you practically whine, and the chuckle that falls from Peter’s mouth vibrates onto your neck, causing you to squirm in his lap. When Peter lifts his head from your neck, you’re pouting. Lips jutted out and eyebrows pinched together with pleading eyes. Oh, Peter could die right here with you in his arms. He pulls you closer, biceps and hands pressed into your sides and forearms into your stomach.

“You’re going to be fine,” Peter offers gently, pressing a much softer kiss to your cheek, allowing you to release the tension from your face, “You’ve studied plenty already.”

“But–”

“No, buts,” Peter shuts you down, gently rubbing your sides in an attempt to silence your worries. He wants to kiss you so bad, but he would never do it without your permission. And if you want to study, he’ll let you, but he doesn’t think you really do, “Kiss me?”

Peter hears you release a long, dramatic, sigh before shifting yourself in his lap so that you’re straddling him, his hands now stabilizing you by your waist. For a moment your face is expressionless and Peter can’t read you. He worries that you’re unhappy with him but when he sees a giddy smile creep onto your face, he instantly reciprocates and his worries melt away.

You lock your hands around Peter’s neck before leaning in to kiss him. At first, you kiss him softly, tenderly just because you love him. But when you lightly tug on Peter’s hair at the nape of his neck, he takes it as a sign to tug on your hips, pulling you flush against his chest and deepen the kiss. But when the bridge of you nose knocks into Peter’s glasses, you groan in momentary pain, causing his eyes to widen, hand reaching up to gently hold your cheek, the action asking if you’re okay. When you nod your head and meet his gaze, you notice his concern before it’s quickly replaced with frustration. Peter quickly tears his glasses on his face and tosses them towards his bed without sparing a glance in that direction. But when a soft crack echos from across the room, you snap your gaze towards the glasses that now lay broken at the bridge on the floor.

“Peter!” You gasp, shifting your gaze between him and the broken glasses, but no concern seems to be etched on his face.

“Don’t worry, I can get new ones,” Peter assures you, kissing the corners of your lips while his nose delicately brushes the apples of your cheeks, “I just wanna kiss you.” Peter whispers and you feel a rush of warmth spread across your face at his tone.

“Aunt May isn’t going to be happy.” You state, nervously glancing towards the door that Peter probably forgot to lock again.

“Shush, less talking, baby,” Oh god, you melt completely at the way his says baby and presses his finger to your mouth, before replacing it with his lips, “More kissing.” He adds in between a few quick, hard, presses of his lips on yours.

“Oh whatev—hmph!”

Peter kisses you long and hard, successfully getting you to stop talking. You feel hot all over when he kisses you again and again. And when you rank your fingers through his hair, lightly tugging on the ends, while simultaneously gently biting his bottom lip, Peter makes a sound between a gasp and a groan that makes you want to do it again just so you can hear the sound once more. There’s a kiss, another, and another, you’re so caught up in the feeling of his mouth against yours, carefully sliding your hands up and down his chest before lightly gripping a fist full of his shirt to keep him near you.

The way Peter touches you is like muscle memory, he knows how to make you gasp and what makes you shiver. When, his hands slip under the material of your shirt and caress your skin, your body reacts exactly how he knows it always does. Then, he lifts you up, your legs wrap around his waist, and with his lips still on yours, he gently lowers the both of you onto his bed. He seems so far away now and you can’t handle it. Before he even has the chance to lower himself further down onto the bed, you grab his biceps, which are tensed from holding himself up, and tug him towards you. Peter practically falls and suddenly the weight of his whole body is on top of you, Peter worries for a moment, breaking the kiss, but you make a noise, reminiscent to a childish whine before grabbing his jaw with both of you hands and pulling him back. With his lips on yours, his tongue slides into your mouth while your thumbs trace the outline of his jaw and his hand slides behind you back and into your shirt.

“Hey, do you two know where—Oh my goodness!” You and Peter are quickly pulled apart, turning your heads in the direction of Aunt May’s loud gasp. She stands just outside the bedroom with one hand still on the doorknob, her expression loudly displaying her shock. Peter stays on top of you for a split second, before May’s gaze shifts between his hand in your shirt and both of your disheveled appearances, “Peter Benjamin Parker!”

With that, Peter immediately jumps up from on top of you, quickly grabbing your hand to stand next to him. Both of your faces are flushed red from being caught, even if all you were doing was kissing. Aunt May stands by the door, both of her hands placed firmly on her hips, presumably awaiting a reasonable response while you and Peter glance at each other in search of something to say. When Peter’s gaze returns to his aunt, he finally opens his mouth to speak.

“Aunt May—We were just—” Peter pauses as he stumbles over his words, feeling pathetic under the eyes of both you and his aunt.

“Studying.” You finish with a somewhat convincing smile and when Aunt May turns to you, her gaze softens, but when she notices the broken glasses laying forgotten on the floor behind you, her questioning expression returns.

“And what happened to your glasses?” Aunt May asks, a triumphant smile crossing her face as she knows she’s caught the two of you red-handed in your obvious lie, “Were you studying when that happened?”

You and Peter hesitate, he sends you a nervous smile and the both of you bite your tongues, not trusting yourselves to speak. After a moment, the two of you nod, heads hanging low.

“Mhm, right,” May hums before sending Peter a look that says, ‘we’ll talk later.’ Then, she takes a few steps into the room, causing you and Peter’s eyes to widen, but May only steps around you to pick up the broken glasses before walking back towards the door, “Well, dinner is almost ready, you two better behave.”

“Okay, yeah, thank you, May.” Peter says, and you can tell he’s beyond flustered by the situation as he runs a hand through his hair, then brushes a finger along his bottom lip, “We’ll be down soon.”

May nods before sending the both of you one final look, this one a little more playful than the rest. She exits the bedroom and closes the door behind her, leaving you and Peter alone once again.

The both of you share a glance before breaking out in a fit of laughter. Peter falls back onto the bed, tugging you down with his so that you’re laying on his chest.

“I told you she’d be mad.” You tease, running your hand up his chest, eventually reaching the back of his neck, while leaving a gentle kiss on his jaw.

“It was so worth it.” Peter smirks before flipping you over and kissing your face

masterlist . tasm!peter parker masterlist . taglist

thank you for reading, my darling! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily! send requests to my inbox!

tags: @googie-jeon, @Kevia1000, @annoyingmidgetwhowrites, @averyhotchner, @marauderswhxre, @vixparker

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literaila · 6 months

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i’ll tell you in the morning

tasm!peter x reader

summary:

“you’re going to fall through the couch.”

“the couch would never betray me.”

warnings: overly considerate peter, scheming reader, fluff and stuff

“you’re supposed to be in bed.”

his voice rolls, like a click on a cassette, and you know that peter is not really there.

because it’s all a little blurry. his voice, the door opening, the feeling when he kneels down next to you, his breath hot in your ear.

it’s all some remanent of a dream. a brief moment where you might wake up, but decide not to.

“i’m serious,” his voice ebbs and flows, waving in and out, like your consciousness. “you know i don’t like it when you wait up for me.”

you groan and roll even further into the couch. your face is smushed, and your hair is a mess, sweaty because you’re drowning under every blanket in the house. it smells like cotton, and peter’s deodorant, and potato chips that you probably dropped through the cushions.

you dig your nose in deeper, trying to get back to that dream.

peters probably not actually there, you think, because if he was he would’ve kissed you awake. his hand would be lazily running through your hair, and his body would be pressed against yours. you would be cuddling by now.

real peter is much nicer than dream peter, who shakes your shoulder, albeit massaging you right afterward. “c’mon, bug, we’re going to bed.”

“sleeping,” you mumble, pulling away from him.

dream peter continues to try and wake you up, while you wonder—amidst the dream, no doubt—when real peter will be home. you want to be drowning in his collarbone instead of your own sweat.

there’s a kiss next to your ear. “you’re going to fall through the couch.”

“the couch would never betray me.”

“we’ll see if you’re saying that in the morning, when your neck is bent the wrong way,” he whispers, and rests his head against yours. you feel it as he breathes out, relaxes. almost like he’s purring into your ear.

so you keen into him, a bit awkwardly, considering that it’s his forehead. “why’d you wake me up?”

“you can’t sleep here.”

“c’mere,” you murmur to him, your hand wrapping around the back of his neck, fingertips just brushing his hair. “cuddle with me.”

“being cute isn’t going to stop me from moving you.”

“peter,” you try and push him away, “go to bed.”

“why are you out here?” his nose trails down your hair, to your neck. “it’s almost four in the morning.”

you ponder this, and decide that you don’t really remember what you were doing before you fell asleep here, with your hand shoved in the crook of your neck. “the beds cold,” you slur, head falling back into the cushions as you doze.

“that’s because all of the blankets are out here. why didn’t you turn the heat up?”

he’s playing with some baby hair by your ear now, trying to lull you to sleep, probably, because he loves you.

“i was waiting for you,” you whisper this like a prayer, “and now you’re here.”

“you waited in the wrong spot. i would’ve come to bed with you. there’s no room for me here,” he smiles when you finally turn your head towards him. he’s got a smudge on his nose, and his eyes are sunken in—aged from exhaustion.

“i know.”

you’re both whispering. trying not to wake that drowsy, lovesick part of yourself right now.

“hmm?” he leans into you, nose brushing your cheek. almost like he’s breathing you in. “what, bug?”

“i wanted to fall asleep with you.”

then his eyes are wide open, and he leans back, brows furrowed in a tight line. “i told you i was going out.”

you muse at his confused face, and lean back towards him. “i know. i didn’t know when you’d be home.”

“you could’ve called.”

“i’m not going to interrupt your repertoire with a burglar at midnight. it’s rude.”

“not to me.”

you tsk, and lean away, back into the pillow comforting you while simultaneously scheming to ruin your morning.

“you need more sleep than i do,” peter adds, trying to keep you awake with his sheer willpower, his hands squirm under your shoulders. “we’ve talked about this.”

“no, you threatened to tell my mom—“

“that’s not what i said,” peter interrupts, groaning into the sofa.

“that i wasn’t getting enough sleep. and i said that you could make your own decisions, but that i wasn’t going to stop waiting up for you.”

“it makes me feel bad,” he ignores your gentle protesting. “i don’t want to keep you up.”

“peter, it’s not like you’re out dancing with strippers.”

he laughs, unexpectedly. and you grin back at him, with a sheer conviction undiluted by any hints of remaining sleep.

“you’re up helping people. i don’t mind waiting for you,” you emphasize this by leaning in to kiss his forehead, tasting sweat and not minding at all.

“you’re going to be tired tomorrow. when did you fall asleep?”

you acknowledge your win for what it is, and sit up on the couch, looking around your apartment like you can’t remember where you are. “probably an hour ago. i didn’t know when you’d be home, and i waited a while, but then i moved to the couch so you’d have to wake me up if i fell asleep.”

“so this was an elaborate scheme, huh?” peter laughs at you as his teeth graze your cheek. his chaste kiss makes you warm.

“i learned from the best.”

peter chuckles against you, and the two of you sit like that for a moment. calculating each others breathing like there’s something you might miss, however brief.

and then you smile at him, and he smiles back. “bed?” he asks you, softly, fingertip running against the skin of your jaw. you nod.

his arms wrap around you as he picks you up, your head rested comfortably on his shoulder, legs wrapped around his waist.

“i’m leaving you on the couch next time,” he threatens as he walks, “just so you know.”

“then we’ll both wake up with sore backs. not just you.”

peter snorts. “i didn’t say i would be there.”

“like you can sleep without me.”

he doesn’t say anything to that, but you feel him murmur in your hair suspiciously.

peter sets you down on the bed softly, pushing your legs so you’ll lay down, then covering you with the comforter. he tucks you in like any average middle aged dad.

when you grin he nods, very satisfied with himself.

“i’m just gonna change,” he says, taking a step back.

“hurry. i’m tired.”

“now, look who’s talking,” he shakes his head, but moves swiftly to the bathroom. you hear it as he runs the sink, as he bangs his foot on something and curses, and when he pads back into the bedroom, looking like a young child sneaking out of bed in his pajamas.

you laugh. “where did you get those?”

peter looks down to himself. to the many cartoon styled spider-man’s dancing across his cotton pajama set. “what? this old thing.”

“i don’t think i can be seen in public with you if you’re wearing that.”

“we are in the privacy of our bedroom,” he points out.

“i don’t think i can be in the same room with you if you’re wearing that.”

peter shakes his head, pouting like he’s disappointed, but he slips the shirt off, a concession he’s apparently willing to make.

though you don’t doubt that there are ulterior motives to this move.

“c’mon,” you whine to him, “i’m cold.”

“you’re so needy.”

you roll your eyes, but sink into him as he shuffles from beside you, laying his head near yours. “you’re not coddling me.”

“i’m so very sorry, my dear,” he whispers, and wraps his arms around you.

“shh,” you nuzzle your nose into his neck, and murmur against his hot skin. “i want to go back to the dream i was having.”

peter must be laughing at you, you can tell, even slightly asleep, because something jostles you.

“what was it about?”

you smile against him, listening to his heart like a hymn you’re devoted to. “i’ll tell you in the morning.”

he whispers something, brief, a whisper in the quiet of the room. but you feel the words as he settles into the bed, his calloused hands running over your skin.

and you fall asleep; hands clutching the others heart.

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parkerdoeswriting · 8 months

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Baby, It's Your Birthday!

(Andrew Garfield x GN Reader)

category: fluff blurb

summary: reader makes a birthday breakfast for Andrew :( <33

warnings: none lol, this is pure fluff

word count: 0.2k

A/N: UGH ANDREW’S BDAYYY :( i need to stop falling in love with 40 year olds /hj

As Andrew groans awake, his hands instinctively reach to wrap around your waist, or it would if you hadn’t gotten up before him. He frowns as his eyes adjust to the morning light streaming through the window, not seeing you lying with him.

He gets no response, which causes him to frown harder. He glances at his phone, it's 9 am on August 20th, his birthday. He smiles when he realizes what you're probably doing, what you’ve done every August 20th since you both have been together. He gets up and throws on pajama bottoms and a t-shirt, trudging to the kitchen.

As he makes his way, the familiar smell of his favourite breakfast fills the house. He sees you working hard in the kitchen, swaying along to faint music on a speaker. You hear footsteps and look up, noticing a half awake and half asleep Andrew looking at you.

“Hey sleepyhead” you laugh at the sight of him.

“Mmm” he hums, walking over to you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Happy Birthday old man” you giggle quietly, peppering his face in small kisses.

He groans as you call him an old man, pouting as you kiss him.

#andrew garfield #andrew garfield x reader #andrew garfield x you #andrew garfield imagine #andrew garfield x y/n

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slytherheign · 1 year

Text

YOU BELONG WITH ME | tasm!peter parker

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

WORD COUNT: 3.9k

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

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

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

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

It was Friday Night.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh–I don’t know?” you admitted.

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

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

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

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

“Since when did you get a dress?!”

“Uhh… since last week?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe he was just talking to Gwen as a friend.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But maybe he belonged with someone else.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh my god.”

“MJ, what is it?”

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

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

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

“Yes.”

You did not expect what you saw.

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

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

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

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

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

“Peter?” you started to say. “What–”

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

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

“What about Gwen?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, and no.”

“I don’t understand.”

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

“Pete…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll have to thank MJ for that.”

“Wait–MJ is a part of this?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Needless to say, the future was exciting.

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

SLYTHERHEIGN TAGLIST: @writingstoraes @joshiiieeenesx

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

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softtdaisy · 2 years

Note

For the 600 followers celebration, can I request Andrew with the song "Swept Away" by The Avett Brothers? Scenario could be them sneaking away from a party, event, wedding, etc, for a private moment and just sharing a moment soft, slow, and sweet amidst busy lives.

_swept away

andrew garfield x reader

based on: swept away by the avett brothers

words: 772

a/n: thank you sooo much for requesting honey!! i loved writing this, it super sweet i hope you will love it!! 💛

Join my 600 followers celebration 💛

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

It wasn’t that you didn’t like to party. It was just that you hoped you could spend some more private time with your boyfriend.

Working in the cinema industry was difficult, especially when you’re dating Andrew Garfield. Finding a moment alone was almost impossible when you both have to travel around the world or stay somewhere for months. This somewhere being at the opposite, of course. It was almost a miracle that you both managed to be invited to this gala tonight and be able to attend it.

You had to take pictures when you arrived. Because, of course, the paps were crazy about you two being together. It wasn’t like they could get many pictures of your private life these past months. So you and Andrew played their little game and posed for them.

You weren’t the narcissist type but you knew these would look great. Because you both looked amazing for the occasion. And because the look you couldn’t stop giving to each other was so pretty it would embellish every single thing.

Then, you were inside. You listened to the organizer's speech in silence, applauded when you had to and mostly looked at Andrew. You loved how passionate he was for every little thing. Someone could tell him about the most insignificant thing. Andrew would look intrigued and interested, even asking more questions. It was something you loved deeply about him. You couldn’t resist brushing his cheek slowly and then tracing the corner of his lips when he smiled. “I love you.” you whispered before kissing his skin and he slowly put his head against yours.

You saw many of your friends, some celebrities you had never met before. But all you wanted was to spend some time alone with Andrew. And your boyfriend could feel it in the way you were holding his hand all the time or following him with your eyes everywhere he was going. You wanted him and nothing more.

Once he was done talking to Robin, his co-star from Tick Tick Boom, Andrew walked back to you and immediately took your hand. “Follow me.” he just said. It wasn’t even a question considering he literally pulled you by the head to make sure you would go with him. It wasn’t even a question because he knew you wouldn’t say no.

You were just surprised when you realized you weren’t going to see someone else. You were heading outside. Not from the principal entry but using a hiding door, probably there in case of emergency…or privacy.

“What are you doing?” you finally asked while laughing. It was too funny to see Andrew’s expression. It made him look like an adventurer looking for the big prize. And when he turned around to finally face you, you understood that he was indeed looking for it. He was actually looking at it right now.

“I just needed a moment with you, my love.” he kissed you slowly before taking you in his arms. You could listen to the music from there. The orchestra was just behind the wall. However, you couldn’t hear the guests talking. It felt like there were only the two of you there and it was exactly what you needed. “I could see in your face you needed it to.” Andrew whispered in your ear and you just nodded before putting your head against his chest.

You loved having these slow dancing moments with Andrew. They happened more than the world could ever imagine. You always found a way to dance together at any event. You weren’t the best dancers, or at least you weren’t showing your true love during these moments. But it was then that you felt the closest to Andrew. When you could hear his heartbeat perfectly. When his hand was running down your hair. When he put his chest against your head. It didn’t matter if you were in the middle of a crowded room or alone in an empty corridor as long as you wre together.

“You’re my safe place.” you said, looking up at him. There was no better way to describe your love for Andrew. You would always find the comfort and the love you deserved in his arms.

Andrew took your hand to make you spin. You laughed before ending up against him one more time. “That’s one of the reasons I plan on spending my life with you [y/n]”.

“What are the other reasons?” you frowned and Andrew cupped your face with softness. “You’re an amazing kisser, that’s reason number one.” he replied before giving you the kiss you deserved: sweet, pure and full of love.

#andrew garfield imagine #andrew garfield fic #andrew garfield x reader #andrew garfield #andrew garfield x y/n #andrew garfield x you #andrew garfield fluff #my writing #600 followers celebration

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frost-queen · 4 months

Text

Starcrossed lovers (Reader x Peter Parker) NWH

Requested by: Anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn

Summary: You & Peter were in love till he lost you. Pulled through a portal he did not expected to meet you again on a different earth. When the battle against Green Goblin in upon them has Peter a chance to forgive himself but at what cost? [ part 2 & part 3 & part 4 & part 5 ]

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you Y/n.” – Peter breathed out. Some electricity flickered dangerously above his head. You gasped loud looking up to him. Feet dangling in the air as his hand in yours was the only thing holding you in place. – “Peter…” – you said anxiously. The broken insides of the construction site clear. In the midst of the building you were hanging. Your life literally in Peter’s hand.

He himself hung stuck on a support bar made of metal with only his web. You gasped again hearing the construction site tremble. Feeling as if the place was coming down any second. You looked down at the gaping hole ready to swallow you whole. – “Don’t… don’t look down Y/n.” – Peter said with a clenched expression.

He felt his hand sweat underneath his suit, hoping it wouldn’t lose his grip on you. The construction site shook again, trembling and breathing as it disturbed the peace. Peter and you bounced a bit trying to stay steady. – “Peter!” – you called out wanting him to look at you. Peter was panting, holding onto you with every might. He looked down at you seeing the fear in your eyes. Yet there was also something else hiding in your eyes. Acceptance? Peter felt his hand slip in yours, making him groan loud. It made your feet dangle more knowing he couldn’t hold you any longer

You knew as good as anyone that Peter couldn’t save the both of you. It was him or you. It was an easy choice to make. The world needed spiderman, but the world didn’t need Y/n Y/l/n. It was an easy choice. You or him. You slowly closed your eyes, squeezing them gently shut as a single tear rolled down your cheek. Peter groaned again as he felt his grip falter on you. – “I’ll… I’ll figure something out Y/n.” – Peter said looking around to see how he was going to get out of here.

“I have to!” – Peter shouted at himself as you slowly opened your eyes once more. – “Peter I love you.” – you said making him look down at you. His eyes widened finally seeing the meaning in your eyes. You opened your hand, letting it lean back so his grip faltered.

Your hand slipped out of his as you descended into the abyss. – “No!” – Peter shouted releasing his web. You were falling. Peter diving after you, reaching his hand out to you. A web shot out aiming at you in the hopes of catching you. Your eyes were glossy from the held in tears. The wind catching you like hands trying to ease your fall. Peter’s web reached and attached itself to your stomach. He called it out trying to lift you up but the ground was reaching faster. Faster then he could’ve pulled you up. Your back smacked against the hard floor, bouncing off. It was fast. Quicker than falling asleep. Red crimes blood staining the hard floor. Peter landed beside you, picking you up carefully. For his pain could never be healed.

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“Just think of Peter!” – you called out slightly annoyed. – “Okay, okay.” – Ned replied jumpy as you were making him nervous. – “Just hold on.” – he added moving away from you. MJ sighed loud with a shake of her head. – “I need to concentrate for this.” – he told you. – “Then concentrate.” – you answered bitsy. MJ got up grabbing you by the shoulders. – “Give him some space.” – she said pulling you backwards away from Ned. You surrendered holding your hands up. – “I’ll won’t say a thing.” – you told her as MJ sat you down. – “Here have a cookie.” – she slid the tiny plate with cookies closer to you.

Cookies Ned’s grandma had made. You didn’t want to accept one as MJ took one and forced it into your hand. With one stern glance of her, she forced you to remain silent and eat it. Ned wiggled his shoulders to prepare himself like a boxer would before entering the ring. He moved his fingers in front of him, closing his eyes. – “Think of Peter Parker. Think of Peter Parker.” – he mumbled to himself. Slowly little orange flickers appeared in the midst of his grandma’s living room. MJ’s eyes widened as the orange sparks increased. Tumbling in a spiralling way as they grew wider.

Creating an opening. Your eyes widened as well making you drop your cookie out of shock. The portal opened more as you could look into an alleyway. A figure unclear. – “Peter! Hey Peter!” – Ned called out. The figure turned around pointing confused at himself. – “Peter come’ on!” – Ned urged not knowing how long he could open this portal. The figure approached jumping through the portal. – “It worked.” – MJ said looking at spiderman. The spiderman looked from Ned to MJ, then his eyes fell on you. It made him take off his mask, hoping his eyes weren’t deceiving him.

Ned and MJ gasped loud. – “Who are you?” – Ned asked loud. It drew spiderman’s attention away from you. – “I’m Peter.” – he said friendly. – “No, we are looking for Peter… Peter Parker.” – MJ stated looking suspiciously at him. – “My name is Peter Parker.” – his gaze going back to you. MJ furrowed her brows looking back at you confused. – “No, our Peter is spiderman.” – Ned addressed. – “I am spiderman.” – Peter replied looking briefly at Ned. MJ grabbed a bagel throwing at Peter.

Peter furrowed his brows, moving his hands away, gesturing why. – “I wanted to test your spider tingle.” – she told him. – “I have the spider tingle just not for bread.” – he told her. You snorted loud finding it very funny. Hearing you laugh made Peter’s face light up. – “We summoned the wrong Peter.” – Ned said out loud making you get up. You brushed past MJ and Ned coming over to Peter.

You started circling around Peter taking a close look at him. When you came to the front and your eyes met, you smiled sheepishly. – “Hi.” – you said softly. – “Hi…” – Peter replied with a saddened smile. You lifted his arm up, going underneath it as you examined his suit. Went around his back to the side, taking his other arm. You faced his palm up checking his spider webs.

You pressed on it accidently gluing your fingers to his device. You chuckled sheepishly. – “Sorry.” – you spoke. Peter smiled till his smile faltered having been brought back to a memory. He remembered when you had done the exact same thing once. He pulled the web of your fingers, freeing you. – “He seems real enough to me.” – you told MJ and Ned. Peter who had put his mask between his teeth, raised his arms in a way of telling MJ and Ned he was telling the truth. He pulled his mask out of his mouth with a smile. MJ still had her suspicion on him. – “Don’t mind MJ, she is a bit untrusting towards people.” – you told Peter.

“That’s okay.” – Peter answered almost saying your name. It almost blurted out so naturally he had missed saying it. Ned took a deep breath. – “Alright attempt number two.” – he prepared himself again for another go. Peter stepped aside joining your side. He watched Ned swirl his hand in a circle to open another portal. – “I’m Y/n.” – you told him making him look back at you. – “I know…” – he whispered saddened. You quirked up your eyebrow. Peter kept staring at you, unable to grasp that you were standing here beside him.

If he could, he would’ve grabbed you and kissed you like his life depended on it. It hurt, hurt being so vividly reminded of the loss of you in his world. It felt like a blessing that he got to speak to you again, yet it felt bittersweet knowing you were from somewhere else. A different earth. – “So uhm…” – Peter began half watching Ned’s attempts to open another portal. – “Peter… your Peter are you… his…” – Peter felt ridiculous and silly for even asking it.

He just wanted to know if his alternative Peter was yours. You picked up on it, laughing loud. – “Oh no, I’m just a friend. MJ is Peter’s girlfriend.” – you nudged with your head at MJ. – “Okay…” – he whispered out with a saddened smile. A new portal opened as a second person walked out, claiming to be Peter Parker as well. MJ sighed disappointed as Ned could only chuckle awkwardly.

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“Can the spiderman come out to play?” – all three Peter’s turned their head at the familiar voice. Green Goblin riding his hoverboard as he unleashed his green bombs. They were coming towards the building aiming for Dr. Strange. Doc Oc’s attached arms grabbed them out of the air, protecting Dr. Strange. They exploded in his metal grip. Stephen gasped when Green Goblin flew by, grabbing the cube from him.

Peter, the Peter from this earth turned his head in shock. Doc Oc flung a metallic arm at him, taking a hold of the hoverboard. Green Goblin was being held in place making him look surprised back. Strange flung a whip to Green Goblin taking back the cube. It hovered between his hands as he sighed relieved. Green Goblin turned snapping off one of Doc Oc’s arms. Doc Oc cursed in pain with frustration. The cube slowly turned in Stephan’s hand as all three Peter’s widened their eyes.

All seeing the green bomb ball inside the cube. – “Strange no!” – Peter one shouted holding his hand out. The bomb exploded releasing the magic inside it with blasts as two spheric rings blasted through the building. The entire building shook as it made you stumble out of balance, knocking into Ned. Ned, MJ and you were a few levels below, unaware of what was happening up there. The heavy shield destined for the statue of liberty released from it’s position.

With a heavy weight it scorched a way down the building. Breaking everything in it’s wake. The platform you were on shook immensely. Even shifted as you lost your balance. Making you stumble backwards as your arms flayed around for any balance. You tipped over the edge with a loud scream. Ned unable to grab you in time as he clutched onto a pipe, nearly falling down himself.

Your scream was hearable till the top. Making all three Peter’s look up with worry. Peter, Peter three was the first one to react. His scream deafened out as he leaped off the building. Not again. Why was he tormented like this again? Having to relive the moment he lost you. Your hands grabbing for any support. Peter dived down getting pulled back to the memory of where he had seen you fall before. The way you had shown acceptance in your eyes.

Yet your eyes were different. Full of fear. Only fear, no acceptance. He came at you with speed, determination on his mind. Not again. No more he would let you fall. He opened his arms, wrapping them tightly around you as the impact made you twirl in the air. Peter shot out a web as it stuck to a metal bar. His falling slowed down as he landed swiftly on his feet with you in his arms.

Shocked you were panting. Thinking you might have been done for it. Peter was panting too, looking quickly at you. – “Are… are you okay?” – he asked. You nodded vigorously, keeping your hands around his neck. – “Yeah… I’m okay.” – you breathed out shakily. Peter felt himself tear up. – “Are… are you okay?” – you asked seeing how emotional he had become. He nodded with a saddened face. – “I am now…” – he answered letting his forehead rest against yours. He set you down on the ground, holding you by your waist.

Knowing how shaky you still are from the fall. Peter sobbed loud, wrapping his arms tightly around you. – “I caught you. I caught you Y/n.” – he said making you hug him firmer. – “You did.” – you whispered to him, leaving a kiss against his cheek. Peter pulled himself a bit back from the hug, wiping some hair out of your face. He chuckled out a smile between his sobs seeing you alive in his arms.

You kissed Peter again on the cheek, feeling as if you had known him your entire life. Your kiss felt bittersweet as he knew he couldn’t keep you forever. You weren’t from his earth so he couldn’t bring you back. Peter tilted your head leaving a kiss on your forehead. – “Stay out of sight and save.” – he said giving you a slight nudge into a direction. – “I will.” – you told him, going into hiding.

Peter looked back at you, wishing he could keep you, but he couldn’t. His feelings for you had never died out. It hurt, yet it hurt good that he was able to love you a little longer. Hang onto you that little longer to be able to forgive himself. If he could he would take you with him. Knowing you were save on another earth pleased him. Yet he would do anything to try and find a way to be reunited with you again. Even if it meant dying in the process. He couldn’t live without you. You were his entire world.

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