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#idk why he's so mad don't ask me ask my computer mouse
autisticbats · 3 years
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luveline · 2 years
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can you do a peter reader story where you just wanna watch him game? idk but i find it hot when guys play video games but explain what they are doing. like my bf will let me sit on the ground by him and he’ll kinda pet my hair and just talk to me and tell me what he’s doing like a team mate and i feel very loved. maybe a little smut but mostly fluffy!
babe the request was good and i ruined it my bad love u ty xoxo
Peter looks really fucking hot on his computer. You don't know a lot about what he does when he's on it playing games, only that he sometimes gets this competitive look on his face if you catch him in the middle of one. Some of his worst losses have turned into your best evenings, when he's mad and full of tension he can't get rid of. 
You think of this as you push open his bedroom door. His eyes dart to you and then back to his monitor just as quickly.  
"Hey, baby," he says, distracted. "I didn't hear you come in. I'll be done in a second." 
You drop your bag on his bedsheets and stand by his desk chair, pushing your arm loosely over his shoulders. You drop a kiss into his lovely curls. 
"That's okay, don't rush." 
He hums and clicks and does whatever it is he's doing. You know he's winning from the pleased smirk stretching across his lips, growing wider by the second. 
Still, you ask, "Are you winning?" 
"Yes, we are." 
"Who's we?" 
He points quickly at a small row of chat names in the corner of the screen. "That's my team." 
"Oh. Do you know these guys?" 
He laughs brightly and gives you another split second look. "No, bub, I don't know them. We're in an online club together." 
"I see." 
The game finishes and a victory title pops up on the monitor. He leans back in his seat and looks up at you with his heart melting eyes. 
"Sorry, I know it's boring for you, bub." 
You shake your head. "It's not boring! It's not boring if you like it, Peter, I swear. I just don't get what's happening."
"Thanks, Y/N." The way he says your name has you weak in the knees. He plays with your fingers hanging over his shoulder as he asks, "What are we doing tonight? Wanna get some food?" 
"You looked like you were having fun. Why don't you show me how you play? I don't mind watching." 
There's something immeasurable in his gaze as he pats his thigh. You hesitate. He rolls his eyes and grabs your hips, guiding you so you're sitting with his leg between your thighs, facing the screen. He can tell you aren't resting your whole weight on him and pinches your side until you give in. His arm needles under yours to reach the mouse. 
You don't quite get the instructions that he's giving as he plays. His voice is gentle and his patience is unending, explaining even the intricacies of his character's specific advantages and how they work against others. The game is interspersed with spare seconds and he uses them with his face pushed into your skin to give you quick squeezes. He pauses mid sentence to tell you how nice your hair smells. 
He's quieter as the game approaches an end. You feel his excitement bubble up when he does something that results in the team winning, obsessed with the pleased exhale he releases. 
He leans back after it ends and wraps his arms around your waist tight, pulling you in to lie against his chest. 
"D'you get it?" he asks, kissing the covered hill of your shoulder. 
You grin. "Kind of," you lie. "Tell me again?" 
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