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#peter parker au
waitimcomingtoo · 11 days
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Smell Ya Later
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Synopsis: you get a new body cream that allegedly attracts spiders, and someone else
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Whenever you needed a some space from your everyday routines, you packed up your stuff and spent the weekend in your room at the Stark Tower. You had spent the day shopping and picked up a few self care items, including a new body cream you had seen online. Once night had fallen and you felt you had shopped enough, you retreated back to your room and sat at your desk to look at the things you had bought.
“Let’s see how you smell.” You said as you twisted the cap off the body cream. You had barely raised the jar to your nose when Peter appeared the doorway of your room.
“Hey.” He greeted.
“Jeez. You scared me. I didn’t know you were here tonight.” You laughed and put your hand over your pounding heart.
“Yeah, I’m spending the weekend here to give my aunt some time with her boyfriend. But, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I was walking by and wanted to come say hi.” He laughed shyly.
“Oh. Well, hi.” You smiled and gave him a little wave.
“Mm. Something smells really good in here.” Peter sniffed the air as he walked into your room. You were pretty sure this was the first tike Peter was actually in your room and that made you gulp.
“Really? I don’t smell anything.”
“Maybe it’s just the air. Girls rooms always smell good.” He shrugged.
“Are you in a lot of girls rooms?” You asked teasingly but were dying to know the answer.
“No.” He chuckled. “But I remember from going over to girls houses for group projects and stuff in middle school. Plus, Natasha’s and Wanda’s room always smells good when I walk by. Not that I go around sniffing everyone’s rooms.”
“I’m starting to think you might.” You mumbled out of the corner of your mouth.
“I don’t, I swear. Did you just go shopping?” He laughed and leaned against your desk. You sucked in a sharp breath over the close proximity and nodded your head.
“I did. But I didn’t get anything exciting.”
“What do you mean? This looks very exciting. What is this?” Peter asked as he held up a fluffy headband with a large bow at the front.
“A headband to keep my hair out of my face when I wash it.”
“Oh. I thought it was a giant scrunchie. Or a really small tube top.” Peter pursed his lips as he turned the headband over in his hands to try and understand it.
“No. Neither.” You laughed shyly as you watched him touch your things.
“What’s this thing?” He asked and held up your heartless curls rod.
“It’s for heartless curls.” You replied, making Peter look at you in confusion.
“You know. Curling your hair. With no heat.”
“This tiny pool noodle curls your hair?” Peter asked in disbelief and held up the limp rod.
“Yes. You wrap it around this and sleep in it. Then you wake up with curly hair.” You explained and wrapped a strand of your hair around it to demonstrate.
“Okay. I’m getting closer to understanding. What role does this thing play in all of that that?” Peter asked as he picked up a claw clip from your desk and opened it a few times.
“You use this to clip the rod onto your head while you wrap your hair.” You informed him.
“Wow. Sometimes I feel like girls live in an entirely different secret world than boys. Like, I just put water in my hair and say I’m ready. But you guys have all these fun fancy contraptions.” He smiled as he played with a scrunchie on your desk.
“Yeah. I guess it is kinda fun.” You shrugged as you looked at all the silly contraptions laid out in your desk.
“Woah. What’s this thing?” Peter gasped and picked up your jade roller that was still in the package.
“It’s called a jade roller.”
“You’re gonna have to explain.” He said and looked to you for help.
“I haven’t tried it yet but basically you put it in the refrigerator and then roll it on your face to decrease puffiness in the morning.” You explained as you took it out of the box.
“And it works?”
“I don’t know. But it feels good.” You shrugged and rolled it up and down your cheek.
“I can’t imagine that medieval looking thing feeling good.” Peter mumbled.
“It does. Come here.” You beckoned him with your finger and he leaned down closer to your face. You smiled timidly at him as you rolled it up and down his face.
“See? It feels nice, right?” You asked in a soft voice.
“I’ve never experienced this feeling before.” Peter said and closed his eyes peacefully.
“You should get one.” You chuckled and rolled it on his forehead.
“I don’t know. Mr. Stark already made fun of me for my Lana Del Ray poster. If he sees this in my room he might think I’m a little weirdo.”
“Who cares what he thinks? He has a “nail girl” for his weekly manicures and pedicures. And I think it’s attractive when a guy cares about his hygiene. Which says a lot about my standards now that I say that out loud.” You realized and thought about that for a minute.
“Maybe I will get one then. Because I care about my hygiene. A lot. More than the other guys you know, I bet.” Peter bragged, making you laugh.
“I would not have a hard time believing that.” You answered honestly.
“Why do you need all this stuff anyway? You’re so pretty.” Peter asked as he gestured to all the things on your desk. Guy cracked a smile at his casual compliment but didn’t make a big deal out of it.
“It guess it’s like you said. It’s fun. I like using these things when I’m having quiet time by myself.”
“I like that. That’s something new I just learned about you. I also didn’t know your last name until right now.” Peter tapped a school paper on your desk that said your full name. You laughed as he stood up and headed towards your door. The moment was ending but it was the first time you really talked to Peter one on one in that way so you still took it as a win.
“Seriously. Something smells really good in here.” He said from your doorway.
“I think I smell it too now. Maybe somethings in the air.” You smiled shyly.
“Must be.” He smirked. “Goodnight, L/n.”
“Goodnight, Parker.” You called after him. Once he was gone, you stayed looking at the doorway with a starstruck smile on your face. You didn’t know what prompted Peter to talk to you all of the sudden but you were thankful to whatever it was.
The next day, you went downstairs for breakfast and found Natasha and Wanda in the kitchen. You stopped to talk to them for a minute as you finished rubbing your body cream onto your elbows.
“Ooo. You smell good. What is that?” Natasha asked you.
“It’s a body cream from that brand Sol De Janeiro. I’ve never used it before but it had good reviews.” You told her as you smelled your wrist to catch the scent again.
“Wow. It’s really nice.” She sniffed you again. “You smell like how Moana feels to watch.”
“Thank you.” You smiled. “But when did you watch Moana?”
“I was thinking more along the lines of luxury sunblock or every flower scented candle at Yankee Candle at once.” Wanda added.
“That description also works, thank you.” You nodded in agreement.
“That reminds me.” Natasha began. “I need to get a new perfume. I’ve become totally nose blind to mine and I can never tell-“
“Hey guys. Mmm. Something smells good. What is that?” Peter burst into the room suddenly full of energy while loudly sniffing the air. You smiled and waved at him and he immediately went over to you.
“It’s this one.” Wanda said and pointed to you. Peter put his hand on your back and stepped closer to you to taken whiff.
“Oh, yeah. It is you. You smell amazing.” He told you.
“Oh, thank you.” You laughed shyly. “It’s just my body cream.”
“God damn. It smells so good.” Peter gushed. “I’ve never smelled anything like that. What’s it called?”
“Um, I’m not sure. I could find out and tell you, though.” You offered.
“Yeah, sure. I probably wouldn’t use it because it smells like a woman angel that turned into a vanilla bean but I wouldn’t keep a jar around just to sniff. It smells amazing.” He insisted and moved close to you to inhale again.
“So you’ve said.” Natasha snorted and gave you a look. You gave her a confused look as Peter put his hands on your hips and nose right on your shoulder to smell you.
“Sorry. I just really love that scent. It makes me feel like that scene in Ratatouille.” Peter said.
“What scene?” You looked over your shoulder to ask him and tried not to scream over how he was holding you.
“When that guy eats the ratatouille.” He said simply. “Holy shit, L/n. You smell like a flower that was dipped in crystallized sugar and then rolled in fairy dust. I could smell you all day.”
Just then, Tony walked by and saw how close Peter was to you. He frowned when he heard Peter sniffing loudly and rolled up the magazine in his hand.
“Down boy. Bad. Off of her.” Tony said as he smacked Peter with the magazine.
“But she smells so good.” Peter whined.
“No. Bad. Bad boy.” Tony shook his head and continued hitting Peter with the magazine.
“Fine.” Peter grumbled. “Bye.”
“Bye.” You waved to him as he left the room. Once you were alone with the girls again, they looked at you with raised eyebrows.
“What?” You wondered.
“How long has that been going on?” Wanda asked you.
“How long has what been going on?”
“You and Peter.” Natasha replied.
“What? There’s nothing going on between me and Peter.” You forced a laugh and looked to the side.
“Well he clearly wants there to be something. I have not seen a boy that down bad since high school. Wait, how old are you guys again? 14?” Wanda asked.
“22.” You corrected. “And Peter is not down bad for me. I’m pretty sure he likes this girl from his school.”
“What’s her name?” Natasha asked.
“Liz.” You answered immediately. “I mean, I don’t know. Who cares?”
“Oh, so the crush is mutual?” Wanda nodded in understating.
“No. Nothing is mutual.” You scoffed. “This isn’t liberty.”
“Oh, you have it so bad.” Natasha laughed at how flustered you were getting.
“Nuh uh. Maybe you like Peter and you’re trying to deflect. Ever think about that?” You asked her.
“Right. I like a middle schooler who cries to Lana Del Ray on weeknights.” She answered sarcastically.
“She has very moving music.” You defended him.
“I think it’s cute that you guys like each other.” Wanda said. “And it makes total sense for you to be together. You’re the same age and have a similar lifestyle. Why not tell him how you feel?”
“Because I don’t like him.” You insisted. “And he doesn’t like me.”
“If he doesn’t like you then why was he just using you like a scratch and sniff?” Natasha raised an eyebrow.
“Maybe he just likes to sniff things.” You shrugged. “Maybe that’s his thing.”
“Or maybe you’re his thing.” Natasha replied.
“Do you really think he likes me?” You asked them hopefully.
“I always kinda thought he did.” Wanda admitted. “And After that disturbing encounter, there’s no doubt in my mind. He’s definitely into you.”
“Hm.” You hummed and thought about it. You’d always had a secret crush on him and he had no idea so maybe it was possible that he felt the same way about you without you ever realizing.
You spent the day thinking about what the girls had said. Your thinking was interrupted when Peter returned to your room that night and took a whiff of the air.
“Mm. Smells good in here.” He noted.
“I have a candle on. I mean, lit.” You corrected yourself and pointed to your candle.
“Don’t knock it over and burn your room down. That happened to Brittany Spears, you know.”
“Oh, I know.” You insisted. “I watch all the videos of her spinning in her living room.”
“Same.” He laughed. “What are you doing right now?”
“Nothing. Why?”
“I was gonna go grab food. Would you want to-“
“Yes.” You said immediately. You felt embarrassed for answering so fast but Peter didn’t seem to mind.
“Cool. Let’s go.” He said and nodded towards the door.
Thirty minutes later, you were sitting on a bench outside of Delmar’s with sandwiches and bottles of ice tea. Peter picked the place and you followed his lead when ordering because he seemed like a regular.
“And why is it flat?” You asked him as he held up his squished sandwich.
“Because it tastes better the flatter it is, duh. Try it.” He insisted and gestured to your squished sandwich. You gave him a skeptical look before giving it a bite.
“Okay. You might be on to something.” You admitted once you had swallowed.
“Thank you. Every few years my brain lets me have one good idea.” Peter said as he happily chewed his sandwich.
“What was the good idea before this one?”
“Chips in my sandwich.”
“I see. And are these ideas always sandwich related?” You chuckled.
“Wait.” He gasped. “Yeah. They are.”
“Maybe it’s a sign. Maybe you’re a natural born sandwich maker.” You shrugged.
“Maybe I’m Jersey Mike.” He gasped even louder, making you laugh. People were looking but you were too excited to be there with him to care.
“I was gonna say you’re Jared from Subway but I think he’s a pedophile or something.” You told him.
“What? No way.” Peter scoffed and pulled out his phone to google it.
“Oh damn. You’re right.” He realized. “Wow. Even Jared from Subway is a bad guy? Is no one safe?”.
“I mean, you could really say any male celebrities name and there’s like a 50% chance he has charges against him.” You shrugged.
“That’s so true. My record is clean, by the way.” Peter told you. “Until my identity gets revealed. Then I’m looking at a lifetime of property damages and breaking and entering charges.”
“Oh, for me too. I have trespassed more times than I’ve actually been invited somewhere.” You answered. Peter laughed and then looked at you fondly for a minute. You grew self conscious under his gaze and nervously cleared your throat.
“I’m sorry. I keep getting distracted by your perfume.” He admitted. “I can’t get over how good it smells. You smell like the freaking sugarplum fairy.”
“Thank you. You smell good too.” You complicated and nudged him a little.
“That’s because I stole some of Mr. Starks super expensive cologne before we left. He called me to his room once just to show me the price tag on it. I thought it was his social security number at first. And the bottle is so small. I thought it was stupid to spend so much on such a tiny bottle but now that I’m wearing it I feel like I really want to fire someone.”
“I can’t say I’ve ever felt that feeling.”
“Me either. Until today. I smell like a whole different tax bracket right now and I don’t know if I can go back to my Axe Dark Temptation spray. I don’t want to smell like the bourgeois anymore.”
“Thats so funny.” You chuckled. “Do you always take his cologne?”
“Never. Just for today because I knew I was gonna ask you to hang out.” He said before taking a bite. You paused and sat with the implication that he did something just to impress you.
“I’m flattered to know you stole for me.” You said with a coy smile.
“Well you always smell amazing so I didn’t want you to think you were hanging out with some stinky rat.” Peter explained.
“I would never say that about you. I must say, you’re the best smelling rat I’ve been around.”
“Since we live in New York, I’m taking that as a compliment and letting it inflate my ego.” Peter warned you.
“Your ego must be pretty big already though, right? If I was a guy your age who looked like you did and could do the things you can do, I’d be super annoying about it. Like, raise my hand in class using two fingers and ask a question that’s just a roundabout way to show off how intelligent I am kind of annoying.”
“Looks like me? Can you elaborate on that, please, miss?” He asked with a cheeky smile.
“You know.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Giant muscles. Giant brown eyes. I don’t know much about spiders but giant something else, I’m guessing. That spider bite served you well.”
“Stop. I’m shy.” Peter laughed and covered his face with his hands
“Come on.” You groaned. “You have to know you’re cute.”
“My aunt says I’m a handsome little lad.” He said and batted his eyelashes to make you laugh.
“She’s right.” You laughed. “But seriously. If my arms looked like that I’d only wear tight white shirts and ridiculously skinny jeans. And obviously slick my hair back like a Greaser. A full Soda Pop Curtis, if you will.”
“Oh, so you’re an Outsiders fan? This is me trying to maintain a regular conversation while hoping my heart rate returns to normal after being bombarded with compliments, by the way.” Peter said with a rosy blush on his face.
“I love The Outsiders. I’m still chasing the high I felt when my teacher played the movie for us in 5th grade and Soda Pop came out of the shower in the beginning. I think all the girls in that room remember that moment. I haven’t felt that way since.”
“Really? Never?”
“Maybe once or twice.” You smiled fondly at him.
“Well, to answer your question, I am actually a total loser at school and have an ego the size of a walnut. No one knows I can do the things I can do so I’m just another goofy goober on campus.”
“How can you saw you’re a goober when you’ve probably saved the life of every person in your school? More than once I might add.”
“Because I didn’t do that stuff. Spiderman did.” He explained. “When I’m on campus, I’m just me. It’s the only way to protect my identity. I have to let all the credit go to someone else.”
“Okay, I get not taking credit to remain humble and anonymous and what not, but what about all the other cool stuff you can do? I’ve seen you move a refrigerator with ease and casually run a mile without breaking a sweat. How do you resist the urge to show off all the time?”
“Because I wasn’t some sports star before I was bitten so it would be highly suspicious if I showed up one day and started dunking on everyone and breaking their ankles and third sports term. I only want to use my abilities to help people. Not to get popular.” He shrugged. As he spoke, you felt your crush on him turned into full blown infactuation. You’d always liked him from afar but now that you were getting to know him, he was even better than you thought.
“You’re better than me. I’d be doing backflips down the hallway and climbing on the walls. And if I got in trouble, I’d just be like “remember when New York wasn’t taken over by aliens? You’re welcome, bitch.” And then I’d swing away and probably kiss a cheerleader. Maybe even two.” You told him.
“Uh uh. My powers have definitely not gotten me any kisses from cheerleaders.” He laughed and shook his head.
“So you don’t have a girlfriend or anything?” You asked and couldn’t help but smile.
“No. My roster is empty. And I wish I could blame that on the Spiderman stuff but I can’t. I’ve never been lucky in that department.”
“I don’t understand that. You’re so…” You trailed off when you realized you were about to say too much. Peter looked at you with a coy smile and raised his eyebrows.
“So?” He asked.
“So annoying.” You insisted. “And ugly, actually.”
Luckily, he understood that you were saying the opposite of what you meant and smiled in appreciation.
“What about you? You must have a boyfriend and 10 guys lined up ready to take his place the second he falters, right?”
“11 guys.” You corrected.
“Damn. I’m sorry. I should’ve known.” He said and held up his hands in defense.
“It’s okay. How could you have known? But, um, no. No boyfriend.” You told him and watched carefully for a reaction.
“So you don’t like anyone at your school?”
“Not at school, no.”
“Oh. So there is someone.” He smirked.
“There may or may not be a boy. But he likes someone else so it doesn’t even matter.” You waved your hand in dismissal.
“Does he know you like him?” Peter asked. Your knees and elbows were touching as you sat together on that bench. You couldn’t help but notice he had gotten closer and closer as you talked.
“No.” You replied as you stared into Peter’s eyes.
“That’s obviously why he likes someone else.” Peter insisted. “I guarantee that if he knew he had a chance with you, he’d forget all about that other girl.”
“I don’t know. Do you really think that?” You asked skeptically.
“Definitely. He’d be crazy not to go for someone so…” He trailed off to give you a taste of your own medicine.
“So?” You shook his arm to urge him to continue.
“Ugly.” He replied. “Really, really ugly. Not pretty at all. Definitely not funny or charming. And a stinky rat. And ugly, if I didn’t mention that before. Ghoul like, even.”
“Thank you.” You smiled warmly, knowing he meant the opposite of what he was saying.
“You’re very welcome.” He smiled back. “So when are we doing this again?”
You did it again the next night, this time at a food truck you liked, and then a few days after that. That’s when Peter started giving you his weekends. You started hanging out more and more and grew to be close friends in just a short time. You lived at home during the week and could look forward to Peter’s almost nightly visits while he was on parol just to sit in your window and talk to you. He was so so consistent that you started leaving your bedroom door open just for him.
“I’m here. Don’t be naked.” Peter said as he climbed through your window one evening.
“I just got out of the shower. What if I was naked? Then what?” You asked as you rubbed your body cream into your skin.
“Then we’d have a funny story to tell at parties.” He said as he pulled his mask off. You couldn’t help but smile at the way his messy curls stood up on his head.
“Oh yeah? And what’s so funny about me being naked?” You teased him as you squeezed the excess water out of your hair with a towel.
“That’s not the funny part. The funny part would have been when my eyes sprang out from my head on slinkies and made an audible “boing-oing-oing” sound. Right before my head exploded and left a smoking stump on my neck.” Peter told you, making you playfully roll your eyes.
“Oh wow. Very Tom and Jerry of you.” You chuckled.
“A full Tom and Jerry. The only thing missing would be the little blue birds and or angles flying around my head but I didn’t say that one because it’s typically reserved for traumatic head injuries.”
“You’re stupid.” You laughed and shook your head endearingly at him. Peter smiled back at you
“You’re stupid.” He chuckled. “You smell good.”
You really liked being friends with Peter. The more time you spent with Peter, the more you found you could talk to him about anything. He seemed so interested in every little thing you said. You worried your crush suddenly taking an extreme interest in you might be too good to be true, so you were determined to enjoy it while it lasted. And do far, it had lasted two months.
“Hey you two. Are you gonna be hungry…” Tony trailed off when he assessed the situation in front of him. You and Peter turned your heads when you heard Peter’s bedroom door open, giving Tony a full view of the green face masks you had covering your faces. You were sitting on Peter’s bed and applying masks to each others faces so your hands were full of the green goop as well. Tony looked back and forth between the two of you for a minute but eyes kept returning to the giant pink bow headband Peter had on to hold his hair back.
“Oh.” Tony nodded. “Hm. Okay.”
“Hi Mr. Stark.” Peter waved.
“I was gonna ask if you guys were hungry. But now I don’t know how to feel.” Tony said with a blank expression.
“We’re okay. We door dashed some food. Thank you, though.” You replied.
“No problem. Try not to have too much fun, ladies.” Tony snickered and closed the door.
“He doesn’t get us.” Peter rolled his eyes and smeared some of the face mask across your forehead. You smiled at the mention of “us” and stared into his eyes.
“He wishes he was gonna have clarified skin and minimized pores in 45 minutes.” You agreed.
“45 minutes? Oh shit. We should’ve brought snacks.”
“I can go grab some. I need to pee anyway.” You told him and hoped off his bed. You hit up the kitchen after the bathroom and raised the refrigerator for some snacks. When you shut the refrigerator door, Natasha was standing there watching you.
“So. Having another stay at home date with Peter?” She asked and pointed to your face mask.
“It’s not a date.” You rolled your eyes. “We’re just two friends hanging out.”
“Right. And do you share clothes with all of your friends or just the ones you don’t have feelings for?” She asked sarcastically.
“He wasn’t wearing my pants that day, okay?” You sighed. “He just asked me to embroider little molecules into his jeans and then wanted me to sign my name. Which is very normal for two friends to do.”
“So that’s not his sweatshirt you have on now?” Natasha asked and pointed to the Museum of Natural History hoodie you had on.
“It is. But-“
“But. Mm hm, yeah?” She cut you off with sarcastic interest in her voice.
“Yes, but.” You stated. “It’s too small on him now that the bite made him all big and muscly. But his uncle bought it for him and it was too sentimental to throw away so he let me have it.”
“Oh. So he gave you an article of clothing that his dead uncle gave to him? That’s very platonic of him.” Natasha said before cracking a smile.
“I don’t know what you’re implying.” You played dumb.
“I’m implying that you two are dating but pretending you’re not.”
“What?” You forced a laugh. “We are not dating.”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re not fooling anyone with that. Why don’t you just call a spade a spade and make out already?”
“Because it’s not a spade. Your mom’s a spade. We’re just friends.” You insisted and felt glad your face mask was covering up your embarrassed blush.
You went back to Peter’s room with the snacks and pushed Natasha’s comments from your mind. Peter could tell that something was bothering but he didn’t push it.
You spent the next few nights at home but headed back to the tower to spend the weekend. You knew Peter would be arriving later that night so you got ready in your room while you waited. You scrolled on your phone while you did your makeup and came across an article on the body cream you’d been wearing lately. You started to read it but got distracted by the sound of people in the downstairs. You left your room and took the elevator down to see if it was Peter, but found Wanda and Natasha instead.
“Oh, hey. I was just telling Nat I got that cream you told us about. It just smelled so good on you.” Wanda told you.
“Did you? Tell me what you think of it. It works really well but I think I have to stop wearing it. I was just reading online that apparently it attracts….” You trailed off and pulled out your phone to show Wanda the article. You got distracted by a text from Peter telling you that he had arrived. You furrowed your eyebrows and stared at the text as things started to make sense in your head.
“Attracts what?” Wanda asked you. You looked up to answer her but got distracted by Peter walking in.
“Spiders.” You told her as you stared at Peter.
“Hey, Y/n.” Peter greeted with a smile. “Come with me up to the roof. I have something to show you.”
Peter took your hand and started pulling you towards the elevators. You were still lost in thought but regained composure enough to look at the girls while you were being pulled away.
When you got to the roof, the sun was just beginning to sink into the city skyline, making for a peaceful atmosphere. There were some snacks set out and a sheet you recognized from Peter’s room.
“What’s this?” You turned to him to ask. He was already staring at you and watching carefully for a reaction.
“You said you’d been so busy with homework lately that you don’t even realize when it becomes night so I thought we could take a mental break together and watch the sunset.” Peter explained with a sheepish smile. You lit up when you heard his plan and forgot all about the article.
“You planned this for me?”
“I didn’t want you to work yourself to death. You’re gonna do fine on your finals. You’re the smartest person I know. Other than, like, the two super genius’s I know. But you’re definitely up there.” He assured you. You broke into a smile and threw your arms around him to thank him. He stumbled back a little a before wrapping his arms around you and hugging you back.
“Thanks, Peter. This is really sweet.” You said and pulled away just enough to look at him. You stayed with your arms wrapped around each other as the sun began to set around you.
“You’re very welcome.” He said with a fond smile. You stared into his eyes and felt his magnetic force pulling you towards him. Peter’s eyes dropped down to your lips before a rosy blush covered his face. You couldn’t believe what was about to happen was actually happening. He started to lean in and cracked a smile just before your lips could touch.
“God, you smell amazing.” He whispered to you. You snapped out of your trance and took a step back from him.
“Oh my God.” You gasped. “I knew it.”
“Wait, what? Knew what?” Peter forced a laugh and tried not to look as disappointed as he felt that the moment had ended.
“You don’t even like me. You’re just attracted to my delicious smelling body cream!” You shouted and pointed an accusatory finger at him.
“Woah, what? I have been accused of so many things but that is truly a first.” Peter said and held up his hands in defense.
“I bet this whole thing was a set up just so that you could sniff me!” You gasped and pointed his picnic.
“What are you even talking about?” He matched your tone and pulled his hair in exasperation. You put your hand over your heart to catch your breath as you looked between him and his setup. Everything made sense now. Peter started talking to you the moment you opened up that jar of body cream. He only wanted to hang out with you once you started wearing it. And as you stood there on the roof with him and realized it never had anything to do with you, you felt gutted.
“I thought…I thought you liked me.” You said in a quiet voice as your face sank with disappointment. Peter turned red all the way to his ears and laughed in embarrassment.
“I do like you.” He said quietly.
“But not for me.” You shook your head. “For the way I smell.”
“What? That’s crazy?” He laughed is dismissal. You rolled up your sleeves and walked back over to him to hold your arm under his nose.
“You like this.” You told him.
“Damn, that smells good.” Peter whispered as he took in your scent.
“See? It’s my body cream. It attracts spider. Whatever is lingering in your DNA from the bite makes you attracted to this specific scent.” You grumbled as you pushed your sleeves back down.
“Huh. That explains why I got a boner in Sephora the other day.” He realized.
“Why were you in Sephora?”
“I was getting us more face masks. I even used your email so you could get the points.”
“You did?” You asked and cracked a smile. Peter looked at you sympathetically and took a step towards you.
“I had a whole night planned for us. I was gonna bring you up here to watch the sunset. And I brought snacks you like. Even disgusting Salt and Vinegar chips.”
“I love those.”
“I know you do, for some odd reason. And once the sun had set, I was gonna go downstairs with you to do the face makes. I got you a panda because you like them and mine looks like Hello Kitty, see?” Peter said and he pulled the masks out of his bag.
“Very impressive selection.”
“I know. Once we had them on, I was gonna tell you that you’re the only person I don’t feel like I need to wear a mask with. Or you’re the only person who makes me feel the way I do when I’m wearing my mask. In parenthesis, my Spiderman mask. Which implies you make me feel invincible. I don’t know. It was gonan be some mask related metaphor that I was hoping would come to me in the moment.”
“Why did you need a mask related metaphor?”
“So I could ease the tension and segway into telling you that I like you.” He admitted with a timid smile.
“You do?” You asked skeptically. Peter nodded his head and put his hands on your shoulders.
“I wouldn’t do all this for you just because I liked the way you smell. And believe me, I love the way you smell. If I could shrink you down using the Honey I Shrunk the Kids machine and shove you up my nose, I would. But I like a million other things about you too that don’t involve the olfactory bulb.”
“Then how come we only started hanging out once I started using the body cream?”
“Okay, I’ll admit, I got a whiff of the body cream and basically floating in the air down the hallway into your room like a cartoon pig being lead to a pie.” Peter prefaced. “But that was just the first time you wore it. It gave me the confidence to ask you to hang out which is something I’d been wanting to do since we met. And once we started hanging out and I learned all these new things about you, I liked you even more. Which I didn’t know was possible because I was already listening to Lana Del Ray and pretending you wrote the songs about me. When you started smelling divine, that was just the icing on an already big cake. I’m talking Cake Boss level size cake that’s mostly made of Rice Krispies and plastic tubes.”
“So now I’m divine? I thought I was ugly and not funny or charming at all.” You teased him as you stepped even closer.
“You’re right. I still find you very unattractive and don’t want to be your boyfriend and l definitely don’t want to kiss you-“
You cut him off by pulling him by the shirt into a kiss. He stopped talking immediately to kiss you back, putting his hands on your face to pull you closer.
“You smell so fucking good.” He growled and pulling you closer by the waist. You giggled against his lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck.
You and Peter eventually retired to the sheet to watch the rest of the sun set. You laid on his chest and listened to his heart beating while the scent of his cologne filled your nose. You went back downstairs hand in hand once the sky was dark and passed by Wanda in the living room.
“Goodnight, Wanda.” You smiled at her as you and Peter walked by.
“Goodnight.” She replied and waved her fingers. Peter stopped suddenly in his tracks and looked at Wanda.
“Woah.” He smiled. “You smell really good, Wanda. What do you have-“
“Oh, no you don’t.” You cut him off and pulled him by the back of his shirt away from her.
“It’s the cream.” Peter said in defeat. “I’m defenseless to the cream.”
Tag List 🏷️
@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling
@tom-hollands-wifey
@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings
@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101
@peterparkoure
@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr
@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland
@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave​ ​
@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant
@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger
@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie
@maybemona
@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom
@pandaxnienke
 @officialsimppage @peterbenjiparker @itsemohours
@freakofmusic25 @tomholland85
@olixerwxxd @leilanixx
@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep @white-wolf1940
@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing
@mathletemadison  
@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr
@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu
@ciarahollands
@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy
1K notes · View notes
noobsquasher · 2 years
Note
Love your writing omg, can you pls pls write one where y/n has never had an orgasm before and is really innocent so her best friend Peter (who’s kinda dominant) helps her by going down and fingering her??
Say Yes To Heaven ✮
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Word count: 3.1k
Warnings: unprotected sex, praising, degrading, fingering, oral sex (reading receiving), swearing, etc
Summary: Your best friend, Peter is shocked to hear that you've never had an orgasm before. So in return, he offers to give you your first.
Notes: Peter Parker x Female Reader
All characters in this story are 18+
I know. 6 months since I've uploaded something, but here's another toe-curling smut for you <3 thanks for all love I've been receiving even though I've been gone.
------
“Which one is this for?” You asked, holding the foreign Lego piece, not knowing where to place it. 
“Oh! That’s the last piece I was looking for. Put that on the top, right here.” He pointed to the arch of the plastic building, indicating where to put it. 
You leaned over, carefully moving forward to gently connect the Lego pieces. 
“There! Voila!” You cheered, impressed that you finished about a quarter of your Hogwarts Lego project with Peter. 
“Great! Now we have about… 1,500 more pieces to go!” 
You took a deep breath, already tired of how long you guys have been building this. You took a look outside, the sky was painted with deep rose and tangerine, slight hints of indigo parading the ends of the horizon. 
“Pete, let’s take a break. I’m hungry.” You stood up, making your way towards his kitchen. 
“Uh, sure. What do you wanna eat? I have…” he followed you before opening his fridge, checking to see what he had in store, “Well, I um… I don’t really have much. May hasn’t gone shopping yet.” 
“What about pizza?” You proposed. 
“I have pizza dough. You wanna make it ourselves?” 
“Make pizza with you? The last time you were in charge of cooking, the fire department showed up not even an hour later.” 
“Hey! That was one time like forever ago!” 
“That happened last week, Peter.” 
He narrowed his eyes at you, huffing. You giggled. 
“Look, it’ll be fun! Us two, cooking, creating something homemade. Come on.” Those big brown eyes of his practically begged you with just the bat of an eyelash. 
You gazed at him, a smile creeping up your face. 
“Fine. But I’m in charge of oven duty, not you.”
Afterward, you two started your cooking adventure. Having Peter even be in the kitchen was already a fire hazard, so you took on most of the work, letting him do the easy parts. 
You watched intently as he rolled out the pizza dough, a pretty smile on his face as he enjoyed the activity. 
You couldn’t help but get lost in the minuscule act, something so small doing so much to your heart. You felt pure infatuation run through your veins, your eyes practically twinkling as you watched the person you loved most. 
You knew crushing on your best friend would have you end up in a ditch, a hole deep and wide enough to keep you from crawling out, a dark abyss that held all your pent-up feelings. Emotions that pricked you each time you saw Peter’s heart-wrenching smile. 
You didn’t know if he liked you back, you wondered if it was even a possibility, hoped there was a small part of him that felt the same way you did. 
You’ve known him forever, he’s been your sidekick since you could remember. Even when you found out that he was Spiderman, you still stuck with him through thick and thin, never leaving his side. 
You never thought your relationship would turn up the way it has, but now you are stuck. Adhered to this impending adoration you hold for Peter fucking Parker. 
Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t even realize when Peter tried to catch your attention.
“Hey? You alright, my love?” He looked concerned, slight fear on his face. 
“What?” 
“Why do you have that look on your face?” 
“Huh? What look?” 
He gazed at you, studying your features, eyes marked to your chest, 
“Nothing. Um, I’m done with the dough. I already put the sauce on it.” 
You took a deep breath, reaching over the kitchen island to grab the sliced cheese. 
“Here, put the mozzarella on it.” 
When the pizza was prepared, you took the pan and placed it inside the oven, setting it. 
“Okay, we just gotta wait a little while, and then it’s done.” You announced. 
“Alright. So… what do you wanna do?” Peter leaned against the counter, looking down at you. His stance sent strange chills down your spine, you gulped, trying to get your conscience together. 
“I- I dunno. What do you wanna do?” 
“Wanna watch a movie?” 
“If you say Star-“ 
“Star Wars. There are new episodes of the man-“ 
“No, Peter. I’m not watching that shit again.” 
“Why not?! You made me sit through five Twilight movies!” 
“Don’t act like you're not on team Edward!” 
“I’m team, Alice!” 
You gazed at him, a grin staining your lips before you rolled your eyes, letting out a laugh. He couldn’t help but laugh at himself, the two of you cackling together. 
“Okay, alright, we don’t need to watch Star Wars again. For your sake.” He put his hand on your arm, squeezing it. 
You gazed up at him, your cheeks suddenly heating up. 
“Uh… let’s just talk, until the pizza is done.” 
He nodded his head, walking back to the living room to grab a seat on the couch. 
You sat next to him, keeping a safe enough distance from him, for your sake, and your panties, of course. 
“So, tell me something about yourself.” 
You grinned, 
“You know everything about me, Pete. You’ve known me forever.” 
“Yeah, but people still hold secrets. Tell me one of yours.” 
You kept your eyes on him, crossing your arms. 
I’m in love with you. 
“You first, Parker.” 
“Hm… well, this secret is one of my worst. Truly horrific.” You tilted your head at him, “I’m… I’m a Leo man.” He confessed, putting his head into his hands as if he was terrified at what he just shared. 
You gasped in mock offense, 
“Leo?! Oh god, no!” You wailed, covering your eyes. 
He laughed, shaking his head, 
“I know… I know, It’s my biggest character flaw.” 
You giggled,
“My biggest character flaw is not being able to have an orgasm.” You admitted, sharing a personal confession with Peter. 
His brows knit together, his gaze shifting. 
“What do you mean?” 
“Well… I’ve only had sex once, and the guy didn’t make me finish. And I’ve you know… experimented with myself before, but I’ve never really had that big O every woman talks about. I’m kinda… embarrassed. I feel like there’s something wrong with me, you know? Guys can get off so easily, but then when it comes to women who are inexperienced and who don’t know much about their bodies, it’s a whole other situation.” 
Peter listened intently, showing care in what you had to say. 
“So, you’ve never had a real orgasm?” He gently asked. 
“Not really.”
He kept his eyes on you, analyzing your body language. 
You felt the invisible tension between you two wrap around your neck, practically suffocating you with your vulnerability. You felt your heart race, wanting to change the subject. 
“Anyway, uh… I um, I think the pizza is ready.” You hastily stood up, making your way towards the kitchen. 
“It's not ready yet, but it smells good.” You say, inhaling the mouth-watering scent that’s filled the room. 
You felt Peter creep behind you, placing a careful hand on your waist. You didn’t jump at his touch, instead, you melted, leaning towards him. 
“You haven’t had an orgasm yet?” His tone held genuine concern as if he really cared about your situation. 
“It’s- it’s nothing, Peter. You shouldn’t-“ 
“Can I… can I show you how it feels?” 
You were nearly thrown back, almost dumbfounded at his words. 
“W-what?” 
“I’m a firm believer that every woman should be able to have a good orgasm every once in a while. You are such a hard worker, honey. You put in so much care and effort into your everyday life and into the people you love and… and I just can’t see how you haven’t blown up with all that stress you must have.” You were completely starstruck by Peter at the moment, you thought your feet had molded into the floor, “Let me… let me take care of you. Show you how good it feels to finally let go, and have that earth-shattering orgasm you’ve been waiting for.” 
You stood staring at him, unable to open your mouth. Had he just said what you thought he did? Propose an offer that would completely change your life. 
“Peter, you- you don’t need to do that for me. I know you care about me and all, but it’s not your responsibility.” 
“I know, but this feels like it is. I want you to have this experience, to step into a new path in your life.” 
You gazed into his honeyed orbs, contemplating the idea. 
This would be a whole new venture for you, a life-altering experience that you’ve been dying for. Denying the offer seemed like a foolish choice. 
“…It’s okay if you don’t-“ 
“I want to. I want to experience it.” 
He blinked, 
“Are you sure? Like one hundred percent positive?” 
“You're right, Peter. I need to experience this, I need to let go for once.” 
His eyes never left yours as a smile stained his lips. 
“So, we’re doing this? We’re really doing it?” He questioned, leaning closer to you. His chestnut orbs sparkled with underlying excitement, as did yours. 
“We’re really doing it.” 
-
As soon as Peter peeled off your sticky panties, your mind started to ramble. 
Has Peter done this before? If so, how come he hasn’t told me? Does he like me too? He wouldn’t do this just as a friendly gesture, would he? How does this affect our relationship from now on? Is he—
“Hey… hey, you're alright. I’m here, Angel.” The nickname slipped out his lips so smoothly, so perfectly, it nearly stopped your heart. 
He was so gentle with you, rubbing your thighs carefully, whispering soft affirmations to soothe you, treating you like something so fragile, a thin layer of glass. 
“Are you sure you wanna keep going?” You felt your heart thump throughout your body as you looked down at him, his face inches away from your velvety folds. 
“I mean- my pussy is already in your face so…” he chuckled, his warm laugh calming you. 
“Alright… if I’m hurting you or anything, please speak up. Don’t be afraid to talk to me.” 
“I will don’t worry.” 
He took one more look at you before his thumb trailed to your throbbing clit, drawing slight circles around it. The instant shock had your head thrown back, soft moans escaping your lips. 
“Shit… you're already soaked. Did I do this to you?” He continued his movements, playing with you like a guitar, pulling each string with pure delicacy, with one prominent goal in mind. You whimpered, breath heavy. 
“Tell me, Angel. Who did this to you?” 
Suddenly, his finger sunk inside you, almost too easy. You let out a roar, chest rising and falling as your gaze narrowed to the curly-haired boy between your legs. 
“You! You did, Peter! All you!” The pleasure was overwhelming, you felt your entire body heat up, your mind spinning. 
His fingers curled inside you, hitting that sweet spot of yours. You gasped, gripping onto his bed sheets as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. 
“Good girl… such a sweet girl. You like that?” He praises, fingers digging deeper. You can’t help but continue to moan, eyes closed as you take in how fucking amazing this feels. Suddenly, you feel Peter’s hand slap your throbbing clit. You yelp, looking back at him. 
“Eyes down here, baby. Look at me while I make you come.” His sugared demands came as a surprise to you. 
Never have you seen Peter in this light before. It makes you feel a type of way, an instant feeling of desire. All you wanted was him. All of him. Every single inch of his cock just buried inside you. 
“Peter! Oh- oh fucking god!” You felt something burn within you, complete ecstasy running through your veins as Peter’s thick fingers continued to destroy you. 
“Talk to me, princess. Tell me what you want.” Your eyes practically burned into one another, Peter’s chestnut orbs were filled with lust. You wished he could always look at you like this. 
“I want- shit, I want to come. Please, please let me come. I’m begging you!” He smiles, diving into you as his hot tongue starts to draw circles around your little bundle of nerves. Harsh moans escape your lips, your legs starting to shake. 
It was as if his lips were a work of magic, moving them in such an inconceivable rhythm that you thought your mind was going to explode. With how he was devouring your soaked pussy and playing with that honeyed spot within you, it felt like you finally reached nirvana. 
Is this what heaven feels like? 
“Such a sweet pussy,” he groans, fingers hooked inside you, 
“God, you taste so fucking good. I could eat this pussy all night. Shit. Why didn’t you let me fuck you sooner?” He dives back into his succulent meal. 
You couldn’t answer him as crying out your moans was the only thing you could do. You started to wonder if this was really happening. Was Peter about to give you your first orgasm? 
You even realize that he’s been humping the mattress this whole time, fucking out his throbbing boner. 
“God! Peter! I’m gonna- I’m gonna come!” Your chest thumps rigorously, all your nerves start to light a fuse inside you. You start to feel lightheaded, bliss starting to kick in as Peter continues to play with your body like his own goddamn toy. “I’m- I’m gonna-“ 
Suddenly, he stops. You quickly look at him, all your limbs trembling as you whine. 
“Why- why did you-“ 
“All this time I’ve been waiting, just fucking dreaming about this baby. 
Now that I’ve got you, I’ll never let you go. I want- no, I need to feel you wrapped around my cock. I gotta make a mess inside you if you’ll let me. I’ll promise to make you cum on my cock for all eternity if you do.” 
You stared at him, completely dumbfounded. You needed at least three to five business days to process what he just said. 
“Please, babygirl. I’m begging you.” 
You laid still, those glossy orbs of yours stuck to the man before you. 
“If you don’t want that it’s alright, I’ll just—“ his ramblings were cut short as your lips connected to his, kissing him with such passion that tiny whimpers escaped Peter. You gripped onto his curls, pulling him into you. 
“Shut up and fuck the living shit outta me.” 
-
To say that Peter’s cock was big was an understatement. You’ve never seen something so beautiful. It was thick, long, veiny, and absolutely angelic. 
“Holy shit.” You blurt, eyes locked onto his leaking tip. 
“What? Is it too big? Or too—“
“No- Peter. Your dick is so… wow.” 
“Really? Do you think so? I always thought it was—“ You shut him up again with your puffy lips, you couldn’t wait any longer to have him deep inside you. 
“I don’t want you to go easy on me. Just fuck me like there’s no tomorrow, baby. I need you.” You plead before ripping off your top, your breasts falling in front of him. His chocolate orbs immediately stared at them. 
“Can I suck on them?” He asks softly, his hand grasping onto your pebbled nipple. You nod your head, biting your lip in anticipation. 
He lays you back down onto his sheets, his pink lips immediately attaching to your chest. You whine with pleasure, his hand reaching down to your abused clit to play with it again. 
His candied kisses mark your body with much love as if he’s branding you.
Never have you felt this euphoric.
You feel his cock brush over your cunt, as if he was asking permission to completely indulge inside you. 
“You have my word, Petey. Please let me feel you.” 
His pupils widen before he catches a kiss on your lips. As your tongues dance together, his large length slips inside you, stretching you out with blazing felicity. You both moan in desire, wanting more. 
His thrusts increase as he brings your knees up to his chest, completely fucking you insane like how you begged him to. 
The bed bangs against the wall as he pounds his cock within you, your cries filling the room. 
“Oh! Just like that! Fuck, Peter!” 
“You feel so fucking good. My god… such a tight pussy. Jesus Christ— I could cum already.” He groans, kissing you. You whine against his lips, arms wrapping around his back to pull him deeper. 
“You fucking slut. You love my cock, don’t you? Can’t get enough?” 
“Never! Oh, my fucking—“ you didn’t think he could sink any further, but when his cock hit your cervix, you completely lost your mind. 
You could feel him throb within you, your walls gripping onto him for dear life, never wanting to let him go. 
Harsh claps ran around his bedroom, you were definitely gonna feel the aches in the morning. 
Peter was right, why didn’t you let him fuck you sooner? His cock was addictive, this was a feeling you could never get over. 
You started to go numb as he pounded you senseless, utter babbles were all you could make out. 
“Already cock-drunk, baby? That dumb brain of yours can’t handle my pretty cock? Huh?” He teased. 
You honestly didn’t even know what he said. All you could feel was that huge cock inside you just absolutely tearing you up from the inside, and out. 
You felt that burning feeling again, soon realizing that you were gonna make a mess on him. 
“Gonna let me feel you? Come on, Angel. Let me feel you.” 
Suddenly, it happened. 
Your back brutally arched as all your muscles tightened, your intense orgasm raging throughout your body. You screamed Peter’s name like a damn prayer, trembling harshly as your cunt gripped Peter’s cock with all its glory. It was unlike anything else you’ve ever endured. Staining his thick length with your saccharine cum is what enlightenment must feel like. 
He grunts, “That’s it baby, that’s it. Good girl, such a pretty slut for me, yeah? Tell me you’re all mine.”
“I’m- I’m all yours. I swear. I swear, Petey.”
He smiles before crying with triumph as he finishes inside you, painting your walls with his delicate seed. 
As the high died down, you couldn’t help but feel fulfilled. A smile pricked your lips as you started to laugh, euphoria clouding your head. Peter looked over as you were giggling like a maniac. He too busted out chuckling as it was contagious. 
“Why- why are you laughing?” 
“Because… because that was the best sex I’ve ever had! I feel so… so fucking happy.” You confessed, a huge grin attached to your lips. 
Peter blushes, softly laughing before catching a much-needed kiss on your lips. His kiss was filled with tenderness, sweet love fusing between you. 
Suddenly, a burning smell pricks your nose. 
“Peter,” you try to break the kiss but he doesn’t stop, wanting to caress you forever, “…Peter— what’s that smell?” 
“Huh? What… oh shit. The pizza!” He jumps out of bed, running butt-naked towards his kitchen. 
You sigh as you shake your head.
“Call the fucking fire department again!” 
———
Copyright © of noobsquasher 2024
7K notes · View notes
atrwriting · 6 months
Text
bffs -- alpha!peter parker x omega!reader
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hi everyone :) I know this is different than what I usually write, but like I had to lol. you'll see just trust me
as always, warnings: filthy unapologetic smut, alpha x omega relations, unprotected sex (wrap it y'all), dom!peter, sex between friends
anyways...
your heat had come.
you knew it. for days, you knew it would come. there was nothing you could do to prevent such a violent attack on your senses, mind, and body — especially since there was no alpha that you would or could think to call to help you for a couple of days.
that type of… agreement required a lot of things. one, you had to be able to trust the alpha. they would have to be able to hold back their own urges to not injure you or claim you, and they would have to understand that this was an arrangement — not a relationship. that agreement also factored in how you would basically be bedridden and useless for a few days, needed to be absolutely coked out on oxytocin, and needed to be reminded to eat and drink for a few days. there were no alphas that came to mind when going over all of these requirements in your head.
well… that’s a lie, if you’re being frank with yourself.
there was one.
there was one, but he was off limits. completely off limits.
peter parker.
peter parker was your best friend, all throughout college. you studied different things, but had a few core classes together. that led to you staying close all throughout college and post grad. you weren’t exactly sure why you had hit it off so well, given the fact that he could be a bit goofy at times, always ran off to do something secretive, and was still in love with an ex that he wouldn’t cough up the name to. you didn’t even really understand how he could be an alpha — he could be quite nervous and not confident with his thought process or actions, but you surmised that made him more agreeable to be friends with. he didn’t have an ego, even though he was an impressive individual, and that’s why you admired him.
however, when you did think about him as an alpha… that was when the lines of friendship were crossed. all you could think about were the state of his eyes looked when he was focusing on something he deemed worthy of his attention. they would darken, and he would not tear himself away from the task until it was completed. before he was satisfied, there was a permanent crease on his forehead and between his brow. his lips would part slightly, and every so often his tongue would drag across his lips before his teeth tugged his bottom lip into his mouth. when he especially got frustrated with a task, he would do all of those things at once while he would lean back in his chair and deeply sigh. his impressive chest and arm muscles would be taut and on full display as he dragged his large, open hands throughout his hair and closed his eyes for a moment. you weren’t sure what was going on between those closed eyes in his brief moment of relief, but when they opened… nothing could stop peter parker.
fuck, you thought. i have to stop.
just thinking about peter like that made something twist and turn in your abdomen. part of you knew you were pathetic by how creepy and easy it was to rile you up if peter working was what got you, but you couldn’t care — not in this state.
that was when your phone buzzed.
annoyed, you grabbed your phone and the screen illuminated.
peter: still on for today?
fuck, you thought.
you: can’t. i’m sorry. something came up.
three dots appeared, and then disappeared. you immediately felt bad for cancelling on such short notice, especially to someone as sweet as peter. you hoped he wasn’t upset or angry with you. the three dots, signaling he was typing, then reappeared.
peter: you okay? what’s up?
fuck, fuck, fuck. you were and always strived to be punctual and considerate, and he knew that. he knew you would never cancel on him unless something was wrong. damn you for being such a good person, and damn parker for being so perceptive and an even better person. fucking christ…
you: i don’t feel well today. i’m really sorry
peter: no worries, feel better :)
you sent a quick thank you before clicking your phone off and rolling back into bed. you wrapped yourself in the covers, the shape resembling a burrito, and tried to sleep the best you could. the air conditioner was blasting as high as it could and the sheets were cool and crisp against your skin. your heat was not at its peak, thankfully, and because of that you were able to find some sleep for the next few hours.
that is… until you woke up.
to a fucking knock at the door.
startled, you ripped the covers off of you and whipped your head towards the door of your studio apartment. there was a person outside, as you could see from the shadow of two feet underneath the door. the person was whistling a tune you had heard before, and only one person usually whistled it…
fucking peter.
you adjusted your shorts and cropped shirt before hopping out of bed. you hadn’t smelled him yet, so you thought you would be able to handle a small interaction with him before politely kicking him out.
you opened the door, and immediately regretted the decision.
there stood peter with a small smile on his face, and food in hand. he was clad in a flannel, dark shirt and jeans, and thick boots made for walking in the city. his hair was perfectly tousled back, and his attractive face was on full display.
as was how delicious he smelled.
“fuck —!” you gasped, rolling away from the door to hide from the doorway’s view. you pressed yourself against a wall in your apartment. “peter — you shouldn’t —“
“what’s wrong?” he asked, immediately stepping into your apartment and in front of you.
god… he must’ve thought you looked so pathetic. there was a light sheen of sweat on your skin, skimpy pajamas, and your styled hair was ruffled from last night’s sleep. you were breathing quickly, with any part of your body you could manage pressed against the cool drywall.
he hurriedly placed down the food on a neighboring counter, and stepped towards you. “sweetheart, are you —“
“don’t,” you snapped sadly. “yes.”
“did you call anyone?” he asked, almost accusatory.
you shook your head as your body trembled.
“it’s dangerous not to,” he curtly reminded.
“i know, i know… ” you whispered softly.
“what can i —“ he began, not really sure knowing how to continue. “can i help with anything?”
you shook your head. “peter — you have to go — you smell so good and it’s — it hurts so bad, peter.”
the pain of desire and arousal spread from your core, to your womb, to your chest, and every single one of your limbs. you felt the top layer of your skin begin to buzz, and you whined at the feeling. you tried not to breathe through your nose, because when you did… every single muscle fiber in your body was screaming at you to reach for peter and ask him to help.
but your feet remained planted… just barely.
peter’s jaw clenched as his eyes drifted up and down your body. “...you smell good, too.”
your eyes immediately flicked up to his face, your expression wild. “don’t imply anything like that to me in this state. i have no control, and i don’t want to make you uncomfortable, peter — you’re my friend. please, peter, you should —“
“who said you were making me uncomfortable?” he took a small step towards you once more.
you stared into his eyes.
they were dark.
they were dark, and focused... just how you liked them.
you whined in pain, trying to mask it as a hum but failed.
“the question is...” he began. “am i making you uncomfortable?”
you tried to control of your labored breathing, but it was difficult when his scent invaded every single one of your senses. “no, peter, but —“
“would you want this,” he gestured his hand between the two of you, “if you weren’t in heat?”
you couldn’t stop yourself. you nodded in agreement, and looked down to the floor in shame. tears began to leak from your eyes at the pain that sent shockwaves all throughout your body. it was growing more and more difficult to remain upright.
“then what’s the problem, sweetheart?” he asked in his new york drawl. “you want me to take care of you?”
“fuck…” you seethed, his words scratching at every itch you had in your body. “you can’t say th-things like that, peter…”
“why not?” he asked, feigning innocence. “want me to stop?”
you didn’t answer.
he took one more step, and you could’ve crumbled then and there. “or do you want me to keep going?”
you sobbed, “i do.”
part of you thought that was all of the permission he needed to jump your bones, but he didn’t. he remained in his place, before he asked you another question.
“tell me what you’re worried about before we do that,” he ordered softly.
the command made your knees buckle, but you stayed standing as you sucked in sharp breaths of air. you wiped at your tears, trying to hold onto whatever sense you still possessed. “i don’t want to mess up our friendship — and i don’t even know if you would want this if i wasn’t like this —“
“baby, i’ve wanted you for a long time,” he answered lowly. his eyes were dark as he folded his lip into his mouth, licking the skin. “we can talk about it after, i promise, but right now… sweetheart, let me take care of you.”
something broke within you, and your knees buckled. “oh, peter…”
peter’s quick reflexes caused him to catch you before you fell, and he immediately pulled you up. you felt like you were floating then, finally in the arms of an alpha that seemed trustworthy. you felt his strong hand gently press against the base of your skull, and nudge you slightly into the crook of his neck. immediately, his scent hit you.
it felt like you were provided the sustenance you needed to at least be present in the moment once more. your heat had almost caused you to pass out, but being able to smell and lick at peter’s scent glands woke you up enough so that you were able to be aware of your surroundings and give into the carnal urge of taking the pleasure offered. peter held you upright and let out soft moans as you scented him, rubbing your back as you continued.
“fuck, you smell — that feels so good,” he rasped, his voice lowering. “so sweet.”
suddenly, peter’s fingers on the back of your neck tightened around your strands of hair and lifted your head back slightly. you broke from his skin with a gasp, saddened to have been taking away from the comfort you were provided, but then… it was peter’s turn.
he lowered his head to your scent glands and began sucking on the skin. you threw your head back into his hand and moaned into the open air above your head. you couldn’t see peter in your peripheral, but you knew his eyes were closed with a firm crease between his brow as his lips formed the perfect position to suck at your sweet and supple skin. the pressure was hard, and it hurt, but it was so fucking welcome. the electric shocks of pain were gone, and now were replaced with mind-numbing lust that made you selfish. you knew he would want some time scenting you as well, but you couldn’t let him. you needed him now.
“please, peter,” you whined. “i need you now, please…”
he chuckled against your skin, and pressed his flat tongue on the base of your neck and dragged it all the way up to your jaw. you gasped at the sensation before he planted a wet kiss by your ear. “you’re going to tell the alpha what to do, sweetheart, that it?”
you almost would’ve giggled and been playful back if you weren’t so consumed with desire. “i’m begging you, peter — please do something. it hurts so bad.”
“oh, you needy little thing…” he cooed before a heavy, large hand slipped its way into your shorts. “in these tiny little shorts…”
when peter finally slipped in fingers along your folds, you jumped in his hold. he chuckled darkly against your earlobe, which immediately melted you against him. you were putty to him then — a lust-numb omega who would do anything for him to make her feel good.
“so wet for me,” he rasped. “i was so mad at you when you told me you didn’t call someone — didn’t call me —“
“i’m sorry…” you whined. “please don’t stop…”
“oh, sweetheart, you feel so good i don’t think i could,” he spoke lowly. “you were so wrong not to call, but a pretty and needy thing like you doesn’t to deserve to be in pain like this, does she?”
you shook your head pathetically, tears coming to your eyes. “no, peter — please take the pain away.”
“i know, baby, i know…” he rasped once more as the pads of his middle and ring finger flattened against your bud, drawing rough circles. “you going to be good for me, now? tell me what you need?”
you pushed against his hand that held your head upright as the pleasure of his movements filled your womb with an intense feeling of warmth. you began to tremble in his arms, letting out small, pleased sighs… but you had ignored his question, and peter didn’t like that.
he slipped his hand away from your clit, and began to stroke the outside, drenched lips of your core.
“peter…” you begged in frustration, turning your head to look at him. you had never seen his eyes so fucking dark and focused — and full of desire. “peter — you promised.”
he laughed darkly. “i’ll keep my promise, if you promise to be good for me.”
“i’ll be so good for you,” you practically whined, eyes going wide and lips parting. “i promise i’ll be good for you, peter… i promise i won’t upset you again.”
“good fucking girl.”
immediately, he shoved his two fingers inside your entrance and pressed his thumb against your clit. before you could react, his mouth was on yours and stifled the moans that left your pretty lips. he shoved his tongue in your mouth, and the feeling of being so full made you whine in pleasure passed his lips. he swallowed your moans whole as he dragged the soda of his fingers in rough circles around your bud.
“oh, alpha…” you cried into him. “i needed this so badly. please keep going, please…”
“still don’t trust me?” he chuckled, slipping in his tongue to tangle with you. “trust your alpha, baby, i got you.”
...and trust you did.
peter immediately let go of you so he could lift you up by the back of your thighs. the pads of his finger dig deliciously into your flesh and the warmth of his body pressed so tightly against yours provided you so much comfort. you began to suck at his neck as he had done to yours, and a deep rumble sounded within his rib cage.
he was fast as he went for your bed, laying you down on the edge. you went to raise yourself and reach for him, but he wouldn’t allow it. with a smirk, he ordered you back down on the bed. begrudgingly, you pouted and laid back down.
peter took his time taking off his clothes, layer by layer, as he gazed down at you. a small circle of slick was collected by your shorts, embarrassment rising to your cheeks. you bit your lip as you gazed at his bare upper body. for a nerd, peter’s thick muscles were some of the most mouth-watering things you had ever seen. his shoulders, his traps, his biceps, his forearms — he was killing you as you stared at him, not allowing you to touch him.
maintaining eye contact, he fell to his knees on the floor. he was face to face with your clothed cunt and open thighs, but his eyes were on you. only you.
“don’t take your eyes off me, sweetheart,” he ordered. “do that for me?”
you nodded meekly.
he spread your folds so that nothing was standing in the way of him and your clit. almost immediately, his thick, wet tongue was working at where you were most sensitive. it was growing harder and harder to keep your eyes open and not throw your head back, lost in pleasure, but you kept your promise to him. you had folded your lips underneath each other to keep yourself upright and tamed, but you did what he asked.
what got you the most, though… was the fact that peter parker looked lost in a dream-like state as he ate you out. his eyes drifted closed and there was no crease in his forehead as tongue made the sweetest movements against your clit. one of his strong hands held one of your thighs in place, preventing you from moving either, when his other hand lifted up. he slid two fingers easily into you, and immediately started curling them and pressing them upwards into the wall inside you.
“oh my —“ your voice cracked as your eyes threatened to close. “god — christ — peter —“
you were barely making sense at this point. your hips were trying to roll against peter, but he held you down and in place. eventually, he pressed a flat hand against your lower abdomen and you thought you saw fucking stars. immediately… you threw your head back against the bed in defeat, writhing and on the verge of crying.
“hey,” he immediately snapped, taking his tongue off of you and rising so he was bent over you. “what did i say?”
with a whimper, you raised yourself to your elbows and looked at him shamefully. “to keep my eyes on you.”
his movements were halted, but his hand on your stomach felt so good as his fingers inside of you were still pressed against your upper wall and frozen in place. “was goin’ to be nice, but now i don’t think i am.”
he gave you a wet and sloppy kiss, but almost immediately withdrew as he kept his face inches from yours. you reached for his neck, holding the back of his head like he had held yours by the front door.
“please,” you whimpered. “i’m sorry… when you put your fingers inside me, and pressed down on my stomach… it just felt so good. please, don’t stop —“
you were on the verge of sobbing as he dangled what you wanted in front of your face. a smirk crept up onto his face, and you knew you were in for it. “felt too good for you, baby, that it?”
“i didn’t want it to stop,” you whimpered again, bucking your hips against his hand. “peter…”
“since you didn’t want to listen,” he began, slowly moving his fingers inside you once more. hummed in enjoyment, but kept your gaze on his face. “you only get my fingers for now. eye contact, or i take them away and leave. got it?”
“yes, yes.” you nodded frantically, twisting the ends of his hair in your fingers. “please, i’ll listen now.”
that was until his fingers started moving faster and harder.
his lips were mere inches from yours, but you were scared that if you kissed him that would obstruct your line of sight from his. you kept your distance, even though it was three inches, and tried your best to listen to him as peter absolutely wrecked the inside of you.
the sounds that left your lips were so fucking pathetic that it brought a deep blush to the tips of your cheeks. your womb felt like it was coming to life as peter worked and worked your sweetest and deepest parts, while pressing down on your stomach which only heightened the sensations.
“it feels so good…” you whined, tears feeling like they were going to spring from your eyes. “feels so good i could cry.”
“take it for me, baby,” he hoarsely said, eyes the darkest you had ever seen them. “show your alpha what a good girl you can be.”
he slipped a third finger in, and you were fucking gone.
he stretched you painfully and perfectly that you couldn’t stop the tear or two that leaked from your eye. your throat went hoarse with the pleasured gasps and sounds you were making, but your eyes never left peter’s unless it was to blink away the tears.
“that good, baby?” he taunted with a smirk. “making you feel that good?”
you hummed in approval, nodding pathetically. sobs left your lips as your nerve endings felt like they were shooting lightning. peter was fucking you with his hand like his life depended on it — like your life depended on it. your hips were struggling to writhe under the weight of his palm and all you could do was tell the man before you how good he was making you feel. his smirk and the lust in his eyes grew before his thumb began to draw circles on your clit.
you saw white.
you couldn’t help it — you had to close your eyes. nothing could stop them from slamming shut as your orgasm overtook your mind, body, senses, fucking everything as it flooded through your veins, warming every part of your being. it was warm, it was comforting, and it was fucking everything to you in that moment. you pressed your forehead against peter’s and just fucking sobbed.
“that’s it, baby,” he cooed. “that’s it.”
you whined in approval at his words and how his movements did not stop as you rode out your orgasm.
“such a good girl, taking everything i give you…” he pressed a wet kiss to the side of your face. “i know, sweetheart, i know… just keep cumming for me.”
you were shaking as you rode out their last wave of your orgasm before you smashed your lips to peter’s. it was sloppy, the way your tongues tangled with each other. his fingers still played gently inside of you as you shivered, moving away from his hands.
“you sensitive, baby?” he laughed. “can’t take it?”
your teeth sank into your lip as you shook your head. “need your cock, peter. please.”
he immediately straightened and stood up. you were sat on the bed, arms fully locked and extended behind you, with your knees bent and feet planted on either side of the bed. your pussy was drenched with your own juices, leaking down into the once perfectly clean sheets. your cheeks blushed as you gazed up at the man before you through your thick lashes.
“greedy girl,” he stated lowly, returning your gaze. you watched his long fingers unlatch his belt before you helped him pull his pants and boxers down. “your hips were fighting me so badly, baby. what? you wanna get on top?”
part of you was taken by surprise. it was common among omegas and alphas to fuck in missionary or from behind, and you were expecting that. however, part of you grew excited at the thought of having control and being able to take whatever you wanted. you smirked up at the man.
“can i?” you asked innocently. “want to feel you as deep as possible.”
he chuckled darkly before he laid back against your headboard. it was mesmerizing to see peter parker, the most accomplished man on this planet, smirk at you with such confidence. you wasted no time in swinging a leg over his hips and rushed to have him inside you.
you positioned him at your entrance, and immediately sank downwards.
if you had gone slower, the pain may have dissipated, but you needed that stretch as you lowered yourself. there was something to fucking erotic about the man below you being so big that even after being fucked by his three fingers, drenching you, you still craved that bittersweet sensation of being too small for him.
and he felt it, too.
“pussy still so tight for me,” he rasped. “you’re too good for me, aren’t you?”
you giggled at him before you began to roll your hips against him. the tip of his cock was pressed against a spot inside you that you could never dream of reaching, and it was something electrifying. it sent shivers up and down your spine, and all you could think about was how much you loved him buried inside of you.
suddenly, he sent a small slap on your ass. you gasped, and began to move faster and rougher against him.
“that’s it, sweetheart,” he grunted, hands now resting on your waist as he rolled your lower body with his. he pumped his hips upwards to meet yours, and those small whimpers began to leave your lips once again. “that’s more like it, baby. i know what that pussy needs.”
this entire time, peter had been focused on what your heat-dazed mind and body needed… and you couldn’t have cared less about what he needed. you didn’t even listen to him before, for chrissakes… you needed to be better — and you knew just the thing.
you planted one hand in front of you on his pelvis, and reached the other behind you to cup his balls. they were heavy in your hand, and your core tightened at the sensation. he let out one of the loudest and surprised moans you had ever heard in your life. it was music to your ears, and sent sparks right to your pussy. you clenched around him as he threw his head back, closing his eyes and scrunching his brow together as his lips parted in ecstasy. you rolled your hand and your hips at the same time and threw your head back. moans and whines were leaving your lips like no one could hear you, like there was no one in the world besides you and peter.
suddenly, peter pulled you towards him so you were practically pressed front to front. you continued to smash your hips with his and roll his balls in your hand as your next orgasm quickly approached. his face was at level with your breasts, which he greedily accepted the view of. he brought one hand up to roll one of your nipples between his fingers, while he roughly sucked on the other. your senses went crazy then, and all you knew was to drive your hips up and down and front and back to ensure peter’s cock never left your pussy.
“your cock’s so big, alpha,” you whined. “makes me feel so good…”
“being such a good girl for me,” he groaned against your chest, breath hot on your skin. “your alpha’s so proud of you.”
“oh, fuck, fuck, fuck —“ it was all growing too much, the pleasure. your head felt like you were swimming, and your hips were growing sloppy.
peter noticed immediately, smiling menacingly. “you got too greedy, hmm?” he threw you off of him, back flat on the bed, and you gasped in surprise. “need you to take my knot, baby. your pussy is just too good.”
he bent your thighs backwards, so your feet were in the air close to your head. immediately, he shoved his long and thick cock inside you. the head of his cock was red and angry, and you gasped as you watched it enter you and felt it press against your upper walls once more. peter planted two strong arms on either side of you as the veins in his arms made an appearance, looking more pronounced than ever. his hips were snapping against yours, and you lost all control at that moment.
“finish inside me, alpha,” you begged. “need your knot so badly.”
"oh, fuck —"
immediately, peter wrapped your hair around his fist and pulled you taut to him. you were clinging onto him for dear life — the very sustenance that he promised to give you and was giving to you tenfold. whiny, pathetic breaths and gasps were shoving past your lips and were music to peter's ears. he could practically hear, feel, taste, see, fucking sense your orgasm creeping up on you, holding you hostage. he needed to make you finish, he had to. he had to because you were in need, sure — but on some level, on some animalistic, carnal level — he needed to see you in a state of pure bliss for his own selfish need.
and he knew just what you needed.
peter immediately attached his lips to your scent glands on your neck and sucked as hard as he could. his hips drove themselves against yours, and he himself fell victim to the fall of immense pleasure. it blindfolded him and shoved him straightforward, backwards, sideways — he didn't know... he couldn't tell. all peter knew was that when he came as hard as he did, he felt his knot growing and latching itself inside you... and that's when he knew.
your tight, sopping wet pussy clenched around his knot and you came with a scream. every ounce of pain you had felt over the course of the day had left you. you were a stranger to it, any kind of pain. the only thing you knew was peter and his warm skin that felt so good against yours. your hips thrashed against his, unable to deal with the pleasure, but his strength held you down so you could not shy away from the immense relief you were so grateful for.
"good girl..." he growled. "such a good fucking girl..."
everything went black... but you knew you were safe. you were always safe with your best friend. 
---
the end. hehe
-L xo
400 notes · View notes
shawnxstyles · 11 months
Note
we need a part two when they finish the project please
sweetheart (part 2)
warnings: smut; (f- receiving [fingering, clit stimulation], praise kink, protected sex, slight cock-warming, dirty talk), and tiny fluff
note: i’m soooo sorry i haven’t been as active. once june starts i’ll be able to write more and post more stories, but right now i’m super busy. i have a few fics right now that i’ve started, but haven’t gotten the chance to sit down and finish them. so for now, please accept this blurb 😖 sweetheart part 1
you’ve always had a liking for school, in every aspect. unlike most people, you enjoyed doing homework and projects because it helped you understand the material you were learning. specifically, you adored science. you thought that the facts and what-ifs of the universe were fascinating, and you wouldn’t mind spending your whole life experimenting to discover new things. you absolutely loved chemistry and found it fun to analyze different equations to see what substance creates which reaction.
but right now, you’ve never hated science more.
peter is sitting on his computer typing away on the essay portion while you’re trying to focus on writing the poster. in all honesty, he gave you the easier job and you’re grateful, but you can’t seem to focus. not after he had his warm mouth on your pussy only two hours ago. every few moments, you would peek at peter’s fingers typing. you were getting so desperate to the point that each word he typed sent a tingle down your belly. when you two made light conversation, you swear his voice got a little deeper each time, and the rumbly rasp nearly sent you flying onto his lap.
“y/n, did you hear me?” you did not hear him.
“huh?” you blinked a few times, shaking all your dirty thoughts of his fingers from you. but they looked so rough and they moved so quickly, just like they did in you—
“are you okay?” no, you were not okay.
“uh, yeah, i’m fine,” you lied because you just wanted to finish the project, so peter could withhold his promise. that promise was the only thing getting you through this poster. there seemed to be a million facts and a lot of diagrams.
“what’d i say about lying?” peter asked with a head tilt and an octave-lower voice, his fingers halting on the keyboard. your heart skipped an erratic beat and your pencil dropped onto the poster paper.
“d-don’t do it.”
“good, you remembered,” he smirked subtly before typing away again. you take shallow breaths, wondering how he takes away your breath so easily.
the pulsing need of your clit and the burning of your stomach keep you from focusing. after ten minutes of hazily writing and sketching nonsense, you swallow your fear.
“peter, i was wondering if…we could take a break?” you suggested, pencil spinning around your anxious finger.
“sure, that sounds good,” he replies, but not the way you wanted him to. you watch as he saves his progress and closes his computer before walking around the kitchen island. he grabs two cups of water and hands one over to you when you appear at his side.
“oh, i’m not thirsty,” you smile to deny his offer.
“but you will be,” peter says nonchalantly before taking a smooth sip of his water. you feel the all-too familiar blush cascade across your neck as your eyes wander around the floor.
“are you all shy now? you didn’t seem to be when you were checking me out earlier,” peter taunts with a fake-innocent smile and places his glass on the counter. your eyes go wide for a moment, embarrassed that you were caught. “what? you didn’t think i saw you looking at me like you were going to jump on me? i know needy eyes when i see them, baby.”
the overwhelming heat of your skin fogs up your brain, making it impossible to focus on anything but the words leaving his lips. you’re silently begging him to touch you, to mend that ache in your cunt with his rough fingers. and hopefully, his cock. god, you want to see and feel his cock more than anything. you bet it would stretch you out for a whole week.
you swear you’re not normally like this.
“something’s on your mind,” peter observes with squinted eyes and a hand under his chin. “what is it?”
oh, just the idea of you fucking me into oblivion that’s all is what you wanted to say, but of course you didn’t. you mumbled out some gibberish that he couldn’t understand.
“i can’t hear you, sweetheart,” his words were so condescending, and in some twisted way, it turned you on so much.
“your promise,” you finally said, looking at his eyes. with each passing moment they grew from brown to shades darker.
“oh, i see,” peter tsks, “please, remind me what my promise was again? i seem to have forgotten.”
peter just loves games. especially the ones where he can feel your skin radiating fiery heat and watch your body squirm in its place. like he has all night, he’s been able to smell your arousal throughout the two hours you’ve been working. it utterly killed him to sit steady and type some scientific essay that wasn’t nearly as entertaining as your moans or ogasmic face. it was even worse knowing that you were just as desperate, but most likely didn’t want to interrupt your guys’ work time. what an angel you were.
but right now, peter’s never wanted to do more sinful things.
“you said…” how does he say such dirty words with ease? “you said we could continue what we were doing earlier.”
you lean your back against the counter, heart beating erratically in your chest as you try to remain cool. but your entire body was on fire and your clit was throbbing in your soaked underwear, so it was pretty difficult to stay focused.
“and what was that? use your words,” peter softly demands, licking his lips smugly. a never-ending heat cascades through your body, making your heart beat faster than ever. you breathe in, trying to get the courage to be so upfront.
“you said you would…fuck me,” you surprised yourself when you said the words. they sounded even bolder than you would have thought. every little moment he doesn’t say anything makes you think he’s just going to laugh at you. at this point, you think you’ve gone insane because you can no longer feel your heart beating. just the impending silence dangling between you two.
“good girl. now i remember,” peter smiles proudly and inches his way closer to you. his hand snakes up your neck and caresses your jaw. his thumb plays innocently with your bottom lip as your trembling breath huffs out. he could do whatever he wanted to you, and you would let him. “it wouldn’t be very nice if i didn’t keep my promise, would it?”
“no,” you waver out. your legs are stiffened together and your eyes are straining on his every move.
peter solely smirks before leaning down to kiss you. like the movies, his kiss is soft and pleasant. the way your lips molded together caused such an intense chemical reaction, and you would love to experiment on it. multiple times. every day. you would kiss him as many times as you could. you never would forget the magnetic feeling of his lips on yours.
your hands get lost in his brown hair, twisting their way through his ends. you’re so lost within his kiss that you didn’t even comprehend when he said “jump,” but you subconsciously listened and leaped into his hold. peter carried you to his bedroom, which you have been dying to see since you walked through the door. you believed someone’s bedroom said a lot about them.
however, you were too focused on other things to analyze peter’s bedroom. peter delicately lays you onto his black sheets, still kissing you like the world is ending. he slowly makes his way down your warm neck as you hum at the feeling. knowing what’s coming, you don’t wait for peter to ask permission behind discarding your own shirt. you close your eyes and tell yourself to not be self-conscious. he’s already seen you naked, so why be nervous?
seeing this, peter frowns slightly. his rough fingertip taps lightly on your temple. “open. wanna see your pretty eyes.”
your stomach tingles at his words before obeying his request. instead of smirking, peter smiles goofily and then kisses your cheek. a wave of warmth erupts through your skin at his affection. your entire body was covered in flames at this point, and you wondered if you would even be alive to get to the good part.
his tough hands roam your supple skin in hopes of exploring every inch. the rough texture left tingles in its trail.
“jeans?” he asks, looking up at you for approval.
“yes. please, peter,” you rushed and pleaded. your clit was begging for some friction, and you were about to start crying if you didn’t get something.
“gotta tell me what you want, sweetheart,” peter sang, thumbs rubbing the supple skin of your inner thighs teasingly. you wavered out a shaky breath, trying to conjure up the words.
“i need you so bad it hurts,” you whimpered. you were honest with peter, but your words weren’t what he wanted.
“i bet it does, baby. but that’s not what i asked,” peter flicks your clit through your underwear causing you to gasp at this unexpected movement. your thighs twitch and tighten at his teasing. he does it a few more times, just to get your body even more excited, and to get you to finally speak up.
“f-fuck! peter, i need your cock. i-i need you to fuck me,” you shouted, louder than you intended, but that was even better for peter.
“look who’s using her words,” peter says smugly, making your roll your eyes. you both assist in shrugging your panties off, making you completely naked while peter is still fully dressed. you reach for his shirt, but he’s already a step ahead of you and pulls it off himself.
when you see his body, you swear you almost faint. peter had six bulky packs of muscle on his abdomen and lumps of muscle on his arms. his chest was buff and tight, yet looked soft all at the same time. you had to blink a few times to make sure he was real. you even poked a finger at his stomach just to make sure it didn’t go through him like a ghost or a hologram. peter chuckles at your antics before grabbing your hand and kissing it, just like he had done earlier in the evening. and just like earlier, you felt yourself blush profusely and feel tingly all over again.
while you’re smiling like a goof, peter’s hands resume on your body. you instantly stop smiling because you remembered just how much he’s deprived you. but he’s also given you more than anyone else has in the past…
his digits caress your soaking slit between your crossed legs. you gasp because he’s finally touching you bare.
“open,” he demands softly, voice deep and lustful. shakily, you listen and do so. peter doesn’t hesitate to find your lips again with his fingers.
you quietly moan at the delicate pressure, feeling the smallest bit of friction. just as you were about to beg him for more, or to hurry up, his middle finger slips inside of you. it was almost embarrassing how easy it was. the amount of wetness you were leaking could fix the california drought.
“god, you’re so wet. what made you like this?” peter slowly pushed his finger in and out, thumb circling your puffy clit at the same time.
“you, peter! fuck,” you clenched around his digit, needing release already.
“are you thinking about my cock? hmm?” peter questioned, voice gravely as he leans over you. “are you thinking about me inside of you? thinking about how much i’m going to stretch your little pussy out?”
you groan at his foul language, pulsing barbarically. you’re straining to keep your eyes open, trying to obey his earlier request and to intake the moment. peter urges you to come, increasing his thrusts and pace. before you know it, your core is tightening and you’re squeezing peter’s fingers until you do. you thought you cut off his circulation from how hard you were clutching onto him, but when he pulls his fingers away and licks them proudly, you knew he was just fine.
“taste so good, sweetheart,” a smirk dances upon his lips as your taste lingers in his mouth. he’ll never forget that taste, no matter what happens after tonight. he’s hoping there will be more nights like these. more days too.
“can you please fuck me now, peter?–”
he holds up a finger to your lips.
“all of a sudden you know how to use your words and it still sounds so dirty coming from your pretty lips.”
in the blink of an eye, peter is reaching over to his night stand to grab a condom (hopefully). when you see the tinfoil wrapping, he stuffs it between your teeth, making you hold onto it. you then watch as he undresses his pants, clearly taking all the time in the world like he has it.
the smell of your orgasm and your wetness is haunting peter’s senses. the scent of you is never going to rid from his body or his room. he also doesn’t ever want you to leave, so he’s going to drag this out as long as possible.
once his pants are finally off, you get the courage to undo the wrapper while he’s taking his underwear off. holding the condom, you almost drop it once you see his length. he’s big, bigger than you’ve ever had. the tip of cock is bright red and leaking a bit of pre-cum, clearly just as desperate as you.
“fuck,” you mumble when looking at him. all he does is smirk before taking the condom from your hand and putting it over himself. peter leans over you again, face over face.
“ready, sweetheart?” his smirk lingers while you clench around nothing. you can feel the overwhelming sensation of your clit throbbing and you just want him to mend it. “ready to be fucked so hard you can’t leave?”
“yes, peter. fuck me hard.”
with your final words, peter is gently sinking into you. your wet folds encompass his cock snuggly causing you both to groan in delight. after a few moments, he starts to rock his body and you release a string of moans with every thrust. you try your hardest to keep your eyes open, but fail to do so. the sensations are indescribable throughout your body.
peter’s actions get harder, rougher. just like you wanted. he’s flicking his hips into yours with skilled movements while his face is relaxing in the crease of your neck. you feel his warm breath on you as he groans into your ear, lighting your whole body on fire.
“shit, peter, it feels so good. don’t stop,” you whine when he hits a certain part inside of you. your hand creeps down in between you both to rub the ache in your clit, but peter stops you.
“love when you touch yourself,” he grunts, never halting his movements, “but that’s my job right now.”
so, peter begins harshing rubbing your clit to no end. instead, your hands squeeze tightly on his biceps while he pounds into you so hard, you see stars. your never-ending wetness makes it so easy for him to slip in and out.
you feel yourself clutch onto his cock and when he moans, he sounded like the best thing you’ve ever heard.
“i-i love when you moan,” you croaked out, feeling too blissful to speak coherently.
“yeah? what else do you like?” peter huffs out, still smug as ever, even when he’s deep inside of you.
“l-love when you talk dirty, peter.”
“knew you were fucking filthy.”
with his rough words, you’re on the brink of your orgasm. your core tightens like it did earlier and your nails are digging deliciously into his skin. peter hisses in pleasurable pain, loving what you’re doing to him.
as your orgasm flows over you, your heart beats a million miles an hour and your breathing becomes staggered. the moans you elicit were just as filthy and pornographic as…well a porno. as you came, peter was smiling the whole time.
peter twitched inside of you and that’s when you knew he was close. you tangled your hands in his hair one last time and gave a single tug. that simple movement caused him to groan deeply and bring him to his release.
he doesn’t pull out quite yet. he just rests inside of you with his head on your chest. then after a few moments, he goes to get up.
“don’t leave,” you whisper and slide your hand through his locks again.
“it’s my place, baby, i’m not leaving,” he chuckles and slowly pulls out. you whimper at the loss of his cock, and at the feeling of being stretched out to the max.
“peter, i think you ruined me,” your voice cracked because it was hoarse and dry. you definitely needed some water now.
“good. are you thirsty now, sweetheart?”
tags: @invisibletrolleyson-jeremy @lnmp89 @crybabyddl @pretty-npeach @marine-mayday @aerangi @justanotherpasserby-blog @tinafuentes @moniffazictress11 @eywaheardyou @alwaysclassyeagle @mrstealuregirl @bisexual-desi @sherlockstrangewolf @madsttx @graywrites20 @bradtomlovesya @princesspannnn @raajali3
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equalheart · 1 year
Text
his hoodie
𓆩♡𓆪 — tasm!peter x gn!reader (but could also be any peter!), fluff (like ew cutesy type of fluff), established relationship, kinda suggestive-y joke?
“Are you really wearing my hoodie right now?” Peter can’t hold back his smile when you come down the stairs. You’re wearing his zip up with some shorts, and one of your t-shirts underneath—something so simple yet he can’t stop staring. “Yeah, is there a problem?”
He chuckles at your teasing tone. “No.. no problem at all. I really like it” he stutters over himself while wrapping one arm around your waist, and you don’t hesitate to put your arms around his broad shoulders. “I really like it too.” you smile as he leans into a kiss, smiling inbetween.
He hums “you should wear my clothes more often, you look great.” You pull entirely off of him. “I don’t look great always?” You fake a scoff and turn around. “Hey, hey, woah. We both know you look great always. Maybe my clothes make you look extra great. Seeing you in them makes me feel great.” You turn, notice a tint to his cheeks and he grabs your waist again. Your hands sit on his chest.
“Let me make you feel extra great.” You mutter on his lips, leaning into another kiss.
845 notes · View notes
liz-allyn · 1 year
Text
sugar and vice, pt 1 [mob!tasm!peter x fem!reader]
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summary: I have a meet-cute in a coffee shop. but for mob!peter.
words: 5.5k
warnings: Shameless TASM mob!daddy Peter fantasies, including, but not limited to, kidnapping, knives, bang bang shoot shoot, pining, eventual smut
Part 1
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“Just a coffee, black. Biggest ya got.”
Wearily, yet still wired, Peter tapped his fingers on the stainless steel counter. It was late. Or early. Streetlamps still blazed in unholy darkness outside. It had been a long night. But he had felt like he’d been up for years. 
Across from him, a young woman wearing overalls and a daisy-yellow bandana gave him a heavy nod. “Sure,” she replied, gravely. “I have to warn you, though. We over-roast our beans. It’s bitter as hell.”
He blinked at her, not expecting such honesty. She had a trusting face. Pretty eyes. 
“Ya wanna sweeten it up for me?”
He could hear the lame pickup line of a younger version of himself. One that wore a confident smirk, walked with bravado. One that hadn’t lost what he had lost. The older Peter of today brushed that voice away. “I like bitter.”
He glanced up at her eyes and saw sympathy. “Oof, tragic,” she frowned, shaking her head teasingly, her coyness peeking through. She retrieved a paper cup and filled the dark liquid to the brim. 
The personalness of it threw him off. Peter had wandered in like a zombie. He only briefly heard her ask for his order and his name, both of which he gave, and he expected nothing in return but the coffee. He watched her carefully, shifting uncomfortably. He was the only customer in the shop at this hour, but he didn’t expect to be seen. 
“Here you go,” she declared, handing the cup over. “One large black graveyard dirt, extra tears.”
It wasn’t so much the joke, rather the way she beamed when she said it. It was like sunlight peeking through the curtains just right, casting a familiar space in an ethereal glow. 
She glowed.
Seeing it awakened his senses. He felt the way flowers must feel, desperately reaching their petals out toward the sun after they’d been neglected through a long, dark winter. 
Before he knew it, he was smiling back. Teeth bared, eyes crinkled, grinning like a fool. He thought his muscles couldn’t remember what smiling felt like. It ached.
She reached out, extending the cup towards him. But it was so much more than that.
His gaze darted from her sparkling eyes, to the curve of her mouth, back to the apples of her cheeks—
“Thanks for stopping by, Ben!”
The illusion vanished, as did his smile. He pulled away, staring at the stainless steel countertop for a moment. He thanked her and took the cup from her hand, dropping a couple of bucks in the jar. He didn’t spare her another glance as he turned on his heel. 
For a moment there, he felt free. He’d forgotten what he was underneath the leather gloves, thick cashmere coat, the bitter coffee, and the fake name.
His hand found the door, the winter chill penetrating his glove. Just as he began to push it open, he heard a shout.
“Wait!” 
He did, glancing back at her, against his better judgment.
“I forgot to tell you,” she said, almost shrinking into herself with a sheepish expression. She blushed at the eagerness and volume of her own voice. “To have a great day.”
He blinked, brow creased.
“It’s, uh, sorry— it’s stupid,” she rolled her eyes, slapping her palm across her forehead. “But I’m… I’m supposed to say ‘have a great day’ and I always forget, maybe ‘cos I’m a little ADHD, and my boss always reminds me that I need to say it every time, but that’s awkward, right? Like it needs to come up in conversation, I can’t just blurt it. I mean, I can. Like, I just did. But that was weird, right? It was weird. And sometimes, I’m thinking about the next 3 things I have to do, or the thing I just did and I get… I don’t know, a little lost in the moment, and then it passes, and then I felt like I missed out, y’know?”
He stared. “No?”
“On saying what I want really to say,” she said with a voice full of warmth—gentle and genuine in tone. Her babbling ceased as she emphatically declared. “I really hope you have a great day. You deserve it.”
There it was again. That smile. Sincerity and kindness sliced through him like a razor. He was a child again, getting a kiss on the cheek from his mother. Her cheerful gaze lit him up inside, like setting off a roman candle beneath his ribs. It wrapped him in a firm embrace, filling him, shielding him, and grounding him all at once.
This time, he couldn't look away. Didn't want to. He waited until he could hear the flutter in her heart. He was smiling again.
“Thank you. I think I will.”
And as if she’d cast some sort of spell, he did. The way she enchanted him, he was certain if they lived 400 years ago they might accuse her of witchcraft. He always had a good day when he saw her. No matter how painful, or dirty, or bloody. She became his good luck charm. His ability to ‘have a good day’ became entirely dependent on seeing her.
He shouldn’t go back there. He should try the Starbucks down the street. But he couldn’t help it.
She’d pour him basic drip coffee, announcing aloud to the whole shop as she handed it to him. “Here you go! Extra large, extra-hot dark roast, with extra-darkness and a splash of angst.” There was affection in her gaze despite the sarcasm of her voice.
“One extra large coffee, black as the devil’s soul.” She’d whisper to him privately, gifting him with a good-luck smile, even when the coffee shop was full of people during the morning rush. In those moments, she made him feel like they were the last two people on the planet. And it always made something in his belly flutter.
“I have an extra-black ‘Fault in Our Stars,’ with a shot of ‘The Road’ for my friend in the suit!” 
Her friend. He couldn’t help but blush. How could he come to this place every day, stand in line, and feel like he was coming home? She was magic.
The coffee really was awful.
“Let me know if you ever want me to sweeten that up for you,” she graciously suggested, as the cup left her fingers. The brush of her fingertips against his felt like wildfire. Her comment was innocent, but his mind wasn’t. “I think I can make it taste better—I have some window cleaner left.”
He was smiling again. It blossoms into something reciprocal. That should be enough. He shouldn’t be greedy. He should walk away now. He should run. 
“What would you suggest?” he asked coyly. It was the first time he had ever done so.
A million saccharine-infused terms of endearment flowed through his mind—sweetness, sugar, gumdrop, sweetheart, sweetie, cookie, peach, muffin, angelcake—most of them were trash. (Really, Parker? What is this, high school? Whaddya doin’? You ever talk to a woman before? Why do you sound like somebody’s grandpa? Such a creepy —
Some of them weren’t appropriate between friends. None of them appropriate coming from a stranger.
That’s what he was, deep down. God, this precious girl—she was so trusting. Was she friendly like this with everyone? No, he had noticed as time went on. She’s warm and kind to everyone she meets. But not like this. Not the way she is for him.
“Ooh, getting adventurous, are we?” she teased him, stars in her eyes. 
For him. All he could do was stare back in awe at the Milky Way in her gaze. He would follow them and venture on any journey where they may lead.
“How do you feel about lavender and honey?”
Flowers and sugar for Brits and fancy people. He quirked his brow at the concept. “In coffee?”
Her eyes twinkled with excitement, as she spun around and began her concoction. 
For him.
He needed to leave. But he followed the length of her arms, the delicacy of her fingers, the way her hips moved as she danced around her workstation. He was hypnotized again. 
He imagined dancing with her. Letting her body flow and wrap around his like curtains billowing in the breeze. He barely registered that she was holding a new cup out toward him. While he was daydreaming, she had written his name on the cup and drew a little heart next to it.
He stared at it. It’s not exactly his name. But it’s the one he’d given her. And in return, she had given him so much.
He took the cup from her hand and couldn’t help but feel like he was undeserving of her kindness. Or her attention. Or her heart.
“Don’t make that face,” she softly admonished as if she could read his mind, or she might have read his sad look as disproval of her efforts. “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”
She gave him a smile. She gave and gave and gave. Gave him a reason to keep living. She didn’t even know.
He took a sip. It warmed his tongue, his throat, his heart. It ached.
“S’good,” he hummed, honestly surprised. He was telling her the truth. He reached for his wallet with his free hand, retrieving a wad of bills. He always paid in cash.
She waved him off, mock offense on her face. “No, silly. That’s not how gifts work!” Her laugh sounded like church bells. 
She was a gift. For him. His flower. His Honey.
“This one’s on the house,” she assured him, as he hesitantly lowered his wallet. She whispered low, in a tone that burned him up inside. “It’ll be our secret.” His mind felt like it was rebooting. She said it innocently, but he was anything but. She scoffed with a flippant laugh, “Just don’t tell my boss, okay?”
Her boss. He knew about her boss. Tod. With one ‘D’. 
Some mornings, particularly Monday through Thursday, he’d see the pencil-like man stiffly pacing the back of the bar while she and another young girl kept up with demand. Hawkish eyes, always watching. Always judging. Rarely picking up a milk jug himself.
He dominated the register. Peter hated handing him cash. His face reminded him of a cheese grater if it could look unhappy. “Are you sure you don’t want a pastry?” he offered the ‘add-on’ with what was supposed to be a smile. 
Peter’s eyes shot over to his Honey as she was artfully pouring foam, adding her magic to someone else’s cup. She refused to look at Peter and he hated it. It reminded him of a defense tactic. Don’t look at the thing you don’t want to be taken away. As if he was a prized possession that she wanted to hide away from Tod, who might accuse her of having ‘favorites.’
It stirred wild emotions to be thought of that way, especially by her. 
How dare her boss accuse her of any wrongdoing. How dare he threaten her.
“I’m fine,” said Peter, with a chill he hoped Tod could feel. 
He needed to leave. 
He needed to take his Honey and his Lavender Latte and just go. 
He shook his head. His brain was lagging again. He turned away from the straight-backed scarecrow before a robotic ‘thank you for being a customer’ could be responded to. 
Peter waited. Eyes on the floor. Eyes on the exit. Eyes on the windows. Eyes on her, but only briefly. He waited and daydreamed bitterly, waiting for her to call out a name that wasn’t his. 
“Honey Lavender Latte,” his enchantress called out. Hearing her voice caught him from his downward spiral. He made eye contact with her as he took the cup from her hands. Warmth radiated from her eyes, although muted. It was enough to soothe and comfort him. 
She blushed, sheepishly, unable to contain the smile in her voice. “Have a lavender-ly day.”
His mood lifted. Such a silly girl. Witchcraft, indeed. “Thanks, Honey,” he replied, without thinking.
Her big eyes widened for a moment, and her heart quickened. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked away, unsuccessfully hiding her teeth.
Peter would call her that a million times in a row if it would elicit that reaction.
“Have a great day,” Tod interrupted, murdering the moment.
Poor girl. She cowered slightly, like a dog hearing the word ‘no.’ She took a breath and put on a smile, turning back towards her work. 
Tough girl. She didn’t need Peter to defend her. 
He glanced over at Tod with a deadpan expression, and walked out of the shop before he did or said anything else stupid.
The world was full of Tods. It was also full of monsters. Sometimes Peter was one of them. No Tod was truly worth his attention.
Except for that one time. 
A Tuesday morning in the middle of the holiday shopping season. Peter stood in line patiently, arms crossed, gritting his teeth. He glowered behind the bar at Tod, standing too close to his Honey. She gazed up at her boss helplessly, watching him turn red in the face, as the flagpole of a man waved his arms wildly. Clearly agitated, he kept his volume low but his body language screamed at her. 
“What I need your help with is this,” Tod hissed as he towered over her. “I need you to tell me what is the best method for getting information into your head. How can I communicate with you in a way that you’ll understand?” His voice was soft although he flailed like a wavy-arm inflatable man in a car lot. 
“Tell me honestly,” he sneered, dressing her down in front of a line of customers. At this point, Peter didn’t need any superpowers to be able to hear the conversation. She visibly fought the urge to cry. “Do I need to write it down? Do I need to scream at you? Do I need to throw something? Do I need to take you aside and have an hour-long conversation?” She kept her eyes on the ground as he kept pelting her with icicles. “Tell me your preference here. What is it that you’ll respond to?”
The scene came to an abrupt end when the glass of the shop window shattered. The sound silenced him finally. The front door swayed limply, having been yanked off its hinges and slammed into its frame. His Honey glanced around the shop with concern. 
Peter was no longer there.
He didn’t come back that day. 
Neither did Tod.
Some sort of accident, his Honey told him the following week, although he already knew the details. She explained to him why the shop had a new manager, a well-composed woman named Leyla. By the airiness of her mood, he could tell she greatly preferred Leyla’s managerial style.
She was happy, and that made him happy. 
And that should be enough. 
He should leave. He should run. Get as far away from her as possible.
But he was intoxicated by her. Drunk on her sweetness and her Honey Lavender Lattes.
He looked at her like she was the queen of the hive. He’d let her take that crown, any anything else she could ever want, if he had the chance. He’d worship her. He already looked at her like she was a goddess. The devotion in his honey-tinted eyes was clear to anyone who bothered to look.
“Peter Parker!”
Hearing his real name while he stood grinning like a fool in front of his Honey one afternoon made him flinch, sending a shiver up his spine. He turned around, yanked from his reverie, watching three men stroll into the shop. 
He positioned his body in front of her, obscuring her from their view. His hands were tight balls at his sides.
Peter was familiar with two of the faces, but razor-sharp focused on the mountain in a suit they called Filch. He’d seen that greasy face more times than he’d want to admit, shrouded in darkness and cigar smoke. Seated at the hand of Wilson Fisk.
His jaw locked in place.
Filch looked overjoyed to see him. Like they were old friends. Like Peter didn’t know that Wilson Fisk was plotting to move against him. 
“I thought that was you!” he brightly exclaimed. He strolled through the shop, like a cheetah stalking prey. Removing a hat and revealing what little hair he had left underneath. “Long way from Queens. Fancy finding ya all the way out here, eh?”
Peter knew better. The only surprise in this situation was intended for Peter. He’d been followed here. Watched.
His spine went rigid, shoulders into stone. 
Don’t look at the thing you don’t want to be taken away.
He could hear her heart flutter faster behind him. As if she could sense the way he bristled when they arrived. Trouble in her kingdom. A disturbance to the delicate sanctuary she had built, like all of her totems and protection spells were wearing out.
Peter kept his back to her. He kept his eyes trained on the three men, who spread out in a familiar pattern. They were scoping the place. Checking for cameras, other patrons, and all possible exits. 
Don’t look at the thing you want—
“Hey, Sugar, it’s cold outside,” Filch called out, with all the grace of flagging down a hooker. “Whaddya got to warm us up?”
Peter stared straight ahead. Glaring. Fuming.
“Might I suggest the coffee?” his Honey answered. “Just made a fresh pot of the dark roast. It’s good.”
He might have cracked a smile if he wasn’t busy envisioning a scenario where he’d have to kill the three men in the room with just the tools available in a coffee shop.
“Pour me a cuppa that,” Filch replied, his eyes never leaving Peter’s.
Peter only slightly relaxed when he felt her presence back away behind the bar. She grabbed a paper cup and filled it with steaming-hot tar. She set the cup down on the counter and backed away, minding her workstation. “That’ll be $2.50.”
Good girl, Peter thought. He saw Filch go for his breast pocket. 
“I gotcha,” Peter cut in before Filch could move closer. He grabbed the cup and handed it over to his rival’s lapdog. “‘S’on me.”
Filch eyed Peter cautiously, reaching out where both hands could be visible. He took the cup with exaggerated gratitude. “No, I couldn’t possibly—”
“I said I gotcha,” Peter firmly cut him off, the cords in his neck going tight. Peter retrieved a few bills from his coat pocket, never breaking eye contact with his opponents. “We good here?” 
Too many seconds passed with no response. He could feel the twitch of his pulse in his throat. Filch’s eyes drifted back behind the counter. He was too close to her. He studied her in a way that was far too intimate. It made Peter’s skin crawl.
“We’re good,” Filch replied. A smile curved his lips. He held the cup up, toasting him. “Have a great day.” 
Peter swallowed hard as the three men sauntered out. He watched them go, his stomach sinking, bile rising. 
They’d been watching him alright. Who knows how long. He’d been a patron of this shop and he would order from this girl and stare at her with doe-eyes and hearts swirling around his head, out in the open where anyone could see. And they did see. He showed his hand and now the game was over.
“Who’s Peter?” he heard her voice softly ask. 
The illusion was shattered. He turned his head, but couldn’t bear to look at her. He felt sick. Empty. Furious. Petrified.
The monsters were gone now. But they’d be back.
“I’m sorry,” was all he could say, as he walked out of the door.
They’d be back. He’d be there first.
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She watched her favorite customer disappear into the night, her eyes wide with longing as she followed him. He disappeared in a few blinks of her eyes.
Something unsettling crawled beneath her skin. Maybe it was longing, but she was familiar with longing. This was new.
Her hands were shaking and she wasn’t sure how that happened either. One minute she was staring into his dreamy, honey-hued eyes, then the next he was running in the other direction. Not unlike their first meeting, a scene which she replayed over and over again in her head, trying to figure out what made him go so rigid.
Who’s Peter?
Peter Parker.
Peter Parker.
She repeated his name in her mind, reciting it like a mantra. She wasn’t great with names, but he told her his name was Ben on that first morning so many months ago, and she made a point to remember his name, and to say his name, because people liked it when you said their name, it made them feel closer to you and she wanted more than anything to be close to him.
She squeezed her eyes shut. Her wheels were spinning again. She used her thumb to push down hard on the center of her opposite palm. The dull pain grounded her back to reality. 
When she opened her eyes, she half expected him to be there. He always seemed to show up when she least expected it. He was a bright spot in her day, despite his gloomy demeanor. He could be dark as a raincloud, but she loved dancing in the rain. 
Or as her co-worker Nasrin teased her one day, he was her “tall, dark, hot cup of coffee.” She hid her face in her hands as Nasrin got to the “sucking him down with a straw” part of the analogy. She was incredibly grateful that he had been standing by the door, and there’s no way he could’ve heard that.
Now she had a first name and a last name and a... another name? And a place — you’re a long way away from Queens. A quick Google search of the names in question pulled up too many generic results. There was a dated article about a Ben Parker who was killed in an armed robbery, but her tall, dark friend couldn’t have had anything to do with that.
It twisted her stomach when she considered the fact that she really didn’t know him. She didn’t know who those guys were, and by the looks of things, she didn’t want to know. She should just drop it.
She did the best she could to keep busy, but there weren’t any more customers after that. She sent a quick text to her new manager that she wasn’t feeling well, and closed the shop early. She took the subway home. 
Once she got on the train, she didn’t make it back to the platform. It was late, but the subway car was still unusually empty, save for a couple of randos sitting at the opposite end of her car. Any other night, the near-solitude would’ve been a blessing. Tonight, something felt off.
Twenty minutes into her ride, just as the train was about to cross the river, it jerkily slowed to a stop. Her cessation of movement stirred her. Her head popped up from the glow of her phone screen curiously. She worried her lower lip as she glanced at the doors and windows, as if she could somehow see whatever it was that was stopping the train. 
She jolted as she felt a hand clamp down on her upper arm. Startled, she looked up at the two other occupants of the train car, now standing inches behind her. Two men that had been seated quietly, also seemingly distracted by their phones. 
“Come on, sweetie pie,” one of them said, towering over her. “It’s time to go.” She didn’t recognize either of them, but her instincts reminded her of the altercation in the coffee shop. These two had the same ‘goonlike’ look.
She tried wrenching her arm away, but the stranger held tight. “Get off,” she hissed. His partner on the left took her other arm, albeit more gently.
“Hey, take it easy,” the other man admonished. “No need to be rude.”
“Yeah, we’re friends,” the first man added, with a greasy smile. Her eyes darted around frantically. Panic set in as she realized she was alone in the subway car. The doors slid open, but there was no platform. Instead, the doors opened to building rooftops. The train had stopped on an elevated track above the street.
“Let’s go,” the gruffer man beckoned, grabbing her arm more tightly. He dragged her through the doorway, on a dark walkway next to the tracks. As soon as he lifted her, she erupted into a fit of screams. She kicked her legs, shrieking for help, but no reply came. She didn’t know if no one could hear her, or if people knew better not to respond.
“Keep it down,” one of the goons ordered coldly, dragging her along. She desperately resisted, letting her legs drop out beneath her. 
She heard a hiss and pop as the subway train sprang back to life behind them. She watched helplessly as it pulled away. 
“A wild one, aren’cha?” the red-haired roughneck tutted, yanking her back up to her feet. “Be a good girl or I’ll throw ya over my shoulder.”
She tried jerking away again, but halted as she faced the edge of the walkway. The dizzying height stunned her into submission. Her knees began to lock up, trembling with fear. 
“Take it easy, Katz,” the man’s partner chided him, albeit insincerely. The two of them practically carried her down the walkway. “You’re scarin’ her.” 
They arrived at an old set of metal stairs leading to the street below. The sharp, steep grade of the steps made her vertigo even worse. 
“No, help! Somebody help!” she hollered, wrapping her fingers in a death grip around the banisters and anything else she could reach. 
“Keep your mouth shut!” the red-head called Katz snapped at her. He reached around and tried to put his beefy hand on her mouth, but she bit down on his flesh the second his fingers reached her lips.
“Ow!” he roared. “Bitch!”
She saw him rear back his fist. Then she saw nothing.
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When she came to, her whole body ached. Every muscle throbbing, like she’d been twisted into a pretzel. Her eyelashes fluttered open. Flickering flourescents stung her eyes. Bleary, she gazed around in a dreamlike state until her senses slowly started to awaken. 
She tasted glue. And blood. Took heavy humid breaths through her nose. She was on her side, on a concrete floor in a garage she didn’t recognize. The smell of motor oil and cleaning solution stabbed her nostrils. She gazed up at the shadowy, filthy undercarriage of a Rolls Royce lifted high up above her. Loud bangs jarred her out of slumber further. She faintly wondered who would be jackhammering—
Loud pops. Gunfire.
Her body went rigid, then sprung to life in terror. Attempting to open her mouth to scream, she realized that it was taped shut. Even slight movements of her jaw stung her flesh. She tried to sit up. Her arms tingled, like her limbs had fallen asleep. When she tried to move them she felt a sharp sting on her wrists. 
Alarm started to take hold. She couldn’t move her arms or legs. She glanced down and passed her dirty, blood-stained shirt to the duct tape wrapping her ankles. It might as well have been iron. Her wrists were also firmly bound behind her. Trying to pull them on them felt like ripping off her own skin. She whimpered excruciatingly.
The sounds were getting closer. She glanced around, eyes begging for help. Searching frantically for any reprieve amidst the scattered car parts and junk. 
The gunfire was getting closer.
She scooted, inching her way across the floor until she reached a work table. She was lining her spine up against the table leg when the garage door rattled open. She was out of time. A spill of light from outside lamps flooded in, blinding her. She could only vaguely recognized her own shrieks behind the wall of duct tape.
A group of people stood at the garage doors with their backs to the light. She watched their imposing silhouettes with horror.
A tall, male form approached her, his long black coat trailing behind him. Tears that she couldn’t contain sprang from her eyes. She was trapped, terrified, like a rabbit staring down a wolf. All she could focus on was the gun in the man’s hands as he stalked toward her. She squeezed her eyes closed, waiting to hear a final shot that would end her life.
“Easy, easy,” a familiar, deep, and soothing voice rolled over her. “Shh, don’t be scared, Honey.”
Her breath hitched. Eyes popped open.
Crouched down to her eye level was her tall, dark, and bitter friend. Ben—Peter—whatever his name was— the moment she recognized his soft chocolate eyes and the scattering of a peppery beard on his otherwise boyish face, she felt a wave of relief. 
His leather glove still held firmly onto a pistol. The sight of it dropped her back to reality. Like a bucket of ice water being poured over her body. She shuddered as he scooted closer.
“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay,” he placated with a calm voice. “You’re okay.”
She wanted to believe him. He set his gun down on the concrete floor and reached for her with both hands. Another sound of a distant gunshot made her jolt. She recoiled away from his touch, shrinking herself up against the table leg. 
He flinched at her reaction with a pained expression, as if she’d stabbed him. His hands faltered for a moment.
A man’s voice rang out from the group lingering behind, a youthful tone from someone barely older than a teenager. “Boss, we gotta go!” 
A deeper voice called out in response, “C’mon, Pete. The calvary’s on the way. Get her on her feet! ”
Her eyes widened, tears streaming down her face. He stared back at her, his expression turning grim. She gazed up at her savior to realize that this was no true rescue. 
A sickly feeling crept over her as she put the pieces together. Whatever this was, whatever was happening, whatever had happened to her—it was because of Peter. 
Her tall, dark, and dangerous stranger. He grabbed her by the hips, scooting her closer. She wailed as he scooped her body up in her arms, dizzy with how fast and effortless it seemed. He carried her like a toddler having a tantrum, except she was restrained already. 
Peter said nothing as he carried her out of the garage, barely looking at her, as he marched towards an idling, blacked-out SUV. She barely had time to spot the driver, a gorgeous woman with long silver hair. 
She smirked at her, eyes sinister.
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When the SUV finally came to a halt, all she knew is that they were in an underground parking garage. Her limbs felt heavy, the assault of adrenaline starting to take its toll. Few words were spoken during the car ride, and none to her. Thick tension filled the air.
She was on the floorboard, her cheek pressed up against the carpet. She gazed at the feet of two men seated in the back. One of them was the fresh-faced teenager she heard calling Peter ‘Boss.’ His name was Miles, she had heard. The other was a rugged, haunted-looking man, with large dark eyes fixed on the windows, ever watchful. Miles called him Miguel, before the older man shot him a look to stay quiet.
“That’s the unifying issue with the men in this car,” the woman driving the SUV snarked. “You all talk too much.”
Her heart hammered at the glint of a knife. Miguel opened a switchblade, grabbing her ankles. 
“Whoa, hang on,” Miles talked to her—the first one to do so. “He’s gonna cut the tape, just so you can move your legs, okay?”
She gazed up at his soft dark eyes, her own still welling with tears. She felt the release on her legs give way as she kicked the rest of the tape off.
“Lights out,” a cold, distant voice ordered. The sound came from the front passenger seat, where Peter sat in tense silence.
Both Miles and Miguel seemed to hesitate, glancing at each other.
“You sure?” Miles questioned.
“He didn’t stutter,” the silver-haired woman replied, definitively. There was a bite in her voice, but it carried with it a tiredness filled with frustration. She sounded more like an older sister jabbing a younger sibling.
The woman popped open her door to get out. “Let’s go, boys. We got groceries inside.” 
The world went black again. A dark hood was thrown over her head, obscuring her view. 
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Continue to Part 2
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bradtomlovesya · 2 years
Text
Choices. 1
One: It Has Always Been Her
Peter Parker x reader series
Summary: Everybody forgot who Peter Parker was. All his world tunerd grey until he met you and you started dating. It could have been perfect if it wasn't for the fact that MJ comes back and, surprise! She remembers EVERYTHING.
Warnings: Pure Angst!, some descriptions of sex (+18), swearing, mentions of death.
w/c: 4.2k +
a/n: First chapter of this series. I hope you enjoy it and by "enjoyt it" I mean, cry with me, lol. Likes, reblogs and comments are much appreciate it as always. If you want to be added to my permanent tags there's a link on my masterlist and if you just want to be added for this series tag list you can leave a comment. Gif not mine
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"Can I come in?" he asks with his hands in his pockets.
"I don't think that's a good idea" you deny. Your voice comes out in what is little more than a whisper.
"Y/n... please, I just want to talk" he pleads. His gaze is as pleading as a puppy's when he sees that you only have one bite left and you haven't given him any yet.
"I think I need time" you say without looking at him.
~How did I get to this place?~, you wonder. ~How did it all end up so fucked up?~
Maybe we should rewind it so we can understand.
—---------------|°|-------------------
- 8 months earlier -
Second semester of college. You're a nervous wreck, how will your classes be this semester, will you be able to understand everything you need to?
Anxiety invading your body like thousands of electric currents flowing through you. You can calm them, but you can't get rid of them. They are part of you, your anxiety is just trying to keep you safe after all.
You look at the small piece of paper in your hands, it's the only thing you had on hand at the time to write down the room number of your classes after asking the secretary. Of course it was more of a scribble than anything else. The lady was in a hurry, after all.
"Excuse me" you walk up to what appears to be your classroom and there is nothing but a boy sitting in the back. "Sorry, sorry to bother you" you bite your lip, the boy looks up somewhat sheepishly and watches you. "Is this Mr. Anderson's class?" you ask at last.
"You're in the right place" he nods with the warmest, friendliest smile you've ever seen.
Slowly the room begins to fill up, you try to make your way through but fail miserably. It's a buffalo onslaught and you're just a little bunny. The chairs fill up, there aren't many empty seats.
Your eyes meet his again, he's watching you. He tries to tell you something and that's when you see him point to his backpack on the chair next to him. He's saving you a seat.
Your heart slows down, all means you already have a place to sit.
You walk over to him and carefully sit down as he removes his backpack.
"I appreciate it very much, you saved my education" you try to break the ice the only way you know how, by making a little joke.
Luckily his sense of humor is just as strange and you manage to get a chuckle out of him.
"I'm glad I did..." he pauses, waiting for you to tell him your name.
"Y/n, I'm Y/n Y/l/n" you extend your hand in greeting and he takes it without hesitation.
"Peter Parker" The smile never leaves his mouth.
Deep down inside you know you should have met him.... You were never one to believe in coincidences, but you did believe in fate.
Even if this could be your place of peace and your downfall at the same time.
- 7 months earlier -
"You can't tell me you've never seen the star wars movies" Peter denies, a rebellious curl decides down his forehead and distracts you for a second.
That thing he told you about him not being popular at school was hard to believe. Peter was the most interesting, kind, simple, honest and tender person you've ever met. Not to mention that his little freckles, deep-set eyes, chocolate hair and Greek God body made it even more difficult to believe.
You knew he'd had a girlfriend. However, Peter always avoided the subject. He would say that he had broken up with her because they would go to different colleges but only that. You knew it wasn't a subject you should bring up, not if you didn't want Peter's mood to change at the drop of a hat. Not in a bad way, just like his energy would suddenly go out.
"Well you can show them to me now, can't you?" you bite the end of your pen. You were supposed to be 'studying'. To be honest, it was hard for you to concentrate when he was looking at you with that cute smile.
"I think so..." He nods slightly. "Surely you don't want to keep studying?"
"Pretty sure, that's not the only reason I invited you over" You avoid his gaze and a pink tint covers your cheeks. You're embarrassed and Peter knows it. He can hear your heartbeat racing. That would matter to him if it weren't for the fact that his is the same.
"Then let's watch the first movie" He nods. "I like spending time with you."
Your heart melted... Oh, if only you'd left it in the freezer.
- 6 months earlier -
You found out Peter was spiderman by accident, you didn't mean to and neither did he.
You were in his apartment because you had decided you had had enough of hiding your feelings. You liked Peter, a lot. You couldn't go on with the uncertainty anymore, you really hoped he would like you back.
You had the keys to his apartment, you lived in the dorms and your roommate wasn't very quiet, let alone calm, so Peter offered you his apartment to study in during exam season. However, you decided to use the small advantage to prepare something nice for him, something you could confess to.
You prepared a dinner for both of you and put on that skirt that Peter once said he liked because it brought out the color of your eyes.
Everything was ready and would have been perfect had it not been for Peter aka Spiderman. He decided to go out patrolling the neighborhood that night and found himself engaged in a battle that left him breathless. He came out victorious, but more tired than usual, his senses were not very sharp and he allowed himself to enter through the window of his room and remove his mask without realizing that you were already there. Sitting on his bed waiting for him.
"Peter?" you murmur petrified. You definitely weren't expecting this, let alone him.
"Y-Yn? W-What are you doing h-here?" he looks you up and down and stutters. You don't know how to explain it but you still try "I can explain" You look at the mask in his hand.
"You're spiderman" Your gaze is lost. You try to get back to the here and now.
"No!" He exclaims but denies right after. "I mean, yes but-" He's even more nervous than you are.
He didn't want you to know. Having the important people in his life know that he was spiderman brought him nothing but trouble.
More importantly, he didn't want to put you in danger. You, the only good thing he had achieved after all the bad things that had happened exactly 8 months ago.
"Oh wow..." You stand up and your eyes search his. "That explains why you were disappearing without saying where you were going" you sigh in relief "I thought you had a girlfriend I didn't know about or something... this is totally a relief."
"A relief?" now he's the one who's confused. "So bad it was that I had a girlfriend"
"Maybe... a little" you shrug. You came here to be honest and that's what you're trying. Even after the bombshell of information you just got, that doesn't change anything, the reason you came is the same.
"It's good that you're not scared but what are you doing here? As far as I know we didn't arrange to meet, did we?"
"Now the surprise was for both of us" You joke to lighten the mood.
"You're not wrong there" he laughs lightly. "What kind of surprise?" He looks at the pair of candles around you.
"One where I tell you I like you, Peter" you say bravely. You feel proud that you could do it even though your palms are shaking.
"And after this?" His eyes don't leave yours. His heart is beating a mile a minute, he couldn't believe you felt the same way he did even though he was worried about what might happen after you discovered his other side.
"You being Spiderman doesn't change my feelings for you, Peter. I like you and spiderman won't make it any different" You smile at how crazy that sounded. The guy you like is spiderman.
"I like you too" his smile widens and he takes a step towards you.
"Really?" you ask incredulously.
"Totally" he nods and you place your arms around his neck.
You don't know what to say so you choose to do. You move your face and kiss his lips. You really hope he reciprocates and, apparently, your pleas have been heard because he does reciprocate.
Your first kiss, the first of many punishments.
- 5 months earlier -
You know Peter is not someone who opens up easily, actually. You think you're his only friend (now more than friend) at this university.
When he's not with you, he's on patrol, attending his classes or doing homework in the library, which he usually does with you as well.
You are both excellent study partners. Peter, besides being your boyfriend, is your best friend and teacher. He is your person and you are sure that you are his.
However, you were surprised when you asked him why he never talked to you about his past friends or family.
"My parents died years ago. My aunt was my only family member and she died recently and my friends went to college in another state so we lost touch." Was the only thing he answered.
You were dying to know more. You were too curious. You weren't insensitive though and you didn't want to push him to tell you things you knew he wasn't ready to say.
Maybe you should have asked a little more. Maybe about why he ended his last relationship, because you knew he'd had one.
Or why he never talked about it. All of this was an unknown to you.
- 4 months earlier -
You had been dating for two months as an official couple when you both decided to move to the next level in your relationship.
Peter knew you were a virgin and had never done anything with anyone beyond a steamy make out session and you were surprised (and somewhat relieved) to learn that he hadn't either even though he had a girlfriend.
Peter commented that he and MJ had never gone any further, however, he was open to going as fast or as slow as you thought best.
And so it was, when in one of your hectic make out sessions in his small apartment, you ended up with your lips around his cock and the tip of it hitting the back of your throat.
Clearly you both agreed and that wasn't the only thing that happened that night. A few minutes after his cum ran down your throat, your boyfriend knelt on the bed and spread your legs and positioned himself between them.
More than returning the favor, Peter was going crazy over the soaking wetness of your hormones in the big wet patch that inhabited your panties. His arachnid senses were driving him to a point where he found himself drooling to taste you, to devour you as if he hadn't eaten in years.
And, with your consent. Peter wasn't going to stop until the last drop of your fluids was tasted by his tongue.
- 3 months earlier -
And then came your first fight. You were upset with Peter aka spiderman, because he hadn't answered your messages all day after going out on patrol the night before without telling you he had returned home safely.
His excuse was "my phone ran out of battery" but you knew it was a lie because every time you sent him a message, the word "received" appeared and two little popcorns reinforced it.
The messages did arrive. Peter just didn't want to answer them or was too busy to do so. Either way, he was lying to you and that's what bothered you the most.
You already knew he was Spiderman, what else could he be hiding from you? you asked yourself.
What you didn't know was that Peter made a trip to MIT every week to check on Ned and his ex-girlfriend MJ.
It was probably best that you didn't know. Parker wouldn't know how to explain it to you and he didn't want to have to.
You were his girlfriend now, you were practically all he had. But it wasn't easy for him to let go of what he had lost with such regret and he wondered how things would have been if everything hadn't gotten out of control.
And that was the reason why the brown-haired man didn't answer the phone. He couldn't answer it to the present, which was you. As he watched MJ, who was his past, study through the window of one of the libraries.
You were finally able to settle your argument. Peter apologized and said it wouldn't happen again. However, he never gave you a real explanation of what had happened and, since it was the first time, you preferred not to argue and let it go.
You didn't want to pressure him, although perhaps you were being too understanding.
- 2 Months before -
And you finally had your first time. The first time for both of you, together and as individuals.
It was a bit awkward due to your mutual inexperience but once you got the hang of it, you couldn't stop and it became a magical night that neither of you would ever forget.
"I'm glad you were my first time" you heard him murmur in your ear as he moved his index and ring fingers over your arm in a caressing manner.
"I'm glad you were mine" you smiled and left a kiss on his lips. All you wanted was to freeze this moment in time and treasure it forever.
You had had your first time with someone you loved and you knew he wouldn't leave you just because you had already had sex with him.
Peter was a kind and sweet man. He was everything you had always dreamed of in a perfect boyfriend and nothing could ruin the bubble of happiness you both had gotten into.
That night, the hazel-eyed boy couldn't sleep. His thoughts wandered as he watched you sleep and, for the first time since the incident. He allowed himself to be completely happy without feeling guilty about what he had left behind.
For the first time in a long time he allowed himself to feel complete and loved. In addition, he made the decision not to check back on the people of his past. He had to move forward just as they had done and because he had you.
You were now his world and all he wanted was to make you happy and protect you from all evil and danger.
That night. Peter understood that all the love and peace he had lost. Now he had regained them with only one person and that person was you.
It was time to make new friends, enjoy his present and look to the future.
- 1 month earlier -
One night, Peter was kissing your neck while you were sitting on his lap. You slid your hands under his shirt and heard him moan as your fingers brushed against something you didn't know was there.
"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" you asked in a sweet but concerned tone.
"It's okay, I'm fine" He tried to affirm you with one of his smiles but you knew it wasn't right.
"Can I?" You looked him straight in the eye as your hands traced the edge of his shirt. As soon as he nodded, you lifted it up and saw a cut that wasn't there yesterday. "Peter, what happened here?" your voice sounded sad. It was the first time you had seen a cut that size on his abdomen.
"I slipped and fell on a glass. I'm fine, it's not serious, darling" He ran his hand across your cheek and tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear.
"It's serious to me" you sighed and looked him in the eyes "Can I help you clean it and bandage it?" You mumbled. The brown-haired man nodded with a slight smile and watched you walk into the bathroom.
Unbeknownst to you, that was the first of many times you helped Peter with his bumps and bruises. Plus, you became his accomplice and his chair girl at the same time.
Now Peter Parker understood that he was not alone, he had you.
- Two weeks before -
You and Peter were at the fair. You had gone through most of the rides, especially the ones that make you throw up, and thought it was time to get something to eat.
"Hot dogs?" you asked as you held his hands in front of you.
"I'm dying for a hot dog" he nodded with a smile and tried to go for them but you stopped him.
"Wait here" you laughed. "Can't a girlfriend treat her boyfriend to a hot dog?" You raised one of your eyebrows.
"Sure she can" the brown guy laughed, grabbed your waist and kissed your lips "don't be too long."
"I won't" you smiled and kissed his lips one last time before walking towards the stall that wasn't too far from there.
Peter smiled as he watched you walk away until a voice called out to him. A voice he hadn't heard in a while.
"Peter?" said MJ behind him. Peter turned and froze not knowing what to say. "Peter it's me, MJ" Michelle took a step towards him. "I remember everything."
Peter's mind began to spin and his heart began to race.
"How?" your boyfriend asked in just a whisper.
"Maybe you were erased from my memory but your stuff wasn't" MJ smiled slightly "the necklace, your pictures and among other things were still in my room at my parents' house" she sighed. "It took me longer than I expected but I told you. I figured it out once, I'll do it again" her eyes were watery.
"You were always so smart" Peter smiled and took another step forward. He knew he shouldn't. You'd be back any minute but the shock and excitement was too strong. "You remember..." peter took her face in his hands.
"I do" she nodded smiling and wiped a tear from Peter's cheek.
Before either of them realized it, their lips were already pressed against each other. MJ remembered. That was all Peter was thinking at that moment and it would have been perfect except you were a few steps away from them, two hot dogs in hand and a completely broken heart as you watched Peter, YOUR Peter, kissing someone else.
- Present day -
"Y/n... please, I just want to talk" he pleads. His gaze is as pleading as a puppy's when he sees that you only have one bite left and you haven't given him any yet.
"I think I need time" you say without looking at him.
"Time? Y/n, please. Let me explain," says the chestnut while holding the door so you don't close it.
"What are you going to explain to me? Why you had your tongue in someone else's mouth while I was watching you?" You stop trying to close the door and look him in the eye.
"It wasn't just anyone" he walks past you and enters your apartment without your permission. "It's MJ."
"Your ex-girlfriend? That's supposed to make me feel better?" your head hurt. You hadn't eaten or slept well for two weeks.
"No, y/n. It's not that" he denies. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, just let me explain." He tries to take your hands but you take a step back.
"You said you were over because she was in another university" you cross your arms.
"That's partly true" he sighs. "A year and a few months ago Mystery revealed my identity to everyone. MJ was my girlfriend at the time and my best friend's name was Ned-" he takes a breath and continues. "I went to doctor strange and asked him to cast a spell but it all went terribly wrong and I-"
"What does this have to do with you kissing your ex?" you frown.
"The point is. Villains from many multiverses showed up and to right my wrong Dr. Strange had to cast a spell making everyone forget who Peter Parker is" he continued.
"Including MJ?" you ask.
"Including MJ" He nods.
"So you broke up because she didn't remember you. Not because you wanted to break up with her" you deduce.
"Yeah and, the night of the fair. MJ showed up and said she remembered everything. I don't know how but I got carried away with my emotions and did something stupid without thinking about anything else-"
"Or anyone else" you interrupt him and dry your tears with the sleeves of your sweater.
"You don't know how sorry I am. I never meant to hurt you. I love you more than anything, Y/n" his eyes crystallize.
"But you love her too" your voice cracks. "What do you plan to do now? What's your plan, Peter?"
"I... I don't know" he dries his nose with his arm.
"You love her. You didn't want to leave her." You sob. "Why don't you go back to her then? You can tell you're not over her" you were trying to stay strong but it was practically impossible.
You didn't even understand how you believed his crazy story, but this was Peter we were talking about. Spider-Man in a world where people disappeared for 5 years because a purple alien had snapped his fingers using the infinity gems. It wasn't too crazy to believe that everyone forgot who Peter Parker was.
"I am over her. I decided to stop watching her the first time we- we slept together" he whispers in a sigh.
"When?" you frown. "What?" you analyze word for word what he said "You decided to stop watching her? What the fuck does that mean?" Now more than hurt, you were confused and annoyed.
"I-. I used to go to her college and watch her and Ned just to see how they were doing and to make sure nothing bad happened to them." He tries to explain. "One of those times I forgot to text you and told you my phone was out of battery." He swallows.
"I knew you lied to me, Peter. You were never good at lying," you sob. "But I never believed you were watching your ex all this time" you sit back on the couch. You are weak, as weak as someone famished. "I thought we were both 100% in this relationship but you kept clinging to the past" your vision is blurry, you don't know if from tears or lack of sleep.
"I know I should have been honest. I shouldn't have lied to you. I should have trusted you with my thoughts and feelings... it's just not easy for me" he sits down next to you and his hand rests on your knee.
"So what are you doing here then, Parker?" you use his last name. You're being serious and he knows it. Although, if he's bothered by your name calling, he doesn't say so. "It's more than clear that you've been waiting for this moment for a long time. Why don't you go with her? I can't compete with that, I never could." Your eyes watch the tile and you just hope you don't faint. It all feels so overwhelming.
"It's not about competing. It's not a competition, love." The endearing nickname leaves his lips but doesn't give you butterflies this time.
"Of course it's about competing! What was me? Your consolation prize?" You look him in the eye. He can't hold your gaze, he knows he did too much damage. "You settled for me just because you couldn't have her? Well congratulations, your pleas have been heard. Now get the hell out of my apartment!" You raise your voice and get up from the couch. You are upset with him but with you more than anyone else for allowing yourself to love him without first asking more questions and pressing for an answer.
"Y/n please...don't say those things. You know I love you. I fell in love with you the moment I met you" his gaze is pleading. He doesn't want to leave, he doesn't want to leave you but he doesn't know how to stay either.
"I don't know if you love me, I don't know if it's true" you sniff. "What I do know is that I love you and you hurt me like I never thought you would. Don't get me wrong, besides your girlfriend, I was your best friend and as a friend I understand how happy you must be that your first love remembers who you are. But I also understand that that "first love" is not me. Pick her, Peter. Go to her. You were always more hers than mine. Even when we were together you were looking for her."
"---I don't want to be your second choice, it hurts too much." You squeeze your eyes shut to still your sobs. "Pick her, it was always her."
It has always been her.
-------------------------------------
Peter Parker Tags:
@raajali3 @fangirling-galore @powerpuffluuvv @itszulli @hallecarey1 @xoxokiaraaxoxo @kaitieskidmore1 @lnmp89 @pure-a-tea @vixparker
'Choices' Tags:
@parkerpeterparker2004 @afro-hispwriter
If your user name is lined it's because tumblr didn't let me tag you :(.
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bruisedboys · 4 months
Note
───── marshmallow . . . send in a character from the guestlist + an aesthetic, concept, trope, or colour and I’ll make a moodboard!
photographer! tasm!peter x muse!reader would be sooo cute
blair!!!! this is so cute omg I had sm fun making this
tasm!peter parker x muse!reader
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‘polaroid of you dancing in my room.’ ♡
join the celebration
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unpublishediary · 6 months
Text
Focus On My Heart (peter parker)
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INTEREST₊˚ Peter Parker X Reader
SYNOPSIS‧₊˚ Reader also gets bit by a radioactive spider a bit later and goes through sensory overload during school, Peter comforts them through it.
WARNINGS(S)‧₊˚ Sensory overload
| masterlist | (requests open) (PLS REQUESTT) |
You gave the person behind you ten seconds to stop clicking their pen right behind your head. When you got to ten, you turned around to tell them to stop, but it wasn't them. Confused, you looked around, still hearing the sound, but the person behind you was asleep.
Your breathing quickened when it continued. Other sounds started to force their way through your ears. Someone was drumming their nails on the desk, the crinkling of a water bottle. Your breathing quickened when it continued, the ticking of the clock, then, worst of all, the bell.
The bell was defining. It rang through your ears aggressively, signaling it was time to leave and leaving you to stumble through the door.
The world was too loud, you could hear way too much. Every heartbeat, every whisper, every breath, every footstep, and more traveled through your senses at once.
Thump.
You covered your ears and could feel the tears in your eyes despite them being clenched shut. It was overwhelming your senses. Your heartbeat the fastest of them all. You could hear the blood rushing through your head and body.
The fly was buzzing across the hall, the sound of the lightbulb as the energy zapped rapidly, every footstep, every scratch, every heartbeat, every breath, every-
"Hey," a panicked voice stood out in the sea of noises. You tried to calm down, not wanting any attention, but you couldn't steady your breathing; it was out of control.
Scratch.
The feeling of hands on your shoulders shook you into a panicked state, the friction against your clothing onto your skin felt suffocating.
Thump
"Hey, it's ok," It was the voice again. Attempting to steady your breathing, you listened the best you could, "I know it's hard, and it feels like everything is overwhelming, but I need you to focus on my voice."
You clenched your fists, trying your hardest to focus.
Tick, tick, tick…
"Please," they said, pulling your hands out of their clenched form and holding them lightly. "Focus on me, find my heartbeat." They brought your hand to their chest.
The second your hand touched their chest, you felt everything inside: heartbeat, breathing, the blood running through their veins, everything. You couldn't do it. The best you could do was shake your head. You couldn't; there were too many people, too many sounds, too many everything.
"You need to focus, their voice grew desperate. "You can feel everything, and I know, but your hand is directly on my heart, find it and focus, it'll help."
In all of the chaos going on inside your head, you directed all your energy to your palm through your pounding headache. You had to find it, to focus.
Tick, tick…
Scratch…
Buzz…
Thump,
Thump, There.
The fight to slow down your breathing became easier every time you sensed a beat.
"That's it," you then recognized the voice as Peter. "Stay focused on my heart."
You would never tell him, but his voice calmed you down more than the sound of his heart ever could.
"Breathe with me." He whispered, “You can open your eyes, the lights are off.”
The thought of opening your eyes terrified you, to go through the same thing again. You shook your head slowly in protest, trying to keep the composure you fought so hard to gain.
You felt a hand cup over your eyes, "Start small."
Your eyelashes brushed Peter's palm as you opened your eyes, through a small crack of his fingers, you could see his brown eyes full of concern. How did he know what to do? So many questions filled your brain as you became more aware of your surroundings. You were in a dark and empty classroom.
Peter noticed that you were trying to look around, "I'm gonna bring my hand down."
You nodded, and he took it down slowly. His eyes met yours in the dark. His hair was slightly messed up. His facial expression was twisted into something you've never seen on him, before you could figure it out, he looked down.
You almost laughed at the possibility of someone walking in and seeing this; they would definitely get the wrong idea. But your smirk fell once you followed Peter's gaze to his now bloody shirt.
You looked down at your palms, and blood flowed out of indents made by your nails. You didn't notice that you were crying until he brought his hand to your face to wipe your cheek. Looked up again, his face read all of the unanswered questions you had. "Later," he dismissed it. "The nurse is out so let's get this clean,” he touched your palm softly.
You didn't like the way his voice spoke to you like you were about to break. You hated seeming vulnerable, but you do owe it to Peter for helping you. You didn't know what you would have done without him. You appreciated it so you said nothing while he pulled out a small kit from his backpack, unraveling the supplies.
"Breathe for this," he warned. The cleansing wipe was centimeters away from your skin, and you nodded.
It stung, but you were too exhausted to show it, the earlier events taking its toll on you. Peter cleaned the small indents out like he had years of experience doing this with unusual gentleness.
When he was done, it seemed like he wanted to say something. You nodded your head to encourage him to speak up.
"Do you- Do you want to talk about it?"
You eyes snapped to his, “No," but he gave you an unconvinced look back. You took a deep breath and looked at him, your voice trembling slightly, "Yeah, I think I do. It's just… I don't even know where to start. It's like everything suddenly became too much, and I couldn't handle it."
Peter nodded, understanding, and put away the first aid kit. He sat down beside you, and you felt a sense of comfort in his presence. "It's something I went through a while ago," he admitted gently. That sentence left you with so many questions, but you decided against asking them at the moment. As you sat there in the dimly lit classroom, you couldn't help but feel more than grateful for Peter. He had a way of calming you down and making you feel safe that didn't make any sense. The episode had left you drained, but you knew you weren't alone, and you didn't have to face it all by yourself.
A comfortable silence washed over the dark room as you leaned on his shoulder, falling into a comfortable sleep.
masterlist <<— for more fics like this
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maevesheart · 1 year
Text
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ she-devil
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╰┈➤ ❝ summary ❞
you, y/n griswold, smart, spoiled, gorgeous, and the most popular girl at midtown. him…. peter parker. there’s not much else to say…. at least that’s what you think. so when your evident best friend, harry osborn, spills to you that peter parker told everybody he took your virginity, you spiral into a complex and confusing love-hate relationship with the boy you once had no idea existed.
she-devil; a malicious or spiteful woman.
➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶
╰┈➤ ❝ pairing ❞ peter parker x fem!reader
╰┈➤ ❝ genre ❞ enemies to lovers (sort of)
╰┈➤ ❝ wordcount ❞ tbd
╰┈➤ ❝ status ❞ on going
╰┈➤ ❝ moodboards ❞ here
╰┈➤ ❝ warnings ❞ 18+, smut, dark themes, bullying (kind of), slut shaming, violence, underage drinking, drug use
╰┈➤ ❝ note ❞ if you have trouble “casting” y/n’s dad and brother, i imagine george clooney as ken griswold (dad), and gavin casalengo as georgie griswold (brother).
NSFW MARKED WITH *
➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ table of contents
i ➵ you… perv? (1.8k)
ii ➵ let’s make a deal (2k)
iii ➵ top secret (3k)
iv ➵ evil little thing (4.2k)
v ➵ stranger danger (2.2k)
vi ➵ speak of the devil (3.1k) *
vii ➵ make up, make out (
viii ➵ devil in disguise (
➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ last updated june 5, 2023
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ next update tbd
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year
Text
the eflorr trilogy
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warnings: fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, violence, explicit sexual content
info about the world | maps | pinterest board | playlist
masterlist | join my taglist
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fused with the foe
king!steve rogers x princess!reader, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, total word count is 18k
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
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the wistful wyvern
knight!bucky barnes x knight!reader, ex-friends to lovers, forced proximity
CHAPTER ONE (15/6-24)
CHAPTER TWO (22/6-24)
CHAPTER THREE (29/6-24)
CHAPTER FOUR (6/7-24)
CHAPTER FIVE (13/7-24)
CHAPTER SIX (20/7-24)
CHAPTER SEVEN (27/7-24)
CHAPTER EIGHT (3/8-24)
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soot and sparks
blacksmith!peter parker x farmer!reader, friends to lovers  
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
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© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble
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waitimcomingtoo · 8 months
Text
Dick’s
pairing: Peter Parker x reader
synopsis: the only good part of your job at Dick’s Sporting Goods is how often Peter comes in to buy repairs for his suit
Masterlist
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“Back so soon?”
“What?” Peter looked up and pulled his earbud out when he heard you say something. You chuckled when you heard the music coming through his earbuds and continued scanning the spandex shirt he was buying.
“You were here two nights ago.” You reminded him. “And four days before that. You’re here all the time, actually.”
“Yeah, I am. How’d you know that?” Peter blushed as you handed him the bag of his stuff. You looked around for anyone who might be listening before motioning for Peter to come closer. His blush deepened and he leaned across the register.
“I work here.” You whispered in his ear. You cracked a smile as you leaned back and pointed to the Dick’s Sporting Goods logo on your uniform shirt.
“Right.” He laughed shyly. “Sorry.”
“It’s all cool. I’m sorry that I work here too.” You shrugged, making Peter laugh again.
“It can’t be that bad, can it?”
“The name of the store is Dick’s.” You said flatly. “And apparently, that’s the only kind of people they hire here.”
“Yeah. I asked someone for help finding the nuts and bolts and he asked if I looked in my mouth.” Peter admitted. Your jaw dropped in surprise before you burst out laughing.
“Who was it?” You asked him. “Did he have red hair?”
“Yeah. In the hardware section.”
“Fucking Jeremy. I’ll kick his ass for you, okay? I’m pretty sure he’s like 13 or something but I’ll still do it.” You said, and Peter couldn’t tell if you were joking or not.
“That’s really not necessary.” He laughed shyly.
“All right.” You nodded. “Just know that I would. I’ve been looking for a reason to kick his ass anyway.”
“Why?” Peter wondered.
“Didn’t you see his face? It’s so punchable. Plus, he watches videos in the break room at full volume with no earbuds in. And if he thinks the video is funny, he’ll rewatch it multiple times. So then we all have to hear this loud, unfunny video multiple times. It drives me crazy. He deserves to get his ass kicked. I might do it just for fun now.”
“His face was pretty punchable.” Peter admitted.
“Can we hurry this up? This is taking way too long.” A man behind Peter complained, making your smile fall.
“That’s what she said.” You mumbled as you grabbed Peters receipt.
“To him.” Peter replied. You looked up at him and smiled in surprise.
“Because he’s probably bad at sex.” Peter explained in a weak voice.
“No, I got it. And I appreciated it. Thanks.”
“No problem.” Peter laughed shyly.
“One last question for you. Then I have to help Mr. Clean with his very important purchase of golf ball cleaner.” You said as you nodded towards the guy behind Peter.
“Oh, sure. Ask away.”
“Are you listening to Judas by Lady Gaga?” You asked and pointed to Peters earbuds. He turned red in embarrassment and thought about lying, but you clearly already knew.
“It’s her best song.” He said simply.
“Oh, I know that.” You assured him. “I just wanted to make sure that you know that.”
“Oh, I do.” He matched your tone, making you smile.
“Well all right then. Have a good night. See you really soon probably.” You teased him.
“Yeah. See you soon.” Peter smiled at you as he took his receipt.
Peter practically skipped out of Dicks that night. He frequented the store every time his suit needed a repair and had seen you working there a few times, forever looking miserable behind the cash register. He just never thought you’d notice him too.
A few nights later, Peter busted the eye on his mask while on patrol. He dropped his suit off at home and when to Dick’s Sporting Goods to get something to replace it. When he brought it up to the register to buy and smiled when he saw you.
“Hey.” You smirked at him and blew a bubble with your gum.
“Hey.” He smiled softly at you.
“Gum?”
“What?” He asked. You wordlessly held up a pack of Big League Chew and blew another bubble.
“Oh, no thank you. I’m driving.” He replied without thinking. He felt embarrassed for malign a stupid joke but you cracked up over it.
“I use that joke all the time.” You laughed. “Except I usually say “no thanks, I’m trying to quit.” I haven’t heard that one before.”
“I like yours better.” Peter tried to flirt.
“You can steal it. I won’t mind.” You winked at him and blew another big pink bubble. Peter gulped as you handed him his bag.
“Thanks. Have a good night.”
“You too.” You called after him as he left the store.
He returned a few days later, not that he needed anything. He was here for you this time. He came into the store at night with a plan to learn your name. It wasn’t much, but it was a step towards getting to know you better.
“Hey, Judas Boy.” You waved to Peter from behind the register.
“Hey, Dick’s girl.” He waved back and grabbed some spandex before heading to the register.
“Oh, thank God.” You said sarcastically. “You haven’t bough red and blue spandex shirts in almost a week. I was worried you were going to run out.”
“I almost did. This week has not been easy.” Peter humored you. You smiled when he played along and put his stuff into a bag.
“How come you guys don’t wear name tags?” Peter asked you as he put his plan into action.
“We’re supposed to. We’re also supposed to wear hard shoes and khaki pants.” You said behind your hand and pointed your foot out from behind the register to show him your leggings and crocs.
“I see. Not much of a rule follower?”
“I can be. But not for Dicks. Nothing for Dicks.” You said with such passion he couldn’t tell if you were kidding or not.
“But where else can you find a spandex section like this?” Peter joked and held up his bag.
“Models. Target. Walmart. Patagonia.“ You started to list off.
“Okay, sure.” Peter agreed. “But Dicks is the only one that carries red and blue.”
“Oh, I see. And red is blue is the only kind you can buy?” You chuckled.
“Obviously. What am I supposed to wear? Black?” Peter grimaced, making you laugh again.
“Why do you need all this stuff anyway? I’ve always wondered that. Why could you possibly be doing that you need all this red and blue spandex clothing?”
“Cause I’m Spiderman.” Peter said with a simply shrug. He held his breath and hoped you take that as a joke, which of course, you did.
“That’s hot.” You smirked and handed him his receipt.
“Have a good night.” He told you.
“Night.”
Peter was back just a few nights later. He never actually learned your name, so he technically had an excuse to return. He brought a spandex shirt up to the register and you laughed when you saw it.
“I think you’re single handedly funding our red and blue spandex supply.”
“Really? I’m the only one who buys it?”
“Just you.” You nodded. “My boss said he wasn’t gonna order anymore but I told him that would be making one special customer very unhappy.”
“You told him to order more just for me?” Peter smiled shyly and felt his blush go all the way to his ears.
“Duh.” You scoffed. “I gotta earn that sweet, sweet $15 an hour somehow. Pleasing one specific customer is how I choose to do it.”
“$15 an hour to work by yourself every night is insane. But I don’t even get paid for my job, so I’m not one to talk.”
“What is your job?” You wondered.
“I told you. I’m Spiderman.”
“No, but really.” You laughed. Peter looked down at the spandex and tried to think of any other profession that could explain why he was always buying it.
“I’m a male ballerina.” He said finally.
“For real?” Your eyes widened. “That’s way cooler.”
“Cooler than Spiderman?”
“Hell yeah.” You scoffed. “I’ve never seen Spiderman do a pas de deux.”
“I’ve never seen anyone do a pack de- um…”
“Pas de deux.” You chuckled when he couldn’t say the word.
“Yeah. That.” He blushed again.
“Have a good night then, nutcracker.” You said with a wink.
“Night, Dick‘s girls.”
The next time Peter came into the store, he had to stay away from the spandex section. May was getting suspicious about why he was buying so much when his suit didn’t have any visible damage, so he had to think of something else.
“Gummy worms?” You asked as Peter dropped a bag of sour gummy worms on the counter.
“You sell them. So I’m buying them.” He shrugged. You laughed as you scanned it and looked up at him.
“Do you live around here?”
“About 4 blocks away.” He answered. “Why?”
“Because this is New York. Which means you had to have passed, at the very least, 4 corner stores to get here. All of which sell gummy worms. And yet, you chose to walk all the way to a sporting goods store to get them. Why is that?” You asked as you leaned on the counter.
“I didn’t need spandex tonight.” He admitted as a blush painted his cheeks.
“Then why’d you come out here?” You smirked.
“Because I’m a stalker. And I’m learning your schedule so I can smite you and wear your skin.” He replied without thinking. He held his breath again but was sure you would not find a joke about him killing you to be funny. But to his surprise, you smirked in amusement.
“That’s hot.” You said replied. “Can you cover my shifts for me once you start wearing my skin?”
“Sure.” He shrugged.
“Cool. Enjoy your worms.” You chuckled and handed him his candy. Peter was about to leave when he decided to rip open the bag and hand you a worm.
“For your troubles, madam.” He said, then made a dash for the door. He heard you laughing as he walked out into the street, making it all worth while.
Peter returned to the store the next day but felt his heart sink in disappointment when he didn’t see you behind the register. He turned to leave and jumped when you were standing right behind him.
“Have you ever seen Black Swan?” You asked him.
“What? Jesus Christ. You scared me.” He said and put his hand over his pounding heart.
“You’re a male ballerina, right? You must’ve seen Black Swan.”
“No. I’ve never heard of it.” Peter answered as his eyes darted to the side.
“That was the face of a man who has 100% seen lezzy wet dream scene from Black Swan.” You laughed and pointed to him.
“Maybe once or twice.” His whispered.
“Well I’m going on break now and I was gonna go watch it in the storage room.”
“Oh. That sounds fun.”
“You wanna come?” You asked him like it was the most casual suggestion in the world. Peter looked around to see if any customers or employees were watching before following you into the back. He knew he shouldn’t be walking through a door that said “employees only”, but he wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity to hang out with you.
“Am I allowed back here?” Peter whispered and stayed close behind you.
“Probably not.” You shrugged and led him to the storage room. You shut the door behind the two of you and sat down on one of the shelves.
“Will you get in trouble?” Peter asked as he took a seat beside you.
“Maybe.” You shrugged again and pulled the movie up on your phone.
“I don’t want to get you in trouble with your manager. I’d feel horrible.”
“Dude, my manger is 17 and high as a kite right now.” You snorted. “He won’t care as long as we don’t interrupt his vape session.”
“Oh. Okay.” Peter relaxed and leaned against the wall. You shoulders were touching and he realized this was the closest you’d ever been.
“Here. I didn’t want to subject you to using a strangers earbuds so I stole this from the front.” You said as you pulled new earbuds out of your pocket. You tore them out of the plastic casing and plugged them into your phone before offering Peter one.
“They’re your favorite colors, right?” You asked in a soft voice. The earbuds were red and blue, the only colors Peter ever bought. They weren’t actually his favorite colors, just the color of his suit, but he thought it was cute that you specifically got this pair thinking he’d like the colors.
“Yeah. Red and blue are great.” He smiled softly and put his earbud in. You put the other in and started the movie. Peter couldn’t pay attention to a single second because the smell of your perfume was triggering all his senses. He stared at you instead of the screen until his eyes landed on the earbuds connecting you.
“I can’t believe you stole for me.” He said with a smug grin.
“Relax. I don’t do it often. But I did also steal these for you.” You said and pulled a pack of gummy worms out of your other pocket. Peters face lit up and he opened the worms before handing you one. Your fingers touched at one point when you both reached for a word and he gulped.
“When did you take these anyway?” He wondered.
“A couple hours ago when I first clocked in.” You replied. “I made sure to wait until I was on the company’s time before I took them. I don’t do anything here until I’m on the company’s time.”
“So you knew you were going to ask me to watch this with you when you first got here?” He asked as a smile crossed his face. You looked up from the movie and sheepishly turned to face him.
“You always come in at this time. And I’ve always wanted to see this movie. I figured you’d like it because you like ballet. Is that weird?” You asked, sounding nervous for the first time.
“No. It’s not weird.” Peter shook his head to assure you. You smiled in appreciation and nodded before turning back to the movie. Peter was able to focus on it now, but couldn’t stop sneaking glances at you.
“I love getting paid to watch gay movies.” You sighed happily as the movie neared its end.
“You need to make money somehow. God, I need a job. I’m gonna go broke from this store alone.”
“You’ve never looked at your receipt, have you?” You chuckled and looked over at him.
“No. Why?”
“Every time you come in here, I only charge you for tic tacs.” You admitted. “No matter what you buy, I just remove the tag and then scan a pack of wintergreen tic tacs.”
“Wait, seriously? Why?” He smiled curiously and turned to face you.
“Because then I can eat the tic tacs without feeling bad about stealing since you paid for them.” You shrugged. “And so that you don’t give all your money to Dick’s Sporting Goods just to fuel your spandex fetish. You only ever spend a dollar or so when you come here. I can’t believe you never realized that.”
“So you’ve been saving me money this whole time? Those shirts are like $15 each.”
“Isn’t that crazy?” You chuckled. “An hour of my work is worth a single, thin shirt. That makes me feel less guilty about never making you pay.”
“You’re really cool for that. Thanks.” Peter said sincerely.
“Yeah, well. I think you’re cool too.” You shrugged and looked down so he couldn’t see your smile. Peter stared at you with a dreamy smile on his face until he noticed the clock behind you.
“How long is your break?” He wondered.
“15 minutes.” You shrugged.
“15 minutes?! We’ve been back for over an hour.” Peter whispered harshly.
“Jeremys got it.” You waved your hand. “I cover for him all the time. He owes me.”
“Okay, good.” Peter sighed. “As long as you won’t get in trouble.”
“Will you stop worrying about me? I’ll be fine. You need to start breaking a few rules every now and then. Do you always do exactly what you’re expected to?”
“You’d be surprised.” Peter mumbled and debated telling you the reason he was always buying red and blue spandex. You noticed he had a far off look in his eyes and moved his chin to make him look at you.
“You never told me your name, by the way.” You said in a soft voice.
“It’s Peter.” He replied as his eyes dropped to your lips. “What’s yours?”
“Y/N!” Jeremey came barging into the m storage room, making you and Peter jump away from each other.
“Oh, there you are.” Jeremy smiled calmly. “Can you help me ring this guy up? He has a coupon but it’s expired.”
“So then he doesn’t have a coupon.”
“I know but he’s being really annoying about it and told me to get the manger but Kyle is vaping and said not to disturb him.” Jeremy whined.
“Damn, still? How long has this kid been vaping for? Are we even sure he’s alive?” Peter asked.
“Wait, who’s that?” Jeremy frowned and pointed to Peter. You and Peter exchanged a panicked look.
“That’s Peter. He works the night shift.” You said quickly.
“I’m Peter. I work the night shift.” Peter nodded in agreement.
“Oh. Okay. I don’t really care. You could’ve been back here smocking crack and sucking dick with a total stranger and I would not have batted an eye. Lord knows I’ve done it. But I do really need your help with the coupon.”
“Ugh. Fine.” You grumbled and got up to go follow Jeremy. Peter got up as well to let himself out.
“See you later, Peter.” You squeezed his arm before heading back to the register. Peter touched the part of his arm where you’d hand had been and smiled softly.
“See you later.”
Peter walked out of the store with a huge smile on his face. But loud noises coming from dumpster behind the store caught Peters attention. He climbed up the wall and walked along the roof so he could scope out what was going on. When Peter saw two guys trying to pick the lock to the back door, he quickly pulled his suit out of his backpack and put it on. He dropped down behind the two guys and cleared his throat when they didn’t hear him.
“Hey guys. I guess you didn’t see the front door. It’s right around the block under the huge, glowing sign that says Dick’s.” Peter said sarcastically. The guys stopped what they were doing and wiped around.
“Woah. It’s the Spiderman.” One of the guys gasped.
“Why do people always say “the” Spiderman?” Peter wondered. “It’s just Spiderman. I was very clear about that when I first started.”
“Let’s get this freak.” The other guy said and started walking towards Peter.
“Before we fight, I should let you guys know that two against one isn’t really fair when the one has web shooters.” Peter said as he raised his fists. His cocky smile disappeared when three more guys came out of the shadows and closed in on him. The five guys took turns punching and kicking Peter until he laid on the ground in a ball. He struggled to catch his breath and coughed up some blood as one of the guys delivered another kick to his stomach. One of them rolled him over and climbed on top of him with his fist raised in the air. Peter accepted his fate and was about to shut his eyes when a hammer, still in its package, came flying through the air and hit the guy in the head. The man grunted in pain and fell off of Peter. This gave Peter enough time to crawl away as more hammers were thrown in the direction of the men. Peter weakly looked up and saw you standing in the doorway with a bunch of hammers in your arms that you were haphazardly throwing at the men.
“Eat my hammer!” You yelled and threw another hammer at the head of one of the guys. Peter let out a weak laugh and clutched his side in pain.
“Dick’s girl?” He asked groggily.
“It’s Y/n.” You reminded him and threw another hammer. This time, one of the guys caught the hammer and started running towards you. Before Peter could get up to protect you, you pulled a bowling ball out from the floor beneath you and threw it at the guy. He was knocked to the ground as you pulled something else behind your bat. When you stepped under a streetlight, Peter as able to see you had taken a lacrosse stick from the store. You whacked one of the guys across the face so hard that he fell to the ground. You swept the leg of another guy, leaving only one standing. Peter held his aching body as you fearlessly walked up to the final goon.
“Spiderman over here is my friend. He’s one of the much, much friendlier Avengers. But not me. I’m fucking mental. I was trained in kung fu for the moment I could walk. I was raised to be a weapon. You don’t want to mess with me.” You said to the man as your rung the lacrosse stick in your hands.
“Oh please. I’ve taken shits bigger than you.” The man sneered and pointed to you. You smirked and caught his finger between your thumb and index finger while keeping your pinky upright.
“You see this? This is called the Wuxi Finger hold. If I bend my pinky, your chi is gonna be so fucked that all the bones in your body will break and half this block will be decimated.” You told him
“You’re bluffing.” He scoffed. “That’s not possible.”
“You wanna find out?” You asked and tightened your grip on his finger. The man’s eyes flicked between your face and his finger as he debated whether or not he believed you.
“This chick is crazy. Let’s get out of here.” The guys finally decided and took off running. The four others groaned as the got up and ran away as well. You sighed and threw the bloody lacrosse stick into the dumpster before looking down at Peter.
“So you’re not a male ballerina?”
“No. I’m Spiderman.”
“That’s not as cool.” You mumbled and bent down to help him sit up fully.
“Can you really break all his bones with one finger?” Peter asked you.
“Huh? Oh, no.” You chuckled. “I stole that shit from Kung Fu Panda. Those ska-douches clearly don’t have good taste in movies so they didn’t even realize.”
“Oh.” Peter smiled weakly. “Well, thanks for saving me.”
“You’re welcome, Peter. Come on.” You winked at him and carefully helped him stand up. You wrapped his arm around you and helped him limp his way into the break room. You raided the sports injury aisle before helped Peter up onto a table.
“Am I allowed to be back here?” Peter asked as he pulled his mask off.
“No one’s gonna know. Kyles vaping in the baseball aisle and Jeremy went home.” You said and set the supplies you had taken down on the table beside him.
“Are you allowed to take those?”
“You are quite a rule follower for the face of illegal vigilanteism, you know that?” You chuckled and opened a bottle of hydrogen peroxide.
“I’m actually not a vigilante. I’m on Mr. Starks roster. We have government clearance.”
“Okay. So just tell yourself I have government clearance to steal these supplies.” You told him, making him laugh. You laughed as well and started to clean him up. Peter stared at you fondly as you patched up his wounds.
“I really appreciate you trying to help me, but I don’t want to get you in trouble.”
“I’m in charge of filling out the inventory catalogues when we get shipments. I can easily make it look like these supplies never existed. Don’t worry, okay? And even if I do get in trouble, it’ll be worth it.” You said without looking at him.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” Peter asked softly. “Why are you always so nice to me?”
“Because I like you.” You shrugged. “I think you’re cool.”
“You do?”
“Is that shocking?” You laughed and cleaned a cut above his eyebrow.
“Kinda. I’m kinda a loser.”
“Really? Because I didn’t see any losers out there tonight. You know, other than those five losers trying to break into a Dick’s sporting goods. I’m really glad all the golf pencils and eye paint are safe.” You said sarcastically. Peter laughed and rested his hands on your hips.
“I like you too, by the way.”
“You do?” You asked skeptically.
“A lot, actually. Sometimes, I don’t even need anything. I just come here and hope you’re working.”
“Well I asked my boss to only schedule me at night because you never come in during the day.” You playfully one upped him.
“Really? You did that because of me?” He smiled fondly.
“You coming in here is the only good thing about this place.” You answered honestly.
“You’re the only reason I come.” Peter told you.
“Ayo.” You snickered.
“I didn’t mean it like that.” He laughed sheepishly.
“It’s okay. It was funny.”
“No you know why I’m always in here buying spandex and random things. I bust up my suit a lot and the guy who made it for me isn’t around anymore.”
“It’s a pretty cool suit. I can’t even tell where you’ve patched it up. I guess our spandex is just really high quality.”
“You got some pretty cool clothes yourself. Not everyone can pull off Hunter green.”
“Wanna see something?” You asked and unzipped the green Dick’s zip up on had on to reveal a black T- shirt underneath that read “I heart Dick’s” with the stores logo in the heart.
“I heart dicks? No way that’s a real uniform.” Peter laughed and pulled on your shirt to read it better.
“Yep. I couldn’t believe it either. I guess the Boomers that make our uniforms don’t see penis humor in everything like our generation does. I tried to tell my boss that these shirts were ridiculous but he said he’d fire me if I didn’t wear it. Even though I literally hate Dick’s.”
“You do?”
“Not that kind of dick.” You laughed. “I meant the store. If this place burned down, I wouldn’t pee on it to put it out. In fact, I probably started the fire.”
“Then why don’t you quit?”
“I need a job.” You shrugged. “And they’re super understaffed so they give me a lot of hours. Plus, if I left, how would I see you?”
“We could hang out. Preferably not in a Dick’s sporting goods.” Peter suggested.
“That’s my favorite place to hang out.” You smiled. “Can I give you my number?”
“I mean, if you want.” Peter joked as he handed you his phone. You put his number in and handed it back to him.
“There. That’s my number.”
“It’s hot.” He said as he looked at it. He gulped and looked up at you, thinking you’d find that weird.
“You’re such a weirdo.” You chuckled. “You better text me.”
“I will. I promise.”
“Good.” You said and poked his chest. Peter stared at you for a moment as a smile tugged on his lips.
“Would it be weird if we kissed right now?” He asked you.
“Yes.” You scoffed. “You’re covered in blood and gravel.”
“Oh. Yeah. You’re right.” He blushed in embarrassment and nodded his head. You cracked a smile before wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him. Peter felt love in that Dick’s Sporting Goods that night. It was all around him. The kiss ended sooner than he would’ve liked, but it was still perfect.
“Hey, you did it anyway.” He smiled in surprise.
“Yeah, well. I wanted to.” You laughed shyly and kept your arms around his neck.
“And then she kissed me anyway. And she got Neosporin all over her face. And my blood! It was insane, Ned. I wish you could’ve seen her with the lacrosse stick. She destroyed so much store property. It was incredible.” Peter jumped in excitement as he recanted the story to Ned the next day.
“You had your first kiss in Dicks sporting goods?” Ned whispered in awe.
“Uh huh.” Peter nodded.
“What are you guys talking about?” Flash asked as he stuck his head between Peter and Ned.
“Nothing.” Peter said quickly and gave Ned a look.
“Peter kissed the hot Dicks cashier.” Ned blurted.
“Ned!” Peter whispered harshly. “Why would you tell him that?”
“You kissed Alejandro?” Flash gasped and looked jealous.
“What? No. Who even is that?”
“I know all the Dicks sporting goods employees by name. I’m in there all the time buying golf and tennis and bad mitten shit because I’m rich as fuck. If it wasn’t Alejandro, then who was it?” Flash questioned.
“Her name is Y/n. She works the closing shift.” Peter told him.
“Wait, the one with the rebellious gleam in her eyes? No way you kissed her.” Flash snorted. “I’ve been trying to get her number for months.”
“Really? Because I got it last night.” Peter replied with a shrug.
“And a smooch.” Ned added. “On the mouth.”
“He knows where, Ned.” Peter whispered without taking his eyes off Flash.
“There is no way in hell that Penis Parker was macking on a hot cashier. And at Dick’s sporting goods no less.” Flash laughed loudly, drawing the attention of students passing by.
“It’s true.” Peter insisted. “And I don’t care if you believe me or not. Because I know it’s real.”
“Wow. You hear that, everybody? Penis Parker has a fake girlfriend!” Flash shouted in the hallway. People stopped to laugh and point at Peter, making him turn red.
“What? No I don’t.”
“He’s pretending he had a girlfriend who works at Dicks Sporting Goods to make up for the fact that no one will ever touch his dicks sporting goods.” Flash said even louder.
“Oh my God. Come on. Let’s get out of here.” Peter grumbled and Ned followed after him as he left. Once they were out of the crowd, Peter pulled his phone out and looked over your last conversation.
“Do you think it’s weird she hasn’t texted me back in a while?” He asked Ned.
“Well what was the last thing you guys talked about?”
“We were in the middle of a conversation about the best Adam Sandler movie and she ghosted me.” Peter said as he checked the time. Your shift had definitely started by now and he knew you texted on company time.
“Is she working tonight?”
“Yeah. Closing shift.”
“So go visit her.” Ned shrugged.
“What if she doesn’t want to see me?” Peter worried.
“She wouldn’t have kissed you if she didn’t like you.” Ned reminded him.
“I guess so. Okay. I’ll go see her after class.”
Once Peters last class ended, he pulled out his phone to call you as he walked in the direction of your store. You answered the phone but didn’t say anything.
“Hey. I was just thinking of you.” Peter said into the phone.
“Peter.” You whispered in a shaky voice. He could tell you were crying and froze in his tracks.
“I was planning on stopping by. Is everything okay?” He asked and quickened his pace in the direction of the store.
“No. I don’t think you should come in.” You said quietly. Peter stopped walking and felt his heart sink. You must’ve lost feelings after the kiss and didn’t want to hang out anymore.
“Oh. Oh, okay. No problem. I won’t come by.” He said and tried not to sound as disappointed as he felt.
“But maybe your friend can come in?” You asked, making his senses tingle.
“My friend?” He asked and started towards the store again.
“Yeah. The ballerina.” You replied and he knew exactly what you meant. Peter stopped in an alleyway to throw on his suit before running towards the store.
“Are you in danger?”
“Yeah. Sounds good.” You said with a forced laugh.
“I’ll be right there. Don’t worry. Everything is going to be okay.”
“Who are you talking to? Is that a phone? I said all phones in the bag.” Peter heard from your end of the phone. You hung up after that and Peter raced to the store. When he got there, he snuck in through the back and quietly made his way to the front. He found you behind the register with your hands up in the air as a man in a hulk mask stood in front of you.
“Hey, buddy. Let me guess. The last jock strap you bought was too loose you’re back for another one?” Peter said, making the guy whip around. That’s when Peter saw the gun in his hand and froze.
“Oh. My bad. I didn’t see the gun from behind.” Peter said and put his hands in the air. He made eye contact with you from behind the register and you mouthed that you were sorry.
“Why don’t you walk out of here and pretend you didn’t see anything, okay pal?” The man said as he pointed the gun back at you.
“Sorry sir, but I can’t do that. You see, I’m quite taken with the cashier you’re holding at gunpoint here.” Peter said and pointed to you. You let out a short laugh as tears fell down your face.
“Good. Then you can watch me blow her head to bits.” The man said and took a step towards you. You let out a little squeak in fear and shut your eyes.
“Can I convince you to reconsider? She’s got a great head. I’d hate to see it get blown off.” Peter said calmly and slowly made his way towards the man.
“I said you could take the money. Just take it and leave.” You pleaded with the man.
“There was only $36.62 in there. I didn’t rob store for less than 40 bucks.” The man shouted at you.
“No one uses cash anymore.” You whimpered. “It’s all Apple Pay.”
“Then tell me the combination to the safe.” He yelled and tightened his grip on the gun.
“I don’t remember it.” You cried. “I don’t listen when my boss talks to me.”
“You’re lying! I know you know.”
“Why would I lie? You think I’d risk my life to protect this store? I hate this store. It’s so stupid. Why is it called Dick’s? Who is Dick?”
“She’s making some excellent points.” Peter agreed.
“Both of you shut up! Give me the combination to the safe now or I’ll shoot you both.”
“I don’t know it!” You exclaimed. “I don’t even know the address to this place.”
“You think this is funny?” The man asked and took a step closer to you to the gun was pressed against your forehead.
“Not right now but I probably will later.” You answered honestly.
“That’s it. You’re dead.” The man said and cocked his gun.
“No!” Peter exclaimed as he dove towards you. He knocked you safely onto the ground while the man shot him three times in the chest. You screamed as Peter fell to the ground in a thud. You were about to reach for him when he jumped back up on his feet.
“Just kidding! It’s bulletproof.” Peter said cheerfully as he shot a web at the man’s gun. He yanked it out of his hand and threw it to the side before shooting two more webs that stuck the man’s arms to his sides and glued his legs to together. The man fell to the ground and tried to break free, but was unsuccessful. Peter shot one last web at the man’s face before pulling his mask off. He turned around to ask you if you were okay and was immediately met by you throwing your arms around him. He pulled his mask off before hugging you back tightly until your breathing calmed down.
“How did you know you were bullet proof?” You asked in a shaky voice.
“I didn’t.” He admitted. “I just knew that you weren’t.”
You pulled away to stare at him in disbelief, almost looking angry with him for risking his life for you. Your angry expression melted into a look of awe.
“Thats hot.” You said and threw your arms around him to kiss him. He smiled into the kiss and held you tighter, only breaking apart when you needed to catch your breath.
“Do you kiss all your local cashiers like that?” You asked him.
“Nope.” He chuckled. “Just you.”
“Good. You better keep it that way.”
Peter smiled and pressed his forehead against yours as you both calmed down from all the excitement when a thought crossed his mind.
“Did you really not know the combination to the safe or were you protecting the store?” Peter asked skeptically.
“Are you accusing me of risking my life to protect Dick’s Sporting Goods from a robbery?” You pretended to be offended and put your hand over your heart.
“No. But I am accusing you not telling that guy the safe combination just to mess with him.” Peter replied. A smirk crossed your face as you went over to the safe and put in the combination.
“There is nothing I wouldn’t do for a bit.” You said as you pulled the safe open.
“I knew it.” Peter laughed and shook his head.
“I was planning on telling you something tonight. You know, before I got held at gunpoint by a man shorter than I am.” You said as you walked back over to Peter.
“Oh really? What?”
“They’re making me store manager. That means you can get all the free spandex and gummy worms you want.”
“No way.” Peter grinned. “They promoted you?”
“Kinda.” You waved your hand. “The last store manger went to jail for insider trading and I’m the only other employee over 18.”
“But still! I’m so proud of you.” He said and scooped you into a hug.
“You know, when they promoted me, you were the first person I wanted to tell.” You admitted. Peter pulled away to cup your face and smile at you.
“I’m honored. No one in this shamble of a store deserved it more than you.”
“I can make my own hours now because it’s my job to make the schedule. So let me know when you want to go on our first date that isn’t in a Dick’s sporting goods.” You smiled teasingly.
“I will.” He smiled back before getting serious. He blew out a breath and looked you in the eye.
“Dick’s girl, I have so enjoyed our time together. Would you maybe want to be my girlfriend maybe?” He asked with a hopeful smile.
“Maybe I would.” You shrugged. “But only if you never call me “Dick’s girl” again.”
“I can definitely do that.” Peter nodded and kissed you again. The kiss was interrupted by the sound of cops pulling up in front of the store.
“Cops are here. I gotta go.” Peter said apologetically and pulled his mask back on.
“Bye, Spiderman!” You waved at him as he walked towards the front door.
“Bye, Dick’s girl!” He shouted back before swinging off into the night.
“What did Spiderman just call you?” The police officer as he walked into the store.
“Don’t worry about it.”
Tag List 🏷️
@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @serendipitous-amor
@tom-hollands-wifey
@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning
@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101
@letsloveimagines @peterparkoure
@a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr @maryjanee23
@geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland @flixndchill
@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave​ ​
@fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow
@thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @smilexcaptainx @quaksonhehe
@seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @electraheart-3174
@unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess @horanxholland @thesuitelifeofafangirl
@marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie
@maybemona
@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom
@pandaxnienke  @thestylestour
 @officialsimppage @peterbenjiparker @itsemohours @parkerlovebot
2K notes · View notes
ptergwen · 2 years
Text
can’t get close
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in danger of flunking physics, you enlist peter parker to tutor you. you’re at the top of the food chain with your best friends harry osborn and liz allan, but peter is at the bottom. he’s midtown high’s golden boy; you’re the designated party girl. an unlikely friendship is formed between the two of you somewhere along the way. harry isn’t particularly thrilled about it, and he isn’t afraid to air his grievances. eventually, benefits are involved in yours and peter’s friendship. things start to get messy when feelings are, too, and peter’s past dulls his shine.
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please note that this series contains adult contain and should only be read if you’re 18+! all characters are of age.
pairing: peter parker x reader
warnings: smut, explicit language, slut shaming, manipulation, underage drinking, drug use, and angst
status: completed
☛ series taglist ♪ series playlist ✎ main masterlist
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table of contents
➀ focus on the friendship
➁ you’re my best friend now
➂ don’t try to take it further
➃ get a little sidetracked
➄ catchin’ little feelings
➅ baby, what we got is secure
➆ friends no more
➇ i don't want to be responsible for your heart if we fall
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last updated july 11th, 2022
2K notes · View notes
shawnxstyles · 2 years
Text
ten times faster
DATE: JULY 29, 2022
summary: as the gang hangs out at your place, peter and you get into an argument about if a guy knows a girl’s body more than her own. when you tell peter that you can come better alone than with him, he decides to prove you wrong.
words: 2.3k
song: A Kiss- the driver era <3
warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [nipple play, fingering] hair pulling, dirty talk?) language, way too much dialogue to deal with
note: this is a random thing i found in my notes and i actually had time to finish it?? i love smut, but let’s be honest, i’m not that good at writing it. but here’s this. frat!peter x female!reader
gif is not mine!
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“i mean, i think the girl would know her own body the best, i’m just saying,” you stated, sipping on your cheap wine as you laid against the couch. you rested your hand on the arm and crossed your legs. you and your friends were having a night in, discussing topics that were anything but age appropriate.
“girls never get to finish anyway,” betty adds and ned looks at her with the most shocked and hurtful look known to man, “hey! that does not include me. i finish every time. if not more.”
we all gag and pretend to throw up while ned whispers a thanks, babe to betty behind it all. you roll your eyes, ready to move on when mr. thinks-he-knows-it-all-just-because-he-gets-good-grades steals the spotlight (clearly you have some frustrations with school and he does not help).
“i mean, i’ve never been with a girl who hasn’t finished,” peter arrogantly voices with a small smirk curling on his face. you didn’t even know girls slept with him (don’t lie, he’s mildly cute. even attractive at most. okay, he’s very attractive. better?) you almost didn’t say anything.
“what is that even supposed to mean?”
“it means the guy knows his girl’s body more than she knows her own,” he shrugs as if he has said the most simplistic thing in the world. peter tilts his beer bottle as he empties it. he makes an overly exaggerated ahh sound of relief as he downs the liquid. it makes you even more irritated.
“how does that even make sense?! just because you’ve had sex with a bunch of girls doesn’t mean you know their bodies. let alone, made them come,” you bit at him, sitting up in your seat. you were no longer at peace with your wine and the couch wasn’t as comfortable as it had been. even though he is one of the smartest people you know (but you would never admit that), sometimes, peter’s stupidity surprises you.
and to note, it was no doubt, blatantly obvious, and super clear— that peter was your least favorite in the group. you could bet he thought the same towards you too. you two were never really “friends”, but are somehow forced to be together every time if you want to see your actual friends. so that’s how mutual friends were created. don’t you love them?
you don’t. at least not this one.
“princess, you don’t need to be jealous of other girls. if you wanted me to help you out—”
“jealous? how conceited are you? you think i want to sleep with you so you can ‘help’ me? please, i know for a fact i can make myself finish ten times faster and stronger than you ever could,” and with that you snatched the bottle of wine and poured a large measurement into your glass. you chugged a good amount and while doing so, you saw peter’s infamous smirk taunting you from the corner of your eye. you set down your nearly empty glass and excused yourself to the bathroom.
“i love watching two people fight over something exhaustingly stupid. it’s entertaining,” mj says as she sips her tea because she was the driver for the night, “this is going to be very interesting.”
as the night comes to a close, you hug and wave off your friends. you say goodbye to mj, betty, and ned and realize peter wasn’t around. you close the front door with a confused look on your face. when you turn around to clean up the wine glasses, peter comes walking into the living room.
“they left, you know,” you say as you bend down to pick up all the glasses, wrappers, and bottles.
“i’m aware,” peter replies as he follows you into the kitchen. you dump all of the garbage in the trash can and wash your hands.
“then why are you still in my house?” you wit, drying off your hands. without looking, you hear peter’s footsteps getting closer to you in the small kitchen.
“i thought we could test your little theory,” he whispers just over your shoulder and it gives you an odd, unwanted sensation down your spine. you turn your head slightly towards him, so you can see him from the corner of your eye.
“which theory? the one that proves how big of a dick you are?” your chest gets tighter with close proximity, but you still have your wits with you. peter puts his hands on the counter, blocking you from leaving.
you hear him chuckle darkly behind you, which causes you to turn around fully.
“you know what i’m talking about.”
your tailbone is pushed against the edge of the tiled counter when he takes another step toward you. you didn’t even think it was possible to be this close to someone.
there was a heated feeling in your lower belly that you knew all too well, but it was a little different. it’s a lustful feeling, but somewhere inside of you knows that you shouldn’t do this. the wrongness of doing this just makes you want to do it more.
“i have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“really? well, let me show you.” he doesn’t wait until you take a deep breath, he just kisses you with hunger and lust. one of his hands from the counter lifts up to caress your neck roughly. you tug at the baby hairs on the back of his neck and you feel him groan in your mouth. one of his fingers gets caught in your hair and he snags it out, but you accidentally moan out.
“oh? you like that?” he releases from the kiss with a smirk, as you try to keep a straight face. he slips off his t-shirt quickly watching your brain rack.
“no—” he lifts you onto the counter and immediately goes back into kissing you with no hesitation. you absentmindedly feel up his body. you’ve never seen him without a shirt on and you would’ve never guessed he was this ripped. you know he saves people for a living, but c’mon on? he gets to be hot too?
what?
okay, you can’t even lie about that. peter IS dangerously attractive whether you hate him or not. it’s a scientific fact in society.
his fingers twists the ends of your shirt and you break the kiss to take it off. you don’t hesitate to get rid of your bra either as you quickly unhook it blindly. peter kisses down your neck harshly as you whimper, trying to keep your moans in. he tugs your hair, now knowing you like it and you can’t help but moan for him. you don’t want him to know how good he’s making you feel, especially when he has barely done anything.
you bit your lip as he kneads your right boob and sucks on your other one. peter sucks around your nipple, pulling and pinching the other one. he spends a good amount of time on your breasts, and if he did it any longer, you sadly might be able to come from just that.
“so i take that you’re a boob guy?” you yank him off of you by his hair. peter groans at the loss of control, so you let go of his hair.
“so you liked it?”
“i never said that—”
“but you never said you didn’t. imagine what it would be like for me to eat you out. may i?” his hand goes straight to the drawstrings on your sweatpants, but you don’t know what he was asking. was he asking if he would take off your sweatpants or eat you out? yes, all of the above is what you wanted to say. oh my god yes a million times yes also came to your head, but that sounds like an agreement to marriage, so maybe not.
“whatever floats your boat, captain,” is what you actually said and you’ve never wanted to hide under a blanket more. embarrassment flows through your veins. however, you stick with it because you can’t change what you said now.
he chuckles with a shake of his head as he slowly tugs your sweatpants down. once they’re off, he pushes your knees to spread your legs and he sees that wet patch of arousal on your panties. peter smirks and you swear you see his brown eyes darken.
“so i take that you’re a boob girl?” he kneads your inner thighs as you huff in frustration.
“shut up and do something,” you roll your eyes.
“aye aye, captain.”
before you could shout and cringe at him, peter’s hands finally go to rub your panties. you whimper as his thumb circles perfectly slow on your clit. you hold his shoulders for balance as you involuntarily move your hips to create faster friction. peter grabs your hips to stop your movements and you whine out.
“more,” you huff, getting wetter and wetter, but aren’t as close to finishing as you can be. he’s deliberately going slow, so you can be tormented.
“tell me what you want, y/n. i’ll probably give it to you,” peter smirks as you looks at you. he removes his hand from your hip to tilt your chin to face him. his eyes are dark and so beautiful it kind of hurts. how can someone so attractive be such a dick? you debate on telling him that you want everything. his mouth, his fingers, his dick. it’s all sounding pretty good right about now.
“dick,” you mumble at him because of his arrogant attitude.
“you want my dick?”
“i—no, i mean yes! but i want your fingers right now,” you squeeze your eyes shut at your neediness and stuttering words. you may be a confident and strong person, but when it comes to sex, you’re the queen at obeying.
“just say please and they’re yours.”
“ugh, you’re such an asshole,” you growl as he flicks your clit three times and you yelp. that little action made you much wetter and he can probably feel that. you are beyond turned on right now and you need him so bad.
“fine! please peter, just do something already!” you grip his shoulders out of irritation and he smiles before yanking your panties down your legs. he rubs you bare for a few moments before he slips two fingers straight into you. you instantly moan out (embarrassing loud), and you can practically feel his ego rising. peter takes his unused hand and pulls at your nipples again. that familiar heat in your belly becomes tighter and tighter as he strategically moves his fingers. peter curls his fingers and twists in a way that’s just so intoxicating and so good that it clouds your mind with lust. you clench around his fingers when he touches a spot deep inside of you.
“you’re so wet. are you going to cum? hmm?” as he talks, his thumb brushes your clit again and you moan again, not trying to hold it back this time.
“peter yes, yes!”
“am i going to make you cum ten times faster and stronger than you can?”
“try me.”
taking the challenge, peter rubs your clit again, while you involuntary open your legs wider, letting him access you deeper. he lowers his head so he’s closer to your ear.
“c’mon love, i know you want to.”
his raspy voice makes you clench around him again and the tightening in your belly finally releases. peter sloppily kisses your neck as you come down from your high.
“good girl,” his deep, sensual voice almost makes you want to do it again. actually, everything he did makes you want to do it again. peter rubs you slowly, drawing your orgasm to a close. he rips off some nearby paper towels and wipes the mess you made. or he made, you should say.
when you go to talk, your voice comes out squeaky, so you clear your throat and try again.
“i still think i can cum faster alone, just so you know,” peter throws the towels in the garbage. you lightly leap off the counter and nearly fall to the ground, but you survive with a little balancing. you bend down to pick up your panties, but they’re gone. you swear you just saw them right there.
“peter—” he turns around with a smirk and your panties twisted around his finger. you gasp, spinning around and grabbing his shirt and throwing it on. you eye him heavily.
“give them back, you dick.”
“or what?”
“or i’m not giving you your shirt back,” you scoff as you cross your arms. his shirt was a bit big for you. meaning, it went down to your mid thighs.
“oh please, keep it. it looks better on you anyway,” he smirks again, looking you up and down and you punch him in the chest. he never has a different expression on his face; just smirking, smirking, and more smirking. “but seriously, i’m keeping these.”
“but why? i really like those ones, asshat! oh my gosh, you probably collect them. you’re a panty collector! i knew you were a weirdo, but jeez, peter,” he coughs looking down, trying to add a comment to your crazy assumption.
“um no. i need to keep these, so when i start telling mj, ned, and betty that i made you cum ten times faster and stronger than you can yourself, i’ll have some proof,” peter winks and starts to walk away. you pinch your face together.
“what are you talking about? you’ll never tell them about this because it never happened! got that?” you shout as he goes across the house. why is he walking around my house?
“whatever floats your boat, captain!”
oh fuck. you’re never living this down.
thanks for reading!! 😊
2K notes · View notes
withahappyrefrain · 2 years
Note
Thristy thursaday you say? How about possesive Peter who sometimes just get’s worked up by his own imagination and has to fuck you to remind both himself and you that you are his?
Why does this scream Mob!Peter, let's write some Mob!Peter bc he gives me brainrot 18+, also we got some Daddy and breeding kink here. Don't like that? Don't read it.
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You hated these dinner parties.
Peter knew that.
He always tried to make them tolerable for you by buying what dress or jewelry you wanted, as well as never staying longer than needed.
You knew it was important that the two of you were here. It was part of maintaining control, an image, a reputation.
You just couldn't listen to Betty Brandt rant about her neighbor's lawn anymore.
"I'll be right back, just need to refresh my drink," you said with no intention of returning. She'd find someone to ramble to soon enough.
After refilling your wine glass, you leaned against the wall, taking in the party. In the corner, you could see your husband talking to several 'colleagues'. You could tell the conservation had to do with business, given Peter's harden expression.
"Nice party, right?" A voice interrupted your gazing of Peter.
You turned to see a young man standing next to you, wine glass in hand. He looked vaguely familar- most likely a new hire.
"Yeah, it's pretty nice," You said dryly, turning your attention back to Peter, who was still talking to his men.
"You know, I'm amazed at how they're always having to talk business. Even when it's after hours." Did this kid not know who you were?
"Some things can't wait. Tends to happen a lot with this line of work," You continued to sip your wine, your eyes zoned in on Peter.
"I just think it's impolite. It's best to live in the now, take it all in. " The man reminded you of those guys who took one philosophy class and declared themselves to be the next Aristole.
You turned to face him, keeping your wine glass close to your face (which conveniently was being held by your left hand).
"I just also think it's much more enjoyable to talk to new people....beautiful people." You began to clink your ring finger against the glass.
Either the kid was just brazen or absolutely daft, considering your engagement and wedding rings were hard to miss.
"That Watson girl over there models," You motioned over to the redhead who was talking to a group.
"I don't really go for models," He scoffed, "Between you and me, they tend to be pretty shallow."
"Oh, she's actually quite lovely," you paused, "I know because we used to model together."
The panic in the man's eyes made your sip of wine extra delicious.
"Oh, so uh...what do you do now?" He asked, now quite nervous.
Before you could answer, you felt a large hand place itself on your hip. Another hand grabbed the wine glass out of your hand.
"Jason, my wife's wine glass needs to be refilled. You can do that, right?" Though it had been phrased as a question, Peter made it quite clear 'no' was not an option.
The now nervous Jason quickly grabbed your glass, avoiding eye contact. As he walked away, you looked at your husband.
"You interrupted a very stimulating conversation," you remarked, your voice dripping with sarcasm.
Peter ignored your remark, his eyes taking all of you in, "Follow me."
"For what?"
"I said, follow me," He hissed in your ear, the grip he had on your hip tightening. The dominance sent heat straight to your core.
You simply nodded your head, following your husband out of the living room, down the hallway. You were disappointed to be lead to a room, rather than the front door.
Peter opened the door, motioning for you to step inside. You obeyed, walking in first. He quickly followed you.
It was some study. A couple of bookshelves, a nice mahagony desk, a chair that looked quite comfortable. The sudden click of a lock turning broke you out of your thoughts.
Oh.
So that's what he wanted.
"Get on your knees." You thought about making some bratty remark. Considered telling him to make you.
But the hunger in his eyes told you that wasn't the best idea.
You sunk down to the carpet, thankful there was some cushioning for your knees. The sight of your husband undoing his tie as he walked over to you made you clench your thighs.
Peter stood in front of you, armed crossed, his clothed erection now at eye level. You looked up at him, waiting.
"Go ahead."
Your hands reached up to his crotch, unbuttoning his pants. You made quick work of freeing his cock. You wrapped a hand around the base, leaning forward to-
"Did I say you could do that?" Peter asked sternly. You shook your head, removing your hand.
"Who do you listen to?" Peter's hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look up.
He was in a mood.
Good thing you knew how to fix that.
"Y-you, Peter. Only you," You shifted from one leg to another, trying to soothe the ache between your legs.
He smirked, "That's right. Now suck."
You wasted no time taking Peter into your mouth, going as far as you could without gagging. It was so sudden, he nearly stumbled backwards. You used your free hand to grip his hip.
"Fuck, baby...." He was breathless, "Such a good mouth. And all mine."
You did your best to nod as you continued to bob your head up and down on his cock. The groans and grunts coming out of Peter's mouth went straight to your core.
"Stop," He ordered. You pulled his cock out of your mouth, dropping your hands. You looked up at him, waiting for the next set of directions.
His hand cupped half of your face, his thumb rubbing your bottom lip. Your lipstick was most likely smeared but who cared at this point?
"Who's good girl are you?"
"Y-your's, Daddy." Judging by the grin on Peter's face, it was safe to assume he was pleased to hear you refer to him by his favorite bedroom nickname.
"Why don't you bend over that desk so Daddy can remind you that no one else can fuck you so well?"
You nodded your head, standing up. You slowly walked over to the desk, gripping the edge as you bent over.
In a matter of seconds, you felt two hands all over your body. Your chest, your throat, your ass, your thighs. Peter's hands finally landed on the hem of your dress, pulling it up towards your hips.
"You've been walking around this whole party with no underwear?" He pulled you so your back was against his chest.
"F-for you. Wanted to surprise ya," you somehow managed to get out with Peter's hand gripping your throat. The cool metal of his rings provided additional pressure.
"Ya liked it when that kid tried to flirt with ya?" You shook your head.
"N-no! Only want you, D-Daddy." You gasped at two of his fingers entering you.
"You're so fucking wet, I don't even have to prep ya. How'd I get so lucky?"
You saw me on a billboard and somehow got my Manager's number, is what you wanted to say. But that wouldn't get you his cock.
"P-please fuck me. Want ya s'bad, Daddy," you didn't care that you were whining. The ache between your legs was burning you alive.
Peter bent you over the desk, entering you in one smooth motion.
You yelled at the sensation of him filling you up instantly. Half of Peter's men had already heard you two fucking from the countless "breaks" he took during meetings at your house. Their wives would give you a dirty look at the next dinner party and then stay silent about it.
Peter pulled out of you, slamming back in to create an unrelenting pace. You gripped the edge of the desk, desperate to steady yourself.
"Ya like it when Daddy fucks you nice and hard?"
You nodded your head, a gasp escaping when you felt his cock brush up against that sweet spot.
"Love it s'much. Feels s'good." It was difficult to tell if you were drunk from the alcohol or your husband's cock, or both.
"You're mine. All mine."
"All your's D-Daddy."
"Maybe I should fuck a baby into ya. Make everyone know that only I get to fuck this amazing cunt." His words sent you closer and closer to the edge.
"Ya want that?" Peter tugged on your ponytail, forcing you to tilt your head back to look at him.
"Yes! P-please. Want it s'bad. Want your cum s'bad." Your moans continued as you felt two of Peter's fingers begin to circle your clit.
"Then come on Daddy's cock. Show me how bad ya want it."
The sound that escaped your lips was animalistic. Your orgasm knocked you over like a wave in the ocean. If it wasn't for Peter's arm wrapped around your waist, you probably wouldn't be able to stand.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, baby," You heard Peter mumbled as he continued fucking you through your orgasm.
With a gutteral groan, Peter's hips stilled as he came inside of you. The two of you stood there, holding onto each other as you tried to catch your breath.
"Ya really meant that? About wanting a baby?" He whispered. There was a hint of nervousness in his voice- something only you got to see.
You titled your head back, bringing one of your hands up to caress the back of his neck.
"You're the only person I want to have kids with. No one else."
He pressed a chaste kiss against your lips. You could feel the smile spreading across his face.
"We should...we should call your doctor. Get that IUD taken out," He said when he broke away.
You chuckled, "We should clean up first."
"Yeah, I think I have a handkerchief in my pocket," Peter looked around, locating the jacket that was halfway across the room.
"Well, if anything drips onto the carpet, we'll just blame Jason," He said, chuckling as he prepared to pull out of you.
"Peter!"
"What?"
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liz-allyn · 1 year
Text
sugar and vice, pt 5 [mob!tasm!peter x fem!reader]
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summary: what is the appropriate amount of time to forgive your kidnapper?
words: 3.9 k
warning: mob-typical violence. whump. hurt/comfort. allusions to violence. coersion. kidnapping. blood. toxic/yandere!peter (maybe, sorta), negative self talk, shameless forced proximity trope. 'only ten one bed oops' trope, imprisonment. slowest burn. a dash of questionable and/or morally grey intentions. nudity. extremely toxic relationships.
a/n - as many of you pointed out in the last chapter, this version of Peter is darker and messier than TASM canon. expect him to make a lot of mistakes before he becomes a changed man. if he changes.
18+. you're responsible for your own content consumption. but that being said, if you don't remember watching an episode of pop up [music] video on a television network, then keep it movin'.
Back to Part 4
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Part 5
She awoke to darkness. Her whole body felt sore. Head throbbing from the onslaught of tears. She felt like a ceramic pot that had been roasting in a kiln for hours.
Stirring from her dreamless sleep, she glanced left and right. Her hands were free of the bindings. Brow curled, she looked over at the closed door, pondering if her captor had snuck into the room while she was out.
Honey sat up with a start, blinking the remnants of sleep from her eyes. She reached for her wrists, finding nothing but an oily residue left behind. Still puffy from the duct tape rash, her skin was sensitive to her touch, but otherwise unharmed.
She glanced up at the closed door. Her stomach churned. She fought the instinct to curl up and hide beneath the bed. The memory of Peter’s fierce gaze lingered, a raw burn in her mind. 
Despite her logic telling her that she was the victim, she still felt conflicted. 
She had been kidnapped, sure— and she needed to do whatever was necessary to survive. Strangely, she still felt guilty for taking a swing at him like she did. As soon as her fingers touched the rock, she slammed it into the side of his head, without much thought.
“What are you, stupid? It’s a wonder you even make it home alive each night!”
She couldn’t quite name what came over her. She dealt a blow to his temple that could’ve killed him. Surprised that it didn’t. And then what would that be like? Could she really find it in herself to kill another human being? Not to mention, she’d be alone in the woods with a dead body, with no clue where she was. 
The thought made her queasy, twisting her stomach into a pretzel. She could’ve just run away, but when it came time to do so, she froze. Typical.
While she was hiding, she watched and listened quietly to his rampage below. Rage was one thing she expected, but not the misery she witnessed. The look she found in his eyes was something else entirely. Heartbreak and relief, like he would burst into tears at any moment.
It made her heart ache to witness it.
And then she hit him with a rock. Like some kind of cavewoman. 
Brilliant idea, she thought disdainfully.
“You need to slow down!” More bitter thoughts flooded her, this time with the voice of her mother. “Always talking too fast! Always moving too fast! You do without thinking. No wonder you mess everything up.”
Her eyes grew heavy with melancholy and exhaustion. Despite the darkness wrapped around her, she felt like sleep was out of the question.
A strange melody crept up through the closed door to her room. Voices. Percussion. Music. Upbeat and entrancing. 
There wasn’t a clock in her room but she had figured it was the middle of the night. Why would Peter be jamming out in the middle of the night?
Her stomach twisted again. The thought of coming face-to-face with him gave her chills. She rubbed her wrists idly. She could feel bruises there. She was afraid to leave the room. But she was also starving, and lamented not having at least one sandwich before her daring and ill-conceived escape. She was also miserably dehydrated, as every bit of moisture had leaked through her swollen eyelids.
And she had to pee. And that was now all she could think about. Her room thankfully had its own bathroom. Swinging her still-booted feet over the edge of the bed onto the floor, she tiptoed to the bathroom and relieved herself.
She thought she heard singing. Bad, out-of-tune singing. Creeping to the door, she placed her ear against the cool surface, trying to identify thes source. Out of curiosity or courage, she twisted the handle and peeked her head around the frame.
By the time she reached the bottom step of the staircase into the living room, she had a full view of the area and Peter was nowhere in sight. The one person who was in the room (and the source of music) was Miles, as he sat at the kitchen bar and dangled a pizza slice larger than his head above his mouth. 
The music was echoing across the room from a tiny portable speaker on top of the kitchen bar. In his own world, the teenager’s head bobbed as he blew steam from his pizza, then took a giant bite. 
She watched curiously as she approached from behind. The giant decorative clock built into the great room wall confirmed that it was incredibly late. Or early. One wouldn’t know it from Miles’ energy, or the volume of his jam session. She looked left and right, expecting to find more people, but saw no one else.
The flow of the music was broken when she accidentally walked into a low-height side table, her knee knocking to the corner. The lamp on top of the table jolted and Miles spun around in the barstool, letting out a piercing screech that could best be described as falsetto.
Honey responded in kind, letting out a shrieking Ahhhhhh of her own. Miles curled himself up on the stool, pulling his palms and one leg up defensively. “Sorry!” she blurted, as he clutched his own chest. “Sorry! So sorry! I didn’t mean to—”
“You scared the crap outta me!” Miles said, his panic ebbing.
“I didn’t mean to—wait, is that how you really scream?”
“What about it?!” Miles exclaimed indignantly. “Not the point! You’re the one who’s creepin’ up on people like we’re in a horror movie... Crazy... La Llorona stuff!” The pitch of his voice normalized as he took a deep breath, frustration subsiding. “I dead-ass almost punched you in the face—I don’t mess around!”  
“Sorry, sorry...” Honey babbled, her face twisted in a grimace. “I, uh, didn’t mean... to, uh... Llorona...”
“It’s fine!” Miles sighed, his heart rate slowing. It didn’t sound fine. “It’s over—maybe let’s just not ever mention this again, okay? To anyone? Especially not to people I know.”
Honey nodded her head in agreement, motioning that her lips were zipped and she was ‘throwing away the key.’ 
A few awkward moments of silence passed between them as he reached over and turned down the music on the speaker. He straightened out his zip-up hoodie uncomfortably. A small smile crept up on her face. She found his reaction endearing, and not at all what she expected from—whatever it was they were involved with.
“Um,” she cleared her throat. “Hi.”
Miles gave her a sheepish look. “Hi.”
There was a mountain of awkwardness between them. She looked around, then pointed at the massive box of pizza. “So... post-midnight snack?”
“Oh,” the teenager responded, looking back at the pizza. “Yeah, that’s right. You’re probably hungry.” He reached for the box, opening the lid. “Here, have some. It’s Lucia’s. There’s plenty.”
“Lucia’s?” she exclaimed, pondering the distance between wherever they were to downtown Flushing. She moved to the box, peering inside. “I like Dani’s.” 
“Well, nobody’s perfect. This pie heats up better,” Miles remarked, taking another bite of his slice. 
“Yeah?” Her eyes slid over to Miles. “How fresh is it?”
“Boss said to bring Lucia’s. So I did.” He shrugged his shoulders idly, placing his attention back on his slice of pizza. She slumped with a huff, having been dismissed.
“Boss,” she repeated, a chill going down her spine. “You mean Ben. Or...Peter, I guess,” She glanced around the mostly empty kitchen and living area, almost as if saying his name would summon him like Bloody Mary. “Is he here?”
Miles smacked his lips, wiping his mouth. “Nope, just me.” 
There was a pleasant calmness in his demeanor. It seemed to her that he was the only normal person that she’d met since being pulled off the train. The only person that treated her like a real person. Not that Peter hadn’t tried to show her kindness... or at least, what his mind perceived as kindness.
She rocked forward on her toes, suddenly interested in the fibers of the cardboard box. “Is he... Is he okay?”
Miles avoided looking at her, and she wondered how much Peter had told him about her escape attempt. She wondered why she felt suddenly embarrassed by her actions. Ashamed even. What did that say about her?
“Didn’t say much,” he replied. “Said he needed to take care of some stuff. Told me to hang out in case you needed anything.” 
Something burned in her chest, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. “That was nice,” she stated in earnest. “I guess.” 
“He’s pretty cool,” Miles nodded, matter-of-factly. “Nice guy.”
She bitterly scoffed, crossing her arms across her chest, “I wouldn’t go that far.”
He didn’t respond. He was skilled at avoiding her provocation despite how badly she wanted to start a fight. Passively, he devoured his pizza in record time, then reached over the box to grab a paper plate. It looked sorely out of place compared to the grandeur of the kitchen. 
“Wan’some?” he asked. “I also brought soda and stuff. Boss said no TV, but we can watch a movie on Netflix or something. Or we got a Switch. You ever play Smash Bros?”
It took her a moment for the implications to sink in. “‘No TV?’” she repeated with a growl, letting out a frustrated sigh. “What are we, children?” 
She snatched the paper plate from his hand and reached into the box, grabbing herself a slice of pizza. Without further protest, she bit into the pie, savoring the taste. Lucia’s was superior, she recognized. 
“He said to get you whatever you needed,” he answered, paying her complaints no mind. “The whole house is free range except for the office. But everything else is cool. You can use the gym. There’s a library. The sauna. A pool, if you wanna check that out, too.”
She blinked at him, nearly choking on her pizza. “This place has a pool?” 
“Heated,” he wiggled his eyebrows enticingly. 
She glanced down, conniving. “What about a computer?”
Miles shook his head. “Don’t know about that.”  
“Could I borrow your phone?”
“No can.”
“C’mon,” she pleaded, her voice gentle. “I’m not gonna call the cops. Just wanna check in with my mom.” 
“Can’t bring phones out here,” he shrugged apologetically. “It’s a rule. Phones can be hacked and traced. All you need is a sus text like ‘Hey, I’m here,’ or ‘We issued you a refund for $600,’ and you click on the link and boom. They got you.”
Honey peered at him suspiciously, “Who’s they?”
“No clue.”
She rolled her eyes. “Your ‘boss’ sounds pretty paranoid if you ask me.”
“That actually wasn’t his rule,” Miles explained conversationally. He leaned back in the barstool in a way that made her anxious. “That was Peni. She’s our tech nerd.”
“Peni?” she repeated.
“Yeah, she’s like—a genius.”
Her pizza suddenly became too chewy. “So I’m just a prisoner?” she huffed.
Miles looked over at her for a few moments, considering her. He let out a quiet sigh. “I know it’s a lot,” he said kindly, then added with consolation. “Pete’s a lot. Sometimes.”  Stone-faced, she stared back skeptically. “But he’s a really good dude. Just... he worries. He wouldn’t do all this if he didn’t care.”
She glared at him through lidded eyes. “Do you hear yourself right now?” she spat. “You sound like a Lifetime movie. Do I need to call Child Protective Services?”
“Hey, not cool. M’not a child,” he bristled, offended. “I’m sixteen.” She stared at him with a raised brow, watching as he stuffed another slice of pie into his mouth. “Wan’some Mountain Dew?”
She blinked. Several times. Then resigned herself. “Sure.”
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The eerie indigo and orange glow of civil dawn peeked through the bay windows of the great room. It was silent except for soft snores. With weary eyes and a suit jacket which had been wrinkled by physical exertion, Peter wandered into his house even more of an alien than when he’d left it. 
The sort of activities in which he’d participated in earlier that night did that to him. It made him a stranger in his own home. Even more in his own skin.
He paused briefly and took a moment to gaze upon the lanky teenager sprawled out on one of the leather couches. Jordans crossed. sticking up over the sofa arm. A Nintendo controller rested on his chest as he dozed deeply, film forming in the corner of his open mouth. The sight made Peter crack a bittersweet smile. Nostalgia accompanied by an ache of longing. Somewhere beneath Miles’ oversized clothes, there was a good kid who wasn’t all that different from Peter.
Who he used to be. 
His eyes roved across the room to the opposite sofa. Honey was curled up like a cat, still in the blouse and jeans that she arrived in. Her hiking boots were placed neatly next to the couch. The snuggly sight of her made his heart leap into his throat. Her upper body expanded and deflated in a steady rhythm like ocean waves, and the action both entranced and haunted him. The bittersweet feeling in his chest soured and blackened, until it became a guilt-ridden tumor wrapping tendrils around his heart.
He had been so cruel earlier. He erupted into a fit of blind rage. A brute. The kind of anger that made people want to turn their heads. Anger that if Gwen were still alive, she wouldn’t be able to look at without being sickened. He was the sort of person that Aunt May and Uncle Ben would cross the street to avoid.
He thought he’d lost her too. And he was terrified.
No wonder she was scared. It was his fault, to think that she could somehow see him as something other than a monster. Now, there wasn’t much hope in changing her mind.
Peter felt his eyes burn as he peeled them from her lithe form. He glanced down at his hands, observing the deep crimson stains in his skin. Rusty-brown spots soiled the wrinkled cuffs of his dress shirt. 
He’d have to throw it out, he mused. There’d be no getting those stains out. No matter how much time he put into scrubbing. No matter if he flayed his own skin off his bones, the blood would always be there.
His heart rate quickened. He felt bile rising in his throat. With alarm, he disappeared down a hallway, tucking himself swiftly in a washroom. 
When he returned, he was shirtless. His forearms were bright red, stinging with how hard he’d scrubbed. Head down, he crept quietly towards the staircase leading up to the bedrooms on the upper level. 
He paused at the sofa, glancing down longingly at the woman he would never deserve. 
The woman that would never forgive him for how he acted. 
Never forgive him for what he was. The thought made his lower lip tremble.
He didn’t deserve her. This was an undeniable fact. 
But regardless, she was still his responsibility. His to protect. His to keep safe. 
His to keep.
His shadow fell over her as he reached down and gently lifted her from the sofa. Effortlessly, he carried her weight like a towel over his arm, or a down-pillow in his hands. Ascending the staircase with her tucked against his chest, he didn’t miss the way she huddled closer to his warmth. She sighed against the skin over his heart in a way that made gooseflesh rise. 
Gently, he ferried her, like a small boat on a glass lake. He strode past the door to the room that she had occupied and continued down the hallway, headed to the southern-facing end of the house. He approached the heavy oak door to his bedroom and used his toe to push it open. The action barely disturbed her at all. Like floating on a cloud.
Moving through the bedroom darkened by blackout curtains, he drifted across his room and rested her body on the silk surface of the California-king bedspread. Delicately, he placed her head on a 1000-thread count pillow void of any scents other than his own. He hoped that it would smell like her shampoo by the time she woke up. 
He stepped back from the bed, listening the pulsation of her heart. Studied the pace of her breathing. Fixated on her soft features as she floated in her slumber. A familiar pang reached his chest as he watched her, hesitating for only a moment more before he padded to the other side of the bed. 
She sighed in her sleep, nuzzling the softest pillow she’d ever laid on, and shuddered comfortably as two arms wrapped around her waist. She felt herself pulled back and was cradled by a firm form shaping her own. It was warm. She was warm. The breath on the back of her neck was warm.
Her eyes shot open, a small gasp catching in her throat. Rapidly, she blinked through the murky twilight of the foreign bedroom, her heart spiking. 
“Don’t,” she heard a deep, raspy voice whisper in her ear. She went rigid, recognizing the owner of the voice and the body pressed up against hers. Alarm flooded her.
“Please don’t,” he said softly, with a tone that sounded shockingly broken. She was frozen. Stunned. By fear or surprise, or both. 
Another murmur, “Stay with me.”
It was a whimper shaped like a demand. With it, she swore she could feel a tremble in his grip. He buried his face in her hair, his bearded chin tucking into her shoulder. His arms locked her into an impenetrable grip. 
Instinct was screaming at her to break the hold. Told her she needed to fight. Or run, as far and fast as she could manage. 
It wouldn’t be very far. The previous afternoon he proved that he was more than capable of bringing her back. 
She let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. The way the air from his lungs ghosted over her nape made her eyes flutter shut. 
His arms were heavy. Firm, but not painful. Solid, not tight. She imagined the hearty limbs of the oak in the backyard of her childhood home. Three seasons out of the year, she’d scale into its arbor, hiding from her troubles. She once wanted to build a home there.
She should fight. She should run.
There was a monster in her bed. She was in a monster’s bed. 
And yet, sleep took her soon after. The most peaceful rest she’d had in ages.
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When she emerged from her rest, she was alone again. Harsh daylight flooded into the bedroom she hadn’t had the chance to see. After a moment of confusion, she turned around to see the other side of the bed unoccupied. The blankets undisturbed. She glanced down at her own clothes. Though wrinkled and dirtied from her tree climbing adventure and attempted escape, they were intact. 
She was surprised, but even more surprised at the strange mix of... anxiety? 
When is the appropriate amount of time when you’re forced into your kidnapper’s bed for him to... you know... make a move? Was it her? Was she awful, or even worse—did she smell bad? 
The line of self-conscious questioning and odd disappointment frustrated her further. She sighed, silenting cursing her own stupidity, shaking the thought from her mind. 
Someone once told her that if life was a horror film, she’d be the first to die. It would’ve offended her more if she wasn’t wrapped up in the notion that if life could be a horror film, how would any of us know we were in one?
Her mother answered— ”Stupid, stupid girl.”
Attention now turned to the surroundings, she came face-to-face with another real-life magazine spread. A dream bedroom. The coziest jewel of this particular dream home. 
Although it was a modest size, it didn’t feel that way. The primary bedroom was decorated with a soothing blend of alabaster stone, exposed beams of reclaimed wood, and snuggly linen tones. Vaulted ceilings lined with ash. A winding, black iron chandelier dangled over the four-post bed she laid in. A stone fireplace stood opposite from the bed, accompanied by an overstuffed linen chair. Just as in the other rooms, a double-height window accented with floor-to-ceiling drapes towered over the room and revealed the breathtaking mountain landscape.
She sat up and gathered her jaw up off of the bedspread. Wiped drool from her lip. The room was charming and warm, like fuzzy socks and sherpa blankets. Marshmallows melting on hot cocoa. It wrapped around her, like a hug.
Like her visitor last night.
She yanked her eyes off of the rustic-contemporary decor, searching for Peter, as if he would’ve somehow camouflaged himself into the space. Placing her socked feet down on the blessedly toasty hardwood, she peered around curiously. The gentle roar of water running caught her attention as she wandered to the other side of ithe room. An open doorway led into another massive space, one side lined with wardrobe cabinetry and the other half of the room obscured by a wall. 
Idly, she followed the path through what she recognized as a closet larger than her apartment, rounding the corner of the freestanding wall. Clouds billowed around her, as she gazed open-mouthed at the primary bathroom. Sunlight poured in, lighting up the space, bouncing off of white marble and black obsidian glass tile—
And Peter Parker. 
Steam wafting off of his nude form, hot water pouring down his backside. She paused midstep, eyes like saucers. Felt the blood rush to her face. Panic swallowed her. She imagined this is exactly what deers must feel right before getting plowed by an F-150, blinded by headlights. 
Except that she was blinded by his wet pale skin, the way the steam rose from it, like he was the source of heat. The smattering of freckles spread faintly across his shoulders. His palms were flat against the backsplash as he bowed his head into the stream of water. His dark locks slicked back by a cleansing cascade. 
She followed the current down the curve of his shoulders and the peaks of his spine, down to the dimpled valleys of his lower back, and that breathtaking canyon ridge that dips down in a V at his hips— whatever that’s called— and never in her life would she see herself as an ‘ass enthusiast,’ but her mouth was watering now, maybe from the lack of hair on his body (his skin was so buttery smooth, what was his skincare secret?) or the subtle curvature of his shapely cheeks— 
Aimlessly, she collided with a freestanding towel drying rack, sending it clamoring to the tile floor. To her ears it sounded like the whole Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade falling down a staircase into a pile of cookware. She didn’t bother to see if Peter could hear the racket.
Like Icarus into the Sun, she hurled her own body back into the closet before she could be seen. Landed hard on the carpeted floor with a thud. She scattered, scrambling like a crab, on her hands and knees until she could get to her feet and bolt from the room.
In a frenzy, she rushed to ‘her’ bedroom, the one nearest to the stairs. She didn’t breathe again until the door was slammed shut and she rested her weight against it. A fire raged beneath her skin, her face aflame with embarrassment. She dragged her palms down her cheeks, groaning with mortification, sinking to the floor.
At what point is it acceptable to creep on your kidnapper in the shower?
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Continue to Part 6
a/n - I've gotten such overwhelmingly amazing feedback on this. thank you so much to each of you that commented, sent me an ask, and big thank you to those of you that reblogged!
don't forget, to be tagged you must reblog so I can keep track of you!
thank you so much, angels!
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