#peter parker x you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

waitimcomingtoo · 2 days

Text

The Script

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Synopsis: you and Peter break up once you find out his secret and he falls apart

Masterlist

“We broke up.”

The words fell out of Peter’s mouth as he pulled his mask from his tear stained face. Ned turned around in his desk chair and pulled his earbuds out of his ears.

“What? No way.” He laughed dismissively at the assumed joke until he noticed the red rim around Peter’s eyes.

“It’s true. She broke up with me. She doesn’t want to be with me anymore.” Peter repeated through a childlike cry.

“But I thought you had a date tonight? Did something happen?”

10 minutes earlier

“Peter?”

Peter froze in the alleyway and stopped looking for his backpack. He turned around slowly and saw you standing there under a harsh street light with his backpack in your arms. The webs he had shot on it to keep it secured against the wall were still hanging off.

“It’s you? You’re the Spiderman?” You asked in a voice barely above a whisper. You were looking at him with a mixture of betrayal and confusion as you clutched his backpack like you were a child with a teddy bear. Peter still had his mask on so he stayed dead silent.

“Say something.” You seethed, a newfound anger in your voice and eyes. Peter gulped and nodded his head, knowing there was no point in lying.

“I am.” He said, making your face crumble when you heard his voice. You held the backpack tighter and stared at him as your face crumbled.

“What are you doing out here? Did you follow me?” Peter asked you.

“No. You never showed up to our date. I called you when I was walking home. Alone. I heard your phone ringing in this alley way. It was in your backpack. Here’s your stupid fucking backpack.” You said through clenched teeth and threw the backpack at him. He caught it with ease and dropped it to the floor.

“There have been Spiderman sightings on Youtube for years. Years. You never told me?” You asked and surveyed every inch of his suit as you saw it up close for the first time.

“Nobody knows.” He said quickly. “I mean, May knows. And Ned. And a handful of people I work with. But that’s it, I swear. I don’t expect you to understand this all right now but please believe that I have to keep my identity a secret for my safety. And your safety too.”

“You don’t expect me to understand?” You laughed and tilted your head to the side as if to ask if he was serious.

“I just mean that I know this is a lot to process right now.”

“It’s not a lot. You’re the Spiderman and you never thought that was something I should know. I had to find out on accident after getting stood up for the hundredth time. But, sure, I’m glad Ned knows.” You nodded and looked up so your tears wouldn’t fall.

“I would’ve have told you eventually. I just needed more time. If people knew who I was, everything would change. I wouldn’t be able to help people there way I do now. I couldn’t tell anyone.”

“Since when am I just “people”and “anyone” to you?” You shook your head. “How could you keep this from me for this long? We’ve been dating for over a year. And I’ve known you since middle school. How much time did you need?“

“I don’t know. It just never felt like the right moment to say it. I wanted to tell you so many times.”

“You just never did.” You shrugged. Peter recognized that the situation was quickly escalating and you were not reacting the way he always imagined you would.

“I don’t understand why you’re getting upset right now.” Peter said calmly. “I thought you’d be happy to understand why I have to miss so many dates and flake all the time.”

“You thought I’d be happy to learn that you’ve been lying to me for our entire relationship?” You laughed again as tears fell down your face.

“I wasn’t lying.” He defended. “I just couldn’t tell you the truth yet.”

“Yet. Right.” You smiled tightly. “We’re over a year in but haven’t gotten to the point where you can be honest with me. I see.”

“I am honest with you. This is the only thing I’ve ever lied to you about. I promise.” He said and tried to step closer to you. You immediately stepped back and hugged yourself.

“I thought you loved me.” You said as you stared at the ground.

“I do love you. How can you even question that?” He laughed in shock. You looked up at him and he saw that your anger had turned to sadness.

“Peter, you stood me up countless times. Tonight included. You let me cry myself to sleep for so many nights. All those times I walked home alone after already getting to the restaurant or watched movie by myself through tears because you couldn’t bother to show up. You knew I was feeling insecure lately about the distance between us but you still decided to say nothing to cue me in as to why it was happening. Do you know how painful it is to feel someone you love pulling away and have them tell you your suspicions are all unfounded? How long would you have let me feel that way if I hadn’t caught you tonight?”

“I…I don’t know. I’m sorry. I didn’t think about how this was affecting you.” Peter said quietly.

“Of course you didn’t.”

“Look, I know this is really upsetting now, but I’ll make it up to you. I promise.” Peter said and put his hands on his shoulders. You pushed him off of you and took a step back. Peter gulped and wondered how he was going to make it out of this conversation alive because he had never seen you reject him like this.

“You always say that. And you never do. I have a long list of things I’m still waiting for you to make up for. Why should I believe this time is different?” You asked him and folded your arms.

“It will be different. I promise. I’ll fix this. Stop walking away from me.” Peter pleaded and reached out to touch your face.

“It’ll be different. You promise. You say the same thing every time. And yet, I always end up crying over you. I shouldn’t have to cry over a relationship I’m still in.” You said as you pushed his hand away from you. An anxiety built in Peter’s stomach as he was used to you telling him it was fine every time he had disappointed you in the past. This time was clearly different and he didn’t know what to do. You turned and started to walk away from him so he quickly followed after.

“Where are you going?”

“Home, Peter.” You said without stopping.

“No. You can’t leave now. We have to talk about this. I’ll listen to whatever you have to say. You can take it all out on me. Just don’t go, please.” Peter begged as he stepped in front of you to stop you.

“I don’t want to cry anymore, Peter. I’m done. This is done.” You cried and pushed past him to keep walking. Peter froze when he heard you use that word and felt his blood run cold.

“What? Done? Done with what?”

“With you. With us. With all of it. I’m not doing this anymore. I’m breaking up with you.” You said as you turned around to look at him. Peter felt his stomach drop and could barely hear you over the sound of his heart pounding in his ears.

“What? We can’t just break up. I love you.” He protested as he got that feeling in his nose that told him he was about to cry.

“That’s not good enough for me.” You shook your head.

“What?”

“You can say you love me as much as you want but until you prove that, I can’t be with you. I won’t be with you. I’m done.” You repeated and turned to walk away again. Peter quickly ran after you and dropped down to his knees in front of you.

“No, no. No. Please. Don’t leave me. Please. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, baby. Just give me one more chance.” He begged as he took both your hands. You looked down at him for a long time as you thought things he wished he could hear.

“Please.” He whispered, barely audible. You looked up again but it was no use to stop your tears from falling.

“Say something.” He pleaded and squeezed your hands.

“I’m saying goodbye.” You said after a beat of silence. Peter made the mistake of letting his hopes build up during that silence. He stayed on his knees as you pulled your hands out of his and walked away. His tears fell rapidly down his face and it wasn’t long before his heartache turned into misplaced anger. He got off his knees and turned in your direction.

“You’re not being fair.” He called down the street. You stopped in your tracks and turned around.

“Excuse me?”

“This isn’t fair. I didn’t ask to be bitten. I didn’t ask for this life and all this responsibility. But it happened to me and I’ll never know why but I do know that I have to do something about it. I wish I could be a normal guy my age and take my girlfriend on dates, but I can’t. I have a duty to this city to protect it. I hate that it’s true but sometimes, I have to chose helping someone in need over spending time with you. You’re acting like I went out of my way to neglect you on purpose.”

“I understand that you didn’t choose this, but you could have told me all of that from the start. Then maybe I would’ve been more sympathetic. But right now, all I can think about is every little lie you told me to keep me in the dark. Oh, I’m sick. Oh, I have homework. Oh, I have to help my boss with something. Tonight, you told me you weren’t gonna make it to our date because your aunt needed help with something. You didn’t even care enough to lie about what she needed help with. But, yet, at least I got a lie tonight. Sometimes you just don’t show up.”

“I had to lie, okay? Do you have any idea how much danger I’d be in if you let it slip who I really was?”

“So is it that you couldn’t tell anyone or you couldn’t trust me not to tell?” You asked as you walked back up to him.

“You know how you are. You tell your friends everything.” He said coldly.

“Are you seriously saying this is my fault?” You raised your eyebrows.

“I’m not saying it’s your fault.” He sighed. “I’m just saying that you’re being kind of selfish right now.“

“I’m being selfish?”

“Yes, you are. It’s selfish to expect me to prioritize you over the safety of-“

“Of who?” You cut him off. “Of literally all of New York? Of the world? Where does your domain of responsibility end? Who do you prioritize me over? Where do I rank? When do I matter to you?”

“That’s not fair.” Was all he could say because he didn’t know the answer to your questions.

“You know what else isn’t fair? Making me have to be the only bad guy here. Because the funny thing is that I would have been proud of you. I would have been honored to be the girlfriend of someone who risked their life and gave their time to protect people they didn’t even know. But you never gave me the opportunity to feel that way. You chose to lie to me. You chose this over me every single time. You never chose me. That’s why we’re breaking up. I would have understood if you needed to prioritize saving lives over dates with me but I cannot understand you lying to my face every single day for years. I spent birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, and countless nights staring at the empty seat I saved for you that you never showed up to. So no, I don’t think I’m being selfish right now. I don’t think it was selfish of me to share my boyfriend with all of New York.”

Peter was quiet again as he processed what you had said. There was no way to undo what he had done and it was clear apologizing wasn’t cutting it this time.

“I don’t know how to be without you. You’re my best friend. None of this matters without you.” Peter said in a small voice. You sighed and felt sympathetic towards him for just a moment.

“Peter, you were and always will be my first love. That’s always going to mean something to me. But now I have to look back at our relationship and never know what was real and what was a lie. If you’re not going to choose me, then I will. I’m done waiting around for you. I’m done.”

“Please, don’t give up on me. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He croaked out.

“But you did.”

“I know. I know I did. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, baby. I’ll never stop trying to make things right.” He pleaded and tried to reach for you again.

“Don’t bother, Peter. You need to stay away from me for a while.” You told him in a calm voice.

“What? How long?” He blinked in disbelief.

“I don’t know. A long time.”

“But can we at least be friends? Like we were before?” He asked desperately.

“We can’t be friends.” You shook your head and turned to leave again.

“What? Not even friends?” His voice cracked as he called after you.

“I can’t be your friend. I can’t be in any kind of relationship with you. That’s what I’m trying to say here. I don’t trust you.”

“Ever?” He squeaked out. “We can’t ever find our back to each other?”

You didn’t answer him as you walked home alone. Peter stood on the sidewalk for a long time, unsure of what to do with himself now. He wanted to run after you and get you to see his side, but he knew that would just make things worse. You had said what you needed to say and he had to respect that as much as it pained him to see you walk away. Instead of going after you, he swung to Ned’s house and climbed through his window.

“We broke up.” The words fell out of Peter’s mouth as he pulled his mask from his tear stained face.

Peter let a month pass before he tried to speak to you again. Minus a few texts and voicemails left on particularly miserable nights, he had left you alone for the most part. But after counting down the 31 painfully long and quiet days without you, he went up to you in the hallway on campus one day.

“Hey.” He greeted you with an anxious smile. You stopped walking and looked behind you to make sure you were the one he was talking to.

“Hi.” You said with knit eyebrows of confusion.

“How are you? How have you been?”

“I’m fine.” You said flatly.

“Did you just come from class? Was it okay?”

“Um, I really don’t want to be mean here but why are you talking to me?” You asked him. Peter blinked in surprise at your response and lost all the confidence he had built up.

“Oh, um. I don’t know. We haven’t talked into a month. I was giving you space.”

“Why’d you stop?”

“Stop what?”

“Giving me space.” You replied. “I still don’t want to talk to you.”

“But it’s been a month.” He pointed out and realized how silly he sounded as it came out of his mouth.

“Okay? We ended a year long relationship and years of friendship. We can’t just go back to normal after that.”

“But…but we’re different.” He stammered. “We were different. I thought, I don’t know, maybe…”

“Maybe what? I’ll just forget about the shit you put me through?” You asked when he trailed off. He shut his mouth and went quiet and you couldn’t help but feel bad at the deer in headlights look he had in his eyes.

“Peter, I told you.” You sighed. “We can’t be friends.”

“I know we can’t go right back to how we were but we don’t have to pretend the other doesn’t even exist.” He insisted.

“No, Peter, you’re not understanding. I won’t be your friend. I won’t even fake niceties with you. I’m not trying to be mean but I don’t want you in my life in any capacity. I’m not changing my mind on this.”

“We can’t just never speak again. Our story can’t end like this.” He said quietly and you could tell he was on the verge of tearing up.

“It wasn’t supposed to. But it is. So please, just leave me alone.” You asked calmly so that he wouldn’t break down.

“I can’t. This is killing me. You and I not being together doesn’t make sense to me. Please. I’ll do anything to make this right. I still love you and-“

“Peter. Please. We’re at school.” You cut him off and uncomfortably looked around for who was listening.

“You’re telling me you don’t feel anything for me anymore? Because I don’t believe that. I know you. I know you can’t shake things that easily.”

“I didn’t think so either. But I’ve never been hurt like this.”

“Then can we please go somewhere and talk? I’ll listen this time. I swear.” Peter pleaded and stepped forward to touch your arm. You stared at him for a minute and looked sympathetic so he thought you might say yes.

“I can’t.” You said finally. “I have class. I have to go.”

“Oh, okay.” He nodded in disappointment. “Maybe some other time then. Just please know how sorry I am for hurting you.”

“You don’t need to keep apologizing, Peter.” You sighed. “I’ve moved on. I think you should too.”

“You’ve moved on? Like, with another guy?” Peter blinked a few times to stop the tears he felt threatening to spill out at this new bit of information.

“Not that it would be any of your business if I did, but no.” You amswered. “I just mean that I’d been mourning our relationship before it even ended so I accepted our breakup a long time ago. I’ve moved on now.”

“Were you really that unhappy?” Peter asked in a small voice.

“Well, yeah, Peter.” You admitted. “I loved you when you were around but it felt awful the nights you were gone. I felt completely alone a lot of the time. And even when you were with me, I was never sure you wanted to be there.”

“I always wanted to be with you.” He promised. “If you ever believe something I say again, just know how badly I wished I could have been there with you.”

You chewed your bottom lip and stared into his eyes as you tried to decide if you should believe him or not. You swore never to believe another word out of his mouth but his tired eyes seemed so genuine that you knew there must be truth to his words. But even if he was telling the truth, that didn’t matter to you anymore.

“I can’t talk about this right now. I have class.”You repeated. “Get some sleep tonight, okay? You don’t look so good.”

Another month went by and Peter was starting to feel used to not speaking to you. The thought of it beginning to feel normal to not have you in his life scared him so he called you up one night and listened to your voicemail with tears in his eyes. By month three, he pretty much just felt numb. He was falling to pieces very quickly and you were the only one who could save him. He’d seen you around on campus and sometimes get a pity wave if he stared too long. Every so often, he’d follow you home but keep his distance on rooftops. He swore you knew he was there as sometimes you’d stop and look up. He made no effort to hide but you made no effort to seek him out.

Peter was on his nightly patrol one night when his police radio started going crazy. He heard the words “bus crash” and “pile up” being reported over and over so he picked up his radio to listen for where it was. Once he had a location, he swung to the bridge and landed in the middle of the scene. Peter saw one of the large city buses on its side and twenty some cars piled up behind it. Police officers were already on the scene and helping people but Peters senses were telling him danger was still present.

“How can I help?” Peter asked an officer.

“Usually I don’t like seeing you at crime scenes but you might be able to help us. A bus is about to over the side of the bridge and our extraction guys are having a hard time getting onto the bridge with all the traffic.”

“Which bus?” Peter asked and looked around.

“It’s over there. Bus Q8.” The officer pointed out. There was a bus hanging over the side of the bridge with its nose pointed towards the water. Peter could see people inside trying to stay calm so they didn’t shake the bus.

“Q8? My girlfriend takes that bus.” Peter’s mouth went dry as his head shot back to the bus teetering over the edge of the bridge.

“Then you better hurry.” The officer called after Peter. The bus was on its side so Peter opened up the emergency hatch on the top and climbed inside. He calmed down the people on the bus one by one and assured them that he was there to get them to safety. As he spoke to the passengers, he kept an eye out for you but didn’t see you in any of the seats. You normally took the bus home at this time and Peter found it hard to believe this was the one day you didn’t.

“Was there a girl on this bus with a purple backpack? She was wearing brown converse and a jean jacket today. Did any see her?” He asked the passengers.

“Yeah. She was sitting over there.” Someone answered and pointed to the back of the bus. Peter went to your seat but only found your backpack.

“This is her backpack. Where is she?” He asked and felt his fear rise quickly. He looked around and saw that the back door of the bus was opened. He pushed the door open a little more and the bus wobbled at his movement.

“Did she leave?” Peter asked with his panic evident in his voice.

“She was helping a few people get out of the back until this little boy ran out. She told the mom she’d go find him. I haven’t seen her since.” Someone else informed him.

“Okay. Thank you. I’m gonna get you guys to safety.” Peter promised. He helped people out of the back of the bus one by one after securing the bus to the bridge with his webs. Once he was sure everyone was out safely, he began to search for you. He had an anxiety like nothing he had ever felt as he searched through the crowds for your face. As he looked around the scene, he heard a woman talking to a police officer about a girl falling over into the water. Peter felt his hair stand up and approached them.

“Excuse me? Was the girl who fell into the water wearing brown converse?” He asked and hoped the answer was no.

“I think so.” The woman replied but couldn’t be sure.

“Can you tell me what happened?” He asked.

“This girl helped me get my son after he ran off the bus. He had climbed into an empty car nearby to hide so she climbed in to get him. But the car fell into the water before she could get out herself.” The woman replied as she clutched her son to her chest.

“Did…did the car go under?” Peter asked with a dry mouth. The woman looked pained at his question and he already knew her answer.

“When I looked over the side, I saw it sink under the water. I’m so sorry. There was nothing I could do. Did you know her?” The woman asked and placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder. The police officer started asking Peter questions but he couldn’t hear anything. He felt like he was about to pass out and stumbled backwards. He took off running towards the side of the bridge and looked over into the water. The rocky river water looked especially treacherous that night, sending a sick feeling to Peter’s stomach. He wasted no time and dove into the water in search of you. He swam down and eventually found a car in the water but when he pulled the doors open, there was no sign of you. Peter quickly swam up to gasp for air before going back down to look again. He did this five times before he exhausted himself. He dragged himself onto the little patch of grass at the base of the bridge and laid on the ground. He pulled his mask off and let out a guttural sob as he covered his face with his hands. He knew he had to pull himself up and help the people on the bridge but his entire body felt like lead. He rubbed the saltwater out of his eyes and took another minute to recover. As he rolled over to get himself up, he made eye contact with you.

“Peter?” You asked in a shaky voice. You were wet from the river and holding yourself as you slowly walked toward him.

“You’re okay?” Peter asked as he got up off the ground. You were shivering from the cold and he wished desperately that he had something he could cover you with.

“Yeah. I managed to get out through the trunk of the car. I was on the other side of the platform when I heard you crying. Did you go looking for me?” You asked when you realized he was wet too. Peter was still in stunned silence at the sight of you okay after accepting that you had likely drowned.

“You’re okay.” He said and started to get all chocked up again. Peter took a step forward and opened his arms to hug you hit stopped himself. He stepped back and hugged himself instead.

“What are you doing?” You wondered.

“Giving you space.” He said seriously. It made you laugh for some reason which he didn’t understand but he didn’t question it.

“Shut up.” You said when your laughter stopped.

“I didn’t say anything.” Peter said as you threw your arms around him. He stumbled back in surprise but then hugged you back tightly. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and slipped his hands into your hair to hold you closer. It felt like muscle memory to hold you again and the chill in his bones was gone in seconds.

“That was really scary. When the car fell into the water. I couldn’t breathe.” You choked out and he held you tighter.

“I know. Shhh. I know.” He whispered in your ear as you struggled to catch your breath. You pulled away just a little so that you could look at him.

“I thought of you.” You admitted. “When I was trying to find my way back to the surface. I was so tired and my lungs felt like they were going to explode but I just kept thinking that I needed to see you again. That’s what kept me going.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to you sooner. I should’ve been here.”

“It’s okay. You’re here now.” You smiled sadly and touched his face. Peter returned the sad smile, the kind the made his eyes crinkle. But as he stared into your eyes, he couldn’t help but think of the things you had said the night you broke up.

“I should’ve been there for you a lot more than I ever had been.” He began. “You didn’t deserve to spend all those nights alone wondering where I was. I should’ve been a better boyfriend to you. I should have just told you the truth. I don’t even know who I was protecting in the end. I told myself it was you but that’s not true because you still got hurt and I was the one who hurt you. And I’m so sorry for that. I’m so fucking sorry. I’m sorry for all of it.”

“Peter, you don’t have to do this right now.” You assured him.

“I do. Because I don’t know when you’re gonna talk to me again and I have so much I have to tell you. So I need you to know that I’m sorry for all the times you got dressed up for me and just never showed. I’m sorry I let you think the distance between us was all in your head even though I felt it too. I’m sorry for all the calls and texts after we broke up because I could never stay away from you. And for following you home everyday because you looking up when you thought to was around was the closest to an encounter that we had most days. And I’m sorry that I clearly didn’t love you hard enough if you were able to move on so quickly. I guess the absence of my love wasn’t much worse than the presence of it. Or maybe the presence of it already felt like an absence. I know I was barely there in the end. I know you deserve better. And I hope you get better. You were always the best part of me and now I’m just the loser who got really lucky that a cool girl liked him and found a way to fuck it all up.”

“You didn’t fuck it all up.” You smiled sadly. “We had a lot of good times too. We were happy.”

“Not enough for you to stay. Which I don’t blame you for. I wish it didn’t take losing you to realize how much I needed to change but it did. So I don’t blame you for being fine without me. You’ll always be fine. You’re better off now without me in your life and I’m just falling to pieces. I guess when a heart breaks, it doesn’t break even.”

You started at him for a moment as your eyebrows came together. You let out a short laugh and expected him to do the same but he just looked confused.

“That’s that song.” You said finally.

“What?”Peter frowned. “What song? I’m pouring my heart out here.”

“I’m falling to pieces, yeah. I’m falling to piece, yeah. Cause when a heartbreak no it don’t break even.” You sang quietly and Peters eyes went up in surprise.

“Oh shit. It is that song.” Peter realized. “Damn it. I thought I made that up. I’ve been listening to The Script a lot lately. Especially the one that’s like “cause if one day you wake up and find that you’re missing me and your heart starts to wonder where on this earth I could be.” I’ve been blasting that one so much that May had to take my speakers away. So then I started scream-singing it and she threatened to kick me out.”

“It’s so like you to accidentally quote a popular song and think you made it up yourself.” You laughed softly. “You said I so confidently that I genuinely believe for a second that those were your own words. But no. It was just the musical stylings of the popular early 2000s band The Script.”

“The Script are the only people that understand me right now.” Peter mumbled, making you laugh again.

“You laugh but they make the best music for yearning.” Peter continued just to make you laugh again. He smiled at the sight of you laughing at something he had said after so many months of silence between you. When your laughter died down, you looked at him for a moment the way that you used to.

“I don’t want you to yearn anymore.” You told him and gave his hand a squeeze. Peter understood what you were getting at and nodded his head.

“Do you think we could try again?” He asked in a soft voice. You smiled a little and took a step closer to him to rest your hands on his chest.

“I think so.” You answered.

“I swear, everything will be different this time.” He insisted. “I won’t leave you lonely anymore. And we can take it at any pace you need. Just tell me what I can do to earn back your trust.”

“I don’t know. I think maybe I can trust a guy who dives into the Hudson River for me.” You said with a coy smile as you nodded towards the water.

“I really hate to do this right now but that’s actually the East River of-“

“I don’t care.” You laughed and pulled him into a kiss to shut him up.

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im-sleepdeprived · 1 day

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Crazier • Pt. 3

pairing: mcu!peter parker x reader

a/n: ITS FINALLY HERE omg I loved writing this series so much it had a blast. thank you for everyone who was asking me about part 3 because it felt amazing knowing you enjoyed it as much as me😭💕💕 it hope you enjoy !! (beware, she is long)

warnings: some angst thrown in here and there, fluff (later), mentions of breakups, mentions of cheating, very very brief mention of suicide ( someone mentions and old author who offed themselves), me not knowing anything about theater (I apologize in advance), glitter

read part 1 here & part 2

"And when we got the chair, Brad made me sit in it and he pushed me around the whole school!" You were telling Spider-Man about your day, and as always, he listened politely, only chiming every now and then.

"Wow, you and this Brad guy sure did a lot together today, huh?" He said, and even with the voice changer, you could tell he sounded a bit off. "I mean yeah! He's a great guy, way cooler than I originally thought.” You told him, making him grind his teeth hard, not that you saw that.

"Actually I'm a little upset that the play is about to come to an end." Your voice gets a little softer as you confess what's been on your mind today. "The rehearsals have been a blast, and the people are amazing and it's been such a good distraction from everything. I'm really sad to see it go," you looked down at your hands.

Peter took one look at your expression and knew there was something else you weren't telling him. "Well what kinds of things do you need a distraction from?" he asked carefully.

"Um," you looked anywhere but at him, "well, my parents have been fighting a lot lately and it's just been really hard to be around the house, everything's so tense."

His lips parted but nothing came out. He knew about your parents, of course, whenever things got bad you'd always run over to his place to hang out. But now you couldn't do that anymore, so you were just looking for any way to avoid coming home for as long as you could.

"And of course, there's that whole breakup." you continued. "But I've been pretty good at ignoring that so far, and I think that's just the way I'll keep going." You drummed your fingers on your thigh as you stared into nothing.

"Do you really think that's the best way to go about it?" He asked hesitantly. "Maybe you shouldn't just completely ignore something like that."

You gave him a questioning look, "And why wouldn't I want to forget about it? Isn't that what you're supposed to do eventually after a breakup?"

"Yeah, eventually," he repeated, "but wasn't that relationship a big part of you? Ignoring everything isn't gonna make all your feelings go away. You have to face your emotions, embrace them, and go through the motions before moving on."

He hated that you seemed to be fine all of a sudden. That you were getting so close with this Brad guy all of a sudden. It might've been selfish, but Peter didn't wanna see you moving on just yet, he still had a tiny hope in the back of his brain that you might take him back if he waited till just the right time. But the more you kept talking, the more that tiny hope diminished.

You snorted, "Ok Dr. Spider-Man, I'm not sure a guy running around New York in a bright onesie is qualified to give out relationship advice, but you do you.”

He couldn't help but let out a laugh. "I'll let you know I give out great relationship advice and I'm not wearing a onesie," he huffed. "It's a super suit."

That just made you laugh harder, "Yeah, sure, whatever dude."

"So you and your team won?" he asked. He wasn't about to waste the only time in the day when he got to speak with you being jealous. He was gonna keep this conversation going. Try his best to give you what he never could as Peter.

"Yes!" you beamed. "Oh and look," you scrambled around looking for the crown you had received after you won. You had brought it up with you just so you could show him.

You put it on and straightened your posture, "We were rewarded with these fabulous crowns.”

Spider-Man let out a loud laugh. "Wow, you look like true royalty."

"Don't I?" you grinned. "I always wanted to be a princess when I grew up, so this is very fitting for me." You tapped the crown lightly and grinned at him.

Peter was sure he was grinning like a lovesick idiot. He remembered you telling him this, your crazy childhood dream during one of your late-night talks. He truly believed that if anyone in this whole world were some kind of royalty, it would be you.

“Just like Rapunzel.” He murmured. Your head perked up at that. “Oh my god,” you rush, “YES! Holy shit! She was my absolute favorite as a kid, how'd you know that?”

He fumbles a little but quickly finds himself. “You were humming ‘I See The Light’ a couple days ago. It was an educated guess.” You can hear the grin in his voice. “Glad to know I got it right though.”

You laughed a little and settled back down. “Dude, I'm not kidding. I used to eat yellow flowers as a kid 'cause I thought they’d give me magic hair.”

At that, Peter loses his mind. He’s cracking up and you're joining in beside him. This, he thinks to himself. This is what he’s been missing. This is how things should be. He can't help himself, the words are leaving his mouth before he can even gather his thoughts.

“So what about your ex? How’ve things been going with him?” Nice going dumbass. She's never gonna wanna talk with you again if you keep mentioning her ex-boyfriend.

You looked at him weirdly and started twisting the ring on your finger. “Why do you wanna know?”

“I-just I…” he scratched the back of his neck, “Well actually, I'm going through a breakup too, right now, and I guess…I don't know, hearing you talk about it, about him, makes me feel less alone.”

Peter Parker feels like shit. He feels like a total asshole. And yet, he doesn't feel bad enough to stop, to come clean. Not yet at least. He tried making himself feel better by thinking, ‘Well it's not a lie. I am going through a breakup. She just doesn't know with who.’

You stared up at him, shocked. He never shared anything about himself. Not a thing. You two joked back and forth but you were usually the one sharing personal issues (or triumphs, like today). You start to wonder what his personal life looks like. He can't be that much older than you from what you can tell by his sense of humor and some of his references. This man, no, boy, who spends practically all his time running around one of the most popular cities in the world, saving lives and changing them, is going through a breakup. And he’s currently sitting on a rooftop with you and talking about it.

You blew out a long breath. “If Spider-Man can’t find love, none of us stand a chance.”

He let out a soft laugh at that. “Ah, I wouldn't say that. I definitely have my fair share of flaws. And then some.”

You shake your head, “I'm sure the good outweighs the bad. I mean, come on,” you gestured towards him.

He laughed again. “So tell me, you still see him every day, right?

You nodded, deciding that if this made him feel less alone, you could do this.

“Is it hard?”

You shrugged, “Honestly, I have no idea. I’ve been avoiding him like the plague. I’ve only run into him once and it was when me and another friend went to grab ice cream at our old hangout spot. I couldn’t look at him. I haven’t spoken to him since everything and I don’t really want to. Not anytime soon.”

He sighed. Of course, you didn’t wanna speak to him as Peter. He’d totally fucked you over, he’s lucky he found any kind of loophole at all because he really doesn’t think he can handle not speaking completely.

“How do you think he feels?” He has no clue where the question came from but now that he’s asked, he can’t help the curiosity bubbling in him.

You run a hand through your hair and sigh, “I have no idea. One second he’s avoiding eye contact in the school hallway and the next, he’s staring daggers at me in an ice cream shop. He’s weird.”

Spider-Man chuckled lightly, “Yeah, he sounds like he is.”

“Do you see your ex a lot?” You hope he doesn’t see it as prying, you just want to see how similar your situations are.

“Yeah, actually, I do.” He nods but says nothing else.

“Is it hard?” You ask softly.

He nods again, keeping his eyes low. “Crazy hard. Especially when I know everything is my fault.”

“Do you think she’d ever forgive you?” He only shrugged. “Do you want her to forgive you?”

He looks up at you, “Would you ever forgive your ex? After whatever it is that he did, I mean.”

You took a moment to think. “I don’t know. I think it’s different. I mean, I don’t know what happened between you guys, but I think with Peter and I, I think he was starting to lose interest.”

He can feel his heart drop. “What? Why would you say that?”

“Yeah,” you continued, not taking notice of the spider slightly freaking out beside you, “he just stopped caring. Stopped showing up, and stopped listening. If I didn’t know any better I’d actually think he’d cheated on me.”

“No way! I mean-,” he cleared his throat a little, trying not to sound as anxious as he felt, “Do you… do you actually that he did? Cheated, I mean. Do you seriously think he cheated on you?”

Please say no, please say no, please say-

“No, of course not,” you told him honestly. “Peter’s a lot of things, but he’s not a cheater. I’d accuse him of that.” You paused for a moment. “But there was something…I don’t know what. There was something he wasn’t telling me.”

He let out a breath of relief. Thank god, he doesn’t think he could’ve handled knowing you thought of him that way. And it’s true, he would’ve never stooped so low. As for the ‘something’…

“Say he were to show up, right now, knocking on your door. Begging to have you back and swearing that he’s changed. Would it work?” He asked half serious and half joking.

You laughed a little, “No, but it’d probably piss off my parents.”

He grinned beside you, his mask shifting slightly at the movement. “Aw come on. Not one for big romantic gestures?” He nudged your shoulder a little.

You smiled but your expression fell as you thought about his words some more. “No, I’m just not one for empty promises. Which is all he had to give me after a while. He used to be amazing, he used to be the perfect boyfriend. The Peter I knew disappeared and I wasn’t a fan of the one who replaced him.”

You look up at him and grin. “If there’s any chance of anything being repaired between us. Even a friendship. He’s gonna need to get his shit together.”

“So he cheated on her, which fueled her depression, and ultimately led to her suicide. And that wasn’t enough so he burned her most of her work, and profited off of the rest of it after she died!”

This is what your mornings looked like lately. Hanging out with MJ so much had been…interesting to say the least. There was always something you could learn from her. Currently, she was telling you all about some ancient female author’s shitty husband as you waited beside her locker while she grabbed everything she’d need for her next class.

“Every article online about it says ‘allegedly’ but fuck that. It’s totally the truth,” She finished.

“God. That sounds awful,” you grimaced. “Whatever happened to him? Didn’t they have kids?”

“Oh, he married someone, won a ton of awards everyone loved him. And yes, a son, who also dies by suicide, and a daughter. I'm pretty sure she writes kids' books now.”

You sucked in a breath. “Holy shit. And where did you learn all this?”

She shrugged. “I read a lot.”

“Right,” you nod, unable to completely shake off the grossness that story left you feeling. “So,” you started, hoping to change the subject. “What do you have next again?”

“Biology. But I think we have a sub today, so that’ll be fun.” She slammed her locker shut, leaned on it slightly, and turned toward you. “What about you?”

You shook your head at her, “Free period. I was gonna catch up on my reading for AP Lit. Hey,” you wondered aloud, “is it that sub that marks people tardy even if they’re a second late? I can’t stand him.”

She sprung up. “Shit. Shit. Fuck,” she rushed out. “It is. And I can’t get another tardy otherwise I get detention. Again. And my parents would kill me.”

You nodded, completely understanding. “Okay. Well, I’m just gonna go grab my stuff and head to the library. See you later!”

“Bye Y/N/N!” She yelled over her shoulder, already halfway down the hall.

You laughed lightly before heading to your own locker. You opened it and grabbed your bag when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

You slam your locker shut and turn around, only to come face to face with Brad. “Hey, Brad!” You grinned.

You’d never really noticed Brad before. You never had anything against him, you both just ran in different crowds. Even after you both started working on the play, you were friendly with each other but it never went past a simple smile, wave, or quick ‘hello’. But in light of recent events, you were really starting to think of him as a friend.

“Hey.” He smiled right back. “Saw you here and thought I’d just stop by and ask how you’ve been.”

You gave him a closed-lip smile as you leaned back against the lockers. “That’s sweet. I’ve been okay, long morning though. What about you?”

He nodded. “Same. Stayed up pretty late last night going over my lines.”

“Really? Don’t really think you need that. I’ve seen you at rehearsals, you’re a natural Brad.”

“Yeah? You think?” He grinned wide at your compliment and ran a hand over his hair. “I’ve got ‘em memorized and all, but I just wanna make sure I know them, y’know?”

You nodded. He wants to make sure his delivery is as good as his memory. That’s another thing you didn’t expect from Brad Davis. His passion for theater.

“Well like I said, I’ve seen you at rehearsals and I mean it when I say I think you’re fine. More than fine actually. So don’t stress yourself out Davis, you’re gonna be amazing.”

He beamed at you like a child. “Thank you Y/N, seriously. You don’t know how much that means.”

You smiled right back at him. “Anytime.”

It was quiet between you two for a bit, and you didn’t really know what to say. You were about to ask if he had a class he needed to get to when, suddenly, he took a few steps closer to you.

That automatically took any words that might’ve been on your tongue and threw them in the dumpster behind the school.

“There’s um, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you, actually.” His voice is softer but, you hear every word and you can almost feel his breath on your face.

“Oh?” Your voice matches his volume. This can't be happening. He knows you just broke up with Peter. He’s gotta be kidding. Or maybe, he’s about to ask something about the play. Yes, you think, he’s got a question about the play and he’s come to ask me, obviously, because I’m the director.

The halls are quiet now, everyone else is in class, at the library, or something. It's just you and Brad, standing so close you could count his lashes.

Just you and Brad. Brad, who won’t stop staring into your eyes for some reason, so you’re just left standing there….you and Brad.

And Peter.

The sound of squeaky sneakers running down the hall seems to break him out of whatever trance he was held in and he steps back a bit, almost causing you to let out an audible sigh of relief. God, you could just kiss the person who decided to unintentionally interrupt whatever moment was just happening between you two.

Or not.

Because when you both turned to see who it was, your heart fell. Peter Parker is standing there, backpack hanging off his elbow, binder bursting with loose papers in hand, and staring at you like a deer caught in headlights.

For a second, none of you say anything. Brad’s looking confused, staring at Peter. Peter is looking at you, then at Brad, then at you again. And you, well, you’re just wishing the school hallway would split in half and swallow you whole. You’ve run through a few different scenarios in your head, and falling into the earth’s core sounds the most appealing.

Then Peter moves closer, clearing his throat as he approaches the both of you. “Hey guys, how’ve you been?” He asked.

Neither you nor Brad replied.

“Right. Hey man,” he turned to face Brad, his face suddenly serious, “don’t you drive a black BMW? Red rims, red interior?”

“Um, yeah, I do,” Brad answered skeptically.

Peter blew out a long breath. “Think you might be in trouble dude. I just heard the principal saying he was gonna get it towed, something about you parking wrong.”

“What?!” Brad’s whole demeanor changed on a dime and you almost felt sorry for him.

Peter held up both his hands. “I’m serious man, that’s what I heard. But don’t ask me,” he pointed to the hall behind him, “go ask Mr. Morita.”

Brad stared at you for a moment before walking off, mumbling something about ‘another fucking ticket’ as you watched him leave. You almost grabbed his arm like a child, almost asked him to stay, just so you wouldn’t be alone with Peter.

You swallowed. Brad had finally turned the corner, leaving him officially out of your eyesight and leaving you standing alone with your ex. It’s funny really, how you went from talking about suicidal classic authors with your friend a few minutes ago, to this.

Yup, the Earth’s core sounds amazing right now.

For all the words he had to say when Brad was here, Peter was awfully silent now, doing that weird stare thing he did in the ice cream shop the other day. But there was no Ned to play polite this time, and no MJ to hold on a leash so she doesn’t bite. It was just you and him.

And you had no problem running.

You turned so quick, it took him a second to register the movement, and by the time he did, you were halfway down the hall. He ran after you.

“Y/N, wait. Please.” He reached out a hand to place on your shoulder. You jerked away, his hand barely brushing your cardigan.

You’re both standing in the hallway, and you’re still avoiding his eyes when you say, “We’re not doing this.” You shook your head and ran off, leaving a somber-eyed Peter in your wake.

There was no parking violation. Peter lied. But he had to.

He’d gotten caught up doing some last-minute homework in the library. Spider-Man duties were keeping him busy lately because when he wasn’t fighting crime on the streets of Queens, he was spending time with you.

He knows it isn’t right, he knows it isn’t fair, but god if it doesn’t feel good. He loves spending time with you and he hates that he can’t do it more often, hates even more that it’s his fault. And he damn sure wasn’t going to cut your meetups short because he had a few math questions waiting to be answered.

So on his way back, the halls were empty when he suddenly heard a very familiar voice. You.

But you were with someone. Brad. The thought made him roll his eyes.

You were currently going off about how great Brad was doing so far in his role in the play you were managing. Stupid Brad, Peter was sure the only reason anything was going right in the planning of the show was because of you, you were the best person they could’ve picked for the job and all Brad had to do was say a few lines. You were the one who dealt with everything else. Brad should’ve been praising you, not the other way around.

He’d heard Brad’s response to your compliments and almost rolled his eyes again until he heard your response. Of course, you were being an absolute sweetheart. You probably had no clue what words like that meant coming for someone like you. You were probably oblivious to your effect on people, as you were probably oblivious to Brad’s true feelings about you.

You both went quiet for a moment, leaving Peter to wonder what happened when he heard Brad’s voice again.

“There’s um, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you, actually.”

No.

No, no, no, no. No.

If he were totally honest with himself, he knew it was coming. Especially after you told him about your little scavenger hunt around the school, and how well you got along with him, how kind he was being towards you. Brad didn’t just randomly see you in the hall and decide to say ‘hey’. He had class. Peter knew because he was supposed to be in that exact class right now.

He could handle another detention.

Before he even knew it, he was running down the halls. He had no idea what he was going to do, even less what he was going to say but none of that mattered at the moment. He just had to make sure this didn’t go any further. There was no way he could stand by and listen to you agree to go out with some other guy.

And then he was standing there, you’d both seen him, and it was too late to turn back. He stared for a minute, noticing how close Brad was standing next to you. His gaze flickered between you and him and all he could think was how wrong it would be for you to end up with someone like Brad. Stupid, stupid Brad, who hung out with all the stupid jocks, and threw those stupid house parties all the time. Who only talked about his stupid car, and what model it was-

An Idea popped into his head.

He couldn’t help it. Bro Peter stepped out and dealt with Brad, knowing the one thing that would completely get rid of him at the moment. He wasn’t thinking about the consequences.

As he’d suspected Brad left with almost no hesitation, Peter almost doubling over with how quickly he fell for it.

And then, he was left with you, and every ounce of confidence, every word in his lifelong vocabulary, crumbled. It never ceased to amaze him how easily you could completely undo him. He was an avenger, for crying out loud, he had literally saved New York and, he didn’t want to sound cocky but, the world. He had faced villains, of all sorts, so despicable, it’s a wonder he’s alive at all. But he did it.

But you…. He’s never felt like this before. So nervous, anxious, and scared to mess something up when all he wants is to fix it. In the superhero world, stunned silence isn’t an option. One moment of hesitation and everything could go to shit. But now, he’s not sure what the best course of action is. He’s not sure if speaking to you will make things worse, or better. If saying anything at all will give him more of a fighting chance. Was there even any chance of a fighting chance?

He didn’t miss how you hadn’t said a word and all he could think was ‘Please talk! Say something! Give me a hint for what I’m supposed to say!”

He was just stuck in place, staring directly at your face taking in your expression. You wouldn’t meet his eyes and there was no stopping the pang of guilt in his gut. You looked skittish, and it should’ve been no surprise to him when you turned to take off but it still took him a second to shake off that moment.

Just a second though, because soon he was running right after you. He wasn’t going to let you off so easy this time.

He’d called for you to stop, reaching his hand for your shoulder in hopes of getting you to listen. The way you jerk back as if his touch might burn you snaps something in him.

And there they are, your first words to him (Peter him) since the breakup:

“We’re not doing this.”

And you’re already moving away again, already slipping away from him again while his hand hangs in the air. He almost touched you. Maybe it was better that he didn’t because he thought he might’ve never let go.

He’s not sure if you meant what you told him as Spider-Man. Maybe it was just another one of your jokes. But he’s not ready to give up hope yet. He’ll give you time if that's what you need, he’s just scared of who else might try to make their move during that time.

For now, he’s just gonna work on getting his shit together.

And that starts with going to class, and getting his work turned in.

There’s a buzz in the air when you enter the auditorium the next day, that can only be described as highly-caffeinated-extremely-enthusiastic-high-school-theater-kids. You were all feeling the anticipation of your work these past few weeks being shared with all your friends and family.

You were walking around checking up on the last-minute touchups. You walked up on stage and stopped in your tracks. “Oh my god,” your hand flies up to your mouth, “you guys! This is beautiful!”

The set group (Noah, Lacy, and Jack) all grinned up at you. They all had some form of paint on them. Lacy adorned a pair of overalls that consisted of black and navy blue splatters going up and down the front of her. Jack’s T-shirt looked as if it were being used as a rag for his hands, so there were so many colors intertwining with each other, that you couldn’t pick out a single one. Noah was the messiest of the group, this specific set being mostly his responsibility. The knees of his jeans were stained black, but it didn’t end there. He looked like a tornado of night, with all sorts of shades clinging to any visible part of him. Blues, blacks, indigos, you name it. And they were all gleaming with pride.

“Hey Y/N,” Noah beamed at you. “We just finished the last backdrop.”

Behind them all was the backdrop which would be used for the last scene of the play. Lexi and Brad (or Stephanie and Gabriel, per the script) would stand in front of it and finally declare their love for one another, commencing their forever after with a passionate kiss.

You knew it was supposed to be a night sky, but what you hadn’t known was how well of a job they would do.

You let out a breathless laugh. “I can see that. It's stunning you guys, truly.” Although Midtown High was a school that specialized in the education of science and technology, the students here were extremely in touch with their creative sides as well. And that fact had never been more obvious to you than in that moment.

“There's still one more finishing touch, and then it’ll be perfect.” Lacy grinned at you before running backstage.

You were staring at where she'd just been, a furrow in your brows, when Jack nudged you lightly, “Oh, this is what she’s been waiting for since we started.”

Lacy came back, almost tripping over herself with how fast she was running. She held up a jar that sparkled in the auditorium lights as she moved it around, “Glitter!”

You grinned and clapped your hands together, “Oh I’m so happy I get to be here for this.”

Noah and Jack stood to the side while you and Lacy approached the large backdrop from the side. She made quick work of unscrewing the top and setting it beside her. She leaned over slightly and tilted the jar a tad before sprinkling it over the spacious work of art.

If sprinkling glitter were a profession, Lacy would be a pro.

You quickly figured out why she was so excited about this step, and it wasn’t just the glitter. Adding the glitter gave the scene more life. It made it look as if it were real, and you were looking at a sky bursting with sparkling stars.

After getting the area in front of her, she turns to you, holding out the jar. “Here! Give it a go.”

You stared a her a bit before quickly shaking your head, “Lace, I never thought someone could be good at sprinkling glitter, yet here I am. You were like a freaking fairy! I’d totally ruin it, and I can’t do that to you guys.”

You held your hands up and started backing away slowly. You could hear Jack and Noah laughing behind you.

Lacy just rolled her eyes with a smile stuck on her face. “Nonsense, Y/N, you’re a pro at everything you do,” she lowered her voice a little, “like that scavenger hunt?”

You gave her a look before turning around to make sure Mrs. Lightbody was nowhere around. “None of that,” you hiss, “that was a one-time thing! And it was a group effort!”

“Oh come on,” Noah this time. “We all know you had the hardest list of the bunch. Seriously Y/N, if Brad hadn’t shown me the list, I never would’ve believed that you did all that.”

Jack nodded. “Honestly, me and Lace wrote that as a little joke, like, ‘Hey, what if we were really wild with this? What would we do?’ And you came and proved us all wrong.”

Lacy hummed her agreement, “What they said, exactly. And this is just a bit of glitter. No big deal!” She grabbed your arm and pulled you towards her.

You laughed lightly, feeling yourself grow a little flustered under their praises. You grabbed the jar of glitter from Lacy and went to work, being extra careful so you don’t ruin all their hard work.

“This is good glitter,” you say softly, completely concentrated on the task at hand.

“Oh my gosh! I know right!” Lacy practically squeals her response. You laughed but could hear Noah groaning behind you. You finish with the glitter, screwing it shut before turning back to face him.

“There’s no such thing as ‘good glitter’,” He did air quotes on that last part, sounding extremely frustrated and something told you this wasn’t the first time they had this conversation.

“Yes, there is! She just said so!” Lacy was standing her ground. Suddenly, she turned towards you, “Y’know who can settle this? Lexi. Go find her Y/N, take the glitter, and ask her what she thinks. She’s gonna agree with me, I can already feel it.”

You held in a laugh. “Sure thing Lace.” You turn to go find your other friend and as you're walking away you can still hear them arguing, Noah not convinced that glitter could be good or bad. It’s just glitter.

You walked around the auditorium looking for Lexi and failing to find her. You started asking around, feeling sure that someone had to have seen her. You knew she was here, having seen her enter at the start of rehearsals. Walking around the front of the auditorium, peering down aisles, you were about to go check backstage when you heard a Brad Davis.

Now you’re not sure why, you didn’t do anything wrong after all, but a panic settled in you. Next thing you knew, you jumped into one of the aisles and crouched down.

He was walking up the main row between the chairs, script in hand, talking to someone beside him who you couldn’t see. They were moving closer to you. Shit.

In a rush, you start crawling, crawling, down to the opposite side of the aisle they were approaching. You were almost out, but you accidentally pulled down one of the chairs that are built to automatically flip up. Not a loud noise, but loud enough. You wince but don’t stop until you're sitting against the side of the row of chairs, out of their sight.

You could hear the chatter stop and the footsteps slow. You sucked in your breath and folded in on yourself even more. You were already coming up with a cover for yourself.

‘Oh, hey Brad. Yeah, I’m on the floor. Not avoiding you or anything, just….decided to see what the view of the stage would be like from here. Not good!’

It sucked and you really hoped you wouldn’t have to use it.

It seemed as though your luck for the day hadn’t expired because you heard them mumble amongst themselves and move on. After a few moments, You let out a sigh of relief and started crawling down towards the stage. You weren’t risking getting seen just yet.

You were starting to like Brad, you really were! But after recent events you had started to think the interest he’d taken in you wasn’t the same as the platonic one you’d taken in him. And you were bad at confrontation or being put on the spot. Obviously.

Plus you figured he’d want to talk about that weird moment with Peter in the hall the day before and you’d rather pretend that didn’t happen at all. Even you didn��t know what that was.

Moving slowly, you kept your head down, trying to reach the stage so you could just bolt behind the curtains. Suddenly, a pair of pointed-toe black flats came into your view. You paused and slowly looked up. In front of you stood Ms. Lightbody.

“Hi.” You said meekly. She looked down at you with a furrow in her brows, “Hello Miss Y/L/N. May I ask what you’re doing?”

You fumbled for a moment but finally found yourself. Clearing your throat, you stood up and dusted yourself off. “I dropped an earring.”

Way better than that other bullshit you were thinking of.

She stared at both your ears, which adorned a pair of earrings you never took off. “Oh?”

“I’ve already put it back in,” you explained to her lamely. She gazed somewhere behind you and you followed her stare. Brad and his friend were still walking up and down the main row, lost in some conversation. You gulped, if she had seen you earlier, it would’ve been fairly obvious to her the real reason behind your little floor exploration. And that was just embarrassing.

She hummed in response, “I see.” Her voice carried some tone of understanding and you felt yourself run hot with embarrassment under her gaze.

“Did you need something, Miss?” You rushed out quickly, hoping to change the subject.

“Yes,” she focused her gaze on you now, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say there was a sprinkle of amusement in her eyes.

Ms. Lightbody was a newer addition to Midtown’s staff. She came in to replace the school’s previous drama teacher, and she also subbed at times. Most of the student body disliked her, thinking her short-tempered and strict but you knew that was far from the truth. It seemed this play helped you better understand your peers and superiors alike. She was an amazing teacher and, contrary to popular belief, she wasn’t an impatient maniac who didn’t have the skill set to teach. She was always willing to help someone who didn’t understand, but what she didn’t tolerate was purposeful incompetence.

“Lexi is in one of the rooms backstage, I need you to go find her and tell her there’s one more scene we need to rehearse.” She paused and looked behind you again. “And I suggest you get to that soon because I think your friend, Mr. Davis, has spotted you.”

You blanched, unsure whether to dwell on the fact that she knew, or that Brad had spotted you. You turn slightly only to see Brad already looking towards you.

You quickly snapped your head towards the lady in front of you again. “On it!” You told her, not waiting for a response before shooting up the stage and behind the curtain.

You could’ve sworn you heard her laugh.

You were backstage looking for Lexi. It wasn’t like her to stay tucked away like this, since rehearsals had started she was always ready for anything, talking things over with the other cast members, ready for criticism but rarely needing it. There was probably no one on the cast who was as excited as her.

“Lex, you here?” You whispered softly. Behind the stage was empty and dark. You walked around carefully, trying not to accidentally trip on anything of the string or left-out equipment. All of this was going to need to be changed before tomorrow evening.

Suddenly, so quiet you could barely hear it, was a shuffling noise. You looked around for some switch, finding it on the wall to your left. You switched it on and the action earned you a hiss from someone a little further in the room.

You turned quickly, finding Lexi sitting at one of the small makeup desks, hands coming up to cover her face as if she were some vampire.

That worried you.

You rushed to her, placing a soft hand on her shoulder. “Lex,” your tone was quiet so as not to disturb her anymore. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

She looked up at you, hair disheveled, face a little pale, and eyes tired. “No, no I’m fine.” She shook her head but you weren’t convinced.

You moved to sit at the desk next to her. “Okay,” you said softly, “then why are you sitting back here?”

She sighed a little. “I’ve just had a small headache since lunch. But I’ll be okay really.

Your frown only deepens. “Did you eat today? Drink water?”

She nodded then rubbed her temples a little, shutting her eyes as she did so. “It’s probably my fault, I didn’t sleep well last night and I’m just tired.”

Her eyes snapped open and she looked more alert now. She clasped her hands together and smiled at you. “So wake me up Y/N/N. Tell me something interesting.”

Skeptically, you eyed her up and down. “Are you sure that's all? Should I take you to see the nurse?”

She shook her head again, her hair flying around her face as she did so. “No. I’m actually feeling better already, talking to you. I think the smell of Noah’s Axe Body Spray was just really setting everything off.” She gestured her hands around herself.

You laughed, glad to see her acting like herself again. “But seriously,” she said, putting a hand on your knee. “Talk to me, it’s waking me up. How was your day?”

You let out a breath and leaned back in the chair, looking up to the ceiling. “Brad asked me out.”

She gasped so loud, you started up in your seat. “Shut up. Shut up!”

Smiling, you shook your head. “Well not yet. But I know it’s coming, you know what I mean? He keeps trying to get me alone, and he gets really close and starts staring into my eyes and everything. But he keeps getting interrupted.”

She gasped again, softer this time, and held her hand to her chest. “Oh my god. That’s so cute! Are you gonna say yes?”

You stilled for a moment. Were you going to say yes? You’d figured out what was most likely coming your way, but you hadn’t really thought of how to handle it. You couldn’t crawl across floors to avoid him forever. That would make graduation very awkward.

And at the same time, you didn’t want to reject him. Brad was sweet, maybe not the type of person you usually went for, but he had his own things. Maybe you needed something new, something different.

But something in your gut was telling you maybe you shouldn’t go out with someone who made you panic-crawl on the floor just to avoid having a conversation with them.

Not to mention, you just weren’t interested in him like that. At all.

Lexi was going on about something or other, seemingly fine at the moment. “I totally knew he was into you. I mean, that whole picking you up in the library thing?” She shook her head. “Not just a platonic thing.”

You laughed loudly and stood up. You held out a hand for her to take. “Come on Lex, everyone’s looking for their star.”

She took your hand and stood. “I bet they are, I’ll have to apologize for hogging you from them.”

You laughed again and started pushing her towards the front stage. “Oh! I almost forgot to tell you! We’re playing with glitter!”

The rest of the day went by smoothly. You, Lexi, and Lacy applied the finishing touches to the backdrop. As Lacy had guessed, Lexi agreed with her. Lacy went on about all the qualities the perfect glitter should consist of; ‘catches the light, soft, and dustable.’

You were sure that last one wasn’t even a word but Noah gave in eventually and let the girls have their win. But that wasn’t enough for the three of you. Not wanting to put the glitter away just yet, you started sprinkling it on each other.

Word spread across the auditorium like wildfire, and soon, a line started forming on the stage to get glitter sprinkled on you, boys and girls alike. Ms. Lightbody shut that down quick.

You stuck to avoiding Brad for the rest of the day. It wasn’t hard, you were both busy, him being one of the leads and you helping with a little bit of everything and making sure everyone stayed in order (with the exception of the glitter fiasco).

At the end, Ms. Lightbody had gathered you all around to talk about how tomorrow was going to go. She went over the basics, what time the show was going to start, and what time you all had to be there. It was things you all already knew but it was good to go over. In the end, you thought she looked a little sad, and apparently, you weren’t the only one because someone else pointed it out. That made everyone jump and you all pulled her into a group hug. This little group had become like a crazy family and you were forever grateful you had a chance to be part of it.

You left quickly after that, wanting to get out before Brad offered to walk you home or something. You said bye to your friends, taking extra time with Lexi. She had been more reserved after you two talked, not as tired as you’d found her backstage, but still not quite herself. You told her to get lots of sleep tonight. She was needed tomorrow

Now, you were sitting on the rooftop ledge, kicking your feet as Spider-Man sat next to you.

“Are you excited?” He asked.

You nodded, smiling. “Very. We’ve all been working really hard for this. And you should see how great a job everyone has done. I can’t wait to see it all put together finally.”

“I’m sure you’ve done a great job,” he nods. “I really wish I could be there. You’re gonna need to take some videos for me. Show me afterward.”

You grinned wide. “Seriously? You’d wanna see?”

“Heck yea I wanna see,” he said, voice serious.

“Okay.” You nodded. “I’ll take plenty of videos, don’t worry.”

“Thank you.” He said, raising a hand a ruffling your hair. You laughed and slapped his hand away. He stared at you a little before asking, “What’s in your hair?

You grinned wide. “Glitter.”

He shook his head, laughing. “I don’t even wanna know.” You giggled beside him.

“Are your friends going to be there?” He asked.

“Um,” you say, still smiling. “Yeah, I think so. They said they will, and I think it’ll be fun.” MJ had told you she was definitely going to be there, she couldn’t wait to make fun of the kids in the play, she’d already bought her ticket. Ned said he wanted to see it as well, and Peter…well, after recent events you couldn’t think of any reason he’d be there. He probably wouldn’t be able to find the time in his busy schedule, even if you two were still together. So it was better like this.

“What about your parents? Are they gonna try to make it?”

A beat passed before you replied. “No,” you shook your head. “I don’t think they’re gonna be there.”

He was quiet for a moment, not sure what to say. He almost regretted asking.

“But it’s okay,” you said, your voice so soft, it took everything in him not to reach over and pull you into his arms. “I wasn’t expecting them to anyway. I have my friends, that’s enough.” You cleared your throat and wrapped your arms around yourself.

He watched you for a bit and it hit him then, just how strong you were. How much you had on your plate at the moment. How little you let it show.

Your parents were basically roommates to you, you barely saw them, they were just there. The play you were managing? While everyone else had one job, one task they needed to focus on and get done, you were involved in everything. He remembered you mentioned to him a few weeks ago something about your phone blowing up since planning started. He never thought much of it then.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized you were always doing this. When it wasn’t the play it was something with your family, or tutoring other kids at school. And on top of all of that, you were always available for your friends whenever they needed you, and your grades never slipped. Your essays and tests were used by your teachers as examples. He always knew, but not really. It was painfully obvious right now. And it was even more obvious to him that he never helped. He should’ve helped make things easier for you, because he loves you, because he cares for you. But all he did was add to your plate. The thought made him feel sick.

“I’m so sorry,” Even through his voice-changer you could hear the sincerity, the despair in his voice. Your brows furrowed.

“You don’t need to apologize, it’s not that big of a deal. I swear,” you told him sincerely.

He nodded but the movement almost looked forced. “How have you been?”

You paused. “Good,” you nodded, as if confirming your own statement. “Busy, but good.”

“Have you taken a moment to breathe recently? Just relax yourself for a few seconds?”

You were taken aback by his question. No one had ever asked you that. “I- I don’t think so,” you replied quietly.

“Alright, that’s okay, we can do that together. Here,” he held out both his hands, palms up. “put your hands in mine.”

You followed his lead and placed your hands in his. The material of his suit felt smooth, but thicker than it looked, and you were surprised to see how well your hands fit together.

“Close your eyes.” He said, and you saw the whites of his mask flicker shut. You followed his lead.

“Great. Now big breath, through your mouth.” You sucked in a handful of air, the sound ringing out like a quick gasp.

His hands gave yours a gentle squeeze. “No,” he said, voice soft. You felt your face heat up and you tried again, this time slowly letting the air enter and fill your lungs.

“Now out through the nose.”

You let the air leave you, not even realizing how tense you were until you felt yourself relax. Your eyes fluttered open and you found him already staring at you. His thumbs had started gently caressing your hands and you found you didn’t mind at all.

“A few more times.” He told you, and you nodded at him. You closed your eyes again and repeated your actions from before, more sure of yourself this time.

When you had finished, you opened your eyes again. His eyes were still open and you thought his mask shifted into something like a grin.

“Better?” He asked you, and you smiled, nodding your head. It was crazy to you to think about how over these past few days, that very mask had turned into a comforting sight for you. You really thought of New York’s Spider-Man as a friend. And you hoped he felt the same.

You nodded again, unable to take your eyes off of him. You weren’t even aware you were still holding hands until he removed his from yours. You almost protested, your hands suddenly feeling colder than they ever have.

But then he brought his hands up to cup each side of your face.

Oh.

You were sure you were melting. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt like this, and you couldn’t even see his face! You wished he’d just rip it off, you wouldn’t care who was underneath.

He brought his face closer and leaned his forehead against yours. Your eyes fluttered shut. You stayed that way for a minute, both of you just enjoying the moment before you decided to speak.

“Take it off.” You whispered.

“What?” He asked, his voice matching your volume. You had opened your eyes and you were looking at him now. You could clearly see the eyes of his mask were still closed and you fought off a smile.

You brought up your hand to his face and traced his jawline. You could feel his jaw flex underneath your fingers and you could’ve sworn you heard him gulp.

“Take it off.” You repeated, your thumbs now caressing his cheekbones.

His eyes flew open and he leaned back. “No,” he shook his head, moving even further from where you two were seated next to each other.

Your brows shot up at his sudden change of demeanor. You wished you hadn’t said anything. “Ok,” you said, voice quiet. “You don’t have to. I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I was just- ugh I’m so sorry.”

“No!” He repeated. “Don’t apologize I- you did nothing wrong.”

But the way he was acting was making you feel otherwise.

“I have to go. Good luck tomorrow.” He said, stood up, flung out his wrist, and started swinging through the buildings faster than you could blink.

Fuck.

You were a wreck.

Everyone was running all over the place, orders being shouted across the entire backstage. Some people seemed to have invited their friends to hang out backstage (which was not allowed). Every corner was packed. And you were in the middle of it all.

“Y/N!” Ms. Lightbody called for you from across the swarm of bodies. You made your way through everyone, not stopping until you were standing in from of her. She placed a hand on your shoulder and steered you until you were both standing in a corner, as far away from the others as you could get.

“Miss Walker isn’t here, and it’s starting to become a problem.” She told you, voice serious.

You blanched. “Lexi isn’t here yet?!”

She shushed you. “I don’t want to start a commotion. Things are barely going smoothly as is, and this will not make it better. Everyone will start worrying if they find out their lead hasn’t arrived, and we cannot have that.”

You nodded at her, mind racing. “What do we do?”

She sighed, “For now? Wait and hope for the best, there’s still a bit more time.”

You nodded again and she took a second to look around the room. “What is all this? Half these kids have no business here!” She turned towards you again. “I'm going to try to reach Miss Walker’s mother, deal with all these children Y/N, please. I want them gone by the time I get back.”

She turned to leave before she remembered something that had her turning right back, “You have Miss Walker’s contact information, correct?” You nodded at her again. “Great. Try to get ahold of her, will you? The sooner we figure this out the better.”

“Sure thing Ms. Lightbody.” You told her, waving her off, your voice sounding a hundred times more confident than you felt.

You watched her walk out the back door to make her phone call, and you paused for a moment, unsure what to do first. You turned and pulled out your phone. Heading for the door Ms. Lightbody just walked out of, you pulled up your message thread with Lexi.

girl WRU !!!

you were needed like 30 mins ago !!!!

get here-

You bumped into someone, your phone flying out of your hand before you could send that last one. You would’ve been sent flying backward if the person hadn’t gripped your waist tight to keep you steady.

“Woah, careful.”

You’d know that voice anywhere. Peter.

“Parker,” you said, backing away quickly. “What are you doing here?” And you don’t mean for it to come out as harsh as it did but…there’s just a lot on your plate right now.

And it seems he can tell. He bent over to grab your phone, placing it back in your hands. “The lady at the office saw me walking by and asked me to drop these off.” He waved a big bag you hadn’t noticed in his other hand.

You reached for it, saying, “Oh my god, perfect.” At the same time, he asked, “Are you okay?”

You completely ignored him, taking the bag from his hands. Turning around, you caught Jack walking by at just the right moment. “Jack! Here,” you called him over, “Those supplies you guys were asking for.”

“Sweet, thanks Y/N/N!” He said, leaning in to give you a quick hug. You smile but then quickly shove him away, “Thank J, but you really need to go finish. Like, right now.”

He straightened his posture and saluted you. “Ma’am yes ma’am!” He said, then he turned to Peter, who had been watching the whole exchange, “Sup Parker.” He sent a little head nod towards him, as he started walking away.

Peter returned it, brows slightly furrowed as he looked between the two of you, “Hey man.”

You started walking around, trying to count up how many people there were who weren’t a part of the cast or crew.

One, two, three-

You felt a hand placed on your shoulder and you turned quickly, only to see Peter still hasn’t left.

You looked at him in disbelief. The nerve of this guy. There’s no way he seriously thinks you’re going to talk about the two of you right now, is there?

“How are you?” He asks again and you’ve never found someone dumber than you did right now.

“Hello?! Things aren’t going too hot in case you can’t tell, and you aren’t exactly helping right now!”

He nodded, “Okay. What can I do to help?”

You scoffed. “I don’t know, leave. It’s so crowded in here and I have to get all these extra people out. Shit,” you smacked your forehead. “I forgot I have to find Lexi. Fuck! And I have to-.”

“Y/N!” Someone shouted your name for the umpteenth time that night. You turned and met Vanessa, one of the people in charge of makeup.

“We’re out of setting powder.”

“What?!”

She winces. “I know, I’m so sorry. We thought we had enough but then some of the boys were playing and knocked over-,”

You waved her off, not wanting to hear the rest of it. “Okay, okay. Do none of the other girls have any extra? Is no one willing to lend you some?”

She shook her head. “No! I already asked. I don’t know what to do.”

“I’ll get you some.” Peter stepped in. “Just send me a picture of what it looks like and I’ll be back in ten minutes tops.”

Vanessa gasped, “Dude. You’re a lifesaver. Y/N,” she met your eyes, “your boyfriend is a lifesaver!”

“Oh he’s not-,” you started, but she was already walking away. You turned towards Peter, the disbelief on your face getting stronger every time you looked at him today.

You started shaking your head, “What on earth are you doing Parker?”

“Helping you.” He said as if it were the easiest thing on earth. He wondered if you were making a conscious effort not to say his first name.

Your head wouldn’t stop shaking left and right. “What? What do you- I don’t-,”

He cut you off, “And I’m gonna get rid of all the people who don’t belong here too.” He looked around the room before looking down at you. “You, just…take care of yourself Y/N. Don’t stress too much, it’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure you even have the time?”

Shit.

His face fell and you immediately felt guilt seep into your bones.

“Peter I’m so-,”

He cut you off again, his voice quieter this time. “No, that was..that was fair. But I mean it.” He raised his voice, sounding more sure now. “I’m going to help you out.”

He stepped away from you suddenly, leaving you standing with your mouth agape. He walked to the end of the room, stopping right before the door. “Alright, everyone! Listen up,” He clapped his hands together, his voice booming around the room. Everyone quieted down to hear him.

“Unless you had some part in putting all this together, I’m going to need you to follow me out right now. Let everyone do their thing, we don’t need to bother them any more than we already have.”

Everyone was still for a second.

“And,” he continued, “Ms. Lightbody gave me permission to start handing out detentions.”

That got everyone moving. Your brows furrowed as a sea of students started moving through the room and out the door. Ms. Lightbody did no such thing.

Peter stood to the side, holding the door open. It had come down to the last few people and Peter held back a boy. “You,” he told him, “I’m gonna need you to stay outside this door and make sure no one enters unless they’re part of the cast or crew. We can’t have that happening again.”

“Oh shit. Like a bouncer?” The kid asked eagerly.

Peter stared for a bit before he nodded. “Yeah man, exactly. And listen,” he pointed at you, “if you’re not sure, you ask her, alright?”

The boy turned towards you and you offered him a smile. “Damn! She’s smokin’!” He exclaimed. If you weren’t so busy, you might’ve blushed.

Peter narrowed his eyes, and it seemed like he was considering something before he quickly shook his head. He grabbed the boy by the shoulder and placed him on the outside of the door.

“Vanessa!” He shouted. “Send me a picture of the powder, I’m going right now.”

“Already sent Pete, thanks!” She shouted back, giving him a thumbs up from where she was standing by the makeup chairs.

Pete? Why would she call him Pete? She doesn’t know him like that. I used to call him Pete-

You stopped your train of thought. You could not afford to think like that right now.

“Perfect.” He said, he made to move away but his eyes met yours and he froze. “I’m gonna…” he trailed off, feet stuck to the ground as his thumb pointed to the door.

“Of course,” you nodded quickly. “And Peter,” you stop him before he turns to go, “thank you. So much.” You hoped your voice carried the sincerity you felt.

He smiled at you softly, “Anything for you Y/N/N.”

This time, you did blush. You turned away before he could see you and placed a palm on your forehead.

“Wow,” a voice said from beside you. Brad. “Didn’t know Parker had that in him.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, “me either.”

“Hey, where’s Lexi?” Someone in the room asked. You felt your heart drop. Lexi. You’d completely forgotten about her after that whole thing with Peter.

You had a show that needed to start in less than an hour and your star still hadn’t shown up.

You pulled out your phone again, pulling up her contact. You were about to hit the ‘call’ button but right then, Ms. Lightbody walked in.

She was holding her phone to her ear, and she was staring straight at you, her face full of dread.

“Lexi can’t make it. She’s got some type of flu, she can’t get out of bed. I am on the phone with her mother right now.”

Your jaw dropped. Chatter broke out everywhere. The kids were panicking, wondering what to do now, now that the lead of the whole show wasn’t going to be here.

Fuck. You should’ve known, yesterday when you saw her. But you were stupid enough to believe it was just lack of sleep. You should’ve figured it out faster so you could’ve planned something. Stupid, stupid, stupid-

“Miss Y/L/N.” You looked up when you heard your name. “She’s asking to speak to you.” Ms. Lightbody holds her phone out for you to take.

Your eyes widen, “Me?”

She nodded, hand still outstretched toward you. You swallowed and walked your way toward her. You reached for the phone and held it to your ear. The chatter around the room stopped, everyone straining to hear what was going to happen next.

“Hello?”

“It wasn’t the Axe Body Spray.”

You barked out a laugh at the unexpected joke. “Lex! Be serious, what happened.”

“I got sick when I got home from rehearsal yesterday, I’ve been asleep since.” It was then that you heard how different her voice sounded. Nasally and broken, like she’d swallowed a lawn mower.

“My mom’s only woken me up about twice to drink some medicine,” she continued, breaking into a fit of coughing at the end of her sentence. Yeah, maybe it was a good thing she didn’t come.

“Lex,” you repeated, sounding more desperate this time, “what’re we gonna do?”

“Wait,” someone in the room with you starts, “what about her understudy?”

“There is no understudy, dumbass!” Someone quipped right back.

“You,” Lexi said.

“Huh?” You replied.

“You, Y/N.” She repeated. “You need to do it. You need to play Stephanie. No one else could do it. You know all the lines. You know the whole play.”

You paled. “Be so fucking for real with me right now Lexi Walker.”

“I am.” She said seriously. Or, as seriously as she could sound when she had to cough after every other word she spoke.

People were leaning in now, trying to hear what was going on between the two of you. You ignored them, “Lex, there’s no way. You know I can’t do that.”

“Oh my god!” Someone shouted. Lacy. “Y/N! Y/N can do it!”

You shook your head quickly. “No! I can’t!” You replied to her, the phone still pressed to your ear.

“You have to, Y/N, please, for me. You know how much this means to me. You’re the only person I trust,” Lexi begged

There are shouts from your cast-mates now, encouraging you to take the role when that was the last thing you wanted to do.

“Lex, babe,” you tried to reason, “I didn’t rehearse as much as you did! I don’t know it like you.”

“No,” she agreed, “you know it better. All that time you spent, going over every detail of the set, the costumes, the script. It was for this. Now please, you know you can do it.”

You paused. You didn’t want to, but it was really looking like you had no choice. You looked around at everyone in the room, they all worked so hard, hell, you worked so hard to make this happen. You weren’t gonna let it all be for nothing.

You rubbed your temple with one hand, the other holding the phone up to your ear. “Do you guys really think I can do it?” You looked around at everyone, hoping they’d answer honestly.

A chorus of agreement rang out from the group but Ms. Lightbody stepped in. “Miss Y/L/N,” she started, “I know none of this has been ideal. And I know we’re asking a lot. You didn’t come in today expecting to step onto that stage, but right now, that’s what we need. And I think we would all appreciate your help in these unexpected circumstances.”

You stared at her for a moment. You always wondered why she spoke so formally all the time, maybe one day you’ll ask her.

“Sure, I’m down.” You shrugged and everyone started cheering.

“Oh good,” Lexi sighed, “cause I need to go throw up right now, so bye. Tell everyone to take lots of photos and videos for me please!”

You winced. “We will Lex, you just work on feeling better. Now go, I love you.”

“Love you too babe.” She replied before hanging up quickly.

“Alright,” Ms. Lightbody started pushing you to the makeup chairs. “Have a seat Y/N. Girls,” she turned toward the makeup crew. “Get started on her, afterward, take her to hair and then, get her into her costume.”

They all chorused an agreement and started fussing over you. You were one of the last people to get ready, everyone one else having already had their turn.

With so many people working on you, your makeup was done in no time. Soon, only Vanessa was left and she was powdering your face.

“Peter came back?” You asked her once you realized what she was holding in her hands.

She nodded. “Yeah, a few minutes ago, but he didn’t come in, left the stuff with the dude outside the door who’s calling himself our ‘bouncer’.”

You nodded, “Oh okay.”

“You’ve got a great boyfriend Y/N, seriously. Not many guys I know would help out like that, no matter…”

You zoned out while she was doing the finishing touches on your face. Not many guys you know either, Peter included. Or at least, the Peter you’d come to find yourself in a relationship with. The old Peter, however, would’ve done anything for you, and you for him. You got a glimpse of him earlier tonight and you wondered what it was that triggered that.

The few moments of silence gave you time to go over everything that's been happening recently in your head. You’ve had a hectic past few weeks, but especially this last week. With the last few rehearsals, everything with Peter, everything with Spider-Man. Oh…

And then there was him…

There was a moment yesterday. You tried to gaslight yourself into thinking you imagined it but you didn’t. It was real. Until you ruined it.

You’d gone to bed late last night, staying on the roof even after he’d left in case he decided to come back so you could apologize again. You’d felt downright terrible all night. And this morning.

It was none of your business to ask him to take off his mask. Who the hell did you think you were? There might’ve been something before but there was no way…not after the way he reacted last night. You’d pissed him off. And now you’d lost another friend.

“There you go!” Vanessa said, pulling back from your face and grinning. She held up a mirror for you to take a look. “What do you think? I think it matches Stephanie’s description pretty well, no?”

You gasped, “Oh my god Vanessa, this is exactly how I pictured her! When all this is over you have to teach me how to do my eyeliner like this.”

“Deal.” She grinned.

Suddenly, Ms. Lightbody walked by. “Who is that child standing outside the door?” She asked. Vanessa shot you a look and you subtly shook your head at her, and at anyone who turned towards you.

No one answered her. “He asked me for my ID?!” You choked back a laugh. “He doesn’t even go here!” She continued. Everyone successfully avoided her, playing busy with whatever task they had in front of them. Vanessa kept brushing over your face with a clean brush while you both fought back smiles.

“Y/N!” Ms. Lightbody called. You shot out of your chair and approached her. “Yes ma’am?”

“Is your makeup all done?” You nodded while she examined your face. “Very well, head over to hair, we need everyone ready soon! Curtain opens in 15!”

That last one was directed at everybody and you could feel the shift in the atmosphere. If everyone wasn’t working before, they were now.

You headed over to hair and let one of the people there pin it up for you. After that, you were held into your costume, your friends pulling on layer after layer before finally, you were completely ready.

You looked in the mirror. “I look I came out a Jane Austen novel,” you murmured.

Lacy, who stood beside you, laughed. “And it suits you! You look beautiful Y/N, stunningly classic. Very vintage.” She nodded in approval.

You turned towards her and smiled, “Thank you, Lace.” You sucked in a breath and ran your hand down the hem of your costume. “I’m nervous,” you admitted shyly.

“Don’t be,” she replied, voice soft. “Hey, if you could pull off that scavenger hunt, this should be a piece of cake.” She smirked wickedly at you.

You laughed, “Actually, you’re right.”

“I always am.” she shrugged

“SHOWTIME EVERYONE, GET IN YOUR PLACES!” Ms. Lightbody’s voice boomed across the whole backstage.

You both looked at each other. “Break a leg.” She grinned at you.

You grinned right back. You could handle this.

The anxiety from before had mostly worn off. Now, all you felt were nervous jitters and even a little excitement. Everyone was right, you knew everything about this play like the back of your hand, and you were looking forward to being out there with people you’d come to think of as friends.

You got into place, standing beside Brad and some of your other cast-mates who were going to be in this first scene with you.

“Hey,” he said, voice low and he looked down at you with a large smile on his face.

“Hi,” you replied, smiling right back.

“Don’t think I got the chance to tell you, but I’m really happy you’re doing this.”

“Yeah, I think I am too.”

“Curtain warmers on?” Ms. Lightbody spoke into a little headset. “Perfect. And…action!”

The lights blinded you for a second, once the curtain opened, and you had to stop yourself from turning your face away. In the beat you had before the scene came to life, you chanced a glance at the crowd. You really wished you hadn’t.

Peter Parker was sitting front row.

As quickly as you looked, you averted your gaze, but not before you noticed a few things. Beside him sat Ned, and in the row behind them, right behind Ned’s chair, sat MJ. And all three of them had their mouths hanging open. You had to fight down the heat threatening to rise to your face.

You never told them, hell, you didn’t even know. What were they gonna think? There was no way you could pull this off, you were all fooling yourselves, everyone was wrong and-

The first line was delivered, and it all came to life.

You were panting, running backstage. There was a small intermission at the moment, and you had just changed your outfit, from the simple gown you were adorning, to a bigger one. This one was more detailed and more eye-catching. It was supposed to be special because it was meant for the last scene of the whole play. The confession. Your kiss with Brad.

In the heat of the moment, you’d forgotten that specific detail. And as you sat down in the makeup chair again and one of the girls reapplied your lipstick, it was all you could think about.

You had to kiss Brad. And Peter would be sitting front row watching the whole thing.

That shouldn’t matter. First of all, it was all part of an act. Even if you were still with Peter, (which you weren’t. You had to keep reminding yourself of that little detail) it wouldn’t have mattered because you were doing it for the play. A play you weren’t even planning on being a part of, acting-wise, of course.

And then there was Spider-Man. If there was anyone you had to be kissing right now, you wished it was him. But there was no chance of that happening after last night. You wondered how he was feeling right now. He’d probably tell you to relax and stop stressing yourself out.

The thought made you take in a breath through your mouth, and slowly exhale from your nose. Just like he’d taught you. You felt yourself relax and, not for the first time that night, you decided that you needed to just get through tonight. And then you could worry about everything else.

The girl helping you with your makeup (you didn’t recognize her, but appreciated the help nonetheless) pulled away and smiled. “Alright, I think you’re good to go.”

“Thank you.” You smiled back and stood from your chair.

Ms. Lightbody approached you, placing a hand on your shoulder, “Come on, Miss Y/L/N. We need to get you in place.”

You nodded as she led you to the wing on the side of the stage, the curtains were still down, and by the time they opened again, you would be standing on the makeshift balcony (built by the props team), soon to be joined by Brad.

You went to approach the steps of the balcony when you felt her hold you back.

“I wanted to thank you again Y/N. I know we were all planning on Miss Walker doing all this but honestly…I couldn’t be prouder.”

Your heart warmed at her confession. You were upset you didn’t get to see Lexi shine like you’d been planning but you hoped you’d do her proud. You were glad to know you did Ms. Lightbody proud.

Without saying a word, you throw your arms around her in a warm embrace. She quickly reciprocated.

“I know we’ve all given you a hard time these past few weeks, and we don’t say it enough but we appreciate you. All of us.”

You both pulled back and her eyes were full of emotion. “Thank you Y/N, truly. Now go, I’ll get Mr. Davis ready.”

You nodded and stepped onto the set, positioning yourself at the end of the balcony. The balcony protruded from the side of the stage and covered a quarter of it. The backdrop you’d been appreciating just yesterday now stood to your side. You saw parts of it glitter from the light leaking in from backstage and you stifled a laugh.

Soon, the curtain opened. You’d grown used to the lights by now, welcoming their glow over your face. You gripped the railing and played broken-hearted, right now, Stephanie and Gabriel had just had a falling out during a ball and you had run out onto the balcony to get some air.

“Stephanie.” Brad approached behind you, and you turned around in fake shock.

The hardest part about acting, you’d come to find, was keeping a serious face and not laughing at yourself or your partner.

“Leave me be, Gabriel.” You waved a hand at him, turning away.

He caught your arm and held it gently between the two of you, standing so close, you were trapped between the railing and him.

“I can’t,” he said, his voice strangled. He looked down at you, face so pained, you almost believed him.

And so it began, the two of you going back and forth, delivering your lines, monologues about your feelings for each other, and how nothing in the world mattered except holding the other person, even for a moment.

Brad was finishing up, he was pacing back and forth in front of you while you listened intently.

“…And all this, because I love you.” He stopped in front of you now, hands coming up to cup your face. You did your best to get your expression to convey the love you (or Stephanie) were supposed to be feeling and then it happened.

Brad leaned, crashing his lips onto yours. You throw your arms around him, meeting him just as eagerly, and tried your best not to think about all the people currently watching suck each other’s faces off. One of his hands traveled down to your waist while the other moved from your cheek to hold the back of your head as he dipped you. Cheers broke out across the crowd.

You two stayed locked together like that for a few moments as the curtains closed, and then you broke apart. You were both panting, faces flushed, but you didn’t have time to think about what just happened. You and Brad had started moving off the balcony and onto the actual stage itself, the other members of the cast and crew joining you to take the final bow.

You all lined up across the stage, hands interlocked. With you and Brad in the middle, the curtains opened. You could still hear the applause before, but now, it got even louder and you couldn’t help the big smile that overtook your face. People were whistling, and clapping, someone was even throwing roses. You all took a bow together, and rose together, throwing your interlocked hands in the air.

Your body was buzzing with adrenaline. It was over, you’d actually done it. You could see Ms. Lightbody standing to the side, gleaming with pride at you all.

Soon, you all let go of each other and started embracing and exchanging congratulations. Brad turned toward you and pulled you into a tight hug, lifting you up a little. You laughed, holding onto him just as tight. The applause seemed never-ending, even as you all started walking off stage.

Now backstage, there was a buzz in the air. Not the same as a couple hours ago, which had been anxiety and nerves. This was triumph, pride, and adrenaline.

“Alright everyone,” Ms. Lightbody approached the center of the room once everyone had reconvened. “We’ve finally finished. And it was a hit.”

That caused everyone to start whooping and shouting. She rolled her eyes but even she couldn’t hide the smile creeping onto her face.

She held up a hand, “Okay. I just wanted to let you all know, how proud I am of each and every single one of you. You all worked so hard to make this happen and you worked through every problem that came your way.” She gave you a pointed look and the cheers started up again.

You hid your face in your hands as your friends pulled you into side hugs. “And I just wanted to say,” she continued. “We’ve all had a long night. Leave the cleaning for another day, everyone, go celebrate!”

She waved her hands and everyone started cheering again, moving as one to the back door to meet up with their friends and family.

As soon as you entered the hall you were bombarded by thanks and praises from your friends. You thanked them and threw their compliments right back at them, saying that this whole thing was a group effort.

You were flying from one group to another, everyone shouting your name. You were currently with Noah, Jack, and Lacy, telling them how good a job they did on the sets when you heard your name being shouted out again.

You turned around and saw MJ. Grinning, you excused yourself from the group and charged at her, pulling her into a hug without giving her any time to protest. To your surprise, she pulled you in just as tight.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She mumbled into your hair.

“Oh my god,” you started, “MJ it was insane. It all happened so fast, that Lexi got sick, so she didn’t show up! And I knew all the lines and stuff so I had to step in cause no one thought of casting an understudy and-,”

You pulled back from the hug but kept your hands on her shoulders. “Oh my god, what did you think? Was it bad? You can tell me -,”

“No! No way, holy shit Y/N, it was so good!”

“Seriously?” you smiled at her. “What happened to the whole ‘school productions are so cringe’ mindset?”

“That was before her best friend was starring in one,” said Ned. You hadn’t realized he was standing beside you two, with Peter beside him.

“Don’t worry, Y/N,” He continued. “The show was amazing. And you popping up on stage was a fun surprise.”

You grinned at him. “Thank you, Ned! I’m so happy you all made it.” You looked at Peter and offered him a small smile. He’d really helped you out today, and the fact that he’d made it to the actual show, and stuck it out till the end, meant a lot as well.

“Oh of course we made it!” Ned cut it, putting your attention back on him. “Petey here wouldn’t shut up about it. Went out and bought you flowers and everything.”

Your mouth fell open at his words, and for the first time, you noticed the large bouquet in Peter’s arms. You saw Peter nudge his friend hard and Ned winced before his face lit up in understanding. He grabbed MJ by the hand (which she quickly yanked back from him) and said, “Ok, well we’re gonna go talk to someone else. Congrats Y/N!” But you didn’t have a chance to reply before he was scurrying off, MJ with him.

You stared at them for a bit before turning all your attention to Peter. He cleared his throat before saying, “Hey.”

“Hi.”

“These are for you,” he said, holding out the bouquet of fresh flowers. You accepted them from him and brought them up to your nose, taking in a whiff of the sweet scent.

“My favorite.” You whispered, fingers lightly tracing the petals.

He nodded. “Yeah, um, I saw them and I thought you might like them. Especially with everything, you know,” he gestured vaguely, “thought you’d like some flowers.”

Your heart warmed at the thought that he saw your favorite flowers while he was out and thought of you. “Thank you, really. But you didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to.” He admitted.

You looked around, unable to meet his eyes. You focused on the floor, “Well thanks Parker, that was really sweet of you.”

He sighed, “Y/N please, I don’t want to-,”

But he got cut off by someone shouting your name. “Y/N!” Brad approaches you two. He looked Peter up and down before turning to you, “Hey, so the whole cast and stuff is going out for ice cream in our costumes, thought it’d be fun. Wanna join?”

Your face lit up, “Of course!”

He grinned right back at you. “Great. Come on, they’re leaving now.

You turned towards Peter, whose expression looked harder than before. “Listen, thank you so much for your help today, it means a lot. And thank you for the flowers.”

He nodded but his attention was on Brad. He finally turned toward you, his expression notably softening, “Like I said before, anything for you Y/N/N.”

You stayed there for a bit, caught in his eyes, unable to look away. It isn’t until Brad places a hand on your shoulder that you realize you’ve been staring.

“Ready to go?” He asked. You nodded and turned to leave. As you were walking out the door, you turned to look over your shoulder. You weren’t even sure why, but as you did, you caught Peter already staring. You sent him a little wave and he returned it before turning and walking away himself, shoving his hands in his pockets.

You walked to the ice cream shop with the others, still holding your flowers. And after everything that happened today, all you could think about was Peter.

You had a blast. The ice cream shop was packed with a bunch of high school kids in old-timesy clothing, laughing and joking with each other.

Brad had paid for your ice cream, despite your multiple refusals, claiming that they all owed you for stepping in and saving their asses.

“Consider it a thank you for that great kiss earlier.” He winked before walking off.

That had gotten you to shut up.

You all sat at tables surrounding each other, even pushing some together. You ate your ice cream in peace, joining the conversation every now and then to make a joke.

Someone had gotten Lexi on the phone and you all said hello. She congratulated you and you thanked her, letting her know you thought it should’ve been her on that stage instead. She made some joke about ‘if you wanted the whole front row to be covered in vomit, then I totally should’ve been there, you’re right.’ And you all laughed.

You had noticed Jack and Lacy moved to their own spot across the store. They were laughing together with Jack’s arm around her cocooning them from the world. It seemed they had finally gotten together and you couldn’t be more happy for them.

For some reason, the only thing on your mind was Spider-Man. It was silly but all you could think about was finding a way to make things right with him. It sucked that you had no way to reach him, but you’d decided to wait on the roof tonight, hoping he’d see you while swinging and stop by. Even if he left right after you apologized, you wouldn’t mind. You just wanted to see him.

You realized how late it was getting, and that it was usually now when you met up with him. So you'd asked Martha, (her mom helped with costumes, but she worked on the props) for a ride back since she had a car and lived in an apartment building near yours.

She quickly agreed, claiming she was ready to go too, but she had to walk back to the school to grab her car.

So you’d waited, but you couldn’t fight off your anxiety. Your leg kept bouncing up and down. You stayed like that for a while before Brad put a hand on your knee, stopping the action.

“You alright,” he asked, some sort of half-smile on his face. You looked at him then and thought, I can see why people like you Brad. He was kind, he was funny, he was fairly handsome, pretty popular too. And yet all you could think about was heading back home and waiting for someone you didn’t even really know.

You nodded, “Yeah, I’m just waiting for Martha to pull up.”

“I could walk you home if you wanted.” He offered.

You smiled but shook your head, “No, but thank you, I’m kind of in a rush.”

“Everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine.” You assured him. “Just…tired.”

“Yeah,” he nodded at you. “I get that. But hey.”

You looked up at him expectantly.

“Before you go there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

Your eyes shot open. “Oh?” You said, and it felt oddly reminiscent of that moment the two of you shared in the hall.

“Yeah. Would you wanna go out with me sometime?”

“Like a date?” You blurted out. Like an idiot, you thought. You knew it was coming and yet you’re acting like he just told you he was Taylor Swift.

He smiled at you and nodded, “Yeah, like a date.”

Oh Martha, where are you?

You were silent for a few seconds before you cleared your throat. There was no crawling away this time, no Peter running to interrupt. You had to face this.

“I really like you Brad but…I can’t out with you.”

His expression fell a little, but he didn’t look surprised. “It’s Parker, isn’t it?”

You were taken aback. “Huh?”

He nodded his head towards and flowers lying in your lap, “Parker. I saw you two today. When he was helping before the show, that was all for you. He sat front row before he even knew you were going to be on that stage.”

You blew out a breath and ran a hand through your hair, which you’d taken out of its updo. “I don’t know.” You told him honestly. “I don’t know and that’s the problem. Things are still really weird between me and him, and going out with you? That wouldn’t be fair to me or you.” And the other person you couldn’t wait to see.

He nodded again, understanding coating his features. “I get that, but hey,” he smiled at you, “we’re still friends right?”

You grinned wide, relief flowing through you. The last thing you’d wanted to do was hurt his feelings and you were so glad he was taking this so well.

“Of course we are,” you replied honestly. Right then, your phone started ringing and you stood up to answer. Martha was outside waiting for you.

You walked back to your table, saying your goodbyes to everyone. You were pulled into hugs and thanked a few more times. You really wanted to take your time but you couldn’t stop the part of you that wanted to rush home and sprint onto the rooftop.

As soon as you were out the door you were sprinting to the car. You spent the whole ride anxiously fiddling with the bouquet of flowers from Peter.

You barely thanked her as you stepped out the door, closing it and waving goodbye as she pulled away.

You rushed straight up the stairs, wasting no minute. You felt hopeful, for the first time in a long time. You were going to make sure he knew you were sorry, make sure the two of you remained friends.

You stepped onto the roof, the wind blowing around you. Only then did you realize you were still in your costume. That didn’t matter though, you didn’t want to risk going down to change. And you were sure that if he did stop by tonight, he would love to hear about the crazy day you had.

You stepped close to the ledge, setting the bouquet down by your feet and you leaned over slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of the hero you’d come to think of as a friend.

A weird sense of familiarity washed over you, and you realized, this was exactly what you’d been doing a few hours ago. Standing on that makeshift balcony, waiting for your lover to come so you could make amends. Except, this wasn’t a fake balcony, and there was no way you and Spider-Man were lovers, barely friends at best. But still, there was something familiar there.

You waited. And waited. Just when you were starting to give up hope, you heard the small thwip you’d come to realize signaled his arrival. Soon after, you heard a pair of feet land in the middle of your rooftop.

You turned toward him, heart racing. For a moment neither of you said anything, just stared at each other, but you quickly decided you needed to get your words out before he left again like last night.

“I am so sorry. I’ve been so worried since last night that I upset you and I can't stand it, please would you-,”

Oh….oh.

Before you could even inhale to get your next word out, he was walking towards you, ripping his mask off, gripping your face, and pulling you into a deep kiss.

You didn’t even get to see him but that was the last thought on your mind. He was kissing you. And it was perfect. Your hands flew up to his hair, and you tugged slightly, making him kiss you even harder.

His mouth moved against yours like he’d been waiting his whole life to do this, and couldn’t believe he finally got the chance. You met him just as eagerly, for each kiss, trying to memorize the feeling of his lips on yours.

Something about this, all of it, felt so, so familiar. But every time you made to pull away, his lips chased yours and you couldn’t help but give in.

Soon enough you both pulled away to catch your breaths, eyes still shut as you leaned into each other, foreheads touching. You enjoyed the moment for a bit, and then you opened your eyes, about to make a joke about how that was an interesting way to accept an apology.

You gasped out loud, hands flying up to cover your mouth as you stumbled backward.

“Oh my god,” you whispered. “Oh my god.”

“Y/N/N, I’m so sorry,” he says. Peter says. Because it’s Peter standing in front of you right now and he didn’t seem to be the least bit taken aback by your reaction.

You’re unsure what to say to him, your head is reeling and you can't breathe.

“Oh my god,” you repeated, your voice barely a breath.

“Y/N, please, please let me explain.” He stepped toward you and reached out a hand.

You shook your head so quick, that you thought you might give yourself whiplash. “No. This,” you pointed at him, “is so sick, Peter.” Your voice broke at the end and you tried to fight back the tears that were already burning in your eyes.

His eyes widened. “Y/N I promise you, it’s not what you think-,”

“What do you think I think Peter?” You asked him, voice full of exasperation. “Because I think, you lied to me. I think, you played me for a fool. I think, you’re sick and twisted for sitting here with me every night and playing friends with me. Asking me about my day, pretending to care. Fuck, asking me about my ex. Continuously,

“I think,” you continued, tears flowing freely now, voice shaky and weak, but still conveying your anger. “I think you got me to trust you, again. Just so you could stomp all over every bit of me, again!”

“It’s not like that Y/N, it was never like that. Please, believe me, sweetheart. Please don’t cry.” He begged, looking like it was taking every muscle in his body to hold himself back from pulling you in again.

“Why should I believe you?” You snapped at him. It was hard for him to believe that, just a minute ago, he was holding you again. Kissing you like nothing else in the world mattered. He’d give anything to have that back.

“Because every moment we had out here was real! Every concern, every question. I was never playing pretend, I just, ugh!” He groaned out loud, dropping his head in his hands, and tugging his hair tightly before looking up at you again. “I fucked up Y/N,” his voice is watery, and because you can’t undo the time you spent together, as Peter and as Spider-Man, you can’t help the strong impulses you feel to hold him tight. But you stand your ground and wait for him to continue.

“First when I didn’t tell you about this,” he said gesturing towards his suit. “Which has its own reasons. And then again, when I bailed on you all those times, which was because of this. And again when I let you walk away from me that night at school. I should’ve fought for you, I should’ve shown up more, I should’ve shown up every time and never given you any reason to not trust me,

“But I didn’t. And you called things off… And at that moment, all I could think was you, walking down the streets of New York, crying, and distracted.” He shuddered and your heart fell. You’d never thought of it like that. “You don’t know the things I’ve seen,” he said, looking up at you, eyes red and face flushed.

“So I thought I’d just walk you home, make sure you got there safely, and then I’d start staying away. But it was you,” his voice broke. “And you were so upset and all I could think was that it’s my fault and I hated myself. So when you invited me to hang out on the roof with you, I thought I’d show up, try to cheer you up a little,

“And you made me tea, that night,” he laughed softly. “I don’t think you even realized, but you made it the way I always drink my tea. My favorite.” Your mouth fell open a little when you realized you had, in fact, made his favorite tea that night. He’d told you during a late-night conversation before you two had started dating, and ever since, it was the only tea you drank.

“So I had to stay,” he continued. “And then we started talking, and you were joking, and telling me things I had no idea about. And I never wanted to leave,” he admitted softly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked him, pointing at his mask on the floor, voice raspy from the tears still clogged in your throat. “When we were still together? I’ll bet that's why you were always bailing, isn’t it?”

He looked down and nodded. “It is. Or was. I wanted to,” he looked up at you suddenly, his face so sincere, that you could feel the desperation in his next words. “God Y/N, you have no idea how many times I almost did. But I stopped myself every time because the risks of you knowing were too high.”

“Risks?” You asked confused.

He nodded, “I’ve met a lot of people. Bad people. And if the one catches wind of this, of you? If someone ever tried something, I’d never forgive myself.” He looked away shaking his head.

“So no one knows?”

He shook his head again. “Only Ned and May.”

“Ned knows?” You knew they were best friends, but really?

“It's not like that, no.” He waved his hand. “He found out by accident. He was waiting in my room one day, and I crawled in through the window ‘cause I didn’t see him.”

You huff out a breath from your nose. That was so Peter. You’d bet money that May found out in some similar situation.

“Wait,” you started, “if we went through all of that, and you still didn’t tell me, why tell me now?”

“Because I can’t stand to be away from you any longer.” His voice sounded broken, like he’d been dying to get that off his chest.

He stepped closer again, and you didn’t push him away this time, much to his surprise. He doesn’t stop until he’s standing right in front of you.

“I’ll protect you from anything or anyone that may come your way. I’d do anything for you sweetheart,” he repeated his words from earlier and you felt something grow in your chest. One of his hands came up to cup your cheek, the other, moving to your waist. Your hands rose up to lay on his chest.

“God, you have no idea how much it was killing me to sit beside you all those nights and not be able to touch you.” He whispered, staring straight into your eyes.

You met his gaze. You believed him, every word. You’d known Peter for years, you knew when he was lying to you, which was part of why you broke up with him. You knew he was lying to you, or holding something back from you, you just didn’t know what. But you still had a few more questions.

“Last night. Why did you run off? Why didn’t you just tell me then?”

“Because I was a coward,” he admitted, expression sad. “I was enjoying it all too much, I wasn’t ready to ruin it yet. I still couldn’t believe I found a way to still talk to you, and you were asking to see me,” he blew out a breath.

Yeah, obviously that didn’t initially start well.

You nodded. “And when you kept asking me about you. About my ex and how I felt about him, why?” That part still had you confused

He looked up, closing his eyes, “I won’t lie to you sweetheart, that was just me being a dumbass. That was complete selfishness and…,”

He trailed off. “And what?” You questioned him. There was some unspoken thing you two were doing right now, that you could ask anything, and he’d answered honestly. It was the least he could do.

“And jealously,” he finished quietly, looking down at the ground.

“Jealousy?” You repeated, still confused. “But who would you be jealous of…oh.”

And it was then that you realized how you’d talked about Brad to Spider-Man (before you knew who he was of course), and how, right after, when he’d asked about Peter, you’d said something about just trying to forget the whole thing. You had to hold back a laugh when you remembered all that. Poor guy must’ve been going insane.

He nodded. “You kept talking about that Brad guy and talking about trying to get over me. And I hated that you seemed to be getting over me so quick. Like I said, completely selfish. I'm sorry.”

“No,” you shook your head, “that makes sense actually. But seriously Peter..” You trailed off, shaking your head again.

Worry crept onto his features, “I know I messed up Y/N/N, big time, but I’m willing to do anything-,”

“You really thought I was into Brad?” You asked, wrinkling your nose up at him.

He let out a breath of relief, before laughing a little. God, he was so happy you were joking with him.

He leaned down and pressed his forehead against yours, “I’m sorry sweetheart.”

“You’re forgiven,” you told him, the sincerity in your tone impossible to miss, and he knew you were talking about more than the crazy jealousy.

He looked down into your eyes, his gaze so intense you almost went to look away. “I’m the luckiest man alive,” he whispered, his voice so low, you wondered if he even meant to say it out loud.

His eyes flickered down to your lips, and you took that as your cue. You leaned in, closing the gap between you. He kissed you back instantly. It was softer than the one earlier, but way more meaningful. Every press of his lips on yours felt like repairing something. Mending whatever it was that had broken between the two of you.

You pulled away first because you knew he wouldn’t, but he didn’t let you get far. He started planting kisses all over your face.

"Have I told you," Kiss. "How beautiful," Kiss. "I think you look tonight? And every night."

You laughed, face heating up at his compliments. "Thank you, Petey."

"I love it when you call me that." He said, grinning like a lovesick idiot. He leaned in and kissed your cheek one more time before he pulled away again.

"I didn't like it." He said, a frown on his face.

"Didn't like what babe?" You asked, tilting your head up at him while your fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck.

He let out a sigh, "The breakup. Being broken up. Not talking to you, as me, I mean. Not as Spider-Man. And I sure as hell didn't like seeing some other guy make out with my girl in front of everyone."

You laughed and you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach when he called you his girl. "Well don't worry," you told him, moving your hands to cup his face. "We're not doing that again, not if we can help it."

You leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the lips, before pulling away, which made him whine.

He moved his hands to your shoulder as he buried his face in your neck, breathing in your scent.

“You drive me crazy, sweetheart.” He said, voice muffled by your skin.

You giggled, “You drive me crazier, Peter Parker.”

‘crazier’ taglist: @coralineyouareinterribledanger @666yourmomdotcom

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p3terparker · 11 months

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𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆 𝗺𝗲 - 𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: peter wants to be babied.

𝘄/𝗰: 0.5k

𝗮/𝗻: hey guys!! it has been nearly a year since i’ve last written and i just wanna say i’m sorry for leaving for so long </3 please do bear with me, this may not be that good judging by how long it’s been since i’ve last written. i hope you enjoy though! also for everyone who has requested something, i haven’t forgotten about you! i’m getting to those soon :)

“please hold me”

it’s nearly 1am and you’re sprawled out on your bed watching some random movie that was playing on tv. you’ve been up waiting for hours for peter to come by after patrol, and now he’s finally here sneaking in through your window.

“are you okay baby? you finished up pretty late” you question softly as you take off his mask and brush his hair out of his face.

“i’m fine. i just want you to hold me” he says tiredly and practically puts all of his body weight on you, causing you both to fall back onto your bed.

adjusting yourselves to get more comfortable, you’re now laid back on your pillow as you hug peters large frame while his face is nuzzled in your chest.

you two lay silently as you rub his back until you decide to break the silence.

“you know, you’re still in your suit. you’re getting my bed dirty.”

“you just want me to take it off so you can see me naked”

“you’re done” you say before attempting to push him off of you. peter quickly caught your hands before you could even try.

“how did you–”

“i’m spider-man, baby”

“clearly” you chuckle, referring to him still being in his suit.

“since you want to see me naked so bad, i’ll take it off” he groans as if it’s the hardest task in the world. “happy now?”

“very. now come lay back down”

you don’t have to tell him twice. he quickly gets back into the position you two were in before and enjoys the warmth and comfort you bring him.

“you’re so perfect petey, did you know that?”

“mmm” he groans into as he nuzzles his face further into your chest, enjoying the sudden compliment.

“i mean seriously. you’re so smart, so strong, so caring and so funny. you being handsome is just the cherry on top”

“stoppp” he whines. “i’m blushing.”

“okay fine, i’m done”

“nooo, i didn’t mean it! keep going please” he cries as he lifts up his head to look at you.

“you are truly such a big baby”

“i’m your big baby. now continue please, i love being praised by you.”

how could you deny him?

“i love how cute you are. you have the prettiest brown hair and eyes. your face is perfectly sculpted too. i don’t know how i got blessed with the most handsome boyfriend in the world.”

“mmm” he groans again in complete ecstasy. hearing your compliments is like music to his ears.

“you’re so cute, i just want to squish your cheeks” you say before lifting his head up slightly and squishing his cheeks together.

you cannot believe he’s letting you baby him like this.

“aww petey, you’re so adorable”

“thank you” he says with a pink tint on his cheeks as he rests his head on your chest again, suddenly feeling sleepy.

you two sat in silence for a few more minutes and he peacefully drifted to sleep.

you were definitely going to make fun of him for tonight in the morning.

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webslingingslasher · 2 months

Text

Begin Again

an: this has been a long time in the making and I think it's a favorite of mine.

Pairing: Peter Parker X Mean!Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, enemies to lovers.

CW: harsh language, mental breakdowns, mentions of cheating (not peter)

Word Count: 24K

Summary: You've lived next door to Peter your whole life and the last nine years you've detested him. Now you're going through a breakup and it's nice to know someone's awake with you. Even if it is Peter Parker.

Breakups suck.

That’s it. That’s the whole message. There’s nothing else to add, except you’d never let yourself love again. It’s not like you didn’t know it wasn’t going to happen, you were aware the entire year what it would lead into, but hasn’t every girl sworn, at least once, they were the exception to a boys rule?

Natalie Greene’s voice echoed in your mind, “don’t get involved with a senior boy. They move on and you’re left picking up the pieces in homeroom.” You didn’t listen. You got involved and it was a good year, you knew he was going to college and when he left the break up was inevitable. Still, it didn’t hurt as hard until three months into the school year he called and said he met someone else.

You wish you weren’t so kind and understanding to him.

You called Natalie Greene the second it ended, she picked up and that angel voice of hers shined through the phone. She asked ‘hello?’ three times before you sobbed. You could feel the empathy in her tone, ‘he ended it, huh?’ All you could do is squeak back, ‘stay right there babe, I’m on my way with the break up kit.’

She showed up with a stray grocery bag. “alright,” she stated, hands on her hips.

“I got ice cream, a super soft blanket, movies - of all genres, face masks, a lighter-”

“Why do you have a lighter?”

Natalie rolls her eyes with a goofy grin, “to burn stuff, duh.“

The gesture was nice, but you couldn’t focus on the movie.

It felt like everytime you blinked there were tears that would find themselves tracking down your cheeks, you sniffled occasionally and blankly stared at the screen; flashbacks clouding your mind. Each kiss, each laugh, each touch, every fight and makeup, the first time you felt someone's hips melt into yours.

A supercut of every moment.

You were replaying a thousand things and all he was thinking about was the new girl under him, you were angry at everything all at once. Angry at yourself for letting yourself get hurt and feeling this much pain, because you knew it was coming, it was the whole agreement when it started. Angry at him for not breaking his promise and loving you anyway, angry at him for not telling you he’d wait for you and everything would be okay.

Angry that you hate him and yourself but more angry how quickly you’d fall back into him if he called.

“I knew this was gonna happen, Nat.” You sniff, a cry bubbles from your throat, “so why does it hurt so bad?”

Your friend frowns, she’s no savor to heartbreak. She’s been where you are more times than one could take, she still loves with her whole heart and you don’t know if you could ever do it again. Natalie wraps her arms around your shoulders while you shake with a sob, you cry into her knowing you're matting her blonde hair but she just pats you and holds you close.

“Because even though the ending was coming it didn’t feel real until the book closed. And maybe a little bit because you hoped he’d change his mind.”

You gasp, “how do I get past this? Nat, it feels..”

You’re tugged into her so tight you can feel her collarbone against your cheek, “like you’re dying? Yeah, that happens. But, you’ll live. It doesn’t feel like it now, but the day will come where you can think about him, smile, and thank him for the opportunity.”

You snort, “for breaking my heart?”

Natalie Greene holds you as tight as she can, “for making you grow.”

Your shoulders feel like they’re falling behind you as you inch along the hallway, everything feels heavy. Your feet are like lead blocks, and your heart feels like it’s been tied down with an anchor. It hurts more to know he’s not aching like this, he has someone new to keep him busy.

Blinking at your locker you fight back a yawn, two weeks after heartbreak and it still feels the same. You sleep like shit, tossing and turning and weird dreams when you finally dozed off. The one thing that’s helped keep your mind away from him, was your neighbor. Every night, at 3:02 am, on the dot, you hear the same movements.

A window slams shut, two soft hops on the floor and three bumps against the wall.

For six nights straight you kept count, it was methodical. A nightly routine, you weren’t sure what he was doing, but it was something. It made your mind wonder, your most recent theory was that he was a smoker; weed, cigarettes or whatever, and he would blow smoke out his window before landing in bed.

Maybe his bed was against your wall and that’s why you heard so many small knocks.

Last night you stayed up, you waited and right on the minute, like you expected, you heard a window slam shut. A small grin crossed your face, not at him, but at the idea of a constant. You lost your reliable figure, he’s thousands of miles away with his own new person, but tonight, and for the last seven nights you’ve had something to rely on. Something that couldn’t go anywhere.

You blink and suddenly you’re staring at your open locker, you don’t even remember putting in the combination. On autopilot you grab what you need for your next three classes and shrug your backpack down. Lately, it seemed like everything moved in slow motion.

“Are we ready to go to Flash’s party friday and makeout with a rando or are we still numb to everything?”

Natalie smiles at your figure, when you slouch and give her a “hey, Nat,” her blonde hair bounces as she nods her head understandingly, “still dead to the world, understandable.”

“At this point I’d do heroin to feel something,” your deadstare makes her think you might be serious. “Tell you what, if you’re still this miserable in six weeks, we’ll do it together.”

Your eyebrow quirks, “you’d do heroin with me if I’m still this miserable?”

Natalie Greene’s hand sticks out, her eyes ferocious. You know immediately she has something up her sleeve.

“Six weeks, starting today.”

You have nothing else to go on except the nightly wake up call and Natalie Greene’s plan.

“Six weeks.”

It’s solidified with a handshake, your fingertips turn white in her hold.

WEEK ONE.

Natalie Greene had talked you into going to Flash’s party, not to makeout with anyone, she quickly withdrew that from the table. You had been very hesitant at first, pushing at every restraint and reason to why you shouldn’t go and she stopped you right there. Manicured hand and all, petite and poised, she stopped your path.

“Here’s why you should go: get fucking wrecked, absolutely smashed and let it all out. I promise you, babe, it feels so, so good.”

“You think that will make me feel better? Getting hammered at a house party on a friday night?”

“I’ll take care of you for the night, okay? I’ll get you drunk and you can cry or scream or whatever you want. Let go of anything you’re holding back, that’s why you should go.”

You look her over, she’s been your rock the last three years in the school. Natalie is different, she protects and cares for herself like she does someone else. She also gives out more of her heart than she should, but she appreciates the burn it leaves. She tells you it’s one more ache preparing her for the one who would never make it hurt again.

If Natalie Greene says it’ll help, you’ll listen.

“You’ll drive me home and take care of me the next morning? Hungover and all?”

A denim jacket covered shoulder shrugs, “I think it’s time I repay you for all these years.”

For the first time in two weeks a real smile crosses your face, it’s small but it’s there.

Flashforward two days later, you’re eight drinks in and feeling like you’re flying.

You sway against your friend, “and he,” you hiccup, “he said he was like, soooo in love with me but then like, fuckin four days later,” it took you a moment to hold up the correct number on your hand, “boom, no boyfriend.” Natalie tried to hold back a laugh but her cheeks blew up when she let it escape, you pulled the most comical ‘what the fuck?’ face.

“I mean who the fuck does that- a sick person. That’s who! And- And you know what?” you hiccup, “I thought I’d be sad, but I just kinda hate him, does that make me bad?”

“Nah, I had some that killed me inside and some that I just shrugged off. Some moved in waves. One minute I’d say ‘fuck him!’ and the next I’d be overwhelmed with sadness because I didn’t have anyone to hold me anymore.”

You blink at her words and swallow the rest of your cup, you hadn’t thought about that part yet. Not having anyone to call yours anymore, that’s the hardest hitting part. You really, really wanted to call him. Just one more time, maybe he misses you just as much, maybe he doesn’t know how to say sorry, maybe he’s waiting for you to call.

“I should call him, right?” Your hands fumble at your pockets, your friend panics and grabs at your arms. “No! No, no, no! You absolutely should not call him!” You whine, “but what if he-”

Natalie grabs you tight, it makes you look at her confused. Her tone takes a sharp turn, she breaks through your drunken stupor in a second.

“He’s not. He’s not thinking about you, he’s not missing you, he’s not sitting around wishing you’d call him, he’s just not. He broke up with you, you don’t do that if you still care. Don’t do that to yourself, it ended mature. You have to be mature now.”

Brutal honesty. It puts everything in perspective.

He didn’t miss you, and that… really, really hurt.

Natalie was right, it comes in waves. Because there comes that sadness, it starts with small blinks and suddenly fat tears skip down your cheeks. “You’re right! He, he doesn’t-” you take harsh breaths, for the first time in two weeks you had a full breakdown. Everything you held back bottled over, you didn’t know how you could hold in so much hurt.

“Okay, okay. Let’s go, we can cry in the car but not here.”

Your breath shook the entire way to the car, the moment you sat in the passenger seat you cried. Your voice cracked, “he said he loved me!” Natalie nodded, cranking the engine, “And I’m sure he did, babe. Sometimes these things run their course and it’s no one's fault.”

It went like that the entire car ride, until she stopped at a McDonald's and got you a milkshake so you could focus on getting the liquid up the straw instead of saying the same three things on a loop. Once you got fries in your mouth the thought of him was erased from your mind, choosing to sing loudly and stick your head out the window on the way back.

Stumbling and giggling quietly at the late hour while you swayed on the walk to your door, you stretched freely and yawned when you stumbled in. Home alone for the weekend, just how it should be. “I’m getting naked,” you started stripping while walking to your room to change into pajamas, your heart lurches when you see one of his shirts.

You flop backwards on your bed, the room slightly spins and you close your eyes tight trying to ground yourself. Wriggling into the sheets you sigh, and yawn again. Your head buries into a pillow and sleep is imminent.

“Sleepy?”

Natalie Greene stands in the doorway with water and some advil, you smile and pat your bed, inviting her to join.

“Natalie Greene, you are so great, did you know that?”

Your friend laughs, you nuzzle into her hand while she strokes your hair, “I did, but a reminder is always nice. Go to sleep, babe. I’ll make toast in the morning.”

Her gentle touch makes it easy, you yawn one more time. Your voice flutters while you talk into sleep.

“Do me a favor?”

“Anything,” she whispers. You don’t think he ever loved you this soft.

“Make sure he gets home for me.”

Natalie Greene asked who but all she received were soft snores.

The birds were screaming the earth back awake.

At least that’s how it felt, your ears were ringing and there was a dull, present thud in your head. The sunlight has never been so bright, you hold your eyes shut but the ache gets louder and you can’t get comfortable.

There’s two pills and half a glass of water waiting for you, god bless Natalie Greene.

“Good morning, sunshine!” You wince and choke on your gulp of water, a knife has pierced your eardrum. “Oh my god, everything is on dial eleven, I think I’m dying.”

“How are you feeling? Besides the obvious, I mean.”

She means about him, you take a moment to really think about it.

“I think… I think I’m doing okay.”

Your friend smiles and throws her hair into a ponytail, “good, I’m making breakfast. Come join.”

After ten minutes and infinite pep talk you rise on shaky knees, stumbling towards your door and barely making it to the couch where you spread wide and gulped for air. Your friend snorted at your exaggeration over her shoulder and carefully walked towards you with a piping mug of tea.

Sitting up you bring a blanket over your shoulders, you squint at her before taking the handle. Taking a sip while you turn the TV on, searching for a midmorning throwaway show. A re-run of The Wendy Williams Show wins, you rest your head on a cushion and stare blankly at the screen. Natalie Greene humming up a tune in the kitchen.

You hadn’t even checked your phone yet, “what time is it?”

“Noon thirty.”

Your eyes widen, “my god,” you mumble to yourself.

Listening to Wendy your eyes lull shut and suddenly you're sinking back into sleep, you roll over and smack your dry lips. Until your friend is kicking at your shin with two plates in her hands, stacked full of the breakfast nines.

Your queasy stomach grumbles and any drowsiness is ripped away with hunger. Nearly drooling, you stuff a piece of french toast in your mouth and moan, “Nat, you’re the greatest thing I got.” She bounces her shoulder into yours, “I know.”

You fall into silence while you scarf breakfast down, booing and applauding when deemed necessary by Wendy. Leaning back you rest your hands over your full belly and pat gently. Swiping your tongue over your gums for any crumbs, you sigh happily.

“Hey, what did you mean last night? You said to let you know if he got home safely.”

You wave her off, “drunk stupidness, I hear my neighbor every night around the same time moving around. This last week, I dunno, it felt nice knowing someone else was up too?”

“Have you ever-”

Both your necks turn to look at the front door then back at each other, the knocking that caught your attention continues.

“Who’s-”

“Did you-”

You swallow and stand up, not so shaky anymore. Looking through the peephole your forehead hits the door at the sight of said neighbor, you know what they say about devils and appearing, groaning you take a moment to collect yourself and open the door.

“What do you want, penis?”

Peter Parker in all his glory, is knocking at your door with a plate of… cookies?

Neighbors forever, close pals never. You’d played together as kids, mostly elementary age but since you were eight you’ve had a disdain for Peter Parker. You’re not sure where it went wrong, but just looking at him you wanted to roll your eyes.

“I was going to say, ‘wow, how could a guy ever dump you?’ but now, I’d say that’s how.”

Normally that wouldn’t hurt, but the recent circumstances made it a cheap shot.

“Is this your sorry attempt to be a rebound? Because if it is, I want to make it extremely clear I’d rather eat glass than-”

The plate is shoved into your face, “May had me bring these over, she said your mom told her you’ve been a weepy, miserable mess because some dickhead thought he found someone better.”

You huff at him, your fingers wrap around his wristwatch as you pull it down, all you heard was weepy and miserable.

“I know you wouldn’t know anything about someone loving you but-”

“Is that Peter B. Parker?”

Natalie Greene reminds you of your hangover in record timing, you wince at her shriek. Peter gives a polite, dare you say charming (?) smile. It makes you fight back a gag, “hello, Natalie Greene.” Her eyes flash from his, to the plate, to the cracked open door across the hall and she gets a wicked grin.

The person you’ve hated and bickered with the most is suddenly the one you listen out for in the middle of the night. The look on her face, the glance she shared with you, proved she knew.

“Cookies?” Natalie nudges your arm, “he brought cookies and he’s right across the hallway, how nice.”

Peter’s oblivious to her tone, he has his goofy smile on and it makes you seeth. He’s always so god damn happy, it’s annoying.

“Well, actually, my aunt made them. But I am delivering, so I can accept some praise.”

She laughs, full on cackles and nudges you again.

“You know, in all the times you talked about Peter you never mentioned how funny he was!”

You don’t know what she’s playing at but you’re shutting it down immediately.

Peter looks at you, he seems almost hopeful and you have to settle the urge to toss the plate to the ground. “You talk about me?”

You cross your arms and sneer, “don’t worry, nothing good.”

His smile drops, “yeah, sorry. I don’t know why..” his curls bounce as he gently shakes his head before pushing the glass into your chest. “Here, eat as many as it takes to feel somewhat okay again.”

You grip the plate and look down, they’re your favorite.

“We, um. We have more over here, so if you want more. Or if you wanna hang out or something I’m here, so…”

Peter’s never been a friend like this before and it was some pity party you wanted no part of now.

“It’s a breakup. I’m sure I can manage without you just fine.”

His eyebrows turn in, “right. I just thought- nevermind, enjoy the cookies.”

Natalie gives him a sympathetic frown and sulks back inside, you keep your glare on his figure until he reaches his door. As you’re about to retreat he stops in the doorway, “for what it’s worth, I think he’s stupid and he’s gonna realize what he lost when it’s way too late.”

It’s almost nice, sometimes it sucks when the person you’re supposed to hate has human peek through their armor.

Too bad you’re more guarded than ever.

“Well, then. It’s a good thing you’re not worth much.”

Maybe it’s his resilience that troubles you, no matter how hard you push him away or beat him down with words he’ll pick himself back up and hand your words back in a package of self reflection.

Today is no exception, Peter flashes you a sad smile, this one actually is filled with pity.

“I’m sorry you’re hurting,” you didn’t have a chance to fire back. His door was already shut.

Heartache throbbed but the cookies were damn good.

On your third, you down half a cup of milk. You reach for a fourth and Natalie hasn’t said one word. Instead she cleaned the kitchen and packed up her overnight bag, before settling next to you for an episode of Jerry Springer and her own deserved treat.

“So, do tell, my friend. Is Peter the one you wanted to know was home safe?”

Deny till death.

“No way, I’m talking about Mr. Harrington, he’s like a hundred years old.”

Natalie takes her time chewing and swallowing, “your hundred year old neighbor is up in the middle of the night?”

It’s dumb to lie, you and her know the truth.

You shrug and take a fifth cookie, “he may have a routine, I dunno.”

Your friend hums, “I just thought it may be Peter, cause you share a wall and all.”

Gagging at his name you shake it off, “Gross! It’s bad enough knowing the plate these were on were in his hands.” It takes you a second but you’re able to plow through another bite.

“I just… why do we hate Peter so much?”

You don’t know, you think you blocked it out. Every time you look at him a weird feeling bubbles up and it makes you want to scream, cry, fight and hug it out with him in one second. It’s easier to bark at him than confront him about your feelings.

“I don’t know. He’s just a pest to me, every time I turn around he’s there. And I swear to god he spilled the beans about that party last year.”

Natalie Greene knows three things to be true.

One: Peter Parker likes you, you just don’t know it yet.

“What if you talked to him?”

Cookie crumbs fall over your shirt as you talk, “I’m sorry, what?”

Two: You like Peter Parker, you just don’t know it yet.

“If you need me and I’m not around, if you need someone to support you through this and I can’t be here, promise me you’ll knock on his door.”

You scoff at the idea, “yeah, sure.” she’s not very confident you mean it.

“Seriously, promise me right now if I can’t be there for you, you’ll ask him.”

She was serious, something in her tone made you shift and agree. It’s not like she’d go anywhere, Natalie Green was your lifeline.

“Alright! If you aren’t around and it’s literally life or death, I’ll ask… him.”

Three: Things get worse before they get better, you just don’t know it yet.

WEEK TWO.

Your mornings always started the same, a routine was important to you. It was consistent. It was wake up, hit up the bathroom, change, yawn and rub your eyes through breakfast before leaving to thrive in silence before school.

Today, when leaving, right as you’re pocketing your keys, your neighbor speaks out.

“Hey.”

You freeze, it’s rare you run into Peter in the mornings. You figure he leaves way earlier, or later than you. But when you do, you ignore each other with silence. You really don’t like the sudden change.

“How are you doing?”

You wonder if he heard you crying last night, you thought you got rid of it after the party. You didn’t understand how you could be happy one moment and miserable the next. What made it worse was when 3:02 am hit and you heard his window slam, your sniffles settled.

“Like I was dumped, thanks for the reminder.”

Your foot hits the first step when he calls out, “and the cookies?”

Biting your bottom lip you turn, it really was a nice gesture. You may not like him, but you loved May and she’s the one that put in all that hard work. Peter lights up when you face him, if he had a tail he’d start wagging it. It makes you bite down on your cheek, he doesn’t deserve unprovoked rage.

“They were really good,” you take three steps before turning back around.

“And, I uh, took your advice. Ate the whole plate, I mean.”

Peter fumbles, his key chain drops but he stays looking at you. His thumb shoots behind him to point at his door, “we have like, twenty left. Want some more?”

You shake your head softly, “maybe later?” Peter nods exuberantly, “yeah, yeah. I’ll bring them over.”

You curl your lip up and stomp down the steps, “thanks for the warning, penis!”

This was it.

This was your worst nightmare.

Not only did things get shuffled around until you were sitting next to Peter at dinner, where you made it a point to scoot your chair away from him when his shoulder touched yours and immediately swiped the area clean- But now you blinked blankly at your dinner while your mom droned on and on and on about the guy who dumped you. It didn’t matter if it was good or bad, you just wanted her to stop.

“And he was so sweet, wasn’t he? Honey, are you sure he hasn’t reached out? It’s not too late to call him, maybe if you-” May didn’t deserve to see you upset, and it kills you that Peter saw that emotion. Your mom didn’t even deserve it, you were so sick of trying to keep it together.

Your chair screeches with how quick you jump out of your seat.

“He doesn’t give a shit, he dumped me! So why do you think he’d call? He doesn’t want me, I mean he’s made that clear right?” Your eyes shoot to May’s, “I’m right, right? You don’t break up with someone if you still care, or want them, right?”

Tears haze your vision, “he ended it with me mom, and you know why? It’s cause he found a new girl! He fucking-” water rushes down your cheeks but you don’t stop, “he,” you collapse on the word, you can’t get a good inhale on breath.

“He left me to pick up the pieces, that’s all he did.” It clicked full motion, he left you behind and ended it. He got a fresh start and you were left trying to hold it together, like how it was, how it was supposed to be.

You sob, your chest has never felt so tight. Shaky breaths fade into sharp inhales, you can’t fucking breathe. Gasping you put a hand over your heart, you know in the back of your mind it’s a panic attack but all you feel is imminent death.

Peter stands and blocks your body with his, you don’t know what’s happening but you’re trying to get away. Each step you take backwards he takes one forwards until you're wheezing in your room, your ears are ringing and it feels like a heart attack is in approach. Your eyes squeeze shut and in an instant you feel calmer, it’s not because of your sudden blink. It’s because Peter has his hands over your ears pressing in, your back against the wall and front against his chest.

It’s the last place you want to be but you’re angry, and he’s there, and it’s all coming out.

You’re able to breathe but at what cost? You grip Peter’s shirt as tight as you could and wail into his chest, it’s the first time you’ve ever actually felt him against you. He’s more sturdy than you thought, as you push more and more weight on him he doesn’t stagger one bit. His arms held you to him, keeping steady until you’d push him away.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you coughed the words into his shirt, you held tighter when his only response was resting his chin on your head. You apologized and cried until you ran out of tears and your breaths were nothing but sharp inhales.

When reality hits and you realize you've been crying into Peter’s hold for minutes you push him away and wipe your nose. Avoiding his eyes, you look to the carpet, you have a fresh cry glow and mindset, it’s the good kind of emotional numb.

“I, um, I still have those cookies?”

Those being his choice of words after a troubling breakdown was warming, it made you feel like you weren’t so crazy. Or at least, Peter didn’t see you as crazy, which when thinking about didn’t mean much.

You can’t help but laugh, it’s so loud and opposite of every other emotion you spilled tonight it makes him jump, you see him setting up for the attack. The moment you snap at him and call him a weirdo for cornering you and throwing himself on you.

Tonight, you were full of surprises.

“Yeah,” you nod your head and wipe your nose one last time, “I’d love to come over for cookies.”

You had to look away from his smile, it was too blinding.

You broke the rule, you went lurking and hurt your own feelings. She’s all over his instagram, and she’s pretty. He’s all over hers, dating back to five months ago.

You do a double take, five months?

He had been cheating on you for months before he ended it. You feel sick. He told you he loved you while he was in bed with another girl. You felt so much rage inside you couldn’t hold it in, Natalie was too far away and Peter’s already seen you at your worst.

You move without thinking, slamming your fist on his door.

Wide eyes open it, Peter would be lying if he said he wasn’t scared he was the subject of attack. You swerve past him, if you were in a cartoon, steam would be billowing from your ears. You didn’t get angry often, and you’ve never felt upset enough to punch someone, but all you could think about was screaming and slamming your fist into the wall.

“I hate him, I fucking hate him so fucking much. If you ever hear me crying I need you to come over and tell me I’m absolutely pathetic for crying over a fucking cheater.”

While he’s glad you’re not there to yell at him, his heart sinks for you.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It was right in front of my face, too. She’d been claiming him since the second week of school. I’ve been a fool, god, I fucking hate him. I hate him so much I… I want to break something.”

Peter eyes his science notebook, he doesn’t have anything for you to break, but he has something that will make enough noise to drown out the voices. He grabs it and holds it out, you gently take it giving him a confused look.

“Wack it. Beat the absolute shit out of it on the counter.”

You look unsure, you don’t want to ruin his things, even if you don’t like him.

“Right on the edge, go on, do it.” His egging you on makes you follow his command, it’s gentle.

“Harder,” you test it.

“Harder,” you give a smack, it makes a popping sound and you jump, it feels good.

“Like you mean it, like you need it.” You do it again, it’s louder. You strike down without instruction, Peter starts barking at you, it makes you angrier.

“Harder, don’t be so weak!”

He hit the right nerve, you can’t stop, you’re moving so quick and using so much force the spine starts to rip from the cardboard. It feels good destroying something, it makes you beat the laminate harder. Loud cracks echoing from the walls.

You heave for air, every bit of force directed into your diminished trust. You yell between each blow.

“Fucking!”

“Piece!”

“Of!”

“Shit!”

You start to slow down, Peter’s notebook is fucked. You feel bad. Gasping for air when you’re done, Peter gives you a head nod, “better?”

You nod, “lots. Sorry about your book.” He doesn’t look bothered in the slightest, “it’s a good excuse to get a new one, I hate green.” You peer over the contents in the pages, “that’s a lie, everyone knows science is green.” Peter laughs, he nods like he’s saying ‘you got me there.’ “Doesn’t mean I like it though.”

Looking down at the notebook, you peer up at Peter. He looks soft, the sleeves of his zip up hoodie covered his thumbs, he has sweater paws. His hair framed his face nicely, his cheeks have a natural pink hue, it’s like he’s always sunkissed, or calming down from a laughing fit.

The sun is backlighting him perfectly, it makes his eyes look even more honey golden than they already do. You don’t know why you find him slightly cute at the moment, it makes your stomach tug and not in a good way. The last time you thought someone was cute you got burned, and you’ve always had a disdain for Peter.

Peter was the worst kind of rebound to have because you can’t decide who’d get more hurt from it, and the thought of that makes you want to avoid him forever.

“You’re looking at me funny.”

You are, it’s because you’re noticing him for the first time, at least since you were eight. Suddenly you can remember why you cut him out when you were a kid.

“I had a crush on you when we were younger. I think that’s why I stopped being your friend.”

Your confession made Peter’s eyes widen, he looks to the ground and hides his smile. When he picks his head back up he looks to the side, his cheeks a bit more flushed than normal. “That’s cute.”

It was. It was innocent and juvenile, his small response made you laugh. “Yeah, it really was.” You shouldn’t entertain it any further, but you can’t stop. Something about seeing his blush makes you want to keep going, “Wanna know when it started?” He looks curious, “sure.”

You go quiet for a minute, you haven’t thought about it in years. The moment it clicked you were freaked out, the first time you liked a boy and he was your best friend. You went from wanting to play in dirt to holding his hand. A smile spreads over your face when you watch the memory replay in your mind.

“We were at the complex playground and we were digging by that droopy tree across from the swingset, and I saw a lizard in the grass and I pointed it out to you. I told you I always wanted to hold one but they moved too fast and scared me, but you held out your arm and said ‘I got this.’” You laugh, replaying it once more.

“And you dive bombed and picked it up, and you were so fucking proud to have caught it. Then you placed it in my hand but I felt it move around and freaked out, but you held your hand over mine and said ‘don’t be scared.’”

There’s something about an eight year old Peter Parker with glasses and dirt smudged cheeks that had child you giddy.

Peter’s smiling, it’s like he’s reliving that day in his head too. “I fulfilled your lifelong dream and you fell for me.” You shrug, “maybe.” Setting his notebook on the counter you look around, you feel like you’ve said too much.

“Hey, um, thanks for the whole… unleashing my anger thing.” You're setting yourself up for a goodbye, Peter can sense it.

“Are you hungry? Wanna go get some pizza?”

No matter what was said, or thought, you still have that pinch of annoyance at him. But his brightness was what you needed today, and you hadn’t had lunch. You have a sinking feeling you’d regret it, there was something that felt like it was a bit more than friendly and it had you throwing up every wall possible.

Still, you find yourself agreeing.

“Sure. Let’s get some pizza.”

It was a stereotypical pizza place and those were the best ones. The wall is covered in pictures of random people, terrible paintings and red checkered tablecloths covered wobbly tables. They had a permanent sticky residue, your elbows peeled when you raised them up.

“I’m surprised you didn’t judge me on my hawaiian choice.” He always did, he told you it wasn’t authentic and childish.

“Hey, I’m a pizza guy, alright? Anything you put on a pizza belongs on it. I mean, I get the appeal, sweet and savory.” Your face brightens, he understands. “Exactly! And the warm pineapple just hits differently, it’s like-” Peter can read your mind, you say it at the same time. “Fries and ice cream.”

Another thing he found gross, your head tilts, it just kind of clicks with Peter. Your ex would sneer when you’d go for a dip, you begged him to try it a hundred times, you promised he’d like it but he’d tell you it was ‘fucking gross’.

“Hawaiian and pepperoni, can I get you kids anything else?” You shake your head while Peter responds for the both of you, ‘no thanks, we’re good.” Peter’s slice has a pool of grease in a slice of his pepperoni, it looks delicious. He sees you eying his choice and holds it out, “you want a bite don’t you?” Your eyes flash to your slice, “only if you take a bite of mine.” It’s only fair. “Swap with me,” you trade plates and tap slices as a cheers, humming when you take a bite Peter nods impressively.

You swap back and take a bite of yours, it’s heavenly. “I’m glad I got mine.” Peter agrees with the statement, “I’m sorry, babe, but pepperoni is superior. It’s all about keeping it simple.” You know he meant nothing by it, you know it meant it in a friendly way, you know it’s a regular pet name to use in passing, but he called you babe.

Hearing the term of affection makes your skin crawl, you swallow a lump in your throat. You want to snap at him, but instead your voice comes out soft. “Please don’t call me that.” Peter’s eyes soften, he almost tells you he didn’t mean it like that, but he knows you already understand that.

“No problem, old lady.” It took a second, but you couldn’t stop the laugh. “What did you just call me?” Peter bites his bottom lip, “well, that’s the opposite of babe, isn’t it?” It makes your smile bigger, it’s funny, if you had asked him something that simple he’d fight you on it, ask a million questions and push it until you gave up.

For the first time in a month you really can’t remember why you thought he was so great.

WEEK THREE.

Natalie Greene has her hair pulled slick back in a ponytail, a determined look and hands on her hips.

“Let’s fuck some shit up.”

Lunch with Peter had really pushed you forward, you had strayed away from him the last few days. You still listened for him nightly but avoided him in the hallway and at school, he was everything he was not, and it made you feel queasy.

It was time you removed him from your life, you started with blocking him on everything. From instagram to duolingo. Then, you piled up everything he left behind or things that reminded you of him, but you couldn’t touch your closet. You couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Enter Natalie Greene.

“I don’t know why it’s so hard for me, everything else was fine.” Natalie shrugs, your closet doors are open and she’s itching to start rummaging. “It’s not for me. What are we thinking, trash, donate, burn? Dare I say detonate?”

You snort, “think I could do some black magic?” Her eyes light up, “I’ll look up the dark arts right now, don’t dare me.” You sigh, “I don’t care what you do with them, I just need them out of here.” Natalie Greene understands, she’s been there too a few times. Everything that reminds you of him burns like hell. A constant reminder of what’s no longer.

It’s only five shirts and some sweatpants but it feels paralyzing. Once his clothes are gone he’s no longer, like the last year never meant anything. He cheated but you still feel like it was real for the time you had him.

“Shit, can we raincheck the disposal?” Natalie is staring at her phone in her hand, a worried line where her lips were. “Family stuff.” You tell her it’s fine and send her out in a second, staring at the bag you started to twitch.

It felt daunting- a looming presence. You almost got rid of him but couldn’t. It was five minutes of harsh breathing, then you drag it across the hall hoping Peter was home. You needed them gone.

May answered the door and you feel slightly flustered.

“Hi, May. Is Peter home?”

She welcomes you in the door, skipping over the makeshift laundry bag and giving a quick but squeezing hug. “How are you feeling?” If you had been asked that a week ago you’d fly off the handle, but this week it feels like you can breathe a bit better.

“I think I’m doing pretty okay. It helped to know he cheated, it makes me miss him sixty percent less. The other forty makes me feel pathetic.” May frowns with empathy, “my college boyfriend cheated. Betrayal and hurt is a weird feeling when mixed with love.”

You laugh, “yeah, it really is.” May clears her throat, “Peter’s in his room, he may be busy with some homework.” You thank her and move down the hallway, the plastic bag follows, half of you hopes it rips because it’s what he deserves.

You knock and wait for his response, grunting when you swing the trash bag over the threshold and let it drop. “I have an odd request for a man.” Peter seems surprised to see you for a second, then looks at the bag and back at you. He seems a bit more weary.

“Uh huh.”

“I’m getting rid of his things and Nat had to dip, wanna come with?” You follow up with a wince, “I’m sorry, this is super weird and out of place.”

Peter shrugs, “if it helps, it helps. And if you’re serious, I’ll go with you.” You take a deep breath, healing and growing isn’t always comfortable. “Fuck it, let’s donate some shit.”

You feel like you stand straighter walking out with Peter behind you, he’s carrying the dead weight and you feel accomplished. May has a raised eyebrow, you hold out your hand and settle her curiosity.

“Don’t worry, justice is about to be served.”

May grins at her nephew's soft smile, she’s seen and heard about you more in the last two weeks than she has in the last nine years. “It’s sounding a lot more like twenty percent.”

The moment things started turning south was at the donation center. You weren’t even standing super close to Peter, or radiating an aura that even suggested he was anything more than a conveniently close acquaintance. But the volunteer at the front thought differently.

“Aw, I wish more young couples came in, it always seems to brighten up the place!”

You feel like a force of wind caught you breathless, every inch of you froze on the spot. When she says couple you think of him, but you’re not a couple anymore. When she says ‘couple’ you feel your heart encapsulate with rubble, the idea of him makes you feel sick.

You don’t think you could ever love again.

Especially not with Peter, not even when he shies away with pink cheeks and tries to shrug her comment off. It’s not worth the awkwardness of announcing you’re not a couple, you both know you’re not, and she doesn’t really care if you were or not.

“We were just in the mood to donate today,” he plays it off well. You chew on your lip and watch him fill out the donation slip, it’s second nature for Peter to take care of you, it was something he mostly failed at.

Before the attendant can take the bag, Peter stops her by hovering his hand over it, he turns his neck and makes eye contact. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Your heart pounds, threatening to crack the rock.

“I’m sure.” Because, you really are.

Peter smiles, “any last words?” You try to think of something, nothing comes to mind other than a blur of frustration and confusion. Raising your hand you give it the middle finger, Peter’s laughing at your blank face, “c’mon, you know you wanna double it.” You do, so you did.

It feels freeing, you’re not healed but you don’t have a daunting weight on your shoulders anymore. A satisfied smile spreads, your hands drop for a second before Peter’s high-fiving you. You’re tucked under his arm after saying his thanks to the confused volunteer, bumping your hip against his and caged in his hold you feel safe. Safer than you’ve ever felt.

A crack in the rocks, your heart thumps wildly when he drags you opposite from where you came. “Let me buy you a hawaiian.”

Peter is pretty. You could admit it. Never out loud, but you’d admit it silently. He’s on fire tonight, keeping you laughing and talking. He’s a perfect story teller, he has a way of pulling you in. He’s charismatic and throws himself into every role, voices and body movements.

Your chin is resting on your hand while you focus on every word of his, entranced in his excitement. A lamp hanging over your mini booth makes him look a tad yellow, but his eyes shine brighter than all hell, you never knew brown eyes could suck you in for hours.

For a second your mind blips and you truly can’t remember his eye color. But you know they’re nothing like Peter’s.

You forget to react, because Peter cut himself off and waved his hand in front of his face. You blink alert, he has a very charming smile, you look at a table of older women. “You good? Felt like you were trying to look into my soul.”

You can’t stop it, it's a knee jerk reaction and the moment you say it you regret it.

“Your eyes are very pretty.” You won’t stop looking at a slice of mozzarella on a grandma’s plate. Peter hums, nodding his head like he understands, “so you weren’t trying to sacrifice me, you just got lost in my very pretty eyes.”

The crack splinters, a chunk falls off. You meet his eyes, he’s not making fun of you. You sit straighter and reach out to steal a piece of pepperoni from his slice, acting like you’re not blatantly flirting with ease.

“I just haven’t noticed them before I think.”

Peter’s quiet for a moment, his arms are crossed on the table, fingers tap on his elbows.

“Well, I’m glad you are now.” It’s a little too much, he’s not allowed to entertain you back, he could hurt you too.

You clear your throat, “I need to ask you something.” Peter stops tapping, it’s like he’s been waiting on you to say it. “Yeah, anything.”

You lean forward a little, “did you tell my mom about the party last year?” He looks slightly disappointed that was your question, “nope.” Your eyes narrow, “I’d rather us not start a friendship built on lies.”

Peter lights up, “friendship?” A displeased expression was shared, “thin ice, Parker.” He seems a bit more determined to tell the truth this time.

Peter sits up and interlocks his fingers, “I promise I didn’t tell her. Mr. Harrington did. And I know how much you like him and I thought you would stop going to see him if you knew and he’s super old so I just kinda… let you believe it was me.”

Your heart breaks free, it’s loud and pumping and it’s making you feel alive. A sense of urgency to do something to him makes you itch, you have to pull your hands to your lap. In that second, for whatever reason, all you want is to feel his skin on yours.

He’d be willing to do anything for you, even at the cost of you hating him.

“You’re the most selfless person I know and it’s kind of insufferable.” Peter rolls his eyes, “just admit you like me, god.” Your breath stutters, but you move right past it.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, keep talking about the petting zoo.”

Peter jumps back into character, “alright, so I’m down on-”

For the first time in weeks you slept through the night, until three am. You woke up on your own, a mental alarm had you looking out for him. After you hear the comforting chorus of movement, you hide under your pillow and go back to sleep.

Your world is falling apart. You were on the track to healing, each piece of your heart was slowly mending back together. Until news of Natalie Greene going out of town hits, you collapse to your bed with an arm over your eyes. Facetime carries her into your room.

“Why couldn’t your grandma die next month?” She nods her head, folding a tank top to drop it into her carry on. “So true, she should’ve known you were having a crisis.” You nod, “it’s so hard knowing the world doesn’t revolve around me.”

The room goes quiet as she moves around and packs. You contemplate telling her, you didn’t want a spectacle and you didn’t even know if or what you wanted from Peter. But damn if you hadn’t been thinking about it for days. You wonder if she’s picked up on the hints, you’d been relying on her less and less.

“Are you going to hang with Peter while I’m gone?” Your mind flashes to him, the past few nights he’d sent you a few videos that he thought you’d like. And you did, even if he didn’t know you as deeply as he has until recently, he still makes you feel seen.

He would send you things he found funny.

Peter sends you things he knows you’d find funny.

“Maybe. He buys me pizza so he’s cool to have around, I guess.” Natalie Greene snorts, “and I’m sure he makes fun of your pineapple.” It feels like your heart shines, “no, actually. He gets it.” Your eyes flash to the top of the screen, a text from Peter pops up, you waste no time hitting the notification.

‘Wanna come have some brownie cookies?’

You bite your lip, rising from your bed you shuffle into your slippers. “Hey, Nat, I gotta go. I’m really sorry about your grandma.” She rolls her eyes, “she was super old and I didn’t really know her, it’ll be cool to see my cousins though.”

“Have fun on the trip!”

A wicked grin, “have fun with Peter.” You don’t even fight her on it, she knew exactly what you were doing.

Your knuckles tapped on the door, it was opened in seconds. Peter had a glow like you’ve never noticed, he only got more and more pretty. A smile stretched across his face, you love how it always meets his eyes.

“Hi.”

Your slippers softly scrape the wood floors when you enter, “hi.” Peter gestures you towards the kitchen, and for whatever reason, you reach behind you and tug him along.

“Okay, okay, so what did she say?”

Your legs swing on the counter, mumbling between mouthfuls of the dessert fusion you’re fully invested in Peter’s story. He had caught Mrs. Hopkins and the chef that lives on floor two in an argument, and it turns out Mrs. Hopkins was the complex's porch pirate.

Peter swallows his own bite, “she asked me to back her up! And I was all like, ‘hell no, you stole my aunt’s juicer.’” You gasp, “not May’s juicer.” Peter holds a finger up, ‘nah, I caught her red handed. She was so pissed and on the spot she snapped at me like, ‘it wasn’t a juicer, it was a butter dish.”

You slap a hand over your mouth, “oh no.” Peter’s eyebrows raise, turning his back to grab a glass of milk. “I wish you could’ve seen the look on her face when she realized she told on herself, it was awesome. She was spewing shit all the way to the elevator.”

Finishing your treat your tongue feels thick, holding out a hand in a silent request for a swig of his milk. Peter looks between your hand and his glass, he looks weary.

“Are you sure you wanna drink after me? I figured you’d be scared of my cooties.” You motion for the cup, he passes it over and you wrap your palms around the glass.

“Oh, you absolutely have boy cooties, they just become non-contagious at puberty.” Peter runs his tongue over his teeth, “I think I forgot that lesson, what else can I expect from puberty?” You laugh on a gulp of milk, “trust me, Parker, puberty hit you like a bus.

He steps closer, you set the glass down next to you.

“Is that a good thing?”

You look over his face, he’s got a defined bone structure but soft features. A boyish charm coats over him, it’s just enough of a hint of innocence you beg he never loses it. It’s a no brainer, he was attractive, your eyes flash to his mouth, it’s a wild instinct and you try your best to shake it off.

“Yes. I’d say puberty was very kind to you.” Peter takes another step, “how so?” Pretending to think about it, like you weren’t already, you take a second to respond. You don’t notice him taking another step.

“Well, you have a nice jawline.” Peter tilts his head slightly, “is that all?” You’re not sure what it is, but there’s an undertone and it fills you with excitement.

“And very nice curls.”

“I don’t think that has anything to do with puberty.” You suppose he’s right, “you’re taller than me now.” You had an inch on him when you were kids. Peter’s suddenly right in front of you, “especially now.” He has to look down at you while you blink up at him from the counter, “yeah, you’re like a giant.”

Your mind betrays you, his lips are unnaturally pink, they look like they’re the right amount chapped. “Anything else?” You’re struggling, all you can think about is him but you can’t follow a train of thought.

“You smell really good,” you take a deep breath when his hands rest on either side of you, he’s caging you in and everything builds with anticipation, you fight the urge to pull him in. “You’re just complimenting me now.”

You shake your head, “do you know how many teenage boys smell bad?” It’s not your fault, he’s so close his scent has invaded your senses, you wanted to inhale him until you turned blue.

“One more.” You try to think, he’s making it very hard. It takes a second but you have one, proud to have pulled it from the chamber, a sly grin takes place.

“You-” Lips on yours, it happened so fast you couldn’t catch up. Mind spinning when you realize Peter Parker was kissing you, you know you should shove him off, but it feels right. It’s over as quick as it started.

You just got out of a relationship, one that tugged you to one of the lowest points of your life so far. It’s not lost on you when you weren’t the one to pull away, but you’re the first one to comment on it.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” You weren’t mad, you were warning him, he doesn’t know what lies ahead.

“But I really wanted to.” His eyes keep looking you over, was he expecting you to scream?

It’s dangerous territory, your voice feather soft when it comes out. “And do you want to again?” Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea.

It felt like the air went still in the room, everything slowly melted into the background until it was only you and him. The quiet hum of the air conditioner faded into silence, the scene music from a movie on the tv in the room behind you diluted to nothing.

It was just you and Peter, and he was getting closer. It was achingly slow, you know what he’s doing, he’s giving you a chance to escape. Bail before it became too real, but has he thought about the possibility of you leaning closer?

What are you doing?

His lips hovered over yours, when you closed your eyes he took it as permission.

You’d always heard of the fireworks, that kisses are like explosions of happiness. And they were, and you loved them, but there were no fireworks. At least with him.

With Peter, your entire sky brightened. Little prickles of electricity dolly chained up your spine, an explosion of color in your mind. It made you starving and whole in one touch, his body made to fit against yours perfect.

You wonder if he has the same feeling, you think he does when his hand cups your face, the other one tugs your hip so you fit him better. It’s bold of you, but when you feel that entranced you don’t know how to stop. Your tongue swipes on his bottom lip, it’s very clear he doesn’t know what to do.

You pull away for air, Peter’s pupils blow wide before looking at the floor. His head feels like it’s spinning, the girl he’s always wanted, wants him right back. Peter feels very aware of his surroundings, how hard his heart is pounding, how you’re holding him to you, how you’re tracing his bottom lip with your thumb, how you’re leaning back in, how he’s holding you into him.

You take the lead, it’s slow but you build his confidence, he’s a quick learner.

In minutes you’re nearly laid back on the kitchen counter, you’re about to suggest he takes it to his bedroom, but the thought of breaking away from his kiss keeps you stationary. Peter’s locked to you too, your legs hooked around his waist, keeping him as close as he could get.

All you can think is Peter, Peter, Peter.

He claims he doesn’t know much, but it feels like he’s intune with your body. Peter matches you perfectly, you never knew a makeout session could bring so much tension. A moan pulls from the back of your throat when his thumb peeks under the cotton of your shirt.

Peter breaks the kiss, little huffs of air billow from your mouth while he kisses down the side of your neck. When he finds the spot that makes you squirm he nibbles gently, a hand tangled at the back of his hair lets him know he’s doing something right.

Especially when you arch into his touch as his hand confidently slides under your shirt, digging his fingers into the plush skin over your ribcage. “Fuck, Peter,” it’s breathy and eggs him on, he wants to hear nothing but that for the rest of his life.

Caught up in the moment neither of you heard the door, or noticed the third person in the room, until shock spewed from their mouth.

“Oh, wow!”

Peter rips himself away, his instinct is to hide your face into his chest. You’re grateful, it saves the embarrassment of looking his aunt in the eye after she watched you fold under his hands. Peter’s mind is racing, his only priority was keeping you comfortable.

Fuck, he kisses so sweet. Shut up!

“Hey, May. Get anything good at the farmers market?”

Blatant ignorance and casual conversation was the route he took, and it seemed to have worked. Cloth bags hit the counter, you stay hidden, Peter’s hand pressed into the back of your head. He’s sturdy, your head lays perfect on his sternum, it was made for you. No, stop.

“Yes! I got more of that european bread we really liked.” As much as you would like to be ignored, May wouldn’t let you. A pat on your knee sent your arms curling around Peter’s waist, he tried his best to settle the clench of his heart.

Fits perfect, fits perfect, fits-

“You’d love it, it’s roasted garlic, real pieces too!”

It may be rude to ignore the owner of a home, but you weren’t looking at her for another ten lightyears. At least you give a muffled response into Peter’s chest, “sounds good.” May giggles a little, you hear the fridge open and rustling.

“Are you gonna hide from me forever?”

If Peter could play pretend, so could you. You pushed him away softly, “Peter made brownie cookies.” May raises an eyebrow, directing her attention towards her nephew. “Ever since that first plate of cookies Peter’s been baking like it’s his job.”

He’s perfect.

“You made the cookies?” Peter had told you May did, you’re sure of it. He nods quickly, “I figured if I told you, you’d think they were poisoned.”

You want his touch, you want him pressed into you again. This has to stop.

It’s dramatic, but you’ll bite. “Smart boy.” Peter has a gleam in his eye, “I really am.”

May knows when she’s third wheeling, she makes an excuse to move to the living room, Peter nods towards his room. You accept his hand down and look behind you at the door. He was frustratingly magnetic, you wanted to do nothing more than fall into bed and stay forever attached to his lips.

It was a new rush of feelings, most of them new and almost dangerous. You wanted to explore and learn and take some of Natalie Greene’s advice and grow. But more than wanting, you knew you had to leave.

You were still healing, and if it hurt this bad with him, where nothing felt like this, you can’t imagine the burn this could leave.

“I should go,” you can’t look him in the eye, he’d suck you back in. You’d never be able to leave, you have to leave.

“Is this because of May? Cause we can leave and..” You shake your head fast and take a step back, he’s too kind, too understanding, too new and thrilling and, and… loving. You don’t deserve him or what he brings, you can’t bear the imagination of what his heartbreak would feel like.

“No, not May.” There was only one thing that kept you from him before, you were still pulling the same childish tricks. Something about Peter Parker caused you irrational terror.

“I told you, you shouldn’t have done that.”

Peter tries to look at you, you take another step back. “You asked if I wanted to do it again.” He can’t use logic, it won’t work here. “That didn’t mean do it again.”

“You sure? Cause it really seemed like you wanted me to do it again.” You feel choked for air, he’s backing you into a corner.

“You understood wrong. I need to leave.” Your footsteps paused when Peter called out your name, a timid look over your shoulder made him continue.

“Don’t do this. I know what you’re doing, and it doesn’t end well for either of us. We’re not eight anymore.” Your game was called, you didn’t want to do this, you don’t want to be mean. Why did he have to make you do this to him?

“Desperation isn’t a good look on you.”

Peter crosses his arms over his chest, his tongue swipes over his top teeth before poking out his cheek. “Of course it isn’t.” You’re very aware that he expected this to happen, he expected you to push him away and close the gates. If he did, then he shouldn’t have kissed you. He brought this on himself.

“Nothing is.” What’s a final blow if only to tie the bow on no future contact? Peter took a deep breath and gives you the escape you were looking for, “I’ll see you later.” You shake your head, “no, you won’t.”

The hallway is cold and so is your heart. Removing Peter as a potential threat didn’t do much, somehow you think it feels worse than what it would be like to love and then lose him.

Too bad he wasn’t worth the risk.

You knew dinner was going to be awkward. You did your best to get out of it but it was deemed impossible, you were about to gouge your eyes out of your head just for a solid excuse. But your mom said that you weren’t allowed to do that. So you didn’t.

Peter on the other hand, looked like he was having the time of his life. Especially when May shot you a wink across the table when he reached over your plate. You threatened your eye with a fork, your mom gave you a nasty glare.

“Butter, please?”

You cross your arms and scoff, “get it yourself, penis.” Your mom gasped out your name, appalled you would say something like that. She told you to look him in the eye and apologize, using his real name. Peter showed no reaction, chewing on a buttered biscuit.

“I’m sorry for calling you a penis, Peter.” It was the least authentic apology he’s ever heard.

“Aw, let them be kids, they’re in love.”

Your knife hits your plate so hard it chips, Peter chokes on his bite, crumbs fall from his mouth as he tries to speak as fast as he can. “No, no, May… no.”

You feel the walls closing in, the more you run from it, the more it’s announced. You can’t win. It’s brutal silence on your end, you’re shutting down into a shell of a human.

“Oh? I thought after-”

Peter has your back. “After we made pizza? It was one time, May. It wasn’t like I planned it, it just happened. We were hanging out and I just really wanted pizza and I didn’t really stop to think if she wanted pizza, I just made it.”

May plays right along, and asks you directly. “Does that mean you’re not coming over for pizza anymore?” Does that mean you’re not dating my nephew anymore?

Peter already knows the answer, he just wonders if it’s different if his aunt asks.

“The last pizza I had burned to a crisp in the oven and it tasted really, really bad. And if that was a pizza I thought I loved, I can’t imagine how bad it would’ve been if it was my favorite.”

Your mother has never seen you so passionate about pizza. May quirks an eyebrow, she looks at Peter while she asks.

“You don’t trust Peter in the kitchen?”

You’re doing your best to ignore Peter’s eyes on the side of your face, you’re trying to pretend you’re not being vulnerable.

“He’s the only person who could burn it all down.”

May clicks her tongue, she’s more focused on cutting up her dinner. “For what it’s worth, as Peter’s aunt, he’s a great chef. He takes his time in the kitchen, he doesn’t mind waiting for the yeast to bloom. Because when the dough is ready, he’s really gentle at scooping it up and helping it turn into whatever it needs to be.”

You turn to Peter, he gives a shy smile. “You’re not scared of burning yourself?”

A shrug, “It’s a precaution you take each time you cook, but from what I’ve learned, burns heal.”

“Scars don’t.”

Peter tilts his head, “they fade over time, don’t they?”

May speaks up, she’s looking right at you. It goes past the depth of high school love, it goes to the deepest mark one could leave on a heart. A lover lost too soon.

“They do.”

WEEK FOUR

Peter Parker has been on your mind for four days, (and nights,) straight. Each morning you wake at 3:02 and hear his muffled metronome. You’ve gotten avoiding him down to a T. The first morning you woke up early to watch him leave, then planned a ten minute window in case he was running late one day, and left around that.

You’ve been successful so far. But there was an underlying tug that wanted to be caught, you wanted him to hold you close to him and tell you that he wasn’t going anywhere and nothing safe is worth the risk.

Is that why you let yourself be caught by him this morning?

“Good morning,” it was shot over his shoulder while he locked the door. You grumbled out to him, Peter doesn’t mind you didn’t use words, you were directing expression towards him and that’s enough. “Wanna walk together?”

The idea sends flutters to the middle of your stomach, a brief image of his hand in yours while your hip bumps against his every so often and you laugh at whatever he tells you takes over your mind. “If you want to walk near me while we go to the same location, that’s on you.”

Peter’s hot on your heels down the steps, “that’s a total yes.” You ignore him and try to subtly shut the main door on him, it doesn’t work. “How have you been?” Walking faster, you hope he catches the hint. Peter matches pace perfectly- damn him and his puberty bus and his big strides.

“Personally, I have been mourning the loss of my favorite neighbor coming over.” Peter blinks at the side of your face while carrying a grin. “I mean you, by the way. In case you needed that hint.”

“Got it. Thanks.” You know you need to pick a side, but something in you won’t let you ignore him.

“Welcome. You know, if you’re free, you’re invited for dinner tonight.” You pout sarcastically, “tell May I’ll miss her presence.” Peter bumps your arm, you feel like dropping to your knees. “She keeps asking about you, I’m running out of excuses.”

You scoff, “excuse what? You can tell her the truth, penis.” Peter almost loses you when you swerve around a stranger’s shoulder, in one second he’s next to you again. “And what would the truth be?”

“You pushed yourself onto me,” you stare at Peter in shock when your wrist was grabbed tightly, you came to a stop on the sidewalk with him. He maneuvered to stand in front of you, noticing every inch he had on you; it seemed like his playful mood vanished.

“Hey, I was just messing with you, okay? I thought you just didn’t want to talk about it, but pushing myself on you is the last thing I want you to think I did. If I made you uncomfortable, I’m really sorry.”

Your features softened, your words sent him into a shame spiral. It was annoying how upset he looked with himself, even if you had to swear him off forever, you didn’t want him to think he sexually harassed you.

“I was kidding, Peter. I don’t think you pushed yourself onto me, you gave me the option to back out and I pulled you in. I’d just rather never speak or think about it ever again.”

A weary smile, “that bad, huh?” You pulled your coat tighter around your chest, the cold making the tip of your nose numb. “Quite the opposite, really.” Before you could fall into temptation and kiss him in the middle of the city, you pulled away to keep heading towards school.

“Can I ask what that means?” You nod, “sure.” You offer up no more explanation.

“Well?” You look at him for a second, “oh, sorry. You can ask all you want, doesn’t mean I’ll tell you.”

“You’re gonna inflate my ego, you’re telling me it was so good you can’t put it into words.”

You give him a side eye, “I wasn’t aware there would be so much talking when I allowed you to walk next to me.”

“That’s not denial…” His cadence was sing-songy.

“You’re in denial.”

Peter shook his head confidently, “I’m not in denial, I am very okay with the fact I like you.”

You came to a halt. He’s not allowed to feel this way, he doesn’t know what it could bring. Has he not seen what love can do to a person? Has he not watched you crumble into a thousand pieces over and over throughout the weeks?

And why did his confession turn every piece of rubble into stained glass?

Peter’s not allowed to like you because reciprocation leads to temptation which bleeds into dating where it comes to a crashing end in heartbreak.

You tried to put on a serious face, but you know Peter sees the mask. “Don’t.” Pointing a finger at his chest, “don’t say that, don’t think that, and sure as shit don’t act on it.”

Peter must think you’re joking because he pushes your hand down before lightly laughing. “Don’t act on it? I already did.” Is that what he did? Did he plan that moment? You thought it was a spur of the moment thing, but maybe he’s been planning it for weeks.

How long has he liked you?

It doesn’t matter. You’ll be the adult and end it before it can start, he doesn’t know what this can do to a person. You can do it nicely, or at least try. Maybe he’d find it more sincere if it comes from the heart.

“Peter, have you ever had your heart broken? Like, really broken? Because I wouldn’t put that on my worst enemy. It’s a type of emotional pain that turns physical, I mean, have you ever been so heartbroken you throw up? Have you ever been so sad you don’t eat for days? Have you ever cried so hard you almost fainted? It’s shit, Peter.”

“But was it worth it?”

Did he not hear anything you just said? “What does that mean?”

Peter adjusts the strap of his backpack, “you loved him, right?” You don’t need to give an answer, he already knows it. “Do you regret it? Even with the heartbreak, did that undo all the good that came out of it all?”

You lick your bottom lip, it’s been a circulating thought. Love opened up doors you didn’t know were closed, in the end it was a beautiful tragedy. But that’s the worst part, with Peter you don’t know what it would feel like. You’ve only had a glimpse and it tells you that it’s something that’s going to change you forever.

If Peter leaves, if Peter cheats, it’ll kill you, it’d be nothing like when he did it and you can’t take the gamble.

It was worth it with him, he made you grow. With Peter you’d take ten steps back and never be the same.

“There isn’t always a silver lining, Peter.” You refuse to answer.

“So, what, you’re never going to fall in love again?” Peter’s matching your pace again, you can’t wait until you’re in the four safe walls of Midtown.

“No, I just can’t fall in love with you.”

“Can’t is a funny word choice.”

“Won’t.” You exhale sharply, “I won’t fall in love with you.”

Peter has no interest in your claim, “it’d be easier if you just said you didn’t like me, but you’re not.”

You don’t have to answer, you can choose to ignore him entirely and you’ll be doing just that.

“I don’t like this conversation anymore and I’m ending it.” It works, only for twenty seconds, but it worked until Peter thinks he has a brilliant idea.

“Break up with me.”

Your steps slow, his did the same. Peter’s hands were tucked in his jacket pockets, the urge to kiss him breathless unmeasurable. You fight past it, “huh?”

“You said I don’t know real heartache, so I want you to break up with me. Right here.” He’s entirely way too amused for you, even the idea makes you feel sick.

“I’m not going to break up with you, Peter. I can’t get another tardy slip.” You keep walking, Peter hopped to keep up. “Ten seconds, just end it.”

“No.”

“C’mon, it’ll be easy. Dump me and break my heart.”

“We’re not dating. I can’t dump you, even if I wanted to.” What happened to ending the conversation?

You hear the smirk when he speaks. “If.”

“I’m not playing your word games, Peter.” Because you’re not.

A laugh, “then break up with me.”

You thought he was supposed to be smart. How has he not gotten any of this, does he think it’s a joke, does he think you’re playing? Peter has no idea what this means, but you do.

Tugging at his elbow, you stop him in his tracks. Staring into his eyes and daring yourself not to get lost, you try to make things extremely clear. “I can’t break up with you, Peter. I barely made it through him. I wouldn’t know how to handle losing you. You’d hurt me too bad and I can’t take that risk.”

Peter’s voice is soft when he answers, you want to close your eyes and have it carry you to heaven. “I can’t break up with you either. You’d be able to hurt me just as bad.” It takes you from your trance, “you would. Because I’m a bad girlfriend. If I wasn’t he wouldn’t have replaced me before he could end it.”

Peter’s eyebrows pull together, you stuff your hands into your coat pockets to keep from smoothing them out. “Hey, woah, let’s pause there. You did nothing wrong. Even if you were a bad girlfriend, and trust me, you weren’t, that would never justify him doing that to you. Nothing could.”

It’s nice of him, but he doesn’t know that. “We didn’t talk, you don’t know I wasn’t a bad girlfriend.” Peter scoffs, like the idea of you calling yourself a bad girlfriend offends him personally. “He made you cry all the time,” the words followed by your name. “Bad girlfriends don’t cry, bad boyfriends make their good girlfriends cry.”

Peter heard you. Every time you cried, every time you felt unloved, every time you sobbed out an ‘I’m sorry’ for something you didn’t know you did. He listened, Peter listened like you did each night. How did you never notice the universal gimmick?

If you think back, most of the bad moments were at the hands of him. And for Peter to notice when you were worlds away from his person, makes your heart wrench inside your chest. You know you already drew the line and there’s no crossing it, but it’s nice living in a moment make believe.

“You’d never be able to call me babe.” It was a shitty pet name. You never liked it.

You get flashed with a toothy grin. “That’s okay, I have a million to choose from.”

Or the obvious hang up, “May would totally hate me too, she knows I’ll take your virginity.” Peter waves you off, “we don’t know that.” You quirk an eyebrow, “we don’t?” Peter corrects himself, “she doesn’t have to know that.”

You chuckle from the back of your throat. “But she will. You wouldn’t be able to hide it. I definitely wouldn’t be able to hide it.” Peter looks down for a second, you follow his gaze, you wonder if you’re both zoned in on a black skid on the side of his shoe. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know. It’s like, you just get a lot more… touchy, I guess. Nothing’s off limits anymore.”

A monotone reply, “yeah, that sounds like a total nightmare.”

It gets too real. Make believe time is over, now you have to be an adult and stick to your guns.

“It wouldn’t work between us, Peter.”

You feel sad, there’s no good answer and both of you would be left with a bruise. He wanted more than you’d let yourself give and you wanted more than you’d let yourself have. Peter was right, you could hurt him just as bad, and you’d never forgive yourself.

Peter made himself a constant, someone you could really rely on the last few weeks, and if you lose that you don’t know how you’d ever be okay again.

“If you think so.” His kind smile doesn’t meet his eyes. It’s a quiet journey the rest of the way, both of you receiving a tardy slip and parting ways in the hall without a word or glance.

Peter Parker had gotten his wish. You just broke his heart.

This was all Natalie Greene’s fault. If she wasn’t stuck states away at a funeral she would’ve held you accountable and used every means necessary to stop you from going to Peter’s.

It could also be Peter’s fault. He should’ve never kissed you like he did, he should’ve never made your heart beat with purpose and left a sear where he touched. Doesn’t he know you could never forget it?

It also didn’t help that you were drunk. Not drunk enough to be slamming into walls and slurring words, but enough to stop that part in your brain to hold you back from the things you truly wanted. Like your neighbor.

It had been three days of nothing and that wasn’t Peter’s choice. He respected your decisions too much. If you didn’t want him in your life, he wouldn’t be. Doesn’t he know that just makes you want him more?

Peter wasn’t at the party, you didn’t expect him to be, but you were a little hopeful he’d surprise you and show up. He didn’t. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t on your mind with each shot you took, or when you stopped for pizza with a group of friends, when everyone teased you for pineapple but you knew Peter wouldn’t.

You grabbed him a slice of pepperoni without thinking. Or maybe you were. It was an excuse to talk to him, to see him, to touch him. You could take it home and reheat it in the morning, or you could lean into your excuse of a few too many and knock on his door.

It’s Peter’s fault. He really shouldn’t have kissed you like that, he doesn’t understand his power.

Harsh banging. It’s over your head how late it is, you have important things to do. Like, lay over his body in his bed like you kiss down his neck, or squirm with harsh whimpers when he kisses down yours. You bet he likes to cuddle too, he never did, but Peter seems like he couldn’t get enough of you.

If you couldn’t date Peter you could use him as a rebound, right?

Faster knocking, why isn’t he answering? At your loudest, the door opens. He was sleeping, you could tell by the puffy eyes but you didn’t look at his face too long, no, Peter was in nothing but a pair of boxers.

When the fuck did he get so toned? You would’ve reached out for a light graze, but he stopped you.

“You’re so lucky May’s on overnight duty.” No, you’re lucky because he’s half naked and sleepy, you’ve never seen anyone so tempting. It feels like you’re dying and only he could save you.

You can’t help it, your palm connects with his chest, it’s there longer than a second. It’s less about pushing him aside and more about touching him, and he knows that. Peter talks at a normal volume for the hour, “what are you doing here?”

Your thumb traces his collarbones, “I brought you pizza.” Your breath skips when he turns his head to the side to check the time on the microwave in the kitchen, his jawline ultra toned.

“At one in the morning?” Peter’s amused, you don’t think he would’ve ever been so kind if you disrupted his sleep. You nod, “I was thinking of you.” You raise the small box, just as proof as you really did get him a slice.

Peter takes it with a smile. “Thanks, kid.” You don’t know why, but you really like that one.

“Can I come in?” If he thought all you wanted was to share a midnight snack, he was terribly mistaken. The door widened in response, you made sure to brush against his side, he said nothing.

Following him into the kitchen, you have a flashback. It’s one you want to reenact, maybe if you sit in the same spot he’ll catch the drift. A blue wave of light washes over him when his snack is stored for morning, he looks angelic.

You don’t think you’ve ever been this fascinated with him.

“Now I understand all the song references about refrigerator lights.” Peter looks over his shoulder, his grin makes you feel like you’re flying. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He emerges with two water bottles, cracking the lid on yours and passing it over. His rests on the counter. He doesn’t need water but you do and he’s not about to make you feel singled out.

You think it might be too late. You think you might already be falling.

“I don’t know, but I just get it.” He’s letting you do all the talking, it’s odd, you’re not used to being listened to. If Peter realizes what you’re doing, he says nothing. Maybe you just have to point it out.

You gesture to yourself, the real reason you came over finally announced.

“Do you see where I’m sitting?”

Peter nods, “I do.”

Your fingers tap on the countertop, “remember the last time I sat here?” Peter breathes deep, you wonder if he’s thinking about it right now. “I do.”

You wait. He makes no move. Where’s your kiss?

“Well? Are you gonna do it again?” You pucker for good measure, just in case there was an inkling of uncertainty on his end. You’re making it clear what you want. A faulty smile, you don’t like it one bit.

“No,” at least he sounds sorry about it. But he likes you, he told you himself, why would he deny you? Doesn’t he know how much you need this?

“Why not? If you think this is a trick, it’s not. If you want, I’ll kiss you first.” You jump down but you’re held back by a hand, he’s literally pushing you away. It’s a feeling that causes a tug, you really don’t like it.

“You’re drunk,” Peter follows the statement with your name, he’s not mean but he’s also not going to change his mind.

You scoff, buzzed would be more accurate. “I’m not drunk.”

“Drunk enough you’re allowing yourself to have this conversation.”

He has a very fair point.

“Liquid courage, kiss me?” Peter shakes his head, “you made it clear nothing would happen, so nothing is going to happen.”

You grin, “consider it practice then.” Your words make him frown, “you don’t want this.” Who is he to tell you what you do or don’t want?

“How do you know I don’t want this?”

“Because this isn’t you.”

You feel a tightness in your chest, he doesn’t get to think he knows you more than you do. “You don’t know me, Peter. You just have an idea of me.”

“You’re hurt and confused. I won’t take advantage of that, being mad at me won’t make me change my mind.”

Where was his care coming from? He didn’t care about you this much and neither should Peter. It wasn’t normal, was it? But it’s also not fair to compare Peter to him at every chance, especially because Peter only ever seems to outshine.

“Why didn't you act like this a year ago?” If he truly cares, where was it before?

“You mean when you had a boyfriend?”

Is that why he waited until now to be a friend? Did he think you’d be sad and have weak defense, making it easy for him to get first in line? “Is that what it is? You waited until I was dumped to put on this act and lay it on me while I’m all confused? How long have you had this planned out?”

Your words are like daggers, the things you’re alluding to, he would never do them. Ever.

“Don’t. I’ve always liked you but you had a boyfriend and the last thing on my mind was trying to get with you when it ended. You were so miserable, I just wanted to be a friend or something, but it changed and maybe a little piece of it was me being selfish. I made the first move, several times. I kissed you, I asked you out, I told you I liked you. And you said no. I respect your no, why don’t you?”

You could tell him the truth, tell him that he was right and his love terrified you because you haven’t felt something so raw before in your entire life. Peter wasn’t yours, or anywhere close to it. It shouldn’t be natural to feel magnetized to him.

You could tell him the truth, but you’re better at hiding behind false walls.

“I liked you better when you didn’t care about me.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way.”

He knows you’re lying but he won’t make you admit it, no, he’ll push you into your corner of lies until you force your way out with the truth. Peter Parker will not chase you.

Would it be wrong to push him so far away he wouldn’t let you chase him too?

“You have a superiority complex. That’s why you can’t find a girlfriend, or any friend really. You think you’re better than everyone else and it’s a natural repellent.” You back up towards the door, you spit words as they come to your mind.

“I was willing to do it. I was willing to give you a shot but you ruined it for yourself. You’re going to look back on this moment and regret it.”

Peter really doesn’t care for your dramatics. It’s impressive he can one, handle it and two, make you check yourself. “Regret not taking advantage of a drunk girl? Is that what you’re insinuating?”

“No! I just meant that… I don’t know what I mean, Peter! I don’t know anything and you’re not helping in the slightest and everything about you makes me want to fucking cry or scream or, or… I don’t know.” Your voice trails, it’s the most honest you’ve been in weeks.

“I don’t know anything anymore, Peter.”

Everything you’ve ever thought about love has been wrong.

He made you feel flightless. But Peter, Peter made you feel free. Peter made you feel like you were flying at full speed, like the wind washes over your cheeks so harshly you’re in a permanent grin. You’ve never seen the world from this high up, in this much color, it’s never been so beautiful.

The flight is amazing, thinking about stopping it hurts you. How would it feel to be on the ground again, to walk around, to be without wings and treetops and colors and wind? How would it feel to be without Peter?

Would it feel like an agonizing death?

Would your wings ever be patchable again?

Questions that make you realize the closer you get to him, the harder you’ll hit the ground. You’re okay with falling, you’re able to brace yourself the best way you can. But will Peter be there to catch your landing?

It looks like he’s trying to stop himself from hugging you, it’s a good thing he is. He might be thinking you’d yell or push him away, you think you’d just cry.

Peter looks tired, and more than just because you woke him up. You wonder if it’s because he’s up late every other night, you want to ask him about the routine and why he broke it tonight. You won’t.

Your back hits the door, there was only one thing you were sure of, it had been a chain reaction since. This was Peter’s fault, he’s the one that kissed you. He started it.

“You shouldn't have kissed me, you really, really shouldn’t have. You’ve fucked this all up, penis.”

Peter’s tired of the blame. “You came here,” he ends it with your name, like he’s pleading.

It’s annoying, at least you tell yourself it is. If you can replace feelings with antonyms you’ll trick your brain and you’ll be right on track to hating him again and only seeing him as a void object.

You open the door, it’s the last time you’ll allow yourself to look at his face.

It’s Peter’s fault.

“Because you made me want to.”

WEEK FIVE.

It’s way too early for the hysteric buzz of a mosquito in your ear, yet, it still sings to you while you’re locking your front door.

“Good morning.”

You nod your head, “penis.”

And just like that, the mosquito’s squashed.

You yawn so harshly that you rub at your jaw. You’re unable to sleep and miserable. You’ve tried everything under the moon and stars, nothing worked. Staring up at the ceiling you tried to count sheep but they kept turning into the tiny freckles that dotted over Peter’s cheeks.

It wasn’t fair to keep thinking about him, you’re doing your part. You cut him out and you decided to hate him. You’re just finding out that that’s not how it works.

3:02, you hear his window.

3:04, your eyes finally get heavy.

3:07, you’re dozing off.

3:10, you’re asleep.

It wasn’t fair.

Three nights later, It’s 3:02 in the morning and a window slams shut. This time, it isn’t your neighbors. This time, it was your own. You should be scared, but you don’t feel threatened, you’re curious. You pull your head from under your pillow.

Spider-Man is at the foot of your bed, his shoulder hits the window frame when he pulls his mask off. He’s racing for air, he looks beat up, a gash crossed over his chest.

If you didn’t have as much distain as you did, you’d be slightly shocked.

“If you get blood on my carpet, I will fucking kill you.”

Peter must be dizzy, because he’s imagining you in his room.

"Seriously, if you get blood on my carpet I'll have you come over tomorrow and scrub it out with your toothbrush."

Peter tries to swallow, it's hard to do. His head feels like a brick, his hands won't stop shaking.

“Hey, pesky pete, I mean it. Get the fuck outta here.”

When he holds his eyes close, then opens them, he still sees you there. Peter looks down at his hands, turning them back and forth. They go in and out of focus, it’s dizzying, at one point he has five hands.

He says your name questioningly, it’s hard to get words off his tongue, his brain is moving too slow. “Yup, that’s me. Now get out.” Peter touches his chest, it’s beet red. His shoulder is killing him, he stumbles and slams into the wall- now you’re sitting up in bed.

“Peter, are you okay?” It’s pure worry, the act is dropped for a second, he’s not normal. He’s not answering, you think he’s trying but he can’t bring himself to speak, he’s lagging in real time. One foot hits the floor, the rest of you perched in your bed keeping an eye on his frame.

“Peter.” You need his focus on you.

He presses his hand to his wound, a last ditch effort to protect your carpet. Then, he hits the floor. You jump up, “Peter? Peter, are you okay? Peter,” he’s passed out and tore up to shreds. Every bit of you wants to scoop him into your lap and hold him tight, but instead, you get to work.

Peter flies up from the bed gasping for air, his face is cold and wet. The source is your twisted grin above him, a water glass held tightly.

“Oh, good. You’re up.”

Peter pats his chest, a blur of last night follows. He sits up in a haste, a tug in his side makes him cradle it, you both wince at the same time.

“Yeah, I tried doing the best I could, but I wasn’t sure if there was something under that.. Or how to take it off. You probably have significant damage.”

“Thanks.” His mouth is dry and his voice crackly, it sends a zing up your spine. Peter’s never felt so weak after a rough night, his head is pounding and he can feel the crunch of dried blood under his suit.

“Can I get some of that or are you still punishing me?” The only reason you give him the rest of the glass is because you like Spider-Man. He has a job to do, Peter on the other hand, could die of thirst.

“You passed out on me last night.”

Peter chugs the glass, you almost think about getting him another. “I did.”

You nod, “I had to lug you up here, you’re extremely heavy when you’re dead weight.” He almost smiles at the imagery, instead he glances down and realizes you did your best attempt at working on the gashes over his chest and arms through the spandex.

Even as he was passed out and rendered useless. You must not hate him as much as you say. It's still nice to know he's not getting special treatment because of who he is, not even Spider-Man could make you like Peter.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have excellent bedside manner?”

“Oh no, anything I could do to make it worse?”

“I think another water and some advil might kill me.”

“Perfect, coming right up.”

Peter takes another ten minutes before trying to sit up, “I should go home and shower.” Your hand gently pushes his shoulder back down, “easy, tiger. May isn’t home and you’re not about to turn your shower into a personal slip and slide.”

Before you could regret the words, “if you want a shower, you’re doing it here.” He paused under your touch, scared you made the wrong impression, your eyes widened. “Not with me or anything, I just meant so you’d have someone around.”

Peter doesn’t care how it has to get done, he wants the suit and dried blood off him. He nods his head and sits up a little slower before tugging at his neckline. You look away for a minute, unsure where to settle your eyes.

“Help me get my arm out?” Your hands pull at the suit, his arm escapes, it’s covered in small knicks. It’s a subconscious move, you gently tap the cuts with your thumb. Peering into his eyes you hold a frown.

“Does it hurt?”

Peter feels like you might kiss his marks. “Not really, it’s mostly my side.”

You rub his chest, “you got a gash right here.” It’s over his heart.

“Guess we’re twinsies now.”

If he wasn’t in pain, you’d slap his arm for the comment. Instead, you watch him carefully remove the red and blue until he’s left in his boxers. You do your best to keep your eyes on his face, Peter looks amused.

“You’re trying really hard not to look at me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Parker.” You offer a hand to pull him up, he accepts. A slow stand, his back’s more defined than his front, you almost bite your fist. Peter has the same shower as you, but you still explain how to use it. And allow him to use your products.

“Got it.” The tap is turned on, the water hits against the ceramic. You make no effort to move, instead watching for a moment. Peter’s fingers pull at the waistline of his briefs, your eyes dart right to them.

“You know, this is the part where most people leave.” It’s teasing.

“I just wanted to make sure you got in okay, it’s a high step.” It’s a quarter of the truth.

“I’ll be alright, I’ve been doing this alone for a few years.” Peter says it like it’s an inside joke, but it just makes you feel sad. He’s never had someone to be there for him, or patch up his wounds, or make sure he’s okay to shower. You wonder how many times he’s passed out on his bedroom floor with no one to drag him to bed.

“You okay?” A hand on your skin wakes you back up, clearing your mind of Peter.

You nod, it was a flash of empathy. You couldn’t imagine what it’s like for him.

“I’m just sorry you’ve had to do it all alone. It doesn’t seem fair, Spider-Man does nothing but take care of other people. He should have someone to take care of him for a change.”

It may sound like you’re insinuating, especially the way he looks at you when he responds.

“Yeah. That’d be nice.”

Seconds tick, it’s getting a little weird, mostly because you want to tackle him into the shower and race your mouth over every inch of skin. You clear your throat, “you want me to get you anything from your place?”

“Sure. Go shopping for me.”

You use the copied key May left for you several years ago when you tended to some plants while her and Peter went on vacation, and it feels weird being in their home alone. It’s too quiet, the Parker’s are expressive in everything they do, when they're not around everything lacks passion.

Peter’s bedroom is almost the same as it was the last time you were in it, the same furniture but moved around. His posters looked updated and there’s a few extra awards he’s tucked away, you frown, he should be proud of his achievements and hang them high.

A new picture of him and May from last year, you ignore the part of your brain that says he has very kissable cheeks. His closet is clean and he’s made it easy for you to search around, each drawer is dedicated to a different clothing and everything that should be hung up, is.

It’s something you hadn’t considered, but a man taking care of his laundry creates an entire new standard.

Peter handed over the control when you said to get what you wanted, that means you can dress him how you please. And wouldn’t he look yummy in sweatpants and a white shirt? You don’t see how he couldn’t, it’s the male version of a sundress.

Arms full of cotton, you tap at the bathroom door with your foot. You shout over the water, “I have your clothes.” It’s muffled but you hear him and gently push the door open, a faint outline on the shower curtain suddenly makes you shy.

“They’re right here,” patting the clothes for good measure. Peter shoots out a ‘thanks!’ and you slowly back out until you’re sitting patiently on your bed, listening closely when the tap turns off. If he goes falling, you’re busting the door down.

No struggles, at least not until he emerges. Peter’s fine, but you’re speechless and choked. There was no one you punished but yourself with the outfit, the t-shirt is tight on his arms and the sweatpants hug his hips just right.

“I feel human again, thanks, kid.” You turn on manual breathing mode and distantly nod, his biceps are stretching the cotton, you lick your lips subconsciously. “No problem.” You watch a water droplet fall from his hair to his shoulder, your eyes stay hooked in place, his arms flexed when he dried it with the towel you lended him.

“Where should I put this?” You point to your hamper, if he put it anywhere else you’d be half tempted to sniff it. “Did you tell May I was here?” You nod and finally find strength to talk to him, “yeah. I sent her a text last night, I wasn’t sure of her Spider-Man knowledge so it was a little cryptic.” You take a breath and choose honesty, no doubt he’d get a third degree.

“I think she interpreted it as us hooking up.” Another breath, “I did not correct her.”

Peter has a boyish smile spread, it squeezes your chest, you want him in your hold more than anything. “Nice.” You scream and cheer and thank your lucky stars when he sits next to you. He used your products, but he still smells like Peter. You want to stuff your nose into his shirt and breathe him in until you physically can’t.

“May knows, by the way.” You nod absentmindedly, “anyone else?” “A couple friends.” You almost make a quip like ‘wow, you have friends?’ but you really can’t find it in you to pretend to hate him anymore. Especially when he almost died on your floor and all you wanted to do was tell him that you were sorry and you were mostly in love with him.

“Can I ask a question?”

“Shoot.”

“Do the webs come out of you?” Peter lightly laughs, it’s always the same question off the bat. “No. I make a special web fluid and I have these bracelet kind of things to shoot them out.”

“Oh. Cool.” You’re hiding the burn in your lower stomach at the thought of him over his desk creating a new form of technology. He’s so fucking smart it’s unfair, he’s too smart for his own good.

He’s grinning at you, “is it?” You can’t stop staring at his mouth, “yeah.” You’d do anything to kiss him again, the last time you truly felt alive was when his lips were on yours. “Any other questions?” There’s one. But it’s not about Spider-Man.

“Not really.” Your interest could be explored later, right now, all you needed was him. Peter finds it surprising, “I think you are the least curious person to find out about this.” You shrug, shifting your body more towards him. Peter rejected you last time but if you move like he did when he kissed you, if you move in slow for the kill, you might just get your way.

“Give me the cliff notes.” Peter starts ticking them off with his fingers, while he’s distracted you move in closer. “Bit by a radioactive spider when I was fifteen. Heightened senses plus a cool sixth sense where I can sense danger. Super strength-” You stop listening right there, your eyes are all over his build, no fucking wonder he’s a contender for worlds fittest man.

You shuffle in, your knee brushes his thigh, if he notices, he doesn’t say anything. You thank the sweatpants, the material too thick to give you away. “-Oh, and I stopped needing my glasses which is pretty cool. I think that’s pretty much it, but if you want me to expand on anyth…”

Now or never.

You push up and straddle Peter’s waist, his hands immediately hold your hips. You lean down, his grip tightens. Peter mumbles out your name, you answer with a slow kiss. Your fingers drag through his hair, curls wrap themselves around your fingers, you hold them tight. When Peter licks your bottom lip, when Peter takes control, you need to feel every bit of him.

Your hands fall down his neck and over his shoulders, then they fall to his arms, your nails lightly drag up the skin. A hum from Peter, your lower stomach clenches, you answer with a roll of your hips, he sighs into your mouth. You drag your palms over his chest, his heart is at the same pace as yours.

You break the kiss, both of you breathing fast, it doesn’t last. You kiss over his jawline, you can’t hold it in, you can’t fucking stop yourself. “You’re so fucking hot,” wet marks are dotted down his neck. “I wanna take you right here, I wanna make you feel so good.” Another grind, this time, Peter moves with you, it pulls a moan from the back of your throat. The favor returned with a hickey at the bottom of his neck, it sent him falling into your hold.

You’re kissing anywhere you can reach, “you gotta stop,” it comes out in a puff. “You’re killing me here.” Too bad, not so sad, you’re latched onto his mouth again, this time, you tug at the bottom of his shirt, it takes three times before you realize he’s not catching the hint and you pull it up yourself.

You study him when it goes flying, his eyes are more pupil than brown, his lips pouty and pulling a red hue. “Lay back,” he does, you lean over him, you’re marking up his collarbones while his hand has a fistful of your hair. Then… the kisses get lower, you're grazing over his chest, delicate brushes across the semi-healed cuts, you must’ve blocked out the advanced healing perk.

Your hand trails over his side, you soak in the grooves and muscle, your fingers brushing against the waistband of his sweatpants. Peter’s breathing hitches, you keep teasing, then bring your lower body into play. Bumps and grinds have Peter panting in your mouth, you pull back, even as he’s heaving for air, Peter’s trying to follow your kiss.

Your fingers slip further under the elastic, holding his gaze when you tell him about your intentions. “I wanna suck you off.”

There’s a pause, then he sits up on his elbows.

“Does this mean you want to be my girlfriend?” Does it? You don’t think so. You just want him, you want his mouth and his hands and his body intertwined with yours. But to fall into him and have him see all your worst parts, to have him hold your heart between his hands and trust he’d take care of it is too much.

“No.”

He’s sad. It’s not just something you think, it’s something you know. Your heart tumbles with his face. You want to hug him, you try, but he tossed you off his lap like nothing.

“May told me to get groceries today, so I should probably head out.” You swallow tightly, you’re not liking how this is sounding. “Are you mad at me?” You feel nothing but shame at his sigh, it’s debilitating when you hear his cutthroat tone. “I’m not a fucking rebound.” But he wanted to be. He wanted this. He wanted you.

Peter doesn’t use the f word, not ever.

“Whether I’m your girlfriend or sucking your dick, you’d still be a rebound.” Silence rings around the room. Peter’s voice is tight when he answers you.

“Is that all you think of me? Just a rebound?”

You don’t know how to be honest with him. You never have. “Would I be wrong?”

“Very.” It’s clipped. You’ve never heard Peter with an edge and you don’t like it. You really don’t like being on the other side of his frustration. He’s only ever been soft and kind with you, you can’t handle any more change in your life. You need Peter to keep being Peter.

You were so scared of losing him you went and filled his head up with words of affirmation, used your mouth on him, then turned around and shut him down. If this is only a fraction of how it stings when Peter’s upset you don’t know if you could handle more. You’ve never felt Peter’s cold shoulder before and it hurts.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.” It’s bullshit, Peter can sense it too. “You did.” You chew on your bottom lip, “I did, but not like that.” Peter seems taller than normal when he’s standing over you, you can’t look him in the face, it’s nothing but being mortified. You really put your foot in your mouth.

“Do you even like me or are you just horny?” You can’t allow yourself to answer him.

“I’m an idiot.” Your face turns in, Peter’s laughing at himself. “I’m such an idiot. I really thought you liked me. I thought you were trying to fight it but no, that was just me daydreaming.” You’re looking up at him but he’s already standing at the door with his shirt on and suit tucked under his arm.

“You don’t like me. You never did and now I’m trying to make pieces fit where they don’t.” He’s staring right into your eyes, he says it louder, he’s saying it for himself. “I’m not a rebound.”

“You’ve never been properly loved and it shows.”

And that’s the most brutal thing he could’ve ever said to you. Your lower lip trembles with the tears pricking at your eyes, he started it and you can’t stop it.

“I fucking hate you. I hate you so fucking much, Peter.”

No surprises there. “Yeah, I know.” He sounds just as defeated.

When he leaves you cry harder for Peter than you ever did him, and that says something. But you’re not listening.

WEEK SIX.

You finally broke down and told everything to Natalie Greene. She held you in her arms while you cried about losing what you could’ve had. “I’m sure he’ll come around babe, he likes you a lot.” You shake your head, “not anymore. He hasn’t answered any of my texts in three days.”

You can at least give yourself the benefit of trying to do damage control. He wouldn’t let you. You’d sent a flurry of texts, each one more apologetic than the next, begging him for a chance to see you but he refused.

You think you broke him.

“Have you tried talking to him? In person?” You shake your head, he doesn’t want to talk to you. You blew everything up and for the first time you really hate it. Two weeks ago you were begging for this but now you just feel terrible.

“Nat, this is nothing like what I had with him and I don’t know what that means.” Your friend hugged you close, “it means you love him more than you ever did him.” You swallow hard, you knew the truth but it was different hearing it.

It doesn’t matter anymore. You ruined it and Peter won’t talk to you anymore.

“You should’ve seen the look on his face, Nat. He was fucking crushed. It’s like…” You take in a sharp breath, you’ve been beating yourself up over it since he walked out. “It’s like I used him.” Natalie Greene doesn’t bullshit but she’s still soft as ever with her response, it’s purred out while her acrylics scratch your back. “You did.”

She’s your best friend. She should be on your side. “But I didn’t! I just-”

“Yeah, you did. You knew how he felt about you and you said no so he stopped trying. Then you showed up drunk and threw yourself at him, he said no and you got all butthurt. Then he comes over and somehow passes out on your floor and you offer him a blowjob.”

Well, when she puts it like that…

“Of course he’s going to think you flipped your script, you’re the one who kept pushing after you told him no.” Peter’s words echo in your mind, ‘I respect your no, so why don’t you?’ Because you can’t allow yourself to have him, that’s why. But… you already do, don’t you? Or, you did.

“He’s gonna wreck me, Nat. He already is.”

“Because you’re fighting it. I get it, babe, I’ve been where you are a dozen times. But you don’t get over heartbreak by hiding from love. I know it’s Peter Parker and he’s been your enemy since you were eight, but no matter how fast you try to run, he’s right there matching your stride.”

You sniff into her arm, she smells like lavender and it makes you snuggle further. “I think I’ve always liked him.” You could finally admit it. Natalie’s been there for months, years possibly. “I know. You always talk about him.”

You scrunch your eyebrows, “no I don’t.” Natalie thinks you must’ve said a funny joke because she’s laughing like it. “Yeah you do. Sure, it might have been mean things but if you truly hate someone you don’t notice everything they do.”

You noticed everything about Peter and made sure to fill Natalie Greene in on the gossip.

Like when he cut his hair way too short in middle school and his curls disappeared for months.

When he slipped in mashed potatoes in the cafeteria and fumbled until he could steady himself.

When his cheeks flamed pink because he forgot to silence his phone during a test and the Game of Thrones theme song blasted through the room as he awkwardly tried to silence the call.

Then there’s the time he stuttered when giving an answer in biology because Lindsey Snipes was twirling her hair at him. A small tug in your stomach, the answer suddenly clear to why you’ve always hated her too.

And when he bumped a friend's coke all over his notebook and he just watched with an open mouth while all his hard work was ruined.

When he stumbled up the steps.

When he hit his head with his locker.

When he stepped on his glasses.

When he was tackled in flag football.

When he tripped over his shoelace.

When he got glue in his hair.

When he winced while dissecting a frog.

When he cracked his phone because he dropped it and a guy on the football team kicked it clear across the cafeteria while he laughed. That one didn’t make you laugh. That one made you so angry you made a point to tell Kristina, said player's girlfriend, so she could give him a well deserved tongue lashing. And not the good kind.

When he fell asleep at the library and had a red mark on his cheek to prove it.

When he spit milk everywhere because the one he grabbed was expired.

When, no matter what, each time you met his eyes he’d send you a smile. And how each time there was something that made you want to give it back.

“Natalie,” you can hear it in your voice. It’s dangerous. It’s terrifying.

It’s worth it.

“I think I’m in love with Peter Parker.”

Natalie Greene and you had carefully conducted Operation: Get Peter Back.

Step one: Tell him, (IN PERSON) how you feel.

Step two: See above.

There were no other steps. Natalie Greene told you that’s all you could do.

One day later you knocked at his door before you could lose the small amount of courage you had, it’s soft enough you hope it’s unnoticeable, you could quit and say you tried. Your heartbeat’s in the bottom of your throat, your palms itch as you rub them over your shirt.

A smidge of relief, no one heard you. You’re about to quietly escape, May doesn’t let you off that easily. She’s surprised when your name comes from her mouth, you wonder how much she knows. “Hi, May. Is Peter home?” She’s got a weak poker face, her eyes dart to the side of the door before she’s smiling sweetly.

“Sorry, honey. He’s out with some friends.” You know he’s right behind the wood. You speak up, you want to be sure he hears you too. “Can I leave you with a message?” May stands straighter, she wasn’t expecting this. “Of course.”

“Can you tell him I’m sorry? And that I’ve been way too selfish and mean and a complete and utter fucking bitch to him for no good reason for nine years? Can you tell him that he’s the last person I ever wanted to hurt like this and that I really want to say it to his face?”

May ignores the colorful language and you’re thankful for it. Her eyes trail to the side again, she smiles softly. “I’ll let him know.” There’s no need, he already knows and you both know it. His answer lies in the fact that he’s allowing May to keep up the charade. You don’t know if Peter is bad at forgiveness or just that you don’t deserve it.

“Thanks, May.” You watch the door slowly close, when there's just a crack left you stop it with a hand. “He’s… He’s okay, right?” Your heart thumped slowly, you’re reading her face like it’s your job, you need to know he’s okay.

A tight nod. “He’s okay.” You can breathe a little better. “Good.”

You stare at his door for another two minutes after it shuts.

Is this an asshole move? Yes.

Is this worse than what you’ve already done? Possibly.

Peter still wasn’t talking to you and you only had one card to pull. He was home, but he wasn’t answering your texts. You think it’s time to fight fire with fire. You’re standing by his apartment door, and loudly talk into your phone. No one’s on the other side, but he doesn’t know that.

“Hello? Yes, I’m looking for J. Jonah Jameson?” Your eyes twitch to his door, nothing. You speak a little louder. “I understand he’s busy. Well I just… Uh huh, right, I understand, yes ma’am. Is he interested in Spider-Man’s identity?”

You hear something drop inside his apartment.

“Yeah, I know who Spider-Man is.” Peter swings the door open, your phone is ripped from your hand. He glares down at the screen, you’re not connected to anyone. “That’s a low move.” You lightly shrug, “did you expect anything more than that?”

A scoff, “with you? No.” Your lips twitch, you have to fight the frown. You catch his arm when he turns around, there’s no trying, he’s an unstoppable force, you’re moving with him. “I’m sorry! Peter, please! I’m sorry, I am so so sorry and I need you, okay? I need you to not be mad at me.”

Was that honesty? Were you actually being honest with him? Your shoes squeak when he stops pulling you, you’re looking at him desperately searching his face for emotion. There is none. “You’re not a rebound. Not at all. I should’ve never called you one.”

There’s a lot you’ve done to Peter you never should’ve done. Maybe it’s time you start owning up to it.

“I should’ve never said you were a rebound, I shouldn’t have kissed you, I shouldn’t have shown up here drunk, I shouldn’t have kept coming back for more after I told you no. I shouldn’t have ignored you for nine years, I shouldn’t have shut you out when I was eight, I shouldn’t have hurt you.”

Peter’s not saying anything and you don’t mind. You need to say this, you need him to know.

“I shouldn’t have hurt you. I meant what I told May. You’re the last person I ever wanted to hurt like this. You’re Peter. You’re nice, you’re warming, you’re always positive and you buy me pizza without making fun of me and you sign off on donation slips and you let me rip your notebooks apart and you bake me things.”

You blink through your tears. “You were there when I really needed you and you are anything but a fucking rebound to me.” Your chest feels tight, “you’re so good to me, even when I don’t deserve it. I really don’t deserve it now but I really fucking need you, Peter. I know I went on this whole speech thing where Spider-Man needs someone but-”

“I’m here.” Relief fills you, Peter has you tucked into his chest with his arms around you. “I’m right here, okay?” It’s the selflessness that really gets you. You’ve been nothing but mean and standoffish but Peter’s hugging you because you need it.

But really, it’s because he knows he was right. You do like him. You like him more than you’re willing to admit to him yet.

“Can you catch popcorn with your mouth?”

Peter tosses a piece up and catches it with his eyes closed. You grumble and throw your own at him, he also catches that with his eyes closed.

“Okay, turn off the powers and try again.” He laughs at you, “it doesn’t work like that.” You huff, “well, make it.” Peter tosses a piece up and dodges it, it satisfies you. “Ha. Loser normy.”

“Did you just call me a normy?”

“You’re just a boring normal person, I hate to tell you, but it’s true.”

There’s been a brief pause in the actual relationship aspect of your friendship. There’s no more kissing, but you’d really like there to be. You think Peter’s starting to sweat you out and you have no issues with it. If he wants you to make the first move, you’ll do it.

But it’s all in the timing.

“Did I ever tell you that six weeks ago Nat said she’d do heroin with me?” Popcorn spills on the couch, Peter’s darting his eyes over your arms looking for track marks. “We didn’t do it! She said that if I still felt miserable after six weeks she’d do it with me.”

“Miserable? What, about the breakup?”

“Yeah,” you shove a handful of buttery styrofoam into your mouth. For the first time in weeks it doesn’t hurt to talk about. It’s not even a little sore, there’s no bitterness or resentment. There’s nothing there. It’s pure indifference.

You pushed Peter away because you didn’t want him to be a rebound, you didn’t want to use him to get over someone else. But you haven’t thought of him since… since… you can’t remember the last time you actually thought of him.

But when you think of Peter your heart races, your palms feel warm, your stomach flutters. His kisses ignite you. You wake up in the morning and think of him, you wake up every night to make sure he’s home and go right back to sleep. You walk with him every morning, you wave and smile at school, you come over everyday.

You’re in love with Peter and only Peter.

“I don’t know why I ever thought he was worth that.”

Peter has the answer, it’s muffled around popcorn. “Cause you loved him.” You pick a piece off Peter’s shirt and crunch down on it. “Yeah, I don’t think I knew what love was. How embarrassing.”

He smiles. Your eyes catch the screen again, you shuffle more towards Peter, then stop yourself. “Is it weird if we cuddle?” Peter rips the popcorn bowl between you away, he’s never cuddled with a girl before but he’d be an idiot to say no.

“Weird for who? Weird for me? Weird for us?” Peter doesn’t care about the answer. “Those are rhetorical, just come cuddle me.” It’s all you needed, you press up against him and wait, he’s not moving. Fine with you, you halfway lay on him, head on his chest. You’ve never been this close to him, you’ve kissed him and you’ve made a bold move that backfired, but you’ve never been this soft or domesticated with him.

Peter’s heart is drumming a little fast, you make no comment. Yours is beating at the same rate.

You expected Peter to still like you but you haven’t asked. After what happened maybe he decided you’d be better friends. It wasn’t talked out, you both skimmed over what happened and started hanging out like nothing happened.

But it did and you’re glad. It puts things in perspective. It made you realize how much you like him. You just need to know if it made him feel the opposite.

“Do you still like me?”

“I’m sorry, I’ve never cuddled with anyone before so I don’t really know what-”

“No, I mean do you still like me?” Peter knows what you mean. He doesn’t know how you think he doesn’t. “Of course I do.” You peek up at him, he’s already got eyes on you, it makes your cheeks feel warm.

“Even after I was shitty to you?” Peter laughs, a hard laugh, you move with his jostles. “Honey, you’ve been giving me shit for nine years, it hasn’t slowed me down one bit.”

Honey. It has a nice ring to it, you like it. But the one you’ve always liked hasn’t ever been uttered with endearment and you really want it, you want it to come from Peter’s voice and have it wrap around your ears while your heart bubbles up with giddiness.

“Can you call me sweetheart?”

“Is that the one you like?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart.”

It’s so much sweeter than you imagined.

You’re not sure what details May knows, but she knows you hurt her nephew. She hasn’t said anything but you can feel her watching your back every time you’re with Peter. Her tone isn’t clipped and she’s just as welcoming as before, but you can feel it. You can sense that she isn’t fully trusting.

May had stared at you for a good thirty seconds when she caught you spread across Peter’s lap while he studied. You tried to focus on his rubix cube in your hand, even going as far to prove you’re not a threat by giving him a light kiss on his cheek. She didn’t seem convinced, but she left it alone.

Two days ago she burst into Peter’s room and made it very clear that when you were over the door stays open. Peter tried to fight it, he said that you were just hanging out but she was dead serious, going as far as saying that if he couldn’t handle her rules, he wasn’t allowed to have company.

Peter didn’t tell you that you were the only person with this rule, but you knew you were.

“I just don’t get why you’re making such a big deal out of this, May. She’s just-” You weren’t going to be involved, you weren’t going to give May more ammo.

“Door stays open, Peter. If May says it, we follow it.” Peter doesn’t agree with you, you can tell by the way he nods his head and clicks his pen. When did you start being able to read him? And why do you like it so much?

But the real hint was when you weren’t welcome to stay for dinner the previous night. There’s never been a time May denied you food, most of the times she’d come over begging you to join so they wouldn’t have so many leftovers. But last night she just suggested you go home and prepare for the next day.

You watched Peter’s jaw clench in frustration, then you sweetened him up with a smile and told him you were planning on leaving anyway. You don’t think he bought it. You needed to talk to May, you needed to know she was okay with you and Peter, if she wasn’t- no matter how hard it would hurt, you’d stay away from Peter.

May is all he has and you’re not going to put any strain on their relationship. Not over you.

Peter was staying late at school for math club and it’s your perfect opportunity. A light knock, May answers almost instantly. She’s surprised but she melts into a smile, it’s lacking something. “Oh! Peter isn’t here.”

“I know. I wanted to talk to you.” Now you’ve got her interest. May opens the door wide, you go straight to the kitchen for the batch of cookies Peter made you last night. You can taste the love in them.

“May, I need you to level with me here. Do you have a problem with me dating Peter?” There’s a beat of silence, “are you dating him?” You swallow a bite, “not yet. I needed to make sure it was okay with you.”

“You’re asking for my blessing?” You slightly nod. “More or less. You’ve been really nice but I feel like there’s a little tension. I feel like you don’t totally trust me with him.” Confirmation, but it doesn’t hurt like you think.

“Peter’s a sensitive boy. He does everything a hundred and ten percent. If you want him, he’ll give you more than his all. Can you say the same?” Can you? Yes. It’s without a doubt. You want him and only him and you’d lay your life on the line. There’s been so much wasted time, Peter could’ve been your first but you were too stubborn.

Peter wasn’t your first, but with everything in you he’s going to be your last.

“Yes. I’m in love with him. I love him more than I ever loved anyone, I love him more than I thought was possible. I want to be there for him, I want to support him through the bad days and I want to be by his side for the good ones. I want him and only him, I was just too dumb to see it before.”

May’s mouth etches into a smile, this time it reaches her eyes and she’s hugging you. A whisper in your ear, “I always knew this is how it would end.” You grin into her shoulder, “really?”

“Peter’s nothing but determined. It was only a matter of time.” You know what that means. “Are you giving me your blessing?” She laughs and pulls you closer, “you always had it. I just needed to know you were serious.”

Time passes quickly, you’re three cookies down and you’re itching for a fourth. You swear he puts crack in them. You talk animatedly with May, you’re fawning over her own love story and hoping that that would be your future with Peter. When the door unlocks you perk up, you can’t bite back your smile or tapping feet.

“Whatcha doing here? Hi May.” Your arms spread wide, Peter fills them. “I came to talk to May, I stayed to see your handsome face.” How did you once see it as annoying? How did you once find his smile revolting? He’s the prettiest person you’ve ever seen. You want to kiss him more than anything, May gave you the green light, you press up on your toes to give him a peck.

“I missed you. How was math club? Were you the smartest hunk there? Don’t answer, I already know it’s a yes.” Peter’s still reeling from the kiss but he powers through. “I wouldn’t be too confident about that, sweetheart.” Your heart clenches, him saying it makes your knees feel weak. “Mathew Ryan is in the club with me.”

“I hate blondes. I only like cuties with brown, curly hair by the name of Peter Parker.” His eyes squint at you, it makes you feel warm, you hide back in his chest. May’s watching with heart eyes, she’s never seen you so happy. “You’re laying it on thick today. You must need something.”

“Just you, handsome.” Okay, you might be laying it on a little thick, but you can’t hold it in. You just love him too much, it’s uncontainable. He’s perfect. “May, she’s up to something. I don’t trust it.” His aunt keeps grinning. “I do.”

Peter pats your back, “if you trust it, I guess I have to, too.” You squeeze him tight and mumble into his chest, he still hears you. “What, now?” You asked if you could talk to him, it had him looking down and giving you his full attention.

“What’s up?” Your eyes shoot to his door, message received. Peter leaves a small gap in the door, you pause and poke your head out to his aunt. “Can I shut the door?” A three second count, “permission granted.” It clicks shut, you spin, you have all his attention.

“You said I was never properly loved.”

Peter feels his heart drop, it was the nastiest thing he could ever say to you. Part of him wished you had forgotten but that’s not something that’s forgettable, that’s something that sticks with you forever. He never meant to say it, it was something he spewed out to make you feel just as bad but that’s not who he is and that’s not what he does and he really should’ve apologized way before now.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it. It was a shitty thing to say and I-”

“You weren’t wrong. I haven’t been properly loved. But I’d like for you to show me how it feels.”

Your pulse rises with his silence, Peter holds out a steady hand. “Just to be clear, you’re asking me-”

“If you’d be my boyfriend.”

You let out a soft groan, you’re spinning in his hold and pushing at his arms. “Peter!” He doesn’t care, your feet lightly dangle, you’re laughing with him. “Nuh uh, you’re not allowed to push me away anymore, I’m your boyfriend.”

Boyfriend. Peter Parker is your boyfriend. What a rush of feelings, there’s a new one you haven’t felt before. Pride. You’re prideful that Peter’s your boyfriend, you’ve got the greatest person in the world tethered to your hip and he’s going absolutely nowhere. Ever.

“I’ve been waiting for this day since I was fifteen.” A flurry of kisses over your face, “holy wow, you’re my girlfriend. I can kiss you whenever I want, and I can touch you! Oh, and now I always have someone to eat pizza with. And the science museum! No one ever wants to go to the science museum with me!”

“Holy wow?” You giggle at a string of kisses to your jawline, you never knew someone would be so excited at the thought of dating you. “Wow, wow, wowie, my girlfriend’s a hottie.” You push him away with a disgusted sound, “that’s so gross, Peter.”

“Oops, let me repent with a kiss.”

It’s the fireworks again. This time they’re blinding. Your back burns with his touch, you want to swallow him whole. It’s not lacking passion, but it’s soft. You reach for his shirt collar when he pulls away, this time he laughs.

“I was going to ask if I was a bad kisser but-”

“No.” This time you’re keeping him chained to you with your hands behind his neck. “Best kisser ever,” you give him a chaste one to prove it. “My handsome baby.” Your waist is squeezed, “you’re too nice.” He doesn’t understand, he’ll never be able to understand.

“I wasted so much time, Peter. You were right there and I was so… so stupid that I couldn’t see what was right in front of me. I have no idea why you like me, I was so mean and cruel and I never appreciated you.”

Peter has secrets too. “I was friendly, but I didn’t like you. You were super aggressive and made a point to say something mean… but then Ben died.” The oxygen runs from your lungs, it wasn’t something you thought about, you thought he didn’t either.

It was brutal watching him and May go through that. You remember that night vividly, the night May got the call. You could hear her screams from your room, it’s something you’ll never forget. Her wails, the way she begged to God that it was all a dream. You knew what happened before you could see them and the one thing you thought of in that moment was Peter.

You can still remember the panic you felt, the overwhelming urge to make sure he was okay. You remember your feet skidding across the carpet, the cold hardwood in the hall, the way your middle knuckle split you were knocking so hard.

‘Peter,’ it’s all you had to say. Then you were scooping him into your arms, holding him tight as he sobbed. You kept telling him you were sorry, you brushed his hair back and rubbed circles on his back. You kept him tucked into your neck while he cried, you didn’t tell him it was okay, nothing about that night was okay. You remember holding in your own tears, you swallowed them down and held Peter all night.

Fourteen hours. You had him curled up with you while you kept telling him sorry, you had stayed up all night with him and took care of him. You got him water, you made him eat a snack, you did what you could while they slept. You did laundry, you did the dishes, you made cookies.

Peter’s uncle died and you made him cookies.

Your boyfriend dumped you and Peter made you cookies.

You basically lived there for a week, you slept with Peter, held him with each bout of sadness, and never ever told him it was okay. You held his hand at the funeral and kissed him on the back of it before he gave his eulogy. You made sure he was minimally functioning, you tried to keep him busy with dumb tasks.

After two weeks he didn’t need you anymore and you slowly faded away until it settled into how it used to be. You think Peter liked it a little, not everything had to change because Ben died. But you never went out of your way to hurt him anymore, he didn’t need your help in that department. What used to be petty attacks turned into silence and gentle name calling.

But you were there for him when he needed it. Just how he was with you.

“You pulled an Uncle Ben on me.”

A twitch in his lips, “you were there for me when my world ended, I had to return the favor.” It’s not fair for him to compare the two. “I was broken up with, I didn’t have my-”

“Devastation comes in all forms. It’s not about whos is worse, it’s about being there for someone you care about.” He doesn’t hide his smile, “even if they claim to hate you for all eternity.”

“I don’t hate you anymore.”

“Spoiler alert, you never did.”

You’ve been caught. Peter knew the whole time, he was just waiting on you. “Are you sure you don’t hate me? Cause I’ve been really terrible to you the last month.” Your boyfriend rolls his eyes before giving you a big hug.

“That’s because you’re stubborn and didn’t want to admit you liked me.” You poke his ribs, “you knew?”

“Sweetheart, I knew the day you said I had very pretty eyes.”

“Yeah, you do. Let me see them again, boyfriend.”

The last six weeks you detested love and what it brings. The disaster, the heartbreak, the pain. You never thought you’d love again and definitely not with the neighbor you hated. But right there, in his room, you felt your heart crack open and ooze onto his bedroom floor.

And you watched love begin again.

“Anything for you, girlfriend.”

----

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shawnxstyles · 1 year

Text

panty stealer

DATE: JANUARY 14, 2023

summary: flash forces peter to sneak into the girls sorority and steal a pair of panties as a dare. stumbling into the nearest room to save himself from being caught, he doesn’t expect you to be there, and to let him steal the panties you’re wearing.

request: yes!

words: 5.1k

warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [fingering, oral], praise kink, slight dacryphilia kink, dirty talk, and protected sex), language, alcohol, mentions of weed, and a bit of fluff.

note: frat!peter x sorority!reader / peter masterlist / PART 2

—

“are you serious right now, flash?” peter groans with a pinch to his nose. his eyes screw shut in annoyance at flash’s obnoxious behavior.

“of course i am, penis parker!” flash shouts, shoving peter towards the large, white sorority house. “you have to do the dare or else.”

peter groans again, hating himself for ever agreeing to do this stupid game with flash.

the night had started calm and for once, peter was grateful. friday nights were the craziest day at the frat house, but this week, everyone was a bit too busy with schoolwork. except flash apparently.

like all of his other roomies, peter loves a good party. he doesn’t mind thrashing his house every week if that means he can have fantastic parties at his place (okay, maybe he minds a little bit. it gets tedious cleaning up garbage after a while). he knows he won’t be young forever, so what the heck, right?

people never would have guessed that peter was the leader of the frat. shocking, right? everyone would assume it’s flash for his obnoxious and party boy persona or brad for his attractiveness and charm. but what do those qualities have to do with being a leader? everyone else (besides those two) agreed that peter should be the head of the house because he is responsible and smart, unlike those boneheads.

peter often asked himself if he was attractive and if he had charm.

he did, right?

brad was good with the ladies. one glance and a wink made the girls melt into puddles at his feet. every morning when peter woke up early to go to class, a different woman would waltz down the stairs with a glowing, uncontrollable smile in nothing but a t-shirt. peter knew without a doubt that every one-night stand that stumbled down was brad’s; it was rarely flash or the others and ned had a girlfriend who was in the sorority across from us.

peter hooked-up once in a while. he found it more difficult to be like brad when he had college to concentrate on and lives to save inbetween it all. being spider-man in high school was overwhelming at first because it was impossibly hard to hide it. but now, having more freedom in college made everything a bit simpler. just a bit.

flash being spider-man’s “#1 fan!” still made him chuckle every time it came up.

speaking of flash, when peter stumbled through the door in the evening expecting a chill friday night, flash just had to crank up the energy. as per usual.

“what is this?” multiple bottles of liquor were splurged across the dining table when peter walked into the kitchen. flash crossed his arms with a huge smirk plastered onto his face, while ned looked concerned and stressed.

“i tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t listen to me,” ned shook his head in disappointment before walking away to his room.

“we’re having a party. it’s friday, penis,” flash said with an obvious tone. peter could easily have him removed from the frat, being the leader and all. yet he still keeps him here. why must he do this to himself?

“flash, i said no parties today. everyone is tired and stressed, and has a lot of work to do—”

“stressed? i think that’s the best reason for a party. you need to get laid, my brotha,” brad interrupted with an arm around peter’s shoulders and a firm pat to his buff chest. brad is way taller than peter, which some might think intimidates him. but peter is mainly intimidated by intelligence, and brad had the iq of a stick.

peter rolled his eyes at the predictable statement. flash rambles on about how parties are a tradition on friday nights and peter sharply cuts him off with a strict tone.

“ugh, fine! no party, party-pooper parker. but we will be drinking tonight. or else i’m sending an invite to 50 people.”

—

peter had no choice but to comply. flash, ned, brad, himself, and the other boys are seated on the furniture with the drinks displaced in the center. flash gave peter an ultimatum; play truth or dare or he rings the entire sports program of a party. peter growled and folded.

soon later, there is a sharpie drawing on flash’s ass, a ruler that measured brad’s dick, a flushed ned from downing too many denied truth shots, and laughter bubbling throughout the whole room. peter is the only one who hasn’t gotten asked anything yet and he honestly feels a bit left out. but he also just wants to do his homework and then go to sleep.

“what’ll be, penis parker?” flash inquires with a mischievous look on his face. “truth or dare? or should i say drink or dare?”

peter, not caring at the time, chose dare. “dare.”

“oh, you’re so in for it.”

—

so in all, peter was basically held against his own will to sneak into the girl’s sorority house. even though he denied the dare profusely and took three shots to make up for it, flash still dangled the party invites over his head like an iron weight waiting to drop.

peter snarled as flash nudged him again impatiently. he thought of an idea that might work. peter would have to do this dare, but would he have to do it alone?

“if you come with me, i’ll give you $50 bucks—” peter sells with raised eyebrows. he licks his lips as the cold breeze rustles the trees and sends slight shivers up his arms. the sky is pitch-black as the heavy clouds cover all the stars. peter felt a storm brewing and he really didn’t want to sneak into the sorority soaking wet.

“pfft, parker, please. i have enough money—”

“—in weed.” peter finishes, causing flash to halt his words. peter knows that flash can never find a good supply because he complains about it all the time. marijuana wasn’t legal on campus, let alone in the state. the trade had the cogs turning in flash’s head.

“alright, deal,” flash gives in and elbows peter as a form of agreement. then flash motivates brad and ned to join, heading straight for the zone as a group.

their goal was to grab a pair of underwear and leave without being caught. as spider-man, that should be easy, right?

—

for some odd reason, the back door was unlocked. you’d think girls would be more secure and observant than guys, but maybe they forgot. after hopping over the trimmed gardening hedges, the four boys crept through the door and into the kitchen.

unlike peter’s frat, the sorority girls had two big rules that they made known to everyone; no hook-ups allowed and no frat guys. ever. the girls didn’t throw parties like peter, they only went to them, so their place was like a holy sanctuary.

when the guys tiptoed into the kitchen, peter wasn’t surprised the place was damn-near spotless. most of the interior was pearly white; couches, love-seats, tables, counter, cabinets— it was like walking into an insane asylum with minor color accents.

it was at least midnight by now, so the girls had to be asleep. tiptoeing as silent as possible up the stairs, peter leads until they’re all standing in the middle of the large hallway with rapid, contained breaths. flash, being the scaredy-cat he is, follows last and nervously trips over the final step. he slips, tumbling down multiple levels with nosy thuds and bangs of his elbows and knees. all of the guys sprout wide eyes and strained, silent gestures to warn him to stop falling and making an absurd amount of noise.

peter gets goosebumps, hair rising on his skin as he gets a shiver down his spine. his hearing intensifies, picking up mumbled whispers and light footsteps with his spider sense. his eyes wander frantically as he scatters his brain for an idea. nothing comes to mind fast enough, as a door down the hall creaks open. brad and ned drag flash up the stairs, but freeze when they hear the door. out of instinct, peter sprints to the nearest door, slyly slipping inside. he closes the door gently, contradicting the pounding of his heart, without a noise being made. he releases a sigh as his forehead rests on the doorframe.

“what are you doing?” peter nearly shrieks when you casually question him. he stares at you, eyes impossibly wider than before. your arms are crossed as you sit on the side of your bed. peter swallows harshly, gazing at your appearance.

your legs look smooth and supple, and very much bare. he assumes you have underwear on under the t-shirt you’re sporting, and is proved correct when you shift to dangle your legs off the bed. his eyes are drawn to the small sight of your panties that tease underneath your shirt. you smirk, arms still crossed as you let him check you out.

“i-um-uh,” cheeks wildly red, he swallows and averts his eyes to the ground. how does he explain such a stupid thing without sounding like a jackass? i was dared to invade the sorority house. sorry. oh, also, can i have your panties? “it was a dare.”

“to sneak into my room?” your head tilts as you lift yourself off the bed and stalk towards him. peter’s cheeks grow redder while his heart pounds brutally in his chest.

besides the embarrassment flowing like blood through his veins, you were the simple kind of gorgeous that made his knees weak. the kind that is stunning in their own skin and that radiates beautiful energy like magical fairy dust. and peter nearly fainted when he saw your lack of clothes.

he’s seen you many times before; you share a class with him and came to some of his parties. he never talked to you in fear of rejection, but now he doesn’t really have a choice.

usually, he has more confidence with girls, but this is a very unfortunate situation where he lost every skill he’s ever known. even talking.

“no—” ear-piercing screams interrupt peter’s stuttering from the other side of the door. footsteps run all over the wooden floor as low profanities leave the guys’ mouths. “i think she found them.”

“you think?” you clip with raised eyebrows. peter inhales, losing some of his anxiousness at his thoughts of the boys being caught.

poor ned. betty’s going to kill him.

flash deserved it, though.

brad is probably getting one of their numbers.

peter shakes his head and sets his thoughts straight.

“okay, look. flash dared me to do this… stupid thing and i convinced them all to do it with me. i wanted to do nothing but relax tonight,” peter admits with a stressed exhale. you glare at him with squinted eyes, trying to decipher what has him so worked up. it’s not like he got screamed at and kicked out like the other guys. knowing some of your roomies, they might be a lot worse than just kicking them out. you get closer to him and ponder what he said.

“what was the dare, parker?” you shoot a harsh glare at him, daggers that force him to answer. your head tilts with curiosity as your heartbeats sporadically. you’ve never had a guy in your room before, and for that first guy to be peter parker has your heart bouncing around your chest like a boomerang. you’ve had your eye on peter for a few months now; not crazy obsessive, but you won’t deny the blood-rushing crush you’ve grown for the frat boy.

how did you stumble that low? a frat boy? jeez.

peter can’t be too shocked that you know his name, let alone his last name, but you saying it still causes him to forget some of the words on his tongue. many shouts are heard from outside the door, but your chests are nearly touching as you gaze up at him and then the outside world is practically silenced.

“i had to steal some… panties,” he mumbles, voice low and quiet. why does it sound so dirty?

“panties?” you repeat in a hushed voice as your surprised eyes blink a few times. you swallow, clit beginning to throb at the word out of his mouth.

“yeah,” he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “do you have any that i can…borrow?”

your mind hazes at his question. you tried to remember where your underwear was and if it was clean. but as a clear opportunity lies in front of you, you decide to run with it. you look down with a racing heart, fingers gripping the hem of your shirt.

“i…i have these ones,” you lightly ball up your t-shirt, revealing your laced panties to peter. he quietly coughs, cock starting to harden behind the zipper of his jeans. you glance up at his reddening expression through your eyelashes, devilish eyes hiding behind an innocent facade. confidence and lust ease your anxiety. “will these work?”

“um, yeah,” peter coughs again as rosy embarrassment crawls up his neck and blood rushes to his cock. you strut over to the mattress, rocking your hips teasingly, and peter instinctively follows with his heart in his throat. you lie on your back and spread your legs, arousal dripping from you at every movement. peter watches from a side angle, holding his breath as the tension rises.

“well, you’re not much of a panty-stealer if i just give them to you. come and steal them, parker,” you say with as much confidence as you could muster up. your heart was so loud in your ears you almost couldn’t hear yourself. speechless, peter walks to the front of the bed and kneels down, eye-level with your pussy.

he crumples the shirt over your hips, your legs automatically spreading wider. his senses heighten and pick up on the scent of your arousal. a small patch of it can be seen in the middle of your underwear, sending painful pulses down to his forever hardening cock. his thumbs dance around the laced hem, teasing you to see how much he can go.

he would say some of his confidence is back now.

he hooks his fingers under the band, sliding the flimsy fabric down while sticky arousal slings to you. he stuffs the damp material in his back pocket. both of your hearts rack and hands tremble at the extreme intensity, waiting for someone to do something. anything.

peter decides to be that person and resumes his fingers to your hips where the hem used to be. your folds glisten with pent-up arousal, just begging for him to touch you. your puffy clit throbs, neglected, and your thighs subtly spasm trying to remain open. peter grinds on his molars, nearly moaning at the glorious sight. his rough pads trace your smooth skin as he drags lower, dangerously close to where you’re yearning for him.

“peter,” you whisper, holding your breath, so you don’t move a muscle, even though they’re involuntarily shaking with need. he hums, the dirtiest thoughts flowing through his mind. “d-don’t you have to go? what if you get caught?”

“i can spare a few minutes…” his gaze is hazy and distracted, voice gravelly with lust. you clench desperately around nothing as you quietly plead for him to do something. his thumb tests the waters and finally begins circling on your clit, sending electricity up your body. you yelp at the sudden pressure, naturally grinding your hips for more friction. “hmm? don’t you want me to spend a few minutes with you?

his words are taunting and condescending, making your mind go blurry while the words disintegrate from your tongue. the rough pad of his thumb rubs faster while you clench around nothing again, chest heaving.

“i want more than a few minutes,” you moan as his middle finger pets along your soaking slit, teasing you painfully until your eyes roll back. you can sense the smirk growing on his face based on the satisfied hum he responds with.

“more? greedy girl,” peter slides his middle finger into you without warning causing you to release a long string of moans. “shh, you don’t want them to hear you, do you? then we’ll both get caught.”

you shake your head.

“then be a good girl and be quiet for me,” peter demands softly. you nod shakily, as another finger pumps into you rapidly. he thrusts brutally into you, fingertips brushing over your g-spot. you melt as bliss laces throughout your body.

“it’s always the quiet ones who are the loudest,” a devilish and dirty smirk dances on his lips while your teeth sink painfully into your bottom lip. you slap your palm over your mouth to remain quiet as thrilled moans threaten to pour out of you. your revolving hips are halted by his strong forearm, allowing him to curl his digits deliciously into you. you mewl with screwed eyes, back arching at the immense pleasure.

“i’m so close, peter,” you whisper, scared that if you speak any louder your moans will betray you and alert the whole neighborhood. peter subtly grinds his hips into the front of the mattress, cock dangerously hard from your whimpering and whining.

“can i taste you? been dying to since you opened your legs for me,” peter asks while your thighs tremble and your pussy contracts tightly around his digits. you mumble out a shuddery please before his mouth is devouring you.

he never removes his fingers, pumping ruthlessly while his mouth explores your slippery folds. he sucks harshly on your throbbing clit, a muffled wail escaping through your hand. warm and soothing, his tongue glides curiously and sneaks into your undeniably soft cunt. the moan you release is unholy and way too loud. at least right now.

peter wants nothing more than to hear your sweet, sweet moans crying his name while he makes you come in several different ways. but tonight was not the night. he wasn’t trying to get reported and have intruder as a new notch on his belt.

he had a good feeling you wouldn’t run off and report him though.

the idea of it all got him off much more than he would have ever thought. and looking at you, he could say that same.

his mouth plops off of you, lips swollen and puffy from sucking.

“come all over my tongue. let me taste you, sweet girl,” his tone is euphonious and seductive, yet demanding. his fingers savagely thrust into your seeping hole that clenches tightly around him. your back arches off the mattress as your thighs shake from the upcoming euphoria.

peter’s words send your body into overdrive. your muscles contract and your stomach tightens as your orgasm ripples through your body like a heavenly wave. cum oozes out of you and onto his tongue, slurping up every ounce of your juices until there is nothing left.

“such a good girl,” peter praises while he licks away your arousal from his rosy lips. heat crawls up your neck at your sudden vulnerability. you attempt to close your legs to hide, but he keeps them spread with his rough hands. “you’re going to hide yourself after i just ate you out? we’re just getting started, baby.”

peter pulls his shirt off deliberately, showcasing his bulky abs and muscles that made your clit pulse with desire again. he looks like he was man-made, a real-life sculpture with chiseled muscles and perfectly ridged abs. you were insatiable to this man, who snuck into your room to steal something— you should be mad at him. furious. but when his boxers fall down his legs, only dirty and needy emotions and thoughts are left.

your eyes widen at his impressive length; you’ve only been with a few guys in the past, but none of them were this big. you were scared, yet excited to feel his cock stretch you out sinfully. you imagined how long you would feel him inside of you afterwards, soreness like a good workout at the gym.

“you’re so big,” you mumble, not hiding the fact that you were blatantly eyeing his raging cock with hunger, fear, and lust.

“it’ll fit. don’t worry, doll,” he hovers over you, smoothing your hair away from your worried eyes. “do you have a condom?”

you stretch out your arm into your night stand, blindly grabbing a tin-foiled package. you seductively rip it with your teeth, causing peter to groan in impatience. he snatches it away from you and swiftly slides it onto his sturdy cock.

“such a fucking tease,” he hisses, running the tip of his cock along your folds, which were already soaked in arousal again. “are you ready?”

you nod your head surely, more than ready for him to fill you up.

“you’re one to talk,” you sass, rolling your eyes, which were no longer as worried, but full of needy anticipation. he huffs out a single chuckle, eyes strained on his dick rubbing around your wetness tediously.

“speaking of talking, don’t,” peter thrusts into you savagely, making you gasp and shriek. your hand immediately goes to his shoulder for leverage, nails digging desperately into the meat of his skin. the other tightens securely onto your mouth to keep quiet, even though it’s probably useless now.

hoarse profanities fall from his lips as he shifts around your snug hole. your velvety walls choke his cock so fucking good, he doesn’t think he’ll last any longer. and then you clench even tighter around him, sending peter’s eyes rolling back into brain.

“you’re so fucking tight,” peter groans in your ear, flicking his hips upwards into you. your body trembles in overwhelming pleasure, muffled whines begging to be released.

slapping skin and hushed moans fill the air. peter fits a hand between the two of you and rubs your throbbing clit perfectly. his lips travel down from your ear to your neck, kissing along your skin. his tongue discovers your soft spot, sucking harshly until you’re clutching onto him for dear life.

“you’re so good, peter. so deep, too, oh god,” you can’t help the lusty wail that tumbles from your raspy throat when he rapidly rolls his hips, repeatedly touching your sensitive g-spot. he growls at the praise, every action being intensified by the comment. you notice this and smile with a hint of devilishness behind it.

“you may be smiling now,” peter pants, muscles popping and flexing from the position. “but you’ll be crying soon.”

if possible, his thrusts got harder. and deeper. and faster. he was pounding into your cunt like there was no tomorrow, buckets of arousal leaking from you and all around him. peter would pull his cock fully out just to slam it back in, and it made you wither away into another dimension. his balls beat against you harshly with every brisk thrust of his body. his skilled thumb pets your clit, electrifying all your nerves into blissful flames.

there was so much to feel; the biting of his kisses on your neck, the rough texture of his thumb pad on your clit, the long, thick length plunging barbarically into you, and the heaviness of his weight above you. you were so overwhelmed by the pleasure, water brimmed at your tear ducts. soon, full-blown tears are streaming down your face from the euphoria running through your veins.

that familiar wicked smile curls on peter’s face with your appearance; wild hair, tear-stained cheeks, and swollen lips. he doesn’t think you’ve ever looked so beautiful in front of him.

his cock twitches when you whimper loudly underneath the palm of your hand, begging to let you come. contracting on his shaft, your nails stab his shoulder blade until crescent moon marks appear. a strangled moan leaves him when your body rolls up towards him, back arching harshly.

“need to come. so bad, peter,” you whine. his name from your lips drives him mental.

“fuck, y/n,” he sighs heavily. “come around my cock like the good girl you are.”

with those words, your second orgasm tumbles through your body like a thunderstorm. peter slams his lips against yours to keep you quiet, all your pent-up moans turning into needy hums in your throat. stars spot in your vision and you thought you might pass out from being fucked into oblivion. you wouldn’t even be mad— it was worth it.

summoning all your energy, your muscles tense as the liquid floods out of you. your back arches, making your bare breasts push up against peter’s chest. at the same time, peter comes with a string of curse words against your plush lips. he shoots his load into the condom, balls tightening while his eyes screw shut. he steadies his pumps and slowly pulls out of you, never wanting to leave.

you whimper at the emptiness, already missing his cock. he ties the knot and tosses it into the garbage under your desk. peter slips into his boxers and immediately finds the small box of tissues on your night stand. grabbing a few, he cleans you delicately like an antique doll as if he didn’t just ravish your body and soul.

you were beyond dumbstruck as he wiped you up. the few people you have been with never stayed long enough for aftercare, and even though it should be a necessity, the action still made your heart lurch for peter. speaking of your heart, it was beating a mile a minute. sex was a physical activity, yet having a huge crush on someone felt a lot more physically demanding. but you really liked the feeling.

a million thoughts brisked through your head; how does he feel? does he feel the same? did he hate it? did he love it? you shake your head. if you didn’t stop yourself, you would ruin any chance you might have by overthinking too much.

when you refocus your eyes to the moment, peter has his jeans fully on and his shirt in his hand. he slides it on and then looks at you worryingly, seeming as though you’re still naked and haven’t moved.

“are you okay? did i go too hard? fuck—”

“yes—i mean no! shit,” you stutter after interrupting him and close your eyes in embarrassment. “yes, i’m fine. i’m more than fine. that was… really good, peter. like really good.”

peter’s tensed shoulders relax as his face melts from a concerned expression to a soft one. you slip your large t-shirt on and stand up from your bed. your legs are a bit unbalanced and wobbly, and peter can’t help but chuckle as he holds you steady by your hips.

“stop laughing! you did this!” you whisper-yell with a faked angry face.

“oh, i know. next time, i’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk, let alone stand,” he winks with an arrogant smile cascading his lips. familiar heat creeps up your neck and ears, making you all tingly inside at the idea of a next time with peter.

“next time?” large rings of hope surround your irises as you stare into peter’s. his arrogance slightly fades as he itches with nervousness.

“yeah, if that’s what you want, of course,” why is he holding his breath? why is his heart beating so unhealthy fast?

“if i say yes, does that mean you’re going to try to steal my panties again?” you try to hold back your grin as you joke, peering up at him with squinted eyes.

“are you going to let me steal your panties again?” he clicks his tongue with his all too familiar smirk. he loves your playful demeanor and your attempts to withhold a smile.

you pretend to think, really debating. peter can’t help but stare at you in awe. you were beautiful, and he regrets not approaching you earlier because you were… well, he didn’t really know you yet, but he wouldn’t mind getting to know you better. even if you told him to fuck off and never to see him again, he knew that he would never forget you or this night.

you push yourself closer to peter, chest to chest. you can both feel the rapid beating of your hearts through your shirts. however, you stand, gazing confidently at peter. he watches you as you lean right in like you were going to kiss him.

“mm maybe. you might just have to find out yourself,” your breathy words linger on his lips as you back away and casually get into the bed. you unfold the comforter and tuck yourself in, like you didn’t just give peter a semi-hard on in his pants.

suddenly a loud crash is heard from outside, alerting both of your heads to peer out through the window.

“my car!” flash cries so high-pitched and whiny, he probably woke up the entire neighborhood. peter isn’t surprised that one of the sorority girls destroyed his car because he deserved it. someone needed to humble him anyway. you both laugh behind the palm of your hands at flash’s girly scream.

with that, peter realizes that he has to go and that he no longer has any minutes to spare. flash, brad, and ned probably weren’t worried about peter while they were out-running the girls. but now that the girls had done the damage, the boys would soon realize peter’s absence.

“better hide your panties. this isn’t over,” peter walks over to the side of your bed and kisses your forehead delicately. he cracks open the window, turning to you with half his body out. with a wink from him and a gasp from you, he jumps down the two-story window without hesitation. your heart flutters at his gentle kiss that lingers on your skin, fingers pressed against the spot his lips last touched.

rain begins to splash on the glass as sprinkles of water drip into your room through the open window. you purposefully don’t close it, even when you know the carpet will get soaked throughout the night. you welcomed the idea that if peter wanted to come back, he could, simply by sneaking through the window the same way he left.

so many other thoughts cloud your mind, making you lie wide awake. you wondered if his heart was still thumping hastily like the rain pattering on your window and onto your floor. you wondered what he looked like when he was drenched in natural rain water. probably breathtakingly beautiful; soaking wet hair and a childish smile adorning his rosy face while he laughs wholeheartedly.

as you roll over to turn off your lamp with a wistful sigh, you remember that you never even got his number. while trying to guess which set of numbers fit peter parker the best, you fall asleep with a yearning heart, flapping its wings adoringly in your chest.

oh, god, you were down. and it was bad.

what you didn’t know was that peter was down too, but even worse than you.

—

tags: @raajali3

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sacharinee · 11 months

Note

hi m!!! what do you think about bf!pete getting his wisdom teeth out? and the reader taking care of him?? hed be so funny lmao xxD

-🧸

pairing: bf!peter parker x reader w/c: 750 a/n: hi anon!! thnk u for requesting i had sm fun writing this! :)

you’re sat at the dentist's office, cooped up in those uncomfortable chairs while you anxiously waited for your boyfriend’s surgery to finish.

when peter ranted and moaned nonstop over his constant toothache, may decided enough was enough, and took it upon herself to set an appointment for her nephew. he wasn’t too keen on the idea. peter wasn’t afraid of anything ninety-nine percent of the time. dentists, however, wasn’t one of them.

“can’t you stay here with me?”

“stay? baby, no they’re gonna be drilling in your teeth.”

“but i-”

“and it’s gonna be bloody and nasty and i don’t wanna have to see all that.”

you turn towards him, only to come face to face with the boy’s horrified look, his eyes are wide and skin pale, mouth open in shock. you cringe at your response.

“but,” you stand, “you’re gonna do amazing, you’re gonna sit here and let the dentist do his magic.” you smile and lean down to plant a sweet kiss on his forehead.

“y/n/n, wait but-” you drop his hand on the way out, “bye, love you baby! be good!”

“y/n!”

two hours later swing by when a woman in navy scrubs comes to get you, announcing that peter is out of surgery.

you knew that he would be high out of his mind on laughing gas, you just didn’t think it would be this bad.

when you enter, the dentist is off to the side, looking over charts, packing a care bag for his patient.

peter’s head lulls towards your touch on his shoulder and slowly blinks at your presence.

“hi baby, how you feeling?” you give him a beaming smile.

your boyfriend does his best to muster the same grin, but the amount of gauze in his mouth makes his rosy cheeks puff out, drool dripping down the corner of his mouth.

peter takes a moment to stare at you, “woaahh” he languidly slurs his words, “you’re so pretty.”

you giggle at the comment when the boy gasps in horror, “wait, wait, i have a girlfriend, and she’s-” he looks up at you worriedly and slaps his forehead, “i’m in trouble.”

you can’t help but let out a laugh, he’s so dopey.

your fingers touch the bottom of his chin gently and lift his head, “i’m your girlfriend, silly.”

a loud gasp escapes peter as his face turns ecstatic, “get out!” you giggle at his reaction, the dentist glances over at you two and offers an admiring smile.

“so do we have sex?”

the awkward silence in the room kills you.

your face blushes, as you shake your head and clear your throat, “peter, no.”

“no?!” he sighs in disappointment, “aw man.” your boyfriend pouts at the floor, “what have i been doing with my life.”

“oh my god, pete,” when the dentist turns away, you whisper and offer him a shrug, “sometimes we do.”

the delight on his face returns and his eyes go wide, “really?!”

the boy seriously has no filter.

as you’re packing his things, peter pauses and pokes his cheeks, “wait y/n,” he pauses, “my face kinda feels weird.”

you look around and hand him a mirror from the counter, “oh my god…” peter gingerly touches his face as you kneel down at him, “what’s wrong, baby?”

“my face… it’s so fat!” he’s got tears in his eyes and whining with a jutted bottom lip, “y/n,” sniffle. “will-” sniffle. “will you still love me if my face is so fat?”

you roll your eyes and smile at his antics, “of course, i would.”

he seems pleased with your answer because he’s back to smiling. you go back to packing his things. “hey, mr dentist,” he woozily slurs, the gauze is practically spilling out his mouth, “d’you know i’m spider-man?”

you mentally facepalm at his obliviousness and mutter, “jesus christ.”

you turn to the older man who’s chuckling at his mental state and shrug, “he also thinks he’s luke skywalker from star wars.”

“but i am!-” “okay bug boy, lets go.”

“where we going?”

“home, sweetie.”

he gasps eagerly and raises his eyebrows at you, “to have sex?”

“oh my god.”

soon after the dentist explains and hands you everything he needs to recover, you guide peter to the car.

he’s extremely dramatic.

he’s got his hands around your shoulders, dragging himself on the floor, acting like he can’t walk - which he definitely can.

“peter, i know you can walk. c’mon help me out,” you beg.

“no, i can’t" he moans, "carry me,” he demands.

“what? no,”

“why not?”

“because you’re too heavy.”

and he’s crying all over again, “i knew it! you hate me 'cause you think my face is too fat!”

5K notes · View notes

nouearth · 9 months

Text

lessons in kissing.

dick grayson x male reader x peter parker.

summary: dick and peter become your professors in kissing 101 (& more).

wc: 6.2k. genre: smut. warnings: top!peter, top!dick, bottom!reader, handjobs, blowjobs, kissing, cum-swapping, mouth-fucking, threesome, unprotected rough!sex, reader's first time, characters are aged up!

notes: yeah, so um... this might be my dirtiest smut yet. this was also my first time writing a threesome soooo, i hope i did okay? thank you, anon!

request by: anonymous.

“you’re lying! you’ve really never kissed anyone before?”

“dude, like, ever?!” peter gasped, and you turned towards him, slowly nodding while you grew cautious of everyone’s confusion.

“not even when you were in kindergarten?” you twisted your neck for the nth time at the sound of dick’s voice again, and shame unexpectedly crept onto you the more the two men collected their bafflement together.

your cheeks and neck flamed as they both stared at you, bewildered as if your confession was akin to an unmasking of a superhero—like a family of lemurs, a small one, you’d reckon.

“geez,” your hand clutched onto the can of sparkling water harder before downing it, ridding your insecurity in several hard and fizzy gulps. “if i knew i was going to be interrogated, i wouldn’t have told you guys in confidence.”

“no, it’s just…” a careful exchange was puzzled together by the two men. dick shrugged and peter stammered, following you into the kitchen of his apartment. “i mean, not to make you feel weird or anything, but you’re not ugly.”

“i- pete, was that supposed to be a compliment?” your eyes narrowed at him jokingly, maintaining the coldness of your gaze to break peter into nervous stammers.

“w-what, no!“ he shook his head and approached you closer, a mixture of awkward laugher filling the feigned tension between the both of you. “wait- no, i mean, yes! it’s a compliment.”

you’ve always found it cute.

“i think what peter means is…” bouncy steps followed you two into the kitchen, more-so to sate his appetite for pizza after losing his tenth consecutive match on a game, but consider his curiosity piqued. a mouthful of pepperoni and cheese didn’t stop him from joining. “you’re handsome, he talks about it all the time.”

“dude...” peter grumbled and instinctively turned his body away out of your sight, sipping at nothing in his cup. the only fizz left was the glare he sent dick; like a sparkler on holiday festivities.

“oops, my bad,” another bite, and dick took his cup of soda to gulp the grease down. “we find you handsome—though, i’m pretty sure (m/n) knew that since i hit on him when we first met.”

“god,” you laughed it off, picking the pizza box of gloopy cheese to take it in your mouth. “can you imagine? my first kiss being with you? or even peter?”

yes, you can imagine. those thoughts had run rampant since you met them in freshman year of university, expanded upon it even. what would it be like to date dick? how soft were his lips? and the same for peter. sometimes, you’d even think about making out while he was in his spider-man costume, but that fantasy was shamefully bookmarked into a deep abyss of thoughts, only sprouting when you would touch yourself at night.

“why?” peter turned back, almost offended, while dick’s laughter joined you, and you swear you can feel a draft from how quickly he twisted around. “is that weird?”

“kinda?” the conversation made you shift on your feet. it was more intimate than what you were used to, and they knew it too, judging by the way they both stared at you again—hyenas. “i mean, i guess it’s because we’re so close now, so…”

“pft, that never stopped me,“ it was like a magic spell drew that confession out of dick. your fingers would have to be cut to coerce that out of you, but you weren’t dick—shameless and confident, you admired it on good days.

nonetheless, you and peter both gave dick a questioning look. offended would be a regular person’s first reaction, but from the brief exchange you and peter shared, it was unanimous that curiosity took the lead.

dick’s gaze shifted from you and peter, and when the silence drew out for longer than he would’ve thought, a welcoming draft in the room awaited his rebuttal. “come on- you seriously think i stopped thinking about you guys just because we’re best friends now?

“dude, you think about me?” peter’s eyes widened. it would’ve been hilarious if you weren’t involved. you would’ve passed this off as a banter, no more than that.

you hated to admit it, but you felt yourself throb at this revelation. blood rushed downwards in light speed and you were barely conscious to the drone of peter and dick’s chatter, but you shook it off, laughing at their banters like you aways did.

the day went on like usual. peter’s collection of video games kept you guys entertained for a few hours. when you felt fatigued from mashing your thumb onto the buttons for the ninth match, a walk downtown sufficed. laughing and bantering were the core of your friendship with dick and peter—like every friendship you’d imagine.

but at its finest, it was their vulnerabilities to you, and yours to them, that kept the foundation strong. they trusted you with every secret of theirs, aided them in a few missions of their own, and your friendship thrived.

the next few days haven’t been exactly the smoothest. you were quieter than usual, and they both took notice because you’d pick at your food while their voices—questions and comments—were ignored, passersby to the street of hearville.

was it that weird to have never kissed at your age? to never have had sex? to not even have had held hands with another guy? they never made fun of you, but you couldn’t help but let these thoughts run rampant.

no. no, it wasn’t. people have their own pace. mine... just somehow happens slower.

you weren’t insecure, but you still felt weird. you suddenly became moody when you saw dick and peter, like you want to be left alone, push them out of your apartment when they drop a visit, drop their pants and suck them off-

oh.

ohhhhh.

dick and peter.

“teach me.” you suddenly spoke out and the two men looked up from their plate of food, exchanging a look with each other before questioning you, humored because you barely spoke all day. the tv played in the background and you were all sitting on the ground, eating off of peter’s very… very small coffee table.

“ah, i almost forgot what your voice sounded like, (m/n)!” dick laughed, twirling his fork into his pasta before shoving the food into his mouth.

you made a slight pout, only because they weren’t taking you seriously. though, to be fair, you have been acting weird all week.

“with what?” peter noticed, a little more serious in his inquiry. but food was more of a priority for him, you can see him practically sweating at the thought of leaving his spaghetti cold.

“pete, you can still eat-“ you laughed, taking a bite of your food.

“oh, thank god.” and peter does the same, chowing down on his spaghetti after a hard day of saving lives.

dick cleaned his palette with a cold gulp of soda, a refreshing hiss when the bubbles trickled down his throat. “so, teach you what exactly?” he continued on. “fighting? oh, dude, are you going to be a vigilante-“

“no, no! does it look like i have the strength to be like batman or something?”

“well, i’m guessing that’s why you came to us for training?” dick amused himself, and peter chuckled, much to your annoyance.

“guys, i don’t want to be a vigilante.” you grumbled, beginning to bury your confession deep in the pit of your stomach somewhere. “or a superhero, or a guy in a spider-suit with weird web things.”

“hey, they’re not weird-“

“i want to…” it was calming to watch the way your fork swirled itself into the pasta, metal tongs pierced and capturing a wave of sauce and spaghetti all in one swirl. “learn what it’s like to kiss.”

peter choked on his glass of water.

you continued, hot in the cheeks because you can see peter’s widened eyes even when you look away. “handjobs, blowjobs, everything…”

and a piece of dick’s meatball was caught in his throat.

a low drone accompanied the silence once the tv was muted and while a huge weight lifted off your shoulders and chest, you felt small knowing how vulnerable and weird your request sounded.

“so, you want us to teach you how to…” dick cleared his throat and you feel like you could hear a smile, but you weren’t sure if that was your mind trying to convince you that everything was fine. “kiss and… other things?”

“yeah,” you continued to avoid your gaze, opting for the wooden floor instead. “i know, it’s weird. you don’t have to say yes or anything, it’s just-“

“is that why you’ve been acting stand-offish lately? peter was worried. he was the type to always blame himself of someone else’s behavior, no matter how much you tried to reassure him. though, you guess, he technically was the reason why you became so moody—part of it, anyway.

“mhm.” the silence was defeating, you can hear their necks turn to look at each other—of judgement, most likely.

and it was all but confirmed when you can see them hopping back onto their feet and running—running as far from you as possible. “guys, wait, i’m sorry-“

you looked up and watched them dash to peter’s bathroom, immediately chasing after the trail of their steps in bewilderment. “what are you-“

“first step, make sure you have good breath.” dick handed you your toothbrush, his spare one at peter’s already brushing into the foaming spearmint in his mouth.

“atleastluntilhelikeyousenough” peter gargled thick and incoherent, brushing into his jumbled sentence.

“uh-huh, okay… seems a little obvious, but…” you spread the toothpaste on the bristles of your brush and began brushing, a smile forming because you have to brush the front teeth too—but also because of your best friends.

you can always count on them.

“you ready?” dick naturally became the leader of this impromptu training program. he was the most experienced considering how many women and men you caught him with, and as much as you hated that when you were roommates with him, his expertise was needed in this moment.

“yes.” you sat in the middle of peter and dick, rubbing your sweaty palms against your shorts. a mere flash of regret ignited inside of your beating heart, but peter rested his hand on top of one of yours, squeezing ever so gently to warm and soothe you—to pacify you.

and your worries were quelled when dick does the same, his smile softer, countering his usual playful attitude. “just stop me whenever you feel uncomfortable.” he made you feel safe.

you looked at peter, and he nodded in agreement, his fingers now intertwined with yours. he had always kept you safe, feeling safe, this was a normal feeling towards him. “same with me.” “i will.” your voice was quiet in the bedroom, a mere soft whisper, but they recognized your will to be more vulnerable with one another, to blossom. and dick appeased it with a kiss.

light and feathery at first to test the water, but once dick heard your breath hitch, he applied more pressure in between your lips, capturing them in a slow waltz that kept you on your toes, yet flat on your feet to contain your excitement—your relief.

it was awkward at first, to find your footing. your nose would bump into his, teeth as well, but dick chuckled, assuring you this will always happen.

unbeknownst to you, dick’s been wanting to do this since he met you, and he savored every second. “remember what i told you… build it up.” he reminded you because you were getting eager, following his lead but returning his kiss in hard sucks. “nice and slow.”

peter’s palm on your thigh pressed gently onto your bare skin, mistakenly under the lift of your shorts because he was too in awe of the kiss, but they grounded you from your brief flight to the heavenly clouds nonetheless.

“nice and slow…” dick repeated, and you succumbed to his reminder like a prodigy. “that’s it.” it lasted for a few seconds longer until you pulled away to capture your breath again. your lips tingled still, remembering the taste of spearmint when dick’s breath ghosted on your skin.

“was that okay?” an innocent question, but you swore you stole that exact same tone from a porn you watched the other day.

“a natural,” dick laughed, stroking your hair back and you’ve never see him so affectionate—loving, as he doted on you. “try it on peter. more touching though, if you’re okay with that.”

you nodded and turned your head, meeting peter’s gaze with a flushed smile, your lips slightly swollen from your previous endeavor. “I’m okay with that.”

“me too.” peter smiled, only softening when you leaned in, and it completed hid against you when you captured his smile with a kiss.

his hand gently placed on the back of your head when you did and he pulled you closer into him, returning the kiss, and spilling his breath into yours, while at the same time, drawing yours out. “rub my chest, i like it when people do that.” peter whispered in between each kiss.

you do as you were told, a gentle hand to peter’s broad chest, and you feel yourself tightening, satisfied with how intimate this all is as you felt the muscles on his chest through the fabric.

in the meantime, dick’s been squeezing at the bulge in his pants, containing his will to completely ravish you simply by watching the way you and peter made out. he’s always been observant, noticing the strong twitching of peter’s own erection, and soon yours when peter slid his tongue into your mouth.

it was tantalizing—breath-taking— watching intimacy build up and vulnerabilities become unimaginably pliant before him. the pink muscles looped and swirled with one another, spreading and sharing sticky saliva until your mouth and peter’s were practically coated in it, glossed in sheen.

when peter pulled away, your lips were immediately stolen by dick again, kissing you with more strength than before, stubbornly refusing the chance for you to restock on oxygen as he wanted a taste of you too. the air became thicker, harder to breathe, but you basked in the taste, the wetness of dick’s tongue, and allowed yourself to become weak in his arms when he took you in, embraced you closely. “mmf...” you moaned out, breathing harder.

but just like dick, peter wasn’t finished with you, directing his tongue and lips to the back of your neck when you turned away. his ticklish and fleeting kisses pulled you back into peter’s arms, but dick noticed and pulled you forward: a stubborn game of gentle tug of war.

they wanted you, every piece of you. it was telling as peter sucked into your neck, venomous and poisoning, and when dick began directing your hand under his shirt, allowing you to feel his toned stomach and chest, and eventually his clothed erection, making you squeeze around it with an open palm.

lessons have completely escaped to the back of minds, and all that remained was pure lust.

“it’s okay if you don’t want to.” dick reassured. though, ironically, his hand atop of yours, relieving the ache in his pants continued.

through swollen lips, you managed to mutter, distracted by peter’s bruising sucks to other areas of your neck and skin, whimpering when he bit a little too hard. “i did say teach me everything…” his hands were under your shirt now, warming your bare skin with his palms, excited, but fleeting as they immediately tied to the buttons of your shorts when you gave the okay.

“hey, hey,” dick laughed, watching the way peter has grown grandly impatient. “you’re going to scare him, horn dog.” he left a kiss on your lips, a quick one before leaning past you to kiss peter.

you watched in awe at what a kiss was supposed to be like: burning with ease and passion with every stroke of their lips, no hesitation at all—just a moment of time that they’ll remember. you backed into the bed and leaned against the headboard as they kissed at the foot. you don’t remember having your hand down your shorts, but you do, palming yourself to your own private show.

the kiss ran sloppy, drool dripping down either chins, stained with intimacy, and clothes were quickly tossed to the side, with no care in the world.

you followed.

even though you were similar height to peter, he was stronger—they both were. and now, you felt smaller as they climbed onto the bed, towards you, bare and hardened. you watched breathlessly, as their cocks swung heavy with heat. peter’s pre-cum dripped thickly in yearn for something to fuck, while dick’s throbbed for something to fill—a porn scene come to life—and you were left agape, jaw and legs.

“kinda surprised we’ve never done this sooner,” peter said, you weren’t used to his voice so low. kneeling on the bed, by your left hip, he took your hand and kissed the palm, the wrist of it, skimmed his lips over your forearm before guiding It toward his cock, aching for your touch. “though, was hoping i’d have you to myself, but…” gently, your hand was cradled to wrap around his shaft, warm and running with veins, it pulsed. “this works too.”

your chest rose with every spoken word, and peter has never looked hotter. taking control of you like that made your skin crawl, a spell that commanded you to move your hand back and forth, conjuring you to pump him in slow strokes.

contrary to his overall demeanor, his actions were of warmth. caresses to your head, doting on you with honey dripping from his gaze and cotton in touch while you sinned.

you didn’t know where to look—to fall in love with the way peter gazed at you like a painting in a museum, or to salivate over the way his pre-cum leaked thickly over your hand when you squeeze it out of him, like a bottle of maple syrup.

that became more a problem—a dilemma—when you felt a wetness over your right nipple, then a sting when dick bites to get your attention—selfish and stubborn, like always. “are you sure this wasn’t a tactic to get all three of us in the same room? you seem comfortable.”

he tongued your nub, flicking back and forth to make you squirm, to hear the sound of your moans, to be the reason you have trouble sleeping at night. alongside, his palm ran over your body—chest first, down your stomach, and finally, your erect cock and balls.

you watched, breathless, continuing to stroke peter’s cock and he’d lean over to give you a few kisses here and there. for the most part, he was content like this, watching you squirm while maintaining to do the best to pleasure him.

“no, i swear- it’s just-“ dick played with your balls, squeezing and tugging on the tight sack to loosen them. every man was sensitive down there, you were no exception. “you guys made me feel safe, so…”

“well,” you looked up when peter spoke, his eyes fluttered shut, and you only got them to open when you thumbed the slit of his head, rubbing slick all over his glans, then the length of his cock when you continued stroking. “we are superheroes.”

you all laughed, switching gazes between the both of them, but it was dick’s mouth suddenly wrapping around you that made you concentrate only on him.

“oh, fuck…” warmth surrounded you, inhaled you in one shallow breath, before dick pulled you out of his wet mouth, taunting you with the loss of heat.

“it’s just like kissing,” he said, licking a stripe over the underside of your cock, tonguing his favorite spot: the neck of the glans and the frenulum. dick followed the lines of flesh with precision, leading the very tip of his tongue into the duct of your urethra—once again, tonguing it while his eyes focused on you, devious. “but let curiosity take you further and explore every part of their body.”

“m-mm…” you were sure there was meaning to his words, but they fell on deaf ears. instead, you focused on the ample heat that engulfed you again, moaning.

“every.” dick took you in and pulled you out with a pop.

“fuck-“ you breathed out, curling your toes into the sheets.

“part.” holding your cock up and stroking sloppily, he inhaled your ballsack. sweaty and musty, they must’ve been, but dick devoured the scent, the taste of sins with hungry sucks and licks—ardent and full of fervor.

and at the moment where you most expected to let out a moan, it was shoved down your throat when peter suddenly situated you in between his legs and filled your mouth with his thick cock, smelling of sweat and sex when you inhaled near his trimmed hairs.

“come on,” peter briefly pulled out, tapping the plump tip over your lips. “you learn best when you demonstrate what you’ve been taught.”

peter covered your view of dick, but you weren’t sure if you needed to see him because you felt every maneuver of dick’s tongue, now drowning your cock with his mouth while he continued assaulting your sensitive balls, tugging and squeezing.

you looked up and peter never looked bigger, more intimidating, but it’s become your new addiction, and you take his cock, holding it thick and take in what you can. it was barely past the tip before you could feel yourself gagging, but with peter’s reassurance, you swallow more of him every time you went down, slicking him up with your spit.

“how’s he doing, pete?” your cock was left cold when dick pulled away to speak, but he made up for it with his hand, stroking his spit with your cock.

“he really is a natural.” peter chuckled, watching you with a scrunched face of pleasure whenever you pulled him deeper into your mouth. almost down your throat now, but he pulled his cock back completely before you can fully take him. “you try.”

“fuck, yes.” dick leaped over and used the spit from your length earlier to lube his own cock, spitting in his palm and stroking when it wasn’t slicked to his likening while peter scooted back to kneeling at your side, stroking himself now.

as your head was positioned in between both their cocks, dick’s was bigger, thicker—a mouth stretcher you’d imagine. but peter’s was longer, veinier, and the only thing they had in common was that their balls hung loose. in porn terms, hung like a horse.

and on this very day, you considered yourself a lucky man because you have no objection to either, no will to pick and choose.

“look at you,” dick’s voice was rugged, deep, and he pushed his cock past your swollen lips. there was a clear difference in girth. your mouth was stretched wide, and you could only hum a sound of satisfaction, even with the slight sting from the stretch of skin. “who knew you’d be such a cock lover, hm?”

“he can’t get enough of it, god…” peter was in awe, salivating and stroking quicker at the sight.

two hands kept dick’s cock still in your mouth while you sucked on the bulbous tip like a lollipop. the rest of your hands stroked whatever you couldn’t mange to fit in your mouth. you were apologetic at first, but dick’s smirk told a simple story of his ego, clearly aroused by the size of his own cock as it only grew wider when you struggled downing him, gagging with a whimper.

“come on… (m/n), you can do better than that. you were so good at sucking peter off, kissing us too. what happened?” dick pulled away to stroke himself with your spit, but he quickly buried any excuses into your throat when he pushed himself into your mouth.

“you’re too comfortable now, (m/n). you’re slacking…” peter joined the banter, and when dick pulled out of your mouth, peter’s cock replaced the loss of warmth to your surprise.

holy shit, this is happening.

like a see-saw, the two men alternated in filling your mouth, stuffing saliva further and further down your throat, without allowing a single excuse from you to escape. it’s buried now, deep in the pit of your stomach, and all you can do was be the prodigy that they wished for you to be.

when it was dick’s turn to stretch your mouth, you made sure that peter’s cock wasn’t left abandoned, stroking him with distracted strokes, and vice versa when it was his turn at your throat. you overworked yourself in pleasuring your two best friends, making sure they were satisfied with you, with your mouth as you took more of them without a single plea for a break.

“fuck, there we go…” occasionally, dick would take control by holding the back of your head and fucking inside of your tight mouth. drool leaked down either corners of your mouth while you let him, tears brimming in your eyes when your throat tightened again, a familiar feeling that dick encouraged to hold back. “there’s my star. taking cock like a good student.”

if there was one thing that these very brief lessons have taught you, you were exactly what they named you: a cock lover. you slurped at whatever—whoever—entered your mouth absentmindedly, spat on cocks that have begun to look more or less the same, because it was dizzying now. your cock was left alone, but it stood tall and proud, throbbing as the two men harassed your face and mouth with their erections. one would gag you while the other had his balls shoved to your face and nose, sliding its wet, dirty slick all over your skin, staining you with lust.

it alternated like this for a while, and you were content, so was dick and peter. but you needed more—something to fill you elsewhere that wasn’t your dirty mouth. and you pleaded with your eyes, looking up at your best friends with delighted tears, a mouthful of cock, and a gaze only a cock loving whore could have—and they recognized it.

peter was reluctant to pull away, he was so close. but he’s always been selfless. he released his hold on you and it was a struggle to pull you away, but he did with your lips suctioning off with a quiet pop. a thick string of spit that once connected between your lips and peter’s cock laid like webs on your chin, cooling as you watched the two men reposition themselves.

“i’m going to assume we don’t need a lesson in how to finger yourself, hm?” dick whispered against your swollen lips and kissed you again. you were entranced under his tongue, swirling all over yours like ocean waves while you touched yourself to his licks. you twisted and pinched your nipples, tugged on them with the occasional help from dick, then stroked your cock while dick continued from peter’s original trail of bruising kisses to mark his own territory on your body. you were as horny as they were, if not hornier, and you needed them inside of you, in any way possible.

“fuck, i need you guys so bad.” breathless in your moans, your legs squirmed when you felt something wet between your thighs when they were raised, peter’s nice girth sliding in between the plump skin.

he thrusted himself slow and steady while he worked on your hole, reaching down to prepare you with his lubed digits, one by one. you’ve done this before, they were surely aware, so it wasn’t a unit that was particularly focused.

in between preparation, your mouth remained on dick’s cock again, delivering him your fullest attention with several lathers of your tongue, sucking hard and hollow, deep into your throat. you remember what he taught you and occasionally stuffed your mouth with his balls, sucking on the weight and letting go with a pull because you got off on seeing how they tensed and jiggled when you did.

“i’ll go slow.” peter leaned in with your legs hooked over his shoulders, bending you back, and kissing the tip of your nose when he was close enough to your face. “tell me if you want to stop.”

once you nodded, allowing him the will to deliver on his promise, peter made sure to lube himself up once more before pushing inside of you, slow and steady. he was careful, watching your face as it scrunched when the head slid in—burned when the rest of him filled you to the brim.

it was almost like you couldn’t breathe. it was too much, to be bearing all of this pain alone, but at the same time, you held peter close, wrapped your arms around him to prevent him from leaving you while you buried tiny whimpers into his neck, because you don’t want to stop feeling it, so full and devoured. it was written all over their faces when you glanced at them—they didn’t want to stop either.

peter and dick decorated your skin in wet kisses, distracting you from the pain while peter began to find a rhythm. although slow, you were beginning to familiarize yourself with this pain. soon after, pleasure, when he struck something inside of you, a certain spot.

“oh- peter, right there, fuck.” your legged tightened around him and the sweat from your thighs rolled back onto your stomach when peter re-adjusted himself to fuck you at a higher angle, folding you onto your back.

“yeah? right here?” peter thrusted into that spot dead-on, like a dart to a bullseye, and you groaned, your throat aching in pleasure, but dick pacified it with his cock again, filling you up once more. “oh fuck, look at you. all of your holes are filled up, fuck… so fucking tight”

“baby, you’re doing a great job, god…” your heart beat when dick called you that. it was always something he said as a joke when he arrived to your place. honey, darling, you name it, but the fact that it came out so genuine, it made your skin flush red and you could only respond in moans while you sucked him off. “i think he likes it when you fuck him like that, pete.”

for the first time, you felt wanted.

peter’s thrusts were hard and strong, his balls swung into with every rhythm. you can see the muscles in his thighs flexing whenever he pounded down into your tight hole, your bodies colliding like waves to a rock. it stung whenever his skin slapped into yours, sweaty and musky, but the sinful sounds were well-worth the prize as you basked in them, in the taste of dick’s cock, the sound of peter’s grunts, the flutter of dick’s eyes when you gargled his cock again, deeper, the sweat dripping from peter’s forehead and body—the bedroom hailed of sex. it rocked of brutal creaks and slams as both of your holes were violated and filled to the very brim, all driven by pure lust.

after some time, they switched spots, tag-teaming so dick can have his turn at your hole. unlike peter, he was rougher, immediately pounding into you because he was sex-crazed about you, couldn’t stop thinking about you since day one of meeting you.

“fuck, better than i’ve ever imagined,” he laughed into your mouth, kissing you sloppily, and pulling away when peter’s cock impatiently wedged himself in between the kiss, and you were back to sucking and jerking off cock again—no complaints. “still so tight, even after peter fucked you so hard…”

“it’s like he was made to be a whore, right?” such vulgar language from your best friends broke the original portrayal you had of them. now, all you could think about was how they wanted to absolutely make a wreck out of you, de-blossom your naive thoughts of what your first time should’ve been like.

it wasn’t what you had imagined. it was supposed to be with one person. a full-time commitment to your relationship. a loving pair holding each other close when they both climax. it was going to be special.

but this… you thought to yourself as you were fucked into the bedsheets with absolutely no mercy, your ass pained and bruised from dick’s muscular hips driving into you every time he came down, harassing you in that familiar spot again.

this was… peter pushed on your bottom lip with two fingers to open your mouth, then spitting in the void, some catching onto your tongue, before shoving his swollen cock inside of you again, aching to touch—to fuck.

dick palmed your cock as you writhed, bent under him, moaned around peter’s long cock. he gathered all of his strength left to tickle you deep, to reach inside of you with his cock, breathless and panting with every thrust that rocked the two of you together—three, when peter fucked into your mouth.

this was so much fucking better.

“holy shit-“ under dick’s touch, you came hard in several thick ropes, all over his fist, and then the sweat of your body when he opened his palm. you were a natural shooter, accidentally spraying your face with your own thick semen, and you heard peter and dick moan in unison, in awe.

seeing you dressed in cum like this had them race each other to their climax. dick fucked you harder, his grasp on your hips bruising and white, while peter held onto your head and met your throat with his cock, repeatedly forceful in strength. you gagged around him, and they only benefitted from every sound you made.

“fuck, i’m going to-“ you watched peter’s abs flexed, tightened as his stomach pooled with pleasure, and you can hear the holy bells ring when he pulled out of your mouth, jerking his wet and slimy cock off until he came undone in thick spurts, all over your pretty face. not a single shot was missed, painting you in white like a canvas with every last drop.

you were still high off of your own orgasm, and you turned your head to watch dick fuck himself into you, clearly wonder-strucked by the scene before him. you were covered in cum all over. they beckoned him to join, the many loads on your body. they were begging now, a mantra of pleas pulled him closer to you, and he can smell the sex off of you, inhaled peter’s musk as well, and again—those holy bells rang.

with the speed of lightning, dick pulled himself out of your abused hole and climbed over to kneel over your chest, fucking into his fist while simultaneously jerking his cock off over your face. to your cum-covered body, to peter kissing his spunk off your cheek and chin then your lips, to the taste of your own cum when you swiped a load off your chest and fed it into dick’s mouth. he suckled, bittersweet salt spread over his tongue, and he was ravished by the taste of you.

dick then pushed his hips out and aimed his cock over your lips, still connected to peter’s for a messy kiss, stroking until the only reason he tore his gaze away was because his lids fell heavy, ceased his sight to roll his eyes back, and came with a shudder. thick ropes of cum inked on your face and peter’s, but most of it fell to your connected lips.

“fuck, that’s hot…” dick muttered, rolling his shoulders back while he milked himself to you and peter making out, cum-stained and all. you moaned at the taste, saltier than yours and peter’s, and peter does the same while scraping a load of warm cum from the corner of your cheek and into his mouth before kissing you again, swapping the gloopy residue with a sloppy exchange of tongues.

he was envious, watching how the sticky load caught onto your lips then peter’s when he squeezed himself dry. before you and peter could take all of his cum for yourself, he leaned down to join peter for a kiss, stealing the mound of cum that peter has expertly hidden on his tongue. dick didn’t know who he was tasting anymore. but whether it was you, peter, or himself, it was delectable, and he wanted to share the delightful taste with you. he spat the mixture of cum and spit inside of your mouth before webbing his lips to yours, sealing it with one final breathless kiss.

“so, are lessons still on for next week or?” peter lay by your side, and dick joined the other, still dizzied from his high as telling by his shut eyes and drawn out pants.

“i mean… i’m still up for it if you guys are?” you said, leaning over to press a kiss to peter’s cheek. you took his smile as an answer and looked to dick for his.

“mm... yeah.” dick sleepily opened his eyes, his locks stuck to his sweaty forehead while he buried himself under the blanket. you felt his arms wrap around your waist once he got comfortable, muttering a kiss to your shoulder before dozing off.

“we’re good teachers, pete.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

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alwaysmoncheri · 1 month

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh whatev—hmph!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

masterlist . tasm!peter parker masterlist . taglist

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

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

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bruisedboys · 4 months

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peter parker and “is that my shirt?” prompt would be so cute!

congrats on 6k

thank u angel! hope u like this!! join the celebration

tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

Peter’s missed you so much he actually feels kind of sick. He’s practically buzzing as he unlocks the apartment door and lugs his suitcase inside.

“Angel?”

There’s a loud and very cute squeal from down the hall. Rapid footsteps, and then you appear in your pyjamas, beaming bright as the sun, looking like the prettiest thing Peter’s ever seen.

“Peter!” You squeal, a ball of excitement. “Baby. Oh my gosh.” You cross the room and throw your arms around his neck. Peter laughs, his chest flooding with warmth, and hugs you back twice as strong.

“Hi, honey,” he says, lovelorn. You smell amazing. You look like an angel. You’re squeezing him to death. He’s missed you so much he could cry. “Holy moly, I missed you so much.”

You giggle, turn your face into the side of his head and drag your nose along his jaw. “I missed you more,” you say, lips hot on his skin.

A shiver runs down Peter’s spine. He’s only had you back for a half a minute and you’ve already got him shivering? Typical. “Impossible,” he tell you. He runs his hands down your back and up again as if to prove to himself you’re really there.

You laugh and pull back, bouncing on your toes, to look him in the eye. You’re so, so beautiful. Somehow prettier than when he left you, which seemed impossible but apparently isn’t, not for you.

You reach up and push a lock of hair from his eyes. Peter’s hypnotised. He doesn’t get how one girl can be so achingly lovely, so pretty and so sweet, but you manage it. He slides his hands down to your waist, feeling like he might explode if he doesn’t touch every inch of you. It’s then that he recognises the familiar fabric of your shirt. He looks down.

“Hey, is that my shirt?” He asks, raising his eyebrows. He nudges you backwards with his hips to get a better look. It is his shirt. His favourite one, which he didn’t pack for his trip because it suspiciously went missing the day before he left. “It is!” He exclaims, pinching at your side. “You had it this whole time?”

You giggle at his prodding, and try twisting yourself out of the way. Peter keeps a firm grip on you, hand spread over your ribs, his glare full of accusatory heat.

“I’m sorry!” You say, giggling like an idiot when he pinches you some more. “I missed you, okay? Is that such a crime?”

Peter makes a face at you but his heart’s soaring. “Well, if you count theft as crime then yeah, I would say so.”

You huff. “You’re so dramatic!”

“I’m dramatic?” Peter feigns offence, pulling his head back incredulously. “You’re the one who stole my—!”

Your lips land on his before he can finish his sentence. His words are lost to your mouth. You push up into the kiss, fervent and hot. Your fingers curl into his collar and brush over the column of his throat, and Peter forgets everything else. He kisses you back just as hard, one arm hooked around your waist and the other bent between your chests to hold your jaw.

“Never mind,” he says between kisses. “You can keep the shirt, baby.”

You laugh against his mouth.

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luveline · 3 days

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Hi Jade!!! I love, love, love your writing. I was wondering if you could write something for Tsam Peter x reader where reader has a concussion and Peter is just generally super sweet about taking care of them? I have a concussion right now and I feel like he would be so sweet about it. If not feel free to ignore this, love you!!! <3

i love u!! fem!reader, 1k

You’re shivering again. Peter looks up from his book suspiciously, squinting at the curve of your where you’re laying on his couch. He should let you rest —you’re allowed to sleep with a concussion, despite what some might think— but he doesn’t like the shivering. It’s weird.

“I'm coming, baby,” he says, standing up from the armchair to situate himself by your hips.

Peter pulls the blankets more firmly to your chin. “Are you cold, bub?” he asks. It might appear that he’s talking to you while you’re still sleeping, but the smile you give when he talks proves otherwise.

“No,” you force out in a mumble.

“Are you sure?”

It takes you some time to think about it. Your body’s been thrown for a loop since you hurt yourself, but you’re healing nicely, and your mental stamina is yards better than it had been. Peter asked you yesterday if you wanted a kiss and you couldn’t answer him for a full minute, and when you did it was an uncoordinated lift of your chin. You’re still in there, still his girl, just mildly incapacitated for the time being.

“I might be,” you decide.

Peter grabs a throw from under the coffee table and shakes it out over your arms and shoulders. “There. Need a drink?”

“Do you?” you ask.

“What?”

“You’re asking me lots of questions,” you say, slowly, quietly, but not without character. “I thought I’d ask one back.”

“I don’t need anything.” He tilts his head to align your faces, leaning in, not quite close enough to kiss you.

“You look very serious right now, Spider-Man.”

He glares for show. “So serious.”

“Sorry I can’t really make you a drink.”

Peter wipes the glare. “I’m sorry you got hurt. I don’t care that you can’t be my serf right now. When you’re better I’m gonna work you twice as hard, that’s all.”

You raise a tired hand to his jaw. You’re extra careful to offset your wonky hand, stroking a clumsy but tender line from his ear to his chin. “Can you help me up?”

Peter doesn’t question you. You’ve been recovering for a few days (he hasn’t realised before your injury that some people can take months to get better after a head injury, even without blood clots or fractures) and he’s not felt the urge to baby you beyond waiting on your every whim and want. If you’d like to sit up, that’s okay. The only thing he’d insist on is getting enough sleep at night, and thats something you’ll do happily.

“Can I give you a hug?” he asks, his eyebrows pinching up at their starts. “I hate seeing you shiver, it makes me sad.”

“Makes you sad?”

He squeezes your elbow where the blankets have fallen down. “Is that surprising?”

You want to trade jokes with him but you can’t summon a retort, and your smile quickly fades. It can’t be nice, feeling a shade of yourself. Peter’s heart aches for you twice.

“C’mere, pretty girl,” he says, slipping his arms under yours, encouraging you to wrap your own behind his head or let them rest behind his shoulders. He loves hugging you like this, almost lifting you, spider strength begging to be used as you sigh and settle into place against him. You feel a little like a shell of yourself, not quite quick with touches, fingertips twitching against his shoulder blade as he nuzzles his face against yours unabashed. “There you are. Where’d you go, huh? I was about to send out the search party.”

“I’m right here.”

“Yeah you are. Lucky me, right? Luckiest guy in the world.”

You sigh happily beside his ear, your face pitching slowly downward until it’s pressing against the curve of his neck, your arms slipping down his front as you run out of energy. He doesn’t mind, bundling you up with no intention of letting you go.

“How do you feel?” he asks.

“Still fuzzy, like… it’s like we’re talking to each other through a screen door.”

“Do you need something? Or want something? I’ll get you anything.”

“I’m fine.”

He lets out a sorry sigh. He wishes you’d want something, god knows he’d love to put a smile on your face. If you were feeling better you might ask him to go and get you something for dinner from across the city, or beg him to find you a bunch of flowers (which he’s always willing to buy). But sick, you ask for nothing. You just lay on the couch and wait to get better. Peter doesn’t think it’s super fair.

“I’m sorry you’re not better yet,” he murmurs, his lips drifting down to your temple, which he kisses weakly, the barest brush of his lips. “Wish I could take it from you.”

“I’ll be okay soon.”

“I know you will, but I still wish I could take it. It’s shitty.”

You think about this for a while. “It’s not shitty,” you work out finally, hand curling against his waist in a tired display of affection. “I have the… best boyfriend ever looking after me.”

“I’ll be here until you’re better, you know that.”

“I know.”

Peter ushers you back and lifts your blankets, slotting himself next to you with a careful arm held behind your back. You show some surprising excitement at the offering of a cuddle and work under his arm, shuffling down the couch to leave you both laying on the same cushion, blankets uneven but warm over your chests. “You should probably go back to sleep,” he says.

“Nap with me?” you ask, endearingly hopeful.

He turns his face, intending on drawing lines into your cheek with the tip of his nose until you either fall asleep or can’t take it anymore. “Sure, baby. I bet you’re exhausted, huh? Let’s sleep.”

He falls asleep before you, breathing snores into your cheek. You have enough wits about you to laugh, and then you fall asleep, too.

537 notes · View notes

waitimcomingtoo · 4 months

Text

A Film By Peter Parker

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: Peter gets back into making little videos once the two of you start hanging out

warning: extreme 2017 homecoming era nostalgia

Masterlist

Of course he went for Liz.

Liz was the ingénue. She was perfect in every possible way. Perfect grades, perfect face, and the perfect boy pining after her. You’d been crushing on Peter since the third grade but with Liz around, he never noticed you.

But Liz was gone now. She had moved to Oregon following her dad’s arrest and taken Peter’s feelings for her with her. Now that she was gone, you decided it was time to stop pining after Peter from afar and start pining from up close. And so, when you walked into the cafeteria that day, you didn’t sit at the end of the table like you usually did.

“Oh, hey.” Peter smiled in surprise when you sat down next to him. Smiling was good. Smiling meant he wasn’t creeped out by you sitting so close. You gulped before giving him best smile back.

“Hi.”

“What are you doing here?” Ned asked, making Peter give him a look. You immediately regretted your decision and wished you’d just stayed in your usual spot.

“What do you mean? She always sits with us.” Peter pointed out.

“No, she always sits down there. She’s never actually sat with us before.” Ned replied and gestured to the end of the lunch table.

“Yes, but I’m sitting here today because I needed Peters help with the chemistry homework.” You said and put your chemistry notebook on the table. You knew you couldn’t just randomly sit with them without a reason, so you came prepared.

“Oh, for Mr. Eddie’s class? It’s easy. I’ll show you my notes.” Peter’s offered with a smile. You returned the smile as he pulled out his own notebook. It was a win/win for you since you actually needed help with the homework and it would start a conversation with Peter. While he was explaining the problem to you, you never once looked down at the notebook. You were too focused on the curve of Peter’s suspiciously long eyelashes, the longest you’d ever seen on a boy. Ned noticed the way you were staring his his best friend and frowned a little.

“Does that make sense?” Peter’s asked when he was done explaining.

“Yeah, it does. Wow, thanks Peter. It sounds so easy the way you explain it. I wish this stuff came as naturally to me as it does for you. You’re so smart.” You said as if you had listened to a single word he had said.

“That’s nice of you to say but I’m really not that smart. I just like chemistry.” He replied as he blushed from the compliment.

“Oh, come on. You’re the smartest guy I know. You’re the only one that answers questions in that class. And you always get them right. When Mr. Eddie asks if anyone has any questions, I don’t raise my hand because I don’t even know what I’m confused about yet.”

“That’s I feel in English. I can barely make it through the first line in a poem and you’re already going back and forth with Ms. Teague about Pindaric odes or whatever they’re called.”

“You listen to when I talk in English?” You asked with a soft smile.

“Of course I do.” Peter shrugged. “I always find the reading boring until you raise your hand and talk about how you interpreted it. You make it interesting.”

“I liked that book we read when the kids ate the other kids.” Ned said and interrupted the moment. Your smile dropped as you and Peter looked at him with disgust.

“The one with the flies-“

“We know.” Peter cut him off.

“Anyways, thank you for helping me with the homework. I’ve been stuck on it all week.” You said to Peter.

“Ugh. That’s been me with my paper for Mrs. Teagues class. And it’s due tomorrow.” Peter groaned.

“Oh, the analysis essay? I could help you with that.” You offered.

“Really? You’d help me?” Peter smiled in surprise.

“Yeah. I already wrote mine. It would be no problem.”

Ned was watching this back and forth conversation for a while until it clicked it in head. He gasped and slapped the table, making you and Peter look at him.

“Oh my God.” Ned said. “That’s why you’re sitting here. You have a-“

“Can I talk to you for a second, Ned?” You quickly cut him off when you realized where that sentence was going. Before Ned could even answer, you grabbed his arm and pulled him outside the cafeteria to talk in private.

“You like Peter!” Ned whispered harshly. You clamped your hand over his mouth and pushed him up against the wall.

“You need to keep your mouth shut.” You hissed. “Yes, I like Peter, okay? I’ve had a crush on Peter since middle school. He never noticed me when Liz was around but now that she’s in Oregon, I might finally have my chance. I don’t want to scare him off so just keep your mouth shut and let me handle this.”

You took your hand off Ned’s mouth and he started to gasp for air.

“Oh, please. Your nose wasn’t covered. You could breathe just fine.” You said with a roll of your eyes. Ned stopped pretended and straightened up.

“So you actually like Peter? For his personality?”

“Yes. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Kinda, yeah.” Ned admitted.

“I like everything about him. And I’m gonna tell him that. Just please, don’t say anything before I do. I’ll tell him when I’m ready.”

“Are you going to cast a love spell on him using a lock of his hair?” Ned whispered to you.

“What? No. Why would you even ask me that?”

“Because you’re a witch.” Ned said like it was obvious.

“I’m not a witch.” You groaned. “I just accidentally cackled that one time but it was only because I had phlegm in my throat.”

“Then about that time on the bus?”

“We’ve been over this. It was just a coincidence that that biker fell off his bike after I gestured with my hand. I didn’t move him with my mind.”

“And that one time in physics?” Ned narrowed his eyes.

“I still don’t know how that guys shirt caught on fire.” You shrugged. “It’s a mystery to me.”

“It caught on fire after he made fun of you for being a witch.” Ned pointed out.

“Maybe he was just standing too close to the flame.” You shrugged.

“He was standing in the doorway. There was no flame.” Ned reminded you.

“The magic of science.” You shrugged again.

“But what about that time-“

“Don’t bring up the nosebleed.” You whined.

“I am gonna bring up the nosebleed.” Ned hissed. “In sixth grade, our Spanish teacher got a nosebleed right after he told you to stop staring out the window and made everyone laugh at you. How do you explain that?”

“You’ve made your point, okay? Now are you gonna tell Peter or not?”

“Look, I’m not gonna expose your gross secret feelings, as gross and secret as they may be.” Ned sighed. “But Peter is still my best friend so I have to look out for him. I don’t want any spells cast on him.”

“That’s fine. There will not be any spells.” You held your your hands in defense. Just then, Flash walked by and laughed when he saw the two of you talking.

“Woah. What is this, the friendless loser convention?” Flash snorted.

“Shut up.” You snapped. Flash immediately tripped over his feet and fell to the ground, making Ned look at you with wide eyes.

“Witch!” He whispered harshly as he pointed a finger at you.

“Shut up. Let’s go back inside.” You rolled your eyes and pulled Ned back into the cafeteria.

Later that day, you met up with Peter in the library to go over your assignments. You started with his English essay and finished that within an hour before moving on to your chemistry homework.

“You can plug the numbers into your formula now using the method I taught you. And then you just solve for x.” Peter explained as you worked out a problem together.

“Hm. You make it sound so simple.” You sighed and leaned on your hand. Peter saw the way you were staring at him in his peripheral vision and felt his face heat up.

“It’s, uh, it’s pretty easy once you get the hang of it. I never liked the way Mr. Eddie taught it. I figured this out myself and it’s worked much better for me.”

“Thanks for helping me. You’re a good teacher.” You said and put your hand on his arm. Peter laughed shyly at the contact and cleared his throat.

“Thanks. And so are you. That was the best essay I’ve ever produced. I honestly worry she won’t believe I wrote it.”

“Well if she says anything, I can vouch for you. You put in good work on this essay. You deserve the credit.” You assured him, making Peter blush all over again. It occurred to Peter that he never realized how pretty you were. You’d been classmates since 3rd grade so he always looked at you as just another girl in his class. Now that you had his full attention, he didn’t feel like looking away.

“Thanks. I appreciate you helping me write it. I know it can be frustrating to work with me because of my dyslexia.”

“It’s no problem. And it wasn’t frustrating at all.” You shrugged. Peter smiled at felt better about how long it took him to write the essay.

“Thanks.” He said. You had successfully gotten him to spend time with you one on one but now you needed to commence the next phase in your plan which was to hang out in a non school related setting.

“Would you ever want to hang out socially?” You blurted.

“Like, and not do homework?” He asked. You nodded your head and he smiled before nodding as well.

“Yeah. Sure. I’d love to.”

“Cool. Me too.” You smiled. You hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that but it worked nonetheless.

“Does this weekend work?” He asked you.

“Yeah. What do you want to do?”

Hard cut to that weekend. You were on the subway with Peter and he had his phone out to record himself.

“Firts social hang out with a girl. A film by Peter Parker.” He said in a low voice before flipping the camera to face you.

“Staring me.” You smiled and waved to the camera.

“Are you sure you’re cool with me filming this?” Peter asked as he flipped the camera back to himself.

“Yeah, of course. The other ones you showed me were so cute. But why did it seem like there were so many missing parts? You were always talking about something cool that I didn’t get to see.”

“Uhhh, no reason.” Peter said and looked to the side. He had skillfully edited out any incriminating superhero activity that you were not ready to see yet.

“Well I like it. I feel like I’m on Modern Family.” You said and posed for the camera.

“Which family member would you be?” Peter laughed and zoomed in on you. With his phone blocking his face, he could shamelessly admire your face on his screen.

“Duh. Lily.”

“I can so see that.” He chuckled. The subway lurched suddenly and you both grabbed onto the pole, coincidentally putting your hands in top of each others.

“Oh, sorry. Our hands touched.” You laughed shyly.

“Oh my God. So romantic.” Peter joked, making you blush and look into his camera.

“Stop it.” You laughed and covered his phone with your hand. He laughed as well and put his phone away.

After learn you had never been, Peter decided to the Lego Store. He’d been hyping it up to you all week over text and now that it was finally happening, he hoped it impressed you. You walked in together and Peter heard you gasp.

“Big Lego Aladdin.” You gasped and ran to stand under the giant magic carpet and Aladdin made of Legos.

“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard that string of words come out of someone’s mouth.” Peter laughed and went to stand under it with you. You looked over at him and were surprised to see he was already looking at you.

“This is even better than you described it. You need to show me everything.” You said and excitedly shook his arm.

“I can do that.” He blushed and nodded his head towards some of the sets.

Peter took out his phone to film you as you looked at everything in the store. The way you were looking around like a little kid brought a smile to Peter’s face. He zoomed in on you and caught himself staring at you fondly through the camera.

“Come on. I haven’t even showed you the coolest part yet.” Peter said and brought you over to the build your figure own station. He laughed when you gasped again and started to excitedly rummage through all the pieces. Peter didn’t bring his phone out again until you had built each other.

“Show me what you made.” He laughed from the other side of the phone.

“Looks! It’s a little Peter. He has a backpack and a beaker.” You said as you proudly showed the camera the little Peter figure you had made.

“This is Y/n. I can’t believe I found the shoes you always wear.” He said as he filmed the figure he had made of you.

“You notice my shoes?” You asked with a smile. Peter didn’t catch it because he was too busy fitting the hands of your Lego figures together.

“Look. They’re holding hands.” Peter gasped.

“Aw.” You laughed. “Us on the subway.”

“We should give them some privacy. They might not want us to hard launch their relationship.” Peter said and put his phone away.

“You’re so cute.” You laughed without thinking about it. Peter looked up at you with rosy cheeks and you gulped when you realized what you said.

“I mean-“

“Come on. I wanna take you somewhere else.” He cut you off before you could explain. He brought you to Delmar’s and ordered his usual for you to split. You sat together inside and you tried your best to remain calm. You always wondered what Peter got up to when he wasn’t at school and now you were in one of his favorite places and eating with him.

“Okay, this is Y/n’s first time eating at Delmars since he reopened. Let’s get her reaction.” Peter said as he filmed you unwrapping the sandwich.

“Wait, why is it so flat?” You laughed and held the sandwich up.

“Oh, sorry.” He chuckled. “I forgot to warn you that he always squishes it for me. But you’ll like it. Trust me. It’s much better when it’s squished down real flat.”

“Well I’m glad I now know you like your sandwiches to be squished. I would not have expected that about you.” You said and took a bite of your half before giving him a thumbs up.

“Yeah? You like it?” He asked hopefully.

“I do. Your squishy sandwich was surprisingly good.” You admitted.

“Well, I’m very pleased to hear that.” Peter smiled and phone away. “So to make it even, you have to show me one of your favorite places next time we hang out.”

“Oh.” You smiled coyly. “I didn’t realize there would be a next time.”

“There better be. I had a lot of fun with you today. How come we’ve never hung out before?”

“I don’t know. I always wanted to but you were busy running around with Ned or staring at…” You trailed off and chose not to mention Liz in case he was still hung up on her.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m just glad we’re friends now.” You said instead.

“Me too. I’ve never had a girl friend.”

“What was that?” You said and started choking on your saliva.

“All my friends in my life were guys. It’ll be nice to have a female influence in my life.”

“Oh. Girl friend.” You smiled tightly.

You hung out another hour before taking the subway back to your respective apartments. Peter walked to you the front doors of you building and you had an awkward moment where you didn’t know if you should hug or not.

“We uh, we should probably get an ending for your film.” You said with a timid smile.

“Oh, right. Thats a great idea.” Peter smiled and pulled out his phone. He pressed record and you waved to the camera with both hands.

“So, can you give our first time hanging out a rating?” He asked you.

“9/10.” You grinned and held up two thumbs.

“What? Why’d I only get a 9?” Peter scoffed and pretended to be offended.

“I had a 10/10 time but I have to deduct a point because we saw that guy cutting his hair on the subway and I was scared he was gonna throw the scissors at us.”

“Well I would’ve just protected you with my lightning fast reflexes.” Peter said simply. You smiled at him through the phone and he smiled back. He put the camera down and looked at you with a content smile on his face.

“Seriously, though. When’s the next time we’re hanging out?”

It ended up being just a few days later. And then again a few days after that.

“Peter’s first time!” You cheered as you filmed him during one of your hang outs.

“Trying boba.” He clarified. “I don’t understand this drink. Do I eat the balls?”

“Yes. Sip it slowly so they don’t all go down your throat.” You instructed. Peter took a big sip and immediately started choking.

“Peter! I said slowly!” You said as you slapped his back until he stopped choking. You quickly put the camera down to help him recover.

Your hangouts started getting more and more frequent and Peter soon considered you a best friend. Your weekends became each others and school days were often spent together in the library or at one of your apartments. You were quickly moving up the ranks in Peter’s life, just as you hoped. And the closer you got, the more Peter could not believe he had never noticed you before.

Little did you know, Peter often found himself watching the footage he had taken of you during your hang outs with a big smile on his face. He’d rewatch the videos he had taken and realize that they were slowly becoming less of a documentary and more of a highlight reel for you. He never imagined a girl as cool as you would for him so when he realized he was starting to fall for you, he quickly repressed his feelings. Little did he know, the feelings were mutual.

“Did you always make these little videos?” You asked Peter one day as he filmed you trying to balance on the curb of the sidewalk.

“I used too make them all the time but I hadn’t for awhile. I only started them again when we started hanging out.”

“Really? Why?” You wondered and stumbled off the curb.

“I don’t know. You remind me of the time before my life got crazy. It made me want to do these again.” He shrugged. You couldn’t help but smile at that information and turned around to look at him.

“So I could be the star?” You asked and posed for the camera.

“Exactly. You’re my muse.” He played along, making you laughed shyly. When he watched the video back later that night, he knew he had meant every word of that.

Peter sat in his bedroom one day and filmed himself wearing your glasses while you did homework at his desk. He looked over you every now and then just to admire the back of your head.

“Don’t break those.” You called without looking up. All you needed to hear was the sound of your glasses case opening to know what he was doing.

“I’m not even wearing your glasses.” He lied and admired himself in the camera.

“Yes you are.”

“No I’m not. But yes, I am.”

“Knew it.” You snorted.

“Hey, how come girls always smell so good?” Peter wondered. “Your hair hit me in the face when you turned too fast before it smelled like a baby in a damn meadow.”

“It’s just my womanly essence. Now can you stop looking at yourself long enough to help me with my chemistry homework?”

“It’ll be hard but I can try.” Peter dramatically sighed and set his phone down. You got yo from the desk and went over to the bed with a cheeky smile on your face.

“Incoming.” You announced and patted your elbow twice like a wrestler.

“No, don’t.” He pleaded. You ignored his pleas and jumped on top of him. He groaned and pushed you off, leaving you laying in the bed beside him.

“Ow. My ribs.”

“You’ll heal.” You rolled your eyes. “Now can you help me with number 7?”

“Oh, yeah. No problem. Can you check this email before I send it?” He asked and handed over his laptop. You handed him your worksheet before reading over his email draft.

“Oh, honey.” You grimaced just a few words into the email.

“Is it bad?”

“Good evening, Mrs. Howard. I hope this email finds you well. I’m so sorry for bothering you. I was just wondering if I could possibly have an extension on my midterm paper? No worries at all if an extension is not possible. I apologize for any inconvenience this email may have caused. Thank you for reading, Peter Parker.” You read out loud.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“After your name, you included the name of the class, the time you have it, and a description of yourself. She knows who you are!” You laughed and turned the laptop around to show him his mistakes.

“She may have forgotten.” He pointed out. “I can’t take any chances.”

“Peter, this email is way too submissive. You sound like such a bottom.”

“Well excuse me, genius.” He said sarcastically. “How would you write it?”

“Here.” You said and handed the laptop back after retyping his email.

“Oh, wow. That’s actually really good.” He said once he read your updated version.

“This is why we are such good friends. You have all the math and science knowledge in this little, beautiful head of yours-“

“Little?” He interrupted.

“You’re right. Sorry, I was just being nice. What I meant to say is that your head is huge.” You corrected. “Anyways, you have the math brain and I have the literary brain. It’s like you’re Einstein and I’m Victor Hugo.”

“Who the hell is that?” He laughed as he peaked at your mirror to see if his head was actually huge.

“The guy who wrote Les Mis.” You said like it was obvious.

“Never heard of it.”

“What? You’ve never seen Les Misérables?” You asked in a thick French accent.

“Huh?”

“We have to watch it. It’s so good.” You said and snatched his laptop back. You pulled up the movie and handed it back to him.

“Oh my God. It’s two hours and 38 minutes long? And a musical? Hell no.” Peter shook his head and pushed the laptop away.

“But it’s so good.” You urged. “We can just leave it on in the background while we work. It’s super light and easy to watch.”

“Really? What’s it about?”

“Oh, you know. Just war torn France.” You mumbled.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“But you’ll like it! There’s prostitution and con men and um…oh! And orphans! You can watch it and feel represented.” You said and shook his arm.

“I hate you.” He laughed but nearly gave in to your request just to see you happy.

“Fine.” You huffed. “I finished editing your midterm paper, by the way. You don’t actually have to send that email.”

“And here is your completed chemistry homework.” Peter smiled and handed your worksheet back.

“Aw.” You gushed. “Look at us. I love cheating with you.”

“So do I. We make a great pairing.” He chuckled as he looked over at you. You looked back at him and gulped. You hadn’t realized how close you were with your arms and legs pressed against each other as you sat together in your bed. Peter knew his sheets would smell like your perfume that night and smiled at the thought.

“Now that we’re all done with our work, you know what we should do?” He asked as he moved in closer.

“W-what should we do?” You stuttered now that he was right there.

“You know what I’ve been dying to do with you for a long, long time?” He asked.

“No. I mean, I don’t know. What?” You laughed nervously. Peter moved in even closer and right when you thought he was gonna kiss you, he reached over and grabbed his laptop back.

“I wanted to show you a real musical. Not this French miserable bull crap. Have you ever seen a little movie called Hair-“

“No. I’m not watching Hairspray with you again. You scream-sang every lyric last time and I couldn’t even hear it.” You cut him off and reached over home to take the laptop back. He pulled it away at the last second and you ended up on top of him. You looked into each others eyes and both froze in the positions you were in. Your faces were almost touching but neither of you tried to pull away. Your eyes were going back and forth between his lips and eyes and he was doing the same. Like magnets, you two started to lean towards each other but before your lips could connect, May opened the door.

“What did you guys want- oh! Sorry! I didn’t realize I would be interrupting something. My bad.” May smiled sheepishly and pretended to cover her eyes. Peter burned bright red as you quickly climbed off of him.

“May.” He said warningly.

“Sorry. But maybe lock the door next time. And use protection.”She whispered the last part before shutting the door.

“May!” He groaned and threw a pillow at the door. There was a long, awkward silence before you were even able to look at each other. When you finally did, you smiled awkwardly and kept your distance.

“That was so weird. What did she think we were doing?” You laughed nervously to break the silence.

“Psh. I know.” Peter scoffed. “She said she was interrupting but we weren’t even doing anything.”

“Yeah. What did she think? That we were gonna kiss or something?” You asked and laughed like it was the most ridiculous thing you could ever suggest.

“Us? Kissing? How silly. Imagine that.” Peter forced a laugh as well and looked to the side. The awkward silence returned and you struggled to look at each other.

“Do you think she made dinner?” Peter asked after a beat of silence.

“Let’s check.” You said and quickly got off the bed.

You didn’t discuss the almost kiss and went home shortly after. You couldn’t sleep that night because you couldn’t stop replaying the moment in your mind. No matter how much you wanted him to like you back, if Peter reciprocated your feelings, he would have kissed you.

Your pity party didn’t last long because on the subway the next day, you felt Peter put his earbud in your ear. You heard the Les Mis soundtrack playing in your ear and looked up in surprise. Peter was already filming you with a huge smile on his face.

“This guy 24601 should stop stealing bread and stick to singing. He has serious pipes.” Peter said.

“You listened to it?” You melted into a smile and held your hand over your heart.

“Yep. I stayed up all night watching lyric videos because I couldn’t understand what they were saying with their accents. It’s actually really good. I love Eponine. I just wish Marious wasn’t such an idiot. How does he not see that his best friend is clearly in love with him?” Peter asked with exasperation. You looked directly at the camera and hoped it picked up the irony before looking at Peter again.

“He’s not an idiot. He’s a romantic.” You sighed. “He doesn’t notice Eponine because he’s in love with Cosette. And course he is. She’s prettier and richer and has perfect hair. He doesn’t even see Eponine.”

“Good hair isn’t everything. Eponine is way better than Cosette.” Peter scoffed. “I’m team Eponine all the way.”

“Are you really?” You asked hopefully.

“Oh, for sure. I see why you like this stuff. These songs are awesome.” Peter said and put the other earbud in his ear. He then flipped the camera around to film the two of you sharing earbuds. As Heart Full Of Love played in your ears, you couldn’t help but longingly staring at Peter. The fact that he had stayed up late just to listen to something you suggested made you overcome with fondness for him. If he had done something like that, maybe he actually did feel the same.

“I forgot how good this album is. I haven’t listened in a while. I used to listen to it all the time back when you…” You stopped short when you realized you were about to say too much.

“When I what?” Peter wondered. You looked him in the eyes and decided that it was time to be honest. The song ended and a new, much louder one began to play in your ears.

“Back when you liked Liz. She was Cosette. I was Eponine. I was the one pining after a guy who never noticed me because he was in love with another girl. You were never mine to lose.” You admitted. Peter stared at you for a minute before pulling his earbud out.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear a word you just said. Master of the House is such a banger. What did you say?” He asked you.

“Never mind.” You smiled. “It wasn’t important.”

He smiled back before getting a text on his phone. You looked at his phone when you heard it buzz and realized he was still recording. In other words, he had just recorded you saying you liked him. Your eyes went wide but you only had a second to panic when you read the text he had gotten.

“Did Liz just text you?” You asked in a quiet voice. You felt like you were about to throw up. Years of crushing on a boy who liked another girl turned into months of pinning for your best friend and now turned into a rock in your stomach. Peter stopped recording the two of you to answer her text, which felt a little like a slap in the face.

“Oh, yeah. We’ve been talking lately.” He absentmindedly replied to you as he laughed at whatever she had written.

“You have?” You asked with a dry mouth.

“Yeah. She says Oregon is pretty cool. But she wants to come back and visit this summer to see everyone.” He told you.

“And see you?” You asked with a sad smile.

“I guess so.” He shrugged. “It would be nice to see her.”

“Yeah. Totally.” You said weakly. “So how long have you guys been talking?”

“I don’t know. A few weeks? She texted me a little while ago and we’ve been catching up.”

“That’s awesome.” You lied.

“I know. I didn’t think I’d ever hear from her again after she moved.”

“Neither did I.” You said through a forced smile. You needed to get off the subway and away from Peter before you started crying. So as soon as the subway doors opened, you bolted out.

“I gotta go. See you later.” You called to him before running through the subway station. You wiped tears as you went up the stairs and didn’t stop moving until you were in a bathroom stall at school. You gave yourself five minutes to be upset before drying your face and leaving the bathroom. It sucked, but it could have been worse. Now, Peter never had to know how you felt about it.

Peter was beyond confused by your exit on the subway but he wasn’t about to get any answers from you. You dodged his texts throughout the day and didn’t dare go into the lunchroom where you knew he and Ned would be.

“Y/n isn’t here yet?” Peter’s huffed as he sat down at your usual lunch table.

“Not yet. Actually, I haven’t seen your girlfriend all day.” Ned realized.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Peter blushed. “And I’m pretty sure she’s avoiding me. She’s been so weird ever since this morning. Everything was fine on the subway until we got to school.”

“Well did anything happen on the subway that would weird her out? Oh no. Did you graze her boob with your hand again?”

“No. That was one time. And it was her boobs fault, not mine.” Peter whispered harshly. “We were just listening to music together and I was filming her like normal. But she could not get away from me faster once the doors opened. It was so weird.”

“Did you say anything weird to her? Girls don’t like it when you say weird things to them.”

“I know that. I didn’t say anything weird.” Peter replied as he pulled out his phone. He watched the video he had taken on the subway with no sound to see where he had gone wrong. All he saw was you looking at him with heart eyes which made his face heat up. But still, no evidence of where he messed up.

“I knew it. We were having a normal conversation about Les Mis and then I got a text from and then she ran. It makes no sense.”

“What was the text? Was it May saying something weird?”

“No. And stop saying weird. It doesn’t sound like a real word anymore.” Peter ordered. “And the text was just from Liz.”

“Oh shit.” Ned said when he heard this.

“What?” Peter wondered.

“Oh, Peter.” Ned sighed. “Peter, Peter, Peter.”

“What?” He asked again, annoyed now.

“Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter.”

“Are you gonna tell me what happened or just keep saying my name?”

“I can’t tell you. I’m sworn to secrecy. And I don’t want Y/n to put a hex on my family.” Ned said and held up his hands.

“Y/n swore you to secrecy? About what?”

“Can’t say.” Ned shrugged and zipped his lips.

“Does she not like Liz? And doesn’t want me to know?”

“Dude. Dude, dude, dude, dude. You are so close but so far.”

“So she does like Liz? Oh my God. Does she a crush on Liz? And she’s jealous that Liz texted me and not her?” Peter whispered with wide eyes.

“You’re getting colder.” Ned waved his hand. “I don’t even know how you got there.”

“That was all my guesses. Just tell me.” Peter whined.

“Hell no. I don’t want Y/n to curse my crops and make not grow for all of eternity.”

“You don’t have crops.” Peter pointed out.

“I could develop some.” Ned snapped.

“I just don’t understand what she would tell you something but not tell me. We’re best friends. She usually tells me everything.” Peter said right as his thumb accidentally hit the volume button on the video. Your confession to Peter on the subway was heard loud and clear by the two boys. Both of their jaws dropped as the video ended with you asked if Liz had just texted Peter.

“Well I wouldn’t have beaten around the bush like that if I knew you had video evidence of her saying she liked you right in your hands.” Ned sighed dramatically.

“I need to find her.” Peter said and ran out of the lunchroom. He looked around the school until he found you under the bleachers in the gym. You were sitting with your back against the wall and your knees drawn to your chest with your earbuds in your ears. When you saw Peter coming up to you, you quickly pulled them out.

“Hey.” He said and waved cautiously.

“Hey.” You smiled sadly as he sat beside you. You sat in silence for a minute as neither of you knew what to say.

“What’s going on with you? I haven’t seen you all day.” He started off. You looked at your hands to avoid making eye contact and sighed.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’ve been talking to Liz?” You asked quietly.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t hiding it. I just didn’t think it would interest you.”

“Well you have no idea how interesting I found it.” You laughed dryly. “What do you guys talk about anyway?”

“Well, she originally texted me to ask me to confirm I had an internship at Stark Industries because her boyfriend didn’t believe her when she told him she knew a guy who worked there. Apparently he’s been trying to get an internship there for years and he wanted to know how I landed mine. Then we just started catching up. I only talk to her here and there, though. And it’s only ever about school or work.”

“Oh. I thought you guys were talking talking.” You couldn’t help but smile a little when you heard the word “boyfriend.”

“No.” He shook his head. “Just regular talking. When you saw her text on my phone, she was telling me about her cat getting spaded. And I didn’t know what that meant so she had to tell me. I should’ve just googled it.”

You laughed softly at that and he did too. The tension was let out of the conversation and you could finally breathe again. When you stopped laughing, you finally looked in his eyes.

“Do you still have feelings for her?” You asked quietly.

“For her? No.” He laughed. “Those are long gone. I have feelings for someone else now.”

“Oh God. Don’t even tell me. I don’t want to know.” You groaned and buried your face in your hands. Peter looked at you for a minute until an idea came to him.

“Actually, uh, I came looking for you because I was just making another video. Wanna be in it?” Peter asked and took out his phone. You looked at him like he was crazy and could not believe he had just asked that during that moment.

“I’m not really in the mood right now, P.”

“Come on. I can’t make it without my muse.” He said and nudged you slightly. You couldn’t help but to smile at that and reluctantly nodded. He propped up his phone against the bleachers and pressed record.

“In a world where two best friends have no idea how to communicate despite spending way too much time together.” Peter said in a fake deep, gravely voice.

“Okay. Shade. That’s fine.”

“What will it take for them to admit they have feelings for each other?” He kept the voice as he looked at you.

“Wait, what?” You asked and looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. Peter smiled softly at you and shrugged a little.

“What’s it gonna take?” He asked again in his normal voice.

“I don’t understand.” You laughed nervously.

“I watched the video from before. From the subway. I heard what you said.” He admitted.

“Oh shit. You watched it?” You grimaced.

“Uh huh. So if you’re Eponine, I guess that makes me the idiot who didn’t realize his best friend was in love with him?”

“I guess so.” You said with a tight smile and still didn’t understand why he wanted to film this incredibly awkward conversation.

“You know, if I didn’t have a video of it, I never would have believed that you liked me.” Peter told you.

“You wouldn’t? Why not?”

“Because it doesn’t seem possible that the coolest girl I’ve ever met liked me.” He replied.

“You think I’m cool?” You asked skeptically.

“I think you’re the coolest. And you know, I watch the videos I take of you all the time. And half of them are just clips of you existing. So I do notice you. It just took me a second to catch up.” He told you. A smile tugged at your lips as you stared into his big brown eyes.

“You’re my best friend.” You told him. “I’m sorry I want more.”

“I’m not sorry.” He shrugged.

“You’re not?”

“I’m just sorry it took me so long to wake up and find that what I’ve been looking for has been here the whole time.” He said as he hooked his pinky under your chin and brought your face close to his.

“Wait, why does that sound so familiar?” You wondered.

“Don’t think about it too hard.” Peter whispered right before your lips touched. You kissed for the first time under the bleachers but it could have been in a palace for all you knew. The world disappeared around you as Peter slipped a hand behind your head to deepen the kiss. When you pulled away, you rested your foreheads together and laughed nervously together. It was a good nervous, a happy feeling of anticipation.

“Was that Taylor Swift?” You realized when you finally placed where you knew that like from.

“Shh. No.” He shook his head. “But yes, it was. You’re not the only one with good music taste.”

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