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tomhiddleston-is-mischief · 2 years

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No Words Needed

TASM!Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: Peter’s love language is something of which he is very deprived. You’re his exception.

Peter Parker is incredibly touch starved.

Living without that typical parental warmth surrounding you can do that, he figures, especially after losing the uncle who so kindly took him in along the way. Of course, that’s not to downplay the generous sacrifices of his Aunt May, who he undeniably adores beyond words.

Yet, as much as Peter’s grateful for what he still has left in his life, he wishes affection could be a more constant presence.

In all honesty, he’s learned to want that sort of thing through his work as Spider-Man—most commonly because of the longing he feels when he can save someone and return them to their loved ones. He gets the opportunity to connect a family together again, to see friends embrace and cry and reach out for one another, to watch on as couples kiss each other’s cheeks and foreheads feverishly, as if they’ve just realized the fragility of existence in that very moment. He’s fortunate enough to have people he’s saved extend an arm to him in thanks, people who’ve hugged him just for the sake of needing it. He’s torn to bits in the circumstances where he can’t save everybody. But he takes the risk of personal heartache with a grain of salt, and he pushes on to prevent their frequency.

Peter Parker is touch starved, but he earns enough compensation for it by rescuing others from the same fate.

He figures that it’ll be another ten, fifteen years of waiting to get that sort of thing for himself—hell, maybe he’ll never get it. Some days, he thinks that he’ll eternally have nobody’s arms to wrap around him but his own.

But then there’s you.

You discovered that he was Spider-Man by complete accident. Peter has an awfully reckless tendency to pull off his mask whenever he thinks he’s alone, even if he’s not in the safety of his own room. On a night when he needed a moment to think, following a very lengthy and tiring few hours of chasing police radio calls all over the city, he just so happened to find himself sitting atop the roof of your apartment complex (and by just so happened, he was being completely intentional in choosing your building, although not yet realizing the weight of his decision).

It was a comforting spot to him—almost as good of a view as the Empire State Building, whilst also providing with him a dose of nostalgia that made him think of all the times you’d brought him up there after school; it was a tradition he’d passed on in the few weeks prior, given that his hero duties started taking up a considerable amount of his time. He found himself missing it.

What he also missed was you walking out onto the roof, right up until you tentatively gasped out his name into the frigid evening air. Peter nearly fell off the side of the building in shock, but you were quick to pull him back to you, very easily pulling an honest explanation out of him when he began to see the concern in your eyes.

He didn’t expect a lot of things that happened that night, but the one that stunned him to his core was the way you hugged him after everything was thrown out in the open.

It was so warm. You were so warm. Sure, he’d known you long enough where basic touch was next to normal. A bumping of shoulders, the ruffling of hair, the unintentional brushing of hands. He saw you so often, after all. Even so, something as standard as a hug was causing a flood of emotions to rise up in him, nearly drowning him in the process, yet letting him breathe so effortlessly that his chest ached. He could feel the erratic rhythm of your heartbeat against his, could map out the grooves in your fingertips as they curled into the hair at his nape. He couldn’t help the onslaught of heat that bloomed on his face at the realization that you weren’t letting go anytime soon.

That night, you stayed up there with him for hours in the cold (although you made a few trips to your room and back with a handful of hot drinks and much warmer clothing at the ready, praying that Peter wouldn’t dart from your rooftop without warning), convincing him to open up sides of him that nobody had ever seen before. You offered him a wool blanket to drape over his suit and a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and it was like a light-switch got flipped in his head.

Peter realized that he had finally found it, not a day or a decade too late, and that he never wanted to live without it again.

He became much more affectionate from then on, keeping a gentle hand on the small of your back whilst navigating the school halls, brushing stray wisps of hair away from your face, and letting you fall asleep against his shoulder on the subway. No matter how many times he’d initiated contact before, it always sent your mind into a frenzy—especially when he would lean down and murmur, “is this okay?” beside your ear whenever his proximity bordered on near-romanticism.

Of course, you wouldn’t mind if it was romantic, but Peter didn’t need to know that.

You’ve discovered that it gets even more pronounced when he’s Spider-Man, because apparently a mask enhances a person’s confidence tenfold. Seeing videos of his cheeky commentary and caring acts of heroism paled in comparison to watching him work in person. You got the opportunity to learn that firsthand when—soon after his accidental reveal to you on the rooftop—some deadbeat decided to rob the convenience store on 14th by Midtown, and you were left to hide in the back corner, ducking beside a wall of energy drinks that you were damn near prepared to start throwing at the criminal if you had to crouch down any longer. Luckily, Peter caught wind of the situation before you could resort to such irrational aggressions, and he took care of it with practiced ease.

“You alright there?” he had inquired once he discovered your “hiding” spot, reaching out a hand as if you were the only person in the place—which you most definitely weren’t. “What’s a sweetheart like you doing caught up in a situation like this, huh?”

You could only stare back at him with an unimpressed look etched on your face—although the way he murmured sweetheart echoed in your head the whole time, like a church bell going off on a Sunday morning. “I just wanted to grab some snacks before my friend came over later.”

“Yeah?” he hums, amusement ringing clear, “Tell your friend that he owes you.”

He was the friend, of course. You had agreed to meet up after his daily patrol for a traditional session of studying and watching TV, but apparently the world had slightly modified intentions before that.

“Oh, don’t worry,” you assured him, sarcasm layered into your voice. “He’s already paid me back.”

Peter then insisted on carrying you out of the store (because there was some shattered glass on the floor, he reasoned—but it was more sincerely because he’s an asshole), and as a result, you couldn’t stop thinking about the way he had held you so effortlessly for the rest of the afternoon; an arm secured snuggly around your waist, the other supporting your legs up; it was as if you’d just said your vows on the way down the chip aisle.

God, his proximity was overwhelming. How in the world could one person’s touch be so intoxicating?

Unbeknownst to you, Peter was asking himself the exact same question. He was always this close to telling you how he felt, always acknowledging the urge to confess to you as the words sat on the tip of his tongue, but nothing had ever actually come out before. He remembered the night that his identity was revealed to you, and he longed for that sort of moment again—even if just to convey the sheer amount of affection he held for you.

But the back of his mind itched with doubt, and that doubt morphed its way into a sort of selfishness that made his stomach churn. He couldn’t stand the thought of having you distance yourself from him if his feelings weren’t returned. After all, you were his best friend above everything else.

So he stuck to the warmth of you like a moth to a flame, getting just enough before the absolute blaze that was you could singe his wings. It was a game of give and take that fueled you more than he understood, and it only kept rising in stakes as the days trudged on.

Your hand on his face here, his hands on your waist there.

The smudging of whipped cream against a nose, the bringing of a fork to parted lips to steal a bite of pastry.

Breaths of a shared closeness mingling on a winter’s day, a quick peck on the cheek in parting—

“Hey,” he finally can’t stop himself from saying, sitting up straight on the cushioned stool that he’s pulled up to your family’s kitchen counter. He’s watching you intently as you scour for drinks in the fridge, your face illuminated by the fluorescent glow of the open door. Even hunched over and with your body partially engulfed by the stainless steel appliance, Peter finds himself thinking you haven’t looked more lovely a day in your life.

Maybe it’s because of the kiss he can still feel lingering on his skin—on the place just above the right hand side of his jaw, right where you’d left it before dashing off to third period that morning—but even without that, he’s almost positive you’d still look just as beautiful.

You eventually maneuver out from the door, triumphantly grasping two cans of soda in your hands with a grin before kicking your heel back to shut it. “Hey,” you mimic. “What’s up?”

You know what’s up, seeing as you almost banged your head on your desk in Physics earlier out of pure frustration. The awkward atmosphere was most definitely due to the impulse you hadn’t gained the strength to fight, and you’re sure enough that you’re about to pay for it with the way Peter shifts in his spot.

He offers a slanted grin when you slide a cola over to him, snagging it before it can topple over and get shaken up. “I was going to ask you that.”

“Were you now?”

You’re avoiding his gaze, putting all your focus into pulling the tab of your drink open with a satisfying hiss, downing a gulp of it before he can say another word. Something like hope (and a hint of bemusement) flutters in Peter’s chest.

“Do you really not want to talk about kissing me all that much? I’m hurt.”

“On the cheek, Pete. I kissed you on the cheek. But anyways, do you want to order delivery tonight?”

“You’re not answering my question.”

You finally glance up at him, shooting a pointed glare his way. “There’s not much to discuss. It was an accident, and I’m embarrassed about it. There. Now—delivery or something else?”

Peter frowns, the brightness in his pretty brown eyes dimming, and you find your heart seizing in your chest at his change in demeanor. He seems almost…disappointed. But as soon as you see it, he shakes it off just as quick.

“Why do you need to be embarrassed about something like that?” He mutters softly. “We’re best friends. I’ve seen you do more outrageous shit than something as simple as a kiss, you know.”

Simple. Your heart twinges at the term. “Doubtful.”

“How about that one time you bought a pound of gumdrops on Christmas Eve and threw up trying to finish the bag before midnight?”

“Okay, except for that.”

“I had to hold your hair up for ten minutes straight,” he persists. “I still don’t think I’ve ever seen such colorful—”

You’re smiling now. “Alright, alright, I get it! Hush, before I lose my appetite for the day, Parker.”

Peter just laughs, reaching a hand out across the kitchen countertop and placing it over your own. You let him.

“See? Nothing you could ever do would make me not want to be around you. So talk to me.”

He squeezes your fingers in reassurance, and against your better judgement, your heart palpitates. Damn him and his unrealized talent for flirting. You take a deep breath, mulling over whether to dodge his curiosity, to pin your butterflies to a corkscrew board and keep them there, or to let them fly out into the world without restraint.

“I don’t know, Peter,” you eventually sigh. “It just happened. To be honest, I didn’t really think about it before I did it.“

He’s rubbing soothing circles against your knuckles now. You’re hyper-aware of how sweaty your palms must be. “Why is that?”

“If you mean why I didn’t think about it, then…” Choose. Now or never. “I kind of just wanted to.”

Bye bye, butterflies.

A beat of silence. You don’t realize it, but Peter’s breathing has turned almost dangerously shallow.

“Oh.”

Of course, how could you possibly realize such a little thing, at least with the way the corner of his lip is quirking into the faintest of smiles?

You can’t bring yourself to comment on it aloud, but seeing how you can feel his eyes watching your own—tracing the subtlety with which you’re just barely outrunning the interlocking of his gaze with yours, like a game of cat and mouse—you’re sure he knows well enough. Peter’s never needed many words to read your body language just fine, and you with his in turn.

He’s enjoying this.

It’s a wordless communication, but timid hope radiates off that stupid little grin of his in droves. One that he knows you can see.

“I should’ve asked you if it was okay,” you manage. “I’m sorry.”

Peter’s out of his seat now, hand slipping out of yours as he makes his way in front of you. He makes up for the lack of his touch quickly, though, as a hand reaches up to tilt your chin—gently coaxing you to look him directly in the eyes for the first time since the conversation started. The sodas are growing lukewarm on the counter, all but forgotten.

“I already told you,” he says, breathy and low and so very pretty, “you don’t need to be embarrassed. It’s okay.”

You nod, feeling the hairs on your arms stand. The irony of it almost makes you laugh aloud, but the rate at which Peter is closing distance is enough to captivate you into silence. You wonder if he can hear the sound of your thoughts from this far—a difference of inches; an unknown territory that teeters on the verge of something completely relationship-altering.

A proposition.

“And what about now?” He ventures. “Do you still want to? Because I really do.”

You could sense it coming—could recall the memory of lingering touches that lasted far longer than needed, could feel the electricity that shot through you every time—and yet, it still made your heart stutter with unbridled elation.

“Yes, Peter,” you affirm, grinning. “Please do.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, bridging the gap and pressing his mouth to yours like his life depends on it. It tastes like cola, sweet and syrupy and surreal, and you’re blown away by the gentleness with which Peter kisses you, letting the pads of his fingers trace the outline of your face with the delicacy of handling porcelain. The colors of monarch, morpho, and swallowtail wings erupt behind your eyelids like fireworks.

You have to convince yourself to take a breath of air, but Peter doesn’t stray from you for long, eliciting a fit of laughter from you when he plants a flurry of pecks to your cheeks, nose, and forehead.

“Peter!” You groan, halfheartedly pushing him by the shoulders.

“What?” He teases. “This is payback for this morning!”

You surge forward to press one last kiss to his lips, backing away from the kitchen with a bounce in your step. “Shut up and get your coat, you ass. We’re going out for dinner now.”

Peter easily catches up to you, a goofy smile stretching across his face. “Like a date?”

“Yes, like a date.”

You blink owlishly when you turn to find Peter offering his arm to you, but you happily loop your arm with his after the second of surprise passes.

“This is much better than ordering delivery.”

“I swear, Parker…”

Peter was touch starved. As in, he used to be. And if you had anything to say about it, he wouldn’t face that issue ever again.

8K notes · View notes

tomhiddleston-is-mischief · 2 years

Note

Hellooo, could you please write an Andrew! Spiderman fic where like the reader is very shy but Peter has a crush on her and he’s very flirty so he just enjoys making the reader blush and stuff? And it ends in a kiss and just general fluff 🥰 and with she/her pronouns Plz and thank you <3

It's new years soon so-

HAPPY NEW YEARS BTW!

But, yo, thank you so much for sending this in, and I hope I wrote what you wanted!

Please let me know what you think and send in more requests if you want them!

Hope you enjoy!

Request Masterlist.

All because of a drawing.

Warnings= none- just general fluff. And many spelling errors.

Pairing= The Amazing Spider-man x Fem!reader.

Summary= Peter becomes suspicious when the reader hides a certain drawing from him. What will he find... and what else will he find out?

AN= no matter how my times I watch things about certain characters, I fail to bring them justice when it comes to writing. I really hope I wrote Peter well, and please let me know what you think, or what I can do to make it better!

~~~~~

The maze-like halls filled with bodies of flesh and the familiar scent of B.O never seemed to get old, no matter how many days you arrived at the thing that you call a school.

I mean, sure.

You were as glad to get an education as the next privileged person, but the entire atmosphere of the place you were condemned to for a couple more years made you feel like you aged a lot quicker than you actually did.

The halls were dim with lights that usually flickered at the very start, or end of the day, and the only other light source you could get was from windows that were never there when you got to the lockers.

I mean, it wasn't like it was super comparable to the lighting of, let's say, a prison...

But you wouldn't argue if someone had brought it up.

So here you were. Head hung low. Bottom lip tucked beneath the other while you mildly ducked your way through the surrounding chatter that seemed to join into an echoing chorus.

And despite what you may think, this wasn't that whole edgy thing where you were 'scared of people' ... fully- but either way.

Large crowds of very wild bodies always became suffocating in one way or the other. A thing that you would happily strive to avoid at any given moment.

But much like the many cases where the quiet person actually gains a solid friend.

There was only one exception.

“Peter.”

Your voice was breathy. Relief completely flowing through your entire system, especially when that specific person was revealed through the flailing limbs and cackles of students that bounced around very enthusiastically.

It took you a moment. Nerves bundled and feet almost fumbling over each other while you took the chance to clear your throat, “Peter?”

The kid himself was stood in front of one of those 'memorable' boards that had a glass seal over it to embrace its delicate contents which were just... pictures of staff...

That Peter may or may not have taken.

... himself.

“Hey... Oh, hey! Hey, Y/n,” he began after a few blinks of his doe eyes, and he shifted his feet along the floor until he properly faced your body that stopped quite a few steps in front of the guy that always seemed to look the same.

I mean, there practically wasn’t even a time where Peter didn’t have that damn camera with him almost everywhere he went.

But don't even get me started on the skateboard that hung loosely against his back.

“Early morning?” you quirked with a minor smile on your lips that soon grew when Peter ended up nodding his head very tiredly. “Yep...” he responded through a sigh.

“Had to finish the last part of the homework for Ms. Cosgrove,” Peter continued on with a sluggish pace before he gestured towards you with that cheesy grin displayed on his lips, “Which I wouldn't have completed if it weren't for your reminder.”

“So thank you.”

“Well, what can I say?” you responded with a gentle shrug that earned an eyebrow raised from the guy that stood in front of you, “That's what friends are for, right?”

Peter chuckled. Head shaking and all before he practically slid across the reflective floor to position himself right by your side, “Maybe a little more than that, but sure...”

“Sure, I'll give you that,” he remarked while having the audacity to hook his arm over your shoulder, which you can bet your ass gained him a swift elbow to the side in return.

“Pete- Do you even know what class we have?” you questioned with very audible confusion when Peter randomly started edging you to move forwards, and you quickly got a simple shrug in your direction, “Nope. But I think I'll let fate take me to paradise,”

“Which is very much my destination, if you're there with me.”

“Peter,” you warned through a voice that closely resembled a sigh, and a laugh immediately rumbled from Peter's chest when your head lowered from the choice of wording.

“What?” he managed to breathe through his giggles and even shook your shoulder when you started doing everything you could do to avoid those beckoning eyes on his.

“I'm just stating facts!”

Despite the energy that always seemed to surge through a certain Peter Parker, both of you had ended up at your next class after that irreplaceable bell had rung through the many rooms and halls.

You were simply sat at your designated desk. Chatter and laughter of all kinds, never failing to take up the atmosphere while your body eased into one of the plastic chairs that would always be found in schools.

It was the start of the class.

That time when the students, in your case, could faff about, have conversations, while your teacher took the chance to write up the set things needed for the lesson on the board.

And though you had the opportunity to do the things your peers were doing...

You never actually did.

In fact, almost every single lesson, or any moment that you had time to yourself in a place like school with hundreds of people you either didn’t know or talk to.

It was always the same.

Your head was lowered. Music softly blasted in your ears while your forearms rested against the smooth surface of your desk with a mind that was always swarmed with so many things.

But one of your many skills was in fact the ability to put those thoughts in your mind on a simple, little piece of paper when you had a pencil in hand.

Exactly like you did right now.

The light, long tube was ever so delicate as it grazed against the page of your sketchbook in a specific pattern. Every single stroke, or even dot, was placed with an intricacy and confidence regardless of what was being drawn at that given moment.

You were compeltely zoned in. Making sure that every single stroke of that pencil lined up perfectly with the music ringing through your ears and the piece you wanted to create in the first place.

It was an action that would’ve led you to forget where the hell you were...

If it wasn’t for the sudden nudge you got on your back from the end of a pen.

Your hand stilled. Taking the time to stretch your fingers out in response to the previous repetitive movements, which ended up being a little cut short as you then felt even more nudges in the same exact place.

Just a little harder this time.

So, now, after your hands removed themselves from the page, and pulled out the set of headphones you had in each ear, your brain was welcomed back to the familiar ambience of the classroom that never seemed to change, “Psst!”

“Y/n, hello??”

Peter.

“Oh,” you breathed out after blinking a few times and quickly twisted your body round until you could grip onto the back of your chair, “Hi... What- Are you okay?”

“I’ve been trying to get your attention for like five minutes now. You’ve been ignoring me,” he practically whined while his hands dramatically waved in the air, “Pete, I had headphones in,” you both verbally and physically pointed out as you stared back at him with narrowed eyes.

“You really couldn’t hear me?” the kid responded with a slight tilt of his head, and you continued on to just stare at him in disbelief, “Well, yeah... The entire point of wearing headphones isn’t really to pay attention to the people around me.”

“I thought that was quite obvious.”

Peter let out a sigh before moving his dramatic hands to rub at his tired face, “All right, all right, I know,” he breathed out and continued his movements for a few seconds until that spark of energy shot back through him, “Okay,”

“Are we still on for tonight? You know, about me coming to yours?” Peter questioned while tapping his fingers against his desk and your head nodded without a second to waste, “Yeah, of course. I was the one to invite you.”

“Good... Good- cool.” he noted with little nods of his head which only caused your eyes to narrow almost instantly, “Are you... Pete, are you nervous? You know you don’t have to be-”

“Have you been drawing?”

How the hell did he...

Oh.

The pencil was still in your hand.

“Oh, uh... Yeah... Yeah, I have,” you confirmed slowly while rolling the tube of graphite between your fingers with a certain confusion that was present in response to seeing the object that was believed to have been put down.

“Well...?” Peter’s voice called through your ears, and you blinked a few times yet again before meeting those eyes that awaited your response. “Oh...” you breathed out before taking the chance to clear your throat, “Yeah-”

Hold on.

“No!”

In an instant, your hand, which even now still held the pencil in it, smacked over your mouth within seconds in response to the way the words had forcefully blurted from your lips.

It wasn’t as loud as you thought it was, but it still had at least a few people looking your way in confusion.

Including Peter, who just sort of blinked at you for a good minute.

“... No?” he repeated with eyes that narrowed very sceptically and continued to do so when your head shook ever so quickly, “Nope... No, you can’t, uh... Sorry?”

The hand, that wasn’t anxiously held over your mouth, was hurriedly moved to place itself over the drawing you had cautiously sketched across the set page moments before, especially when Peter tried to raise himself to look over your shoulder.

But every single time he did so.

You did too.

“And why is that?” Peter spoke when he succumbed to the fact that he just wasn’t going to see it that way, and you swore to god that you hoped he didn’t take note of the way you gulped.

“I, uh... It’s... Um.” you stuttered out. Wracking through any and every thought that sparked through your brain while Peter’s narrowed eyes stared right into your soul, “Look, It’s just-”

“All right, class,”

The teacher!

Oh, thank the lord.

“Come on guys. It’s time to calm down for now,” she spoke up after fulfilling the work needed on the board. And no words could describe your utter feeling of relief in that very moment.

So, after sending the very eager Peter a shrug that immediately made him part his lips to interject your movements, you hurriedly spun round so that you faced the front like everyone else.

“Here’s the simple rundown of what we’re going to be doing today,” Ms. Cosgrove spoke up once again with a clap of her hands while your body lightly sunk into your seat in response to the feeling of eyes on the back of your head.

But no matter what you felt in that moment.

There was no way in hell you were letting go of that damn book.

~~~

Being back at home and in your room was the best feeling ever after leaving a place like school.

It was a controllable atmosphere.

A place where anything and everything that was done within those very walls, that you could call your own, was achieved exactly when and how you wanted it to be.

Music could be played at the level of sound you wanted. The things around your room were allowed to be set in their rightful places along the walls, on top of shelves, dressers, and even on the ceiling.

It was a den.

A place that you should feel comfortable in no matter what.

There was a soft sigh that sifted through your lips as your spin finally relaxed into the spongy thing that was your mattress.

You were tired. Body sprawled out across your bed with eyes that were set closed due to the urge of sleep that consumed all of your senses in a feeling that increased with every single minute that ticked by.

Obviously, you weren't going to let it happen.

You had invited your friend over, and it would be rude to sleep at a time like this...

But, I guess that only really applies when that said person had actually arrived in the first place.

I mean, it wasn't this unheard-of thing where Peter was late to certain events or general things with a set deadline, so you weren't really thaaaat bothered.

In fact, you were very much relaxed.

Your entire body almost felt like it was laying upon a giant marshmallow that had you right on the cusp of falling into a deep, and much needed, sleep after a day surrounded by many bodies of flesh that you hardly even knew...

But right as that was about to be given to you-

Knock knock knock

It was taken right back.

The taps were light. A very familiar pattern of knocks on glass that you almost weren't able to hear over the music that softly played through your room, but immediately recognised the moment you could.

“There you are,” you whispered with a light smile that continuously grew on your face, and pushed yourself up from your bed when your eyes inevitably were welcomed back to the light emitted from the few lamps that were placed anywhere they could be.

You were... mildly anxious.

You hadn't changed your clothes since you got back to school, having been more focused on calming your mind.

And now here you were. Rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet when they were officially met with the floor of your bedroom, while your fingers lightly fiddled with the ends of your fabric shirt.

But did you look good enough?

Though, you wanted to change in response to your stress-ridden brain, and give in to the many thoughts that plagued your mind. The sound of those three knocks properly caught onto your ears again.

And this time you weren't going to make him wait.

So, after completely forgetting about your very active nerves, your socked feet slid against the smooth wood floor until you arrived at the windows that gave you a connection to the outside world whenever you wanted it.

And there he was.

That pest of a man who wore that generically cheesy smile across those lips of his. A smile that felt like it was going to make you melt right then and there every single time it was presented to you.

“You're late,” you spoke with a managed tone that hardly revealed how you felt in that moment when you slid that certain window open, and you were met with a sigh that you read almost instantly.

“I know... I know, Y/n, I’m sorry,” Peter sincerely admitted through mild strains as he pulled himself through the opened window, “Really, I am...”

“It's okay, Pete,”

“I just... You know, it just... It just happens,”

“Pete.”

“I was trying to get here, but then I remembered I had to get stuff for May- for Aunt May, and then I had to get that back to her before I forgot,” the kid purely rambled while pulling the glass window closed, and you could only watch with fondness from the edge of your bed.

Because this was priceless.

“Look, it was a lot, I'm sorry- And I just... I just... what? What? Why are you... Why are you laughing?”

Your hand was held tight across your mouth practically the entire time, but apparently, that movement wasn't enough to hold off your amusement, “Pete, look, I'm not... I'm not mad,” you began after composing yourself and properly faced him the moment you removed your hands.

“You're... not- you're not?” he quizzed with the same narrowed eyes that questioned you day-to-day, and you didn't waste any time in proving your honesty with active nods of your head, “I'm not, I promise, okay? I promise,”

“Would I have left the window open if I was?” you pointed out with eyebrows raised in pure fondness... But Peter, however, was practically frozen in place in response to your words, “It was... The window was open?”

You nodded once again, “Yes. You just had to pull on it. It wasn't locked... at all.”

“Oh...” Peter breathed out with a sort of blank look that caused the smile on your face to remain, “Oh?” you repeated teasingly, and the guy blinked, many times, before a slight chuckle split from his lips.

His head lowered. Hands held slightly over his face in an embarrassed manner until they were removed when he fully took the steps needed to be officially stood in your very own room, “We don’t...”

“We don't talk about this,” Peter warned with an accusing finger that had your head shaking with amusement, “Okay?” he continued on and you raised your hands when he started moving closer, “Okay, okay!”

“It will never be heard of again!”

Hours of precious time had gone by without acknowledgement.

The sky that could naturally brighten up certain parts of your room darkened to its usual night state while the stars that scattered around it joined with the street lamps, and man-made lighting, in illuminating the world beneath.

You and Peter were sat on either side of your bed, faced towards each other. The guy himself was sat with his legs crossed in front of your pillows, while you sat across from him in a closely mirrored position.

Papers of schoolwork were scattered across your soft sheets because of the whole needing to study thing...

However, that was a little tricky when it came to the two most easily distracted people to ever exist.

Especially when they were together.

“Well, did you read it?” Peter spoke after a clear of the throat. Making sure that the words were actually coherent, considering the amount of sandwich he had just shoved into his mouth, before he met your eyes that only gave him disappointment in return, “No,”

“No, I didn't get to, remember?” you pointed out while you switched around two pieces of paper, “What?” Peter dragged on with an honestly hurt filled expression on his face, and you nodded your head almost immediately, “Yeah, I haven't even finished the last one yet,”

“Oh my god, I can't believe you,” the guy sat before you practically whined with light shakes of his head, and before you could even properly react, he held his hands up in front of himself, “All right, that's it.” he began once that mouthful of what only looked like bread was fully down his throat.

“Peter, I'll catch up, okay?”

“No, no, it's fine- it's fine,” he dismissed with waves of his hands and your eyes fondly rolled when he shifted a little against your bed, “How about this, all right? How about this- The next time we are both equally free... We go to the library,”

“Pete,” you huffed out with a tilt of your head which made his hands wave more frantically, “No, I'm serious? Okay, I'm serious. What if we did go? What's the problem?” he pointed out with an active persistence that wasn't going to let be up soon, “Come on, please? Please, Y/n!”

“It's so bad without your wonderful presence right there beside me.”

He was practically begging.

His hands were now held together that shook over and over again, while his eyebrows rose inward to create that certain facial expression that once again made him look like a puppy.

A look that you couldn’t resist.

“Fine... Fine! Okay? But you're- You're planning it because I don't want to wait outside for an hour!” you huffed out in defeat before lowering your head shield your amusement when Peter pumped the air with his fist in victory, “Yes!”

“Yehehes!” the kid cheered with almost endless giggles that conflicted your attempt in hiding your reaction to his pure joy.

“All right- Okay, okay, that's totally okay, that's fine,” Peter insisted, nodding his head an eager amount of times while his hands drummed against your mattress in excitement, “You won't regret it, I promise you won't regret-”

“Y/n?”

The muffled sound had caused both of you to halt in confusion. But that was until you recognised the voice.

One of your parents was home.

“You... You better behave,” you warned with an accusing finger that had Peter holding his hands up as if he was caught by police, and your intimidating demeanour only eased when he made a 'zip the lip' kind of motion over his mouth.

Your head shook. The amusement in your system choosing to stay while you made your way towards the door that could finally be opened when you were stood in front of it.

“Yeah?” you called through the door when it clicked open and shifted the weight of your body to one side. “Hi, hun! Just got back from work, if you didn't hear,” your parent began through a less muffled voice that had you almost bouncing from how impatient you were.

“Are you hungry? Can I make you something to eat?” they finally got out, and one heck of a sigh sifted through your lips. You turned, holding the cool doorknob in the contrasting heat of your hand while your mouth parted to speak, “Hey, do you want-”

But it halted almost as fast as it started.

There, in his hands, was the very book that held your many drawings inside it.

His swift fingers flicked through the page, almost as if he was searching. Looking for something that would solve a sense of curiosity that always seemed to ache at his bones.

“Y/n? ... You there?”

You were frozen. Eyes fixated on the number of pages that Peter had gone through in his state that was completely zoned into the point that he didn't even know that you were just stood there, watching him.

However. When it came to that page. The page that you had literally hid from him in the middle of school.

Your feet weren't stilled anymore.

A hurried “Hold on!” was blurted from your lips in a split second before the door, which was once open, slammed shut in response to your mighty hand.

You ran. Socked feet purely skidding along the smooth wood to the point that when you actually ended up at the side of your bed, you had stumbled...

But it wasn't enough to stunt your movements.

In one fast reach that anyone else would've missed in the blink of an eye, the book that was once held in Peter's grasp was completely ripped out of it in such a frantic state that he had almost missed it himself.

But there you were again. Your body froze from head to toe, stuck in place, while your wild eyes searched back and forth, up and down, over every single spot on Peter's face that to your horror was very much blank.

Your lips parted. Any and every excuse, or apology rolling to the end of your tongue...

And then he smiled.

Peter smiled.

It was a wide smile- A WIDE SMILE - that could've either made you shiver in complete fear, or cause you to sweat in absolute embarrassment, “That's... that's me.”

A thing that, rest assured, both happened at the same time.

“You drew... me- You drew me?” Peter repeated through that soft, low voice as if he tried to convince himself of what he saw. And the grip you held on that damn book, which was most definitely clamped shut in your hands, increased by a million per cent.

The breaths that you so desperately needed to filter through your lungs were currently preoccupied with being stuck in your throat. Wild eyes further widening until you just couldn't take it anymore.

You lifted the book upwards with both of your sweaty hands. Holding the thing right up, in front of your face, while you let out a much-needed sigh of air.

But that little moment of relief was cut just a little bit short when your eyes caught onto the pair of feet that appeared underneath the bottom of the book you held.

And that was when you realised that Peter was moving towards you.

Your breath hitched. Panic purely surging through your entire system, which in return, immediately made you retaliate by making your feet start to move as well.

It was silent.

The only sound being your hurried breaths while you backed your way around the edge of your bed, which only continued this game of follow the leader as Peter was hot on your trail.

Your breath was elevated. Heart most definitely hammering in your chest in a way that never seemed to calm down. And it sure as hell wouldn't have happened any time soon, as within the next step that you took...

Your back was suddenly met with this cool, solid surface.

A wall.

Oh, you were undoubtedly panicking now.

I mean, all you could do was stand there with the book held up high while those inevitable sounds of light footsteps rung closer and closer through each of your ears.

And when the moment finally came when they stopped. The end of shoes scrapping against the floor. Your breath hitched within seconds once again.

Dread, fear, disbelief and many more emotions purely swirled around your stomached and continued to stay there when about two fingers were suddenly placed across the top of the book tightly held in your grasp.

Before it started to get pressured down.

It was a slow and only mildly forceful movement that ended with Peter breaking into light giggles when your face was finally revealed from behind the leather and paper.

“You really like my face, huh?”

He teased you.

The first thing he did, after all of that, was tease you?!

Are you serious?!

A huff of air sifted through your lips in a way that made it sound more like a whine, and you started to lower your head in response to a new layer of heat settling down across the skin of your face...

However, someone appeared to disagree with your movements.

Those same fingers that discarded the only shield that was there to hide your embarrassment were suddenly hooked under your chin before doing the exact opposite of what you were trying to do yourself, “It's okay...”

“Hey, it's okay,” Peter insisted in a voice that could barely be classified as a whisper, and your body tensed when you were met with those big, brown doe eyes that stared back at you with so many emotions swirling within, “You know... I like looking at your face, too.”

“I like... I like the way your face lights up when I mention your favourite things,” he continued on with that same low but light tone while his fingers gently twisted a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, “I very much like the way your face just goes bright... bright red when I get you with my... my attractiveness- I don't know how you do this?”

And just like that.

The moment was lost.

Both you and Peter had descended into a fit of giggles, despite your flustered state, while the attempt of seriousness lasted for only minutes.

“I'm sorry... I'm sorry,” the guy before you practically wheezed with active shakes of his head. Trying anything and everything to regain that sense of sincerity as he sucked in a few more breaths for composure.

But was he really wrong, though?

Your body shook. Laughter surprisingly beckoning to pass through your lips despite your disbelief of the current situation as you lowered your head enough to nudge Peter's chest with it.

And though you still had many more laughs to get out.

It suddenly seemed to fade when you inevitably rose once again.

Because there it was.

That moment of realisation that you had only heard about in movies, books and even comics of how close the two love interests were in proximity, which in this case was pretty close.

I mean, every breath that Peter's body struggled to let out in that moment could be felt against the skin of your face that was already hot enough as it was.

The two of you were frozen. Silence layering over the tension-packed air as Peter's eyes continuously, and anxiously, went back and forth between flickering around the very ones that stared back at him and the features that he never really got to see before.

Especially up close.

It felt like hours had passed. Both of you just stuck in that same position while two pairs of eyes gazed at each other as if they were staring at a piece of art.

And then it happened.

That fateful situation that people dreamt of, that characters dreamt of, for years had finally been offered to you.

Peter started to lean in. The hand that was once under your chin returning to its rightful place as he moved forwards in what felt like slow motion.

A pace that was carried out in such a way that he could see every single reaction you held on that face of yours while he moved his head closer and closer...

He stopped.

This was it.

This was the moment that would fulfil the dreams that had plagued his mind for weeks- months on end without your knowledge. And now after all this time, he had found that it was the same for you?

The girl, literally, of his dreams liked him back?

“Can, I...?”

It was quiet. The words heavily let out of those damn lips back to being served with such a lightness that could barely be passed off as a whisper while the question rung through your ears over and over again.

But the singular moment that his thumb trailed up to your chin before grazing over the skin of your bottom lip.

I think he already knew your answer.

After what yet again felt like hours of the two of you just standing there, basking in each other's close proximity, it was time to fulfil the thing you had been subconsciously waiting for. Seal the deal.

So, without wasting anymore valuable time, your head rose with Peter's hand still lightly gripped under your chin, and you titled it right before your lips had officially met.

And my god was it perfect.

I mean, this was finally it.

That moment that many kids, adults, fictional characters had dreamed about for so long, and now you could feel it as a certain warmth spread through your body from head to toe in a matter of seconds against those soft lips that happily welcomed you.

Your fingers had trailed up along the back of Peter's neck in a way that made him physically shiver under your touch before they met with the strands of thick hair that you loved to see oh so much.

The two of you somehow moved closer. Peter's free hand appearing on the other side of your face to cup your cheek, which ended up with your back being fully pressed up against the wall that had you pinned to a certain someone's liking.

It was addictive.

The pure sparks of energy that surged through both your and Peter's systems. The warmth, which mimicked the feeling of taking that first sip of a hot drink after a day of cold weather.

It had you weak at the knees.

The two of you parted. Hot and heavy breaths escaping both pairs of lips in a matter of seconds, which then went on to dance across the skin of either face when your foreheads ended up propped against each others.

You were stuck. The entirety of your body weight depended on a solid wall and the man that seemed to have you completely wrapped around his fingers without him practically having to do anything.

He just had to be there.

“Wow,” Peter finally managed to get out after so long of him trying to get absolutely anything to roll off of his tongue.

I mean, he was just as shocked as you were as he took a moment to settle his mind.

His forehead gently rubbed against your own for a second, basking in the pure feeling of heat and love that radiated off of your skin, before he leant back to see what he had now claimed as his.

But despite that general fact. He looked anxious.

A mixture of both that and utter disbelief swirled through those damn eyes while one of his hands slowly moved to grip at the neck of your shirt, “Wow, okay... Okay,” he repeated slowly as if to convince himself that the recent events had actually happened.

And once that joyous smile began to curl at your very lips.

I think he was sold.

Peter chuckled after just staring at you for a second. The act of him shaking his head while the cheerful laughs slipped from his mouth completely mimicked your previous moves from earlier, and you couldn't help but smile even wider because of that.

“You...” the guy before you tried to start after straightening himself up again, however, he ended up tucking his bottom lip under his top one when he got ahead of his thoughts, “You have no idea- No idea just how long I've been waiting to do that,”

“No idea,” Peter repeated through that soft, low voice yet again, and you couldn't even put into words how giddy that made you.

The way his eyes danced across your features, the way his hand maintained its hooked position under your chin while the other had its fingers freely fiddling with the fabric of your shirt that surrounded your neck.

He really did have you pinned.

“It's the same for me,” you finally confirmed with a more nervous smile, but that entire feeling faded within an instant when Peter displayed his reaction.

His own smile was so wide that it made his eyes, that swirled with adoration, crinkle at the corners. His eyebrows were raised inwards out of pure happiness, and his both hands moved back towards your face before cupping your heated cheeks.

“This... God, this is so surreal,” Peter breathed with a few shakes of his head before he lowered it to your forehead. And once again the two of you leant into each other. “I know...”

“But I will never stop bragging about how I kissed you first,” you continued on through a few giggles that just slipped out for some reason, but that, thankfully, resulted in Peter huffing out a laugh.

You felt his body shake. The rumbling of such an action seeping from his stomach to his throat, all the while his arms snaked their way round your relaxing frame until he could just hold you there, wishing that he never had to let go, “Well...”

“I'll just be bragging about how I kissed the Y/n L/n,” Peter's simply remarked through a muffled voice before letting out a laugh. Because even though he couldn't see your face, he just knew that you had rolled your eyes at him.

But you felt... good.

You were happy. Pete was very much happy as he practically clung onto you like a koala.

What else in the world was better than this?

“How could I get so lucky.”

~~~~~

Thank you so much for reading if you did!

I could spend hourssss just writing about my boy so send in however many requests you want.

They will take a few days to create cause I tend to ramble and I'm also not magic, so don't expect them to be made instantly.

But I can say that I will never pass up an opportunity to write for Spider-man.

If there are any ways my writing actively bothers you, please let me know because I am still learning and I want to do your requests justice.

I hope you are all having a wonderful day or night and happy new year to all of you when the time comes!- Alex :)

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