int-writersmind

[int-writersmind]

Naughty Reindeer

A little NYE spice addition to I Hate Christmas, Peter Parker! , could be read as a standalone.

Warnings: A little smut, f receiving oral

~

You couldn’t tell if it was the late hour or the many glasses of cheap sparkling wine, but everywhere that Peter touched felt electrifying. It’s December 31st, not long before the Times Square ball was set to drop. 

You were in the kitchen, getting another bottle, when Peter appeared behind you, snaking his arms around your waist, his head falling to your neck. He nuzzles his face in the crook, while his fingers find their way under your shirt and below your waistband. Your head rolls back, a slight moan escapes from your mouth. “Oh, Peter, what's this for?”

“I’ve been so busy that I nearly forgot a promise I made to someone.”

You turn around so your back is resting on the counter, hands reaching out to catch Peter by the shirt, pulling him to you, kissing him. 

“You’re telling me I no longer have to be Christmas celibate?”

Peter smiles into the kiss, “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying, naughty reindeer.”

~

And that led to where you are now, the two of you groping at each other like horny teenagers in the back of a parent’s borrowed car. Hands were on chests, lips on each other, on jaws, necks, and even collarbones. Your fingers go to Peter’s pants where they lower the zipper. Peter stops you. “No, you first, it’s the least I can do after putting you through that horrible, no good, terrible list,”  he says, the last part dripping with sarcasm.

“Yeah, actually it was.”

You beat him to the chase, undoing your pants, and lifting your butt while you wiggled them off. Peter beats you to your panties, lifting them off as you take a swig of sparkling wine straight from the bottle. Peter runs his hands up your thighs, as you let yourself fall back on the counter, your body twitches when he makes contact between your legs, you sigh and shutter as Peter’s mouth moves against you. He reaches for a hand, holding yours tightly the faster he goes.

He knew your body so well, what you liked, what you didn’t, what makes your body move in certain directions. And he also knew that you liked it when he held your hand. How the gesture made the whole act just way more intimate than usual. How it represented that this wasn’t some one-night stand or late-night booty call. It was hot, sexy, lustful, and in a strange way connecting. Or maybe you were overthinking all of this under that hot sweaty mess that Peter had made you.

Your stomach begins to tighten, your breathing quicking, as one of Peter’s hands holds a leg up at the joint, thumb resting right next to your knee. Peter’s hand that’s holding yours tightens as you feel yourself start to tip over the edge. You resist the urge to reach for Peter’s hair as you hit that peak, back coming up just slightly from the counter.

When it’s all over, with you coming back down to reality, you sit yourself up by your elbows looking at Peter, who’s resting his chin on your lower stomach. “So…does this make up for putting you through that list?”

“Hmmm…nearly” You answer

“Nearly?!” Peter crawls up your body kissing available skin before stopping at your lips. Before he can kiss you, you stop him with a finger.

“It’s almost midnight.”

From the kitchen counter, the two of you watch the living room TV as the countdown happens.

5

4

3

2

1

“Happy New Year Peter.” You say.

“Happy New Year,” Peter responds.

You take a swig from the bottle. “Too many more nights with me half naked with you between my legs.”

Peter’s face reddens as he goes to kiss you again.

~

Might take a small break after this, anyway Happy New Year's Ya Filthy Animals, Love ya!

[int-writersmind]

I Hate Christmas, Peter Parker {Part 3}

Peter Parker x f!Reader

It’s simple: You don’t see what the big fuss is all about surrounding Christmas, but Peter Parker thinks that this is unacceptable and puts you through the last of a multiple step list to make you fall in love with the holiday. 

{Read Part 1}

Warnings: Fluff,

Word Count: 1.8k

Authors Note: In order to get this out today, this is not well edited. I will fix it soon.

Peter rarely spent the night, often heading back into the city after a few hours of sleep. But this morning, a shirtless, sleeping vigilante was a welcome sight in your bed. You very carefully climb out of bed, limbs slowly reaching over Peter’s body. 

You were just starting to prepare your coffee when Peter shuffled out your bedroom, dressed only in his underwear and messy hair. “What if breakfast in bed was on the list?” Peter comes up next to you, kissing your cheek as he goes to pour his cup. 

“Please,” You smile slyly as his arm wraps around your lower waist. “You don’t need Christmas to do that.”

“Yeah I know, but I do have something for today.” 

“Really?

“Yeah and I know at first you’re gonna hate it, but I promise that at the end–”

“I’ll love it so much that my heart will grow ten times it’s size.” You interject.

Peter glares at you before downing his drink. “Trust me ok?”

Peter stands there arms folded. “And will Peter Parker go out in his Spidey cosplay or birthday suit?”

It takes Peter a second before he notices his current situation. “I left some stuff here right?”

You think for a moment before taking another sip of your drink. “Yeah, but I think you have to borrow one of the coats.”

~

You found yourself standing in the cold of Bryant Park. You felt your cheeks start to turn red by the time Peter found you. He was in a nice dark blue pea coat, jeans and sneakers. He kisses you on the cheek before looping your arm in his. “Ready?”

“I want to say yes, but I don’t know what I’m agreeing to.”

“Fair enough,” Peter leads you through the sitting area, towards the temporary winter village that is always set up during the holiday season. A crowded place with overpriced items, tourists and gullible natives. It had its charms but it mostly had drawbacks. “What I’m proposing is a full day filled with Christmissy fun, but in an appetizer style, since we don’t have that much time.”

That was an understatement, it was less than a week till Christmas, so everything was sent into overdrive and increasingly more busy. It was so busy that it was a struggle for the two of you to fit down the rows of little shops. You tried your best to put on a face that didn’t imminently give away how much you hated all of this.

“As much as I like spending time with my adoring boy-toy, a full, uninterrupted day together seems unlikely” You gently squeeze Peter’s hand to get him to look at you. “It’s not like you can just up and ignore your other job.”

As the two of you reach the end of one row, a stand that was giving out free samples of warm cider. You wince as you take a sip, Peter gives you a reluctant smile. “I think that NYC's finest can keep the city safe today.”

You give him a look.

“Listen if things get that bad then I’ll go…and only then.” Peter finishes his drink before taking yours and finishing it right there.

“Fine Parker, let’s try to enjoy this day.”

~

As the two of you slowly shuffled your way through Bryant Park Winter Village, You settle on buying one thing from a booth with monogrammed Christmas stockings. You try to hide your smiling face from it, but Peter quickly catches a photo of you with his camera you didn’t realize he brought with him

After the initial snap you jokily start posing. Peter indulges with one extra, you sticking out your tongue.

There was only one close call, when some sirens caused Peter to snap his head in that direction. You place a hand on his arm, giving him an understanding glance. Peter takes your hand in his. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily” he says.

Peter grabs your hand and leads you to a PhotoBooth where the two of pose for pictures. One with you kissing him on the cheek, another where you both cross your eyes and make stupid faces, a third where you guys make a threatening faces, hands up ready to fight and, lastly a genuine smile because why not. You collect your photos from the outside after spending way too much on them and choosing a festive border (Peter’s choosing). “God these are actually more expensive than I remember." You say.

"Same, anyway, let's head to the next place." Peter says.

~

So your plan is for us to just stare at Radio City?” you say, as you stand across the street, watching patrons line up and enter the building.

“Well, did you want to watch the show?” Peter asks.

“Oh no.”

Some nearby buskers start playing Christmas songs, as the two of you start walking down the sidewalk. “The real reason behind this was that Radio City is just on our way to our next place, just thought you would get some residual Christmas magic.”

You just shake your head and pull Peter closer to you, arms linked with one another. You guys continue to walk down the sidewalk as the buskers continue their show. Instead of just walking by like every New Yorker, he slows down, forcing the pair of you to join the small cluster that has surrounded the performers. Peter takes off his camera and hands it to you as he goes and joins some people dancing to the music.

You giggle quite loudly, trying to cover your face with your hand. You pick up the camera, lining up your eye to the viewfinder. Using some basic camera skills that Peter taught you one date night , you snap a photo of Peter locking arms with a random passerby, dancing in a circle.

When Peter notices you and the camera he unlocks from the stranger and grabs on to you. The two of you sing and dance to the music all the way to the end of the song, you carefully holding the camera in your hand.

At the end of the song, with a scatter round of applause, the two of you stand close to one another, breathing heavily from the erratic dance moves. “So did I get through that ice cold, Christmas hating heart?”

You crinkle your nose, “Maybe just a crack.”

~

The last location was ice skating at Central Park, and as the two of you got there the sun was beginning to get low, casting a warm amber glow on a cool day becoming an even chiller night. 

Peter was a wobbly mess, like a newborn giraffe who was born with ice blades on his hooves. You somehow were a graceful ice princess, spinning circles around him, almost as if all those causal visits to the ice skating rink in high school were actually worth the price of admission. “Oh come on Petey! You’re telling me you can walk on synthetic webs the size of tightropes but can’t handle some ice and blades?”

“I don’t see how that applies to this situation.”

You brake in front of him, before offering him your hands, taking his and leading him forward while you skate backwards. “Balanced babe, it’s all about balance.”

After a few strides, and with your help, Peter was able to finally pick it up. Letting go one of your hands, using the other to spin you in a circle before pulling you back to him.

The two of you skate for a few minutes in silence, people watching , families, friends, couples. You catch yourself smiling at these people, but do nothing to get rid of it. 

Snowflakes start to fall from the sky, you notice them first falling on a middle-aged couple as the two of you pass by, and as children cast their gaze upwards trying to catch the flakes on their tongue, you mimic them as well. Letting your tongue stick out, catching a few cold drops. Was it childish? Yes? Unsanitary? 100%, but it was fun to indulge.

Click, another photo, you turn your head towards Peter who’s smiling, “Good picture?” You ask.

“Always.”

~

And at the end of the day, Peter walks you back to your apartment building, and back to your apartment, through the door, lips crashing into one another, bodies bumping into the Elf on the Shelf, hands getting lost in each other's hair. Before anything else can happen, a flurry of police sirens go by your windows, more than typical in the city, a potential big deal. 

You lay on the couch, half supporting yourself as you watched Peter contemplating his next move. He looks at you, almost asking permission, “Go ahead Spider-Boy.” He smirks back but before he gets changed you pull him to the couch, lips close to his. “But don’t think I don’t remember your promise you made to me for going through all this.”

Peter smiles, “Of course.”

A few moments later you watch as Spider-Man jumps out your window, sitting by for a few seconds longer before getting up from the couch and picking up the Elf on the Shelf. “Count yourself lucky you didn’t get scared tonight.” You say that thing.

Epilogue

The light from the christmas tree was the only thing that illuminated your apartment, Peter and You sat on your couch handing each other presents. You came home after a long Christmas day with your parents (at the suggestion of Peter.), it wasn’t as unbearable as you thought it would be. The old folks kept the arguments to a minimum, Mom made some delicious cookies, and Dad gave you some cash to help pay your bills. It was low-key and not in your face Hallmark movie feeling—just how you like it. Peter and You agreed to meet up at your place after he came back from visiting May, to spend the evening together and give presents to one another. 

“No, you have to admit it!” Peter said quite loudly, holding your present hostage in his arms.

“Ugh, no I will not!” You roll your eyes, falling back on the couch before sitting back up. “It was just a dumb little game–”

“A dumb little game that I won.”

“Won? Wow, that's an overestimate of events.”

“Oh please,” Peter says, he hands you the present. “Open this and maybe you’ll change your mind.”

You glance at Peter before opening the box. Inside, tissue paper, you remove that and see a photobook– To Little Miss I Hate Christmas, Peter, written on top. You flip through the pages, photos from various moments this month, some you remembered and others you forgot about. A picture of you in front of your favorite coffee shop, another of you from behind looking at your Christmas tree, another where you held the peace sign up in front of an unlit tree, and lastly some photos from your super packed day. You look up at Peter, a smile creeping on your face. “Oh Peter, I love it. Wait, quickly open mine.”

You hand Peter your present, bringing a hand to your mouth, biting on your nails. You watch slightly nervous as Peter rips the paper off, opening the package– A camera strap with embroidered spiders hidden throughout. “This is great.” Peter says.

“Are you sure? Not on the nose?”

“Of course not, it’s wonderful” Peter leans over and kisses you on the lips. “What about your present? You are a believer now.”

Your grip on the book is a little tighter now, “Well I won’t say that Christmas is now my all time favorite holiday but…it’s…more bearable with you around.”

Peter just smiles at you, “Now that was corny.”

“Shut up!” you throw the pillow at him. “You liked it, I know you did.”

“And I couldn’t ask for a better ending.”

~

Hey, thanks so much for reading till the end. This wasn't really how I wanted the series to come out but I still had fun. Anyway happy holidays and come back for a new year's gift???

[int-writersmind]

???

I'm no longer unemployed...

[int-writersmind]

I Hate Christmas, Peter Parker {Part 2}

Peter Parker x f!Reader

It’s simple: You don’t see what the big fuss is all about surrounding Christmas, but Peter Parker thinks that this is unacceptable and puts you through step two of a multiple step list to make you fall in love with the holiday. 

{Read Part 1}

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 1.2k

Author's Note: Not well edited will fix soon; Another Christmas song suggestion, a personal fave

That stupid little elf that greeted you as you left your apartment every morning was a reminder that Peter’s little list was far from being over. That stupid little elf, with it’s stupid little plastic face, creepy smile and knowing eyes.

“It’s an elf on the shelf, kids love them!” Peter said when he placed it on the way out of your apartment after the two of you spent way too many hours decorating your place. You hated to admit it, but you actually had fun. But the elf on the shelf was not the cherry on top that Peter was so keen on it being.

“You’re telling me that children actually enjoy the idea of some vile creature constantly watching them?” you responded.

Anyway, you were dreading whatever was next, it was the second week of December and there wasn’t any movement from Peter’s end. Granted he was pretty busy with his second life, dealing with a group of baddies that decided that this time of year was the perfect time for a group project of evil–Peter’s words, not yours. 

You were admittedly gutted, Christmas was far from being your favorite holiday, but at least it gave Peter an excuse to annoy you more than often, and more Peter was always better. But you knew and understood everything that came with Peter’s other job.

It was late now, soft snow was falling from the night sky. Anywhere else that would be magically and beautiful, the very definition of a White Christmas. But all you could imagine was the aftermath that came when it snowed in the city. Train delays, black ice, yellow snow, and that god awful gray snow that somehow, not matter how careful you were, your foot always found itself in. It wasn’t Christmas fault of course, annoying snow could come at any time over the winter (and sometimes Spring) season, but the damn thing was always linked to the holiday.

You were loss in your work, trying to catch up on some documents before the holidays caused everyone to not check their emails until the new year. You were snuggled up in some pajamas pants that once had a matching top and a raglan t-shirt from the men’s section. As you are sip from your hot chocolate, you don’t even notice the subtle tapping coming from your window. Alone on your couch, you just chuck up the sound to some apartment ambience. It isn’t until the tapping become more preseinset that you notice it.

“Oh gosh, sorry,” You say to Peter as you open the window, reaching for a hoodie as the brisk winter air rushes in. Peter just sits on your windowsill, pulling his Spider-Man mask off. Your little apartment was tucked in a strange corner of the city, one where most of your windows were facing a wall, some Peter never really feared that someone was watching the two of you.

“Good thing I wasn’t bleeding out.” Peter just swings his legs in, not fully coming into the apartment.

“Not this time at least” You respond, “So what’s up? Can you stay?” You gesture to the Spider-Man costume. 

“Oh yeah, the city’s quiet tonight,” He glimpses at the city behind him before returning this attention back to you. “I was actually here because of…the list”

You roll your eyes. “Really, and what could possibly be on the list that involves Spider-Man?”

“The Tree.”

You try to stifle a groan, he was talking about the Rockefeller Christmas Tree, the one Christmas tree that all sane native born New Yorkers knew to avoid like the plague around this time. Yes, yes, it was very pretty with its gigantic size, thousands of lights, and of course that enormous Swarovski star on the top. The tree was nice to view on TV during the tree lighting ceremony and through other people’s social media, but actually being there, in the thick of it, was terrible. The crowds, the cold, the totally unoriginal photo ideas. “Peter–”

“Now listen here Debbie Downer,” You make a face at Peter, who puts his hands up in surrender. “If we go now I bet you it will be a fun time.”

The two of you just stare at one another, “Fine, I’ll get my coat.”

About fifteen minutes later, Peter has the two of you swinging through the snow and cold, both whipping past your face and ears, causing a slight stinging sensation. The damn coat, hat and scarf did nothing to cut down on the weather’s feeling. 

Since the two of you started dating and some time after Peter told you the truth of him being Spider-Man, you had your fair share of swinging through the city moments. It didn’t mean that you were used to the feeling of constantly falling through the sky to only be pulled forward. Oh c’mon this is slow Peter once said.

Thankfully the journey wasn’t as long as Peter quickly lands the two of you on a rooftop across the street from the Tree. “See, not too bad?” Peter says.

“Sure, sure, sure, sure.” You answer back, sitting at the edge of the building, feet dangling over the side, it takes Peter a few moments before he sits next to you.

Now without a mask and spotting a brown bag, Peter sits next to you, nudging his shoulder into yours, you can’t help but smile as you pull out a Christmas tree shaped donut out the bag.

As you bite into the somehow still warm pastry, glancing at the tree and all it sparking glory before looking at Peter. “Two Christmas trees on the list Parker?”

“Well, this wasn’t originally the plan ok,” Peter scoffs as he bites into a Santa shaped donut. “It was going to be a whole day, with ice skating, tree viewing–”

“I’m just joking,”You lightly punch him on the arm, taking another bite from the donut. “I actually quite like this, just the two of us, here, looking at the tree. You get to like, actually enjoy looking at it without getting in any one’s way. “

“That’s true, just the two of us up here…how many people can say they saw the tree like this?”

“Well, probably everyone that lives in this building?” You both laugh as the two of you finish the donuts. You lean over and kiss Peter, savoring the sweetness from his lips. You can’t help but lick your lips staring at him as you do so. “Just so you know, I really appreciate this.”

“I know,” Peter’s eyes glance downwards towards your lips. “Does this mean you're starting to love Christmas now?”

“Hell no, but I can think of a few ideas that might change my mind.” You lean in, hands resting on his chest, pecking at his lips again.

“Not yet,” He moves just slightly away from you, “But I promise the next one will be worth it.”

Before the two of you kiss again, the lights on the tree go off, you stare a little loss at one another. “Peter?”

“No Spidey-Sense, nothing’s wrong.”

You pull out your phone and check the time—midnight “Guess it's much later than I thought it was.”

“God, same, I’m so tired.” Peter lets his head fall on your chest, you hold him in your arms.

“Come back to my place Spider-boy,” You gently run your fingers through his hair. “You’re freezing and I have a hot chocolate with your name on it. “

“Sounds good to me,” Peter looks up. “But only if we can watch a Christmas movie.”

“Of course.” You say with just a hint sarcasm

~

Sorry for the late upload and the short length just not in the right head space right now, but I'll live. try to get something up on Wed but no promises in case I forget. But stay with me pls!

Anyway, to lighten things up, what Christmas movie do you think Peter would pick?

[int-writersmind]

I Hate Christmas, Peter Parker! {Part 1}

Peter Parker x f!Reader

It’s simple: You don’t see what the big fuss is all about surrounding Christmas, but Peter Parker thinks that this is unacceptable and puts you through step one of a multiple step list to make you fall in love with the holiday. 

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 1.7k

Author's Note: I decided to put a Christmas song suggestion for immersion, not b/c I'm currently in love with Laufey right now...

~

“You what?!” exclaimed Peter, quite loudly.

“Jesus, calm down,” You lean forward, just slightly, over the table, careful to not tip your mug of half decent hot coffee. “All I said was that I don’t really like Christmas that much, that’s all.” 

“You Grinch! You Scrooge!” Peter throws his hands up in an over exaggerated motion, he looked like an oversized toddler. Peter puts on a slight pout as he leaned against the wall, feet outwards, looking over the rest of the coffee shop. “I-I mean, you live in New York City, this place practically invented contemporary Christmas!”

“Now that’s an exaggerated statement.”

“I know that,” Peter turns back to you, folding his hands on top of the table. “But there’s a reason why so many Christmas movies are set here, why so many Christmas events are here. It’s because Christmas is just better in NYC!”

“More like Christmas is more annoying in NYC.” You gently pat Peter’s hand before downing the rest of your drink. “Peter, babe, honey, I’ve lived here my whole life don’t you think I don’t know all this?”

“Yeah, babe-honey, so have I. It’s why I love the holidays.”

“And that's why I hate the holidays!”

~

You thought Peter would grow bored of your Christmas conversation on your way out the coffee shop and down the street, but he only continued his long rant. It was the first day of December and with the new month came the sudden spark of festive, holiday flare, much to your chagrin. The addition of a new holiday drink at your favorite coffee shop had sparked the conversation in the first place. Peter had ordered it and once you decline the same, suddenly came the sudden barrage of questions. 

The two of you held hands as you continued down the long city sidewalk, Peter using his other hand to gesture wildly about Christmas. You decide that enough is enough and pull Peter off to the side, dodging tourists with tons of shopping bags. You reach out for Peter’s other hand, bringing it down with the other, squeezing ever so gently. “Listen, Peter, I appreciate how passionate you are about Christmas, the holidays and what-not, but there’s nothing you can say to convince me to suddenly fall in love with this time of year. This feeling has been there for years.”

Peter looks into your eyes and for a minute it seems as if his attention is elsewhere until he jolts in surprise, eyes widening to match. “I’ve got it!”

You can’t help but roll your head back in defeat. “Oh no…”

“Maybe you're right,” Peter squeezes your hands, bringing your attention back to him. “Maybe there isn’t anything I can say to you to convince you that Christmastime is the best time of year, but I can do things instead.”

“Oh Peter! You naughty little reindeer..” You tease.

“I don’t mean that!” Peter quickly kisses your grinning face, “That could be on the list only after–”

“After?!”

“Only after you complete my list of activities that will definitely, 100 percent make you fall in love with Christmas and everything that comes with it.”

“Oh, you have a list?” You cock one eyebrow up.

“Hypothetical list, it’s being finalized.” Peter pulls you in close, his hands resting on the small of your back, your hands resting on his chest. “But I think I know what to do first. Do you have a Christmas tree? Decorations?”

“Tree, yes, my roommate left one before she left. Decorations…no, I’m sure my cousin has some extra, I’ll stop by after work today.”

“Ok, I’ll meet you at your place later tonight?”

“Yeah, and–,” You move in closer to Peter, eyes shut, lips millimeters away from each other. “Your little list is not gonna change my mind.” You kiss him gently, one hand resting on his cheek before pulling away, Peter slightly chasing you back. “See you tonight.”

~

“I can already tell i’m gonna hate this” You hold up a shiny red, classic looking ornament by the wire, looking at it as if it was dead fish caught on a hook.

“What?! You have the easy job!” Peter calls back as he clicks the last piece of your ex roommate’s Christmas tree together.

It was night now, Daylight Savings causing the city to look later than it actually was. The two of you had stayed committed to this little game of Peter’s. After calling your cousin about picking up some spare decor (which she eagerly shoved into your arms), and lugging the oversized box on the train back to your place, Peter showed up with a determined expression and a carton of egg-nog. 

You take out the other ornaments from their box, inspecting each one, before setting it off to the side. Peter saunters over and plops on the floor next to you, going through the rest of the box to find more decorations for the tree. “This feels tedious.” you say, looking at all the stuff you laid before you.

“Oh c’mon, this will be great.” Peter says as he untangles some garland.

“That’s what you said about the egg-nog.”

“Yes, yes I did say that, but to be perfectly honest, I’ve never tried egg-nog until today so…that’s on me.”

You smile at him as you take the final ornament from the box in hand, a golden ball that had swirls molded into the plastic. “Ok let’s decorate this stupid tree.”

~

Half an hour in, with tolerable Christmas music playing in the background, the tree was finally starting to come along. You and Peter stood on either side of the tree, hooking various ornaments on branches. As the last ornament looped on, Peter went over to the box to pick up the garland he detangled earlier as you stood back and admired the tree. 

“See, beautiful.” Peter said coming up from behind you.

“What, me? Of course.”

Peter just rolls his eyes as he hands you one end of the garland, you each start to place it around the tree, passing the end from one hand to the other. “Doesn’t this remind you of being a little kid, putting up all your favorite ornaments?”

You just shrug your shoulders, “The older I got I just dreaded putting up the tree. It’s started out fine of course. But then someone puts the wrong ornament somewhere, or one side of the tree lights are not working, a favorite ornament gets broken…boom arguments. Mom, Dad, pissed at one another, little ole me just trying get the hell out of dodge.”

Peter gets the end of the garland, securing it at the bottom of the tree. “Sounds like…an experience.”

You just smile at him as he comes to stand next to you. The two of you look at the tree, its soft, golden white lights, the shiny, almost sparking ball ornaments on each branch.  “No, no, it’s ok, my parents love each other, but they're just…really good at arguing with one another. I, personally, don't care for it, so I try my best to avoid it.” You reach for Peter’s hand, interlocking your fingers with his. “After my dad accidently broke one of my favorite ornaments and got into a fit with Mom, I just decided it wasn’t worth it anymore. Swore off decorating Christmas trees.” You lean your head on Peter’s shoulder. “It’s funny, I wasn’t even that mad that it broke…”

“What was it?” Peter rests his head on yours.

“Some old time-y phone box, something silly I saw at a Christmas pop-up when I was like 6-7 years old.”

The two of you just stand there in the silence for a moment.

“Pick a new one.”

You move your head off Peter’s shoulder, turning to look at him, “What?”

“Pick a new favorite ornament.” Peter answers, “You don’t have to keep it forever, but it can just be your favorite for this year.”

“Hmm, fine.”

Your eyes skim over the tree, you land on the red ornament before jumping to the golden one, before your eyes find something much more garnish. A little ceramic coffee cup, what better to remind you of how you ended up here. Decorating a tree for the first time in years with your boyfriend who’s hellbent on getting you to like the holiday again.

Your fingers wrap on the ornament, lifting it off its branch, “How about this?”

“Prefect.” Peter says as you hold up the ornament in hand, the light glinting off the piece. Peter tosses something in the air upwards, shooting some webs to stick it to the ceiling. You put the ornament back in its original spot before looking at Peter. “Oh, wow what’s that?”

You look up, mistletoe dangling crookedly. “You know those things are poisonous right?"

“To eat, not to kiss under,” Peter pulls you in close by the waist, eyes darting from your lips to your eyes. “Plus it’s fake.”

Your own eyes glance at Peter’s mouth before looking back at his eyes, “Just because I didn’t run away from decorating a tree, you think you deserve a kiss?” You smirk, a hand going to the back of his neck.

“Oh come here you little Grinch.” With a soft hand on your cheek, Peter pulls you in for a kiss. Those lips, which you became so familiar with, soft and warm, sweetened by the eggnog, engulf yours. His tongue entering yours, playing with yours like it did so many times before. This action was so common, kissing each other was almost like second nature, but sometimes–like moments like this, it almost felt like kissing for the first time, but better. Kissing someone you could really trust, someone who really cared about. It was gushy and corny and everything else that people made fun of, but it was so worth it.

The two of you break off the kiss, foreheads resting on one another.

“So, step one of your list completed?” You ask.

“Nah.”

Your head shoots upwards, looking at Peter with a confused look, to which he chuckles at.

“We still have the rest of the apartment to decorate.”

You groan, falling limp in Peter’s arm. It was all for show of course, but you had to commit to the bit, letting all your weight on to Peter’s one arm. You knew not matter what, he wouldn’t drop you. “God I hate you.”

~

Hello there! Thanks for reading Part 1 of this multi-part X-mas fic that was definitely not inspired by me at all hahaha... Anyway, I'll post on Sundays to get this series done by Christmas but no promise, but expect weekly uploads at the very least. Also this is meant to be mostly Fluff but if you Naughty Reindeers want some Spice/Smut I'll think about it 😉. Alright bye Void!

{Read Part 2}

[int-writersmind]

Songbird & Spider

Peter Parker x f!Reader

You're Peter Parker's neighbor, an aspiring songwriter who can't help but play your work-in progresses out loud, and Peter can't help but overhear.

Word Count: 1.3k

Fluff

~

The first thing Peter remembered about you was that song you played outside your window one early morning. You were sitting on the windowsill, one leg inside your apartment the other resting on the fire escape. Your eyes were closed as you strummed along to a jazzy little tune on your guitar, half singing the words, half mumbling along. Peter was coming home from a late night patrolling the city, he was going to go through his window since it was still so early, but settle for the roof so as to not disturb your singing.

The two of you almost stumble into one another when you exit your apartment and as he enters his, damn New York City apartments and its tight hallways.

“Late night?” You say.

Peter shrugs and says, “Early Morning?”

“Yeah, I picked up an opening shift.” You turn and lock your door, giving a quick goodbye. “See ya.”

Peter watches you as you hurry down the stairs.

Later that day, after a few hours of sleep, Peter decides to take to the skies of the city as Spider-Man, just swinging by and keeping an eye on things. Unknowingly he passed by the little diner you worked at in the morning. He only knew since he ran into you one day when coming back home, you in your bright diner outfit you tried to hide with your jacket. He couldn’t help but hang back for a minute, seeing you inside. Watching you attend some tables, a smile on your face as you held a serving tray with multiple plates. You had a natural aura that made people drawn to you. You liked the attention, but not in a self-centered kind of way, but in the way that showed that you were meant to be a performer. 

Another day, when Peter was catching up with his dirty dishes, he heard you from the other side of the apartment’s thin walls. You were stomping your way, mostly likely back from a long shift, since the sun was currently going down. Peter couldn’t help but open his window as he had a feeling that’s where he’ll find you. 

And there you were, still in uniform, sitting on the fire escape, guitar in hand, book off to the side. “Trying to catch a sneak peek?” You say, eyes still closed.

Busted for his peering, Peter just nervously glances around before just resolving to the situation and steadying himself on the fire escape. “Just getting some air.”

“Hmm, sure” You smile at him, peeking with one eye before going back to strumming. “Had an idea on the way back from work, I didn't want to forget.”

“I’ll leave if you want, you know, if you want to be alone.” Peter stumbles out.

“What kind of performer would I be if I shooed off an audience,” You stop playing for a moment to write something in your notebook.”Even an audience of one.”

“Now I feel kind of special.”

You smile back at him, before readjusting your guitar and clearing your throat. “Can I play you something?”

“Uh…I’d be honored” 

You nod before you strum the guitar, playing a few chords that reminded Peter of a jazzy type of beat. When the words came, your voice was low, rich and just a tad husky, dragging some notes to the melody of the song. 

Peter was starting to get into the music when suddenly you stopped short. “That’s all I got so far, I’m sure the rest will come. Thanks for listening.”

“Anytime.”

You check your watch, silently cursing to yourself before turning back to Peter, “Anytime huh? Well I play at the club around the corner from here most nights. Maybe I’ll see ya.”

You go back inside your apartment, leaving Peter alone with an open invitation and his thoughts. 

Peter did visit the club, kinda, except from the outside and not as Peter Parker. It was about a week later, he came around after a run in with the Shocker left him itching for something less jolt-y. But there you were inside the club, he made your voice out from the open windows and door. He recognized some of the songs that you played, many jazzy interpretations of modern pop songs. Unknowingly, he had stayed for your whole set as he watched you walk out of the club's door by yourself, guitar case strapped to your back. 

He kept an eye on you, promising himself that he’ll only see you home. He swung from building to building, making sure you didn’t leave his sights. There were a couple of run-ins that he thought might escalate into something, like bumping into the shoulder of a partially grumpy passerby or a group of shady individuals that gave you a second glance. But none of that phased you, you weren’t delusion or even naive. You were confident and that confidence radiated off of you that signaled to others that you weren’t just anybody to mess with.

As soon as you made it to the apartment building, Peter decided that you were safe enough to not have some spandex wearing hero watching over you, even if that was a gross oversimplification of the materials of his suit.

It was until a few hours later, with the sun starting to pierce the sky, Peter decided to return back home. He landed on the far side of the apartment’s roof, on the other side of the door that led to the actual apartments themselves. As he was changing back into more Peter appropriate clothing when he noticed a familiar tune. The same tune he heard that early, rainy morning, the same tune as the day you caught him listening. He peered around, trying his best to not to alert you of his presence, leaning against the outside door to hear the song to completion. 

The song was a mix between something jazzy and something folky, for lack of better words. It seemed to be a story of a stranger who has strange hours and does strange activities. The stranger helped those who needed it without asking for anything in return. The stranger was known to all but no one knew the stranger, not truly it seemed. It ended on a mystery, with you no longer singing and just carrying on the instrumental from the verses.

“Just as good as last time.” You say out loud.

Peter was perplexed, “How did you-”

“I’m a musician,” You simply state. “I have great ears. And you’re not as quiet as you think you are.”

You turn around, still continuing to play, as Peter asks, “So, who’s the Stranger in the song?”

“Hmm,” You think it over, “A neighbor of mine.”

“Do I know them?”

“I think the two of you are well acquainted.” 

“Really?” Peter tries to rack his mind, who could this neighbor be?

“This neighbor of ours…it is actually quite famous. Locally famous, but I think news travels far.”

“Huh…I think I’m stumped.” You turn around in a lazy circle, slowing down your playing, but not stopping. “This neighbor likes to frequent the roof but sometimes, when he thinks everyone's asleep or no one’s watching, likes to go through windows.”

Peter tries, and fails, to hide his stunned look. “Ummm, I–”

“The apartment has dreadfully thin walls,” You walk closer to Peter, dipping your head close to his, “And our fire escapes are awfully close to each other. But don't worry stranger, your secret is safe with me.”

You give the guitar one sharp little strum before moving it away from your body. You lean against the edge of the roof, glancing over at the city surrounding you.

“So will this stranger make any more appearances in your songs?

“I say so,” You grin, “He’s much too interesting, but I would prefer to get to know him a little more.”

“Do you?” Peter moves in close to you, placing his hands on the edge of the roof, staring at you as you bring your attention back to him.

“Why don’t you come back to my apartment so I can play you some more songs, over a couple of drinks?”

~

Thanks for reading, comment if you like, it would be greatly appreciated and look out for Part 1 of my Christmas Peter Parker x Reader series starting this Sunday! Bye

masterlist

[int-writersmind]

I Hate Christmas, Peter Parker Teaser

“Oh c’mon, this will be great.” Peter says as he untangles some garland.

“That’s what you said about the egg-nog.”

“Yes, yes I did say that, but to be perfectly honest, I’ve never tried egg-nog until today so…that’s on me.”

[int-writersmind]

Steady?

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: It's been a few months of you and Peter's situationship, a run in with Spider-Man has you reconsidering your feelings for him.

Word Count: 2.5k

Genre: Fluff (w/ some notes of Spice/Smut nothing crazy tho)

Final Part of Potential Customer (could be read as a standalone)

The warm shine of sun was a great reprieve from the cold, brisk, late fall air. You hurry down the sidewalk, dodging and weaving through the crowd of people that blocked your path to work, you were rushing back from a doctor’s appointment in a different borough. You pull at your long red scarf, as you wait with a growing group of people for the sign to turn from a red hand to a white stick man.

Suddenly, Boom! 

An explosion from one block over causes everyone in the vicinity to scream, scramble, and panic in many different directions. You had been in the city for a few years now and understood where you lived and the type of spanx-wearing, super-powered beings that were your neighbors. But for whatever reason, the only interaction you ever had with them came in the form of watching recaps on the news or clips on social media after the fact. 

Now, you were in the middle of something major, and if you didn’t react–

“Guys I know the weather’s brutal, but I don’t think TNT makes great firewood!”

As you move behind the corner of a building, you look up and notice a red and blue figure swinging above you. That outfit and that voice only belong to the city’s resistant arachnid base hero– Spider-Man. 

You know you should get to safety, hell you really should be getting the hell out of here. But still, like many other New Yorkers in awe of the city they live in, you found yourself watching as Spider-Man tussles it out with some newbie criminals.

Spider-Man flips and jumps out of gunfire, webbing up nearby garbage cans and tossing them back in response. All with quip-y dialogue to boot. Actually, now that you think about it, his jokes reminded you of Peter’s, that customer-turned-occasional-hook-up you were seeing recently. That Peter you were desperate to make more than just a hookup–

“Make any sudden movements and I’ll blow ya brain out that pretty head of yours!”, you felt a hand cover your mouth, the coldness of the barrel of a gun pressed against your temple. “I won’t hurt ya, just need ya so I can get out of here.” said the petty Criminal, with the gun to your head and the other hand guiding your shoulder forward. The panic was settling in, but you didn’t want to make any sudden decisions that would put you in any more harm. The Criminal was panic-y himself, whipping you left and right as he headed away from the scene of the crime, his head on a swivel.

“...And this little piggy thought the Big Ole Spider didn’t see him run away.” With one sudden turn, the Criminal stopped in front of a light post where Spider-Man crouched on top of the blub. “Don’t worry, I’ll have you on your way in a jiffy.”

“Don’t you move Spider-Man! I’ll do it!” said the Criminal.

“Whelp, haven’t heard that a hundred times.”

The Criminal turns the gun outwards, but before he can shoot, a web shoots out, Spider-Man ripping it out from his hands. In one swift motion, Spider-Man leaps from the lamppost behind the Criminal. The Criminal in turn throws you off of him, causing you to fall to the ground. Spider-Man double kicks the Criminal, one in the back, one to the head, knocking him out.  

“Are you ok?” Spider-Man goes to offer you a hand but stops mid-way, his head snapping towards the Criminal. In two motions Spider-Man shoots a web toward the Criminal, pulling out a bomb from his chest, and another web shooting towards you pulling you close to him. “Hang on tight.”

Spider-Man swings the bomb so that it explodes in the air, while he swings away, you in one arm, your own arms locked around his neck.

He swings you far from the explosion, your stomach lurching as if you were on a thrill ride with too many drops, the cold wind whipping past your head. You tried your best to hold in your screams, the guy saved you, the least you can do is not blow out his ear drums. But the longer the swinging continued the more you thought he was extending this trip for his own pleasure.

After a few more swings, Spider-Man lands the two of you on a residential building's rooftop garden. He gently places you down on the ground, it takes you a minute to compose yourself.

“Thank you Spider-Man, I definitely won’t forget this day.” You say, in between gasps.

“Now you’ve joined the exclusive club of those who swung with Spidey!”

You place your hands on your hips, “Don’t know if that’s something I’m glad I achieved. Seems like you took the scenic route to get to safety.”

“Maybe I was trying to show you a good time. Can’t get those views from anywhere else.”

You felt your cheeks redding a little, “Careful Spider-Man, sounds to me like you’re flirting.”

With a quick little backflip, Spider-Man lands on the edge of the rooftop, perching like he was on the lamppost. You, now glad to be on solid ground, move closer to him, arms crossed against your chest. “Maybe I’m just a flirtatious guy?”

“I don’t know how my boyfriend will feel when he hears about this.”

Obviously, you couldn’t see, but you can almost feel the dumbfounded look on Spider-Man’s face ,like he was surprised at your response. “Boyfriend?”

“Well, I guess he’s not actually my boyfriend,” You start to pace back and forth, “But this guy I’ve been seeing…well, I don’t know…there’s just something about him. We spend a lot of time together, doing…certain activities…but after, when it’s all said and done, we just have these moments where we’re just really clicking together. Conversations about everything and nothing at the same time, sharing jokes with one another.

 “God, I just love it when he laughs, and when he smiles you can see that he has a slight chip in one of his teeth, on the left side, I think it’s adorable.” Almost as if he wasn’t thinking, Spider-Man’s hand goes to his jaw, stroking the left side of his face, strange if you think about it. 

“Sorry, I know you have tons of stuff that you would rather do than listen to some random person's relationship drama. Weirdly, you’re like really easy to talk to.” You say, rubbing your hands together before sticking them into your coat’s pockets.

“They don’t call me Friendly-Neighborhood Spider-Man for no reason.” You chuckle at his response, “Anyway, I hope you tell this boyfriend-non-boyfriend of yours how you really feel about him, I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

“Will do, and hey, stay safe Spider-Man.”

With a two-finger salute, Spider-Man backward dives off the side of the roof, you rush forward just in time to see him shoot a web and swing back to the former scene of the crime.

You back away from the side of the roof, suddenly aware of where you were, or in fact–

“Wait? How the hell do I get down from here?”

~

You burst through the front door, a few minutes late since thankfully Spider-Man left you closer to your work rather than further away, lucky huh? What was not so lucky was the five minutes it took to get off the roof.

You murmur apologies to your fellow co-worker as you take your position at the front counter, relieving them to go in the back and sort some new shipments. You barely unzip your jacket before the front door even dings, causing you to go into straight customer service mode. Well, until you notice who the “customer” actually is.

“Oh, hi Peter.” You sigh, reaching up to take off your hat, shoving it into your jacket’s pocket, shimming out said jacket, and throwing it to the side, still leaving your scarf on. “Um, didn’t expect to see you? Need something?”

“Uh, yes, no, kinda?” He chuckles dryly, rubbing the back of his neck as he approaches the front counter. “I was just in the neighborhood and thought I swing bye, ha-ha…”

“Always glad to see you,” You lean over the counter, resting both elbows on the top so that you’re closer to Peter. “Hey, you free tonight for some certain activities.” You wiggle your eyebrows suggestively, giggling to break the tension, Peter laughs back in response.

“Yeah, yeah, definitely,” Peter’s eyes dart from each of your eyes, down to your lips, then back up to your eyes. “Um, actually can we do more than just certain activities? Like dinner or something?”

You feel your face begin to heat up again, rising from the pit of your stomach, up the back of your neck, showing on your cheeks for Peter to see. “Sounds…cute, good actually, real good. But nothing fancy, I have this recipe that this elderly regular gave me a few days ago that I want to try. Says it’s popular with a lot of young men.”

“Sounds good to me.” Peter’s eyes are still locked on yours, his gaze piercing through your soul, but in a good way. Actually, it was kind of turning you on, almost more than other things he’s done to you in the privacy of each other’s beds.

“Peter, were you really in the neighborhood, or were you coming to see me?”

“Can’t both of those statements be true?”

“Oh, so you saw Spider-Man? He stopped this heist or robbery, whatever, around the block from here actually.”

Peter breaks eye contact, locating one of your hands and taking it in his. “Ugh, I must have just missed him. You’re not hurt or anything?”

“Oh no, Spider-Man made sure I was safe and sound, personally.”

The two of you laugh.

“Hey, stop flirting with the customers and do some actual work!” Your co-worker says, peeking their head from the back of the shop.

“I guess I better get out of here, don’t want to get you in any more trouble.” Peter says, looking down at your hands still intertwined, not yet ready to let go.

You bring up your interlocking hands to your mouth, placing a kiss on Peter’s. “Bye, Peter.”

You let go of him, slightly pushing yourself off the counter when suddenly Peter pulls you back close by the ends of your scarf, placing a kiss on your lips. His cold nose brushed against yours. When he moves back, lips barely away from yours, you can’t help but sigh in response. Like a character in some kind of romance novel. “Too much?” he asks.

You just smile and shake your head no, “Your nose is cold, here take my scarf.”

You lift your scarf off your head and place it over Peter’s, throwing one end over one of his shoulders. “See you tonight.”

“Yeah,” Peter walks backward, winking as he walks out the door, “Later!”

~

Ding-Dong!

Of course, the doorbell rings right at the moment when you are getting ready to make your sauce for the pasta dish. You debated whether or not to let the doorbell ring some more, finally pulling yourself away from the stove.

When you open the door, you’re met with Peter standing there with a modest, but gorgeous bouquet of flowers (one flower hanging by a thread), and your scarf hanging from his neck.

“My goodness, Peter you shouldn’t have,” Your hands hover close to the bouquet, eyes darting from the flowers to Peter’s eyes. “Ah, you really shouldn’t. I hate flowers.”

Peter’s face falls, shock, panic, and fear, (maybe everything all wrapped up at once) play across his face. “Oh-Uh, I just thought–”

“Oh, hon,” You pull him close by the ends of your scarf, mimicking what he did earlier. “I’m just fucking with you.” You kiss him gently, deepening it as Peter kisses you back. Is this what this thing between the two of you was becoming? Visiting each other at work, having dinner together, causal kisses, flowers? Peter must want this relationship to be more than just a casual hook-up too.

You both break the kiss off, still remaining close, looking at one another deeply. You blink rapidly to pull yourself back into reality. “Come in, dinner’s almost ready.”

~

Empty plates and cups half filled with budget wine lay to the side on your table in your living room. The two of you were too wrapped up in conversation on the couch to even reach for your drink.

“Yeah, I guess I was just really lucky, being in the right place at the right time to get that picture. Front page and everything.” Peter resting his head on his hand, his elbow resting on the top of the couch.

“Luck and craziness” You sat, legs tucked underneath you, body turned towards Peter, hands wringing in your lap. “You know, these conversations are actually still interesting even with all our clothes on.”

“Yeah,” he reaches for your hand again, holding it in your lap, “But maybe I’m still imagining you naked, in my bed.” He moves in closer, “Sweaty, hair stuck to your face…”

“Wow, someone’s bold this evening.”

“I don’t know, I just feel…I don’t know…”

You go to push back a little tuft of brown hair behind his ear. “I get it, babe.”

Peter groans in response, leaning forward, pecking at your lips. “I know you like using pet names as jokes, but I just…love it when you say them.”

“Ok, Love,” you say as Peter keeps moving forward until you move your legs from underneath you. Peter kisses you into the couch, holding your face with one of his hands. “Darling?”

“Yes?” Peter says, in between kisses on your lips, face, and neck.

“Can I ask you something?”

Peter stops immediately, looking at you directly, “Yeah?”

“Can we…can we be more than just…god, can we be more than just certain activities? I know you said you didn’t…don’t have the time for a serious relationship and all, and I know I said it was ok and all…

“Yes, yes, of course,” Peter says.

“Yes?”

“I-I know what I said, and maybe this-this might be difficult to juggle but,” Peter caresses your face with his thumb, “I wanted this to be more for awhile but didn’t know how to bring it up. Maybe the flowers were a bit on the nose.”

You run your hands across his face, just like you did so many times before, Peter nuzzles his face against your hand. “Ok so let’s make this official. Peter Parker, will you go steady with me?”

Peter chuckles, “Of course, I’ll go steady with you.” He kisses you deeply again, caressing your head as he does so. 

You're so caught up in the moment, in the kiss, that nothing else matters in that moment. The more he kissed you, the more your body craved every inch of his, and you felt just the tiniest of guilt for it.

“I know I agree to a nice simple dinner, but can we…”

“Oh god yes,” Peter smiles before lowering himself down your body, “But let’s start a little differently, can I?”

“Oh yes please…”

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Oh wow, first series done! I hoped you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I have another Peter Parker x Reader (since I'm still on the Parker train *choo choo*) in the tank, which I'll post Wednesday and have plans for a holiday theme PP x reader series, than maybe I'll take a break from writing Peter Parker??? Idk don't want to burn out on him but we'll see.

Anyway comment if you like, so I'm not just talking into the void, but no pressure! Thanks again and see you next time!

masterlist

[int-writersmind]

Fragile

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: The first night you and Peter are intimate together...

Part 3 of Potential Customer (could be read as a standalone)

Warnings: Smut, smut, (semi-dirty) Smut, unprotected sex (whoops), little Fluff at the end

Word Count: 1.7k

Authors Note: This series started off pretty gn w/ the Reader so I tried my best to carry that on w/ this part. Forgive me if isn't that great, I'm a cis woman trying her best, Enjoy!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

“Is this ok?” Peter asks.

“Yes. It. Is. You flop against your bed, elbows holding yourself up, slowly opening your legs, giving Peter space to situate himself in between. He stands there for a moment looking you up and down before leaning over you. “Are you down?”

“Hell yes.”

He quickly kisses you on your lips before going to your neck, peppering more down your throat. Your fingers go to the front of his shirt, pushing the buttons through the loops. His hands go to your pants, slowly unbuttoning, then pushing them down. You peel off his shirt as you reach the last of the buttons, his hands trailing up your body, bringing your shirt upwards and over your head. He brings his hands down your body, down your chest, fingers gliding over your skin, leaving goosebumps in their absence. His fingers wrap around the waistband of your pants, pulling them off in one easy swoop. 

As your hands go towards Peter’s pants you catch him looking you up and down, his eyes practically memorizing your skin. “Gosh, you’re making me nervous…” You say.

Peter’s eyes immediately go to yours, “I don’t mean to, just…taking everything in” He goes towards your ear, dropping his voice to a whisper. “I’m making sure I don’t forget a single thing.” You chuckle as you push his pants down, Peter helping, making sure it comes off. Your fingers creeping towards Peter’s waistband are going to pull them down— ”You sure? Last chance to change your mind.”

“Whatever you’re hiding, Peter Parker, I wanna see.” You push his underwear down all the way, fighting the urge to look down. You fail, of course, face turning red, you bring your eyes back up to meet Peter’s. He kisses your smirk away, bringing a hand in between your legs, touching you in ways that make your eyes shut, his hand movements making you gasp and struggle under his touch. “Oh..my…”

Peter’s hands pick up the pace, causing that heat in the low of your stomach to grow. You feel yourself reaching your peak before Peter takes his hand away, causing you to groan in response. “...Not yet” Peter whispers, bringing his hand up to his mouth and licking away your excess from his fingers. 

His hands take your hips and pull them closer to him, one hand gripping onto your hip, the other guiding himself inside of you. You wince the deeper he goes, and you gasp, going to clutch his shoulder.

“Am I hurting you?” Peter whispers.

“Oh god no,” You bring one hand to his face and using the back of your hand softly graze his face. “I don’t think you could ever hurt me.”

Peter bends down, placing a kiss on your lips as he starts to move, slowly at first, gentle, perhaps a little too gentle for you.

“I’m not fragile, you know?” Your voice is low and soft. 

“I know.”

“You’re not gonna hurt me.”

“I know.”

“Then Peter,” You grip his chin, keeping his face straight on yours. “Pick up the fucking pace.” You both laugh as Peter does in fact take your suggestion into consideration, snapping his hips into you, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head.  

As Peter keeps up the pace, he grips your headboard, leaving a slight dent in the metal that you don’t notice until the next day. His head falls into the crook of your neck, nipping at the sweaty skin. 

Your hands graze his back, feeling the curves of his moving muscles, fingers falling into the dip of his shoulder blades. One hand going to the low of his back, slowly pushing downward, giving him permission to go deeper, opening more of yourself to him.

Peter looks down, his hair damp causing it to curl and stick to his forehead, his sweat making him almost glow. Your eyes catch one another, neither one of you daring to break contact. The arm resting on the headboard falls to rest next to your head, the other caressing the side of your leg. Peter slows the pace, but not the pressure. “Oh god, I-” Peter struggles to get out. “I-”

One of your hands snakes their way from nape to scalp, gently massaging his roots. “Tell me what you want.” You respond.

“I-uh-” His head dips forward to kiss you, on the chin first, then the side of your face, to behind your ear. “God-I-”

You gently tug his head backward so that your eyes are finally meeting together once again, his movement stills for a moment. “I want you to use your words, sweetheart.”

Peter laughs at this, “I think I’m the one that is supposed to say that.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” You move up and gently bite him on the ear, “Plus I can’t imagine you saying that.”

Peter growls just slightly, “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me” His mouth moves to your ear, “Like all the naughty things I want to say to you, want to do to you.”

The two of you look at one another again, holding intense eye contact before breaking out into laughter. “Well, so? Do I get the part?” Peter asks.

“Shut the fuck up…” 

The two of you embrace in a hot, messy, kiss, your arm hooking him closer, tongues entering each other's mouth.

“I want you,” Peter says between gaps of kissing, breathless, “Not just now, but every night, just like this.”

The two of you break away from one another, Peter looking down smiling such a genuine smile that you couldn’t help but blush from this intimacy, from his vulnerability. Thank god you didn’t call out of work that day.

“Ditto.” Was all you managed to say, you smiled back, causing him to chuckle and grin in response.

You turn on your stomach, Peter placing kisses down from the nape of your neck down to your tailbone. He gently lifts your hips, before guiding himself into you once again.

A sigh falls from your lips at the familiar feeling inside of you, Peter’s hips crashing into you, pressing you into the bed farther and farther, one hand going between your legs, pleasuring yourself.

Peter’s head leans down, resting on your shoulder, his moans and groans turning you on more than anything he was doing physically. One of your hands, resting on the bed, is soon covered by Peter’s, his hand interlocking with yours, squeezing, and squeezing and squeezing–

“Ow, Peter-”

Peter quickly stops everything, lifting his head from your shoulder. “Oh God, I, I-”

“Hey,” You turn your head, craning to see his worried face. “Accidents happen, and remember I’m not fragile.” You turn on your back once more, careful to not let him slip out of you. “Just keep your eyes on me, babe, keep your eyes on me.

You hold his face in both your hands, pulling him for another kiss on the lips, then another on one side of his face “Darling,” Than another on the other side, “Honey,”

“God, we gotta talk about this obsession with pet names,” Peter responds, the panic finally leaving his face.

You giggle back, “Only after you fuck me like you did earlier.”

You hold each other's attention as Peter does just that, eyes never leaving each other, noses so close that with every thrust his nose brushes against yours. You bring one hand in between your legs, making quick work to bring yourself back to the edge, so close you could trip into pleasure. “Ah, ah- oh god, Peter…”

Waves of pleasure spread throughout your body, the heat that built in the lower part of your stomach spreading to every inch. You throb against Peter inside you, with him continuing his pace, until he’s burying his head in the crook of your neck, groaning as he releases inside of you, pressing your bodies against one another. 

Letting some of his body weight on you, Peter lifts his head so he can look at you, glancing back, spent, but happy.

Seemingly untired from the whole ordeal, Peter climbs up your body kissing you again, deeply, passionately, as if he didn’t know you would escape and never come back. 

Tired, you kiss back, running your hands through his hair as you do so. As Peter finally looks into your eyes. “God we are so sweaty.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, “You’re so fucking…I don’t even…I don’t even know.”

Peter takes himself out of you, shifting so he lays next to you, leaning over to look at you. “You know what? I’m gonna have to wash that dirty mouth of yours.”

“Oh please,” You go to thwack Peter on the forehead with your pointer finger flicking from your thumb. “Weren’t you the one that had naughty things to say to me?”

He catches your wrist effortlessly, placing a kiss on the inside, “Doesn’t count, I was under a lustful haze.”

“Fuck you!” You say, laughing as his head turns to face you.

“You already did.”

You roll your eyes before sitting up and placing a kiss on Peter’s lips. “Don’t go anywhere I gotta pee.”

And you do so, as Peter remains on the bed, arms crossed behind his head, an image that makes you chuckle as you come back. “God, you-you look even better now.”

“You’re only saying that ‘cause I’m literally naked.” You climb back in bed, turning to lay on your side to face him. 

“Maybe,” He turns to his side as well, “But I would say that to you even if you wore twenty layers of the heaviest of snow clothes.”

“Yeah maybe to yourself”

“Ugh, just get over here!”

The two of you just laugh as Peter pulls you into his chest, turning you around so that your back is now flush against his chest.

“Ugh, Pete, I’m sticky and hot.”

“I really don’t care.”

You reach back to play once again with his hair, “But I’m sweaty, so, so sweaty.”

“God, you could say a million other things and it wouldn’t matter,” He lifts his head so his lips are close to your ear, “I want you.”

“And I want you.” You strain your neck to see him, “Only for your body, of course.”

“Of course”

The two of you laugh as the moonlight shines through the window, illuminating a conversion that no one else will hear, but would be the start of something amazing to the both of you.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Hey thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed, Part 4 (the final part) will be out Sunday. Hope to see you there 😜

masterlist

[int-writersmind]

masterlist

here's a little slap-dash masterlist, I'll fix it later.

Fluff:☁️ Smut: 🌶

Characters

Peter Parker

One shots

The Quid Pro Quo ☁️

In The Dead of Night 🌶

Songbird & Spider ☁️

Serieses

The Record Store Series

Potential Customer ☁️

Hanging on the Telephone ☁️

Fragile 🌶

Steady? ☁️

I Hate Christmas, Peter Parker!

{Part 1}

{Part 2}

{Part 3}

{Part 4} 🌶

[int-writersmind]

Hanging On The Telephone

Pairing: Peter Parker x Gn!Reader

Sequel to Potential Customer (but could be read as a stand-alone)

Summary: After lending Peter your favorite vinyl, you wonder when you'll see him again...to get your record back of course! No other reason...

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2.8k

Author's Note: I imagine the album that Reader gives to Peter as Parallel Lines by Blondie but it's neutral enough to be whatever you want it be. The opening track is Hanging on the Telephone so use that info to your discretion.

Also I'm buzzed on two glasses of rosé editing this so bare with me lol.

~

It had been a week since that day at So-So Records, a few days since you met Peter Parker, a few days since you lent him that album. You try to not be glued to your phone, anxiously waiting for a response like a desperate thirteen-year-old, but still you wonder when he’ll reply. 

It was early one morning when the text finally came. You, in your apartment’s kitchen, sipping on your favorite hot beverage startling when your phone chimes.

I think I’ve found my new favorite album, read the text, This is Peter by the way. Peter Parker?

You respond: I had a feeling, You know, I don’t lend my albums out to just anyone.

Then I must be special.

You smile to yourself, covering your face when you realize what you are doing.

“Are you smiling at your phone?” Your roommate says, coming out from her bedroom. “Funny video, or that guy from the store?”

“Uh, the latter, he finally got back to me.”

“Ooh, so what’s next?” Your roommate goes to pour a glass of juice from the refrigerator, you turn in your chair to face her.

“I guess I'll get my record back.”

“Boo! That’s so boring! Make it interesting, call him and set up a meeting or something.”

You roll your eyes, “Calling? What am I? Fifty?”

“I think there’s something classic about calling, much more personal than texting.” Your roommate plucks your phone from your hand. You reach for it but your roommate pushes you back with great ease. “It’s easy, I’ll do it for you.”

“No! Don’t you dare!”

Ring ring!

“Hello?” You hear Peter’s voice faintly from your phone’s speaker. Your eyes go wide in fear, your roommate tosses your phone back to you, and you almost drop it like it was a game of hot potato and the spud was literally burning your skin. You suck in a deep breath before–

“Hey-Hi Peter…ugh so sorry I must have ah–misclick–”

You hang up instantly, much to the shock of your roommate. “What-Why the hell did you do that?!?”

“I don't know! I got nervous!” You start to pace back and forth. “Shit, I-I got to call him back.”

“Yeah, duh.” You throw a pillow from the couch at her on your way back to your room.

With the click of the door, you let yourself lean and slowly slid down onto the floor. Phone in hand you stare at the call screen, fingers hesitating on Peter’s number. You take a deep breath before finally pressing Call.

“Hello…”

“Hey, everything ok?” Even through the phone, Peter’s kindness shines through, like you can almost hear his smile through the phone. You kinda feel like a dick for panicking and hanging up on him earlier.

“Yeah, yeah, I was just…being stupid.” You shake your head and cover your eyes with one of your eyes.

“No, don’t say that.”

“It’s fine,” You go to change the subject, “So, the album, any standouts.”

“Well, I would definitely say that opening track has to be my favorite. Every time it ended I just wanted to restart it. A definite addition to my playlist.”

“Hmmm, that’s something I would like to listen to.”

“I’ll show you sometime,” You try and fail to suppress a smile, “Though it’s pretty much one giant mashup of styles and genres.”

“The playlist of a madman.” You joke.

As you listen in, you can hear wind passing by on Peter’s end. “More like the playlist of someone horribly unorganized.”

“Ha, wish I could relate, but I’m much too anal to let that happen.” You move your hand away from your face, letting your head fall against the door. “I know this is gonna sound crazy but what are you doing…I mean because, I like, hear the wind passing by and...”

“Uh, er, I’m running…yeah a nice little run.”

“Oh let me leave you to your run.” You say, “We can always talk again later.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Police sirens go on by on the other end, “Ah, I think I should hang up now, don't want to run into something crazy.”

“I get it, text me some time?”

“Will do.”

“Oh and Peter,” You say. “We should set up and time and place so you can give me back my record.”

“Just when I get use to playing it all the time,” Peter responds sarcastically, “I’m kidding, I’ll let you know when I can.”

~

At work, you couldn't help but sneak glances at your phone, one part hoping another text would come through, another part hoping that it wouldn’t.

On your lunch break you had an extra few minutes left before clocking back in, you decide to visit your store’s listening room. Well it was more like the back of the store where there was a wall cut-out, curtain, and small table with a record player and a two pairs of headphones. You pick up a small selection of 7 inch singles, trying to figure out what kind of mood you were in. you pull the curtain close to give a smidgen of privacy, picking up one of the headphones your co-worker swore he cleaned.

Halfway through one 7 inch, when you decided that you were in a different mood, you feel the curtain move, you look up to see–

“Hope you don’t mind,” Peter, in the flesh, fully cements himself inside the admittedly tight space. “Your co-worker said I would find you here.”

“And found me you have,” You switch the 7 inch to something else, a song that Peter might know. “Have some time to spare?”

“For you, of course.”

You look away, trying to hide your blush under the guise that you were reaching for the other pair of headphones. Peter graciously accepts, placing them atop of his head, as you set the record player to start.

As the track starts, you sideways glance at Peter and he does the same to you. You laugh it off as the opening notes begin to go through your ears.

It takes Peter a beat before he notices what song is playing–the opening song from the album you lent him. You sheepishly smile at his recognition before slowly moving to the music, a basic shimmy, then a head bob, then as the song reaches the first chorus, mouthing the words. Peter just smiles at you, and gives a modest head bob to the song the whole way through. 

As the song fades out, ending you and Peter’s private little listening party, you both take off your headphones and just stare at one another for a moment. “You know…I would love to keep playing music but…”

“Oh yeah… I was just in the area and I just–decided to pop in.”

“Without my record?” You say sarcastically.

Peter shuts his eyes in embarrassment. “Oh yeah…it’s just..um…god I honestly just forgot it–”

You place a hand on Peter’s arm to stop him from going on, before quickly removing it. “Don’t worry about it…” You pull the curtain just slightly back, glancing at your co-worker who was glancing at his watch repeatedly. “You can always just…return it to me at…my place...Oh my god, that was so forward–”

“No! I mean yes? Uh…yeah I can definitely return your record to your place.” Peter stumbles out, “I mean I already know where you live.” Peter’s eyes go wide in shock, his face turning red.

You just chuckle to defuse the situation, at least you weren't the only one who felt so awkward in this situation. Your skin felt warm, your heart was beating so fast it felt like it would drill straight through your ribs. 

Is this what it felt like to have a crush? Oh my god, did you actually just say crush? But, you didn’t know what else to call this feeling you had towards Peter. Hell, you barely knew the dude, only sharing a few things with one another, but at the end of each encounter, you were just itching for more. It was kind of embarrassing but honestly, who cares.

“How about you come over to my place around 8:30-ish? My roommate’s working the nightshift.”

“I can make that work.”

“Cool” You say. “Plus, I promise to tell you exciting little factoids about the album and others if you let me.”

“Oh please do so,” Peter leans in close, quite close actually, “It would make little nerd me so excited.”

For just a split second you think about leaning in, closing the gap between the two of you with your lips– Now that was too far, crazy talk. 

You settle for a quick glance at his lips before looking at his eyes, clearing your throat before turning to leave the listening area. 

You lead Peter to the front of the store, hands wringing in front of you, as you turn and face Peter.

“I’ll text you my apartment number, 8:30?”

“8:30-ish” Peter responds with a finger snap. You do the same with a nod of your head, as you watch Peter leave.

~

Why did you agree to meet at your place?

You think about what you proposed at the record store, standing alone in the middle of the living room in your apartment. You didn’t know whether or not to dress up so you settled for what you wore at work today with a long cardigan to cozy it up.

You pace back and forth, chewing on your fingernails on one hand, admittedly, overstressing about tonight. Was this like a casual drinks thing? A nice meal paired with casual drinks? Or was it really just a simple handoff and ‘Thanks for lending me the record, I never want to see you again, buh-bye!”

You stop short, pushing all those thoughts and then-some out. You decide to go simple and order a New York delicacy–pizza. If this was something then it would be fun, casual. If it was a simple handoff then, well, more pizza for you. A win-win honestly. But as you place the order, deep down you knew, you just knew that this wasn’t gonna be a simple handout.

~

Knock-Knock

Man that pizza delivery guy definitely deserves a great tip for speed, efficiency–

“I assume this is for you?” As you open the door there’s Peter, pizza in one hand, record in the other. “Or I just paid and stole someone' else's dinner.”

“Our pizza if you’ll indulge me?” You take the pizza from Peter, and with your other hand you gesture for him to come inside. “Oh, how much do I own you? Since the pizza was my idea and all.”

“Don’t worry about it,” As you close the door behind you, Peter does a quick 360 of your cozy shared space. “This is–”

“Small?”

“Nice. I was gonna say nice,” You walk the pizza over to the wall that served as the kitchen, getting your finest paper plates. “It would be more strange if you lived in some Friends level apartment.”

You notice Peter walking to another section of your living room, where your music set-up was, a fine turntable and modestly priced speakers. Which all sat upon a piece from IKEA that held you and your roommates record collection.

“You ok with soda?” You call out.

“If that’s what you're drinking,” Peter glances at you, “Then that’s what I’ll be drinking.”

You nod as you prepare a pair of pizza on separate plates and pour your favorite soda into slightly dusty glasses.

As you make your way to the main area of the living room, you set everything on the coffee table before standing next to Peter. “And to think I thought you weren’t a serious record collector.”

Your lips form a straight line, nodding your head, “If I let the wrong people know I secretly love collecting vinyls, they’ll never leave me alone.” You joke.

“Your secret is safe with me.”

Peter hands you the borrowed record, which you take from him. You squat down, looking for the right place to put it, Peter follows you downward.

“While we're here…maybe I can show you something else?”

“Hmm, some music that will change my life?”

You roll your eyes, “No, just my personal faves.”

Your fingers skim over a few titles, before you select one, some indie, folky singer you actually saw in person. “But only if you wow me with some factoids, as promised.”

“Of course, I never break a promise”

~

A third record plays as Peter and you are lost in conversation, the scraps of pizza lying on the coffee table. The two of you are close to one another on the couch. You with your head resting on one hand, elbow resting on the back of the couch, Peter holding his glass in front of him.

“...And once I had the record in hand it made the long lines and freezing temperatures worth it.” You turn and hide your face in your hand. “God, I just realized how crazy that sounded.”

“No,no, that was a great story,” Peter lightly places a hand on your leg. “I can tell you're very passionate about this and I bet,” Peter scoots in close, “You really love working at So-So.”

You glance away before facing Peter’s smirking face again. That smirk that makes your stomach tie up in knots. “I mean why else would I work long hours for shit pay. But meeting certain customers also makes it worthwhile.”

“Like clueless customers who come in for some obscure album from the 70s that he doesn’t even bother to buy?”

“Yeah, even customers like that,” You remove your other hand from your head to rest on Peter’s, trying to ignore the burning sensation inside of you telling you to stop. “I know this is stupid but…I’m glad you walked into So-So.”

“Can I say something stupider?” Peter makes a face that makes you laugh. “What I meant to say,” Peter takes your hand, “I’m also glad I walked into So-So.”

The two of you just stare at one another, and it’s like you can almost feel a magnetic pull towards him. Like when the two of you were leaning on that wall at So-So, or when he walked you home and his fingers brushed your thigh, or in the listening room when you just wanted to seal the deal. You had so many thoughts racing through your mind it was hard to focus on the moment. 

Peter leans in closer, bringing you right back into the now, You close your eyes as his lips ghost over yours, his breath falling over your lips–the record stops, end of the side.

“Leave it.” Peter whispers before pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss was messy, a little hungry, as if each other's lips were the only way to satiate each other’s appetite. Peter places his cup on the coffee table as he brings one of his hands to cup your face.

His lips, god his lips, were coated in the artificially sweet taste of the soda, making him even more irresistible. You couldn’t help but let your hands wander up his chest, your fingers playing with the top button of his shirt, the closest to his neck, wandering fingers pushing themselves inside, feeling warm skin.

Great minds think alike as one of Peter’s hands goes to your waist, his long, slender fingers, going up your shirt, pressing lightly on the skin. You can’t help but sigh at his touch, as his hand slowly travels upward. You swing one leg over both of his, so that you’re basically straddling him, letting your hands go to his neck, as both of his hands fall to your waist.

Ending the moment too soon, Peter pulls away from you, letting his forehead rest against yours, but casting his gaze downwards as to not look at you. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Now why would you say that?” With one of your hands, you use your thumb and pointer finger to gently push Peter’s face upwards by his chin, causing him to look you right in your eyes. “I wanted you to kiss me. Hell, I've wanted to kiss you since you walked me home.” 

“It’s…it’s not that I regret kissing you, I’ll never regret that…it’s just…” Peter sighs, “I don’t know what this, the two of us, can be after tonight. I don’t know if I’m in a position right now for something…something more serious.”

You chuckle a little, “Bold of you to assume I wanted to ask you to be my boyfriend right now.” You say with a smile, you let your finger flick down his bottom lip. “I can do causal, Peter Parker.” You lean in close, your thumb blocking your lips from his, your voice lowering, “Can you?”

Peter sighs into your mouth, a smirk forming on his lips, “I can, but can I ask you one thing?” You nod your head, “Can I borrow some more of your records? I think your taste is starting to rub off on me.”

“Only if you promise to return them to me.”

“If this is what a return looks like…then count me in.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Read Part 3-> Fragile (warning includes smut!)

Thanks for reading! Ah, I can't believe I finally did the sequel to Potential Customer, I already have the last two parts written (since I wrote them in tandem with the og) so expect those soon, but this one was strangely difficult to write. Anyway...anyone want some smut w/ this pairing? That's coming soon, since my fever dream venom peter smut post got so many notes so quickly, lol. Anyway bye void!

masterlist

[int-writersmind]

hanging on the telephone ~ teaser

“Hope you don’t mind,” Peter, in the flesh, fully cements himself inside the admittedly tight space. “Your co-worker said I would find you here.”

“And found me you have,” You switch the 7 inch to something else, a song that Peter might know. “Have some time to spare?”

“For you, of course.”

~

i originally mean't to post the sequel to Potential Customer today, but due to some slight writer's block and a little bit of depression, I haven't finished it yet and don't want to rush it. Expect an update Friday, maybe an extra smutty post on Sat or Sun??? stay tune, good-bye void!

[int-writersmind]

I've just finished Marvel's Spider-Man 2...but I crave more! Great story tho...

[int-writersmind]

The Quid Pro Quo

Paring: College! Peter Parker x Reader (reader's an English major)

Summary: On a rainy night, sparks fly when the two of you exchange notes on each others classwork.

Word Count: 2.1k

Genre: Fluff

authors note: hey, I might be a recent college graduate, doesn't mean everything is accurate ok? 🤭

Light rain taps against the window of Empire State University's library windows. You find yourself alone on the second floor at a table, wanting to tear your hair out over your Physics homework.

It was Friday night, the library was practically empty since most students were out partying or at the very least not thinking about their classwork. You, on the other hand, had made a deal with a fellow student to help one another on each’s work, a classic quid pro quo. You, an English major, were gonna exchange helpful notes on your classmate's Frankenstein paper that was due Monday, and he, in return, would help you prepare for your Physics test the following Tuesday. It was a great idea, brilliant even, if only Peter Parker weren’t running late. 

You check your phone one more time before standing up and stretching your legs. You walk over to the big gothic looking window your table was next to, glancing at the rain smacking into the glass.

God, there were so many things you could have been doing right now instead of standing here like a young wife waiting for her husband to return from the sea. Like curling up with a nice book, with a hot cup of your favorite beverage, getting lost in whatever world and-

“Sorry I’m late!” came a familiar voice.

You turn and see that Peter Parker had decided to finally make an appearance after all. With your arms crossed, you watch as he quickly runs up the steps, tripping and almost falling while doing so. “I was starting to think you died or something.” You say quite sarcastically.

“Oh much worse,” Peter says, “Subway delays.” As you return to your seat, Peter sits on the other side, quickly taking out his own laptop and notebook. “What should we start on?”

“I don’t know if I can stand anymore Physics right now,” You glance at your phone,  A Daily Bugle notification on top: Spider-Man v Lizard! Havoc on the A-Line!. You swipe it away, maybe it was better to go straight to the dorms after this. “Let’s just start on this Frankenstein paper since it’s much more open-ended.”

“Boo, I hate open ended,” Peter turns on his laptop, “At least with science everything can be quantified.”

“What about theories huh?”

“Theories can be backed up or disproven! English, it’s-it’s sooo subjective.” Peter sighs, “What do you mean the blue curtains represent depression! I have blue curtains, but not because I’m depressed but because they were on sale!”

“Ha-ha, like I haven’t heard that before” You shake your head and roll your eyes, “So, let’s see what you have. Wait, maybe it’s better if I-” You get up from your seat and walk over to sit on the chair next to Peter. “That’s better, now we can look at the screen together.”

Peter places one arm on the back of your chair, no thought really behind it. You pause for a moment before fake coughing, re-focusing on the screen in front of you.

 Peter was one year older and the two of you met at an English course, Literature by Women, a gen-ed for him but a required class for you. You got to know each other the first week of the semester when your Professor assigned partner work to go through a set of poems. Ever since then the two of you would occasionally text each other with simple questions about class. That’s when you found out Peter was in a higher track for Physics and became an absolute annoyance when it came to questions. But Peter always lent a hand and never with any bitterness. 

“You ok?” Peter asks.

You look at Peter whose face reads concern, “Yeah, just a little tired that’s all. Long day.” You turn back to the screen glancing at the title and opening lines of Peter’s paper.

“Ugh same,” groans Peter, “I got so caught up with something, I forgot to eat lunch”

“Oh, I think I have something.” You stop a few lines into the first paragraph, reaching over the table to grab your bag on top, you dig inside until you find half of a sandwich that you bought earlier. “Here, I didn’t know this sandwich had tomatoes and I just find them disgusting.” You make a face of disgust that causes a small laugh to come from Peter.

“You know you can always just take the tomatoes off right?”

“What about the tomato juices?” You say, “The remnant of the tomato never goes away!” You make a huge swapping gesture, “Do you want the damn sandwich or not?”

He puts his hands up in fake surrender, “Ok, ok.”

Peter takes his arm off the back of your chair scooting closer to the table before digging into the sandwich. You settle into reading Peter’s paper about the ethics of Dr. Frankenstein. 

~

“Ok…ok, what you have so far it’s…”

“Horrible..terrible–” Peter sighs.

You turn and gently smack Peter on the arm, “Oh shut up,” You say, “It’s a good foundation, clear thesis, your paragraphs for the most part support it–”

“But…”

“But,” You widen your eyes and make a face. “You focus too much on the actual science of everything going on, focus more on the emotional. Victor uses the Creature for his own selfish desire not only for scientific exploration.”

“You got all of that from my paper?”

“More or less,” You turn your attention back to the computer screen, scrolling over the paper again. “See, anyone can write a thorough paper if they put their mind to it.”

“And…anyone can pass Physics if they put their mind to it as well. Let’s switch topics.”

“Oh, god no,” You say. “The greatest weakness of English majors…Science!”

You lean back as if you were fake fainting, a little too far back as you almost tip over in your seat, but Peter catches your arm just in time. “Woah there Faint-y, can lose you yet.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem,” Peter closes his laptop, and grabs his notebook, you hand him your Professor given study guide. Peter glances at the document, nodding and shaking his head at certain terms. “Ok little English major, time to blow your mind with some science!”

“Certainly, but not in the way you're imagining.”

Peter just rolls his eyes and points to one of the first lines in the study guide that you're underlining and adding several question marks to. “Let’s start here.”

Your little tipping incident sent your chair slightly further away from Peter’s than earlier. With the underside of his hand, he pulls your chair, and you, closer to him. This causes you to hitch your breath. “Pete you gotta stop doing that.” You joke.

Peter doesn’t look up from the paper. “Stop doing what?”

You huff and glance away before looking back at him. “God are you purposely annoying or just clueless?”

Peter finally looks at you, a slight smile on his face, “I just need you close to me…to-to, uh, to explain this concept. Obviously.”

“Yeah,” You blow a raspberry. “Obviously.”

~

You groan, letting your head fall into your hands on top of the table, “I’m resigned to the fact that I might have to drop out of Physics.”

“No, don't! Physics is super fun!” Peter says with a little bit too much enthusiasm.

You peek one eye through your fingers, “Pete, I don’t think we’re working on the same frequency.” 

“Ok, well I have a totally funny Physics joke for you,” Peter readies himself, “What did the male magnet say to the female magnet? Seeing you from the back, I thought you were repulsive. But seeing you from the front, I find you rather attractive.”

You pick your head up and lightly punch Peter in the arm, “You’re lucky you’re cute, because I’m already–Ah, spider!”

A modest size brown spider crawls out of reach from your hand on the table. You reflexively go to swat at it but Peter catches your hand before you could do so. You glance at Peter’s hand on yours rather than at him. He quickly lets go of your hand before he goes and picks up the spider ever so gently.

You follow him as he walks over to the window, the rain slowing down. He cracks open the window, urging the bug outside. You lean against the other side of the window, arms crossed over your chest, you can’t help it when a dry laugh escapes your mouth, “Sorry, but are you secretly some kind of spider-whisper.”

“Hmm,” Peter closes the window, “Maybe. Just looking out for the little guy I suppose.”

You can’t help but smile, truly genuine this time. You reach out and take one of Peter’s hands. “Come on, I think we’ve earned a break.”

You pull Peter by the hand, taking a second to close his laptop, and throwing your jacket over everything on the table. You turn around, switching what hand is holding on to Peter’s. You continue down one path weaving up and down other bookshelves, passing empty tables, you make a sudden turn down an aisle letting go of Peter’s hand. You trail your fingers over the spines of the books, as Peter follows behind you, hands in his pocket. When you make it to the end of the aisle, you stand in front of a window, the rainstorm continuing on. “I actually find rainstorms to be rather romantic.” You say.

“The Shelly kind or the Valentine kind?” Peter says, leaning against the bookshelf.

“Both.” You peek back, a smirk playing on your lips. You walk over to Peter, standing with just enough space for someone to squeeze through.

“Not so romantic when you’re caught up in it.” Peter glances at the window, then at you. “I’ve been caught…too many times.”

“So have I,” You step a little closer, testing the waters, Peter doesn’t react. “But you have to admit there’s something, I don’t know, intimate, about being sheltered in place, with just one other person. Like under an umbrella, or the awning of some corner store bodega–”

“Or in-between bookshelves at your college’s library?” Peter’s hand comes up to gently grasp your hand, your fingers slowly interlocking with one another. He pulls you in close, in between his legs. You place your other hand on his chest to prevent yourself from falling. “I might not be an English major but I think I can read between the lines.”

“And if I wasn’t so tired, I would totally come up with a Physics joke.” You response, your face flush red. 

He brings his other hand to your face, his palm resting on your cheek, his fingers slowly disappearing into the nape of your hair. “Can I kiss you now?”

“Hmm, maybe…let me ask you one question?” You say.

“Shoot.”

“Can I kiss you first?”

Peter smiles, then nods. You bring the hand that was on his chest upwards, sliding up his neck, until your own hand is entangled in his hair. You close your eyes and lean forward, pressing your lips ever so gently to his. He pauses for a moment before kissing you back, slowly, taking his time. His lips felt soft against your own, warm and comforting, even if you could still taste the tomatoes from earlier. You can’t help but giggle at the thought.

“What is it?” Peter says between kisses.

You move away just a little, you quickly peck him on the lips, once, twice–”It doesn’t really matter.”

Peter deepens the kiss, bringing both hands to hold your face, his thumbs gently caressing the skin beneath them. You loop both your arms around his neck, letting your body fall into his, your chest pressing against his. His tongue enters your mouth and it falls in rhythm with yours, dancing an unseen dance. 

The two of you stop for a moment, foreheads resting on one another. “You know I’m still dropping Physics right?” You say through closed eyes and heavy breathing.

“Then I’ll keep kissing you until you change your mind.” Peter answers.

He holds you in his arms as he stands up fully, keeping his grip on you tight as he kisses you again. One of his hands drifts to your bottom, an open hand just resting on top of your clothing.

“Oh Parker,” You whisper. “Not as innocent as you look.”

“You have no idea…” 

He buries his head into your neck, placing kisses up and down that make your eyes roll back. “We should…we should definitely continue this study session back at my dorm…since you know… the library closes soon.”

“Yeah, yeah of course.” Peter says as he now moves on to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. 

You break away from him, pushing him back ever so lightly, taking his hand in yours. You lead him down the aisle, half-walking, half running. 

“Come on, I still have a Physics test to pass”

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Hey there, thanks for reading! Hope you liked it. If you like this consider checking out my other fluff-y story Potential Customer . Goodbye Void!

masterlist

[int-writersmind]

In The Dead of Night

Symbiote!Peter Parker x Female reader

Word Count: 666 (no I'm not joking)

Warnings: Smut; some weird tentacle play idk

Author Note: I don't know what possessed me to write this but I did it. Bare with me I wrote and edited this in like one night, so it might be shitty and I might delete it idk, enjoy.

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You were in a deep sleep with nothing but a tank top and underwear on, the window cracked open, letting in a cool breeze. Your skin prickles but not because of the cold air, but because something slimy and slightly wet is climbing up multiple parts of your body.

Across your torso, slowly creeping under your tank top, a black tentacle wraps around one of your breasts.

Another tentacle goes up through your waistband, slithering down your leg, wrapping around your thigh and calf.

The last tentacle wraps around your neck, the end creeping up your face, waking you up.

Your eyes shoot open, with mostly shock, but surprisingly not fear, the tentacle around your neck squeezes tighter. “Peter…” you whisper. 

Your boyfriend, Peter Parker to some, Spider-Man to all of New York, groans and moans in sleep. A few weeks ago Peter came into contact with some mysterious rock that fell from space, gifting this-this…what did Peter call it? A symbiote. It had enhanced all of his typical Spidey powers and graced him with a few additional, including these…tentacles.

You reach your hand out and push him a little harder, “Peter! Fucking wake up.”

Peter shakes himself awake, catching himself from falling off the bed when he notices the black tentacles coming from his body and wrapping itself over multiple parts of your body.

“Oh my-oh my god I-I’m-” Peter shakes.

“No…no,” You place a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “God it’s, it’s kind of strange but I kinda-I kind of like the feeling.”

As almost reacting to what you just said, more tentacles shoot out from Peter encompassing your body. Wrapping over both legs, and arms, tugging at your shirt and underwear.

“I-I don’t know what to do?” Peter asks

“Maybe,” You responded. “But subconsciously your mind knows exactly what to do.”

You pull him in close, enrapturing him with a deep kiss as the tentacles expand covering more of your body, two of them crawling up your leg, entering you.

Slowly they pump inside of you, filling you up to the point where you pulse against them. A high pitch moan slips from your mouth, your eyes falling close, head falling back into the pillow as you writhe against the mattress. “Oh-my god, it feels…so…”

Another tentacle wraps around your breast, flicking at your nipple, Peter grasps the other in his hand massaging with his palm and fingers. Peter goes from kissing your lips to kissing your neck, as the tentacle around your neck enters your mouth. The sensation is like a gloved latex finger, your tongue wrapping around it, your mouth humming against the sensation.

The tentacles inside you pump faster, a heat building in your abdomen. Peter brings his other hand down to touch in between your legs, switching between circular motions to side to side. The pleasant sensations from everything touching your body causes the heat in your abdomen to grow. 

You toss and you turn, sweat starting to form on every open piece of available skin. You run your hands up and down Peter’s body, gripping and squeezing whenever the sensations are hitting the spot. “God, I’m…I’m…”

As you come, your body stiffens as you squeeze and tighten against the tentacles, your thighs subconsciously close around Peter’s hand. As your high dies down, the tentacles retract from your body, your head falls against the pillow. Peter removes his hands from your breast and from in between your legs. He places gentle kisses on your face and lips as you fade back into reality.

“I don’t know what-where that came from but…” Peter says.

“But we have to do that again.” You whisper out. You reach your fingers out and play with Peter’s nose and lips.

“Now that would be responsible.”

You laugh, “C’mon you know you like it, I bet it even turned you on.”

Peter groans and attacks your neck with kisses, “I guess we just have to keep testing the extent of this symbiote”

“How irresponsible…” You say.

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woah, did not expect to follow up that fluff-y fic with this one. Do you hate me, do you care? Let's see how long I'll keep this up before my anxiety tells me to delete this from the internet. Goodbye Void!

[int-writersmind]

New Fic's

I'm cooking up 2 fics at the moment, guess what it's gotta our favorite webhead: Petey Parker. A standalone and sequel to Potential Customer (b/c I'm crazy).

P.S-> Anyone down for some smut??? Like I'm hella nervous to post, cause like spoiler: I wrote some smut while I was writing Potential Customer b/c I was bored...and needed something spicy to get me to write the fluff.

Anyway bye void!!! 👋🏻

[int-writersmind]

I can't believe I'm spending more time writing fanfics than my actually wips... at least I'm writing!