#andrew peter parker
Pretty Tutor - Peter Parker (Andrew) X Female Reader
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Title: Pretty Tutor
Peter Parker (Andrew) X Female Reader
Additional Characters: May and Gwen (Mentioned)
WC: 4,211
Warnings: Angst to fluff, shy Reader, awkwardness, anxiety, fighting (verbal, nothing bad), crying, Gwen's death mentioned, awkward tension, Peter needs a hug, and fluff
Letting out a breath, you tried to shudder the anxiety away as you entered the library of your college campus. Spotting the person you had been looking for, you nervously wandered over. Stopping at his table where he was studying, you gazed over his appearance, taking in the blue shirt, dark green jacket, and dark blue jeans; everything about him screamed nerd.
His name was Peter Parker, and you had a massive crush on him since high school. You didn't think he would remember you, but it took almost four months for you to get the courage to even speak to him. You needed help with Biology, you were failing and you needed his help. You knew Peter was smart, he was practically a genius. 
Clearing your throat softly, Peter looked up, making your breath hitch slightly as you gave him a small shy smile. "Uh, hi, uh may I sit?" You asked, gesturing to the chair in front of you and across from him. 
Peter looked at you for a quick moment before giving you a polite smile and nodding. "Yeah, sure. Go ahead." He spoke quietly, before getting back to his work.
You slid the chair out, sitting down before him as you sat your bag on the table. You glanced at him briefly, pulling out a notebook from your bag to make it seem like you were going to work on something and weren't just there to sit there and watch him like a creep. You grabbed a red pen, opened your notebook, and wrote down gibberish and random drawings before you glanced up at him again, taking in the way his soft brown hair fell into his eyes. You swallowed thickly, averting your gaze as a flush covered your cheeks. Your heart pounded painfully in your chest. He was so handsome, even when concentrating on his studies. "Um, so, I, uh... I don't think you remember me... But I used to go to high school with you." You began, gaining the young man's attention as he looked at you curiously. "We had Mrs. Webbers and Mr. French's class together."
Peter pursed his lips in thought, tilting his head slightly, "Webber... Webber..." He muttered, thinking, "Webber... Oh. Y/N?" He asked and you nodded rapidly.
"Uh, yeah. That's me. I, uh, was wondering if you could help tutor me in Biology. I, heh, I'm failing and I don't want to drop the class. And you're smart so I was wondering if you could help me?" You asked, only to get no response, worrying you. "Uh, I can pay you for your time. I just need a little bit of help with some of the coursework and homework. I promise I'll pay you for your time and stuff like that." You ranted, glancing up at him with flushed cheeks as you regretfully continued, "I mean... You don't have to if you don't want to-"
"I'll do it." Peter interrupted you, making your eyes widen slightly.
"What?" You asked softly, "Really?"
Peter nodded, shutting his textbook. "Yeah, I'll tutor you. It's not like it's a big deal."
Your eyes lit up, "Oh, thank you!" You exclaimed, getting a harsh shush from the librarian as you ducked your head down in embarrassment before you continued, "Thank you, Peter. Uh, when are you free?"
Peter smiled softly, "I'm free after school on Fridays. Is that good for you?" He asked and you quickly nodded.
"Yeah, Friday's work for me. Where would you like to meet up?" You asked as you began to write down your number on a page from your notebook. 
"Is my apartment alright? We can go to yours if not." He spoke and you nodded again.
"Yeah, your apartment works." You answered, ripping the page from the notebook and sliding it across the table. "Here's my number. Thank you again, Peter." You spoke, before grabbing your bag and rushing out of the library.
Peter grabbed the paper, smiling slightly at the small drawings and random song lyrics you had drawn and written on the page along with your number. He folded the paper and quickly pocketed it, before going back to his work. Peter remembered you from high school, remembering you to be pretty kind. He remembered that you were in a couple of clubs, even his photography club. He could even clearly remember your backpack, Y/F/C with black stripes. Peter felt pretty awkward, not knowing much about you apart from your name. Peter actually hoped that this tutoring would go by swiftly, honestly, he did not mind helping you with Biology but he felt awkward. 
You climbed up the stairs of Peter's apartment building, your backpack weighing heavily on your back and shoulders as you climbed up and up. It was Friday, a little bit after school, only an hour, and the first day of tutoring. You were beyond nervous. Thinking about how you were going to be in a room with Peter and Peter alone, made you anxious. The butterflies in your stomach wouldn’t calm themselves, and it seemed they never would stop fluttering. You kicked yourself mentally, trying to calm yourself down and tell yourself how dumb it was crushing on a guy who'd never like you back. 
You adjusted your bag and let out a breath before you knocked on the apartment door, standing there awkwardly as you heard footsteps on the other side. Opening the door, an older woman stood there, a small sweet yet confused smile on her face. 
"May I help you, dear?" She asked as you nodded, returning the smile.
"Yes, uh, Peter's tutoring me today." You answered and the woman's eyes widened in realization before she nodded and opened the door wider, letting you in.
"Of course, I remember now, Peter told me. Come on in, dear." She spoke, shutting the door behind you, "I’m Peter’s Aunt, you can call me May." She spoke, offering you her hand to shake.
"I'm Y/N, it's nice to meet you, May." You shook her hand softly, as May's smile widened.
"Well, Peter's in his room. That boy's got to remember his manners and guests sometimes." She chuckled lightly. You said nothing as she led you to Peter's room, knocking on the door. The door opened and Peter's eyes widened when he met yours. "Peter, you forgot about your tutoring session already?" May lightly scolded, making Peter cast his gaze down sheepishly as he shrugged one shoulder.
"Sorry, May." He spoke softly as she just sighed, turning to you.
"Let me know if you need anything, dear." She spoke before she left down the hall leaving you to stand at Peter's bedroom door.
Peter cleared his throat before opening his door wider, allowing you to enter. "Sorry about the mess." He spoke up, "I, uh, forgot you were coming over." He explained, watching him as he scooted a few piles of books out of the way. 
You looked around the room in awe, looking at the various posters on the wall and the polaroids on his corkboard, "It's fine. Honestly." You spoke up, "I understand."
Peter pushed more stuff off of his bed, before stuffing his hands into his sweater pockets. "Well, uh, do you want to sit at my desk or the bed?"
You glanced at each spot, biting your lip briefly, "I- I'm fine with either."
Peter nodded and sat down on his bed, and you turned to sit at his desk, setting your bag on the floor at your feet. It was silent for a moment before Peter spoke up. "So, let's do this then. What are you having trouble with?" He asked and you unzipped your bag, taking out your Biology notebook and textbook.
"Well, I am having trouble with Charles Darwin's theory of evolution." You admitted, flipping through the pages of your book until you reached the chapter you wanted.
Peter nodded slowly, leaning forward to grab the textbook you had brought out of your bag. For the next hour or so, Peter helped explain everything you had a problem with, answering your questions perfectly before even giving you a few notes of his own from the course. Tension was still high in the air, but it was a little bit easier to breathe, both of you seeming to get comfortable around one another after a while. 
You slowly found yourself staring at Peter, noticing how his eyelashes flickered against his cheekbones every once in a while. Your fingers twitched ever so slightly, as though wanting to reach out and touch him, but you refrained. His eyes flickered as he looked at his textbook before he raised his head to look at you. He tilted his head, noticing your staring as you blinked your eyes and quickly looked away.
Peter pursed his lips, looking at you for a moment before looking back down at his textbook. He hadn't been dreaming, you had been staring at him, and he did catch you. Why were you staring at him? He thought to himself, furrowing his brows as he tried to figure out why you were staring at him. Did he have something on his face?
For the next month or two, you went over to Peter's apartment, learning more and more about Biology that you were almost not failing at anymore. You had grown closer to the young man, enough that you would sometimes joke around with him and have conversations outside of evolution. You felt at ease with Peter, but you could see that Peter was still acting weird around you. He'd joke around with you and laugh with you one minute but then he'd get all distant and tense a minute later. Sadly, he never got out of that... Tension until after you’d leave. You were confused. Was he alright? Have you done something wrong? Said something wrong? You'd try to bring it up sometimes but Peter would always change the subject.
You would get some clarity the next tutoring session, sitting side-by-side on Peter's bed, textbooks in your laps. The room was quiet except for Peter lecturing you about something, but you hadn't been fully paying attention. Your eyes were on him, watching as he moved his mouth and the words came out. He looked cute, really cute. You could've watched him talk forever. But you snapped out of it when he called your name.
"Y/N. Have you been listening at all?" He asked with a deep sigh and you sat up abruptly, feeling your face flush as you bit your lip.
"I- I'm sorry. I was a bit distracted." You spoke sheepishly, as Peter raised an eyebrow.
"Distracted by what? Me?" He asked, and you rapidly shook your head with wide eyes.
"No! You are just in the way while I was daydreaming. My eyes were just there." You tried to make up an excuse as Peter slightly narrowed his eyes.
"Well, would you please stop? You asked me to help you, so can you please just try and pay attention?" He snapped, causing you to frown in pain.
"Okay, okay. Sorry." You whispered, dropping your gaze to the ground and biting your lip. Silence filled the room again as you sat in silence before Peter just sighed again and snapped his textbook closed, startling you slightly.
"I think we should stop for today." He spoke and you turned to look at him.
"Wait, please, no, I'll pay attention." You pleaded as Peter shook his head.
"No, Y/N. What's the point in helping you if you won't pay attention?" Peter argued.
"Look, I think you should just go." He cut you off. 
You swallowed thickly as you opened your mouth to speak, thinking maybe you could convince him, but you shut your mouth, clenching your jaw as you nodded. Getting up, you shoved your stuff in your bag and quickly left the room, feeling tears of frustration towards yourself well up in your eyes. 
Peter let out a deep sigh, falling back on his bed as he rubbed his eyes. Peter knew he wasn't being fair. He didn't mean to snap at you like that, he truly regretted it and hoped you didn't take it too hard. He knew he shouldn't have gotten so angry; you didn't deserve it. He just couldn't help it. 
After Gwen's death... Peter had gotten so bitter. He wasn't sure when the anger had started, only that it had. He had spent months locked up, trying to escape from his thoughts and memories of her that haunted him day and night. He fell into a depression, barely eating, hardly sleeping. He couldn't even be the Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman. There was no Spiderman without Gwen Stacy. There was no Peter Parker without Gwen Stacy. 
But when Peter started tutoring you, getting to know you more than the girl who he just shared classes with in high school, Peter felt himself coming to like you. Like you, he liked Gwen. And Peter hated himself for that. Soon all he could think about was you. If you were having a good day, or what you were eating for dinner. He felt better than he had in a long, long time, but then Peter would feel as if he was abandoning Gwen. The guilt that weighed on him was horrible, and the constant feeling of grief made him feel sick. 
So he was pushing you away because he feared that if he let you in, he'd lose what he had left with Gwen. Even when you were in his room with him, when he looked at you, he'd see Gwen. She was haunting him, his mind morphing your face into hers, his heart breaking all over again. So he pushed you away. As he stared at the ceiling above him, he felt his chest tighten in regret. He was such a coward. A selfish idiot.
He tried to forget the hurt he saw in your eyes, but it always crept up on him like a thief. He wished there was some way to take those feelings away, but there wasn't. Every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was you. He missed Gwen. He missed her so much. Her laugh and smile, her soft voice, her warm hugs and kisses, her loving words. Everything. Everything reminded him of Gwen, every small thing. He knew deep down Gwen would've wanted him to move on, to get over her death and stop wallowing in sorrow; to be Spider-Man again and fall in love again. But Peter was stubborn. He was a stubborn and selfish idiot. How could he let himself fall in love again?
You tried your best to avoid Peter as much as you could, even in Biology. You used to sit right at the front near Peter, but you opted to sit in the back. The rest of the school week went on without any further incidents between the two of you until the weekend finally arrived. Friday morning, you woke up early, got ready for classes, and made sure to find some food for breakfast. You went from class to class, taking a lunch break at the nearby Taco Time, before going back to your last few classes. After you got home from school, you grabbed a snack from the kitchen, grabbed your laptop from your bedroom, and settled on the couch for a little movie binge while you ate. You were halfway through your third rice krispie treat when there was a light knock at your door.
You paused, mid-crunch on your sweet treat as you heard someone knock again. You groaned softly, getting up from the couch. Walking up to the door, you looked through the peephole and sighed. You knew that slightly unkempt brown hair anywhere. Unlocking the door, you opened it slightly, looking up at Peter with a frown. He mirrored that frown, but his eyes held some sort of urgency. Why was he here?
"What are you doing here, Peter?" You asked and you guess your tone was a bit harsh because he took a step back, holding his hands up defensively.
"I need to talk to you. Can I come in?" He asked and you bit your lip before slowly stepping aside, nodding. He walked in, standing awkwardly as you closed the door behind him. "Y/N, I..." He trailed off, running a hand through his hair as he stared at the floor. You waited for him to continue, but he stayed silent. It seemed like hours passed but it was only seconded. Finally, you gave in.
"Spit it out, Peter." You said sternly, passing him to sit back down on the couch.
"I'm sorry, for snapping at you. It was... Stupid of me to get so frustrated at you." He said, glancing at you, "Can you forgive me?" He added quietly and your heart twisted at the sight of Peter looking so dejected. You were tempted to tell him that yes, of course, you forgave him, but you hesitated, biting your lip.
"I don't know, Peter..." You began, "I would like an explanation."
Peter took his chance to take a seat on the couch beside you, giving you enough room so you were comfortable. He sat there, fiddling with his hands in his lap as he stared down at your carpet. 
"It's complicated." He began, "I don't really know where to start." He stated, avoiding eye contact. You frowned deeply. "I, uh, kind of... Like you." He finally admitted, glancing up at you nervously as you looked up at him.
"Oh, um," You replied lamely and suddenly you felt a lot less confident, "Like, like how, exactly?" You questioned, feeling awkward and shy, as Peter glanced at you once more.
"You're just... Really pretty." He muttered with a small anxious smile. You blushed heavily and ducked your head, looking away.
"You too, but," You began, glancing up at him confused, "What's that got to do with anything?" You asked with a hint of exasperation.
"Nothing... Uh, yeah nothing." Peter quickly stuttered out, and you raised an eyebrow, even more so confused now than ever.
"Then... Why would you bring that up at all then?" You asked and Peter pursed his lips, mentally hitting himself. "If it doesn't have to do with why you were so..." You trailed off, trying to think of the right word, "Harsh?"
Peter let out a shaky breath, staring intently at his fingers as he twitched and flexed them repeatedly. 
"Well, it is complicated." He mumbled once more.
"So explain it to me, then!" You exclaimed, annoyed, and Peter looked at you with wide eyes, "If you want to tell me, tell me. But please don't go around the mulberry bush and just cut to the chase, please." You felt your eyes well up with frustrated tears.
"I shouldn't like you." Peter suddenly spoke, confusing the heck out of you.
You furrowed your eyebrows, your brain feeling like it was overheating as you tried to think, "Shouldn't like me? Why?"
Peter just whispered, "It's not fair to her."
"Her? Who?" You asked, as a million questions ran through your mind.
"... Gwen..." Peter answered simply, still not making direct eye contact with you.
You raked through your brain, repeating the name softly as you did so, "Gwen... Gwen..." And then... It came to you. And you frowned deeply. "Oh."
You knew Gwen briefly in high school. You knew Peter and Gwen were friends or a couple at one point, but you hadn't thought about her in years. You remembered her to be a sweet and nice girl, even though she was popular, she wasn't mean to anyone, which was nice. You shared Math with her. You remembered when you heard that she died, it was heartbreaking, someone so young losing the rest of their life. She didn't deserve to die.
"I loved her," Peter spoke up, looking at you almost pleadingly. You blinked, surprised by his admission. "She meant everything to me. Everything." You didn't speak, knowing he needed to let it all out. "I feel guilty, Y/N. Guilty that I couldn't save her." Peter said in a broken tone and you reached forward, grasping one of his hands and squeezing it gently, trying to offer some comfort. He squeezed back, his grip tightening on your hand. "She was my first kiss, my first girlfriend. My first love." He continued, "And I feel guilty for liking you the way I do. I feel like I am abandoning her." He finished, letting go of your hand and burying his face in his hands.
You pushed your excitement to the back of your mind before you spoke, "That's not true," You murmured softly, rubbing circles on his back, trying to calm him down, "I think Gwen would want you to be happy."
Peter pursed his lips, before looking up at you, tears in his eyes, "I miss her so much," He confessed, "I can't stop thinking about her."
"I'm sorry, Peter," You began, "I wish there was something I could do."
Peter bit his bottom lip, glancing at you, "Could you... Could you hold me?" He asked, "Please."
You nodded, pulling Peter into your arms as he wrapped his own around your torso, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. Peter gripped the back of your shirt tightly, clinging to you as if his life depended on it. You let him cry for as long as he needed to. Your heart broke for him. You had never seen him look so vulnerable and hopeless, he was practically sobbing, his breaths ragged. You rubbed comforting circles on his back as he let out the emotions he had bottled up inside. You wished you could do something for him, you wished you could take away his pain. And the thought of Peter having feelings for you made your heart skip, but you wouldn't push Peter. You loved Peter very much, but you respected him too much to make any moves without him being ready. Besides, you wanted to give him time to heal from his loss. You were content just being Peter's friend, him being in your life in general was already more than enough.
As Peter pulled away, you wiped away the tears on his cheeks with the soft pads of your thumbs, Peter's hands wrapping gently around your wrists, holding your hands there. He shut his eyes, taking in deep breaths as he steadied himself. Once he seemed composed again, you smiled softly at him, offering him a reassuring grin. 
"There we go." You said softly, stroking his cheek. He smiled weakly at you, looking down.
"Thank you." He said.
"Of course." You replied simply and he moved to sit beside you on the couch, turning to look at you. You followed suit and turned your body to face him.
"Y/N..." He began, clearing his throat, "I'd like to... To take you out sometime. On a date." He continued to confess and you smiled up at him sadly. 
"Peter, I'd love to, but I don't want to push or rush you. If you want to wait to see if you'll ever be ready or not-"
"No, I'd also like to apologize for being a real jerk to you," Peter told you and you sighed.
"I won't pressure you into doing anything you aren't ready for." You assured him, "You don't have to take me out on a date to apologize. It's okay."
"No, no, it isn't," He insisted, "I want to ask you. I do. So if you don't want to go, you don't have to. But... I wanna take you on a date. I really, really like you, Y/N."
You felt your lips curl upwards slightly, your cheeks warming at the confession. You weren't sure what to say; this was the most genuine, honest, heartfelt thing Peter has ever said to you. You wanted to say yes.
"How about this," You spoke up, taking his large hands in yours, "We continue the tutoring until I am passing, and at the end of the semester, you can ask me again. How does that sound?"
He smiled widely, relief filling his features. "That sounds amazing," He replied, squeezing your hands.
"Cool." You replied, smiling.
"Cool." He mimicked making you laugh lightly
"So," You began, feeling your face flush, "Since you're already here, and it's Friday... Do you want to help me study?"
Peter let out a small chuckle, running his fingers through his hair, "Uh, I didn't bring my backpack."
You waved a hand dismissively, "It's fine, I was going to binge something anyway. Want to join me for a movie then? I make the best popcorn." You offered.
Peter just simply nodded, watching you fondly as you gave him a smile and did a fist-pump, before hopping off the other couch and moving to the kitchen. Peter sat back on the couch, feeling a bit better. He wasn't entirely over Gwen yet, and he didn't think he ever would be, but with you there beside him, he wasn't alone anymore. He could finally let himself be happy, it's what Gwen would've wanted. And with that thought, he smiled warmly.
Yeah, maybe things will get better.
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sincericida · 16 hours
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Andrew Garfield - aka Peter Parker - promo shoot "The Amazing Spider-Man" (2012, dir. Mark Webb)
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literaila · 5 months
the waiter
tasm!peter x reader 
"the waiter was flirting with you"  
"he couldn't stop staring at you. i thought his eyes were going to fall out of his head." 
warnings: pure fluff, baby. 
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"hey," peter whispers to you, a bit urgently. 
you don't look up from your menu, thinking fanciful thoughts of bankrupting peter. "hmm?" 
"we have to go." 
you look up, frowning. 
peter's got an urgent look on his face. his frown matches yours. 
if he didn't look so disturbed you might take the moment to appreciate the shirt he's wearing, sleeves rolled up past his forearm. you might even stare a little bit. 
but peter is frowning. and there is something wrong. 
"what?" you ask him, looking around. "what's going on?" 
"we have to leave." 
peter does not elaborate any further, because why would he? 
"okay..." you drawl, blinking at him. "why?" 
you look out the window to your left for any incoming disasters. if there was a possibility that anyone in this restaurant were to get hurt, you're sure peter wouldn't be just sitting there, waiting to have a conversation about death. 
but there's no monster outside. no robberies. no impending doom that he might need to tend to. 
your brow furrows even deeper. you stare at him, expectant. 
"the waiter was flirting with you," peter mutters, casting a glance toward the man on the other side of the restaurant. 
the man who you thought was perfectly pleasant, thank you very much. 
"he couldn't stop staring at you. i thought his eyes were going to fall out of his head." 
you snort, a bit confused. "peter," you say, a strange sort of smile on your face. "what?" 
"if i have to watch him drool all over you again, i might spontaneously combust."  
you close your menu, staring at him. 
"i'm serious, babe, we have to go." 
"we already ordered bread. and drinks." 
"i'll pay triple however much that cost. the waiter gets no tip," peter furrows his brows, considering. "okay, fine. he gets fifteen percent." 
"how chivalrous." 
"baby," peter whines, like a child. you might find it a little bit cute. "please? i'm having a hard enough time already." 
"what?" you frown. "why?" 
he blinks at you. does a slow up and down your body, raising his eyebrows. 
you think back to hands that had lingered on every inch of skin they could find on the way there. about eyes that could've burned you to the core. 
"oh," you cross your arms, self-conscious. "i thought you were kidding earlier when you said that--" 
peter stares at you blankly. 
"okay. not kidding."
his head drops down to the table, and if not for his muffled voice you might hear him groan. 
"leaf pile," you coo, softly. "i think it'll be alright. i'll even hold your hand when he comes back over." 
peter does not budge at the nickname, but you snicker internally, reaching a hand out to mess up his hair. 
he sits up, fixing it with a frown--as if it's at all salvageable. 
"is this what we've come to?" peter asks you, shaking his head. "you have to bribe me with affection? you only want to hold my hand to turn away the poor waiter--" 
"it's always been like this." 
peter points a finger at you. "not true." 
you scoff. "on our first date you tried to get me to stay up all night so we could watch the sunset--" 
"--that would've been romantic." 
"--and i had to bribe you with a goodnight kiss. just so you would let me go home." 
peter smiles like he's still pleased with himself. "you didn't want to leave. i was trying to help." 
"you just wanted to make out on the subway." 
"that's disgusting," peter says, looking away from you finally. his menu is still open, on the table, waiting to be looked at. "we could go to the diner across from your apartment."
"we went there last week." 
"great service," peter says, nonchalantly. 
"this is supposed to be a fancy date, peter." 
"what's fancier than sharing a milkshake?" 
"crème brûlée." 
peter purses his lips, a hand going to scratch at his lips. there are about ten seconds of silence. 
you use it to stare at him and wonder how he could possibly feel intimidated by anyone else. 
"fine," peter says, "we'll order dessert to go. and then we'll go get pizza." 
you open your mouth. close it. 
"you like pizza," peter reassures you. 
"i also like having a nice dinner with my boyfriend." 
"that can be arranged." 
you sigh. "even if we order dessert to go, we'll still have to talk to david again." 
peter gawks at you. "you know his name?" 
"he literally introduced himself. it was the first thing he said." 
"you remembered his name?" 
you wave a hand. "peter. you don't need to be jealous. maybe he just saw something on my face." 
peter sits back and crosses his arms. he raises an eyebrow at you, to which you smile back innocently. 
he says i know what you're doing without the words. 
"there's nothing on your face," peter says, dryly. "besides pure perfection." 
you giggle. 
peter runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head. "you're right," he relents, sighing. 
"it's okay, baby, like i said--" 
"it doesn't matter where we go," peter interrupts. "everyone's going to stare at you anyway." 
"...not where i was going with that." 
"i guess i just need to accept reality." 
"i don't think--" 
"i mean," peter finally looks you right in the eye, a hint of a smile playing on his face. "how lucky am i?" 
your face goes blank, for just a moment. 
and then, completely despite yourself, you smile at him, skin tingling at the intensity of his stare. 
of his teasing and gentle laughter as he smiles back. 
and, really, it's not your fault that you have to lean across the table to kiss him. 
he's just so goddamn irresistible. 
after a couple of seconds--and an ahem from the table beside you--you sit back down, opening your menu once again. you smile while you try and decide what to eat. 
and try to come up with the perfect way to get peter back for all of that. you've gotten as far as thanking the waiter profusely when he comes back. 
it's only a minute later when he whispers to you: 
"can i at least order the most complicated thing on the menu just to mess with him?" 
my masterlist here.
tags: @moonlarking-blog​​ @v1ci0us​​ @preciousbabypeter​​ @alexxavicry​​ @directioner5life​​ @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah​​ @localrockstargf​​  
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kingnormality · 3 months
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photo dump
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lemoneste · 1 year
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+ bonus
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Doc Ock respects pronouns. Will still kill u tho✌️
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ash5monster01 · 3 months
Hi love your andrew fic! Thank you so much for writing it <3. if you dont mind, i would like to request another. im not sure if you watched friends but theres an episode when Rachel and joey go on a “date” and they show off their date moves which is when Joey starts having a crush on Rachel lol. i was wondering if u can write something like that for Andrew. Where they’re close friends & costars & both single with an age gap? The key thing about the episode was when their date was over they showed each other what they do to get their date to kiss them and oof the tension it brings
Seal The Deal
pairing: Andrew Garfield x Femreader
warnings: mentions of sex, teasing, fluff, slow burn
summary: as friends you go on a date, wanting to remember what it was like to be taken out. In the midst of showing each other what kind of moves you would do on a real date they end up working on each other. (I love Friends and I thought this was a really clever and cute idea for Andrew even though I never shipped Joey and Rachel, but this was a fun one to write)
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You hadn’t been on a date in a very long time. No one had asked you to join them in a dimly lit restaurant in ages. You had missed being wined, dined, and pursued by another. You hadn’t been on a nice date in so long you had started to wonder if you were losing your game. So when you voiced this to your older costar he offered to wine and dine you, and allow you to feel like you’ve still been in the game despite how long it had actually been. So here you were, sat across from him, in a four star restaurant, and one of the greatest meals you’ve ever had in front of you.
“So did I do a good job?” you perked your head up to look in your costars dough eyes which were glimmering with the light from the candle in the center of the table.
“Good job on what?” you asked and he chuckled as you took a quick bite of your food.
“The date, I want to make sure this will hold you over until you finally find another guy to date” you gave him a deadpan look which filled his lungs with laughter. The belly laugh filled the restaurant and yet you couldn’t help but smile that your one look gave him that reaction.
“It’s fine Andrew, and I wouldn’t have died from withdrawal but I’m still glad to be here” you told him as his laughter quieted down.
“I’m just making sure, you were really worried about your game” he teased and you rolled your eyes as you continued to eat your meal.
“Nothing could deter my game, I’m the best there is” Andrew rose his eyebrows at this statement, intrigued by your sudden cockiness over this subject.
“Oh really, what makes you say that?” he folded his arms over, more interested in your answer than the food on his plate.
“I have date moves, they haven’t failed me yet” you acted coy not wanting to let on to too much.
“Date moves?” he asked as he leaned forward, curious now.
“Don’t look at me like you don’t have your own moves” you told him and he shrugged, falling back into his chair.
“I have tactics” you laughed as he responded, knowing he had moves of his own.
“Alright, you show me yours I’ll show you mine” Andrew rose his eyebrows but sighed and leaned back forward nonetheless despite the dirty undertone to your sentence.
“Well sometimes if a girl is talking to me I’ll reach forward and grab some hair and play with it” then suddenly Andrews long fingers reached across the table and grabbed one of your soft curls, wrapping it around his finger and moving it with such gentleness you could barely feel it, but your body felt it everywhere else.
“Doesn’t that distract her?” you asked after you struggled to find the words.
“If it does it means I have some sort of effect on her and it makes my other moves go so much smoother” Andrew spoke as he released your hair and moved back into his space of the table.
“Clever” you offered and he smiled before clapping his hands.
“All right, show me one of yours” he said before setting his hands down on the table. As he waited you smirked a little bit before setting your own hand on his. “You call this a mov-”
His sentence was cut short by your slim fingers slipping under his shirt sleeve, brushing along and making it very clear they were under the fabric. It alluded to wanting to get him out of his clothes while looking so innocent at the same time. Andrew found himself gulping as he tried to calm his heart rate the further your fingers moved up his sleeve.
“That’s my maybe you’ll get lucky move” you continued to smirk at him, noticing how he reacted the same all the guys did to that move.
“I’ll admit, I’ve never seen that one before” Andrew said as he pulled his arm away, your fingers still in his sleeve and doing things to him he hadn’t expected.
“Alright, give me another” you grinned, your focus now completely off of your food and on this fun little game you were playing.
“Okay, just start some conversation with me” he told you and you cleared your throat as you thought of a topic to discuss.
“I’m not sure if you ever knew this about me but I’m a memory hoarder. I like the keep mementos that remind me of fun moments in my life and I’m so bad about it I have the most random stuff stockpiled just because it reminds me of those moments. Do you keep anything?” but Andrew didn’t answer. In fact he had seemed too zoned in on you to even be listening. His deep stare made you start shifting in your seat and quickly you moved to make more conversation. “Andrew? Are you listening?”
“Sorry” the boy shifted upwards and shook his head as if he was shaking his thoughts away. “I wasn’t ignoring you I just got so distracted by how beautiful you are. I can’t believe I’m the lucky guy sitting with the prettiest girl in the restaurant” your blush was a deep crimson red that flowed all the way to the tips of your ears. Now that was smooth.
“So ignoring your date while she’s talking is a tactic? Good to know” you teased quickly, not wanting him to realize your whole body was now warm because of his comment.
“I was listening Y/N. I think it’s adorable you keep things that remind you of good moments. That might be my new favorite thing about you” he spoke before focusing on his food, taking some bites before it got cold.
“You have a favorite thing about me?” you couldn’t help but ask and he offered a quick smile your way.
“Yes Y/N, you’re one of my favorite people. I’d have to enjoy things about you for it to be that way” you hadn’t known Andrew had thought so highly of you and you were surprised by the feeling it gave you. You had worked on films in the past before but usually if you weren’t in the same project you both sucked at keeping in touch.
“Well that’s good to know” you told him with a soft smile and he returned it just the same. The rest of the night continued filled with good conversation and greats laughs. You actually didn’t remember the last time you had been on a date you had enjoyed the other persons presence so much. But maybe being friends made it all that much easier. So the date was a success and you found yourself sitting contently in the front seat of Andrews car.
“I’ll walk you to the door” he told you as you both exited the vehicle. It had gotten a bit cooler in the night air and he quickly shoved his hands in his pockets as you approached the door to your apartment.
“Thank you for tonight, really” you smiled at him as you turned to bid him goodbye.
“No problem, I actually had a really good time. I don’t remember the last time I enjoyed a date knowing it wasn’t leading to sex” you both laughed as he said this and you shook your head.
“Crazy that men forget how fun dates can be” you told him and he shrugged, knowing he was guilty just like every other guy.
“So, any end of the date moves you want to show me?” he whispered into the night air and you felt yourself shiver lightly.
“You first Garfield” you told him and he grinned as he stood up a bit straighter.
“Well usually when I walk a girl to her door I stand as close as I can-” he took a few steps in, his chest an inch from your face and you were forced to look up at him, his breath falling towards you. “And I tell her what a great time I had and I wish her goodnight, and when I know she’s waiting for me to kiss her, I take a small step back. When she starts to look disappointed before she even realizes I lean down and kiss her good and hard. Then hopefully she’ll invite me in”
“And what’s the success rate on that?” you asked, breathing heavily because he was still in your space.
“Nine times out of ten she invites me in. Now what about you Miss moves” you smiled and started to shake your head.
“It’s embarrassing” you started to step back from him and he quickly grabbed your wrist and pulled you back.
“No, come on. Remember you show me yours, I’ll show you mine” sighing you knew you couldn’t escape this one.
“Fine, but you can’t laugh” you glared and he nodded quickly, agreeing to your terms. Wanting to get it over with quick you prepared to move into your seal the deal move.
“I can’t believe how incredible tonight was” one by one your hands grabbed his suit jacket tugging him the tiniest bit closer without it being to noticeable. “To bad the night has to end”
Then slowly you slid your hands under the suit jacket, circling around his waist and pressing yourself flush against him. “I’m never very good at goodbyes”
Your hands traced random figures into his back and you finally looked him in the eyes, pressing your chest to his own, any space between you now disappeared. “I hope you don’t mind, it’s a bit cold”
“It’s fine” Andrew wasn’t sure if this was your move or not but it was working and he found his heart rate accelerating as he stared down into your eyes which glowed in the moonlight.
“If only tonight could last forever” you whispered, leaning up, so your mouth was only an inch from his own. The words fell from your lips and landed on his and he quickly closed his eyes as he tried to calm himself down. He had never expected to feel this towards you.
“And then I pull away and go inside, and that usually earns me the second date” you pulled away and Andrews eyes quickly snapped open, surprised you had such an effect with just your touch.
“Yeah, I can see how that works” a nervous hand reached to rub the back of his neck and you offered a smile but he saw it in your eyes. The disappointment.
“Goodnight Andrew” you turned to unlock your door. Suddenly a hand gripped your wrist and spun you around “What-”
Then just like that Andrew was kissing you on your doorstep. All the air sucked out of your lungs as you feverishly kissed back, surprised that you had wanted him to kiss you like this. When he realized you weren’t fighting him he pushed you against the door, his tongue roaming your mouth. You hummed slightly and you felt him tense as you did so. His fingers laced with your own and he quickly pushed your hands against the door on either side of your head as he continued to roam your mouth. The tension you both had built through the night was so thick that this kiss felt like a breath of relief.
You wanted to pull back but this kiss had reached the point of no return. He either needed to be in your apartment or ruin the best night you’ve had in a long time. But your stomach was on fire, your skin burning against his own, the slight scratch of his beard giving you a sensation you had never expected. The kiss was tender, but heated, and he was confident to the point it felt like you were his best kiss to date. You gripped at his collar, pulling his mouth impossibly closer to your own until you had to break apart for air.
“At least now you know your moves work” he told you, his forehead pressed against your own as he continued to pin you to your own front door.
“Yeah well so do yours, now get inside before we give my neighbors to much of a show”
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withahappyrefrain · 1 year
In the Name of Science
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For @agnesamarantheastwood who suggested this idea and allowed me to run with it.
Summary: Peter brings a lab coat home one day. It gives you an idea. How could you pass up a chance to drive him wild?
Warnings: afab!reader, oral (fem receiving), lots of bad chemistry puns, penetrative unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), did I say bad chemistry puns already? This went from smut to fluff to humor at the end.
“Welcome home Mr. Parker,” You said upon your fiancé entering the apartment you and him shared. He put down his bag (full of papers) and gave you that small, forced smile that instantly told you it had been a long day.
“Long Friday?” You asked, taking your attention away from the stove.
“Oh you know, the usual. Did you know you can say to your students “this material is corrosive; it will burn through fabric’ ten times and they’re still shocked when it burns a hole through their lab coat?” He held up the lab coat, which had a small but noticeable hole in it.
“I’m sorry babe."
“It’ll be an easy fix. Besides, I should start washing these regularly. I forgot how bad teenage B.O. is,” He said, throwing it over the chair. He walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.
“Whatcha making sunshine?” He asked, his breath hot on your neck.
“Just some salmon cakes.” This was your routine- Peter would come home and wrap his arms around you, whether you were watching TV or cooking dinner.
“I missed you,” He murmured into your neck.
“I missed you too my love,” You said, flipping the salmon cakes so one side wasn’t burned.
Your eyes darted to the table, landing on the lab coat.
An idea popped into your head.
A different idea. A spicy idea. An idea that made you inadvertently squeeze your thighs together.
“You okay sunshine?” He asked, squeezing a hip.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” You brushed off. Fuck, could he tell?
“Mmmm, your heart’s racing fast.” His large hand trailed down to your thigh, which was bare thanks to the shorts you had on. Despite years of dating, you always forgot how Peter’s ‘Spidey senses’ can detect the slightest change in you.
“My heart’s beating fast because you’re very distracting right now and the last thing I want is dinner to burn.” It convinced him enough to let go and start pulling out plates.
“Can you grab the buns?” You motioned to the ones you had gotten from your favorite deli. You turned your attention back to the stove. You felt two large hands grab your ass. You didn’t even need to turn around to know what was going on.
“Really Peter?”
“You said grab the buns. You didn’t say which buns,” He teased. You couldn’t see it, but you could practically hear the smirk in his voice
Just wait, is what you wanted to say. But why ruin a surprise?
On Saturday, you eyed Peter as he sat at the kitchen table. He had his sewing kit out and was stitching up the lab coat. God, he was hot. It was truly ridiculous. He was hunched over, bottom lip between his teeth, brow furrowed in concentration.
It only encouraged your desire to go through with this idea.
“Babe, I’m going out to run a few errands. Do you need anything?” You asked.
“Can you get more white thread? Feel like I’m going to need some more after I patch this up,” He said, not even taking his eyes off the coat in his hands.
“Sure thing! See you soon love!” You walked out, otherwise he’d see the Cheshire Cat-like grin you had on your face.
It was exciting. You had brought matching sets before, but nothing quite this extravagant. You were thankful your friend forced you to take the card of the shop they used their for wedding night.
It was time to have some fun.
When you came back, you saw the lab coat was now patched up and lying on the couch.
"Do you need me to wash this?" You asked, not even hesitating to grab it and hold it over your arm, conveniently covering the bag that contained your surprise.
"Sure, that would be great! I should get going on grading these lab reports," Peter motioned to the stack of papers he had on the coffee table.
"Better to do it now than later! Don't want your students passing notes to me, asking if I can get you to grade their papers," You teased as you walked back to the bedroom you and Peter shared.
"That was one time!" He paused, "....or two."
"Or three!" You yelled out from your bedroom. Peter had a pile of lab reports and tests that would keep him busy while you did laundry and got ready.
"How go the lab reports?" You called out from your room. You had been keeping an eye on Peter in-between doing laundry. He had remained on the couch, grading away. A benefit of when Peter hyper-focused was it made putting on surprises very easy.
"I'm almost done!" Peter called out.
So am I, you wanted to say as you buttoned the last one on the lab coat. It came down to your knees, making your thigh highs look more like stockings. You almost considered wearing Peter's glasses to complete the look, but you figured the heels and pony tail would be enough.
"Hey Pete, could you help me with something?" you asked, slowly walking out of the bedroom and into the living room.
"Is there another bug in the bathroom?" He asked, not looking up from the paper he was grading.
"No, it's actually a science experiment I need help with," you stood in front of the couch. His eyes met yours, a smile appearing on his face.
"If it's 'do I make a cute scientist', the answer is yes," He said, grinning. You shook your head and walked over to the couch.
"I have a hypothesis that I want to see if it's true or not," you explained coyly.
"And what's your hypothesis?" He asked, putting his papers to the side.
"I hypothesize that," you slid down, straddling his waist, "you're going to lose your mind once you see what's underneath this coat."
He gulped, his eyes now on the buttons of your lab coat.
"A-and what data do y-you have to back up this hypothesis?" Peter was trying, he really was. But after several years of being together, you knew you had the upper hand. You were his weakness. You could make him go from cool, confident and cocky to a stuttering, whimpering mess.
At this point, you didn't even try to hide how much you loved it.
"Similar experiments in the past have yielded similar results," you explained, "Why don't we get started?"
His hands were shaking as he moved them to the top of the lab coat. He unbuttoned one, then the second. Upon the third button, you could hear him gulp as soon as the black lace of your bra was revealed.
"That's...…that's new," he managed to get out.
"it's not the only thing I got," you grinned.
"Keep going Peter," you instructed.
"Fuck," you heard him whisper. You couldn't hide your grin.
"So is my hypothesis accurate?" You asked.
"I don't think the experiment is done sunshine," his hands were moving quicker, but still shaking. His eyes widened when he saw the black garter belt which revealed you were wearing thigh highs, not stockings.
Once the final button was undone, you leaned back, placing your hands on his knees to show off the set you had gotten and to take in Peter's expression.
He was trying, trying really hard not to lose it. But his heavy breathing was telling you otherwise. You couldn't help but feel like you were on display, with the way his eyes were looking all over, burning into your skin. He licked his lips, like he wanted to devour you whole.
You were more than happy to oblige.
His hands slid past the coat, cupping your breasts. You bit your tongue as he thumbs moved across your nipples, causing them to stiffen. Which was very obvious thanks to the thin, sheer fabric.
"So...have we reached a conclusion for our experiment?" You asked. You knew he knew how turned on you were. And yet, you were still determined to have the upper hand.
"Yeah," he looked at you, a smirk appearing, "The conclusion is you're way too fucking hot."
You grinned, "So I'm an exothermic reaction? Spreading hotness everywhere?" You motioned to the tent that had formed in his grey sweatpants.
He cocked his head to the side, confused as to whether he should be turned on or not, "Are....are you making chemistry puns?"
You couldn't help but giggle, "It's a chemistry lab coat! And you're a chemistry teacher," you leaned in so your breath was hot on his ears, "and I know it turns you on when I'm simultaneously cute and hot at the same time."
"You should be careful about adding more variables to your experiment, dear," Peter grunted.
You felt him grab the back of your thighs. Instinctively, you threw your arms around his neck. Your instinct was on point, as the next thing you knew, Peter was carrying you over to the kitchen table. The table you may or may not have cleared off in anticipation of this.
He sat you down. It caused him to lean down, which made him at eye level with you. This made kissing much easier. Not that his lips were on yours for long.
You let out a shudder once you felt his teeth nipping at your neck. His hands were all over, making their way from your breasts to your hips. You felt his fingers fumble with the straps of your garter belt, snapping them off the thigh highs. You lifted your hips so it was easier for Peter to slide your now very soaked panties down your legs. You motioned to the lab coat.
"Please keep it on, you're fulfilling like four different fantasies I've had since high school," He said in between pressing kisses into your exposed thighs.
You were about to make a snide remark, but then his mouth was on your core, lapping up your wetness and suddenly you forgot what words were. You tangled your fingers into his chestnut hair, tugging on his soft locks.
The moan he let out against your cunt was guttural and the vibrations it sent up your body caused you to arch your back.
"Fuck P-Peter, feels s'good," You praised, knowing it would turn him on even more.
He continues his assault on your cunt, too wrapped up in how divine you taste to make a bad chemistry joke. He had been able to smell you from the bedroom, before you even came out. In hindsight, he was glad he didn't ruin the surprise. But god, was he desperate for you.
"P-,Peter," you whined, tugging on his hair to get attention, "w-wanna c-come w-with you inside me. Please."
He shook his head, pulling away, "Gotta get my pretty little scientist ready for my cock."
Peter dove back in between your thighs. You arched your head back, careful not to hit it against the table (you had done that before). Despite the little clothing you were wearing, you felt hot. Everywhere.
Weren't you supposed to be the one running the show here?
When you felt two fingers inside of you, you stopped caring. He stretched you out, working that spot that made you breathless. The thoughts in your head were fuzzy and warm. You had lost control of your body with you legs shaking and thrashing against Peter's head. He had one arm wrapped around your waist, trying to keep you in place.
Every nerve felt like it was on fire. The fabric of the lab coat provided friction against your back and shoulders. The neighbors could probably hear how much you enjoyed this and you could expect a noise complaint in your mailbox in two to three business days.
Actually, given how loud you moaned out Peter's name when you came, that noise complaint was probably going to arrive with priority mailing.
Peter would normally continue to lap you up. Try to make you come at least once or twice more. As much as he loved making you fall apart from pleasure, he needed you.
You could tell by the way he quickly moved from your thighs to hovering over your upper body.
"Fuck you're hot," You whispered, breathless.
"I'd say you're a pretty perfect arrangement in atoms too," He grinned, his hands moving to the waistband of his sweats.
You were so stunned that he had made a chemistry joke that you didn't notice him lowering his pants and boxers. It was when he grabbed your thighs to pull you to the edge of the table that you realized that you had achieved your goal.
Peter Parker was fucking you while you wore a lab coat. He wasn't the only one who's had science-themed fantasy since high school.
You couldn't help but smile.
"Is someone happy they're getting fucked?" He asked, his voice low and hushed.
"You must be a diamond," You bit your lip to hold back a moan, "because I gave you a hardness of 10."
He rolled his eyes, a smirk still evidence on his face. Peter increased the hardness he used to thrust into you, gripping your thighs harder.
You grinned. You wondered if you could get him to crack.
"You're hotter than a Bunsen burner. A-all t-the way t-turned u-up," He didn't even wait for you to finish the joke before he began to pound into you. He eyes were narrowed in concentration but you could see the edges of his mouth turning upwards. There was a warm gleam in his eyes, the kind that made you feel soft, safe, and loved.
"Even the Kelvin scale couldn't-"
"I can't wait to marry you," He said quickly, before bending down to press his lips against yours. You nodded your head feverishly, your fingers snaking into his hair.
His lips trailed up, resting on your forehead. It was that sweet, intimate display of affection, combined with how his cock was hitting that sweet spot over and over, that did you in. The grip you had on his hair tighten as you came.
It wasn't the only grip you had on him.
A string of obscenities left his mouth, his thrusts becoming sloppy. Suddenly, he stilled, emptying out inside of you.
For the next few minutes, the two of you laid there, trying to catch your breath. Heavy panting filled the room. Peter pressed small kisses into your jawline.
"You know, I hear chemists do it on the table-"
"Periodically?" Peter finished for you. You raised an eyebrow. He shrugged in response.
"I teach chemistry. You think I wouldn't know the most basic pickup line?" He pretended to be insulted. You grinned, shaking your head against his cheek.
"You use them so well....almost like you've used them on someone else before," you teased.
"Just an this amazing, beautiful woman who wore lingerie under a lab coat for me."
"Huh, sounds like you should marry her," You rested your forehead against his. Now it was his turn to grin.
"I am. I am going to marry her," he gently rubbed his nose against yours. He sighed, happily. Peter looked completely at peace. It was your favorite look on him. It was a look you wished you could keep him in forever. It's what he deserved.
The two of you laid there, smiling and staring into each other's eyes. You enjoyed it before realization set in.
"We're going to need to wash this lab coat again, aren't we?"
"Oh, one hundred percent, Peter. Though it is your turn to wash it."
"Oh, so we're taking turns now?"
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peachyspaceslvt · 5 months
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Peter Parker
—The Amazing Spider-Man
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the-amazing-simp · 4 months
congrats on 500 followers! for 📸 can you write tasm!peter x reader where the reader is baking and peter is just there to sit and look pretty
Thank you so much for requesting this! I'm so sorry it took so long <3
My 500 celebration is now closed!
Sweet Tooth | TASM P.P.
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“Please, I promise I’ll be careful.” Peter pleaded, giving you the best puppy dog eyes he could muster. 
“Peter, for someone who’s Spider-Man, you managed to almost burn down the apartment twice. Both times you were in the kitchen.” You said, swatting him away with a wooden spoon.
“I won’t even go near the oven.” He kept on trying.
“How about I make you a deal?” You dragged him to the stool at the end of the counter, “If you sit down and cause as minimal damage as possible, I’ll let you lick the spoon.” 
Ever a child at heart, your boyfriend nodded with a smile, eyes lighting up with delight. 
While Peter was snacking on a bowl of chocolate chips and you were whipping the batter, he suddenly contemplated, “What’s with you and Aunt May getting on my case about domestic stuff?” 
You shook your head, silently telling him that you had no idea what he was talking about. 
“First, when I did the laundry, Aunt May goes all laundry sheriff commando on me and I’m basically banned from doing laundry at her house. Now, you ban me from the kitchen.” Peter practically pouted.
“Well, when you did the laundry everything turned pink. It was like something from the set of Mean Girls.” You laughed.
Your boyfriend jokingly rolled his eyes at you, “I forgot to separate the Spider-Man suit.” 
“Yeah then when Aunt May interrogated you, you washed the American Flag.” You said, going to preheat the oven.
“That’s a perfectly good reason. It has red and blue and white.” Peter argued.
Placing the cookie tray in the oven, you turned to him, “If that’s the case, then congratulations! You will be put down in the Guinness Book of World Records as the first ever person who washed the American flag.” 
“Whatever.” He huffed, “But there’s still the kitchen matter.” 
As promised, you handed him the bowl and spoon to lick, “Peter if you wanted to commit arson, then do it at an abandoned house where they will be zero casualties.” 
“You’re quite on a cheery strike today.” Peter teased.
“Keep going and you’ll lose the bowl and spoon and you won’t get any cookies and you’ll be banned from stepping into the kitchen altogether.”
General Taglist: 
@rogueharrington, @hunnybunimdun, @andrewgarfield2022, @jasmin7813, @andrewgarfieldsbae, @spxiiee, @shaded-echoes, @holy-macncheese-balls, @mcugeekposts, @dwindlinghaze, @anonyymoouussssss
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spookycookie · 10 months
Me to myself when I thirst over fictional characters and celebrities
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sincericida · 1 day
Shirtless Andrew Garfield appreciation post:
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Hope you enjoyed it. I didn’t know I needed this AG content crumbs post until I made him.
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literaila · 5 months
tasm!peter x reader 
summary: you wake up on peter’s chest. 
warnings: ‘tis just fluff
a/n: welcome to “verity is sick in bed so here comes an influx of blurbs” 
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when you wake up, it's to peter's heart beating beneath your ear. 
a gentle lull in the dark; a trick he's playing on you. 
because you really shouldn't be asleep at three in the afternoon. and you'd promised him that you'd finish the movie. 
these are the thoughts you wake up to--head throbbing a bit more than it usually does. 
peter's heart laughs at you. it responds with a gentle call back to sleep, telling you that there's no need to be awake when you can fall back into the arms of not having to do a single thing. it sings to you, knowing how fragile your resolve is. 
and it would be nice. 
but you flinch awake, eyes opening all at once. 
you're right on top of peter, so he jolts with you, releasing a breath into the world. 
"woah," he says, hand around your back pulling you even tighter. "you okay?" 
his other hand is on your head, drawing a picture you'll never get to see. you almost keen into the touch. 
you blink away the sleep, looking up at him to find soft eyes on you, a smile, and a crinkle of concern. 
"how long was i asleep?" 
peter hums, rubbing a hand on your back. "about a half hour. not long." 
you frown. "is the movie over?" 
"i turned it off. we'll finish it some other time," he's smiling at you, just enough to ease that shame into your chest. 
you groan into his, tasting cotton. 
"i'm sorry, peter," you say, not that he can hear you, "we were going to finish it." 
peter laughs. his hand is still on your head, still tempting you with the idea of letting it drag you back down. he pulls you even closer, letting a kiss fall right beside his hand. "we were never going to finish it." 
"what'd you mean?" you mumble, into his shirt. 
"i just wanted you to lay down." 
you lift your head, only slightly. "this was a trap?" 
"yeah," peter purses his lips. "you weren't going to settle down any other way." 
"you tricked me with cuddles?" 
you can see it on his perfectly sculpted face--the effort not to laugh. 
"mutual benefits," peter says, simply. 
you push his hand off of your head and he scoffs. 
"i'm not cuddling with you anymore," you tell him, pouting. 
you both know that his hand is still wrapped around your waist in a makeshift hug. and you both know that you haven't moved an inch. 
still, peter's eyes soften. "i did it for you," he claims, with a face that is too sweet. 
you scowl. "you're a liar." 
he only smiles, brings his spare hand to trace your jaw. and he doesn't answer, because he has no excuse. 
"you wanted me to fall asleep so that you didn't have to spend time with me." 
peter laughs at the pure absurdity of that sentence. 
but you're still frowning, so he ruffles your hair. 
"on the contrary," peter says, close to your ear now. voice low enough that you know he's only saying it to you. "i wanted to cuddle with you on the couch for a little while." 
"you lured me in with a movie." 
his sweet words hold nothing to your stubbornness. especially when you've only just woken up. 
and you just completely ignore the hand on your back, rubbing tense places you'd forgotten existed. 
"you didn't want to watch a movie," peter claims. 
"maybe i did." 
"you fell asleep." 
"maybe i was listening to the movie." 
peter snorts. "you were snoring." 
"i do not snore, peter parker." 
the corners of his eyes crinkle, amused at you. at the angle you're at, you can see when he swallows. you can memorize the indents on his skin, sculpt him out of nothing. 
"you do snore," he says, softly. "it's adorable." 
"it's not adorable." 
peter looks up at the ceiling, and you watch his eyes as they move from place to place. "how would you know?" he asks, looking back at you. 
and you just about forget that you're arguing with him. 
you swallow. "i have an app." 
peter raises a brow. "an app?" 
"yes. it records me while i sleep." 
"does it?" 
"and i don't snore." 
at least peter's laugh is quiet. "you trust this app more than you trust me?" 
you pretend to think about it for a moment. 
to think about falling asleep at just the sound of his heart. 
peter mock drops his jaw, frowning. "and i thought you loved me." 
"what gave you that impression?" 
peter proceeds to stare at you for so long that you burst out giggling into his chest. 
and you can't see it, but he's smiling at you in a brand of adoration that is completely his own. he's completely entranced in every single beat of your heart. 
"i'm sorry for tricking you," peter says, to just your head. "but you were tired." 
"i thought you wanted to cuddle." 
"like i said: i got to cuddle and you got some more sleep. joint interest." 
"a breach of contract," you argue, looking back up at him. 
"you're supposed to bring me to bed when i fall asleep on the couch so that i'm not sore. paragraph seven." 
you feel peter's chest vibrate in a silent laugh. 
"i was acting as your bed. that's better than just throwing you on some mattress." 
"you are literally hard as stone." 
"...i'm going to take that as a compliment." 
"there is no fat here. just rock-hard abs," you poke his chest, laughing when he squirms just a little. 
"you know, you weren't complaining earlier when--" 
you groan into his chest and peter wraps you in his arms again, hugging you like he's not sure what else he can do. 
you lean into him, enjoying the warmth. 
enjoying the sound of his heart as it races below you. 
peter mumbles something that you can't hear, but you look up at him, questioning eyes. 
he shakes his head like he's changed his mind about something. "do you want to go to bed?" he whispers, thumb rubbing against your cheek, laughing when he feels you twitch beneath it. "you didn't sleep for very long." 
"can we just stay here?" 
you cuddle into his chest again, now allowing his heart to lure you. 
"sure, bug," peter says, softly. "whatever you want." 
and you fall asleep to the sound of his heart; clenched in your grasp. 
my masterlist here. 
tags:  @moonlarking-blog​ @v1ci0us​ @preciousbabypeter​ @alexxavicry​ @directioner5life​ @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah​ @localrockstargf​
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pctcr · 1 year
how it should have been
hello loves! this is an andrew!peter x fem!reader, i hope you guys like it! to those of you who celebrate: merry christmas and happy holidays to those who don't.
thank you dearly to my betas who helped me make this big thing cohesive
there are SPOILERS for nwh, so read at your own discretion :)
prompt: reader wakes up in the wrong universe after dying in her original one
pairing: andrew!peter x fem!reader (fem pronouns, no specific anatomy)
warnings: swearing, nwh spoilers, mentions of death
word count: 8449
You can barely see anything. It’s too dark to make out your surroundings and you’re cold. You shiver, looking around to try and get any idea of where you are. A bright light starts rushing towards you and suddenly, you’re falling.
You’re falling among several pieces of debris. A shadow above you is chasing you, too, but you can’t make out any discerning features. You fall for what feels like forever, the ground getting closer and closer. The debris starts to cloud your vision, the shadow disappearing behind it. The last thing you feel is pure terror.
You wake with a start, a thin layer of sweat covering your body. You let out a long sigh, covering your eyes with the back of your hand. You had another nightmare. You have them every night, after all, a continuous falling with a chasing black shadow above you. You always wake right before you hit the ground.
You finally decide to get up, attempting to rid your thoughts of your nightmare. You have your first day back at Midtown today - it was the first day back for everyone, including the majority of those who disappeared five years ago. When you woke up that day, you were cold and laying on the concrete. Your head was pounding with a raging headache and your back hurt, too. With no idea where to go or what to do, especially with no recollection of how you’d gotten there, you go to the police. They sent you to a foster system since you were under the age of 18 and you were placed in a foster home just outside of the city.
They were kind enough to buy you all of the necessities - clothes, shoes, and a phone. Your foster parents are never home much, but you appreciate all they’ve done for you thus far. You dress for school, eat a small breakfast, and begin your journey to Midtown.
The short train ride helps with waking up and forgetting your nightmare. The rumble under you settles you, somehow reminding you that you’re alive. A nightmare is just a nightmare, nothing more.
The crowd outside of Midtown is daunting. There’s groups of people talking amongst themselves as you pass them and their soft conversations fall on deaf ears. You push the door open and step inside, the air conditioning inside the building a lot colder than it is outside.
Your first class is on the second floor. You make your way up the stairs and find an empty seat in the classroom, paying no mind to the two boys who slide into seats in front of you. They converse in hushed voices until the teacher arrives. She takes attendance, calling out names in a random order. You raise your hand when she calls yours and you’re about to zone out again when she calls a name that has your heart rate increasing.
“Peter Parker?” She says and the boy directly in front of you raises his hand and you stare at the back of his head, trying to figure out why his name struck a chord in you.
After class you catch him as he’s leaving with the guy he sat next to. “Hey,” you call after him and he pauses, offering you a friendly grin.
“Hey,” He replies and when he notices your hesitation, his grin falls a little. “What’s up?”
You take a moment to think of how to reply. “Your name is familiar,” you say and he exchanges a glance with his friend.
“Uh,” Peter chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “[Name], right? Sorry, I don’t know anyone with that name. Well, I guess I do now.”
You give him a smile. “Sorry, yeah, it was kind of weird to start out with that.” You hold out your hand, offering a handshake to introduce yourself.
Peter takes your hand, shaking it. “No worries, it’s nice to meet you.”
His friend finally speaks. “Were you blipped, too?”
“Yeah, um,” you shake your head a little, casting your gaze down to your feet. “Yeah.” You settle on saying, smiling a little awkwardly when you look up again.
“My name’s Ned. Peter and I both were, too.” Ned holds out his hand to shake as well, and you mirror his movements. Your hands bump and you laugh a little as you shake his hand.
Peter lets out a long breath, his shoulders rising and falling with it. “Well, you’re more than welcome to sit with us at lunch. I can imagine being blipped might, uh, bring us together.”
You’re taken aback by his offer, but nod in agreement. “Sure, thanks.”
Your friendship with Peter and Ned grew stronger over time and, soon after, they introduced you to MJ. You four became a solid friend group - you guys did everything together. It made you feel better to have friends that didn’t judge you for your memory loss. Your therapist believes it was due to PTSD and there’s not much to be done about it. It barely affects you. You wonder about your parents and why your name wasn’t registered in the system often, but thinking about it too much causes your nightmares to get worse. It always makes them worse, so you try to avoid the topic when possible. Your friends didn’t ask after the first time around and you’re thankful.
You shiver as you enter the cafe that MJ works at, your coat is a bit too thin for the weather outside but you didn’t bother to grab a heavier one. You spot Ned sitting in his usual spot and MJ behind the counter. You approach him and take the seat next to him, nudging him softly in greeting. The air is heavy as you, Ned, and MJ await Peter’s arrival. Your letter from MIT sits in front of you, folded in half from being in your pocket. Ned’s sits in front of him as well, way more pristine looking than yours.
“Are you guys nervous?” You ask the other two.
MJ shrugs. “I don’t know, kind of.”
Ned nods. “I don’t know either. Just want to open it already.”
You’re not expecting to get in. You’re not sure any of you are, especially in light of the recent events surrounding Peter’s identity as Spider-Man. You found out the same day as Ned, as the two of you were waiting in his bedroom when he crawled in through the window in a full suit. Something about Peter being Spider-Man just made sense, but you had no idea why. The bell above the door rings as Peter opens the door, approaching the three of you with his own envelope in his hand. You all exchange glances before opening the letters, the thick silence being filled with the sound of paper ripping.
You read the first sentence of the letter and your heart falls. You knew this was going to be the outcome and yet, you feel a lump forming in your throat. You sigh heavily, putting the letter down and pushing it away from you in a small form of anger.
You shake your head a little as you make eye contact with Peter. MJ and Ned have similar expressions of disappointment on their faces.
“It’s alright,” MJ breaks the silence and you nod, agreeing with her. In the grand scheme of things, it’s terrible and unfair, but you wouldn’t trade your friendship with Peter for the world. Everything would be okay, even if you had to wait a year or so before applying again.
“Peter,” you say upon seeing the look on his face. “We all love you. We wouldn’t trade our friendship with you for a college admission, anyways. We can apply again.”
“Yeah,” Ned says. “Don’t worry about it.”
You find out the next day that Peter did, indeed, worry about it. Your phone vibrates next to you on the end table and you answer without much hesitation upon seeing Peter’s contact. “Hey, what’s up?” You say casually, laying back down in your previous position in an attempt to get comfortable again.
“Hey, hey, are you okay?” Peter asks in an alarmed voice.
You sit up, suddenly confused and worried. “Yeah, everything’s good here. What’s going on?”
“I need your help,” he says, “I can explain it once you get here.”
“Okay,” you say without any more convincing, placing your phone between your shoulder and your ear as you pull on your shoes. “Where am I headed?”
You arrive at 177A Bleecker Street just as Ned and MJ do. “Hey, do either of you know what’s going on?” You ask, your hands deep in your jacket pockets and they are trembling slightly. Ever since Peter called you, you’ve felt sick with anxiety. You couldn’t tell if it was for him… or something else.
“No,” MJ says, approaching the door to knock on it. “He called me, said he needed my help… All of our help.”
Doctor Strange opens the door and you force your expression to be neutral, following behind your friends inside. Peter emerges from the left side of the building, rushing to give MJ a hug and nodding at you and Ned in thanks.
The three of you have a short but enlightening conversation with the Doctor, namely a “please Scooby-Doo this shit.”
Peter leads the three of you down to a basement, but catches your arm as you're passing him to inspect the contents of the room. “Are you alright?”
You frown a little. “Yeah, why?”
Peter releases your arm. “You seem anxious.”
You chuckle a little. “Well, your call certainly sparked some anxiety, Peter.”
“That’s not it,” he protests. “Is something going on?”
You shrug. “Apart from this,” you say, gesturing to the extra part of the basement. “I guess something just doesn’t feel right.”
Peter nods. “Right, it’s probably best I just explain it to you guys.”
Peter gives the three of you a run-down on the situation. Villains from other universes and an unhinged spell. The feeling of something being wrong just seems to get worse for you - especially when Peter speaks about a green, flying guy. Something about it just sends shivers down your spine and makes you want to hide.
When Doctor Otto mentions Osborn, it gets even worse, if possible. Your body tenses and your eyes grow wide. The name ‘Osborn’ sends a shiver down your spine.
MJ looks at you with a concerned glance. “Are you alright?”
You nod. “I just don’t like this.”
MJ’s silence doesn’t help you feel any better, but you try to ignore it.
You want to help despite your unconscious fears, so you stay behind with MJ and Ned, watching the live feed from Peter’s phone as he treks through a dark forest.
Suddenly, a man made of electricity appears behind Peter. He tries to trap him, but you watch as the flash of orange flies directly through the enemy. You hate the way your chest tightens in anxiety when the video cuts. This guy makes you feel the same way that the green one does - afraid. You stand, starting to pace around to try and rid yourself of the feeling in your gut.
It only gets worse when two new villains arrive, trapped behind the invisible walls of their makeshift cells. You hate the way one of them stares at you silently, watching as you avoid his gaze and turn your back. You see recollection and confusion in his hard gaze, but you have no idea why. You breathe deeply as MJ answers the call from Peter, letting you know he’s okay.
“Are you alright?” Ned asks, approaching you and placing a hand on your shoulder.
You nod. “Yeah, he’s just… staring at me,” you say back, your voice low enough for only Ned to hear.
Ned turns a bit to look, seeing the electric one boring a hole into the back of your head. “I don’t know what his problem is, but you’re safe,” He mumbles back, patting your shoulder before turning back to the computer. You let out a shaky sigh and await Peter’s return.
“Hey,” the electric guy says and you turn. “Do I know you?”
You shake your head. “I don’t think so. This isn’t your universe-”
“She does look familiar,” the lizard speaks, approaching the edge of his cell to look at you better.
You’re about to reply when Peter brings in another guy, dressed in green and purple. Your stomach clenches uncomfortably when his eyes pass over you and pause. You raise your eyebrows in question, but he says nothing.
“Osborn?” Doc Ock asks the newcomer.
You hold in a gasp of shock, moving backward to put more space between you and him. Something about him, something about that name scares you. MJ shoots you a look, wordlessly asking if you’re okay. You want to say yes but the fear in your body won’t let you reply.
Strange appears a few seconds later, trapping the final guy in his own cell. You stand near the same spot, staring as Peter and Strange have an argument over whether or not to help these guys. Something about the spell being reversed upsets you, too, but you can’t figure out why.
Peter runs past the three of you, MJ guarding his exit from Doctor Strange. It doesn’t matter, though, he disappears with his own portal to chase Peter down.
Peter returns sometime later, yelling about how he won in his battle against Strange and asks you three to hold onto the spell while he figures out cures for the villains. You follow MJ and Ned back to Ned’s house, settling into a kitchen chair while the three of you wait for Peter’s call.
It never comes, though. “I’m gonna press it,” MJ says after around an hour of silence from Peter and countless news stations covering the damage done to Happy’s apartment building where he and May were staying.
The news of May’s death overwhelms you. It makes you feel small in comparison to everything that’s going on and you need some fresh air. You feel safe enough, the complex is unknown to the villains thus far and even then, you feel you would see them before they saw you. Once outside, you try calling Peter again, but he doesn’t answer. You didn’t expect him to - he was mourning the loss of his Aunt and you understood that. You sent him a text, telling him that you guys were there for him whenever he was ready to talk about it.
Your spot on the stairs outside is a nice sightline of the lights of the city, even though the view itself was mainly of the garbage alley outside the building. You’re immersed in your own thoughts when you see movement out of the corner of your eye in the alley. You frown, standing slowly and peering into the alley. It’s a bit too dark to make out anything other than dumpsters but you are certain you saw something move. You stand, opening your phone to call Ned, only to have a call from him appear on your screen. You answer. “Ned?”
“Yeah, you gotta get back up here, [Name].” Ned says, his voice urgent.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.” You say as you start to climb the stairs. “I saw something moving in the alley, I can’t tell if it was an animal or a person, but…” You trail off. “I’m really worried about him.”
“We all are,” Ned agrees.
“I just wish he would pick up,” You say as you knock on the door. You hang up as MJ unlocks and opens the door. The look on her face is that of surprise. “What?” You ask softly as you step inside.
“Um…” MJ says, clearly not knowing how to phrase what she wants to say. She turns her gaze to face the kitchen and as you’re turning to look, your heart begins to race. There’s a guy standing there, in a Spider-Man costume, but it’s not Peter. You stare, an uncomfortable lump forming in your throat and your eyes begin to burn with oncoming tears. “He’s-”
“Peter…” You whisper, cutting her off. You know him. You remember him. You remember his voice, his touch, his smile. You remember your dates and how he bought you flowers. You… remember falling. The nightmares you’ve been having for months, the ones where you fall and wake before you hit the ground, were your last memories. The shadow chasing you… it was him. It was your Peter, chasing you down in his Spider-Man suit, trying to catch you.
“[Name]...” He says, his voice shaky. His eyes are full of tears that begin to roll down his cheeks.
“You… know him?” Ned asks, looking between the two of you.
You can’t manage to speak, so you nod. You can’t seem to move, either, shock filling your entire body and paralyzing you as memories flood back. You recognized Peter’s name because this is your Peter. You went to school with him and you fixed his wounds when he crawled in your window at night. How did you get here?
Instead of you having to move, Peter approaches you slowly. “[Name]...” He whispers, reaching out to grab your hand. You let him and he laughs in denial as more tears roll down his face. “You’re… real…” His voice meek, as he moves his shaking hand up to your cheek and gently rubs the skin with his thumb.
You stare at him. You can barely comprehend all of the memories that come associated with this Peter, let alone the fact that in his universe, you died. “I’m supposed to be dead,” you whisper. “I-I fell…”
This causes him to cry a bit harder. “I tried to catch you. I… Your head…” He closes his eyes and forces the tears out of them. Peter steps forward, wrapping his arms around you tightly and burying his face in your hair. You wrap your arms around him, his familiar scent making this frighteningly real. You don’t belong in this universe just as much as he doesn’t. His hand comes up to hold the back of your head, his gloved fingers tangling in your hair. He’s holding your head exactly where it hurt when you woke up and you feel it’s intentional. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” He whispers in your ear.
“I’m sorry,” MJ interjects. “What is going on?”
Peter lets you pull away but doesn’t move from your side, his hand finding yours and playing gently with it. It’s as if he’s reassuring himself that you’re real, not in his imagination.
“Peter was my boyfriend… We both went to Midtown and…” You shake your head, unable to get your thoughts in order. “He was… fighting that stupid green guy, his son, and he… I fell. I died.”
“So, wait, you’re… not from this universe, too? You blipped, though, right?” Ned asks, the look on his face just as confused as MJ’s.
“I thought so. I showed up when everyone else did but… my memories…”
“Blip?” Peter asks, looking at you with red rimmed eyes and a concerned look on his face.
“There was this alien guy, he wiped out 50% of the population,” Ned explains. “Our Peter, me, MJ… we all disappeared and came back five years later. [Name] woke up the same day we did.”
“I woke up on the concrete.” You say softly. “My head and-and my back were really hurting but I… was alive. I didn’t remember anything.”
“But you remembered Peter’s name,” Ned adds.
“It was familiar, but I had no idea why.” You turn to Peter, who’s still tearing up, but he offers you a small smile.
“So… wait, does that mean when the spell happens… [Name] will leave, too?” MJ asks.
It hits you then as MJ speaks that if you return to your universe, you might die. “Oh, my God, I… I could die.”
“You’ve been here for a while,” Ned offers. “This could have changed your fate just like theirs, right?”
“I-I don’t know,” You say, looking between Peter and Ned. “We have to get a hold of him.” You say and MJ nods.
“Ned, try to find him again,” MJ says, gesturing to the ring on Ned’s hand.
You’re confused, watching as Ned opens a portal, similar to the ones you’ve seen Strange using. Another man steps through and you share a look with Peter. He looks a little older than the rest of you.
“Hi…” He says, smiling kindly. “I’ve seen you guys before but… that’s not your friend…” He continues, looking at Peter with a perplexed look.
You jerk away from Peter, closer to MJ, as he shoots a web at the new guy and you watch as they both mimic each other’s movements. You look between the two of them, bewildered at their reactions. “Alright,” you say, looking at MJ. “I will say… I don’t know this one.”
She chuckles a little. “Good to know.”
“Well,” you say. “We need to find Peter, our Peter.”
Ned nods and MJ pulls out her phone to check if he had replied yet. She shakes her head, looking up to the group.
“Well,” older Peter begins. “Is there some place he goes to… get away from everything?”
“Mine was the-” Suited Peter starts.
“Empire State building,” You both say at the same time. You share a glance with him, blushing a little under his intense gaze. You’re starting to remember the smaller details the longer he’s in your presence. As much as you’re happy to know who you are, you worry for the future of your duration in this universe and possibly your old one.
MJ recalls he might be atop the school building. The group leaves Ned’s house, walking quickly to avoid other people seeing suited Peter and the magic box. Suited Peter, your Peter, walks close to you. You hold out your hand to him and he instantly takes it, intertwining his gloved fingers with yours. It turns out that MJ was right - Peter was sitting on top of the school all by himself. You gently squeeze Peter’s hand, letting go and following MJ and Ned up to the roof.
You hate to see him like this. He looks so small. MJ, Ned, and you approach him, crouching down to hug him in an effort to comfort him even a little bit. Your heart breaks as he cries and you rub circles onto his back, trying your best not to cry yourself. You loved May the couples times you met her and seeing one of your best friends this distraught hurts.
When he calms down a little, MJ introduces him to the two new Peter’s. He’s shocked, but doesn’t let it get to him. He wants to press the button and send them all home. He’s angry about May, he wants the Green Goblin gone, but that spell might send you to your death, too.
MJ and you exchange a look and she moves the box just out of his reach and she glances up to them, hoping Peter will get the message and listen.
“I lost… I lost [Name].” Suited Peter says, the reflection of light in his eyes making it evident he was tearing up. “She was my MJ.”
The Peter next to you looks at you, confusion written all over his face. “[Name]?” He asks, but you shake your head.
“Peter,” you say, your voice trembling a little. “If you press that button… I might…”
“[Name] might die, too.” Ned says. “When the blip happened, [Name] woke up the same day as the rest of us, but she’s not from this universe. She’s from his,” He gestures towards suited Peter.
“What?” Peter asks softly, looking between you and suited Peter. “You’re-?”
“My memories are still slowly coming back, but I… You remember my nightmares?” You ask and he nods, so you continue. “Those nightmares are my last memories. The shadow chasing me… it’s him. He was trying to catch me.”
“So… You somehow made it into this universe after you died in his?” Peter asks and you nod again. “And you could…” He trails off.
“Peter, we get it,” older Peter says. “When my Uncle Ben died, I hunted down the men that I thought did it. I got what I wanted, but it didn’t make it better.”
“I got rageful,” suited Peter adds. “I stopped pulling my punches.” He looks down at you and you stare back, trying to force down the uncomfortable lump in your throat. Hearing about how upset he was saddening and you hope that he never feels like that again.
You look at your friends and let out a shaky sigh. “It’s worth a shot, right?” You ask.
Peter eventually agrees and all of you head to the lab inside the school building. The three Peters discuss who is going to repair whose cure and you watch from your place on a stool, leaning onto the counter. You’re immersed in your own thoughts when someone sits in the stool next to you. You turn, finding suited Peter wearing a lab coat.
You laugh a little, reaching out to touch the fabric of it. “Why?” You ask simply, a soft grin adoring your face.
“Makes me feel professional.” Peter responds, offering you a smile as well. It slowly drops, though, as you look at him.
“What?” You inquire, leaning forward a little and placing a hand on his knee. “You okay?”
He screws his eyes shut, moving to place his hand over yours. “[Name], I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.”
“Peter,” you say softly, taking his hand in yours and squeezing it reassuringly. “I forgive you. You tried to get me to leave, you tried to save me… That’s all I could have asked for.” He doesn’t speak, so you continue. “I’m fine now, let’s focus on that, right?”
He nods, finally opening his eyes. “Right. I’m really glad you… you’re okay. I��m not certain how this even happened but I’m really fucking glad.”
You move both of your hands up to his cheeks, taking in his soft features. Being able to touch him makes your anxiety dwindle just a little, so you’re grateful he lets you. “I’m glad too,” You respond, smiling as he leans into your touch. “Can I grab you something for the cure?”
Peter hums softly, pressing a kiss to your palm as you remove your hands from his cheeks. He gives you a short list of things and you stand, walking to the adjacent room full of lab materials.
You’re in there for a few minutes when you hear footsteps approaching you. You see suited Peter out of the corner of your eye. “Hey, sorry, I found the first two but I’m missing the last one. Are you sure they don’t have it out there-” You pause, feeling his arms wrap around you from behind. You sigh, leaning back into his chest, still surveying the cabinet for the last ingredient. “What’s up?” You ask.
“[Name].” He whispers in your ear, squeezing you lightly. “Can I ask you something?”
“Yeah,” you answer, still looking for the last part among the various bottles, but it’s getting hard to focus with Peter so close to you.
“How mad would you be if I asked to kiss you?” He asks, his voice low.
Your heart beat jumps in your chest. You certainly wouldn’t be mad, but… was he sure? “Peter,” you say, turning around in his arms. “It’s been… years, are you sure?”
“Yes,” he replies instantly. “I’m sure.”
“Then… As long as you don’t mind that there’s several people next door-”
Peter doesn’t have to even think twice before he’s pulling you closer by the waist, his lips hovering over yours. “Are you sure?” He mumbles.
Your eyes find his and you nod, slowly. “Yes,” you whisper back.
The moment his lips found yours, memories upon memories start to flood back. The two of you, sitting side by side on his bed, in your car, in the back hallways at school. You sink deeper into him the longer he kisses you, your hand pulling him down closer by his neck. He pulls back just enough to suck in a breath before he leans back in. He kisses you with a fervor you didn’t know possible, moving you back enough that your back rests on the cabinet doors. Peter pulls back a little, his forehead resting on yours. His hands squeeze your hips, slowly moving them up until he’s holding your cheeks in his hands.
You weren’t done yet, though, tilting your head up to press your lips against his once more. You tangle your hand in his hair, gently pulling. He lets out a breathy groan against your lips, kissing you briefly once more before pulling away to rest his forehead against yours again. His hands drop from your face, finding the same place on your hips as before.
“Hey, [Name], did you- Oh, God-” Ned’s voice rings out and you pull back abruptly. Your cheeks grow warm under Ned’s wide-eyed gaze. “I’m, uh- I’m sorry. I just needed-”
“Don’t,” You start, seeing the last ingredient you need sitting on a far counter instead of in the cabinet. You move from Peter’s arms and grab it, ushering Ned out of the room in the process. “Don’t say a word,” you whisper to him.
Ned nods rapidly, making his way back over to his computer. You set the bottle down next to the others, trying to rid your body of the tingling you’re feeling in the tips of your fingers. Peter walks out of the room and you blush under his gaze, moving back to your original stool.
Thirty minutes pass before everyone is ready. You stand across the counter from suited Peter as they discuss the plan. The Peters would lure the villains to the Statue of Liberty and cure them, the rest of you would stay here and keep the box safe after they threw it back using Ned’s newfound portaling powers. After they were cured, you guys would press the button and hope everything works out.
You’re nervous, probably more so than everyone else. You worry that everything might not go as planned and even if it does, what about you? What happens when the button gets pressed? Would you die?
“Are you alright?” Peter, original Peter, asks, concern written on his face. The rest of the group watches the two of you, similar expressions on their faces.
“I’m worried,” you admit. “I’m worried about the plan and everything going smoothly… but I might die. That’s really worrying me.”
“We’re not gonna let that happen,” he says. “We’ll figure something out, okay?”
You nod, wringing your hands together nervously. “If I… disappear, with everyone else, I want to make sure I said this before.” You look up at Peter, Ned, and MJ tears threatening to pool in your eyes. “I love you guys. Thank you for being the best friends I could ever ask for.”
Peter wastes no time in pulling you into a hug. Ned and MJ join in, too. You’re thrilled at the idea that you get to go back home, see your friends there, but these were your friends, too. Losing them was just as painful as you could ever have imagined.
When you pull back from the hug, tears have finally started to fall. They step back, Ned wiping his eyes as he does so. You turn to suited Peter and hug him, too. His hold on you is tight. “Please be careful,” you say.
Peter presses a kiss to the top of your head, leaning down and kissing you briefly after. “I will be, I promise.” He says back, squeezing you one last time before letting go.
“Well, let’s kick some ass.”
“Cure,” older Peter corrects. “Cure some ass.”
You’re waiting anxiously for the villains to arrive, when suddenly, you hear electricity crackling. “I think the electric guy is here,” You say, trying to see if any of the Peters are coming, ready to catch the box if need be.
“MJ, heads up!” Original Peter calls out, throwing the box into the portal. MJ catches it.
“Alright, Ned, close it.” She says, jumping a little in place.
The portal doesn’t close. “Alright, uh, just keep trying,” you say, looking around the lab for a weapon if you need one. You come up with nothing and Ned is still struggling to close it.
“It’s fine! Just keep trying,” MJ says.
You peek into the portal, your blood running cold. “Guys, there’s-”
“That is a lizard!” MJ shouts and all of you start to run. The lizard is right on your tail as he chases you around the tables and you have no choice but to run through the portal. Ned opens up another portal as you guys run past, effectively slowing him down with a gush of water. This aids in Peter catching him and being able to use the cure on him.
Ned tries to open another portal. Instead of a safe place, Doctor Strange appears, stepping out and immediately taking the box from MJ. “Where is he?”
You try to grab the box as MJ does, but neither of you are quick enough. “Wait, wait, wait!” MJ says.
“Before you do anything Mister– Doctor Strange, sir, Peter’s plan is working!” Ned yells.
“Pressing that button might kill me!” You add, panic setting in your body. “Please, just wait-”
“What plan? Kill you?” Strange asks, looking between the three of you.
“He’s curing them,” Ned explains.
Dr. Strange approaches the edge of the scaffolding and peers over, seeing that Dr. Connors is no longer a lizard.
“Did you just open a portal?” He asks Ned, who nods, before portaling away himself.
“Guys,” you say shakily, your entire body trembling. “If he presses that button-”
“Can Spider-Man come out to play?” A voice says and you see multiple green lights in the distance, rapidly approaching.
“Oh, God.” You whisper, your body tensing anxiously. You can’t hear or see anything that’s happening, until you hear an explosion. You watch as the spell expands and races across the sky, disappearing into the clouds. You’re barely able to comprehend that the unstable spell escaped before you hear the loud noise of metal crunching.
The scaffolding you’re standing on tilts. You’re falling. You attempt to grab something, but your hand slips.
“[Name]!” Ned shouts, but his voice echoes in your ears.
The wind whips around you as you fall. You know you’re falling fast, you have to be, but everything is slow. Original Peter jumps after you, nearly grabbing your extended hand, until the Goblin knocks him out of the way.
It feels like a nightmare. It feels like your nightmare. Falling, falling, falling - but this time, there’s no shadow chasing you. You squeeze your eyes shut, not wanting to see how close you are to dying. The ground is rapidly approaching, you know it. You’re terrified. All of the work everyone did to try and fix everything feels meaningless as you plummet to the concrete below. Shouts reverberate in your ears and you can’t discern who’s yelling. Your ears are ringing.
Suddenly, someone is touching you - their arms wrap around you protectively. You hit the ground in their arms with a thud, vibrations shooting up your body as you hit the ground. You slowly open your eyes, one eye at a time and you stare straight up from where you fell. It seems so far up now from your place on the ground, but you’re not dead. The rest of the scaffolding is falling, the giant shield is falling, too.
You look to who caught you and all oxygen escapes your lungs. It’s Peter, the Peter that carried the burden of not saving you before, the Peter who loved you. “Holy shit,” you manage.
He’s crying. He’s crying so hard as he drops to his knees, continuing to hold you bridal style. Peter buries his face in the crook of your neck. “You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,” he mumbles over and over, reassuring himself and you that he caught you. You are okay, he saved you.
“Holy shit, Peter,” you repeat, gripping onto him as tears burn your eyes. You’re crying because you lived, you’re crying because he caught you, you’re crying because this is how it was supposed to be. “You have to go help,” you say as he lifts his head. “I’m okay, I need to check on MJ and Ned.”
“Okay,” he says softly. Peter presses a kiss to your forehead and helps you get your footing, shooting his web and swinging to the base of the statue to find original Peter.
You run around the rubble littering the ground. “MJ! Ned!” You call.
“[Name]!” MJ shouts back, running up and hugging you tightly.
Ned runs up, hugging you tightly, too. “You’re okay!”
“He-He caught me. I thought, holy fuck.” You say, your hands still trembling from the adrenaline.
“[Name]! MJ! Ned!” Original Peter calls from below and the three of you rush to the barrier, MJ waving her arms in the air.
“We’re okay!” She shouts back.
You watch in horror as Peter fights the Goblin. He nearly kills him, too, before older Peter stops him.. You’re staring so hard you see the Goblin move. “Watch out!” You yell, but it’s too late. Older Peter gets stabbed. They manage to cure the Goblin, not before the spell gets even more out of the control. The sky is starting to split in places, revealing a purple gash with several white figures within it. “Oh no.”
Original Peter heads up to Strange, who’s perched at the very top of the statue’s torch. You turn to MJ and Ned. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
“Everything’s gonna be okay,” Ned assures you, placing a hand on your shoulder.
You wait there for what seems like forever before original Peter finally lands in front of you. The three of you rush to hug him. He checks to make sure you’re all okay, too.
“So, we should go, right?” MJ asks. “Figure out what to do about…”
“I’m sorry,” Peter says, a contrite look on his face. “We can’t help [Name].”
Your heart rate picks up. “What?”
“The-The spell, we can’t contain it and… you guys are going to forget who I am.” He explains.
“What?” Ned asks.
“Forget who you are? What are you talking about?” MJ adds.
“It’s okay,” Peter reassures. “I’ll come find you and I’ll explain everything. It’ll be like none of this ever happened.”
“What if that doesn’t work?” MJ protests. “What if we can’t remember you? I don’t wanna do that.”
“I know, MJ, I know.”
“We can’t come up with a plan or something?” MJ asks, she’s getting desperate.
“There’s nothing we can do,” Peter says sorrowfully.
Peter hugs you first, so tightly you think he might kill you if he squeezes any harder. You return the hug. “I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry,” He says to you.
“It’s alright, we tried, right?” You respond as he pulls away. “Peter, please don’t think whatever happens to me is your fault. You tried, we all tried, I’m not angry.” The look on his face tells you he doesn’t believe you. “I got to see my Peter again. I got to meet you and Ned and MJ. Whatever happens, I’ll be alright.”
Peter finally nods. “Okay,” he whispers.
You hug Ned and MJ separately. “I love you, all three of you.” You say, looking between them. “If I somehow find a way to contact you, I will, I promise.”
You want to let them say their goodbyes, so you step away and down the stairs, rushing to get to the other Peters quickly. You know you don’t have much time.
Suited Peter, your Peter meets you in the middle, though, pulling you close. “[Name].” He says, his voice trembling. “I don’t know what’s going to happen. If you don’t come with, if-if you..”
“Peter, it’ll be okay.” You say and somehow, you believe it. “If curing them, making them better changes their fate? Then my fate will certainly change, too.”
He hugs you tighter. “I love you, [Name], I love you so much. No matter what.”
Your heart swells. You open your mouth to reply when all of your body starts to tingle. It feels like pins and needles all over. You pull back and notice you're almost transparent. Peter is, too. You watch as he reaches for you. It’s the last thing you see before everything turns to black.
You gasp loudly as you sit up, feeling around to grab something. You’re blind with panic until your Dad bursts into the room. “Hey, hey, [Name], are you alright?”
You stop, turning to face the doorway. You’re still breathing heavily when you make eye contact with your Dad, who’s looking at you with concern. “What happened?”
“You must have had a nightmare.” He says, walking over to feel your forehead. You feel his hand touch your cool forehead. “I have to go to work, are you alright?”
“Yeah…” You manage, pushing your hair out of your face after he removes your hand. “Must have been. I’m okay.”
“If you’re going to hang out with Peter, shoot me a text, I’ll make an extra plate of dinner.” He says, moving back towards the door.
“Peter?” You ask incredulously.
“Yeah, your boyfriend?” Your Dad answers, holding the door knob. “You said he was probably coming over tonight. Just give me a heads up, alright?”
You nod slowly as he closes the door behind him. You shakily press two fingers to your wrist after he leaves, feeling the delicate pulse under your fingertips. You’re alive, you changed your fate, and clearly, Peter was still in your life.
You scrambled to find your phone that was buried in your bedsheets. You finally find it and try to unlock it, but your password isn’t working. You can see that you have several messages from Peter, but you can’t see them. “Shit,” you mumble, looking around your room for a jacket, jeans and pair of shoes. It’s your old room, you know that, but you have no idea where anything is. It seems like… someone lived here. Maybe it placed you in a universe where Peter did catch you and you took your own place.
You finally find a pair of jeans, taking off your sleeping pants and pulling them on. You grab a jacket off the back of your desk chair, heading out into the kitchen. This was your old house for sure, everything’s familiar. The coffee pot is in the same place, your shoes, everything. Except for the walls - the paint is a darker blue than you remember it being. You try to shrug it off, pulling on your shoes and heading outside. You don’t really know where you’re going to go.
You decide to check places Peter might be and you want to start with the cemetery. If you’re alive here, then your tombstone would be missing, and Peter might have gone there to check. You rush past the people on the sidewalk, apologizing as you nudge them to move around them.
The cemetery is nearly empty when you arrive, save for one person standing in the far corner, staring down at a tombstone. You read the various headstones as you pass, looking for any names you recognize. As you’re getting closer, you realize the person is taller than you thought. You don’t want to startle them, so you try to make your steps louder. They’re not paying attention though and as you approach, you hear their voice. “[Name], call me back when you get this. Your headstone is missing and May asked about you before I left. I think everything worked. Please call me.” He sighs, ending the call and pocketing his phone.
You can’t help the wide grin that spreads across your face. “Peter,” you call, just loud enough that he can hear you.
Peter whips around so fast you can barely register it before he’s rushing at you, hugging you so hard it knocks the both of you to the ground. The grass is damp from rain and you can feel it soaking into your jacket but you can’t find it in you to care. “[Name], fuck!” He says, laughing happily and pressing kisses to your cheek repeatedly.
You giggle, gently trying to push him away so you can stand but he isn’t budging, kissing you lightly all over your face. “Peter, the ground is wet.”
“Don’t care,” He replies, finally kissing you on the lips. You sink into the kiss, pressing back with the same amount of force as he is. Peter pulls away after a few moments, smiling down at you like you’re the best thing that he’s ever laid his eyes on. Honestly, you might as well be. He helps you stand, chuckling at the various blotches of mud on your jacket and jeans. “Oops.”
“I just got here and you’re already ruining my clothes?” You joke, wrapping your arms around his neck so you can look at him just a little longer.
“You’re here and you’re alive and you remember,” he says, a smile on his face.
“It’s still coming back to me,” you admit. “But that’s better than nothing.”
You unlock the door of your apartment, closing it behind you and toeing your shoes off by the doormat. You hear noises coming from the kitchen as you shrug your jacket off. “Peter?” You call, setting your jacket on the coat rack near your front door.
“In the kitchen,” Peter responds.
You turn the corner, finding Peter standing in your kitchen, wearing your apron that is entirely too small on his frame. You raise your eyebrows, walking over to him and peeking into the bowl he was mixing ingredients in. “What are you making?”
Peter ignores your question, turning his head and kissing you briefly. “How was your day?”
“Fine,” you answer. “No Spidey tonight?”
“Nope,” he says, walking over to the fridge to grab an egg. “I’m clearly very busy being a chef.”
You chuckle. “I should get you your own apron at this rate.”
“Maybe so,” He replies, transferring the mix in the bowl to a separate bowl.
“Is that supposed to be a cake?” You inquire, trying to dip your finger in the mixture to taste it. He moves it out of your reach before you can.
“You’ll find out.” Peter grins, opening the oven and checking the pan on the upper shelf. He takes off the apron after closing the oven, folding it and setting it on the back of a dining chair.
“Well, if it is a cake, you’d be a baker. Not a chef,” you point out.
“Same thing.”
Peter cuts you off by grabbing you by the waist and pulling you closer to him. “I’m gonna need you to go in the bedroom and stay there until I say.”
You look up at him and tilt your head. “You don’t need help?”
“Not at all. I’ve got it under control, my love.” He smiles, kissing your nose affectionately.
“Alright, fine.” You say, moving back and grabbing your phone from your bag. “I’ll be impatiently waiting.”
You close the door behind you, flopping down onto the bed on Peter’s side. You bury your face in his pillow, taking in his familiar scent. You smile in content, pulling your phone out to browse social media while you wait. You find a couple articles on Spider-Man and his recent qualms with basic crime, but nothing too crazy.
After about an hour, Peter calls for you. You get up and walk into the kitchen to find a stack of pancakes, a plate of eggs, a plate of sausage and bacon, and several topping choices for the pancakes sitting on the table. “I should have guessed,” you say, smiling at him.
“It is nearly a tradition, after all.” Peter responds. “Go on, sit, sit.”
You sit down in the chair across from where he usually sits, going to grab the tongs before he stops you.
“Let me. Close your eyes,” He says from beside you, taking the hand he grabbed and pressing a kiss to it before letting go. You oblige, closing your eyes. You hear him moving around for a moment before he stops. “Alright, open them.” His voice is a bit shaky.
You’re about to ask him what’s wrong, but when you open your eyes, you figure out why. There’s a plate of pancakes and bacon in front of you, but written on the pancakes in frosting is: Marry me?
Peter is beside you, already down on one knee, a small box with a ring inside of it in his hands.
“Peter…” You whisper, your eyes already welling up with tears.
“[Name], my love, I really never thought I was going to be able to do this. I was so, so happy when I met you originally and I wanted to do this after we graduated college. I wanted to be with you forever,” He sniffs, trying to avoid crying too hard. It was an emotional topic for the both of you. “You meant so much to me that when you… I could never forgive myself for losing you. So when your friends said your name, my heart broke. It was hard to even hear your name and I never would have thought it would really be you.”
You’re really crying now, tears rolling down your cheeks as he speaks.
“This last year of being able to be with you again, really be with you, has been amazing. Moving in with you, being able to wake up next to you… I wouldn’t trade it for the world. We used to joke all the time that I’d write it on a cake or something, but cakes remind me of birthdays. This is way more important than any birthday. [Name], will you marry me?”
You’re nodding before he even finishes. “Yes, oh my God, yes.”
He grins, full of so much happiness as he stands, pulling you up with him. He easily slips the ring onto your finger. Peter sniffs again, smiling, before he kisses you with all the passion he can manage.
You kiss back with just as much eagerness, a warm feeling spreading over your body. You finally feel complete, standing here with him, knowing that it’ll be the two of you against the world.
3K notes · View notes
reidshearts · 2 months
lover boy - peter parker oneshot
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If you went back four years you would have never believed you'd be dating your childhood best friend. I mean of course you had a giant crush Peter but you were too scared of the rejection you somehow were convinced was going to be the outcome.
Yet here you are years later curled up beneath the sheets of his bed pulling the covers higher to try and gain some warmth from the cold winter air blowing outside the closed windows. Your eyes moved around the room to find a way that would distract yourself from the coldness and decided to focus them on your boyfriend who lazed in his desk chair, back hunched over the table attempting to sew up the cuts in his spiderman suit from his last outing.
"Fuck", the boy cursed as he pricked himself with the sewing needle again, lifting his thumb to his lips.
"Pete, i love you but please come to bed and you seriously can't sew for shit" you tried to convince him as you lifted yourself up to lean your back on the headboard of his bed. This was the hundredth time the boy (or ‘man’ as tried to convince you many times before ) had repeated the small action and cursed somehow creating a new profanity each time while wiping his hands on his tank top. And despite finding his toned arms attractive, you knew you had to get up early the next morning.
He childishly stuck his tongue out at you for the comment but reluctantly left the suit and sewing kit on his desk, "fine, but promise me you'll help me with it tomorrow?" Peter replied, and you nodded your head whilst admiring him with a loving look.
"Anything for you lover boy", was all you could say before the words got stuck in your throat as Peter stretched his arms above his head from being sat down for too long and a blush arose on your cheeks as his tank top slid up so his toned torso was on display. You swiftly looked away and focused on your hands that rested in your lap twisting around the silver band with a spider imprinted into the metal, a birthday present from Peter last year.
The spider-boy caught your glances and smiled to himself and shook his head at your innocent blushing. Briefly sticking his head out the door to shout out a goodnight to his aunt May who was awake watching her favourite show downstairs in the lounge, and he then switched off his desk light to join you under the covers.
You both laid down and got into your comfortable positions: your legs tangled together with your head on his chest while his arms were wrapped around your waist lifting you to lay on him. This was the only way either of you could fall asleep and Peter often climbed through your window late at night hoping you'd let him in and help him get to sleep.
"Goodnight m'love", he mumbled to you while placing two kisses upon your forehead and cheek.
"Night petey", you whispered as you both drifted to sleep wishing each other peaceful dreams.
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rowniebow · 3 months
and they were roommates | peter parker x male!reader | 5/7
summary: friends. just friends. only friends. best friends.
pairings: tasm!peter parker x male!reader
cw: mentions of 18+ content, but nothing detailed is described. cursing, uh oh! [internalized] homophobia? alcohol mention
word count: 3k+
an: hi i decided on being an annoying author and not taking chances to expand on important character and plot points in this chapter, and instead went with focusing on character development. stay safe in this weather, and happy holidays
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peter parker had a friend.
after years of keeping coworkers at arms length and avoiding their personal questions.
after years of acting oblivious to pretty girls on the street (who he really didn't feel anything towards anyways).
after years of only talking to may about anything, which she was getting tired of, too ("peter, go to a bar or something! i want grand-babies, too, you know?" to which he would just lie and say he had plenty of friends).
peter parker finally had a friend. he opened up. he let someone in.
and he was glad.
he certainly wasn't at first. after going to sleep the morning you and him had talked, peter slept to the sound of a nightmare. a nightmare of you falling and coming to a similar fate of her.
when he woke, he sat in his room for hours, pretending to be asleep to you. he debated and went over in his head many different ways to play this whole thing off. i mean, that would be best for you, right?
he came to the conclusion that he should move out. he prepared a whole speech for you about how he didn't want to live here anymore, and especially not with you.
so leaving his room at two in the afternoon with tears in his eyes, he kept his brown soaking pools trained on the ground. he was about to ruin a good thing, but it was best for you (is what he struggled to keep telling himself).
peter's door slowly creaked open and he stepped his way out into the living room, head hanging low with disappointment. disappointment of the situation, or himself, or his decision? a little bit of all of it.
"hey, y/n," he began, rubbing his neck with disdain. "can i talk to you about something?"
his voice rang out and bounced against the walls. the sounds of his syllables came bouncing back and hit him in the head with full force.
regret washed over him the second the words came back to him. and finally, the pain of losing something good being too much to bare, he looked up. his chest felt as if it were going to swell bigger and bigger until it burst and the pressure was unimaginable pain.
his eyes scanned the clean, nearly spotless, apartment. the couch sat empty, and so did the island seats.
and the building pressure in his chest fell to his stomach instead
you weren't even here.
frustration suddenly rose in him. how did you have the nerve to leave? how did you have the nerve to leave while he was pretending to be asleep in his room so you probably didn't want to wake him up and it's not like you were aware he had a big thing he wanted to tell you - but you should have been!
peter fell in to the couch, the dizzy feeling of relief filling his head.
honestly? thank god.
peter was very glad he had a friend, but he very much was not at first.
while you were out doing whatever it was you were doing, peter sat on the couch, rocking back and forth, anxious for the conversation he had planned in his head.
so when the door burst open, and you tumbled in with your hands full of groceries - far too many for you to carry on your own, the bag handles reaching up past your elbows on your arms so that you could get them all by yourself - peter jumped to his feet and the anxiety smacking his head around faded away.
"shit-!" you silently cursed. you quietly shushed the door as it banged against wall.
when you finally looked up and saw peter standing in the living room, watching you, you dropped all the bags, uncaring at the noise you were making.
"hi! good morning. i thought you'd still be asleep."
"did you go shopping?"
"did i-? yeah, i got food and stuff."
"and stuff?"
"is 'stuff' cookies and chocolate?"
"yes, and i got enough to share for once,"
"oh, good."
peter rushed over to help as you began to haphazardly throw the things you bought into the fridge and cabinets without rule. normally, peter would have commented on it, nitpicking at your lack of care regarding where things went in the kitchen (even though he didn't really care, either, it was just an excuse to talk to you). today, though, he hardly noticed it, and reflected your behaviors as you talked.
"why were you up so early?"
"i couldn't sleep,"
"how come?"
"i've been having sleeping issues the last couple nights, i don't know why."
"you don't know why?"
"i guess it's hot."
"you're hot at night?"
"yeah, but it's okay. it's winter anyway, and i know you like it warm."
"no, no, we can turn it down."
"i can really just open a window-,"
"no, then you'll get a cold. we can turn it down."
"are you sure?"
peter shrugged and sent a tired smile towards you. "the heating bill will be cheaper, anyway."
"okay," you smiled over your shoulder back at him, but quickly looked back to continue emptying the grocery bag you were working through. "thank you."
peter forgot all about his idea of moving out.
peter forgot all about his attempted effort to remove you from his life.
instead, peter hoped you'd stay in his life for a very, very long time.
peter parker had a friend.
suddenly, he had someone he could come home to and talk about his life with. the entirety of it. not just the normal parts of it with may. and not just the normal parts of it with you.
he could suddenly talk about everything.
and he did. he told you about every little detail of his life, both as spider-man and peter parker.
he went through the motions of his high-profile evil scientist and ex-best friend trope and the death of her, and you listened even though you knew a lot about it from the news when it happened all those years ago.
what you mostly listened to was how peter described himself and his thought process throughout all of his endeavors, tragic and all. you found yourself becoming absolutely obsessed with his brain and the way he thought about the world.
how he still worked hard every day to try and find goodness in the world despite all the bad he dealt with all day.
and as you told peter your own tragic backstory, he thought the same about you. how, even despite all the cruelness you've experienced from people, people who were supposed to be loving towards you like your own mother, you still went in to every interaction assuming the best intentions.
"how am i going to be happy if i convince myself that everyone i talk to is just going to be cruel, or that every experience will leave me upset? i think that leaves a lot of life out of reach. i'll miss out on all the good if i'm trying to miss the bad."
peter went to bed thinking about that. with her on his mind, and now with you loudly occupying his mind (compared to the way you quietly did, before) he considered your words greatly.
he had to three major revolutions while he tossed and turned that night, listening to you nod your head to the music in your headphones while you struggled to sleep yourself in the other room.
one. no, he really shouldn't make decisions for you.
he really should not just decide to distance himself because he's spider-man and he doesn't think it's safe. he's seen first hand how frustrated that can make people.
two. it really would be best for you to not know him like this.
yes, it's really, really nice to have someone to talk to about his nightly endeavors. yes, he's happy it is you and no one else. yes, it's thanks to his stupid carelessness about hiding it on one night that you two became so close over the last three months (inseparable to an unhealthy degree).
but, are you going to get hurt in the end? no. he wouldn't let that happen again.
and three. how much life is going to be out of reach to him if he only worries about avoiding the bad?
more specifically, how much of life with you was he going to miss out on? he already let eight months go by. eight months of pettiness and disdain. all because he did like you from the very start and he was frustrated that he knew he wasn't going to be able to enjoy you and being close with you fully because he was so obsessed with hiding a huge part of himself.
he lost, what could have been, eight months of pure bliss with you because of his efforts to 'miss the bad'. he truly didn't want to lose any more of the joys he was experiencing with you now.
and he most certainly would not let you come to the same fate as her.
over the five months that you and peter had become friends, many new habits were built.
you didn't hide your waiting up for him anymore. peter made sure never to tell you that he knew you did before, though.
instead, you spent your time waiting for him on the couch in the living room, watching a movie. or in your favorite chair, reading a book.
"hey, how was it tonight?"
"you know, you would think in the city that never sleeps there'd be more crime than this on monday nights, but there hardly ever is."
often, if he came in just quiet enough not to wake you and you were asleep on the couch, the man would plop down near your feet and get comfortable on his own.
you would wake the next morning and see him slumped over on the other end with one of the throw blankets bunched up over himself. you, the early riser of the duo, would take the blanket you were using and cover him up, then run out to buy coffee for the two of you so that he'd have something warm when he woke.
you also picked up skills that a nurse would have to know. or an emt. or a fire fighter. or all the above.
"god, pete, you can't be taunting people with guns." you said as you removed a bullet from his shoulder. his healing abilities that you still didn't really understand (but you didn't want to ask for a fifth time so you kept your ignorance hidden) already pushing the bullet out on their own.
"and you shouldn't be taunting the man with spider powers but you still do it every damn day!"
"as long as you don't run at me-,"
peter moved close to you suddenly, "boo!"
you fell back with a yell as he chuckled at your protests.
peter officially wouldn't let you do the laundry at night anymore. not alone at least.
"do you really need to be in the suit for this?"
"what if someone tries to rob you again?"
"i think you and i can scare him off without the web guy just fine."
"hey, the suit adds an intimidation factor, okay?"
however, your favorite habit was when one of you two came home from anything (work, spider-man-ing, outings with coworkers), the other would peak their head around the corner, say hi, and you two would just talk.
you decided that nothing was better than talking to peter parker. your newly best friend.
"do you remember jared?"
"who? no, jared from my work."
"is he the guy that donated a lot to the music program?"
"yeah, okay. what did he teach again?"
"right, right,"
"yeah, he asked me out tomorrow night."
"o-on a date?"
"yeah, i think i'm going to go."
peter felt his eyebrows furrow together. "you don't even like science."
"that doesn't mean he isn't nice, right? science lovers can be nice."
"high school science teachers are not nice."
"you love science, you're nice."
peter stuttered at your comment, "he probably only donated to get your attention."
you paused, debating peter's words. "is that so bad?"
"uh, yeah?"
"i think he likes music, and he cares about students."
"no, this-this isn't a good idea, y/n."
"why not? it's just one date, pete."
"where's he taking you?"
"i think just a bar,"
"no! that's so unsafe,"
"how-? peter, why are you being like this, i can take care of myself!"
"you shouldn't go to a bar on a date alone!"
"what the fuck else am i supposed to do, bring a friend?"
peter only looked at you in silence, proving his expectation.
"jesus christ, parker, i am not bringing a friend with me."
"i don't get why you want to go out on a date with jared!' peter spat his name with venom in every letter
"you don't even know jared, don't say his name like you do!"
"it doesn't matter if i know him or not, he likes science and you hate science."
"you literally went to midtown science high-,"
"that- stop bringing me into this!"
"peter, come on, it's just one date. i'm practically just doing it to be nice."
"do you think he's cute?"
"you heard me! do you think he is cute?"
"he-he's attractive,"
"jesus christ."
"why does that upset you? you should be happy and supportive of me finding someone i'm interested in!"
"i will be happy and supportive when you find someone who's worth your time."
"oh my god, you're impossible. i'm going out with him."
when you got home after your date the next night, you didn't want to talk to peter. you knew it was inevitable, especially since you two had given each other the silent treatment in suspense of this very moment.
so when you saw his little head of hair peak around the corner, you felt the tears that you had been fighting the entire walk home punch at your waterline.
"how was jared?" peter spat the name again, a glare on his face and his arms crossed. if you were in a better mood you might have commented on how he was wearing a hoodie of yours and that he had to pay for the next laundry because of that.
instead, you turned your head away from peter, not wanting him to see your pained expression. he heard the little sniff and watched your teeth clamp down on your bottom lip, though.
his expression immediately fell. he'd never once seen you cry before.
"what, what, what? what happened?" peter rushed to your side, threw a hand around your back to lead you to the couch. you continued to cover your face with your hand, bite your lip, and keep your face away from peter best you could.
"does spider-man need to go find him?" peter asked after sitting you down on the couch. the sobs that were pushing against your throat escaped in a laugh instead at peter's question.
"no, of course not," you shook your head at his silliness. despite peter having been very serious about the question, the sight of your pained smile still managed to pull one from deep inside of him.
"what happened, hon?"
"he- it's really not that big of a deal. you were right, you should take the win."
"no, it's not a win if your upset. talk to me, what happened?" peter sat crouched before you. an extremely small but extremely comforting smile played at his lips, and the kindness in his eyes practically pulled the information from out of you.
"he just-he just wanted to hook up. i told him i don't do hook-ups and he got really upset and-and started calling me names, and threw his drink at me. everyone was looking, i'm just- so embarrassed! he has a wife, too! how did i not know about his wife, peter?"
your cheeks and ears burned from embarrassment. you didn't know how you managed get caught up in such a situation. peter finally noticed after your story how badly you reeked of alcohol and how your soaked shirt was the culprit.
"you were right! i'm-i'm sorry i argued with you, you were right."
peter only looked at you with worried eyes. he examined your lack of eye contact and the way you curled into yourself under his gaze. the grimace that covered your features and the tears that poked at your eyes. he didn't want to take the 'i told you so' moment this time.
after a moment, he grabbed your hands, standing up. "come on," his soft words tugged you up, leading you to the bathroom. he turned on the shower and pulled at the ends of your shirt. you obliged and removed your shirt, but the embarrassment never left your face.
he took it from you, balling it up in his hands. he watched your arms rub themselves in an attempt to hide yourself from his sorry eyes.
he's also never seen you with your shirt off before, he's realizing.
"i'm sorry i argued with you, too. i- um, i-i don't know why i got so upset," (he very well does know why) "i'll make some hot chocolate, okay? you'll feel better after a shower."
neither of you wanted to look at the other: you from embarrassment, him from nerves.
he turned away, planning to lay out some clothes on your bed for you while you were showering.
"thank you, peter,"
peter lingered at the doorway, not completely sure how to respond.
"spider-man will be seeing him, i hope you know that."
and peter left the room and closed the door to the sound of your breathy laughs and protests. a small smile graced his lips at the sound of your small joys.
peter was well aware of why he was so upset.
that man could not stand the idea of you dating someone.
anyone other than him.
that night, peter went to bed with a new found fear.
the fear of messing everything up with his new best friend of five months, and roommate of over a year.
the fear of messing everything up with his stupid fucking feelings.
the fear of losing you, not just as spider-man, but as peter parker, too.
⭒ next ⭒
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rancidpancakebatter · 6 months
In the Name of Good | Prt 2 -[P.P.]
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Pairings: Dark!Yandere!Peter Parker x Female!Reader
Summary: The cat's out of the bag, so how do you proceed?
Word Count: 5.2k words
Content: MINORS DNI: 18+
Swearing, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of emesis, Smut, Oral (f and m receiving), P in V sex, choking, multiple orgasms, Daddy Kink
( Part 1 | Masterlist )
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A/N: The long-awaited sequel which is really just porn with a plot. I'm not sure if this will be a complete story but I may update it every now and then.
Peter's darkness is much more subtle in this piece so there are no major warnings this time around.
Happy Holloween you whores <3
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The early light creeps through your window, the golden rays kissing your skin. You stretch your fingers toward the carnelian beams and let your fingers dance in the sundust. You bask in the peace of the morning. As the sun rises it brings a new dawn, a new day. Who knew what you would do today? You could do anything. Today felt like a shopping day. It seems nice out and you could feel stress sitting in your bones, a deep ache pulling at your muscles. 
You stretch before opening your blinds. That’s odd, you don’t remember closing them. You look at the house across the street. Peter’s car sits in front of the house; if you squint your eyes, you can see him through the window. He sits perched in his desk chair, twirling a pencil as he examines a piece of paper. 
Something felt…off about this morning. It was something you couldn’t quite place but this morning brought a certain uneasiness. It was something you hoped a hot shower could fix. 
You let the steam ease your tired bones as you soaked in the eucalyptus sent. As you scrubbed your brain spiralled. What had happened? Why couldn’t you remember? Your brain felt fuzzy as flashes of intangible moments congested your mind.
You had been afraid. You remember the nausea that accompanied it. The knocked-over bottles on the sink were all too real to ignore. Peter was there. Had you been afraid of him? No! You shook your head trying to fling that thought to the farthest corner, somewhere it couldn’t hurt you again. Along with thoughts of dog tags, of headphones, of a twisted smile warped by shadows. 
Peter was here. Or rather you were there, with him, in his room. It was dark. Flashes of white cloud your mind. Harsh lines against the wall, you could feel them on your skin. As if somehow a part of you, intertwined with your being. 
You wiped the fog from the mirror and felt that familiar feeling of dread. It wasn’t a nightmare. Peter had…hurt people. He had killed them. And he- he hurt you. Purple stars on your shoulder, constellations woven into your skin to tell a tale of horror. You traced the bruises in abhorrence, the pads of his fingers left behind as a warning. 
You fell to the floor as everything washed over you once again. The chilled ceramic did nothing to soothe you. Like Eve, you had been brought to your knees by the tree of knowledge. Was it worth it? Every question you had ever had, answered by a cracked doorway that you carelessly ploughed through. You had tasted the flesh of the apple against your lips and now it was too late to go back. 
You paced your room as your mind reeled. Peter was a murderer. You should then turn him in. You knew, you had the evidence, you should turn him in. But would that be enough? Would it be enough to stop him? Would it be enough to absolve you?
As much as you hated to think about it, you already knew. You had recognised there was a darkness in Peter even when you were children. The way his reactions almost seemed rehearsed. The way he wouldn’t bat an eye at someone else’s misfortune. But you had labelled it as bravery. The way he would blindly charge into danger if you were in harm's way. The way he would run to May’s aid, big or small. The way he would clean your bumps and scrapes with nothing but a smile on his face. 
You looked at the pictures that adorned your bedroom wall. Peter had insisted on helping you hang them up. He had given you two stacks of photos one day in the warm July heat. You sat in your room between fans and your open window ushering in the humid breeze. Peter’s presence was a comfort then, as you looked through memories frozen in time. 
Now as you looked around all you saw was him. What was once a comforting remark now haunted you as you gazed into his empty eyes. “This way I can watch over you. I can always be here. I can always see you.” 
I can always see you. You felt suffocated under his dead gaze. There was nowhere you could go, nowhere you could hide. He was everywhere. 
You moved to open the window, hoping some fresh air would help. The light of the sun cradled you in a blanket of warmth. The chirping birds sing in melodies and harmonies alike as they skate through the sky. You close your eyes focusing instead on everything else. 
Peter watches in wonder as you absorb the world around you. He had been trying to give you space. He knew you would come around, he just had to give it some time. Let you wrestle with this for a bit before catching you in his arms. He knows that you would never leave him. He knew it was only a matter of time before you would call him or knock on his door. He just had to wait. He could do that. 
He sat camera faced at you, watching as your fingers pulled out the braid he had carefully crafted for you. He watched as you paced your room, hugging yourself close. He watched as you stared at the wall, tracing the shape of his face with a shaky hand. He watched as you went to the window, ripping it open and gasping for air. 
He joined you there, a street away. Your eyes were closed and your hair billowed in the wind as you drank in the sunlight. You were what ancient poets wrote of. You were his Ithica. His rock, his home, his love, his life. And you were so beautiful. 
You raised your head, opening your eyes, only to find Peter staring right at you. You felt a swirling of emotions in your gut. You were looking at pure evil, someone who killed to kill, someone who liked to kill. You were looking at someone who a few hours ago had no qualms about killing you. 
Your stare was expressionless, something that perplexed Peter. You usually wore your heart on your sleeve and every thought on your brow. But now, as he looked into your eyes, he couldn’t tell what you were thinking. He didn’t appreciate being out of the know. You had suddenly become an unknown variable in an equation he knew quite well. 
You tried to look at him objectively. You took in the way the sun seemed to melt into his skin, leaving stark shadows by the bulb of his nose and under the cut of his jaw. If someone told you that he had been carved from marble at the hands of Michelangelo, you would believe them. He was well-defined, every muscle and bone clear in the rays of the sun, but there was a softness to his edges that made him look feathered, almost holy. 
You had never stared Peter down before. He was seeing in you a boldness that he had yet to experience. He wasn’t sure if it was something he liked. You held a certain coldness that he was unfamiliar with. How odd. 
Peter tilted his head and you mindlessly mimicked it. You were attempting to break him down to a microscopic level, to judge his very molecules. Peter was dark but was he evil? This is what you were trying to solve. As you stared at him you thought back to every moment you had shared, tearing each memory to shreds, looking for anything that would tell you Peter was bad. 
You came up with a lot of ambitious greys. He had killed someone, several someones, but some of those murders were somewhat justifiable. He had killed pets. That was not good but better than killing people. He had been fascinated with the macabre but that made him fantastic to watch horror movies with. He had been cold to others but always showed you great kindness. He could display tremendous violence but you had only seen it in your defence. A vicious knight in shining armour coming to rescue you with bared teeth and bloody knuckles. 
You pulled away from the window leaving it open as you made your way down the stairs. Peter watched in curiosity as you marched your way across the street, not sparing him a single glance. He heard your determined steps and opened his door to you. 
You wrapped your arms around his waist, burying your head in his shirt. You couldn’t separate Peter from his actions. To lose any of him would be to lose him all. Your nails dug into his back as you blinked back tears. No. You were not going to lose him. Not today, not ever. Your Peter. 
“Aw, little lamb. What’s wrong?” He pulled you closer as you shook your head. How could you put it into words? How could you tell him that he was every boogeyman you feared but also the only solace from this waking nightmare? 
You pulled away with tears of anger. He looked at you confused and everything spilt over. You banged your hand against his chest. 
How could he? 
You brought your hand down again. 
He did this
And again.
You did this
And again
He did it for you
And again
And you let him
And again
For years
And again
You let him
You raised your fist another time, not nearly close to done, but Peter grabbed your wrist, stopping you. You struggled against him but his hold was strong, too strong to fight. Your wave of anger passed and left you with true exhaustion. You collapsed against him, small whimpers falling from your lips. 
He held you to his chest as you continued to cry. You focused on the beating of his heart, his hand tracing shapes on your back, his breath on your shoulder, the sweet cooing in your ear. This was Peter. This was the boy you loved. The one holding you and telling you everything was going to be okay. 
It wasn’t enough. You needed more. More of his gentle touches and reassuring words. You needed to feel him, to know he was real and here. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he caught your legs as you jumped. 
“It’s okay, little lamb, I gotcha.” And you believed him. He always had you. He always made it better. If you were with Peter everything would be okay. You buried your head into the crook of his neck, inhaling the woodsy smell of pine and cedar. It still wasn’t enough. You pulled yourself closer, your hands now in his hair and legs trapping him in a vice grip. You squeezed and squeezed, knowing he could take it. You just needed more. 
You felt a hand on your head and another wrapped around your back. It seemed like he was trying to reciprocate and the thought brought you a sliver of serenity. He moved to the bed, sitting you down on his lap and continued to pet your hair. All too soon he was breaking away and you couldn’t help the cry you let out. His hands found your face, lifting it to meet his gaze. 
“Little lamb, I can’t help you if you don't tell me what’s wrong.” The knot in his brows seemed real, as did the way he tensed his jaw. 
“I- I can’t-” You gulped helplessly for air but it felt as though someone had poked a hole in your lung. “I-You can’t- You can’t leave me!” 
You were gripping wildly at his shirt, trying to bring him closer, but his hold on your face kept you far away. He brought his lips to your forehead and everything stopped. For just a moment the clouds had parted and your mind cleared, but then he broke away and the fear swallowed you whole. 
In an act of delirium, you moved a hand from his shoulder to his neck. You felt the small goose bumps under the pads of your fingers, the drum of his steady pulse under your palm. It soothed you. You moved your hand lower, stretching his neckline as you reached for his pec, his heart. 
“Hey, hey, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” His hand on your wrist stopped you once again and you wanted to scream. His touch brought back that semblance of peace and in the quiet of your mind, you were able to piece together what you needed. 
Your eyes were filled with desperation, for what Peter couldn’t tell. He wanted to fix it. He could hear your heart thrumming, the small thing fluttering in your chest. 
“Please I…” Your mouth felt dry and your tongue heavy. “I need to feel you.” 
Peter froze. His mind was picking your words apart, dissecting each syllable. He thought he would explode. He looked over your frame, your heavy breathing and shaky hands. This is it. This is what he’s been waiting for. You would fall in love with him today. He was determined. 
He let go of your hands, placing his own on your waist. “Do whatever you need.”
You reached for his shirt and he helped you get it off. Your fingers traced the muscle and scars. He was so pretty. You needed more, more contact. You moved to take off your shirt and Peter watched in awe as you revealed yourself to him. 
You wrapped yourself around him, hands tracing the planes of his back, massaging the muscle under your palms. Peter’s hands were running up and down your back in comforting circles. 
His fingers began toying with the clasp of your bra listening for your reaction. He noticed the way your heart beat faster and your breath caught in your throat. He slipped the annoying fabric off your shoulders and gathered all the strength he had. You were on his lap, pressed against him. All of his late-night fantasies were coming to fruition and he had to stop himself from pinning you to the bed and fucking you like an animal. He had to be slow, and careful. 
You pulled yourself closer, head buried in his neck as your nose played with his pulse point. Peter trailed his shaking hands to your ass, squeezing it. You let out a soft moan and Peter could scream. He could feel you against him. He could pick up on the small pulse in your clit, the new warmth in your core against his waist. 
He trailed his hand down further, rubbing at your thigh, and you whined again. His fingers found your chin, lifting you to see him eye to eye. His palm flattened against your cheek and you nuzzled into it, lost in the warmth of his touch. Peter’s willpower was hanging by a thread and you were doing very little to keep him strong. 
“Little lamb, do you want me to make you feel better?” His other hand skated a path on the inside of your thigh. “Do you want me to fix it?” 
You nodded your head, the sheer force of it rattling your brain. He was gonna fix it. Peter knew you better than anyone and you knew he would give you what you needed, even if you weren’t sure what that was right now. But Peter would know. He always knew and he always fixed it. 
He brought his lips to yours and you felt the rapture in his touch. His grip on your thigh grounded you in the moment. His lips were dry and cracked, the dead skin threatening to cut you open but god if it didn’t make you feel things. His thumb pulled at your chin, opening your mouth to him. His tongue explored forth and you pushed yours forward trying to meet it. The kiss was awkward and lacking a certain grace but neither of you cared. 
He turned to the side, placing your back on the bed and slotting himself between your legs. You tried to pull him down and he let you guide him. With all of his weight on you, you began to feel a little better. Peter was becoming more and more tangible. 
His hands skated across your ribs then in towards your boobs. You moaned at the feeling of him holding you in his big hands. Peter’s kisses left your face to join his deft fingers. You had never felt like this before, like you were on fire but also like ice was running through your veins. Peter was both dousing the fire and adding petrol to the flames. It was intoxicating. 
He took a nipple in his mouth and worried it with his teeth. He was delighted when he felt you buck underneath him. He marked them as much as he could, while his hands worked on getting your jeans off. He wanted everyone to know they were his. Not Noah’s, not Micheal’s, not Morrissey’s, and certainly not Blake’s. 
No, no, this was all Peter’s. You belonged to him, well before this moment. You were always his. He knew he would make it so, that one day he saw you sitting on the curb. He knew then that you would be his. He spent years instilling this thought in your head. Years of meticulous planning and discreet word choice all leading to this moment. You would be his forever. 
He pulled down your jeans like he had many times before, but this time a new aroma surrounded him. It was all-consuming. Peter’s eyes darkened and you almost didn’t recognise the man in front of you. Without a single warning, he was gripping your thighs, pulling them apart to make space for his face. 
You felt his tongue against the crotch of your panties and it felt like he had shocked you with a twelve-volt battery. You gripped the sheets as he started making out with clothed pussy. His name tumbled from your lips and he had never heard a more sacrosanct sound. It brought him back to the moment. 
He had almost forgotten that you were awake. He didn’t have to be careful, he could indulge in everything you had to offer, and he planned to drown. He ripped your panties, the elastic snapping under his powerful grip. He placed his thumbs on your mound, pulling your lips apart to fully soak in the treasure before him. 
He ran his nose from your quivering hole to your clit, breathing in the aphrodisiac that is you. Your hips bucked again and Peter couldn’t help grinding into the mattress. He ate you out like a starved man at a Golden Coral. 
You couldn’t keep track of where he was. He was sucking on your clit, then thrusting his tongue inside you, then he was in both places at the same time. Your brain was melting in pleasure and Peter could tell you were close. He wasn’t exactly sure how but he just knew and the thought spurred him on more. He brought a finger to your cunt and watched as your toes curled. 
“Petey, I feel, I feel weird” Peter could have came just then. His imagination ran wild at the thought of you never coming before. And he would be the first person, the only person, to make you do so. 
“It’s okay little lamb, you’ll feel better I promise. Just let it go.” He put another finger in you and it hurt, but the way he was pumping them so fast had your mind spinning. He went back to attacking your clit and you felt an unfamiliar snap in your abdomen. It was like you were seeing colour for the first time. You let out a scream as you came and Peter slowly came to a stop. 
You saw him grinning between your legs before he dipped his head down once again. He pinned down your legs to keep you from squirming as his tongue entered you again. You could feel the muscle as it scrapped against your walls. He brought his thumb back to your clit and started running it in a circle. You couldn’t breathe. 
“Pete, Pete, it’s too much.” He just went harder and your back arched. Your hand flew to his hair, tugging on it, trying to pull him away. You felt him grunt into you as it reverberated through you. You felt that feeling in the pit of your gut again and you focused on Peter’s instructions. You felt your legs start to straighten and you were panting, music to Peter’s ears. You came again and Peter wasted no time licking it up. 
You lay there lifeless against his pillows, trying to catch your breath. You felt Peter stand and you turned to watch him slip off his pants. He stood before you, a Grecian god. His hard-on was reaching to his belly button, red and shiny. 
You sat up immediately. You had never seen a penis before, not in person at least. A few years ago Peter had introduced you to porn but it wasn’t really your thing. 
“Look what you did to me little lamb.” Your heart fell through the floor. He grabbed your hand placing it on the shaft. It felt heavy in your palm, and you started stroking it. 
“Does it…hurt?” You had heard guys at school talking about having erections. You had heard them talking about how sometimes it hurt and how cruel these girls were for making them hurt. You didn’t want Peter to hurt. 
“A little bit,” was all he said. You bit your lip, the guilt eating away at you. 
“I want to help. How can I help?” Peter put a hand on your face, his thumb tracing the hallow of your cheek. It then tracked its way to your lip, pulling it from your teeth before quickly replacing it. 
You swirled your tongue around his thumb, sucking it in further. Peter threw his head back in a moan and you stopped. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you!” You were doing this all wrong. You had caused Peter pain and you couldn’t fix it. Why couldn’t you fix him the way he fixed you? Peter only chuckled and you couldn’t understand what was so funny about you being a bad friend. 
“It’s okay little lamb, it didn’t hurt. It felt really nice.” You beamed at him and the pride in your eyes made him feral. 
“Really?” Of course, you were a pleaser. It would only make sense. This new revelation gave him so much more ammo. God, you were too good to be true. It was like he built you in a lab. In a way he kind of had. 
“Yes, you’ve been such a good girl.” You preened at his words. 
“Can you keep being a good girl for me?” You nodded your head and Peter used his thumb to pull your mouth open again. 
“Stick your tongue out for me, yeah just like that, now breath through your nose.” You followed his instructions as he grabbed your hair, bringing you closer and closer to his member. 
It felt heavy on your tongue, and a little tangy too. You wrapped your lips around him, tracing a prominent vein with your tongue. Peter threw his head back again and this time you continued. After a bit you felt his hand pull on your hair, pulling you away from his cock before slamming it back down. You choked around him and he kept you there, his other hand rubbing your cheek. 
“There you go, there you go. You gotta breathe through your nose. Just relax, yeah. You’re doing so good for me little lamb.” You focused on his words, trying to follow his instruction. He moved your head back and forward again falling into a steady rhythm. He was hitting the back of your throat with every thrust, you could feel a sore spot where his tip kept hitting. 
Above you, Peter was a panting mess. He was babbling and you felt proud of yourself for doing that to him. He was singing you praises about how good you felt, the great job that you were doing. He looked down at you and that was his reckoning. You were peering up at him, dick in your mouth and a slobbering mess. He saw the tears running down your cheeks and it took all of his strength to pull you away. 
One day he would fuck that pretty face of yours but he couldn’t now. His goal was to make you fall in love with him. He had to show you how good he was at pleasuring you. He had to show you that he knew what you needed, what you wanted. He had to show you that he was the only person that could do that for you. 
You pulled away with a soft pop and a smile. “Was that good?” 
Peter brought you into a bruising kiss and you could taste the both of you. The blend was intoxicating. “Oh baby, you did so well.” 
He was pushing you back into the bed as a hand moved back down to your core. His fingers moved around in the slick and you purred. 
“Look at you little lamb, I just cleaned you up. Did you like sucking on Daddy’s dick like that, hmm?” You nodded your head, biting your lip in an attempt to lessen your grin. 
His lips found the side of your neck, licking and biting on the supple skin. “Well you did such a good job, I think it’s only fair Daddy pay it forward.” 
You tangled your hands in his hair, running the smooth locks through your fingers. “No, it’s okay. I wanna make you feel good.” 
His fingers found your abused clit and you arched your back into him. “Oh little lamb, It’ll make me feel so much better.” 
He pulled away as you looked at him through heavy eyelids. “Do you promise, Daddy?” 
Peter growled before attacking you. His kiss was heavy making you lose any train of thought. 
“Promise.” You felt a blinding pain in your core. Your nails racked up his back as you grasp for the air he seemed to have pushed out of you. 
“Shh, shh, it’s okay. It’ll feel better in a moment.” He kissed away the tears running down your face, massaging your breast. He began pulling out slowly leaving only his tip, then slammed back into you. The pain was beginning to subside or maybe it was just him working your clit and hitting something in you that made your toes curl. 
He grabbed one of your legs, bringing your ankle to his shoulder, pushing himself deeper. A moan ripped from your throat, as you felt him hit your cervix, over and over. You reached for his face, needing to kiss him. Wanting all of him. You needed to drown in everything Peter Parker could give you. 
His hand found the back of your neck once again. You clung to him as his thumb traced its way down your jugular. He could feel it drumming against his skin, he pushed against it, fascinated by you. You suddenly felt airy, your mind was swimming and your senses were heightened. Peter felt the way you tightened around him and the way your heart picked up. 
He brought his hand to the front of your throat, adjusting his grip, before applying more pressure. You moaned as he continued to piston into you. The coil in your abdomen was moments from snapping, your legs were tensing on their own accord. You were no longer in control, not that you ever were. 
Peter had bewitched you. You weren't sure when but you looked into his eyes and knew that it must have happened. Your vision was getting blurry, with tears or lack of oxygen you weren’t sure. You heard Peter whisper something to you, something you couldn't quite make out past the sound of heavy breathing and skin slapping against skin. Then his fingers released you. The sudden rush of oxygen to your brain made you feel dizzy, your nerves alight. You came with a gasp and Peter didn’t slow down for a single second. 
He continued slamming into you as you lay there limp, unable to do much more. He flipped you over on your face and grabbed your hips, setting them upright. He kissed along your spine before entering you again. You cried out into the pillows, he was so big and so deep inside you. You wondered for a moment if the constant rocking had affected your brain. 
He was using your body and you didn’t hate it. He gave you all the praise you could hope for and you got to sit there and take it. It seemed like a great arrangement. Your fingers gripped the sheets, clawing at them desperately. There was a certain element of pain present but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when he felt this amazing. 
“God, you feel so good. Better than ever before.” You let yourself drown in the words he was saying, in the feeling he was bringing you. He was fixing it. Just like he promised. It wasn’t long until he let out a harsh grunt, pushing himself even farther into you. You felt his dick twitch and a warmth coat your walls. 
When Peter pulled out he noticed you wince. He turned you around to face him and began massaging your body. His firm hands ran past the muscle of your thighs to the fat on your stomach with soothing circles. You looked devastatingly gorgeous like this. Completely wrecked, totally relaxed, entirely pliant. 
You made grabby hands for him and he chuckled as he fell into your embrace. You brought him flush to your sweaty body, running your hands through his chestnut locks. He hummed against you and you couldn’t help the smile pulling at your face. 
“Hey, Peter?” He could sense your anxiety, which is never a good sign. He was so sure his plan had worked.
“Yes, little lamb?” Your fingers stuttered in their ministrations as you fought for the words. 
“I- I was just wondering…” The words died in your throat. Peter moved his head, so he could look into your eyes. 
“Wondering if what?” You closed your eyes, feeling too overwhelmed by his gaze. You thought about what had led you here in the first place. You thought of the revelation you had as you first wrapped your arms around him. To lose any of him would be to lose him all. You couldn’t ask him to stop. He wouldn’t, he couldn’t. You felt terrible. How could you even ask him to do that? How could you be so selfish?
“Uhhh, what are we? Like now? Are we still friends? Are we more?” Peter tilted his head as he pondered your question. 
“Well, what do you want?” You felt all the air leave your body, suddenly replaced entirely with fear. 
“I don’t want you to leave. I want you, forever.” Peter raised himself with his arms, now hovering over your body. The space between you palpable now as he searched your eyes. 
“Then you have me,” He kissed you, it was a promise. 
A Peter Parker promise was a binding contract. He chose his words with such precision, he never said something without resounding contemplation. He pressed his words into your soul, branding you for the rest of your days. 
Tag List: @andrews-lovr @brinaslittlefreak @ilovemoonknight @negasonic-teenage-asshole @preciousbabypeter @princesskittycatofmeowland @rudy-the-winged-wolf @whoreforklitz @liz-allyn and @blooming-violets this sequel is for you. Hope y'all enjoy :))
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