#mcu!peter parker fanfiction

[ichorai]

spiderling ; peter parker.

sequel to particles!

pairing ; peter parker x stark!reader

synopsis ; peter was supposed to find you after strange wiped everyone's memory of him away. instead, you found him.

words ; 2.0k

themes ; angst, mild fluff and comedy

warnings / includes ; lots of feels crammed into this, peter is a flustered mess, reader is an insanely smart kid of tony’s, mentions of may and the rest of the spidey gang :(

main masterlist.

Ever since Peter had asked Strange to wipe the entire world’s memory of him, things had been… uneventful to say the least. He studied, he worked two boring jobs for a low minimum wage, and he visited May’s grave every afternoon. 

There wasn’t much else to do when nobody knew him as Peter Parker. 

Sometimes, he’d go out in his itchy, make-shift spider suit that he’d fashioned with bright fabrics from a corner store that also sold his most favorite orange-flavored popsicles, stopping common crime as the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

Other than that… he slept. He played Crossy Road on his phone—or he’d rewatch the Star Wars movies for the billionth time. 

He thought of his best friends, Ned and MJ. He thought of his brothers, Peter 2 and 3. He thought of his Aunt May, and Happy, who visited her grave almost as frequently as he did. He thought of the closest thing he had to a father figure, Tony Stark. He thought of Mr. Stark’s oldest kid—which he used to refer to as his significant other. 

The love of his life. 

Y/N Stark.

Peter missed you. He missed you more than anything in the entire world. He missed your wide smile and the specific way you’d throw your head back and laugh so hard you’d be grabbing onto his arm, gasping for breath. He missed how you’d press your chest into his back and kiss along his neck while he did his physics homework, quietly mumbling corrections to his calculations when he’d distractedly scribbled down the wrong formula. He missed how Mr. Stark would pull him to the side to give him the ‘Responsible Dad Talk’ just about every time the two of you hung out together, and how you’d have to tell your dad that you could make your own decisions and you didn’t need him to hover over the two of you.

Besides, you used to say with a soft smile, it’s Peter. You know Peter. He’s… he’s Peter. He’d never hurt me, pops.

But he did hurt you. He erased all the memories you had together—he completely wiped himself out of your life.

You loved him—and he had taken that away from you. 

“I love you,” you had whispered into him as you hugged him tight, a tear slipping down the corner of your misty eyes. Peter wrapped his arms around your waist and held you all the closer. “Come back to me, Peter. Or… or I swear to fucking God—I’ll find you myself and—” 

Your words died on your tongue as he surged forward and kissed you, hard and desperate. The kiss tasted of salt from your tears, of coppery blood from his throbbing, split lip. Neither of you cared.

You hiccupped a sob when he reluctantly pulled away, pressing one last kiss to your grimy forehead, before letting you go entirely. He turned before he could see you crumpling into MJ and Ned, who had roped you into a pained embrace, your shoulders trembling with wracking cries. 

That was five months ago. Five months after Strange wiped everybody’s memories of him.

He’d wanted to find you again—he really did. Obviously, you were an extremely busy person, not only being the oldest kid of Tony Stark, but also a genius student, a researcher, the heir of an entire company, and an older sibling to Morgan. But, if he was completely honest, he didn’t really know what to say.

Hey, I’m Peter Parker and I’m in love with you, but I never got the chance to tell you because this wizard that’s sort of a friend of your dad’s erased everyone’s memory of me because the multiverse broke and a bunch of bad guys from other universes slipped into ours because I ruined my friend’s chances of getting into their dream college—

Yeah. That wouldn’t really work out, would it?

So he put it off. 

Put it off for a week, which rolled into two, which became three, which became three months.

All of a sudden, it was summer, and he still hadn’t seen you. 

He made sure to go to the coffee shop MJ worked at, just to see how she and Ned were faring. From what he heard while he eavesdropped—they were doing great at MIT. 

Peter tried his best to keep up with you through those news articles that kept flashing him ads like You Wouldn’t Believe What This Celebrity Looks Like Without Makeup! or Learn All About Steve Rogers’ Exercise Routine! 

There wasn’t much that he could find about you, other than a couple pictures of you with your little sister, Morgan, chowing down on cheeseburgers at McDonald’s. After all, you’d always been a rather private person, which was the one jarring difference between you and your infamously public father. 

Your social medias were, expectedly, all privated. Peter doubted you’d accept his follow request, anyway.

It was an ordinary Tuesday—Peter had a shift at a car garage in a couple hours, which left him quite a bit of time to burn. He had ACDC softly playing in the background—a band that both you and your dad had been completely infatuated with—half a dozen books spread out around him as he multi-tasked studying new chemical compounds for his web fluid, and rotational mechanics for an upcoming exam. 

Then, much to his surprise, the doorbell rang. 

It’s probably the landlord, Peter thought with a grimace, thinking of the old woman who always had a cigarette between her coarse fingers, despite her own strict policy of no smoking in the building. He turned the music down to a low thrum, before swinging the door open.

And… there you were.

Peter could feel his heart drop to the floor.

You were… God, you were beautiful. There wasn’t much about you that changed—you got a new pair of glasses, he could see, and you’d cut your hair shorter. There was a tattoo peeking slightly out of your loose-hanging t-shirt etched over your skin, depicting a sketch of an arc reactor, in memory of your late father. 

Besides that, you were the very same. The same bright, intelligent eyes, the same lips that puckered ever so slightly to the side in thought, and the same brows that knitted together whenever you were concentrating. 

Your hands were shoved into your jeans as you cocked your head, studying him with narrowed eyes.

“Erm,” Peter started, mouth opening and closing as his brain struggled to comprehend that you were here. In the flesh. Fuck, you were gorgeous. “Wh… Y/N?”

Your eyebrow arched high up, closer to your hairline. “First name basis already, huh?”

“I’m—”

“You’re the Spiderling, aren’t you?” you asked abruptly, nearly giving him whiplash. Before he could say anything else, you were swiping your phone open, a hologram of a Youtube video playing right in front of his face. The video displayed Spider-Man swinging from building to building, stopping a car from ramming into an elderly woman crossing the street with nothing but brute strength. Peter didn’t even remember that happening. To him, that was just an ordinary day. “That must’ve been, what—like, thirty-five hundred pounds, about fifty miles an hour? Impressive.”

“Wh—”

You brushed past him into his tiny apartment. Peter cursed himself for not throwing away the pizza boxes stacked on his kitchen counter, and for leaving his sketches of web shooters out on his desk. 

A small smile graced your lips as you spotted the blue and red scrap fabrics discarded into the trash can. “Hm. You make your own suit? My dad did, too. God—are those goggles?” You picked up his vision goggles from his unmade bed, peering through them as you snorted in amusement. “How on earth do you see anything though these?”

“I—”

You turned to him with an intrigued grin. “I’m sure you already know who I am, seeing as you knew my dad. It’s nice to finally meet you, Spiderling.”

Peter blinked. The overwhelming sense of deja vu washed over him like a tidal wave—you were behaving eerily similar to when Mr. Stark had approached him to go to Germany back in 2016.

“I… how…”

“What’s your name?” you asked, gingerly stepping over his textbooks to stare at his pinboard, where his calendar hung. 

“Peter,” he finally mumbled in reply, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. “And it’s Spider-Man, not Spiderling. What are you doing here? I mean, not that I don’t want you here, but, uhm—how did you find me?”

You looked over your shoulder with a knowing glint to your eyes. “I keep tabs on everybody my dad used to work with. Honestly, it wasn't too difficult to track you down—given the radius of where Spider-Man usually frequents and his response times to local crimes, it was easy to pinpoint where you lived. After my AI ran a couple voice recognition tests and estimated bodily proportions, that led me right to you.” You leaned against his rickety wooden desk with a curious grin. “Thought you’d be a bit older, though. Looks like you’re around my age.”

“I… that’s… wow.”

Wrinkling your nose in amusement, you turned back to his full calendar. 

Peter prayed you wouldn’t flip over to your birthday month—he’d circled your birthday with bright red sharpie and drew loopy hearts all over the little square. Thankfully, you stopped skimming through, pausing at the relatively empty weeks where he had nothing planned other than a few work shifts.

“Looks like you’re free from school in a couple weeks,” you said. “I know this is really sudden and very abrupt of me, but—I’d love to offer you a job at Stark Labs. You must be crazy smart to design synthetic webs with a Young’s modulus that’s off the charts. Could really use that brain of yours at my company. Plus, you’ve got a lot of work experience in the bag.” 

There was a beat of silence. Peter stared at you with parted lips. 

A bit more timidly, you added on, “And… it’d be nice to work with someone that knew my dad.”

Well, Peter didn’t want to brag, but he’d definitely say that he didn’t only just know Tony Stark. But you didn’t need to know that right at this moment. 

“Yes,” he blurted out, a bit louder than necessary. “Are you kidding me? That’s… that’s amazing! Yeah, oh my God, I’d love to! Thank you!”

Before he could stop himself, his body moved out of pure muscle memory and excitement, stepping forward to wind his arms around you, squeezing you tightly. Your familiar perfume made his eyes well with tears—fuck, he missed you so fucking much.

“Oh—” you began to say, muscles tensing. “Okay, then. You’re welcome, pal.”

Rouge flushed hotly over his cheeks as he realized that you weren’t his significant other anymore—in your mind, this was the first time the two of you were meeting. Quickly, he let you go, backing away with a grimace. 

“Sorry,” he winced. “Sorry, I just—”

“Have we met before?” you asked, cutting him off. “I don’t know… it just feels like… nevermind. I’d probably remember a cute face like yours.” 

Peter’s face burned an even brighter shade of red. 

“Here’s my contact information. I’ll send you any contracts, NDAs, legality issues, dates for any research projects you might be interested in joining, payment negotiations, all that jazz,” you told him, placing a card onto his desk. “I look forward to working with you, Patrick.”

“Peter,” he corrected.

A smile played with the corner of your lips. “Right. Peter. Nice music taste, by the way. I love ACDC—I can see why my dad liked you so much.” 

With that, you ambled over his scattered belongings on the floor, flashing him one last beam, before striding straight out the door. 

Peter stared at the open doorway for a minute—or was it an hour? He really couldn’t tell. 

He collapsed into his bed, the goggles you’d dangled digging into his back. He arched up just enough to pull it away, clutching it to his chest with a goofy smile.

You found him. 

Against all odds, you’d found him.

Fuck, Peter loved you so much.

Telling you though—now that was a different story entirely. One that Peter knew was going to take time. 

But for you… 

He’d wait centuries.

[stevenssacrab]

Chicken Noodle Soup

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ✧ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ*

Summary: When you're feeling under the weather, Peter saves the day with some classic chicken noodle soup

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Reader is sick

Word Count: 0.7k

a/n: I'm feeling a little sick thus, this baby was born, wish I had a Peter to take care of me.

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ✧ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ*

You felt like shit and probably looked like it, this sickness was kicking your ass, and no amount of medication helped; you just had to let it run its course; you've been tossing and turning in bed, a thin layer of sweat covering your body but you felt like you were freezing to death, your nose red and raw from the constant sneezing and blowing, you lost track of how much aspirins you'd taken for the killer headache you had since you first started getting sick, with the constant pounding everything seemed way too bright, currently sucking on some halls, to soothe the irritation in your throat, your cheeks hollow, you haven't had the energy to eat much, you've lost a few pounds, and it showed in your face.

"Add chicken and let simmer for 10 minutes," Peter repeated to himself; following May's instructions, Peter grabbed the cutting board and rinsed, placing it on the drying rack, opening the cabinet, grabbed a medium-sized bowl, and carefully poured it into the bowl, taste testing it making sure it was perfect. He delicately held the bowl and placed it onto the tray, accompanied by a glass of orange juice and some saltine crackers. He cautiously walked to your bedroom; you were sleeping, your face contorted in discomfort; even in sleep, you couldn't find peace; he quietly placed the tray on your nightstand.

"Y/N, wake up; it's time to eat," Peter whispered and gently shook you awake; you groaned softly and opened your eyes, landing on Peter's sweet face; you smiled lightly; it didn't matter how you felt you were always happy to see Peter, your eyes shifted to the tray and your smile broadened, Peter never failed to impressive you, he had always been so thoughtful and caring, you hadn't asked him to make food in the first place, he came up with it all on his own, it's how you knew his heart is in the right place, you'd kiss him right now if it weren't for your current state.

"What's this?" you asked, smiling brightly at him. You reached for the tray, but Peter beat you to it, lightly placing the tray on your lap, "You made this?" you croaked out; this cold hasn't been easy on your voice and throat.

"I made it for you," Peter smiled bashfully, lifting a spoonful to your mouth; you accepted it happily and groaned loudly. Peter's eyes widened, fearing the worst, but you snatched the spoon out of Peter's hand and spooned more soup into your mouth; groaning again, Peter let out a hardy laugh, watching as you practically inhaled the soup.

"Here, drink some juice," he smiled brightly, handing you the glass; you eagerly grabbed the glass, almost drinking the whole thing in one go. You had no idea you were this hungry, but you felt this soup warm up your soul. It was so good.

"Ahh, man, that's good," you sighed happily, "great job, Pete, it's perfect," you beamed and then returned to inhaling the soup.

"I also brought some medication to help you, some DayQuil and NyQuil, and some Pedialyte," Peter said, pulling a ray of medications out of the little care package he made for you, " I want you to rest. I don't want you to do anything; I'll be here if you need anything, okay?" Peter questioned; you nodded your head.

"When did you make this?" You quizzed, dipping a saltine cracker into the soup; Peter grinned.

"I made it at home with May and heated it up when I got here," he said matter of factly.

'Is all this from scratch?'

"Yes, it's from scratch, down to the noodles," he beamed.

"I had no idea you could cook so well," you say, impressed further. Peter laughs in shock, "Oh no, thank May, she basically made the whole thing; I just added the chicken when I got here and heated it up," Peter says, slightly embarrassed, rubbing his neck sheepishly; you laugh lightly.

"It's okay, Peter. I still love it, and thank Aunt May," you smiled. Peter leaned into your touch, caressing the hand holding him, and kissed the inside of your palm; you smiled bashfully; you grabbed the bowl and drank the rest of the broth, licking your lips, satisfied with your meal.

“Thank you, Pete, it was delicious,” you kissed his forehead; Peter grinned and held your hand.

“Okay, get some rest, baby,” he utters, lifting the tray from your lap and exiting the room; getting one last look in, you shift comfortably in your bed, sighing happily, already feeling ten times better.

[strawberrysodaslut]

𝓶𝓬𝓾 𝓹𝓮𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓴𝓮𝓻

❛ ━━━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫･━━━━━━━━━ ❜

❛ ━━━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫･━━━━━━━━━ ❜

main masterlist

taglist

❛ ━━━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫･━━━━━━━━━ ❜

all of my smut and other nsfw posts are 18+

❛ ━━━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫･━━━━━━━━━ ❜

S E R I E S

nothing here… yet

F I C S

nothing here… yet

D R A B B L E S

nothing here… yet

❛ ━━━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫･━━━━━━━━━ ❜

[shawnxstyles]

panty stealer

DATE: JANUARY 14, 2023

summary: flash forces peter to sneak into the girls sorority and steal a pair of panties as a dare. stumbling into the nearest room to save himself from being caught, he doesn’t expect you to be there, and to let him steal the panties you’re wearing.

request: yes!

words: 5.1k

warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [fingering, oral], praise kink, slight dacryphilia kink, dirty talk, and protected sex), language, alcohol, mentions of weed, and a bit of fluff.

note: frat!peter x sorority!reader / peter masterlist / PART 2

—

“are you serious right now, flash?” peter groans with a pinch to his nose. his eyes screw shut in annoyance at flash’s obnoxious behavior.

“of course i am, penis parker!” flash shouts, shoving peter towards the large, white sorority house. “you have to do the dare or else.”

peter groans again, hating himself for ever agreeing to do this stupid game with flash.

the night had started calm and for once, peter was grateful. friday nights were the craziest day at the frat house, but this week, everyone was a bit too busy with schoolwork. except flash apparently.

like all of his other roomies, peter loves a good party. he doesn’t mind thrashing his house every week if that means he can have fantastic parties at his place (okay, maybe he minds a little bit. it gets tedious cleaning up garbage after a while). he knows he won’t be young forever, so what the heck, right?

people never would have guessed that peter was the leader of the frat. shocking, right? everyone would assume it’s flash for his obnoxious and party boy persona or brad for his attractiveness and charm. but what do those qualities have to do with being a leader? everyone else (besides those two) agreed that peter should be the head of the house because he is responsible and smart, unlike those boneheads.

peter often asked himself if he was attractive and if he had charm.

he did, right?

brad was good with the ladies. one glance and a wink made the girls melt into puddles at his feet. every morning when peter woke up early to go to class, a different woman would waltz down the stairs with a glowing, uncontrollable smile in nothing but a t-shirt. peter knew without a doubt that every one-night stand that stumbled down was brad’s; it was rarely flash or the others and ned had a girlfriend who was in the sorority across from us.

peter hooked-up once in a while. he found it more difficult to be like brad when he had college to concentrate on and lives to save inbetween it all. being spider-man in high school was overwhelming at first because it was impossibly hard to hide it. but now, having more freedom in college made everything a bit simpler. just a bit.

flash being spider-man’s “#1 fan!” still made him chuckle every time it came up.

speaking of flash, when peter stumbled through the door in the evening expecting a chill friday night, flash just had to crank up the energy. as per usual.

“what is this?” multiple bottles of liquor were splurged across the dining table when peter walked into the kitchen. flash crossed his arms with a huge smirk plastered onto his face, while ned looked concerned and stressed.

“i tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t listen to me,” ned shook his head in disappointment before walking away to his room.

“we’re having a party. it’s friday, penis,” flash said with an obvious tone. peter could easily have him removed from the frat, being the leader and all. yet he still keeps him here. why must he do this to himself?

“flash, i said no parties today. everyone is tired and stressed, and has a lot of work to do—”

“stressed? i think that’s the best reason for a party. you need to get laid, my brotha,” brad interrupted with an arm around peter’s shoulders and a firm pat to his buff chest. brad is way taller than peter, which some might think intimidates him. but peter is mainly intimidated by intelligence, and brad had the iq of a stick.

peter rolled his eyes at the predictable statement. flash rambles on about how parties are a tradition on friday nights and peter sharply cuts him off with a strict tone.

“ugh, fine! no party, party-pooper parker. but we will be drinking tonight. or else i’m sending an invite to 50 people.”

—

peter had no choice but to comply. flash, ned, brad, himself, and the other boys are seated on the furniture with the drinks displaced in the center. flash gave peter an ultimatum; play truth or dare or he rings the entire sports program of a party. peter growled and folded.

soon later, there is a sharpie drawing on flash’s ass, a ruler that measured brad’s dick, a flushed ned from downing too many denied truth shots, and laughter bubbling throughout the whole room. peter is the only one who hasn’t gotten asked anything yet and he honestly feels a bit left out. but he also just wants to do his homework and then go to sleep.

“what’ll be, penis parker?” flash inquires with a mischievous look on his face. “truth or dare? or should i say drink or dare?”

peter, not caring at the time, chose dare. “dare.”

“oh, you’re so in for it.”

—

so in all, peter was basically held against his own will to sneak into the girl’s sorority house. even though he denied the dare profusely and took three shots to make up for it, flash still dangled the party invites over his head like an iron weight waiting to drop.

peter snarled as flash nudged him again impatiently. he thought of an idea that might work. peter would have to do this dare, but would he have to do it alone?

“if you come with me, i’ll give you $50 bucks—” peter sells with raised eyebrows. he licks his lips as the cold breeze rustles the trees and sends slight shivers up his arms. the sky is pitch-black as the heavy clouds cover all the stars. peter felt a storm brewing and he really didn’t want to sneak into the sorority soaking wet.

“pfft, parker, please. i have enough money—”

“—in weed.” peter finishes, causing flash to halt his words. peter knows that flash can never find a good supply because he complains about it all the time. marijuana wasn’t legal on campus, let alone in the state. the trade had the cogs turning in flash’s head.

“alright, deal,” flash gives in and elbows peter as a form of agreement. then flash motivates brad and ned to join, heading straight for the zone as a group.

their goal was to grab a pair of underwear and leave without being caught. as spider-man, that should be easy, right?

—

for some odd reason, the back door was unlocked. you’d think girls would be more secure and observant than guys, but maybe they forgot. after hopping over the trimmed gardening hedges, the four boys crept through the door and into the kitchen.

unlike peter’s frat, the sorority girls had two big rules that they made known to everyone; no hook-ups allowed and no frat guys. ever. the girls didn’t throw parties like peter, they only went to them, so their place was like a holy sanctuary.

when the guys tiptoed into the kitchen, peter wasn’t surprised the place was damn-near spotless. most of the interior was pearly white; couches, love-seats, tables, counter, cabinets— it was like walking into an insane asylum with minor color accents.

it was at least midnight by now, so the girls had to be asleep. tiptoeing as silent as possible up the stairs, peter leads until they’re all standing in the middle of the large hallway with rapid, contained breaths. flash, being the scaredy-cat he is, follows last and nervously trips over the final step. he slips, tumbling down multiple levels with nosy thuds and bangs of his elbows and knees. all of the guys sprout wide eyes and strained, silent gestures to warn him to stop falling and making an absurd amount of noise.

peter gets goosebumps, hair rising on his skin as he gets a shiver down his spine. his hearing intensifies, picking up mumbled whispers and light footsteps with his spider sense. his eyes wander frantically as he scatters his brain for an idea. nothing comes to mind fast enough, as a door down the hall creaks open. brad and ned drag flash up the stairs, but freeze when they hear the door. out of instinct, peter sprints to the nearest door, slyly slipping inside. he closes the door gently, contradicting the pounding of his heart, without a noise being made. he releases a sigh as his forehead rests on the doorframe.

“what are you doing?” peter nearly shrieks when you casually question him. he stares at you, eyes impossibly wider than before. your arms are crossed as you sit on the side of your bed. peter swallows harshly, gazing at your appearance.

your legs look smooth and supple, and very much bare. he assumes you have underwear on under the t-shirt you’re sporting, and is proved correct when you shift to dangle your legs off the bed. his eyes are drawn to the small sight of your panties that tease underneath your shirt. you smirk, arms still crossed as you let him check you out.

“i-um-uh,” cheeks wildly red, he swallows and averts his eyes to the ground. how does he explain such a stupid thing without sounding like a jackass? i was dared to invade the sorority house. sorry. oh, also, can i have your panties? “it was a dare.”

“to sneak into my room?” your head tilts as you lift yourself off the bed and stalk towards him. peter’s cheeks grow redder while his heart pounds brutally in his chest.

besides the embarrassment flowing like blood through his veins, you were the simple kind of gorgeous that made his knees weak. the kind that is stunning in their own skin and that radiates beautiful energy like magical fairy dust. and peter nearly fainted when he saw your lack of clothes.

he’s seen you many times before; you share a class with him and came to some of his parties. he never talked to you in fear of rejection, but now he doesn’t really have a choice.

usually, he has more confidence with girls, but this is a very unfortunate situation where he lost every skill he’s ever known. even talking.

“no—” ear-piercing screams interrupt peter’s stuttering from the other side of the door. footsteps run all over the wooden floor as low profanities leave the guys’ mouths. “i think she found them.”

“you think?” you clip with raised eyebrows. peter inhales, losing some of his anxiousness at his thoughts of the boys being caught.

poor ned. betty’s going to kill him.

flash deserved it, though.

brad is probably getting one of their numbers.

peter shakes his head and sets his thoughts straight.

“okay, look. flash dared me to do this… stupid thing and i convinced them all to do it with me. i wanted to do nothing but relax tonight,” peter admits with a stressed exhale. you glare at him with squinted eyes, trying to decipher what has him so worked up. it’s not like he got screamed at and kicked out like the other guys. knowing some of your roomies, they might be a lot worse than just kicking them out. you get closer to him and ponder what he said.

“what was the dare, parker?” you shoot a harsh glare at him, daggers that force him to answer. your head tilts with curiosity as your heartbeats sporadically. you’ve never had a guy in your room before, and for that first guy to be peter parker has your heart bouncing around your chest like a boomerang. you’ve had your eye on peter for a few months now; not crazy obsessive, but you won’t deny the blood-rushing crush you’ve grown for the frat boy.

how did you stumble that low? a frat boy? jeez.

peter can’t be too shocked that you know his name, let alone his last name, but you saying it still causes him to forget some of the words on his tongue. many shouts are heard from outside the door, but your chests are nearly touching as you gaze up at him and then the outside world is practically silenced.

“i had to steal some… panties,” he mumbles, voice low and quiet. why does it sound so dirty?

“panties?” you repeat in a hushed voice as your surprised eyes blink a few times. you swallow, clit beginning to throb at the word out of his mouth.

“yeah,” he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “do you have any that i can…borrow?”

your mind hazes at his question. you tried to remember where your underwear was and if it was clean. but as a clear opportunity lies in front of you, you decide to run with it. you look down with a racing heart, fingers gripping the hem of your shirt.

“i…i have these ones,” you lightly ball up your t-shirt, revealing your laced panties to peter. he quietly coughs, cock starting to harden behind the zipper of his jeans. you glance up at his reddening expression through your eyelashes, devilish eyes hiding behind an innocent facade. confidence and lust ease your anxiety. “will these work?”

“um, yeah,” peter coughs again as rosy embarrassment crawls up his neck and blood rushes to his cock. you strut over to the mattress, rocking your hips teasingly, and peter instinctively follows with his heart in his throat. you lie on your back and spread your legs, arousal dripping from you at every movement. peter watches from a side angle, holding his breath as the tension rises.

“well, you’re not much of a panty-stealer if i just give them to you. come and steal them, parker,” you say with as much confidence as you could muster up. your heart was so loud in your ears you almost couldn’t hear yourself. speechless, peter walks to the front of the bed and kneels down, eye-level with your pussy.

he crumples the shirt over your hips, your legs automatically spreading wider. his senses heighten and pick up on the scent of your arousal. a small patch of it can be seen in the middle of your underwear, sending painful pulses down to his forever hardening cock. his thumbs dance around the laced hem, teasing you to see how much he can go.

he would say some of his confidence is back now.

he hooks his fingers under the band, sliding the flimsy fabric down while sticky arousal slings to you. he stuffs the damp material in his back pocket. both of your hearts rack and hands tremble at the extreme intensity, waiting for someone to do something. anything.

peter decides to be that person and resumes his fingers to your hips where the hem used to be. your folds glisten with pent-up arousal, just begging for him to touch you. your puffy clit throbs, neglected, and your thighs subtly spasm trying to remain open. peter grinds on his molars, nearly moaning at the glorious sight. his rough pads trace your smooth skin as he drags lower, dangerously close to where you’re yearning for him.

“peter,” you whisper, holding your breath, so you don’t move a muscle, even though they’re involuntarily shaking with need. he hums, the dirtiest thoughts flowing through his mind. “d-don’t you have to go? what if you get caught?”

“i can spare a few minutes…” his gaze is hazy and distracted, voice gravelly with lust. you clench desperately around nothing as you quietly plead for him to do something. his thumb tests the waters and finally begins circling on your clit, sending electricity up your body. you yelp at the sudden pressure, naturally grinding your hips for more friction. “hmm? don’t you want me to spend a few minutes with you?

his words are taunting and condescending, making your mind go blurry while the words disintegrate from your tongue. the rough pad of his thumb rubs faster while you clench around nothing again, chest heaving.

“i want more than a few minutes,” you moan as his middle finger pets along your soaking slit, teasing you painfully until your eyes roll back. you can sense the smirk growing on his face based on the satisfied hum he responds with.

“more? greedy girl,” peter slides his middle finger into you without warning causing you to release a long string of moans. “shh, you don’t want them to hear you, do you? then we’ll both get caught.”

you shake your head.

“then be a good girl and be quiet for me,” peter demands softly. you nod shakily, as another finger pumps into you rapidly. he thrusts brutally into you, fingertips brushing over your g-spot. you melt as bliss laces throughout your body.

“it’s always the quiet ones who are the loudest,” a devilish and dirty smirk dances on his lips while your teeth sink painfully into your bottom lip. you slap your palm over your mouth to remain quiet as thrilled moans threaten to pour out of you. your revolving hips are halted by his strong forearm, allowing him to curl his digits deliciously into you. you mewl with screwed eyes, back arching at the immense pleasure.

“i’m so close, peter,” you whisper, scared that if you speak any louder your moans will betray you and alert the whole neighborhood. peter subtly grinds his hips into the front of the mattress, cock dangerously hard from your whimpering and whining.

“can i taste you? been dying to since you opened your legs for me,” peter asks while your thighs tremble and your pussy contracts tightly around his digits. you mumble out a shuddery please before his mouth is devouring you.

he never removes his fingers, pumping ruthlessly while his mouth explores your slippery folds. he sucks harshly on your throbbing clit, a muffled wail escaping through your hand. warm and soothing, his tongue glides curiously and sneaks into your undeniably soft cunt. the moan you release is unholy and way too loud. at least right now.

peter wants nothing more than to hear your sweet, sweet moans crying his name while he makes you come in several different ways. but tonight was not the night. he wasn’t trying to get reported and have intruder as a new notch on his belt.

he had a good feeling you wouldn’t run off and report him though.

the idea of it all got him off much more than he would have ever thought. and looking at you, he could say that same.

his mouth plops off of you, lips swollen and puffy from sucking.

“come all over my tongue. let me taste you, sweet girl,” his tone is euphonious and seductive, yet demanding. his fingers savagely thrust into your seeping hole that clenches tightly around him. your back arches off the mattress as your thighs shake from the upcoming euphoria.

peter’s words send your body into overdrive. your muscles contract and your stomach tightens as your orgasm ripples through your body like a heavenly wave. cum oozes out of you and onto his tongue, slurping up every ounce of your juices until there is nothing left.

“such a good girl,” peter praises while he licks away your arousal from his rosy lips. heat crawls up your neck at your sudden vulnerability. you attempt to close your legs to hide, but he keeps them spread with his rough hands. “you’re going to hide yourself after i just ate you out? we’re just getting started, baby.”

peter pulls his shirt off deliberately, showcasing his bulky abs and muscles that made your clit pulse with desire again. he looks like he was man-made, a real-life sculpture with chiseled muscles and perfectly ridged abs. you were insatiable to this man, who snuck into your room to steal something— you should be mad at him. furious. but when his boxers fall down his legs, only dirty and needy emotions and thoughts are left.

your eyes widen at his impressive length; you’ve only been with a few guys in the past, but none of them were this big. you were scared, yet excited to feel his cock stretch you out sinfully. you imagined how long you would feel him inside of you afterwards, soreness like a good workout at the gym.

“you’re so big,” you mumble, not hiding the fact that you were blatantly eyeing his raging cock with hunger, fear, and lust.

“it’ll fit. don’t worry, doll,” he hovers over you, smoothing your hair away from your worried eyes. “do you have a condom?”

you stretch out your arm into your night stand, blindly grabbing a tin-foiled package. you seductively rip it with your teeth, causing peter to groan in impatience. he snatches it away from you and swiftly slides it onto his sturdy cock.

“such a fucking tease,” he hisses, running the tip of his cock along your folds, which were already soaked in arousal again. “are you ready?”

you nod your head surely, more than ready for him to fill you up.

“you’re one to talk,” you sass, rolling your eyes, which were no longer as worried, but full of needy anticipation. he huffs out a single chuckle, eyes strained on his dick rubbing around your wetness tediously.

“speaking of talking, don’t,” peter thrusts into you savagely, making you gasp and shriek. your hand immediately goes to his shoulder for leverage, nails digging desperately into the meat of his skin. the other tightens securely onto your mouth to keep quiet, even though it’s probably useless now.

hoarse profanities fall from his lips as he shifts around your snug hole. your velvety walls choke his cock so fucking good, he doesn’t think he’ll last any longer. and then you clench even tighter around him, sending peter’s eyes rolling back into brain.

“you’re so fucking tight,” peter groans in your ear, flicking his hips upwards into you. your body trembles in overwhelming pleasure, muffled whines begging to be released.

slapping skin and hushed moans fill the air. peter fits a hand between the two of you and rubs your throbbing clit perfectly. his lips travel down from your ear to your neck, kissing along your skin. his tongue discovers your soft spot, sucking harshly until you’re clutching onto him for dear life.

“you’re so good, peter. so deep, too, oh god,” you can’t help the lusty wail that tumbles from your raspy throat when he rapidly rolls his hips, repeatedly touching your sensitive g-spot. he growls at the praise, every action being intensified by the comment. you notice this and smile with a hint of devilishness behind it.

“you may be smiling now,” peter pants, muscles popping and flexing from the position. “but you’ll be crying soon.”

if possible, his thrusts got harder. and deeper. and faster. he was pounding into your cunt like there was no tomorrow, buckets of arousal leaking from you and all around him. peter would pull his cock fully out just to slam it back in, and it made you wither away into another dimension. his balls beat against you harshly with every brisk thrust of his body. his skilled thumb pets your clit, electrifying all your nerves into blissful flames.

there was so much to feel; the biting of his kisses on your neck, the rough texture of his thumb pad on your clit, the long, thick length plunging barbarically into you, and the heaviness of his weight above you. you were so overwhelmed by the pleasure, water brimmed at your tear ducts. soon, full-blown tears are streaming down your face from the euphoria running through your veins.

that familiar wicked smile curls on peter’s face with your appearance; wild hair, tear-stained cheeks, and swollen lips. he doesn’t think you’ve ever looked so beautiful in front of him.

his cock twitches when you whimper loudly underneath the palm of your hand, begging to let you come. contracting on his shaft, your nails stab his shoulder blade until crescent moon marks appear. a strangled moan leaves him when your body rolls up towards him, back arching harshly.

“need to come. so bad, peter,” you whine. his name from your lips drives him mental.

“fuck, y/n,” he sighs heavily. “come around my cock like the good girl you are.”

with those words, your second orgasm tumbles through your body like a thunderstorm. peter slams his lips against yours to keep you quiet, all your pent-up moans turning into needy hums in your throat. stars spot in your vision and you thought you might pass out from being fucked into oblivion. you wouldn’t even be mad— it was worth it.

summoning all your energy, your muscles tense as the liquid floods out of you. your back arches, making your bare breasts push up against peter’s chest. at the same time, peter comes with a string of curse words against your plush lips. he shoots his load into the condom, balls tightening while his eyes screw shut. he steadies his pumps and slowly pulls out of you, never wanting to leave.

you whimper at the emptiness, already missing his cock. he ties the knot and tosses it into the garbage under your desk. peter slips into his boxers and immediately finds the small box of tissues on your night stand. grabbing a few, he cleans you delicately like an antique doll as if he didn’t just ravish your body and soul.

you were beyond dumbstruck as he wiped you up. the few people you have been with never stayed long enough for aftercare, and even though it should be a necessity, the action still made your heart lurch for peter. speaking of your heart, it was beating a mile a minute. sex was a physical activity, yet having a huge crush on someone felt a lot more physically demanding. but you really liked the feeling.

a million thoughts brisked through your head; how does he feel? does he feel the same? did he hate it? did he love it? you shake your head. if you didn’t stop yourself, you would ruin any chance you might have by overthinking too much.

when you refocus your eyes to the moment, peter has his jeans fully on and his shirt in his hand. he slides it on and then looks at you worryingly, seeming as though you’re still naked and haven’t moved.

“are you okay? did i go too hard? fuck—”

“yes—i mean no! shit,” you stutter after interrupting him and close your eyes in embarrassment. “yes, i’m fine. i’m more than fine. that was… really good, peter. like really good.”

peter’s tensed shoulders relax as his face melts from a concerned expression to a soft one. you slip your large t-shirt on and stand up from your bed. your legs are a bit unbalanced and wobbly, and peter can’t help but chuckle as he holds you steady by your hips.

“stop laughing! you did this!” you whisper-yell with a faked angry face.

“oh, i know. next time, i’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk, let alone stand,” he winks with an arrogant smile cascading his lips. familiar heat creeps up your neck and ears, making you all tingly inside at the idea of a next time with peter.

“next time?” large rings of hope surround your irises as you stare into peter’s. his arrogance slightly fades as he itches with nervousness.

“yeah, if that’s what you want, of course,” why is he holding his breath? why is his heart beating so unhealthy fast?

“if i say yes, does that mean you’re going to try to steal my panties again?” you try to hold back your grin as you joke, peering up at him with squinted eyes.

“are you going to let me steal your panties again?” he clicks his tongue with his all too familiar smirk. he loves your playful demeanor and your attempts to withhold a smile.

you pretend to think, really debating. peter can’t help but stare at you in awe. you were beautiful, and he regrets not approaching you earlier because you were… well, he didn’t really know you yet, but he wouldn’t mind getting to know you better. even if you told him to fuck off and never to see him again, he knew that he would never forget you or this night.

you push yourself closer to peter, chest to chest. you can both feel the rapid beating of your hearts through your shirts. however, you stand, gazing confidently at peter. he watches you as you lean right in like you were going to kiss him.

“mm maybe. you might just have to find out yourself,” your breathy words linger on his lips as you back away and casually get into the bed. you unfold the comforter and tuck yourself in, like you didn’t just give peter a semi-hard on in his pants.

suddenly a loud crash is heard from outside, alerting both of your heads to peer out through the window.

“my car!” flash cries so high-pitched and whiny, he probably woke up the entire neighborhood. peter isn’t surprised that one of the sorority girls destroyed his car because he deserved it. someone needed to humble him anyway. you both laugh behind the palm of your hands at flash’s girly scream.

with that, peter realizes that he has to go and that he no longer has any minutes to spare. flash, brad, and ned probably weren’t worried about peter while they were out-running the girls. but now that the girls had done the damage, the boys would soon realize peter’s absence.

“better hide your panties. this isn’t over,” peter walks over to the side of your bed and kisses your forehead delicately. he cracks open the window, turning to you with half his body out. with a wink from him and a gasp from you, he jumps down the two-story window without hesitation. your heart flutters at his gentle kiss that lingers on your skin, fingers pressed against the spot his lips last touched.

rain begins to splash on the glass as sprinkles of water drip into your room through the open window. you purposefully don’t close it, even when you know the carpet will get soaked throughout the night. you welcomed the idea that if peter wanted to come back, he could, simply by sneaking through the window the same way he left.

so many other thoughts cloud your mind, making you lie wide awake. you wondered if his heart was still thumping hastily like the rain pattering on your window and onto your floor. you wondered what he looked like when he was drenched in natural rain water. probably breathtakingly beautiful; soaking wet hair and a childish smile adorning his rosy face while he laughs wholeheartedly.

as you roll over to turn off your lamp with a wistful sigh, you remember that you never even got his number. while trying to guess which set of numbers fit peter parker the best, you fall asleep with a yearning heart, flapping its wings adoringly in your chest.

oh, god, you were down. and it was bad.

what you didn’t know was that peter was down too, but even worse than you.

—

tags: @raajali3

join taglist

[sacharinee]

hi m!!! what do you think about bf!pete getting his wisdom teeth out? and the reader taking care of him?? hed be so funny lmao xxD

-🧸

pairing: bf!peter parker x reader w/c: 750 a/n: hi anon!! thnk u for requesting i had sm fun writing this! :)

you’re sat at the dentist's office, cooped up in those uncomfortable chairs while you anxiously waited for your boyfriend’s surgery to finish.  

when peter ranted and moaned nonstop over his constant toothache, may decided enough was enough, and took it upon herself to set an appointment for her nephew. he wasn’t too keen on the idea. peter wasn’t afraid of anything ninety-nine percent of the time. dentists, however, wasn’t one of them. 

“can’t you stay here with me?” 

“stay? baby, no they’re gonna be drilling in your teeth.”

“but i-”

“and it’s gonna be bloody and nasty and i don’t wanna have to see all that.”

you turn towards him, only to come face to face with the boy’s horrified look, his eyes are wide and skin pale, mouth open in shock. you cringe at your response.

“but,” you stand, “you’re gonna do amazing, you’re gonna sit here and let the dentist do his magic.” you smile and lean down to plant a sweet kiss on his forehead.

“y/n/n, wait but-” you drop his hand on the way out, “bye, love you baby! be good!”

“y/n!”

two hours later swing by when a woman in navy scrubs comes to get you, announcing that peter is out of surgery. 

you knew that he would be high out of his mind on laughing gas, you just didn’t think it would be this bad. 

when you enter, the dentist is off to the side, looking over charts, packing a care bag for his patient.

peter’s head lulls towards your touch on his shoulder and slowly blinks at your presence. 

“hi baby, how you feeling?” you give him a beaming smile.

your boyfriend does his best to muster the same grin, but the amount of gauze in his mouth makes his rosy cheeks puff out, drool dripping down the corner of his mouth.

peter takes a moment to stare at you, “woaahh” he languidly slurs his words, “you’re so pretty.” 

you giggle at the comment when the boy gasps in horror, “wait, wait, i have a girlfriend, and she’s-” he looks up at you worriedly and slaps his forehead, “i’m in trouble.”

you can’t help but let out a laugh, he’s so dopey. 

your fingers touch the bottom of his chin gently and lift his head, “i’m your girlfriend, silly.” 

a loud gasp escapes peter as his face turns ecstatic, “get out!” you giggle at his reaction, the dentist glances over at you two and offers an admiring smile.

“so do we have sex?”

the awkward silence in the room kills you. 

your face blushes, as you shake your head and clear your throat, “peter, no.”

“no?!” he sighs in disappointment, “aw man.” your boyfriend pouts at the floor, “what have i been doing with my life.”

“oh my god, pete,” when the dentist turns away, you whisper and offer him a shrug, “sometimes we do.”

the delight on his face returns and his eyes go wide, “really?!”

the boy seriously has no filter.

as you’re packing his things, peter pauses and pokes his cheeks, “wait y/n,” he pauses, “my face kinda feels weird.”

you look around and hand him a mirror from the counter, “oh my god…” peter gingerly touches his face as you kneel down at him, “what’s wrong, baby?”

“my face… it’s so fat!” he’s got tears in his eyes and whining with a jutted bottom lip, “y/n,” sniffle. “will-” sniffle. “will you still love me if my face is so fat?” 

you roll your eyes and smile at his antics, “of course, i would.”

he seems pleased with your answer because he’s back to smiling. you go back to packing his things. “hey, mr dentist,” he woozily slurs, the gauze is practically spilling out his mouth, “d’you know i’m spider-man?”

you mentally facepalm at his obliviousness and mutter, “jesus christ.”

you turn to the older man who’s chuckling at his mental state and shrug, “he also thinks he’s luke skywalker from star wars.”

“but i am!-” “okay bug boy, lets go.”

“where we going?”

“home, sweetie.”

he gasps eagerly and raises his eyebrows at you, “to have sex?”

“oh my god.”

soon after the dentist explains and hands you everything he needs to recover, you guide peter to the car. 

he’s extremely dramatic. 

he’s got his hands around your shoulders, dragging himself on the floor, acting like he can’t walk - which he definitely can.

“peter, i know you can walk. c’mon help me out,” you beg.

“no, i can’t" he moans, "carry me,” he demands.

“what? no,”

“why not?”

“because you’re too heavy.”

and he’s crying all over again, “i knew it! you hate me 'cause you think my face is too fat!”

[imkindaschizoidontknow]

Stress reliever

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Summary: Peter Parker needs to relieve some stress 🤷‍♀️ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

W!: harsh language, oral (fem receiving), mature content, MINORS DNI

______________________________________________

Peter storms into her room after school.

“Can I eat you out?” He asks, he looks frustrated and tired, the way he asked that question was hastily, almost like he’d been waiting to ask that question since the moment he woke up. 

“Huh?” She questions, she’s taken aback by his words, especially since he was acting completely normal today in school, what had gotten into him?

“Can I eat you out? Please?” He repeats, he looks at her expectantly and she laughs. “Well I’m not gonna turn down that offer” she chuckles and he throws his bag down on the floor of her room, quickly kicking the door shut as he slides off his shoes. “What’s gotten into you? Why do you wanna, well, you know” she questions. He’s never like this, he normally eats her out before sex. It’s never like this.

“I need to relieve some stress” he slips off his hoodie and throws it on the floor before laying next to her on her bed and placing a kiss to her lips. She smiles into the kiss, her heart racing. He fondles with her breast and her hand finds its way into his hair, tangling itself in the silky brown mess.

His hand moves from her chest and trails its way down to her lower stomach pressing lightly. She gasps as she feels his hand on her heat. “Fuck,” she gasps out and pulls away from the kiss. He sits up and crawls in between her legs pulling off her shorts and pressing his thumb against her clothed clit. She gasps and squeezes her eyes shut. He looks at her as he slides her underwear off. She can’t help but smile and bite her lip as she sees her boyfriend between her legs. She props her legs up on her feet to give him an easier access to her pussy. He snakes his arms under her legs, resting his large hands on her waist before he buries his head in her pussy, licking and sucking her clit, tasting her juices. 

“Fuck!” She covers her mouth with her hands and her hands snake their way into his hair, pushing down on his head lightly. He emerges from her pussy, lightly rubbing her clit with his thumb. “Can you believe Mr. Harrington sent me to the principals office for showing up to his class late?” He says as he rubs her clit gently. “Ah~”

“Even though this was like, my first time showing up to his class late in, what, two fucking months! He’s so fucking selfish-“ he begins to rub her faster “F-fuck! Ah,” “And not only that, we had to have an emergency Decathlon meeting because Abe forgot to send in our paperwork to qualify for the tournament this year!” He slows down rubbing her clit, but he moves his hand down to her hole, “Ah, oh, gosh!” “So now, fucking Cindy and I have to redo all of the goddamn paperwork!” He pushes a finger inside of her “Oh fuck,” “Abe’s a cunt, I hope he dies. He could’ve just told somebody else to do it” “mm~ mmhm” “Like, if you know you have fucking badminton practice the same time you received the email to do the paperwork, then you could’ve just told Harrington that you had badminton! Can you believe that!?” “Mm~ y-yeah baby, unbelievable,” he begins to quicken the pace of his finger inside of her, and she gasps, “Oh! Gosh! Peter!” “Decathlon has me so tired, M’sorry that I don’t hang out with you much anymore because of it,” “N-No, it’s, ah, it’s f-fine” he sticks another finger inside of her, “Oh! And also, and especially this, is what ruined my day even more! I was in line for lunch and I decided to buy a jell-O, because I don’t usually have enough money to buy it, but they raised the price by 3 goddamn dollars!” “Ah! Fuck,” “I know, right! I wanted to cry, I just wanted some fucking jell-O,” “oh gosh! Peter,”

He quickens the pace of the fingers inside of her and buries his head in his pussy, his tongue circling around her clit, “and the lunch lady told me that I was short, but she basically yelled it out for everyone and their mom the hear!” “Fuck! Peter!” “Oh, sorry” he licks her clit quickly as he fingers her pussy. “Oh! Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum!” “Cum for me baby,” he says as he slurps up all of her juices, and he quickens the pace of his fingers inside of her, “Oh! Ah, I’m, I’m cumming!” Her back arches off the bed as he cums, hot liquid oozing out of her and onto his fingers “good girl,” he praises her as he takes slows down the pace of his fingers and stops licking her.

“You’re so pretty when you cum,” he praises her as he watches her chest rise and fall, she asks “fuck, how stressed were you?” And he laughs, “did I make you cum that hard?” “Yes! I can’t feel my legs!” 

“Aw, I’m sorry, honey, I’ll make it up to you” he slips his finger out of her pussy and sucks on them slowly and seductively, as he stares at her, “You’re such a slut!” She says and he laughs, “I can’t help it, you taste so sweet”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I am SO sorry for that ending 😭 I could’ve done that better but hopefully you enjoyed the rest of it

—————————————————————————-

[angelltheninth]

Endurance Test

Pairing: Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, blowjob, edging, cock riding, begging, cock tease, licking, dirty talk, cum shot, sub!Peter Parker, dom!Reader

Word count: 0.7k

Kinktober Day 6: Orgasm Denial

Ao3

A/N: I've really been looking forward to this kinktober fic. Peter is always so cute I just want to tease him and make him squirm.

Peter struggled to keep his hips from jerking upwards, his hands fisting the sheets so tight he almost teared them apart. But what could he do? You didn't restrain him but you still told him not to touch you. Which made it even more difficult for him.

"Easy. Don't twitch too much sweetheart." You mumble against the leaking tip of his cock, your hands fondling his full balls, massaging and squeezing, "You don't want me to choke do you?" You wink just before you take his cock in your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks to make the sucking easier.

"God. No, no but I- Please." He whines, low and almost teary eyed from frustration, "I don't think I can hold it for much longer."

You release his cock with a wet pop, moving your hand up and down, slowly from the bottom and then rolling your palm over the tip, making sure to spread his cum nicely. "Not yet. Just a little longer. Then you can give me every last drop." You make sure to look at him in the eye as your tongue darts out to lick the dripping bead cum flowing down Peter's hard length.

He bites his bottom lip, making it tremble upon release as another needy whimper escapes him.

"Poor thing. You're so hard. It must hurt a lot huh. How about I kiss it better for you." You trail hot, slow, deliberate kisses up and down his dick, making it throb even more when you give him a long lick from his balls all the way to the tip.

"I need to be inside you. I'm feel like I'm gonna explode." Peter pulls at the sheets, his hands needing something to tug, something to hold onto.

"I fully expect you to. And you've been a very good boy for me Peter. I should reward you now shouldn't I?" You run your fingers between your legs, briefly inserting one finger in, letting out a long moan. "Hear that? That's how wet I am for you. Let me show you."

You move and straddle his hips, spreading your lips with your fingers and rubbing his hard, aching cock between your wet pussy lips.

"Think you're ready for me? Hm?" You roll your hips against his cock, making another drop of cum drip onto his abs. He can't even form words anymore, he just nods his head quickly and whimpers out your name.

With a brief kiss on his lips you position yourself on top of him, nudging your opening with the tip once, twice, before you fully sink down on him without warming.

"Oh fuck!" Peter throws his head back, his hands leaving the sheets for your thighs, keeping your pinned against him, your hips fully against him. "You're so warm inside. Feels like my cock's gonna melt. God. Move. Move. Please. I need to come. I need-"

"Soon love, soon." You squeeze your cunt around him, focusing on his tip as you begin to move your hips ups and down, sinking all the way down each time. "Come when I tell you to. All of it. Make sure you give me all of it. Ready darling? Are you ready to give me all you've got?"

"Yes, yes. Anything. Everything. Please met me come. Please!" He starts to babble, his whole body shaking then snapping like a web thread once you nod his way. His hips start driving into you at full force, his cock shooting warm jets of cum deep inside your pussyhole, painting your insides white with his seed.

You're not far behind, especially when he looks so adorable and sexy underneath you. You start milking him with your cunt, intent on getting all of his cum.

"Holy shit." Peter throws his arm over his eyes, his chest rising and falling quickly along with yours. You need to brace yourself on his shoulder to stop yourself from falling over him. "That was intense."

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself." You lean down to give him another kiss, longer than the last one, brushing your tongue against his. "It feels nice to let go of responsibility and control once in a while huh?"

Peter licks his lips and takes a deep breath, "I wouldn't mind doing it more often."

"I was really hoping you'd say that. Try to last even longer next time hm?" You clench around him again, getting another spurt of cum from him in return.

"No promises." He smiles up at you as he pulls you down and moves his head so you can rest on his shoulder comfortably, "But I'll try anything for you baby."

[spider-stark]

INFINITELY YOU

part two // crullers & constants

SUMMARY - In every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to waste–even if you end up not being the person they thought you were.

WARNINGS - 18+, story will contain mentions of blood, broken bones, weapons, suggestive language, and more. I will try to update warnings accordingly for each chapter, but please read at your own discretion

WORD COUNT - 4.2k

// masterlist // series masterlist // send me your thoughts // no way home fan fiction // rewrite

name key: tom!peter = peter // andrew!peter = parker

Peter Pan Donuts is a sacred place. 

Or, rather, it was a sacred place—and walking back into the shop now felt awfully strange. 

Back when you and Peter first started high school, it had become a tradition to end every Friday with one of the renowned pastry shop’s legendary frosted crullers. You considered it a well-deserved reward for surviving another week of more drama than either of you could stomach, thankful that the weekend was finally upon you and that you could finally breathe without inhaling the reek of the unwashed teenage boys that lined the halls of Midtown. 

Peter Pan’s quickly became a haven. A safe place where the two of you could tuck yourselves away at the end of the bar, talking for hours about the teachers you hated and the bullies you hoped would fall from the face of the Earth. There was nothing that you couldn’t talk about, no secrets kept between you and Peter. 

Or, at least, none that mattered. 

But things changed as time passed, as they so often do. 

It started with the inclusion of Ned. You didn’t particularly mind his presence, even if the conversations had begun to shift towards less intimate topics, focusing instead on movies that you all wanted to see or upcoming video games that you would all try to play. 

Then came the inclusion of Mj a few months later, after she landed a job at the shop. That was when everything truly changed—when it was no longer you and Peter tucked away at the bar, but you and Ned, left to pick at your food and watch as Peter leaned across the front counter and talked to Mj over her shift. 

After a few months of testing every donut on the menu with Ned, you stopped going altogether. 

And Peter never even asked why. 

“I was surprised to see you texted me,” you quip as you slid onto the free barstool, “what happened to not wanting me to get involved?” 

Peter exhales sharply through his nose, and even though his eyes are glued to his phone, you can tell that he was already regretting asking you to meet him here. “I already told you that what I want doesn’t matter.” 

And how true that must have been. 

There had been nothing kind about his text to you this morning, although there was nothing inherently rude about it either, you supposed. It was simple—meet me at Peter Pan’s asap, need 2 talk—but you could almost sense the begrudging nature with which he had typed it. And, sitting next to him now, you could almost feel it, too. 

He didn’t want you here, even if he had been the one to invite you, and you couldn’t help but wonder why he had decided to involve you at all—especially so soon. What had changed in a single night? 

Sitting on the barstool to your left, Parker pops his lips. “Well this is fun. I’m not at all uncomfortable right now.” 

You turned towards him, acknowledging just how different he looked in the civilian clothes that he donned in place of his suit—black jeans that certainly looked worse for wear and an old Ramone’s t-shirt that you immediately recognized as yours. Oversized on you, the short sleeves clung rather tightly to his well-muscled arms. Did he seriously go through your stuff?! 

 “Why are you even here?” You ask, perhaps a little sharper than necessary. You weren’t angry that he had gone sifting through the armoire in the spare bedroom, especially since he couldn’t just parade around as Spider-Man all of the time. But he could’ve at least asked. “Shouldn’t one of you be busy patrolling?” 

It was hard to tell if the offense on his face was real or feigned, but you didn’t care much either way. “Peter wanted answers about my world, I wanted food,” he shrugs, gesturing at the crème-filled donut in front of him. “And Peter 2’s handling patrol.” 

Peter 2—you had almost forgotten about him, the version of Peter that hadn’t wanted to come with Ned and Mj to your apartment last night. As far as you could tell when you woke up this morning, he hadn’t shown up in the middle of the night, either—no trace of Parker or anyone else when you had finally stumbled out of your room to get ready after reading the text from Peter. 

You didn’t figure it was really your business where the mystery Peter was, but you were a little surprised to hear that he was still out patrolling. Was he not exhausted?  

“Ametaur move getting crème-filled,” you tell him, ignoring everything he said. “Should’ve gone with the frosted vanilla cruller, it’s way better.” 

“No way,” he gapes, grabbing the half-eaten pastry and shaking it for emphasis as he said, “this is god-tier, alright? No way anything’s topping it.” 

The expression on his face was actually hilarious, his brown doe eyes alight with pure euphoria as he took another bite of the donut. An exaggerated moan slipped his lips, coated with bits of sugar and crème. It was hard not to laugh at him, especially when you knew that was probably his goal—to combat the evident tension between you and Peter. 

Chuckling, you lift your hands in mock defense. “Suit yourself, Parker. But if you ever wanna experience true pleasure, then you know what to order.” 

Parker looks as if he's about to continue his borderline-lustful tangent about the donut, but Peter spoke up instead, his attention snagging on the name you used. 

“Parker?” He echoes in disbelief, letting his phone clatter against the bar. 

Peter’s sudden resurgence to the real world left Parker silent, sinking back against his stool and taking another bite. 

“What?” Your brow arches, your voice laced with incredulity. “Did you really think I’d keep calling him Peter 2? No offense to Ned, but everything about that feels stupid.” 

Peter’s eyes narrow, coupled with a subtle shake of his head that indicates he doesn't care nearly enough to have this conversation right now. 

You didn’t care much either, and so you steered the conversation in a more productive direction. “So what is this grand plan of yours?” You ask with a somewhat sarcastic lilt. “And where do I fit into it?” 

Another huff of breath escaped his nostrils. “We don’t even have a plan. Not yet,” he reluctantly admits. “But I tried talking to Doctor Strange last night, to see if he had some sort of magical spell or something that would let us go back and fix all of this.” 

Your lips press together, nibbling on the skin and pretending you didn’t notice the hidden meaning behind his words. He hadn’t just gone to Doctor Strange to find a way to get rid of the villains now lurking in your world, because if he had, then he wouldn’t have gone specifically seeking out a spell that would let him go back—not just to stop the villains from ever coming here, but to save May, too. 

“Did he?” 

Peter reached for his cup of iced coffee, if only to occupy his now-fidgeting fingers. “No,” he murmurs, the sound of sloshing ice nearly overpowering him as he swirled the cup. “He didn’t.” 

You frown at the tinge of disappointment that snuck through his otherwise even tone, your chest aching. You had to fight against the urge to say I’m sorry, remembering what he had said to you last night—he didn’t want your apologies, nor did he seem to want anyone else's. 

In truth, you weren’t sure what Peter wanted; or what you could do to help him. 

“Well did he have anything useful?” 

He shook his head, lifting the cup to his mouth. “Define useful,” he scoffed, sounding uncharacteristically sharp. He took a sip of his drink, his nose scrunching as soon as the coffee hit his tongue—too bitter. 

Despite the coffee’s pale color that indicated it was more cream than coffee, you weren’t surprised that it was still too strong for him. Peter had never truly developed a taste for coffee, only pursuing a caffeine addiction for the sake of combating the exhaustion that came with being Spider-Man. That didn’t mean he had ever grown to like it though, masking the taste with copious amounts of sugar and syrups. 

“Something that will keep multiversal villains from tearing our world apart?” You venture half-heartedly, guided by pure instinct and muscle memory as you reached over to take his cup from him, snagging a few packs of sugar from the plastic canister on the bar to0. 

“He has a theory,” Peter gives you a tight-lipped smile, born of pure frustration. 

“A theory? And he expects us to save the world with this theory?” You ask, a bit more derisive than you would have been if Doctor Strange were around to hear. 

Peter scoots closer to you, his voice purposefully low. “Do you remember when I told you about him using the Time Stone before Mr. Stark died? To look through all the different outcomes with Thanos?” 

Ripping open the sugar packets and dumping them in his cup, you managed to mask a wince at the mention of Peter’s dead mentor. You only nodded, not trusting your voice to stay steady if you tried for any sort of verbal affirmation. 

“Well… when he did that, he thinks that he might have actually seen through the multiverse—he just didn’t know for sure at the time.” 

Your forehead creased as you popped the lid back onto his cup, sliding it back towards him. Given his advantage of Spidey-sense, he easily caught it before it could slide too far and end up on the floor—which is what would have definitely happened pre-Spider bite. 

“And you don’t consider that to be useful to our current situation?” 

“No. I don’t.” Peter answers firmly. “Because at the center of it all—in every universe the Stone showed him—all he saw was you.” 

You nearly laugh, your lips curving as you rose a brow at him. “Me?” 

Peter gave a nod as he took another sip of his drink. This time, his nose didn’t scrunch. 

“But it’s been almost a year since the Avengers took down Thanos,” you reminded him, your stunned amusement beginning to fade into confusion. “If he saw.. Me, when he used the Stone, then why didn’t he say anything until now?” 

By no means would you consider yourself to be close with New York’s resident Sorcerer, and so you wouldn’t have expected him to come to you with this knowledge. But Peter—he knew Peter, and he knew that you were Peter’s best friend, and so it didn’t make any sense to you why Doctor Strange chose to wait until now to mention what the Stone had shown him. 

Given the aggravated expression Peter wore, it was clear that he was thinking the same. “I don’t know, and trying to get answers out of Doctor Strange that he clearly doesn’t want to give is like pulling teeth.” 

“But what does that mean?” You couldn’t stop yourself from pressing further, concern starting to bubble up inside of you. Regardless of his answer—if he had one—you had a feeling you wouldn’t like it. “I don’t get how I’m at the center of every universe.” 

Peter blew out a breath, his fingers going back to tapping against the sides of his plastic cup. “Alright, so there are probably well-over a hundred thousand different parallel universes, okay? Some of them are probably super similar to ours, and then there are others that are the complete opposite.” 

“O-kay,” you drone, your brows drawing together. You felt the start of a headache coming on as you prepared yourself for the confusing science-talk that was surely about to start pouring out of his mouth. 

Perhaps noticing your pained expression, Peter tries to find a way to simplify whatever explanation he was about to use. “Try and look at it like this,” he started, “think of the multiverse as some giant, cosmic loom, alright? Now imagine that each thread on the loom signifies a person. As the loom weaves all of these different threads together, different decisions get made and different actions are taken—and with every choice, a new thread is spun, branching off and creating a variation of the original tapestry.” 

“So it’s like you and Parker, right?” You interrupt him, rubbing at your temples. “Same thread, different reality?” 

“Exactly! And, technically speaking, that’s how it’s supposed to be. As the loom weaves and alters reality, each thread continuously evolves into something different.” He paused, his fingers finally falling still. “But now imagine that—in the center of all of these branching tapestries—there exists one thread, entirely unbroken and unaltered by this ever-weaving tapestry of existence, okay? A glitch in the cosmic fabric, a constant that’s woven into infinite realities and yet, somehow, remains fundamentally unchanged. How does that work?” 

You couldn’t ignore the sense of dread creeping up your spine, nor could you escape the slight wobble in your voice as you said, “It doesn’t sound like it should.” 

“You’re right, it shouldn’t work.” Peter confirmed, his expression nearly impossible to read. “But according to Doctor Strange, you are that thread. A constant anomaly that defies every potential law of the multiverse.” 

Nausea bubbled in your gut. God, you did not want to deal with this right now! 

“And let me guess,” a bitter laugh follows your words, “that’s as much information as he was willing to give, wasn’t it?” 

“Yep,” Peter pops his lips, leaning back into his stool. His brows raise slightly in a silent I told you so before he says, “Hey, you’re the one that wanted to be involved, right? Now you’re at the center of everything-” 

“I said I wanted to help you,” you correct him sharply. “Not that I wanted to be at the center of Doctor Strange’s weird Time Stones fantasies!” 

He only shrugs, barely acknowledging the dirty look you gave him as he plucks his phone off of the counter, clicking on a notification. “Same thing, isn’t it? Either way, you get what you want.” 

“What I want?” You echoed, your mouth hung open in disbelief. 

“Doctor Strange seems to think that whatever is wrong with you might help us solve all of this. That you might be connected to the multiverse somehow, or that you’re at least immune to it. So yeah, you get what you want. You get to help,” he spat the word out like an insult, too focused on typing something to even notice how rude he sounded. 

If it weren’t for the feeling that stomach acid was about to come crawling up your throat, then you might have taken some time to unpack the bitterness in his tone or be hurt by the claim that something was wrong with you—but you didn’t. Even if you had, you weren’t sure that it would have gotten you anywhere. 

You weren’t stupid. Peter was wielding his insolence like a shield, purposefully trying to hurt you as an effort to keep you at arms length—and, if you had to guess, Mj and Ned were probably receiving the same treatment right now. 

“Well this isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said I wanted to help,” you admitted, one hand going to rest against your cramping stomach. At least the throbbing in your temples had died down… 

Peter only shrugged at you, shoving his phone in his back pocket and rising to his feet. “Too bad,” he told you, offering a smile that most definitely wasn’t genuine. “I’ve gotta go, but make him walk you home, alright? I’ll text you if I hear anything else from Doctor Strange.” 

Parker frowned beside you, and whether it was because Peter was speaking about him like he wasn’t here or because of his attitude in general, you couldn’t tell. 

“Whoa, hold up! You didn’t even tell me what your plan is until you hear from him!” You argue, reaching for his wrist to keep him from walking past you until he answered. 

He pulls his hand back from your grip, but not before your stare snags on the reddish hue that stains his nails—blood. Noticing it only served to make you feel sicker, and to make your concern for Peter grow larger. Was he really still walking around with May’s blood caked under his nails? Has he rested at all since last night? 

“Same plan as always,” he told you, your eyes snapping up to meet his, suddenly noticing how rimmed with exhaustion they were. “Stop the bad guys.” 

He didn’t leave any time for protests or further questions before turning his back to you and heading straight for the exit. When the little bell on the door chimed as he shoved his way back out onto the streets, you couldn’t stop the worried sigh that escaped your lips. 

Peter was an Avenger by every right. He had battled alongside a Norse God and helped take down a literal Titan, and so knew that you shouldn’t have any reason to doubt his capability when it came to taking down whatever villains had crossed into your world. 

But it wasn’t that you doubted his ability to survive against them, or even his ability to stop them—you were worried about whether he could handle the weight of it all. 

The weight of him placing yet another thing on his shoulders. Another villain, another fight, another burden, another chance to lose someone. 

Thinking of that, it suddenly dawned on you that maybe Mj and Ned weren’t getting the same treatment as you. Maybe you were getting the worst of it, if only because now whatever connection you had to the multiverse was just another weight he thought he had to bear, another person he had to worry about protecting. 

Guilt flooded your veins, and even as you tried to remind yourself that you hadn’t caused this, you still couldn’t shake the anxious feeling that it was somehow your fault anyway. 

“Y’know, I get that this probably isn’t the right time for this,” Parker starts. When you look at him, your attention immediately snags on the dozen donuts that he had ordered while you were talking to Peter. “But I think it’s so cool that you guys have magic in your world!” 

He takes another bite of the donut in his hand, powdered sugar falling from his lips as he says, “And these donuts! It’s a tough call, but they might be even better than magic!” 

You didn’t know him well enough to be able to tell if he was intentionally trying to lighten the mood or if it was just incidental, but it worked all the same. Laughter poured from your mouth, and it wasn’t until it died down that he said anything else. 

“Sooo… That was tense, wasn’t it? Like, it wasn’t just me, right?” 

You groan, propping your elbows against the counter and placing your cheeks in your palms. “Was it that noticeable?” 

Parker snorts a laugh, stretching an arm past you to reach for Peter’s abandoned coffee. “Oh, yeah. It’s actually painful to be in a room with you two.” 

His playful tone made it clear that it was just a joke, but it still made you feel bad. You already didn’t like how hostile things felt between you and Peter, even if it was only one-sided, and to know that others felt it too just made it that much worse. 

“Things are just.. Difficult, right now.” You tell him, choosing your words carefully. 

“So it hasn’t always been like that with you guys?” He asks, and the delicate arch of his brow made it seem as though he were shocked by the possibility that things had ever been civil between you and Peter. 

There was a chance that you had misread his expression though, as it was very quickly wiped away once he took a sip of Peter’s half-drank coffee, gagging as soon as it hit his tongue. “Holy shi-” he started coughing, cutting off the vulgarities that threatened to spill out. “How does he drink this?!” Parker yelped as soon as he could take a full breath, looking utterly disgusted as he shoved the cup back across the bar. “It’s literally just liquid sugar!” 

You found it hard to stifle your amusement at his suffering, even as he shot you a teasing scowl for it. “No,” you answer his previous question, trying to ignore his melodramatic display, “believe it or not, things between us actually used to be really… I don’t know—easy, I guess.” 

Parker was still smacking his lips to try and rid himself of the cloying aftertaste. “What changed?” 

In retrospect, you realized that it probably would have been smarter for you to bite your tongue. To offer him some cheap, cop-out excuse rather than tell him the truth. After all, you already had experience in hiding from the truth and it wasn’t like you really knew Parker, and so lying to him shouldn’t have been a hard task. 

Yet, for some reason, you told him the truth anyway. 

“Mj happened.” 

Parker’s brows furrows. “The girl from last night, right?” 

“Yep. That’s the one.” 

“Y’know, I don’t really like her all that much,” his words were spoken like a balm, seeking to ease the dejected look etched upon your face, but tinged with enough playful sarcasm for you to know he didn’t actually mean them. “She threw a bread roll at me. A few of them, actually.” 

It was hard not to laugh at the thought considering that it was such an Mj thing to do. “Sounds about right,” you crack a smile, although you don't feel particularly happy. “She’s always been slow to trust, especially complete strangers.” 

In an odd sort of way, the statement felt like a lie. Not because it actually wasn’t true—because Mj was wary of strangers—but because Parker didn’t quite feel like a stranger in your mind. While last night had been a bit awkward, you now felt like talking to him was effortless, each sentence rolling off your tongue with unnatural ease. 

“But she trusts you?” Parker asks, picking a crumb off another one of the pastries and popping it into his mouth. 

You sucked in a breath. 

“I don’t know,” you answer him, with a bit more honesty than you're comfortable with. “I mean, I know that she used to trust me. But now… I’m not even sure if she likes me anymore.” 

His brow snapped up. “What changed?” 

Suddenly the truth no longer felt so easy, and you found yourself wishing that you could change the subject altogether. You didn’t want to talk about this—especially not with him, some boy that you had known for less than twenty-four hours. 

But you had backed yourself into a corner, and so in an effort to try and satiate whatever interest he had developed in the story you had told, you settled on offering a vague half-truth. 

“She started dating Peter,” you tell him simply, putting effort into looking disinterested. “They got together a few months ago and things just… It just got weird, y’know? It’s always awkward when two of your friends get together, I guess. Creates too much drama.” 

“Yeah, for sure,” Parker hums, agreeing with you. “Especially when you have feelings for him, right?” 

An incomprehensible noise escaped your throat, best categorized as something between a laugh and a cough. Your mouth fell open to try and defend yourself, to try and deny his claim—but he didn’t even give you a chance. 

“Oh c’mon!” Parker groans, grinning when he notices the now rosy complexion of your cheeks. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? I mean, let’s be real here, alright? That whole sugar thing earlier?” He jutted a finger towards Peter’s abandoned iced coffee, “Was a dead giveaway.” 

“You’re insane,” You declare, shaking your head and masking your embarrassment with uncomfortable laughter. “I don’t have feelings for Peter—and even if I did, it wouldn’t matter! Regardless of what it’s done to our friendship, Mj is literally perfect for him and-” 

“I think it’s cute,” he interrupts, a delicate smile gracing his lips. Noticing the way your brows furrow, he elaborated, “How much you care about him. And how much you care about her, too, since you’re so willing to pretend like you don’t like him.” 

“I’m not pretending-” 

Parker jokingly cut his eyes. “Yeah, sureee.” 

Blowing a frustrated breath, you push yourself up from the barstool. “Alright, I think it’s time to go home.” You tell him, far too flustered to try and come up with a good defense to his teasing. “You can take the rest of your donuts to go, Bug-boy.” 

There was a subtle shift in his demeanor as the taunting nickname fell from your lips, and he almost felt as though his heart had stopped dead in his chest. 

“Fine,” Parker yields, rising to his feet and snagging the box of donuts from the bar. “But I really hope that you have your wallet—cause I definitely don’t have a way to pay for these.” He flashed a crooked smile before continuing, “Or we can just run really fast and hope they don’t call the police on us for stealing pastries.” 

“I can’t imagine that robbery would be very good for your reputation as a hero,” you chide sarcastically, your own lips curling into a half-smile, “so I’ll pay—but only if you give me every cruller in that box. Deal?” 

Parker spares a quick glance down at the dozen box of donuts in his hands. Half of them were already gone, but through the small cellophane window he could see that there were three frosted crullers left. “Deal.”

series masterlist

a/n - for those who read IY before the rewrite, you may already be able to note some rather major changes going on lmao. i genuinely can't describe how much i actually enjoy rewriting this story, as i'm finally able to collect my thoughts enough to write the plot the way i originally wanted to.

as always, please leave any feedback, opinions, etc.! any and all comments/reblogs definitely encourage me to write/edit faster! and, if you'd like to be added to the tag list, just let me know!

part three, titled "spitfire", to be released april 15th

[lotus-n-l0ve]

𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐎𝐟 𝐀 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐞𝐞

— Peter Parker x Stark!Female Reader

☯ SYNOPSIS : When Peter's girlfriend pays him a little visit in Midtown High School and meets his long time bully, Flash Thompson.

☯ WARNINGS : Au, stark!reader, Peter is barely present in the fic, cursing.

☯ NOTE FROM LOTUS : Hey guys. I have been having such a bad writer's block that I couldn't write anything for past few weeks. I'm writing this to, hopefully, get over my writer's block.

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 || 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

The red Saleen S7 car, parked outside of Midtown High School, gaining curious glances from the students and passersby. You wait, sitting on the driver's seat, with your phone in your hand. The past week you were out of the country with your father so you had not seen him for the past seven days and barely got to talk to him.

So when you came back today, you wanted to give him a surprise visit. You came here, all confident, but now you were doubting your choices. Maybe you should just wait till school ends?

Fuck it. You are Y/N Stark, girl. Since when do you get nervous?

You checked yourself last time in the back mirror. Perfect as always. You throw yourself a flying kiss and put on your favourite pair of glasses. The car door opens with a click and you get down. It was not long before you were walking down the halls of Midtown High, making everyone stop what they were doing and gawk at you.

You chuckle in your mind. Of course you loved being the centre of attention. You were Tony Stark's daughter after all. Now there's one problem. You don't know exactly where Peter is. You look around the hall before your eyes fall on a boy, sitting with two girl on each side.

Without any second thoughts, you walk up to him, "Hey, do you know where Peter Parker is?"

Flash tore his eyes from the beautiful girls in his arm to the legs standing in front of him. He raised his eyes to your face. His gaze so disgusting that made you want to throw up.

"Talking to me, angel?" Flash stood up, abandoning the girls.

You roll your eyes at his pathetic attempt of flirting. At least he got the angel part right.

"I asked if you know where Peter Parker is." You deadpan.

"Peter Parker? Oh! You mean penis Parker. What do you need with him? I'm sure I can help you way more than he can." Flash wiggled his eyebrows at you, giving you a suggestive look.

You just stared at him, completely unimpressed and now angered. This pathetic flirt has the audacity to call your baby penis— wait a damn minute. Penis Parker? Something clicked in your mind.

"Are you Flash Thompson?" You ask before you could stop yourself.

Surprise flashed on his face before a smug smirk appeared on his face.

"Wow! I know that I'm famous but not much. Damn!" He said, running a hand through his hair.

You giggle at his ignorance as you take off your glasses. Folding it and keeping it safely in your hand bag, you step towards him, closing the distance between you two.

"Listen here you little shit." The smirk on his fell at your words, "If I ever hear from Peter that even got anywhere near him, I'll kidnap you, shave off your head, leave you on a deserted island and post your disgusting nudes all over the internet."

"Wh—"

"Shut up and listen." Flash gulped with fear, his face covered in sweat. The menacing aura around you looked scarier than the monster under his bed.

You say while jabbing on his forehead with your pointer finger, "Don't think of him, don't look at him, don't walk on his direction, don't breathe on his direction. Don't go anywhere around my boyfriend. Got it, you failed experiment of a chimpanzee?"

"Y-yes, I....um, I-I..... I under-understand." He nodded his head vigorously. Anything to get away from you.

"Good." You back away, giving him space to finally breathe in relief. Fuck! He didn't know Peter's girlfriend was this scary.

"Y/N?" The familiar voice of your boyfriend called from behind and your demeanour changed like lizards change colours.

"Hey, Pete." You walk up, giving him a quick kiss, "let's go, you are skipping class today. I missed you."

You linked your arm with him and started dragging him out of the school. Peter complied with you because he did miss you a lot too and skipping one day was not going to do any harm on him.

"I missed you a lot." Peter smiled down at you.

You left the school, leaving behind a embarrassed Flash. After you two left did Flash realised the crowd of students circling around him in the hallway. And they were chuckling while looking down at his pants?

Flash looked, "FUCK!"

His blue jeans were now dark blue, water spread on the floor around him. He had peed in his pants. His face turned red with anger and embarrassment. He should not have fucked with Peter.

FUCK!

© 𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐔𝐒-𝐍-𝐋𝟎𝐕𝐄 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑, 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 — all content rights belongs to LOTUS-N-L0VE. do not plagiarize any works and do not repost or translate onto any other sites.

All the rights and credits of the characters, gifs, songs and pictures used here belongs to their rightful owners.

[darling-im-wonderstruck]

could you write something where peter and reader are having a study date, but peter falls asleep and reader just lets him be/tucks him in?? tysm

don’t want to miss a thing.

synopsis : getting peter to sleep wasn’t going to be as difficult as you’d thought.

pairing : bf!peter parker x reader

wc : 490 +

warnings : none ! super fluffy sleepy!peter is all you need to worry about :) (normal sized text belowww + this is college!peter)

‎‎ masterlist | request | navigation

a/n : hi nonnie !! thank you so so much for this request <3 i actually whipped this one up pretty quickly because of the rush of inspiration your request gave me hehe :) hope you enjoy it !

it was nearly midnight when you started to notice peter’s eyelids practically begging to fall, his head was inching closer and closer to the surface of your desk. which, admittedly, was somewhat adorable. he’d been like this for the past hour, though it was getting progressively worse every passing minute.

you were in your room, catching up on some studies alongside peter. the boy found every single excuse to be with you, and when you said that you didn’t have time (due to your need to study), he came up with the perfect compromise. a study date.

though, by the time he’d come back from patrolling, it was already 10 pm, and naturally, he was exhausted. but you knew peter, therefore, you knew he was going to put up a fight rather than accepting defeat and falling asleep.

“pete, you look like you’re about to pass out.” you say softly, causing him to whip his head to your direction.

“no, no, no, no. i’m wide awake!” he shoots himself up, making you let out a small laugh, causing the tenseness of his body to disappear. your laugh comforted him.

“i think you need some rest. c’mon, this can wait.” you stood up and gestured for him to go to your bed, but he shakes his head.

“‘m okay, really.” his attempt to assure you was failing, given that he was falling asleep as he said that very sentence.

“you’re so cute when you’re tired.” you smile at him, he returned it with a lazy smile and continued to attempt answering a few practice questions on his worksheet.

“you think so?” he has a smug smirk on his face. gosh. you couldn’t help but giggle.

“just tell me when you wanna call it a day, okay?” you say as you sat back down beside him and continued your work. 

“talk to me? tell me about your day, that’ll help keep me up.” he asks, keeping himself focused on his work.

“oh! okay then! well, after class, while you were out, i ended up coming over and talking to may, and she showed me a bunch of your baby photos, which, might i say, were so cute.” peter sat closer to you, and you thought nothing of it as you continued talking.

“mhm…” his responses became increasingly incoherent as you continued talking about what aunt may had told you. he was falling asleep before he began to realize it.

“so then, i asked may- oh, you’re asleep.” your voice starts with its normal volume and you quiet down as you realize.

 oh.

he’d found a comfortable spot on your shoulder as you were talking and slowly began to drift off. you observed a small, barely there smile that he had as he slept. his arms were rested around your waist and his face was buried into the crook of you neck. he was finally relaxed.

you found it increasingly difficult to move at all, in fear of him waking up, so you decided that it’d be good for you to get some rest as well.

you press a soft kiss on his cheek (and you may or may not have taken a quick photo of him for your wallpaper) before resting your head gently on his, but you felt him move ever so slightly, so you lift your head up, and so did he.

all he did was smile at you, and you did the same, right before he rubbed his eyes and rested himself onto your shoulder yet again.

work could wait, this, however, couldn’t.

taglist : (send me an ask to be added hehe !) @live-laugh-lovejoy

a/n : thank you for reading loves !!!! requests are open, as per usual, pls just be patient w me, feel free to reblog as it is very important to support writers &lt;3

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

can you make a peter parker smut where he gets a 89% on his math final and he needs to js take it out on the reader 🤩🤩

A/N: ops, I finished writing this before the clock even struck 6 in the morning... idk how to explain, I have the circadian rhythm of an 80-year-old tbh.

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist 

“Not that I’m complaining,” you panted, lazily running your fingers along the dewy spine of the man sprawled out on top of you, “but what was all of that? Where did it come from?”

Shifting his face on the swell of your tits, parting the heat of your bosom from his cheek, he glanced up at you with weary eyes and reluctantly uttered, “I got a 89% on my math final…”

“89?” you cocked a brow, not taking into account who it was you were talking to, “but that’s such a good grade.”

“Yeah, but not for me and especially not in math,” you detected the heated tears threatening to come to fruition, “I’ve never gotten below a 92, period, but that’s usually in things that I suck at, not math, never math,” his hold on you tightened as he lowered his head back down, staring intensely at the chipped spot on the wall beside your bed. 

Eyes locked on the crown of his head, you helplessly uttered just above a whisper, “I’m sorry Peter. I’m really sorry,” feeling your naked body being to tremble beneath his in empathy, “fuck… I don’t know what to do to make you feel better…”

Feeling the spent hardness, that never quite disappeared, press against your inner thigh with a cautious grind of his hips, he peeked up at you once more and suggested, “round two?” actually withdrawing a faint giggle within you from the heart-breaking smirk on his lips, “just let me fuck you till I forget, even if it just slips away for a second, please, let me have this, let me have you…”

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[ichorai]

particles ; peter parker.

track eight of BROKEN MACHINE.

prequel to spiderling!

pairing ; peter parker x stark!reader (gender neutral), dad!tony x reader

synopsis ; tony gives peter the dreaded 'dad' talk.

words ; 2.8k

themes ; fluff, mild comedy

warnings / includes ; set right at the end of homecoming era & onwards, mild cursing, peter is so endearingly awkward, tony being a good dad :(

a/n ; another part is in the works to be set during the events of infinity war/endgame!

main masterlist.

The Avengers compound was all sleek edges, clean cool-tones, and large floor-to-ceiling windows with not a speck of dust to be seen. It was an intimidating environment, to say the least. What made things worse was Mr. Stark’s hand on his shoulder and the hopeful gleam to his eyes.

The team, he had said. Tony wanted him to join the Avengers.

And with the brand new suit displayed in front of him, too… it was nearly impossible to say no.

Nearly.

When Peter stammered out a polite decline, Tony had looked at him above his lowered sunglasses, incredulous.

“You’re turning me down?” he said, heavy with disbelief. “You better think about this, kid.”

There was a long pause.

“Last chance, yes or no?”

Of course he wanted to say yes—to be in the Avengers, work with Iron Man himself… that was his dream. But he couldn’t. Someone had to look out for the little guy, right? And who better than the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man?

“No,” Peter replied. 

Not at all used to being rejected, Tony struggled for words for a moment, before reluctantly accepting Peter’s decision, masking his disappointment fairly well. He liked the kid, and it wasn’t exactly fun to have him slip through his fingers like this. With a wave of his hand at Happy, he told him that he’d be driven home.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark. Truly,” Peter hastily said, certain that he’d made the right decision.

Preoccupied thinking about what he was going to tell the fifty reporters waiting behind the doors, Tony absentmindedly quipped, “Yes, uh, very well, Mr. Parker.”

Peter left with a proud grin and a skip to his step, nodding when Happy asked him to wait in the car. 

Before he could make his way out, however, a voice stopped him in his tracks.

“That was really ballsy, what you did back there,” you said, observing him with an amused expression, eyes narrowed with curiosity. Peter blinked, recognizing you almost immediately. “Not a lot of people would leave my dad hanging like that.”

With a widened stare, Peter found all the words stuck in his throat. You were much more breathtaking in person, with an intrigued air about you. Though your features took more after your mother, who’d passed away many years ago, Peter noticed that you shared Tony’s smile.

“Uh… yeah,” was all Peter could lamely say.

The subtle beam curving your lips seemed to grow wider. You hummed, soft and lilting, languidly stepping forward with a nod. “Hope to see you around then, Peter.” You took his hand, sliding a folded piece of paper into his palm. “Give me a call if you ever need anything. Or if you just need a friend to talk to, I’m all ears. It’s a private phone—my dad doesn’t know about it. He gets really uptight about me talking to strangers but… you’re not really a stranger, are you? At least, not for long.”

Shocked, Peter could only open and shut his mouth, as if he were a fish out of water. 

“I, uhm… thank you. I’ll definitely, uh, definitely take you up on that offer,” he choked out, nodding emphatically. 

You gave him a warm smile, accompanied by a two-fingered salute, and in turn, he waved goodbye, palms drenched with sweat as he hurriedly backed away to the car before Happy could yell at him. 

Cute, you thought with an amused shake of your head, before making your way back to your dad, who was still muttering under his breath about how he couldn’t believe a fifteen year old had just turned him down.

Your phone number stared at him every day for the next week. The numbers were hastily scribbled down in blue ink, smudged ever so slightly by the crease of the fold during your rush, but you’d taken the time to draw a smiley face right beneath the last digit. It never failed to make Peter smile every time he gave it a glance. 

It took him three days to psyche himself up to even considering calling you, and another three to actually add you to your contacts, his thumb hovering over the call button far too often than he’d like to admit. On the seventh day, Peter pressed with a sharp inhale.

Three rings trilled by.

Peter wondered if you were going to pick up. He wouldn’t really be surprised if you didn’t—you were a busy person, probably, and didn’t have the time to take calls from people like him. 

Another ring. And suddenly, your voice reverberated through. Peter sat up on his bed, spine straightening as if it were an iron rod.

“Hello?”

“Y/N! Hi!” he said, voice abnormally high-pitched. He cleared his throat and nervously added, “It’s Peter. Peter Parker?”

A laugh echoed in his ear. He could picture your humored smile. “Yeah, I remember. It’s nice to hear from you—thought you’d never call.”

“You were waiting?”

“Of course, I was. I wouldn’t have given you my number if I didn’t want you to call.”

Warm relief surged through his veins, accompanied by a flustered coil winding within his abdomen. “Cool, cool… so, uh, I don’t want to be too forward or anything but I think you’re… so cool and uhm—” A pause. Was Peter really asking you out on an impulsive date? “Would you wanna hang out?”

On the other end of the line, you blinked in surprise, not expecting his sudden forwardness. You shifted the phone in your palm. “Right now?” It was a good thing you weren’t busy, having caught up on all your assignments and projects. Besides—you couldn’t remember the last time you properly went out into the city with someone other than Happy, Pepper, or your dad. 

“Uh… if you’re not busy, that is.”

“You know what—sure. Why the hell not?” you replied, grinning.

Peter did a double-take. “Wait—really?”

“Yes, really. I’d love to spend some time with you, Peter.”

Now it was his turn to smile, pink dusting across his cheekbones. “Great. I’ll text you where to meet, then?”

“Sure, Peter.”

After the call ended, you were quick to change into appropriate attire, not wanting to draw too much attention to yourself. You donned a soft grey hoodie and baggy black jeans, slipping out of your room a few minutes later. The location Peter had sent you was a quaint little library not too far from where you lived, within a manageable walking distance. You were glad that you wouldn’t have to ask Happy to drive you, because knowing your godfather, he’d be hovering over Peter like a vulture.

Just as you were about to slip out, your tote bag slung over your shoulder, Tony popped his head out of the living room, quirking a brow.

“Hey, kid,” he cautiously greeted. “Where you goin’?”

You froze with one foot out of the door. “Library,” you answered, trying you best to appear nonchalant.

“Hm. Which library?”

With a frown marring your lips, you crossed your arms. “Jeez, dad, whichever library! I’m sure there’s, like, a dozen in a five-mile radius.”

Mirroring your attitude, Tony mimicked your squared jaw and rolled his eyes. “You know, if you wanted to hang out with that kid Peter, you could’ve just asked.”

A beat of silence. You narrowed your eyes at your dad. “How do you know about that?”

Tony let out a loud guffaw. “What? You don’t think I didn’t know you bought yourself your own phone? Are you forgetting that your pops is Tony Stark himself? God, kid, you were just like me when I was your age.” He paused at that, rethinking what he just said. “Well, actually, I was way worse.”

He strode forward, smoothing his hands down the sleeves of your hoodie and patting your shoulders. It wasn’t often that Tony was overly affectionate with you, but whenever he was, you always appreciated how genuine he would be.

After pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead, he gently nudged you out the door. “Go on. Get! Scat!” He made shooing motions with his hands. “If you don’t get back by sundown, I’ll have Happy hunt you down and kill the kid town executioner style.” At your scowl, Tony was quick to tack on, “Joking! I’m joking.”

“Bye, dad,” you said huffily, though the affection in your tone was unmistakable. With that, you turned to leave, fishing out your phone to text Peter that you were on your way.

“They grow up so fast,” a voice mused from over Tony’s shoulder, welling with emotion. 

He flinched at his friend’s sudden presence, slamming the door shut. “Jesus Christ, Happy, don’t scare me like that!”

The months flew by in a breeze. You and Peter were now exclusively dating—something that he had asked about early on in your relationship, worriedly gnawing at his bottom lip with the harrowing idea of you turning him down. But you’d been nothing but sweet with him, affectionately pressing your nose into his cheek and telling him that you’d love to be official.

You were lounging on his bed, sprawled over his dark blue comforter, which smelled of fresh laundry detergent and something else entirely Peter that you couldn’t get enough off. He was across the narrow room, hunched over his desk as he hurriedly did his physics homework due the very next day. Idly, you fiddled with the web shooters you had swiped from his bedside table, narrowing your eyes at the wrist fixings and the capsules that held his web fluid.

Only a genius could build something like this on his own, you thought fondly. I’m dating a genius.

It seemed that you had said the last bit out loud, because Peter snorted in amusement.

“Yeah, says you,” he scoffed. “You skipped, like, a dozen grades.”

“Half that, actually. Six grades.”

Peter turned to look at you over his shoulder, arching his brows. “Not to mention your dad is literally the Tony Stark.”

With a hum, you slunk off his bed and languidly draped your arms over his shoulder. “Just take the compliment, Peter,” you said as you pressed a fond kiss to a faint freckle on his cheek. Then, you glanced down at the problem he was solving. “Mmh, don’t forget the negative sign. It’s moving against gravity, no?”

“Right.” He hastily corrected the formula, glancing at you appreciatively. “Thanks.”

“No prob, I make the same mistake all the time,” you quipped. “I’ve been making my own suit with the help of my dad—had to study up a lot on rotational mechanics and material physics. It’s been a pain in the ass.”

Brows raising, Peter dropped his pencil and rotated his chair so he was facing you fully, his knees grazing yours. “What? You’re making your own suit?”

“Yeah,” you said with the beginnings of an excited smile tracing your lips. “I mean, I don’t know if I’ll ever become an Avenger like my dad is but… I don’t know. It’s certainly an option.”

A low groan fell from Peter’s throat, and he buried his face in his palms. “You’re telling me we could’ve been in the same team together? Ugh, stop, stop, don’t make me regret turning your dad down.” 

“Oh, no, Pete, I think you made the right choice,” you quickly reassured him, tugging his wrists away from his flushed features. “We’re still young. It’s not fair to put that responsibility on our shoulders as of now.”

The brown of his irises softened. “Yeah. We’re still young,” he echoed, ducking his head to kiss your hand clutching his. “You gotta show me that suit of yours one day, though.”

Both you and Peter were strolling around an art museum, arms linked and permanent smiles plastered over your expressions as you pointed at various paintings and sculptures. It was nearly an hour into the date when your phone began buzzing in your pocket, and you hastily let go of Peter’s arm to fish it out.

“Hello?”

“Hey, bugaroo,” Tony’s drawl came through your phone. “Where are you? I’m bored.”

A lopsided grin hung onto the corner of your lips at his words. “I’m with Peter right now.”

“Hm. You guys are behaving yourselves, I hope. You using protection?”

The grin melted off your face and you scowled. “Dad, what the fuck?”

“Hey, language!” he scolded, before chuckling dryly. “God, I’m turning into Cap. Anyways—what’re you thinking for dinner tonight? Does Chinese sound good? You wanna invite the Spider over, too?”

You glanced at Peter, who was ogling an abstract painting with a tilted head and a puzzled expression. He’d never really understood the point of this art style, but when you’d explained to him that art didn’t need to be understood to be considered art, he had grown much more lenient with his views of the chaotic splotches of paint. A small smile traced the corner of your lips as you watched his features contort with every one of his thoughts. Peter truly wore his heart on a sleeve, for everyone to see.

“Yeah, sounds great,” you said into the phone. “We’ll be home in an hour.”

Dinner consisted of warm soup dumplings and stir-fried noodles in flimsy paper boxes.

“Mm, Mr. Stark, these are delicious. I mean, I know you didn’t cook this or anything but it’s still really good,” Peter said around a mouthful of noodles. “Thanks for, uh, inviting me over. It’s an honor, really.”

“Stop sucking up to my dad, Peter,” you snorted, sipping on some iced tea. “He already likes you.”

One of Tony’s brows raised. “When did I ever say that?” At Peter’s slightly mortified expression, Tony rolled his eyes. “I’m kidding. Jokes, kiddo. Don’t piss yourself.”

“Speaking of piss—I’m goin’ to the powder room. Don’t fight while I’m gone,” you unabashedly said, pushing yourself away from the table. You really were your father’s child, Peter thought, mildly amused.

Tony watched you disappear behind a hallway, before fixing his gaze on Peter. The older man drummed his chopsticks by the edge of the table. 

“Listen, kid, I know we’re already way past the point of this but as a father—you gotta understand that I have to give you the talk.” It was jarring to see Tony genuinely serious for once. Peter straightened himself subconsciously. “If you ever, ever hurt Y/N, I will stick a rocket up your ass and launch you straight to the moon. Do you understand?”

Peter gulped. “Yes, sir. I got it. You can trust me. I, uh, I really do like Y/N.”

“Oh, you do, do you?”

“...Yes? I’m sorry, I’m confused, do you not want me to like them?”

An unsatisfied noise fell from Tony’s lips. “Eh. I mean, would I prefer Y/N never ever date anybody and stay locked in their room forever, wasting away in front of a screen? Absolutely. But if it just had to be someone… I’m glad it’s you.”

Peter blinked in surprise. “Wow, Mr. Stark. That’s… thank you. It’s a huge honor. I promise I’ll take good care of them.”

“Yeah, don’t push it, Pete. You guys are barely a decade old.”

“Am I coming off too strong?” he winced, recoiling into his chair slightly. 

The man across from him gestured to the small space between his pinched fingers. “Just a bit.”

“I’m actually fif—”

“Fifteen. I know. Y/N, too.”

There was another tense moment of silence as Tony scrutinized the young man. 

Finally satisfied, he leaned back in his chair and smiled roguishly. “Phew! Glad that’s over with. In all honesty, if one of you were to hurt the other, it probably wouldn’t be you. I mean, let’s face it, you’re dating my kid, kid.”

Before Peter could respond, you slipped back into the room, your hands propped up on your hips. “Really, dad? Are you trying to scare Peter off?”

Your father gave you a sheepish shrug. “It was worth a shot.”

“I can make my own decisions,” you sternly replied. “You don’t need to hover.”

As you sat back down into the chair beside Tony, he wound an arm over your shoulders. “You know, my dad did the exact opposite of hovering when I was your age. He was always too caught up with work and stuff—barely ever saw the guy. Most birthdays n’ holidays and whatnot, he was never around. I don’t know, I just… I don’t want to be like my dad.”

Your features softened with his admission, and you turned to rope him into a proper hug. 

When you pulled away, Peter nervously cleared his throat. “I, uh, for the record—I don’t think you can ever scare me off. Not even after going to the moon with a rocket up my ass.”

Tony glared at him, though there was a slight smile twitching at the corner of his lips. “Watch it, kid.”

“Sorry.”

[stevenssacrab]

Three More Minutes

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ✧ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ*

Summary: A simple grocery run turns into the most traumatizing night of Peter's life

Rating: 18+ (minors, do not interact)

Warnings: Physical assault, mentions and usage of knife, strong insinuation of rape, stabbing, description of reader actively dying, Peter in utter despair, reader death

Word Count: 1.6k

a/n: This is a sad ones my dudes, I teared up a little writing this, be safe out there :)

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ✧ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ*

"Don't worry, Pete, I'm paying right now," you say calmly to Peter over the phone, inserting your card to pay; you reach for your bags, but the bag is weak and rips from the bottom. All the contents were scattered across the floor, apples rolling every which way.

"Shit, ugh, of course," you curse out loud; you bend down to pick up some apples.

"What happened?" Peter asks in your ear, slightly concerned

"The bag ripped from the bottom," you say; Peter hears the annoyance in your voice and chuckles.

"Ah, I hate when that happens," Peter says apologetically.

"Ugh, the apples are all over the place; oh, thank you," you say softly. You grab the apple from the kind stranger's hand. He suddenly grips your wrist tightly, and you gasp loudly, confusion etched across your features.

"Don't trust a stranger's kindness," he said harshly, spit flying out of his mouth; you wince at his firm grip.

"Let go of me," you say timidly, trying to pull your hands away, but he only holds on tighter, looking at you with wide eyes.

"Y/N? What's happening?" Peter is trying to remain calm, but feeling completely helpless, he should've gone with you.

"I said let go," you say louder; people around you look at the scene unfolding before them, but not a single person moves to help you out of this escalating situation; you look back at the stranger digging their claws into you, letting out an audible "ow." Tears start to fill your eyes; you look around for anyone, just one person to help you, but everyone just watches

"Y/N?!" Peter's panic slipped through his voice. Peter moves to race over to you, but he hears a scuffle and then screams.

"GET OFF ME!" you scream. Security pulled the assailant off you; he kicked and screamed as security dragged him away.

"Hello? Peter?" you ask, your hands shaking violently.

"Yes! I'm here! Are you okay?" he asks, terrified.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I'm just a little shaken up," you say, voice wavering, adrenaline still high, heat beating out of your chest; you try and control your breathing.

"Can you please walk me home?" you ask, trembling. Your eyes scan everywhere, still on edge.

"Of course, baby, I'll be right there," he says compassionately.

"I'm leaving right now; I'll see you in a little bit; just wait for me," he says firmly.

"Okay, Pete," you say, hanging up the phone; you look around the store; everything is just too much; you can hear your blood flowing in your ears, and the lights are so bright you can barely open your eyes. You try to stand, and your knees buckle, but you manage to stand. You decide that you can't stay here any longer. You walk one step at a time, gripping the walls for support; you feel your knees will give out from underneath you at any moment.

"Okay, one foot in front of the other, you can do this," you say under your breath, trying to get your breathing back to an average pace; you make it to the front entrance; you know you told Peter that you would wait, but you can't stay a second longer, crossing the threshold, and are met with harsh winter winds, cursing yourself, each wind slicing through your clothes like a thousand icy needles against your skin.

"I'll just meet Peter along the way," you whisper; you bury your hands deep in your pockets and start your trek home; you feel eyes following you in the darkness, and your lips pull in a tight line. From the corner of your eye, you catch sight of someone tucking behind a corner.

"Hello?" you ask, uneasy slithering through your body, every alarm bell going off, the hairs on the back of your neck standing straight up. You pick up your pace, trusting you'll run into Peter soon.

"Hey, pretty girl," they say, much closer than before, almost stopping you in your tracks, blood running cold; you know that voice.

"Hey beautiful," you hear directly behind you, and your hair stands on end; you feel a knife press into the small of your back, and your breath hitches in your throat.

"Turn around for me," he says ominously, smiling from ear to ear. When you turn around and meet his eyes, your eyes widen; it was the man from the supermarket who attacked you, but now there was no security to save you, and still no sign of Peter.

"I don't want any trouble; you can have everything I have; just let me go, please," you say, your voice showing how terrified you are.

"Oh, I know what I want," he smiles maliciously, the insinuation very clear.

"No, NO!" you screamed. You wanted to run, but he had the advantage.

"Please don't, anything but that," you cry, tears blurring your vision.

"Y/N?" you hear Peter's sweet voice call for you; you gasp; your salvation has come, and your fear melts away; you attempt to turn and face Peter, but a hand stops you mid-turn and pulls you back, as quick as your fear left, it returns, you feel a hot, stinging pain; your attacker was long gone, you look down and see red, on your clothes, hands, and arms, the realization sinks in, You turn around, and lock eyes with Peter, his face twisted in terror, dread filling every part of his being.

"Peter," you say breathlessly, reaching your hand out for him but tripping over your feet, your body falling limply to the ground. You taste metal in your mouth; you feel everything, the searing hot pain from the stab to the rough concrete nipping at your skin, the air filled with that strong metallic smell; you're gasping for air, desperately trying to take in a full breath, your hearing is muffled, you faintly hear Peter's footsteps growing closer.

"Y/N!, no no, no!" he cried out, grabbing your hand and gripping it tightly.

"Karen, what do I do?" he shouts, his heart pounding like a drum in his ears, every fiber in his being panicking, his breath coming out in ragged gasps.

"Put pressure on the wound and lift her feet higher than her body to increase blood flow to her brain and heart; I'll alert the authorities," she said calmly.

"Okay," he whines, following Karen's instructions, body shaking violently, sobs ripping through his body.

"Peter? What's happening?" you ask weakly, gently squeezing his hand.

"Y/N, it's okay; help is on the way; I'm right here." his throat is aching.

"Am I dying?" your voice barely above a whisper, your face contorting with anguish.

"I don't wanna die, Peter, don't let me die," you whimper out, eyes red and swollen from crying. You try to sit up, but Peter holds you down.

"No, no, just lay down," he sniffles, caressing your face, gently wiping your tears away.

"Peter, I'm so cold," you whimper out, body shivering, your blinks becoming slower and slower, eyelids so heavy, sleep slowly pulling you in, it comes in waves, slowly lulling you to eternal rest, you close your eyes.

"Y/N? Y/N?!" Peter screams, shaking you, your eyes heavily opening, looking up at Peter with despair in your eyes

"I'm so tired Pete," you say sluggishly, your grip on Peter's hand loosening slightly.

"Just stay awake for me, Y/N, okay? Don't go to sleep, oh god, please, don't do this," Peter speaks through his sobs; he holds your body close to his like you'll turn to dust before his eyes.

"Peter," you say weakly; you feebly raise your hand to caress Peter's damp face.

"I love you," you say with a smile, tears slowly falling down your face, getting lost in your hair.

"No, don't say that, please; they're almost here, just a little longer," he chokes out through sobs, rocking you both back and forth.

"Please, Y/N, I can't do this without you. Don't leave me, please," he cried into your hair, body quivering.

"Karen, how much longer?!" he shouts, weeping loudly

"T minus 3 minutes," she said evenly.

"See? 3 minutes, just hang on for 3 more minutes, for me, baby, please," he says hopefully, smiling down at you.

"Okay, 3 more minutes," you say lightly; you can faintly hear the sirens, relief washing over your body; you're almost there.

"You hear that Y/N? You're gonna be okay," he sniffles, moving the hair out of your face.

"You're gonna be okay," he cries in relief, ambulance pulling up in a flash.

"What happened?" The EMT asked, pulling Peter's hands away from the wound.

"I-I, s-she was stabbed, I don't know who," rage filled his body, what he'll do when he finds them.

"We gotta move, now," the EMT says to his comrade; they nod and move you onto the gurney, swiftly moving you into the ambulance. Peter hops into the van, watching the EMTs work quickly; you look so weak, breathing shallowly, until Peter hears the dreaded flatline.

"Y/N!" he stands up, reaching out to you until the EMT forces him back down. The ambulance pulls into the hospital's emergency entrance. Peter follows feverishly behind you until a nurse pushes him back.

"Sir, you can't go back here. I'm sorry," she says apologetically. Peter sits on one of the chairs in the hall, uneasy settling in his stomach, waiting for what feels like an eternity.

"Peter?" the doctor calls out, eyes scanning the room.

"That's me; how is she?" he asked, Peter searching the doctor's face for the answer.

"I'm so sorry; we did everything we could; she lost too much blood." The doctor said apologetically; the world muffles around Peter; you flash through Peter's mind, all the memories; he feels nothing, utterly void of all feeling. Peter doesn't find the strength to move until May wraps her arms around him, but he just stands, eyes glued forward.

"Peter, I'm so sorry, honey," May said with sadness dripping from her voice; she pulled back and cupped Peter's face.

"Oh, May, she's gone, I lost her," he cried

[ironrad]

Morgan crying:

Peter: What’s wrong Maguna?

Morgan: Dad said you’re about to turn 20

Peter confused:

Morgan crying harder: Spiders can ONLY live up to 20 years

Peter: Awe, it’ll be fine. I’m not really a spider.

Peter frantically whispering to Tony: it’ll be fine, right?

Tony shrugging: I’m not a biologist.

Peter sweating profusely:

[spider-man-199999]

No need to hide it

gif by @userjoel

pairing: college!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader; Post nwh; not too canon

word count: 6K

warnings: underage drinking for USA citizens; mentions of sex

summary: Peter thought no one remembered him after the spell, however you did, but not for the reasons he was afraid you would. Mostly fluff and slow burn romance.

a/n: I'm a sucker for college!Peter, I literally cannot think about anything else. ANY SCIENCE TALK IS A BUNCH OF BS I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT CHEMISTRY OR SCIENCE.

part2

"Hey, catch!" you heard a male voice from somewhere behind you, making you turn towards the sound. A brown leather football flew throgh the air, landing in your feet. You picked it up, throwing it back to the shirtless man that was jogging in your direction.

"Thanks!!" He said after he caught it, running off back to whoever the other shirtless dude he was playing with was.

"Yeah no problem..." you muttered under your breath, trying to hide how flustered you were.

It was orientation week at Empire State University.

The weather, apparently, was still warm enough to have people running shirtless around campus, and being the shy, awkward geek you were, it was hard not to get embarrassed by any social interaction, let alone one that included both sport and a half-naked man. Overall, orientation week was going well. You checked out a few classes that sparked some interest, went to the library, the gym, even got completely settled in your dorm room. Things were going smoothly, excluding the fact you hadn't really met anyone new. Most of the people in your classes seemed like they already knew at least one person and stuck to them. Since you were not really the type to go out of your way and approach people, it left you walking around campus alone, sitting in class alone and even eating alone. It wasn't all that bad, just lonely. Your roommate hadn't arrived on campus yet either, so everything felt especially odd to you, like you were invisible to everyone. 

Four days in and the long walks between buildings were already annoying. It was so easy to get lost or distracted on the way between buildings. You didn't know the shortcuts yet, so it was always a hazard whether you would make it to class on time. Miraculously you got there early, and gave yourself a mental praise for that. You didn't expect to actually be in a lab on the first day of class, and were glad you got there on time because there were barely enough lab coats for everyone in the room. You really didn't want to be the freak who wasn't wearing one. You scanned the room as you sat down on one of the desks, secretly praying that this class wouldn't require having a lab partner or work in groups because it was going to make you feel even worse. And as you were stalking the people around you, your eyes landed on someone who looked suspiciously familiar. He wasn't terribly tall, curly brown hair, one backpack over his shoulder, flannel shirt over a plain white t-shirt and regular blue jeans. You could recognise Peter Parker from miles away. You've never felt so terrified and so excited at the same time. You finally knew someone in this university and it had to be him of all people. He never told you he was going to ESU. In his defense, you couldn't really recall ever speaking to him. You used to have the biggest crush on him back in high school, but never gathered the courage to actually chat him up, even if it were about homework. He never got assigned as your partner on a project either (no matter how many times you would fantasize about it), so you just graduated one day and accepted the fact it just wasn't meant to be. 

But now you were presented with the perfect opportunity to actually talk to him and decided to take it. Unfortunately, the class started before you could approach him. You tried your best to keep your focus on the professor, but it seemed as if that was not necessary, he was only going over the main goals of the class and what books you would need. You sneakily looked over Peter from time to time, thinking about what would be best to say to him and not make it awkward. 

The class was over in the blink of an eye, which made your heart beat pick up because you no longer had an excuse to not approach him. There was a line forming around the coat hangers, which you thought was going to be the best way to casually start a conversation. You cut the line when you saw Peter hang up his coat, putting yours next to his and smiling at him. He smiled back when the two of you locked eyes. 

"Hey" you said "Peter Parker, right?"

He looked a bit stunned by your question. First, he was starstruck because the prettiest girl he had ever seen came out of nowhere and greeted him and secondly, she knew his name. And that was not supposed to be like this at all. His mind was rushing and calculating how it were possible. Were you a supervillain from an alternate reality trying to expose him? Or did the spell just not work on you? All of the scenarios seemed very bad for him. 

The way he just sat there and said nothing was making you extremely nervous. It did feel like a terrible idea now that you had done it. 

"We used to take Spanish together in high school." you added, your voice shaking slightly from the anxiety. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything, I'm really sorr-"

"Wait Spanish?" he finally said, his theories crumbling down when he realized what was actually going on. You were no supervillain, just an old classmate. Yet, he was sure he would have remembered you. 

"I really don't remember..." he continued, feeling his cheek heat up.

"Oh that's fine, we never really... spoke? Like at all, I sat all the way in the back and no one could make me say a word."

He laughed softly at your words. 

"Wanna discuss this over coffee? If you don't have any other classes?"

"I'm free, so yeah, we could grab a coffee"

20 minutes later the two of you were laughing over how ridiculous you looked in the yearbook. Peter was holding your phone and looking at the photo in which you still had braces on, your eyebrows were so badly drawn on because you thought shaping them with a razor the night before was a good idea. It was not, you shaved off so much from one of them you had to fill it in. And since it was your first ever filling eyebrows in, it was very, very bad.  Also, your hair looked like it was made out of dark matter, because you recently had it dyed black, straightened it and accidentally put a bit too much hair oil on it. You were definitely not having a good time back then, but it was a small price to pay to hear Peter laugh so hard. A 4-month accutane treatment to acne and taking your braces off could really make a person change enough. It was a glow up and Peter could really see it now. 

"Okay now that I've seen that, I actually do remember you! You're the girl that got hit in the head with a basketball while tying her shoes on the bench during gym! Somehow you fell back and got under the benches so I had to pull you out."

"Oh no" you whined, hiding your face in your hands to hide how hard you were blushing. And he was right, that really did happen once, and it was that moment that actually started your little crush on him. You were probably 14 when it happened. You fell under the bleachers and felt so embarrassed that you froze on the spot, feeling like crying. People came running towards you, Peter beating them to it, and pulled you out by the hand. He dusted your shirt off and asked if you were alright. To your teenage mind he came in like a knight in shining armor, and it made you fall for him, very hard. 

''Come on, it wasn't that bad!" he said between laughs, giving your phone back. 

"It was bad, like really bad. How can your only memory of me be my worst moment in high school?''

"If that's your worst moment, you were doing good."

You took a sip from your coffee, your finger tracing the rim of the paper cup once you placed it down on the table. You really were regretting not talking to him in school, he seemed like such a nice person, you would have been good friends. 

"Why did you decide to go to ESU? I thought you had plans to go to MIT with your friends."

"Oh, I didn't get in."

"Yeah, totally sounds believable, Peter Parker, the Stark intern, highest SAT score in our grade, didn't get into MIT" you said sarcastically, shaking your head at him. 

He sighed, looking down at his hands. His leg started bouncing under the table and he suddenly seemed tense. Now it really did feel believable, based on his reaction. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"It's okay, honestly I was so sure I would get in too, but I don't think I ended up at a bad place"

"Obviously you didn't, I chose ESU, which makes it the best place ever. And now that I know you're here too, I get double confirmation for that." 

He laughed softly at your words.

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

A few weeks later you were actually glad to have to work in pairs in the lab because Peter asked you to be his partner. 

You arrived just before the class started, sitting down at the table and putting your protective goggles on. 

"Sorry" you said as you sat down next to him, taking the empty flask that was sitting in front of him and immediately starting to mix the things you managed to read on the board. 

Peter smiled at you as he watched you, doing his own thing which you didn't pay too much attention to. 

"Roommate problems again?" he asked. 

Being lab partners meant the two of you had to talk regularly, which led to getting closer. You didn't know many people there besides him and your nightmare of a roommate. 

"You have no idea." you sighed, dropping a few droplets into a test tube. The mixture inside started smoking up slightly, you swirled it around until it stopped, passing it to him so he could heat it up. 

"What did she do this time?"

"Locked me in and took both of the keys on her way out. I had to call her to come back and unlock, she was pissed."

"Still don't get how someone can be so rude to you for no reason."

"I don't think she hates me really, she hates the idea of me. Not every 3rd year student is keen on the idea of babysitting a freshmen, I totally get that."

Peter wrote something down in his notebook after the mixture started bubbling up. You looked at it, brows furrowing. 

"What's the temperature?"

"140 F" 

"Peter that's not supposed to happen" you said worried 

"Actually it is, you didn't have the time to read the board and put only half"

"Oh-"

He removed the test tube, letting it cool down.

"It's okay, we'll just multiply it by two."

"Sometimes I wonder what I would do if you weren't here."

"Probably blow up the place."

You rolled your eyes at him before the both of you laughed, continuing your work. You tried being more concentrated now, and for the most part it was working out. Until Peter would roll up his sleeves and expose his forearms. Or when he would take the goggles off to fix his hair. You tried staring as discreetly as possible, but he probably did notice it every time.

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

That same night was your first ever frat party. You weren't really a fan of parties, the high school ones you went to were boring but you were hoping that college ones were going to live up to the hype everyone was giving them. Plus, you were trying to make amends with your roommate, and she wanted some alone time with her boyfriend back at your place. The idea of frat boys really turned you off, you had seen more than enough of them in class and around campus. 

The music was booming through the speakers as you entered the house, people were everywhere. You could barely squish through the crowd, it was barely 10 pm and people were already wasted. You really wanted to let loose that night too, so you made it over to the bar and took whatever drink was handed to you first. It was vodka. Tasted bitter and burned down your throat and stomach as you drank it. The stress from university and the complicated relationship with Ruth, your roommate, were really starting to get you. Add your unresolved feelings for Peter to the mix and you really do have a strong enough pressure to make you explode like a time bomb. So, you wanted to take some pressure off by drinking and dancing. No one knew you here anyway so it was relatively easy to just do whatever you wanted. 

Five shots of vodka were already in your system by the first hour. The dance floor was yours to take. A red plastic cup in your hand while you were swaying to the rhythm of the song playing, boys were coming from left and right to dance together. And you did dance with them, probably even made out with one or two as well. It continued for what felt like forever, until 2 am rolled around and you started feeling tired and wasted. And the alcohol in your blood was about to hit you in the worst way possible and make you overthink everything that was going on around you. At that point you were sat on a couch in the trashed living room and some dude was talking to you. His hand was on your knee. You were too preoccupied by your own thoughts to even listen to whatever he had to say.

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

Peter hid behind his apartment building on campus, looking around to make sure no one would see him as he took off the spider-man costume. Ever since he went back to no one knowing his identity, he had to sneak around. He couldn't risk any of his roommates seeing him accidentally so he took the costume off outside after patrol, shoved it in his backpack and walked in. If anyone was ever awake and asked where he was, he would say either the library or doing lab work with you. He really did use you as an excuse a lot to his roommates, which gave them all kinds of wrong ideas. He didn't share a bedroom with anyone, which made his life so much easier, but there was a whole other bedroom with two boys in it in his apartment. 

No one was awake when he walked in, throwing his bag on the floor next to his bed. He felt shattered. The whole studying and spider-man business was draining his batteries like never before. Peter lay down on the bed, too tired to even get out of his jeans. He was rapidly drifting into sleep when his phone started ringing. He groaned in annoyance, looking at the screen only to see it were from you. Peter quickly picked it up, any feeling of tiredness leaving his body when he heard you crying on the other side of the phone. 

"Hey, hey, what happened? Are you hurt? Where are you?" he asked, panicked. 

"Ruth locked me out again." you cried on the phone "She left her key in, she was with her boyfriend and they were probably doing the deed and locked themselves and fell asleep."

You babbled really fast, he was trying to understand what you were saying but it was muffled by soft sobs. And you didn't sound sober either. 

"Peter, you fix all of my lab mistakes, please fix this."

He wasn’t sure what to do, especially since he didn’t know where you lived exactly. There weren’t many opinions in this situation, he could either find you and kick the door down so you could get in your place or he could take you in his room and let you sleep there. 

“Can you tell me where you are?” 

“In front of my dorm?”

“I don’t know where that is, genius”

You continued sobbing at his words, which made him feel even worse. You were very vulnerable and probably scared and he was acting poorly. 

“Okay, okay, sorry, I didn't mean that. Tell me where your dorm is and I’ll come fix it, okay?”

“It’s the one next to the library” 

He hopped out of his bed, rushing towards the building. 

When he got there he saw you sitting on the steps, looking down at your feet. 

"Hey" he said, standing in front of you, his hands in his pockets as he watched you slowly look up to him. Your eyes were red from all the crying and your cheeks were still wet from the tears. Peter sat down next to you with a sigh, the second he did that he could tell you had been drinking. The smell of vodka and cigarettes were all over your clothes. 

"Hi" you muttered back after a while, not really sure what to say or do at this point. 

"So what happened?" he whispered to you, bumping his shoulder into yours

"I got locked out, again" you whispered back, looking at him. He was smiling, a warm, comforting smile that made you feel so incredibly guilty that you called him. 

It made you realize what time it actually was, and that you probably woke him up. It was the middle of the night, and you woke up the closest thing you had to a friend here to help you. You ruined his sleep so he could save you from something you could have probably figured out on your own if you weren’t drunk. 

"Come on" he said, getting up and reaching out his hand to help you up as well. ''Let's get you out of here" 

You took his hand, the tears were welling up in your eyes again as you looked at him. He seemed so tired, yet he came rushing to your rescue. 

He walked in his room, trying to be as quiet as possible. 

"Wow you have a double bed??" you said as you looked around his room.

"Oh, yeah" he said, blushing when he saw the state of it. He didn't really think about making the bed before he left and the bedding looked like scrambled eggs with all the pillows and blankets everywhere. Peter didn’t want to look messing in front of you but it was too late for that.

"Lucky duck" 

Peter was kind enough to take out some clothes for you to sleep in while you showered. It was a spare pair of pajama pants and an old star wars t-shirt. He looked away while you got dressed and helped you into bed after that. 

"I can't thank you enough for this."

"Oh, you can, you can do my calculus homework."

The both of you laughed after that. He grabbed a pillow and a blanket, with the intention of sleeping on the couch. 

"Where are you going?"

"To sleep?"

"Not here?"

"Well, no-.... I-.... Don't want to invade...."

"I feel bad enough about it as it is, please come sleep in your bed, it's big enough" you whined.

Peter stood at the door. He really didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable, or crush you while he slept but at that point he was so shattered that the bed seemed like the best thing that could happen to him. You got up and pulled him towards the bed, grabbing the pillow and blanket with your other hand and throwing them on.

Peter was asleep the second his head hit the pillow, and you followed a minute or two later. It didn't feel as weird to sleep in the same bed as the two of you had anticipated. Maybe the alcohol helped. You were pretty sure that it was, in fact, the alcohol that made you call him, the one that insisted on sharing the bed as well. Sober you would probably be a flustered mess just from the thought of being in Peter's bedroom alone. 

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

The second Ruth knew you had somewhere to sleep over, she took advantage of it. It was happening so often that you basically had a schedule when you would sleep over at Peter's. He didn't mind one bit because it was a reason to spend time with you. Plus, you did all your work for classes together, even in classes you or him weren't taking. So by the middle of the semester, you two were practically platonically dating. 

And it made you feel the worst and the best type of ways at the same time. You absolutely loved spending time with him and your feelings were only getting deeper and deeper with each day. Somehow, you still felt like you were taking away the college experience from him. He declined every party opportunity his roommates suggested, he rarely spoke to other girls and if he went out with friends from other classes, he would always make you tag along with them. Everyone thought that if you were not dating, then you were definitely hooking up, no matter how many times you denied it. Truth being told, it was actually kind of weird that you weren't doing either of those. And it got even weirder when someone else started expressing an interest in Peter.

Surprisingly enough, even to yourself, you actually liked going to parties. The alcohol helped you loosen up and talk and since Peter actually had other friends, now you knew some people here and there. You would always find someone to chat with at a party and you learned that socializing wasn't at all as scary as it seemed before. 

Tonight you found yourself at a random party in some basement of the dorm on the other side of campus. You knew that you'd be home late so the arrangements of staying over at Peter's were already made. As you were speaking to someone from your beginner-friendly biology class, a girl approached you. She was tall, way taller than you, had long dark hair and an amazing body. She grabbed your arm and said your name in a questioning tone. You nodded slightly taken aback from the interaction. 

"Can I borrow you for a second?" she asked, turning to the other person in an apologetic smile. 

"Sure."

She pulled you a bit away, still holding your arm right above the elbow. The whole thing was making you tense for some reason. 

"I'm sorry that I asked like this." she said, letting your arm go. "Actually, we've met before, I take calculus with Peter Parker, he brought you over at one of our group study sessions."

"Oh. Right." you did remember her now, but she looked slightly different with heavy makeup on. She definitely looked like one of the it girls on campus and you got the impression that she actually was. 

"So I wanted to ask if you and Peter were a thing?"

Once again you were stunned by a question from her. You looked around for some reason, she was making you feel uneasy. 

"Um, no, we're not."

"Great!" she said with a bright smile. "Do you think he'd be into me? He has this nerdy sex appeal, I actually really want to get with him."

You were blinking in disbelief towards her. This whole thing was really not making you feel well about your situation. She was gorgeous and she wanted to fuck your crush, it was going to end badly for you. You felt something like a ball in your throat that you knew even the gin couldn't wash down. 

"Well, good luck with that." you said, patted her shoulder and walked away before you started crying in front of her.

The whole situation really put you in a bad mood. There was nothing particularly wrong with it, but it managed to burst the bubble you were so peacefully living in. It got you wondering if Peter had his eyes on someone, if he was sleeping around with different girls, if he was going on dates. You kept imagining it, and drinking to try to stop, but nothing seemed to help. You couldn't spend every waking second with him to know, plus he never talked about girls with you. You didn't know who he was texting, or if he were going out with someone and not telling you. You were sure he wasn't because no girlfriend would ever feel okay with some random girl sleeping over as much as you did. Then again, he could be hooking up with someone, you were only sleeping over two or three times a week. 

You were so preoccupied by your worries that you almost didn't pick up your phone when Peter called. He said he finished whatever work he had to do and was going to come to the party and pick you up. It made you even more anxious. 

He walked through the door 15 minutes after the phone call. The whole thing was a sensory overload for him, the music was way too loud, the colors were too flashy, people were everywhere. He was constantly on edge because people were walking a little too close and his reflexes were being triggered. He hated parties. He hated the idea of you liking them even more. With the amount of time the two of you were spending together in the last few months, he grew very attached, he even developed a little crush of his own, but he was too terrified to admit that. Given his background and his secret, he wasn't too sure he wanted to put you through what MJ had gone through. He felt like it would be unfair to lie to you at the same time, it's not something you could hide from the person you're dating. 

People greeted him here and there, giving him brofists and handshakes. Peter really felt like a real frat boy, but he hated the experience. He froze in his tracks when he saw a girl that looked just like you making out with some dude. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, his chest tightened and it felt like someone set his lungs on fire. You were wearing black skinny jeans and a black top, hair was tied in a bun and your tongue was in someone's mouth. Was that why you sounded so weird on the phone? Was that why you waited so long to pick up? Peter was too stunned to even move so he just stood there in shock for a few seconds. He felt a hand on his shoulder, which made him snap out of it, turning his head. He met your eyes when he looked down, giving you a confused look. His head turned back to the other you that was still exchanging saliva with a guy, then back to the actual you. He finally started breathing again. Your outfit was actually nothing like the girl's, you had a long-sleeved light blue dress on that had a v-cut. It made you look really desirable and the way the color mixed so well with the lighting in the room, you looked like you walked straight out of Peter's dreams. He was practically trying to take pictures of you with his eyes for later. 

"What?" you asked as you noticed his stare, looking at your dress for accidental spills or any signs of why he was looking at you like that. 

"Nothing, actually." he said, taking the cup you were holding and finishing whatever was in it. He didn't really care what was in, alcohol had little to no effect on him but he liked to pretend. 

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

You expected to go home shortly after Peter's arrival, but things didn't play out that way. The girl that talked to you about him earlier tonight saw the two of you and came over to chat. After 15 minutes of them talking and you awkwardly standing there, holding an empty cup in your hand, you were feeling more annoyed than ever. And pretty drunk too. You were already in a bad mood because of her, and when Peter suggested walking her to her dorm you just felt like crying. Your feet were killing you because of the heels you were wearing and you made sure to inform him but he seemed to have forgotten about that. 

And now, all three of you were walking around campus to get her safely to her room. You were giving them a side eye the whole time while she tried to scoot over closer to him. And when she said she was cold she could offer his flannel, you rolled your eyes so hard you got scared they'd get stuck and not come back. Unfortunately, they did come back and you had to witness him putting his shirt over her shoulders. Once at her dorm, she even had the audacity to kiss his cheek before walking in. It made him blush, and you, you were really about to throw up at that point. It felt like a very weird game of chess, and she had checked you in it. 

"Are you okay?" Peter asked when he saw how you looked. Gorgeous, he thought, but kind of pale and like you would collapse any second. 

"No" you said, your eyes meeting his. You could see the lipstick stain on his skin from the other girl and now you really did feel like throwing up. You were only 3 steps away from him and he made them so fast you felt like he teleported. 

"No, no, Peter, step away" you told him, your hand covering your mouth while you rushed to the nearest trash can and actually threw up. He rushed after you, holding your hair as you did. 

"You didn't look THAT drunk."  he said, patting your back while you were coughing. 

"This is so embarrassing" you cried softly, as if this night wasn't humiliating enough. 

"There, there, I hope you got it all out because I am not changing my sheets for the second time today." 

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

"I'm thinking about switching my field of studies." you said, looking at Peter. 

He took his glasses, looking at you in disbelief. He was sat at his desk, trying to solve a math problem while you were lying on his bed, playing on your phone. 

"Chemistry doesn't do it for you anymore?" he asked mockingly.

"No, I just hate spending so much time with you." you replied in the same tone, sticking your tongue out at him. 

It had been a week since the whole party thing. You didn't throw up at his place, but you did have the worst hangover of your life. Peter helped you through it, but didn't pass up an opportunity to make fun of you.

"Then why are you here? I'm sure there's a party somewhere on campus."

"Shut upppp" you groaned, throwing a pillow at him. He caught it mid air and put it on the back of his chair before turning to finish his work. 

It felt like it was too early to sleep but you didn't have anything better to do since Peter was so busy with math. You turned on your side, facing the wall, since you liked sleeping on the side next to the wall, and closed your eyes. You didn't know how long it had been but you were definitely asleep when you got woken up by a knock on the door. You looked up with confusion, half asleep when Peter gave you an apologetic smile and got up from his chair to check who it was. 

He assumed it was one of his roommates that either lost or forgot his key, but he was surprised to open the door to his calculous classmate. 

"Hey, Pete." She said "May I come in?"

"Sure-" he said, letting her in

The girl walked over to the couch and sat down. 

"Remember last week when you gave me this shirt?" 

"I do." he said, only now noticing what she was wearing. It was his flannel, with a belt around her waist.

"Well, I came to return it." she said, unbuttoning it and taking it off. She got up, only in her underwear and walked towards him, handing him the shirt.

Peter was so flustered that he had to stare at his feet the whole time. 

"I think you got the wrong idea here-" he started, squeezing the flannel in his hand.

"About what?" she asked, squatting down in front of him so he could see her, and, well, you know...

Just as he was about to move, the door of his bedroom flew open. You stood there, wearing his shirt as your pajamas, double taking on what you were seeing. You didn't think there would be anything serious happening, but the chatter was disturbing your sleeping attempts and you wanted to check what was going on. But now you were just frozen in your spot, staring at a half-naked girl that was on her knees in front of Peter. Both of their heads turned towards you, staring in the same amount of disbelief. It felt like your worst nightmares had turned into reality. Neither of you knew what to do or what to say and you just stood there in silence, the tension so heavy it could suffocate someone. 

"It's not what it looks like." Peter managed to say, holding eye contact with you. 

''I'm so sorry, I didn't know-'' she started, getting up from the floor. 

"I think I'll pretend I dreamt that and go back to sleep." you said, closing the door before anyone could do or say anything else. 

"Peter, I didn't know, she told me you two weren't a thing last week."

He handed her the shirt, not even bothering to look at her. 

"We're not. You can keep this, go home."

She walked to the door, stopping at it to look at his back. 

"I'm really sorry, if I can do anything, tell me." 

"Goodnight."

He knocked gently on the door before walking in. He saw you tucked in the bed, hugging one of the pillows. You weren't really sure what to feel right now and you were trying your best not to cry. It wasn't like the things between you had changed and you had no right to be upset over his personal affairs. Peter sat on the bed next to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

"I know you're not sleeping, can we talk about this?"

"Talk about what?"

"What happened back there."

"There is nothing to talk about."

"I don't want you to get the wrong idea."

You sat up, still hugging the pillow. You pressed the back against the wall, looking directly into his eyes.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why don't you want me to get the wrong idea? Whatever that is supposed to mean."

He looked at his lap, unsure of what to say next. 

"Because I'm not that kind of guy."

"Peter, it's none of my business what you do for fun."

"For fun? You think I do this for fun?"

"You're not doing math for fun, that's for sure."

"Are you always a bitch or is it a defense mechanism?"

"You were the one who wanted me to ''not get the wrong idea'' and suddenly I turned into a bitch?"

"Okay, I overstepped on that one. Nothing happened there, I haven't talked to her or seen her since we left the party together and you threw up."

"Okay, for some reason I believe that, but why should it be concerning me?"

"Stop pretending."

"Excuse me?"

He didn't say anything after that, just pulled your arm so you could get closer to him and kissed you. It happened so fast you couldn't really process it. Once the shock was over, you kissed him back. You probably looked like a teen movie kissing scene, you on your knees and arms while he was sitting, one arm for support and the other one cupping your face as you kissed. 

"I should have done this way sooner." he said after you parted.

[sacharinee]

pairing: bf!peter x reader

synopsis: peter likes having you close to him. all the time

wc: 630 ish

a/n: surprise! another one oops. im rlly bored can u tell? cuddling prompt with peter. reader is a cheeky and annoying lil shit. one office reference. i saw a tiktok about this a long time ago and thought this would be a cute idea to write about. also does anyone know how cuddling works tho?? if ur laying on ur side, do u just lay on top of the arm ur crushing on? under a pillow? idk lol. anyways i hope u like :D

there's an ache settling in your right side that wakes you up from your sweet slumber. your head lays atop peter’s soft chest, his steady heartbeat against your ears. it was what lulled you to sleep in the first place. but with peter’s body practically being your own personal heater, the warm air filling the room, and the prominent soreness resting on your side, you began to feel uncomfortable.

“pete,” you whisper.

peter is entirely unfazed. his hold on you is strong. his face is towards you, mouth slightly ajar, letting out the softest of snores and drool out the corner of his mouth. although you love your cuddles with peter, you think he could actually suffocate you in your sleep. the boy loved to sleep, especially on top of you.

your limbs are tangled together. your left leg slung around his waist, arms around his torso, while his buff arms embrace your shoulders protectively.

ever so slightly, you begin to move your leg, retreating it back to your side as you push against his body and establish a more comfortable position. you snuggle further into peter as sleep wins you over once again.

it only lasts for a second when you wake from your boyfriend’s murmurs, he seems to talk in his sleep when he whispers your name. he huffs loudly and smacks his lips a couple of times with his brows furrowed. you feel his warm hand reach for the back of your knee to bring it over his crotch.

a confused look paints your face as you gaze up toward him. he’s asleep as dead. did he really just do that? you almost laugh out loud. his quirky behavior never fails to amuse you and has your stomach going in flips. he just wants you close to him. :(

but you think you’re funny, so you test out that theory one more time, this time blatantly stripping your leg away from him.

this gets a reaction out of peter. he seems to wake when he gusts an impatient breath, “no” and grabs your knee again, forcefully holding it against him.

in disbelief, you’re unable to contain your burst of laughter as you hold yourself up with one arm and stare at him wide-eyed, “what is wrong with you?”

“ph’shhh” peter knits his brows together, his eyes shut tight with a cute pout, as he blindly brings a hand to your face and gently shoves your head back against your pillow.

“peter-” “shut up.” he feels you lick the palm of his hand, “yuck,” but he doesn’t care to move it away from you. it’s only when you swat his hand away and settle back down against him to give him peace of mind. only for a moment, though. you have fun annoying peter, almost like a hobby. he’s halfway asleep when he feels you aggressively snatch your leg away from his hold.

“y/n!” peter groans, “stop it.” this time, your boyfriend pushes you on top of him, your entire body weight lays over his while he keeps a tight grasp on you, making sure to keep your leg over his waist and your head upon his chest.

his irritation riles you up, and you’re giggling through it all.

peter’s not having it though, not at all. he heaves another deep breath through his mouth, with the same grumpy look on his face, “why are you the way you are?”

you gasp, “me?!” “yes, you.”

not done yet, you flick his forehead, “you know, you’re so annoying sometimes, pete.”

he scoffs, “oh yea?”

“yea. a total pain in the-”

peter shoves his hand against your face and into his chest one last time, “ass.”

you decided you’ve had your fun but you’re too delighted to go back to sleep. too delighted to know that the boy you love and cherish always wants to be impossibly close to you all the time, conscious or not.