#peter parker fan fic

[shawnxstyles]

Omg! Panty stealer pt2 is sooooo gooood! Cocky and dom Peter absolutely blew my mind! Your writing is awesome!

Pleeeeease tell me that it will be third part to fulfill the panty trilogy! As humble suggestion maybe reader find out that Pete is SpiderMan and he will finally get head from her while he is in his spidey costume? Or maybe more than just blowjob?Hehehe Am I very bad and naughty that I'm typing this to you? 🥵🤤

Anyways love ya darling! You're smashing it!

in the suit

words: 3k

warnings: smut; (m- receiving [oral], dirty talk), language, and fluff of course. barely edited.

note: panty!peter blurb #1 coming up :D also, this is the way i believe y/n would have found out about spider-man, but i have another request for the same thing so i’ll probably do an alternative version!

—

you couldn’t stop thinking about it. how?

how does peter manage to get into your room every night? okay, not every night, but most nights.

most nights, peter magically and mysteriously sneaks his way up into your forbidden bedroom with ease. sometimes, you even wait and watch outside your window to try to get a peak at what he’s doing. but you never see him.

he’s just so slick. how does he do it?

you and peter have been together for over a month now, if you’re counting the day he broke in. the feeling isn’t necessarily new in your heart. you feel like you’ve known him your whole life. like he’s always just… been there.

through this month of stability yet craziness, you haven’t gone back to the frat house since the halloween party. you thought that after you guys got together you would stay there more often, but peter doesn’t want you to be ‘attacked’ by the guys. meaning, he doesn’t want them to ask a million questions when you guys are supposed to be private. you thought his excuse was dumb, but he was also just being a bit protective.

in reality, peter just didn’t know how to get you into the frat house without anyone seeing you. you both had agreed that your relationship was going to be kept private, very private. people could spread rumors and assume you two were together, but you weren’t going to show each other off. you guys liked it this way, it made your relationship more special because it was just for you two.

peter had a sixth sense, sticky fingers, and webs. it was pretty easy for him to crawl up into your room especially because you didn’t have security cameras (maybe you guys should get some at some point though…). you would constantly ask him how he does it since you live on the second floor and it was high up. but peter responds by not responding and instead laughs and kisses you. god, he was too good at distracting you.

but tonight, you were determined to find out.

peter had already texted you earlier and said he wouldn’t be able to stop by tonight because of overbearing homework. you completely understood, and sent him a good luck and goodnight to me then message. but truly, you were sneaking out and heading towards the frat.

you put on your sneakers and a hoodie, pulling the strings tightly around your head. the early december weather was no joke in massachusetts, and your thermal leggings were barely helping to keep you warm. as quietly as possible, you leave through the back door, making sure not to alert anyone or anything. not like you have a system to alert though.

you cut through some of the hedges until you’re in the front yard and the frat is staring at you from across the street. taking a deep, chilly breath, you cross the road with your frozen fingers tucked in your pocket.

all the lights in the top rooms were off, except one. you’re not totally sure which one is peter’s, but what other frat guy would stay up until 11 p.m. working on homework?

maybe ned, but he sleeps downstairs.

you walk until you’re under the window, the yellowish light taunting you. there was no latter, vine, rope, or magic hair to get you into the bedroom. the houses were built very similarly, and you know he doesn’t bring a latter with him.

so how does he do it?

you take a glance at your surroundings. the biggest difference of your houses was that the guys’ didn’t have large garden hedges. they just had a shit ton of messy bushes that they should probably trim once in a while.

having no ideas, you try to jump towards the window. great, that’s totally going to help you. maybe you’ll get some super jump that can spring you up and inside.

you feel stupid. yeah, peter may be the smartest person on campus and going to mit on a full academic scholarship, but how does he sneak into your room? with geometry? you didn’t think so.

wait.

what if… he’s hiding something from you?

that would explain why he’s so weird about it. letting the impulsive decisions take you over, you throw a rock at his window. hopefully, you’ll get his attention and he’ll come down, so you can see how he does it. or he’ll just go through the front door… whatever he does, you need to ask him this question right now. or else you’ll never be able to sleep again.

when throwing the rock gets tedious and noisy, you quit. just as you’re about to drop to the ground in annoyance, you hear a distant whipping sound. you hold your breath as if the person whipping will hear you.

fuck. it wasn’t a good idea for you to go out at night.

suddenly feeling anxious and scared, you slowly creep towards the sorority house. you don’t get too far before you see a body flinging through the air. the whipping noise gets closer and closer to you with every web on the streetlights. what the…

there’s only one person that could possibly be doing the impossible.

spider-man.

but what was he doing in your little neighborhood? this was one of the safest places in the area, so he didn’t need to check up here. there were so many more places in massachusetts that needed saving. feeling beyond curious, your feet scatter to hide you behind one of the untrimmed bushes.

you watch through crowded leaves as spider-man swings through the neighborhood, getting towards you. it’s like he can sense you and he’s coming for you. your heart thumps wildly in your chest, nervous about seeing him. you’ve never seen him before, and at least not in person. he was popular on the newspaper and television screens, but never on the street. unless you lived within the city.

with one long and final thwip, spider-man flings himself towards the frat house.

what. the…

you place your hand over your mouth, just in case your breathing is too loud. you intensely watch as the spider crawls up the white wall and towards the only lit window in the whole house.

no. fucking. way.

before you could fully register what you were seeing, you felt the gasp leave your mouth. you slap both of your hands on your face to shut yourself up. you nearly fall back on your heels as spider-man halts his movements. he scans his surroundings before jumping down the wall entirely.

your eyes are wide and your hands of shaking. you’ve never felt your heart beat so unbelievably fast, but you’ve also never been more afraid. what does he do to people that find out? what is going to happen to your relationship?

the body of blue and red stocks closer to the bushes with careful steps. you try to scoot away, but your back hits the fence. the wood creaks, your actions not quiet enough. his footsteps pick up speed as they rush to the bushes with determination.

spider-man jumps over the plant with grace, hoping to see a wild animal of some sort. but when he sees his girl with the most shocked and terrified expression in the world, he immediately falls to his knees.

“y/n,” he calmly says, slowly inching to you. he doesn’t hesitate to comfort you as peter. you don’t move, you just listen. “it’s okay. i promise.”

now that he sensed you, peter could hear your heartbeat overbearingly in his ears. he could hear your muffled breaths under your palm, and he just wanted to soothe your fear.

“baby,” he wanted to cuddle your body until you stopped shaking. you weren’t crying, you were just in shock. peter takes a quick glance at his surroundings before yanking off his mask and kneeling, so you could see his face reflecting off the moonlight. “it’s just me.”

“i…” you whispered as your hands fell from your face. peter doesn’t hesitate to grab them gently with his gloved ones. “…knew it.”

“you knew i was spider-man?”

“well… for like five seconds,” you flusteredly laugh while trying to recover. you still haven’t gotten used to this. well it’s only been a minute. “i knew you were hiding something.”

“what are you doing out this late anyway?” he stares straight up at the moon as it shines vehemently over you both.

“uh… well,” you start, “i was kind of curious as to how you always snuck into my bedroom without a latter or something, so i went to see? i don’t really know what i was looking for.”

peter chuckles. “but you found your answer, yeah?”

“yeah, i did,” you smile with sweetness as peter helps you up from the grass floor.

—

“it’s different breaking into your room rather than mine,” you say as you sit on the edge of peter’s bed. you watch as he tosses his mask inside of a box labeled books. “so that’s what was in the box. not dirty magazines.”

“surprise?” peter laughs and you giggle at his shyness. his cheeks and nose were red from the cold, but also from the slight blush that crossed them. you made him feel all warm and tingly inside, and even a little gooey.

his hand reaches for the button on his chest. it deflates, instantly becoming huge around him.

“wait,” you stop him before he undresses himself. he looks towards you. “can i just… look at you for a moment? in the suit?”

a small smirk creeps up his face. peter clicks the button again and his suit encloses on his body, outlining his muscles perfectly. every ridge and curve of him was being shown off by the spandex. you felt a spark of lust fire inside of you at the sight.

“like me in my suit, baby?” he teased as he trudged over to you. you stood up from the bed to meet his buff chest. you nodded with a bite of your lip.

he nearly growls before attaching your lips. it’s barely been a day since he’s last kissed you, but that’s too long for him. his gloved hand grips your jaw to deepen the kiss while your hands explore his messy hair.

the heat between you was undeniable. you were getting worked up over peter in his suit, and that’s something you never thought was possible. because you didn’t think peter being spider-man was possible.

is there a spider-man kink?

you take your shirt off after breaking the kiss, but resume it in no time. as he pushes you onto the bed, you stop him, having a new idea in mind.

“peter,” you sigh, spandex body hovering over yours.

“you okay?”

“yeah, yes. i just…” you swallowed, “can i…”

you didn’t really get your question out. you just slithered your body off the bed until your knees were digging into his carpet. peter’s eyebrows shoot up as he stares down at your figure, submissive below him.

“fuck. you want to touch my cock?” peter was already growing hard at the idea of fucking you in his suit. he found it hot that you found his suit hot. everything seemed to be a turn on right now. but now you were on your fucking knees like an angel and damn near begging to touch him?

how could he say no?

“go ahead then, sweet girl,” peter allows, but you stay still.

“how do i take it off—?”

“right—”

he unzips a zipper that you swear wasn’t there before. you barely take him fully out before you’re drooling at the sight. he was big and thick, and you don’t think you’d ever get used to looking at and feeling him.

your thumb drags over his weepy tip and he winces at your freezing touch.

“sorry!” you exclaimed with a funky smile. he forcefully laughs while you spit warmth into your hand.

“it’s okay, baby.”

your delicate hand wraps around him as you shift up and down. he sighs into the air, eyes fluttering back. your other hand scratches his thighs lightly. then, you fondle his balls until he’s groaning above you.

“fuck, darling,” he moans as his rough hand rests on your head. with his grip on you, you feel inclined to put your mouth on him. you’re barely an inch away, so what are you waiting for?

your lips pucker as you kiss his veiny shaft. you see from the top of your eyes how his face floods with pleasure, and your ego rises.

“if you look at me like that again, i’m going to explode, baby,” peter husks with his fingers laced in your hair for support.

with a hummed chuckle, you finally place your mouth on him. you suck on his leaky tip as a deep groan elicits from him. his noises always give you a bunch of reassurance, so you hum against him in satisfaction.

“takin’ me so well,” peter forces himself to stay still and let you do all the work. although, his hips just want to break free and ram into the back of your throat until you lose your voice. for another time… “love when you’re on your knees for me.”

you vibrated a moan against his cock as you took him deeper, a little more than half way. you were never the best at giving head because you couldn’t go that far down without gagging atrociously, but after peter showed you a better technique, for breathing and comfort, he thought you were a professional.

“you like being on your knees for me? or for spider-man?”

a groggy moan rippled around his cock from your filled throat, confirming his suspicions. you were definitely turned of the idea of peter as spider-man, and because of that, he was too. every time you were horny, peter was too.

you released your hands from him and braced them on his thighs. you focused and remembered the small notes he’s given you before. you take a long breath before sinking his cock deep in the back of your mouth. your thumb stabs your palm to eliminate your gag reflex, and it works. your nose nudges the base of his cock and you can see up close how his abs contract tightly.

“fuck! doing so good for me. going to make me come, sweet girl.”

hearing this, you bob and twist your head with a goal. your tongue swirls exploring around each ridge like it’s never tasted the plain before. peter was delicious; he was sweet with a pinch of saltiness that made you a fan of giving head. you would get on your knees any day for him.

his cock twitches in your mouth, warning you that he’s coming. you feel his hips buck into you as he strongly yanks your hair. you groan as he lets himself go.

“where do you want it? on your face? chest? or are you going to swallow it like a good girl?”

even when his dick twitches again, you don’t make an effort to move. you lick the underside of him, which sends peter over the edge.

a string of hushed groans fall from his pink lips as his muscles clench. ropes of his orgasm spurts down your throat, and you swallow every drop like a champ. well, almost all. parts of his come drip from the corner of your lip as he slowly pulls out of you.

the second he exits you, your jaw is instantly sore and achy, but it was worth it. to see the flustered and breathless peter above you was worthless everytime. peter was nearly disoriented by how fucking incredible your mouth was. how you were.

he tucks himself back into his suit as you remain on the floor. he leans down and helps you up, your knees popping in the process.

“how was it this time?” you croaked, voice cracking horrendously. peter tries not to laugh as he wipes away the nearly dried sperm on your face. you open your mouth without a thought, and he sticks his thumb in your mouth for you to lick it clean.

“it was good. fucking amazing. impeccable. exceeded expectations. outstanding performance—”

“okay, okay i get it. you’re a nerd!” you brokenedly laugh as you shove his chest. you got a sudden wave of chills because you were starting to get a bit cold. your body was still running hot because you were still, well, turned on.

“nerds are awesome, okay? they know everything.”

“like what? impress me,” you challenge as you throw your leg on top of his lap and get yourself seated. he smirks, feeling his cock chuff up a bit already. you were beyond soaked in your panties, and you just couldn’t wait for peter to destroy you.

peter knows you didn’t actually want him to say anything nerdy, so he made it a bit sexual. as always.

“they know how to… kiss.”

“you’re probably the one nerd that knows how to kiss.”

“okay, fine. i know how to kiss,” his hand cups your face as it leans closer towards his. he places a soft, longing kiss on your swollen lips before pulling away way too fast for your liking. “i know how to touch you, i know how to rile you up. right? i’m doing it right now. and you’re probably soaking.”

a warmth wave floods through your body at his words.

“i know how to talk to you too. bet these dirty words are going straight to your little clit, huh?”

“peter,” you whimper. he was right. he was beyond right.

his hand trails down your bare stomach and hovers over your clothed cunt. he can feel the heavy heat radiating from you through your leggings, begging for more.

“i can feel you. i can smell you, too. a perk of being spider-man,” he smiles, “guess this nerd is pretty great.”

“peter!” you shook his shoulders in desperation, but he didn’t move. you had a love hate relationship with his teasing. he indeed got you riled up, to the max, until you were begging him to touch you. he just dragged it on and on and on. he loved hearing you beg for it.

“okay, okay, sweet girl,” peter chuckled as his fingers fumbled down the waistline of your leggings. they were thick, so you helped him get them down. “just want to hear you say how awesome nerds are first. how do you think i made these webs?”

“you’re the hottest, super-nerd i’ve ever met in my life. now can you please fuck me?” you begged as your cunt ached.

“aw thanks, baby,” all he did was laugh at your misery with a smirk. “all you had to do was say please.”

—

note: not my best work, but i hope you enjoyeddd. literally posting this at 1 am :D

taglist: @invisibletrolleyson-jeremy @lnmp89 @crybabyddl @pretty-npeach @marine-mayday @aerangi @justanotherpasserby-blog @tinafuentes @moniffazictress11 @eywaheardyou @alwaysclassyeagle @mrstealuregirl @bisexual-desi @sherlockstrangewolf @madsttx @graywrites20 @bradtomlovesya @princesspannnn @sageisswaggg @purplerose291 @girlbossnancy @lockwood-lover @marzipaanz

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[queen-of-the-avengers]

Waiting For Someone Better

Pairing: Tom!Peter Parker x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.1k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: Prom is right around the corner, and you're waiting for someone special to ask you.

Squares Filled: free space for @spider-man-bingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

You keep your head down when you enter school because you don’t like the attention on yourself. However, when you see Peter at his locker, you bounce over to him, ignoring the stares you get.

“Hey, Peter,” you grin.

“Oh, hey, Y/N,” he stutters.

God, he’s so cute when he’s nervous.

“I missed you this weekend. I don’t like to study alone.”

“I’m sorry. I had something come up with my aunt, and it was this whole thing. I’m sure you don’t want to hear about it,” he shakes his head and puts his books into his locker.

“Nah, I get it. You better make it this weekend.”

“I promise,” he smiles.

You stand there in awkward silence because you’re waiting for him to say something to you. Prom is next month and you still have no date for it. Peter gives you a side glance but doesn’t say anything about it.

“Okay, I’ll see you in class.”

“See ya,” he smiles.

Ned waits until you leave before joining his best friend’s side.

“Did you do it?”

“No,” Peter sighs.

“Why not? You had the perfect opportunity! You better do it soon before someone else asks her. I know Flash was looking at her the other day.”

“What?” Peter swivels his head to his best friend. “No, he wasn’t. Shut up. I’ll ask her.”

“Better be today.”

Peter and Ned say their goodbyes before Peter heads to his science class which he has with you… and Flash. You two have been lab partners for the whole year so maybe he’ll ask you during class. You smile when he walks in and his whole day suddenly gets better.

This class is meant to catch up on your project which you’re struggling with. Peter is so smart that this kind of stuff comes easily to him, so you’re hoping he can do a better job at explaining it to you than the teacher can.

“I really don’t understand this. Can you explain it to me so I can do my part better?” you ask him in a low voice.

“Don’t worry,” he whispers with a smile. “I’ll do it for you.”

He takes out the chemicals to make the special mixture and you watch with admiration at how easily this comes to him.

“I admire how smart you are. I wish I could be that.”

Peter lowers his head so you don’t see the blush on his cheeks and ears. There is a lot of chatter in the classroom as everyone tries to work on their projects so if Peter wants to ask you, then he can do it now without a bunch of people overhearing him. He’s going to do it. He has to do it now before someone else asks you.

He lifts his head and looks at you but no words can come out of his mouth. Flash is behind you just staring at you which makes him even all the more shy about this.

“So, Prom is next month,” you say and he snaps his eyes to you.

“I know,” he nods. “You’re on the committee for it, right?”

“Yeah. Are you going to go?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “Are you/”

“Well, no one has asked me yet.”

You’d think the stare you’re giving Peter would be enough to tell him to ask you but he doesn’t. In fact, he can barely look at you. Maybe he doesn’t like you. You take this as your sign that you should move on to someone else.

When class ends, you and Peter pack up your things and are about to leave when Flash stops you.

“Hey, can I talk to you?”

“I’ll catch up with you later,” you say to Peter who only nods. You could have sworn you saw a look of disappointment but you could be wrong. “What’s up?”

“Look, I’m not going to beat around the bush. Want to go to Prom with me?” There is something about the way he’s asking that gives you the ick. It’s like he’s cocky and is only doing this because he knows it’ll piss Peter off. Peter might not want to go with you but that doesn’t mean you’ll resort to Flash. You open your mouth to respond but he beats you to it. “Before you answer, tell me one thing. I beat Peter to it, huh?”

“Even if you did, there is no way I’d go to Prom with you.”

You leave Flash hanging and walk away from him to go to your next class. You didn’t see Peter for the rest of the school day since you only had science with him, and you didn’t see him after class since you had to go to your part-time job right after.

Your dad owns a men’s suit store in town that is very popular with the older folk, and he allowed you to be a cashier to make extra money and save up for something you really want like a car or a laptop. The first hour is pretty slow since everyone is still at work so you’re just moving about the store and tidying up the clothes as you see fit.

The bell on top of the door rings when someone enters, and you look to see Peter walk in.

“Peter? What are you doing here?” you chuckle.

“I’m looking for a suit to wear to Prom.”

“Okay. Just let me know if you need anything.” Over the next ten minutes, he wanders the store and keeps sighing, indicating he’d like for you to ask him what’s wrong. “Okay, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You’re about to leave to clean when he stops you. “So, you’re going to Prom with Flash?”

“And if I am?” you chuckle.

This time, you don’t miss the look of jealousy that flashes over his face. 

“No big deal.”

Okay, this is just too fun. The longer you go without saying something, the more Peter is fuming. It gets to a point where you have to put him out of his misery.

“I’m joking, Peter. He asked but I said no.”

Peter’s shoulders tense and then relax.

“Oh, that’s cool.”

“Do you want to know why I said no?”

“Why?”

“I’m waiting for someone else to ask me.”

You keep eye contact for ten seconds before leaving his side to go back to the cashier’s desk. Wait, were you talking about him? Do you want him to ask you? Ned is right. If he keeps avoiding this, then someone else will ask you and you might not say no next time. He takes three deep breaths before going up to the counter and placing his hands on the desk as if he means business.

“Y/N? Will you go to Prom with me?”

“Yes,” you grin.

“Wait, really?”

“Yes, Peter,” you laugh, “I will go to Prom with you.”

“Awesome,” he smiles. “Okay, I gotta go. I have to get a suit.”

Peter is out the door before you can tell him he’s already in a store that sells suits. He’s dorky but he wouldn’t be Peter if he wasn’t.

x

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[starlordsandrockets]

One Bad Party

pairing: college!Peter Parker x Reader: 18+

word count: 6k

summary: After being broken up with at a house party, you return back to the compound at 3am to find Peter waiting for you.

a/n: Heyyy sorry I've been playing Baldur's Gate to escape my writers block. But here you go, feedback is appreciated bc I feel like this fic fell flat a bit??? Idk lol

There was only one question that kept crossing Peter’s mind whenever he saw you sneaking out of the compound to see your boyfriend: Were you sleeping with the guy?

Peter had no right to be this jealous. It was not like he had a chance with you. Peter tried, but he could barely hold a conversation with you without withdrawing into himself. He became a stuttering mess and before long he would find himself retiring, far too embarrassed to stay in the same room as you.

Peter looked up from his textbook. He was sitting in his dim room, studying at his desk. Or at least, he was attempting to study. The only thing running through his mind was the outfit you were wearing as you left the compound. 

Your bare leg flashed past your large black coat as you brushed off a comment from Tony. A black satin slip could be made out, hugging your curves as you wrapped the coat’s fabric around you, wishing to hide yourself from Tony’s judging gaze.

The thought of you was pushed out of Peter’s brain as he pushed out his chair, rising to his feet. He needed to clear his head for a bit.

Peter found himself staring into the kitchen’s large fridge, eyes scanning his options without a single processing thought. He wondered if you were coming home tonight. Not that it mattered, it was not like there was anyone special to come home to. Reaching out, Peter grabbed a cold, glass bottle. Studying the label he shrugged before opening the beer. The cold glass pressed against his warm skin as he took a sip.

The alcohol could never affect his senses, unless he were to make sure of it, but he still liked the taste of beer. He winced after his next sip, second guessing himself. Glancing at the time, it was almost three in the morning and Peter found himself praying for your arrival to the compound. Clearly, he needed some air to push his clouded thoughts of you out of his head. Right?

“Friday,” Peter spoke quietly with his drink in hand. 

“Yes Peter?”

“I’m going outside,” He informed the system.

“Of course, Peter. It is currently 40 degrees. I would recommend a jacket,”

“Thanks,” Peter smiled, hand finding a hoodie that he managed to leave in the lounge last night. How Tony had not thrown it on the ground in front of his bedroom door already was a surprise. 

Opening the door, the cold air hit him, making him shiver slightly.

Peter remembered what you had on when you left, and he only hoped you were inside somewhere nice and warm. Placing his bottle down on the tiny porch’s only step, he took an awkward seat on the cold stone. He rubbed his hands together, now wishing he had made a warm cup of coffee instead. Placing the bottle against his lips, he tilted his head back. He studied the stars as he took a few large sips of beer.

“What are you Tony’s guard dog?” Your voice rang through his ears, taking him off guard. You watched him begin to choke slightly, “‘Cause you’re shit at it,”

“N-No,” His single word was separated by a heavy cough, “I couldn’t sleep,” Peter knew half a beer was not affecting him, but somehow he was feeling a little confident, “and I noticed you weren’t back yet so-”

“So you’re up playing parent?” You studied where he was spread on the step, blocking your way to the door. Sure, you could go around him, but you already stumbled your way up the compound’s extremely long driveway.

“No- I just- it’s so cold and I was remembering what you were wearing when you left and I-” Peter rambled below you.

“Please give me a break. I heard enough from Tony before I left and I sure as hell don’t want to hear it again, especially from you,” You shot back. Your words were almost flowing like vomit, slurring and sloshing out of your quivering lips.

“No- No I- Y/N,” Peter shook his head. Moving his hands, he attempted to stand up, however his arm knocked against his bottle. The glass fell against the stone, shattering almost instantly. Staring at it, he almost laughed at how it reflected the conversation that hung in the frigid air.

“You’re in my way and I’m cold, so please,” Your gaze fell to your pointy heels as you wrapped your coat’s fabric around you tightly. Closing your eyes you did not want to see Peter stumbling before you in response to your hurtful tone. However, you also did not want him to see the tears that were forming in your eyes, “goodnight,” You muttered, pushing the heavy door open. 

“Y/N,” Peter called after you. He watched as you attempted to outrun him, however your imbalance twisted your ankles in your heels, “Hey-” He called out, reaching out, he steadied you as you began to crumble.

Inhaling, your stuffy nose played audibly, directing Peter’s gaze, “No,” You spoke defensively, “No- I’m not- it’s not. Peter,”

“What did he do?” Peter studied your face, “Your makeup- Before you left, you did that little thing you started doing,” He motioned to your eyes, “the little flick. And now it’s gone and your mascara is smudged under there-”

“Peter…” You stared back at him, confused as to why Peter would pay so much attention to you, if any at that. He was Spider-Man and you were Tony’s assistant who just got to live here because it was more convenient for the billionaire.

“No, because did he do something?” Peter questioned. His voice cracked slightly, making him clear his throat.

“Why do you care?” You questioned back, not sure where the question came from. Well, you knew because that is exactly what you were thinking. But, you were unsure as to why you were so blunt. Maybe you were still a little buzzed.

Peter’s hold on you loosened as the question passed through your lips. He could not confess to you, not now. He had thought of so many ways to tell you how he felt, and this was not one of them. 

He studied your appearance. Your makeup was a ghost of the painted picture it was hours before, and your posture was folded in on itself, as if you wished the dark compound to swallow you and allow you to hide away, “Because I knew he’d do something,”

“Y-You,” You stuttered, “don’t even know his name,” Peter’s brown gaze was serious, and it was a look you had never seen him wear. You were never around for important missions, just to make small talk to him at the coffee maker or Tony’s stupid little lounge parties.

“Don’t have to,” Peter spoke, “if he treated you any better I feel like you would’ve mentioned him to someone. To Nat when you guys share your coffee in the morning or Mr. Stark would bring him up during his parties to embarrass you… or to annoy me,”

You did not address his last claim. You just wanted to go to your room and cry, “I’m just… I’m a private person,” You shrugged, not meeting Peter’s gaze any longer. You heard him laugh slightly, a short exhale passing through his lips, “what?”

“I just- My body doesn’t let me get drunk so you wouldn’t believe how much I know about everyone from Mr. Stark’s dumb parties,” He watched as you met his eyes once again, “Y-You,” He paused, your gaze stirring up butterflies, “You say a lot when you’re drunk,”

“Like what?” You pried, watching Peter smile slightly.

“That’s how I found out,” Peter spoke, “Mr. Stark-” He paused, remembering the night Tony had tried so hard to get the two of you together after finding out Peter’s crush on you, “he suggested spin the bottle,” He heard you scoff, “Yeah well, that’s when you refused to play because you ‘met a guy’ and it was ‘kind of serious’,”

“So,” You spoke, “We were,” The word slipped as your gaze froze.

“...Were?” Peter questioned.

“Peter,” You shook your head.

“What do you mean?” Peter pushed.

“Peter, I’m tired,”

“Did he break up with you?”

“It’s like 3am and I want to get this fucking dress and heels off,” You spoke over him, watching him freeze in front of you.

He could help you with that, “Sorry,” Peter spoke, “You don’t have to tell me,” Peter wanted to slip that dress off of you.

“It’s not,” You sighed, feeling guilty as if you kicked a puppy, “It’s not like we talk. You know? When’s the last time we had a conversation like this?” You watched as Peter’s posture straightened in front of you, but in reality it felt like he was about to crumble from your piercing words.

“Right…” Peter spoke, knowing when to take a hint. “Sorry,” He stepped aside, allowing you to claw at the straps of your heels. It felt as if he was letting you slip right through his fingers. Sure, he did not want to be a rebound but at this point, he did not want you to think he had no intention of ever speaking to you, “It’s not that I haven’t tried,”

“What?” You questioned, planting a bare foot on the ground. The heel hung loosely in your grasp as you stared back at him.

“I try to talk to you- A lot actually… but,” Peter specified, “I’m just not great at it- I mean, I’m not even good at it,”

You paused, as awkward silence fell after Peter’s words, “Okay,” You smiled slightly, “Well, maybe we can talk in the morning? Over breakfast? If I’m not hungover,”

“Right,” Peter smiled in defeat, “Sure,” He watched as you pressed your lips in an awkward smile, the lipstick that was once there was now faded. You slipped the other shoe off your foot before turning towards the hallway. You made your way a few steps down the hall to the elevator doors, leaving Peter to stare right at you from where you left him, “It’s because I like you,” He spoke, surely low enough.

The elevator dinged but you did not walk inside it, not yet. You were at a standstill, your brain processing Peter’s quiet confession. Staring into the bright elevator, you watched as the doors began to slowly close. How could Peter like you when you found out your boyfriend had been cheating on you? Why would anyone like you?

“You’re-” You mumbled, “You’re fucking with me,” Turning, you dared to meet Peter’s far off gaze, “Stop fucking with me,”

“W-What?” Peter stuttered, watching you walk closer to him.

“You’re Spider-Man,” You informed, watching his head tilt slightly out of confusion.

“...Yeah? Yeah, but what does that have to do with anything?” Peter questioned, his eyes trailed all over your body, forgetting that you could see his every move.

“Why would you…” You wrapped your coat around you in response to Peter’s gaze, “I’m just Tony’s assistant,” You stopped in your tracks, not able to get any closer to Peter.

“Why would I?-” His question fell short as he realized you had heard his quiet confession, “Oh,” Peter watched you nod shyly, “Don’t… don’t you want to get out of your clothes?”

“What?” You questioned, feeling your face heat up out of embarrassment.

“No- No! God, I just-” Peter stammered, “You said you wanted to change- I thought you could do that and maybe like, take off your makeup and then we could talk. Or, or we could do that in the morning- if you’re not hungover,” He repeated your earlier claim.

“Yeah… yeah,” You spoke, “I’ll go- I’ll go change,” You nodded, lips pressed together, “but, could you help me? These heels killed my feet,”

“Yeah,” Peter spoke, “Yeah, of course,” He was hesitant, hands reaching out. Peter hand touched you before, when he caught steadied you moments before, but now it felt different. Now you know, “Here,” Peter took in a quick breath before he slipped your large coat off of your skin. You almost looked nude, the dress under your coat was small compared to the coat’s large exterior. He folded the fabric before he tucked it under his arm, “and I can carry those,” He reached out towards your shoes that hung off of your curled finger.

“Thanks,” You smiled to yourself. However, your smile soon faded to a blank expression as you felt Peter’s fingertips on the small of your back. His hand soon flattened and you swore you could feel his sweaty palm through your thin dress.

***

The two of you silently made your way through an awkward elevator ride and stumbled your way to your room. Peter opened the door, watching you slip past him and into the dark room. You let out a loud sigh of relief after Peter shut the door behind him, “What?” He almost laughed.

“Feels good to be home,” You replied, “That party was a fucking nightmare,” You smiled, your lips quivered as you felt tears threaten to spill, “I didn’t want to go. I shouldn’t have,”

“Y/N,” Peter said, approaching you, he gathered a handful of your dress’s fabric, “Remember what I said,” The tone of his voice drew your attention. You never heard that slightly dominant tone pass through his lips before, “We can talk after. Okay?”

“Mhm,” You hummed, lips pressed nervously, “Right,” He began to hike up the fabric, the cool fabric tickling your thighs, “Peter,”

He had started helping you without a second thought. Peter was completely lost in you, functioning on autopilot. Your words brought him back to reality, “Sorry- I,” He turned, facing the wall, “I’m sorry- I forgot I was done helping. I got you here,”

You slipped the dress over your hips and past your chest, “Yeah,” You broke the silence, “but,” That word made Peter turn his head in time to check a glance of your exposed skin. The dress’s fabric covered your face as you slowly slipped it over your head. 

Could you see him staring? Peter took in the sight of your underwear and push-up bra for another second before turning his head back to the wall. His face must have been red. He felt his cheeks begin to grow warm. Peter also felt something else begin to grow and he hoped it was not noticeable.

“Could you help me?” You continued, now slipping a long, black night shirt over your skin. You wished you had anything else to wear to bed, anything sexier than an oversized shirt.

“Help with what?” Peter questioned, back still facing you. He watched as your room lit up a bit brighter from switching on the bathroom light.

“My makeup,” You almost groaned, “I’m too tireddd,” You placed your arms on the counter’s cool surface. Looking at your reflection you were reminded of the night you just had. Your mascara pooled under your lash line but you were still surprised Peter had noticed, “Peter,” You called out, hands covering your face, smudging your makeup even further.

Peter entered your small bathroom, taking in the space he had never seen before, “What’s up?” He watched as you blindly dug through one of your drawers. A pack of makeup wipes appeared in front of him as you leaned further onto the counter, a tired groan vibrating past your lips, “Okaaay,” Peter laughed, “Come’re then,” He took the pack, setting it down before he reached out. Turning you around, you faced him now. Your eyes were still closed from when you were rubbing your tired eyes, “Just one?”

“Mhm,” You nodded, finally opening your eyes. That is when you realized how close Peter was. You studied his hands as he peeled open the makeup wipes. His fingers were long and slender, making something in you stir. You focused on his fingers moving around the cloth in his large hands.

“Hey,” Peter spoke, taking hold of your face with his free hand, “I have to see your face to take the makeup off,” He laughed. The smile quickly faded as he studied your face in his hold, a look of embarrassment flooded his face. Peter realized not only how close he was to you, but was reminded just how pretty you were. Nervousness traveled up his spine, making him shiver slightly, “Right,” He spoke, clearing his throat as you stared back up at him.

His touch was gentle as he replaced his hand with the makeup wipe, making you jump, “cold,” you muttered, nervous at Peter’s closeness.

“Sorry,” Peter replied, rubbing the makeup off of your skin.

“Don’t look too close,” You laughed, “I’m not that pretty up close,” You chose your words wisely, not wanting Peter to think you were baiting for a compliment.

But that was exactly what was running through Peter’s head. Peter was trying to find the right words to say so he did not seem like he was as obsessed with you as he was, “I think you’re pretty,” Was all he managed to admit, watching your gaze snap right to his loving brown gaze, “I mean… I can move-  if you think I’m too close,”

“You think I’m pretty?” You mentally kicked yourself as the cliche question slipped past your lips.

“Yeah,” Peter nodded. Pretty was an understatement, “You’re probably the prettiest girl I know,” He tested the water.

“Nat and Wanda live here,” You spoke, “So I think you’re lying,”

“Nah,” Peter focused on your eyes, “Close your eyes,” He instructed, watching you do as you were told. He felt as if he should use this to his advantage, that way you could not affect him with your gaze, “I thought that since the day you got here. Plus, Nat and Wanda kind of scare me,” He watched you smile slightly.

“I don’t scare you?” You questioned, feeling his breath on your skin, making your lips press closed.

“A little, but in a good way,” He admitted.

“Yeah?” You laughed to yourself, eyes still closed, “And what is that supposed to mean?”

Peter did not answer, he was far too embarrassed and lost in the thought of you. The ‘good way’ was that it turned him on, “There,” He finally spoke as he studied your cleaned face.

“You didn’t answer my question,” You spoke, however your words fell short as Peter dragged the makeup wipe across your mouth.

“Sorry- Missed a spot,” He teased, watching you stick out your tongue at the bitter taste of the wipe.

You made your way to the sink, washing your face with cold water. Peter stood silently behind you, studying you through the mirror. Or you assumed so, not daring to meet his brown gaze.

“Sooooooo… you want to talk about it now?” He finally questioned as you dried your face off on a soft towel.

“About the party?” You questioned, hanging up the towel, “Or… about what you said? Earlier,”

Peter’s head fell, studying his fingers that intertwined, absentmindedly, “W-Whatever… whichever you want to first,”

Walking out of the small bathroom, you placed a finger on its light switch. You stared at Peter, waiting for him to follow you, “Yeah… whichever,” However, Peter did not budge, “That party…” You started, “that paaarty was… the worst night of my life,” You laughed before switching off the light. Walking over to your bed, you fell back onto it. However, you regretted it, feeling the alcohol move around in your stomach as your head spun, “...fuck. I’m so fucking stupid,”

“You’re not,” Peter interrupted.

Raising your head, you stared at him for a moment before your gaze returned to the ceiling, “I knew he was talking to someone else. I mean, I suspected it. Turning the phone away when I was too close. Locking it as soon as I entered the room. The lying… I could tell by the mannerisms, by his facial tics,” You groaned, “But you know… ‘he was different’... I was just into him because he barely gave me the time of day unless we were fucking,”

Those words clicked in Peter’s head. 

You were fucking that guy.

“The one time I mentioned him to Tony and he read him like a book and I just… God, I just didn’t want Tony to be right,” You somewhat laughed, “Because I hate it when he’s right,”

“You deserve so much better than that guy,” Peter spoke.

“What? I should be glad he fucking cheated on me? Glad that I showed up to the party, only to find him grinding on her ass and she was wearing the same fucking thing I was wearing?”

“Y/N,”

“What?” You heard the pity in his voice, “I don’t need you to feel bad for me-”

“I’m not- I just can’t believe anyone would do that to you. It pisses me off because if I ever had a chance with you I would never take advantage of it,” Peter admitted, “You’re way out of my league- and I bet you were for him too- and god if I ever fucked up like him I think I’d be the biggest idiot,” You stared back at him, a small smile sat on your lips, “...What?”

“You… actually do like me?” You questioned.

“Well… yeah,” Peter replied, red-faced, “I’m- I’m surprised you didn’t figure it out yet. I feel like I’m so obvious. Literally everyone here knows it,”

“I had no clue,” You almost laughed.

“Really?”

You both felt the mood shift, as Peter sat at the end of your bed, “Yeah… I don’t know. We hardly talked and when we do you always end up leaving… you know,” You rambled, staring at the ceiling, “I always thought I scared you or something, you know, because I just… don’t know how to talk to people really. Everyone I meet always goes off to tell someone they think I’m stuck up- Or if I don’t talk I’m a bitch,”

“I like hearing you talk,” Peter spoke, absentmindedly. Your eyes fell on him as he looked down at you, “You- You’re… interesting and really cool,”

“Y-Yeah?” You laughed somewhat at his awkwardness, “Well… thanks. You too- I mean, you’re cool…too,”

“I-I’m… not cool, like at all,” Peter looked surprised, “I’m super awkward and I like the dumbest stuff,”

“It's not dumb,” You picked up your head, “You’ll convince me to finish Star Wars one day,” You watched a grin curl his lips, “Really. I like it when you talk about stuff you like. I really like it,” You watched Peter’s hand move towards your face. His fingers brushed back some hair that sat out of place, “...My ex- Well he was always too cool to like anything. You know- one of those guys. He was too cool for everything…”

“How about we don’t talk about him anymore” Peter spoke. He stared at you, wanting to touch you. So he tested the water, running his fingers through your hair.

“Mhm,” You hummed in response, eyes closing with each pet of your head. Your eyes felt heavy as your body reminded you that it was probably around four in the morning.

“Do you want me to leave?” Peter questioned, catching a glimpse of your closing eyes, “so you can sleep,”

“No,” You admitted, “I want you to stay and keep touching my hair,” You heard Peter laugh from above you.

“Fine, but I need you to get on the bed more,” He stood up, waiting for you to position yourself on the bed from where you happened to just flop over.

You slowly got adjusted under the covers as you watched Peter walk towards your bathroom, “Is it okay if I use your bathroom?”

“Mhm,” You hummed again as you waited for him to return. You heard the light switch off as you felt your heart begin to beat faster at the idea of Peter sharing a bed with you, “You don’t mind staying, right? Is it weird?”

“No… I mean- do you think it’s weird?” He questioned, standing at the side of your bed.

“No,”

“Yeah… it’s fine then,” Peter almost held his breath as he entered your covers. He could hear your heart racing next to him, however it was almost overpowered with the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears.

Peter laid on his back as he felt you shifting by his side. He did not dare look your way, eyes fixated on the ceiling of your room as his eyes adjusted to the dark room.

“Goodnight,” You whispered from your spot next to him, feeling Peter’s body jump slightly from your quiet voice breaking the heavy silence, “sorry,”

“N-Night,” Peter replied, hearing you laugh to yourself from behind the sheets.

***

You stirred, as light from the room’s large windows broke your slumber. Your head was pounding as you tried to recall last night. That is when you remembered that the arm that was wrapped around you was Peter’s and not your ex’s.

Peter’s arm laid across your hip as you laid on your side, eyes staring at the wall, attempting to process what exactly unfolded last night.

You were not drunk. You remember every moment, but every moment felt like a dream.

Taking a deep breath, you turned to face Peter’s sleeping face.

Your gaze traveled across his soft skin, eyes bouncing from freckle to freckle. His lashes fluttered, looking as if he was still experiencing a dream.

Reaching out, you rested your hand on his side. You felt Peter pull you closer to him while he slept, “P-Pete,” You whispered, afraid of your morning breath.

“mmm,” Peter groaned as you shook him slightly, by his waist. You watched as he eventually stirred awake, “H..hey,” He spoke quietly, eyes barely open, “How’d you sleep?”

“Not as good as you,” You joked, as his hold on you tightened. Peter still drifted in and out of his sleeping state, “Since… you know. You’re all cuddled up next to me,”

“Hm?” He questioned, eyes finally opening, “Oh- Sorry,”

“It’s- It’s fine,” Your hand took hold of his shirt before he could attempt to move away from you. You stared at his face, his brown gaze refusing to meet your eyes. Every thought that bounced around your head told you to kiss him, hell, every cell in your body was inching towards him; grasp on the fabric pulling your bodies closer.

For a moment your gaze fell to his lips before your lashes fluttered shut, lips pressing against Peter’s for a forceful kiss.

Taken aback, Peter’s eyes widened before they squeezed shut as he attempted to hold back the lust that began to flood through him, “Hey- he- hmm,” Peter hummed against your lips as your kiss smothered any word that attempted to leave. He kissed you back, hands traveling underneath the hem of your shirt’s large fabric.

His sweaty palms traced your curves, studying you even behind closed eyes. Peter felt himself begin to be swept away, worried he would not be able to resurface. Pushing you away by your hip, he attempted to pull out from your hungry kiss, “Hey… Y/N,” Peter watched as your mood shifted almost instantly, looking as if your heart had shattered all over again from the night before, “No- no, it’s just- Y/N I won’t be able to stop,” Peter attempted to explain, “Y/N, I want you… I think about it more than I’d like to admit and it always ends up with me not being able to help myself…”

“I want you… Peter,” You thought for a moment, “I need you,”

“I don’t want to hurt you like he did… or worse,” Peter thought about his strength.

“You won’t. I know you wouldn’t hurt me,” You sat up, watching Peter roll onto his back. Picking up a leg, you swung it over his own, straddling his waist. You were never this forward, but you were always this desperate.

You always had feelings for Peter, you just never thought someone like him would reciprocate.

With that thought, you felt Peter’s hands grasp the plush skin of your thighs, “You- You’re sure?”

“Please,” You breathed out before Peter flipped you on the bed, pushing your face into one of the bed’s plush pillows. You felt as he hiked up the fabric of your shirt, exposing your panties to him. His dominant palm rubbed circles on the side of your ass before you heard him take a deep breath.

This time, it was time for you to take in a breath as Peter began to pull the fabric of your panties down.

You would be lying if you said you were not self continuous about Peter seeing your body for the first time in such an intimate way. The entirety of your last relationship had you on edge, hoping you were good enough.

Suddenly, the bunching fabric halted, making your breath stop as well, “Relax,” You heard Peter speak. Bending over your back, Peter planted a kiss on your ear, making you shutter.

“I- I just… he really messed me up I think,” You laughed to yourself, “so. So I don’t think you could ever hurt me more than him,” As the claim left your lips, Peter flipped you back onto your back, “Pete-” You heard the tearing of fabric as Peter, literally, ripped your panties off your legs.

He shifted down on your bed, ignoring your claims to the torn fabric. Peter’s heart was beating out of his chest as he grew closer to what was hidden behind the silky fabric. Placing his hands on your knees, he spread your locked legs, “Hey,” He watched as you locked eyes with him and that is when he felt a switch flip in him, “I don’t want to hear you talk about him anymore,” Your wide eyes stared back at him, “Okay?”

You nodded.

“I want to hear you say it,”

“Okay…” You mustered the courage.

“Okay? Okay what?” Peter’s fingers trailed along your skin. Closer and closer to your wet folds. His touch circled you almost teasingly.

“I won’t talk about him anymore,” You answered.

“Good,” Peter almost smiled, but there was a newfound cockiness behind his words. His thumb brushed against your clit, “Why shouldn’t you?”

“What?” You almost whimpered, wanting the teasing to end.

“Why shouldn’t you talk about him anymore?” 

“I… I don’t know,” You spoke with frustration. However, Peter’s gaze made you think about giving a better answer, “Because… because I deserve better?”

“Is that a question?”

“No…” You whined as Peter gently thumbed your clit, however it was not enough, “Peter please,”

“Fine,” Peter smiled at your desperation. Lowering himself, he placed your legs over his shoulders. He took in the sight before him, fingers running through your wet folds, “You’re so wet... You like it when I tease you or something?”

“...No- it makes me mad,” You spoke, unfiltered, not wanting to focus on the fact that Peter was seeing your flaws so up close.

“I don’t know, I think you like it,” He spoke, inserting his index finger into you, watching you wither in front of him, “So pretty,” Peter spoke under his breath. He listened as you attempted to hold back a few quiet moans, “You sound so pretty… wanna hear you,” Curling his fingers, he hit you at a different angle, making your eyes roll, head rolling back into your pillow, “Yeah?” He almost laughed, “Right there?”

You nodded, knowing if you parted your lips, you would not be able to shut up. However, Peter had other plans, his fingers moving in and out of you even faster. “FFffuckk,” You moaned, eyes screwed shut, “Pete-” His name was cut short, interrupted by a louder moan as Peter’s lips found your clit. He gave it a wet kiss before his tongue explored you.

Your ex never did this, and if he ever did, the foreplay lasted only long enough to make sure you were wet for him. Mentally, you kicked yourself, finding your brain occupied by your ex even though Peter just told you to not talk about him, “Are you thinking about him?” You heard Peter ask like clockwork.

“W-What?” You stuttered, opening your eyes. Looking down, you meet Peter’s dominant gaze.

“You stopped moaning,” Peter spoke, “Your eyebrows are all… furrowed- and not in a sexy way,” He added an extra finger into you, hearing you moan at the action, “I can stop- If you’re not over him I’d rather stop than you think about him the whole time,”

“No- No… Sorry,” You breathed out, “I- I know you told me not to talk about him but- I… I was just thinking about how he never… he never did this,” You rambled as Peter’s fingers still pumped in and out of you slowly, “fffuck- and- and I just-”

“Guess I’ll have to make up for lost time,” Peter somewhat joked before his lips returned to your clit. He placed a wet kiss between your legs before he continued to pleasure you.

“Please,” You breathed out, almost relieved. You were relieved that you no longer had to beg for anything you deserved, because Peter was ready to give it to you instantly.

A shaking moan passed through your lips as Peter inserted a finger into you. He was slow at first, taking in your small, breathless moans; however he found his hunger for you growing.

He continued to work you with his mouth and finger, before inserting another digit. Pulling away from your heated skin, Peter spoke, “I wanna hear you say my name,” He breathed out.

“W-What?” You stuttered through your waves of pleasure.

“Wanna hear you say my name,” Peter repeated, “And I never want to hear you say his again,”

“Mm,” You groaned at his dominance.

“What was that?” Peter questioned, slowing his fingers that pumped in and out of you. It pained him to do so, he wanted to please you desperately, but he also wanted to prove his point.

“Yes,” You breathed out, “...please,”

“Please?” Peter questioned.

“Pleaseee,” You drew out, mustering the courage to speak his name in such an intimate setting, “Peter,”

“Good,” Peter’s lips curled into a subtle, cocky smile. His fingers found their previous pace before pumping even faster.

“Ff-fuck,” You moaned. You heard Peter hum in response, as if he was questioning you, “Peter,” You repeated his name. With that his smiling lips return to your clit, his tongue only increasing your pleasure, “I- I’m so close,”

“Need you to cum for me,” Peter spoke quickly before returning between your legs. He found a rhythm that made you a stuttering mess, and stuck with it.

“I’m- I’m going to cum,” You moaned, hand falling between your legs. Your fingers tangled in his soft, brown locks. Your hips jutted, meeting his tongue halfway with each thrust. You felt as if you were losing your mind, not sure when the last time you experienced this much pleasure was, “Fuck Peter- I’m-” Your words fell short as you came. Your eyes screwed shut as Peter continued to taste you. Waves of pleasure jutted through you, making your body twitch with each stroke from Peter’s tongue, “f-f fuck- too… too much,” You breathed out, hands trying to push Peter’s face away from you.

“Sorry,” Peter spoke, crawling up your body. He fell to his side, laying next to you on the bed, “How was that?” He watched your chest rise and fall as you attempted to catch your breath.

Small laughter fell from your parted lips as you realized just how long it was taking you to recover from the pleasure, “I… I haven’t felt like that in… well, in a long time,”

“And that’s a good thing? It was good?” Peter questioned, hoping that his attempt would make you forget all about your ex.

“No- Yeah,” You breathed, “I haven’t cum that hard in awhile,” You added, “Just… just give me a minute and we can keep going,”

“Keep going?” Peter questioned.

“Yeah. I mean, you’re probably really hard,” You spoke, “or… I hope you are,”

“Yeah,” Peter laughed, “I am. But we can stop,”

“Why?” Your head turned towards him from where you stared at the ceiling, “Do you not want me anymore?”

“What? No- I mean. I want you,” Peter spoke, “I really want you- but I. I want to take things slow… with you,” He studied your worried expression, “If that’s okay,”

“Oh… yeah,” You nodded, “I just. I thought you’d want me to return the favor,”

“Another time,” Peter spoke, “I’ll be waiting- but no rush,” He watched you laugh to yourself.

Peter was the kindest person you have met in a long time and it made you wonder why you even settled for anyone else.

“Fine,” You agreed, “but I thought you ‘wouldn’t be able to stop yourself’,” You almost teased, watching Peter roll onto his back next to you.

“Yeah, yeah,” He laughed.

“Yeah… so forgive me if I thought something was wrong,” You spoke sarcastically.

“I just- I didn’t want to do whatever he did,” Peter spoke, “Because I like you and I don’t just want to fuck you,” Peter spoke, “I just want you to understand that. And I want you to have time to get over him,”

“Thanks,” You spoke quietly, “...You wanna go make breakfast?”

[totheblood]

lovefool | tom holland

summary: tom is your best friend's brother and you have nooooo idea how you got here.

↳ best friends brother au genre: implied smut, fluff, angst if you squint

word count: 1.7k+

song inspiration: lovefool by the cardigans

You had no idea how you got here.

Actually, that was a lie. You had a really good idea of how you got here. In fact, a few months ago you planned to be right here, on your best friend's couch, your lips intertwined with his brother’s. You knew that if he had found you in this position, with his brother's knee planted firmly in between your thighs, that both you and Tom would be dead. You should stop, you thought to yourself. You knew this could hurt Harry but yet here you were still allowing his brother to practically deflower you with his kneecap. 

You should stop, your mind rang again as Tom’s hands moved from your ribcage to your waist. Whatever air he was breathing out was now your own, the space between you two practically nonexistent. He smelled of lemon and sandalwood and tasted like spearmint, but when he bit down on your lip all you tasted was the sour taste of your own blood. He wasn’t as gentle as you thought he would be but that didn’t stop you any less.

You should stop, your conscience reminded you as he started to make his way down your neck with only his mouth. He was panting and nipping at your skin as if he was starving and you were the only one around, every little noise you made making him smirk against your skin as if he knew what he was doing to you. He was pressing you into the cushions below and you were convinced that the minute you got up the shape of you and him would remain there for years to come.

You should sto-, your mind tried to tell you but was cut short by him sucking on the sensitive skin behind your ear.

Fuck it. 

It had been a week since you hooked up with Tom and despite your best efforts you couldn’t help but feel guilty about it. Harry was your best friend, the person you told everything to, and every moment you spent around him was another moment you felt like you were lying to him. He wouldn’t mind, you tried convincing yourself, but even your own mind laughed at the thought. Your mind flashed to a time where he was punching the shit out of a guy ten times his size because he thought he grabbed you too hard.

It wasn’t like he was in love with you. He was in a happy and healthy relationship with your other friend Angi and he almost always referred to you as his little sister, even though you were older than him. He found you at a particularly rough time in your life and you understood that him meeting you under that circumstance forced him to play a protective role in your life.

On top of that his relationship with his brother wasn’t the best. They had an on-again off-again relationship, being each other's best friends one minute, and tearing each other to shreds the next. You couldn’t begin to understand it, but it wasn’t your place in the first place. So when he needed to vent, you were there. And when he needed to ditch you to hang out with Tom, you understood.

So here you sat in this shitty dive bar across from Angi, giggling with her about various stuff, the liquor now getting to both of your heads. It was nice being out with her getting tipsy off of two dollar margaritas and getting to catch up on the boring stuff that happened to you during the week when you weren’t able to talk. It was also serving as a distraction, your mind not wanting to discuss what you were keeping from Harry and what you did with hi- fuck, was that Tom?

“What is Tom doing here?” You slumped in the booth, taking a large swig from your straw and draining the cup. 

“Oh, I invited Harry and I guess they’re friends again because he asked if he could bring him along.” Angi replied matter of factly as you sat there with your eyes trained on him. You watched as he maneuvered his way through people, smiling and waving at the bartender before his eyes locked on you. Even though the expression on your face was now leaning toward fear as he moved closer, he had the cockiest smirk on his face as he approached you.

“Hey Angi,” He smiled as he slid into the seat next to you and you watched as Harry sat next to Angi and pressed a gentle kiss on her cheek. You smiled at the interaction but that smile quickly fell as Tom turned to face you in his seat. His face was just a few inches from yours and he allowed his knee to knock against yours.

“Y/n.” He stated simply, smiling at you like his brother wasn’t right there across the table from you. You didn’t even realize how tightly your hand was gripping the wooden seat of the booth until he brushed his fingers along your knuckles and you instantly relaxed.

You glanced over at Harry whose full attention was on his girlfriend which allowed you to take a breath of relief.

“Hi, Tom.” You whispered back, allowing a smile to grace your face. With that grin the tension in the room dissipated and you allowed yourself to relax. You were just talking to your best friend's brother, nothing weird about that.

“I missed you,” he whispered, looking down to where his hand was still lightly placed upon yours. He moved his hand down, allowing his pinky to interlock with yours. “Have you been getting my texts?”

Yes, you thought, but you didn’t want to let him know you were actively ignoring him because you felt shitty for allowing him to fuck you. 

“I’ve just been too busy to reply this week.” You lied through your teeth, hoping he wouldn’t notice your sharp intake of breath. But he just hummed in response, and got up to get a drink from the bar.

The night when smoother than you thought it would, the lights getting more blurry with each drink you took. It was like everything everyone said was getting increasingly more funny as the night went on and your body grew warmer. You would occasionally laugh so hard that you had to lean your head on Tom’s shoulder. Well, you didn’t have to, but you really really wanted to. And Tom would welcome your warmth by leaning his head on top of yours, and from what you could tell, Harry didn’t mind.

But as time went on, you only got more drunk which meant you grew more tired and needed to get home to the warmth of your own bed. 

“I need to leave.” You managed to slur out randomly as you tried stepping over Tom in the booth, only managing to trip and nearly fall flat on your face if it wasn’t for Tom’s arm firmly pulling you back up.

“Woah, there. You’re not going to go home by yourself, are you?” He questioned glancing over at Harry and Angi, who were a lot more sober and staring at you with wide eyes.

“Mate, why don’t you take an Uber home with her?” he suggested, glancing in between you and his brother. “Me and Angi want to stay, plus I have to take her home later.”

Tom gave him a look that asked him ‘are you sure?’, but all he did was nod back in response, giving him a tight lipped smile. With that confirmation Tom moved out of his seat and pulled out his wallet to place a few twenties on the table. “Nice seeing you Angi.” He smiled as he turned to walk you out to where your Uber was already waiting.

As you both piled into the backseat he laughed as your head smashed into the window. He nudged you with his arm as he watched you carefully, waiting for your eyes to open in acknowledgment. You could only manage to open one eye to look at him, but when you did you were filled with warmth. He was looking at you like you held the world in your head and you tried to remember the last time someone looked at you like that. You don’t think anyone ever has.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you slurred out, your voice slightly muffled since your face was smashed up on the glass.

“Like what?” he questioned cluelessly.

“Like I’m the only person in the world.” You stated, now mustering up the courage to sit up straight and stare right back at him.

“You are.” he said much quieter, his hand moving to hold yours for what felt like the millionth time tonight. “To me at least.”

You felt flustered, not only were you way past drunk, but here was the person you had been pining after for years telling you that you were the only person that existed to. You understood the implications of that. There was a pleasant isolation that came with liking someone. You woke up thinking about them, and when you closed your eyes they followed you into your dreams. They appeared in your favorite movies, your favorite songs, and even on the pages of your favorite book. You knew that feeling because for so long that is what you felt about him. He was the end all and be all of the human race and your heart grew ten sizes when he walked in a room. That’s what you felt like at least. 

“I liked being with you,” you started, not sure what you were trying to convey “not just sexually, but like, romantically.” You looked down where he was squeezing at your hand, a soft laugh coming from his lips that seemed to mix with the sound of the car engine.

“I like being with you too.” He whispered back, now scared he was sounding like a schoolgirl. “So why have you been ignoring me?” he asked firmly. As you opened your mouth to speak he began again. “The real reason.”

You gave him a half smile before pulling your hand from his. “Because of Harry.”

He looked puzzled for a minute before the realization hit him. “But Harry knows.”

taglist and mutuals: @sxfik @olsensnpm @userholland @gwenscindys @spideyspeaches @cocoamoonmalfoy @venomsilk @spvilers @petereading @honeyspidey @spideyobsessed @vendettaparker @erule @4ppurrr @vxid42 @wildholland @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @lovebyceleste @mayal0pez @ariianelle @keanureevesisbae @ghiblijoons @peterparkoure @starstruckspring @willie-ivy @spideyy @seaveysinn @simplyparker

[cameronspecial]

Peter Parker's Masterlist

Oneshots:

What Lies Beneath (Stark!Reader) 

Bad Boy’s Crush - Part 1 (Bad Boy!Peter)

Bad Boy’s Girlfriend - Part 2 (Bad Boy!Peter)

[upindreamland]

I'll forever love you... - Peter Parker

Peter Parker x fem!reader (she/her pronouns) text imagine

Summary: Loving someone comes with sacrifices. Who would have thought that sacrifice would be ending your relationship... (angst)

Warnings: Mention of cheating (but gets kind of better at the end). Let me know if I missed anything.

AN: Wow... well I wrote this when I was going through a similar situation so this hits close to home. I hope you enjoy!

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AN: Well that's it. I hope you enjoyed reading. As always let me know what you thought. Reblogs, likes, and comments are appreciated. Thanks!

[starryevermore]

alright, babygirl. finally worked this out- can i request my man peter parker with a pregnant (emetophobic) reader with him comforting her and keeping her sane through the pregnancy and also how he helps with other common pregnancy issues like swollen feet and back issues and lifting heavy stuff (maybe feature something of them decorating baby's room 🥺)?

- ☕

peter taking care of pregnant!reader ✧ peter parker

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

request: alright, babygirl. finally worked this out- can i request my man peter parker with a pregnant (emetophobic) reader with him comforting her and keeping her sane through the pregnancy and also how he helps with other common pregnancy issues like swollen feet and back issues and lifting heavy stuff (maybe feature something of them decorating baby's room 🥺)? - ☕ - quinns-wndrlnd

pairing: peter parker x pregnant!fem!reader

word count: 292

warnings?: pregnant!reader, fluff

peter would be the most dedicated partner when you’re pregnant. he was already a wonderful partner, but once he finds out you’re having his child, he makes sure that he takes every step to be the best father he possibly can. 

peter hadn’t had the greatest of luck in the dad department. his own father passed away when he was young. then his uncle ben had passed away, too. even his mentor tony stark passed away. 

but peter swore he would be the best father he could be. 

he’d bought practically every parenting book he could find (or, at least, the ones that were the most highly recommended). he attended every doctor’s appointment. he ran out to get any food you were craving. 

when you were suffering from bad bouts of morning sickness, he was there to hold back your hair, to rub your back. 

though peter didn’t look it in the same way his fellow superheroes did, he was incredibly strong, so when your feet ached, he carried you everywhere you needed to go. 

he would rub your feet and ankles when they were swollen. he would give you back massages when you would come home from work. 

peter even took up cooking lessons so that you wouldn’t need to be up on your feet for very long. 

and, oh, when it came time to decorate the nursery, that might have been peter’s favorite part of it all. he loved picking out the paint color, the decorations, the crib. he loved every part of it. he loved knowing that he had a future with you, that the two of you were bringing life into the world. and he couldn’t wait. 

but, of course, the part he loved the most was you.

[imanativeofswlondondahling]

Hey I loved your "becoming a stark" and love your "being a stark" series. You are a very talented writer and are fixing my broken Tony heart bit by bit. (still missing Nat tho). Could you pretty please tag me on any further chapters of "Being a stark"? 💕

I would love to, however I completely forgot to continue posting here, so there’s actually many more chapters on my AO3 profile like at least 5 right now, but I’m working on the next one too!

[blissfulparker]

Can I have ❝  i’ll be here the whole night okay?  nothing will get to you while i’m here.  ❞ Or ❝ can you just…stay here? and hold me. ❞ (both from the prompt list). Or both, whatever’s easier. Thank you so much 😊<33 I’m so happy you’re back.

I’m going to write this with peter if that is okay! And thank you so much! I am happy to be back and writing I am a bit rusty(the only writing I’ve been doing are papers and articles for school) but I hope to be better again soon!

Cozy night prompt list🧸

With the latest threat on queens you had been a bit uneasy. The spill of new villains and peter keeping his hands full, you hadn’t seen him or even heard from him for a few nights and had worried constantly. Had he been safe? Had he been alive? Kidnapped? Bleeding somewhere? You wouldn’t know. Your only hope was that he slipped through the window in one piece.

With the new threat, you had been at risk. Like all of his enemies they scouted out what he had loved the most, you. You were the first target of the newest enemy which caused peter to hide you away.

The day quickly turns into night as you use the sounds of the news to drown out your worries, hoping there would be some sighting of Spider-Man for them to report on. The kitchen smells of herbs and slightly burnt oils as you try out a new recipe. every few seconds you glance over to the window to see if your boy has slipped through.

With a little bit of a longer wait, you hear the squeaking sound of the window tearing up and see the red and blue suited boy come through the window with a huff leaving his lips out of breath.

“Peter!” You sigh, dropping everything you rush over to him. Wrapping your arms around his body tightly he returns the love with his only slightly tighter.

“I’m okay, I’m okay.” He reassures before pulling back. “Are you okay?” He holds your face and you furrow your brows.

“Am I okay? I’ve been locked up in here! The question should be are you okay?” You ask even though he had already told you—you didn’t exactly believe him until the suit came off—you still knew to ask.

“I’m okay, see? All in one piece.” He presses his suit for it to fall off. Few scratches and marks litter his back but nothing serious.

But the most important question has yet to be asked, “c-can you just stay here? And hold me. Maybe? No more patrol for the night.” You eagerly hope as he turns to you, only in underwear, a weak smile rises to his lips.

“I’ll be here the whole night okay?” He walks up, resting his hands on your cheek seeing the worry in your eyes. “Nothing will get to you while I’m here.” He presses a kiss to your forehead with dry, cracked lips that desperately needed to be cared for just like the rest of him.

You smile, resting your forehead to his just taking him in for the first time in days. He was yours, right here he was all yours and nothing would happen to you. Nothing would—

“What’s that smell?” He asked as he lifted his forehead from yours. The moment ruined as you could smell the burning kitchen whipping your head around to see smoke coming from the oven.

Quickly rushing to take out the attempted lasagna and turning off the stove, you look at peter with a sorry look before sighing.

“Does your superhero abilities expand to cooking?” You joke and he walks over to your phone on the counter.

“I’ll order take out.” He suggested and you nod as you grab the phone from him.

“Or you shower and I order takeout. You kinda stink.” You tease and he pretends to be offended.

“I thought you said I was sexy after patrol?” He comes closer, your thighs touching the counter.

“You’d been gone for six days. I haven’t even known where you’ve been Pete, how do I know you’ve been showering? How do I know you’ve been eating a-and safe and—“ you start to ramble and he lets his hands fall to your shoulders.

“I was safe, I-I had to stay away. I can’t risk anyone following me back here, not until everything is taken care of okay? I can’t have anything happen to you…I can’t loose you.” He swallows hard and you nod knowing how much he had been through.

“I know.” You sigh. “So let’s just get food and go to bed yeah? Please?” You redirected the conversation to where it originally started.

“Yeah.” He kissed your lips for the first time in the past six days before walking off to the shower.

When he comes out fresh and clean you already have the Thai food that was his favorite ready. His hands never left you the entire night and he checked at least four times to make sure the doors and windows were locked. After that he was all yours, holding you making sure nothing happened to you both. he couldn’t risk anything happening to you.

[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

[shawnxstyles]

MORE DOCTOR PETER PLSSSS

fucking finally i finished this like i’m such a procrastinator

the only one / 6.3k / one-shot

11 p.m tonight

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Secret Admirer

Pairing: Peter Parker x Teen!Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: jealousy, minor angst, mostly fluff

Summary: Peter always has to one-up you in everything he does. He always finishes a quiz before you. He gets better grades than you. It's infuriating. Then you catch him doing the one thing that makes you rethink how you feel about him.

Squares Filled: pretending not to care for @spider-man-bingo

Author’s Note: i didn't specify which peter parker is here, so you can imagine any of the three for this story!

x

Class could not go by any slower than it is now. It feels like you have been in here for hours even though it’s only been thirty minutes. Math is your favorite subject because you excel in it, so you’re confident to raise your hand when the teacher asks a question.

“Yes, Y/N?”

You open your mouth to answer when you hear someone chime in from behind you. Pete fucking Parker. The bane of your existence. The boy who makes your blood boil. The boy who thinks he’s too smart to be there.

“Fifty-three?” Peter answers like the teacher called on him or something.

“Thank you, Y/N,” the teacher says and turns around to write on the whiteboard.

You look behind you at Peter with a glare. He always has to chime in and give the right answer even though you know it. It’s like he wants to prove how smart he is with his stupid crooked smile, his bright eyes, and his shy exterior. He’s doing this on purpose. He has to be. 

“Alright, kids, it’s time for a pop quiz. You know the drill. Turn in your test at the front and wait for the bell to dismiss you.”

The teacher passes out a pop quiz for all the students to take, so you turn around and focus on your test.  Your teacher likes to give pop quizzes every Thursday, so is it really a pop quiz if everyone knows it’s coming? You scribble your name on it and start with question number one. You circle the right answer, going down the line until you get to the next page. You think you’re going at a good pace until you hear a chair screech signaling someone is getting up.

It better not be him. I swear to God if it is… Peter walks by your desk and places his finished test in the bin where the teacher wants it. You gasp silently at the thought of him being done only minutes after receiving the test. Sure, the test is easy and everyone passes them, but he can’t be done that quickly… can he? Peter catches your eyes with a smirk when he walks by you, and you roll your own out of annoyance. You’re not so annoyed at him being smart. You’re annoyed at the fact that Peter used to be so different before. You’re annoyed because you can’t figure it out.

After class is over, you head to the lunch room to meet our best friend, Amy. She is already at a table reserving your seat next to her. You grab the lunch special of the day and make your way over to her with a not-so-happy smile on your face.

“It’s Peter again, isn’t it?”

“He finished the pop quiz in minutes!” She shakes her head and stabs her salad with her fork. “Amy, you should have seen how cocky he looked. God, I wanna wring his neck.”

“Have you ever asked yourself why he gets on your nerves like that?”

“Yeah, because he’s fucking annoying, that’s why.”

Peter walks in after grabbing his lunch from his locker and meets up with his best friend. You forgot his name. They talk all the time but you’re not really interested in his friend. Peter is stuck inside your mind as you try to figure out what’s different about him. Your eyes are locked on him, studying his every move, trying to figure out his next step. He looks the same. He talks the same. He has the same friend. Yet there is something different about him, something more dangerous.

“You’re doing it again,” Amy nudges you.

“Something is up with Peter.  Something is different. He’s different.”

“Stop stalking your crush and eat your food.”

“Ew, he’s not my crush.”

“Mmhmm.”

You grab a carrot stick to munch on while keeping an eye on Peter. He walks with his friend to the table they want to sit at, trays of food in their hands. Flash is at one of the tables joking with his friends when he sticks his foot out to trip Peter, expecting his food to go flying everywhere. What no one expected is Peter to catch every fucking item back onto his tray like it never left it at all. The angrier you get, the more you gnaw on your carrot stick. Peter used to be so clumsy but it’s like he got an upgrade, and you need to know how he did it.

“You’re telling me you’re not the least bit curious as to why Peter got what looks like powers?”

“Not really,” Amy shrugs and keeps eating.

After lunch, you two make your way to your lockers which just so happen to be next to each other. You might have bribed your way into getting a locker next to hers but it’s worth it. You two can gossip in secret without anyone hearing.

“Do you think there will be a flower in there today?”

“Probably like there has been for the past week.”

You put your code into the lock and open your locker, staring at the beautiful single flower resting against your textbooks. Every day for the past week, a single flower has been left in your locker by someone anonymous. It’s always been a different flower that has not yet been repeated. There is no note, no indication of who put it there, or why. Yesterday, there was a pink rose and today it’s a purple carnation.

“I think it’s romantic. Someone has a crush on you,” Amy grins.

“What do I do? I have to find out who is doing this.”

“Well, when did it start?”

“Last week on Monday.”

“Isn’t that when the new flower shop opened in town?”

“Yeah.”

“Stalk that place. Whoever is getting you flowers has to be getting them from somewhere, and my bet is it’s from that place. See who stops by there after school, see what they buy, and if that flower shows up tomorrow, you have your answer.”

“This is why I keep you around. You’re the smart one.”

“Street smart. You’re book smart.” The bell rings to signal the next period, and she slams her locker closed. “I gotta go. Tell me how it goes!”

The rest of the day goes by without a hitch, probably because you don’t have another class with Peter. If you had, you’d be spending all your time obsessing over him. God, you sound like a desperate girl. You’re not. You’re just obsessed with finding out what’s different about him. Why hasn’t anyone else noticed this about Peter?

As soon as the final bell rings, you rush out of school like a bat out of hell. You want to get to the shop before the other students have a chance to leave, If you’re going to find out who is doing this, then you have to be the first one there. As if the universe is on your side, you’re the first one inside the flower shop. No one else is browsing which means it’s the perfect time to find a hiding spot.

“Hi! Welcome in! Do you need help finding something?”

You look up and see the friendly female cashier.

“No, thank you. I’m just looking.”

“Let me know if you need anything.”

“Will do!”

You walk around the flower shop and admire the different kinds of flowers as you wait for someone to walk in. A few people come in over the next two hours but no one young enough to be in high school. You’re about to give up when the bell on top of the door rings to signal someone walked in. You look between two flowers and see none other than Peter Parker. You quickly hide in hopes he didn’t see you, and by the looks of it, he didn’t.

“Hey, Peter!” the cashier greets.

“Sandra. How are you?”

“Good! Are you here for another flower?”

“Yeah. Something different. Something I haven’t used before.”

“I saved a good bunch for you.” She walks to the back and retrieves a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Instead of handing him the whole thing, she takes a single flower from the bunch and hands it over to him. He takes out his wallet to pay but she waves him off. “It’s on the house.”

“Are you sure? I’d like to pay some time.”

“You can when you get the girl. Did she find your other flower?”

“Yeah,” Peter nods shyly.

“Are you ever going to ask her out?”

“I don’t know. I think she hates me.”

“Well, after she sees this flower, she won’t,” she winks.

Peter takes the yellow flower and leaves the store. If you don’t get home now, your parents will be mad. You sneak out of the shop and run all the way home, excited to see what kind of flower you’re going to find in your locker tomorrow. When tomorrow comes, the first thing you do is go straight to your locker. Amy is already by hers, putting her books into it and grabbing the one she needs for her first class.

“Hey, did you stake out the flower shop?”

“Yeah. Peter walked in and got a yellow orchid. A single flower. He and the cashier talked as if they had known each other for years.”

You open your locker and gasp when you see a yellow orchid sitting at the bottom of your locker. You grab it with delicate fingers and admire the bright color against your skin. Peter thinks you hate him. You don’t. Peter and his friend round the corner and head in the direction where you and Amy are. Maybe you can get over your obsession with finding out why he’s different and just enjoy his company. Peter looks up and sees you with the yellow flower he picked out yesterday with a huge smile on your face. You wait until he passes by you to say what you have to say.

“This is my favorite flower. I really like it.”

You don’t have to look at him directly to see the smile that comes onto his face. Different or not, Peter is still as cheesy as he was when you first met him.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[starlordsandrockets]

The Bet

pairing: college!Peter Parker x Reader: 18+ , fake dating

word count: 9k

summary: You find yourself in attendance of a Gala with Peter Parker as your (fake) date. The two of you end up making a bet: Peter tries to make you fall for him by the end of the night.

a/n: sorry, i found myself in the worst case of writer’s block i’ve had in awhile. ANYWAY, i hope this makes up for it

“All I’m saying is that you’re going to look ridiculous,” Tony spoke. The rim of an almost empty glass of whiskey sat against his smiling lips, “Even Nat’s bringing a date and you two are two sides of the same coin. I don’t see how you can’t put up with a man for just one night,” Your gaze made him choke on his drink slightly, “or, or a woman?” He questioned, unsure of the reason for your deadly glance.

“I-I could get a date,” You stuttered, bringing your own glass to your lips. You crossed your legs, the black dress sat tightly against your knees. A pair of equally dark heels sat on your feet. The shoe dangled off your elevated foot, “I just chose to go stag, more of my vibe, you know,” You laughed it off.

“You’re a real lone wolf,” Tony spoke, “Are those still called bitches? Or is that just dogs?”

“Fuck off,” You groaned, finishing off your glass, “I’ll find a guy at the gala, alright. Spare me,”

“No, spare me,” Tony spoke, placing a hand on his chest dramatically, “Stark bringing along a virgin of an intern. All brain and no game,” He almost slurred, “But I guess that modest dress makes you kind of sexy in a mysterious way,”

“Forgive me for not breaking out my little black dress,” You told him, “It’s a gala. At an art museum, it’s not like we’re going to some night club”

“Oh, we’re not?” Tony questioned, “Then why are you totally pregaming with me right now,” He poured you another glass of whiskey with a shit eating grin.

“It’s the only way I can deal with you,” You admit with a smile, “This way you get a little more tolerable,”

“Glad we’re on the same page,” Tony spoke, raising another glass. However, his toast was cut short as someone caught his eyes, “Ah! Pete! Perfect, absolutely perfect,”

You turned your head, your loose, y/h/c waves twirling, “Come on, Mr. Stark,” Peter spoke, a sigh passed through his lips as he noticed Tony’s buzzed state, “There’s still like, an hour ‘til we leave,”

“Yeah! Perfect, enough time for you to have a drink with us,” Tony smiled, walking towards Peter. He took hold of Peter’s arm, dragging him into the lounge.

Peter wore a black suit, nothing fancy besides the luxury brand Tony had paid for. His hair was gelled into place and it made you laugh to yourself, “What?” Peter questioned as he heard you almost giggle. A subtle blush sat on his freckled nose. A drink found a way into his hand as he stared at you, “Mr. Stark, you know I won’t feel a thing from this,”

“Humor me, kid,” Tony spoke, “Er- us,” He motioned towards you.

You were reclined on Tony’s expensive couch as you bounced the heel that sat loosely on your foot, “Please, I’m being held here against my will,” You spoke, making Peter smile. You extended your arm, placing it on the back of the couch. Stretching, you pinched your shoulder blades without a thought. However, Peter’s thoughts were racing, the position pushing out your chest, drawing all of Peter’s attention to you. He did not think you could consume any more of his thoughts than you already did, but here he was. Knocking back whatever liquid was in the glass Tony had given him, he swallowed it in hopes of also swallowing his dirty thoughts. As he expected, it did not work.

“Y/N needs a date tonight,” Tony spoke as you took a large sip, making you instantly choke. The action was not comical, like in the movies and books, but had you embarrassingly gasping for air and coughing up a lung, “As charming as she is in this very moment, do you think you could do me a favor and not let her show up like that,” Tony spoke, “She’s my intern and I’d hate to have her overshadowed by me, and Pepper, of course. So what better than my intern showing up with my totally-not-an-Avenger, and totally real intern,”

“Are you sure this isn’t another, against her will sort of situation?” Peter questioned as you continued to cough, physically unable to say no.

“She’s not objecting,” Tony placed his hand on Peter’s shoulder, giving him a drunken shake.

***

“After the carpet, I’m finding the drinks and leaving your ass,” You spoke, “I don’t care if people think I’m alone, okay.”

“Yeah… right,” Peter spoke as he sat next to you in the long limo. The two of you sat somewhat isolated from the others. The group was paired off and in their own world, leaving the two of you to realize just how alone you really were, “Me too, I wanted to come alone anyway,”

“Me too,” You added, repeating your previous claim. Your hand found the vodka cranberry that the limo’s bar provided, “I’ve always been alone,” You informed as you brought the glass to your lips, “Why start now,”

***

You felt your stomach turn as the camera flashed. You had yet to place a single one of your black heels on the red carpet of the gala and you instantly regretted the drinks you downed to calm your nerves, “Hell no,”

“You’ll be fine,” Peter spoke, “They probably won’t even bother us if Mr. Stark’s around, not to mention everyone else,” He spoke, “Literally everyone but us,”

“That makes me feel so much better,” You almost laughed, “Thanks,” Your word was blunt. You were used to being in others' shadows. You rushed before Peter, wanting to spend the night the way you were used to: alone.

“Hey,” Peter spoke, unsure how he had upset you. 

Since Peter could remember, you had always been standoffish, never reaching out for company at the compound. Always shutting yourself off in the lab, you would get your work done and leave if it was not too late of a drive. You would crash on the couch whenever Tony refused to let you leave after 1am. Tony never wanted to feel guilt of you overworking yourself in the lab only for you to fall asleep at the wheel on your drive home.

Peter recalled the sight of you sprawled out on the lounge’s large couch, a blanket tossed over you as it barely covered your exposed skin. Peter could not help falling for you after he caught that sight more than a few times. He had helped you through a few too many drinks, holding your hair as you emptied your night into Stark’s million dollar toilet. Peter was unsure if you remembered nights like that.

Peter knocked into you, bringing him back to reality as you stood frozen in front of the flashing cameras, “You’re Tony Stark’s intern, aren’t you?” Someone from the crowd questioned, voice booming over the other shouts, “Is it true you work on the Avenger’s upgrades?” The man asked.

“Y/N calls all the shots for Avengers’ upgrades,” Peter spoke next to you. Your head spun, not only from the attention, but towards Peter, “I- They’d be lost without her,”

He was not wrong. You fixed nearly all the flaws you found in Spider-Man’s suit. They were only flaws due to Peter’s way of thinking. Tony had designed the AI with himself in mind and not Peter, “Smile,” Peter whispered in your ear, sending a shiver up your spine. You could barely see, the white flashes blinding you. Reaching out, Peter placed his hand on the small of your back. Your lips parted, about to snap a sarcastic remark at Peter’s advancement, however, you felt his clammy hold through your dress’s thin fabric, making you smile.

***

“So,” You said, “You’d be lost without me?” Your question teased Peter as the two of you finally made your way into the gala’s main room.

“I can admit it,” Peter spoke, “I don’t have some weird complex like you, or Mr. Stark,”

“Don’t compare me to Tony,” You told him, still a little buzzed from not only the alcohol in your system but also the camera flashes, “God, if I get that bad kill me,”

“If you didn’t fix my suit, I might have by accident,” Peter admitted. He had eventually gotten the hang of his suit’s AI, however the changes you had made allowed him to fully master his potential, “but, yeah,” His words were smooth, “I would be lost without you, honestly,”

“Including now?” You questioned, now realizing you did not wish to face the night alone. Especially now that you have seen the amount of older men that would surely harass you if you found yourself alone, “so, leaving you behind would be a terrible idea,”

“Absolutely terrible,” Peter played along, a smile threatening to curl his lips. He knew your games and when you were hiding your true emotions, “I’m not sure if I could make it through this boring gala by myself. You’d be doing me a huge favor,”

“Yeah?” You questioned, “Then you owe me,” Your eyes searched for any amount of food you could ingest before you had more drinks to get you through the night.

“How is that fair?” Peter laughed, however, he had not made it known that he knew the facade you were putting up, “You know what, fine,” He gave in, “I owe you, whatever you ask,” As soon as the words left his lips he caught you smile, “No, no, no,” He rambled as he heard you laugh.

“Oh you can’t take it back,” You laughed, “This is going to be fun,” Peter followed you at your heels as you searched the huge gallery for food or drinks, “Maybe I’ll hold this over your head for a while,”

“Y/N,” Peter groaned, meeting your eyes. His regret faded as soon as he saw your smiling eyes and grinning lips. He was just glad that you were having a good time.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Your name was called out, attracting your attention as well as Peter’s to a man who seemed to be in his late thirties. He was cute. Peter must have read your mind, or maybe caught on to your swooning gaze, as his hand found the small of your back once again, “Pardon my interruption,” the man questioned Peter’s touch.

“No interruption,” You spoke, stepping out of Peter’s warm touch, “Just simply company, to get me through the night,” Peter stiffened at your words but your back faced him, unable to see the consequence of your claim, “Y/N Y/L/N,” You spoke, extending your hand.

The man smiled at Peter’s misfortune, “I’m glad to have caught you, I’m the gallery’s director,” He watched as your eyes lit up for a moment, “Phil Weston,” Phil introduced, “I was wondering if we could rent some of your work. Give you your own exhibition,” He watched as you stumbled over your thoughts before him, “Or should I be going through your assistant here?” He motioned towards Peter, “That’s what you are right?” He almost degraded.

“I’m a little more than that,” Peter spoke, unable to shine light on just how important he truly is. But you knew, he was sure you would back him up.

“Sure,” Phil spoke, “Well, Y/N,” Turning, he retrieved a tall glass from a woman who appeared behind him mid conversation. The glass of champagne made its way into your hand, your rings knocking against the thin glass. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small card, “Here’s my card,”

“Thanks Weston,” You smiled around the glass. Sticking the card between your two fingers, you flashed it to Peter, “Keep this safe for me,” You jokingly instructed, “assistant,” You heard Phil laugh as he departed.

“You’re ridiculous,” Peter spoke, not taking the card out of your grasp. The dark paper still waved in front of his face.

“Me?” You questioned with a bat of your lashes, with a smile you took a large sip of your drink.

“I know we’re playing a part here,” Peter spoke, “but you’re just standing there while that guy humiliates me,”

“I’m not playing a part,” You told Peter, “I call the shots, remember. And you owe me, I could have said something but then you’d owe me even more,” Alcohol coated your words as you studied the Avenger. A laugh bubbled between your lips as you began to tuck the business card into the small purse that sat at your side, “Forget it, Parker,” You informed, finishing off your champagne, “just help me find something else to drink,”

“I think you should eat something,” Peter spoke. Watching you walk away from him he reached out, taking hold of your wrist, “I mean, with how much you’ve been drinking,”

“Are you worried about me?” You asked with a sly smile, “I know you’re my fake date, but you don’t have to act like it,” Your eyes found a large table ordained with finger foods and drinks, “but I’ll humor you,”

“I just don’t want you finding yourself doing something you regret,” Peter spoke, thinking of Phil. He knew that you had more confidence when you drink. Hell, he hated it. You flirted with Peter almost every time you had one too many but in the morning the two of you could be mistaken as strangers, “Or make a complete fool of yourself,”

“That so?” You questioned as the two of you crossed the tiled floor of the museum.

“Wouldn’t put it past you,” Peter spoke from where he followed at your heels, “Little do you know, I have a decent amount of blackmail on half the compound. Sure it sucks that I can’t get drunk like the rest of you but, not going to lie, I think I have more fun watching you all make fools of yourselves,”

“What are you, a masochist?” You tease as you turn to him, drink in hand. You caught Peter’s stern glance, “Right, right,” You raised your free hand, retrieving a small sandwich, “See, food,” You stuffed the sandwich between your red lips, “Yum,” You spoke sarcastically, mouth full of food.

“How’d I land such a classy date?” Peter questioned, taking a drink from the table. He knew the alcohol would not affect his system but he did not want to look out of place.

“You wish you could land me,” You washed your food down with a large sip of wine.

“Ouch,” Peter spoke around his wine glass. He was unsure if he was just experiencing placebo from the wine but found himself speaking with newfound confidence, “I could land you… if I wanted,”

“Yeah?” You laughed, “I’d like to see that,” You admitted. You would be lying if you said you did not find Peter attractive. You have seen him at work, in the gym, you have seen him change in and out of his suit right in front of you. Peter might have not known but each time, you glanced at his toned body and mentally drooled. You would not mind if Peter pursued you, you just knew better. Peter was awkward and did not show much interest in you until tonight. He was just doing you a favor, keeping you company. He never spoke to you in the compound besides when he needed to, or when he said hello whenever the two of you passed each other in the large building, “But I know better,” You smiled, “know you better,”

“You think I won’t?” Peter questioned, watching you shrug your bare shoulders. He watched as another glass found its way into your hand, making his job a lot easier. You were a horny drunk and he was about to use that to his favor.

“Are you betting me?” You questioned almost excitedly, “Is this a bet? Please tell me you’re giving me another thing to hold over your head,”

“Sure, it’s a bet,” Peter spoke, taking another sip of wine, “But you have to be completely honest with me. No burying your feelings for me,” He informed, “Any time I ask, you have to tell me exactly how you feel,”

You almost gagged, but Peter was right, you should play fair, “Fine,” You rolled your eyes, feeling yourself begin to sway, “When’s the game start?”

“Right now,” Peter spoke, finishing off what was in his glass. Setting it down, he took yours from your grasp watching you shoot him an angry glance, “and you need to start off by telling me exactly how you feel about me,” His words were smooth, somehow forgetting that he normally had to build up the courage to just say hello to you but in this moment he was closing the space between the two of you, “I want to know what kind of a chance I even have,”

“I don’t think you have to work too hard,” You smiled, your lips beginning to numb. You stared up at Peter. Your eyes were able to count almost every freckle on his boyish face and god did you want to kiss them. Kiss him, even, “I’m kind of drunk,”

“Yeah,” Peter smiled, “I figured that much Y/N,” He whispered as if it was a secret.

“And it’s making you look cuter,” You whispered back, watching your words shoot through his heart like an arrow, freezing him in his tracks, “Even cuter than before,”

“Good to know,” Peter muttered to himself as he watched you take the wine glass back from his hand, your fingers brushing against his clammy hand.

***

“How’s the lone wolf holding up,” Tony questioned as he had excused himself from a conversation Pepper found herself in; checking in on you and Peter, but mostly you. Tony’s eyes followed you as you swayed, Peter’s hand supporting your lower back, “I see you’re holding her up,” He motioned towards Peter as you took another sip of wine, “How much has she had,”

“I lost count, but you know her,” Peter spoke, “She’s almost as bad as you,” He somewhat joked, watching Tony smile.

“I’m fiiiinne,” Your voice drew out, “I’m just bored, so I’m drinking. Sue me,” You groaned, turning to Peter, you studied him and how close he stood next to you, “Can we go dance,”

Peter’s eyes widened as he met Tony’s gaze. Tony sent him a suggestive gaze, “Yeah Pete,” He smirked, “You two should go dance, that’d be a much easier way to hold her up,”

“Pleaase,” You almost begged, “I can’t drink if I’m dancing,” You set your glass down, throwing up your hands in your defense.

“I guess that’s true,” Peter agreed, “Excuse us,” He spoke to Tony who sent him a lovey-dovey look, “Mr. Stark, please,” He muttered, leading you away from Tony and to the gala’s live string quartet.

“I love the violin,” You drunkenly gushed, “I’ve always wanted to play,” You twirled out of Peter’s hold as you entered the floor, bumping into a couple who slowly swayed to the sound. A laugh bubbled from your lips.

“I’m sorry,” Peter spoke, “Sweetheart, be careful,” He played along with your roles for the night.

“Hm, sweetheart?” You questioned as his hands fell against the fabric of your dress, “Out of all the pet names, you pick sweetheart?”

“What? You want me to call you dear? Like we’re sixty and unhappy,” Peter’s claim made you laugh, “I know better than to call you baby,” He spoke quietly, watching your nose wrinkle, “That’s what I thought,”

“It’s just so formal,” You teased, “I thought the gala was formal enough, but sweetheart? I’m swooning, darling,”

“Ah, darling,” Peter spoke as you brought a new pet name to light, “I still think sweetheart fits you,” The two of you moved in sync without a second thought as your conversation could barely be heard over the romantic strings.

“I know,” You smiled, “I’m a delight, the sweetest at the compound,” You played along.

“No,” Peter continued, “I think that’s Mr. Stark. But you’re a close second,” He spun you in his hold. His eyes studied you as you twirled before him, your hair bouncing as you smiled, a laugh falling between your lips. Your red lipstick no longer sat evenly on your skin from the amount of drink you had. Peter wondered if he should tell you, wondering if you wished to reapply the seductive red shade, however his eyes took you in instead, “You’re pretty,” The words slipped almost silently past his lips.

In an attempt to cover his claim, Peter pulled you back in, making your head spin. His action was quick, or so you thought, maybe you were just drunk, “Did you- did you just?” You stuttered, somehow his quiet claim made your heart flutter slightly. Peter’s dominant hand left the small of your back as it found its way to the side of your neck.

“How do you feel about me right now?” Peter questioned, it took everything in him to hold your eye contact, his body begging his gaze to fall to the necklace that sat against your skin.

You stared into his brown eyes, his gaze reflected sickly sweet puppy love back into your lone glance, “You called me pretty,” Was all you managed to speak, lost in Peter’s imploring gaze.

“Yeah… yeah I did. And how’d that make you feel?” Peter questioned, “Do you like it when I call you pretty?” He was no longer hesitant, realizing you probably will not remember most of the night, in the morning. Peter stared at your stunned expression, taken aback by his words, “You’re not saying no,”

“I’m just-“ You stuttered. The room twirled and you were unsure if it was from your moving feet or Peter’s sweet words. Returning to Peter’s hold, your hand fell to his chest defensively.

“I-I didn’t think you could get any prettier,” Peter spoke, words intertwining with the playing strings. Clearing his throat, he attempted to recover from his stuttered claim. Although he we determined to win your bet, you always managed to make him nervous, “Your hair looks nice curled and your eyes,” Peter rambled, “Your eyes are somehow making me more nervous than usual,” Your gaze was soft and intent, “and your dress,”

“Spare me,” You spoke, “Tony already gave me shit,” Your fingers fell from the fabric of Peter’s suit, touch trailing. Hand falling, it smoothed over the curve of your hip, “I guess I should have gone shorter,” Your eyes found a handful of women in short dresses.

“No-” His voice was almost desperate, “no- I mean. I like this dress,” He watched you raise your brows, eyes narrowing. Peter pulled you closer to him, building up the courage to express his next claim, “I’d rather think about what’s under it,” His voice was somehow smooth, “rather than seeing you in a short dress,”

“Y-Yeah?” You questioned, looking up at Peter’s blushed complexion. You felt your system warm, the alcohol still having an effect over you, “Want to see what’s under it?”

“W-What?” Peter questioned, his dancing pace slowing, “Y/N,” He laughed nervously. You were doing it again, being a horny drunk, “You’re drunk,”

“And you’re winning,” You admitted, “as much as I hate to say it,” The two of you stood on the dancefloor as the others danced around you. Your hands found their way to Peter’s chest, snaking up to his neck until your fingertips brushed against his warm cheeks, “You’re hot,”

“Y/N,” Peter spoke your name, as if he was trying to make sure that all of this was not a dream.

“Bathroom,” You interrupted.

“What?” Peter questioned, wondering if he heard you correctly, “Bathroom?” He watched you nod, feeling nerves rush through him, thinking all that alcohol finally caught up to you, “Yeah- yeah okay,” He helped you navigate your way off the dancefloor.

“Slow down,” You spoke, a little out of breath from keeping up with Peter’s gate in your heels.

Peter felt your fingers tickle against his skin, not realizing he had grabbed your hand to lead you through the crowds. He felt his confidence begin to crumble as he grew further and further away from the crowd.

The two of you traveled down the museum’s large stairs to the lower galleries and bathrooms. You felt the room begin to spin as you attempted to navigate the large concrete steps, “Shit,” You laughed, “These stairs are going to kick my ass,”

“Here,” Peter spoke, his hand fell from your hold. Reaching out, he wrapped an arm around you.

His hold steadied you but equally weakened your knees. Peter’s fingers dug into your shoulder as you looked towards him.

“What?” Peter questioned. Your gate slowed as you studied his face. You never thought he could get more handsome, but here he was helping you down a large staircase like you were some princess in a giant castle. 

Did that make him the prince? Of course it did.

“I’m fucked,” You laughed, your claim was under your breath, however Peter’s hearing still picked up on it.

The claim, unknown to him, was because you found yourself falling even harder for him; however, he thought you were about to get sick. Slipping his free hand behind your knees, he easily scooped you up, literally sweeping you off your feet.

“What are you-“ You felt your face heat up at the sudden advancement, “What if someone sees- there’s cameras-“

Peter did not respond, he was far too focused on getting you to the bathroom. The remaining flight of stairs passed quickly under his shiny black shoes. Turning the stair’s corner, he brought you to the bathroom door that was tucked under the concrete stairs.

“What-What was that?” You questioned, hands gripping Peter’s shoulder, while the other found his hand that gripped underneath your thigh.

“I- What? What do you mean?” Peter questioned right back, “I thought you had too much to drink,”

“I just wanted to freshen up,” You stared back at him, realizing just how close the two of you were.

“Oh,” Peter spoke, embarrassment reddened his ears as he stared right back at you. Walking towards the wall, he pressed your open back against the concrete wall.

“Pete-“ You vocalized as the cold wall touched your heated skin. Your back arched away and towards him in his hold. Realizing your tone, your gaze fell to the floor.

Peter watched as your chest rose and fell heavily in front of him. The skin of your chest was peaking out with each intake, and it silently begged for his lips. He wanted to kiss you- well, he wanted to kiss you every moment he spent with you- but especially in this moment. Rounding his shoulders he brought his face in front of your downturned gaze. He grew closer and closer with each passing moment, eyes fixed on your own. He breathed a shaken breath, palms growing sweating as he inched closer to your lips.

Like ripping off a bandage, Peter was quick and rough. His lips pressed against yours, pushing you against the museum’s wall. You groaned against him in response to the impact, before kissing him back slightly. However, before you could fully reciprocate, you heard a pair of heels descending the stairs.

“Peter-” You stuttered against his lips, hands pushing against his chest. You buried yourself further into the wall in an attempt to escape his advancement, “Get- Let go-” You watched as your words finally registered in Peter’s brain, his hands dropping you to the floor. You struggled to keep your balance in your black heels. Without a thought, you turned and rushed off into the bathroom.

You placed your hands on the porcelain sink as you stared at yourself in the mirror. If you were not wearing makeup you would have probably splashed your face with cold water, or hell, you would have even slapped some sense into yourself. Suddenly the sound of the bathroom door made you stand up straight. You did not dare to turn your head, to check if it was Peter. You watched as a woman, a little older than you, smiled at you through the mirror. You gave her a weak smile in return, head still spinning in response to the kiss.

You needed to pull yourself together. You were slipping right into Peter’s grasp, not that it was a bad thing, you were just way too competitive. You wanted to win. Opening your small purse, you removed your lipstick. As you applied the shade to your lips, you were far too lost in thought. Staring back at yourself, you were surprised to see that you had mindlessly applied the satin formula.

The woman who had made her way into the bathroom now stood next to you at the sinks. You rubbed your lips together, blending the color evenly, “Having a good night?” You questioned her, preparing yourself for any conversation you would have with Peter.

“Oh yes,” She smiled, washing her hands gingerly, not wanting to bump her diamond bracelets against the porcelain, “I’m sorry for asking- you probably hear this a lot but, what is it like working for Tony Stark?”

**

Peter rocked up and down on his expensive dress shoes. You were taking fairly long. Peter had already calmed himself down in the men’s room after your heated kiss. But now, he knew he would have had time to relieve himself instead. What was wrong with him? It would not have been the first time he had touched himself to the thought of you, but it still felt wrong.

He kicked at the concrete floor, frustrated that your kiss was interrupted so quickly. Suddenly, Peter was pulled out of his thoughts as you exited the bathroom with the woman. You laughed beside her as you locked eyes with Peter, “It was a pleasure talking to you, Y/N,” The woman smiled, lightly setting a hand on your arm, “I’m sorry for keeping her,” She spoke to Peter.

Peter nodded out of courtesy as the two of you watched her climb the large stairs, “What was that about?” Peter questioned, taken aback by the sound of his own voice.

“Oh,” You spoke almost too casually, “She was asking me about Tony. Wanted to know what he’s like outside of the public eye, you know?”

“Yeah?” Peter laughed slightly, “I can imagine you only said nice things,” He joked, knowing how you and Tony bicker, “Obviously,”

“Oh of course,” You joked back. You reached out, placing a hand on his arm. You watched Peter laugh beside you, leaning into you, and that is when you remembered the kiss. You must have visibly stiffened because it caused Peter to freeze as well.

“Y/N,” Peter spoke, watching you hesitate to meet his eyes.

You wanted to touch him, pull him against you and into the kiss that was so rudely interrupted. You wanted him to fill your free time, to watch his eyes squint whenever he smiled at your crude, dry humor, “You win,”

“What?” Peter questioned, laughing slightly. Then it registered, the smile faded on his lips and a slight red flush occupied his ears and cheeks, “Oh,”

“Yeah,” You nodded slowly, “It pains me to say it, but,” You groaned, “God I hate this,” You felt Peter’s fingers tickle the skin of your wrist. Your gaze flashed to the skin on skin contact and then the bathroom door.

“What?” Peter questioned again.

“Peter,” You motioned towards the door with your eyes.

“W-Wha- No! Y/N,” Peter stuttered, “No,” His voice was assertive as you almost pouted in front of him.

You bounced on your feet, silently pleading with him. He stood his ground, “Fine. But maybe I’ll change my mind later,”

“I don’t think you will,” Peter spoke, watching you physically wither, “Come on,” He took your hand and began to lead you up the staircase. You reluctantly followed at his heels, dreading what was to come next.

***

You have made it through three separate conversations with complete strangers, all while Peter’s hand rested on the small of your back. To make matters worse, you now locked eyes with Tony. The fake smile that once parted your lips completely faded in his presence, “The kid still needs to be holding you up?” Tony teased as you gave Pepper a genuine smile.

“Pepper, I don’t know how you put up with him,” You spoke, “Sadly I’m sober,” Tony raised a brow at your statement, watching Peter’s hand return to his side.

“I’m surprised she didn’t bite your hand off,” Tony smiled as a woman approached your group with a tray of champagne, “Thank you,” He spoke to her before he passed the group glasses. He brought his lips around the rim of the thin glass, “You starting to warm up to my intern?”

“He’s tolerable company,” You smiled back, taking a large sip of champagne, “Couldn’t say the same about you though,” The tension between you and Tony hung in the air as Peter and Pepper both apologized to each other silently.

“Why don’t we get some air,” Peter suggested, hand returning back to you. He watched you finishing what remained in your glass before giving him a pressed smile.

“Sure,” You nodded, “Nice seeing you Pepper,” Your eyes did not dare fall over to Tony. You watched his hold tighten on Pepper as Peter’s did the same to you.

The two of you made your way towards a secluded exit, avoiding the paparazzi that waited for everyone outside, “Can’t you just play nice for a night?” Peter questioned after your long silence.

“It’s not like- He does that shit on purpose,” You spoke, motioning back towards the door you found yourself outside, “He always has something to say- something to get under my skin. And it’s not like you stepped in and told him to stop,”

“I like seeing you all worked up,” Peter spoke, not realizing how his claim sounded until it passed through his lips. You looked up at him, “Not- Not in a weird way- Well-“ He stuttered. Peter did like it in a weird way. He liked seeing you flustered.

You watched Peter stumble over his words, his gaze falling off of you, “Mm,” You hummed, your tone was teasing.

“I said not in a weird way,” Peter spoke, watching you lean into his, studying his blushed skin, “Y/N,”

“How then?” You questioned, “I’m dying to know,” Bringing your fingertips to a hair that hung against his forehead, pushing it back into his gelled hair, “Your hair looks so dumb,” You teased.

Taking your wrist, he brought you around the building’s corner, out of sight from anyone who would exit the door. He listened to your mumbled complaints before he took hold of both of your arms. Peter pushed you against the concrete building. The cool surface made you hiss before Peter’s hands snaked up your arms to your face. He cupped your cheeks roughly as he brought his lips to yours for a second time.

And you were so glad he did.

Your hands found his black tie, tugging on it. You loosened the fabric, feeling Peter sigh out of relief. You do not know why you started undressing him, but now your fingers fumbled against his white shirt’s small buttons, “Hey, hey,” He almost laughed against your lips, “Slow down,”

“I just want to touch you,” You admitted, pushing aside the white fabric, studying the soft skin of his neck and chest.

“I thought you loved Prada,” Peter joked. He watched you study the suit. Your eyes scanned his body before falling right back to his skin. Little did you know, Peter had asked Tony specifically for a Prada suit after he heard you obsessing over their latest campaign.

“I-I do.” You spoke, “But… I told you- You win,” Your hands held both sides of his shirt’s collar, “Swing me somewhere,”

Peter watched as you pulled yourself closer, your eyes studying his lips. He was clearly an idiot, not acting on impulse. Peter had wanted you for so long, and he hated how this was all happening now, “I, I don’t have my suit on me,” He rambled, watching you pout in front of him. Words mumbled past your lips as you tried to protest, “It’s not like I can just swing you off as Peter Parker, Y/N, I’m an intern tonight. Right? So I can’t just swing you through the city to do whatever I want to you,”

The words fell from Peter’s lips, making yours curl into a subtle smile, “What would you do?”

“What?” Peter questioned, watching you lean back against the building.

“You’d do whatever you wanted to me?” You repeated, “What would you do to me?” Peter stood, disheveled in front of you. His once pressed and buttoned shirt was wrinkled by your hands.

Peter took a step back from you, “Please,” He mumbled, fixing the collar of his shirt. Your eyes studied him before wandering, “What?”

That is when you spotted Tony’s empty limo.

“Y/N,” Peter’s voice warned as you took hold of his wrist.

“Please?” You questioned, dragging him towards the parked limo.

“Someone will see,” Peter argued back, however, he still allowed you to drag him into the lot of limos and cars.

“Yeah, in a self driving, tinted, bomb and bullet proof limo,” Your words were sarcastic and the two of you neared the limo, “Friday,” You spoke, reaching out to the limo’s hidden keyboard.

“Y/N,” The system responded, “How may I be of service?”

“Unlock the limo please,” Your hand slipped from Peter’s wrist to his sweating palm.

“Mr. Stark has installed a security protocol for you entering the limo,” Friday explained, making you scoff, “The question is: Who is the world’s greatest boss?”

Your lips pressed into a line as you dreaded answering the question, “Tony Stark,”

“Incorrect,” Friday spoke, making you groan out loud.

Your hold on Peter’s hand tightened, “He made me say it and then- and then he just made the answer some bullshit I won’t figure out-“ You felt Peter’s fingers slip between your own, calming you for a moment, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Hey, Friday,” Peter spoke, “Hey. It’s- It’s me, Peter,”

“Hello Peter,” Friday spoke.

“Yeah, h-hi. Would you be able to let us in please?”

“Of course, Peter,” The two of you watched as the limo door opened.

Turning towards you, Peter studied your annoyed expression, “Still want to go in?” He questioned with sweaty palms.

“I’m not letting Tony kill the mood,” You scoffed, bending your shoulders in order to enter the low limo, “I bet he planned this,”

Peter followed you, listening to your mumbled complaints, “Friday, could you go offline? Please?”

”Of course Peter,” The system spoke, “All audio and video recording will be offline until further instructions,” You whipped your head towards Peter, pampered hair twirling slightly, “Uh- Unless you don’t want to do anything anymore,”. He felt his heart rate begin to accelerate as you crawled towards him on the leather seat.

“I thought there was so much you wanted to do to me,” You teased, watching Peter’s shoulders stiffen slightly, “Unless you don’t,”

“I do,” Peter spoke at an embarrassing rate, “I mean… yes,” His words slowed as he studied the fabric of your dress. His gaze trailed over the dark fabric until it found your neckline, the fabric dripping as you leaned in front of him. Peter quickly brought his eyes to yours, not knowing which sight made him more nervous.

“Okay,” You responded. Picking up your knee, you brought it over Peter’s legs. You slowly lowered onto his lap, “This okay?” You felt as if your heart could pound out of your chest.

“Yeah,” Peter chuckled nervously. Your actions were killing him and he did not know if he would be able to hold back. Peter felt the weight of you on his lap, hoping you would not feel just how hard you were making him. Bringing his hands to your thighs, he pushed past the soft fabric of your dress. The fabric pooled around his wrist as his hands trailed up your legs, “shit,”

“Peter,” His name fell quietly past your lips as you placed your hands on his chest, fingertips on his collarbones. You heard him hum in response to his name, “What- What are you going to do?” You attempted to keep up the act, however, being this close to Peter was making you crumble.

“R-Right,” Peter breathed out, feeling his lungs shake as he took in a sharp breath. He studied the skin of your neck as you stared at him. Peter closed the space between the two of you, lips finding the skin he had been studying. His kisses varied, some soft yet some hungry. Peter’s lips parted, his kisses becoming more sloppy as his fingers dug into your plush skin coaxing a whimper from your lips.

The limo air hung heavy with every heated kiss and breath the two of you exchanged. Bringing your hand to Peter’s head, your fingers took hold of his hair. You pulled him away from your neck before you brought your lips to his. Your kisses were equally as hungry and making up for lost time. Hands still exploring his hair, you raked through the gel that held it in place. 

You let out a sigh of relief as you messed with Peter’s gelled hair. A slight smile curled on your lips as you kissed him, “What?” Peter questioned, lips not even an inch away from yours. His eyes studied your smile, teeth appearing between your lips.

“Your hair,” You spoke, leaning back to study it, “Did Tony tell you to wear it like that?”

“N-No,” Peter replied, “I always put gel in. I just used more this time,”

“Yeah well,” You played with a piece of hair that hung out of place, “I like it better like this,”

“Yeah?” Peter smiled.

“Mhm,” You hummed, fingers running through his locks.

“Then I guess I’ll have you do my hair for the next gala,” Peter added.

“Okay,” You answered quietly, eyes now falling to his lips.

“Alright,” Peter smiled, leaning back into you. His lips found yours once more, finding the rhythm the two of you previously shared. 

Peter had no idea how he ever survived this long without kissing you. The feeling of your body and lips pressed against him was enough to drive him insane. He melted against you, fully giving into you. His touch continued to trail up your skin, fingers now tracing the curve of your hips and waist, “Y/N,” Peter breathed out, “Are we doing this? Because I feel like I’m losing my mind-“

“Y-Yeah,” You stuttered, coming back to reality, “We better hurry before Tony realizes we’re gone,” You watched as Peter’s brows furrowed for a moment, “What?”

“I want to take my time with you,” He admitted, “I’m not really a quickie kind of guy,”

“Quickie? What are you, a teenager?” You teased slightly, “You can have me when we get back to the compound,” Peter’s gaze fell from your eyes to the tinted window out of embarrassment, “Yeah? Sound fair?”

“Yeah,” Peter spoke, hands leaving your waist and falling onto the fabric of his dress pants. The sound of his zipper made you realize that you were actually about to fuck him and none of this was a dream, “Let’s make this quick then,”

You brought your lips to his in a rough kiss, pushing Peter’s back fully against the limo’s seat. You raised yourself off of Peter’s lap, allowing him to push the fabric of his pants down his thighs. Suddenly, you felt Peter’s finger push your underwear aside, finger running through your wet folds. This caught you off guard, making you jump, body freezing against him.

“You’re so wet,” Peter almost laughed, “How long have you been like this?”

“The Prada got me pretty quick,” You admitted slightly.

“Yeah?” Peter smiled, “It wasn’t the fake dating?”

“S-Shut up,” You stuttered as Peter’s touch returned for another swift motion between your legs, “We d-don’t have time for this,” You spoke, hoping Peter’s teasing would cease as embarrassment flooded your cheeks.

“Right, no foreplay,” Peter spoke, “Not that you seem to need it right now,” He teased, watching your brows furrow, “Right, right,” Peter spoke, pulling a condom out from the inner pocket of his suit jacket.

“You, you brought a condom?” You stared at the foil in disbelief, for some reason Peter’s action stirred the butterflies that sat in your stomach.

“Y-Yeah,” Peter admitted, “I have one on me if I ever think I have a chance with you… and also when I don’t,” Opening the condom, he attempted to distract himself from your quiet laughter above him.

The laughter continued to bubble past your lips. You were not laughing at Peter, but at how stupid you were for waiting this long to act on your feelings. Somewhere between your laughs, Peter had rolled the condom down the length of his dick.

“What?” Peter questioned your laughter as he pushed the fabric of your underwear aside.

“N-Nothing,” You stuttered, catching your breath from your laughs, “I just- I feel like I don’t deserve you,”

Reaching out, Peter covered your mouth. He somehow felt himself grow even harder as the claim left your lips. His dick bounced, attracting your gaze. You felt your face heat up as you took in the sight before you.

Removing his large hand, Peter caught you in a heated kiss. It was a kiss by definition, however it was sloppy and hungry with barely any rhythm to it. As you lost yourself in decoding it, Peter had lined himself up underneath you and began to enter you.

“S-Shit,” Peter stuttered at how tight you sat around his dick. You were so wet for him and he entered you easily, “fuck,”

“P-Peter,” You returned his stuttering, his name falling past your lips as you felt the size of him, “God- shit, you’re big,”

“Right,” Peter laughed as you gave him the classic, cliche line. But he was big and you were not sure if you could thank the spider bite for that or not. 

However, as the single thought crossed your mind, it soon left as Peter began to bounce you above him, his fingers digging into the skin of your thighs, “Ffffuck,” You moaned from the pressure of Peter’s hands combined with the rhythm he started.

“God you sound so pretty,” Peter groaned as his head tilted back against the seat’s headrest. Your hands, once bunching the fabric of his dress shirt, now traveled to his collar. Your fingers fumbled to unbutton his shirt, hungry for the sight of his soft skin.

As soon as the skin of his chest was visible, your shoulders rounded and lips attached to his collarbone. His skin passed your lips as your teeth marked him, earning a moan from his parted lips.

“Y/N-“ The pain from your mark making only made Peter thrust into you harder and faster, “shit,”

Your hands fell to either side of Peter’s head, holding onto the seat as Peter fucked you. Peter was still holding back, but at this strength, you were still going to be hurting in the morning. You bit into the skin of his shoulder, trying to suppress your moans that only grew louder; screams threatening to replace them, “P-Peter-“ You somehow attempted to speak his name.

“I-I,” Peter almost stuttered, “hate to say it but I’m really close,” He watched as you pulled your face out from his neck, now studying him. He was falling apart below you, everything about you making him weak. Somehow, he felt as if he was becoming weaker just at the sight of you, “Y/N,”

Peter looked as if he was holding on for you, brows furrowed as his teeth dug into the skin of his bottom lip. As you studied his lips, you decided to bring yours to his jaw, showering him in kisses. Some were sloppy and some were rougher than others as you attempted to help Peter over the edge he was holding onto, “Want you to cum,” You whispered against his skin, “Cum for me. Please?”

“S-Shit,” Peter breathed out. The curse rang with a slight laugh as you relieved him. With a few more rough thrusts, Peter filled the condom that was deep inside of you, “I-I wanted to last longer,” He informed, however his claim was cut short by your lips finding his own.

“Later,” You reminded him, “If you still want to-“

“I do-“ Peter interrupted. Clearing his throat at his desperation, he spoke again, “Yeah, yeah I’d like that,”

“Yeah,” You smiled, “I’d like that too,” You studied him as you still sat on his lap. However, that is when you remembered where you two were, “Shit-“ You raised yourself off of his lap. A shutter traveled through you as Peter quickly exited you.

“W-What?” Peter questioned awkwardly as the filled condom fell against the fabric of his shirt. Pulling it off of his dick, he tied it off before tossing it in the limo’s trash.

“How long has it been?” You questioned, nervousness rushing through you at the thought of the gala being over.

Your question made Peter’s shoulders round, wishing the limo’s seat would engulf him, “Was… was I that bad?”

“What?” You questioned as you collected yourself, looking out of the limo’s tinted window, “Wh- No- No. I-I meant how long have we been in here,” 

“Oh,” Peter spoke, attempting to make himself look presentable as well, “We should get back to the gala, “Hey- hey Friday, could you come back online please,”

“Of course Peter,” The system spoke as you placed your hand on the limo’s handle.

“W-Wait- hold on I’m almost-” Peter spoke but his claim was interrupted by your low voice.

“Maybe we shouldn’t get out at the same time… in case anyone sees,” Your words were cautious as if you were dancing around an insult, “Anyone being like the media… or-”

“Or Phil?” Peter questioned quite quickly.

“You know what I mean,” You spoke back defensively, “We don’t need any attention drawn towards you or a Stark controversy,”

“I know,” Peter responded, however you were already halfway out of the limo’s door.

Stepping into the cool night air, you took in a sharp breath. You did not mean to hurt Peter’s feelings, but it was just second nature to you. You always said the wrong things and somehow found yourself in arguments, but Peter was the last person you wanted to upset.

“Needed to cool off?” You heard Tony’s voice call out.

“Not now,” You groaned, however you dropped the attitude as you saw the rest of the group not too far behind him, “Party’s over?”

“Yeah you missed it. Where’s Pete? Was he holding your hair after all those drinks?” Tony asked, eyes scanning for Peter. You walked back towards the limo, hoping to warn Peter of the group’s presence before they could catch up. Opening the door you stuck your head into the vehicle, “I’m surprised Friday even let you in there,” Tony spoke as he approached you from behind. He waited for a remark from you. After all, he programmed the question just to mention you, however you were silent. Sticking his head in, he caught the last glimpse of what exactly was going on in his limo.

You pushed Peter away, who as soon as you entered the limo had caught you in a quite passionate kiss, “Not- not now-“

“Do I even want to sit in this limo?” Tony’s voice questioned, making you jump away from Peter’s hold. You sat down, putting a seat between the two of you, “My limo, may I add. God, I don’t even want to think about what you two did in here. And where you did it”

“Mr. Stark,” Peter spoke, the group’s presence unknown to him after he stopped you in your tracks as you entered the limo to warn him, “We didn’t…”

“Yeah Pete, real convincing,” Tony looked around as he climbed into the limo,  calculating where the safest place to sit might be, “Could you please just let me know if I’m about to sit in the splash zone or something,”

“I…I swear to fucking god,” You groaned, fingers now rubbing circles into your temples, “Can we all just get in and leave?”

“Why?” Tony questioned, attempting to hold eye contact with you as the rest of the Avengers piled into the limo, “Is there just something you’re dying to finish when we get back?”

“If something did happen tonight, shouldn’t you be glad? Took them long enough,” Natasha spoke, giving you a slight grin. Her red hair, once pulled back taut, now had a few loose pieces that fell against her cheekbones, “Plus, spare me. I’m getting a migraine from all that wine,”

“I’m trying to spare you” Tony spoke, fingers falling against his chest. Raising his opposite hand, he flashed the foil wrapper that sat between his fingers, “I don’t know what seat is safe,”

“Peter,” You groaned, covering your eyes as Tony tossed the wrapper towards you. You rubbed your temples as you heard Peter stutter from where he sat on your left.

“I mean,” Tony spoke, pouring himself another glass of whiskey from the limo’s bar, “I didn’t think you’d actually do it. Good for you kid, she’s way out of your league,” Taking a sip, he looked towards you. “So much for lone wolf,”

[totheblood]

people i don't like | tom holland

act one: round one

summary: college is much harder than you thought it would be and now you have to pretend to be rich and join a sorority to keep your scholarship. tom just happens to be the rich frat boy who gets thrown in the mix.

↳ richkid!au, college!au

word count: 4.3k+

(a/n at end of chapter)

You were generally a smart person.

At least that’s what you told yourself. You were smart, in an over-achieving, high marks on all your papers kind of way. You were smart, in a valedictorian, staying up late studying type of way. You were smart enough to earn yourself a seat at one of the most elite universities in the world. You were also smart enough to earn yourself a full ride. However, you were not as smart as you thought.

As you grew accustomed to the harsh Connecticut winter, bulking up in thick wool jackets and getting warm with herbal teas, you failed to adapt to the rigorous curriculum at Yale. You found it hard to keep up with your peers, the due dates always being earlier than expected and the words that got you through high school somehow falling short. Whatever work you were doing was described by your professors as dull, lacking understanding, and rushed no matter how hard you tried. This would’ve meant seemingly nothing, the only downside being a bit of a bruised ego, but every time you got a bad grade your mind drifted to your mother.

Your mother who sent you off to college with her last five paychecks and a kiss on the cheek. The mother who raised you all by herself after your father abandoned you. The mother who worked multiple jobs to pay the bills and make sure you never felt the lack of your father. The woman who you knew, even if it wasn’t explicitly said, was banking on the fact that you would graduate from an ivy league and land any job you wanted. A part of you knew your mother would always be proud of you, no matter what you did, but you still felt your stomach sink at the idea that your scholarship might be jeopardized with your poor grades and you would have to leave Yale and compromise the future your mother expected of you.

To your surprise you finished your first semester with 2 A’s, 3 B’s, and a bit of frostbite from the blizzard you had the night before finals. You were really shocked, however, that you had gotten an A in your Advanced English Literature class, seeing as you handed in all your papers late and received nothing but criticism from Professor Berger. So you remained blissfully unaware, arriving back on campus in late January with a new attitude and determination to do better this semester. You were unaware as you unpacked your belongings again and heard your phone chime the same sound it does ten times a day. Unaware as you opened up your email to see in big bold letters:

URGENT - MEETING WITH PROFESSOR BERGER TO FINALIZE YOUR GRADE

After freaking out for about an hour on the phone with your best friend, Fletcher, he urged you to go to Professor Bergers office as soon as possible to get this resolved. So you made your way over to his office on campus, your hands shaking and heartbeat fast as you waited outside his office for him to be finished with whatever student he had decided to torment first. You were almost positive you were having a heart attack and you watched as your vision got blurry until-

“Ms. Y/L/N?” He announced in a loud yet firm voice, his eyes catching your frantic ones. “Are you ready to come in?” He asked, pushing the door more open with his body, his arm outstretched motioning you to come in. So you gave him a nervous smile, averted your eyes, and sat on the chair facing his desk. You sat with your clammy hands and rapid heartbeat as he closed his door behind you and made his way to the other side of the desk. As he sat, he began searching through his desk for your file and upon finding it let out a deep sigh and placed it on the desk between you two.

“Ms. Y/L/N, I know you were probably a bit confused as to how and why you got an A in my class last semester after never submitting a paper on time.” He stated, seeming to wait for your response.

“Well, I would never look a gift horse in its mouth if you know what I mean.” You joked, earning not even a hint of a smile. Tough crowd.

He let out another sigh, rolled up his sleeves, and leaned forward on his desk getting as close to you as his desk would allow. “Look, Y/N, I am a firm believer in second chances. I know that the first semester at Yale is most difficult for new students and I know what it’s like to be in your position. I know there are certain requirements for your scholarship and I would like for you to be able to meet them but for the grade I gave you last semester, you will have to earn that.”

At this point you were confused, scared, and developing a wicked headache so you had no idea what to say. You thought he would keep talking but when he didn’t, you took that as your sign to open your mouth.

“I’m sorry Professor, do you want me to retake your class? Because I think that the times that you have class conflict with my current schedule.” You explained, a smile on your face that pleaded ‘please go easy on me’.

“No, I’m not asking you to retake my class. I am asking you to write an in depth paper about a person, a thing, an organization, anything really that you hate or opposes your worldview. And I’m not talking about mild research, I’m talking literally putting yourself in their shoes. Walk around in them, and then write about it. Write from a different perspective. Become someone new. Your writing is good, but it is also juvenile. It’s inexperienced. You only see the world from your point of view, and to be a good writer, you need to change that.”

All you could catch yourself doing was blinking back in surprise. He wanted you to write a research paper for your A? That you could do, and if it was only one paper then you could also do it really well. So you plastered a smile on your face and nodded back at him.

“So how long do you want it to be? And when is it due?” You inferred, hoping you had time to figure out who this paper was going to be about.

“However long it needs to be to let me know how your view has changed and why. You have until the end of this semester.” This time he gave you a smile. Not a kind smile, but  a smile that let you know that he was in charge.

“What if my views don’t change?” You questioned.

“If you get to know the thing, the people, the organization, some part of your views will change. Not all of it, but some.”

With limited written up instructions, he sent you off into the night, your head now on the verge of exploding from information overload. On your way home you began to think of ideas, who to write about, who you hated, and how you were possibly going to get to walk in their shoes. With your headphones in you couldn’t hear the loud music on sorority row as you approached, but you did see the lights and people scattered all over the lawn. Bodies on top of bodies, and groups of unbelievably hot rich girls and douchey rich frat boys gathered in circles on porches of houses and you rolled your eyes at the entire concept of greek life.

It appalled you how these people spent money on huge houses, useless parties, and galas while you were struggling to even go to this college. How these people, basically dry humping on the lawn, didn’t have to worry about grades or that classes started tomorrow because they could afford to fail. It made you angry but it also made you insanely jealous. However, as you rolled your eyes at the people having fun and ‘living life’ it occurred to you that they just might be the answer to all your problems.

Fletcher was already outside your dorm room door when you arrived, a chocolate chip cookie in hand. He was the first and only friend you made at school and he was also the reason you made it through the first semester. He was awkward but in a way that made you comfortable to be around him. He was this tall, blonde hair, standard white guy that you would have found attractive if he wasn’t Fletcher. But he was your friend and possibly the best friend you ever had and you in no way wanted to mess that up, the taste of platonic intimacy being all you needed.

“Brought you a cookie.” He stated, smiling and opening his arms up for a hug. You happily obliged since you hadn’t seen your friend in weeks and you were missing human touch. “Just in case you got bad news.” His words getting muffled by your hair.

You pulled back from him and moved to open your door so you both could pile in. “No, not bad news. Just different news.”

He placed the cookie on your desk and sat down on your bed, leaning back and taking off his jacket. “Different news? What does that mean?” He watched as you took your jacket and shoes off and hopped on the bed next to him.

“It means that Professor Berger wants me to write a paper about something that I oppose, but I have to really get to know it.” You told him, your voice low as you rested your head against the wall.

“That makes no sense to me.” Fletcher replied, leaning up on his elbows to get a good look at you. “What are you gonna do?”

“I think I’m going to rush Kappa Kappa Gamma.” You stated simply, getting up to grab your cookie and quickly returning to your spot on the bed. Fletcher, however, quickly sat up and sat crossed legged across from you, watching your movements.

“What do you mean you're going to rush Kappa Kappa Gamma? Do you want to lose your soul?” He asked rushed as if he was genuinely worried about you joining a sorority.

“It’s not like for real, just something to write my paper about. That’s all.” You took a bite of your cookie as your friend began to look more panicked.

“Y/N, do you know what they do to people who rush sororities? Awful things. People die from hazing, you know. And isn’t the initiation fee like a thousand dollars?” He questioned frantically, making good points, and while you knew that Fletcher was protective of you, you were also sure that rushing greek life wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen to you.

“I have money saved up from the cafe that I don’t have anything to spend on. And I can take care of myself, Fletch. I promise I won’t let some sorority girls kill me.” You tried reassuring him, which seemed to work but he still looked a bit spooked.

“Just be careful, Y/N, if you decide to do this.” He pleaded, grabbing your hand. “Please?” 

“I will be careful, I promise.”

ROUND ONE

Round one took place that Saturday night, the KKG foyer decorated elegantly with baby pink streamers and a big bright banner that read: Welcome To Your Future. You wanted to laugh at the irony, but didn’t. You were ashamed to admit that you spent over 200 dollars on a dress from Free People that seemed to fit you in the right places. It was silk with a deep V neck and flowy sleeves. It was long and flowy, yet form fitting at your waist. It was comfortable enough to wear with your large leather jacket with fur trimmings that you thrifted a month ago back home. You spent over an hour doing your makeup, trying to play up your best features with your newest purchases from Sephora. You are also not proud to admit that you spent over an hour doing a deep conditioning treatment on your hair so it could look extra healthy for tonight. Needless to say, you were dressed for the part.

To your surprise, that wasn’t the hard part. The hard part would be talking like you belonged there. Finding out where rich people buy their groceries, buy their clothes, what gyms they had subscriptions to. The hard part would be the conversation, the forced laughter, and trying to not look absolutely disgusted when taking a bite of caviar. It was making sure your posture was right, making sure you exuded enough confidence for them to want to get to know you. Confidence had never been your strong suit, but you were sure it was something you could muster up for a night or two, or maybe that was your fake confidence talking.

Whatever it was, you were in a room full of girls your age who either looked terrified or absolutely at home and you could tell you were teetering the line between the two. So you made your way across the room to where two tall, clean, and effortlessly beautiful women were standing beside a table full of finger foods and premade cocktails. You didn’t acknowledge them, seeing as you didn’t want to come off as desperate or needy, but they definitely noticed you. 

You watched from the corner of your eye as the two girls looked you up and down before turning to each other and whispering. You wanted to yell at them about how whispering is rude but instead you took a glass filled with champagne and a baby pink bow around the stem and took a swig from the cup before turning your attention to the party. You were observing the other girls, with their long flowy dresses and silky hair and wondered to yourself how much you truly looked like them. You were just getting lost in your thoughts when the girls from before approached you.

“Hi, I’m Millie.” The first girl smiled, a hand outstretched for yours. She was the type of beautiful people wrote books about. She had a sculpted face and amber eyes with the highest cheekbones you have seen in your life. She had long honey brown hair that sat nicely on her shoulders and she wore a strapless black dress that would’ve hit the floor if it wasn’t for her long legs and high heels. “Millie Astor, I’m the president of Kappa Kappa Gamma.” She bragged and offered you a sugary sweet smile as you took her hand and shook before quickly retreating. “And you are?”

“I’m Y/N Y/L.” You smiled so widely that your cheeks hurt. “It’s so beautiful what you’ve done with the place. Truly stunning.” you beamed. You were unsure if this was going to win you points with Millie, but you didn’t want to come off as detached or have her believe you thought you were too good for this sorority. 

“Thank you, sweetie.” Condescending, you thought to yourself. “Are you planning on rushing KKG?” She inquired in an insincere way. 

“I’m thinking about it, yes. My mom is a legacy at Kappa Alpha Theta so I’m also rushing there.” You replied back to her in the same insincere way. She smiled at you like you said the right thing and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Well, please consider rushing Kappa Kappa Gamma. We would be lucky to have you.” This time she actually sounded sincere.

“I’ll think about it. It was lovely talking to you.”

About 30 minutes had passed and you had already talked to enough people to last you a lifetime, but you needed everyone here to like you. You don’t know why you needed it to be that way, but you assumed that it would be easier to get dirt if you got on good with everyone here. But as the night went on and you began on your fifth champagne flute, you found yourself sitting down next to some girl seated at the kitchen island.

“Hey,” she smiled the first genuine smile of the night, almost seeming shocked that someone was sitting down next to her. 

“Hey.” you smiled back, giving her the best half smile you could muster.

“I’m Hazel.” she told you more awkwardly this time, her confidence draining by your cold demeanor.

“I’m Y/N.” You sighed, keeping your gaze with her and taking another sip from your champagne flute. She had shoulder length black hair and tan skin. Her kind eyes kept creasing everytime she spoke and she was suited in a short gold dress that you were sure cost more than your house. She looked nice, but she also looked nervous.

“Are you anxious?” You asked, glancing at her fingers playing with her thumbs.

“That obvious?” She laughed, the tension draining from her body but you just held her gaze and gave her a real smile. “Yeah, I’m really anxious. I feel like I don’t belong here when getting into this sorority has been a lifelong dream of mine.” That’s a sad dream, you thought.

“What makes you think you don’t belong here? You certainly look the part.” You told her. This was you in your own way trying to be nice.

“I know I have this fancy dress on and my mom is a legacy but I just feel like the people here don’t get me like I thought they would.” She confided in you, her head now resting on the cold tile of the kitchen island, her brown eyes glancing up at you.

“Well, you just have to act the part now. Make them get you. Assimilate or some shit like that.” That sounded more comforting in your head. “Or just drink until everything anyone says becomes funny.” She let out a giggle and lifted her head up to look at you.

“Thank you.” she sighed.

“For what?” you wondered, completely confused.

“For being the first person to make me laugh tonight.” She gave you a large grin that was completely replaced with a look of confusion as you both heard loud noises coming from the entryway. She jumped up off her seat to find out where it was coming from and you quickly followed behind her to find a group of guys entering through the front door. Some of the girls who were already a part of the sorority were hugging and greeting their loud guests while some of them started to move inside and pick off the food table. 

There was, however, a brunette among the crowd who had his eyes locked with you. His curls were slicked back making his hair look almost wet. He was wearing a baby blue button down shirt and pants that were way too fitting as he stood across the room with his eyes fixed on you. He then offered you a smile and a tiny wave before you averted your gaze and turned towards Hazel, a weird look on your face.

“It’s Alpha Delta Phi, the brother sorority.” Hazel notified you trying to answer the question you had asked in your head.

“Oh, I know that, I just want to know who that guy is. The one who is staring at me.” You glanced over at him quickly so Hazel could know who you were talking about.

“Babe, he’s not staring, he’s checking you out.” She giggled as you could feel the heat rush to your face. 

“I don’t care what he’s doing, I want to know who he is.” You snapped at her, but in a friendly way. In a way that made her giggle and put her hand over her mouth.

“That’s Tom, he’s like modern day royalty I swear. He’s loaded.” She informed you causing you to literally roll your eyes.

“What, you don’t like hot rich men?” She giggled again, linking arms with you and dragging you to the food table with her.

“I’m just tired of douchebags, I think.” You popped a grape in your mouth before browsing the rest of the food on the table. 

“Oh, he’s not a douchebag. I heard he’s very nice which is why almost everyone here wants to date him. A guy with money who is nice? Unheard of.” She also grabbed a grape and popped that in her mouth before grabbing an appetizer that resembled a wonton and began eating it.

“I wish he would be nice enough to stop staring at me.” You mumbled, glancing over to where the brunette was deep in conversation with another much taller guy. He would occasionally glance over at you, smirk when he caught your eye, and then give his attention back to his friend.

“Are you not into guys?” Hazel asked, throwing you out of your trance as you shook your head in confusion as to why she was asking you that.

“No, I am. Why do you ask that?” You eyed her, obviously intimidating her.

“It’s just that here you have this hot, rich, and apparently nice guy. I just don’t understand how you could not want him to stare at you?” She was making good points, but that didn’t take away from the fact that you were here for one thing only and you didn’t need any distractions.

“I’m just not into dating at the moment. It’s not for me.” This was partially true. To say you had commitment issues would be the understatement of the century. Ever since you watched your parents' marriage fall apart right in front of you, everything having to do with love quickly turned sour. The idea of even settling down caused your stomach to flip upside down and you didn’t think that some rich boy with nice hair could change that. Especially if he was JUST some frat guy.

Later that night you found yourself walking home alone. You didn’t want to waste money on an uber seeing as you needed to save as much money as possible to not only pay your initiation fee, but to also keep up the charade. You also didn’t feel like taking public transportation this late at night so you decided to do what you always do: pretend you are on the phone and walk as fast as your heels would allow you.

It would’ve been a nice night to walk home if it wasn’t so cold and your feet weren’t killing you from standing in your heels all night. There were fairy lights that were strung across each house and the streets were relatively empty. You could hear music coming from various houses on sorority row and see silhouettes of people dancing through the windows. Needless to say, you felt very safe walking home.

You were feeling safe until a black sports car started tailing you. You could hear how fast it was driving prior, but was met with silence when it started going much slower right behind you. You wanted to run into a house, scream, or call for help but you were frozen and just hoped whoever was in that car would leave you alone. You held your breath as the car pulled up to you and maintained its pace with yours as you walked. The window rolled down to reveal the brunette from earlier, the one who was staring you down.

You stopped in your tracks to glare at him. He had that same stupid smirk from earlier on his face and you could tell that he expected it to make you swoon, but it didn’t.

“What? Are you stalking me?” You asked harshly, your night officially being too long.

“No, not stalking you.” He gave you a wide grin. “I promise.” He made a crossing motion over his heart and you had to admit that it was kind of endearing. You, however, chose not to respond, raising your eyebrow and urging him to speak.

“I saw you walking and wanted to see if you needed a ride home.” He offered. “I’m Tom, by the way.” He was cute in a boyish way. His dimples made his eyes wrinkle around the edges and his teeth were straight and white. He looked well put together, like he looked after himself or had someone to do that for him. He looked calm and safe, but don’t most serial killers look calm and safe these days?

“Well, Tom, I’m not supposed to get in cars with strangers.” You teased. “What if you kidnap me?” This earned a hearty laugh from him, his head shaking as he tried to hide his blush.

“I won’t kidnap you, but if it makes you feel safe I could roll the windows down, keep the door unlocked, and drive really slow.” You could tell he was being nice and sincere but you still took caution upon entering his vehicle. You had never been in a car this nice and you had to be careful to not let on that you weren’t one of the sorority girls he was used to. 

Not to your knowledge, but at the same time you were getting into Tom’s car Millie was walking down the block with the pack of cigarettes that she had previously hidden under the floorboards in her hand. She wouldn’t have recognized you as the girl getting in Tom’s car if it wasn’t for the dress you wore that made you stand out among the crowd. She couldn’t help but smile to herself watching the car drive off with you inside it. 

After you told him which dorm you lived in, he kept his promise and drove excruciatingly slow, but you just assumed he wanted to spend more time with you. He didn’t play music and kept glancing over at you to make sure you were okay and comfortable, smiling to himself about how you were playing with your hands and was visibly nervous.

“Why were you walking back home anyway?” He broke the silence, only glancing over at you for a moment before turning his attention back to the road. You had to come up with a lie and you had to come up with one quickly.

“I just think walking is better for my health, so I don’t have a car.” It was a blatant lie but you thought it sounded shallow enough for him to believe you. “But it was really cold tonight so I’m glad you picked me up, I just canceled my Uber.” He just hummed in response, his long fingers drumming against the steering wheel.

“So you’re rushing KKG?” he wondered, this time not looking over at you at all. 

“Yeah, I thought it would be fun. Everyone seems so nice.” He let out a loud laugh that actually caused you to jump out of your seat.

“Nice isn’t the first word I would use to describe Kappa girls but I can tell you’re nice enough to try to compliment them.” He told you after he caught his breath.

“Yeah, I mean, I felt like I was definitely being judged but nobody threw me down and started punching me so I assumed they were nice enough.” This time you glanced over at him. You could see the little freckles on this side of his face and the texture on his skin. The tip of his nose turned upwards as he spoke and his lips wer- Ok, no, you were not going to do this.

“That’s your standard for niceness? Someone not throwing you down and punching you?” he asked in a teasing tone.

“Yeah, I think so.” You replied back, watching your dorm room appear in the distance.

“Do you think I’m nice then?” he asked his voice now low and subtly flirty, looking over at you again.

“Hm, maybe. I’d have to get to know you, I think.” You whispered back, smiling as his cheeks changed shades. What the fuck were you doing.

“Well, I’ll show you just how nice I can be.”

That Sunday morning you decided to sleep in, but were rudely awakened by a notification from your phone.

DEAR Y/N Y/L, YOU HAVE BEEN INVITED TO ROUND TWO AT KAPPA KAPPA GAMMA

LOVE, MILLIE

a/n: i am ashamed to say this took me two days to write not including my outline... but i actually love this plotline and i think it will be a fun challenge to write but i have a lot of scenes mapped out and character boards which i think i will like just make igs for them as a concept andddd yea ok i hope you like... I APPRECIATE ANY AND ALL FEEDBACK MWAH!

taglist and mutuals: @sxfik @olsensnpm @userholland @gwenscindys @spideyspeaches @cocoamoonmalfoy @venomsilk @spvilers @petereading @honeyspidey @spideyobsessed @vendettaparker @erule @4ppurrr @vxid42 @wildholland @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @lovebyceleste @mayal0pez @ariianelle @keanureevesisbae @ghiblijoons @peterparkoure @starstruckspring @willie-ivy @spideyy @seaveysinn @simplyparker @silkscream @silkholland

[dragonpyre]

More Peter Parker in Gotham bullshit. He's friends with his new neighbor Jason <3

Commission info ko-fi

[starryevermore]

🥃 “I can braid your hair for you- I mean, only if you want.” with peter parker please <3

spidey powers ✧ peter parker

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

request: 🥃 “I can braid your hair for you- I mean, only if you want.” with peter parker please <3 - annab-nana

pairing: peter parker x fem!reader

word count: 497

warnings?: fluff, pet name (baby), not proofread

“Ugh, I fucking hate this,” you groaned, throwing a bobby pin down on the sink counter. You started pulling the small elastic ties from your hair, tossing them in the garbage because they were too stretched out to be used again. After all, you’d already tried redoing this hairstyle at least five times now with the same elastics. 

Peter poked his head into the bathroom, eyebrows knit together in concern. “Everything okay, baby?” he asked. 

“No. My hair’s being stupid and won’t cooperate,” you pouted. 

It felt silly, the way tears were pricking at your eyes. But, you wanted to look nice. You and Peter rarely went out anymore, trying to save up money to buy a place of your own. But you’d gotten a big promotion, and Peter wanted to treat you to a nice dinner at a restaurant Mr. Stark had recommended. So, you wanted to dress up. But your hair refused to do anything you wanted it to.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Peter said. “Could I—I mean—I can braid your hair for you—I mean, only if you want—”

“…Well, I suppose spiders are good at that whole weaving thing, so you might just be able to come up with a decent-looking braid,” you teased. 

“I’m not that kind of spider!” Peter laughed. He stepped out for a moment, returning with a chair so you could sit while he braided your hair. “I don’t even produce my own webs.”

“Yeah, why is that?” you asked, taking your seat in the chair, watching in the mirror as Peter stepped behind you, sectioning off your hair with a rat tail comb. “Didn’t you say one of the Peters from a different universe made his own webs? And there was, like, a little hole in his wrist they shot out of?”

“Blehh, don’t remind me of that,” Peter shuddered. “Great guy, he was, but that web stuff…Gives me nightmares.”

“I’m just curious, how can you be Spider-Man when the only real spider part of you is you’re sticky?”

“I have a spidey-sense!”

“Yeah, but is that an actual spider thing? Or just a different superpower that you’ve decided is a spider-related power because you chose the moniker Spider-Man?” You paused for a moment. “Though…If you, and the other Peter, really had spider powers, wouldn’t your webs come out of your butt? Have you tried that? Maybe you can produce your own webs but—”

“I’m not going to test that!” 

The two of you went back and forth about Peter’s powers until your hair was finished. 

“You know what? I think I was right on the spider-weaving-thing,” you said, admiring the way your hair looked. “Thank you, baby.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, leaning down to kiss you. “You look gorgeous.”

“All I have done right now is hair and makeup,” you laughed. “I haven’t even got dressed!”

“And yet, you’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” 

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