#peter parker ff

[hlvstia]

— too late :(

pairing : peter parker x reader | peter parker x f!reader | peter parker x female!reader | peter parker x fem!reader | peter parker x y/n | peter parker x you

prompt : peter’s laptop dies while you two were doing a very important project for a class. ( from https://perchance.org/otp--prompts ) safe link! /srs

word count : 393, very short!

a/n : can be any mcu peter, but i’ll be using tom’s 🤍. also, feel free to submit me a prompt with any character! i’d love to get back in writing and fulfilling your requests. love u all!

drabble below the read more cut, enjoy loves!

as you two were doing a project for this class, it practically ended up with both of y’all arguing— only because peter wouldn’t listen to you and placed notes everywhere. they weren’t organized and it kind of ticked you off.

“no, idiot! that’s supposed to go here!” you exclaimed, pushing peter off of his seat as you took the laptop from his hands, moving the cursor to where you placed the text box to where it was supposed to be. “[y/n]!”

he scoffed, getting back up from his seat as he took his laptop back, scanning over the newly designed slides. “it looks the same as before… are you kidding me?” peter rolled his eyes, noticing how his cursor was lagging behind.

this only meant one thing.

it meant that his laptop was about to die and their slides weren’t going to backup any of the info they had worked hard on. “oh, shit!”

he began panicking, jumping off of his seat as he started to rummage through his bag, obviously worried that their process was going down the drain if he didn’t find the charger.

your face dropped into an expression as you ran to your room, going through your closet as you looked for a specific charger, throwing down some old boxes just to find the right plug.

“where is it?!” mumbling to yourself, you panicked as well, not wanting your hard work to fail only because peter forgot to charge his laptop AND turn on his backup savings.

finally, you found it! thank goodness.

“peter, i have it!” you exclaimed, having a large grin on your face as you rushed back to the area, only to see a defeated look on his face. it was too late to come to the rescue.

“no way…”

“yes way…” he sighed, shutting his laptop slowly as he placed his head down onto the cold counter. “well… you shared the slides with me, right?”

you had this burning hope that he had at least shared it with you. i mean, everyone does that when you end up in a project with your classmate, right?

peter still had a defeated look, shaking his head as he sighed out loud, even adding a groan.

it was over for you two.

“for fucks sake…” you sighed as well, throwing the charger onto the couch. “we’re totally fucked.”

[dracowars]

your friendly neighborhood nurse | peter parker

pairing: mcu!peter x gwen!reader

word count: 2,2k

summary: where peter is badly injured and y/n helps him

a/n: my first peter parker os, ahhh!!! i'm so excited and can't wait to see what you think of it 🫶🏻 please be kind and enjoy~

warnings: angst, mentions of blood, mentions of (severe) injuries

universe: marvel

Your gaze lazily flies over the first few lines of the page, the words logically connecting in your head to form a coherent sentence. The book lies open on your lap, your knees pulled a bit closer to your body so it is easier for you to dive into your newest book. Whenever you read, you feel like you leave New York City behind, escaping into different worlds and other realms, fading out the real world around you.

Outside your room, you hear the quiet clinking of glass as a member of your family is apparently emptying the dishwasher. You can hear the deep tone of your father's voice but your mind is too busy with the words you are currently reading to concentrate on any of them.

You even block out the loud sirens from several passing fire trucks and police cars, subconsciously perceiving them, but not actually understanding them. What you do notice, however, is a loud but dull bang a few seconds later as something hits your window with so much force to startle you out of your dreamland but not enough to break the glass.

Suddenly, your whole body is tensed up, your pulse increasing vehemently when you look at your window and see nothing. The sirens continue to blare through the streets of New York, but the moment you think you see a shadow on the fire escape, you couldn't care less about them.

Quickly, you carelessly toss your book onto your blanket, reality now more important than the words in it, and you swing your legs over the edge of your bed in a haste before quickly stepping to the window.

Strong rays of sunshine hit your face and your eyes close out of reflex, but you reach for the window anyway and lift it up. You still haven't discovered the source of the bang, but something inside of you tells you that it is important, that you are needed.

And you were right because once you lean out of your window a tiny bit, you spot a figure on the right side of your window, sitting against the wall.

"Peter?", is all your vocal cords manage as a shiver runs down your spine when he looks at you before his name even fully left your mouth, his senses striking, your eyes meeting.

If there is one thing in this already cruel world that you hate the most, it's seeing others suffer, especially if you know those people. Especially if you love those people. Deeply.

That is why your heart beats even more painfully now that you see the numerous wounds and the blood - so, so, so much blood - on his face and body, his hair disheveled from the mask. His suit is torn in a few places, the areas you sewed last week ripped open again.

"Oh my god", you curse under your breath and don't waste another second to climb out the window and onto the emergency staircase of your huge apartment building, crawling to his side.

As soon as you reach him, his pained face lights up for a second, shooting you his characteristic smile. But it doesn't fully reach his eyes as it normally does which worries you even more.

"Hey you", he whispers softly, his voice obviously strained as he tries to turn his body into your direction, failing as he whimpers in pain.

"What happened?", you immediately ask, concerned about his current state. You have seen him after a lot of fights, after good and bad battles, after winning one or losing one, but never did he look so weak and vulnerable to you. Peter always tries to seem strong in front of you, he wants to be twice as strong for the both of you, but in this moment, right now, it just breaks your heart.

"Oh, you know. Just the usual", he replies, shrugging before realizing that every little movement hurts. "A bad guy striving for world domination. Nothing new, really."

"Peter, this is no joke", you scold him, startled about the fact that he can still make jokes looking like this. "We need to get you to the hospital immediately."

Stumbling to get up, you are immediately stopped by his scraped up hand that wraps around your forearm, his grip tight to keep you from leaving.

"Relax, cupcake. I just needed to see you, that's all", he tells you, but you don't buy it, especially not when every breath he takes causes him unimaginable pain. "Just gonna rest for a bit and then I will feel much better."

"Peter! I'm warning you, keep your damn eyes open", you immediately shake him as he only whispers his last words quietly and his head slowly lowers. You quickly grab his face and force him to look at you and sure enough, his disoriented pupils find yours. A small smile creeps onto his lips as he takes in another shaky breath.

"You have to listen carefully now, okay? We have to get you inside. I'm going to lift you up, but I can't do it alone. You have to help me with this with the last bit of strength you can muster, alright? It will probably hurt, but I can't help you any other way, Peter", you gently speak to him, a certain urgency in your voice, and even though his senses seem to be quite foggy, he nods and immediately tries to get up with his arm against the wall of the building. Quickly, you support him and pull his arm over your shoulder so that most of his weight is now on you.

"Okay, okay. One step-" you start to explain, but Peter staggers forward dangerously before you quickly press your hand against his chest to steady him. "One step at a time. Just look at what I'm doing."

Together, you finally manage to get him to your open window, where the next obstacle is already waiting for you: how are you supposed to get him inside?

“Let me think about the best way to get you in there", you mumble, your head lost in thought as another police patrol drives past your apartment building. Before you can come up with a solution, however, Peter suddenly bends down and squeezes himself through the window in excruciating pain. That done, he almost falls over if you hadn't followed him, cursing, and prevented him from meeting your floor by grabbing his waist. With his help, you maneuver him to your bed, where he lies down groaning.

"I swear to God, when this is over, I will be the one to kill you", you say under your breath, eyeing his entire body, inspecting all the wounds that need medical care.

At the sight of him, dark thoughts suddenly rush through your mind and your eyes become watery, but you know that you have to be strong for him and you do not allow a tear to fall down. With a deep breath you get up and go to your adjoining bathroom, where you always keep a first aid kit under the sink. After all, this isn't the first time Peter has asked you for help; it's just never been this bad.

Before you can get to your bed again, there is a loud knock on your bedroom door all of a sudden and you stand still for a second, completely frozen in place. Your eyes wander to Peter, lying on your bed in his miserable state. A boy lying in your bed.

Spiderman lying in your bed.

"Y/N?" your father speaks from the other side of the door, turning the doorknob like he always does, not waiting for your answer.

"Stop, Dad! I'm changing!", you shout, running up and reaching the door just in time so you can lean against it and shut it close again.

"Oh, my bad. Listen, something happened and I have to go out again. That useless Spiderman guy- Whatever. I know we were supposed to cook your favorite meal today, but that has to wait until tomorrow, sweetheart", he now speaks to you through the door and your heart beats a beat faster the moment you put two and two together. "I just have one request for you: stay here, in your room. Don't go out today. Your mom is in the kitchen if you need anything."

"Yes, Dad. Don't worry, I have loads of homework", you reply, letting out a sigh of relief as soon as you hear his footsteps walking away from your door, quietly locking your door from the inside. But it's only when you hear the front door closing that you move again and rush to Peter's side, who, to your surprise, still has his eyes open, even if only slightly. Immediately, his hand blindly reaches for you.

"I'm here, I'm here now", you assure him quickly and squeeze his hand tightly, but let go again to open the first aid kit. However, when you see all of his wounds, you find it difficult to keep track of all of them and feel overwhelmed.

"Cut it open", he croaks quietly, making you look at him in surprise. "The suit."

Understanding him, you nod and quickly cut through the fabric so you can tend to his injuries better. However, you also see the numerous dark blue and purple spots that are spread all over his upper body and your head doesn't even realize that he is now lying in front of you shirtless.

"Are you checking me out right now?", Peter mentions with a mock undertone, immediately snapping you out of your thoughts and your cheeks take on a deep red blush.

"N-No! Of course not!"

"Ah, man. If I had known that, I would have done a few more pushups beforehand", he teases you and on the one hand you are relieved that he is no longer on the verge of passing out, but on the other hand this really isn't the time to make jokes.

"You are such an idiot", you giggle quietly and use a damp cloth to wipe away the blood that is spread all over his muscular upper body. Then you use an alcohol-free wipe, and gently dab his skin with it. He immediately groans in pain and wiggles around, but since you both know there is no other way, he grits his teeth and tries to make as few sounds as possible.

When you reach his face to clean the wounds there, you repeatedly catch yourself looking into his glittering eyes, which are fixed on your face. With every eye contact you feel warmer and you try to suppress the blush that wants to creep onto your cheeks again.

"I'm sorry that you won't get your favorite meal today", Peter finally says, a pained expression on his face as you dab at the deep cut on his nose. "Ouch! That stings!"

"Well, if you didn't always jump into hopeless fights, then we wouldn't even be in this situation", you roll your eyes at him, concentrating on being as careful as possible so that you do not cause him more pain.

"Others would have been hurt..", he murmurs under his breath and if it weren't so quiet in your room, you probably wouldn't have heard him at all, but his words make you pause as you look directly at him.

The serious look on his face warms your heart and with a smile you nod, showing him that you understand. That he just can't help but to help others because that is what he likes to do. That is what he is made for.

When he still doesn't break the intense eye contact after several seconds, you clear your throat and begin to apply a healing ointment on most of his wounds and then bandage them.

"Peter, you really have to go to the hospital and get checked. I'm not sure if you broke some bones", you plead and he nods in agreement, but reluctantly. Absentmindedly, you run your hand through his hair and then down his face, always careful to not touch any of his wounds.

"But you are the best nurse", Peter admits, making your heart beat faster again as he intertwines your hands on his bare chest. He places his other hand on your cheek and you nuzzle into it, never breaking eye contact. And when he puts his hand on your neck and pulls you closer and closer to his face, you feel like your heart stops completely. Only shortly before your lips touch do you break eye contact.

Peter kisses you with so much affection that you almost feel dizzy and you feel every part of your body that touches him.

With a hiss of pain, he is forced to break the kiss eventually, the pain now less but still present. Tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear, he looks at you with so much love in his eyes that you want to kiss him again immediately, but he stops you.

"Thank you", he says and you can literally feel his gratitude, which he emphasizes with a kiss on your knuckles. Smiling, you place a soft kiss on his cheek before connecting your lips once more.

"Everything for my superhero."

[ichorai]

no plan ; peter parker.

track four of WASTELAND, BABY!

pairing ; peter parker x gn!reader

synopsis ; it was the small, spontaneous moments with you, peter realized, that made all of this worth it.

words ; 1.7k

themes ; fluff, established relationship au

warnings / includes ; mild cursing, dancing in thunderstorms, peter being lovesick </3

main masterlist.

The thundering rain whispered tales of tranquility as the midnight sky rumbled, grey clouds littering across the horizon. You watched the city from the window of your apartment, wrapped in a thin fleece blanket and a mug of steaming tea in hand. You toyed with a piece of frayed fabric, humming absent-mindedly. 

After taking a sip from the still-too-hot tea, you settled into a chair, tucking your knees up to your chest. A book was cracked open with one hand, and you began reading, a small smile playing at the corner of your lips.

It was only a chapter later when your eyes started to droop. Perhaps it was the warmth of the sweet tea lingering on your tongue, or the waning light of the vanilla-scented candle on your desk, or the calming sound of thunder echoing across your room that lulled you into such a state of drowsiness.

Needless to say, you were abruptly ripped away from the enticing prospect of slumber when you heard three rapid, successive knocks. Initially, your sleep-addled mind had presumed the sound was coming from your front door, but you quickly realized that it was most probably the sopping wet man in red and blue spandex hanging upside down outside your window.

Your eyebrows inched higher up your forehead in part surprise, part exasperation.

Leave it to Peter to show up at your apartment in the middle of a thunderstorm.

He tilted his head at you, rapping the glass another three times when you made no move to let him in. You snapped out of your reverie, rushing forward to push your window open, pulling him in with a grimace.

“Ugh, Peter,” you bemoaned, wrinkling your nose at his dripping form. “What are you doing here? I don’t want you swinging around in the rain, it’s—”

Your words trailed off when your boyfriend ripped his mask off his head, hair incredibly mussed and cheeks flushed scarlet from the snapping cold of the rain. He remained silent, hands clutching your hips and pulling you closer to him. He smelled of faint petrichor and toothpaste—which wasn’t entirely a surprise because you could see a bit of dried toothpaste on his jaw.

Another complaint was just on the tip of your tongue, but it was quickly forgotten when Peter dipped forward, his lips melding over yours. You froze against him for just a millisecond before caving, one hand resting on his chest and the other snaking upwards to curl over the damp tendrils of hair on the nape of his neck. His nose lodged against yours ever so gently as he kissed you, mumbling something incoherent against your lips before smiling into you. 

“What was that?” you asked, pulling back slightly to lick at your thumb and wipe away the toothpaste on his jaw.

“Nothing, nothing,” Peter softly said, pressing cold kisses along the side of your neck. “You know, between work and being the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, it feels like I barely ever get to see you. I was just saying I missed you, was all.”

“Is that right?” came your reply, fondness seeping through your words. “Could’ve given me a call before dangling outside my window. What if I was busy or something?”

He ran his nose down the column of your throat as you leaned against your desk, allowing him to shadow over you. “I would’ve waited for you.” 

His frigid fingertips crawled beneath your shirt to rest against your warm stomach, and you hissed at the sudden sensation, lightly swatting at his bicep. “Peter, you’re freezing! And you’re getting my desk wet!”

The way he looked at you made your stomach coil.

“Well, you better warm me up, then,” he quipped, a suggestive lilt to his tone.

You supplied him with a roll of your eyes and a couple kisses littered over his lips, cheeks, and nose, before gently pushing him away from your desk towards the bed. The mattress groaned in protest beneath both of your weights, but it went ignored when he tugged you closer, biting your skin and breathing you in.

“Are you up for a little swing around?” he asked, practically preening from your touch when you started rubbing your fingertips over his scalp, occasionally pausing to gently pull at the roots of his dark hair.

“What kind of swinging?” you said, arching a brow. “Because I’m not going out in this weather, Peter—”

“Come on!” He jutted out his bottom lip in an overexaggerated pout. “It’ll be like those cheesy romance movies—but instead of dancing in the rain, we’ll be dangling off of skyscrapers!”

Your eyes narrowed into slits. “Nothing about that seems romantic at all.” After another second, you leaned forward to press a soft kiss over his sulky lips. “Fine. But if either one of us catches a cold, I’m spoiling the ending of every movie we’re watching together.”

“You wouldn’t!” Peter gasped with faux-offense, before pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. “You’re evil.”

The two of you dissolved into a bout of laughter, and he swiftly motioned for you to hold on to him. You stuck out your tongue playfully, but wrapped your arms over his neck anyways. With that, he fumbled to pull his mask back over his head and clambered out the windowsill.

The rain felt much harsher than it looked. The drops struck your skin like small pebbles, and the wind whistled wolfishly into your ears. You clung onto Peter even tighter as he shot out the web fluid and swung the both of you away from your cozy apartment, into the heart of the city.

“Oh my GOD! PETER!” you just about screamed your lungs raw when he pretended to drop you mid-air, before zipping down half a second later to scoop you back up. He was laughing so hard that you could hear him over the raucous thunder. 

Eventually, he deposited you onto the rooftop of another apartment complex just a couple blocks away from yours. There were rows of potted plants along the edges, along with sodden coils of fairy lights that were most probably broken by now. You shivered, the cold biting a chill down your spine, but you relished the droplets of water landing on your skin, smiling when a gust of wind sent you straight into Peter’s arms.

It seemed he wasn’t lying when he said he had wanted it to be like the cheesy romance movies—he grasped your hands in his and slowly twirled you around, slowly swaying to a song that neither of you could hear. 

“This feels so weird,” you said once he pressed his chest along your back, nosing your cheek fondly. “We look insane, Peter.”

“I know,” your boyfriend replied with a chortle, before spinning you around again and kissing you once more. “But sometimes weird is nice.”

You hummed your agreement, snaking your arms over his neck and leaning into him.

The two of you danced (or, awkwardly shuffled around) for the next ten minutes or so before the rain started to thin out. You wiped the rainwater off your face with a grin, then did the same to Peter with the dripping sleeve of your sweater.

Offering you his hand to swing back home, you graciously took the extended limb and held on for dear life as he threw the both of you off the building. 

Instead of sliding back into your window, the two of you opted to dance around on your building’s rooftop, scuffing the damp gravel with your shoes. He carefully observed the stars, the late-night drivers, the way the moon danced within your searching eyes. 

Peter felt like he had swallowed a jar full of honey—his throat grew thick and hesitant. So he was grateful when you sat down, legs dangling off the edge. He followed your lead, sweetly kissing the side of your temple. 

No words were exchanged. None really needed to be. 

The two of you watched as the sun began to rise hours later, and your eyelids were drooped to no return. Your head had found its way to his shoulder, breathing evened to a steady rhythm. 

The sun bled the sky a soft peach, followed by clementine and tangerine hues.

“Come on, baby,” he said, suppressing a large yawn behind his mask. “Let’s get you into bed.”

As carefully as he could, he shifted so that he could hold you in one arm as he climbed down the walls of the building, dropping onto the black gratings of the fire exit’s staircase and crawling to your window. He took great care as he slipped in, making sure you didn’t hit your head on the sill. 

Dutifully, he set you down onto your bed and rid you of your damp clothes, doing so with a fond smile permanently etched across his mouth. 

How’d he get so lucky with you?

He found a shirt in your drawers that used to belong to him just a week ago, but he didn’t mind. Peter rather liked the thought of you wearing his clothes.

You drowsily cracked an eye open as he pushed your head through the shirt hole, kissing your cheek and crooning something that you didn’t quite catch.

He motioned back to the window, and you just barely registered that he was saying goodbye.

“No,” you muttered, reaching out to limply make a grab for his wrist. “Stay here, Peter. Please?”

Your boyfriend didn’t even hesitate before splitting into a bright beam, yanking his own spidersuit off to slip beneath your warm blankets. He found it amusing that you had little plushies of your favorite Star Wars characters littered amongst your pillows—Darth Vader’s soft lightsaber was poking the side of his head. 

“You’re cold,” he whispered into your wet hair as he sidled himself against you.

“And whose fault is that?” you lazily droned back, lacking any bite.

Peter mustered a tired laugh, littering slow, saccharine kisses down your neck and jaw. “I love you.”

It was silent for a second, and Peter was nearly offended that you hadn’t said it back, before he realized that you had already fallen asleep in his arms.

[lialialow]

Lost and Found

Fluff Tasm!Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings none

Requested by @iceyarrows

Hello! I just found your work and I'm already obsessed! May I request something for Tasm!Peter Parker where he has a crush on the reader and writes their names in hearts in his notebook (it all just gives me lovesick puppy vibes), but forgets it somewhere and reader finds it and asks him out the next day? Just cute and fluffy I guess lol, literally anything for him is perfect. Thanks for considering!

Word Count 2k

A/N Thanks for the request! Wrote this on the plane, but it’s cute. Ly mwah ♥︎

Peter was hopelessly in love.

You were all that crossed his mind.

During lessons he was constantly distracted, and it wasn’t helpful in the slightest for him that you just happened to be next to him during half his lessons. He loved your smile, your laugh, the way you would slowly fall asleep in classes.

You guys had grown up together, your parents being the closest of friends and you constantly being around at his house. It was bad, Peter had begun to fall in love with his best friend. Even worse was the fact that you were the only person he had told that he was spider-man; and in doing so had placed you in a mountain of danger. Falling in love with you only heightened the prospect of you being caught up in his reckless life.

It wasn’t until a few weeks ago when he realised he was truly and irrevocably in love with you.

It was the middle of autumn, it was sweater weather, and so you and Peter decided to go out to central park on a stroll. You had found a spot located under a tree of auburn and gold, and was now sitting on one side of the bench, your legs lying on Peter’s lap. His hand was aimlessly rubbing circles on your ankle.

A notebook in hand, Peter had originally intended to draw a tree or something, but seeing how peaceful you looked reading a book, his mind immediately wavered and he set out drawing you instead. You truly were the most beautiful person he had ever seen, and it seemed truly hilarious to him that he had never seen your beauty before, the cloud of friendship had prevented that.

He loved your eyes, they way they would shine when you saw the bright blue sky. He loved it when you laughed when you read that particularly pleasing part of a novel. He loved the way your hair would be blown all over the place on a windy day, and how annoyed you would be afterwards. Most of all, he loved it when he made you laugh, or when you would make him laugh.

Peter loved you, he just had no idea how he could tell his best friend that he was in love with her.

- - -

It was the worst day of the week, Monday. Peter only had one thing to look forward to, and that was science, the only lesson that day where he would sit next to you and he would be so delightfully graced with your presence.

The teacher was droning on and on, Peter had a pen in hand and a notebook that was originally for school, but was now exclusively for drawings of you; on the desk. Yet he had lost focus a while ago and was aimlessly staring at you. He watched as your head lay on your hand, adorned with rings. His pen began to drift on the same notebook, writing your name over and over.

You were incredibly sleep deprived, your favourite show had come out the previous day and your genius self had decided to stay up the entire night to finish the brand new season. It didn’t help in the slightest that Monday just so happened to be the day filled to the brim with the most tiresome lessons.

Words began to blur right in front of you, numbers became letters. Everything written in your notebook was complete nonsense, and you were sure you would have to copy up notes from Peter.

Thank god he’s awake

Oh how wrong you were, Peter was completely distracted by you. Every feature of your face was being committed to memory by him. His hands moved on his own accord, sketching out a rough outline of your face. The more he drew the more he saw. A small freckle of the tip of your nose, just how long your eyelashes were, the way your lips would pout every time you disagreed with what the teacher was saying.

You were a ray of sunshine in his life, a shot of espresso, the only thing that kept him from collapsing and giving up when he felt like he could no longer go on. Only after a few minutes did Peter come to the realisation of what was in the notebook. The most picturesque sketch of your face, only picturesque because it was a drawing of you; surrounded by dozens of small hearts, your name written multiple times across the page.

The lesson carried on and you were no longer aware of a single thing that was happening, finally, after what seemed like an age, the bell rang and once again you were free to endure the torture of yet another lesson.

Peter still hadn’t recovered from seeing the image that he had created based on your sheer beauty, it haunted his every thought and therefore he barely acknowledged the fact that the bell had rung. The classroom seemed bare and all he could see as he walked out was your face.

Everywhere.

Not that it was a bad thing, of course, he loved seeing you, it was the only thing that made his days bearable. Peter carried on down the corridor in his thoughtless stupor; almost walking into a pillar in the process.

- - -

You had suddenly jolted awake at the sound of the bell, and were now scanning your eyes around the classroom, trying to look for Peter. His looming figure was nowhere to be seen. Instead, in his seat, lay a single notebook that you recognised to be his. Being the amazingly nice person you were, you decided to grab the book and give it to him at lunch.

That was the plan until curiosity got the better of you and you foolishly decided to open up the notebook. It fell open on the one apparent page covered in murals dedicated to you. A portrait of your face was displayed front and centre, your name was carelessly scribbled around the drawing- hearts covered the double page spread.

You flipped the page, yet another page dedicated to you. The more pages you flipped, the more you saw. It was beautiful, his drawings, they were amazing; yet you couldn’t help but to have mixed emotions. What were you supposed to think?

Your best friend, someone you had known since you were both in diapers, had drawn half a dozen portraits of you; that you had been completely unaware of. There was no doubt in your mind that the portraits were beautiful, but it was ever so confusing. The fine line between platonic and romantic was becoming smaller every second.

It was the doubt in your mind that had prevented you from confronting Peter, what if he just used you as his muse? This could all be some kind of ridiculous prank for all you knew.

Yet you hoped it wasn’t, throughout your friendship you guys had been mistaken as a couple. When you went out for lunch together, the waiter would mistake the two of you for a couple. Most of the time you would correct them, but sometimes it was fun to imagine what it would truly be like to be with Peter.

Years ago you had a crush on him, which was so embarrassing considering he was your best friend and if anyone knew you were sure they would tease you endlessly, so you got over it, kind of. The sheer possibility of him liking you was enough to drive you to maybe take action on it. You got it, an idea, your mind was made up.

- - -

It had taken Peter far too long to come out of his stupor, by the time he had it was well past lunchtime and there was no chance of him seeing you again; until tomorrow that was. When he arrived home and was rummaging through his bag, he came to the sudden realisation that his notebook was gone. A notebook filled with drawings of you, was gone.

Dozens of scenarios ran through Peter’s head, each seemed to be worse than the last. Some random douchebag could have picked it up, opened it, and discovered Peter’s best kept secret; or some random guy could have picked it up, not opened it, and was planning to give it back to him the following day.

That was the dream scenario, though indeed unlikely considering half the year school was made up of douchebags. Still, Peter had no choice but to wait until tomorrow to confront whoever had his notebook.

- - -

The following morning Peter was already expecting the worst, photos of his drawings put up everywhere perhaps, though when he walked into school and was greeted perfectly normally, it all seemed to be fine. That was until he saw you walking into school, and sure that was amazing. Until he saw what was in your hand.

It was his notebook.

Filled with drawings of you.

This was simply worse than whatever scenarios he had thought up the night before, what must you think of him, how horrifically embarrassing.

“Y/N!” Peter shouted louder than he meant to as he ran to you.

Heads in the corridor turned to stare at him after his loud outburst. You too were startled and jumped back, hitting your head on the door behind you. Was Peter okay? This was most unlike him.

“Woah, sorry, you okay? Didn’t mean to be that loud, god, also how are you? Not that you’d be okay after hitting your head,” Peter had forgotten how to formulate words and was becoming more and more red each second he was talking to you.

“Yeah, fine, bit worse than I was a few seconds ago though,” You replied with a laugh, Peter was acting strange.

“Um- Cool notebook!” Peter stuttered as he pointed out the notebook laying in your hands, his notebook.

Realisation dawned over your face.

Oh

“Right yeah I was going to, um, return it,” you told Peter your face growing brighter with each passing second, he surely suspected that you had opened the book to have a look; which was entirely true. “It’s beautiful by the way, the drawings, they’re amazing.”

Peter’s pale face lit up at your comment, you liked them, you thought they were amazing. Maybe his affection for you hadn’t been revealed just yet.

“They were only beautiful because they were of you, darling,” Peter said to you, his eyes meeting yours.

You felt your face flush with blood, since when was Peter so forward, and since you when did he call you darling. Though the nickname did make you blush an awful lot. Good lord, maybe he did truly like you. You were on a roll, you weren’t going to let this opportunity pass you.

Peter hoped, prayed, that you liked him back, that over the years of friendship, you too had fallen in love with him.

“Would you-”

“I was wondering-”

You both began talking at the same time.

“You go first,” he said.

“I was- I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go out on Friday? Or we could like watch a movie at mine or something,”

“Like we usually do?” he teased, though he knew you bette than that and was simply overjoyed at the prospect that you were asking him out.

“No, like- like on a date?”

“You’re not pranking me are you?” Peter asked, looping his arms around your waist.

“You’re not pranking me? With those drawings? Are you?” You mirrored, placed your hands around his neck.

“No,” he grinned.

“Nor am I” You smiled right back at him, placing your hands either side of his face. He leaned down and your lips finally met his, after so many years of pent up emotions. So long you spent just falling in love with one another, the line between platonic and romantic was crossed, just like that.

“So? Friday?” You whispered, your foreheads touching.

“Yeah, Friday.” Peter replied, placing his lips onto yours yet again.

Never before had he been so thankful to have lost a notebook.

[siennafrxst]

↳ do you trust me? 𖤐𓈒࣪₊˚

synopsis: y/n finally confronts peter about his recent unusual behavior. little does she know, he only did it to protect her from the truth. the truth about him being spider-man.

pairing: peter parker x female reader

universe: mcu

cw: angst, fluff

word count: 1.3k words

a/n: i’m pretty sure this fic can apply to any of the peters (tobey, andrew, and tom) so choose whichever you want to imagine this story with. there’s no right or wrong answer.

It was 2AM in the morning and Y/N had almost drifted off to sleep a couple of times before she heard the door creaking. Now alarmed, she focuses on the door and spots her boyfriend stepping into the house.

"Hey, you okay?"

Peter shuts the door behind him as he slowly walks towards the voice, a bit surprised. "Babe, what are you doing up so late?"

Shrugging, Y/N gives him a tiny smile of guilt and shyness.

"Don't tell me—you were waiting for me this entire time, weren't you?"

Y/N gazes into Peter's eyes before sharply inhaling. "Well, yeah. But I was just worried for you."

"Look, I appreciate it. I really do, but you seriously didn't have to." Peter sits on the couch beside her. "You must've waited for so long. I'm so sorry, I know that you must be tired and—"

"No, it's fine, really. If anything, you're the one anyone should be worrying about."

"I- I guess. It's just.. the Stark internship was kind of rough tonight."

Y/N frowns at his response. "'Kind of rough?' Peter, you have a bruise on your face!"

"I do?"

Y/N reaches for the wound on his right cheek, causing Peter to close his eyes at the touch of her hand.

"Oh, I didn't even notice," he spoke softly.

"Hey, what's going on with you? You haven't been yourself lately and it's starting to bother me. A lot."

Peter glances up into his girlfriend's worried eyes, unsure on how he would tell her. "Look, I'll explain everything to you eventually, I promise. But for now, you're just going to have to trust me."

"But Pete—"

"Just—trust me on this one. Please?"

Y/N carefully scans his serious and desperate expressions, almost giving in to them. Gulping hard, she shook her head, feeling the tears forming in her eyes. "No, this is absolutely ridiculous. You should be able to tell me what's going on. Are you gambling or something?"

"No! No, it's nothing like that," Peter hastily insists, the befuddled expression not leaving Y/N’s face.

"Then what is it like? What aren't you telling me, Pete?"

Peter opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. No words were dictated. Not even a slight noise. Nothing. For some reason, he couldn't tell her the whole truth. And it was absolutely killing him.

The hesitation only caused the tears in Y/N’s eyes to increase in size. Horrid thoughts and scenarios flowed through her mind as the silent tension only grew thicker and colder. "Are... are you cheating on me?"

Peter's eyes immediately grew wide with worry and shock. Oh God, what was he doing to her...

"No! No no no, I'm not cheating on you. I would never do that. I just..."

Goddamnit, why couldn't he just say it? The words were so simple to enunciate yet so difficult to say out loud.

"You just what? Peter, I am tired of this and all the lies you've been telling me. Please, I love you, what are you hiding from me? What are you.. what are you doing?" At this point, Y/N was raising her voice with worry and anger. Peter was not only her boyfriend, but he was also her best friend, which is why she was so hurt by his lies.

"You know, I thought I knew you. But apparently, I don't," she sternly stated, not even staring at him anymore.

"Hey, hey, please, don't... please look at me," he desperately called out, moving closer towards her.

She didn't budge.

"Y/N, please, I love you too, okay? I love you so much," he sincerely states, softly grabbing her hands.

Finally, she turned to face towards him, with tears filling her eyes. "I love you so much too, and... if you're not ready to tell me whatever it is you're hiding, I guess, I can wait a little while longer. But you're going to have to promise me that you'll explain everything to me sooner or later, okay?"

Peter nods at her. "Yes, of course, I promise."

"Pinky promise?"

He chuckles at her playfulness. "Pinky promise."

She sticks out her pinky finger as he accepts it and grips onto it tightly.

"God, I'm so lucky to have you. I love you so much."

She smiles warmly at him. "I love you so much too."

Peter doesn't hesitate to lean in and kiss her, filled with love and compassion. She holds onto his good cheek as he roams his hands around her waist. Hesitating, he pulls away from her due to the need for oxygen.

Their eyes lock intensely for what seemed to have lasted forever. Y/N allowed herself to get lost in Peter's gorgeous caramel eyes. It seemed like an infinite abyss that was calling out for her.

Recovering, Y/N begins to observe Peter's exhausted features. His eye bags, his ruffled hair, his wrinkled shirt, and his sleepy eyes. She felt extremely awful for him, because—well, she couldn't do much to help him.

"Aw, you poor thing. Come here."

She opens her arms, inviting him to cuddle on the couch. Peter gladly accepts and melts into the hug.

"You don't know how amazing this feels."

"Actually, with the overload of cuddles you give me every night, I think I do."

Peter chuckles softly at her response. "Well, how else could I possibly show my eternal love for my exceptional girlfriend?"

Y/N giggles and plants a soft kiss on his forehead. She wraps her arms protectively around him with a warm embrace.

"Hey, I really appreciate this. For staying up so late waiting for me. For trusting me. And, just... for never leaving my side. You're the best."

Peter rolls around and gives her a small yet passionate kiss on the lips. "The absolute best."

He suddenly notices a pink hue starting to paint across Y/N's cheeks, which causes a playful smile to grow on his lips.

"Not used to being pinned down, I see."

This only managed to somehow cause her cheeks to redden even more than before.

"See, I can be smooth too."

Giggling, she pecks his soft lips gently. "I love you."

"I love you too, babe."

Once again, Peter relaxes into the cuddle, feeling safe and secure in his girlfriend's arms.

And then, the words tipped out of his mouth. He couldn't hold it for any longer. He couldn't bear to keep a secret from her. He knew that she deserved to know. After everything she's done for him, it was only right.

"I'm Spider-Man."

Caught off-guard, Y/N glances down at Peter, unable to tell if it was sarcasm or not.

"Y-You're what now?"

Peter sat up straight on the couch, carefully staring into her shocked eyes. "I... I'm your friendly, neighborhood, Spider-Man."

"You're not kidding, are you?"

"No, I'm not."

It all made so much sense now. The pieces started to form together in Y/N's brain, answering so many of her unsolved questions. The sudden disappearances, the bruises, the coming-home-late-at-nights, the Stark internship, the horrible excuses he had sometimes—everything. And, it felt as though a part of her always knew.

"Oh, Pete, I am so sorry." Y/N practically threw herself at him, giving him a tight hug.

Out of all the scenarios Peter had thought of, not once did y/n apologizing ever come across his mind.

"Oh, Y/N, I am so sorry. Why are you sorry?"

"Because—you have to go out there every night and literally save the world while I'm at home complaining and wondering why you always came back so late. I'm so sorry, I never knew."

"Hey, it's okay. Everything's going to be okay. No more secrets now, alright?"

A tear of mixed emotions formed from her dark eyes, falling onto Peter's back. "Yeah, no more secrets."

Peter tightens the hug, tears falling from his exhausted eyes.

"I love you, okay? If you ever need anything, I'm always here for you."

He chuckles lightly at the words he had heard. God, he felt absolutely lucky to have her. "I love you too, Y/N."

likes and reblogs are vv appreciated. ♡

[erule]

Can i request prompt 6 from the prompt list with Tom holland or peter parker ? Can it be angst or heavy angst (with a happy ending if u want or not ) maybe with Friends to lovers ?? Thank you !!:)

Weak in the knees | p.p.

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Summary: You’ve been in love with Peter for years, but he has always been with MJ. Now, he tells you that they broke up but you don’t know that the reason is you.

Warnings: angst, fluff, friends to lovers trope, happy ending

Word count: 1.1K

A/N: hi! I chose number 6 and Peter Parker. Thanks for the request, hope you like it!! Also a big THANK YOU to each and every one of you, because you follow me and you like my stories. Feedback is always appreciated by a writer! Hope y’all like it. Enjoy! X

Prompt: “You’re always gonna be my weakness”.

(you’ll find it in the story marked in bold).

[This story participates to my 2.2K followers celebration party].

His smile has always made you weak in the knees. Always. There hasn’t been a time you recall it hasn’t.

It was fabulous at high school, because you could see him bring light at the end of the hallways with that, even when it was directed to somebody else and not you. To Ned. To MJ. You even learnt when it was only for her eyes, because he was falling for her. You could have said it to Ned, when it was wide and shiny. When he was in love with her. It wasn’t the same, when he liked your jokes. But now, now you can’t even enjoy it, because you go to another college while he’s with them. You bet that he’s still smiling at MJ in that particular way, something you’ll never even see, but even if you miss it, maybe you’re better off alone. Jealousy is not something that belongs to you, but you felt it as something borrowed. Now you’re not in high school anymore and you don’t see Peter often as before, luckily. Things are getting better.

That’s what you thought, at least.

“Peter?” You ask outside of the college, surprised. You almost lost the grip from your books. You weren’t supposed to see him today.

“Hi,” he says, a brief smile on his face and you already know that something is wrong.

“What happened?”

“Why do you always ask me that?”

“Because we barely see each other now, so when you come here there’s always some mess I have to clean up,” you reply, starting to walk away. He follows you.

“Well, not this time! I just wanted to say hello to you,” he says and you furrows your eyebrows.

Something is definitely wrong.

“Another fight with MJ? Send her some flowers, she’s gonna love them”.

“You love flowers, she hates them”.

“I’m sorry if I don’t know your girlfriend’s tastes,” you reply, with resentment.

“She’s not my girlfriend anymore,” he murmurs and you suddenly stop.

They’ve been together for three years. You have waited for them to break up as if it could have been your choice to confess him that you love him for so long, but now, his whispers have taken you by surprise.

“What?”

“You didn’t think about that, did you?” He asks ironically, but you don’t move a muscle, still in shock. “It’s not a mess you have to clean up, don’t worry. She broke up with me two months ago, but I wanted to tell you in person,” he adds. Then, he sighs, his hands in his pockets. “I’ve missed you, Y/N. I realized that the only person I wanted to talk to about this was you. Not even Ned. Just you,” he says.

You swallow hard.

“Why? Why me?”

“Because you’re my best friend,” he replies confused, as if it was obvious.

“Am I?”

“Y/N?”

You sigh, then you sit down on a bench and he does the same. You don’t want to fight and you don’t want to tell him everything, but all of these mixed feelings are killing you from the inside, so you had to stay still. He’s still looking at you, numb, genuinely curious about what you’re thinking right now.

“You’ve been busy in the past few months. I didn’t even get that you broke up with her, because you stopped texting me”.

“She did,” he repeats and you tilt your head, astonished. “She didn’t want to be with me anymore”.

“But she seemed so in love with you!” You exclaim and even your own words take you by surprise.

“Yeah, but she didn’t want to be with somebody that was always on the phone with another person,” he says.

How great, you think, there’s even another one that he preferred over me.

“And who’s this?” You ask, already tired of this stupid and hurtful conversation.

He takes a deep breath and then he gives you a smile that he didn’t show you ever. It was only meant for MJ and MJ only. Now, it gives you butterflies. Your stomach could explode.

“You. It has always been you, Y/N”.

You shake your head vigorously. No, it can’t be. This is a joke or a lost bet. It can’t be possible. It’s painful and sad that he’s playing with your feelings as they were a toy, now.

“You should be ashamed of that, Peter. You don’t have to make fun of me, even if you know that I like you,” you say, trying to walk away, but he stops you by taking your wrist around his fingers. The touch burns your skin.

“I wouldn’t do it, Y/N, you know me”.

“No, I don’t know you anymore! I’ve been in love with you for years, three years of my life spent by being in the darkness of your smile and now you’re telling me that you want to be with me? This is unbelievable,” you say, with tears in your eyes. “Unbelievable,” you whisper again.

“Y/N…”

“I’ve studied you as if you were a test to pass. I’ve learnt how many moles you have, I’ve learnt that you hate strawberries but you love chocolate, that you put your friends over being Spider-Man, that you don’t go away if I don’t come home safe after you’ve driven me all around the city because it’s the only way I calm down when I’m upset. And I know, I knowhow your smile lights up when you see MJ and it’s not the same when you look at me,” you say and it hurts you more that it should.

“Maybe it means that either I’m a great actor or just a terrible liar, because you haven’t looked at me when I was staring at you,” he replies with a smile and now, you see it. It’s warm like the sun on your skin in Summer. It’s full of light. It’s the very dee and blue see that caresses your body when you go to the beach. And it’s directed at you.

“How come have I not see it?” You ask him, but maybe it’s more a question to yourself.

“I developed these feelings in high school, but I accepted them only a year ago. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, Y/N. You’re too important to me,” he says.

You squeeze his hand.

“Please, give me another smile,” you say and he chuckles.

“Why?”

“Because has always made me weak in the knees,” you answer, a little embarrassed.

“Oh. Well, you’re always gonna be my weakness”, he says with a smile that could light up the whole city.

[ebonyheartnet]

-Recording begins-

Spider-Man: Hi folks! I’d like to give a PSA to my usual villains, and anyone else with ideas for the next two months.

Spider-Man: *holds up a brick sized lump of metal* See this? It’s titanium!

Spider-Man: *starts flattening it out and shaping it*

Spider-Man: See, we all know that I’m crazy strong, but I never wanna really hurt anybody right? Right. While that hasn’t changed, something very important does right around this time of year.

Spider-Man: *pulls off a glove and pulls a chunk into a long stem with his nails carving lines for added texture*

Spider-Man: See, this is what we like to call exam season. Anybody who knows anything about college can tell you that it drives people up the wall, and I already climb mine when I’m antsy.

Spider-Man: *starts winding the thin sheet around the stem, delicately crimping petals in place*

Spider-Man: I do wanna be clear that this isn’t a threat, okay? I’m still not interested in crossing the line, which brings me to my point.

Spider-Man: *throws the titanium rose at the brick wall behind him, stem first, and embeds it all the way through*

Spider-Man: /That/ was restrained because I could focus enough to have full control. If I’m extremely tired or otherwise distracted, there’s just as much risk of me slipping up as someone operating heavy machinery. I’m probably not going to remember what sleep is for two whole months, so remember!

Spider-Man: *pulls out a brick and snaps it like a cookie*

Peter fucking Parker: Don’t.

[bethanyeliseart]

The Fantastic Four Family🩵💫

[cada4us]

PETER PARKER HEADSHOT COMMISSION -

and a silly little sketch of Johnny too <3 i forgot to post these

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

"Peter didn't say anything to Miguel cause he was scared of Miguel after what he just saw him do."

umm what did he see

I mean yeah he saw Miguel bugging out but like..

Peter just saw Miles - a 15 year old - beat Miguel. I don't know

if he's still SO scared of Miguel in that moment doesn't that imply that Peter thinks he's weaker than Miles?

IS he weaker than Miles? Cause if that's the case-

But if he is more powerful than Miles then wouldn't he be able to beat Mig-

you know what girl I ain't even gonna let that thought be thunk lemme shut the hell up

[t-lostinworlds]

500 miles of fluff: peter + "this movie is really scary, but you're into it so i'm trying not to cover my face the whole time, but-what is that?" and "i mean... i-i'm cool with sharing the bed if you are"

-cutetomholland (ignore this if you get a lot of requests!!)

A/N: i couldn't stop laughing while writing this help. peter's the scaredy cat in this one. a mood. bc this is basically how i am with horror movies lmao. hope you like this @cutetomholland <3 also consider this my valentine's gift to everyone! (even tho there's nothing valentine-esque about this 😭)

peter parker x avenger!fem!reader | wc: 1.2k | best friends to lovers | prompts in bold!

You and Peter had the whole compound to yourselves.

He was yet to decide if that was a good or a bad thing.

Not when you two were in the cinema room taking absolute advantage of the new screen Tony bought that took up the whole wall along with the modified 3D glasses he helped tweak himself to make it more realistic and featherlight like you weren't wearing anything at all.

It was a great upgrade.

If only it wasn't a horror movie you were watching.

Peter's body jolted when a shadow crossed the screen.

"You okay?"

"Y-Yeah, yeah, I am perfectly fine."

"You look like you've just seen a ghost," you joked as if the main character in the movie wasn't being hunted by a ghost at this very moment.

"Ha. Funny." He rolled his eyes, pressing his tongue against his cheek to stop his smile at the sweet sound of your laugh.

He flinched when the house lights in the movie flickered.

"Peter, we can stop the movie if you want," you said, sincerity coating your tone. "If it's too scary for you, we can turn it off. I don't mind."

Shaking his head, he shot you a smile. "This movie is really scary, but you're into it so I'm trying not to cover my face the whole time, but—WHAT IS THAT?!"

Peter's eyes widened when he saw something crawling toward him, a distorted body of a girl, dark, long hair, eyes white, veiny, mangled face.

Then, it lunged, Peter shrieking at the top of his lungs as he jumped away from it, heart pounding, lungs heaving as he pressed his burning forehead against the cool concrete.

He only realized how far he'd leaped when he heard your laughter, right below him.

Peter was on the goddamn ceiling.

"Glad to know you're leaving me to fend for myself if some ghost attacks us," you snorted, head on the back of the couch to meet his eyes. "I didn't even know you could jump that high."

"Stupid 3D glasses," he grumbled, truly regretting his improvement on it. He glanced at the screen, yelping as he screwed his eyes shut. "Y/N! Don't fucking pause it there!"

"Oh shit! Sorry! I'm—" You burst out laughing, rolling onto the floor with a soft thud before you clicked back to the Netflix menu screen.

Peter glared as you clutched your stomach, throwing the glasses at you.

You only laughed harder.

"I hate you."

"No you don't."

Yeah, he truly didn't.

It was quite the opposite if he was honest.

"Come back down," you said in heaps of giggles, sitting back on the couch and tapping the cushion. "Let's watch the new Puss in Boots movie, get your mind off it."

•••

Sometime in the middle of the night, hours after you'd already bid your good nights and went to your separate rooms, a storm graced New York.

He was hoping it'd help cool the grueling heat. 

Peter was sweating.

It definitely wasn't because he'd been lying still on his back with the blankets pulled up to his chin, making sure his feet weren't out the duvet let alone hanging on the edge of the bed.

He flinched at the sudden crack of thunder.

He swallowed as his eyes darted around the room, the lamp on his bedside warming the walls.

Shit.

Now he was really thirsty.

"Oh my God," he groaned, throwing the blankets off him, shivering at the cold, conditioned air. "You're fucking Spider-Man, an Avenger. You've fought aliens. You can deal with a fucking ghost."

That was his mantra as he ventured out of his room and into the kitchen, over and over as he pulled out a glass from the cupboard, filled it with water, drank it empty, refilled. He said it repeatedly as he made his way back to his room.

But then he saw it.

A shadow moving on the wall.

There was a flash of lightning, his eyes widening as his blood ran cold.

Four limbs, twitching and convulsing as its body crawled down the stairs.

Thunder boomed.

Peter fucking ran.

High-pitched screams echoed through the compound, ones he didn't even know his vocal cords could ever achieve as he bolted down the halls toward the opposite direction.

Then he bumped into something, a body.

Peter fell on his ass with the most lady-like screech as he backed away from—

"Jesus Christ, Peter! It's me!"

He blinked, only for a second before he scrambled to his feet. You squeaked when he all but threw you on his shoulder, arms around you securely and ran toward the elevator.

"What the fuck are you doing!"

"Something's crawling down the stairs! She's coming to get us! We should leave!"

"Peter, STOP!" your voice boomed, stunning him enough for you to wiggle out of his hold and get your feet on the ground. You hastily cupped his face, exhaling deeply, "Breathe."

"B-But—"

"Nothing's coming to get us," you reassured, a soft smile on your lips. "FRIDAY, turn on all the lights, please."

"Yes, miss, Y/N."

Peter squinted at the sudden brightness, barely making out the slight tug on his arm as you interlaced your fingers together.

"Come on."

"I-I don't think it's a good idea to go back there."

"I'm sure it's nothing," you said, squeezing his hand. "You trust me, right?"

He did.

Frankly, he'd probably follow you anywhere even if it led to his death—most likely strangled by a ghost.

"See?" you hummed once you reached the stairs, squeezing his hand and gesturing towards the vacuum with four mechanical arms attached to it. "It's just a hoover."

"Who the fuck thought giving that thing tentacles was a good idea?"

"Easier for it to go down the stairs. Come on."

Peter didn't question where you were taking him next, but then all of a sudden he was standing in your room, brows furrowed as he watched you settle on the bed.

"Hey," you called, patting the space next to you. "Come here."

"B-Beside you?"

"I mean…I-I'm cool with sharing the bed if you are," you said, smiling shyly.

With heated cheeks, Peter climbed onto your twin-size bed, leaving enough space in between as he lay still, flat on his back, staring at the ceiling.

"That was so embarrassing," he grumbled, rubbing a palm over his warm face.

"Nothing to be embarrassed about. Horror movies just aren't for everyone and that's okay."

He turned to you. "You don't think I'm a coward?"

"Absolutely not," you said without hesitation, laying on your side to fully face him. "You're one of the bravest men I know, Pete."

"Except with creepy-looking ghosts."

"Yeah, except that," you giggled. "Go to sleep."

He sighed, smiling sadly. "I can't. It's stuck in my head."

You hummed, shuffling closer, the tip of your nose nudging his.

Peter held his breath, letting it out as a low hum when his lips met yours.

At last.

Fingers in his hair, your sweet sighs tickling his cheek, a taste of mint mixed with the taste of you was all that ran through his mind, rendering him dizzy, breathless.

"Does that help?" you whispered after a moment, thumb caressing his cheek tenderly.

Peter smiled. "Only when it includes cuddles."

You laughed, opening your arms wide, and he didn't even hesitate as he snuggled into them, cheek against your chest, your steady heartbeat and the warmth of your skin lulling him to sleep.

"Good night, Peter."

Who would've thought his cowardness when it came to horror films would finally get him the girl of his dreams?

⤷ still accepting asks & requests! come join and frolic with me!

BLOG NAVIGATION • MAIN MASTERLIST

↬ thank you for reading! reblog & leave a comment if you enjoyed. feedback is always appreciated!

✉ NO TAGLIST: go follow @t-lostinlibrary​​​ and turn on notifications to get updated on my works!

© t-lostinworlds, 2023 ✘ I do NOT give any permission to repost, translate, & use any of my works (writings, gifs, dividers, etc.) on any platform, with credit or otherwise. Please respect that. Thank you.

[softgrungeprophet]

Peter Parker swearing:

"Holy @$#%%" - ("Holy shit") (Amazing Spider-Man #597)

—

"@☆xxx%#@ bureaucrats!" - ("Goddamn/Fucking bureaucrats!") (Amazing Spider-Man #244)

—

"#$%& me" - ("Fuck me.") (Amazing Spider-Man #798)

—

"#^&$!&!! Johnny Storm and then %#^@$#$&@! his %@#$^!!" - (your guess is as good as mine) (FF vol 1 #17)

—

"Insulate the hell out of it." (bonus dirty talking his own suit, with his tits out) (Sensational Spider-Man vol 2 #27)

—

"Aw, #$%&." ("Aw, shit," knowing Slott's Whedon-esque dialogue patterns, but I'm choosing to read it as "Aw, fuck" instead) (Spider-Man vol 4 #10)

—

Will add more as I come across them.

I'm trying to amass a collection... literally no reason other than "for funsies" lol — so on the off chance anyone wants to send me any other scenes of Peter swearing or saying questionably inappropriate things, feel free! i just ask you to keep it to 616 comics peter/spidey only, preferably, and please include the issue number 🙏

(also don't send me the panel of Ben cussing out a news reporter (iirc), or panels of Kaine. I'm not putting them in this post cause that doesn't count as Peter; they're different people.)

[hazel-callahans]

was at my local comic book store, and i saw that there's just a new run of the 1984 battleworld, and i grabbed it immediately. thank god for the new spideytorch crumbs headed my way during this limited run.

[melina-mellow]

I'm sorry, but the idea of the MCU Fantastic Four being time displaced from the 60s makes Peter and Johnny's dynamic a thousand times funnier.

Just the idea of Johnny saying some weird 60s slang and Peter going "????? What the fuck????" is sending me.

Like I feel like Johnny would adapt fairly quickly to the modern age, so I'd imagine he just does that to mess with Pete.

[lialialow]

Webs and Threads

Fluff -> Angst Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings Swearing

Synopsis You and Peter have been together for years, and just when you have managed to find something you care deeply about, Peter messes it all up.

A/N Thank you for 100 followers! Requests are open

Word Count 2.3k

For years you had dealt with Peter, slowly fallen in love with him after years of friendship; moved in together. As time went on, the time he spent at home became shorter, his nights became longer; so you found comfort in a new hobby.

Ever since you were young, you knew you had an apparent flair for fashion. Whether it was dressing up as a princess at the age of six, or learning how to sew your own clothes at the age of thirteen; fashion had always played a major part in your life.

Your mother had always dreamed of becoming a fashion designer and she supported you through it all, not only was it your passion, but also her dearest aspiration.

For almost a decade, you were sure fashion was going to be the one and only thing you did for the rest of your life, that you were destined to be a designer.

But when in life do things ever go to plan, and after your parents divorced and you moved to brooklyn with your father; it just became much easier to forget most things that reminded you of your mother. And so fashion became rare in your life and you ended up studying marketing, not going to fashion school.

Few years later, and you realised it had been a terrible mistake for you to drop fashion, and when you met Peter; a boy who made you feel worth something, who truly loved you and was never afraid to stand for what he believed in. You were inspired by his love for you and so you went back to the thing that really made your life feel worthwhile.

Designing clothes, making them. You bought half a dozen sketch books, started making daily trips to buy fabrics. Peter was just as enthusiastic as you, he felt bad that he was constantly out, and was more than overjoyed that you had found something that you enjoyed, just as much as he enjoyed his superhero-ing.

Walking you to the stores, he loved seeing the way your face lit up at the sight of walls covered in multi-coloured fabric; the way your hand would tentatively reach out to feel the material as if it was a far away dream.

Your smile had been the first thing he had fallen in love with, and the way your nose would scrunch whenever you found something you particularly liked. And this expression was present all the while you browsed through the dozens of fabrics.

“Y/n, we’ve been here for a while, have you found anything? I’m sure there’s other stores?” Peter asked as he walked up to you.

“No, we can’t leave, this is the one place my mum wouldn’t ever stop talking about, she called it ‘designer heaven’, so I have to get the fabric from here,” you said indignantly.

“Of course love,” Peter turned back to the towering wall of fabric that faced him. The colours were shockingly varied and kind of gave him a headache; but then again anything for you.

The next week or so, Peter spent days walking with you to the stores, carrying countless fabrics for you. He even surprised you with a mannequin and sewing machine, this boy truly loved you.

The first few days you spent thinking up designs, but to no avail did you come up with anything of value. Dresses were in no shortage in any sense, trousers seemed to clog up your wardrobe and any other ideas just seemed incredibly unoriginal. It seemed any sense of creativity had left your mind.

- - -

Peter had just swung into the window, his mask in his hands.

“Hey” He said, walking behind where you were sitting, “What are you working on?” His hands came down onto your shoulders, and you realised how alarmingly cold they were. Instinctively, you flinched away and turned around to meet Peter’s eyes.

“Your hands are freezing,” You said to him, taking his hands into yours and rubbing them between your hands, “I’m shocked you haven’t gotten frostbite yet,”

“I’m fine, promise,” Peter reassured you, moving his hands to cup your cheeks,“You didn’t answer my question, what’re you working on?”

“Nothing yet, but… I might have an idea,” you answered in response, opening your sketchbook and starting to draw a design for Spider-man’s brand new and improved suit; to ensure that the next time Peter went out, he wouldn’t return with ice cold hands.

Each and every time Peter came home he went over to where you were working, determined to see what you were working on. You were just as stubborn, your sketchbook remained locked in your drawer when you weren’t using it; when you finally started making the suit you hid it in a locked cupboard. You were determined to make it a surprise for him.

The suit had much better material, it insulated heat, had numerous pockets, and incorporated a sleeker design for his web shooters. In your opinion, it was very simply, genius. You couldn’t wait to show it to Peter; it would be the most perfect anniversary present.

You worked whenever you could, between your boring job as a marketing assistant, and the regular daily life; it seemed the smallest part of the day was spent making the suit. Though it occupied your mind the majority of the day.

- - -

It was late that night and you had been sewing away at the suit. Soon, your eyes had begun to droop and without your knowledge you slipped into sleep, your head laying on your desk.

Peter had just come home, it had been a long day, yet the first thing he saw was your figure slumped onto your desk. You looked adorable. Walking towards you, he intended to carry you to the bed you shared, but his eyes couldn’t help but glance down at what you were working on. And he saw it, a truly exquisite design that you had clearly spent hours manufacturing, even though it was only a sketch.

Not wanting to ruin the surprise even more, he swiftly carried you bridal style to the bedroom. Your head automatically dropped onto the pillow, it was obvious you were exhausted; yet you still looked the epitome of beauty. If you had woken up in that moment, Peter would look very much like a creepy guy staring at you, but you did not wake up, so Peter carried on in his stupor.

Simply put, he could not believe he had gotten so lucky and managed to have found someone as perfect for you. Yet he felt guilty, he did not deserve you in the slightest. You were so amazing and brilliant and talented in every sense, and he was never there.

There were times when he just disappeared for days at a time without alerting you at all. It killed you inside every time; the thought that he might be dead, his body lying in an alleyway, forgotten. But Peter couldn’t give up his life as spider-man, it was the only thing that he felt gave him a purpose.

Finally, he came out of his stupor and got ready for bed, this was one of those rare and few occasions when you would wake up with him by your side, and the both of you were the better for it.

- - -

Two months later, you had finally finished working on the suit. After many all-nighters, and weeks of keeping the secred you were so excited you felt as if your heart was going to leap right out of your chest. The suit lay neatly wrapped in a secret compartment in the bottom of your cupboard. That night was your anniversary, and you were so excited to finally show him what you were working on.

You set everything up, the dinner, the decorations, everything was perfect. You poured yourself a glass of wine, got into the outfit you had spent far too much money on, but it made you look hot so it was worth it. Peter had promised that morning that he would be back by eight, so at eight you had finished setting up the food, and was waiting patiently for the door or window to open. But eight o’clock came and went, so did nine, then ten. Before you knew it, it had hit midnight, and still Peter wasn’t home.

Worry had overwhelmed your thoughts, his lifestyle was dangerous, and there was no telling what danger he had gotten himself into. He could be dead for all you knew. The love of your life could be lying in an alleyway, dead, on your anniversary, and not a soul would know. You couldn’t help but pace around the apartment. You called him, voicemail, again and again it just kept going to voicemail. You called his friends, they hadn’t seen him, you texted and texted, nothing.

Nausea filled your stomach, and you sat back down onto the couch, but immediately jumped back up again. You couldn’t stay still, and just ran and ran around the house like a complete mad woman, your phone in your hand. Eventually you decided the best course of action was to just sit and wait, for a call, for a sign he was still alive.

Time passed without you realising, it was early morning when you finally jumped up with a start, the front door had opened. Peter had finally returned from the great unknown. He wasn’t dead. You were in two minds. One part of you wanted to walk up to him and cry into his arms, make sure that he was not dead, and was actually there. The other half was in absolute agony, and wanted nothing more than to just walk out and leave him.

“Where were you?” you uttered, picking up a wine glass placed on the settee next to you.

Peter spun around on his heels, he had not even seen you on the couch.

“I was out,” he answered sheepishly, walking over to kiss you on the head.

”Do you even know what today is?” you pushed him off you and stood up, looking over his disgruntled appearance, he was clearly drunk.

Peter’s eyes glanced over the decorations still adorned perfectly around the room, realisation dawned across his features, immediately sobering him up. His day had been so chaotically hectic that the importance of today had barely crossed his mind; and he had found himself in a bar, drunk as hell and sandwiched between two girls, neither of which were you. It took him far too long to finally make his way back to the home the two of you shared.

How could have he have been so stupid.

Inside he knew there was no way that you would possibly forgive him for missing today, he had bore witness to your sheer excitement for his present, watched as you tirelessly worked to finish it on time.

This was betrayal of the highest sense.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry, I swear, I forgot-”

You walked off, not wanting to hear more of his meaningless apologies; yet he trailed behind you in guilt like a lost puppy. At the start of your relationship you would have forgiven him, let this pass, allowed some space for his hectic superhero life, but you had been together for years. You longed for him to finally put you first. And out of all the things he had forgotten, this was by far the worst.

This was the anniversary of your first date, the first time you saw Peter as more than just a friend, it was the anniversary of the start of your story together and he had just forgotten. Instead succumbed to the taunts of alcohol, alcohol that he could have enjoyed with you.

Truth was, you were not only hurt, but disappointed, after so many hours of labour that you had dedicated to this day; he somehow forgot. Peter didn’t put you first, on the one day that your love for one another should be all that mattered.

But that was evidently not what had crossed his mind.

“Please, stop talking,” You turned around to face him, “I thought you were dead, Peter, dead. Do you know how many nights I spend having nightmares of you being dead? And how today, I thought- I thought that you were actually dead? Do you know how much that hurts me? To know that you were probably just out fucking some other chick and getting drunk? And on our anniversary?”

Peter’s hand hit the kitchen tabletop, “Y/n you know I would never, ever cheat on you; you know that? Right?”

A disappointed expression covered your face, and you couldn’t help but flinch. You knew Peter would never cheat on you but it just hurt too much for you to admit that, your pride could not take it.

“That doesn’t make up for the simple fact that you are never here, I go to bed alone, I wake up alone,”

“Well I’m sorry that I actually have something to do with my life, compared to you-”

The moment the words left his mouth, Peter’s face fell in shock. He regretted even uttering those words and then knew that he had fucked this up.

Silence descended between the two of you.

“I-I’m going to bed, sleep on the couch,” you said, staring directly at Peter.

There was no softness in your eyes, just cold, hard anger. Peter watched as you walked off, and wanted to follow you, but could not bring his legs to move. You walked into your bedroom and slammed the door shut. The neatly wrapped suit lay ignored on the bed. Just seeing it brought tears into your eyes; red blinded your vision and you tossed the present into the depths of your wardrobe.

[siennafrxst]

↳ a snowy night 𖤐𓈒࣪₊˚

pairing: peter parker x female reader

word count: 0.6k words

cw: fluff, slight angst(?)

a/n: again, as I’ve said previously, this fanfic works with any of the peters (tobey, andrew, or tom) so feel free to choose whichever you want to imagine this story with.

Peter and Y/N are strolling along the path on a cold December night. The frigid atmosphere embrace them soothingly as a gush of cold wind hits them. Snowflakes fall unto their rosy cheeks along with the calming silence being filled by their snowy footsteps. They were heading back home after their fun day spent together... as friends.

"Hey, thanks for today. I had a lot of fun."

Y/N turns towards Peter, grinning at those words. "No problem, I did too."

Peter returns a similar smile as they continue to walk closer to their destination.

"I'm curious—what was your favorite part of today?"

He turns his head towards her, recalling the events of today. "Hmm... definitely eating dinner. God, the steak was heavenly."

Y/N raises an eyebrow at him accusingly. "Oh, really? I thought you'd say that it was when we played in the arcade, but if you say so."

"Excuse me?"

"What? I saw how thrilled you were every time you managed to score a point in the basketball game."

Peter sighes in defeat. "Alright, fine. But you definitely enjoyed it much more than I did. You took soooo long at the karaoke station."

She scoffs at him in disbelief. "Need I remind you that you enjoyed it as much as I did. You sang your heart out in every single song and you cannot tell me otherwise."

Rolling his eyes, he sighes exasperatingly once more. "Fine, let's just both agree that karaoke was the highlight of our day. Deal?"

She chuckles softly as she nods at his question. "Deal."

They continue to walk their way towards home, both content yet exhausted from their little date today. But unlike most days, this particular one felt... different. And they both knew it. The tension seemed more intimate. The way their eyes connected was an unexplainable euphoria. The way they acted around each other was... new. It was refreshing for either of them.

Similar thoughts were trailing through Y/N’s head, and she decided to act upon it. She suddenly stops in their tracks, catching Peter off-guard.

"Y/N, what are you doing?"

Her eyes darted across his coffee-colored ones. Goddamn, since when were they so stunning? Unsure with what was going on with her, she lets herself get lost in his eyes, seeming as though they were calling out to her like an infinite abyss.

"Hey, you good over there?"

Snapping out of that 'unusual trance', she blinks multiple times in an attempt to bring herself back to reality. "Sorry, I just... sorry. Look, I think I need to tell you something."

Peter freezes. Was she going to say what he think she's going to? No, don't be ridiculous, this is just a small crush. It'll pass over time. Besides, what if he loses one of his only friends over a stupid gamble?

"What is it?"

"Do you notice the same things I do? The same feelings I've... gained?"

"You're going to have to explain a lot more than that," he says, even though he knew exactly what she was talking about.

She should've realized that the next words to fall out of her mouth may have been a ruthless mistake. "Cut the bullshit. Our relationship has changed over the past few weeks and you know it. I know it. Goddamnit, Pete, we’ve known each other for so long and yet these past few days have been messing with my head. Why can't we just-"

Cutting her off, he suddenly leaned in and attached their lips, causing her to gasp. As she loosened at his touch, she allowed herself to melt into him. It was almost as though their lips connected together perfectly, like a missing puzzle piece. Her delicate hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping onto them as though it was their last day.

fun fact: this was originally a bucky x reader fanfic, but I noticed that my peter fics were gaining more attention so I just replaced their names. 😭

likes and reblogs are vv appreciated.