#peterparker smut

[eternalstann]

masterlist 🤍

a complete collection of my work, enjoy!

*NSFW material marked with an asterisk*

Marvel

Peter Parker

Tom Holland

Druig

Bucky Barnes

The Last Kingdom

Sihtric - coming soon!

D.C

Bruce Wayne - coming soon!

[webslingingslasher]

Could you write frat! Peter being obsessed with how hot reader is? Like always horny 24/7

frat peter is gonna get a lot of love in my wip, don't worry 💝

Peter’s got a big mouth and he loves to use it. 

Especially when it comes to declaring his love. 

“So pretty, did you know that?” 

It was the third time today he’s found himself placing biting kisses down your neck. 

“You might have told me once or-” you take in a shaky breath as Peter nibbles at your collarbone, “twice.” 

“What a shame. It should be the only words you ever hear.” 

“You do it close enough.” 

He smirks into your skin, it leaves a trail of goosebumps. 

You’d never have thought that the slightly out of place, quiet cute guy in the frat would be so greedy for your skin. You caught his eye and he needed to know everything about you at that moment. 

“You’re so needy, parker.” 

He pulled back and pinched at your bare hip, you tried to slide away but he pulled you closer. 

“It’s peter to you.” 

You sigh happily, “alright, peter, you’re so needy.” You emphasize his name, he responds by clicking his tongue. 

“Actually, I think it’s babe, or my personal favorite, god.” 

You snort, “god?” 

“Oh god! Oh god, oh my god! Babe, you feel so good, you make me sooo wet-” he gets cut off by you cupping a hand over his mouth, “if you want to keep hearing it you better shut up.” 

“I can’t help it, you just make so..” he trails off, his eyes working you over. He’s had you all to himself the entire day, and it’s still not enough. 

You make him feel so full of love and admiration the only way he can try to tell you is with his actions. 

Peter can’t hold it in, he hovers over you and starts kissing down your neck. 

“You look so gorgeous.” 

Your hand grips his curls. 

“And taste so so good,” 

“Flattery will get you-” 

“Shh… let me show you how good you make me feel.” 

[chiapetkinnie]

Mine

Warnings- unedited, unprotected sex, creampie, possessiveness and obsession. No use of Y/N, Peter kinda forces himself into reader.

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

Peter couldn’t take it anymore. How all these guys in your life treated you, and how you just let them. But he loved how you would run to him and cry in his arms. He loved how vulnerable you got around him.

He hated how much he loved you. The way you would get all flustered when someone would compliment you in the slightest bit. Or when his hands would brush against yours. He knew everything about you. He always watched you. No matter what you were doing. He made sure you were okay. How you would call him in the middle of the night to rant about something, and how you would sneak into his house to cuddle because you couldn’t fall asleep.

Peter loved everything about you. He had a whole shrine , a collection of you. Photos he took from his camera. You were beautiful. So beautiful you caught the attention of many guys. And he hated that. He wanted you all to himself. But it seemed that day would never come . His so called best friend got to you first. Peter tried to confess to you countless times, but he always chickened out. So Harry took it as an opportunity to steal you from him. Harry was handsome, rich, funny, no doubt you would say yes to when he asked you out. It also helped that you have been friends since forever.

He hated your relationship with Harry, at first it was sweet, he loved hearing you rant about little things in your relationship and how happy you were. But things started to take a turn. Harry started being an ass, you would run to Peter and cry to him about all the things Harry did, all the things he would say and do that mad you angry. Peter loved it , he loved how your relationship was terrible and he would add in how terrible Harry was and how you should break up with him. But you never would, you cared too much, you always do.

But this, this was Peter’s last straw. Harry was cheating on you with some hot blonde from Italy.

Of course Peter knew, but he didn’t wanna tell you himself, he wanted you to find out and come crawling to him.

“Peter”, you cried out knocking on his window.

Peter quickly let you in and you clung to his chest and cried. “Hey , hey what’s wrong?” He asked hoping his prayers have been answered. “Harry and I broke up.” Peter wipes your tears , “Why you guys were so Happy” He silently smiled. “Apparently not happy enough for him, he cheated on me” You smiled through the tears. “I walked into his room for our Friday night movie dates like we do every week, I brought snacks and everything, and there he was and some blonde chick on top of him,” You wipe your tears look up at Peter. “Did you know about this,” You ask him. Peter shakes his head, “Of course not, I had no idea about any of this, you guys seemed so happy.” He lifts up your chin. “I’ll tell you what, we can have your movie date here okay, just me and you.” Peter smiles.

You and Peter lay on the bed in each other’s arms watching a movie. Peters sits up and calls out your name. You turn towards him. “I just, there’s something I’ve needed to say to you for a while.” You tilt your head curiously , “Okay well, spit it out ”. Peter takes a deep breath, he was finally gonna do it, “ We’ve been friends for like ever, and I need to say that , Well I love you” You smile at him, “ I love you too Peter.” Peter shakes his head, “ No not like that, you don’t love me the way I love you,” he gets closer to you. “Oh” you whisper as he grips your thigh pulling you closer to him, if any closer your lips would touch. “ I just couldn’t stand all these years of all these guys not treating you right, you know I was gonna confess to you but Harry stole you from me. I’m sick and tired of not being able to have you , not being able to love you.” You blink in shock, he leans in to kiss you but you back away.

“ Peter, I just broke up with my boyfriend, who is your best friend, and you try to make a move on me.” You spoke in disbelief. “ I know but-“ Peter tried to say, “ No Peter, I can’t do this with you, not to Harry, not today.” You shook your head. Peter furrowed his brows, “ But he cheated on you, please, I just wanna make you feel good.” He pulls you back towards him and flips himself on top. He leans down and presses soft kisses to your neck. “ Just let me show you how good I can make you feel, how much I love you” He whispers in your ear. “Peter,” you whisper. He locks his lips onto yours. He caresses your face and deepens the kiss, “Please” he pleads. You look up at him and eventually nod your head yes.

Peter smiles and places his lips onto yours, his hands gently moving around your body. He makes his way down to the waist band of your shorts and slips his hand underneath and starts circling your clit. You gasp at his touch. Peter moved his hand down to your entrance and started pumping his fingers in. You let out a soft moan as Peter starts kissing and biting your neck. “ So pretty ,” He says , picking up some speed in his fingers. You try to hold on your moans. Peter pulls his fingers away and grabs your face. “ Don’t hold back your moans baby, I wanna hear you” you nod your head as a response.

You look up at him as he takes unbuckles his pants and takes out his length. Your mouth agape and he smirks. He brushes his thumb over your lips as he pushes himself into your core. Moans escaping both of your mouths from the feeling. He looks you in the eye waiting for your approval to move and you smile. He begins to thrust in and out. Heavy breaths and grunts escape from his mouth. You don’t hold back your moans of pleasure as he lifts up your waist fucking you deeper. You moan out searching for something to grab on. “ Fuck Baby, you feel so good, My sweet girl” he praises. He drops his hands from your waist. “ Turn around” he says . And you do so. His hands roam your body and he slaps your ass. He places a hand on your ass and rubs his dick on your entrance. “ My pretty girl” he says as he slips back inside.

The sound your skin slapping together fills the room.

You grip the bed sheets as he pushes your head down into the pillow. Moans escaping from your lips and praises from his. “My gorgeous girl, your doing so good for me, taking me so well”. Tears form in your eyes from how hard he’s thrusting, “ Harry never fucked you like this, he never loved you like this.” Peter yanked your head back and gripped your chin. “ Harry never made you feel good like this huh.” You shake your head and try to get the words out but you can’t .

Peter's hand makes it’s way back to your clit as he pounds into you. You smile in pleasure and moan as he circles around one more time, releasing your orgasm.

Peter smiled. He had finally won. He was the one. Making you cum, he was the one with his dick deep inside you making you moan like crazy. He was the one watching the way your ass bounced against his dick. He leaned his head back as he came inside and pulled out. Watching his seed drip out.

And he was the one who got to fill you up. He had won.

[tooearlyforthis]

Are We Still Friends? | Peter Parker

Ayo, did someone ask for a slightly depressing Peter Parker fic? Anyways, this fic is somewhat inspired by the song Are We Still Friends by Tyler the Creator <3

Pairing: Peter Parker x bsf!reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Synopsis: After being rejected by the only person that matters, Y/n struggles to come to terms with no longer having a best friend.

Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, mutual pining

Click here to see my masterlist

Every Friday of the summer, the residents of Forest Hills would stop whatever they were doing for one big barbecue. Fire hydrants were opened for the kids to play as the adults cooked whatever meat the butcher had given them that week. It was pure bliss. 

Y/n always looked forward to these Fridays during the summer. Even when the sun was beating down hard on the asphalt, the community gathered to have a great time. She spent almost every barbecue this year with her best friend and neighbor Peter Parker. The two had been close friends ever since he had moved in with his aunt and uncle as a little boy. 

They were inseparable from the moment they met, playing together, going to school, club activities; you name it, they did it. Their favorite hang-out spot, which hadn’t changed since they were little, was the fire escape. Y/n's apartment was only two over from Peter’s which meant they shared a fire escape overlooking the street below. 

It was the perfect getaway for whatever life threw at them. Shitty birthdays, a breath of fresh air, when uncles pass away…it was the remedy for everything. It also happened to be a great spot to watch the barbecue festivities below. 

On this particular Friday, Y/n sat atop the stairs, letting her legs dangle down below as her best friend settled into sitting next to her. She felt her heart leap as their shoulders collided, hoping that what she was about to tell him wouldn’t change this. 

“If I have to hear Mrs. Duval talk about her skiing trip one more time I might just run away,” Peter said, adjusting his position on the stairs. 

Y/n laughed and said, “Give her a break she has dementia!”

“Dementia or not I’m running away and I’m taking you with me.”

She watched as he stared off the fire escape, looking at the neighborhood below. He didn’t know how much that meant to her. A little joke about running off together and she felt herself being swept off her feet. 

“Hey Pete?” 

He turned to her with a smile.”Yeah?”

“Can I talk to you about something?” She rubbed her hands together, hoping that clammy feeling would go away. 

Turning his body to face her more, his expression getting a little more serious he joked, “Oh no am I being called into the principles office?”

Y/n chuckled. “No uh…I just wanted to…” She trailed off, not knowing how she was going to confess. 

“Is everything okay?”

“Y-yeah I just. Over the past couple months,” she began. “I just loved hanging out with you.”

She watched him smile, he cheeks getting slightly red. That was a good sign right? “Yeah I love hanging out with you too.”

“And like, we’ve been friends almost our entire lives so it feels silly that I’m only realizing this now but, I… I like you Peter. As more than a friend.”

Slowly looking up, she saw what she feared the most. The color had drained from Peter’s face, his eyes darting everywhere but at her. He shifted back slightly, adjusting himself a few inches away from her. 

“Oh…” he said, unable to think properly. “I’m not sure what to say to that, Y/n…”

What had she done? Why did she think this was a good idea? 

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, swinging her legs around back into the stairs. “I thought you felt the same but clearly I was wrong.”

“Y/n I’m sorry wait-“

“No, it’s okay. I misread things. Bye Peter.”

She got up quickly, climbing back through her apartment window without looking back. His voice rang out as she moved further into her apartment but she chose to ignore it. She knew what he was going to say. I’m sorry it’s not you, it’s me. I just don’t like you that way. She didn’t need him to hurt her more in this moment than she already felt. 

That was the last time she had spoken to Peter Parker. 

🕷🕷🕷

The school year was finally beginning and even though they weren’t friends anymore, could you still call them friends? It didn’t matter, even though they weren’t talking anymore, Y/n's crush never went away. 

Because of their lack of communication, she didn’t know what classes he had been given for the year and as she walked through the halls of her first day of junior year, she felt her heart leap with the chance that they might share a class. 

Scanning the room, she felt relief when she saw MJ. That was one of the harder parts of not speaking to Peter, they still shared all of the same friends. MJ was thankfully alone, something that felt increasingly rare as time passed. Approaching her at the lockers, Y/n crossed her arms and leaned against them. 

“Hey,” she said. 

MJ looked up from her book bag with a smile. “Hey,” she responded. “You ready to be seniors?”

“Ugh, I don’t know, I’m really not looking forward to the AP Gov class.”

“Yeah, I heard Mr. Gonzales isn’t that great. But…”

As MJ went on about their next class, Y/n felt her mind drifting away. She felt so nervous coming back to school after everything that had happened that summer. Her eyes scanned the halls, students filing in for the day's first class. 

That’s when she saw him. Peter stood at the other end of the hall, looking around before locking eyes with her. No, this is not where she would see him again. It was the first day of school and she didn’t want to deal with their situation. Without another word, she pulled MJ into the first empty classroom she could find.  

“What are you doing?!” MJ exclaimed as Y/n shut the door behind her. 

“I saw Peter and panicked,” she responded, taking a deep breath.

“You can’t keep avoiding him, Y/n. He’s your best friend.”

“Was,” she corrected. “I don’t think I could call him that after what happened.”

Y/n slumped down on the floor, wrapping her arms around her knees as she tucked them against her chest. Sighing, MJ got down on the floor, sitting next to her friend. There wasn’t much she could do right now. Emotions were still high and the best thing was to just let it happen. 

“I know it hurts,” MJ began as Y/n leaned against her shoulder. “But eventually things will get better. Who knows, maybe you and Peter could still be friends after all this.”

“I don’t know if we could…I mean, I’ve liked him for so long and the way he dismissed me was like it was a joke. I knew that confessing to him would change our relationship but I was so sure that he liked me back I hoped that it would be for the better. I took a chance and I chose wrong; there’s no going back from it.”

MJ wrapped her arm around her friend as she shed a tear. “I know, I know…” she consoled her. 

🕷🕷🕷

The first three periods of the day went surprisingly fine; once math class started it was hard to think of anything but the equations on the board. MJ wouldn’t be joining Y/n for lunch. She had to go to a meeting for journalism which was just starting back up again. 

As Y/n sat alone at the lunch table, silently eating her sandwich, she felt standing at the table in front of her. When she looked up, her lunch suddenly didn’t seem that appetizing. 

“Hey,” Peter began playing with the hem of his shirt. He pointing at the bench in front of him. “C-can I sit here?”

Y/n stared back up at him, not mouthing word, not even swallowing her sandwich bite. She watched as he sat down anyway, awkwardly shuffling in the seat. It was clear he hadn’t rehearsed this as the two sat in silence - she felt like he was starting into her soul. Her heart rate sped up and she knew what would become of her if she stayed. 

Peter began to open his mouth. “Je-“

He didn’t even have time to mutter name before she bolted upright, hastily grabbing her lunch before scurrying aware, dodging and weaving between students. She spit out her sandwich in the nearest trash can as she gasped for a breath. Why did he have to speak to her? In school for that matter?

Peter Parker was going to be the death of her.

🕷🕷🕷

Even though only a week had gone by since the start of school, Y/n had an ungodly amount of homework to complete. She sat hunched over at her desk, the lamp being the only source of light as the sun set throughout her study session. One of her moms had come in earlier that day asking her if she wanted to go out for dinner but she had refused, opting to finish her school work for the evening instead. 

So she sat at home, listening to the soft sounds of some lo-fi playlist she turned on as she struggled to complete an essay. A thud sounded loudly and Y/n looked up for only a minute, choosing to believe it was from the song she was listening to and went back to her work.

Soon, there was another thud, and then another. It was so loud and eruptive to becoming from the speakers. Thud! The sound rang out again. No, that wasn’t the song, it was coming from the fire escape. 

Y/n got up from her desk, turning off the music before walking over and lifting up her window. She peered onto the fire escape and seeing nothing coming from the left, she turned to the right and couldn’t believe the sight before her. 

Spider-Man was on her fire escape, clutching his side as he tried to open a window. No, that wasn’t Spider-Man, that was Peter. She gasped for a moment, trying to take it all in. Peter was Spider-Man? How and when? But most importantly, why didn’t he ever tell her?

He must’ve heard her small gasp because he twisted his head around, unsure of what was behind him. A little relief flashed in his eyes before he remember that he wasn’t standing in front of her as Peter, but the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

“Y/n, hey-“ he began.

She already begun to pull herself inside her room, not wanting to face him, especially with all this new information. “I should leave-“

“No!” he called out, watching her freeze in her window. Slowly she stuck her head back out. “Please don’t go just-“ he grunted, grabbing his side more. “Can you help me open the window?”

She could tell he was in pain, not from the amount of blood seeping onto the metal stairs beneath them but from the disgruntled look in his face. She hated that look. She had seen it plenty of times before. After a fight with Flash, tripping on the sidewalk and apparently being shot at. She could never turn him away with that look.

Without saying another word, she pulled herself full onto the fire escape, making her way over to help push his window open. She crawled in first, lending a hand for him to lean on as he jumped inside.Tossing his mask on his bed, he opted to lay on the floor, still gripping his side. 

“Thanks,” he said, looking up and seeing no Y/n in sight. 

She must’ve crawled back through his window because it was once again shut. Peter led his head fall back in a sigh. He needed to fix this but first, stitches. 

🕷🕷🕷

It was finally the next day of school and Y/n was still freaking out from the night before. She didn’t get back to studying, how could she after finding out her best friend- neighbor was Spider-Man? 

She silently walked to her locker, letting her head hang low as she continued to mull over everything she was feeling. Her first reaction was anger. Angry at him for not telling her of his secret life. Spider-Man had of course been around since before they stopped talking so why didn’t he tell her? Why did he tell his - at the time - best friend? 

Then the realization hit her. She didn’t need to help him. She couldn’t left him on that fire escape to fend for himself. From the stuff she had seen on the tv of him she knew he had probably gone through worse. But she did help him and that realization, that no matter what state their relationship was in, she would running to his aid. That no matter what - she would always love him. 

It’s a lot, to realize that you’re not just going through a phase of having a crush. And it’s so much worse when you hear said crush calling after you.

“Y/n!” Peter’s voice rang out through the halls. 

Why did he always seek her out in school? Y/n didn’t even bother to look back as she bolted down the hall into the first empty class room. Pacing back and forth she tried to calm herself down. Everything that had happened in the past week was becoming too much for her. Maybe breathing excesses could help?

Before she could even take a deep breath, the classroom door bursted open, a very out of breath Peter Parker standing in its wake. As the door slowly closed behind him, he moved towards her. 

“Hey-“ he began before getting cut off.

“What are you doing here Peter?” she asked in defeat. “Why did you follow me?”

Whatever confidence he had before this suddenly went away, leaving a stuttering boy in its place. He looked down at the ground, trying to form a sentence.

“S-sorry.. About last night…”

“Oh my god Peter, if you’re here because you think I’m gonna tell people?” she scoffed. “You know my lips are sealed.”

“T-thanks,” he muttered out, watching as she began to pace again in front of her. “Hey Y/n?”

“What?” she asked annoyed. 

“Are we still friends?” She stopped, looking over at him as he lifted his head to look at her, his brown eyes starting straight into her own. “C-can we still be friends?”

Y/n sighed, opening her mouth but know words came out. Could they still be friends? That was such a loaded question when everything was still fresh, like a wound that hasn’t had time to heal. 

“I-I don’t know, Peter,” she opted to tell him.

“I keep repeating that day over and over again in my mind and… everything went downhill so fast. We barely had time to talk-“

“-We didn’t have anything else to talk about,” she interrupted him. Glancing at the clock behind her, she realized what time it was. “I have to get to class,” she told him, walking past him.

She barely got the door open when he called out to her again. “Wait! Meet me on the fire escape? 9:30 tonight?”

What was she supposed to say to that? No, she didn’t have to agree to anything. “Goodbye, Peter.”

🕷🕷🕷

The whole day felt it went by in a flash and before Y/n knew it, she was back home studying again. Only this time, she hadn’t been able to focus. In fact, she hadn’t been able to focus all day.

She stared at the math homework in front of her, unable to even lift her pencil as there was a rapping at her window. Turning her head, she sighed knowing who was on the other side. Reluctantly, she opened it, letting him climb in. Moving to her bed, she watched as he awkwardly looked around like he hadn’t been in her room a million times before. 

“You didn’t meet me at 9:30,” he said, a crack in his voice.

Turning she looked at her alarm clock. It was 11:00. Had she really been staring at her homework for hours? 

She shrugged her shoulders. “I didn’t think we had anything else to say.”

“That’s not true we’re friends-“

Scoffing, she interrupted him. “Are we Peter? Are we still friends? I know you think so but it doesn’t feel that way to me.”

“Only because you won’t let us,” he tried with her, only to be met with the shake of her head. 

“I don’t know how we could go back to being just friends. You broke my hear that day… I thought you liked me too and-“

“I did like you!” He interrupted her, his voice erupting like he had been shouting the whole time. Y/n looked at him in shock, feeling her blood boil by the second. “I still like you.”

That was her breaking point. Liked her? He liked her and let her go through all this bullshit? Quickly, she stood up. 

“No!” she exclaimed.

“Y/n-“

“Don’t Y/n me! I confess my feelings to you, you tell me you don’t feel the same way and then turn around with this bullshit and expect me not to be mad? We haven’t even talked about the Spider-Man stuff yet.”

“Can you just let me explain?” he pleaded, making her look back up at him. 

She could see the hurt in his face, like she had done more damage to him than Flash or a bullet could ever do. And when Peter’s hurting, no matter how much she’s upset with him, she’ll go running to his aid. With a huff she sat back down on her bed, ready to hear out a boy that probably didn’t deserve speak at all. 

“I’ve been replaying that moment after the barbecue, every day in my head since it happened,” he began. “I had been waiting so long to hear you say those things. That the girl I liked finally liked me back. The little voice in my head was jumping with joy, itching to tell you I felt the same way. But then, this other little voice appeared taking over, it was Mr. Stark-“

Y/n scoffed. “Tony Stark?”

Peter nodded, pleading with his expression to let him finish. Not being able to resist, she let him.

“His voice was just, ringing through my head. Keep everything you care about at a distance, never let anyone get too close or you could lose it all. I-I didn’t want to lose you so I didn’t tell you about Spider-Man. And that was fine at first, only two other people knew about it - it was a secret I could keep.

But then you said all those things I desperately wanted to hear and I just wanted lean forward and kiss you and…Mr. Starks words echoed in my head. If I kissed you or told you I felt the same way. That meant telling you about Spider-Man and than meant a great possibility of me losing you.”

Y/n felt her heart break more than it already did, feeling a tear roll down her cheek as she watch Peter break down in front of her.

Soon, he continued. “Uncle Ben once told me that with great power comes great responsibility … and I didn’t want to have to choose you or my power because I would chose you every time.”

The room fell silent with his last words, Y/n trying to process everything he had told her. She wiped a tear from her cheeks, trying to compose herself.

“I understand if your still mad at me or don’t like me anymore but please,” Peter begged. “I just need my best friend back.”

Y/n shook her head, standing up to meet his eye line. “I don’t think we can ever just be friends, Peter.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, watching her walk closer to him until she was standing just a foot away. 

“You’re sure you still like me?”

“Yeah but-“ 

“Good,” she cut him off, grabbing both sides of his face and pulling him into a kiss. 

She could feel how tense he was, surprised by her sudden action before melting into the kiss. It was slow and sweet, neither of them having much experience between the both of them. But that didn’t matter, there was time to improve. Right now, they just needed to know everything was going to be alright.

As she pulled away from the kiss, she felt as he rested his forehead onto hers, a smile forming on his face. She smiled back, happy to see that sad, hurt look leave.

“No more secrets, okay?” she asked. 

“No more secrets,” he repeated. “So… more than friends?”

Y/n smiled wider than she thought was possible, pulling him back in for one more kick peck. 

“More than friends,” she repeated. 

[floshav]

want you so bad.

Peter Parker x fem! reader

summary: Peter likes Mj. You like Peter. Everyday is hell when they're both in each others vicinity and you're sitting right behind the madness. You're so close to professing your love for him but you keep it under wraps because it seems like an impossible feat.

Warnings: intense yearning, slight steamy scene, kissing, alluding to smut

He brings his hat down, pushing his fluffy bits of hair to flair out at the ends of his hat. You quirk your head to the side wondering who he was trying to hide from or who he saw. Yet it was no surprise to find that it was Mj.

She walked in with her curly, unruly hair which made her look so, so beautiful. The freckles which danced on her face making her glow and it made you jealous. Why did her natural beauty shine through more than your own? Why couldnt Peter see that in you. Why couldn't you see anything in yourself.

His eyes darted around the park outside your school and finally landed on you. You looked at him with a knowing expression.

"Don't need to play it cool Parker. The whole school can smell your crush from here." You smirk.

He scratches the back of his head and pretends like he doesn't know you till' he gives you a defeated look.

"Whatever you say y/n...." It only takes a few more moments before he breaks

He musters out a breathy whisper which you've heard a billion times before. "Is that really MJ?" Peter gravelly asked, hands at either side of his head, giving in to the fact that he was definitely head over heels for her.

You try to hold in a sigh, " Yes, Peter. It is MJ. For the hundredth time this week!" You yearn out, half joke half seriously.

Peters shoulder's tense up as a dorky smile carves his lips. "Is she looking our way? Or is her nerdy ass stuffed in a book." Peter asks with wide eyes. The eyes which you found so adorable, palpable yet so far from the personal touch of your own fingertips.

You slowly turned your head around to glimpse at the curly haired girl who was indeed lost in a book.

"Yea, shes reading her book." You say as you shoot Peter a tight smile and hate Mj for being the stereotypical mysterious girl. You Wondered if he could sense the hurt beneath you. Of course not. He was just a boy after all.

"I wonder how her long eyelashes feel against her eye bags as she slurs through the words. Or how the spine of the book feels as her soft fingers inch it to crack. Ugh, I just want to count every freckle on her beautiful face. Ya think she's ever thought of me before?" Peter began to ramble sweet nothings to himself as if you were giving him your utmost attention and not thinking about how stars practically lived in his eyes as he talked about her. How you wish he was talking about you.

You felt that familiar soul crushing, heart sinking feeling that you knew too well. The feeling that every boy you've ever liked has given you. The feeling of being so close yet so far away was the final blow.

He placed both his hands on either side of his face again and began to softly bite his lip as he giggled to himself stupidly.

"What're you thinking about Parker." You ask playfully trying to lighten the mood for yourself.

"Her lips... her eyes.... her hair." He smiled to himself so oblivious to the fact that every compliment he gave her was a dagger to your heart.

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

2 months

2 months pass and Peter has started talking to Michelle. Instead of walking past him, she smiles, she waves occasionally and has even said small hi's to him. The progress aches your yearning heart further into abyss but you ignore it anyway. Michelle has a new glow to her, she radiates beauty and the colour yellow ever since they started conversing. While you stay stagnant, radiating a plain old indistinguishable grey.

You're in Peters room, you two have just finished a major lego piece you've been putting off and the nights going great.

buzz

There goes your night you think to yourself.

Peter picks up his phone only to reveal his dorky smile again. Hes immediately stuck like glue and you hate it. You hate her. Even though you shouldnt, you couldnt care less.

You lay beside him as he smiles at his phone when in fact he should be smiling at you.

You snatch his phone and crush it, crush it to bits imagining it was Michelle jones, every bit of it Gone. gone to dust.

you snap out of your fantasy and return to see him stuck in her spiders web.

"Hey Peter" you coon

"Whats up?" He sets his phone aside and turns to face you.

Unknowingly you inch closer, and closer but the gap is barely noticeable.

Your eyes flicker down to his lips and you take in a breath. He notices the subtle gesture and his mind wanders.

"Have you ever wondered.." You trail off

"Wondered.....?" He repeated

"Wondered what it'd be like to.."

"to... kiss someone." You shyly whisper knowing you both haven't had your first kisses.

"I think it'd be amazing. Especially with someone you like. Imagine the feeling, the sparks flying. Just everything put into place." He says as he searches your eyes for a deeper meaning behind your facade.

"Yea... Someone you like." Your heart pounds solemnly at the thought that you'd never share your first kiss with your first love because he was tangled up in a love story of his own.

"Why'd you ask?"

"Just... felt like it."

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

a month passes since that conversation and you see Peters lips locked onto Mj's as they share soft kisses beside the vending machine. You should feel happy for him but he's all you've ever wanted and you've just lost him. You want to scream, shout, cry but you don't have it in you anymore. You just don't care.

Peter pulls away and Mj has a wide smile plastered on her face. Something you rarely ever see from her. Your mind wanders to what Peters lips would feel like. Soft.. Plush and warm. The wetness of lips on lips makes you aroused. The sounds he'd make if you did something a little more. He was seemed like the type you thought to yourself. The way his face would be so flushed after you'd litter him with affection and kisses. Him gaining more confidence as you went on. Mj watching on the side. You hadn't even realised a dampening form on your panties until you shifted around. You wanted him so so bad, but all you could do was watch from the side.

[tomholland1996simp]

I loved your “we gotta go” imagine when the reader pranked Tom. I was wondering if you could do the “starting an argument then flashing my boyfriend prank”. Thank you love your work xxx

Flashing || Tom Holland

Summary: You do the ‘Starting an argument, then flashing my boyfriend’ prank on your lovely and stressed boyfriend, Tom.

I haven’t proof read this, so sorry if there’s mistakes.

You and your boyfriend always had an on going prank war. Even before you started dating, you both pranked each other here and there, making sure t record one another’s reactions. You both started off as being roommates, just you and him. At first you just walked passed each other, not wanting to get to know one another, not even trying to make a small conversation, with a ‘hi’ or ‘how are you?’.

But one day you both just clicked. Then you wouldn’t ever leave each others sides. Where ever Tom was, you was. Well except for when he went off filming, sometimes you went with him, however other times you had to work as well. At first you and Tom were blind, you both denied your love for each other. Until one rainy day, when you missed his company, missed annoying him every morning, you told him.

And that’s what brings you here today. 2 years you have been dating, and you have known him for 5 years. Living with Tom has its perks, you were always with him when he was in Kingston and you always had his dog Tessa.

“Hey guys, I hope your all doing well. I don’t know why, but everyone has been asking for me to do videos of me starting an argument with Tommy then doing something random. A few weeks ago Tom had done a prank on me, however that back fired.” You chuckle, holding the camera in your right hand, looking through the lens. It’s true sometimes the pranks could go so wrong, but then they could go right.

Last time Tom pranked you and it back fired on him, it was really funny. “Today I’m going to be starting an argument with Tom and then flashing him. He’s currently on a meeting call, and today i’ve been acting moody. So he was like “why you being moody today?”

“I have to make sure that i’m not in the frame and that you can see his clear reaction to me flashing him. I don’t know what to argue about, i’ll have to think of something.” You pause the camera, walking into the kitchen to set it up on the counter. You hid it by a plant pot, hoping your super hot boyfriend won’t see it.

You threw some more dirty dishes into the sink, it being the only thing you could think of to make a stupid argument. The camera is rolling now, you place a finger on your lips, signing that Tom was coming.

“Tom are you gonna help me?—You said you do the dishes and you didn’t do them.” You call out, rattling the dishes as you hear his tired foot steps.

“Oh my goshhh! Im so stressed. Can I get a hug? I need love..” He tiredly smiles, Tom loved physical touch when he was stressed, you always calmed him.

Tom walked over to you, extending his arms out for you to fall into. You move away from him turning off the tap, his arms falling with a frown on his face. “No can you just do the dishes”

“Can I get no love?” He chuckles, thinking your messing around. You sigh, giving him a quick hug, patting his back like he was a friend. “There’s your hug, now do the dishes.”

Tom kissed your bare shoulder, “I’ve been in meetings all day, i’ve missed you” holding onto you still as you pull away.

“Okay now do the dishes” Now this makes Tom confused, his eyebrows raising up as he looks into the sink. “There’s three dishes, babe” He tells you placing a hand on your waist, all he wanted to do is get love from his beautiful girlfriend.

“Okay but why do I always have to do your dishes?!” You snap a little, trying to sound annoyed.

“I told you i’m stressed out, and this is how you’re gonna treat me?” He still spoke in a soft tone, gesturing to the dirty dishes in the sink. “I’ll do them”

“Okay then do them”

“I’ve been on a meeting since 7 a.m. How’s I supposed to do them?” Tom chuckles, running his hands through his loose curls. “Well you could’ve woke up earlier to do-“

“Earlier baby girl-“ He laughs, looking at you.

“I’m just frustrated, because last night you literally said don’t worry about them i’ll get them. You lied, you said you would do them” That part was true, you didn’t mind though.

“Most of these are from breakfast, and when would I have time to clean them” He quickly bends down to stroke Tessa’s head, finding her as a way to calm him down.

“No that one is from last night, when you literally had cereal.” You pointed at the bowl, fixing your straps of your tank top.

Tom puts his hands on your shoulders, helping you fix them. Ahh you were so lucky, it’s all the small things he does. “I’ll clean them, baby..” He gently shakes your body, hoping that you will at least be less moody if he jokes around to make you laugh.

“Okay! Don’t touch me” You pull his arms off, looking into his chocolate brown eyes.

“Are you serious?”

“No, i’m just irritated.”

Then he moves to where another dirty pan was left on the stove, picking it up. “Thank you for cooking for me. I said thanks like four times, I said i’ll clean the dishes.” Tom puts the pan into the sink turning on the tap, getting ready to clean the dishes even though he’s tired and stressed.

“Okay but why do I always have to ask you?” You try to raise your voice, continuing the argument even though you felt so bad for your sweet and loving boyfriend.

“I didn’t have any other time to do ‘em babe. I’ve been on meetings” He started to clean the pan, squirting the washing up liquid onto the sponge.

He’s still looking at you, “Well if you had time to eat then you had time to do the dishes, Tommy. And you could’ve done some of the ones last night, babe.”

Then he puts everything down, starting to grow even more stressed by how you was treating him over dishes. “I was eating on my meeting, y/n. Are you serious?” He said, pulling a face when you told him again that he could’ve ‘woken up earlier’.

“You’ve seen me on my like….What are you talking about? You literally know I had zero time to do anything” Tom still didn’t raise his voice, not wanting the argument to get worse. Now was the time that you decided that you had to flash him.

Walking away you say, “It’s just the fact that you don’t care, and you leave your stuff everywhere. I spent twenty minutes cleaning up everything” You made sure you was out of the cameras view.

“I left a bowl out last night, i’m sorry, baby. What else can I say, I didn’t mean to.” He sighed turning the tap back on, fully done with the argument you had started.

“You leave everything everywhere, you leave your keys on the counter, you leave your wallet-“

“Why are you acting physco about it? Like I’m sorry that I leave some things in certain places, maybe it’s because im stressed. Like I understand when your stressed, i’m always here for you, i’m never like this” Tom keeps his eyes on the dishes, focusing on cleaning the pan and placing it on the rack when he’s done, moving onto the next dish.

“But like, it not being clean stresses me out to” Your hands slowly go to the bottom of your tank top, him not noticing yet. The camera couldn’t see you either, all they could see was Tom and then him trying to spray you with a laugh.

“Will you smile? Come give me-“ Tom looks back up ready to finish his sentence, the camera seeing his facial expression change. You lifted your tank top all the way up, not having worn a bra so he could see your boobs bare.

Tom smiles cheekily, “What the fuck?” He laughs, dropping the spoon in his hand, it landing back into the sink. “What you doing?” He smirks a laugh, turning of the tap walking over to you as you pull your top back down.

“Nothing” You innocently say, moving back into the cameras view.

“Why you doing that? Baby!” He whines.

“Are you still mad at me?” You try hold in your laugh, a smile falling from your lips.

“I’m not mad at you, you’re mad at me. So that’s how your gonna fix an argument, your just gonna flash me?” He’s still laughing as he cups your cheeks, pressing both your foreheads together.

“You think boobs can fix everything, because they can” You wrap your arms around his neck as he picks you up a little, laughing.

“Yeah?” You smirk.

“Yes”

“Okay” You peck his lips, his hands going to your waist as he looks at your cleavage from your top.

“why you being mean?”

“I’m not being mean” You told him, pulling away.

“You are, i’m gonna do the dishes” He told you.

“So why ain’t you doing them now?”

Then he gave you a ‘are you serious right now?’ look, “Because you just flashed me your tits babe.” He gave your clothed boobs a squeeze, slapping your ass as you went to walk away saying ‘and, and what about it?’

“You want me to do the dishes-“ You flash him again. “Stop, how am I meant to do them when your doing that. Okay, what do you want. I’m confused” He took a step towards you thinking you wanted to do something.

“No, I want you to do the dishes” You laugh from behind the camera.

“Oh my goshhhhh” He drags the word out. “Babe, i’m stressed and I don’t have a lot of time. So it’s either I do the dishes or we do something better”

“I want you to do the dishes quickly, then we can do something better as soon as your done” You tease him, knowing he will grow frustrated after.

Tom grabbed your waist, pushing your body into his. You could already feel his hard on, he was really turned on by you just flashing him? “But there’s a bigger problem now, baby girl” Tom told you with a smirk, placing a sweet kiss to your lips.

“Well do the dishes” You push yourself into him, hearing him grunt as you walk back behind the camera, flashing him again.

“Y/n, that’s not fair. That’s like me showing you my dick, then saying no do the dishes. Baby, come on. First you was mean, now your killing me here” He picked up the dirty spoon again, you finally having enough of the prank. You felt too bad, you wanted to end this and show your boyfriend some love.

You grab his hands, dropping the spoon from it, and pulling him in for a sweet kiss. His hands go around your waist again, swaying you both side to side. “it’s a prank, love. I’m playing with you, I wanted to start an argument then flash you. The cameras there- I’m sorry. You don’t have to do them, i’ll wash them up later” You peck his lips, seeing him feel relieved that it was all a joke.

“So your really not mad at me?” He questioned.

“No, i’m not”

A smirk played on his lips as an idea popped into his head, “So does that mean I can see your tits again………,in the bedroom?”

[agentandreastark]

Kisses

Peter Parker X f!reader

Summary: After not seeing you for a day Peter comes to visit you.

Fluff, tiny bit of angst and slight smut

You were at your study table when you heard two knocks from your window.

"Who's there?" you asked not taking your eyes off the literature assignment in front of you.

"Spider" he replied back.

"You know I hate spiders" you smirked knowing exactly who was behind the glass.

"But this is the one you love" He said sliding your glass open and walked into your room.

You got up from your chair acting all surprised "OH my god! You're Spider-man" you joked the fangirling causing Pete to laugh.

"You didn't show up to school" He pulled off his mask showing you a frown.

"I was ill and in slump of homework" you shrugged.

"I've missed you, I hadn’t seen you the whole day" He took a step closer to you his eyes lingering at your lips. But it wasn't the normal love and care in his eye, it was accompanied by a look of hunger. You hummed at him going back to the study table.

"Wait" he grabbed your wrist. "C-can I?" He looked at your lips, you nodded slowly. He crashed his lips on to yours, it wasn't exactly soft, it was his first time being rough but you could tell that it was full of passion, he pulled you closer one hand on your waist and the other on my shoulders. He peppered your neck with kisses.

"Pete" you groaned, he kissed you again making you back up towards the wall.

"Are you okay?" Concern filled his eyes as your back hit the wall. He knew his super strength could hurt you so he was extra careful.

"Yeah better than ever" you said kissing him again. Your hand went up to his hair playing with his curls as he slid his hands under your stomach making you pull away.

"Pete get changed" you insisted.

"What-Why?" He questioned he was confused, there was no way you knew.

"Do it." you pushed leaving him with no choice he removed his suit to see a wound on his chest. you gave him a deadpan expression.

"Sorry" He mumbled.

"I don't want to fight about this, not again" you shook your head bringing the first aid kit. "Lay" you commanded him, he could tell you were disappointed, the monotone voice of yours was really just you trying to hide the fact that you were hurt.

"I'm sorry I didn't want you to worry, and it's not that bad is it?" Peter winced as you cleaned the wound, you stayed silent. "Baby?" You did not respond. You bandaged his wound and sat back at your table going back to studying while he muttered a small 'Thank you'. He tried to talk to you but you kept giving him the silent treatment.

When he finally had enough he picked you up causing you to squeal and tossed you on the bed climbing top of you, he tickled you as you laughed uncontrollably hard and loud.

"If you talk to me I'll stop" He smiled, it was behold a sight for his chocolatey eye. You were so adorable.

After a full minute you finally gave in "f-fine I-I'll talk to you" you said breathlessly, Peter leaned in kissing you and he tilted his head deepening the kiss.

"You're lucky I love you" you mumbled into his lips.

"I know I am"

[believeinstarker]

impressional 18 year old x 40 year old mentor? how could they not fuck?

[donald4spiderman]

I dont know if you're still taking requests if so could you write a fratboytasm!peter getting jealous because another boy at a party is trying to flirt with you, so he comes over and starts kissing you or something and then throws u over his shoulder taking u to the closest room.

NOT WITHOUT JEALOUSLY

frat!tasm!peter x gn!reader

tw: jealously, making out, suggestiveness

a/n: I took this as a jealous!peter where the two of you are sort of dating but it’s not official or exclusive. hope you enjoy!

masterlist

PETER SWEARS HE’S NOT LIKE THIS, he’s not that type of guy. Technically, the two of you aren’t even dating, let alone exclusive. The burning discomfort and jealously surging through his veins isn’t supposed to be here. He’s not suppose to feel this way.

He physically recoils into himself when the flirty guy across from you reaches out to brush a stray piece of hair out of your face. Peter thinks he sees you flinch, teeth bared in a forced smile. Maybe it’s his wishful thinking.

He must look strange—staring wide-eyed at you from the middle of the crowded room. People seems too drunk to notice, the party continues to flow around him. The guy leans in closer, muttering something that makes you chuckle quirky. Peter debates the ethicality of using his status as president of the fraternity to kick him out of their party.

The two of you are talking for a really long time. So long that Peter has sobered up slightly, which somehow is only making the jealously more and more powerful within him. He hates the you actually seem to be enjoying yourself.

You’ve mentioned how quickly you were to shut down guys who seemed too arrogant or reliant on their masculinity. The guy standing in front of you is handsome and built, looks like a football player, which is not your usual type. There must be something about his personality, then. Something about him that makes him better than Peter.

Time passes, and the party is still going strong. You’re still talking to that guy. Peter notices and open window when he leaves with his solo cup to grab another drink. You’re alone for a moment and he seizes the opportunity.

“Hey, (Y/N).” The gravel in his voice makes you shiver.

“Oh, hi, Pete.” You chirp, genuinely delighted to see him for the first time the entire night. “This party is...kind of tolerable.”

He smiles, “Well, I knew you were coming, so I wanted it to be a little less overwhelming for you. I know how you hate crazy parties.”

“You did that for me, Pete?” Is it wrong that a simple nickname to makes him horny? “You didn’t have to.”

“Of course I did.”

Peter feels like he’s getting his grove back. You’re looking up at him with loving eyes, and he forgets about that other dude for just a moment.

“Did you meet Carter?”

“Huh? Who?”

“The guy I was talking to all night since ao couldn’t find you.” Shit, really. “By the way, where were you?”

“Carter...n-no-didn’t meet ‘em.” He chews his lips in frustration, shaking his head.

“That’s too bad, you would like him.”

“Would I?” It’s quiet a murmur more for himself, but you hear it.

“What was that?” You question, poking at his chest. “Something’s upsetting you?” You sound a little annoyed, but he tries to ignore it.

“No. I-It’s fine. It’s just-well,” he stammers with his head hung low in shake, “I-I don’t like the way he was f-flirting...with you.”

Your face scrunches up sarcastically, “Oh, so this was an ego thing? Don’t want the other kids peeing your sandbox?” You cringe immediately, and so does Peter. “Okay, bad analogy, but the point still stands.”

“What? I c-can’t be jealous?”

“No!” You exclaim as if it’s a kindergarten knowledge.

“I can’t help it, okay. I like you,” Here he goes, “A lot. And you know it. A-and I don’t like other guys flirting with you, ‘cause that should be my job.”

“Aw, Pete.” You coo. “You’re sort of cute when you’re jealous.”

“Stop it! I’m serious! I don’t like way he was talking to you.”

He sneaks a quick glance to his left to find that what’s his name? Carter! Is returning with his drink. Peter has a plan, and he hopes you’ll forgive him.

“Forgive me?”

“For what?”

As soon as Carter is within two feet, Peter’s slamming his lips onto yours. Shocked, you stumble a few steps back, but reciprocate, nonetheless. Your arms snake around his waist to pull him in tighter, and you’ve long forgotten about the man who occupied your night before this.

You break apart from the kiss, gasping, only to be tossed onto Peter’s shoulder.

“Peter!” You cry out. “Let me down. I swear to god, I will fuck you up, Peter!”

He chuckles, mostly to antagonize poor Carter (who hasn’t really done anything wrong).

“Sorry, man.” He offers a half-assed apology before leading you up the stairs and into his room.

SEND IN REQUESTS!

[acciopietro]

i’m sorry this is kinda lengthy but basically peter is a huge simp for reader but he’s scared to put her in danger bc he’s spider-man but some villains find out he likes reader anyway so they attack her but he’s nearby and rushed to help her only to see that her take them out and finds out that’s she’s an underground hero so he confronts her later and it’s super fluffy and cute

silk - p.p.

pairing: th! peter parker x fem! reader

summary: in which peter’s school crush is not what she seems.

word count: 5,030

tw: mentions of abusive relationships and violence.

a/n: i hope you don’t mind i changed up the plot just a little bit!! same idea basically but just slightly different. im in a bit of a writing slump so i hope you dont mind i used ur request to try and get my creative thinking back up and running LOL. i never know what to do when making reader a superhero so i just made Y/N like silk from the comics. if you don’t know who she is, google her! she’s awesome! thanks for the request <3 BTW this is not edited bc im lazy

PETER LIKED TO THINK HE WAS SMART ENOUGH TO KNOW WHEN TO GIVE UP. He was an Avenger, for gods sake; if he could fight someone like Thanos, then he could accurately gage when it was time to take a step back and admit that not all battles could be won. Even if he was willing to fight until his last breath.

He had liked Y/N for a while. Longer than he’d ever admit to anyone else, even Aunt May or Ned. Since before he became Spider-Man, she had caught his eye, but Peter had always been a bit too nervous to approach her. He had gotten lucky when his schedule lined up with hers for his Junior year, having five out of his seven classes with her. The only issue, however, was her boyfriend.

Her boyfriend was no match for Peter. Peter might be Spider-Man undercover, but in the daylight of his high school career, he was... kind of a loser. Y/N’s boyfriend, James, was six-foot-three and Captain of the wrestling team, with broad shoulders and a strong jaw. Peter, on the other hand, was a measly five-foot-nine and often compared himself to looking like a toddler. Aunt May said otherwise, but that didn’t change anything.

“Hey, Pete,” she smiled at him, the apples of her cheeks round as she slid into the seat in front of him. She was the only one who called her ‘Pete,’ with the exception of Aunt May. Having so many shared classes had brought forth the closest thing he could get to being hers: an in-school friendship.

“Hi,” he pursed his lips into a smile, lifting a hand up in a meek wave. Fiddling with his pencil where it hovered above his graph paper, he eyed her and said, “I, uh— I like your shoes.”

“Oh, really?” she glanced down at the black-and-white skate shoes. “I was iffy about wearing them, ‘cause they kind of make me feet look like squares, don’tcha think?”

Peter peered back down at the shoes and cracked a small grin. “Maybe a little bit. But it’s not bad, I think they’re cool.”

“Thanks!” Y/N leaned down to unzip her backpack, taking out the notebook of graph paper with a series of messy scribbles along the margins. She flipped it open, turned in her chair to face him. “Okay, so I’m assuming you did the homework? I seriously have no idea how to do this, and I figured you did.”

“Oh, yeah — yeah, I — I did the homework,” Peter nodded fervently, leaning forward over his desk so he could see her notebook. She placed it on the top of his desk, fully facing him, and pointed to the second problem on the sheet.

“So I used SOH-CAH-TOA to find this angle, but then I guess I messed it up somewhere along here....” she continued talking, explaining the process of her attempt at solving the calculus problem. Peter listened intently to her words, all while staring at the different flecks of color in her e/c eyes and losing himself the way she bit the inside of her cheek in between sentences. “Peter?”

“Yeah?” he snapped out of it. She was smiling at him and oh, shit, he hadn’t heard the second half of what she was saying.

“So do you think you could help?” she asked. Her eyes shifted over towards the clock on the front wall. “‘Cause we got like three minutes until the period officially starts and I seriously need a good grade.”

“Yeah, of course,” Peter gulped and grabbed his calculator, focusing his eyes on the graph paper and began copying down the equation from his own notebook. It was dreadfully difficult to keep his focus with her leaning so close to him, her perfume flooding into his brain and fogging up his mind. He scribbled down the solution as fast as you can.

“Oh, duh!” she slumped her shoulders. “I guess I multiplied wrong. I always screw up simple math.”

“No, you did it right the first time,” Peter gently smiled at her, careful not to keep eye contact for too long. “Just a little mess up in the middle. But all the other math was, uhm... spot on.”

“Thanks, Pete,” she nodded, tapping her fingers on the spiral spine of her notebook. “I’m really glad that — oh shit!”

She jolted in her spot, a pair of hands coming down to squeeze her shoulders. She turned around and sighed; Peter followed the hands and was disappointed to see James, her boyfriend, standing beside her desk.

“You scared the shit out of me!” she said breathily, one hand flying to rest over her heart. “Jesus!”

“Sorry, babe,” James chuckled, slipping into his spot— which just so happened to be right beside her, diagonal from Peter. “What’s good, Penis Parker?”

Peter felt his ears turn red, and he clenched his jaw, avoiding the other boys eyes and shifting awkwardly in his seat. Y/N abruptly whacked her boyfriend on the arm, suddenly frowning.

“Don’t be a dick,” she said pointedly. James laughed.

“It’s just a joke,” he lifted his hands in defense. “Parker doesn’t care, does he? Do you?”

Peter glanced up, eyes darting between James and Y/N. He only shrugged.

“It doesn’t matter,” Y/N said, scooting her chair under her desk as soon as she saw the teacher enter the classroom. “It’s still rude and immature and his name is Peter.”

“Okay, chill out,” James muttered. “Hey, you did the homework, right?”

Peter watched Y/N send her boyfriend a very tired expression, her shoulders slouching. “Seriously?"

“What? C’mon, I had practice ‘till late last night,” James frowned. “And you know how much I struggle with Calc.”

Y/N gave another sigh before reluctantly handing him her notebook. Peter watched the exchange with a slight frown, biting his tongue to refrain from saying something about cheating and morality or something equally as stupid. He wasn’t going to tattle. He didn’t want to do that to her, not that he gave a flying fuck about what happened to James.

James wordlessly threw the notebook back to her after a few minutes; she caught it swiftly and spared him another longing sort of glance before bowing her head and facing the front of the room. Peter clenched his jaw and sent a glare towards the back of James’ head; he knew he was a dick, and she knew he was a dick. So why the hell was she dating him?

There was no way in hell that James had some kind of brilliant quality about him that made this kind of treatment worth it. It’s not like he was remarkably thoughtful, or funny, or attractive. He was pleasant looking, sure, but Peter was sure there wasn’t a single redeeming quality about him.

As though he had heard his thoughts, James suddenly turned his head around and was met with Peter’s lingering glare. He narrowed his eyes at him, glanced at Y/N, and then looked back at Peter. Peter fought the urge to bow his head and shy away; he was Spider-Man for fuck’s sake! He could handle some stupid high school asshole, couldn’t he?

Peter frowned the entire walk from class to his locker, where he tiredly turned his lock and swung open the metal door as though the interaction in Calculus had taken a serious toll on him.

“Peter!” came a cheery voice from his right. Leaning back to look over his locker, he saw Ned, grinning. “You look so unhappy to see me. Is there a reason for this, or are you just, like, being moody today?”

“Being moody today,” Peter mumbled. “’Cause of stupid James Lewis.”

“Ah,” Ned said wisely, leaning against the other lockers as Peter slipped out his textbook and closed the metal door. “Yeah, that can really wreck a guys mood.”

“Yeah,” Peter breathed, watching as Y/N approached her locker on the other end of the hall. James followed at her heels, laughing obnoxiously with another boy on the wrestling team and ignoring his girlfriend entirely. Y/N took out her books, clutching them to her chest, and turned to speak to James; Peter watched as she fiddled nervously with her necklace as she waited for her boyfriend to look at her. “Why’s she dating him, man? He’s so awful.”

“I dunno, dude,” Ned shrugged. “Women are the world’s greatest mystery.”

“So are men,” Peter muttered, sending James a final glare before he and Ned turned the other way.

---

EARLY THAT EVENING, just before he left for patrol, Peter’s phone rang. Which was fairly normal, considering Ned called him a million times a day and Aunt May often send him the occasional call on her way home from work. This time, however, startled him, because the name on the call was not Ned, nor was is May. It said Y/N.

“H-Hey, Y/N, hi!” Peter stammered out after pressing the green answer button, steadying his grip on his phone after it had almost slipped from his grasp. “Hello!”

“Hi, Pete,” her voice said, sounding sweet. “Sorry to call you at such a weird time. I—er— had a question about the homework?”

“Oh, yeah!” Peter held the phone to his ear with his shoulder and shot his hand out across his room; a web flung from his wrist and stuck itself onto his Calculus notebook. It soared towards him, and he frantically flipped to the most recent page. “Which one?”

“Uhm, number three.”

Peter scanned the page through the latex of his mask.

“I don’t think we had to do number three tonight,” he answered with an awkwardly laugh. Through the phone, she gave a noise of disapproval.

“Ugh, of course!” she said exasperatedly. “I always copy down the wrong numbers from the board. Thanks for telling me. Sorry to bother you!”

“No, no, you’re not — you’re not a bother!” Peter insisted in a shrill voice, grabbing his mask from the top of his head and tugging it off of his face. “Never a bother!”

With a laugh, she said, “I totally procrastinated my homework... I was totally binge watching all the Spider-Man videos on YouTube. Have you see them?”

Peter coughed rather loudly. “Erm, yeah, a few. Don’t really pay attention to, uh... to Spider-Man...”

“They’re totally awesome,” she gushed, and Peter felt heat flood up into his cheeks. “How do you not pay attention to Spider-Man? I feel like that’s right up your alley.”

“I dunno,” Peter shrugged absentmindedly. “We’ve got tons of Avengers, y’know? Guess I’m just... erm... kinda desensitized to it.”

"I’m kind of a dork about the Avengers, actually,” she said timidly. “I don’t care how many times I see Captain America on the news— I am totally mesmerized each and every time. Same with Spider-Man. I think they’re so cool.”

“...mesmerized?” Peter perked his head up. “Uhm... how so?”

“Thought you didn’t care about Spider-Man?”

Peter pressed his lips together. “I don’t.”

You dismissively waved your hand and said, “Then, I’ll stop. I don’t mean to be geeking out.”

“No, it’s okay!” Peter said hastily. “Really, I don’t mind. I think it’s cool that you think the Avengers are cool. They are cool.”

“But not Spider-Man?”

“I — well — no, Spider-Man is cool, I never said he wasn’t cool,” Peter went on. “But, I’m just saying, like... I dunno. The other Avengers are better. Like... like Iron Man, he’s awesome. Black Widow, she’s... the best.”

“Hm,” she paused. “I think I’ll be her for Halloween. You totally just sparked my imagination, thanks!”

“No problem,” he replied, willing himself not to think about what she might look like in the tight, leather suit that Black Widow wore. There was a beat of silence, and Peter was sure he had started sweating.

“Okay, well... I ought to finish the homework that we actually have to do,” she joked, a smile heard within her words. Peter felt himself grin. “I’ll see you tomorrow in class, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah— see you!” he said, and with a Click! she was gone. Turning off his phone, he tossed it onto his bed and groaned, putting his head in his hands and frowning. He was way too enthusiastic to say See you!. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed his phone again and slipped it into his pocket before grabbing his mask and slipping it over his face; it was time to patrol, not to daydream. Cracking open his window, he was gone.

---

SOMETHING WAS WRONG. Peter felt it as soon as he went on patrol for the night. The streets of the city were empty, the night breeze whisking up the dust of the pavement and paving a path for no one. It was unlike Queens to be so quiet at this time of night; even at a quarter past midnight, the city was usually lively, however this night was different.

Mindlessly winging along the sides of the cities skyscrapers, Peter wondered what could be the cause of this weird occurrence. It wasn’t like someone kidnapped and hid away the entire population of Queens... nor was their some kind of alien abduction (he would’ve seen it). Maybe it was a holiday he wasn’t aware of and every happened to go on vacation at the same time. Or maybe—

“Woah!” said a voice, and before his eyes focused back into the world around him, he slammed face first into another figure. He shot a hand up as he flipped upside down, a web sticking onto one of the nearby billboards above, and watched as the mysterious figure slid down the wall before coming to a pause. He blinked. How were they sticking to the wall?

Lowering himself down, he stared at the figure. He might have been watching them from an upside-down point of view, but he could see clearly the web design on their suit. 

“Hi,” he said, tilting his head to the side as though to watch them more clearly. They lifted their head, pushing h/c out of their eyes; they had a red mask over their nose and mouth, e/c eyes blinking up at him. 

The torso of their suit was silver, with a red-and-black web pattern across their chest, however the arms and legs were black with the exception of her fingers, which were painted a bright red. Woah.

“Uhm,” Peter said again. “How’s it hangin’?”

“It’s all right,” the figure said; the voice was feminine, familiar. He felt his stomach jump for a second, as though he knew who it was, but it went away after a moment. “With the exception of you slamming into me.”

“Sorry about that,” Peter lowered himself more and crawled up the single web so he could be right-side up, at her eye-level. “Wasn’t paying attention. Hey, who are you?”

“None of your bees-wax,” she sassed, lifting a hand up. “I gotta go.”

“Woah, woah!” Peter shot out a web to intercept hers, swinging up to follow her. “Hey, c’mon! You know who I am, right?”

“Obviously,” she said, her back to him as she swung away. “Doesn’t mean I owe you anything.”

Peter frowned under his mask. “Well, how’re you also SpiderMan? Or... Spider-Woman? Sorry.”

“It’s Silk, actually,” she said exasperatedly. “And I’m what you call also SpiderMan because some nasty insect decided to bite me two days ago.”

“Yesterday?” Peter mused, still following her. “How’re you swinging so well, then?”

“Practice,” she shrugged and came to a stop on a nearby rooftop. “Are you gonna follow me all the way home, or what?”

“Oh, sorry,” Peter launched himself towards her, landing on the same roof. “I’m just... curious. Hey, were you the reason why everyone was gone?”

“Yup. Huge robbery at the edge of the city. Everyone sort of flocked outside when I got ‘em out of the place,” she said, crossing her arms over his chest. Peter stared, eyes trailing over the fine details of her suit. She furrowed her brows. “Hey! Look me in the eyes when I’m talking to you, you creep!”

“Sorry! Sorry!” Peter flinched. “I wasn’t— I wasn’t staring at your— I was looking at your suit! It’s really cool.”

“Thanks,” she avoided his eyes and rubbed the side of her head. Peter then noticed she had a bruise forming on her upper cheekbone. “I need to go home, okay?”

“Okay, yeah,” Peter nodded feverishly. “Didn’t mean to keep you.”

“All good, SpiderMan,” she gave him a salute and said, “See you ‘round.”

---

WORD OF SILK had spread faster than Peter anticipated. The next day at school, her name permeated about the hallways, whispers of her trickling around Peter wherever he went. She was the first thing Ned spoke of when Peter saw him that morning, and he was floored to find out Peter had actually met her.

Y/N was not in the calculus classroom when Peter walked in. She usually was there before him, however the seat in front of him remained empty. James, her boyfriend, came in earlier than usual, looking especially cranky. Peter gave him his own glare (which wasn’t very menacing, but he liked to pretend it was) before averting his eyes to his graph paper. 

“The hell are you looking at, Parker?” James barked. Peter shifted his eyes up.

“Nothing,” Peter said.

James scoffed and slumped into his seat, running a hand through his hair before sending a nod of a greeting to the girl who sat on the other side of him. Peter frowned at this, watching as the random girl blushed and sent a wave back. 

Right before the bell rang, as the last kids settled into their seats, Y/N speed-walked in, frantically apologizing to the teacher as she hustled into her seat. Peter sat up straighter, staring to try and meet her eyes, but she slid into her seat without looking up at anyone. 

The teacher, Mr. Bruno, began to teach, and Peter watched as James leaned over to nudge Y/N with the eraser of his pencil. She snapped her head over; her eyes were bloodshot, her cheeks flushed red, and her fist was clenched around her pencil.

“Woah,” James whispered. “What happened to you?”

She deeply inhaled through her nose, closing her eyes for a moment. “What do you want?”

“Don’t take that tone with me,” James furrowed his brow. “You did the homework, right?”

“Yes, but I can’t give it to you now,” she whispered. “Mr. Bruno’s teaching, and I’d get in trouble—”

“Oh, come on, Y/N, just slide it over,” James said dismissively. “Won’t hurt you. It’s really not that big of a deal—”

“She said no,” Peter blurted. James whipped his head around, as did Y/N. She blinked at him, e/c eyes shining, and she gave him a pursed-lip smile that said thanks, but you shouldn’t have done that.

“The hell did you just say?” James hissed. “Huh, Penis Parker? You got somethin’ to say?”

“Yeah,” Peter gulped. “She said no. Leave her alone.”

“She’s my girlfriend,” James barked. “This is our business, all right?”

Y/N said nothing, avoiding both of their eyes; she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, and Peter saw her chest begin to ride and fall rather quickly. It was then he noticed, as he stared at her, that there was a large bruise on the side of her cheek. Oh god, Peter thought. He’s hitting her.

“You shouldn’t speak to your girlfriend that way,” Peter muttered, turning back to face the whiteboard, copying down the notes that Mr. Bruno had written. “It’s disrespectful.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m going to take your relationship advice, Parker,” James scoffed, shaking his head. “No girl could ever date you, man.”

“Quit being a dick, James!” Y/N said rather loudly, to which Mr. Bruno finally turned around and set his eyes on her. The classroom fell silent.

“Ms. L/N, please don’t use that kind of language in my classroom,” he said gently, to which Y/N melted into her chair and nodded her head.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, casting her eyes down. She didn’t speak for the rest of the class, ignoring glares she received from James. She didn’t even turn around when they were told to work independently. Peter prayed she wouldn’t pay for his actions.

“Hey,” he said to her as soon as the bell rang, reaching over to touch her shoulder. She jumped back, eyes wide, before her shoulders deflating at the sight of him.

“Oh, sorry, Pete,” she said, her voice tired. Her eyes were still bloodshot and glistening, and he stared at her gently with concern. “Scared me.”

“Wait here for a sec,” he told her, watching as James threw his bag over his shoulder. She gave him a look. “Please?”

“Y/N, c’mon,” James beckoned her. Y/N spared Peter a look before she turned and said.

“I’ll catch up,” she said carefully. “I gotta talk to Pete.”

James glanced in between them cynically, before his malicious glare settled on Peter. He clenched his jaw and said, “Fine,” before stomping out of the classroom.

“Are you okay?” Peter asked Y/N once James was out of earshot.

“I’m just tired, I promise,” she assured him. “I didn’t sleep well.”

“You’re all flushed. And your face is bruised...” Peter lifted a hand up absentmindedly as though to graze the bruise with his knuckle, but he snapped his hand back down to his side when he realized what he was doing. Glancing back at the door, where James had disappeared, Peter said, “Look, if somethings wrong... if you’re not safe...”

Y/N furrowed her brows. “Safe? I’m plenty safe, I promise. What is this about?”

“James,” Peter said. “I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions, but... he kind of treats you like shit, Y/N.”

“I — he’s just...” she gulped. “He gets angry. I know it’s not good, but...”

She clenched her jaw and glanced feverishly behind Peter. 

“It’s not like I can just dump him and have everything be all rainbows and sunshine, okay?” her shoulders tensed. “He’s my first boyfriend, I... I can’t just dump him.”

Peter frowned and glanced down at her bruised cheek. “But he’s...”

Y/N lifted a hand to touch her bruise, and with a faint smile she said, “I know what you’re thinking. He didn’t hit me, Pete.”

“You don’t have to lie,” Peter pressed further. Y/N furrowed her brows. “You can tell me. I can help you—”

“It’s not from him, Peter!” she insisted and threw her backpack over her shoulder, however it accidentally whacked her water bottle than had been sitting on the corner of the desk. 

Peter, the hairs on his arms raising, lunged forward to grab it, however his fingers bumped right into hers. Lifting his eyes up, he saw that she had caught the bottle before he had. How...? he couldn’t finish the thought. She pursed her lips and turned to tuck the water bottle into the side pocket of her bag. 

“Don’t worry about me, Peter,” she said hastily without looking at him, her hand not leaving the water bottle on the side of her backpack. 

She shook her wrist around as though to try and take her fingers off the bottle, however her hand stayed put. Peter watched intently. Y/N finally settled on taking the bottle out and holding it in front of her. 

“I’m fine,” she told him firmly. “Erm — see you.”

And she circling around him without another word, starting towards the door. Peter hastily turned to grab his own bag in an attempt to rush after her.

“Wait, you left your—!” Peter picked up her pencil and turned around, but she was already gone. Sighing, he moved to put the pencil down, but something caught him off guard; a strand of a spider web wrapped around the eraser like a cocoon. His head snapped up.

No fucking way. 

---

DESPITE HAVING A good amount of classes with her, Y/N seemed to keep slipping out of his grasp again and again throughout the day. She ignored the notes he kept asking Ned to give her in History, pretending like she didn’t see him staring at her in English, speed-walking away from him in the cafeteria. Peter was sure he’d have to web her to keep her in one place just so he could talk to her.

By the sound of the final bell, Peter raced out of his last class (Physics) and practically sprinted to his locker before pushing his way down the stairwell in an attempt to reach the main entrance to the school to find Y/N. She parked her car on the side of the building, and although Peter walked the other way to catch his bus home, he decided to walk to her car. But when he reached her car, and she wasn’t there, he realized how creepy he probably seemed.

“Pete?” he heard his name, and he grimaced before turning around. Y/N was standing on the sidewalk, books hugged to her chest.

“Hey,” he dragged out, tensing his shoulders. “Uhm. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she sighed, walking around the other side of the car to drop her backpack and books onto the passenger seat. “What... erm... what’re you doing at my car?”

“Well, that’s... it’s...” Peter pursed his lips. Digging into his pocket, he took out her web-wrapped pencil. Her brows twitched. “I found this.”

“Thanks,” she reached out and grabbed it from him. “I was looking for it.”

“No, that’s... look at the end of it,” Peter said. At this, she furrowed her brows in confusion and glanced down at the eraser, covered in silk. She clenched her jaw and said nothing. “I... you can tell me, y’know.”

“Tell you what?” she said, putting her pencil back in her pocket. Peter opened his mouth wordlessly. “What’s up with you and your accusations today?”

“Okay, in my defense, it’s kind of hard to not thing you’ve got an abusive boyfriend when he treats you — and everyone else, might I add! — like shit all the time, every day.”

“I — he doesn’t —”

“So when you come into class looking like you’re about to cry, and with a bad bruise on the side of your cheek, excuse me for being just a little bit concerned!” Peter blurted. Y/N stared at him wordlessly. “And now there’s spider-web wrapped around your pencil. And the whole school is talking about this mysterious spider-woman—”

“She’s not a Spider-Woman,” Y/N muttered, brushing past Peter and opening the door to the driver’s seat. “Her names’ Silk.”

“Proving my point!” Peter threw his arms up. “I know it’s you! Silk said the same thing!”

At this, Y/N squinted and peered at him oddly. “What do you mean Silk said the same thing? Have you met her?”

Peter opened and closed his mouth like a fish for a moment. “I — that’s — no! Of course I haven’t! When — when would I have —?”

“Ah, okay,” Y/N suddenly smirked. “Why don’t you tell me what your deal is, then? I know it’s you!”

Peter clenched his jaw. “What... don’t turn this on me! This is about you!”

“You just made it about you,” Y/N stepped forward to him, and lowering her voice to a whisper, she said, “Spider-Man.”

Peter flushed and jumped back. “No! No, that’s — I don’t know where you’re getting that from! Look at me, I can’t be — I could never be — look at me! I don’t even—”

Y/N suddenly threw her phone out towards the ground at Peter’s feet. Cutting off his ramble, he struck his hand out nonchalantly and catch the phone. Handing it back to her, he continued, “Careful with that. But, anyways, it’s not me!”

“You just caught that in less than a second,” Y/N deadpanned. “If you’re honest with me, I’ll be honest with you.”

Peter stared at her for a moment, unsure. Rocking back and forth on his feet, he squinted and said, “You first.”

Sighing, she rolled her eyes and said, “Okay. You’re right.”

“Ha!” Peter pumped a fist in the air. “Knew it!”

“Now you.”

He frowned and took a deep breath. “You... I... you can’t tell anyone.”

She suddenly beamed. “Y’know, I thought there was something suspiciously charming about Spider-Man.”

Red-faced, Peter said, “Charming?”

“Yeah,” Y/N shrugged sheepishly, her face tinged pink. “Look, I... James is...” she sighed. “I broke up with him. Right after last period.”

Peter’s face lit up.

“But... it’s not all sunshine and roses now,” she muttered. “He made a big stink about it and now he won’t stop calling me, and... he just... he scares me a bit.”

He frowned and took a step closer to her, leaning against the side of the car to face her. “I won’t let him hurt you.”

“Thanks," she said half-heartedly.

“I’m serious,” Peter said, bowing his head slightly and staring down at her. “He might be a wrestler or whatever he is, but I’m literally a superhero.”

She snickered.

“What?”

“Nothing, it just sounds funny,” she giggled and glanced away, her cheeks still pink. “I appreciate it, Pete. Really.”

She was closer to him than he had anticipated, her sweet-smelling perfume flooding his sensing and ensnaring him in his place. He swallowed, his hands twitching at his sides as he felt an invisible force push him closer, faces leaning in.  

“Hey!” came a voice from their side. An old woman, standing by the door of her house nearby Y/N’s car was parked. “You can’t stay parked there all afternoon, y’hear!”

“Sorry, ma’am!” Y/N called back, giggling. Peter laughed as well, ducking his head and running a hand through his hair bashfully. “Looks like we should move.”

“Yeah,” was all Peter could find it in him to say. She grinned and glanced to her side again. Peter followed her eyes, noticing that she was watching the old woman walk back into her house. “What should —!”

Y/N had shot her hand out, a web flying from her wrist and sticking to his side to pull him in and press her lips to his. It was hasty, the kiss, and just as she pulled away, she beamed and slid into the driver’s seat.

“You want a ride, or what?”

---

a/n: okay i kind of love this a lot. its cute. 

taglist: @childishnewt @niallhoransupremacy @criesinlies @fairydxll @mcximffs @minbeatriz16 @slvtforfictionalcharacters @kaqua @thorrealgf @pagesbetweensheets @xlucyintheskywithdiamondsx @eichenhouseproperty @julster

[marsrogers]

love me again (funeral blues pt. 2) | tom holland’s peter parker x stark! reader (18+)

warnings: mentions of death, underage drinking/drug use, angst, harry osborn being an asshole, oral (f-receiving), handjobs, fingering, sex (piv), female orgasm, male orgasm, swearing 

synopsis: Unable to come to terms with Peter’s rejection, you attend a party at Harry’s to take your mind off of things. Things only get worst...until they get better. 

word count: 10.8k 

note: this is a second part to this imagine! it makes sense to read this after reading the first part. 

A/N: Apologies for the incredibly delayed update; life has inhibited me from writing as frequently as I wish I could. As for the important details of the imagine, I thought it would be fun to pair Gwen and MJ together, as it’s something I’ve never seen done before but seems fitting. Additionally, I have no face claims in mind for Gwen nor the other characters I made up, such as Grace and the other Midtown High girls. That being said: enjoy!  

It’s been two weeks since your father’s funeral, and all you’ve done since the memorial is alternate between sleeping on your left and right sides, catch up on episodes of Criminal Minds, eat, and shower. To say that getting out of bed was a chore would be an understatement, and the lax attitude that your school had about your return wasn’t helping to pull you out of your funk. Then again, you suppose that your school was in no position to rush you back, seeing as to how your father had resurrected the missing half of the population. Plus, you’re sure that your dad’s generous donation a few years back that doubled the size of Midtown has something to do with their laissez-faire attitude. 

It’s currently 9:30 am on a Saturday, and you’re not even sure why you’re up this early. This is undoubtedly the earliest you’ve risen from your slumber in weeks, and you can’t deny that it feels good to have somewhat of a regimented schedule. You’re even contemplating exiting your room to have breakfast with your stepmother and sister. Key word is almost. You try to push away the desire to emerge from solitary confinement, but it’s persistent. Something is encouraging you to escape from the limits of your room. So, a little less than an hour after waking, you find yourself downstairs, slumped over your kitchen island with a bowl of cereal in your hands.

Pepper screeches when she comes down the stairs and sees you sitting in the kitchen. 

“Morning,” you mumble through a mouthful of cereal. 

She screeches and jumps in place, her right palm flying to clutch her heart. “Jesus, Y/N—you scared me. I didn’t expect you to be up this early. Frankly, I didn’t expect you to come out of your room today at all.” The last part she mutters, but your acute sense of hearing allows you to take in her words. 

You shrug in between, placing a mouthful of cereal into your mouth. “Couldn’t stay in there forever.” 

She gives you a nod of affirmation, a sudden smile beginning to find its way to her face. She makes her way over to you, a freshly brewed cup of coffee in her possession. Coming to stand beside you, her hand gently finds its way into your hair and strokes it softly. From your peripheral, you catch the way her engagement ring sparkles in the light of the kitchen window. You suddenly feel sick.

“How’re you doing today?” She questions soothingly. 

“I mean, I waited, like, fifteen minutes after waking up before I started crying, so progress, I guess?” You joke. Pepper frowns, continuing to card her fingers through your hair. 

Your words trigger an instant change in her demeanor. She swallows thickly. “I just want you to be okay, Y/N.”

“I will be.” Your answer surprises you. You offer it without thinking about whether or not you actually mean it. You’re not really sure if you do. 

She offers another sad smile. “I know, I know.” Her response brings about an awkward silence among you two. 

You wait a few seconds before you stand up and decide to break the quietness. “Okay, I’m going to go back to my room.” 

“No, no, please don’t leave,” she implores. You can see the sadness and loneliness in her eyes, which makes you swallow nervously. “This is the first time you’ve been out of your room fully in days. I don’t want the cycle to continue repeating itself. Why don’t you invite Gwen over?” 

The Gwen in question was your best friend in the entire world, Gwen Stacy, and while you’d normally be inclined to spend any available time you had with her, the prospect of her inducing a trauma dumping session scared you. But Gwen kept you grounded and forced you to be pragmatic during the times when you wanted to be the most impulsive. She’d been there for you through breakups, traumatic missions, and death. And you’d been there for her through her similar calamities: shitty partners, overbearing parents, and identity crises. You knew that asking her to come over to spend the day with you would be enjoyable, but you just didn’t know if you were up to it yet. 

You swirl the remnants of milk and tiny pieces of cereal around in your ceramic bowl, trying to decide whether or not you should oblige Pepper. She stares at you expectantly, hoping to coax a favorable answer out of you. 

“Okay,” you ultimately surrender. “Fine.” 

Pepper’s hand finds its way to the small of your back, and she beams at you. “It’s not for me, it’s for you. It’ll be good.” 

So, you punch Gwen’s name into your smartphone and type out a message to her, practically begging her to come over. Instead of retreating to your room, you opt to spend time with Morgan for the first time in days. She’d forced you to watch Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir with her, and while you’d initially been slightly agitated about it, you secretly enjoyed the show. 

You toggle back and forth between paying attention to the TV and surfing through various applications on your phone. You await Gwen’s response in giddy anticipation, hoping she’s not too busy to spend time with you. 

She replies about half an hour after you text her, and you can feel her excitement oozing through the phone. Her answer is a cheery one, typical of Gwen. You and she were opposites in that regard. Where she always took to finding the positives in every situation, you were a glass-half-empty kind of girl. You had gotten a little better at shaking that pessimism, but that change had occurred when things were different. The person you were now—the things you’d experienced recently—made you think it would be impossible to ever be the kind of happy Gwen was. You’d always envied her for that quality. Now more than ever. 

When Gwen arrives at your house, it’s almost noon. You hadn’t moved from your place on the living room couch, and while Pepper would’ve normally scolded you for being dormant in one spot for so long, you could tell how glad she was to see you out of your room. 

“Be right back, Morgana,” you ruffle your sister’s hair, then pull off the blankets you’d placed on your body. 

Without a glance backward at you, she gives you a thumbs up. You walk over to the front door, open it, and come face to face with your best friend. 

“Hey, girlie,” she offers you a sympathetic smile. You want to roll your eyes because how could your best friend be staring at you with as much pity as everyone else? “How are you?” She pulls you in for a hug, and you inhale the calming scent of her jasmine perfume and relax. Gwen is a perpetual presence of calm in your life, and when you give yourself a second to breathe, you observe how your heart rate slows down at the sight of her.  You remind yourself that she cares about you, just as everyone who has been doting on you does. 

“I’m okay,” you answer honestly, stepping aside to usher her inside your home. “I’ve been worse. I’ve been better.” 

She nods understandingly, stepping inside the foyer of your home. “I get it.” 

“I’m glad you’re here, though,” you admit. “I missed you a lot.” 

“I missed you too,” she agrees. “You look good, Y/N/N.” 

“I’m hanging in there,” you let out a shaky sigh. “Doing the best I can.” 

“I’m glad you texted me,” Gwen links her arm with yours, leading you to your original spot on the couch. “If you had waited any longer, I would’ve come over uninvited.” 

Morgan quickly pulls her attention away from the television screen, and her eyes light up at the sight of your best friend. “Gwen!” She squeals, finding her way into Gwen’s arms. Despite only meeting the blonde a few weeks ago, she’d automatically gravitated towards her. You couldn’t be surprised, though, as Gwen was indeed a real-life princess. 

She kisses your sister on her forehead. “Hey, Morgan, how are you, babe?” 

“Good, because Y/N is spending time with me for once,” she replies absentmindedly, attention turned back to the television. 

You let out a sigh. You usually would’ve snapped at Morgan for such an inflammatory response, but you know that what she’s saying is true. You realize that you hadn’t been there for the first five years of her life, which was entirely out of your hands. But now that you had the opportunity to connect with your little sister, the grief you felt completely inhibited you from doing so. You had to give yourself some credit for getting out of bed today, though. 

“I’ll be better, Morgan, I will,” you promise. “I’m sorry.” You mumble the last part, feeling the tears start to sting your eyes. 

Gwen instantly notices your change in demeanor and opts to change the subject. “So, Morgan, what are we watching?” 

Your sister launches into a rant about her show of choice, but you tune her out, your mind automatically wandering to the person it always wanders to: your father. The aching pain in your chest for your father had managed to subside over the last few days, but unfortunately, it had been replaced with an ache for someone else: Peter. On the day of the funeral, you’d spent the subsequent hours after your incident with said teen superhero crying into Gwen’s arms on your bathroom floor. By the time Pepper had found you, almost everyone had already left your home. She’d observed your mascara-stained cheeks and red eyes and chalked it up to your mourning. In a way, she was right, but not about the person you were grieving. You weren’t sure how you’d even explain the whole Peter situation to her. You hoped it would resolve itself before you had to. 

A few hours more of monotonous cartoon watching passed until Pepper relieved you, making up an excuse about you and Gwen having homework to do. The reality was that you hadn’t touched your homework in weeks. At this point, you barely cared if your status as valedictorian held up. You’d find it in you to worry about it at some other time. 

When you and Gwen are finally alone in your bedroom, you collapse on your bed, and she takes a seat on the spinning chair at your desk. You turn on some Taylor Swift music as background noise while you and Gwen spend most of your time scrolling through your phone. 

“I completely forgot that Harry was throwing a party tonight,” Gwen states after some time has gone by, typing something into her phone. 

At the mention of a party, you prop yourself up in your bed. You may have been fighting a seemingly incurable case of insomnia, but it wasn’t strong enough for you to miss a social gathering. You were indeed your father’s daughter in that sense. “Party?” 

“Shit, I totally should’ve mentioned something to you, but Harry told me that he already texted you,” she apologizes. “I didn’t think you’d be up to it. I’ll just hang around with you and tell him we’ll see him soon.” 

You think back and try to remember receiving a text about a party from your aforementioned friend. Your memory settles on a message that you’d received a few days ago and absentmindedly replied to with a “thanks.” Frankly, it took a lot for you to respond to Gwen's messages, let alone anyone else. 

“Fuck it, let’s go,” you proposition your best friend. “It’ll be fun. I need to get out of the house anyway.” 

Your best friend regards you cautiously, examining your appearance. “You sure? Even Harry didn’t think you’d want to go. He texted me, like, so many times asking if I thought you were going to make it. I swear to God he even offered to reschedule it so that you could come. I bet he’s going to die if you do.” 

Your stomach drops at Gwen’s implication. There was only one boy’s opinion that you cared about, and he didn’t even want to give you the time of day anymore. Frankly, you were unsure if he’d ever give it to you again. 

“Yeah, I want to. I’ve been cooped up in this house for too damn long. Besides, I think this might be the only time that Pepper willingly and eagerly lets me go to a party,” you hum. 

Gwen lets out an overjoyed shriek, and you wince. And while you’re more than eager for a change of scenery to clear your head, a larger portion of you hopes that a certain someone would swallow his pride and push away his contempt for you and Harry and possibly make a guest appearance at Harry’s party. You wish more than anything.

_____

It had taken practically three hours of preparation—mental and physical—until you left your house. 

You let Gwen borrow a cute pale green mini dress purchased from a Marc Jacobs pop-up shop before the Blip. It brought out her eyes and accentuated her long legs. You knew her parents would’ve had a heart attack if they saw her dressed the way she was, complete with bright red lipstick and intricately drawn-on eyeliner. 

You opt for a dress of the same style—a baby pink Chanel one that barely reached the tops of your thighs. You had a vague (salient) memory of Peter complimenting you in that dress some time ago, but you convinced yourself that that was not at all the reason why you’d chosen it for the party. Besides, you weren’t even sure if he was going. He wasn’t a partier and there was the very obvious issue of it being at the house of his mortal enemy, but you still had some hope! 

Pepper had generously driven you to the party, a ride mainly consisting of her and Gwen chatting about arbitrary things. You tuned everything out, too busy searching for every strategy in your arsenal to assuage your budding anxiety. 

When your stepmother finally pulls up in front of Harry’s apartment complex, you let out an audibly nervous sigh. Gwen swivels in her seat to examine you, then pulls your hand into hers. 

“You’re okay,” she squeezes your hand. “This is supposed to be fun, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you affirm with a tiny nod. “Yeah, you’re right.” 

She nudges you towards the car door. “Come on, let’s go inside.”  

“Make smart decisions!” Pepper calls after you as you exit. You roll your eyes at her statement and keep your hand intertwined with Gwen’s as she leads you towards the apartment complex’s main entrance. 

The elevator ride upstairs to Harry’s penthouse apartment is quiet. You could cut the tension with a knife. Gwen, ever the peacekeeper, does her best to mitigate it. 

“This is the quietest I’ve ever seen you,” she jokes. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I miss the rowdy Y/N.” 

You gnaw at your thumbnail. “I’m nervous, so nervous. I’m not even sure for what if I’m being completely honest.” 

“If he’s here, you take it one step at a time. I guarantee you he’s not going to ignore you completely; he has a heart,” Gwen answers. She’d done a pretty good job not bringing up Peter thus far, but she knew you well enough to understand that most of your nerves were a result of wondering whether or not he would be making an appearance tonight. 

You continue to chew on the tip of your thumb. “Mhmm.” 

With a ding, the elevator stops directly inside the Osborn’s apartment. The party is clearly in full swing, with guests in every possible crevice. You let your eyes wander to Betty and Ned, who are chatting amiably. You nudge Gwen, and she gives you a smirk, her reaction a tacit affirmation of what’s budding between said duo. You take in a few other familiar faces but no one of genuine interest. 

Stepping out into the foyer, you link arms with Gwen as you familiarize yourself with your environment. It’d been over five years since you’d been at Harry’s, and while you remember some things, the lack of time you had spent at his house before the Blip meant that you didn’t exactly know where you were going. 

The space was beautiful, though, decorated with expensive furniture and rare paintings and equipped with enough rooms for at least two families to reside. It reminded you a lot of your apartment, and now, you and Harry had another thing in common: no father around to make the home feel a little less large. Harry’s situation was much different than yours as his father chose to be absent, and yours had, well, died, but it was something that you figured he could empathize with you on in some capacity.  

Walking through the halls of the penthouse and settling in the kitchen, you let your eyes rest on a picture hanging from the wall of Harry in his Midtown High lacrosse uniform, the smile he wears so cocky and confident that it’s almost blinding. Ever the New York socialite. It makes you giggle. 

“Wonder where Harry is,” you ponder. 

When you receive no response from Gwen, you glance over at her. “God, I didn't think MJ would be here.” You follow Gwen’s eyes to where MJ sits on a stool at the kitchen island, head resting on her palm as she scrolls through her phone. The blonde gapes at her crush, and you giggle at her frazzled reaction. It gives you some comfort to see that you aren’t the only one nervous to see someone you have feelings for. Yeah, you want what’s happening between you and Peter to work out, but Gwen deserves happiness more than anyone. She’d been subject to some shitty romantic partners, but MJ had the capacity to change Gwen’s perception of love. She had already started doing that. 

“Go talk to her, loser,” you hip-butt her. 

Gwen’s emerald eyes light up at your encouragement. “You sure? I don’t want to leave you alone.” 

“I’ll be totally fine,” you assure her. That’s maybe 50% true, but you don’t want to give Gwen any more reasons to worry about you. Plus, you’re not a child and don’t need a babysitter. Most of the time.

“Okay, okay, I’ll see you later,” she squeezes your shoulder. “Keep me updated, Y/N, please.” 

You give her a nod, your lips turning up into a smile. “Make smart decisions.” 

Gwen giggles at how you mock your stepmom, then skips toward MJ, her curled blonde hair bouncing with each step she takes. 

Distracted by your friend and her crush, you miss entirely the person approaching you from behind. 

“Holy shit, you’re here,” a familiar male voice observes. “I didn’t think—oh my God, this is like the best surprise ever.” Your question about where the party's host was had finally been answered. 

You whip around to face Harry, and you grin at him, as he pulls you into his arms. “Shit, Harry, didn’t think I’d get this reaction from you. Am I that important?”  

“I’m so excited to see you,” he acknowledges. “And yeah, you’re pretty much the life of the party. You know that. Come with me.” And with that, he’s pulling you by your arm into another part of the house. You end up in the living room, where there are even more people than there were scattered throughout the house. 

“Thank you for that compliment. I know the party was incredibly dull without me, but now I’m here, and you can officially start to enjoy yourself,” you tease. Harry rolls his eyes playfully and continues leading you on your original path. 

You set eyes on more familiar faces. Some people from your classes that you’ve interacted with a few times here and there. Others are strangers, while some others look vaguely familiar. 

“Everyone, look who decided to make an appearance!” Harry bellows, grabbing your hand and lifting it above your head to draw attention to you. People’s conversations halt as they stop to listen to Harry. “The one, the only, Y/N Stark!” 

The room is silent for a good few seconds, people staring you up and down and whispering to their friends as the realization of who you are—or rather who your father is—sets in.

A few more seconds go by until you decide to break the awkward silence. “Well, what are you all staring at me for?” You laugh awkwardly. “Isn’t this supposed to be a party?!” 

That’s all it takes for the crowd of moronic teenagers to erupt into raucous screams. 

“You were right,” Harry calls to you. “You really are the life of the party.” You laugh awkwardly. Maybe this party wasn’t such a great idea after all? 

_____

You end up having more drinks than you probably should have. When your head starts to pound, and the ceiling spins above you, you decide it’s time to slow down. You were pretty sure Harry was crossfaded, as he was much more talkative (and flirty) than usual—telltale signs that he wasn’t sober. You knew his vices of choice were weed and sometimes—only sometimes— coke, but he had sworn that he had kicked that habit. You weren’t sure what he was on tonight, but you were positive it was a combination of at least two substances. 

So after stumbling with him back into the living room, tripping over your platform Versace heels a few times, and almost knocking over a few vases, you finally come to sit on a vacant couch. 

“So, how’d you get your dad to agree to this?” You gesture around the room. 

“Told him I was only having a few people over. He won’t know the difference, and either way, he’s halfway around the world,” he answers. “Plus, it’s not like he gives a shit about me anyway.” 

“At least your dad’s alive,” you sigh (somewhat dramatically, you might add), and collapse on the couch behind you, your dress riding up slightly in the process. You observe how Harry’s eyes flicker over towards the tops of your newly exposed thighs, and while the attention would normally make you giddy, you feel the compulsion to pull the skirt of your dress further down your thighs.   

Harry clears his throat awkwardly, but you watch as he examines you out of his peripheral vision. 

“You, um, you look really nice tonight, Y/N. Like really, really, fucking pretty,” he blurts out. 

“You already told me that, like, one hundred times, silly,” you giggle. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he answers awkwardly. “Just thought I’d tell you again.” 

An uncomfortable silence settles between you for a few moments after the barraging of compliments that Harry paid you. 

“Hey, I’m going to go to the bathroom,” you finally speak up, standing up abruptly and smoothing your skirt off. 

Harry’s quick to respond, standing up at almost the same time as you do. “Yeah, yeah, of course. You good?” 

You force yourself to smile. “Mhmm. I’ll be back in a jiff.” You watch how Harry regards you strangely at your awkward choice of phrasing, and you cringe as you turn away from him. 

You stagger towards the bathroom, and when you arrive at the one closest to the kitchen, it’s packed, even considering how large it is— filled to the brim with girls doing various things like applying makeup, or smoking, or snorting illegal substances off the marble countertop. You’d pushed past two girls making out, hands groping each other wildly, not a care in the world for the fact the others were in the bathroom, too. 

Not in the mood to be overwhelmed by a gaggle of girls, you exit the room as quickly as possible and go to find another vacant bathroom. In your slightly drunken stupor, it feels like it takes forever to walk down the halls of the penthouse, and you brace yourself on the wall with the palms of your hands. 

Trailing down a long hallway that’s completely uninhabited, your hand closes around every door knob you come in contact with, but each time you open a door, you fail to find a bathroom. Pouting frustratedly, you decide that if the next door you open doesn’t lead to a bathroom, you’ll give up on the whole thing and return to Harry. Plus, it wasn’t like you actually needed to use the bathroom; you just needed a breather. 

Setting your sights upon one last room, you absentmindedly tug the door open. Your mouth instantly falls open as soon as you do this. 

The good news about the current sight before you was that you had in fact found a bathroom. The bad news was that you had stumbled upon two people in quite a compromising situation, one of whom was the person you’d been looking for the entire night. You never would’ve imagined walking in on with a girl’s legs wrapped around his waist as he kissed her fervently. They were practically dry-humping each other, and you were even sober enough to hear the tiny whimpers that she emitted. 

It takes you a few seconds to process the scene that unfolds before you, and when it all finally resonates with you, you let your mouth fall open in shock. “What the fuck?” 

Peter pulls away from his partner, who you finally recognize as a girl you had APUSH with during your sophomore year. You think her name is Kelly? Maybe Karen? Maybe Kristen? Even without the disdain that you currently held for her, you could objectively say that she was a bitch. 

Peter’s eyes are the size of saucers, and a deep crimson blush paints his cheeks. “Y/N.” 

“I can’t believe you,” you seethe. “You were rejecting me less than two weeks ago and now you’re hooking up with her.” 

“I have a name,” Kendra? Kirsten? Chrysanthemum? snaps back at you, then turns to Peter, a perplexed look on her face. “She tried to get with you two weeks ago?” 

“‘I have a name,’” you mock. “And he tried to get with me first. Can we talk about this outside? I don’t really want her knowing our business.”

Peter obliges you, and you make your way into the hallway together. 

“I don’t really know what to say to you, Y/N,” Peter answers sheepishly. 

Crossing your arms over one another you scoff. “You’ve said and done enough.” 

“Y/N,” he sighs, then pauses abruptly, running an awkward hand through his hair. “After everything that happened at your dad’s funeral, I felt so shitty, we should’ve talked about us at another time. It was wrong of me to treat you that way.” 

You instantly perk up at his apology, uncrossing your arms. “So what are you saying?” A large part of you is optimistic that Peter wants to try to work things out with you, but judging by his tone and disposition, you know your hopes are futile. 

“I still don’t think it would be a good idea for us to be together,” he replies. “Things aren’t great right now for either of us.” 

“But it’s okay for you to move on? If I would’ve walked in, like, five minutes later, you probably would’ve been fingering her,” you snap crudely. 

“Who am I to tell you what to do with your life? Who are you to tell me what to do with mine? You should be able to be with whoever you want,” he replies back in the same tone. 

A wicked smirk settles on your face as you analyze his words. “Oh yeah? Anyone? Well, then I guess I’ll see what Mr. Obsorn’s up to at this very moment.” 

He gapes at you. “You’re being cruel.” 

You pout tantalizingly. “You used to like it when I was mean to you. Now you don’t like it anymore? Strange.” 

Peter’s already dark brown eyes flame so deeply that they almost turn black. “Fuck you.” 

Already having turned on your heel to return back down the hallway, you let out a coquettish giggle. “Yeah, yeah, you already had your chance!” 

You wait until you’re finally out of Peter’s line of vision to let the tears fall. 

_____

It hadn’t taken much to convince Harry that you wanted to find yourself in some place more private. After your debacle with Peter you’d sauntered over to where he was, still situated patiently on the couch that you had both been occupying. It had only taken a few swishes of your hips, some hair tousling, and a kiss on Harry’s cheek before he had led you to his room. 

You hadn’t been in his room since before the Blip when you’d been forced to work on a lab report together for AP Chemistry. Your purpose for being in his room now was clearly very different. 

Within a few minutes of being alone, he’d pinned you against his bedroom door and placed his lips on yours. His hands had traveled straight to your waist, and before you knew it they were traveling even further down until they rested on your ass. The whole interaction was as lackluster as it had been the only other time you’d tried it with Harry, but you didn’t have the capacity to think straight. 

He’d led you to his bed to make you more comfortable, taking note of your reaction every few seconds. You did your best to focus on the scent of his expensive cologne or how soft his hair felt as you tangled your fingers in it, or how comfortable his duvet felt underneath you, but none of this did anything to quell your nerves or, quite frankly, arouse you. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers gently into your ear, moving some loose strands of hair away from your eyes. “I’ve been thinking about doing this with you again forever.” 

You cringe at his admission, but once again, do your very best to suppress the apprehension that you feel. This is obviously a terrible idea, born from impulsivity, alcohol, and anger, but you can’t will yourself to stop. 

You try to relax as his lips trail down from your ear to your jaw and finally to your neck, sucking tiny patterns into your skin, while his hands trail slowly underneath your dress and up your thighs. His hands are soft on your skin, but his movements are abrupt. Instead of savoring the experience, it seems as though he can’t wait to get it over with. To get you out of your clothes so that something favorable can happen. 

 But all you can think about is Peter. How Peter would hold you so much more tenderly, how he would paint your neck red with his kisses, and how instinctually you’d part your legs for him so he could touch you where you needed him most. How he’d trail his hands over your ribs, kiss down your stomach, and use his tongue to make you cry out his name. And it’s at that moment when you decide that you can’t do this anymore. You can no longer make stupid, capricious decisions. You can’t be with Harry in any way that’s not platonic. But most of all, you can’t be without Peter. 

Mustering up the courage, you finally pull away from Harry’s kiss. “Harry, I can’t do this.” You grab his hand soothingly, hoping that this will mitigate some of the imminent hurt he’ll feel. 

He regards you with concern. “What’s wrong? Did I do something?” 

“No, no, it’s not you, it’s me,” you squeeze his hand. Cliche much? “I just feel like maybe, this is not the right time to do this. We both were drinking and that makes things so much more confusing. And, like, maybe we’re rushing into this?” 

You’re not prepared for the way that Harry’s expression instantly morphs from one of confusion into one of anger. “I’m confused—what are you saying? Y/N, I’ve waited for you for twelve fucking years.” 

“Harry,” you caution, finally sliding out from under his grasp. You cross your legs over one another and prop yourself up a few inches away from where he sits. “I don’t understand why you’re getting so mad about this.” You knew it was better to play stupid than to try to console him and tell him that you knew full well why he was feeling what he was. It was obvious that you had led him on and clear that you’d been doing so for years. But couldn’t he at least cut you some slack, especially during this difficult time?

“I’m mad, Y/N because I’ve spent so much of my goddamn time trying to get you to like me, trying to make you realize that I’m head over fucking heels for you,” he snaps. “I don’t know how much clearer I could’ve been. Calling you every damn day to check up on you, buying you sympathy gifts, spending this entire night with you when I could’ve actually been hanging out with other people.” 

“Wait, wait, wait,” you hold up your hand to signal to him to pause his rambling. “You’re telling me that you did all of that, so what—so I’d suck your dick? So I’d let you go down on me? Do you realize how that sounds, Harry.” 

“Stop playing dumb. You’ve known all along how I feel about you. How badly I want you,” Harry laughs bitterly. “And you completely strung me along. The flirting wasn’t fucking one-sided, Y/N.” 

“I wasn’t entirely sure,” you mutter, looking down at your lap in embarrassment. “And I was just being nice.” Even you realize how much of a lie that is. 

“‘You weren’t entirely sure,’ oh please, look me in the eye and tell me that. Look me in the eye and say that to me with a straight face, Y/N,” he dismisses you. 

Your lip quivers, and you let out a shaky breath. “Stop it, Harry.” 

“Oh, you’re about to cry, Y/N?” He taunts. “I should be the one fucking crying. You’re pathetic.” 

You quickly wipe at the tears forming in your eyes. “Harry—Harry, you’re being mean.” You were pretty sure Peter had just told you the same thing a few minutes ago, but that wasn’t important right now. 

“And you’re a bitch,” he states tersely. “You need to leave.” 

“Harry,” you plead, placing a hand on his shoulder. He shrugs it off abruptly, and your hand falls back into your lap. You can barely see through the sea of tears flowing from your eyes. “Don’t be like this.” 

“Get out,” he spits. 

You climb off of his bed as quickly as your legs will carry you, doing your best to remain calm. “Fuck you,” you choke out. “Every time you think about why we stopped being friends—every time someone asks you what happened between us—every time you miss me—I want you to remember this moment. I want you to remember that you treated me like garbage because I wouldn’t let you fuck me.” 

Harry remains silent, facing away from you and offering you no reaction. Just as your hand is on the doorknob to leave, Harry calls out your name to stop you. 

“Oh and, Y/N,” he begins. You stop where you stand but don’t offer him the courtesy of turning around to meet his gaze. Just by the tone of his voice, you knew that he wasn’t going to say something pleasant. “I know all about you and Parker.” 

You’re not even sure that you’re breathing at that point. 

“I bet your father’s rolling in his grave right now,” he lets out a sarcastic chuckle. “I mean, Jesus, what kind of whore hooks up with someone at her dad’s funeral?” 

“Go to hell,” you snap back, grabbing the handle to his bedroom door and slamming it shut. 

“Maybe I’ll see you there!” Harry calls back. 

It hits you at that instant that Harry is the second boy to reject you in about two weeks. It seems that regardless of how much you beg or how much you solicit yourself, you can never seem to attain the attention and affection of anyone fully. 

It stings that you’d expected Harry to never be like the other boys that you and your friends complained about. He’d always been so respectful, so caring, so patient. Now, he was treating you like a stranger, as though you’d done the most egregious thing known to mankind. If this was the way that Harry truly was behind closed doors, then frankly, you wanted nothing to do with him. 

_____

After your blowout with Harry, you’d gone searching for Gwen all around the apartment, and with a misplaced phone, you couldn’t contact her to find out where she’d gone. When you finally found your phone, you saw that she had texted multiple times looking for you. The last text she’d sent you had informed you that she was leaving with MJ but that she’d looked all over for you. 

So, you grabbed your belongings and exited the apartment as quickly as possible. You hadn't exactly planned out what you’d do after leaving though… 

You spent a good half hour wandering around the streets of the Upper East Side aimlessly, letting yourself sob uncontrollably into your tweed Gucci jacket. You had undoubtedly ruined the white fabric with your mascara-stained tears, but you didn’t care enough. 

You missed your father. You needed Gwen. Hell, you would’ve even settled for being comforted by Pepper. But ultimately, you just wanted Peter. You hated that he was all you could think about. Even after getting into a fight with him that night, you still needed him. You couldn’t part ways with him so quickly, and you knew he felt the same way. You knew that he was pushing you away to protect himself, and you understood that. But you knew now more than ever that you were ready to commit to him. 

You knew that the way you had pushed him away in the past was beyond fucked up, and you knew that making him adhere to your time frame meant that he didn’t owe you anything. And, of course, there was the whole Harry situation. You regretted everything that had to do with Harry—not only what had transpired tonight. But maybe, just maybe, if you could go to him, and have a real heart-to-heart, then maybe things could be different. 

Another capricious decision leads you to get on the train to Queens. You hadn’t been on the Subway in years. Your father had always denounced public transportation, explaining there was no reason for it when Happy was there to take you anywhere you wanted. Now, you certainly could’ve called your godfather to pick you up, but you didn’t want him to see you so defeated. Plus, you needed the time to think about what you’d say to Peter. How would you rectify this situation? If you could rectify this situation.

The trip feels so long and arduous—especially given the time—as it requires you to get off at various stations, sometimes walking for ten minutes at a time to catch the next departing trains. Part of you enjoys this, though, as it gives you time to think about how to approach this issue, and sober up too. 

When you arrive in Queens, it’s 1:08 am exactly. You had texted Pepper and told her you were sleeping at Gwen’s. Hopefully, she didn’t question it. 

You know the way from this station to Peter’s apartment. A walk that normally felt like a few minutes currently felt like hours. Finally, his apartment complex coming into your line of sight makes you wish that the walk could’ve possibly been a little longer. But you muster up all the strength that you have and enter the building. 

The elevator ride upstairs has you wringing out your hands nervously and pacing back and forth. It feels like the exact same experience that you had earlier today going up to Harry’s apartment. This is the worst kind of deja vu ever. 

The next few minutes feel like a blur as you walk to Peter’s apartment, doing your best to breathe and not to cry. You exhale shakily and finally let your knuckle come in contact with the wooden door that leads inside the Parker’s home. 

May opens the door a few seconds after your knock, an incredibly shocked look on her face. Ever the beautiful woman, she has her long hair placed in a haphazard yet stylish bun. Glasses rest crookedly on the bridge of her nose, and she wears some comfortable-looking loungewear, notably a Star Wars t-shirt (that you’re pretty sure belongs to her nephew). She was obviously sleeping before you woke her up, and now you feel terrible. Even more than you already did. 

“Y/N,” she states, blinking a few times to take in the sight of you. “What are you doing here, sweetie?” 

“Um, oh, God, I’m sorry,” you breathe out nervously, feeling the tears starting to fall from your eyes for the umpteenth time that night. “I came here looking for Peter, but I just realized how crazy it was for me to come here uninvited in the middle of the night. I’m gonna go now. I’m so sorry for wasting your time, Ms. Parker.” 

“No, no, Y/N, please, please come in. Talk to me, something is obviously wrong. Talk to me, honey,” she urges you, grabbing your arm to lead you inside her home slowly. 

“I, um, I messed up really badly, and I’m trying to make it up to Peter, but I’m doing a shitty—I mean, I’m doing a really bad job, and he won’t forgive me. But I need him to. I need to talk to him so badly,” you ramble hysterically, your chest rising and falling in uneven, labored increments. “It’s just been a really bad night.” 

“Oh, Y/N,” May coos softly, wiping your tears away with her thumbs. “It’s going to be okay. It is, honey, I promise. Peter’s taking a shower, okay? But you’re more than welcome to stay here and wait until he finishes. Do you want to do that?” 

“Yeah,” you nod abruptly. “Please.” 

“Okay,” she offers you a concerned smile. “Come here, honey.” 

She guides you over to the largest couch in the living room and takes you into her arms, rubbing comforting circles into your back. You will yourself to stop crying but you can’t. The tears feel like they’ll never stop. 

Another fifteen minutes pass until you hear the water shut off in the bathroom. When it finally does, your heart jumps. 

“You know,” May states gently. “I’m not sure what’s going on between you and Peter—even though I can probably make some assumptions—but I want you to know that he does care about you, and I’m sure he always will.” 

“I don’t know. I feel like he hates me,” you mumble, wiping some more tears away from your eyes. 

May laughs. “Never. He could never.”

You fiddle with your fingers nervously. “Yeah, I’m not so sure. Like I said, I really messed up. I don’t know how to fix it.” 

May continues to rub your back soothingly. “Well, you’re here now, and that has to count for something.” 

“I don’t even know what I’ll say to Peter,” you sigh. 

“Just be honest with him. He’ll be able to tell when you’re putting up a front, but he’s not as stubborn as you peg him to be. Peter just wants you to know that you care,” May answers. 

“I do care; so much,” you agree fervently. 

The sound of Peter’s bedroom door opening brings your conversation to a halt. You hold your breath as you wait for Peter to appear. You have no idea how he will react or if he’ll even hear you out. You try to take May’s advice and praise yourself for even seeking him out. However, your anxiety berates you and calls you obsessed, desperate, pathetic. He already turned you down one time, so why are you continuing? You don’t even know.  

May calls to him. “Hey, Peter, you doing okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m exhausted, though,” he yawns. You watch as he emerges from his room in nothing but a pair of loose plaid boxer shorts as he simultaneously dries his hair off with a towel. You subconsciously shift in May’s arms to get a better look at him, your eyes gliding across his taut abs and the cords of muscle that adorn his arms and hands. Your tongue instinctually darts out to wet your lip, but you do your best to quell the budding arousal that you’re experiencing. Now is certainly not the time for that way of thinking.  

As he walks closer to you, you feel like you’re going to faint. You can’t remember the last time that you were this nervous. 

When he finally does set eyes on you, you see many emotions flashing across his face: anger, confusion, hope? 

“Hi, Pete,” you choke out, offering him a cautious wave. 

“Y/N,” he states. You can see a tiny wave of concern flash across his face as he takes in your fully disheveled state. “What’s wrong?”

“So many things,” you reply through teary eyes. “So many things went wrong tonight. But, please, please, Peter, let me talk to you; please hear me out.” 

“I’ll leave you two alone,” May announces softly. You pull away from her, and she gives you a knowing look as if to say, “You’ve got this!” She then slowly makes her way to her room; however, you’re pretty sure she lingers outside of it around for a few minutes. 

Peter makes his way over to where you are on the couch, but instead of sitting, he remains standing with his arms crossed. 

You swallow nervously before answering. “I know you say you don’t want to be with me. That you think it’s a bad idea for us to be together, but I can’t do this anymore. It’s killing me to be apart from you. I think about you all the time. I—I don’t know how much longer I can go on without you. And I don’t want to beg you to be with me, I know I look so pathetic coming here and pleading with you, but I don’t know how else to apologize.” 

He stares at you blankly. “Y/N, the reason that I say we can’t be together is that I know how easily you change your mind. How easily you get confused and bored and how difficult it is for you to make sense of how your actions hurt others. In a relationship, that’s not okay. I just feel like—I don’t know, you have no regard for how other people feel sometimes.” 

“You’re right,” you agree. “But you had no regard for how I felt tonight. You totally dismissed how I was feeling after I walked in on you and Kameron. Do you know how badly that hurt? The way that you made me feel is the way that you seem to feel when Harry and I do anything together..” 

“First of all, her name is Keira. Secondly, I saw how you and Harry were at the party tonight. You were practically sitting in his lap begging for him to sleep with you,” Peter retorts. 

“I didn’t go to the fucking party for Harry. I went to the party for you. I can barely get out of bed most days, but I got up today for you, and I made myself look pretty for you, and I went searching around Harry’s entire fucking apartment for you,” you sob. “And when you rejected me tonight, I made a complete fucking fool out of myself. I thought that trying to distract myself with Harry would make me feel better. But it didn’t—he hates me just as much as you do. He called me a whore and a bitch.” 

Peter immediately sits next to you on the couch, his eyes filled with rage. Once again, seeing Peter in such a worked-up state made your thighs clench together. “He called you what?” 

“He said I was a whore,” you repeat, wiping away some more tears. “He knows about us, and when I rejected him, well, he went off. Said all of these horrible things to me.” 

“That fucker,” Peter mutters under his breath. “I’m going to kill him.” 

“But I’m not your girlfriend, so you shouldn’t care,” you reply dryly. 

Peter stares at you for a few seconds as though fully taking you in. Thoroughly analyzing your facial features and trying to understand the implications of your words. “Y/N, it’s impossible for me to stop thinking about you too. I’ve tried so hard to remind myself of what I said to you the day of your father’s funeral. Tried to force myself to stick to my words. But I didn’t mean any of that; I was an asshole. Hell, it killed me to reject you again tonight. And I do believe that we’re bad for each other; but not all the time. I do believe that this might not work. But maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance that it could?” 

Your ears perk up at his words, but for once, you choose to keep your sarcastic remarks to yourself. 

“I think it could,” you reply quickly. “I know it could. Because I want you, I want you so badly, and I’m willing to work for it. To work to make this good for the both of us.” 

“Yeah?” Peter’s eyes flicker from your eyes to your mouth. “You sure?” 

“Mhmm,” you nod enthusiastically. “More sure than I’ve ever been of anything.” 

“Maybe we can try this and see how it goes,” he suggests, his hand having found its way to your cheek to stroke it. 

“I’d like that,” you say. “I’d like that a lot.” 

When he finally leans in to press his lips to yours, you swear you ascend to heaven. Where you had tensed up as Harry had kissed you, you relax under Peter’s embrace, letting him guide you through laying back on the couch and moving his hands to skirt up your thighs. You buck against him as his tongue moves in tandem with yours, and you tug at his wet curls. 

“Wanna go to my room?” His fingers glide up and down your arm gently. 

“Yes, please. But wait, don’t you think your aunt is going to be suspicious?” You inquire with a smirk. 

He trails kisses from your cheek down to your neck down to your collarbone. “She’s asleep.” 

“You’re positive?” You whimper, your arm resting comfortably around his neck. 

He finally tugs you up from the couch and ushers you toward his room. “Spidey senses remember?”  

“Is that what those are for? Not getting caught during late-night sex?” You giggle as he closes the door to his room behind you. 

“We’re having sex?” He stares at you with wide eyes. 

“Oh, God, shit, I just assumed?” You panic. 

“Just messing with you, pretty girl,” he steps closer to you and grins. “I wanted to fuck you since the moment I saw you in this dress.” He grabs your hips to pull you closer to him, then kisses you softly again. 

You feel like you barely blink before he has you on his bed, underneath him. You melt under his embrace, reveling in the feeling of his gentle kisses on your lips, your cheek, and your neck. 

You bring his larger hand around to the small of your back so he can find the zipper on your dress. “I’ve been waiting for you to take it off me since I first saw you tonight,” you answer breathlessly. 

He quickly obliges you, his fingers deftly pulling down the zipper to reveal your back. He plays with your spine, rubbing tiny circles into it, as he simultaneously uses his bare knee to spread your legs wider for him. You moan as his knee comes in contact with your wet center. You sit up momentarily for him to help you out of your dress, and you swear he looks as though he’s seen God when you’re finally out of the garment. You tuck your knees under your lap and straighten your spine so he can take you in. Your cheeks have a beautifully rosy glow, your chest rises and falls in uneven breaths, and your skin shines beautifully under the dim lighting of his bedroom. You watch as his eyes flicker toward your erect nipples, then down toward where you need him the most. 

“You’re the most beautiful person in the entire world,” he answers as earnestly as possible. Connecting your lips with his again, you bring his left hand to cup your right breast. His slim fingers instantly go to tweak your nipple, and you moan into his mouth. When he replaces his fingers with his mouth, you almost pass out. He’s barely even given you any stimulation, and you already feel like you might come. You let your hands play with his hair as he alternates between swirling his tongue on your left and right breast. 

“Touch me, Petey,” you practically beg. “I’m so wet for you.” 

Peter lets one hand travel down from your breast to your panties. He curses when his fingers come in contact with the soaked material. “Gonna take this off, okay? Lift your hips for me.” 

“Yeah,” you agree. “Okay.” He tugs the material down your thighs, leaving you fully naked. 

His hands rake over your stomach. “My beautiful girl. I really did miss you so much.” 

His words alone are enough to make you cry, but when he drags his index finger from your clit down your opening, you think you might start crying real tears. “Peter, Peter, please don’t tease.” 

“We’ll see,” he shrugs. “How badly do you want my fingers?” 

“More than anything,” you plead. “Please.” 

“Someone’s desperate,” he tsks. “Good thing I’m feeling generous.” 

You could almost laugh at how submissive you’ve become to him. But it’s so hot to see him assert some dominance over you that you don’t mind it at all. 

You yelp when he finally inserts his finger into your pussy. The wet, squelching sound, in combination with his rapid thrusts, makes your head fall back in euphoria. You let your hand travel down to play with your clit, and he adds a second finger, then eventually a third. 

“You make me feel so good,” you cry out. “God, Peter.” 

The stimulation of your clit in conjunction with the feeling of Peter’s fingers curling upward is heavenly. When he curves his index finger upwards to hit your g-spot, you let out a yelp, and your eyes widen. You’re so close and it’s only been five minutes.

“You gonna come for me?” Peter murmurs, speeding up his pace. You give him an enthusiastic nod, and when he leans forward to take your right nipple into his mouth, swirling it around his tongue, you let out one last cry and finish on his fingers, stifling your moan with your free hand. 

“That was—that was good,” you offer Peter a blissed-out smile, reaching up to caress his cheek. 

You return to kissing each other for a few minutes, moaning as your sensitive clit comes in contact with Peter’s boxer-clad erection. He finally pulls away to remove his boxers from his body. Your fingers glide across his abs as he strips himself of the last piece of clothing she wears. 

He’s just as pretty as you remember—painfully hard against his stomach, at least over 6 inches, and pink tip leaking with precum. You have the urge to get on your knees and place him into your mouth and make him cry out your name. You take him in your hand and wrap your hand around him, letting your thumb brush across his tip and collecting some of his arousal on your fingertip. 

He bucks his hips against your hand and groans out. “Jesus, babe.” You beam at the pet name he gives you. You set a comfortable pace, stroking him faster from tip to base. You take the opportunity to mark up his neck and play with his abs. 

“Do you like the way I make your cock feel?” You purr in his ear. “You’re so hard for me. Can’t wait for you to be inside me.” 

“If you keep doing that, I’ll come all over you,” he moans enthusiastically. “Let me fuck you.” 

You separate for a minute for Peter to grab a condom from his bedside table. “I see you planned for this.” 

“I was hopeful,” he shrugs with a tiny smile. Unwrapping the package, he’s quick to place the condom on himself. 

“I want to ride you,” you assert when Peter pulls you back into his embrace. Peter kisses you again, this time much more slowly and sensually. You settle on top of him, rubbing your core against his cock. You moan into his mouth as he grinds himself against you. 

“I missed you a lot, Y/N,” Peter repeats slowly. “I’m really glad we made up. I—I care about you so much.” 

Your mouth falls open in pleasure when Peter slowly inserts himself inside your pussy. “Go slow,” you breathe out. 

He grunts as he slowly sheaths himself inside of you. Despite being soaked, it takes you a minute to adjust to his size, as you hadn’t had sex in, well, over five years. Your fingers could only have so much of an impact on you. 

When he finally bottoms out, you both share a collective moan. Peter brushes a few strands of hair out of your face. “So gorgeous.” 

You lift yourself up slowly to ultimately land back on his lap again. “Peter,” you whimper. “Oh my God.” 

You rise up and down more quickly on his cock, stifling your moans in his neck. When he starts to meet his thrusts with yours, your head falls back. Peter keeps a secure hold on the small of your back as he continues a consistent pace. 

“Missed you. Missed your tight little pussy,” he moans into your ear. He licks and sucks at your breasts, marking them up with his teeth, and swirling your nipples under his tongue. 

A comfortable silence arises between you two. The way that he stares into your eyes and cradles your body in his makes your stomach swarm with butterflies and your head go dizzy. When his hand goes down to your clit, you feel the familiar sensation building in your stomach. A look of desperation flashes over your eyes as Peter speeds up his thrusts, and allows his fingers to dance more quickly across your clit. 

“Peter, Peter, Peter,” you chant. “I’m gonna—keep going just like that.”

One particular enthusiastic thrust makes you scream out, and your hand instantly flies to your mouth to cover it. 

“You feel so good around me,” Peter grunts. “I’m close, too.” 

The more Peter continues at the pace he’s established, the closer and closer you get to that very special precipice. And then, like an explosion, it hits you out of nowhere. 

You shriek, rising up and down on Peter at an animalistic pace. “Peter, fuck, Peter, I’m coming. Oh my God, baby!”  He presses his lips to yours quickly and moans into your mouth, as your pussy contracts, and you gush all over him. Your vision is enveloped by nothing but complete white, as you experience a level of pleasure that you’re sure you’ve ever achieved before. Making love to Peter after having resolved most of your problems makes you feel giddy in a way that you’d only dreamed about. To feel so loved and appreciated and worshiped by him are things you wouldn’t trade for anything. 

That familiar look settles in his eyes after you’ve orgasmed, and you work to help him reach his own climax. “Y/N, shit, Y/N.” 

“Come on, baby, give it to me, Peter,” you beg, repeating your past movements. “Come for me, Petey.” 

With those words of encouragement, he lets out a choked groan that makes you moan out with him and buries his face in your neck as he explodes into the condom. 

When he finally comes down from his high, he helps you off of him to lay next to him. Grabbing a washcloth from the bathroom, he helps you clean yourself up and then settles into bed next to you. 

“Hi,” you say softly, moving some curls away from his forehead. 

“Hi,” he iterates, his hand coming to rest on your hip. 

“I’m so sorry for everything. I know I’ve said that already, but Peter, you mean so much to me,” you state sincerely. You can feel a lump forming in your throat at your admission. “I understand that it took so much for you to forgive me, and I understand that you didn’t actually want to in the first place. But I can’t be without you in my life. I just need you to understand that.” 

“It was killing me to be away from you, too, Y/N. Like I told you, I missed you just as much,” he replies softly. 

“All I’ve ever wanted was to be with you. I hope you realize how much I truly mean that,” you tell him. “I only pushed you away because I was afraid of losing you. I thought that if I let you be there for me, then you’d get tired of me and my problems. That you’d leave me.” 

You register that you’re crying when Peter swipes away some translucent droplets from your cheeks. “I could never leave you. You are incredibly annoying sometimes, and so stubborn, and a little bit aloof, but that doesn’t stop me from caring about you like I do.” 

You take the opportunity to bring your reunion to a close by wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him gently. “Goodnight, Pete.” You snuggle into his embrace, and he lets his head fall into your neck comfortably, his hands still rubbing languid circles on your back. 

You sleep wonderfully that night—certainly the best you have in weeks. When you finally wake up around 11 am the next morning, you notice that Peter is still asleep next to you. Smiling softly at him, you rake your fingers through his curls and place a kiss on his forehead lovingly. 

Untangling yourself from his sheets and letting your feet hit the floor of his bedroom, you rummage through his drawers for an oversized t-shirt to pull over your body. Tugging your panties over your legs, you also pull on some of Peter’s fuzzy socks to keep your feet warm. 

In your exhausted but elated stupor, you barely have time to think about the fact that May is probably up and waiting for Peter in the kitchen. 

It is a Sunday morning after all. 

Dragging your feet to the kitchen, you let out a tired yawn. 

“Good morning, Peter—oh wow, Y/N?” May yelps, almost dropping the coffee mug in her hand. “I didn’t know you stayed the night.” 

“Oh, um, yeah, it was late by the time that Peter and I finished talking, so I just slept over. I hope that was okay,” you answer uncomfortably. 

Her eyes rake over the outfit that you wear. She obviously knows what you stayed over to do. “No problem.” 

You quickly pivot on your heel to walk back to Peter. “I’m going to go wake up Peter.” 

May nods awkwardly, and you make your way back toward Peter’s room. 

When you arrive back inside Peter’s room, you take a careful seat back on the edge of his bed. The action awakens him, and he turns to face you. 

“Hey, baby,” you call to him gently. “Did you sleep well?” 

“Because you were here, yeah,” he offers you a cheeky smile. “Why are you smiling so wide, pretty girl?” You blush at the nickname as he takes his hand in yours. 

“Just happy,” you answer genuinely. You snuggle up next to him and let your eyes flutter closed. And for the first time in weeks, you register that you’d woken up honestly, indisputably happy, and naturally, just as you’d expected, Peter was the cause. 

[spiderslag]

Where did that one dilf!peter parker fanfic go I miss it :(

The one where he was readers neighbour 😔

[dracoslittleangel]

tasm spiderman is just >>> so ofc I'll need to request something with him

aCK OKAy maybe fem!reader was sick or had a bad day and he's comforting her 😭😭 that's such a cute idea omg

a/n: so sorry for taking so long but im back to writing!!! I think im gonna make it a headcanon coz i'll have to read more full length fics of tasm peter to write one. anyways, i tried my best and this is my first time writing tasm peter parker.

It was past midnight and you were still up, trying to complete your assignments until it was too much and you started silently crying, your head in your hands.

You heard the window of your room click open but didn't look up to see who it was, knowing it was your boyfriend Peter who just returned from his night patrolling.

The moment his caramel eyes landed on your slumped figure, his heart broke.

He quickly got out of his spiderman suit and into his pyjamas that he left at yours for whenever he comes over.

"Y/N, baby", he whispered as he kneeled down in front of you and took your hands away from your face to look at your eyes.

His concerned eyes met your frustated ones and his stomach dropped at your state.

"What's wrong?", he asked with worried eyes as he wiped your tears and got up from his previous position, hands still on your cheeks.

"I-I had a very b-bad day and I h-have to sub-submit these assignments p-positively-", you managed to speak in between cries before getting interrupted.

"Shhh, baby. It's okay, it will be fine, you'll be fine. Trust me, I'll help you,yeah?", he said while taking you up in his strong,muscular arms,wrapping your legs around his torso.

He gently laid you down on the bed before covering your cold body with a blanket.

He kissed your forehead and joined you under the covers before you shifted towards him and rested your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

He rubbed your back soothingly and whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

"You are a strong girl, my girl. My bug.", he told you.

He kissed your temple every now and then before he finally placed a kiss on your plump lips.

"I love you so much, bug", he whispered when you were almost asleep.

"I love you more", you sleepily mumbled at which he chuckled.

That was the last thing you heard before drifting off into a peaceful slumber.

You woke up to something falling and saw Peter picking up your books and pen stand.

You furrowed your eyes in confusion and muttered," What are you doing?"

He looked at you in surprise.

"Oh..didn't mean to wake you up. I just got done with your assignments and I was packing your books and I accidently tripped on-"

"You-you completed my assignments?, you asked, your eyes filling with tears. How did you get so lucky?

"Well yeah-baby why are you crying?", he rushed over to you and took you in his arms.

"Thank you. I love you so much", you didn't give him the chance to respond as you smashed your lips onto his, pouring all the love you had for him into the kiss.

(Also,just imagine there's nothing like morning breath)

tags: @siriusblackstwin

[peterpan1234567]

I don’t know what to do

[lvrellie]

MAE'S : ̗̀➛ NAVIGATION

ABOUT ME. ╰┈ nineteen. she/her. taylor & lana lover!! annoying marvel freak. gamer. sometimes edits? writer! reqs. are open. 18+ blog!

˚ ༘ ⋆ MASTERLIST

╰┈ ELLIE WILLIAMS

tba !

╰┈ PETER PARKER / MCU

tba !

[tomholland1996simp]

After care || Peter Parker

warnings: Slight smut, peter not giving the reader after care, moaning, fluff at end.

Summary: The reader and Peter have sex for the first time, however when Peter gets a message he leaves the reader straight after they had finished. Not realising that after care is important for the both of them rather than spider-man duties.

Haven’t read this over so could be mistakes?

“After we can cuddle and watch a movie”

He told you.

But why are you now crying in your bed, sore. He promised you that everything will be okay, and that he loves you….but now you feel utterly stupid. Stupid because you let the boy you have been in love with for ages take your virginity just to leave as soon as he pulled out.

Flashback

“Pete…that’s not gonna fit” You told your boyfriend, Peter. You finally had gotten intimate with him, but once you saw the size of his cock you got worried. You hadn’t ever seen a dick in real life, yeah you have seen boys dick pics but never in person. And Peter was really big.

“It’s okay, baby. We’ll go slow” He rolled the condom on his dick, biting back a moan as the rubber rolled down onto his shaft. “You sure you wanna do this?” He asked, making sure you wanted to do this right now, knowing you are a virgin.

“Yeah, please I need you” You whine, just wanting to feel him inside of you. By that answer he slowly pushed into your tight pussy, both of you moaning by the new pleasure. At first it hurt, luckily Peter didn’t move until you gave him the heads up. “Okay, m-move’ You tell him, him slowly thrusting into your cunt.

The pain slowly turned into pleasure making you let out moans. Sex filled your room, luckily your parents were away for the week. “F-fuck, faster” You scream out, Peter thrusting into you at a faster pace. It felt like heaven, your legs wrapping around his waist, trying to help him with his thrusts. Your nails were digging into his back, making him moan louder.

“Baby you feel so good” He moaned into your ear his thrusts getting sloppy, you both knew you were not gonna last too long. “F-fuck, y/n i’m gonna cum” Peter thrusted more roughly, his hands gripping your waist a bit too tight than he tended to.

“F-fuck, s-slow d-“ You couldn’t tell him to slow down a little, it felt good but also started to hurt a little. “I’m g-gonna cum” You told him, your orgasms coming.

“Cum with me, doll” And with one more thrust you both came undone, screaming each others names. You felt the hot liquid burst into the condom, Peter riding you both out through your high, then collapsing on top of you.

After a few minutes, you were both breathless placing small kisses on each others lips. Peters cock still buried inside of you. “That was-“ Before you could finish your sentence, Peters phone rang. He picked it up, not pulling out just yet. You couldn’t hear the unknown person who had called him, but you saw Peters facial expression go a little panicked.

“I’ll be there” He spoke, ending the call and pulling his phone back on the side. Without saying a word to you, he quickly pulled out of you making a small whimper fall from your mouth, he didn’t hear though. Now you felt sore. Pulling the covers up, you watched as he frantically tried to find his clothes that were thrown around the room.

You sit up, confused. Was he leaving?

“Where are you going? Come cuddle” You told him, watching him put his jeans on and throwing his shirt over his head. He quickly slung his bag over his shoulder now turning to look at you.

“I gotta go babe. ummm May needs me home” He spoke quickly running out of your bedroom, you were about to call for him but you heard your front door slam shut. You slowly slid down your bed, the sinking feeling coming. Now you felt stupid, hurt and sore.

How could he literally just leave you?

You just had sex with him and not only did he pull our roughly, he also left. Normally you dreamed of this day for ages. Having sex for the first time, ending the day with cuddles and being there for each other. But in reality your boyfriend just left as his aunt needs him home?

May even told you herself that Peter could stay. She trusted you both as seventeen year olds. Tears slowly fell down your face, you slowly walked out of your bed, the pain in between your legs being a bitch. You jumped into the shower quickly, feeling disgusted. Disgusted as you should be with Peter in the shower right now, not alone crying in it.

Once showering and cleaning yourself, you got into a fresh pair of pjs. Brushing your hair, then going back into your bed, crying until you fell back to sleep.

————————————

Now it’s the next day, you woke up late meaning you would have to walk into school late. First thing you did is get a glass of water, your throat was dry. You checked your phone, seeing no calls or messages from Peter. You was going to skip school today, however you have a test and luckily it’s Friday.

You threw on a pair of leggings and a hoodie, which is in fact Peters. Sighing, you walked through the school gates, not bothering to check in to let them know your late. It was currently 11, so your gonna have to walk through half of Chemistry.

“Y/n your late” Your teacher told you when you walked through the door, saying as if you hadn’t even noticed. Rolling your eyes, you take your normal seat next to Ned. He gives you a concerning look at first seeing your state. Bags under your eyes, no makeup, and you would always put a little bit of makeup on no matter what. Peter always told you that you never needed it. Lesson was over, everyone was going to lunch. You wasn’t looking forward to lunch, you would have to sit next to Peter.

“Hey, baby. You okay?” Peter smiled, taking a seat next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. He really doesn’t know how he made you feel when he left last night.

You nod in return, still upset and mad at him. You didn’t feel like eating your sandwich after the first few bites. You didn’t join in Neds or Peters conversation either you blocked them out. Until you heard that one voice of your best friend, MJ.

“What’s up Nerds, y/n” She smiled a little.

You quickly stood up throwing your bag on your shoulder, needing to spill everything to her. “I need to talk to you” Is all you say grabbing her hand the boys giving you both looks.

“Woah, okay calm down what’s up?” MJ asked once you had dragged her into an empty classroom. You paced up and down thinking whether you was being stupid, overthinking the whole situation.

“Peter and I had sex yesterday” You finally blurt out and her eyes widen, smirking. “Sex! Yes y/n, I mean finally you both have been dating for like a year now. How was it-it wasn’t good was it?” She said happy for you but your facial expression made her think different.

“No it was amazing, it felt so-okay sorry. But once we like finished he got a call and just left. Saying something about May needing him, but she told me he could stay. And once he left I felt disgusted as he literally left me after we did that. He took my virginity and leaves. I was so sore and I just needed him. He’s acting like nothing happened and-wait where you going” You ramble and she stands up leaving the classroom mad.

“Gonna knock some sense into that kid” MJ needed to sort this out, she loved you a lot, you both are best friends and she’s pissed at Peter for doing that to you. You out of all people.

“No no Mj!” You try call after her but she had already gone over to him at the table.

————————————-

Peter POV

“You and y/n had sex last night, wow” Ned found out the news his best friend had told him, them both doing their hand shake.

“It was the best” Peter smiled remembering the moments you had both experienced that night.

Ned proudly looked at his friend, “Was it awkward after or did you just both cuddle the rest of the night” He asked.

“Oh I had to leave. Spiderman duties” Peter said so obviously.

Ned’s eyes widen, “You just left. Peter are you dumb?!” He asked and Peter looked at him confused. “Bro she’s a virgin, you left her and she doesn’t know your spider-man. Haven’t you ever heard of after care?” “Well yeah, but I needed to help as there was a bank robbery” Peter said.

“She could’ve been sore after or wanted to be with you. You just left-“ Ned was cut off when MJ stormed over to Peter pushing him a little as she sat down next to him.

“Peter parker, give me one reason why I shouldn’t beat your ass right now!” MJ looked pissed, Peter looking confused by her out burst.

“Calm down. What’s your problem?”

“You. Your my problem! Do you know how stupid you made y/n feel! You should’ve not left, you should be there with your girlfriend after you both had sex. After care is important, are you not educated enough?!” Now Peter realised that he fucked up, he didn’t know how you felt. Him leaving made you feel like it was just a one time thing. Or worse, that he regretted it.

“Oh fuck” Peter muttered angry. Not at you, himself. Then the bell rang, he sees you turning the corner to get to your class, he went to catch up with you, you were gone.

———————————

Peter messaged you after school asking if you could hang out. At first you wanted to lie and say you had plans, however you wanted to spend time with him. His house wasn’t that far away from yours, so the walk wasn’t too long. When you arrived at his house, He opened the door pulling you in for a big, long unexpected hug. Of course you hugged back, such a small gesture made you come back to reality of what happened that night, you pulled away. No words were exchanged at first, he pulled you through his house and into his bedroom. He gently pushed you onto his bed, making you fall down slowly.

“I’m not having sex again with you” You coldly say, Peter winced a little at the coldness. “No, no, no. Just stay here, I need to show you something” He told you, going over to his closet and pulling a bag out and something red and blue. “Close them pretty eyes” He smiled softly, you slowly close your eyes confused but listened.

You then felt the bed dip next to you, meaning Peter was sitting down beside you. You felt him place something on your lap, you waited till he told you to reopen your eyes. You was met with a red and blue outfit? No it wasn’t just any outfit, it was a red and blue suit. Spider-man suit. The new super hero that everyone has been going on about. You jump up, standing with the fabric still in your hands. You trace your thumb over the spider symbol. Now you piece it all together.

Peter is spider man.

Your boyfriend is Spider man.

Peter parker is Spiderman.

“Don’t freak out. If you wanna break up I understand. But I didn’t tell you because I wanted to protect you. If anyone knew you were my girlfriend they could come for you. And I love you so fucking much to let anything happen to you, pretty girl. It’s okay if you wanna break up” He sadly spoke, knowing what was coming.

However you didn’t break up with him, you didn’t shout at him, you didn’t even say anything. You practically tackled him into a big hug, both of you falling back into his bed. You wasn’t mad at all, maybe annoyed he didn’t tell you, but he did it for a good reason. You couldn’t believe that he was the Spider man. You couldn’t imagine what he could be going through with all of this going on.

“I’m not gonna break up with you silly” You finally say. “I’m not mad, this makes sense of why you cancelled some of our dates, or ditched me sometimes or even-“ your eyes widen. “Wait is that why you left me the other day when we-when we had sex?” You asked hoping it was the answer.

“Yeah” He tried not to look at you, he slowly sat up, you standing his lap, legs either side of his waist. “I’m so sorry, y/n. I didn’t realise, i’m so fucking stupid. I should’ve stayed and cuddled with you. I should’ve been their for you, I knew this was our first time and I messed it up. Please don’t feel stupid because of me. I loved every moment of what happened, I never regretted it. Fuck. I wanna do it again” He pushed a stand of hair behind your ear looking into your eyes.

“It’s okay. I was being silly really, just felt like you thought it was a one time thing.” You softly smile a small tear falling which he wiped away. “Your not silly, it’s my fault. I’m the stupid one, it’s not a one time thing I’m in this for the long run. I love you” He kissed your forehead.

“I love you more, spidey” You giggle as he pulls you in for a sweet kiss.

“Wanna cuddle and watch a movie? I have snacks in that bag” He smiles.

You look towards the bag then back to him in aws. “Can we just stay here for a little bit?” You ask just wanting to hug him in this position.

“Of course” He smiles as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, moving closer to his warmth.

Hope everyone has a nice christmas!

Sorry I didn’t post in a while, i’m on holiday right now.