#tasm!peter friends to lovers

[therealflickerman]

Split Lips (tasm!peter parker x reader)

Part four

series summary: Its simple hating peter parker, the cocky asshole who has made it his mission to one up you every chance he gets. In the same vein, its simple loving spiderman, the sweet masked vigilante who has made it his mission to ensure your safety. How simple will it be when the two worlds meet.

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chapter summary: You try your hardest to hide what you can from Peter though you can't help when secrets slip through your fingers.

word count: 6.5k (i cooked a little)

chapter contents: angst?, mention of death, mention of parental death, mention of cancer, reader is described to b shorter than Flash (6’1),  reader is intended to be fem! , language, reader is anxious and a mess, bullying kinda?

note: hi guys!!! This chapter is like INSANELY late but it's also the longest chapter by far so I hope I’ve made it up to you guys… This chapter gets only a little deep but I hope you enjoy how I've written the reader and her mum and I hope I've done the themes justice!!! 

masterlist

series masterlist

chapter one / chapter two / chapter three / chapter four (ongoing!)

“Maths, History, Bio” the words quietly slip past your lips as you count your textbooks carefully, ensuring each and everyone of them are there. Pressing your forehead against the cool of your locker, your eyes flutter shut and you draw a sharp breath, holding it in for a split second before finally releasing it alongside your jaw, clenched shut almost painfully. You pull away from the safety of the metal, words role over in your mind as you prepare for the day,

BAM

Your locker slams inches from your face. 

The loud bang of metal against metal rings through the busy hallway drawing the attention of a couple stray students, including yourself as you jump back softly, your hands clenching around your textbooks extra tightly as they threaten to slip through your fingers.

Your eyes flick to the perpetrator and you feel your jaw clench as nerves buzz in your fingertips. 

“What Flash,” 

It slips softly past your lips before you can stop yourself and anxiety turns in your gut as you wish you’d simply ignored him.

“I was wondering what you were doing tonight,”

His eyes watch you eagerly, like he’s hungry for the reaction you’ll inevitably give him. 

You swallow the anxiety that grows a lump in your throat and turn to head for the serenity of your History class. You have to remind yourself that he wants the reaction, he’s starving for it. 

He’s quick to follow you, sending a look to his friends that gather in a circle a little way across the hall. You hear the familiar sound of soft snickers and you feel your cheeks heat up. 

Trying your hardest to keep a poker face you press your lips into a tight line, you’d rather set yourself on fire than give Flash a reaction to laugh about with his stupid friends. 

“I know you’re probably super busy with all those friends you have, so I just wanted to check,”

His lips curl into a shit-eating grin, you fight an expression that threatens to grow on your face. You won’t give him the satisfaction, you entirely refuse. 

Keeping focused on the goal of your History classroom, you swerve through the other students that crowd the halls.

“C’mon,”

He just about corners you against the lockers as you walk shoulder to shoulder with them, dribbling his basketball he follows closely, the sound rings out obnoxiously much as his voice does. 

You can’t seem to find your voice, you keep your eyes ahead and continue on track, praying silently for him to leave you alone, the interaction turns our gut and you slip your lip between your teeth where it belongs. 

“C’mon, stop walking away from me,” 

His voice raises slightly, his hand coming out in front of you and you’re quick to stop in your tracks. His palm leans against the locker as he looks down at you through his eyelashes. He waits eagerly for a reaction, practically starved for it. 

You kiss your teeth with a clench of your jaw, as you try to slip from the barrier he’s created and a laugh bubbles from his chest as you hand feed him what he’s been waiting for. 

“Flash,”

A shot of relief floods your veins, it’s sweet, almost addictive, and your eyes seek the face to match that voice you know all too well. 

“Can’t you see we’re talking Parker,”

Flash shoots Peter a grin, not particularly concerned with convincing him of anything.

“Does she know that?”

Peter asks, his tone sardonic. 

Flash rolls his eyes, kissing his teeth as he turns to look at his surroundings. A frustrated sigh bubbles in his chest as he opens his mouth to say something before shutting it with a clench of his jaw, not bothered to start anything especially as so many teachers roam the halls, rushing students to their classes. 

He turns back to you, sending a wink as he slips away, quick to walk back to his friends that await him. It’s as if they crave the humiliation they give other people, it’s their life source and you feel gross just thinking about it. 

A soft groan slips past your lips, “thank you.”

He offers a shrug, a smile sat upon his lips as he watches you. His gaze is sweet, it's night and day compared to Flash’s hungry eyes. Your feet scuff against the vinyl as you slip next to him, far less eager to get to class this time around. 

“He will just not leave me alone you know? It’s kind of getting embarrassing on his part, like he does the same bit everyday. I don’t think he has a whole lot going on up there, not super creative.” 

You mumble softly, a grin slipping onto your face, Peter shakes his head with a laugh. 

“I’m pretty sure he’s got a little brain damage from all that sport so don’t take it to heart,”

He draws a giggle from your lips, “I don’t think I’ve ever taken anything he’s said to heart.”

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you as you make it to class. Words roll around on your tongue, you fight to push them out. 

“I was thinking maybe you’d wanna…  would you wanna study again tonight?” The words slip out. 

The two of you had spent many afternoons of the past week at the library, your noses between books, studying your hearts out before grabbing coffee, if you're honest it’s the most productive you’ve been in a long while. You hate to give him his praise but having someone as genius as Peter to bounce ideas off of has opened a whole new playing field and you’re not sure you can go back to ten minute mind blanks and groans of frustration. 

On the other hand you’ve never been more busy in your typically lacklustre life, you feel a bit like Spiderman yourself with all the running around you’ve found yourself managing. It was school, then work, or study, or both. Then home, just in the nick of time, all for Spiderman to swing you through the city before returning you to your bed at some ungodly hour. It was… nice, at least it was exciting, something vastly different compared to the eat, sleep, school repeat you’ve known for the past few years of your life. 

“Yeah of course, I was gonna ask anyway, so-”

“Maybe you could… um come to my place instead of the library?”

You spit out, cutting Peter off.

“My mums gonna be home, like, kinda early tonight so she’s um… making, like, a nice dinner and I thought you could join us?”

The words flow quickly and you’re unable to stop them as they spew from your lips, 

“I’d love to,”

He hums, a soft smile curling onto his lips

“I’m sure you would, ‘can put my address in your stalker journal,”

A scoffed laugh spits from his lips as his grin grows.

“How do you know I don’t already know where you live,”

“I’d be a little worried if you already knew where I lived,”

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Your foot taps rapidly against the concrete floor, a spit of anxiety turning in your stomach as your eyes dart around the city. ‘Please god do not show up,’ you watch with furrowed eyes for a flash of red and blue. 

“You waiting on someone?”

The voice rips you from your contraction and you jump slightly as you turn to find Peter and his stupid grin

“Only you,”

You swallow the lump in your throat and a smile plays across your face. 

“How was photography?”

Your eyes flick to his face, watching him as the two of you make the slow walk to the subway. 

“Good,” he hums with a smile, “I got an A+ on that assignment,” he shrugs his shoulders as if it were nothing, though you personally know he’d practically pulled his hair out with stress over it. 

“Look at you go, Mr Humble,” you nudge him softly, “bet you picked the photo I told you to go with,” 

You lend him a grin and he can’t help but roll his eyes.

“That is a possibility.”

“Hey, you’ll… you’ll tell me if Flash bothers you more?”

Peter mumbles softly, he swallows, feeling stupid as the question slips from his lips, though it spills anyway.

You watch his face, giving him a suspicious eye as a grin tugs at your lips. 

“You gonna do something about it?”

He rolls his eyes, his head shaking,“I might.” 

You hum suspiciously with a nod and it's followed by a giggle. 

“Hey you don’t know what I’m capable of,”.

“I know Flash is, like, a six foot one athletic scholar,” 

He leans his softly, “yeah but I have something he doesn’t,”

“What would that be Peter?”

“A brain.” 

You roll your eyes and push his face away with the palm of your hand. 

The sound of the city seeps into the subway carriage, it’s fairly empty and just about silent besides the racket of Peter’s voice as he talks of his next photography assignment, very passionately if you may add. He thinks it's stupid that they grade photography, he believes art is immeasurable, whether he’d simply rather an easier class or is genuinely passionate about the topic you can’t help the smile that tugs on your lips as he rambles. Either way it ‘isn’t like he has room to complain, the fact that it is in fact graded means he gets to be top of his class’, you roll your eyes as he tells you he’s only joking. 

You find yourself slowly drifting, your eyes keep on him as you mind wonders and a small smile finds itself on your lips.  

If it weren't for Peter you’d be sitting alone right now, packed into whatever carriage you had found. You’d listen to music loud enough to hurt your ears and you’d pick at your nails, or maybe you’d let your teeth at your lower lip. Your brain would mull over the day and you’d swallow the anxieties that pile themselves in your throat. 

“Am I boring you?”

Peter's face comes into focus, his smile is sweet as he watches you drift off.

“No! no no no… sorry,” you swallow with a blink, “sorry I got lost in thought,” you shake your head with an apology, “continue.”

A laugh bubbles in his chest and he shakes his head softly, “you’re good, I get um… I think I get a little too excited about photography sometimes.”

“Oh god no, I like hearing about your photography, trust me. It's refreshing to hear someone my age be so passionate about something,” Your tone couldn’t be more genuine.

“Really?” He smiles and you return it with a nod. 

He opens his mouth to speak and the subway's intercom system announces your stop, “I’m sorry I am. I promise I’m interested but this is our stop,”

You mumble with an apologetic expression as you stop him before he can speak. He giggles with a soft, “okay.” 

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Peter's voice reverberates through the quiet backstreets as you both walk side by side, heading back to your apartment. He talks of how he got into photography, how he enjoys being able to capture a moment in time, he views it as a sacred process. You watch his face light up as he speaks and you can’t help the bright grin curled onto your lips, unconsciously matching the smile on his face. You listen intensely as he speaks so passionately.

You’re grateful for the moment, there's no weird tension between the two of you, no bickering or teasing, you’re not on your toes trying to keep up with his stupid remarks. You’re simply indulged in his words, in a part of his mind that he’s sharing with you. 

Your grin grows. 

“What about you, what are you like… into?” he asks, his tone almost catches you off guard, it’s sickeningly sweet. 

You have to think for a moment, “um I don’t know… nothing I guess,” a shrug pulls at your shoulders.

“C’mon there's gotta be something.”

You think of the eat, sleep, school repeat cycle you’ve been living for the past however many years, each day full of so much nothing. Looking back you genuinely do wonder what you did to pass the time and nothing comes to mind.

The only things that happen in your life are Peter and Spiderman, and you can’t say, ‘actually you’re my hobby. And also Spiderman, don’t know if you’ve heard of him.’ 

“Hmm, nope, nothing, I study… I… I don't know, I work.” You shrug.

‘What about the posters on the wall, the music you’re always listening to, the movies you’re always watching at night,’ the words dangle on his tongue and he bites down, swallowing a lump in his throat.

“I don’t believe that,” he opts for this. 

“Believe it, you’ve befriended a bore,” 

He rolls his eyes, a chuckle slipping past his lips as he denies this. You’re being stubborn.

“Believe what you want, it's the truth.”  You shrug. 

He hums softly, his eyes keep on you and the remains of a smile stay evident on his lips.

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The familiar apartment building comes into view, he swallows softly, and can’t seem to pull his eyes from your face. He rolls over words in his mind, ‘you’ve never been in her room, you don’t know which apartment is hers, etc.’ He almost feels sick at the thought of slipping up.

“You’d think big hot shot Oscorp would pay well enough for an apartment complex but I guess one income slows us down.” 

You send your shoulder into the weighted door and lend an awkward smile as you hold the door for him, mumbling an apology about the climb to the fifth story.

“Your mum works at Oscorp?” he asks softly, there's something else to his tone and you can’t quite place it. You ultimately decide to blame it on the stairs, despite not being a quarter way to the top. 

“You got a problem with Oscorp?” you tease, looking to the step behind you as you watch Peter make the climb with ease.

“No, no, it’s just… I don’t know,” He curses himself as no answer comes to mind, god he’s already slipped up. His heart beats softly against his chest and he releases a breath as you hum, dropping it.

“Well she loves it, that's why she’s out so late almost every night, they’re working on this um, DNA thing… I don’t know, her boss is missing an arm, it's, like, something to do with that. You ask her about it at dinner, she’ll love you forever.”

His breath catches in his throat and it’s followed by a gross feeling that spins his gut, his teeth sinking into the flesh of his cheek as you mention doctor Curtis Connors.

He tries to not let it bother him, in fact he feels guilty that it does, it’s not as though you’re his problem. 

His mind flicks to the suit in his backpack, maybe he doesn’t have a choice in whether you’re his ‘problem’ or not anymore. 

“Geez Peter I didn’t know you worked out, you haven’t even broken a sweat.” You huff, conquering the last step. 

Yes, you may over exaggerate but five stories of stairs is enough to make anyone a little breathless. “I work out,” he scoffs with a small smile. You take one look up and down, eyes trailing across his tall lanky build. With a raise of an eyebrow,  you hum a soft “Mhm”. He rolls his eyes and it pulls a giggle from your lips. 

Your hands fumble around in your pocket and you pull out your house key, wiggling it around in the old lock before it finally opens with a heavy shove of the door. 

“Hey mum!” You call out softly, holding the door open for Peter. Your mother stands in the kitchen, she’s chopping vegetables and humming along to soft music as it plays from her own old record player, she’s got it on her fifteenth birthday and she adores the thing. 

“Hey love,” She hums, her eyes flicking up from the task at hand. 

“Oh and this must be Peter.” 

You send her a pressed smile, widening your eyes as if to say, ‘embarrass me and I will kill you,’ though she retaliates with a little wink and you groan. 

“I’ve heard so much about you Peter,” she continues to cut carrots. 

Peter sends you a smug grin. 

“You have?”

“Oh for sure, all good things… most good things,” she hums with a shrug and a smile. 

“I’m just glad she’s making friends-”

“Okay mum, we’re gonna go study,” You cut her off with a tight smile, she laughs with a shake of her head and a wave of her hand, “have fun!” 

“I’m sorry about her,” You huff with a smile, the tips of your ears burn and you feel yourself blushing. 

You lean your school bag against your bed and let him know he can put his stuff anywhere. 

Walking over to your desk, he leans his bag against the leg before settling comfortably into the seat.

Your brows furrow with a small smile, watching him as you take a seat against your bed. “You have a habit of making yourself comfortable,” you giggle with a shake of your head. 

“Oh I… sorry I, remember you saying you always study on your bed.” Nerve drips from his words as he sits up right. 

“No no, you’re good,” you smile with a shake of your head, “and you’re right,” you pull your things from your bag, setting stuff out the way you like it. 

He curses himself silently, ‘you’ve never been here before Peter,’ he reminds himself and his eyes scan your room, his sight falls on your posters,  the one he’d seen almost twice a night for the past week or so.

“Nice posters,” he hums.

Your eyes flick up as he speaks, the way he says it scratches a nerve in your brain, like it was familiar. 

You hum softly flipping open your Bio textbook, “thank you, it’s taken me ages to collect them all.”

Peter swallows dryly. 

“You said you didn’t have any hobbies,” his eyes keep on you. 

“Collecting posters isn’t… doing something though, like… writing or… taking photos,” you point to him with your pencil. 

“I guess…” He sits for a moment. “What about watching movies, I mean you’ve gotta love ‘em to have this many posters,” 

“Eh, I don’t think that counts”

“Oh c’mon that totally counts”

“Does it?” you shrug. 

“Whatever, we'll find you something.”

You look up to him with a smile, he gets his stuff out, placing it on your desk. 

“You know I am good at one thing…” You mumble, his head shoots up, “it’s called studying, and it’s going to help me get into a very nice university so that I can be good at things for money” 

You tease, drawing a humoured scoff from Peter. 

The two of you sit for a good while, faces buried in books, bouncing ideas and questions off of one another as you scribble messy notes. Stupid jokes and shared giggles pull the both of you from study, for minutes at a time you clutch your stomachs in laughter, textbooks forgotten until you find your way back on track. It leaves your stomach muscles beat, exhausted from curling in on itself as huffs of giggles slip from your lips. 

You now watch as he reads a particular section of his textbook, faced away from you with his eyes focused so desperately on the page, your teeth seek your lip, sinking into its flesh without mercy. A feeling settles deep in your gut, turning your stomach and all of sudden you feel ill, despite it you can’t seem to pull your eyes from the brown haired boy. It’s all too familiar but you refuse it, swallowing dryly before you can bring yourself to put a name to the feeling. 

Peter can feel you staring, he can feel the intensity of your gaze burning into his temple, a feeling he’s grown accustomed to. He’s not sure if it’s his ‘Spidey-Senses’ or because he just knows you but he can feel it. Maybe it's a mix of both with all the time he’s spent with you, with all the time you’ve spent on his mind. 

A smile tugs on his lips and he can’t seem to stifle it as it grows into a grin. 

Your eyes flick back down to your page, you practically wrangle them there. The lump in your throat is stubborn, no matter how much you swallow it sits there stubbornly and you try your best to ignore it. Now is not the time, your eyes flick up once again, especially as he sits in your desk chair, slumped over with his nose in his textbook, innocently in his own world and doing his school work just as you should be. 

The rapid knock of your door pulls you from thought, “dinners ready love,” your mum's voice calls out muffled through the wood. “M’kay,” you hum, loud enough for her to hear it, letting out a silent huff, a poor attempt at settling the unplaceable feeling in your stomach. 

A stiff silence settles over the three of you, broken by the sound of quiet chewing and cutlery scraping against your mothers ‘nice’ dinner plates. You’re all packed onto a small dining table, designed for just two people, your knee brushes against Peters and you meet his eyes with a silent apology. 

“So I um, heard you work at Oscorp,” He swallows, keeping his eyes on you before flicking them to your mother with a smile.

“Oh yeah? She told you about that huh,” your mother sends you a grin.

“I mean they’re doing insane work, really I shouldn’t even be talking about it, but it’s just so fascinating.” 

Peter nods along, you can’t help the smile that clings to your lips, unable to draw your eyes from him as he entertains your mother’s chattering.

“Its um… well lizards, right, they can regrow limbs, it's really quite fascinating, comes from years of evolution and adapting, I’ll spare the boring details,” she waves a dismissive hand, “we’re taking this aspect of their DNA and attempting to create a serum that can prompt human cells into preforming blastema-based regeneration. What that means is-”

“Mum Peter is like a grade A genius, don't worry,” you mumble, cutting her off. 

His lips curl into a smile, and he meets your eyes as you return the grin. 

“So you like science Peter?” Your mum asks. 

“Oh yeah, I um.. I love it,” He wears a lopsided smile, as he fumbles to answer the question. He watches you in the corner of his vision, checking to see if he’s said the right thing, and another grin slips onto your lips. You eye him as he stumbles over his words, looking for your approval and you lend a soft nod as your smile grows. 

“So that’s what you wanna do? Go into science I mean,” She asks, taking a fork full of food in her mouth. 

“Well I, um…”

“Peter’s actually a really talented photographer, so he’s still working things out.” You hum with a nod, sensing the nerves radiating off of him, he sends a grateful smile. 

“Oh yeah? My husband loved photography.”

You flinch a little at her words as she mentions your dad. It was true, he had spent a lot of his life taking photos, they were amazing too. He had never turned it into a career though, you had assumed it was because of some moral obligation he had to take care of you and your mum, he refused to even entertain the idea in fear of halving the household funds and leaving the both of you struggling, well look where you are now. 

Peter sends you a look, a quick flick of his eyes and you know what it represents. You opt to lend a small smile with nothing behind it, it’s a poor attempt at returning to any form of normalcy you could get your hands on and he returns it, submitting to this attempt. 

You make a note to talk to Peter about your dad later, it wasn't as though you had tried to hide any of… what had happened, it just never came up. Maybe deep down you liked it that way and maybe in a way you had tried to hide it, though you’re quick to swallow any guilt that threatens to build as you return to the normalcy that you and Peter had silently decided upon. 

Peter clears his throat with a hum. “Yeah, I just… love having the ability to capture a moment in time, I think it helps me get a grasp on reality. I would spend all my time taking photos if I could.”

Your mum hums with a smile and a soft nod, of course she liked that answer. She’s so insanely passionate sometimes that it scares you, up until two am most nights working on her research, not eating all day just to purely save time, you’re not sure how she’s still running. Seeing her daughter hanging out with someone at all, let alone someone so driven, is probably sending her insane with pure relief. 

“As long as you’re passionate about whatever you do,” Your mum nods, taking a sip of her wine glass. 

You smile with a shake of her head, she’s so predictable, it's sweet. You’re grateful for her, god, more than grateful for her, you’re not sure where on earth you’d be without her. 

“Oscorp isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, the field of science is very dangerous if you ever do go into it. The other day Peter-” she leans in with another sip of her wine, “there was this giant lizard monster god, I don’t know what he was but he injured about ten people, I’m sure you heard it on the news, that Spiderboy was there.”

“It’s Spiderman mum, and that isn’t because you work in science it's because you live in New York.” You correct her with a roll of your eyes, it was a conversation the two of you had had about five times since that night and if you heard about how ‘Spiderboy’ had made the whole situation worse one more time you’re sure you’d rip your hair out. 

“I don’t care what his name is, he totaled my car,” “The lizard did mum, not Spiderman, he’s just trying to help-”

Peter can’t stop the grin that curls at his lips as you unknowingly defend him. He watches as you toy with your food, giving up as your mother insists that Spiderman is doing more harm than good. 

“What do you think Peter, about this ‘Spiderman’ I mean,” Your mum hums, taking another bite of her food. His eyes flicker to you, and he hesitantly gives his opinion, “I think that he does good where he can…at least I think he intends to. I mean think about what could have happened if he wasn't there.”

You nod stubbornly with a fold of your arms, “Exactly.”

Your mum rolls her eyes with a small smile and a shrug as she washes down the food in her mouth with a sip from her glass, “I guess,” she mumbles hesitantly and you too roll your eyes with a giggle. 

Peter smiles, his eyes keeping on you. “What got you working at Oscorp,” He takes a sip of his water. 

“Well I always adored science, all through school. I graduated, y’know researched with a couple of small corporations near home. Then, after her dad died, I just decided lifes too short, I quickly applied to Oscorp, we moved here, and the rest is history.” 

There it is. 

An unease settles in your stomach and your focus turns to the food chewing in your mouth, it doesn’t really bother you, at least that's what you tell yourself. It was obvious your dad wasn’t around anymore, for one reason or another, but it felt too vulnerable for him to know that he was actually dead. The thought rolls around in your head and you swallow it with your dinner. You had planned to tell Peter, though it isn’t like you need to, you don't owe it to him. Still, you feel something build in your stomach as you realise that maybe you had actively avoided it in conversation, maybe even lied during the process and you quickly realise you’re filled with some sick mix of embarrassment and guilt.

You feel Peter glancing at you, his gaze is soft and his eyes flick between you and your mother as she continues to talk and he continues to nod along. You meet his eyes, deciding that facing whatever you’re feeling is far less embarrassing than closing up like you’re used to. You can’t place the emotions behind his eyes but nevertheless he offers a smile, it’s void of pity and you realise that deep down that was what you feared most from his reaction. You return the smile, it’s grateful though you don’t particularly mean for it to be, and the two of you once again silently agree to bask in normality until dinner is over. 

______________________________________________________________

The both of you sit on your bed in silence, it's comfortable but there’s an all too familiar feeling of anxiety settled in your stomach. Your mind rolls over words, they hang on the tip of your tongue as you wrack your brain on how to start the conversation. 

“When I was six my parents went on a work trip and never came back,” Peter lets out, taking the blow for you. His eyes find you, you’re focused on the tips of your fingers as they fiddle with one another. He hears your breathing hitch, your heartbeat speed up, he watches as you try to find the words. 

“Pet-”

“My Aunt May and Uncle Ben took me in, and then…. a couple of months ago Ben was killed in a robbery,” 

You shut your mouth tightly, your teeth sinking into the flesh of your cheeks as you fight to find the words and suddenly you don’t feel so angry at each relative that told you ‘they were sorry’ and ‘they were here for you,’ because… what do you say?

You swallow, your teeth unlatching around your cheek, and open your mouth to speak once again, 

“I just mean… you don’t have to feel weird or… I don’t know, ashamed about it… okay? Not with me.” 

His voice is soft, his eyes watch you so intensely, it’s like he’s looking at you for the first time, like really looking at you. Noticing each wrinkle in your expression, each imperfection that litters your skin, although this time it’s with his own two eyes, not shrouded by the mask he was once so grateful for.

“He died when I was fifteen…it was um, cancer,” you nod softly, keeping your eyes down, you’re not too sure why but it feels better, easier to talk, like you can breathe. 

“We packed up, like, straight away and mum immediately started working for Dr Connors. She thinks that she can like, find a cure or… I don’t know…” You curse yourself for rambling about it as you realise this wasn’t one of the venting circles in one of the libraries your mum had signed you up to. 

You swallow, biting the bullet and looking up to meet Peter's eyes. You’re not entirely sure what you had expected but when you finally meet them you don’t find the look of condolence that you’ve grown so accustomed to. You find a pure mix of kindness and worry and it spins your gut, this time with gratitude. 

You lend him a smile, it’s grateful, and understanding, it tells him what you don’t trust your words to and he returns it sweetly. 

“Even in dead relatives I’m ahead of you,” he elbows your arm and it's noticeably more gentle than usual.

A laugh bubbles in your chest and you shake your head with an eye roll. 

“Oh my god,” you hum and it draws a giggle from his lips. 

“You’re close with your aunt?” You ask gently as the laughter dies down between the two of you, you’ve found peace within his eye sight as you keep steady eye contact with him for maybe the first time since you've known him. 

He hums with a nod of his head and a smile curls onto his lips. It’s sweet. 

“You’re close with your mum?” He asks, his tone is almost cautious, though he doesn’t mean it to be. He had spent a whole hour at your dinner table and still couldn’t grasp the dynamic between the two of you. 

You hum a soft laugh with a nod of your head, “yeah, we are. It’s… complicated, my dad’s death fucked with her super bad but she’s still my best friend, kind of my only friend.”

He smiles, a sound of understanding slips from his lips. 

“Were you um… close with your dad?” He prays he hasn’t overstepped a line, his teeth catch on his lips as the words slip from them and he feels oddly close to you as he sinks teeth into flesh. 

You smile, looking down at your hands, “yeah… super close,” it’s all you say though he takes it with gratitude. 

“What about you, were you close with your parents, with your Uncle?” You look back up at him and meet his eyes, they never seem to leave you, it’s something you’d noticed. 

He nods, a smile slipping onto lips much like you had done. “My parents died when I was pretty young so, yes… but also no.” You nod along, watching him closely. “But I was super close with Ben.” You feel like maybe you opened something you shouldn't have as you remember that it hasn’t been long since his passing. You watch the creasing in Peter's expression and you quickly feel guilt fill your stomach as your own brows furrow. 

“I’m sorry Peter I shouldn’t-”

“No, god no I asked first- no, don’t do that,” His soothes quietly, shutting down your guilt. 

You nod softly as he continues.

“He was like a dad to me so… yeah.”

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you, the air filled with a feeling of understanding and the both of you settle into it. 

“I should um, maybe get going,” He mumbles, it’s a cop out, the both of you know it, the both of you have become accustomed to it. 

“You can stay Peter,” 

His almost frantic movements stop, his eyes find yours, he wouldn't go as far as to say they’re begging but they’re big and asking him to stay in the warmth of your room and who is he to say no to you. 

“We can watch a movie… or-”

“I would really like that.”

______________________________________________________________

Your eyes glance over to him, his face lit up by the screen of your laptop. The two of you sit comfortably in your bed, backs propped up against the wall, an awkwardly large space between the two of you, you’re overly conscious of it as you try your hardest to keep your eyes on the screen and your limbs to yourself. In your uncomfort your eyes flick to your watch, checking the time and your stomach turns with anxiety as a thought pops into your head. You frantically flick your eyes to the window, trying your hardest to keep your ‘cool’ exterior in front of Peter though you’re now busy attempting to prepare for the inevitable. There hasn’t been a night in the past week where Spiderman hasn’t shown up at your window cill, absolutely bursting to tell you about his night. Many nights he’d sit in the very chair Peter had, chatting your ear off for hours until you had to shoo him from your room to save at least four hours of sleep before you had to get up for school. You swallow your nerves, taking a deep breath, soft enough for Peter to miss it, at least you hope he misses it, and you try to make up some sort of plan.

Peter was… cool about it, he appreciated what Spiderman did. He actually never really spoke about him, in fact he was a little weird about him, though you’re not complaining, if Peter tried to subtly shut down most conversations about him, it meant you didn’t need to subtly avoid most conversations about him. 

You’re only now realising it seemed like a sensitive topic and you pray to god Spidey didn’t have some unfortunate involvement with his uncle's death, that would make it a little awkward if, or when, he shows up at your window. 

You swallow, bringing your eyes back to the movie, you’re choosing to push all rational thoughts out of your mind as you do so, you’re going to sit here and focus on the film and not focus on how you wouldn’t be able to hand another of your secrets getting spilt, not that you had any others to spill after Spidey. 

Peter's eyes watch you in his peripheral vision, watching as your vision linger on the window cill. 

“Shit,” the word slips from his lips before he can stop it and it instantly catches your attention.

“What's up?” You ask, sitting up gently. 

Fuck, he curses himself silently though he quickly realises he’s given himself the perfect out. “I just realised that May said she wanted me home half an hour ago, I’m so sorry, I-” he jumps from your bed. 

“You’re fine, really. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Your voice comes out far more enthusiastic than you had hoped for and you cringe as the words leave your lips. 

Peter nods with a sheepish smile, backpack in hand as he stands at your bedroom door, “thank you for having me,” he mumbles. His words are genuine and the feeling in your gut that you entirely refuse to recognise is back, nagging at your heart. 

“No problem,” you hum softly, returning the sheepish smile. 

He’s gone in a flash, with a slam of your door, a little harder than he had anticipated, and a soft ‘sorry!’ from the other side of the wood. You let out a breath of relief, your teeth sinking into your lip as you do so. Your mind plays over the day as you slip your laptop into your school bag and lay on your bed. You’re grateful Peter knows about your dad, at least you think you are. It makes you feel vulnerable, he can take one look at the life you lead and understand why you are, where you are, now that he has the missing piece of the puzzle. You guess it goes both ways, though he seems so put together and you quickly become jealous over how well he’s able to hide his grief, then again you know it isn’t something to wish for and you swallow as you remind yourself that there are so many parts of him that you don't see.

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[starsval]

honest

tasm!peter parker x f!reader

Summary: being best friends and maybe in love with Peter Parker is nice, until certain spider changes everything

Word couny: 10k

Warnings: mentions of wounds, kissing, hickeys, and I think that's all

A/N: it's based on Honest by The Neighbourhood, It's nice to have a friend, King of my heart and Sweet nothing by Taylor Swift.

Also, thanks to @myriadmoons for helping me write this <33

Patience, test my patience

If I made it too hard for you, maybe

“What happened?” You ask Peter, approaching him in the hallway. Immediately noticing the bruise on his face, even though he tried to hide it with the hoodie.

“I fell” He tells you, walking to your first class, which, to his displeasure, you had together.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” You ask him as he works as your shield among all the students going to their classes.

“Sometimes” He laughs, trying to change the subject as you both sit in your place.

“Pete, I’m serious. Is it Flash again? I wouldn’t care to threaten him again”

“That only worked because he has a crush on you” He smiles, resting his head on his arms while looking at you.

“Yeah, but it worked, so I take it as a win” He laughs softly, trying to ignore the concerned look you were giving him. “What happened?”

“I fell” He knows by the look in your eyes that you don’t believe him, but he ignores it, just like he ignores your sad expression as you turn your head to the teacher.

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

“Are you okay?” You ask him, opening your bedroom door so he can get inside. You notice the new bruises, of course you do, you always notice. 

But you also notice the look in his eyes, telling you to not say anything about it, telling you to just hold him now.

So you do, you hug him. You let him hug you so tight that you’re afraid he might break you.

“I’m better now” He mutters, his voice muffled by your hair.

“I’m glad”

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

You should have changed it

Say it, you should say it

“You don’t even have to tell me” You had told Peter, sitting on the stairs of your porch. “I mean, it’s obvious that I’m not buying the ‘I fell’ bullshit. So just let me help you”

“It’s okay, someone’s- I’m already getting help” And it’s not you. He had told you, getting up and walking away after waving goodbye.

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

“You’re ignoring me” You tell Peter, sitting on his bed with your homework on your lap.

“I’m literally doing homework right now” He says, slightly offended.

“Not right now, I mean lately” He hesitates before talking.

“I’ve been busy, I’m sorry” He finally looks up from his homework, looking at you.

“It’s okay, you know I don’t care about that, just, don’t be a stranger”

“I won’t” He assures you. “Talking about that, I didn’t tell you but I’m friends with Gwen” Then he puts his homework away, because, of course, when it’s about her he has to focus completely. “We started talking the other day and she’s really nice… "

So you just sit there, listening to him, because that’s the most he’s talked to you in days. And because you’re a good friend who’ll listen to anything even though it hurts. Because you don’t want to lose him.

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

Waiting, always waiting

You wait. Even though you shouldn’t. You wait for him, for a text, for a call, for a response, anything. You wait for him to fulfil his promise, that he’d be here to do the work with you. The most important work of the year.

You wait for him to answer all your texts, all your calls. You keep waiting as you do the work, as you start it, as you look up information, as you finish it, as you revise it.

You stop waiting for him to start waiting for an excuse when he opens the door. With new cuts and bruises that had already been taken care of.

“Sorry for being late, I lost track of time” He puts his backpack in the usual place and sits on your bed, behind you. “We can start now”

You turn around in the chair, not waiting anymore since you already got your excuse. You watch the hour on your phone before talking.

“At 11pm?” You ask him, looking at his new bruises, sighing and wishing he told you more about it.

“I know, I’m sorry, it’s just…” He doesn’t continue, because he doesn’t have anything to say.

“I already did it” You inform him, getting up and laying on your bed as you turn on the TV.

“What? But, we were supposed to do it together” He says, offended as he gets up, to discover that, in fact, you already did it.

“It’s due tomorrow” You don’t look at him, instead, you look at the news, talking about the decrease of crime.

“You could’ve waited for me” You look at him now, foolishly hurt by his words. Because that’s all you’ve done lately. Wait for him. “I know I didn’t answer.” ‘I’m sorry’ He doesn’t add. “But it’s like half of the grade” ‘It’s not fair that you had to do it alone’ He forgets to add, again.

“Fuck you Peter” You tell him, eyes again on the TV, refusing to look at him and at his audacity.

“Look, I know that you’re mad, but I was with Gwen, and I lost track of time, and…” He stops talking, either because he realises he mentioned Gwen or because he realises that you don’t care.

“See you tomorrow” You don’t look at him when he mutters a soft ‘good night’. You do look at him when he turns around, picks his backpack and leaves, closing the door behind him.

You don’t go to sleep immediately, even though you should. You add yours and Peter’s names to the work before putting it on your backpack. Then you continue watching the news. Weirdly entertained by the people talking about Spiderman as he swings between buildings. 

You watch his back, just as you watched Peter’s. A back that you know too much, a back that you've scratched, a back that you watched leave earlier. And then it all makes sense, well, you still don’t know why he’s ignoring you. But you know the reason behind the bruises, the cuts, the tiredness in his eyes.

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

I wish you could be honest

I wish you could be honest with me

You watch as the teacher corrects the works. Peter watches you. You both watch the teacher walking to your desks. The teacher watches both of you as he talks.

“It’s really good, I still have to correct some things but it’s the better one of the class” He says before walking away, with your work still in his hands.

“You added my name?” Peter asks you, looking at you as you watch the clock, waiting for the class to be over.

“Yes” You answer, now looking at him.

“I didn’t deserve it” He says ‘I didn’t do anything and then made you feel bad about it’ He doesn’t say.

“I know” You keep looking at him, ignoring the shred of hurt in his eyes, and focusing on the exhaustion in them. “Peter, are you honest with me?”

He doesn’t expect the question, but he doesn’t doubt when answering “Of course”

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

Why'd you stick around?

Why'd you stay with me?

Why'd you fake it?

You always did this. It was your tradition. But things have changed lately, so you shouldn't be surprised when he doesn't show up. 

You look at the news, waiting to see someone informing you about what Spiderman's doing right now, maybe saving the city again. But nothing. He seems to be sleeping, or ignoring his best friend.

So you give up, put your phone in silence and walk in the cinema. Doing your monthly tradition alone, for the first time. 

When you walk out you don't expect to see him there. Looking weirdly anxious. But you don't acknowledge him, you just continue walking. 

"I'm sorry" He says as he follows you, standing in front of you when he realises you're not going to stop. You don’t say anything, you just look at him, not even bothering to hide the fact that you’re hurt. Hurt by him, by his actions, by his secrets. “I’m really sorry, I was really occupied and I couldn’t make it and…”

“I can’t keep doing this” You try to walk around him to the door so you can walk to your house. But he stands in front of you again.

“I know, and I’m sorry, it won’t happen again, I promise” And you want to believe him, you really want to, but you can't let yourself get hurt again.

“You could’ve told me” Just like you can tell me that you’re Spiderman. But you don’t say that, because you want him to trust you, although you don’t know why he doesn’t.

“I- my phone-” He stops, because lying isn’t going to get him anywhere. “I forgot”

You smile, even though all you want to do is cry. He forgot his best friend. And why? Before you can ask him, the answer appears behind you.

“Where were you? Oh, hi Y/n” You turn around, to see Gwen smiling at you. You return her the smile and a wave before turning back to Peter.

“Fuck off Peter, and make sure you don’t forget to talk to her” You mutter as you finally walk around him, reaching the door and start the journey to your house.

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

As you walk on the pavement, you notice someone approaching you. You wave at him when you notice who he is. Harry, Peter’s friend. He introduced you two a while ago, and to his surprise, you actually got along.

“Hi” He greets you.

“Hi, I didn’t know you were in town?” You ask him.

“Yeah, I arrived a few days ago. Actually, I was going to Peter’s house, do you want to come?” He asks you, oblivious to the whole situation.

“I was just going to my house, but it was nice to see you again” You tell him, resuming the walk to your house when he starts talking next to you. “You don’t have to.” He cuts you off before you can finish.

“Did something happen? The last time I was here Peter told me that he wouldn’t let you walk home alone, because it’s dangerous, you know?” You sigh, because it’s true, he never did that, until today.

“It’s complicated I guess, but you don’t really have to walk me home, it’s just a ten minutes walk from here”

“It’s okay, I’d like to catch up with you” You give up trying to get him to actually go where he was supposed to and start talking about both of your lifes. “Does Flash still have a crush on you? I don’t think Peter got over the fact that he asked you out”

You laugh, remembering that day. When you’d suggested that maybe he was just jealous, he said that it was because he wanted his best friend to date someone better than Flash.

“He still does, but he hasn’t tried to ask me out again” You stand in front of your porch, turning around to face him. . “Thanks for walking me home, Harry” You smile at him, really thankful that you hadn’t spent the whole walk thinking about Peter.

“It’s okay, I always like talking to you. And about the Peter thing, I’m sure you’ll work it out”

You let out a soft ‘I know’ before saying goodbye to him and walking in your house. 

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

Harry doesn’t bring up the matter when he shows up at Peter’s door. Neither when they both start playing video games. Or when Peter starts talking about Gwen. He talks about it when he says that he went to the mall with Gwen.

“That’s why Y/n was going home alone?” He notices how Peter tenses up immediately.

“What?” Peter asks, like he has no idea what he’s talking about.

“I saw her, and I walked her home, she seemed upset” Peter doesn’t say anything, feeling too bad, knowing that he’s the reason why. “I even asked her if Flash still had a crush on her, maybe the next time I shouldn’t be that discreet”

“What?” Peter turns around, the video game long forgotten as the boys talk.

“Maybe I should ask her on a date while I’m here, the worst she can say is no” Harry keeps talking, and maybe he’s being for real, maybe he just wants Peter to react. But all Peter knows is that he’s getting mad, and he doesn’t know why.

“You shouldn’t” He says dryly. 

“Why? Is she seeing someone?” Harry asks, getting up to pick up his things.

“No” Peter answers, his jaw tightened as he watches his friend move around the room.

“Then? What’s the problem?” Harry stops for a second, looking at him.

“I don’t want you to date her” Then he moves again, giving Peter his back as he closes his backpack, hiding his smile.

“I thought you were with Gwen?” Peter frowns at that.

“What? No, it’s all platonic” He swears. 

“She must be a good friend then. You left Y/n to go with her” Harry can see Peter's face go through all emotions before talking back. 

“It’s not like that” He frowns, again, like it's the most obvious thing. 

“I don’t know the whole story Peter, but I do know that she was walking home alone –something that you swore you’d never do– and she seemed hurt” After that Harry leaves. Leaving a confused Peter considering all the choices he's made, while looking at the pictures you two have together. 

Pictures he took of you when you gave him his new camera for his birthday. Pictures Aunt May insisted on taking one of the first times you went to the cinema together. Pictures you took of him when he was distracted. Pictures he took of you while you were sleeping, because he thought you looked cute, even though you got embarrassed after. Pictures he took of you while falling(and on the floor), after you had assured him that you knew how to skate. 

He remembers that after the last one, you almost made him fall again, he also remembers that your actual words were 'Pete what the fuck??, why didn't you help me?' Like he could’ve done anything to help you

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

I hope you find a way

To be yourself someday

You were doing all you could to avoid Peter. You didn’t know if he was trying to talk to you. But you didn’t care. Maybe he wasn’t trying to find you. It's not like it's something new. But you couldn't known

You couldn't avoid each other in the next class, since you guys sat together(for the next two hours). 

“Do you like Harry?” He asks you, neither of you had anything to do, while the others finished their homework, you do all you can to not look at him.

“What?” You fail, meeting his gaze as you talk.

“I think he likes you” He adds.

“Okay” You say, dryly. 

“Do you like him?” You can’t believe him, it’s the same shit he did with Flash.

“Just leave me alone” You try to ignore his intense gaze.

“I don’t think you should date him” You stop ignoring his eyes now, looking at him and trying to find where his audacity comes from.

“That’s not your problem” You remind him.

He looks at you, because it’s really not. Even if you were still best friends, it wouldn’t be. But then you’d say something like ‘are you jealous?’.

“I know, I know, but he’s-” You cut him off, tired of his shit.

“I don’t care, Peter, why would I?. If I like him or if I don’t, it’s not your problem, so just leave me alone” 

He seems hurt, he really does. But you stop looking at him, because maybe if you don’t see him, you won’t notice. And maybe if he doesn’t look at you, he won’t notice your hurt. Or maybe he does and he just doesn't care. 

You stay like that the rest of the hour, fighting the urge to not turn your head to him, even when you can notice him looking at you. You fight the urge to not ask him for explanations, to ask him to come back to you. 

As soon as the teacher says that you have a free hour, you walk out of the class as soon as you can. 

You walk to the bleachers, waiting for the hour to be over so you can just go home. You’re looking at the sky when Peter approaches you, your immediate response is to get up, to try and run away.

“Please- just…” He stays there, standing in a row in front of you. You sit down again, looking at him.

He doesn’t say anything. He just looks at you, feeling like he hasn't seen you in forever. He doesn’t talk, you don’t talk. Until you get impatient and try to get up before he talks. 

"You don't call me Pete anymore, you know?. You just say Peter, and half of the time is to insult me" You don't know how to react, you don't know what to do with the hurt in his voice. So you just talk, before thinking. 

“Are you Spiderman?” You see him trying to say something, trying to lie. But you both know it wouldn’t work. So he doesn’t say anything. He looks at you, frowning.

You laugh.

“You didn’t even try to deny it” You look at him, questioning him, questioning his friendship with you, his friendship with Gwen.

“How long have you known?” He frowns, looking sad.

“Long enough for me to say that you’re not honest” You fight the urge to walk away.

He doesn’t say anything. You know that he’s mad.

You don’t say anything. He knows that you’re mad.

“You shouldn’t know” He finally speaks, looking at you, clenching his jaw. 

“I know” Because you do. You know that he’s been trying so hard to hide it from you that you almost lose your friendship, or maybe you already lost it.

“It’s dangerous” He adds

“That’s all you’re gonna say?” You ask him. You both know what you want to hear. I’m sorry for not telling you. I’m sorry for ignoring you. I’m sorry for getting you worried. I’m sorry for almost ruining our friendship.

“What else am I supposed to say?” He doesn’t meet your eyes. Not when you get up. Not when you throw the sweatshirt he’d lent you at him. Not when he barely catches it before it touches the floor. Not when you start to walk away.

“Way to go Parker” You mumble, walking down the stairs.

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

Hesitation, is killing me too

But I couldn't save it

I couldn't save it

"I didn't want her to get involved, it's dangerous, and I-" Peter is sitting in Gween’s bed, his Spiderman suit under his clothes, ready for the night guard. A week after his last conversation with you. 

"So you're just going to lose your friendship because of that?” Gween asks, her eyes going back and forth between Peter and her homework.

“I don’t want to lose her. I thought that if I wasn’t around her that much she wouldn't discover it” He admits, his eyes looking down at the mask in his hands.

“Do you think she’s stupid?” Gwen asks, knowing for a fact, that you aren’t stupid.

“That’s the thing. She’s too smart, and she found out even when I ignored her” He sighs, laying in the bed. “I don’t know what to do now. I can’t just go to her and apologise, can I?”

“You could try, but it better be the apologise of the century” She tells him, focused again on the papers before her.

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

Peter keeps thinking about that as he climbs out Gwen's window. While he's swinging between buildings. As he fights for his life. 

But, curiously, he doesn't think about it when he goes to your house, when he knocks on the window. He just does it, like you're a magnet who's attracting him, leaving him no choice but to get close to you. He does it as a reflex action. Like he knows that you'll always be there for him. 

And sadly, you will. 

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

Is this the end of all the endings?

Peter used to go to your house when he couldn’t sleep, he just knocked on the window, waiting for you to get up and let him in. But you didn’t expect him to do it right now. Especially no in his Spiderman suit.

“What the fuck happened to you?” You ask him, not even bothering to close the window. Knowing that he’d close it for you. Like always.

He sits on your desk chair as you look for your first aid kit, the one that you’d bought when Peter started to skate.

"I'm hurt" He talks, slowly moving the chair close to the bed, where you're waiting with all the supplies. 

"Yeah no shit" You roll your eyes, carefully cleaning his wounds.

"I'm sorry" He suddenly says, after watching you in silence, admiring you as you healed him. 

You admire him too, his hands as he holds tight to the chair, his chest as he breathes in, as he breathes out. His face as you clean the blood out of it. The look in his eyes as you keep your hands on his face longer than necessary. 

"What are you doing here?" Your eyes go from his wounded chest to his eyes. 

"I missed you" You stop for a bit when he says that, and you're sure he notices, but you quickly bandage the wound and get up to get him some clothes. 

"It's not fair, it's not fucking fair that after everything you're just here. Telling me that you missed me. It's not fair Peter" You swear you can see something change in his eyes as he hears the name. "And I'm here, acting like nothing happened, like it's the fucking same, like my best fri-" You don't finish the word. "Like you aren't Spiderman. It's not fucking fair" 

You finally tell him, looking through your closet, like the fact that you're far from him will help you ignore the attraction you're feeling.

And then it hits you, you've felt like this for a while. You've been attracted to him for a while. And with everything that had happened, you couldn't stop and think about it.

Because maybe the fact that you lost your best friend hurts more than the fact that you're in love with him. Just maybe. 

"I know" He says as he gets up, walking to the bathroom to put on the clothes that you just gave him. He leaves a confused you cleaning your room, feeling your heart shrink a bit when you see all of the tissues covered in blood. 

After going to the kitchen to throw everything that you had used, you come back to Peter sitting in your bed. Looking at his hands, only looking away when you sit next to him.

“I’m sorry” He admits, almost in a whisper. 

“Stop saying that you’re sorry” You ask him. 

“But I really am” He whispers, again

“You should’ve thought of it before you… before everything” You look down, and then at him. 

“I know, but it’s not my fault that I’m Spiderman and I’m really sorry” You look away, slightly hurt by the fact that he thinks you would blame him for that.

“What are you even sorry for?”

“I’m sorry for lying to you, for ignoring you, for making you feel bad, for ruining our friendship” He says the last words like they hurt. “I’m sorry for everything, honestly. For talking the way I did about the Harry thing. For not apologising sooner. For ignoring you because of Gwen, who’s just my friend, by the way. I’m sorry” You don’t look at him, because if you do, you know you’ll do something stupid, like hugging him, or telling him that everything’s fine.

“I think you should go, maybe May is waiting for you” You get up, feeling his gaze on you as you continue to pack your suitcase.

“Why are you saying that after I apologised?” You let out a small laugh, looking through your t-shirts. 

“Do you think an apology solves everything?” You hear him sigh, passing a hand through his hair.

“I- What? No, I thought you’d be more understanding” You stop for a bit, breathing in and breathing out, trying to not get mad at him.

“What?” You turn around slowly.

“You always say that people deserve second chances” He says, afraid of what your reaction will be.

“And how many chances have I given you Peter, I could’ve fucking left you as soon as you started ignoring me. But no, you hug me and everything's okay, I’m your best friend again and we’re fine. Just for you to go and ignore me, again!. What the fuck do you want me to do? Have zero self respect and go back to you just because ‘you’re sorry’?. And don’t even talk about second chances, because you’d had so many fucking chances, and all you do is fuck it up!.” You throw a t-shirt into the suitcase. “If you want me to just forget everything just because you apologised, it better be the bigger apologise anyone has seen, because I’m so fucking tired of everything“ Now you throw a hoodie. “All I ever wanted was for you to be honest, but you couldn’t even do that, so I just, I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Where are you going?” He says, like he just noticed that you're packing your things. Catching a t-shirt before it can land into the suitcase.

“Are you telling me that that’s the part you chose to care about?” You ask him, snatching the t-shirt from his hands and throwing it in the suitcase again. Just for him to catch it.

“Yeah, where are you going?” He raises his arm above his head when you try to steal the fabric from his hands.

"You're fucking unbelievable Peter, I'm going to my aunts" You finally catch your T-shirt and put it on the suitcase. 

"What? You won't be happy there?" He replies. 

“And who says I'm happy here?” You don't look at him as you pick up another T-shirt from your closet. When you turn around, Peter’s emptying your suitcase. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Don’t be immature, just stay here, there’s no need to go there” He pushes your hands when you try to stop him.

“Oh, so I’m being the immature one? Sorry, Mr. I didn’t want my best friend to find out that I’m Spiderman so I just stopped talking to her” You put the clothes that he’s putting on the floor into the suitcase, just as he does the opposite in front of you.

“Oh, I have to get Harry to walk me home because I can’t do it alone” He replies, determined to unpack your suitcase.

“Oh, I can’t even text my best friend to tell her that I ditched her because I was with other girl”

“I already told you we’re just friends. Are you jealous?” He looks at you for a moment, making you take advantage of him and quickly fill up your suitcase.

“You wish I was jealous” You give up, and just watch as Peter empties your suitcase. “Stop being immature and go home”

“Maybe I do wish that you'd be jealous” He drawls, looking down at his work(your clothes on the floor).

“Just go home” You say again, getting up and walking to your closet. He quickly gets up again, and you think is to leave, but he’s next to you immediately.

“I didn’t want you to worry, or be in danger. So it was better to just stop talking to you, because I didn’t have to see your face when you saw the bruises. And I just couldn’t stand the fact that if you knew, you’d be in danger. And I know I fucked up, I’m sorry, I regret it everyday, I just want us to be okay” He admits, looking down at you.

“Are you fucking stupid?” You look at him, confused. “You didn’t want me to worry? So you just ignored me? You’re the dumbest person I’ve ever known. What if something happened to you? What if you fucking died? I’ll be here not knowing that it was because you’re fucking Spiderman –I mean, I would’ve figured it out, but still–. And the ‘being in danger’ shit, I have no fucking words, you think I care about that? You’re so fucking stupid Peter” You turn around and pick your clothes from the floor as you mutter ‘so fucking stupid’.

“You still care about me?” He asks, looking at you, impatiently waiting for your answer.

“You’re actually dumb…” You consider. “Of course I do” His eyes light up.

“Does that mean you forgive me?” He gets closer to you.

“No, I’m still waiting for the biggest apology anyone has ever seen” You start to pack your clothes again.

“You’re still going?” He frowns.

“Yes, I’m leaving tomorrow, so, goodbye Peter” You finish packing and you stay there, looking through the window, where Peter was just minutes ago. 

And you know that he is really sorry, but you couldn't give it to him that easily. You'll forgive him as soon as you see the biggest apology you've ever seen.

Because you miss him, you miss your best friend, the guy you've been pining over for a year, the guy who used to walk you home everyday. You miss the insignificant fights you'd have about the homework, about the movie you'll see. You miss Peter Parker. 

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

You think about last night as you watch through the window of the taxi, about how close your bodies were for a moment, about everything he said, about the jealous thing. About the fact that you’re still waiting for his apology.

That’s when you see it, the biggest apology you’ve ever seen. Just in front of you everyone, but just for you. After you tell the driver to stop the car you get out of it as soon as possible, looking at the “I’m sorry” made of webs.

Just when you start to look around, Peter grabs you, and you honestly don’t know how but you end up above the words. Looking at him, and hugging him, because, it’s so fucking scary.

“I’m sorry” He says, after taking out his mask. Looking at you with soft eyes.

“I can tell” You say, looking at his eyes, just so you don’t look down, and because you missed his eyes. 

“Is that the biggest apology you’ve ever seen?” He asks, suddenly nervous.

“Yes it is” You talk as you look around you, observing the city. “You’re fucking Spiderman, that’s unbelievable, like, out of all the people, you, that’s so fucking crazy” When you look back at him, he looks like he isn’t breathing. “Yes, Pete, I forgive you, I thought about last night and it was kinda funny, you know? The whole suitcase situation. I missed that, I missed you”

Once the words leave your mouth he smiles like he just won a contest and hugs you. He hugs you like he hasn’t done in a while, and you hug him back, happy to have your best friend back.

“Yeah, I get it, but, um, could we get down? Love the views, but it’s scary” You say, smiling. 

“Shit, yes sure” He seems to remember where you two are and puts the mask on before taking you to the taxi.

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

My broken bones are mending

With all these nights we're spending

"I'm sorry" Peter says as he sits on your bed. 

"Don't apologise" You tell him, cleaning the wounds on his neck. 

"I'll buy you another first aid kit" You smile, patching up his face. 

"Well, I hope I won't need it" He chuckles a bit, knowing that you probably will have to. 

"Thank you" 

"I'm your best friend Peter, and I have morals, if Spider-man was on my window dying I'll help him" 

"What if it's a fake Spider-man?" He grins through the pain. 

"You think I won't recognise you?" You ask, indicating him to roll down the top of his suit so you can look at the wounds. "Does it hurt?" You look at the bruises on his side.

"I'm better now" He slowly gets up and grabs the clothes you let out for him. 

"I'm glad" You smile, cleaning and throwing everything you've used. 

When he comes out of the bathroom, already in normal clothes, you're in bed, scrolling down your phone. 

"I should leave" He says as he picks up his backpack. 

"Stay here Peter" You talk, patting the space you left him next to you. 

"Are you sure? I don't want to bother" He says, even though he's smiling. 

"Yes, I'm sure" You don't bother to look up your phone. "There's a lot of gossip we have to discuss"

You do look up your phone when he lays down next to you and covers both of you with the blanket. 

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

Up on the roof with a school girl crush

Drinking beer out of plastic cups

Say you fancy me, not fancy stuff

You notice people staring at you as you enter the house. You follow Peter through the crowd, and wonder if the music and the smell of alcohol are bothering him. 

"I'll get something to drink" Peter talks through the music, once you've found a not so packed corner in one of the rooms. 

"If you insist" You smile back at him as he walks away. 

You're looking at his back when someone approaches you. 

"What are you doing here alone?" Some guy asks you, leaning on the wall behind you.

"Who said I was alone?" You reply, not smiling, rather grimacing from the smell of alcohol he gives off. 

"Well, I don't see anyone around right now" He says, looking around, ignoring the fact that you're not even looking at him. 

"Maybe it's because I don't wanna talk to anyone" You simply answer. 

"You're kicking me out?" He still smiles, even though he wants to look offended. 

"I don't know, am I?" You give him a fake smile, just before Peter appears with two cups, and after you grab one, he passes his arm around your waist, facing that guy. 

"So you weren't alone" The guy mutters, looking at Peter's arm around you. 

"If you wanted to keep her company, you can leave, I'm already here" Peter grinns, oblivious to the look the guy gives him before turning around to bother someone else. 

"What was that?" Peter doesn't answer, instead he pulls away and grabs your hand, leading you upstairs, to one of the balconies of the house. "What was that?" You ask again, seeing that he's too focused on his cup. 

"He was bothering you" He simply answers, smiling at you, as you both sit on the floor, leaning your back on the wall. 

"How did you know that? Maybe I was having a good time" You question, smiling back at him. 

"With that look on your face? I doubt it" He raises an eyebrow before raising the cup to his lips. 

"Maybe that's my way of flirting. Showing no interest. They seem to like that" You shrug, smiling. 

"So you were flirting?" His jaw tightens a bit, looking directly at you. 

"What if I was?" You hold his gaze, waiting for any kind of reaction.

But the only thing he does is take out a bottle of alcohol from under his jacket. "What the fuck?" You smile, taking it from as he hands it to you. 

"Though it'd be nice to have something just for us" He smiles as you pour it in your cups. 

"But you didn't answer" You remind him. 

"I mean, I'm your best friend, I have to approve them first" He jokes. 

"That's the reason?" You half close your eyes. 

"Yes" He looks away, drinking. 

"You sure? No other reason?" You insist, stretching out your arm to poke his cheek. 

"Yes" He moves away, fighting his smile. 

"Are you really sure?" You scoot over to be closer to him, still poking his cheek. 

"Yes, I'm sure, okay?" He finally lets the smile out and grabs your wrist as he pulls away. 

"No, not okay, I don't believe you" You try to get your hand free, but he holds it tighter. 

"Why don't you believe me?" He asks you. 

"You don't seem believable" You smile, looking at him as you drink. 

"Maybe it's you who doesn't want to believe me" He talks back. 

"Maybe" You shrug. 

"But for what reason?" He insists, leaning to see your face. 

"I don't know" You sigh, drinking the rest of your cup. "But it's true that you don't seem believable" 

"So you don't believe me and I don't believe you, we're even" He smiles, knowing there’s no point in trying to get you to talk.

"I guess" You smile back at him.

At some point, maybe when you're talking about the stars or when you finish the bottle. You find yourself on Peter's lap, his lips on yours and his hands on your hair. 

You feel the grip he has on you, and how his lips go to your neck, you also feel him smirking against your skin. 

And you also hear someone knocking on the door, making you pull away immediately. 

You don't talk, not when you get up, or when he holds your hand to lead you through the people. You talk when he's walking you home. 

"Can we not talk about that?" You ask, a hand on your neck to feel the hickey he gave you. 

"Why?" He says, looking at the hand on your neck, and remembering how it felt to do that.

"We were drunk, Peter, it was a mistake" You remind him. 

"Yeah, sure, we won't talk about it" He says, and maybe he means it, because even when he's drunk, he hasn't forgotten about the fact that he's spiderman. 

He tries to not be obvious when he's saying goodbye to you, but you still notice him looking at it. 

"Peter, stop looking" He smiles. 

"I'm not looking" He says, looking directly at your neck. 

"You're drunk" You remind him, giving him your back to open your door. 

"Kinda" He replies, grinning. 

"You should stay" When you turn around, he's still smiling. "Peter if you talk about it i'll kick you out" You remind him as you close the door, both of you already inside. 

"Maybe it's worth it" He stops smiling when you leave him alone and walk to your room, mumbling something about a 'mistake', that's all he could hear. 

But he keeps his promise and doesn't talk about it. He wants to, but he conforms with having you under his arm while you watch a movie. 

He doesn't talk about the next days either, not even when you put makeup on your neck to hide it. And weeks pass, but neither of you have forgotten about it. 

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

School bell rings, walk me home

Sidewalk chalk covered in snow

Lost my gloves, you give me one

You were walking home from Harry's, after saying goodbye to him, who leaves tomorrow. Peter's walking by your side. He's huffily talking about the fact that some classmate of yours never stops talking. 

"You also talk in class" You remind him, rubbing your hands together to get some warmth in them, you accidentally left your gloves in Harry's house, you already texted him to consider it a parting gift. 

"Yeah, to you, it's not the same" He says, taking the glove of his right hand off. 

"Why not?" You ask when you see what he's doing. "What are you doing, you're gonna get cold" You say, walking away from him when he tries to give you his glove. 

"At least let me give you one" He replies, and he's faster than you, so he quickly grabs your right wrist and puts the glove on. 

"What about your other hand?" You ask, still refusing to make him cold, even though he's Spiderman, so it's not that of a problem. 

"You'll grab it, and then it won't be cold, okay?" He doesn't give you a chance to protest as he grabs your ungloved hand and starts walking to his house. "And it's not the same because you're worth talking to"

"You're biassed" You tell him, smiling.

"Me? I'd never, how dare you say that" He puts the hand you're not holding in his chest, acting offended.

“Of course you’d never, you react the same when I talk and when Flash talks” You remind him, looking at the snow on the floor.

“That’s because you’re not a shitty person” He says, suddenly grumpy when he talks about him.

“You say that ‘cause you’re I’m your best friend” You look at him.

“Everyone can tell that you’re a good person” He says, genuinely,

“You’re still biassed” You remind him.

“Nonsense, even if I wasn’t your best friend I could still tell that you are a good person” He seems ready to defend his argument with his life.

“How could you tell that?” You ask, curious.

“Because of your aura” You look at him, sceptical “And because you’re pretty” You look away, so he doesn’t notice how flustered you are. But of course he notices, and of course he smiles. Because neither of you have forgotten the ‘maybe I wish you were jealous’ thing, or the fact that you made out at that party. 

You don’t say anything, instead, you urge him to walk faster so you can get in his house already. When you walk in, you're greeted by Aunt May, who gives you a big hug. 

"Oh sweetie, I missed you so much, you should've told me and I'd make sure that Peter isn't dumb, you're the best that has ever happened to him, I can't believe he almost lost you. Men are so stupid sometimes" She talks as she gives his nephews a bad look. 

“Thanks Aunt May” He says, taking off his coat before helping you take off your own as soon as May breaks the hug. “My own family is against me, I can’t believe it”

“It’s okay” You assure her “I could handle him on my own. And they’re really dumb sometimes” You agree with her before following Peter to his room.

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

Light pink sky up on the roof

Sun sinks down, no curfew

After finishing your homework, gossiping and playing video games, you’re both on Peter’s roof, a blanket around both of you as you watch the sunset.

“What about bug-boy, web-head, spidey?” Peter shakes his head with each nickname. “I don’t care, I like spidey”

“Really? I’d prefer bug-boy honestly” He admits, making you smile before looking at your phone, who just made a notification sound.

“What the fuck?” You mutter.

“What?” Peter asks, leaning over your shoulder to see what you’re talking about.

“Flash just asked me on a date?” You say, still looking at your phone.

“Why does he have your number?” He frowns.

“That’s what you care about, really?” You look at him, and you roll your eyes when you see, that, in fact, that’s what he cares about. “I used to tutor him”

“Oh” He seems to relax, but then he frowns again “Didn’t you reject him once?” 

“Yes, but he quite didn’t believe that I didn’t like him, so as a last resource, I told him I had a boyfriend” You tell him, looking at your phone, thinking about a way to turn him down.

“And he just believed you? He didn’t ask who he was?” He says, asking himself why he didn’t know any of this.

“I mean, yes” You doubt before talking. “I told him I was dating you, and I also told him that if he ever bothered you again then he’d actually never have a chance with me, so, yeah” You rant, and when he doesn’t say anything, you keep talking. “I guess he saw that we weren’t that close anymore and assumed we broke up”

“And he just- he believed it? He didn’t question it?” He frowns again.

“Actually, he said that it made sense and walked away” You shrug, looking at your phone.

“What? Do we look like a couple?” He asks and prays that you don’t look up to see the smile on his face.

“Should I tell him that we’re back together?” You avoid the question.

“That’d work” He waits to talk again after you type your response.“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Something gave you the nerve

To touch my hand

“Didn’t seem important” You don’t look at him, instead, you look at your phone, which seems to make him lose his patience. So he grabs the hand you’re using to grab your phone and puts it down between both of you, with his on top.

“It didn’t seem important that people could think that we’re dating?” He asks, thanking the sound of the birds, because he thinks that if it were silence, you could hear his heartbeat.

“Does it bother you?” He almost jumps with the assumption.

“What?- Are you crazy?, no- Why would that bother me?. Does it bother you? Well I don’t think so because you’re the one that said it. But it definitely doesn’t bother me. Like, I’d be honoured if someone came to me and asked ‘Are you dating Y/n’. Actually, I’d be more honoured if we were dating for real, you know?” He stops his ranting when he notices what he just said, and just closes his eyes, thinking about swinging out of this situation. 

When you don’t say anything, he looks at you, seeing you wide-eyed, fighting a smile.

“Is that your way to ask me to be your girlfriend?” He doesn’t answer, he just looks at your mouth, just as you look at his mouth, who’s fighting to say something.

But the words don’t come out of his mouth, instead, he gets closer to you, and you back down a bit, slightly opening your mouth, looking down at his.

“Easy bug-boy” You smile, reminding the wound you cleaned up just a few hours ago. Also reminding him that you’re supposed to be his best friend.

“What’d you call me?” He whispers, laughing before sighing, so mesmerised by you. You smile, and back away, feeling like you’re in heaven when he sighs again.

“You said you liked that, I could call you Spidey if you wante-” You stop talking, his lips almost touching yours. The hand that was on top of your, goes to one side on your neck. “Peter, we shouldn't” You talk, trying to not lose your breath almost.

“I know” He drawls. And that’s when you give in. His lips go to your neck and you can’t take it anymore. When he’s in front of you again, you stop backing away and lean forward.

When your lips meet you feel like you’re going to die. The cold that you were feeling goes away. And you don’t care anymore about the people that could see you.

You just focus on his mouth, so needy for you. His hands, touching you to make sure you won't go away. His body, practically hovering over you. 

He's fighting so bad his impulses to not bite your lip, because he's been waiting for this for a long time. But he does anyway, and he seems proud of himself when he hears the sound you make. 

His hand moves to the back of your neck, and he moves your head so he can kiss you better. You let him do whatever he wants, and you groan when he stops kissing you. 

He laughs after seeing your face, and his lips go to your neck immediately. His other hand goes to your waist, and while you use one to support your body, the other goes to Peter's hair. Which you keep touching when his lips are touching yours again. 

He's practically on top of you, and he's about to make you lay down, but you hear someone walking down the street. 

So you pull away, and after realising what you just did, both of your hands leave each others body immediately. 

"That was a bad idea" You say, barely breathing. 

"I'm in love with you" The breath you just catched goes away, and his eyes search for your gaze after he rants. "I'm so in love with you I don't think it's normal. Because you're so, perfect, and I know I don't deserve you"

"Don't say that" You frown. 

"You're too nice and I'm so…" He looks at his hands. 

"Peter, don't say that" You repeat. 

"And I know it's selfish for me to tell you, but we just kissed" He smiles. "And I get it if you don't feel the same but-" You don't give him a chance to continue talking, instead. You grab his face with your hands and kiss him again. This time it's softer, and you just wish that he gets what you mean. You hope that he knows that you're also in love with him, that you love him so much you want to die. 

When you pull away, you rest your forehead on his, closing your eyes, because you're sure that the intensity of his gaze might decompose you. 

"I love you so much you don't get it. And don't ever say that you don't deserve me. You're so…" You sigh, not able to express it right now. "I'm in love with you, Peter"

"Are you sure?" You look at him, actually wondering if he's being for real. 

"We just kissed?" You tell him, to make sure if he remembers. 

"You kiss a lot of people that you don't love" He says, thinking about the parties you used to attend every weekend. 

"Did you give me a hickey?" You ask, touching your neck. 

"You're changing the subject" He closes his eyes halfway. You sigh. 

"You're the one changing the subject" You talk back. 

"Why would I change the subject?" He sounds offended, even though he's smiling. 

"Because you don't want to believe that I'm in love with you" He smiles  "Because you think you don't deserve me" He stops smiling "Which is the dumbest thing you've ever said, and it's saying something, because you say a lot of stupid shit" He smiles again. 

"Because it's true, it's dangerous, what would they do knowing that you're Spiderman's girlfriend?" He stops smiling, and looks away, regretting everything. 

"I'm already your best friend" You remind him. 

"It wouldn't be the same, they love that cliche where they get the hero's girlfriend" He scowls. 

"They probably think we're already dating" You see him fighting a smile. 

"But still-" You roll your eyes, tired of this. 

"I'm sure, I'm in love with you" You tell him. And he smiles, he looks so fucking happy, especially when he talks again. 

"I did, in fact, give you a hickey" He looks at it, and grabs your wrist when you try to hit him. He doesn't let it go, instead, he puts it down and grabs your hand. "Does that mean you want to be my girlfriend?" 

"No, we just ate each other's faces and confessed our love but I won't be your girlfriend, idiot" You say, sarcastically. 

"Is that how you talk to the boy you love? No wonder you're single" He rolls his eyes. 

"We aren't even together and you're already leaving me" You frown, but it quickly turns into a smile. 

"I would never" He assures. 

"Yes Peter, I want to be your girlfriend"

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

"Weren't you already dating?" Is what uncle Ben and aunt May ask you when you walk in holding hands a week later. 

"What? No" You both say, at the same time. 

"Oh, congratulations then" May says, having an excuse to hug both of you again. 

"Took you long enough to get the girl" Ben says, but smiles anyway, giving Peter's back a pat. 

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

It’s nice to have a friend

You were walking around Peter's room, he just came back from his usual duty as Spider-man, and was finishing some homework. 

"This is new" You tell him, taking a book out of the bookcase, and showing it to him. 

"What?" He looks up, and when he sees what's in your hand, his face goes red. Making you frown. 

"What's this?" You ask him, smiling as he gets up slowly, afraid that a sudden move might make you open the book. 

"Nothing" He lies, walking a step forward, making you back away immediately. 

"That's not true, what is it?" You ask again, and before you can look at the book, it flies away from your hand. When you look at Peter, he's taking the webs out of the cover. 

"Nothing" This time you're the one who walks forward, closing your eyes halfway.

“What are you hiding?” You’re getting closer to him, actually afraid that he might jump out of the window.

“What do you mean? I’m not hiding anything” He talks as he hides the book behind his back. Once you’re in front of him, he sticks the book on the ceiling and grabs your face so he can kiss it when you look upward.

“Kisses are not going to get you out of this, why are you so embarrassed of a book?” You don’t move when he continues kissing you.

“I’m not embarrassed” You look at his face, almost as red as his suit. “And how are you going to get it out of there anyway?” 

“I’m sure May would love to see that” You start to walk away when he wraps his arms around you, laughing.

"Promise you won't laugh at me" He talks, with his arms still hugging you. 

"I promise" You assure him, and after he hears it, he jumps and effortlessly sticks to the ceiling, grabbing the book. 

He gives it to you and turns around, muttering something about homework. 

When you open it you see a lot of pictures, professional ones, polaroids, and even printed from his phone. There's photos of both of you together, of you, and of the things that you like. 

Photos of you trying to do your makeup, reading in class, studying, sleeping, crying from laughter. You petting a dog, a cat, running away from a bug. You holding a test that has a 100 written on it. You sitting on a bench while reading a book. 

Selfies that you took when he was distracted, when he was texting Flash to leave you alone, when you arrived at your first party. Photos of him doing homework while you sat in his bed. There's one of May and you trying to bake while Peter and Ben are trying to help. You kissing his cheek, and him kissing yours. 

Photos of the flowers you saw on the street once and said that you like, a certain street that gave you good vibes, some of the drawings you made of both of you in class. Photos of the matching keychains you made for you to share. 

Apart from the date in which the photo was taken, there's annotations under every single photo. Some of them say 'I love you so much', or, 'You fell down right after I took this photo'. 

He put his thoughts under each picture, even when it's just 'You look hot in this one'. And that photo was from when you two were just best friends. He also put 'I made that ;)' under the photo where you can see a hickey on your neck. 

The book is full of every moment of your friendship, even when that moment was you trying to cut Peter's hair. There was everything, sad thoughts, happy thoughts, normal teenager thoughts. 

After you look at every single page, you look up to see Peter watching you. 

"Do you think I'm crazy?" He asks after you two just stare at each other. 

'What? Why would I think that?" You frown, sitting next to him in his bed. 

"Because I made that" He avoids your gaze. 

"And it's beautiful Peter, I love it, it's amazing" You hug his side, leaving the book on the chair. 

"Are you lying?" He asks and you laugh, rolling your eyes

"You're the dumbest person I know" You lay down as you talk, making him lay down next to you, he turns around so you're facing each other. 

"You say that a lot" He frowns, looking almost offended. 

"Because it's true, why would I lie? I love it" You see him fighting a smile. 

"Thank you" He stops fighting and grins. 

"Did you really think I looked hot that day? I remember that you took a lot of photos" He hugs you and hides his face on your neck, and laughs. 

"Really?" He talks with his face still on your neck. 

"Yes, because if I remember well, we were best friends, you know? Do you think it's normal thinking about your best friend that way?" You grab his face in your hands, making him look at you as you talk. 

"Like you're one to talk" He rolls his eyes. 

"I'm sorry? I've never thought that" You add, innocently. 

"Because I didn't see you almost drool when I wore that outfit you bought me" You smile thinking about it, wondering how you got him to accept your gift. 

"You looked hot, you should wear it again" You smile, giving him a quick kiss on the lips. 

"Didn't you say you never thought that?" He closes his eyes halfway, leaning in to kiss you again. 

"But we're already dating, dumbass" You smile

"Right"

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

They said the end is coming

"What if something happens to you because of me?" You see him trying to hold the tears in his eyes. 

"No, listen, listen-" You try to talk, but he doesn't seem to care. 

"No, wait, wait, wait" He cuts you off, not willing to let you talk. "I cannot let that happen"

"Listen to me" You get closer to him, so he has no choice but to lean on the wall behind him. "You're Spider-Man, and I love that. But I love Peter Parker more, I always loved you, with no Spider bite and all, with glasses, contact lenses or whatever, that's not gonna change" You search for his gaze. "That's worth it to me"

"I can't lose you" He says, looking directly into your eyes. 

"If because you can't lose me, we can't be together, who does that work out for, Peter?" You ask, already knowing the answer. 

"I can't, I'm sorry Y/n" You look away, laughing as the tears begin to fill your eyes. 

"Wow. You've done this to me again and again Peter. I can't live like this" You take a step backwards as you talk.

"I know, I'm sorry" He doesn't move, instead, he looks at you. "We should break up" He says, so quietly that you have to lean forwards to make sure you heard him right. 

"What?" You ask him. 

"We should break up" You stare at him, not showing any emotion. 

"No" You simply say, crossing your arms. 

"What?- You can't say no to a break up?" He frowns. 

"I can, and I do, we are not breaking up" You remind him. 

"Y/n… It's for the best" He looks down. 

"No" You cross your arms. He sighs, passing a hand through his hair. 

"Look-"

"I said I can't live like this, but not in that way. You can break up with me when you stop loving me, or when being with me hurts you. But not because of self sabotaging" You don’t talk for a second, letting him process the information. “So, I’m gonna go, talk to me when you don’t want to break up with me”

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

When you open your shared playlist the morning after, you see that the most recent added song is Afterglow-Taylor Swift

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

Everyone’s up to something

You don’t see Peter until the night after your ‘break up’. He is on your door, with flowers in his hands and sorrys on his lips.

“I’m sorry” He talks as you let him in, scanning his body for new bruises.

“Are you okay?” You ask, grabbing the flowers to put them in a vase. 

“You’re too good for me” He mutters as you lead him to the couch, making him sit next to you.

“Stop saying that” You remind him, grabbing his hand.

“I’m sorry” He looks at you, nothing but honesty in his eyes.

“You came here to tell me something, didn’t you?” He nods, still looking for madness in your eyes. “Then do it”

“I don’t want to break up with you, but I don’t want to lose you. If something happened to you because of me, I’d never forgive me. But you make me happy, you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me, I don’t want to lose you” He hugs you, not sure if you’re the one who’s going to break up with him.

“You won’t lose me Peter, they won’t hurt me, if I survived Flash’s tries to flirt with me, I’ll survive anything. I promise” He stays silent for a moment, chuckling at the Flash's mention. Then, he talks.

“I love you”

“I love you too”

He stays there for the night, giving you nothing but kisses, hugs and sweet nothings. 

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings 

“Shut up” Peter says, finally getting up from the chair and walking to his bed, where you're laying. 

“No, I’m being for real, hear me out” He suddenly lies on top of you, leaving you unable to get up, but you keep talking. “We make T-shirts with exclusive pictures, and boom, we’re rich”

“You really want to sell my pictures?” He puts his head on your chest, closing his eyes. 

“What about one with no shirt and the mask, to keep your identity safe-” Even though he’s not looking, he can feel your smile as he covers your mouth with his hand.

“Let’s sleep” You laugh, pulling his hand away from your face.

“We could be rich” You remind him.

“Shut up” He chuckles, lifting his head to look at you.

“Okay, maybe not sell them to the press, but” He waits for you to finish, raising his 

eyebrows.

“Don’t you think Flash would want a T-shirt from the actual Spiderman?”

He doesn’t react for a moment, considering if you’re being serious or not, then, he kisses you, a quick peck, giving you no time to react.

“I’m so in love with you” He says, his head on your chest again.

"I'm so in love with you too" You tell him, with your hand through his hair.

[frankoceanluvrr]

𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 — 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑

pairing : fem!reader x peter parker, reunited childhood friends to lovers 😫, college!au

warnings : english isn’t my first language, so there could be a couple of grammatical mistakes! plz lmk if u see them! This is so long btw I’m sorry 😭

summary : before he moved away, he gave her a necklace to remember him by. she hasn’t taken it off since.

a/n : you can imagine any peter for this, not specifically tasm i just like the gif -> mj will be included, u can imagine mary or michelle it’s up to you😊 also tysm for 19 followers!!!!!!!!

“Take this,” the young boy sighed, passing the necklace, “it’ll be a reminder of me or whatever. I know I’m not dying or anything but I don’t think we’ll see each other again in person.”

“You really think so?” You sniffled.

“Hey, don’t start crying now you big baby, we can still email and call each other” Peter smiled, nudging your arm.

“You’re the baby, not me, I just had something in my eye.”

“Yeah right [Name], you’re like totally miserable I’m going.”

“You’re the one who got me the necklace! It’s really pretty by the way, I love it,” You said, “I can’t believe you’re leaving me before high school though”

“Look, just promise me we’ll keep in touch?” He asked, eyes meeting yours, “and even if we don’t, take care of the necklace for me?”

“Promise.”

And you hadn’t seen him since that day. It wasn’t like you didn’t try to keep in touch though, it was just a matter of life getting in the way. You had been good friends ever since you were little kids, you had always felt it was a shame you never got to see each other grow up properly. He never forgot you either.

But let’s not dwell on the past. First day of college and you were a wreck. You had always hated change, and you were nervous going somewhere and not knowing anyone except your extremely antisocial roommate, Mj.

You fiddled with your necklace as you struggled to find the room you were in.

“Um, sorry to bother you, but do you know where Professor Browne would be?” You asked, tapping the tall boy on the shoulder.

He turned around, soft eyes looking down at yours, then to your necklace. He smiled, waiting to see your reaction after seeing your childhood friend after years, only to be met with your polite smile. In your defence, he looked completely different. Being bit by a radioactive spider changes a person, including their physique, but it especially changes them while they’re still growing into their bodies. When you knew Peter, he was around about the same height as you and a little chubby. He was now tall and lean, the only thing that hadn’t changed were his brown eyes.

“It’s just down the hall.” He pointed, directing you toward where you were meant to be.

In reality, he was slightly hurt you didn’t recognise him.

“I’m Peter, by the way.” He said, in hopes you’d remember him by his name.

“I’m [Name], thank you for helping me! It was really nice to meet you, but I really need to get going. Thank you again!” You smiled as you walked off.

He felt the urge to call after you, then it dawned on him you probably forgot about your friendship with him. Which obviously wasn’t true, you just didn’t recognise him, but he kept convincing himself it was because you forgot.

“Wait, Peter?” You turned around, “like the Peter from middle school?”

“Took you long enough to realise.” He laughed.

“Shut up no way! You’re kidding right? You look so different! We really need to catch up, what’s your number?” You said, eyes bright and wide.

“Oh, hitting on me already [Name]?” He smirked playfully.

He ended up giving his number as you hurriedly walked to your class, even though you were barely late.

After your class, you decided to meet up with Peter at a nearby cafe. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t nervous, but you were excited regardless.

“Hey,” you smiled sheepishly, “what are the chances, right?”

“Your necklace,” he said, completely ignoring what you said, “you kept it?”

“I promised, remember? It’s beautiful.”

He could only blush at what you said, the fact you kept it after all these years meant so much to him. He remembers the day he picked the necklace for you so vividly, because it was the day he was going to confess his feelings for you. He never did, but he doesn’t regret it since it wouldn’t have worked out anyway, you were both young and he was moving away. Relationship set up for failure.

“How did you even recognise me?” He asked, looking at you with curiosity.

“Your eyes.” you smiled warmly.

“Stop flirting with me, [Name]. I know I’m incredibly handsome and all-”

“You’re still a major geek, by the way.” You cut him off, “biophysics, really? I knew you had a thing for science but wow.”

“Hey! No need for that honestly, we both used to like science” He raised his hands in defence.

“Yeah, used to. Past tense.” You rolled your eyes playfully.

The conversation flowed so easily. It was as if he never left, you talked till cafe closed which was around 10pm.

“Hey, let me walk you to your dorm. I’m sure mine nearby anyway.” He shrugged.

“So chivalrous, Parker. Really, I’m impressed.” You teased, walking beside him, “oh, that totally reminds me, you know spiderman right?”

“Uh, I’ve heard of him before”

“Yeah okay right, you’ve never seen me and him in the same room before,” you started, “I’m definitely him, this is me telling you.”

“Wow, thank you so much [Name] for telling me this massive secret of yours, no idea how you could keep it to yourself honestly.”

“It’s about time I let the whole world know, don’t you think?”

You honestly didn’t mean anything by these comments, you were just joking around, but Peter could feel his heart tighten a bit. He felt like you knew he was Spiderman, which was impossible, but it still worried him.

“Anyways, thanks for dropping me off,” you smiled, “it was really sweet of you.”

He blushed, but you could barely see because it was so dark.

“Before you go,” He said, grabbing your hand as you turned around, “I just wanted to tell you I really missed you.”

You could feel yourself melt a little, “I missed you too.”

He waited for you to go into your dorm as you waved goodbye. His dorm was actually on the other side of campus, he just wanted to walk you.

He spent the whole night thinking about you, how pretty you’d become, how you were still kind. He could feel himself falling for you again already, your energy was just so attractive to him.

Chapter (?) 2 : Late Night Calls

It had been months since you guys had reunited, and you had grown closer than before. It was about 2am and you were still studying. You could feel yourself drowning in what felt like millions of topics, constantly feeling the need to check your phone. You had texted Peter and he hadn’t replied, so throwing yourself into your work was apparently the best option. You liked him so much. It felt silly to have such a big crush on him, but he treated you so well.

While you were studying, Peter was out on night patrol. Balancing education and heroism was always difficult, it left him feeling so overwhelmed he’d shut people out. During night patrol, he’d gotten into a pretty bad fight. He found himself swinging to campus, more specifically your dorm.

Your phone buzzed.

Incoming call..

You answered, squinting at the bright light coming from the device, “Hello?”

“[Name]? I’m so sorry to bother you, but can I come over?” His voice rushed and breathless.

You sat up, feeling way more awake, “Is everything okay? What’s happened? Are you out?”

Your questions were interrupted by a soft knock on the window.

Peter had gotten used to the quick clothes changing by now. He left his suit nearby outside, he was 99% sure no one would take it.

You walked to your window to see Peter, but he had several cuts and bruises across his face.

“Oh my God” you gasped under your breath, trying to stay quiet as you opened the window.

He came through the window as you sat him on your bed.

“Just stay here,” you whispered, “there’s a first aid kit in the other room.”

You came back with the first aid kit and began to help him, no questions asked yet.

“Thank you,” his voice inaudible, “I mean it, you’re so sweet [Name].”

“How did you get to the window?” You asked, placing a bandage on his head.

“Uh, adrenaline?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “what happened?”

He sighed, avoiding eye contact with you. Was he really about to tell you his secret?

“I’m Spiderman.”

“What?” You said, forgetting all about mj sleeping in the other room.

You quickly brought a hand to your mouth, eyes still wide.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s a shock, I just haven’t told anyone before.” He started, “but um, I have something else to tell you.”

He reached for your hands, squeezing them slightly, “I really like you, [Name].”

Your eyes were practically about to pop out your head.

“You’re joking right?” You chuckled sheepishly.

“No, Im serious [Name]. I love everything about you. I love your smile, your laugh. God I love your laugh.”

Your brain was trying to process all of this without making too much of a scene.

Your hands reached for his cheek, “Can I?”

He answered your question by planting a soft kiss on your lips, smiling into it.

You pulled away, “I really like you too, Parker.”

All he could do was blush.

“I cant believe you’re Spiderman, though. I have a million questions.” You laughed.

“Shoot.”

a/n : so sorry this is so rushed 😭 i just wanted to finish it idk why this has taken me SO long to write

[justadreamer08]

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬

wc: 2.7k

pairing: tasm!peter parker x reader (best friends to lovers)

warnings: fluffier than a cloud, nicknames ~ my darling, pebble (it will make sense you guys), bug (mom’s nickname for reader), hand-holding, kissing?

author's note: Hey all! This is my first time posting one of my many drafts! I just deemed this one good enough to let the public see, so I hope you all like it.

summary: Your friendship with peter develops into something more, all because of chemistry notes and your favorite skatepark.

(e/c) ~ eye color

(r/n) ~ reader's name bc (y/n) has just become an unofficial oc that's icky :)

Masterlist

You restlessly sat in your chemistry class. Tapping the eraser on your pencil on your notebook. Your teacher was droning on and on about the four main gas laws. You were originally paying attention, but after the first 30 minutes, you tuned your teacher out. You let out a quiet huff, slowly closing your eyes and shaking your head, you let your gaze drift down to your notes. You opted to draw various doodles and shapes on your paper, when your thoughts drifted to your best friend.

Peter Parker. Your parents were close friends with the Parkers, and thus you and Peter grew up together. You'd seen the long days, short nights, stormy nights, and cloudy days. You'd gone through everything together. You all had dinner together one night at the Parker's, when the two of you looked up from your previous conversation about whatever trivial matters you talked about back then, to see his parents, and your father rushing out the door, zipping about the house. They all left to go to attend to work, and never came back. Since then, you and Peter were stuck together like glue. When Ben died, you were there. When Peter came knocking on your bedroom window, still clad in his suit telling you Gwen died, you were there. You held him through the night, and you were what he needed you to be. A friend, a shoulder to cry on. You'd seen all of Peter's good and bad, his good-looking and his ugly. And he'd seen all of yours

You'd always been able to say that you loved Peter dearly. It's true. He'd always been your everything, your shoulder to lean on, and you were his. The thought had crossed your mind in previous years about the truth behind your affections for him, but you never truly accepted that you felt more than friendly toward him until Gwen died. You knew Peter loved her with all his heart, as did you because he did. When you saw how her death broke him, you refused to see him hurt in that way again if you could do something about it. You'd made it your mission to keep that ardorable lopsided grin he has on his face. Through baby steps, Peter got to a better place, and other people started to show interest in your best friend. You said nothing, and encouraged him to go for anything he wanted, repressing your own favor for him. Since then, your subconcious had a funny way of expressing your emotions toward Peter.

Amongst the various drawings on your chemistry notes, Peter's name lay encompassed by a heart.

RRRRRIIIINNGGGG

Your eyes shot up at the clock when you heard the bell ring. You gathered your things as quickly as you could and booked it. Student chatter filled the halls, as you searched for your best friend. You knew each other's schedules like the back of your hands, and you both had a free period next. You craned your neck around the bustling students when your (e/c) eyes locked with a familiar pair of brown eyes.

You sent a two finger salute in Peter's direction, and he lifted an eyebrow, laughed, and shook his head. You rounded the corner of the hall to your locker, putting away your chemistry books.

"Parker." you stated with a smile, noticing Peter's reflection in the mirror at the back of your locker.

" R/N" he responded as if it were routine. (Which it is)

"So?" you ask turning around to face him, closing your locker.

"Quad?" he asked pointing towards the door.

You nodded and walked in step with him to the student quad.

~

You lay on your back at Peter's feet, and he was sitting and tinkering with his camera. You had a stack of paper next to you, making various things with them. There were paper airplanes, fortune-tellers, rings, chainlinks, and other whatnot strewn around your head. You finished a paper airplane and threw it at Peter, hitting him square in the face, stifling laughs.

"Haha, very funny..." he drones, not looking up from his work.

You throw another plane in his direction, raising an eyebrow at him. He looks up, trying to appear unamused, but failing.

"What?" he speaks.

"Nothing" you say straightfaced, before breaking a small, short-lived smile.

He returns to his work and mutters something along the lines of nuisance with a chuckle, before looking up again and speaking.

"Oh! I just remembered, I need your chem notes."

You've returned to your paper masterpieces, sufficing to give him a thumbs up. You sit there doing your respective tasks, when the bell rings out again. The two of you stand up, walking back into school. You stop at your locker, handing your chemistry notebook to Peter.

~

RRRRRRIIIIIIINNNNNNGGGGG

The bell sounded, signifying the end of the day. You had an arts history project you really needed to start working on, so instead of accompanying Peter to you guy’s favorite skate park, you went home. You waved bye to a saddened, but understanding Peter, who was disappointed that you guys couldn’t carry out your normal routine of going to the skate park, getting some greasy and albeit unhealthy food, watching a movie together, procrastinating from doing some much needed work, being yelled at by May to get your homework done, parting ways to get some sleep, and starting all over again.

~ You arrived at your door, just barely making it past the threshold when your phone rang.

“Hello?” you spoke, pushing the door closed with your foot.

“Hey, Hi! Uh, I have your chemistry notes, and completely forgot to give them back to you, want me to come over later and bring ‘em?” You hear the familiar voice of Peter ringing through the speakers, and a light smile dances on your face.

“Uh yeah sure, I don’t need them right now, but just come over whenever” you replied, somewhat absentmindedly, while looking through the kitchen for something to eat. Your undivided attention wasn’t brought back to Peter until you heard a muffled female voice, and dissected conversation.

“Oh- uh hi…no I don’t….skatepark down that way…flattering…sorry, no thanks…” You heard bits and pieces of Peter’s words, furrowing your eyebrows at the phone.

“Pete what did you say?” you ask in confusion. Someone was flirting with Peter again for sure. You saddened slightly, but perked up again when you heard his voice come through the phone again.

He laughed awkwardly, and you smiled because you could visualize very clearly him scratching the back of his head the way he always did.

“Uhm yeah, anyway, I’ll come over later, you want me to bring takeout or pizza or something?”

“Sure!” you say breaking into a full grin at the mental picture.

“Sick, I’ll be over later okay? Bye!” he responded.

“Bye!” you spoke into the speaker, pressing the end call button. You went back to rummaging through the kitchen, deciding that chips and a pop-tart were good enough. You went into your room, dropping your backpack on the floor and grabbed your skateboard. You sat down and began to work on your project, pushing your skateboard back and forth under your feet.

~

You heard the house door close, and the sound of keys dropping on the table some hours later, signifying your mom’s arrival. She noticed your keys sitting on the table, and called through the house.

“Hey Bug!” she yelled.

“Hey mom!” you responded. Her footsteps echoed down the hall, as she poked her head in your room.

“Homework?” she asked.

“Yep…”

“Arts History?” You threw a sad thumbs up her way.

“Ew.” she chuckled, blowing you a kiss as she knocked on your door frame, signifying her departure. You continued working begrudgingly for about 45 minutes, when a realization hit you, and your head shots up from your work.

Peter has your chem notes, drawings and all. And you put his name in a heart. A HEART. You were screwed.

~

Peter was at the skatepark, sitting atop one of the ramps with his skateboard next to him. He was staring long and hard at your notebook. He didn’t need them anymore, he’d read through them all. It was the corner of the page that drew his attention. His name, in your handwriting, was encompassed by a heart. Did you do it as a joke? Had you done it and completely forgotten? We’re you playing some sort of mind game?

Peter couldn’t lie to himself. Despite having gone through one true relationship he never thought he’d get ever, and the number of people that seem to like to try and get his attention. It just happened around when he was on the phone with you actually, but they always ended in rejection. After you helped him get through coping with Gwen’s death, he realized he wouldn’t want to lose you for the world. You were his everything, and he wanted you close, in anyway he could have you, and recently, he’d realized that ‘more than friends’ was one of those ways.

~

You stared at Peter’s contact picture on your phone that was sitting on the floor. You sat crouched on your bed, debating what to do, because he definitely knew. How could he not? His name was right there on a page in a heart, and you were so forgetful, you hadn’t even thought about it when you gave him the notes. So you sat there, glaring at your phone- and then it lit up. Peter was calling you.

Your eyes widened and you backed away from the edge of the bed, putting more distance between you and the thing, not wanting to talk to him. Then you decided, out of some fit of completely fake confidence, that you were going to talk to him in person. You grabbed your skateboard and marched out the door confidently. The. you realized what you were actually about to do.

~

Peter was on his way to your house when he saw you skating down the street in his direction. He slowed to a stop and walked up to you in confusion. You stopped, hopped off of your board, and shoved it under your arm when you saw his figure walking in your direction

“Wha- how am I supposed to meet you at your house, if you’re here?" Peter speaks with befuddlement, eyes darting around nervously.

"Well, I figured we could go out and get food or something, since we didn't do our normal routine after school!" The words flew out of your mouth, blurring together.

Peter nodded in understanding, and put his board in his bag and started walking alongside you.

~

The two of you ended up at your favorite place, John's Pizzeria. The conversation you had on the way there wasn't horrible at all. It wasn't awkward, and quite pleasant. The two of you were seated on the top level of the restaraunt, surrounded by the fairy lights on the railings. The atmosphere was always amazing, which is why the two of you loved it so much.

The routine was the same as it had been for years: Extra Large Pizza, Half and Half of your favorite toppings, delicious garlic butter breadsticks, and soda for days. The two of you shared laughs about teachers, you listened to him rant about science and photography. He listened and hung onto your every word as you talked about your favorite things. The two of you split the bill, and left, walking in the direction of the skatepark. The two of you lay on your skateboards at the bottom of the ramp. Peter abruptly sat up, and started rummaging through his bag.

"Oh, here, your chemistry notes. " he hands the book to you, and in the flickering lights of the skatepark, you can see the tips of his ears turning red.

"Thanks." you speak, brushing your thoughts away, although you feel your face heat up. You train your gaze on the sky, the air around you guys silent, save for the breeze and sounds of the city.

"I like you too you know..." Peter mumbles cautiously, fearful to let the words pass his lips. He gestures to the notebook, and you flip to the page with his name on it. You turn, sit up and look at him, and his eyes widen slightly and his gaze drops.

"Really?" you speak through a breathy laugh. He looks back at you and nods in response, a smile gracing his features. You smile in return, and when you think back to about how you'd approached the whole incident, you chuckle. Peter furrows his eyebrows, but finds himself laughing along with you. You try to explain between fits of laughter the absurdity of the dance you'd been engaging in. Although your speech is broken, he understands you perfectly. He always did.

The laughter dies down and you both sigh catching your breath. Peter reaches for you, leans forward speaks up first.

"I really want to kiss you right now, is that bad?" he questions.

You laugh and lean your forehead on his.

"Not in the slightest."

Peter lifts your face to his, you lips fitting together perfectly. The kiss is slow, soft, and gentle. You pull away, dazed smiles on both of your faces.

"Who would have thought you'd be my pebble..." he mutters, thumb running up and down your jawline. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion as he elaborates.

"Like, you know how when you're skateboarding, or walking, or riding a bike, and you can be having a great time, but a rock or a pebble gets stuck in your shoe or wheel? Well, I was moving through life, and I always had something there, a pebble that kind of confused me, I was wondering how it ever got there, and I was desperate to figure it out. You are my pebble. You've always been there, you completely turned my life in a different direction, got me out of my comfort zone, and when I needed to be brought back to Earth you were there....It's you, my shoulder to lean on, it was you, someone to vent with, someone to confide in, a friend, someone to just sit in the silence of the dark with...it's you. You were whatever I needed, and even when I didn't know I needed it you were there. You always had been, and I can't get rid of you, but I wouldn't want to. It's you, and I'm glad it was you." he speaks with a smile growing on his face.

"Hm, R/N the pebble...your pebble? It's gonna grow on me, I kind of like it..."

"Always you, and only you my darling" he laughs.

You groan and rub your hands over your face.

"Chemistry notes. It took chemistry notes."

"Hey! At least we know we work out, we have great chemistry...literally I'm in your notebook, the science doesn't lie!"

You laugh at his dorkiness, and start to stand up.

"C'mon Mr. Parker, it's getting late, lets go." He puts his board in his bag, and you get on yours. You grab his hand, and he gets up and starts walking. He keeps hold of your hand, softly pulling you on your skateboard to your house. You get to your steps and he walks you up to the door.

"Goodnight my pebble" he smiles slowly letting go of your hand.

"Goodnight Pete" you smile.

You go insideand close the door, with a huge smile on your face. You open your eyes to your mom leaning against the kitchen doorframe with a smirk on her face.

"It's about time!" She throws her hands onto her hips smiling at you. She was always a huge advocate for you and Peter getting together. You smile, look down and shake your head. You say your goodnights, and walk to your room.

Your mom stayed in her spot, watching your figure fade away as you walked back to your room. She always had your best interest in mind. She saw the longing glances, and the heart eyes you shot his way when you thought nobody was watching. She saw the way his face lit up whever you walked into the room or said his name. She always saw herself and your dad, and the Parker's in you two, and although you all loved Gwen and how she made Peter happy, and were all equally devastated at her loss, she always had a hunch about the two of you. To see the look on your face when you walked in the door made her heart warm, and she knew that you guys would be endgame.

𝙄𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙬𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨, 𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙮 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖 𝙨𝙠𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙠 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙜𝙪𝙮𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙞𝙜𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙤𝙪𝙩

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔼𝕟𝕕

[lady-morrigen]

As Natural as Breathing

PAIRING: Peter Parker x fem!Reader

RATING: E

WORDS: 2600

WARNINGS: unprotected p in v, fingering, minimal plot, one bed trope

A/N: how delighted was I to get to write for @mortwig for the Flowers for Peter server fic exchange?! every bit of your favs list spoke to me in a very real way and I'm so excited to share this gift! HAPPY DICKED DOWN DECEMBER, Y'ALL!

(thanks to @acrossthesestars for her beta skills, as always!)

The door to the motel room swung open, banging against a small set of drawers in the corner. As your eyes adjusted to the dim light of the room, your heart leapt into your throat. The duffel bag you carried on your shoulder fell to the floor with a dull thud. 

“Umm…” You turned to face Peter, who was rubbing a hand along the back of his neck in a sheepish gesture, pink tinting his cheeks.

“I think the clerk must have misheard me,” he grimaced, picking up your bag and heading toward the door. “I’ll go get it straightened out.”

You swallowed, steadying your breathing before you spoke. You had to admit the idea of sharing a bed with Peter was enticing. 

“Peter, wait.” You turned to him. “Didn’t you hear him? He said this was the last room available tonight.”

He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “And I’m pretty sure there was a sign on the counter that specifically stated ‘No Refunds.’”

“Right.” You grabbed your bag from him, tossing it on the bed, the single bed, in the center of the room. “And besides, it’s not like we’ve never shared a bed before.”

“We haven’t had a sleepover since we were like twelve.” His voice pitched up an octave as he swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. 

“Okay, but I’m just saying.” You crossed your arms over your chest, avoiding eye contact. “It’s not like we have any other choice anyway. This is the only room available and we’ve been driving for hours. We need to rest.”

Peter looked at you for a moment and you could almost see the wheels spinning behind his eyes as he processed the thoughts swimming in his head. “Yeah… yeah okay. You’re right.” 

Peter had been your best friend for as long as you could remember. He had come to live with his aunt and uncle the year you turned six, his bedroom, a mirror image of yours, directly across the street. You had marched right over, pet rock in hand, and introduced yourself. The following day, he sat next to you on the bus to school and you had been inseparable ever since. 

Through vacations, rooftop sleepovers, and late night creature-features, you couldn’t count how many times you’d fallen asleep with your head on his shoulder. Being his best friend was easy, as natural as breathing. Falling in love with him had been inevitable. 

So much so that you hadn’t even realized when it happened. One day he’d been Peter Parker, the lanky neighbor boy with bony knees and elbows, the boy you cried to when Tony Piazza had broken your heart, and the next he was Peter, the boy you didn’t dare look in the eyes for too long lest a swarm of butterflies erupt in your gut.

Suddenly, you were keenly aware of the way his scent lingered in your car when you’d give him a ride to campus, the way he ran a nervous hand through his hair when he’d catch you staring, and how something ugly twisted in your gut when he’d waved a friendly hello to his pretty chem lab partner. Mostly, you were shocked to discover how meeting Peter in your designated spot at the end of every day felt a little too much like coming home.

Somewhere outside of Oklahoma City, you still had another eight hours before you made it to your next stop in Albuquerque, and another twelve after that before you reached Oceanside, your final destination. You weren’t sure what had prompted you to agree to a cross-country road trip to celebrate Peter’s graduation, but you couldn’t say no to a whole week relaxing on the coast with your best friend. 

He had let you shower first, giving you a phony excuse about not having to wait for the water to heat up, but you knew he was just being polite. Washing the sweat and grime from your body felt like heaven, the warm water relaxing your muscles, weary from the drive. You begrudgingly stepped out, deciding to pay Peter back in kind by not taking too long and saving some hot water for him. 

The room was small, leaving you to maneuver carefully around the bed where Peter lounged, his eyes sealed shut at your request as you held tight to your towel to keep it from falling loose. You were kicking yourself for not remembering to bring your clean clothes into the bathroom with you as you struggled to dig one-handed through your bag to grab a clean pair of socks. You threw a glance over your shoulder, smiling fondly at the sight of Peter with a hand covering his eyes and a dopey grin on his face. 

Pulling on the socks, underwear, and tee shirt you grabbed from your bag, you realized you had worn your last pair of clean sweatpants on the drive from Indianapolis and didn’t have anything else to sleep in. You rummaged for a moment more before letting out a huff and turning to face Peter. 

“You can open your eyes now, Pete,” you said. “I’m mostly covered.”

He sat up, eyes blinking rapidly as they adjusted to the light and he took you in. As his gaze landed on the hem of your oversized shirt, just covering the tops of your bare legs, he gulped hard. When you crossed your arms over your chest instinctively, he looked away quickly. 

“Did you happen to pack another pair of sweatpants? I wore my last pair today and they’re all grimy.” 

Peter got up to rummage through his bag, pulling out a gray pair and holding them in your direction. 

“This is my last pair, I think. I can re-wear the pair from yesterday tomorrow,” he said. You felt bad leaving him with nothing to wear, and you weren’t about to give up an opportunity to see him parade around in a pair of gray sweats, so you declined. 

“Oh no, I couldn’t let you do that! Besides, those are so grimy that they could practically walk by themselves. You should wear the clean ones.” You wrinkled up your nose, hoping it would be enough to convince him not to push it further. “I have one last pair of biker shorts to last us until we reach a laundromat, but I’d rather not sleep in something that tight. I don’t mind sleeping in just a tee shirt if it doesn’t bother you.” 

“I will be the perfect gentleman, I swear,” he said, grinning and holding up three fingers in an honor salute. 

“Go take a shower, nerd,” you said, rolling your eyes and pushing him toward the bathroom. 

As the tap turned on, you wiggled under the stiff sheets, reveling in the stretch of your muscles. The bed was surprisingly comfortable, though you weren’t sure if it was only in contrast to the hard foam of the car seat. As you burrowed deeper, your senses were assaulted by the foreign yet familiar scent of hotel sheets - a bit musty, like stale carpet with a hint of bleach. Your eyelids began to droop as the day’s exhaustion began to weigh on you and pull you into deep sleep.

When you woke, it was pitch black. As you slowly became aware of your surroundings, you felt the weight of an arm draped over your waist and the warm press of a body at your back. Rolling over, your legs intertwined and you nuzzled softly into the hollow of his neck, breathing deeply  when you remembered… Peter. You were in a motel bed with Peter. Momentary panic threatened to take over until Peter’s arm, still draped over your hips, pulled you closer, pressing you against him in a way that let you know he was very much awake. 

He sighed softly, and you melted into him, placing a tentative, delicate kiss to the dip in his collarbone. He shivered, his hold on you tightening, and you felt emboldened as you kissed him again, tracing a path over the warm skin of his neck, to his jawline, and across his cheek, stopping just short of the corner of his mouth. You threaded your fingers into his hair, deciding to throw caution to the wind and captured his lips with yours. Gripping his hair, you pulled him impossibly closer, canting your hips forward with yet unspoken desire.

His hand found your hip, fingers gently tracing the curve and pulling the fabric of your tee shirt with them as he grabbed at the bare skin of your waist. His lips parted for you, an invitation, and you obliged, lazily licking into his mouth, nipping gently at his bottom lip. Rolling onto his back, he pulled you to straddle him, digging his fingers into the meat of your ass as he moved you against him. You could feel him growing hard through the fabric of his sweats, urging you to grind down harder, desperate for any sort of friction to satisfy the growing ache at your center. 

His mouth left yours as he sat upright, finding your neck and sucking a mark into the skin that you knew would take ages to fade. The thought spurred you on, your hips moving of their own accord, the quiet room now filled with the rustling of overly starched sheets and Peter’s whispered name on your lips. His hands were pushing your tee shirt up your waist, higher, higher, until your bare breasts were exposed to him. 

Looking down, he was illuminated by the hazy, orange glow of the parking lot, the light trickling in around the edges of the flimsy curtains. He was even more beautiful like this, you thought - his eyes glued to your body in wonder and palpable desire, something you had fantasized about for what felt like a lifetime. 

His hands ghosted over the skin of your breasts, giving one firm squeeze before capturing a nipple in his mouth, his tongue laving over the sensitive bud as his other hand pressed tenderly against the dip of your lower back, holding you firmly in place. You dropped your head back with pleasure, tangling your fingers into his hair once again to ground yourself, to make sure you wouldn’t float away. A small moan escaped from his lips as he pulled away with a pop, his eyes meeting you for the first time, nearly black with desire. You smiled at him, brushing the hair back from his forehead in an intimate gesture. You cupped the side of his face, your thumb rubbing tenderly against the soft skin of his cheek. 

Peter closed his eyes and pressed his face into the space between your breasts, holding you there for a minute, his hands tracing invisible shapes over the skin of your back. When he looked back up at you, he spoke softly. 

“You sure?” A hint of insecurity marked the wrinkle between his brows and you reached up, smoothing it away with your thumb. 

You didn’t say anything, only nodded, before pulling your tee shirt over your head and throwing it across the room to land on top of your luggage. There was nothing else you could say as you pulled at the hem of his shirt, prompting him to follow suit, wrapping his arms around your waist so that your chest was flush with his. He kissed you again, slow and sweet and pillowy soft as he guided you back against the pillows, kneeling between your legs. 

He tugged your panties over your hips, down your legs, to your ankles, and grinned as you kicked out of them impatiently. His breath hitched as he took in the sight of you, open and wanting, luring him in. Peter pressed a kiss to the inside of your bent knee, his lips trailing torturously slow along the length of your inner thigh. He ran a finger through your slick folds, bringing it to his lips and savoring the taste with a groan. He pressed one finger to your entrance, swirling it around, teasing it in and out, before adding another and pushing inside. 

Your hips bucked at the sensation as he pumped his fingers lazily inside of you, curling every so often to brush against something that sent shockwaves dancing up your spine. Your fingers were aching from gripping the sheets when his lips found your clit, suckling lightly, the soft swirl of his tongue catapulting you over the edge as you fell apart. His free hand came up to rest on your lower belly, warm and grounding, pulling you back into reality. 

As he moved up the length of your body, you found yourself aching at the emptiness, desperate to feel him inside of you once more. He kissed you, clumsy and coated with the taste of your pleasure, sloppy and divine. You pushed helplessly at the hem of his sweats, eager to get them off of him. He chuckled against your mouth, the sound going straight to your core as he pushed them down, taking himself in hand and sliding through your folds, slick with the mess he made of you. 

He lined up at your entrance, barely pushing the blunt tip inside, leaning forward to rest his forehead on yours, noses bumping as he searched your eyes. 

“Positive?” He teased you with a roll of his hips, his eyes squeezing shut as you pulled him infinitesimally deeper. 

“Peter, ple-” He cut you off, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss, burying himself to the hilt with a groan. 

For a moment, neither of you moved, too caught up in the feeling of being completely lost in each other. He began to move slowly, memorizing the feeling as he nearly pulled out completely,  rolling his hips as he pushed back into you. You brought a hand over your head, bracing against the wall behind the bed, meeting him thrust for thrust, pleasure building higher and higher until it threatened to consume you once more. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist, your free hand clutching his bicep, nails leaving half-moon shadows in their wake. Peter was all consuming - his mouth hot on the skin of your neck, fingers tightly gripping your hip, one hand snaked between you, rubbing tight circles on your clit. It felt as if you didn’t know where you ended and he began, your bodies moving as one, as natural as breathing. 

His moans grew louder, more desperate, as his pace began to falter. His fingers began to work faster against you, the circles growing sloppy, nearly begging you to come with him. Heat bloomed in your belly, melting into something delicious and you toppled over once more, relishing in the sensation of him filling you as he too met his end, your name slipping tenderly from his tongue. 

Slowly, he pulled out, groaning at the loss as he came to rest beside you. The two of you lay there for a moment, his head on your chest, unsure of what was supposed to happen next, or who was supposed to speak first. You began to run your fingers through his hair, your nails scratching gently against his scalp and he hummed in delight. 

“We really should have done that sooner.” His voice was honey, smooth and sweet, as it rumbled against your chest. 

“Mmm,” you hummed in agreement, tilting him up to face you, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “But we have all the time in the world to make up for it.”

(dividers by @silkholland)

[wisteriaandwafers]

I’m making another one

(Part 1) - because there’s a tagging limit

It’s because of the fact that I’ve read some really good fluff recently and everyone else should as well. Also exam procrastination as always

Some parent ones in Tommy section, but most of the rest are mutual pining, best friends, cute misunderstandings working themselves out, Early relationship things, and shenanigans

Peaky blinders but it’s really just Tommy

Keep us safe by @zablife

The resolution was like taking a deep breath

Tachipen and two Shelby men

Swimming lessons by @vintunnavaa

This one in particular I read and reread a lot and I can’t exactly pinpoint why I love it so much

gentle love, who you love

Drabble by @acewritesfics, a daughters return

They happen to both be cute kid fics

Well, what about the Dog by @runnning-outof-time

I’m a big fan of when Tommy’s wife doesn’t give him a choice regarding domestic things. It’s very fun for me

The silver lining

well spoken by @notyour-valentine

This man and finding himself around intelligent women 🤝

Under his Eye by @queenshelby

This one creeps me out a bit because HT creeps me out but I so want to know what happens next

Lurking in the shadows by @pherelesytsia

This one is a very cute Halloween fic

It was an accident by @kiki0005

The aftermath of the accident is cute and funny

Afternoon Shelby Chaos by @teenwolf-theoriginals

This whole collection based on this family is very locute. They’re so loving and 🥰

A friend literally said to me years ago, every time I open your phone you’re reading Bucky fics, and it’s still true:

Well not so much anymore but I still read:

Blurb by @angrythingstarlight

Because bee is the cutest baby ever

Valentine by @softlyspector

Pining and hesitant action is my jam in fics

Though I have never read it by @tuiccim

It’s ongoing but I’m really enjoying it

All wrapped up by @jobean12-blog

It’s a Chrismatime fic and it’s adorable!

I like you a latte by @moonstruckbucky

It’s a coffee shop au what more do you need

Easy by @jadedvibes

It’s the cute beginnings of a relationship and they’re being all sweet and learning each other

Bribe the super by @real-jane

There’s a heat wave, there’s an entangled friend group, and they both sort of stalk each other with help from a store owner.

When morning comes by @pellucid-constellations

Besties at different points but they try and remain connected at heart and 😍

These one are Steve fics:

Mini matchmaker by @avengerofyourheart

Christmas cute kid fic

First date by @navybrat817

They go on a cute date and deal with a mini, kind of funny misunderstanding

My favourite what if part 2 by @imhereforbvcky

There’s drunk coffee, gardening, Sarah Rogers, and forever in love besties

Pick Her poison

Coffee shop meet cute

Then of course because I am a child of this millennium, some TASM! Peter as well, not all, but most:

Zoo blurb by @webslingingslasher

Honestly, I’m not sure which Peter this is but it’s cute

I swear I don’t know who that man is

Tarrent is indeed a character and the whole thing is a journey

Like me, like you by @privateanxieties

I don’t know why I enjoy body switch stories but I do And I am anxiously awaiting the finale

Shampoo and heartbreak. Apple stem

Pairing by @spider-stark

It’s a case of shenanigans stemming from pining and I’m a fan

Bloody love by @parkerpeter24

This one is kinda sad

Daughters will love like you do by @waitimcomingtoo

Babysitter!peter helps everyone

Some light voyeurism

This one by @forever-rogue

Spidey identity and anxiety fueled decisions. It all works out very nicely

Meet cute. By @helplesslyinlovewithcharacters

Meet cute and is very cute

You ain’t nothing by @withahappyrefrain

Actually just read all her Peter stuff. The mob!peter au 🥰 like this one

Forest scenario by @vendettaparker

Text message fic

Webbed troubles by @curseofaphrodite

They’re both so stupid and I love it !!!

Hey babe I love you by @oracleofapollon

It’s best friends to lovers

Stranger things, but it’s really just Steve + Eddie fics

Baby by @cosmal

It’s so cute

Crush by @call-me-eds

There’s a misunderstanding but it’s not what you think

Wayne’s world by @queenimmadolla

A sudden birth I cried so much

It’s a date by @luveline

And no, he does not stop staring even after the date

Waiting for forgiveness by @iveseenstrangerthings

There’s a party, there’s a misunderstanding, they’re besties

Secrets out by @steddielvr

Well that kid can’t keep his mouth shut

Best friends and cosmos by @taylorbrooke1230

I like those you’re just noticing!? Moments

Safe space by @chervbs

So 🥰

Tied with a bow by @angrymilfs

There’s Flowers and cuteness

This one by @plainemmanem

They’re coworkers this time and someone is smitten

Nothing compares by @imamotherfuckingstar-lord

Later life and smiles

Oops I love you by @earthgirl616

Just best friends they say

Then all the others that I can’t categorize but still love and cherish :

Horacio Carillo

This blurb by @tropes-and-tales

Alone for the holidays, love struck

Just like always by @drabbles-mc

Din djarin

Significant by @softlyspector

This one is a case of I don’t even go here. But I just about die for mutual pining and this one has it

Andy barber

What Andy wants by @theycallmebecca

I like this one. One person not realizing what everyone else sees clearly. 

Matt Murdock

You what? By @babyboiboyega

Coffee shop woes by @courtforshort15

F1 imagine

Forgive me, what? By @lovingperfectionsblog

[wordsarelife]

guys i need fic requests for ttpd songs!! check out the characters i write for (request + rules on my nav) and start requesting!!

[sw33tros3]

Possibly your new fav Tumblr author?

Hi Guys!! (not even sure if anyone will see this, but what the fuck let’s give it a try :D). I’ve been reading smuts and short stories on tumblr now for god knows how long. I want to start writing. No, I need to start writing. So, reblog this or comment if there’s anything you want me to write! Can be NSFW, SFW, fluff— literally anything just please someone interact so I have some ideas!! 😩

Or I’ll be forced to pick the ones I already have in my mind :)

[therealflickerman]

Split Lips (tasm!peter parker x reader)

Part three

series summary: Its simple hating peter parker, the cocky asshole who has made it his mission to one up you every chance he gets. In the same vein, its simple loving spiderman, the sweet masked vigilante who has made it his mission to ensure your safety. How simple will it be when the two worlds meet.

______________________________________________________________

chapter summary: Spiderman takes you for a swing and shows you why he does what he does.

word count: 4.6k

chapter contents: reader is intended to be fem! , language, a little banter and a little fluff, reader is anxious and a mess,  idk anything about school in america or school in general, small mention of injury ig

note: Ya’ll I’m so sorry that I haven’t uploaded I’ve been so sick the past few days the fanfic author curse is coming for me, also im sorry yall I gave in, I had to make the reader a little bit of a horror fan. I hope yall enjoy!!

masterlist

series masterlist

chapter one / chapter two / chapter three / chapter four (ongoing!)

Your foot taps rapidly against vinyl flooring, eyes locked on the one question that you can’t wrap your brain around, it's a longer question with a few points riding on it, and you wrack your brain as to how you’re going to answer it. You’d flown through the rest of the test with confidence, yes this was partially due Peters and his perfect note taking skills but you’re choosing to ignore this fact. You reread the question before giving into your temptations, flicking your eyes to the front of the room to find the familiar mop of brown hair, Peter seems to have finished his test and now sits tapping his pen against the table softly, he looks so sure of himself, as per usual, and you suck in an anxious breath before turning your eyes back to the test with a newly found sense of determination. 

It takes you a moment though you’re now knee deep into the question, letting out a breath of relief as you write away you feel pressure drop from your shoulders. 

Finishing up the question you flip through the test, reading over your answers and editing bits and bobs where you need to. You catch the time on your watch and notice there are still twenty minutes on the clock, a small smile curls on your face. 

You notice Peter turn in his chair and you look to meet his gaze, he sends you a cocky grin and flashes you a thumbs up before turning it to a thumbs down, trying to gauge where you’re at. You send a smile with a thumbs up in return and he nods softly before turning to look back up at the board. 

The bell for lunch rings and you’re quick to grab your things, handing your test to the teacher without a word, you skip a step trying to make it past students as they pile out of the room. 

“Peter,” you yell softly across the hall and he barely catches your voice over the volume of student chatter. He turns his head, searching for whoever it was that called his name, a grin curling on his lips as he sees it's you dodging through the crowded hall. “So, how’d it go” you huff, catching up with him, “wouldn’t you like to know,” he grins stupidly and you retort with a, ‘why do you think I asked’ and an eye roll. 

“It went great thanks for asking,” his tone is teasing, “how about you”.

“I think I’ll pass,” you grin. 

He hums a laugh, “and… do you have anyone to thank for that?” He raises a brow. 

Yours furrow as you think for a second, “no one comes to mind,” he nudges you softly. 

“I wasn’t planning on giving you the satisfaction but seeing as you though saved my ass” you preface with a smile, “thank you Peter for your notes”. 

He watches you with a cocky smile, “You’re welcome.”

Your brain thinks back to the conversation you had with Spiderman last night and you swallow a nerve. “Hey I was thinking maybe we could study together some time,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself, sinking your teeth into your lips, you watch him grin. “Were my notes really that good?” he asks with a raised eyebrow and you roll your eyes. 

“Forget I asked,” you grin.

“I would like that,” he wears a smile and the both of you sit in an awkward silence for a moment.

“Well I better… I um have to print photos,” he points his camera in the direction of the photography room. 

“Course,” you nod, “I’ll see you,” you mumble. 

He gives you a wave and heads off. 

______________________________________________________________

For the first time in the past week you feel a pressure lift off of your shoulders. Humming softly along with your music you put one foot in front of the other as you walk home, a smile adorns your face as you think of Peter. You’ve had a hard time making friends, putting yourself out there and letting people in. You’ve also spent hours watching as friends study on picnic blankets, listening to the giggle of teenage girls as your mum picks you out ugly sweaters at the mall, watching friends struggle to find a lunch table that accommodates so many people. You've felt the twist of jealousy in your gut more than you’d like to admit and you’re more than sick of it. 

You push open the door to the apartment complex, letting out a huff as you start the climb to the fifth story. As much as the stairs hurt, Spiderman's way of getting around is far more frightening and your feet are grateful for their contact with the ground as you stomp up to your floor. 

You feel around in your pocket for your keys, wiggling them around in the old lock as they struggle to turn, the lock eventually gives way and you push open the door with your shoulder. 

Letting out a content sigh you head straight to your room. Ripping out your ear buds, pausing your music and flopping your phone on your bed before following your phone and collapsing face first. You lay for a second, enjoying the comfortable silence of your room, the only sounds to be heard are the hum of cars outside your window and the low buzz of the fan that you forgot to switch off that morning. 

A groan slips from your lips as your phone rings, its volume is jarring and without moving from your position you aimlessly grab for the phone that lays on the bed above your head. Getting your grasps on it you answer and bring it to your ear. 

“Hey love, I’ll be home late tonight,” your mum’s voice rings from the other end, you let out a lazy hum in response and she lets you know there’s leftovers in the fridge that you can have for dinner. Oscorp had recently  been working on a big new project, something to do with a DNA rebuilding serum, though it was ‘top secret’ and she ‘really shouldn’t be telling you this in the first place’. This meant all hands and deck in the labs, and therefore your mother had been out working hard until two a.m. most nights. 

You wish her good luck, telling her you think you did well on your test and that you would see her in the morning before hanging up the phone. 

The next few hours manage to escape you, you’re not quite sure how, though you do know what one moment you were studying quite happily, and now you’re sat in your bed with a blanket draped over your shoulders and a pillow clenched between your arms, your face contorted in disgust. 

‘The Thing’  plays on the screen and despite having seen it a thousand times it never fails to make you squirm, another body get ripped to shreds as a knock rings out from your widow and you jump, your eyes flicking to the window across the room from you, you spot a body of red and blue standing on your fire escape. 

Pausing the film and pushing your laptop to the side you jog to your window, sliding it open the old window with as much muscle as you can muster. “Do you know that you pick the worst times to sneak up on people,” you let him into the warmth of your room.

He lets out a soft laugh, “so I’ve been told,” you can hear the grin in his voice. 

Taking a seat on your bed, you give a nod, motioning for him to sit down at your desk. 

He swivels the chair and takes the seat, you watch his eyes explore your room, noticing the covers on your bed, the posters hung up on your walls, the bits and bobs that litter your desk. “Nice posters,” you let out a small laugh, “thank you”.

“So, what are you doing here?” you question with the raise of an eyebrow, 

“I told you I was going to take you on another swing” he grins, you can hear it in his voice. 

“No, no no.” You mumble with a shake of your head, “no way,” your voice is final and a laugh bubbles in his chest. 

“C’mon… you’ll like it I promise.” 

“I’m not quite sure I trust you” you tease with a furrow of your brows, 

“If you hate it I’ll take you right home,”

You sit in though for a quick second with a bite of your lip, “fine, but you take me straight home if I hate it okay.”

“Okay, you got it,” he laughs.

You pull on a pair of shoes and his hand guides your back as the both of you slip out your window. 

You brush off nerves with a shake of your hands, looking down from the fire escape, “and you’re like one-hundred percent sure you won’t drop me” you breath looking up to meet his eyes. “I’ve held a semi trailer from Queensboro bridge for half an hour, I think you're good.” 

“Show off,” you mumble under your breath. 

Letting out a nervous breath you give him a nod, “okay I’m ready,” 

“Are you sure becaus-” he starts with a stupid mocking voice.

“Shut up. I’m ready,” you nod with a determined face, he lets out a soft chuckle and places a tight arm around your waist before shooting a web. A small scream escapes your lips and your stomach drops, you slam your eyes shut and your arms shoot to wrap tightly around his neck.

“Holy shit,” your voice wavers as wind rushes through your hair and past your ears, the newly familiar feeling of plummeting to your death sends shivers down your spine. 

“Open your eyes,” you can feel Spiderman's voice in your ear. If it weren’t for his mask his breath would run down your neck. “I don’t know if I can,” you yelp, holding onto him tightly as you fall for a particularly long second before he shoots another web propelling the both of your forwards. 

“C’mon, you’re missing the view,” he coaxes you softly, raising his voice ever so slightly so you can hear him over the sound of the wind. Hesitantly, you crack an eye and you’re met with the most beautiful view of the city that you love. The lights that reflect off of building windows dance just as the stars do, it's the first thing you notice as you take in the sight, you let out the breath you’ve been holding in as your eyes look to the streets below, your stomach flipping as you notice how high up you are. 

Spidey watches you with a soft smile sat behind his mask, his eyes flick to the towers in front of him, focusing on his swinging before flicking back to watch the look that lights up your face.

You try to catch the view as you fling through the streets, your eyes flick through beautiful streets, an open park full of food trucks and people, a church lit up and seemingly holding a late night service, a string of expensive restaurants where the rich eat their meals, you’re seemingly ripped from them every second or so as Spidey swings you through each scene. 

The both of you fly upwards swiftly, he swings you both upwards towards a tall building in the heart of Queens that sits higher than its neighbours, your feet land softly against the roof and your arms slowly drop their grip on Spiderman. 

“Oh my god,” you swallow a nerve, a breath of relief escaping your lips as a big grin curls on your lips. 

“I told you you’d like it,” he watches your face as you take weary steps towards the edge of the tower. “It’s amazing,” you push the words out as you struggle to know what to say, it was like seeing the city for the first time.

“Still terrifying though,” you add with a grin, “I think I peed my pants just a little” you giggle and he shakes his head with a laugh. 

“You get to see this everyday,” you watch the busyness of the city below, the cars look like little ants in their respective colonies as they follow the flow of traffic. You can barely see the people about their everyday lives as you sit so far in the sky, though you watch business men and women sitting at desks in neighbouring buildings, all in their own small cubicles, each the same as the story below them. 

He hums with a nod, his eyes trail on yours as you watch the world go by. 

“I think I like it here where I’m not focused on falling to my death,” you tease, turning to meet the gaze that burns holes into your temple. “I can understand that,” he smiles down at you and this time he’s cursing the stupid mask that adorns his face.

The two of you sit in a comfortable silence looking down at the view, the air is filled with the distant honk of cars and chatter of people.

“I asked Peter to hang out… kind of,” you break the silence, you meet each other's gaze, “really?” he asks, putting on a smile and swallowing a pang of guilt. “Yeah… it went well enough” you nod, looking back down at the view, “I mean we have these bursts of awkward moments and I feel like I want to claw my eyes out for even starting the conversation, but I guess that's just a part of it” you shrug.

“Apart of it?” he asks. 

“Making friends, being acquaintances…I don't know what we are” you mumble and it comes out as a question. 

“You’re friends.”

“What makes you say that?”

He shrugs, “I have lots of friends, I know how it works” he teases and you roll your eyes.

You hum, “sure you do” a giggle escapes your lips. 

“I do!” he defends although it’s not entirely convincing. 

“That's why you spend all your time with some high school chick that you met on the side of the road.” you tease with a grin. 

“That’s because you’re my closest friend,” he mocks, elbowing you softly. 

“Some friends you must have,” you giggle and it draws a laugh from his lips. 

“We should get back out there,” he nods his head towards the city and you give him a silent nod. 

You shut your eyes tightly gripping onto him as he jumps from the building, dragging you down with him. 

“Web something asshole!” you shout not daring to open an eye at the velocity in which the two of you were dropping. A smirk grows beneath the mask before he shoots a web to a nearby building and the two of you glide forwards through the air, you force your eyes open and watch as you glide between cars, you send sheepish smiles to civilians as they eat their dinner outside of expensive restaurants before Spiderman slings you both higher into the sky. 

The two of you spend the next few hours swinging through each and every corner of Queens, stopping to talk and look at the view before repeating the cycle. You’ve never felt so free and a part of you finally understands why he does what he does. 

Your feet land firmly on your fire escape, and you already miss the freedom of the webs. 

“Told you you’d have fun” he grins and you roll your eyes, “yeah yeah”, a big smile spread across your face. 

“Thank you Spidey,” you nod with a sheepish smile and a wave of shyness flows over you. “Of course,” a genuine grin sits behind his voice and you smile at his words, the two of you sit in a comfortable silence for a small second before there's a soft knock on your bedroom door. “I’m home love, why are you up this late, who are you talking to?” your mothers voice is muffled through the door and your eyes widen as you place a hand on his chest, softly pushing him towards the window. “Uh, yeah mum just on the phone sorry,” you call out in the most believable voice you can muster in the moment of panic. 

“Goodnight” he whispers sweetly and you send him a quick smile, before shutting the window on his face and running to crack open your bedroom door. 

He peeps over the bottom of the window, watching as you make up a frantic excuse sending your mum a goodnight and a hug before shutting the door a little louder than you had planned. 

He cracks the window open ever slightly, "It's good you stayed calm,” he mumbles keeping his voice low. You turn abruptly and send him an eye roll, kneeling before your window you meet his face on the other side, “go home psycho,” you whisper with a smile and he laughs, “okay.” 

He sends you a look before jumping from the fire escape, shutting the window you’re conscious to leave it unlocked before you slide into bed for the night.

______________________________________________________________

When spiderman had promised to take you swinging again he had meant it, in fact you’d practically patrolled with him every night for the past week, he would pick you up from your room or your way home from work, dragging you into the cold so the two of you could explore the city and talk about anything and everything. You had to admit you felt like you were distracting a very important person from doing a very important job though that thought quickly crumbled as you stood wide eyed, watching from afar as Spiderman beat in the face of a man who had been mugging and beating young high school girls who were just trying to get home from school and work. The sickening crack of the man’s nose breaking rang out into the empty alleyway, as did his pathetic whimpered apologies, part of Peter had wondered if he had maybe gone too far that night and if it was maybe because the man's choice of victims struck a small nerve deep inside him.  

Needless to say from that point on Spidey didn’t take you out swinging so late into the night, although did make it a habit to visit you every night after patrol. 

______________________________________________________________

You tap your pencil rapidly against the plastic of the science room desks, the boy next to you, Adam you think his name is, asks you ‘what you wrote down,’ for the third time that period as the two of you complete the worksheet to go along with the practical the class completed today. You blink for a moment, finding the kindness within you and sliding your booklet his way, “why don’t you just copy it all down,” you give him a pressed smile.

Your eyes flicker to Peter's seat, it’s as empty as it was the last five times you checked and you let out a sigh.

He had been in English class that morning and you had seen him in his usual spot sat by himself during lunch, and you’re sure you’d seen him running through the halls just before this period though his seat remains vacant. 

Your eyes flick up as your teacher announces that he’s handing out the results of the Bio test and a smile curls onto your lips. 

“Good job,” Mr Khan smiles down at you, placing the test paper on your desk, “Adam, you see me after class,” he musters a smile and the boy looks up from copying your work with a shrug. 

“Um sir,” you blurt as he attempts to move on from your desk, “Peter wanted me to grab his test result for him,” you put on the most convincing smile you can muster.

He gives a knowing smile, “I’m sorry but you and Mr Parker should know more than anyone that I don't give out test results to other students, Peter will just have to wait till tomorrow to get his results.”

You roll your eyes as he passes you and you flip over your own results, you find a ‘98%’ in a big red circle and your lips curl into a small smile, you had prayed over and over for a 100% but you have nothing to complain about as you read the 49%, ‘see me after class’ from Adams results and you send him a pressed smile.

Swerving through the slow herd of students, you gently nudge past a group of particularly sluggish friends as they take their time groaning about their science grades and how ‘their parents will kill them’. It had been a long day and you simply want to make it home as early as possible, if you hurried now you’d have a chance of making the early subway and effectively cutting twenty minutes from your trip. Jogging softly you keep your eyes tracked on the ground in front of you, focused on the task at hand, you pay little mind to the quiet murmurs of students that fill the air, that is before you hear the soft spoken name of ‘Spiderman,’ your head shoots up in an instant and you clear your throat softly as you realise you look pathetically eager with your eyes darting around the buildings trying to spot him. 

Your eyes soon catch his as he swings past the school and you send him a soft eye roll as a small grin curls onto your lips. The chatter around you rises as students watch him fling through the streets before dying down as they lose sight of him, though your eyes track the direction he swings in and you slip through traffic, crossing the road and heading through the backstreets to meet him.

“You know if you keep showing up around my school people are going to find out you’re having some weird friendship affair going on with a high school student” you sneak up behind him as he stands waiting for you. 

You had spent a lot of the past week attempting to sneak up on Spiderman, though you had failed to consider his stupid ‘Spidey-Tingle’, which he had affectionately named it, and how it would pretty much ruin any and all chance you had of getting the payback you seeked. 

“Would that really be so bad?” he teases turning to greet you. 

“Well the tabloids would either paint you as a big fat pedo or they’d find out about your secret high school student identity.”

“I told you I’m not in high school,” 

A sceptical hum slips from your lips and a soft smile curls on your face, a laugh bubbles in his chest and he extends you his hand, “would you like a ride home?” “That would be great,” you grin, taking his hand before wrapping your other arm tightly around his neck. 

To say you were at ease now with swinging was an understatement, it took you a night or two to get used to it, the stomach turning feeling, the emptiness between yourself and the ground, now it was by far your favourite part of your day. It was the feeling of freedom you loved the most, it was more than your first car or the moment you turn Twenty-One, it was like flying, like not even gravity could control you, and Spiderman had chosen to share it with you. 

At first you found it a little strange that it was you he had insisted on taking you swinging almost every night although the more that the both of you had sat and talked for hours you decided that he must just be young, and lonely, and had found a friend in your company, and you had more than happily made a spot for him in your life. 

“Thanks Spidey,” you lean against the window sill of your room. 

“Just doing my job,” 

You hum a laugh and your lips curl into a smile, “I’ll see you tonight?” 

“Course,” he hums and wishes you congratulations on your test results and good luck on our study session. 

You hum along to the soft music playing from your phone, laying amongst your sheets you work on finishing up your Maths homework, your brows unconsciously furrow and a lip slips between your teeth as you think for a particularly long minute about the question on the textbook in front of you before you complete it and write it down in your book. 

There's a thud on your window and your head swiftly flicks up, a smile quickly plastering itself across your face as you push your work to the side, your homework papers get muddled together but you fail to care as you watch Spiderman slowly crawl through your window. 

“How was your night bugboy?” you ask though your smile falters as you watch him clutch his side before collapsing into your desk chair. 

“Why do you have a desk if you’re just going to study in your bed,” he teases, releasing a strained breath. 

“Are you okay?” you ask softly, ignoring his question. 

You spring off your bed and come to his side, your hands hovering over his ribs as his own grip them tightly. 

He hums in response, “there's this, big… I don't know…” his words roll over on his tongue, “Lizard guy.” His eyes meet your, you can feel his gaze through the mask. 

“You’ll see it on the news” he adds, “got me pretty good,” a soft laugh bubbles in his chest, a spit of anxiety bubbling in your own. 

“Is there anything I can do,” you feel the wideness of your eyes though you can’t seem to help it. 

You hadn’t known Spiderman long though you’d been waiting for the moment something like this had happened, and though he sits in front of you, not a speck of blood nor a tear littering his suit, promising you that he’s fine, you can’t help but feel a small sense of unease boiling in the pit of your stomach. 

“What about an ice pack?” you push. 

He hums a soft laugh, “I’m okay.”

You nod and the two of you sit in silence for a small second.

“What happened… I mean with the Lizard?” you question, meeting his gaze. 

“He was tearing up a bunch of streets, flipping cars and sending them into restaurants, he also sent me into a restaurant,” he hums another laugh and lifts his hand from his ribs. 

“Shit” the word escaped you in a soft mumble. 

“Did he get away?” 

He hums with a nod, “I was helping a kid out of a burning car, and he slipped away. He seems to have gone back home for the night but I’ll get back out there to be sure though,” 

“It’s late Spidey…” the words hang on your tongue. 

“I know but if he’s still out there…” 

“You have school in the morning” you nudge him softly and he lets out a wince of pain alongside a small laugh. 

“Sorry,” you mumble with a sheepish smile and he shakes his head, “it’s okay,” he laughs. 

The two of you sit in silence, you want to say more but you don’t want to push him, he knows far more about what he’s doing than you do. 

“I better get going, I just wanted to let you know that I was okay,” he mumbles softly and you can hear the tiredness laced in his voice. 

“You go home Spidey,” you whisper 

“Okay,” he gives you a nod, “I will.”

You send him a smile and wish him a goodnight. 

He climbs onto the fire escape and returns your sweet dreams, “you lock this window okay… I know that you keep it unlocked for me,” he mumbles and you give him a small grin, “okay.” 

He gives a small goodbye and swings from the ledge. 

TAGLIST

add yourself to my taglist

@chaoticcoffeequeen @lov3vivian @s0meth1ngs

[2022-was-not-my-year]

I legit had this idea while I was eating chips and drinking tea in my dorm room. I had this idea for an Andrew Garfield Spider-Man fanfic, series or one shot, where Peter meets the reader on the roof of their apartment complex. This takes place somewhere around the time between the second TASM movie and Spider-Man: No Way Home. Peter is an absolute emotional wreck, still trying to recover from Gwen’s death and his mental and emotional health have started to plummet. When he finds the reader on the roof, the two of them talk, with the reader consoling him. The reader asks to give him a hug because the oxytocin from it may comfort him. After giving him a hug, the reader makes a promise with him, where they both will meet up on the reader’s apartment complex’s rooftop to watch the sun set and to give him a hug for his daily amount of oxytocin. Depending on which direction it goes, Peter and the reader would either fall for each other over the next few months, or they just become best friends. College is legit time consuming and kicking my ass, but if I miraculously have free time and I’m bored out of my mind, I’ll probably try to actually write this as a story or something, and I’d probably make the title “Oxytocin”. I don’t know, what do you guys think?

[frankoceanluvrr]

𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 2 — 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑

pairing : friends to lovers , fem!reader , college!peter, college!au

warnings : nothing too serious. english isn’t my first language, urdu is! so please tell me about grammatical errors like spelling and punctuation as those i struggle with

summary : [Name] and Peter have been friends since college started. He soon finds out his friend has a ‘crush’ on the masked vigilante Spiderman, and cant help but feel a little jealous.

part 1 here! : https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/frankoceanluvrr/715754434612838400

a/n : @natashamaximoff69 requested! thank you for 10 followers !!!!! ❤️ sorry this is a bit rushed

“I hate studying.” You groaned, putting your head on the table.

“Well, maybe you hate it because you’re always doodling instead of actually learning. Who do you draw again? What’s he called? Spiderman?” Peter teased.

“I hate you so much” you laughed lifting your head up.

You guys weren’t even studying for anything important. You both just wanted to spend time together, even if it meant studying topics in advance.

“I gotta go,” Peter said, looking at his watch, “See you tomorrow?”

“Uh, actually, you wanna go see a movie tonight?” You asked, not even looking at him.

“What? Like a date?” He asked quickly.

“Yeah, like a date.” You breathed, meeting his soft but excited gaze.

“What time?” He said, shocked this was even happening.

“Just text me when you’re done doing whatever you’re doing.” You said, putting all your things in your bag, “should I walk you to wherever you’re going?”

“Wow, you’re really the gentleman [Name],” he smirked, “but no it’s fine, thanks though”

“Be safe” you smiled as he walked away.

You ran to your friends as soon as you saw him leave.

“Did you ask?” Your friend Gwen asked, grabbing both your arms.

“He said yes!” You smiled widely.

“Geez, calm down [Name]” Your other friend Mj laughed, “it’s just a date right?”

“Well, I might ask him to be my boyfriend by the end of it. I don’t know though, what if he thought it’s just like.. a friend date? Oh my God that would be so embarrassing—” You rambled before being cut off.

“Friend dates exist?” Gwen looked puzzled, “anyway, don’t overthink it [Name]. He so obviously likes you back.”

“Yeah [Name], you practically have nothing to worry about. We can help you get ready for it too” Mj smiled.

You spent the whole day with them in your dorm planning everything down to potential conversation answers. He spent the day.. differently. Being Spiderman wasn’t easy. He was obviously excited for the date, but he had other problems.

It was now 10pm, you were staring at your phone. It was off on your bed and your friends were staring with you.

“Maybe you should go over to his dorm, he’s probably nervous.” Gwen sighed, passing you your phone.

“You sure he’s not just standing me up?” You frowned, looking at your friends.

“No, and even if he was, he’d be making a big mistake. You’re a catch.” Gwen smiled, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“[Name], just go to his dorm, he might be waiting for you or something.” Mj laughed, pushing you on your way.

You got to his dorm and knocked on the door. The door opened slightly, and you could see a figure crawling through the window. You furrowed your eyebrows, opening the door even more until it made a noise. The figure stopped and began to turn around, you hid behind the door but it started to open even more revealing you.

Then you saw him. Spiderman? Breaking into Peters dorm?

You reached into your pockets frantically to ring the police. He rushed towards you.

“I’m not a criminal I promise.” His tone panicked, shutting the door behind you.

And with that, he took the mask off revealing himself.

“Peter?” You said, eyes widened.

“Hey” He said sheepishly, the shock not even settling in for him yet.

You were the first person to know he was Spiderman.

“How? When? What?” Your questions could barely get out your mouth, “you’re Spiderman??”

“Well, to answer your first questions, a radioactive spider bit me when I was 15. I’ve never told anyone about this, and neither can you. Secret identity you know?”

“That won’t be a problem, but are you okay?” You said, noticing his face was slightly bruised.

“I’m fine now” He smiled softly, taking your hands.

“Do you have like 8 hidden eyes?” You said standing back slightly, taking in the information given to you.

“What?” He laughed, “no, [Name], I don’t have 8 eyes unfortunately.”

“This cant be real” You furrowed your eyebrows, “I thought you said Spiderman was old and had bleached hair?”

His face flushed, “I was jealous.”

“Of yourself?” You laughed, pushing his arm.

“Shut up, it’s just the way you were talking about him”

“I was talking about you though.”

“Whatever, why don’t we just go to the movies hm? I heard they’re re-running scream.” He said attempting to shift the conversation.

“Good idea.” You smiled, “but I still have more questions you know.”

“Ask me on the way, let me get changed.” He said running off to the bathroom, “you look really beautiful by the way.”

And that’s when it really settled in that he was Spiderman. He was the one who was complimenting you. The one helping you and thousands of others. You began to worry about him as he was getting ready. He had to face danger everyday. Risking his life everyday. Before your thoughts could get any worse, he came out dressed like Peter Parker. The Peter you fell in love with, not Spiderman.

“I hope you know I don’t like you more because you’re Spiderman, I still hate you” You smirked.

“Yeah yeah whatever you say [Name].”

In reality, he was scared you might only like him now because he’s Spiderman. He’s never been so wrong about you.

The walk to the movies was filled with every question you could think of, and Peter didn’t mind. He loved the fact he could talk to someone about this, but he loved talking to you more.

[madwcman]

hi!! what about a best friends to lovers with tasm peter parker AND AND she thinks he likes someone else but he’s been whipped for her since FOREVER😋!! thanks a lot hehehe

a/n: let’s pretend this didn’t take me so long to answer, thank you for requesting!! enjoy ♡

pairing: tasm! peter x reader

“you’re avoiding me.” looking up from your phone, you see your best friend and now crush, peter parker. his arms folded over his chest, with a sour face.

“i don’t know what you mean pete.”

“liar.” and that you were. not only were you out hiding from him now, sitting in the bleachers of the football field. you’ve also been avoiding peter for the past two days after realizing you had a crush on him. which was an issue. not only was peter your best friend, but he also liked another girl. you thought she was better than you. not only was she smart but she was pretty. the perfect girl for peter.

“i’m not a liar, peter.” you sigh, looking back at your phone. avoiding peter’s eyes.

“you’re literally avoiding me right now!”

“i’m talking to you aren’t i?”

you hear peter huff as he sits down next to you. “you’re not even looking at me.”

you shrug him off. you’re not willing to answer him at the moment.

“what’s wrong, sweet girl?” peter questions, softly. he reaches for your hand.

“it’s nothing peter, i promise.” you mummer, as you put your phone away, looking straight out to the football field. still trying to avoid peter’s eyes. but you do hold his hand.

“you’re lying again.” at the moment you wonder if it’s his spidey senses that give you away or if peter truly knows you. you hope it’s the second option.

“can we just drop this?” you finally turn to look at peter. his boyish and charming smile, traded in for a small frown.

“no, my best friend has been avoiding me for the past two days!”

“i have not-“

“can you just tell me what’s wrong?!”

“Peter, i like you okay!” you yell out, taking your hand from peters. you tilt your face down, embarrassed. “i’ve been avoiding you because i know you don’t feel the same.”

it’s silent for a few seconds. but peter’s loud laugh breaks the uncomfortable silence. “are you laughing at me?” you ask, slightly confused, flabbergasted and a little offended.

“no!” he giggles, uncontrollably. you send him a glare. he’s being a little cruel, in your opinion.

your eyebrows furrow, as you push peter away from you. “you’re laughing!”

“i’m sorry, it’s just you’re so oblivious!”

“what?!” your voice raises, you can’t help but be slightly annoyed and defensive. you’re not oblivious.

“sweetheart, i’ve been in love with you since forever!”

oh, you’re shocked. you’ve never expected to hear those words from peter. “forever?”

“forever.” he shakes his head, as if to assure you.

“what about that girl you’ve been hanging out with?” voicing out your confusion, you couldn’t help but think of the beautiful and smart girl peter has been around lately.

“who, sadie?” you didn’t know her name. but you shake your head, assuming.

“sadie’s my lab partner. ”

“oh.”

“oh?” you feel slightly dumbfounded as peter eyebrow quirks up, questioning you. he’s simply curious. you have his full attention.

“i’ve been thinking you’ve liked her this whole time.” you admit, bashful. you can’t help but feel flustered while admitting this to peter.

peter can’t help but laugh again. this is comedy gold. he couldn’t love or cherish anyone as much as he does you. “oh, this is hilarious!”

“it’s not that funny!” you defend yourself, how could you have possibly known she was his lab partner!

“this whole time-“

“shut up.” you try and give your best intimidating glare. as he continues to laugh.

“we could have talked-“

“shut up!” you pushed him away, playfully. you try to conceal your smile, with peter it’s hard. you can’t help but smile around him.

peter scoots back over to you, warping his arms around you. “my poor sweet girl,”he mumbles into your hair. “you’re never allowed to avoid me again.” he states, before kissing the top of your head.

[strangerstilinski]

𝙞𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙖 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨

𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

word count: 2.5k warnings: none really, fluffy ending, steve is kind of a dick, mention of alcohol, gender neutral reader (pls let me know if i missed anything) based on that scene in tasm where peter spins gwen around to kiss her — with just a dash of enemies to lovers

It should go without saying that Steve Harrington is the bane of your goddamned existence. If the two of you aren't at each other's throats, it typically just means that you're both doing your best to pretend the other doesn't even exist.

And, sure, maybe it drives you a little bit insane that he seems to get along just fine with every person in your friend group except for you. It was like you pushed buttons that Steve wasn't even aware he had.

Nancy finds the whole thing amusing, says that Steve's clearly so in love with you that he doesn't know how to handle it. Eddie swears that Steve looks at you with hearts in his eyes, though any time you've caught his stare those ‘hearts’ tended to look a whole lot more like daggers. Argyle and Robin both insist that love and hate tread a very thin line, and eventually, a little push will have the two of you stumbling head over heels into each other's waiting arms. Johnathan tends to stay out of it, but then, he doesn't really need to say anything, because you've seen that look he gives you when he catches you looking a little too long at the moles dotted along the length of Steve's throat, or that stubborn lock of hair that tumbles over his brow bone, or the way his tongue pokes out and his eyes narrow cutely when he's concentrating-

You hate it. You hate Steve. Even now, you swear you hate him, regardless of the way you shamelessly ogle the curve of his bicep when he reaches across the back of the sofa to drape his arm loosely behind Robin's shoulders. You've accepted it. At this point, allowing yourself to admire his stupidly handsome physique was merely reparations for being forced to put up with him on a near-daily basis. Compensation for the never-ending bad attitude that he seemed to direct solely at you.

“Does anyone hear that?” Steve's voice speaks louder than your own suddenly, effectively cutting you off even though you'd been in the middle of a sentence. His eyes meet yours for just a brief second before his gaze is moving elsewhere, “It’s like, this annoying buzzing sound?” He's sitting up a little straighter following his interruption, brows drawing together like he's listening intently for something.

His sudden line of questioning has thoroughly derailed your train of thought. The longwinded story you'd been regaling to the group about a customer at work is cut short, the words dissolving on your tongue as your try to work out what on earth Steve is referring to. Until his interruption, you hadn't heard anything.

“What are you even talking abou-”

“There!” He cuts you off once more, “There it is again! Did you hear that, Robs?” The fingers he nudges into his best friend's ribs makes her squirm away with a deep laugh.

“Are you seriously implying that I'm the-”

“God, you are hearing that, right?” Steve interrupts with an irritatingly pleased grin on his face, “Like nails on a chalkboard-”

Though Robin's laughter isn't actually directed at you, your face burns hotly anyway. A pity-filled smile graces her lips when she meets your gaze after escaping the wrath of Steve's tickling, and the boy's chuckles of amusement only serve to make you grind your teeth together in irritation.

“Real mature, dickhead.” You snap, snatching up the beer you'd set down on the coffee table when Eddie had actually asked you about your day a few minutes before. “I was in the middle of a story.”

“Yeah, no offense, honey, but I don't think any of us were that invested hearing you talk about the ‘big tip’ that some douchebag with a hand tattoo left you.” Steve grumbled with a roll of his eyes, “If your stories weren't so boring, maybe we wouldn't all be sitting here hoping for a hole in the earth to open up under us just so we don't have to keep listening to-”

“Steve, c'mon man-” Eddie tries, though his voice is drowned out by your own.

“Jesus, do you have to be such an asshole all the time?” You snap in Steve's direction.

“I'm just saying,” Steve shrugged, “Probably the only reason he left such a big tip was because pulled the wrong bill out of his wallet. It sure as hell wasn't 'cause of your shining personality.”

“What, and just 'cause you're a jackass that means no man could ever possibly find me appealing?” You bite back.

“Yeah, well, your pretty face doesn't quite make up for your constant need for attention.”

“My need for attention?” You scoff incredilously, beer slamming back down onto the tabletop in front of you as the rest of your friends seem to fade even further into the background. “You're the one who can't stand when the focus is on me for ten fucking seconds.”

“Well I don't care if some prick hit on you at work-” Steve argues, “So, I guess, if that makes me an asshole-”

“It does, as a matter of fact,” You interrupt easily, “Because I'm constantly listening to you whine about your conquest of the week, and I'm able to do so without acting like a fucking-”

“Careful,” Steve hums, cocky little smirk reemerging on his lips, “You're sounding a little jealous, there, honey.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“'S my house,” He returns just as quickly, “How 'bout you fuck off.”

The blood in your veins is full of fire. Your face is burning with rage and your eyes prickle traitorously with frustrated tears, because that customer from your story? That was the highlight of your day, because the rest of it had been a fucking disaster.

You'd slipped on freshly mopped floors and dropped an entire table's drink orders. You'd been forced to finish your shift with sticky, soda pop-soaked socks squelching wetly in your shoes with every step. Your boss had given you shit, even though it was one of your coworkers who had failed to put out the wet floor sign in the first place. You'd burned yourself on a hotplate, twice. And then, after all that, you'd had no choice but to take an ice-cold shower before heading over to Steve's house, because the hot water heater in your decrepit apartment building was apparently broken. Again.

“Y'know what? Fine.”

You're already rising to your feet, wiping the palms of your hands down your jeans to dry the lingering condensation from your beer. You blink furiously to push back the tears that had been pooling at your waterline, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of the turn in your evening.

“Wha-” Steve is watching you with something like concern in his eyes now, “Wh-Where're you goin'?”

“I'm leaving,” You announce, gaze steadfastly avoiding where Steve has removed his arm from around Robin's shoulders so he can sit at the edge of the couch, like he's planning to rise to his own feet at any moment. “I, um. I'll talk to you guys later.”

There are protests from everyone, but you don't bear them any mind. You're already turning on your heel and moving toward the entryway with hurried steps. The front door slams shut behind you before you've even gotten your jacket all the way on. You've still got one arm still struggling to find the hole of your sleeve when you hear the door swing back open behind you.

“Hey! Wait up.”

Steve's voice does make you slow where you've begun to move down the driveway, though you don't turn around. Your steps finally come to a stop when he calls out to you again.

“C'mon, honey wait, wait, wait-”

You blow out a frustrated breath as he finally catches up with you, your arms crossing over your chest like that might somehow put up a physical barrier between the two of you.

“I really don't want to do this with you, Harrington. Alright?” An air of defeat laces your words, one hand coming up to rub at the headache that’s begun to pulse between your brows, “Just.. Not tonight.”

You move to step around him and the heel of your boots click against the pavement once, twice. But then something hooks into the belt loop on your jeans and you're tugged back around. You lose your footing at the unexpected shift in momentum, knees wobbling unsteadily for just a moment before you're twirled back around to face him and then your palms are meeting a firm chest.

The adrenaline has your brain whiting out for just a moment, any and all thoughts screeching to a halt. There’s warmth seeping into your palms from beneath Steve’s tshirt. The racing of your own heart in your ears drowns out the distant sound of laughter and the opening trailers of a movie rental coming from inside. Your eyes are level with his chin, wide gaze locked on his lips as they quirk up at one corner with his gentle smirk. You’re still standing pigeon-toed between his own larger feet, a little off balance but held firmly in place by the wide hand splayed across your waist.

“I'm sorry.” Steve says quietly.

It’s only been a second or two since he dragged you back into his space, and to your surprise, his head dips, just a fraction. Steve brushes his nose against your own, a gentle stroke that sends butterflies in your stomach fluttering wildly. The cool mint clinging to his breath fans out over your face smelling of the gum he’s always chewing and smacking obnoxiously, but the scent this close is intoxicating. The hand he brings up to cradle your jaw is intoxicating. The loose flap of leather on his watch that tickles at the side of your throat. The way he’s leaning in-

The passion he kisses you with, from the moment your lips touch, is intoxicating. It's all-encompassing. You can’t think, and you’re not sure you’re even breathing, but his lips are moving in unhurried synchronization with your own. Your knees are weak. You’re gripping the material of his shirt in your fists just for something to hold onto, but Steve’s arm is curled tight around the curve in your spine now to hold you steady.

His tongue brushes against your lips, licking softly at the seam of your mouth like he's asking for permission. The desperate sound that crawls up your throat at just that quick brush of his tongue nestles in the depths of Steve's brain where he files it away for later. He hitches his arm even tighter at your waist, pulling your stomachs flush until your chest heaves against his own.

Your head is a little fuzzy when your lips separate long enough for you to take a breath, and you’re gasping comically in an effort to fill your lungs. Steve’s quiet chuckle meets your ears, his hand sliding back from your jaw to cup the back of your neck.

“You kissed me.” The words fall from your lips in a whisper of disbelief. Your eyes are still closed, lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks. You’re terrified if you open them even a crack, the entire scene will suddenly fade away around you like some kind of dream. The airy cadence of your voice is partially due to your surprise, but also thanks to the far-too-easy grace with which you've been spun and manhandled and swept entirely off your feet.

“I did,” Steve agrees just as quietly, “I did do that.”

His forehead meets your own as your eyes flutter open and he simply holds you there for a moment, nose dragging across your cheek before he presses another quick kiss to your lips. His head tilts, thumb stroking soft over the side of your throat before his mouth finds yours again, and again. These kisses are different — casual, tender, sweet and unhurried. Like he’s kissing you just because he can.

“You-” Is all you manage to get out before your words are silenced by his lips slotting between your own, but you carry on with barely a pause as you click apart once again, “Y'r still doing it.”

“Mhm.” He hums easily, the sound rumbling beneath your hands on his chest.

“Why-”

Kiss.

“Are you-”

Kiss.

“Kissing me?”

Steve’s breath mingles hotly with your own in the narrow breadth of space between your parted lips, “D’you want me to stop?”

“No. Hell no.”

And there's that perfect smile of his. Straight teeth make an appearance as his lips quirk up at the corner, a breathy spearmint scented laugh that sounds a little too relieved for the casual coolness that he's clearly trying to give off. His mouth opens like he's going to say something, but no words seem to come. Lips parted, throat bobbing as he swallows around the heavy silence weighing down his tongue.

He looks so pretty like this, you think. The light shining above your heads catches in his brown eyes, caramel sparking with flecks of gold and green that you've never noticed before, but you're sure you'll never be able to forget the sight of it now. You're still sharing breaths, faces so close that you can't avoid watching the way his full lashes blink at you dumbly. As if he isn't the one who spun you around and pulled you close and effortlessly gave you the best kiss of your entire life. As if, maybe, he didn't quite expect to make it this far, and now he's at a loss for how to proceed.

You release his shirt from your fist, the fabric crinkled and stretched with how tight you'd been gripping it, only to slide your hand up the back of his neck. The tip of his nose catches the bottom of your own, lips brushing faintly while your hand finds a new home in his hair. The soft strands tangle between your fingers when you give it a gentle tug and push up on your toes to draw yourself impossibly closer.

“If I'd known kissing you was all it took to shut you up, Harrington, I would've done it ages ago.” Your quip lacks its usual bite, but it breaks the silence between you, and it also seems to break Steve out of whatever spell he'd fallen under.

His tongue pokes out to wet his lips as he searches for an appropriate response, “Maybe we'll just have to keep kissing then.”

You find yourself swaying just a little on your feet at the way his eyes flick slow back and forth between your own, “Maybe we will.”

When his lips descend on your own again, it takes ages before he lets you back up for a decent breath of air, and even then he parts from you with obvious reluctance. You're both breathing heavy, lips a little swollen and shining wetly. Steve's expression has a warmth that you realize you've never actually seen directed at you before. Steve smiles at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and suddenly all you can think about is what Eddie has said a hundred times over.

It’s like there are hearts in his eyes.

[cerisereids]

𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

characters i write for

(i no longer take requests, sorry!)

criminal minds: aaron hotchner, spencer reid, derek morgan, emily prentiss, luke alvez

stranger things: eddie munson, steve harrington, robin buckley, nancy wheeler

tasm: peter parker (andrew garfield’s peter only)

bridgerton: benedict, anthony, colin, kate

𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗶𝗱

some bunny special- dad!spencer x fem!reader

please don’t have somebody waiting on you- s1!spencer x bau!reader

lovely to sit between comfort and chaos, part 1- spencer reid x fem!reader

part 2

in the mirror of your eyes, my love, my life- young dad!spencer reid x bau!mom!reader

is it that sweet? i guess so!- later seasons!spencer reid x plus size!liason!reader

time makes you bolder, children get older- young dad!spencer reid x bau!mom!reader

blurbs found under the tag- belle’s blurbs s.r.

𝗮𝗮𝗿𝗼𝗻 𝗵𝗼𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗻𝗲𝗿

we can’t be friends (wait for your love)- complete

part 2

part 3

part 4

blurbs found under the tag- belle’s blurbs a.h.

𝗯𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗰𝘁 𝗯𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗴𝗲𝗿𝘁𝗼𝗻

good old fashioned lover boy- benedict bridgerton x fem!reader

𝘀𝘁𝗲𝘃𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘁𝗼𝗻

blurbs found under the tag- belle’s blurbs s.h.

𝗲𝗱𝗱𝗶𝗲 𝗺𝘂𝗻𝘀𝗼𝗻

the boy is mine- eddie munson x fem!reader

[scorpiomother]

there is a light that never goes out

･ﾟ★ most of these days, i don't get too intimate / why would i let you in? but i think again

pairing: tasm!peter parker x f!reader

summary: you’ve tried to ignore the pestering infatuation you harbor for your fellow camp counselor, but when last day debauchery ensues, the lines between friendship and love blur.

tags: slow burn. summer camp. friends to lovers. pining. alcohol usage.

word count: 4.4k

a/n: mother is back and here is my love letter to the feverish bliss of a season and to everyones favorite muse, peter parker + this only took a broken laptop, nicotine and a full year to finish... so enjoy<3

playlist ☆ masterlist ☆ read on ao3 ☆ kofi

You don’t think it’s possible to feel any warmer, but the mixture of everything is weighing in on you. The blossoming bonfire in accordance with the sultry sun. The tipsy hum in your chest. The occasional graze of Peter’s arm against your shoulder.

Sometimes you can’t bring yourself to look at him and this is one of those times.

Maybe it’s the fact that it’s the last day and you don’t know exactly what to do with yourself. Or it could be the muffled buzz in your chest that’s growing by the minute; telling you to do things you shouldn’t. Admit things you can’t. If you look at him for too long, you’re sure that your better judgment will fade into that tempting hum. 

You squint past the sun rays reflecting off of the lake and focus on all of the small things that don’t mean anything to you. A bottle here, a crushed can there. The flicker and burn of the fire. The new stains on your old Converse.

You search for the next best thing when a beer bottle appears, floating above your lap.

“Your turn,” Peter says.

His voice makes you want to look. It makes you want to say, huh? Then, he would have to repeat himself and you could watch the way his lips move. Instead, you murmur a soft thank you and take the bottle, eyes cemented on the shoreline.

The campers had left in the morning, and yet the feeling of childish abandonment and delight is still overflowing in the empty campgrounds. The handful of twenty-something-year-olds that stayed back for one last night to “clean up” the camp were quick to revel in the sudden freedom. By the time the last bus left with the campers and older counselors, they were already going on a liquor run and starting a bonfire on the shorelines in nothing but their swimwear. And as nice as it all was, you wish the kids were still there. They would distract you from the thoughts of Peter and now, you don’t know what to do when they come.

As you sip on the lukewarm beer, you feel eyes on you. You look up and sure enough, Peter is staring. His eyes are lighter than normal, a sheen like honey, and his expression is almost quizzical. That glint of amusement catches you off guard. 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” he smiles. “I’m just waiting for you to admit that you hate beer.”

“What?” you repeat with more confusion.

“Every time I pass you the bottle you frown.”

You furrow your brows. “No, I don’t.”

“Sure you do. And after you drink, you make a sour face,” he says plainly.

You’re about to protest when Peter reaches for the bottle and takes it from you, his hand skimming against yours in the process. 

“Creep,” you mumble. You drag your fingers along the skin that he touched and try to ignore the burn. "You’ve known me for like, what? Two months? And you think you know me like the back of your hand.”

“I wish,” he shrugs before downing the rest of the beer.

I wish. You’re biting the inside of your cheek now. “I- I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

You can hear the smirk in his voice and when you close your eyes, you can even see it. His closed mouth grin, full of satisfaction and knowing. 

Fuck. 

“I’m gonna get a drink,” you mutter, standing up from the bench.

“‘Cause you hate beer, huh?” 

“‘Cause I’m thirsty.”

“Mhm, alright, Bug,” Peter says, smugly.

You can still feel his eyes on you as you walk towards the cooler by the dock and as much as you want to look back, you don’t.

You rummage through the cooler— a little more frantic than you should be. Beneath all the shitty beer and ice is a thick bottle of margarita mix and you pull it out in triumph. 

“Wow, going for the hard stuff, huh?”

You look up to see Harry standing in front of you with Patron in his right hand and a vape in his left. You scoff, “Says you. This shit is mostly juice anyways.”

Harry settles beside you and watches you pour yourself a cup. He smells like liquor, cologne, and bad news. 

“Make me a cup?” He slurs.

You hum in response.

You don’t trust Harry. Not for any particular reason, but he makes you unsure of yourself and you don’t like that. You fill his cup to the brim and hand it to him carefully.

“I’m surprised Peter isn’t here with you.” 

You roll your eyes. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Ah, come on. You guys are two peas in a pod.”

“He’s my friend.”

“Is he though?”

“What else would he be?”

“Everyone knows you guys have a thing for each other.” 

You’re quiet for a moment, ruminating on his words. Your brain is teetering between joke or not. If he isn’t, then what? 

“Just friends,” you murmur in a way that doesn’t reach him. It sticks in the honeyed air like a mantra for yourself. 

Ever since the start of camp, Peter and you had been attached at the hips. You were both the new counselors, whereas everyone else had known each other from the year prior. During counselor orientation and the team-building exercises, you gravitated toward each other, sharing awkward laughs and stupid little comments. As the weeks went by, you got closer and closer. You had just met the guy and he was probably the closest you ever got to a person.

“So, that doesn’t bother you at all?” Harry raises a brow.

You look back and Gwen has replaced you on the bench. Peter’s looking at her with such adoration in his face that makes you feel a pang of jealousy. It spreads through your body like a fever.

His cheeks are full of warmth, laughter bellowing out from him so easily. The subtle flex of his bicep has you staring a little longer than you should. When he catches your stare, you mean to look away but the numbing heat makes you forget.

“What? No. Why would it?” You murmur, turning your attention back to Harry.

“Alright. Well, I’ll help you out. Just ‘cause it’s the last day,” Harry says before pouring an ungodly amount of Patron in your cup.

“Oh- I, um. Okay. Thank you,” you stutter. 

Harry takes his bottle and taps it to your cup. “To friends.”

“To friends,” you mumble under your breath before throwing back a couple of gulps.

Harry starts to talk about nonsense that you can no longer concentrate on. Your ears had zoned in on the laughter behind you, trying to figure out what was so funny to Peter. Have you ever made him laugh like that? 

There’s an invisible string tugging at your face, telling you to look back. Soak up the last of the daylight and the last of Peter, even if it hurts. You want to give into the compulsion, like looking at him is a tick you can’t help, but your attention falls on the dainty bumblebee fluttering innocently in the space between you and Harry.

“Oh, shit,” Harry yelps. His face is full of horror as the small thing dances around him.

“It’s just a bee,” you reassure him. 

Rather than calming down, Harry attempts to pull an ungraceful version of the matrix, bumping into you in the process. 

“Harry!” 

“Fuck, I’m sorry! I just- Fuck!” Before Harry could finish his apology, he’s running far from the docile insect and you.

“Fuckin’ Harry,” you mutter to yourself, looking at the stain of Red40 and Patron on your shirt and then to Peter.

He’s too preoccupied with Gwen to notice the mishap.

Like a small child, it hurts. The possessiveness sticks onto your skin like humidity. 

You down what’s left in your cup in one go and start walking to your cabin.

It was that second week of camp when your heart first succumbed to Peter. The two of you were on night watch and he entertained you with a game of Would You Rather while everyone else on the campgrounds slept soundly and the night insects trilled. 

Would you rather get stung by a bee or watch Isabella all by yourself? 

Give me the bee, you deadpanned.

Ouch, I’m gonna tell her what you said.

You wouldn’t, you scoffed.

You’re right, I won’t. That kid would probably start biting us both. 

One moment you’re laughing and the next, he’s whispering, wait, hold on. Stay still. So you do. You stayed as still as the night and suddenly, his hand was inching closer and closer to your face until his fingers grazed against your cheek. He held an eyelash in front of your lips and gently said, make a wish.

You hesitantly whispered a delicate oh, okay before absentmindedly blowing the eyelash away. 

I hope it was a good one, he grinned.

It was, you lied.

Everything after was hazy, with constant flashes of making a wish. If you could do it again, you would tell yourself to get a grip and not waste such a precious wish like you just did. If you could do it again, you would wish that Peter would grab that eyelash off your cheek again and again and again.

You’re already feeling the drink make its way to your head as you head on over to your cabin. You underestimated Harry’s heavy hand and the heat is working against you. Annoyingly, the wet shirt is enough to cool you down.

You wonder where the time went. It’s overwhelming to think about, especially now that you’re tipsy. Time is slipping through your fingers and you don’t know how you’re supposed to go back to the city and let this all turn into a memory— let Peter turn into a memory. 

In all honesty, you’re not so sure that you can. Eight weeks of children watching and sun soaking. Eight weeks of Peter and all of those almost kisses (two to be exact). Where was it supposed to go? In a shoebox of memories, farther away than you’d like it to be?

There’s a swelling feeling in your chest that quickly dissipates when Peter comes running behind you.

“Hey, hey, where did you go?”

You want to be spiteful and ask him what happened to Gwen. Instead, you bite your tongue.

“I’m right here, Bear,” you say.

“Well, yeah. I mean, what happened?”

“I just wanted to get something to drink and I-”

“You spilled all over yourself.”

“No, I didn’t. Harry did and I need a new shirt.”

“My cabin is right here,” he points out.

“It’s okay, I have my own clothes.”

“Bug, stop being stubborn.” He grabs your wrist, and you have no choice but to stop and look at him. The swelling returns as his brown eyes try to read you. “Trust me.”

“Okay?” 

You sigh. “Okay.”

His cabin is identical to yours. Three beds. Creaky wood all over. Light smell of mildew. You were there once before but you try not to think about it too much.

“Here, sit,” he says, patting the mattress.

Like a loyal dog, you obey quietly.

While Peter rustles through the drawers, mumbling where did I put it? you gaze at the Polaroids decorating the wall like his own personal scrapbook.

You notice one particular photo with you in it. You were setting up the projector for the first Movie Mondays. That night The Princess and the Frog played, the lights flickering green and blue on the flimsy screen that took you and Peter too long to put up. 

Oh my god, you sobbed halfway into the movie. Ray, the firefly, was singing Evangeline to his star, and it was enough to trigger an embarrassing fit out of you.

Are you crying? Peter whispered.

I’ve never wanted to be a bug so bad before, you laughed pitifully. You wrapped your arms around your legs and let the stray tears fall on your knees. You wanted to pout and blame your hysteria on Peter. He didn’t know it but he had an annoying habit of turning you into a child. 

You’re pretty when you cry, he said.

With your head on your knees, you bit your lip. You- you’re stupid.

I don’t think that’s what you say when someone gives you a compliment.

You’re making fun of me.

Am not, Bug, he said for the first time. 

With teary eyes, you looked for the truth on his face. His eyes softened. Without noticing, you licked your lips and you swore he did the same. It happened so fast you couldn’t remember and suddenly you were wondering if you leaned in, would he do the same? Before you could test your theory, there was a tap on your shoulder.

I think I just ate peanuts, Susie said.

What?

My throat is itchy.

Oh!

Luckily, little Susie was okay, but you weren’t. That night you couldn’t sleep. That look on his face stuck with you. If you were crazy, you would’ve thought that he wanted to kiss you. 

Still, you’re unsure.  

You open your mouth to ask him if he remembers that night, but he interrupts you.

 “I kind of miss them,” he says, head still in the dresser. 

“Your army of fanboys?”

“Yeah, if you want to call them that,” he laughs. 

“It was pretty sweet how they looked up to you.”

“Maybe, I should start a cult.”

You snort. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“Why do you hate me?” Peter looks back at you and tilts his head with a boyish smile that makes you look away.

He returns his attention to the drawers and you begin to get impatient.

“You know I don’t need anything special, right? I just need… A shirt.”

”Bug,” he says firmly. “When did you get so bratty?”

“I- You’re taking a long time,” you redden.

You tap your foot against the old wood and stare at the back of his head bobbing and searching. His hair is overgrown, longer than it was when you first met him. If you were brave enough, you would run your hands through it.

“If you think about it, we were basically paid to be cult leaders for eight weeks,” he says.

“Oh. We’re still talking about cults. Great.”

“How does one go about making a cult anyways?”

“Hold on, let me just look for a cult leader’s TED talk.”

“So sarcastic, Bug.” 

“Only for you, Bear,” you joke.  

“Good.”

Your ears turn hot and you’re licking your lips again. The raspiness in his voice feels all too serious. 

You’re silent again. It’s quiet enough you can hear the Earth past Peter’s search. Trees rustle. The wind caresses the grass. If you listen hard enough, you swear you can hear sunshine, but maybe it’s just the alcohol. Eventually another drawer shuts.

“Here,” he says. He finally turns around and stands up with a shy expression on his face that makes you smile. In his hand is a red and blue tie dye shirt he made in the early weeks of camp.

When you reach for it, you zone in on the beaded bracelet on his wrist, a silly little nothing that you made for him a week ago. You might as well have threaded the beads to say IHAVEACRUSHONYOU, but the nickname you called him was safer.

You partially regret the bracelet as the cringey gift screams elementary innocence, but now you had something of his. You were even.

“Thank you,” you say.

“Yeah. I’ll meet you outside.”

“It’s fine,” you say before you can think. “I mean it’ll only take three seconds. You’ve seen me without a shirt before, hah.”

“Someone’s drunk,” he chuckles. 

You turn away before he can see you blush. “Not really…”

In one swift motion, you sling off the stained shirt and drape it along the end of his bed frame and pick up Peter’s replacement shirt.

“Oh, it’s healing nicely,” Peter says, surprised.

You look back in an attempt to look at the once opened wound on your back. “Thanks to you, I guess.”

Due to peer pressure from freshly graduated fourth graders, you had jumped off the cliff right into the lake and your back grazed against a submerged rock. It wasn’t anything serious. Barely deep enough for medical attention and the adrenaline from the jump turned you numb.

It was the first time he touched you, really touched you. A deliberate palm to your side rather than an unintentional graze of the knuckles. It made you think of other ways you could hurt yourself just so the two of you could play an innocent game of doctor.

I can’t just drink this by myself, you whined. 

I’m about to put a needle through you, you really want me to drink alcohol right now?

I trust you, you admitted unwillingly.

Once he stitched you up, you sat together side by side on his bed with your shirt still over your neck and your bathing suit now cold on your skin. He pressed his hand on your thigh, saying all better. It was enough to warm you up. Enough to make you forget why you never kissed him. Enough to make you want to.

He squeezed the fleshy part of your thigh, and you exhaled. Peter.

It’s Dr. Parker to you.

One moment you’re whispering, stupid, and the next your nose was grazing his with two parting lips just barely touching. His own breath matched yours. Cinnamon, and booze. Warm and wanting. You gently nudged your nose against his before you could come to.

With lips hovering and agape and adrenaline clouding your mind, you thought he was about to kiss you, for sure this time. But when Gwen knocked on the door, calling out to Peter, kissing was the last thing you wanted to do. The only option was to run away. Run back into that lake and sink all the way to the bottom.

When you throw the shirt on, the fabric grazes against the healing scar. The cotton is soft and weightless. You could immediately smell the familiar evergreen and pine. 

“Red and blue look good on you,” Peter says and you have to force yourself to not think anything of it. Friends compliment each other. No big deal.

“You should keep it,” he adds and then you’re thinking, okay, kind of a big deal. But you don’t have it in you to protest. If this was the only thing you could get from Peter, then you were happy. Almost satisfied.

“Alright,” you say and wear it like a promise ring.

By the time you two make it back to the lake, the sun is nearly set. The bonfire melts into the fire in the sky, a burnt orange streak floating above the lake. Smoke and char wafts in the air and you notice everyone huddled up in a circle. There’s beer bottles surrounding them like they were partaking in some kind of ritual. As you get closer, you see the single bottle laying on its side in the middle of the crowd. 

“What are they, twelve?” Peter whispers as Flash and Felicia kiss.

They don’t notice you two. They’re far too gone and enamored to see beyond themselves, and you’re grateful. Being the bystander looking in was better than watching Peter kiss someone else.

“Wanna go somewhere else?” he nudges.

You nod your head in silence and follow him like a lost puppy.

You two keep to the lakeshore and walk side by side until you can barely see the stray embers of the bonfire in the air. 

A mile away, you eventually reach the west pier. It’s unsoiled with beer and degeneracy, the moon purifying the fresh water and wood. The two of you sit on the dock, feet dangling in the chilling water. By the time the night completely glossed over, the alcohol had too.

“It’s so… Quiet,” you say and suddenly you fear your voice may disturb the stillness and ripple through the water. 

“I like it.”

“Just kind of eerie, ya know?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll scare the monsters away for you,” he teases.

Peter places one hand on your back and rubs small circles, a new type of warmth now rippling through you. 

Without realizing it, you began to mindlessly kick your feet through the lake, ripples after ripples reaching out to touch the earth beyond. The wrinkles of water pulsate. Your heart does the same with each circle of his hand.

“Should’ve got another beer before we left,” you eventually murmur.

“I’m not fun enough for you?”

I just don’t know what to do with myself.

“You’re less fun without your little cult,” you tell him. 

“I’m retiring,” he tells you.

“Oh, God forbid.”

“I’m tired,” he says. “Let me be tired.”

When he lays his head in your lap, you don’t move. You barely breathe.

You wish you could feel the calm, shudder and move on, exhale the hummingbird out of your chest, and be done with it. 

It’s heavier than you can manage. The ease and calm of him scares you. He makes a home in you so terribly easy, and you can barely touch him without feeling dizzy.

Peter sighs. “What am I going to do without you, Bug?”

You wish he didn’t say things like that.

You get out a shaky, “I don’t know.”

But you do know. Peter’s going to be okay without you. You’ll just be some girl he used to know and move on just fine. But you on the other hand? You don’t know. You don’t want to.

It aches.

I’m tired. Let me be tired, you beg the cruel universe.

It twinkles in response. Ripples right through you. 

Your hands are in his hair. You’re dizzy, but you do it anyway. There’s a soft moan coming from Peter so you play and pull and tug, letting all the anxiety leave your hands like kneading dough. You’re gentle because Peter is gentle. Rubbing your back. Stitching up a silly mistake. And even breaking your heart. He does it so gently, you don’t know if he has a cruel bone in his body. Even if he was cruel, you’re not sure if it would offend you.

He closes his eyes. You drag your nails against his temple and roam freely. The night sky reminds you of fireflies and popcorn. Slow breaths and wishes. You count the dimples on the moon. Little distractions to ground you, even now. 

The moment feels infinite. Almost infinite, like those almost kisses. So close, yet so fleeting. You stop trying to make it stay. You let it ripple through you.

You feel a little brave.

“Let’s go swimming,” he says, eyes closed. He can smell it on you— the braveness, you think.

Your hands freeze.“Now?”

“When else?”

“It’s cold.”

“I’ll keep you warm, Bug,” he says, this time with his brown eyes wide, open, and tempting. “Trust.”

He stands up and holds his hand out for you before you can protest. Whenever he mentions trust, it does something to you. The cut above your shoulder blade is trust scarred onto your body. Were you supposed to stray from your habits now? On the last day?

You open your mouth but then your hand is in his and he’s guiding you to the obsidian. 

He takes off his shirt and shorts, throwing them on the dock. You follow suit, and by the time you fold the tie dye shirt into a neat square, Peter’s already in, yelping, laughing, coaxing.

You shiver and when you��re in the water, you shiver some more. 

“I hate you.”

“I know.”

“Is this your big plan to murder me? Drown me and run back to everyone else and play spin the bottle?” you grumble, less than satisfied.

“Duh,” he smiles proudly.

You’re treading water, feet barely reaching the sand, while Peter stands tall, the moon illuminating his handsome face.

“Why didn’t you wanna play spin the bottle?” you say impulsively. 

It shocks both you and Peter.

“Did you?”

“I asked you first.”

His brows knit together. “I don’t want to see you kissing someone else.”

Your brain short circuits. A laugh coils in your stomach and you want to ask if Ashton Kutcher is going to come out of the woods with his crew and yell, Gotcha! It makes more sense than what you think he’s implying. 

“What do you mean by that?” you ask.

“What do you want it to mean?”

Your limbs suddenly burn from trying to stay afloat.

“Do you need me to show you, bug?” he says.

His hand is out in front of you again like a life raft. You let him take you, pull you in his gravity. Show me. You glide in the water until you can feel Peter’s breath on your face and your chest is heaving against his. Show me.

Peter wraps his arm around your lower back and your legs have nowhere else to go but wrapped around him. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Still need me to show you?”

 Show me. Show me. Show me.

“I think so,” you say so delicately you’re not so sure he hears you, but then his lips are on yours and the sun comes back in the dead of night, blooming in your ribcage.

It happens fast. He doesn’t let you hesitate, retreat back like the scared creature you are. He knows you. He kisses like he knows you. He keeps his promise. I’ll keep you warm. 

Soft, tender, and close to loving. His lips overlap yours and your gripping onto his back like this moment could dissolve in this lake. He grips you right back like you’ll run. You could. You might.

He deepens the kiss, more want, more need, less tenderness. He sucks on your bottom lip and the strength to run right out of you. 

Your hands wander feverishly. From his back to the crook of his neck and then his hair.

Now that he has you here like this, it makes things more difficult. 

You feel like a firefly. This small little thing of shine and glow, jutting around in a mason jar with Peter’s name sharpied on the top. 

His lips linger for a second longer and then he pulls away, resting his forehead on yours.

“Bug,” Peter says.

“Hmm?”

“You’re going to call me, right?”

His lips move in slow motion.

“Right,” you say.

[lovelettersforthedamned]

Hey bestie!!!

Saw your ask box was open 👀 👀

Anyways, could you please write something about friends to lovers with tasm!peter? Been craving it lately seriously....

Thank you so much!

Have a great day/night/whatever time it is for you when you read this!

xoxo, anon🩷

something short and silly!! i'll write a deliciously long friends to lovers fic soon, but here's this for now!!!

“There’s no reason for it to be this fucking hot right now,” Peter’s voice is grumbled as he lays shirtless and on his back on your floor. 

You chuckle but roll your eyes at his ‘misery’. “Maybe if you came up here and helped me with the air conditioner instead of complaining, you’d feel much better soon,” you yell behind you. Beads of sweat are falling from your forehead as each little screw on this machine brings you closer to the edge.

Peter peels himself from the floor and slumps his way towards your struggling frame. “You know,” he starts, “you could’ve just asked.” A hint of a smirk laced within the tone of his voice. 

The weight of the air conditioning box significantly lightens as Peter lifts the other side while you carefully work at the edges. You don’t choose to respond, because honestly, you’re hot and irritated and have close to zero patience for your friend's foolishness at the moment. 

Your lack of response causes Peter to silence himself and his small laughs. He peers over and sees how focused you are on bringing cool air into your small apartment. The only words he receives from you are ‘okay, push’. As he slides the box into the small opening of your living room window, you sigh a breath of relief. 

“Here goes nothing,” you sigh, switch the button on, and crank it to its highest setting. And just like that, you two have struck gold when ice-cold air smacks you in the face. You swear a pornographic moan leaves your lips, but you don’t care. Closing your eyes, you bask in the cold. 

As you open your eyes and turn towards Peter, you expect him to be in a similar position, but you’re met with his own eyes. He’s completely entranced, and it seems like he won’t stop. 

Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion, “What’s wrong with you?” 

“You’re so pretty,” he confesses, his eyes still scanning over your face. 

Your eyes widen, “What?”

“What?”