#tasm!peter x gn!reader

[hoe4hotchner]

can you write a blurb with tasm!peter with scenario 4 and dialogues 4 & 68?

4. Falling asleep on the couch, waking up to not only a blanket around them, but their partner squeezed in behind them.

4. “You’re adorable. god i love you.“ 

68. “Getting sleepy, aren’t we?" 

It was pitch black. Rain hammering against the windows of your apartment. You were trying to stay awake, but it was hard after such a long day at work. A day at work where your boss had been after you. A day at work where your coworkers had let you do all the work. Yet, it was just another normal day at your job.

Your eyes were fluttering, losing consciousness more and more with each second. You didn't know how long you could stay up.

Peter was out in the kitchen, trying his absolute best to not burn the popcorn this time. He always did.

"Getting sleepy, aren't we?" You could sense the smirk on Peter's lips as you felt his presence in the frame of the door. But not really having the energy to actually look at him.

"Nuh." You mumbled, your head resting on the arm of the couch, cushioning your cheek from the hard wooden frame underneath the soft padding.

It didn't take long before your soft snores filled the air, your legs tucked carefully under your body.

Peter smiled as he saw your peaceful form, curled up and looking like the most angelic thing he had ever seen.

"You're adorable. God, I love you." Peter muttered under his breath. His smile only grew wider as he heard the small grunt escaping your lips. A sigh of contentedness. Peter helped your body relax as he unfolded your lips onto the couch, stretching your legs.

He knew you would wake up in pain if you stayed curled up in the tight ball you usually managed to make yourself into.

With a blanket picked up from the wicker basket next to the couch, Peter crawled in behind you, draped the blanket over your bodies, and buried his head against your neck. He too was tired, but couldn't sleep.

You woke up the next morning, feeling the soreness from the couch on each and every one of your limbs. But something was different from the times you'd fallen asleep on the couch before.

Turning your head, you spotted your partner, instantly feeling loved and cared for. As awful as work and life could be to you, Peter always knew just how to take care of you.

[evsstolenhearts]

Summary: Peter seems to be jealous of a plushie

TASM!Peter parker x gn!reader | roughly 500 words

Warnings: none? Lemme know if there is any, as well as typos! :]

A/N: totally not my first full fic on my account that has nothing to do with spiderman

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆

Hours prior Peter left to go patrol, leaving you to do what you want in his apartment. So, now you lay in Peter's bed, scrolling on your phone as you doze in and out of sleep. While warm under the covers in Peters hoodie, your plushie is held tightly in your arms.

At some point in the night, you completely fall asleep. Which is destroyed by someone trying to take your plushie.

"Shhh, go back to sleep baby..." the voice indicating this person is your boyfriend, Peter.

"Peter!" You groan and roll over, taking the stuffed animal with you, "stop trying to take him."

While you close your eyes and hold the plushie tight, Peter crawls the rest of the way onto the bed, having at some point changed out of his spider-man suit and into sweats and a t-shirt while you slept.

"I'm not trying to take him, I'm just..." he pauses to find an excuse, "...looking at him."

While talking, Peter is behind you, half up on one elbow as he trys to wrangle the plushie from you, clearly not using all his strength in chance of ripping it.

"Looks at him from a distance." You grumble and roll onto your stomach, now on top of the stuffed animal.

Peter dramatically plops flat down on the bed, staring holes into the soft fabric that's barely visible. Moments pass and it stays silent, until you finally speak up.

"Why do you want him?" You turn your head to glare half heartedly at your boyfriend as he continues to stare down the plushie.

"Hes stealing my job." Peter says, dead serious.

"Your job?" Your glare breaks as you smile, now more amused than anything.

"My job." He reiterates.

"Which is?" Rolling over to face Peter, the adorable face in the plushie staring back at him.

"Cuddling you." Peter says with full confidence. He works quickly to grab the plushie out of your hands, throwing it across the room.

"Hey!" You yell through laughter as he replaces the plushie, placing his arms around your waist, head squished on your chest, and legs being entangled with yours. The blankets having also moved off your body with all the commotion.

"Could have done this thing called asking you know." You wrap one arm around him, as one hand gently scratches his scalp. "Didn't have to throw my child across the room."

"Theres no fun in that." Peter mumbles into your skin with a faint smile, eyes already closed, and much more visibly relaxed.

Without continuing to try and have a conversation with the obviously sleepy thief, you close your eyes and attempt to fall asleep along with him.

Masterlists

[underoospeterparker]

you said Peter Parker I’m HERE.

what about tasm Peter with reader who gets stressed out over something, maybe going slightly nonverbal. and whatever task reader is trying to do he’ll help doing it step by step, and explaining everything that happens quietly even if it’s obvious and asking lots of questions and giving options to make u feel more in control <3 and generally just being a perfect bf !!

he's so boyfriend coded i wanna scream!!!

peter parker x gn!reader

"(Y/N)?" You felt Peter's hand skim over your back, soothing strokes up and down that had you relaxing slightly in his arms. You leaned forward, however, you continued pressing violently at the keys on your laptop in a desperate attempt to finish your essay.

You squeezed your legs together on Peter's lap, pulling your computer closer to your chest. "Hey." His voice drew you back to the present, to his fingers scratching at your scalp. "Bub, you wanna take a break?"

When you shook your head, Peter frowned, and you felt guilty for being the one to put it there. Not guilty enough, though, because you continued to type on your document regardless of Peter's pleas.

"You've been working for ages," he commented, kneading gently at the fat of your stomach. He smiled when he felt you start to go lax in his arms, but it vanished when you immediately got up from his lap in search of another, less distracting location to finish off your essay.

"Honey," he called, then got up entirely to follow you. "Please, just ten minutes, alright? It's not good to be studying for too long. Is that okay?"

At this, you looked up at him from the sofa on which you had plopped yourself on. "I don't know," you whispered, and Peter cooed softly at your indecision.

"That's okay, sweetheart." He paused for a second. "Do you want a hug, maybe?" He murmured quietly, trying not to frighten you.

You nodded, and he was quick to wrap you up in his hold, arms stretching around your back, rubbing diligently when you buried your head into his chest. You stayed there for a while, and Peter let you, knowing you needed the hug especially now.

When you pulled away, he did too, but not before kissing your forehead and interlocking your hands with his. "Okay?" His whisper was soft.

Bobbing your head up and down, you motioned for him to sit next to you on the sofa.

"Do you need some help?"

You nodded, and Peter grinned, a smile that brightened his entire face and made you want to kiss it off. "You should've just asked, baby. You know I'll always help."

He took the laptop off your lap, putting it on his instead, so you rested your head on his shoulder while he looked over your work. He noticed you starting to drift off into sleep, your eyes shutting and then opening again.

Peter pressed another kiss to the side of your head. "Y' can rest your eyes for a little, honey. I'll wake you up in a bit. Just relax for now."

[thewriterg]

𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫

pairing(s); peter parker x gn!reader, can be read as tasm or mcu peter

summary; With exams less than a week away poor dietary decisions, unhealthy sleep habits, and cramming everything you’ve learned into different sockets of your brain was on your radar but you and peter always pull through —flufftober day; 3—

word count; 800+

warning(s); fluff, kisses, pet names, sleepy couple, and language

playlist; sweater weather by the neighborhood

A/n:—GIFs; @kitherondale & @cherienymphe— me when I listened to sweater weather and didn’t make me want to rip my hair out my scalp; 🙀

The wind blew into Peter's dimly lit room he sat at his desk glasses resting on the bridge of his nose laptop propped open the continuous sound of keys typing while his fingers danced along the board with a sudden halt before they continued in a melodic manner

Click-click-click-crunch-click-click click-crunch- click-cli-tap-tap-tap-tap-

You on the other hand lied on your stomach on the comfort of the bed the cool sheets under your skin engulfing you fully your nose in textbook quite literally as it lied under your chin whole you read over the section writing down key points to drill into your brain later humming a tune from your throat of a song that you remember faintly, that you couldn't quite get out of your head.

Peter could feel the heat rushing to his face and he was suddenly very grateful for the lack of bright light in his room as one of his hands rested on your knees the other typing against the keys of his laptop that same comforting noise

You were up from your position off the bed trailing behind Peter's chair he finished typing his last few words before turning his attention towards you a welcoming gaze looking over your features as you slid next to him shuffling awkwardly in the chair that was too small to fit you both before you settled on the potion of you leaning against the arm of the chair, your legs thrown over the brunettes lap, and your head resting against his shoulder

Click-click-click-click-click-tap-tap-tap-click-click

Suddenly he was jerking in his seat as your cold hands pressed against his stomach recovering quickly so he didn't drop you while you snickered into his shoulder

“Bug boy can't handle a little cold?” You teased and if Peters face wasn’t red before it was beet now as he huffed with a roll of his eyes playfully

“Spiders die in the fall Y/n” He gasped playfully in mock offense and you could hear the smile in his voice without looking directly at him and you hummed in response playing with the loose thread of his sweater curled it around pinky before pulling downward for it to unravel in a loose spiral as you repeated the process

“I have to go dress shopping for your funeral, get one of those big church hats” You teased and the pale boy was gasping again with more seriousness to his tone

“Not the hat, im putting in my will that no one is allowed to wear obnoxious hats at my funeral it's a disrespect” Peter said matter-of-factly as holding back laughter in his throat occasionally pausing to get get his sentence out before he could turn into a laughing mess

“I'll be at the door with a basket snatching hats” You stated seriously before a second passed and you were both falling into a laughing fit that’s blended into the rustling trees outside the sound slipping through the open window seal

While you both settled after a moment you went to stand to go back to your work but Peter had grabbed onto the back of you he shirt In protest before you could get far looking at you with a pout

“We’ve been working for two hours we deserve a break, come on.” With a small huff you nodded before returning to your original position before letting a yawn take over your body resting your head on Peter’s shoulder as he swung you both side to side and soon he felt you lean into him a little more and listened into your heartbeat get a little slower

The vigilante couldn’t tell how much had passed but the sun was just setting when he had last check and now stars were in the sky he found a rhythm in your fanning breath against his neck

Peters attention shifted to his opening door rushing to shush his aunt with a finger to his lips and wide eyes which she visibly cringed at while nodding

“Just letting you know that I’m getting started on dinner and I just wanted to know if they were staying” She whispered apron secure around her frame and hair up on the back of her neck in a bun

“I should probably get them home curfew is soon” He whispered in response

“You know you’re a really good partner Peter” May whispered and before the boy could respond she was out of the room with the gentle shutting of the door following after her

“A good partner huh?” You mumbled tiredly and once again Peter was a red as he’d ever been

©2023 thewriterg spooktober do not copy, translate, or modify.

[moonstruckme]

https://www.tumblr.com/moonstruckme/742320236814041088/dude-we-know-that-peter-makes-his-own-suit-right?source=share

Well, gender neutral is fine by me. Actually, I just like to read your fic, so I have no problem with the gender part. As long it's you who write it. I'm 100% sure you'll rock it

Thank you sweetheart! Hope you like it :)

tasm!Peter Parker x gn!reader ♡ 733 words

Morning light is pouring in through the cracks in Peter’s blinds, laying itself out in slats over the floor and reaching for the opposite wall, when you stumble out of the bathroom. It’s a signifier of your ill fate. 

“Fuck, shit,” you mumble to yourself, putting a piece of bread in the toaster and grabbing your lunch from the fridge. You know you’ve half-assed fixing your hair and you’ve still got crust around your eyes, but appearances are no longer the priority. 

When Peter pads out of the bedroom, stretching his arms over his head with his plaid pajama bottoms just grazing the floor, you’ve got one shoe on and your toast clenched between your teeth like a bit. You think you probably look sleep-addled and half rabid, but his brown hair looks adorably mussed and the buttery morning light kisses his skin like it likes him best. He smiles at you, soft and lazy. 

“Late start again?”

Your response is muffled by the toast in your mouth. Peter carefully pinches it between two fingers and removes it so you can speak. 

“One more time?” 

“I said,” you huff, not at him but at your adrenaline-cursed fingers as they fumble your shoelaces, “that not all of us have cushy jobs with flexible hours.”

“Sorry.” He sounds like he half means it, crouching down beside you to thumb at your chin with his free hand. “Hold on, you’ve got toothpaste.”

You don’t know if it’s a ruse and you don’t really care, the soft warmth of his lips connecting with yours is plenty good enough for you. You tug the knot on your shoe tight as you pull away, taking your toast back from him. 

“You got your lunch?” Peter asks you, rising and going for the coffee machine. 

“Mhm,” you say through a bite. 

“Water?” 

You swallow, shouldering your bag. “Yup.” 

“Good, good.” He leans against the counter as the coffee machine rumbles to life, regarding you with still-sleepy eyes. “Actually, c’mere. I need another.” 

“I really have to go,” you laugh, but oblige him, darting over for another quick peck.

Peter does his best to draw it out, palming your face and kissing your bottom lip softly, but you drag yourself away. You try not to think too hard about the light scratch of his stubble against your chin as you grab your keys from by the door. 

“One more,” he begs. 

“You can have it later.” 

“Wait—hold on just a sec.” 

“No, I actually have to go.” 

You go for the door handle, but webbing attaches itself to your wrist, forcing your hand away. You look at your boyfriend, incredulous. 

“Pete! I’m seriously gonna be late.” 

“No, I know, I know.” He hustles toward you, taking your arm in his hand. “But your shirt’s messed up, baby.” 

“What?” You look down, and your sleeve is torn from your wrist to halfway up your forearm. “Shit.” 

“It’s all good,” Peter reassures you, peeling the sticky webbing off you before backing away towards your bedroom. “Just take it off.” 

You do, clumsy fingers nearly ripping out the buttons as you go. “I totally forgot, I snagged this on a door handle last week.” You’ve already taken your arm out of one sleeve when you freeze. “Peter? I don’t have any other work tops.” 

“Easy, I gotcha.” He comes back in with one of your other tops, the one you’d burnt a hole in the back of last week. “You can wear this, I just finished with it.” 

“Yes!” You grab it, pecking him on the lips euphorically. “Thank you!” 

“No sweat.” Your boyfriend sounds smug, but given the circumstances you think you can allow it. He picks up the other shirt from where you’ve dumped it on the floor. “I’ll fix this one while you’re at work today so you can have it for tomorrow, cool?” 

“That would be so cool,” you agree, hastily buttoning up the replacement top before shouldering your bag again. “Thanks, Pete. Are you sure you have time for that?” 

He shrugs, chucking the torn shirt onto the couch. “One of the perks of having a cushy job with flexible hours,” he says. 

You groan, and Peter laughs, catching your chin one more time before you get out the door. This time, you indulge him in a longer kiss. You’ll definitely be late, but you figure he’s earned it.

[justsomerandomfanfic]

A Quarter Past Ten - Peter Parker (Andrew) X GN Reader

Title: A Quarter Past Ten

Peter Parker (Andrew) X GN Reader

Additional Characters: Random made-up book characters

Requested By: Anon!

WC: 1,929

Warnings: Suggestive, Fabio-esque books, Peter's shocked by your book's contents, playful biting?, teasing, flirting, banter, nicknames, very brief mentions of death, italics, and fluff

It was raining. You could hear the soft pitter-patter against the roof and the glass of your bedroom window. It sounded lovely, soothing, almost like a lullaby; though, you weren’t tired. You were lounging in your bed, leaning against your plush headboard, with your equally plush, blue comforter over your bottom half; wearing one of Peter’s hoodies that you may or may not have stolen three weeks prior.

You were hardly seen without the navy blue, zip-up hoodie. It had become your second skin. It was basically your comfort blanket for when Peter went off into the night - or day for that matter - to save the people of New York as the Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man. Peter would sometimes joke around with you - knowing he'd never get it back - that you should at least wash it, and you do, you just make sure to wash it when you're at Peter's place, so it continued to smell like him. In all seriousness, the scent of Peter was what made you feel safe - because it smelt like home.

Speaking of the Spiderling, he was cozily laying sideways on your bed, legs dangling off of it as he laid his head on your lap. His eyes were closed, his chest was rising with every breath, and his hair was slightly messed up from the way you were continuously running your fingers through it. He looked peaceful even though he wasn't sleeping or napping. He was trying too, but as usual, his mind was racing faster than his body was willing. And as always, you wanted to help him stay calm.

So you did what any partner would do; you brushed his hair back from his forehead and smoothed down the hair at the top of his head. Leaning forward, you pressed a small kiss onto his forehead, right between his eyebrows before going back to the book in your free hand; your pinkie and thumb holding it open as you carefully entered the next chapter.

"What time is it?" Peter's soft voice spoke up, making you blink away from the words on the page, glancing down at him, to the alarm clock on your bedside table, and back to your book.

"A quarter past ten... So, ten fifteen." You muttered, keeping your voice at the same calming level as his. "You staying the night?" You then asked, wetting your bottom lip before lifting your hand from Peter's hair and turning the page before returning your hand back into his hair. 

It was silent for a moment as he shifted to his side, his nose pressing against your hoodie-covered stomach, "I'm staying," He let out a big sigh, his arms coming up to wrap around your body, fingers linking together behind you. "Unless you're gonna kick me out."

You huffed out a small laugh, pushing the hairs from his forehead that migrated there after he moved; slightly static. "I'm not kicking you out. That would be quite rude of me, wouldn't it? Out into the cold and rain?" You mused, glancing down at him to see the corners of his lips twist into a grin, and you returned his smile with your own.

"Yeah... It would be pretty rude of you," He replied, letting out a small sigh as he spoke while moving his shoulder slightly. "Kicking your poor boyfriend out into the cold and rain. To die."

You sputtered out a laugh, shaking your head lightly at his words as you looked away from your book and down at him, meeting his gaze, "You wouldn't die... You can't even get sick, Pete."

"Still," Peter shut his eyes once more, "It'll be on your conscience if something happens."

You let out a small scoff, looking away from him again, only to meet his eyes once more, "You so sure about that, my love?" Your voice was teasing now, playful in its tone as your free hand came up to rest on his cheek, caressing it softly.

Peter lightly rolled his eyes, subconsciously nuzzling his cheek into your hand before he suddenly raised your hoodie and shirt slightly, just at your ribcage. You watched, chuckling lightly, an eyebrow raised as Peter then shuffled closer, his cold nose pressing up against the warm skin of your stomach; and you could tell that he was smiling.

"What are you doing?" You asked, laughing through your words, and shifting in your seat as his nose tickled the skin on your abdomen; causing goosebumps to form on your body. But, Peter said nothing, continuing to cover his head with your shirt and his hoodie, effectively hiding his face from view. As he settled, you looked down at him for a short while before deciding to go back to your book, believing that he was just going to lay there and you weren't complaining. You didn't know how much time had passed, but you were well into your book, lost in the story. The author was one of your favorites, loving all of her works and how real and vivid they felt; you loved how she painted the world with a vibrant green palette that blended seamlessly and perfectly with the setting in the story. It was like magic. Your mind had become a theater for the characters that were written in the pages, and you were almost done with it. 

You already had the second book in the series ready for when you were done with the first. You were just going to flip to the next page when you felt Peter move, you paused, but you continued reading, only for you to feel hot breath, slightly wetness, and a set of teeth gently sink into your abdomen. He didn't chomp, nor did he nibble, but he just lightly bit down. It didn't hurt, it only tickled and you were greatly surprised as you looked down at the boy, who was still buried under your hoodie. "Peter," You bit your bottom lip, trying to sound stern despite your giggles, "Did you just bite me?"

"Maybe," His voice was muffled, "Karma."

"Karma..?" You laughed out, setting down your book, quickly marking your page with your bookmark before pulling open the collar of your shirt and his hoodie, peeking down to see Peter's face pressed against your torso - as if he did nothing wrong, "Just because I said I wouldn't have guilt on my conscience?"

Peter let out a deep breath from his nose, chilling the area that he had previously 'bitten.' "Maybe." He repeated in the same nonchalant tone, "Are you done reading yet?"

"Awe," You cooed, letting go of your collar and picking your book back up, "Is my poor baby bored?"

Peter huffed again, bringing his legs up from laying over the side of the bed, basically curling up around you; like some cat. "It is almost eleven."

You hummed, turning a page before letting your free hand rest on his shoulder, gently rubbing at the rough knots that were forming, "But I'm getting to such a good part." You feigned disappointment, lightly biting your bottom lip again as you felt Peter's eyelashes flutter against your skin. 

"Read to me then?" He then asked softly, and how could you refuse?

Clearing your throat lightly, your fist covering your mouth, you returned your hand to his shoulder, lightly grading your nails across his skin before speaking. "’Bartholomew's eyes were-"

"Bartholomew?" Peter chuckled, laughing at the name as you shushed him, lightly tapping his shoulder with your hand.

"Shush, you asked me to read, let me read." You softly scolded the web-slinger before continuing, "Anyway... As I was saying, 'Bartholomew's eyes were a deep shade of green, flecked here and there with golden flecks.'" You paused, flipping the page, "'Adelia felt as if she was sinking within those deep pools of green and gold until her lungs were full to the brim with the wonderful fragrance of pine wood and Bartholomew's natural musk. It wafted off of him in layers, enveloping her in a sea of sweet odors, and she longed for more; she felt intoxicated, drunk off it.'" You continued, pausing momentarily before continuing once more, "As she drowned in the sweetness of Bartholomew's embrace, she began to think that she was truly in heaven. She didn't want to leave this spot, this paradise, this haven where no one else existed but the two of them."

Peter actually was beginning to like the story, even though he wasn't the biggest fan of Victorian romance novels, he was enjoying this one. "Well, that's nice..." He muttered, but he had spoken too soon.

"'Adelia's breath hitched as his hand lay free to slowly unlace her-"

"Woah!" Peter exclaimed, interrupting you, pushing himself from his little, hidden sanctuary under your shirt, and lifting himself onto his hands. His eyes were wide, staring at you before looking at your book and back. "I was not expecting that. That went from like, ten to a hundred real fast."

"Really?" You asked with a small laugh, turning the book towards him so he could look at the cover. "It is quite obvious from the cover." You gestured to it, the cover indeed showing a scantily-clad woman, holding onto a man's abs, his white, ruffled shirt ripped open. The both of them were standing in what seemed to be a rose garden. The title read, 'Desires Unleashed.' You smirked at his reaction. 

He turned back towards you, "Is that a Fabio book?”"

"A Fabio book?" You questioned with amusement, tilting your head slightly. “No, it’s not a Fabio book.”

Peter pursed his lips before a small grin slithered onto his face, “I didn't think you were into these types of books..." He trailed off, lightly teasing as he tilted his head to the side as he spoke. You shrugged, nodding your head with a small laugh escaping your lips.

"Yeah, I am. I love every single word, every single sentence, and every single character." You smiled before shrugging a shoulder. "Besides, I don't think you can say anything about it until you actually read the whole thing. It's not that bad-"

Peter blinked rapidly, almost speechless, "Not that bad? Honey, sweetheart, love of my life..."

"Yes..." You trailed off, tilting your head to the side, fluttering your eyes coyly, giving him puppy dog eyes and a slight pout. Peter let out a defeated sigh, rolling his eyes as he let himself fall back onto his back beside you. 

"It's- It's not bad, per se, I just can’t get over my partner reading a Fabio book." He stumbled over his words.

"Not Fabio, but you technically asked for it." You grinned down at him as he covered his eyes with his arm, his cheeks tinged a light pink. At the small bit of silence, you hummed, grabbing your book again, "And you know that I am full of surprises, my love. Now..." You began, shifting your eyes back down at him, "Should I continue reading?"

Peter grumbled stubbornly, "Might as well..." He sighed, "I'm invested at this point." You laughed, rolling your eyes.

"Whatever you say, Spider-Fabio.”

There was a moment of silence, as Peter blinked at you, “Spider-Fabio? Really?” He bit his bottom lip, one of his hands coming up to scratch at his cheek, “That’s terrible.” He laughed, making you huff and slightly pout your lips.

“It was either that, or Fabider-Man.”

Peter nodded, his laughter subsiding as he took his place back with his head in your lap, “Yeah,” He muttered, his arms looping around you once more, “Spider-Fabio is a much better option.”

---

Main Masterlist | Marvel Masterlist

[epilary]

decorating the tree with tasm!peter parker | headcanons

masterlist | requests are open

- aunt may tried to include in you in as many things as she could - from making cookies to simply watching the latest game show - you were a light in peter’s life and she wanted to let you know she cares - which caused her to talk peter into letting you join for decorating - ‘just invite them over for decorating’ [may] - ‘you know, you invite my partner over more than i do’ [peter] - but he gives in, as he wants you there too - you’re welcomed with bright lights and aunt may with a plate of cookies - a variety as she knows you like them all - peter immediately picks you up and kisses you - you can’t help but smile into the kiss - she gives you a new ornament - probably a pop culture reference that peter explained to her - ‘it can be a new tradition’ [may] - this nearly kills you - her having more faith in your relationship than the two of you do - peter catching you eating some of the popcorn - him throwing it at you - which just causes a big mess - aunt may scolding both of you - the two of you losing popcorn privilege so you have to put the lights on - the tree is near the corner so peter is up against the wall to get the back - ‘it’s poking me! i’m being scratched right now!’ [peter] - you’re laughing your ass off, nearly pissing yourself - ‘hurry up!! y/n i’m begging you, pass the lights, please!’ [peter] - ‘fine pete! i’m sorry, oh my gosh, i’m sending it over. you’ll be out in no time’ [you] - he comes out scathed and asking for a ‘get well’ kiss - aunt may quickly excuses herself to get more popcorn - when he brings his hand up to your chin, his lips taste slightly of sap and pine - peter always runs his index finger against your ear - which causes you to smile once more - ‘thanks for inviting me’ [you] - ‘well it was partially may’s invite too. she really likes you’ [peter] - ‘i like her too pete, i mean, who else gives me sugar cookies and watches game shows with me?’ [you] 

[lovelettersforthedamned]

Too Close For Comfort

--genre + trope: collegeAU! hurt/comfort, angst, sfw (safe for work)

--pairing: tsam!peter parker x gn!reader

--word count: 1.1k

--author's note: FIRST FIC! WE UP!!!

--gif credits: @peachyspaceslvt

Tuesday, October 19 

The late-night air feels crisp during the height of fall. Summer had faded away along with the memories of weekend trips with Peter dancing around in your mind. It had become easier to fall asleep while waiting by your windowsill for your masked hero, but never flawless. You look out of your window to see the gleaming lights of the city reflect back into your eyes. “Every light is another story, another life”, you think to yourself. Trying to distract yourself until Peter comes home is not easy, considering your eyes are threatening to close. You’re dozing off when you hear the groaning of the metal from the fire escape. Your eyes snap open at the familiar sound.

His gloved hand reaches for his dirty mask, the familiar shit-eating grin on his features, “Good Morning, sweetheart.” He’s being a smartass. 

“Ha ha, you’re so funny,” you retort back. You back up from the window as he lets himself into your shared apartment. Your eyes dance across his familiar figure, and that is when you notice a limp in his step as he walks towards you. Turning on a light to confirm your speculations, your eyes lock onto a scarlet red footprint marking your wood floors. “Peter,” your voice comes out in a hushed whisper, “W-what happened?” 

Peter turns, studying his own footprint marking the floors, he chuckles, “Nothing.” Your eyes flick from the mark on the floor back to where he stood, trying to figure out where the blood was coming from. Your gaze locks onto the torn flesh on the left side of his abdomen. Your eyes widen in shock. Rushing towards him, he frowns in defeat. 

“This!” You point at his sides, “This is nothing?” You snap. 

“It’s fine,” his voice comes out flat as he tries to brush past you. 

Trying to reason with him, “In what world is this considered ‘fine’, Peter?” You continue to follow him around the room. Making occasional stops at the kitchen cabinets as you collect supplies to patch him up. 

“In my world, this comes with the job! You wouldn’t understand, sweetheart.”

You stop in your tracks, as you digest the words he barked out. 

He notices the sudden shift in your demeanor and takes a step towards you. You take a step back. “(Y/N), wait-” 

“No, it’s fine,” You raise your hand in defeat, “Since I wouldn’t understand, I’ll leave you to it,” Shoving the supplies into his arms as you walk away. The deafening silence was almost too loud for him to bask in. He winces as he hears the bedroom door slam shut. He can’t move, paralyzed where he stands in the dimly lit kitchen. The thoughts of the moments prior swim around in his mind. A sharp stinging pain pulls him out of his transfixed state. He groans out of annoyance, along with his wound, the weight of his own words ignite a new pain in his chest. 

In their dimly lit bedroom, your glimmering eyes reflect the same city lights you were distracting yourself with not even an hour prior. You’re thinking of the moments that led up to this pointless argument. Thinking back if the dispute was even worth it. Your mind is swallowed by the never-ending spiral of your own thoughts when a faint knock at the door pulls you from the abyss that is your mind. You rise from the comfort of the mattress albeit still smelling like last night's events. 

Opening the door, you’re met with a pale-faced Peter, coated in a sheen layer of sweat. He’s leaning against the doorframe, clearly doubling in pain. He’s still wearing that stupid smirk, the same one he wore earlier. His eyes are half-open, lidded in exhaustion. Muttering a repeated ‘I’m sorry’ before his knees buckle and his broad frame collapses straight into your arms dropping the supplies at your feet. 

Your knees wobble as the weight of your neighborhood Spider-Man nearly crushes you as you lug his unconscious frame towards your bed. Laying him on his back she reels away to assess the situation. Fuck…His suit’s still on. Trying to peel down his suit while he’s passed out is not an easy task. The suit sticking to his damp skin due to the dirt and sweat caked on from his outing earlier that night making it harder than needed. 

You managed to get the suit lower than the injury still bleeding at his side. Quickly you stand, making your way to the abandoned items on the floor. Running them back to Peter as quickly as possible, your hands shake as you drop and sort the things on the bed beside him. You pour the rubbing alcohol onto a washcloth and carefully begin cleaning the perimeter of his wound. His body jolts under your working hands and a small hiss of pain is heard from his lips. His breath comes out as shallow gasps as you continue to work. You look up at him and his mouth is moving, but you can’t hear anything. Your gaze falls back onto the task at hand without hesitation, not knowing that Peter has been mumbling faint apologies this entire time. 

There is more movement coming from him as you continue to work, catching your attention. “(Y/N), I’m sorry.” 

Yet your hands don’t falter at the words, too zoned in on the task at hand. “We’ll talk about it later, just let me help you,” You whisper. The only noise gracing your ears are the sounds of his shallow breaths and the hammer of your own heart in your ears. 

“(Y/N), I didn’t mean to snap I just-” 

Tears begin to form on your lash line, “Peter please,” You beg, “Just let me help you right now.” You glance up at the man through your lashes, He frowns, but he continues to let you work as you finish cleaning the outside of the injury. You grab the small bottle of antibacterial salve, “It’s going to feel cold.” 

Getting a small amount of the paste on your hand you slowly begin to rub it across the laceration. “Fuck,” He groans out of discomfort. You continue to work the remedy around the skin before grabbing the gauze and medical wrap. 

You sniff and clear your throat before asking him, “C-can you sit up a little?” He slowly sits up and his muscles tense under your hands. After laying the gauze, you begin to wrap his abdomen. As you finish your work, that’s when you realize how close you two are. 

Your breath hitches in your throat as you look up at him, finding his gaze already melting into yours. Both eyes not threatening to stray from one another, but actually doing the opposite. His gaze softened as a form of an unspoken apology.  

--author's note: what were last night's events??? what are tonight's events???? don't forget to like, reblog, and comment!!! love you bye.

[so-ithinkicandance]

Andrew!Peter Parker x GN Reader General Dating Headcanons

Andrew!Spidey is quite possibly the kindest, goofiest, and most in love man there is, and he isn't afraid to show it. He actually gives you all of his heart and soul till he understands why he loves you so much more than anything this pitiful world could ever attempt to convince him.

He hasn't always had a very positive view of himself or of who he is, but there you are. And you simply make him want to cry because you are basically the embodiment of everything the goodness, kindness, and hope he has ever attempted to discover in himself.

It comes as a shock when he reveals that he is Spider-Man, but you didn’t run or hide. He's glad he told you since he always disliked lying to you and keeping it a secret. He made a commitment to never withhold anything else from you after telling and telling you everything.

Sure, he's guarding you, but he's also afraid you might suffer harm as a result of him. In fact, it almost caused the two of you to split up earlier in the relationship since he took the blame for jeopardising your safety. You never once placed the blame on him and you were quick to forgive him, but you had to help him learn how to forgive himself. You have to tell him that you're a team and that it's alright to move on and forgive himself because he carries the weight of the world on his wide shoulders.

You are frightened the first time he carries you across New York because, in addition to thinking you will be too heavy for him to carry, you are also terrified of the idea. He reassures you, reminding you of his strength, that he can carry you and that he won't let go. You hardly open your eyes to look the entire time, clinging to him, but you make it! The entire time, he gives you comfort by assuring you that he has you and will keep you safe—and he does.

Aunt May adores you very much. She notices your kindness and can tell Peter loves you just by looking at him. You are always invited whenever she extends an invitation to Peter to visit. Peter makes fun of the fact that Aunt May prefers you to him.

Aunt May likes to share all the embarrassing tales with you and gossip with you about how Peter was as a young lad.

He is impulsive and will take you on a picnic on top of a building in the centre of the city while taking you on a swing through New York. He will visit you at work during your lunch break and drive you to a location with a nicer view than the staff area where you can eat your meal.

The two of you have so much fun together. He’s your best friend and that means that you can authentically be your silliest selves around the other without a care or without judgement. You dance around the kitchen singing your Elvis impressions full pelt, you play hide and seek in pretty much every large department store you visit because why not? There’s just so much laughter in your relationship with Peter and you adore it.

Peter isn't embarrassed to display his sensitive or helpless side to you. He's had nightmares about his parents, Uncle Ben, or the horrors of villains he's battled many times, and you're the one who comforts him by enveloping him in blankets, bringing him tea, and giving him temple kisses. You assist him in processing all of the trauma that he puts himself through.

Sometimes, particularly when he’s having those nightmares or going through a rough patch, you need to remind him to take care of himself. You’re the one who makes the meals and almost forces the plate into his hand to eat it instead of eating processed junk. You’re the one who gets in the shower with him, scrubbing the grime, dirt and blood of him, washing his hair and leaving little kisses on his collarbone. You’re the one who always packs a water bottle and snacks in his backpack for when he’s going out on patrol just so you know that he’s got something to eat and drink.

His computer background and phone background are photos of you. The one on his phone is a candid photo of you laughing that you hate but he loves because he loves that smile of yours. His computer background is a photo of the two of you at one of your family members weddings.

Peter always kind of knew that he wanted to marry you. After one and a half years of dating, Aunt May gives Peter his mother’s old engagement ring. It’s simple but beautiful and it holds a lot of meaning. Peter carries it with him, he’s not sure when he’ll ask you but he carries it with him every single day just waiting for the right moment.

Peter always know what to say to make you weak at the knees. It’s like he has a bank of the most beautiful things to say to make you giggle and blush like a teenager.

He enjoys kissing you. He kisses you on your lips, tummy, shoulder, neck, wrists, and knuckles in addition to your forehead, temple, and nose. If he had the slightest chance, he would kiss you nonstop. He simply enjoys kissing you.

He has a cocoa, coffee, and earthy scent. The chocolate is normally a snack from his backpack that you've packed, and the woodsy aroma comes from how much he enjoys being outside and learning about nature. He typically consumes coffee continuously to stay awake throughout the long evenings.

He is not reluctant to publicly declare his love for you. He never fails to hold your hand, give you a hug, or declare his love for you in the middle of the street. He would practically serenade you until you asked him to stop if it bothered you.

He’s very chill, he’s very low pressure so if you’re not feeling up to doing something, he doesn’t mind. He wants you to be comfortable so however he can help and whatever he can do to make you comfortable, he’ll do it. He doesn’t make you feel bad for it either.

Peter celebrates every single win with you no matter how big or small. He’s so proud of you and just wants you to know that so even if it’s something simple like you managed to figure out something in work or you managed to nail the recipe for those cookies that you’d been trying to perfect all week, he’ll celebrate and be so proud of you.

You are the one who gives him a massage and helps him shower after a difficult argument. You'll take care of him, tend to his injuries, and make sure he's both psychologically and physically healthy.

He makes you feel like the sexiest and most beautiful person alive. He could compliment you for hours as he looks into your eyes. He kisses you with so much passion that it makes you forget about everything. He worships you and your body, kissing you everywhere. He would spend hours making you feel good, making you orgasm over and over before he even thought about pleasuring himself. Sometimes, maybe after a hard fight, he’s rougher and more desperate, skipping the foreplay and just desperate to feel you. Most often though, he takes his time, teasing you and praising you. He makes you feel so unbelievably good, better than you ever thought you could feel.

He’s taller than you so the height difference when hugging him standing up is just *chefs kiss*. It also means that he can reach for the stuff you can’t get because you’re too short.

He has so many nicknames for you. He makes a new nickname or pet name up every day pretty much. Some are funny, some are cute and some can never hear the light of day again.

You sleep wrapped around each other, cuddled right into each other’s skin. He loves sleeping with your head on his chest, it makes him feel like he’s protecting you and keeping you safe. He also enjoys being the little spoon. He’s versatile.

You want to take his clothes, but since he's a really lean guy, he buys sweatshirts in a larger size and wears them before giving them to you. This way, the sweatshirts are not just the right size for you but also smell exactly like him. He never once criticizes you for your weight, shape, or size; in fact, he gives you compliments.

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

a little some-some for christmas. happy holidays🎄 divider @firefly-graphics

peter parker x gn!reader

🎧 all i want for christmas is you / underneath the tree / last christmas

the daily bugle holiday party was rather festive. you’d think with having jameson as your boss he would be a scrounge during the holidays, but he was cracking jokes and showing family pictures to anyone interested. it was a bit freaky seeing this one eighty personality, but it was nice knowing he actually was human under that dictator exterior.

“if spider-man was to be mentioned, i bet he’ll immediately go into a ‘menace to society’ rant.” peter joked while taking sips of his eggnog, face scrunching at the splashes of alcohol.

you chuckled at the jab, “bet five dollars he’ll be his biggest fan once the alcohol grows.”

peter grinned as he leaned his shoulder into the wall to face you, “okay, but no interfering. has to come naturally from someone else or jameson himself. both lose if nothing happens by the end of the party.”

switching the cup to your other hand, you smirk up at peter as you shake hands, “you're on parker.”

turning back to the party, thumping your feet and bopping your head to the christmas tunes, you lean into peter. “favorite christmas song?” tilting your attention on him.

his mouth screwed up in thought, eyes squinting into the distance, “probably… the classic one.” being vague in his answer.

a roll of your eyes, “yeah, that narrows it down to nothing. most of them are classics. come on, don’t hide this small thing from me. i won’t make fun of your taste.” leaning off the wall and standing directly in front of him now.

“you seem really interested in a simple answer.” quirking a busy brow. you shrug dramatically, “cause it’s super important! duh doy!”

that bubbly, boyish laugh spilled from peter with a shake of his shoulders. it was your favorite song, no matter the season. “well now i’m worried you will judge my choice.”

you waved away the simple worry, “no, no. probably just confused.” reaching a hand to his bicep and squeezing. flashing that teasing smile that gets his heart racing.

“well if it’s so important, why don’t you share first. favorite christmas song oh wise one?” moving his left hand to tuck bits of hair behind your right ear. eyes watching each other while cheeks grow warm.

a inhale through your nose, “honestly a tie between last christmas by wham! or underneath the tree by the queen kelly clarkson. would listen to them anytime of year.” eyes nervously observing peter’s pretty face.

“you next. what’s the classic christmas song peter benjamin parker loves?” the twinkling string lights added a sparkle to his warm brown eyes. you could melt into a puddle.

he then dipped his head away. peter’s gaze was focused into his draining cup, bits of curls falling to his forehead. you had to restrain yourself from pushing them back and letting your digits card from the strands.

“i- i feel my answer isn’t that important. like i celebrate hanukkah and christmas. plus! plus, they need to make songs for the other holidays. we have that animated adam sandler movie and the futurama song.” joking to avoid giving his answer, which you thought was a little worrying.

you reached out and took ahold of his hand to give a reassuring squeeze. “pete, it’s really not that big a deal. was just joking and i wouldn’t actually judge-“

“all i want for christmas is you.” peter blurted out while you talked.

if you were drinking there would’ve been a spit take, mouth and nose. blinking a few times with your mouth opening and closing, processing and trying to say something.

“my christmas song.” peter rushes to clarify. it would be a lie if you said that didn’t bother you.

“right. yeah, an awesome go to song. was- was thinking the same thing, but thought best of it.” playing off your ‘bout of sadness. “i’m- i’m gonna get a refill and snacks. what anything? wanna join?” hoping for both a yes and no.

“i’m- i’m good. i’ll- i’ll save our spot.” and with that you scurried away in the packed office towards the red table cloth housing all the refreshments. needing just a few minutes away from peter after that moment.

with a paper plate filled with some sugar cookies, homemade brownies and a few pieces of fruit, with a new cup of soda you hid yourself in a shadowed corner. eyes bouncing from person to person, observing how jennifer in editing was interacting with jonathan from the film crew- definitely a thing outside the office- you figured it’s been long enough to rejoin peter at his side.

dumping your trash and weaving through the bodies you almost bumped into one before they stopped in front of you with their hands hovering over your biceps.

“i was getting worried,” peter declared with a shakey smile. his arms dropped from the air, fingers grazing your knuckles.

“nothing to worry about peter. the green goblin doesn’t work here, just some cutthroat journalist.” brushing his panic away.

peter chuckled while rubbing a palm into his neck, “you never know. nancy’s got that deadly stare if you get on her bad side.” “and that’s why i bring her a breakfast sandwich on wednesdays.”

he nodded, “very smart,” then looked over his shoulder, “wanna move somewhere less crowded? getting a bit overheated.”

“lead the way, parker.” and then peter linked his right into your left, guiding you through the desk and towards the front of the office layout. jackie on karaoke was just a bit faint now, thankfully.

“i- i’m sorry about earlier.” peter quietly spoke. a small jut of your chin to see him a bit better, eyes watchful and gentle. “there’s nothing to be so-“

“all i want for christmas is you, that’s true. i- i just rushed to add the second part, cause i- i didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or- or something. but then when you were gone for almost five minutes i knew i upset you and i never want to upset-“

“pete, peter.” setting a hand to his red sweater clad chest and taking a step closer. he had a soft doe eye happening and it softened your insides. “i wanna change my answer.”

“okay…” a pinch to the middle of his brow.

“all i want for christmas is you. my holiday classic.” speaking the title slowly and dripping in your oowey gooey emotions for the photographer standing before you.

peter’s mouth opened and then, “what?”

you had to resist the eye roll so you tried a different more complicated tactic. “last christmas i gave my heart to someone undeserving of it. so this year to save me from tears i’m giving it towards someone special.” squeezing your linked hands for emphasis.

trying to be romantic towards a smart yet oblivious guy is really hard. “peter, please tell me you understood that or i will walk away. and then i will come back to tell you straight forward.”

he was silent, you could see the gears turning behind his eyes. picking apart and understanding each word and the whole meaning. you almost wanted to just start singing the lyrics if that would help more.

“peter…” “no! no i- i got it! you- you like me too?” ending it off in a question.

a sigh with a simple smile, “yes peter. i like you too.”

“okay, awesome!” he looked like a boy who was gifted the best present. bring your joined hand up peter pressed two kisses along your knuckles then grabbed your other hand and swung them between your bodies. sugarplum fairies danced in your belly.

“do you… maybe wanna get something to eat? actual food not just sweets. or- or some other time, whenever you’re free really.” peter tripped over his words but landed upright.

you couldn’t help the airy giggle from slipping free. “asking me on a date already? are you trying to beat some new year resolutions?” shuffling closer into peter’s space.

“maybe…” his eyeline sitting over your shoulder for a moment before drifting onto your multicolored face. “would that be okay?” always the gentleman.

“more than okay.” your eyes tracing over all the details that make up peter parker before noticing something attached to the ceiling.

the surround chatter has faded and died out, just the two of you in your bubble. “hey, pete…” “yeah?” “look up.”

your eyes dropped to see peter was just staring at you with a confused look so your placed a finger under his chin and forced his head up, your own following second.

tied to a fishing string hung a fresh bundle of holly. “oh.” was all peter said then continued with, “kinda weird to have holly at a work party.”

“true, but it’s a traditional christmas plant. and we’re standing under it…” trailing off to wait for peter’s response of the situation.

“well…” bringing his head down and releasing your hand so he could slowly hold his to hover over your cheeks, “if you’re okay with keeping the tradition…”

fingers knotting into the wool of peter’s knit sweater and pushing onto the tips of your toes, “more than okay, peter.” and leaning in first to seal the confirmation.

a sigh of relief once peter cupped your cheeks and held you close. it was a small, simple kiss- one that was completely appropriate for a work setting. you could picture the scene playing in a holiday rom-com, an added kick of your feet for flair.

a quick peck after the smooch and you leaned away from peter and back on your feet. “i know a diner on fifty-eighth. wanna go?”

“lead the way, oh wise one.” and peter let you take his hand to drag him behind you as you both gathered your belongings.

“enjoy your night.” emma, one of your coworker friend, wiggled her brows in a suggestive manner and you just pushed her shoulder in annoyance.

you rejoined with peter and started to head out until you stopped short and shook his arm, “oh! oh we forgot!” “forgot wh-“

“you know, that- that spider isn’t- isn’t so b- bad.” a slurring j john jameson heard over the high notes of mariah carey.

“buy me a milkshake and we’re even.” “deal.”

[ofbluesandyellows]

In Rainbows - TASM! Peter Parker / Reader

Summary: Peter Parker as the colors of the rainbow.

Word count: 5,191

Warnings: swearing, kissing lol idk, it’s mostly fluff. So yeah,

a/n: this is a little something that came to me two weeks ago, hope you enjoy it. Tried to edit it but maybe there are a few errors there, lmk if you see them. Have fun :)

Meeting Peter had been a happy coincidence. 

Red was all you could see while the photographs became from white pristine paper into an unknown image. Some were already hanging from the thread up your head while you waited. Fortunately enough you had chosen a moonless night to work on your photos at college. So when the door swung open there was no risk of ruining your work.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. Thought it was empty.” A voice said at your back.

“It’s alright, I’m almost done.”

The person stood beside you, eyes scanning your work and you turned to him just in time to see a smile appear on his lips. 

“Those are great shots.” He nodded with his head at the photo that was already developing in the transparent liquid. “I was there that night too, they’re a powerhouse.”

The Strokes had an unexpected gig on Wednesday and you had the fortune to get tickets and stand right in the press area to snap a few photos of them. You were really happy with what you got. It made you fill up with pride to hear someone else appreciate what you captured.

“They totally are, you took photos too?” you asked, turning to him, fully looking at the tall boy by your side. 

He seemed quite familiar now that you noticed. 

“No, a friend got us tickets, just went to have a good time.” He shrugged, putting his backpack on the floor with a thud. “What’s your favorite song of theirs?” 

He hadn’t stopped smiling at you. He started to put all his things out on top of the table. His camera, strap still on, the rolls of film and his phone. The screen was crashed and the edges of it battered, it had personality just like him; with his jumper and his tousled hair as if he had run just to make it there in time, as if he knew you could be leaving soon and didn’t want to miss you.

Of course you wanted to pretend that was the reason for his sudden rush a moment ago. 

“Well, I’d say the classics of course, YOLO and Welcome to Japan are just gems but I guess from their last album I really enjoyed Ode to The Mets. What about you?” 

And it started a full on conversation on your favorite The Strokes’ songs, it was easy to talk to him about music, about art, about playlists and pastries. With each word exchanged you could feel him getting closer to you, arms brushing, laughs shared, eyes making excessive staring, heart beats speeding and hands sweating. 

The boy finished hanging his photos, you could see friends laughing, dogs and incredible landscapes of the city. He had a good eye you wanted to tell him but he beat you to it with a new thought.

Casually, he leaned his side on the desk, arms crossed over his chest, pushing his biceps out, yeah you noticed. 

“They are doing another show in Brooklyn tomorrow… I got an extra ticket if you… you know… if you wanted to go… I could—we could meet there… I don’t know.” He said eyes going from your face to the rest of the room. 

You weren’t sure how but you could notice his whole face going one or two shades darker. It was hard to see under the red lights but the invitation made you feel funny inside, matching with all the rest of your body reactions during the half an hour you’ve been there. You balanced the options; he was sweet, and he was nervous and you were nervous too and you had nothing to lose really.

“Sure, I’d love that.” 

And he beamed, his shoulders relaxed and his eyes twinkled. “Great! Cool, so it’s in Brooklyn Steel. There's a subway nearby. If you live in Manhattan I could wait for you there or outside the venue, you tell me, it’s your choice.”

“I mean you can come pick me up, I live in Greenwich… and if you like we could have dinner before.” You felt your heartbeat in your throat.

“Oh…Yeah! Yeah sure, of course I know a pizza place, if you like Pizza of course.”

You chuckled. “I do love pizza, so it’s a date?”

His whole body filled with air and sudden pride. “It’s a date!”

“Cool,”

“Cool…. by the way my name is Peter Parker.” 

He laughed, extending his palm, which got your smaller one wrapped perfectly. 

You told him your name. “Great to meet you Peter Parker.”  and he grinned boyishly. 

•••

Orange wasn’t a color you often found yourself leaning towards, it never meant much to you, but it had been six months since you and Peter started to date in a very serious way. So you wanted the day to mean something, an unconscious choice,that was being expressed in an orange outfit, you tried it on and unexpectedly it looked good on you. 

Still the color meant nothing much, nothing until he said: “I love you.”

His lips were on the shell of your ear as you waited in line to get some gelato. Peter had his arms wrapped around your middle, he squeezed you a little tighter as his words reached your ear getting seared in your brain, the moment was typical almost ordinary, but it was golden hour and the sunbeams were casting a film of orange peachy tone, your heart somersaulted, belly twisted, and your lips turned upwards in the widest smile you’ve ever given to anyone. 

“I love you too,” you responded, turning in his arms, and you kissed Peter on his soft lips, he tasted like honey and something completely Peter’s. 

The sunset was upon you. Cherry and choco mint gelato flavored kisses. Peter left a peck on your forehead as he turned up to the sky while you walked down the busy streets of New York, a grin on his cold lips. 

“Look, you match the sky.” He pointed.

Furrowing your eyebrows you looked up as peachy skies started to turn slightly bluish on the far end. Peter gave a light tug to the fabric covering your ribs.

You indeed were matching the clouds and the day. From that moment on, orange made you reminisce about the first ‘I love yous’. 

Meaning was found in color.

•••

One night as the tv showed the film ‘Big Fish’ Peter found you crying on the couch to the scene where Ewan McGregor’s character had finally found the girl he loved and showed her how much she meant to him by flooding the outside of her house with flowers. The most beautiful act of love you’ve seen in a movie. 

You gasped when on your birthday the rooftop of your building was covered in yellow flowers, they probably weren’t as many as the movie had but you loved how the variety of them left a scent of sweetness and freshness in the air as Peter settled a picnic in the middle of the improvised garden, daffodils, roses, daisies, you weren’t even sure how many of them were there but you loved it.

“Over here,” With a flourish he showed you the path to the picnic and you followed him, fingers intertwined.

“Peter Parker you shouldn’t have,” hands on your chest and inevitably your nose tingled, your eyes watering.

Peter gave you a sweet smile.“Of course I have to! It’s your birthday honey, you deserve all the nice, most beautiful things there are in the world and I know the quantity of flowers isn’t near as the ones in the movie but the budget’s a bit tight this week.”

His face went a bit pink as you sat down the plaid tablecloth. 

Your heart squeezed. Reaching for his hand, his attention fully on you. 

“I love it, everything, even the mismatched set of plates and the fact that you are wearing the most horrible pair of socks I’ve seen.”

Yes, they were also yellow, they had tiny bright green cars printed on them. You snorted as Peter sent you a sharp look.

“What!? These are my good luck socks, I wore them when I met you, that has to mean something.” He smirked, “They're special.”

“That doesn’t mean they are pretty nor cool.”

Peter scoffed, he threw a napkin at your face, “I’ll let it pass because it’s your day. And I love you and respect you too much to start an argument over my styling choices.”

Another snort on your behalf and you didn’t see it coming but Peter launched against you. You both laid on the cloth as Peter held his weight on his elbows to not crush you. Kissing the tip of your nose, then kissing your lips. Soft lips over smiles and low chuckles.

“Happy birthday, baby.”

“Thank you for being the absolute best.” 

And all you saw was Peter’s chocolate eyes, the light freckles forming on his nose thanks to the summer time and a halo of yellow all around you.

•••

Peter had been so scared, literally he thought of cancelling last minute but a talk with May served him well. He loved you and he needed to show a bit of support, especially knowing your family would be there and this was the first Christmas you two spent together. 

You two took the subway all the way to Queens. Your mom’s side of the family had this pretty lovely house with a huge garden and one of the biggest kitchens Peter has set foot on. 

Peter wasn’t into Christmas but knowing it meant so much for you he made an effort, besides he wanted the rest of your family to like him, to love him if possible. So when your cousin asked you both to babysit littler Tommy while she put her new born baby to sleep, Peter couldn’t say no, and there you three were in the middle of the kitchen decorating gingerbread cookies with the five year old Tommy who had found a liking for Peter very quickly.

Maybe he could feel his Spidey senses too, kids had that kind of ability too sometimes, to predict stuff and shit. Well, Peter read that once so maybe it was true.

Sitting on the kitchen island Peter handed little Tommy a cookie as you put different color frostings on display for them to start their artsy gourmet pieces. 

Peter went for something that made him feel too clever, you’ve known for a while anyway. 

Red and blue, black lines, white eyes.

“A Spider-Man cookie, really Peter?” your voice was a bit judge-y but Peter saw your smile as you shook your head, and it made him chuckle. “Smartass.”

“Well… It made you smile. But it’s not just a Spider-Man cookie, it’s a Christmas Spidey, right Tommy?”

You laughed as Peter showed Tommy his Spidey-cookie, a Santa hat badly shaped on top of the masked hero. Tommy let out that childish giggle that made the both of you beam at the kid.

“See, Tommy boy appreciates my art, you should do the same, baby.” 

Rolling your eyes Peter smirked and continued on decorating cookies with the little boy in front of him.  

It warmed your heart seeing Peter getting along with kids, it made you think of the future, and in that moment the thought of a little Peter didn’t sound so bizarre.

“Can someone bring the little bunny I left in the car?!” you heard your cousin call, and just as an instinct you turned to Peter.

“Go ahead, we have it under control right ,Tom?” the kid probably didn’t know what you were talking about but he still gave you a nod.

So Peter saw you leave the kitchen. 

At some point during the decorating session, Peter needed the color green to complete his Christmas tree cookie. He only found green frosting inside a transparent plastic bag. With a shrug he took it between his palms.

“It can’t be that hard right Tommy.” The kid with those big doe eyes, grinned at him.

“Do it!” Tommy squealed. 

Peter laughed and started doing the edges of this tree. 

But the doorbell rang, Tommy jumped in his spot startled, Kiki the dog started barking, everything happened within the same five seconds and Peter– with incredibly enhanced reflexes put a little too much pressure on the bag. 

The next thing he and Tommy saw was green, green splashed everywhere in the kitchen specially Tommy’s face and Peter’s shirt. 

“Oh,” Peter said in awe.

“Uh oh, you are in trouble!” Tommy said singsonging, pointing at Peter’s shirt. And a second later he started maniacally laughing.

Peter couldn’t help but laugh too. This was definitely not the way he wanted to impress your family but at least Tommy knew how to lighten the mood.

Steps were heard as the two boys in the kitchen cackled louder while they licked their green fingers.

You appeared on the threshold, agape as you saw the explosion of color, snorting you went ahead to try and help the little kid, who only laughed harder at your face.

That was a moment in time that your family always reminded Peter of. Peter felt like he belonged right there and then when everyone made fun of him and Tommy’s green face.

•••

Coney Island was shining prettily against the darkness of the night, Peter had texted you four times to meet him there. He went to check near the cotton candy stand, you weren’t there.

He had been working his ass off for Jonah the whole week, so now that he had free time, he wanted to do something different and fun with you, and what could be more fun than going to Coney Island and getting on those rattly dubious carnival rides? 

The carousel was packed with parents and screaming kids, as loud music blasted all around, you weren’t there either, so he kept on walking. A man with a bunch of blue balloons was falling asleep on his spot near a trash can. 

Peter’s brain had an idea. He brought a balloon and wrapped it on his wrist. Took his phone out of his jeans and snapped a quick selfie.

Sent it to you instantly.

Peter🕷

I’m the guy with the blue balloon. Hurry up baby I’m starving :(

Two seconds later his hand buzzed and there you were, another selfie you had a blue balloon too.

You 🍯

Matching, now let’s see who finds the other first. 

Loser buys dinner. 

Peter smirked, he had missed you so much the whole day.

Peter 🕷

Deal. You are so gonna lose,

Forgot I got enhanced sight x

You 🍯

Too much talking Parker

We’ll see about that.

Peter loved a good challenge, and meaning he was getting free food and probably a bunch of kisses was enough incentive for him to start looking.

Five minutes and Peter decided to cheat a little. Hopping on the ferris wheel had been the worst idea ever, his eyes tried to focus on blue balloons but the colorful lights caused the opposite effect, overstimulation to his poor eyes, Peter felt dizzy.

When his ride ended, shoulders slumped, and a defeated sigh escaped him but it didn’t matter. He ran to your arms. Balloons tangling between one another, and Peter didn’t care if he had to buy dinner, he was just so happy to see you there.

“I won!” you grinned, as Peter’s hands found place on the side of your face. 

“Yeah I let you.”

“Nah, I saw when you went in there,” you smiled, as he caressed your cheeks with his thumbs. 

Peter leaned in to kiss you, it was sweet and full of love. 

“I sabotaged myself with those lights, so yeah I let you,” you rolled your eyes and Peter chuckled. “Come on, let’s get rid of these,” he punched his balloon, hitting your face with it.

“Hey!” 

He snorted, and kissed your forehead, “Sorry.”

“Just because you are buying dinner, but let’s keep them. This was a good idea to find each other in the crowd.”

“Blue Balloons seem to be better than GPS, right?” 

Peter tried to put his arm over your shoulders but the threads of the balloons were too twisted, thread tugged at your wrist wrong, you yelped and Peter grunted.

“Not very practical when I want to hold you closer.” Peter quivered his brows, but neither made the effort to unravel the knots of ribbon. 

You simply intertwined your hands and walked down Coney Island ready to eat your weight on hotdogs.

•••

“But baby my love my everything, this is so cool! I can go to work, get there faster, pick you up. We can drive to visit May, your mom! We can go on a weekend trip!”

Your face was a mix of fear and curiosity. The bright motorcycle was parked just outside your apartment building, it was indigo blue and it sparkled when the sun hit the paint. You couldn’t lie to yourself, it was a pretty motorcycle, however…

“But it’s dangerous!”

“But it’s convenient!” Peter put out a helmet from his backpack. “Look, I even bought you one! Come on, let's have a little ride, it’ll be fun.”

“Peter-“

“Don’t Peter me, c’mon”

With his doe eyes Peter persuaded you to do the unimaginable. You hated when he swung you places, the momentum of the web slinging made you want to vomit and you didn’t enjoy fast rides so this felt like a mixture of both things. Your stomach twisted uncomfortably as you put the helmet on.

“Hold onto me, if I go too fast let me know, okay?”

Your hands surrounded his waist, you weren’t too sure about the motorcycle but you trusted Peter with your life, so you nodded against his back.

“I got you baby.” 

The roar distracted you from the sudden movement, eyes closed tightly you felt Peter’s abs clench when he made a sharp turn or when he had to make a stop.

“You okay?” 

“I guess… so far,”

“It isn’t that bad, try to enjoy it.” 

You both were speaking loud to hear the other through the helmets, but Peter could sense your shaky hands against his stomach and the way you tensed your body on the curves.

But a few minutes later you started to loosen your grip on his body. Your eyes wandered as you moved between the city… Some streets were less trafficked than others but it was nice to feel the wind and the passing by colors. You didn’t even notice when Peter added a bit of velocity, you were immersed in the sensations.

The Brooklyn bridge was ahead, the view of Manhattan was breathtaking at the hour, some street lights were already turning on but the sky still reflected itself on the skyscrapers, mirroring the view.

“Move in with me?”

“What?”

You weren’t able to hear him because of the wind and the helmet.

“That you should move in with me!” Peter shouted.

“What movie?”

“For fucks sake,”

Peter mumbled as he came to a stop. His motorcycle roared still, but the noise was a lot less. Taking the helmet off, he turned around and took yours too.

“I said… move in with me”

Your eyes grew big, a little shocked, “Oh,”

“I mean we already spend pretty much all the time together so I thought… um, never mind, it was just an idea.”

You grabbed his shoulder, “I’d love to. I was just surprised you asked me all of a sudden. But yeah, let’s do it!”

Peter felt relief and a wave of euphoria. He hopped off the motorcycle, helmets hanging from the handlebars. He nestled your face between his hands, kissing you deeply, he smelt like sun, leather and spandex, with a touch of lemon thanks to his shampoo.

“I have everything planned, we can move my desk to the other room and we can make that an office for when you work from home, we definitely need to throw out my mattress, yours is way bigger and more comfy. Oh and we could get a dog, you like dogs I like dogs so why not.”

You were beaming at your boyfriend as he kept on rambling about the new accommodations of the apartment, what breed of dog and if he even had to buy new cutlery. 

“It’s alright, we can figure that out later.” The wind swirled around you and it all felt right. Even the oh so horrible motorcycle felt less wrong, like it had to be part of your trip or this decision. “We can also get rid of this indigo monstrosity too,”

Peter furrowed his brow, “I just bought it, come on, it's so cool.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “It is not, it’s dangerous and you won’t even use it.”

“Oh I definitely will, I look so hot on it.”

Rolling your eyes you gave him a good reason to not like the motorcycle, “that’s why I don’t want it, people will be looking at my boyfriend a little too much.”

Peter smirked, “oh so you agree I look extra hot on the motorcycle, huh. Knew you liked it, kinky.”

“Oh shut up!”

“You love me, don’t try to deny it.”

You grunted, but a smile slipped on your lips. Peter took the helmet and was about to put it on your head again. 

“Love you.” He kissed your forehead sliding the plastic thing, he gave the top of it two knocks, making your head rattle.

“Ouch.”

“Oops,” he put his on and there you were again on the road back to Peter’s apartment, your new home.

•••

Lazy Sunday, as Peter liked to call them. They were pretty much that, after a long night of patrolling, he finally slept until his body couldn’t stand being in bed.

There had been five months since you moved in with him and he couldn’t be happier. You threw a party a month after you were settled in. May made meatloaf as if an army was about to arrive at the apartment, you and he had to eat that for two weeks straight until the last bit disappeared. 

Peter didn’t want to see or hear the meatloaf again, like ever in his life.

So lazy Sundays for him consisted of sleeping, working on his laptop, kissing you as many times as he could, washing dishes and watching basketball games. Sometimes he would change a burned out light bulb or fix the sink’s pressure but that day Peter decided to do laundry, it was his turn so he put everything in trying to finish the task as fast as possible.

When you came back from the bakery, with a fresh baguette and a slice of lemon pound cake for Peter, he went into the kitchen to prepare milkshakes at noon.

“We should wait until after lunch time, Peter,” you pointed as you put the dishes in place.

Peter grunted, “we can have early dinner instead, come on you love my strawberry milkshakes.” 

And with pouty lips and twinkly doe eyes how could you say no to Peter Parker.

“Fine… but I want mine to be extra creamy!”

“Your wish is my command, baby” 

He kissed the top of your head and started to work.

Two hours later Peter was trying to fix some of the coloring and contrast of his photos to send to The Bugle. Kendrick Lamar played through his laptop speakers as he nodded along.

“PETER!”

And Peter flinched on his spot, he sank deeper on the couch, pretending he hadn’t heard you shout his name. Kendrick did a good job trying to make this more believable.

“PETER!” 

Shit shit shit

Peter was panicking, he didn’t even know what he had done to get that tone from you, but he wasn’t risking it.

Maybe that was a bad move on his behalf, because when you appeared in the living room with  puckered lips and flared nostrils he feared for his life. Not literally but he knew something was coming down.

“What did you do to the washing machine?” you asked him, pretending you were totally chill, calm, but it was obvious you were about to lose it.

“Uh… fabric softener?” 

“What else?” your brow cocked and Peter wasn’t sure what his answer should be.

“I—um… clothes…” you sigh didn’t help him solve the puzzle, “listen honey, I don’t know what happened, I just did what I saw you doing, what May taught me.” 

Peter half shrugged. 

Crossing your arms over your chest you pivoted on your spot, “come see what happened.”

Peter winced, knowing that whatever it was was worse than he imagined.

The little room where the washing machine and the dryer machine were, had all the clothes on display just for him to see. Peter’s eyes widened.

“Oh.” he said. Hands on both sides of his hip bones. 

“Yeah oh, now what are we gonna do?”

“I… don’t know, baby.”

Your eyes turned to him, seeing his whole face contracting as he tried his best to not laugh.

“Don’t dare laugh Parker, this isn’t funny, those right there were my best pair of shorts!”

But Peter couldn’t hold it, he snorted and started laughing, until tears were forming on the corner of his eyes. Immediately afterwards you let yourself get involved in the same stupid feeling.

The clothes were violet, not lilac or pink, bright violet. Peter’s suit was the only cloth item that remained in its true colors, red and blue. 

“I shouldn’t have done that.” Peter was trying to stop laughing but the more he looked at the scene the funnier it became.

“Yeah you shouldn’t have, but you did it.” a little smile tugged at your lips, “at least you’ll have to use violet shirts too, and socks, I mean you wear those horrible yellow socks anyway so I don’t think that would be an issue for you.”

“Oh, not this again,” Peter was grinning, “but yeah right, I don’t care about the socks, violet isn’t my color tho, but it’s what I deserve.”

“Next time wash the damn suit alone”

“I will…” Peter saw you collecting the clothes, his whole body—even when he felt a pang of guilt for the damage he cause—felt alive, happy and eased, this was the most mundane thing that could’ve happened to him today and he was almost grateful for it, because he loved having moments like that with you. Homey, normal and funny. 

He loved spending life with you, no matter what happened or what color his underwear was, his life was technicolor since you were in it.

“Did I tell you the same happened to me a couple years back, I told May I washed the American flag, just so she wouldn’t suspect of me being Spider-Man…”

Peter said this between laughs, reminiscing of the past.

“And why didn’t you put it in the washing machine alone..”

“I forgot… I’ll buy you another pair of shorts I promise!” 

“Ugh, shut up spider boy!”

•••

Black was all you saw, lying in bed next to Peter as the rain pelted on the windows. His chest was pressed to your back, you being the little spoon.

Peter kissed the back of your neck as his arms wrapped your middle, putting you as near as your bodies could ever be. 

You didn’t need light nor words to express how much you cared for him or him for you, it was all in the actions, in the deep breaths he took to inhale your shampoo scent and the still lingering perfume notes on your skin. 

It was in the way he made tiny little circles on your stomach, his hands finding a way under your shirt and his lips brushing the skin of your shoulder. You felt his heartbeat at your back and you smiled, Peter made you smile when he was falling asleep and all of a sudden he jumped on his spot, that feeling of falling off the bed when you are getting swallowed by sleepiness. 

He grunted and snuggled against you.

Of course he felt your belly wiggle with the silent laugh, but Peter didn’t care his lips only turned upwards, enjoying just the feeling of you between his arms. Your hands found his, fingers tracing the shape of his fingers and the edges of his hand, his trapped yours and it  made you giggle, his index and thumb found the new addition in your ring finger. 

In the darkness everything felt more personal, this was a reminder of what the future held for you two, secret actions no one needed to know, so you twisted to face Peter as he fixed himself to let you. 

The pitch black room wasn’t an impediment, on the contrary it gave you permission to brush your knuckles over Peter’s jaw where a stubble was forming. Your lips found his naturally, Peter was almost out but he let you kiss him, only his hand giving your hip a light squeeze.

Rain was the soundtrack you fell asleep to. Peter your comfort, and darkness, the witness of little moments of joy and love.

•••

White were the balloons, the tablecloths and your wedding attire. 

The flowers decorating the space were yellow, they had to be. 

Seeing Peter dressed in black with his bowtie and teary eyes at the altar, all you could think of was how fortunate you were, how much you loved him and how happy your life became the moment you saw him under red lights.

Forever promises were made, with more I love yous than one could dare to count, and a bunch of kisses once they let you kiss one another. 

“I’ll forever be here for you, you are the joy of my life, the light, the sun, the stars, the moon, my compass and my reason to be who I am.” Peter kept on whispering even after the ceremony. With each word your heart grew a size, you couldn’t believe you felt this strongly  about someone.

First dance with Baby I’m Yours by the Arctic Monkeys in the background felt like the right call. Peter made you twirl and you sang to him, as he hid his face on your neck, kissing it lightly.

You saw your mom and May crying at some point; little Tommy became the ring bearer and was even more fascinated by Peter when for his birthday he got a lego collection of none other than Spider-Man. 

Cake was lemon sponge and they served strawberry milkshakes along with other alcoholic beverages. Peter and you danced until your feet couldn’t take one more step. 

“I love you!” 

“No, love you more!”

“Lies,”

“I asked you out, remember? I have dibs.” Peter pinched your nose.

“But I accepted, so I have the last word.” 

Peter rolled his eyes, pressed his forehead on yours, eyes connecting with your own. He leaned in, eyes fluttered shut and there; lips collided with so much care, love and softness you could feel fireworks inside you, colorful, fiery, bright and alive. 

Loving Peter Parker was like every single one of the colors, everything merging together, forming a rainbow inside your heart.

[underoospeterparker]

hi!! was wondering if i could request peter parker hurt/comfort with gender neutral reader where she gets rlly overwhelmed and dissociates and he knows that they tend to zone out and helps them through it??

tried to make this as accurate as possible, but do let me know if it isn't!

As your friends begin discussing something about the upcoming dance at school, you realised you were starting to zone out.

Your skin started to tingle and some of the small hairs on your arms sticking up, a warning you didn't acknowledge. You felt detached from your body, as if you were watching yourself move and squirm from afar.

It was scary. Your dissociative episodes always were. You didn't know what it started from, or rather when, but only that you had them every once in a while, when you were feeling overwhelmed. And sometimes socialising, even with your closest friends, did get slightly overwhelming, especially added on to your desperate need to please everyone, to make them like you.

You can't decide if what you're experiencing right now, if the situation you're in, is real or not. A few seconds ago, you were enjoying yourself, laughing, even. But now, everything feels surreal, like you aren't really here. Murmuring something about feeling hot, you get up from the sofa, leaving the warmth of Peter's arms.

You sunk down to the floor after closing the door of the bedroom. It felt almost as if you were drowning, deep into unknown waters, and you couldn't reach for a breath, no matter how hard you tried.

Before you knew it, your boyfriend was crouching in front of you, aware of what was going on. He took your hand, a small comfort in your worst nightmares. "It's okay," you watched him mouth, without comprehending it, "You're okay."

You took a deep inhale, air finally filling your lungs. You took in as much of it as you could, gasping until you collapsed against Peter's chest, who wrapped his arms around you.

"Come back," he murmured, breath tickling your hair. "I'm right here."

"Are you real?" you asked softly, voice trembling.

Peter's felt his heart twinge, as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "Of course I am, sweetheart."

You sighed, burrowing your head into his sweater even more. "Thank you. For everything," you added.

"You don't ever have to thank me," he whispered, giving you a reassuring smile. "It's what I'm here for."

[thewriterg]

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐭?

pairing(s): peter parker x gn!reader, peter parker x widow!reader (can be read as any peter)

summary: Your head was always spinning, you couldn’t eat, and if you got up to fast your vision would be blurry for at ten minutes at a time coming home Peter didn’t expect you to see you as bad as he did when he came home and he’d do everything to make it better. You had to get better.

word count: 1.8k

request(s): Can you do like a Peter Parker x sick reader. Where like Peter was doing night patrol and came home to the reader asleep on the floor in the bathroom but like whining in her sleep because her head and stomach hurts. So Peter picks them up and they hug him so tight and tells him it hurts. Peter does everything in his power to make it stop hurting but you end up going to the doctor and find out they have a new virus that takes 2 weeks to recover from but a week before it isn't contagious any more. So Peter Parker has to take care of them for 2 weeks because she has it really bad.

warning(s): sickness, descriptions of throw(ing) up, blood, pain, crying, doctors, hospitals, medicine, pills, sickness, kisses, pet names, and language

A/n: —GIF: @dailymarvelstudios & @peterparkcr— umm so your girl’s motivation has been one to none and I re-wrote this like four times so 😊

Peter sat on top of a building watching the busy streets of New York pass by it was shy of 10:30pm and Peter was itching to get home to you not that he even wanted to think about leaving your side to go patrol anyhow

You were sick, sick was honestly a understatement for how you felt usually You and Peter would go on patrol together but not today The brunette sat in his seat antsy like

It, your sickness has been working up to this point for three days now.

First, it was not being able to keep food down even though Peter was worried you just blew it off as food poisoning and not having an appetite for anything

Next, was blurry vision every time you stood up Peter thought I was maybe from you lack of eating but when he saw that it made you so d i z z y it practically knocked You off your feet he knew it wasn’t the case

Last, was the headaches.

You don’t even know if you could call them just mediocre headaches

Because they weren’t

It felt like a hummingbird or a woodpecker just tapping their rough beaks into your nerve system

Or a lumberjack pulling a saw back and forth on the corners of your brain chipping it o f f piece by piece little by little

Peters senses we’re going haywire and yet it wasn’t because of any crime or any bullets flying towards his temples no.

It was radio silence on the Tuesday night of New York and he decided to call it early the world would do okay without Spider-Man for one night and the brunette began to swing his way back home to you

💌💌💌💌

“Darling, i’m home!” Peter made sure he wasn’t too loud to make your pain in your head any worse but loud enough so you wouldn’t be alarmed at his sudden presence

“Love?” Peter called out into the air again once he didn’t see you in your usual spot over the last couple of days your side of the bed was empty the covers pooling around the mattress

Peters heart began to die down in his chest once he saw the the bathroom light on letting a soft sigh escape his pink lips approaching the wooden door letting his fist softly hit the surface

“Are you okay in there?” Peter waited for a response and when he didn’t get one his heart was right back to its irregular beating patterns and his suit sticking to his skin didn’t do anything to help

“Y/n?” Peter never used your real name but he would go to any extent when it came to your health the Brunette listened closely and could hear you stirring and whimpering swearing that his heart stopped in that moment

“Darling I’ll break down this door I swear!” When seconds past and all Peter got in response was whining and labored breaths he didn’t hesitate to ram his shoulder into the door before the wood began to break under the force and finally flew open

The sight of you sleeping, bunched up, cradling yourself in a ball, sweat dripping down your forehead, and all around just sickly looking made Peters heartbreak in his chest as he immediately crouched by Your side scooping your overly warm body in his arms shushing you as the whimpers left your lips

“Oh baby…” The brunette trailed off, his eyes watering as he swept your hair out of your face as it stuck to your forehead from the cold sweat that rested in small beads on your body. When your eyes finally fluttered open they were dull, far away, almost lifeless.

“P-peter it hurts” You were whining now pressing yourself into Peter's abdomen as if he could take all the pain away and in every moment you were he wished he could

“I know darling, I know, I got you.” Finally standing to his feet with you in his arms legs wrapped around his l a n k y torso and head resting on his shoulder as he entered your shared room stepping in front of your bed going to lower your body on the cushion before you whimpered in protest clinging on tighter

“Okay, okay, I know” Peter reclined in his steps finally feeling your tears seep through his suit as he patted your back rubbing circles with his palm as your sobs voided his ears causing his heart to crack in two

“I’m sorry baby I’m so, so sorry I don’t know what to do.” Tears began to spill from the brunettes eyes as he began to dart around the room collecting clothes to put on your body Your crying never ceasing as Peter struggled to your sweatpants over your legs and soon enough you were heading out the window secured to Peters chest swinging from building top to building top

💌💌💌💌

Peter sat next to your bedside holding your hand with interlocked fingers even though it was one sided as you lied unconscious the team of nurses and doctors had to sedate your thrashing body much to the boys dislike it had been just about a day now and the doctor had diagnosed you with a immune virus that no matter how many health classes he took over his years of Highschool and now college had no clue where it began to start but it would take at least two weeks to drain your system with the prescribed orange pill bottle that the nurse had given to Peter to give to you

Peters head snapped to yours as your fingers began to twitch in his hold and his leg bounced up and down in anticipation because he couldn’t tell the difference between you waking up or your body having a muscle spasm

But Peters prayers to Thor and whatever God was out there were answered when you finally opened your eyes met with dim lights recommended by the brunette who knew they weren’t fun when you were out for a while and when you finally made eye contact his heart could just about burst in his chest

“You scared me ha lf to death you know that?” The boy stated gripping your hand a little tighter making sure you IV wasn’t in his path while you softly smiled at him rubbing your thumb back and forth against his skin

“I’m sorry” You moaned your head beginning to softly pulsate in your ears as you tried to blink the tears away from your eyes for Peters heart sake

“Here take these, helps drain the bug out of you faster” The brunette handed you a small cup that consisted of two white pills and a small bottle of water as you swallowed them down taking the water with you sighing into the small hospital room when you were done

“Mmm, I don’t think i want you out of me any longer” You responded taking your index and middle finger imitating a spider crawling up Peters arm onto his shoulder as he swatted your hand away and you chuckled in your temporary bed

“Please, god stop” You watched in amusement as the boy turned pink and bright red even after four years in a relationship and sixteen years in friendship things never change

“They tell you when I can get out of here bug boy?” You questioned stretching your arms over your head a slight arch in your back before settling in your seat looking over to Peter for an answer

“They said once you woke up they would have to do a few exams and depending how they turn out you could leave today or stay another week” Peter sighed taking hold of the hospital bed remote in his hand a pressing the big dull, worn, red ‘nurse help’ button

Soon enough there were two nurses to wheel you away for testing before You gave Peter one of your ‘spider-hearts’ you always did with your hands and he replicated the same until he could no longer see your figure and sighed sitting back down his seat fiddling with his fingers as he waited

💌💌💌💌

You were good to go the Doctor gave you discharge papers, Peter some instructions on how he should care for you the next couple of days to a week, and his signature to get a refill of medication when your pills has ran low since you had to take three a day but at least you were out

That’s how you found yourself in this position burrito’ed in two thick blankets as Peter spoon feed you alphabet vegetable soup May had made once she heard about your illness even though she was a bit confused on how you were in this predicament with your… abilities she still wished you a fast recovery and continued to call Peter over to bring you a new soup every two days declaring if you ate Peters soup you’d never get better

You’d never seen your boyfriend so offended

“Just two more bites” The brunette pleaded and you shook your head like a four year old refusing to eat the vegetables provided on their plate

“You know you’re a very difficult patient” Peter sighed pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose as You snorted rolling your eyes finally taking the bite of soup off the spoon into your mouth

“Says you remember when you got your wisdom teeth pulled?” You reminded your partner as he deflated sitting the semi empty bowl on the nightstand and tucking your head into your neck

“You promised to never bring that up” He whined and you felt the vibrations along with his cool breath traveling up the nape of your neck it could’ve made you shudder but you were to busy stifling a chuckle rubbing circles on the brunettes back

“I promised to never bring up unless you gave me a reason to plus this is like maybe the second time I’ve been sick in like… seven years” Your hands traveled to his hair now as you twisted his curls in between your fingertips

“That’s fair” Peter mumbled before rolling over to the side of you as you slid down to get more comfortable in your position

“You know the best thing about spider-perks” Peter piped up turning towards you as hummed with a furrow of your brows for him to continue his exploration

“I could do this… and not have to deal with the sickly consequences” Peters lips were on yours in a silent pause before he continued and you rolled your eyes before pecking his cheek before nuzzling into his side as he welcomed you with open arms

Even if you were a difficult patient Peter wouldn’t have it any other way

[stinkysam]

Peter Parker - I wasn't here.

Warning : canon death

Genre : Angst

Synopsis : “Tasm!peter Parker x male reader who’s basically like Superman, basically them being childhood friends and eventually becoming heroes and telling one another but maybe during a patrol they get into a fight and have a falling off. fluff to angst” - anon

Reader : gender neutral (you/yours)

You grew up with Peter, he wasn't your only friend but over the years he had been your only constant. The one who stayed despite all odds.

You were here at his parents’ death, giving him your support even though you were barely 6.

Even when you weren't in the same school he would still visit your house after class to do homework with you, even if you didn't have the same ones.

As you developed your powers, you told him about it. Both experiencing what you could do and couldn't. It constantly evolved, gaining new powers over time. He was the only one who knew about it, except your parents who had told you what would happen during your teenage years.

He never repeated it to anyone and you felt thankful. Not even when you began your vigilante activities after a few years.

Fighting villains and helping people whenever you could. Peter envied you, he wanted to do the same. He even was your guy in a chair for a time before gaining his own super powers, but he didn't tell you about them.

You were here again at the death of his uncle, but it's only later he told you about everything. His powers, his tracking of his uncle's murderer, and why he really died.

He explained how he got bitten by a spider in the Oscorp building he sneaked in. And how troublesome it was to get back home, making you laugh loudly as he was retelling the events of how he ripped that poor lady's shirt off.

“It's not funny !”

“It is ! You would've laughed if it had happened to me !”

“I wouldn't !”

“Liar !”

“It was embarrassing ! I looked like a total pervert !” He complained, planting his face in his hands, making you laugh again.

Like he had helped you with yours, you helped him with his powers. Helping him fabricate his suit and go after the guy who killed his uncle, without much success, finding the courage to climb high buildings as well.

Slowly his masked activities broadened, he wasn't looking anymore just for his uncle's murderer, but for anyone the police couldn't help.

And it's naturally you two went on patrol together. He even carried out his first big mission alone ; stopping Curt Connors from turning the whole of New York into giant lizards. Everything turned out fine, if not for the loss of George Stacy's life, Gwen's father.

“You're gonna make enemies. People will get hurt. Sometimes the people closest to you. So I want you to promise me something, okay ? Leave Gwen out of it. Promise me that. You promise me.” Were his last words to Peter, unable to utter a word, nodding only.

So he did as promised, he had broken up with her, or more accurately avoided her completely. He told you about it and you patted his back, telling him he was doing the right thing.

But time passed and they got back together, before breaking up again, and so on.

Everything was going fine until you began to talk about Gwen. His love that he couldn't drop.

You had stated your disagreement with his relationship, believing it was dangerous for Gwen to be around you or Peter as she didn't have powers to protect herself.

“I know you love her man, but you should leave her alone.”

“That's what I'm doing, [Name]. We broke up.”

“Really ? For real this time ? Or for a couple days ?” You didn't mean to sound this harsh, but you got tired of it. Tired to see your friend's guilty feelings eat him alive and make him act irrationally.

He frowned, not liking your insinuation.

“Yeah. For real.”

“Peter, you really should leave her alone, even if she comes to you. You know her father is right.”

“I know ! I don't need you to repeat what I know already ! Don't act like you're my conscience or something.”

“I'm not trying to act like I'm your conscience, but you clearly need me to be it since you keep seeing her. Do you think you're slick ? Stalking her ?”

“What ?” He laughed nervously. " I'm not stalking her !”

“Liar. If I could see it, what if a villain saw it too ? And connected the dots ? Thinking ‘oh Spider-Man likes her so I must kill her to hurt him’.”

“I'm being careful.”

“We're heroes. We're literally in the face of danger, we're not careful. Careful is to run away when in front of it.”

“I'm not alone, there's you, we can protect her with the two of us.” He smiled. Sometimes, he trusted your abilities too much.

“Do you think I have the time to constantly watch one person when there's all of New York to take care of ?”

“When you can't I will !”

“Peter, do you hear yourself ? This is not healthy !”

He took a step back, biting his own tongue.

“I have it under control.”

“You don't. You break up with her because you feel guilty. And when you can ignore her father you date her again. Then you feel guilty once more and you break up, again. This isn't healthy for any of you. How long are you going to keep hurting her ?”

“That's why this is the last time. I broke up with her for good.”

“Yeah ? Once again for how long ? A month ? Two ?”

“Stop it.”

“No ! You're gonna get her killed. Or drop the suit if you want her that much. Spiderman or Gwen ? Pick one, you can't have both !”

He said nothing for a moment, taking in your words.

“You're wrong, I can protect her.” He says quietly, hurt by your words.

You huffed, tired.

“I don't think you can. Why do you think you're the only friend I have now ? Because I know you can protect yourself, the others can't. It's too dangerous. You should know that.”

He remained silent for a moment.

“You should trust your powers more. You're literally a copy of Superman, when I'm just a crawly spider.”

“If you're just a crawly spider, then drop Gwen because you can't protect her forever.”

“But together we can !”

“No. Peter.”

He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“But I really broke up with her.”

“And did you stop stalking her ? Are you really trying to move on ? Are you sure you won't go to her once you feel like it's fine ?”

He huffed, growing more annoyed by the second.

“Peter, I know it's hard but if you want her alive, leave her alone. Or drop the suit.”

He looked at you with tears in his eyes.

“I can't…”

You sighed.

“Leave New York to me ! If I'm so strong, I can handle it by myself just fine, like before ! And go with her. It's not that hard. Drop the suit.”

He smiled apologetically.

“I can't…”

“Well, you don't have a choice. Pick one or life will make you pick one real quick.” You said, taking a few steps before putting on your mask and flying away.

The next day you went to your usual spot and Peter wasn't here. You called him and immediately your call was rejected. You sighed and abandoned, thinking he was still mad at your words and that it'll get better tomorrow.

But tomorrow was the same, and the days after too. Only hearing about Spider-Man on the news. If he wanted to be petty, you could be petty too, refusing to pay him or aunt May a visit to know how they were doing.

It went like this for months, and you missed him. You wondered if he missed you too.

Your pride was wounded too.

He couldn't drop a girl he's met a couple years ago but dropped you easily, even after all the years together. As if your friendship didn't mean anything against Gwen. You had nothing against her, she's a sweet girl but you were annoyed by the power she had over him.

Then you heard of something you hoped wouldn't happen, something that proved you and her father right, Gwen's death.

Your heart broke for Peter at the news. You tried to call him, to give him your support, but once again, he didn't answer.

You felt bad.

It was obvious he didn't want to hear from you, especially after what you said. He didn't want to hear “I told you so” from you, as if you'd ever tell him that.

Fuck. You regretted what you said. You should've agreed to keep watch on her, as unhealthy and morbid as it was. Maybe you could've helped avoid her death.

Maybe things would've been different with your help. If Spider-Man couldn't keep her alive, maybe you could've helped change that. Or was it too presumptuous to think so ?

God. Fuck. Was this your fault ?

[bruisedboys]

congrats on 3k ml, so so proud of you, you deserve it and so much more! and if i haven’t said this sooner, i’m in love with your account and your writing is gorgeous, you’re just so incredibly talented, and aerial too <3

I was wondering if I could have KNIVES OUT please? i’ve been in a bit of a rut lately, not really feeling the best all of a sudden and was thinking of something comfort related with pete. maybe something with breathe (muse a holds muse b closely to help them wind down after a stressful day/event) and possibly with a bit of o4 (sender offers receiver an earbud to share their music), maybe as a way to say that they’re there for them without having to say the words and that they’re here to listen when they’re ready to talk?

thank you so much for considering my request and take your time. congratulations again on yet another milestone!

thank you for your request lovely! this was such a good one I loved writing it. and I hope u feel better soon angel!!! x

summary: peter helps you feel better after a bad day

gn!reader 0.9k words

You’re close to tears by the time you get to Peter’s. It’s been a hard day. Your heart hurts and your mind is tired and your body is unfortunately taking the toll. Your limbs ache and your head pounds. Plus, it’s raining, which never helps.

You let yourself in because he gave you a key months ago, along with a little spiderman keyring that you think is simultaneously awful and adorable. At least it makes you smile every time you look at it.

You shed your jacket and shoes at the door, hang your bag on the hook he’d added for you next to his. You can hear him in the kitchen, cutlery and pots and pans jostling around.

“Peter?” You call.

No response, but you think you can hear him humming. He must have his earbuds in.

You make your way to his tiny kitchen, with its overgrown plants that have managed to claim the entire windowsill, and the colourful mismatch of mugs collected over years of thrift shopping. Sure enough, Peter’s stirring something that smells like tomato soup at the stove, earbuds lodged in his ears, the wire threaded under his shirt and into his jeans pocket. He’s humming a song, head bopping as he stirs, and it makes your heart smile.

“Hi, Peter.”

Peter starts, then relaxes when he sees it’s you. A smile stretches across his face like a sunrise. Slow and beautifully warm and golden. He puts down his wooden spoon and takes out his earbuds, letting them dangle over his shirt collar.

“Y/N,” he says, and the way he says your name makes your chest ache. Like he was meant to say it. Like it’s his favourite word in the world. Like maybe he loves you more than you or him can even comprehend. “Hi, honey. I didn’t hear you come in.”

The corner of your mouth lifts in the whisper of a smile. “It’s okay,” you shrug. You peer at the rich red substance on the stove. “Is that tomato soup?”

Peter grins. “Yes, ma’am. I thought we’d have that and grilled cheese.” He strides across the floorboards until he’s right in front of you. You’re suddenly overwhelmed by how lovely and homely he looks. With his soft blue t-shirt, his hair all mussed, freckles glowing in the warm kitchen light. He smells like tomato and garlic and butter. He takes your face in one hand and drags his thumb over your cheekbone. “What d’you think?”

You almost forget what he was talking about in the first place. You blink, overwhelmed by his closeness, by the presence of him. He feels very safe. Safer than you’ve felt all day.

“Sounds good,” you say weakly. You know you sound funny. It hadn’t meant to come out that way, but you were already feeling bad and he’s come along and been so lovely that all of it combined is gonna make you cry.

Peter smiles again, and dips his head to kiss your forehead. His warmth is intoxicating. You want to hug him so badly it hurts. He pulls away, his hand still at your jaw, and he must catch the look on your face because his eyes are suddenly all concern.

“Are you okay?” He asks, suddenly a little bit urgent. “You look sad. You’re not sick, are you?”

You shake your head. “No. Um, no, I’m not sick. I just, um.” You swallow. It’s hard to tell him, because you don’t want to ruin how happy he is. But you know he’d want you go tell him the truth. “I had a hard day today.”

Peter melts, makes a pitying noise that’s so nice your chest hurts. He takes your face in both hands now, and steps closer so his arms are lodged between your chests.

“Aw, baby. Why didn’t you call me, hm? I’d’ve picked you up earlier.”

You try to shake your head again but it’s hard when he’s got his hands all over your face.

“Pete, it’s okay,” you tell him. “It wasn’t anything in particular, really.” You shrug. It’s hard to explain, but you know he’s always patient with you so you don’t try to explain it all now. “I’m just happy I’m here now.”

Peter smiles at that. It’s pretty in its softness. Gentler than the big grins he gives you when you make a joke. Soft as warm butter. “I’m happy you’re here, too. Hey, you can stay that night, if you’d like. Would you like to?”

Just the thought of it makes you want to cry. He’ll probably talk to you later tonight about your day, help you get to the root of the problem and then work through a solution with you. He’s good at that.

“Yeah, I’d love to,” you say, desperately trying not to give in to the growing urge to cry. Only, now you don’t know if it’s because you’re sad or happy. “That’d be nice.”

Peter hums as he drags his thumbs under your eyes, his skin calloused against the soft, velvety, skin there. He studied your face for a moment. Then,

“You want a hug?”

You smile. He knows you too well. “Yeah, please.”

He hugs you so tight it’s almost hard to breathe. Then he lets you share his earbuds and he puts on your favourite song while you stir the soup and he cooks up two grilled cheese in the pan. The earbud wire stretches dangerously and they fall out of your ears every two seconds, but it’s worth it to be next to him.

It’s safe to say your bad day is saved.

-

[cannibalizedyke]

Honey and Lavender and You

TASM!Peter Parker x GN!Reader

Word Count: 170

Warnings: None it's just a fluffy lil blurb hehe

Summary: Falling asleep with Peter Parker

General Taglist: @gg-is-a-loser

Peter Parker Taglist: @dragon-master-kai

Moots: @iheardarumorthings @thewritingbabe @scandalous-chaos @ddejavvu @winterwisteria

“You smell really nice,” Peter murmured into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.

You giggled, threading your fingers through his hair. “Do I, Bug?”

“Mhm.” His breath tickled your skin. “Smell like honey. Smell like honey and lavender and you.”

You smiled, tilting his head up and kissing him. He made a soft noise of contentment, stretching, and snuggled deeper into you.

“I love you, (Y/N/N),” he said sleepily, grinning against you.

“Gods, you’re so adorable when you’re tired.” You kissed his head, unable to keep your smile off your face.

“You’re adorable,” he contradicted, eyes falling shut.

“Mhm.” You kissed his cheek. “Night, Peter.”

“Night night.”

“I love you,” you whispered, kissing all over his face.

“Aw, that tickles!” he whined. “I thought we were going to bed.”

“We are, baby, we are.” You laughed. “Just can’t resist kissing your cute little face.”

“You have a cute little face…” His voice drifted off, and then he was asleep.

“Yours is cuter,” you whispered. “Love you, Spider Boy.”