#tasm peter parker fluff

[slytherheign]

YOU BELONG WITH ME | tasm!peter parker

PAIRING: high school senior!tasm!peter parker x high school senior!fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 3.9k

SUMMARY: you can’t help but feel insecure when you realize your best friend peter and the most famous girl in the school are keeping a sweet secret from you.

WARNINGS: cursing/swearing, awkwardness, jealousy, insecurities, self-loathing, reader is an overthinker and assumes things easily. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: G]

AUTHOR'S NOTE: inspired by taylor swift’s song with the same title. angst with happy ending. dedicated to @joshiiieeenesx, thanks for supporting me and requesting this. i hope you’re having a great day!

DESTINATION: Sweet Street | GO BACK TO THE STATION. CLICK HERE FOR ALL THINGS YBWM (reviews, commentary, etc. about this fic).

It was Friday Night.

Your favorite day and time of the week because of your tradition with Peter to order pizza and watch a movie. Tonight was a bit different though, you both decided to order your least favorite flavor of pizza and watch the lowest-rated movie ever. 

Peter made a joke in the middle of the movie, causing you to laugh and cover your face with your hands. It was a habit you developed since you were a kid when a bully made fun of you for having an ‘ugly-laughing’ face. “Stop,” he chuckled as he captured your wrists with his hands. “Stop what?” you questioned unknowingly, allowing him to hold your wrists and pull them away from your face. You stared at him confusingly.

“Stop covering your face when you laugh,” he said. “I can’t see your pretty face.” Peter would always make little comments here and there about you, most of them being compliments. You ought not to make it serious since you’d always tell flirty jokes to each other, but you just can’t help but feel a little flutter in your stomach every time he would compliment you.

You tried covering the increasing redness of your cheeks with laughter. “I’m serious. Stop covering your face,” he told you. “What if I told you I’m doing it on purpose?” you thought of a quick funny remark.  “And why, may I ask, are you doing it on purpose?” he quirked an eyebrow. 

“Let’s just say, if you see my beautiful face when I’m laughing, you might just fall in love,” you joked, smirking at him. There was a tinge of the color red in his cheeks, but he was quick to hide it with a chuckle.

“Well, why don’t you let me see your beautiful face then let’s see if I really fall in love?” he remarked. Once again, you laughed because you didn’t know how to respond. Peter was laughing with you when his phone suddenly rang. He quickly stood up, covering the name of the caller with his hand before walking to a private secluded room in his house to answer it. You didn’t mind it. After all, everyone deserved privacy when they’re talking to someone on the phone. Besides, you were actually quite thankful because the phone call interrupted the growing awkwardness in the room. You paused the movie while Peter talked on the phone in the other room.

Minutes passed and you were getting bored of waiting for him. You decided to pull your phone from your jeans pocket and open the Instagram app for a bit. Your feed was pretty much full of your schoolmates that were either busy preparing for prom next friday or busy with the upcoming game on Monday. You scrolled mindlessly, double-tapping each post from your close friends when you stumbled upon a post from her.

Gwen Stacy. Blonde hair, blue eyes, perfect body. The cheer captain, head of the planning committee, the smartest in school… well, not the smartest because that would be Peter… but still the smartest girl in school. Having all that, you’d think she was the type to be the typical mean girl, but no… she’s actually the nicest.

In the picture, she was smiling with the other cheerleaders, their teeth as white as snow and their faces as beautiful as barbie dolls even when they were sweating. Sometimes you just wonder if they ever had a bad hair day or they’re just perfect all the time.

“Please! Gwen, come on!” you heard Peter yell. Gwen? Why was he talking to Gwen Stacy?

“Really? Yes!” you heard him exclaim excitedly. A pang of jealousy hit your chest, the feeling was unwelcome because you knew he wasn’t even yours to begin with. But still, it hurt.

The next thing you heard was his footsteps nearing the door. You collected yourself immediately, greeting him with a smile as he opened the door.

“Sorry about that,” he smiled, with the same fucking smile you fell in love with. He sat next to you on the couch, subtly putting his arm on the back just around where your head was resting. He grabbed the remote from your hand, but for a few seconds, you felt it linger when his hand touched yours.

He pressed the play button and you both continued to watch the movie.

“Okay, just so we’re clear. You think Peter and Gwen are dating?” your other friend, Mary Jane, iterated on the phone. It was Sunday night, the only time MJ had free time this week since she was also a cheerleader.

“Yes,” you answered clearly. “I heard them talking on the phone the other night. Peter seemed really happy and excited.”

“And what do you feel about that?” she asked.

“Uh–I don’t know?” you admitted.

“I call bull. Come on, I know you’re in love with Peter.”

“Okay. I do have feelings for him… but I don’t think he feels the same about me. He probably asked Gwen to be his prom date even though we promised we’d take each other to the event.”

“So you’re not going to prom anymore?”

“I mean I already have a dress so I guess I’ll still go. It just sucks that I’ll be going without him.”

“Since when did you get a dress?!” 

“Uhh… since last week?” 

“And you didn’t even tell me?” she made a sound of absolute shock. Knowing her, you knew she probably had her hand on her chest while making that sound. “I could’ve helped you pick.”

“It’s not a problem honestly. Besides, I kinda wanted it to be a surprise?”

“Can you at least tell me the color?” she pleaded.

“Blue. Like the kind of blue in Spider-Man’s suit.”

“Weird way to describe a color. Is there a specific reason why you chose blue? I thought you never liked blue.”

“Okay, I’ll tell you but don’t tell anyone about this because I think Peter is kinda embarrassed about it… Peter is obsessed with Spider-Man. He’s such a huge fan of his–maybe even his number one fan. He even tried to hide it from me, but when I found a Spider-Man suit in his closet he just started getting really nervous and he only stopped when I told him it’s fine if he’s a fan. I’m not judging him, I think Spider-Man is really cool too,” you explained. “I was hoping he’d notice the color reference but now that he’s going with Gwen Stacy, I doubt he would even look at me.”

“You really think Peter would ignore you? Have you seen how that man looks at you?”

“He looks at everyone like that. It’s nothing special,” you denied.

“Listen, believe what you want to believe but I know Peter is definitely in love with you too. But if you did end up alone and out of place at the event, you’re welcome to sit with me.”

“Thanks, but you literally have a date. I don’t wanna be a third wheel,” you laughed. “I appreciate the thought though,” you exchanged goodbyes not long after that, wishing her good luck on their cheer performance.

You thought hard about what she said. Peter did become more clingy to you these last few months and he always made sure to text or call you every day. You guessed there really was a chance Peter shared the same feelings with you. 

Maybe he was just talking to Gwen as a friend.

You were at the gymnasium where you'd have to watch student-athletes pass the ball to each other, all having the same objective to shoot the ball in their respective goals. And when a member of a team claimed their shot, it would repeat all over again. 

You were never into sports. If you had a choice, you’d rather stay in bed and continue reading Looking For Alaska, but instead, you were stuck sitting on the bleachers while watching cheerleaders dance their routine in such a flawless manner. As much as you wanted to focus on MJ and support her, your eyes couldn’t help but look at Gwen. She really was mesmerizing.

You were too busy comparing her shiny legs and the way they moved with their short flowy skirts with your simple t-shirt and sneakers to even notice someone sitting beside you.

You continued watching Gwen dance, focusing on her pretty face and realizing that even in her sweaty condition she still kept dazzling everyone in the room with her beautiful smile. You noticed her wink in your direction. For a moment you thought she was winking at you, but when you followed the direction she was smiling at you noticed it was directed at someone beside you—Peter. 

Funny. You didn’t even know Peter was beside you.

“Hi?” you greeted, putting your best smile in front of him while your stomach ached from cruel jealousy.

“Hey,” he simply replied, before focusing on the phone he just got out of his pocket. He was busy texting someone. 

“So…you already have a suit for Friday?” you asked, trying to start a conversation. He shook his head. “Nope. But I plan on looking later today.”

“Cool. Do you want me to go with you? I don’t have anything to do after this,” you offered. 

He stopped and finally looked at you. You noticed how his eyes widened at your question and after mere seconds of looking at your eye, he looked away. He didn’t even need to open his mouth, his body language already told you that he already had someone he was going with.

You felt too sick to even hear his reply, immediately knowing the answer. You excused yourself, going straight to the bathroom to try to compose yourself and your body that was slowly starting to shake. You looked at yourself in the mirror, yelling inside your head to stop the tears that were threatening to fall. 

You and Peter were supposed to be inseparable. From childhood up until that moment earlier on the bleachers, you thought you would end up together.

All those years, you have convinced yourself you would be together and told the stars that he belonged with you.

But maybe he belonged with someone else.

And if you truly loved him, who were you to stop him from following his heart?

The moment you stepped inside the school tomorrow morning, Peter immediately wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

If it was yesterday or the days before, you would’ve loved it and your stomach would’ve already been swarmed with butterflies. But today, all it felt was aching pain.

“Hey,” he kissed your cheek, a thing he always did whenever he saw you at school. “MJ told me you went home early yesterday because you weren’t feeling well. Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve walked you home.”

“It’s fine, really,” you answered. It wasn’t fine, but how could you tell him he was the reason you couldn’t bear to stay at school yesterday?

“Well, I missed you. You got me really worried.”

And there it was again, the feeling of your heart jumping just from the words he said and how his voice spoke them. Was Gwen even okay with him putting his arm around your shoulder and walking with you in the hallways?

You did your best acting like everything was alright for the rest of today. Peter was busy texting Gwen for most of the time anyway, it wasn’t hard to convince him everything was fine.

Classes for Wednesday and Thursday were suspended to give way for prom preparations. You didn’t have much to do on Wednesday, so when MJ offered an idea to practice doing makeup and putting on the dresses to prepare for prom, you agreed.

You sat in your room in front of your vanity mirror while MJ did your makeup for you. She matched the eyeshadow with the color of your dress, and you must admit, she did amazing. Next was your hair, you requested it to be an updo, with the hairpins you picked out scattered attractively.

For a moment, you wondered what Peter could be doing right now. His house was just next to yours, his bedroom window facing yours and if you only pulled your curtains aside, you would see him through his window—if it wasn’t covered by his curtains.

Mary Jane snapped you back to reality by complimenting the details of the dress she just pulled out of your closet. “I need to see you in this dress now.”

You chuckled but complied nonetheless. With her help, you carefully put on the dark blue long dress. “Shit. This dress is made for you,” she complimented. It was true, you were indeed a vision. The dress hugged your body perfectly and the details were perfect to your liking. You never liked the color blue, but this dress got you second thinking. 

After putting on your heels, you checked yourself out in the mirror when MJ’s phone suddenly rang. “Peter? Hi,” she answered. As soon as she said his name, you turned around to face her.

“Are you okay?” MJ asked Peter. “You sound ill.”

“What’s happening?” you didn’t care anymore if Peter wasn’t talking to you. Something was wrong with him based on MJ’s reaction, and you were concerned.

“Oh my god.”

“MJ, what is it?” 

“Something is really wrong with him. I think we need to go to his hou–” she didn’t have the opportunity to finish her sentence when you immediately walked out of your room still in your dress and on your way to Peter’s house. MJ followed you but stayed outside Peter’s house. She smirked the moment you entered his house. Everything was going as planned.

Aunt May was thankfully on vacation somewhere, you couldn’t imagine her reaction if she saw you rushing towards her nephew’s room in a long dress and in heels. 

You carefully knocked on his bedroom door, announcing your presence. “Y/N?” he asked and you hummed in response. “I’m in here,” he answered from the next room. As far as you can remember, that room was an empty one. You weren’t sure why Peter was in there but in times of emergencies like this one, you didn’t care. “Can I open the door?” you asked.

“Yes.”

You did not expect what you saw.

The room was dark as a result of the windows being covered. On the floor were littered little candles with your favorite scent lit up to light the room in a romantic manner. There was an area left for you to walk leading to the middle of the room, which had a space just enough for two people. You also noticed the petals of roses scattered on the floor as a string version of your favorite song started playing. 

A figure emerged from the shadows—Peter. He offered his hand for you to take and only then when he led you to the middle did the fire from the candles revealed his outfit. He was wearing a suit that perfectly matched the color of your dress. You didn’t know how he knew the exact color of your dress, you would ask him that later.

You were both speechless, neither knowing what to say. “Wow…” he breathed out. “How could a person look so beautiful? You are unreal.”

“Thank you,” you blushed. “You look handsome too.”

He held your hand and guided it towards his lips, placing a soft kiss on the back of it before holding each of your hands with both of his.

“Peter?” you started to say. “What–”

“You know I prepared a whole speech just for this moment,” he interrupted. “And then as soon as I saw you, I just forgot every single thing in the world because you’re the only one that matters.”

Tears were starting to gloss your eyes but before you could start crying from his sentiment, you asked him a question that has been vexing you for quite a while.

“What about Gwen?”

His face was quick to react to your question. His forehead scrunched up, looking at you as if to tell you if you could emphasize your question.

“I thought you were together. You were talking to each other pretty much the whole week. You were texting and calling each other, she was with you when you picked your suit, and then I saw her wink at you at the game.”

His face slowly dawned with realization. As soon as he realized what you were talking about, he couldn’t help but laugh. But upon seeing your worried face, he stopped laughing at once and looked straight into your eyes with absolute seriousness.

“Gwen and I are nothing more than just friends. We are not together. We’ve been talking to each other a lot because I asked her for help on how to surprise you. She also helped me pick the right suit so I wouldn’t embarrass myself with a lousy one. She winked at me at the game because she was excited that after the game ended, we would set up this surprise. And also because I was sitting next to you in the bleachers, she kinda saw me stare at you while you were busy watching the cheer routine. The wink was just her teasing and being excited. It doesn’t mean anything, I swear. It’s only you. I only want you.”

“Shit. So I really just overthought the whole situation,” you chuckled. “I’m so stupid.”

“No, you’re not stupid. Don’t invalidate your feelings, It’s completely understandable. If I was you I’d think the same too.”

After a short moment of soft understanding silence, you felt him stiffen. His hands now held yours a little bit tighter. “Can I ask you a question?” he finally said.

“Let me guess, you want me to be your prom date?” you tried to ease the tension with the obvious question.

“Yes, and no.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I want to take you to prom, yes. But that’s not the only thing I want. I want to take you on dates, I want to dance with you not just at events organized by the school, I want to buy you flowers, every day if I can; I want to watch scary movies with you and laugh when you’re too scared and you hide yourself with a pillow, I want to watch sad movies with you and bring you tissues and cuddle you the moment you cry, I want to watch romantic movies with you and cringe together when the characters do something embarrassing and wrap my arms around you when you blush at something sweet that they do. I want the tears, the pain, the frustration, the confusion, the sweetness, the laughter—everything. I want everything. With you.”

“Pete…”

“We’re seniors. Next year, we’re going to college. We will take on different paths and places, but before that even happens, I want you to be my place that’s never changing. And if you feel the same, I want to be your place that’s never changing too. You have been my best friend since we were kids, and I don’t want my memory of us to be just two people being friends since childhood,” he said before resting his forehead against yours. “I am in love with you, Y/N L/N. Would you be willing to enter a relationship that’s more than friends with me?”

Tears glossed over your eyes again, but this time, you let one fall. Peter was quick to wipe it with his hand. “Tell me you don’t feel the same and I will not hold it against you. Tell me you don’t feel the same and I will not cross the line of being more than friends. Know that I will not force you into a relationship you do not want. Tell me if you don’t feel the same and I–”

“Yes,” you stopped him before he could finish his sentence. “The answer is yes. I am in love with you as well, Peter Parker. I have been for a long time.”

Peter smiled, now feeling his own tears try to escape his eyes but he didn’t let them fall. “May I dance with you?”

You chuckled but agreed, letting him guide you into position. Your forearms rested on his shoulders, your hands softly stroking the back of his neck while his hands were positioned at both sides of your waist. As the music still played in the background, you both started swaying.

“I can’t take my eyes off of you. You’re gorgeous,” he commented. “You don’t look so bad yourself. Your suit even matched my dress,” you said back.

“I’ll have to thank MJ for that.”

“Wait–MJ is a part of this?” 

“Of course, she is. How’d you think I knew the color of your dress?”

You suddenly remembered the conversation you had with MJ when she asked you about the color of your dress. And then you also remembered that MJ was the reason why you were even inside Peter’s house right now in the first place. Peter called her and then she said that something was wrong with him and urged you to come here. Where was she even now anyways?

Peter laughed as he watched your face change from confusion to realization. “You know what–I’ll give it to y’all. You, Gwen, and MJ are good at this,” you admitted.

“The dressing up with our prom outfits and dancing was my idea though,” he spoke as he guided you into a spin. “I wanted our first dance to be private, not in a room filled with other students.”

You saw him glance at your lips for a moment before looking back into your eyes. “I also want to do this,” he said as he leaned in closer and met your lips with his.

You’ve imagined this moment ever since your heart started beating for him. But still, the feeling of his lips against yours for real was better than what you’d imagined it to be. The kiss was soft but intimate, neither of you having a need to rush into things but at the same time making up for lost time pining over each other silently. You wished you could kiss him forever and stay like this but you eventually needed to pull away to breathe.

“So, you really thought I was in love with Gwen?” he teased while you were catching your breath.

“Way to ruin the moment,” you chuckled, lightly punching his arm before nodding.

“Shit. I really made you jealous?” he seemed really proud of what he had done from the way he was smirking.

“Are you happy?” you jokingly asked, rolling your eyes with fake annoyance.

“Am I happy? Of course, I am. I just kissed you.”

You couldn’t find the words to reply as you blushed harder than you’d ever blushed before. Instead, you just laughed out of blissful happiness.

For the first time ever, he saw you laugh without covering your face and it was the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. He couldn’t help but kiss you again.

Needless to say, the future was exciting.

If only he could tell you that he was Spider-Man.

SLYTHERHEIGN TAGLIST: @writingstoraes @joshiiieeenesx

TASM!PETER PARKER TAGLIST:  @mymilkducts @i-am-woman-strong @lauraneedstochill @jeanettexkillian @ms-mandalore @enaraism @alessandralol @sad-darksoul @sincericida @mentallystablepotato @mich0731 @logolepsic-insomniac @k0miiki @dreamsarecloserwithyou @jumilzzz @primroseparker @preciousbabypeter @myheartonthemove @rebecca-johnson-28 @silkholland @ellievickstar @okkulta @geekygamerchick @starqwerty20 ​ @the-quiet-observer @softiepeterpan

[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

[katsu28]

hii my love i hope ur okay <3

uhhh Sunflower - drunken rambling about their adoration ; with tasm! peter if u want to bcos he’s my babygirl djfjjs <3

— ivy <3

@inkluvs i adore u and peter <3

sunflower: drunken rambling about their adoration, tasm!peter parker x reader, 0.9k

You didn’t even know Peter could get drunk, honestly. Something about a higher metabolism from the spider bite allowing him to burn off alcohol fast enough so that he never actually got drunk no matter how much he drank. 

That assumption was quickly struck down when you heard knocking at your window at almost one in the morning, right when you were about to go to bed. 

It wasn’t uncommon for your vigilante boyfriend to swing by your place after a night of patrolling, always telling you that he wanted you to be the lasting memory at the front of his mind before he fell asleep. In a world full of bad, you were the good, and that’s what he needed to remember. 

Sometimes he was so tired he even stayed the night, passing out curled around you with his face pressed against your neck. Those were the times when he disappeared early before you woke up in the morning, only leaving you a messily scribbled note telling you he’d see you later. You kept those notes in a box on your desk and looked at them whenever you missed Peter a little too much. 

This time, however, you were surprised to see that he wasn’t in his suit like he usually was, just sweatpants and a hoodie under that battered army green jacket he always wore, still crouched on your fire escape rapping his knuckles against the glass with the dopiest grin on his face. 

“Peter? What—what are you doing here? Where’s your suit, someone could’ve seen you!” You were hurling questions at him at a mile a minute, but he just blinked slowly, swaying on his feet a little bit. 

“You’re so pretty.”

“Thank you?” 

“I mean it.” 

“Are you drunk?” 

“What? No, I’m…maybe. Just a little. Like, this much.” He held his thumb and forefinger barely an inch apart, snickering. 

“Yeah, sure,” You snorted, helping him through the window so he didn’t topple over into the room. As soon as his feet were planted on the ground, he kissed you, slipping his hand around the back of your neck. Peter tasted a little bit like beer, but you didn’t really mind, not when he was kissing you this deeply. “What was that for?” You panted as soon as you pulled away, bracing your hands against his chest after his kiss had stolen the breath out of yours. 

“Because you’re pretty. Because I love you.” 

“How much have you had to drink?” 

“Not a lot.” 

“Here, drink some water.” You went to grab the water bottle from your bedside table, but a web stretched past you before you could reach it, hitting the metal with a thwip and whipping it back into Peter’s hand. 

He took a large swig from it, snickering when you gave him a pointed look. “I’m not drunk, see. I totally nailed that.” 

“You’re so cool, Pete.” You hummed idly, tugging him out of his jacket and tossing it off to the side, guiding him towards your bed. He stumbled over his own socked feet a few times, but you were there to steady him. 

“Have I told you how much—how much I love you?” He hiccupped, flopping onto the mattress with no real strength behind the movement. You made a noise of acknowledgement, busying yourself with getting Peter’s sneakers off instead. “I love you so much it hurts, right here,” He jabbed a finger against his chest, right above his heart, letting out a small ‘ow’ with the force of it. You stifled a laugh, plucking the glasses off his face and setting them down next to your alarm clock. “You’re so smart, and—and sweet, and kind and…pretty. Did I say pretty yet?” 

“Yeah, I think you might’ve mentioned it.” Your mouth quirked into a warm smile at his drunken rambling. Even drunk, Peter knew how to make you feel loved beyond words. You switched off the lamp beside you, shrouding the room in darkness. The only light was the moon outside, and it washed over the softened angles of Peter’s face almost angelically. 

“Oh. Really? I don’t remember that.” He frowned, scratching his cheek aimlessly. Then he shrugged, picking up the edge of your blanket and shoving his lanky self under it, shimmying around until he was satisfied with his comfort. “Anyways, we’re atoms.” 

You had to stifle a laugh at his blunt statement. “What?” 

“Y’know, like, atoms? How they’re…what’s the fucking word, what’s the—oh! Attract! How they’re just, like, super attracted to each other.” He held one hand up above him, then the other a few inches away. “If this hand is you, and this hand is me, we’re like atoms. Attracted to each other.” He smacked his hands together, linking his fingers through each other. “You’d be a pretty atom.” 

“Pete, atoms repel each other once they get close enough.” 

Peter’s mouth dropped onto shocked ‘oh’, eyes widening. “No, no, I didn’t mean it like that! I just meant that you and—you and me, we’re meant to be together.” He turned his head to look at you, nearly going cross eyed at your close proximity. “Oh, hello! C’mere.” He pulled you into his arms without a second thought, tucking his chin over the top of your head and sighing contently. 

“I love you, you nerd,” You said softly, pressing a kiss against the hand closest to your face. When Peter didn’t respond after a few seconds, you furrowed your eyebrows, craning your neck to look up at him only to see that he’d already fallen fast asleep. You weren’t surprised, he’d been under a lot of stress lately and probably hadn’t been sleeping much because of it. 

All you could do was hope he’d sleep well here with you. 

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post a new fic :)

[mrshipsmcgee]

Golden beams of sunlight peek through the drapes, the warmth of a new dawn dancing across your face - the sounds of the insomnolent city wake you.

Quiet snores cause a smile to spread across your face as you turn to the beautiful man sleeping beside you, his cheeks squished against the pillow underneath his head, his hair wild. Despite the box fan being directly pointed at him, sweat beads lay across his forehead like a crown.

A human space heater, that man.

“Peter,” you breathe, your fingertips caressing his warm cheek before planting a tender kiss on the tip of his perfect nose.

He stirs, inhaling sharply as his eyes blink open - those honey eyes sleepily staring back at you through squinted lids.

He smiles, still blinking away sleep, “Morning, bug.” Peter’s voice is scratchy and deep.

God, you loved his morning voice.

“Good morning,” you say as Peter’s strong arms quickly snake around your waist, pulling you into his warm and sweaty chest.

“C’mere, it’s a Saturday morning - I’m not moving,” the bass of his voice vibrates against your cheek now pressed against his sternum. “I’m not going anywhere, especially because I have such a beautiful human in my arms.”

“Beautiful human?” You retort, pulling back from his embrace to look up at him - his eyes golden from the sunlight pouring into the room. A wide smile spreads across his handsome face as he giggles, shyly hiding his face in the pillow, kicking his leg over you and resting it on your hip, pulling you back into him.

“We should get breakfast delivered,” Peter says. “We should stay here all day, right here in this bed.”

“No Spiderman Delivery Service?” You ask, still wrapped in his arms. “He’s the fastest this side of town.”

“No no, Spider-Man is sleeping,” he says as he rolls himself on top of you.

“Ah,” you say, squished underneath the weight of Peter. “Well, I guess I’m just stuck here then.”

“Oh, I’ll stick you with something,” Peter smiles as he lazily ruts his hips against you.

“Peter Parker!”

Peter lets out a laugh, “oh, don’t Peter Parker me - I know you want this.”

“I do,” you smile.

“Yeah, you do,” he nuzzled his face into your chest.

—-

A/N: I don’t know what this is LOL I just felt inspired this morning. It may suck, but who cares because fanfiction is supposed to be fun :)

Anywho -

Happy Saturday! Love you guys <3

- Cait

[kjhbsies]

KJHBSIES’S FANFIC RECOMMENDATIONS

I’ll probably do more of this. 

Part II.

Angst

When I Ruled the World (James Potter x Fem!Reader) by sgrantsgf

How Tom Riddle would react to finding things that reminded him of you after you guys broke up by louiszeastronaut

Angst + Fluff

Why Didn’t We Work Out? (James Potter x Reader) by astonishment

Happily (James Potter x Slytherin Reader) by ro-is-struggling

Cake (James Potter x Fem!Reader) and Real Feelings by jamespotterwhcre

About What I Said Last Night (Sirius Black x Reader) by rainandhotchocolate

Moral of the Story ( Steve Harrington x Fem! Reader) and Sparks by refiwrites 

A Vintage Love (Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader) by ladymercury8

Love You Mommy (James Potter x Reader) by jamespottersmommy

Annoying (Steve Harrington x Readrer) by h4rring1on

“No, Please. Don’t Say That. You Love Her, Not me) by hello-everyfandom

Jealousy (James Potter x Reader) by whyennwhenyouareyn

Pov; you unintentionally confess your feelings for dbf!fwb!james by bellatrixscurls

“You Aren’t Gwen” Andrew!Peter x Fem!Reader by thebrookemunson

Missed Calls Tasm!Peter Parker x Reader and Part Two by caramelcal

Gamer!James Potter x Reader!Gf by ddejavvu

One Where You Try To Break Up With Him (Sirius Black x Fem!Reader) by proserpina-magnus

Fluff

Clingy James Potter by forourmoons

Doting (Fratboy!James Potter x Fem!Reader) by desireav

Golden Retriever James Potter x Black Cat Grumpy Reader by ddejavvu

James Potter x Shy!Reader by luveline

Gifting a Bra Strap to Boyfriend James Potter by ddejavvu 

Naked (James Potter x Fem!Reader) 

Marauders with Quiet S/O by ddejavvu

Your side (Sirius Black x Reader) by soupandsimple

Kiss Sick (Sirius Black x Reader) by luveline 

Remus Being A Boob Guy by ddejavvu 

Safe (James Potter x  non-gryffindor!fem!reader) by multiqts

Frustration (Poly!Marauders) by quindolyn

General Relationship Headcannons (James Potter x Reader) by quindolyn 

Sub!Eddie Using His Safeword by jamespottersmommy

Clingy Steve by indouloureux 

Smut

Picture Perfect (James Potter x Fem! Reader) by wrathspoet

Loose the Ropes (James Potter x Fem!Reader) by moonbcrry

Stress Relief (James Potter x Fem!Reader) by wrathspoet

Babyboy James Potter by littlest-dark-age

Jerking off James in a Secluded Area by weaselbrownie

Sore Loser (Draco Malfoy x Ravenclaw!Reader) by silverdelirium

His Obsession (Draco Malfoy x Reader) by Chanxrene

Unexpected (Sirius Black x Fem!Reader) by jamespotterwhcre

Bitter (Steve Harrington x Reader) by strawberrysodaslut

Playboy ( James Potter x Fem!Reader) by jamespottersmommy

Adore (James potter x Reader) by 1-800-amortentia

Welcome to the Jungle (Tarzan!James Potter x Fem!Reader ft. Researchers Sirius & Remus) by gxtitobxby

Summer Affairs (Best friend’s dad!James Potter x Reader) by lovegoodfics

Feels Too Right (Sex Therapist!James x Innocent!Reader) by bellatrixscurls

Best Friend’s Dad (James Potter x Reader) by itsmentalillness

Fit In (James Potter x Reader) by bellatrixscurls

Not Letting Sirius Cum For A Week After He Broke A Rule by indigoh4ze

Preacher’s Son (James Potter x Reader) by pinkcherryblossom

Room Service (James Potter x Reader) by gxtitobxby

This Ask (Sirius Black x Reader) by gxtitobxby

Best Friend James in a Subspace by eddiesbug

Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader by sweetiecutie

Curfew (King Steve x Reader) by theontrueneohero

Sirius Black Smut Blurb by siriusblackloml

How It All Began (Marauders x Fem!Reader) by bellatrixscurls

Punishing Sub Remus and Sirius by bellatrixscurls 

This Poly!Marauders Smut by bellatrixscurls

James in a Subspace in Public by bellatrixscurls 

[periprose]

I don't know if my ask got 'eaten' or not, but I did send it while I was on the road so I may have screwed it up anyway. My ask is based on your reblog of the 3 word sentences and if you care to, it's a twofer based plot: numbers 12 and 18 (just do it and you look lost) because I am a dithering decision maker except!! when I am going somewhere in which case my overconfidence gets me in trouble, something Peter knows too well himself. Love your writing!

unfortunately it did but I love this prompt so thank you for resending it!

Prompts can be found here

Peter is fairly sure that he's the one who's always late to everything. Every single seminar for this new Oscorp tech breakdown, he's the one who's five minutes late, and he swears it's not his fault.

It's just that he always happens to run into Spider-Man duties. He always finds another old woman who needs to cross the street, or a newspaper stand that has just been stolen from, and then after saving the day, he can make time towards catching the next subway train to Oscorp and hopefully run up the stairs, through the door, into the lobby, elevator, and then to the board room with a minute to spare. It always works out better in his head. 

He doesn't understand why Harry needs him there. Peter knows technology stuff like the back of his hand– he already understood what the seminar leader who oversaw the development of the new tech was saying halfway through the meeting, and basically put the concluding points together before the meeting was even over. 

Peter is nothing if not a good friend. Or employee who will be sent off with a strict warning if he doesn’t at least try.

This time, though? Peter has just made it to the subway station, and his glance catches onto a woman with a muted blue handbag, looking mostly competent and professional in a blazer, staring at the map, very obviously confused. He decides to be a good civilian and take a moment to help her. Just as Peter Parker, good guy who has two extra minutes to spare. Not because she happens to be a little more pleasant to look at than the rest of the passerby. She does really have bright eyes, though, and the way they catch onto every written detail of the map has Peter wanting those eyes on him.

Unfortunately, as she’s dithering and Peter approaches a little too slowly, about to work up the nerve to ask if she needs help, she suddenly mutters “Just do it! Who cares…” with a sudden bout of confidence, and she walks off towards the train heading North. The same train Peter is due to take.

Peter is kind of elated by this, even though he knows he’s a total dork and he doesn’t actually have the courage to speak to her. Even though Harry makes life sound like a romance movie– that apparently all it takes is the right conversation starter– Peter knows he can’t manage it. He’ll trip over his words and make the wrong jokes, and she’ll give him a polite nod while secretly dialing 911.

He’s just happy to have a commute crush to stare at.

The southbound train arrives from the opposite side of the road, and loudly beeps as the doors open.

Peter’s Spider-Sense goes off and he sees that a bunch of people are starting to exit the train, right into the poor woman who gets turned around a bunch of times and then looks utterly lost. Helpless. Eyes widening with the telltale fear of someone who doesn’t know where they’re going. 

Well, we can’t have that, can we? Peter decides to saunter up to her and be her hero of the day.

/

You are so horrible with making decisions sometimes. Unless, of course, it’s taking a new journey somewhere, with directions you’re not exactly familiar with– for some reason leaping into it headfirst works better, cements it into your brain better if you have to travel around these parts around later, and you usually have the time to figure it out.

Of course, this time you’re late. This time, when you need to present a great big presentation at Oscorp, where your big new tech job is, you’re late, and you had to be overconfident about figuring out the directions.

God, couldn’t you have just asked for help?

As you’re beginning to spiral– was it the north train, or the south, will this crowd ever dissipate properly, and is there time to look at your notes for your presentation on the train?– someone taps your shoulder.

“Hey.” A friendly looking guy with warm brown hair, and eyes, is staring at you, not unkindly. He pulls you aside, out of the crowd, and you’re thankful– but a little wary. 

“You look lost. Are you good?” The man has to lean in closer to you, and kind of yell-speak over the crowd, who are finally moving away to the above ground.

“Uh… No. I’ll be honest.” You cross your arms and huff, glad that someone could see that you needed help, and you feel a little happy that your saviour happened to be a smart, handsome guy who doesn’t look particularly judgemental, and you pull out your phone from your bag. “I’m trying to get to–”

“Oscorp?” He reads your phone and blinks, and then looks affronted that he spoke so soon. “Sorry. I just read your phone screen– I know that’s not proper etiquette. I’m going there too.”

“Uh-huh.” You fix your eyes on him, and Peter feels a funny twinge in his heart– something warm and soft as you size him up, making your own teasing assumptions of him. You half-smirk. “How do I know I can trust you? That you won’t just lead me to a random dungeon full of murdered women?”

You feel that you might’ve scared him off– you always come off a little too strong.

“Uhhhh, I was going to say I probably don’t look like a serial killer, but then again, you never know as a woman, right? Plus that’s some unnecessary bias and profiling on my part.” Peter fishes around in his pocket for his Oscorp ID, snorting at your joke, but also knowing that you’re not wrong to be concerned. “See? I’m Peter Parker. One of Oscorp’s biotech engineers.”

“Alliterative. Very cool.” You smile at him genuinely, glad to see that he is worth trusting, and he’s about to say something when the northbound train comes in.

“Hey, that’s us. Just two stops and then we’re at Oscorp.” Peter lets you walk ahead of him into the train, and you do so with some speed.

“Nervous?” He asks as the train starts going. He’s holding onto the loop for stability, while you lean against an arm rail. The train is kind of packed– and Peter is just a teeny bit happy for it, since it means he gets to stand a little close to you. He’s not trying to be a creep– you’re just cute.

“Very.” You shake out your hands, trying to chill out, and then reach inside your bag for your cue cards. “I’m starting out as a software developer– working on a genome editing program– and I’m doing a presentation on that today.”

“Oh, I’m in that seminar too. Although usually it’s just some dude presenting… not exactly someone like you.” Peter immediately facepalms, hiding in his hands for a moment before shaking his head, brown hair flopping about. “Sorry, I just mean… he’s not a cute girl, you know?”

Nice going, Parker. Peter groans and his hands remain on his face now, totally embarrassed by what he’s said.

“Oh–” You turn to him, but Peter interrupts you first.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t mean your looks are everything– I know how hard it is to be a woman in STEM, to get judged on things that have nothing to do with your credentials–” Peter swallows and sighs. “I’m not saying you were hired for your face– I’m sure you’re a very intelligent person.”

Peter feels your hand hesitantly touch his and move them, so he can get a look at your expression. You don’t look upset, just flattered, maybe with a hint of a laugh crossing your eyes.

“Hey, don’t worry. I didn’t take it that way. Good to know you’re not a typical STEM bro, though.” You read through your notes again, and Peter feels a bit of relief. “Thanks, by the way. You’re a cute guy too.”

You don’t know where exactly that came from, maybe an unexpected bout of courage bolstered by the adrenaline from your oncoming presentation, but it’s not like it’s false– this guy is very cute and you know you’re going to struggle if you have to work with him. You can’t quite look at Peter for the rest of the train ride, staring out the window. You catch a little grin on his face.

/

“So, genome editing, huh? That’s actually part of my work right now. Except more in the lab at the moment– working on synthesising frog DNA.” Peter shudders jokingly, and you laugh as you walk with him.

“Yeah, I’m basically the one who made the software program you’ll be using from now on. I just gotta make it easy for you guys to understand.” You inhale, and Peter can see that you’re still really nervous about your presentation. 

“Hey.” He gives you a comforting squeeze of the shoulder, in front of the building. “You got this.”

“Really?” You look up at him, bright eyes glassy with sudden fears. “But you don’t really know me, right? For all you know, I’m going to run out of the room with stage fright.”

“No way.” Peter grins, self assuredly. “You wouldn’t be talking to an almost stranger if that was true.”

“I mean… kind of true. I just don’t want to mess up.” You sigh and pinch your forehead, thinking it over.

“Okay, how about this?” Peter decides on something silly, but something that also allows him to shoot his shot. When else was a pretty software developer going to just fall into his lap like this?

He ignores that image. 

“If you don’t ace this presentation: who cares? People might be a little awkward about it, but they’re just people. It’s not a big deal.” Peter starts, and he sees you visibly brighten a little at that. “But if you do, you win something real special: a coffee date with Peter Parker.”

“Oh, I do?” You snort at his blatant flirting, but you can’t help but feel better with that potential date hanging over your shoulder. Peter Parker happens to be very sweet, at least so far, and you want to see just how far this could go. “Okay. I like the sound of that, but acing this presentation probably involves being there on time…”

You and Peter run through the lobby into the elevator– and you swallow your fears as you enter the boardroom, apologizing to the many developers and technicians about having to make them wait.

/

At the end of your very enlightening presentation– Peter knew there had to be no way he knew everything about this particular software since he had never tried it yet, and the fact that the original presenter seemed to be kind of vague on the details made it seem simpler than it was– you smile at him, and Peter grins back, knowing that he’s just won himself a date with you. 

[pedrito-friskito]

'til kingdom come - tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

the evolution of your relationship with peter parker.

a/n: my entry for the April TFC Writing Challenge! it was for a fic based on a song, (til kingdom come by coldplay - off the soundtrack!) I happened to watch The Amazing Spider-Man and No Way Home in the same weekend, and well, here we are. enjoy! 🤍 (just for the record - this would be no way home era tasm!peter parker, so at least a 5-6 years older than at the end of tasm 2!)

word count: 4.4k

warnings: mentions of car accidents, hospital stays, broken bones, fluff, not completely explicit but still explicit smut, this was INCREDIBLY self-indulgent and I regret nothing

✨@friskito-library for updates on new works!✨

You’re used to him disappearing, at this point.

To waking in the middle of the night to an empty half of the bed, the pillow still warm, the only sign that he was here at all your scattered clothes on the ground, the ghost of a kiss on your mouth, and the satisfied hum in your bloodstream. It’s routine, to a degree, and has you burying your face in his pillow, chasing whatever remnants you can until he comes back.

And he always comes back.

+

It started as some kind of strange, electric current that ran beneath your skin when this doe-eyed scrap of a man paused in the doorway of your hospital room. He heard you crying, walked in, concern in that chocolate-coloured gaze and asked you if you were alright. Given the circumstance, your leg casted six ways to Sunday and a painful crick in your neck, you blubbered out a no, but then he introduced himself - “Peter Parker, I’m…I’m Peter.” - as he handed you a tissue, and then all of a sudden he was sinking into the chair at your bedside, distracting you from the pain.

“You don’t even know me,” you protested, shaking your head.

He’d just lifted a shoulder, dragging the chair a little closer. He handed you another tissue, asked if you wanted some water. “If you told me your name, then I would.” His grin was infectious. “Besides, when I heard you crying, I couldn’t just keep walking.”

You talked for hours. Until the nurse came in and declared visiting hours over, your evening round of pain meds in your hand. Peter hovered as she pushed the syringe into your IV, and your vision swirled at the edges. Ah, morphine. “Say your goodbyes,” the nurse prompted, giving him a pointed glare. “Boyfriend can come back in the morning.”

“He’s not my…” you trailed off, the meds kicking in fast, making your words slur. Your hand flopped off the edge of the bed, and Peter could resist the urge to squeeze his fingers around yours.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he grinned, and you were out cold by the time he reached the door to your room.

You saw him the next day. And the next day. The day after that, and the day after that. He became a permanent fixture in the chair at your bedside, distracting you with anecdotes and cheesy jokes while your leg healed. He never showed up at the same time each day, but learned the visiting hours window quickly, and was good with his timing, always showing up within it. Your nurse still had to kick him out when he showed up later in the day, your visits often trailing well past the end of visiting hours, but she let him stay longer more than once.

He was there the day they discharged you, and helped you into the taxi to take you back to your apartment. He was patient, helping you up the steps and into the elevator, carrying your bags. At that point, you knew each other supremely well, and there was something so comforting about being around Peter, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

“You hungry?” he asked, setting you up on your couch, propping your leg up the way the nurse had instructed. “I’m no chef, but I make a mean boxed mac and cheese.”

“Everything in my fridge has probably gone bad,” you pouted, wincing as you adjusted slightly. “It’s been weeks since I’ve been home.”

“Shit. Right.”

“Pizza?”

He grinned, nodding in agreement. “Pizza.”

And so you spent the day together on your couch, watching old movies and eating pizza. Peter made sure you had water close by, doled out the meds the hospital had given you, fluffed your pillows. 

You forgot about the pain, and it wasn’t the drugs.

And before long, you were half asleep, as you were most nights when he visited you in the hospital. Except now, your head lolled on his shoulder, his t-shirt covered chest rising and falling beneath your hand. “I should go,” he mumbled into your hair. “Let you get some rest.”

“I can sleep here,” you mumbled back. “You can take my bed, if you want. You don’t have to go.” You hummed, your voice drenched with sleep, and then you were out like a light.

You woke some time later in your bed, your leg propped up on pillows, blankets pulled to your chin. There was a note on your nightstand, scrawled in a hasty hand.

Couldn’t leave you on the couch. Quite the first date, if you ask me. Hope you slept well - Peter x

Your eyes lingered on the words first date, and you tried to ignore the thump in your chest, but no matter what you did, it wouldn’t go away.

+

About a month later, after your cast was removed, the first few rounds of physical therapy done, and you were feeling good.

Good enough to call Peter out.

You’d finally gone back to work, and perched at your desk, staring out the window on your lunch break, you dialed his number. You’d seen each other a few times since you’d been discharged, the odd cup of coffee when you were both free. But the note he’d left at your bedside still lingered in the back of your mind. You needed to know.

“Hello?” he answered with a grunt, and it sounded windy as hell wherever he was. “You good?”

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, spine prickling at the concern in his voice. “Everything’s fine, I’m just…”

“You’re what?” he questioned, almost heaving a breath on the other line.

“Is this a bad time?”

“No, no, it’s fine.” He grunted, and there was a sound like he almost dropped the phone. “You’re what?”

“You called it a first date,” you spewed out, the words tumbling out of your mouth. “The day I came home from the hospital, when you stayed with me.”

“Uh, yeah, I guess I did.” You could almost see the blush in his cheeks. “Is that okay with you?”

“It is,” you said slowly, ignoring the whip of wind on his end of the line. “But you realize that calling it a first date implies that there’s gonna be a second date.”

“Does it?”

“It does.”

“Then how about I pick you up at seven?”

+

“I wasn’t gonna do this,” you breathed out against his mouth. His hands - god, his hands - were on your hips, pulling you against him while his lips ghosted over yours. He’d spent the elevator ride mapping out the curve of your jaw, making your pulse jump beneath your skin as he roamed your neck. “I was gonna make you wait, I was gonna-”

“Shut up,” he mumbled back, and his hands jumped from your hips to your mouth, pulling you more firmly against him, his lips claiming yours. “Fuck, you’re pretty.”

He’d knocked on your door at almost half past seven, and as you yanked the door open, some chastising comment about him being late, he’d pushed a semi-crushed bouquet of flowers into your hands, leaning forward and pecking your cheek as he murmured, “You look nice.” And the comment died on your tongue.

Dinner was great. The conversation passed between you as easily as ever. You talked about work; your journalism gig was busy as ever, and when you told him you had Spider-Man to thank for your latest front page article. “Your pictures worked perfectly,” you said over the rim of your wine glass, not missing the way his ears turned red. “It was the perfect cover shot.”

“I’m glad.”

A few hours of conversation, a brief tussle over who would pay the bill - Peter won, claiming that it was your article that put his photo on the cover, so he owed you one - and you were walking back to your apartment. You had to stop a few times, rubbing at a rogue pain in your leg, and after the second time, Peter tugged on your hand until you were behind him, then gestured for you to hop up.

“Are you insane? Peter, I’m not light, you can’t-”

“I carried you to bed on our first date,” he quipped, dropping his hands and turning around. He watched the puzzle pieces fit together in your expression, the details sussing themselves out. It formed a little dip between your brows, and he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and smoothing his thumb over it.

“You did, didn’t y-”

And then he kissed you. Right there on the street, lamplight pouring over the both of you, the slight pain in your leg forgotten.

You were speechless when he pulled back, and a moment later, you were on his back, the pair of you striding towards your apartment.

He’d kissed you again in the lobby as he set you back on your feet. Again as you waited for the elevator. When it was blessedly empty, he crowded you into the corner and pushed his face into your neck, teeth scraping your pulse. When your breath hitched, he did it again. Again and again and again.

Then, inside your apartment, he pushed you against the wall, quieting your words, drinking them down with his hands on your face. Your blood thumped in your ears, heat flaring between your legs as he pushed his tongue between your teeth.

Fuck waiting.

He was careful. Gentle, even, as he snaked his hands back down your body, glancing around the curve of your ass before he was gripping behind your knees, lifting you up and against him. You squeaked at his strength, wrapping your arms around his neck as he carried you down the hall to your bedroom. You undressed each other slowly, lips never far apart as clothes scattered across the floor.

Something like panic flared in your eyes when you saw the bruises along his ribs, the scratch at his collar, but he kissed you again, silencing your worries when he snuck his hand down your front, fingertips licking at your nerves, pulling sensations to the surface of your body you hadn’t felt in a while.

The carefulness continued, both of you bathed in the darkness, the only source of light the slit in your curtains. Peter moved differently in the dark, somehow anticipating every move you made, as you explored each other. He pulled noises from you you didn’t think yourself capable of, making you cum hard once on his tongue before he was crawling over you on the bed, the ends of his hair tickling your skin as he made his way up to your lips once more.

There was that moment of realness, that pause of trepidation that filled the space between you when you fished a condom out of your nightstand. He hissed when you moved your hand over him, following his movements, tracing his outlines.

When he pushed into you, your good leg wrapped around his hip, his hands braced around your head, his face buried in your collar, you lost what little breath you had left. He managed to find every last nerve you needed touched, and it wasn’t long before you were losing it again, your head thrown back on the pillow, fingers buried in his wayward hard.

You fell asleep shortly after, curled on your side, Peter glued to your back.

But when you woke up, he was gone.

+

Peter avoided you as long as he could.

He felt bad about it, obviously, the guilt tugging at his insides anytime he saw something that reminded him of you, caught a scent in the air that smelled suspiciously like your shampoo.

He hadn’t wanted to leave. Truthfully, he could have stayed there in your bed all night, even if sleep evaded him. He would have watched you for hours, committed every inch of you to memory as you slept, maybe woke you up once or twice with his mouth or his hands or a combination, just to hear those sweet noises of yours again.

But then his senses had prickled, the scream of alarms outside reaching his ears. You stayed soundly asleep, your brow furrowing again. Despite everything in him yelling that he needed to go, Peter reached out, swiped his thumb across the dip in your skin yet again. It hadn’t disappeared when he’d kissed you hours ago, his movements taking you slightly by surprise, but then, your lashes fluttering with dreams, it smoothed out beneath his touch, and he smiled.

He didn’t want to leave.

He was falling for y-

The thought cut short. He shook his head, snuck out the fire escape and climbed to the roof of the building, pulling his gear out of his bag and disappearing across the city, his senses chasing the alarms.

The thought, and the feeling that accompanied it, wouldn’t leave him alone. Even when he went back home, Aunt May chiding him to eat him something when he appeared in the kitchen the next morning, his mind wandered back to you. You would have woken up alone, the only evidence he was there in the first place being the condom in your garbage can. 

And the sucked bruise he’d left on the inside of your thigh.

He was a mix of longing and guilt, heat and despair. His body begged him to go back to you, to apologize as many times as it took for you to let him kiss you again. But his mind said no, told him it was too soon, that his past was too fresh.

But could you really put a timeline on grief?

He’d never forget Gwen, never forget the way he’d held her that night, the way life had so cruelly ripped her away from him. She was a part of him, forever. No amount of time would change that.

Aunt May’s voice echoed in his mind. What she’d said when he found her packing Uncle Ben’s things into boxes.

You’re throwing his stuff away?

No, god, no. I couldn’t do that. It’s part of me. I’m just finding a better place for it. I’m gonna take one last look, and I’m gonna put it where it belongs.

For years now, he wasn’t sure what to do with everything he felt for Gwen. It still loomed around his heart, clutching at him like a vise, sneaking up on him at the most inopportune of moments. The love he’d had for her, it had nowhere else to go, so it sat in him, brewing like oversteeped tea, making him feel sour for what he’d lost.

Finding a better place for it.

Put it where it belongs.

He intended to call you that day. He was running late for an appointment, rushing through the city streets, when he collided with someone, a cup of coffee falling to the sidewalk at his feet. He narrowly avoided the hot liquid, cursing under his breath, and then he caught the scent of your shampoo, forcing himself to ignore the way it twisted his gut.

But then he took a deeper breath, and realized it wasn’t just the smell of your hair. 

It was you.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, shame and guilt washing his cheeks rosy. “I’m so sorry, I’m-”

“It’s okay, Peter,” you said, rising to your feet, now-empty coffee cup in hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

He pulled you to the side, avoiding the coffee spill, dragging you into a doorway a few steps up from the sidewalk. You went willingly, but he could see the hesitation in your eyes, and he couldn’t blame you. Your eyes darted anywhere but his face, leaning back against the doorway, chewing at your lip.

“I screwed up,” he said bluntly, and that had your eyes zipping to his. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to sneak out on you, or avoid you, or any of it. I just…I’m sorry.”

Your brow lifted slowly. “You keep saying that.”

“Would you give me another chance?” he asked, the words still pouring out of him. “Please?”

Your chest lifted as you inhaled deeply. “I don’t hear from you for weeks, you come out of nowhere and spill my coffee, and you ask me for a third date?” Your tone was almost flat, but there was a quirk at the corner of your mouth you couldn’t hide. 

Daringly, Peter took a step forward, crowding into your space. His hand hovered for a moment before he lifted it, curling his fingers and letting his knuckles trail down your cheek. Your eyes fluttered and he took another step.

“Yes,” he breathed, leaning down until his forehead was pressed to yours. His knuckles caressed your cheek again. “Please.”

Your next inhale was sharp and you tilted your head back, the tip of your nose moving along the curve of his. “I swear to god, Peter Parker, if you disappear on me again, I won’t-”

He was too busy kissing you to hear the end of the sentence.

+

Three days later, you had him in your bed again. It was an interesting evening, to say the least.

You made him wait this time. Sort of. It was your fourth date now, technically - you’d held out after the dinner he’d taken you to after your collison on th street - but the way he’d kissed you goodnight after this one had you saying fuck it to waiting yet again. There was something different about him, something less haunted in those dark eyes, something less hurried behind his movements.

Your kisses lingered in the elevator, the doorway, the hallway. You drank glasses of water in the kitchen, and Peter was distracted, his eyes catching on the drafts of your latest articles, spread out on the countertop. “No more Spider-Man?”

You lifted a shoulder. “No one’s seen him around in a while,” you answered, stepping close to him. “Plus, my favourite photographer disappeared on me.”

He cracked a smile. “Well, he won’t do that again, I’ve got it on good authority.”

Your smile echoed his. “Good.”

But then just as quickly as it had appeared, the smile faded. “Listen,” he started, his brow going hard, rubbing his hand up the back of his neck. “I promised myself I’d be honest with you, and there’s…there’s something I gotta tell you.”

“Okay,” you said slowly, tilting your head to the side as you set your glass down. “So tell me.”

He braced both hands on the sink, pressing his lips together for a long moment before his head turned in your direction. “It was me that saved you that night. The car accident, when you broke your leg.”

Your brows pulled down, instantly confused. “No, it wasn’t. Peter, we didn’t even know each other back then, it was-”

The cops had told you who it was, your nurse repeating the story with the tiniest bit of disdain. It was what had inspired your front page piece, when you finally went back to work. A thank you, of sorts. It was-

“Spider-Man,” Peter says, his jaw hard enough to cut glass. Your head is spinning. “That’s me. I’m Spider-Man.”

You started laughing. Giggling like mad, nearly bent in half. “What are you-”

Without a word, Peter stepped away from you, one hand held palm up, and jumped. The ceilings in your apartment were low, but it was still a good three feet above your head. His bare hand connected with the ceiling…

…and stuck.

He swung slightly, staring down at you, his lips still pressed together.

“You…saved me?” you murmured out, your voice dropping as he did, his feet back on your kitchen tile. You weren’t sure whether to laugh or cry. Your memories of the accident were hazy; you’d spun out, your car diving off the edge of the bridge and into the river below. You remember being filled with fear as soon as the car hit the water, but the impact knocked you out. You woke up in the hospital later on, and the cops filled you in, told you that Spider-Man had carried you into the emergency department.

Peter just nodded. His shoulder lifted. “It’s kind of what I do.”

“But then you…?” you trailed off, your brow scrunching again.

He closed the distance between you, his thumb smoothing between your brows, something of a habit of his that you were already growing used to. “Then I came to see you in the hospital. I had to. I had to make sure you were okay.”

“You…You’re Spider-Man.”

He smiled as his hand moved around the outline of your face, his thumb now riding the curve of your lower lip. “I’m Spider-Man.”

“I’m having sex with Spider-Man?”

“I thought we were dating, too.”

You pushed at his chest, curling your fingers in the collar of his t-shirt and tugging him close. “I’m having sex with Spider-Man.”

The corner of his mouth lifted, and you kissed the grin off his mouth. He moved faster than your eyes could track, grabbing you up into his arms, carrying you down the hall to your bedroom.

+

You lay sprawled in your bed hours later, the sun long gone. Peter is stretched out, his arm tucked behind his head, while you are laid on his chest, your chin resting on your hand. You’d only stayed quiet when he’d had his mouth on yours, your questions deterred while he was busy having his fill of you, making those sweet noises echo off the walls of your bedroom. He wasn’t sated, not by a long shot, but he could see the questions on your face as you both came down, chests heaving.

“Go ahead,” he prompts you, tugging you close. “Ask me.”

He tells you everything. He fields every question, tells you as much truth as he could bear. He doesn’t hold anything back, his words spilling out faster with every question on your lips. Soon enough, you’re kissing the words out of each other’s mouths, tangling in the sheets once again.

And then you have a secret of your own to share.

“I’m in love with you.”

His heart stalls in his chest. Every feeling he’d battled over the last few months brought back to the surface. “I…” His eyes search yours, so full of emotion - so full of truth - he feels guilt crawl up his throat. 

He’s told you about Gwen. You know what happened, you know the story. And you hadn’t pressed him for details, when he first brought it up. You were in the hospital still, laid out in that bed, him perched in the chair beside you. Your fingers had curled through his when he first brought it up, your eyes shining back at him. “It’s okay, Peter. I…I lost someone too. A long time ago. I get it.”

He wants to. He wants to tell you the same. He wants to admit it - to you, and to himself, finally.

But…

“I can’t,” he says, the words feeling like lead weights on his tongue. “I just-”

“It’s okay, Peter,” you reply, an echo of what you’d said when he’d first told you. “I get it, I just-”

He grabs your forearm, pulling you further up his chest, until he can bury his hand in your hair, his kiss cutting off your sentence. “Can you trust that I want to? That I want to say it, I just…need time? I’m not gonna ask you to wait for me, but if you-”

It’s your turn to cut him off, your mouth lingering on his. “I can wait, Peter. I will wait.”

+

And so it’s continued. More dates, more nights spent in your apartment. Walks through Central Park, dinners at Aunt May’s. May is in love with you from your very first meeting, which Peter predicted, and it’s all too easy to fall into the patterns, to become an even steadier part of each other’s lives.

Every time he has to go, his senses pulling him to another corner of the city, he sees the concern in your eyes. “Be careful,” you beg him, kissing him soundly. “Come back to me.”

“Always will,” he grins, returning the kiss, ducking out the window.

And he always does.

But now, he’s been gone for hours. You’ve been checking the news like a crazy person, scrolling on your phone, refreshing your best sources every few minutes. But nothing. You even go so far as to call the hospitals, making sure he hasn’t turned up in an emergency department somewhere. You can’t tell May; you can’t worry her like this.

Hours turn into days. You deter May’s worried calls with a white lie that Peter has food poisoning and has been sleeping it off at your place. Almost two days, and your worry is at an all time high. This is different. Something feels different, something you can’t quite put your finger on.

All you can do is wait. You told him you would.

+

The weird tingling from Dr. Strange’s spell fades, the brightness clouding his vision fading away, and Peter finds himself standing in your living room. A glance at the kitchen clock tells him it’s very early, and as the exhaustion of the last forty-eight hours starts to set in, already making his limbs heavy, he heads for your bedroom, stripping out of the suit as he goes.

By the time he steps through the doorway, he tosses the suit in the direction of your laundry bin. His mind is still spinning, churning with everything he’s witnessed in the last few days. He doesn’t really know how to make sense of it all, but there’s one thing he has to do.

“Hey,” he murmurs, reaching out and covering your shoulder with his hand, shaking gently as he pulls the blankets back with his other hand.

You grumble for a moment, your eyes cracking open, but when you see it’s him, you surge upwards, throwing your arms around his neck. “Peter!”

“Hi, baby,” he mumbles into your neck, dropping the blanket and wrapping his arm around your waist, the other finding a home in your hair. “Sorry I disappeared on you.”

“What happened?” you cry, pulling back, taking his face in your hands, your eyes instantly inspecting him. “You were gone for two whole days, I didn’t know what to-”

He kisses you hard, wrapping your hair around his knuckles. You return the affection, holding him as tightly as he’s holding you. “I wanna tell you what happened, but I don’t totally know myself? All I know is that I’m exhausted, and there’s something that I do have to tell you.”

You pull him down into bed, instantly fitting yourself against his side, pulling the blankets over you both. Puzzle pieces falling into place. Your brown furrows, and he moves his thumb over the dip. “What is it, Peter? Tell me.”

He drags his knuckles down your cheek. “I’m in love with you, too.”

THE END.

[reidshearts]

loverboy ↶*ೃ

pairing, TASM peter parker au x fem!reader

If you went back four years you would have never believed you'd be dating your childhood best friend. I mean of course you had a giant crush Peter but you were too scared of the rejection you somehow were convinced was going to be the outcome.

Yet here you are years later curled up beneath the sheets of his bed pulling the covers higher to try and gain some warmth from the cold winter air blowing outside the closed windows. Your eyes moved around the room to find a way that would distract yourself from the coldness and decided to focus them on your boyfriend who lazed in his desk chair, back hunched over the table attempting to sew up the cuts in his spiderman suit from his last outing.

"Fuck", the boy cursed as he pricked himself with the sewing needle again, lifting his thumb to his lips.

"Pete, i love you but please come to bed and you seriously can't sew for shit" you tried to convince him as you lifted yourself up to lean your back on the headboard of his bed. This was the hundredth time the boy (or ‘man’ as tried to convince you many times before ) had repeated the small action and cursed somehow creating a new profanity each time while wiping his hands on his tank top. And despite finding his toned arms attractive, you knew you had to get up early the next morning.

He childishly stuck his tongue out at you for the comment but reluctantly left the suit and sewing kit on his desk, "fine, but promise me you'll help me with it tomorrow?" Peter replied, and you nodded your head whilst admiring him with a loving look.

"Anything for you lover boy", was all you could say before the words got stuck in your throat as Peter stretched his arms above his head from being sat down for too long and a blush arose on your cheeks as his tank top slid up so his toned torso was on display. You swiftly looked away and focused on your hands that rested in your lap twisting around the silver band with a spider imprinted into the metal, a birthday present from Peter last year.

The spider-boy caught your glances and smiled to himself and shook his head at your innocent blushing. Briefly sticking his head out the door to shout out a goodnight to his aunt May who was awake watching her favourite show downstairs in the lounge, and he then switched off his desk light to join you under the covers.

You both laid down and got into your comfortable positions: your legs tangled together with your head on his chest while his arms were wrapped around your waist lifting you to lay on him. This was the only way either of you could fall asleep and Peter often climbed through your window late at night hoping you'd let him in and help him get to sleep.

"Goodnight m'love", he mumbled to you while placing two kisses upon your forehead and cheek.

"Night petey", you whispered as you both drifted to sleep wishing each other peaceful dreams.

[reidslovely]

Hi Bambi!! Happy belated birthday :) 💕

I love your Peter, could you do some headcanons for him comforting you? I feel like he’d be so sweet and goofy (Thank you ❤️ and love you)

abby!! thank you for the birthday wish honey!! sorry this was a bit rushed I have a big paper due next week so I wrote this in the middle of my break. hope you enjoy it even the tiniest bit🫶🏼

birthday bash requests end tonight if anyone wants to send in any last minute requests.

please reblog/comment

He is almost sickeningly sweet when he sees the distress on your face. It doesn’t actually even have to be on your face. He just feels it, maybe it is a part of his spider sense…he’s not 100% sure. He just knows when it happens. 

In fact he starts feeling weird a couple minutes before you walk through the door. The hair on the back of his neck standing up. He sat up straight trying to piece together where this is coming from. He wasn’t sensing danger, but he was sensing he need to help something 

From the moment you walked in the door he picked up on what it was. Like the puppy dog he is, he’s up and on his feet in a matter of seconds rushing to you. His hands on your face smiling at you with his puppy dog eyes. 

“Wanna talk about it?” He asks softly kissing your face, hands rubbing down your shoulders holding your wrists. 

“No..kind of I don’t know.” You would mutter, putting your head between his shoulder and neck 

Peter would hum in response, his hand coming up to tangle into your hair rubbing your scalp slowly. He would just stand there holding you for however long you’d let him..which lets be honest is basically forever. He’s just so soft and warm, it’s like your own personal teddy bear. 

He would be so sweet and patient for the rest of the night if you decided you didn’t wanna talk about it, but still doing everything in his power to keep you from thinking about it. Ordering take out from the chinese place up the road, your legs spread across his lap as you sit on the couch watching shows you two would never admit to actually liking. 

Cracking his worst (best) dad jokes to anything he could relate them too on the show, having you cracking up in a matter of seconds and laughing from the mire thought of them even minutes later. He liked hearing you laugh, he knew how hard life could be and how hard you took things sometimes. It was one of his favorite things about you. 

You were sensitive to small things, you saw the world differently than himself or anyone else around the two of you. He liked that you had a unique take, and it made you like him in a way. You're both so prone to big emotions or reactions from things that seem so small and miniscule to the outside world that he was happy to be with someone who understood. 

Some who would do this for him also. 

He does spend the rest of the night absolutely babying you though (sometimes we all need to be babied when we are going through it no shame). He helps you change your clothes and get ready for bed because he knows how hard that can be when you’re sad/not feeling good. 

Peter definitely cuddles you all night, even after you’ve fallen asleep head tucked securely against his chest or in his neck. He’d lay there for as long as he could just watching you sleep, kissing your head, thinking about how tomorrow is a new day for you both.

______________

tags: @helloheyhihowdyheya @toomanyfictionalboyfriends @megmehz @sincericida @andrews-lovr @eevylynn @a-lumos-in-the-nox @raajali3 @ateliefloresdaprimavera @lunaleah @adhdhufflepuff

[bellarkeselection]

Hey i was wondering if you could do a spider man (aka peter parker short

Where y/n has been hurt . And he thinksnits his fault but she Reassures him it wasnt his fault

Nothing is your Fault

The city streets were extremely busy as usual. With everyone moving about like they were all in a rush with no patience. Most of them running late and the others not really giving a crap. Regardless that didn't help when I had a twisted ankle that I had yet to get checked out by a doctor. I had been super busy with trying to decide what I was going to college for and helping my secret superhero boyfriend. I have been dating him for two years but I won't lie that it was a surprise when he revealed to me that he was what people were calling Spider-Man. During my walk someone dropped down behind me where I spun around on my feet seeing it was my boyfriend Peter. "Hey baby, I was doing some patrol and I saw you were limping. Is everything okay?" He ran a hand through his hair slumping his shoulders walking up to me smiling in concern.

“Oh uh thanks for checking up on me, Peter. But seriously everything is fine. I just needed a walk to clear my head. So how was the patrol?” I asked shrugging my shoulders where he started walking right beside me. Since he was taller I had to walk every two steps to his one just to keep up. He pushed his hands inside his pockets sending me a cheeky look. I could tell he enjoyed that we could talk about his secret double life since he couldn’t tell anyone else. “It went good. Nothing much really happened except for some traffic lights being out. Are you sure you’re alright because you are limping on that leg. Did it happen from the other day we went out swinging?” Peter asked a second time gently holding my forearm seeing that I was putting most of my weight on my other foot. Dropping my gaze to the ground I sighed in defeat remembering that we went web swinging a few days ago. I accidentally fell onto the floor of his bedroom a little hard where we almost got caught by his aunt May. “I landed hard on my ankle that day but I didn’t start feeling any pain until today. Now I’m sorry for not telling you but it will go away when I put some ice on it because it is juicy sprained.”

Suddenly before I had any real time to react Peter wrapped an arm around my waist tugging me closely into his embrace. He quickly looked around making sure no one was paying close attention before he shot some webbing out of his blasters. We swing from a couple buildings until we swing inside my bedroom window that I had left opened cracked since I was expecting him to come by later. “Look I am so sorry now I am going to take care of you. Because this is my fault and you’re my girlfriend.” He sat me down on the bed lifting my foot up so it was elevated on the pillow. He came back from the closet wrapping me in a blanket where I could see that he was starting to pace back and forth in a nervous manner. “Peter, hold up. This is not your fault. Come here sit.” Grabbing one of his web shooters I was fixing I shot some at him tugging him into my bed where he fell down beside me. Moving my hand up to his face I smiled laying my head on his chest. “You don’t have to blame yourself. It’s just a light sprain on my ankle. I’ll just put some ice on it for a few days. Now just cuddle with me please.” He nodded wrapping his arms around my waist where I snuggled into his embrace. “I’ll be more careful next time we go web swinging Y/n. I promise that.” He mumbled into my hair before I gave him a soft kiss smiling back at him.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

@makeshift-prime @rosie-posie08 @mcugeekposts

[bxcketbarnes]

The Window

Pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x Reader

Words: 2500+

Even though I’m sick I managed to finish this fic! I sacrificed some sleep for it, but I believe it was worth it. I really hope you guys like it! I’m slowly getting back to my normal writing self. Enjoy! xox

"Y/N, I truly believe that Peter likes you," Gwen tells you through the phone.

A sigh leaves your lips as you wrap a towel around your body, tucking it so it stays in place.

You grab an extra towel for your hair before walking into your bedroom, taking your phone with you. "Gwen, you know I hate talking about this," you mention.

"I know, but it's the truth. I've seen the way he looks at you."

You sit on the edge of your bed, holding the phone close to your face as her words replay in your head. "He looks at me like any friend would," you shake your head and glance towards the window.

A gasp leaves your lips when you notice Peter crouching outside your closed window. You spring up from your spot, telling Gwen you must go before hanging up.

Your cheeks flush at the fact that you're standing in nothing but a towel. You thrust the window open before Peter tumbles into your room.

"Pete, what are you doing here?" You ask him while taking a step back.

His hands find themselves on your arms for a few moments before a hiss leaves his lips. Your eyes drop down to the bloody wound on his ribs.

"I got into a bit of trouble," he whispers while slowly dropping to the floor. "I didn't know where else to go."

"Jesus," you mumble and kneel beside him, inspecting the wound without touching it. "Let me get the first aid kit."

You spring up from the floor, grabbing your clothes from the bed before moving into your bathroom. You quickly change into your pajamas and grab the first aid kit from under the sink.

You tuck some hair behind your ear and walk back into your bedroom. In your absence, Peter tugged off the top half of his spidey suit.

Oh my… Your cheeks blush as your eyes glance over his defined torso. You press your lips together and kneel right beside him. "It doesn't look too bad," you mumble while opening up an alcohol pad.

You wipe it against the wound, a hiss leaving Peter's lips. Your free hand gently presses against his abs, keeping him in place as you wipe up all the blood.

Silence fills the room as you clean him up, your gaze fixed on the cut. Peter pushes some of your hair back as you place a large bandage on his ribs. "You okay?" He whispers to you, causing your eyes to flick up at him.

"I should be asking you that," you chuckle softly before sitting on your heels. You glide your fingers over the clean bandage, making sure it stays in place.

"I'll be fine, you know that," he reminds you while giving you a look. You smile softly and nod your head, knowing that he heals faster than a human. "You seem down."

You shrug your shoulders and push yourself up from the floor, grabbing the trash beside you. "I'm okay. I’m just going through some stuff. Nothing I haven't handled before," you reassure him, gliding your free hand through his hair.

Peter watches you walk into your bathroom, tossing the trash into the waste bin. He places a hand over the wound before picking himself up. "You know I'm here for you, right?" Peter asks, his eyebrows furrowing together.

"Of course, Pete," you laugh, heading back into your bedroom.

The two of you sit down on your bed and you reach for your phone. You notice a text from Gwen, asking if everything was okay. You make a mental note to text her later before placing the device on your nightstand.

"I interrupted something, didn't I?" He questions with a chuckle, overseeing the text.

"It was nothing," you tell him, leaning your hands against the mattress. "You know how Gwen is. Always meddling with my love life."

Peter looks down at his hands, his fingers fumbling with each other. Your love life? He asks himself, wetting his lips. "What's going on in your love life? And why haven't you told me?" He glances towards you.

The smile drops from your lips, seeing the serious look on his face. "P-Peter, i-it's nothing like that," you stutter while sitting up straight.

"Then why is she so adamant?"

"I-I don't know. It's Gwen," you play off, chewing on your bottom lip.

Peter hums before reaching for your hand, taking it into his. Your heart pounds against your chest as his fingers lace with yours. "You would tell me if you like someone, right?" He asks in a quiet voice.

"Y-Yeah," you lie, feeling his hand squeeze yours.

"You realize I can tell when you lie to me," he chuckles before releasing your hand.

A sigh leaves your lips and you adjust your seating position, turning your body slightly to face him. "Sorry, it's just… it's complicated," you murmur, keeping your eyes on your lap.

"Do I know him?" Peter asks you, hearing the sadness in his voice.

You lift your gaze, a little confused as to why he sounds sad. "Uh, maybe? We all go to the same school," you shrug, concentrating on not revealing your lie.

He hums in response before standing up from his spot. You watch him walk out of your room and you let out a deep breath. That was close…

"Pete?" You call out to him after a minute of him being gone.

You push yourself off of your bed and stand in your doorway, looking into your semi-small apartment. He stands at the sink in your kitchen, downing a glass of water.

"Are you planning on staying here tonight?" You ask him while crossing your arms over your chest.

"I think I might head home. I don't want to worry Aunt May," he mentions, setting the empty glass into the sink.

He walks past you, his shoulders bumping yours during his passing. You swallow the lump in your throat as your gaze follows him. Peter rushes to put the top half of his suit back on before he grabs his mask.

"Are you mad at me?" You ask him just as he opens your window. "Are you mad that I won't tell you who I'm in love with?"

The brunette glances back at you, noticing the glossiness in your eyes. "You're in love?" He asks you, a crack in his voice.

He doesn’t give you enough time to answer him as Peter pulls the mask over his head before jumping out your window. The dam of emotions starts to break as you slowly walk over to the window, looking out of it.

You can see his silhouette swinging in the distance when the tears start streaming down your cheeks. "I'm in love with you," you sigh.

-

It's been a few days since your altercation with Peter and you feel he's ignoring you. No matter how many times you try texting or calling, you get nothing.

Gwen hands you a glass of water and a couple of ibuprofen. You release a groan, pushing the items away before trying to get up from your couch.

"W-Why did we come home? I was having a good time," you whine, your words beginning to slur.

"Because you're drunk enough," Gwen sighs, setting the water and pills onto the coffee table. "Don't make me call Peter."

A scoff leaves your lips as you walk into your kitchen. I've got a liquor bottle around here somewhere. You think to yourself, stumbling left and right. "Good luck. He hasn't talked to me in four days," you tell her angrily, fetching the bottle of Malibu from your cupboard.

Before you're able to take a drink, Gwen snatches it from your hands. You protest, reaching for it when she holds it above her head. "Why hasn't he talked to you?" She asks you with furrowed brows.

"B-Because I wouldn't tell him that I'm in love with him," you say to her, continuously reaching for the bottle.

Gwen slaps your hands away and rushes to throw the bottle away. "Why didn't you tell him? Clearly, he feels something for you if he thinks you're in love with someone else," your friend sighs, looking toward you.

You pout, feeling the sadness starting to seep through. You scrunch your nose, ignoring her question before walking into your bedroom. 

She watches you slam your door before she releases a sigh. Gwen pulls her phone out and dials Peter's number, pressing the device against her ear.

It rings four times before he picks up. "Hello?" His voice comes through the receiver.

"Hey, Peter. Are you busy?" She asks him, tucking her free hand into her pocket.

"Uh, not at the moment, but I'm almost done. Why?" He questions her, hearing the wind blowing on his side.

Gwen sighs and walks over to your bedroom door, listening carefully. "Y/N's drunk and I need to get home to my dad. I was wondering if you could stop by when you're done and check in on her. She's a bit of a mess," she informs him.

"She's drunk? She rarely ever gets drunk," he mumbles quietly.

"Yeah, well, apparently she's pretty upset that you haven't been talking to her," she explains before opening your door just a smidge. The sound of your shower running hits your ears before she closes the door again. "So, fix it."

Gwen hangs up, not giving him a chance to explain or defend himself. She calls out to you, letting you know that she's leaving before you hear your front door open and then close.

You sit on the floor in your shower, your fingers tapping against your arms as you stare off in the distance. The warm water trails down your skin as you take a deep breath.

You push yourself up from the floor, being careful that you don't slip, and turn the water off. You grab your robe from the hook, quickly putting it on before walking out of your bathroom.

After tying the robe, you walk out into the living room and grab the glass of water. You decide to take the pills so you don't have a pounding headache in the morning. You bring the water into your bedroom, setting it on your nightstand.

A couple of knocks echo off your window, causing you to lift your head. "Peter?" You call out to him while climbing out of bed.

You open your window and he climbs into your room. You check him for wounds, knowing it's the main reason for him coming to your place after patrol.

"I'm okay," he reassures you. "Gwen called me."

"She did?" You ask him as he rests his hands on your arms.

He gently moves your body so you're sitting down on your bed. "She did, yeah. She had to go home and asked me to check on you," Peter says while sitting beside you.

"I'm surprised you agreed to it," you whisper, keeping your gaze on your hands.

Peter's chest clenches and he releases a sigh. "I'm sorry I haven't texted or called. It wasn't nice of me to ignore you," he explains while reaching for your hand.

You let him grab a hold of your hand as you glance towards him. "Why did you?" You ask him, feeling his fingers glide along the back of your hand.

"I was upset," he shrugs his shoulders. Peter stays quiet for a few moments before looking back at you. "Finding out that the girl you're in love with is in love with someone is hard to hear."

Your breath hitches in your throat at his confession. "You're in love with me?" You ask him, your heart starting to pound against your chest.

"Yeah, I have been for years," Peter sighs, squeezing your hand gently.

You bring your free hand to his face, stroking his cheek with your thumb. "I've been in love with you since I was fifteen," you whisper, his honey-brown eyes looking into yours.

He leans in and presses his lips to yours, causing both of you to lean back a bit. Your fingers comb through his hair as you kiss him back. Peter's hands move to your waist before they slide across your lower back.

"God, we should've done this sooner," he mumbles against your lips, placing tiny kisses on them.

"If only we could read the signs," you giggle.

You and Peter lay back on the bed, both of your arms wrapped around one another. He nuzzles his face into your neck as his hands slip under the robe you're wearing.

"I love you," Peter mutters against your skin.

-

You kick the door to your apartment open and grab the grocery bags. You huff while carrying the semi-heavy bags into your place, setting them onto the table. "Jesus, I had to buy a lot of stuff, huh," you mumble to yourself.

"Why didn't you call me for help?" Peter's voice calls out to you.

A scream leaves your lips, whipping your head around to see the brunette standing in your doorway. "Peter!" You scold with wide eyes, looking around your apartment. "How the fuck did you get in here?"

"The window," he jabs his thumb in the direction of your window.

"My window," you repeat to yourself with a laugh. You shake your head as Peter walks toward you.

His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into his body. The two of you sway back and forth as he hugs you from behind. "I missed you," Peter mumbles and pulls away.

"You saw me two days ago," you chuckle and walk towards your table to unpack your groceries. "Oh, and, do you ever plan to use the front door?"

"Oh, absolutely not," Peter laughs at your question.

He watches you walk past him, bottles of different condiments in your hands. "I'm not always going to be by my window, bugboy," you mention to him with a teasing grin.

"The window is just so convenient," he smirks.

You roll your eyes playfully while shoving the condiments you bought into your cupboard. "I don't know how that statement is true, but okay," you laugh, putting away the rest of your groceries.

Peter leans against the table and holds his hands out to you. "I just like coming through your window. Do you want me to use the front door?" He asks you with an eyebrow raised.

You step into his embrace, resting your hands on his shoulders. "No, you don't have to. It's just less energy you have to endure. I don't have a fire escape you can land on," you shrug your shoulders while grazing your fingertips along the back of his neck.

"Oh please, honey," Peter clicks his tongue in response. "I'm Spider-Man. I've got a lot of endurance."

Your cheeks blush at the slight innuendo. Peter's hand slides down the middle of your back and rests on your right ass cheek. "Do you, now?" You ask and bite your lip.

"Mhm, maybe you can find out," he whispers, his eyes glancing down at your lips.

"Yeah, maybe you should show me."

-

Taglist: @reidslovely @jeanettexkillian @undf-stuff @softyutae @theonlymaddie @queenofshinigamis @stewielover95 @foreverrogers @writing-for-marvel @softtdaisy @xoxoloverb @onlyfreds​ @avenjames-anderson​ @librariesofdreams​ @0-0-sunflower-0-0​ @sincericida​ @leleea @jessalyn-jpeg​ @paw-sneeze​ @reddesert-healourblues​ @thewxntersoldier​

[slytherheign]

FEARLESS | tasm!peter parker

PAIRING: high school senior!tasm!peter parker x high school senior!fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 4.5k

SUMMARY: loving peter in secret for far too long becomes exhausting for you when you think he will never love you back. in order to distract yourself from your growing feelings, you start to follow a friend’s suggestion—not knowing that it will only cause you harm.

WARNINGS: cursing/swearing, manipulation, fire, unhealthy obsession/toxic ex, and canon-typical violence. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: 16+]

AUTHOR’S NOTE: inspired by taylor swift’s song with the same title + i mixed it with a plot from this request sent by @willowhaired (thanks for requesting! hope it’s okay that i didn’t follow some things in your request. i changed some parts in order to match with taylor’s song). btw, this is angst with happy ending. enjoy reading!

DESTINATION: Sweet Street | GO BACK TO THE STATION. CLICK HERE FOR ALL THINGS FEARLESS (reviews, commentary, etc. about this fic).

“Class dismissed!” you heard your teacher announce. The rain that was pouring down outside was heavy and your eyes widened when you realized that you forgot to bring an umbrella. Your seatmate, Peter Parker, who just happened to be your neighbor and your biggest crush, turned to look at you. He seemed to notice the slight panic in your eyes. “Come with me,” he offered.

“Really?” you asked.

“Well, I have an umbrella and a car. You don’t…” he paused. “Unless you want to walk in the rain by yourself. It’s your choice,” he teased. 

“Oh no–please,” you laughed. “I’ll go with you.”

“Come on then,” he said, putting your notebooks in your bag and then picking it up before he stood up. There he was again, being the gentleman that he was, doing the exact same things that made you fall in love with him. 

You and Peter weren’t best friends, but you two were close. Being neighbors since you were children played a huge part in that. You would never tell him, but he was actually your first crush. The first boy who made your heart jump since then and until now. When you were 6 years old, you told him you loved him while you two were playing, you were too young to know the deep meaning of the word “love” back then. In response, he told you that he loved you too because you were like a little sister he never had.

You remembered that response as you grew up, always reminding yourself that he would never love you back in the same way you loved him. And because you were too scared to risk and lose the relationship you two had, you were fine with being his little sister as long as it meant getting to be close to him.

It hurt you. Being close to him but never close enough to touch him in the ways you wanted to. You have seen him get in and out of relationships, let him cry on your shoulders when someone broke his heart. You have always been there through ups and downs, offering advice to him for his relationships to work. Little did he know, your heart shattered each and every time.

You had a couple of ex-boyfriends, both of them breaking up with you before the relationship could even last a year. One of those men was Harry Osborn, who just happened to be Peter’s best friend. You were sad, of course, but it was probably better because you knew that you couldn’t give your all to those relationships. You tried to find Peter in those men you dated, and it was probably why those relationships didn’t work out. 

Peter opened the umbrella in one hand while his other carried your bag; his bag was on his back. He made a gesture for you to come closer and you did. The rain was harsh but you paid it no mind, there was a glow off the pavement as he walked you to the car. He opened the door for you when he reached the car, and you went in immediately.

The close distance between the two of you and the confined space of the car made the smell of him strongly enter your senses. The sensation of his presence made the hair on your skin stand up unsolicitedly. As you drove down the road, you wondered if he knew just how you were trying so hard not to get caught up with your feelings and just kiss him. He was just so cool, he didn’t even realize how he absentmindedly made you want him when he ran his hands through his hair. God, how could a man be this beautiful?

It could get better than this, you knew that. It could get better than you longing for him behind the curtains. But you were terrified. You were deeply in love with him, but you could never imagine him loving you back. 

After that rainy day, Peter offered to drive you home from school daily. You were hesitant, scared that the more time you’d spend with him, the more you’d hurt your heart. But before you could say no, your mouth muttered the opposite of what you wanted to say. You agreed.

You wished for more than the road trips, but for now, you would settle for the slow drives from the school to your home, capturing and remembering every moment you were in his passenger seat.

You knew you could always tell him what you truly felt, but it was always a matter of fear.

If there was one thing Peter knew about his enemies, it was that they always come for the ones he loved the most. That was why he didn’t tell anyone yet that he was in love with you. The only person who knew except himself was his best friend, Harry. He liked to believe that no secrets existed between the two of them. They were inseparable since the first year of high school when they first met each other. Right now, they were seniors and everything remained the same.

He could not be any more wrong. See, Harry was madly in love with you. When you dated him, he felt like the happiest man in the world but he always noticed that you loved another man. And when he saw the way you looked at Peter, he knew. He made plans in secret to hurt the two of you. If he couldn’t have you, then Peter couldn’t have you either.

For a while, he was skeptical of his plan. He didn’t want to do it anymore. He loved you and Peter was his best friend, he didn’t want to continue his plan any longer. Besides, the only thing he knew was that you were in love with Peter, his best friend probably didn’t feel the same towards you…

But then Peter decided to tell him that he was in love with you, and… well, that made him angry. 

He decided his plan would continue.

You remained friends with Harry even after breaking up with him. The breakup was mutual and there were no hard feelings. Just yesterday, he made a joke that you have been single for a long time and that you should download a dating app. You disagreed immediately, telling him that you were never a fan of dating apps. But then he said something that changed your mind.

“You should at least try. Surely, you can’t wait for that person forever?” 

He definitely knew you were in love with his best friend. And with the tone in his voice when he said that suggestion, it made you think that Peter didn’t feel the same. If there was someone who would know if Peter was in love with someone, it would be Harry. You knew they never kept secrets from each other. 

So you did what he suggested. You downloaded a dating app, and in an instant, you were already matched with someone named Nick. You talked to him for months, pretending to be interested in every conversation he tried to start. Nick was nice, you shared a few hobbies and interests but he wasn’t Peter. It was hard to find someone when the only one your heart wanted was Peter. 

And then Nick asked to meet up with you. You didn’t want to. You told Harry about it and he said to give it a go. “If you never try, you never know, right? Just wear your best dress and imagine it was Peter,” he advised. You smiled in return, before texting Nick to accept his offer.

A week prior to your meetup, you found yourself constantly texting Nick, just talking about each other’s lives casually.

Can’t wait to see you next week 😉

You chuckled a little bit as you entered Peter’s car. Another school day has ended. Peter entered the car next. You put your phone in your lap as you adjusted your seatbelt.

Just wear your best dress, and I’ll take care of the rest ❤️

Unbeknownst to you, Peter got a glimpse of your text messages. He felt his mood change in an instant, but he tried not to show it to you. However, it was very obvious because he did not talk to you for the whole ride home. He would glance at you every once and a while but you were too busy exchanging messages with Nick on your phone to notice. 

“We’re here,” he said with no enthusiasm in his voice. He got out of the car before making his way to your side and opening the door for you. You quickly shut your phone off and got out of the car. “Thank you,” you smiled at him but he just nodded. He didn’t even look into your eyes. Maybe he was just having a bad day, you thought.

You knew something was off when he didn’t walk you up to your door. “Pete, is everything okay?” you asked.

“Huh? uh–yeah. Just having a bad day. Don’t wanna talk about it,” he answered simply.

“Oh okay…” you proceeded to go into your house. Something inside you wanted to go back to him but you stopped yourself before you could even run to where he was standing and hug him right there. He didn’t want to talk about it, he probably wanted to be alone at the moment.

“Thank you!” you yelled, smiling as you waved him goodbye from the door of your house. Peter met your eyes for the first time that day, he smiled a little before waving in return. He left as soon as you closed the door.

“How’s your day?” your mom asked you the moment you closed the door. “All fine,” you smiled, walking towards her before hugging her. “That was Peter again, right? What’s going on between you two?” she teased. You didn’t answer, and instead ran up the stairs and went straight to your room. Your mother laughed at your reaction.

You locked your room and changed into a more comfortable outfit. You repeated your mother’s question in your head as you sat on your bed. What really was going on between you and Peter? To be honest, you didn’t know. You still loved him. Your heart still called his name. Nick was just a distraction—a distraction you hoped would be enough to stop your growing feelings towards Peter.

Suddenly, a notification popped on your phone. A new message from Nick and Harry. You first opened Nick’s message, it was just the location for your meetup next week. The next one you opened was Harry’s.

Did Nick send you an address yet for next week? Can you update me?

You quickly typed a reply.

What a coincidence. He actually just sent me the address but it’s unfamiliar to me. Why do you want to know?

You saw the three dots on your phone that told you he was typing. It stopped for a long while, it was almost like he was contemplating what he was going to send. The dots showed up again after some time until he sent a message.

I think I know where that address is. Should I take you there?

He didn’t answer your question. Nonetheless, you were glad for his offer.

Really, you would do that? Thank you! ❤️

A WEEK LATER.

Peter was doing what he always did, sitting on a rooftop ledge as Spider-Man, looking at the city as he waited for someone who needed his help. Everything was peaceful for a while, it was just him, the wind, and the buzzing noises from cars and people. His eyes caught something familiar. A car heading into a part of New York where not many people went. It didn’t take him a long time to realize that it was Harry’s car. He swung quietly through buildings, settling on one where he could see the car more properly. 

There you were, sitting in the passenger seat of a car heading into an almost abandoned part of the town. His senses immediately alerted him of danger. He watched as the car stopped in front of an abandoned house. He saw Harry guiding you into the house and he sneakily entered it from one of the windows. He settled behind a table, a place where he could observe you without you noticing.

You were wearing a black dress that highlighted the shape of your body. You already were beautiful for him, but seeing you in that dress made him aware that you were the most beautiful girl in the world. He could spend his day just staring lovingly at you if it wasn’t for the current situation. 

He saw the confusion on your face as you looked around the empty building. It was then the moment Peter realized that today was the day you were meeting up with Nick. The only problem was Nick wasn’t here and it was just an empty building, and he could tell by the look of your face that you were close to panicking. 

Just as Peter started to stand up and walk towards you, Harry entered the building with a wide smirk plastered on his face. Peter quickly returned to his hiding position.

You pulled out your phone from your purse and called the number Nick gave you. At the exact same time, you heard someone’s phone ringing in the building. You turned to where the sound was. It came from Harry, he was laughing. And then he showed you a phone in his hand with your name on it as the caller. You ended the phone call, and the ringing on Harry’s phone also stopped.

“Harry, what’s going on?” you started to take a few steps back. “Where’s Nick?”

“There’s no Nick,” he admitted, a sly smile showing on his face. “I made it all up.”

“But–why?” you were starting to tear up. This place was not familiar to you. The more you looked around, the more you realized that escaping was not an option. There was one open window but it was far from your position. There was also a huge fallen table blocking it.

Peter stood up from his position and silently moved closer to where you were. He took advantage of the shadows and his spider-like abilities to move without having any of you notice it. Suddenly, he felt his foot touch a liquid substance. It was gasoline, it came from a hose that was close to his hiding spot. His eyes tried to trace where the hose came from but his spot gave him a limited view. He knew it was from outside the house but he didn’t know exactly where.   

In just seconds, the house smelled like gasoline, and the floor was flooded with it. Apparently, the hose that Peter discovered wasn’t the only one. There were a lot scattered around the house and they released the liquid substance at the same time.

“Do you smell that?” Harry snickered. “I know you do. It’s pretty cool, isn’t it? I planned this all by myself. I even installed the hoses.”

“Harry, what the fuck are you doing?” you questioned.

“Taking back what’s mine,” he replied. “I love you, Y/N. I never stopped.”

He stepped closer. “Take me back. Be with me again,” he demanded.

“You’re fucking insane. Get away from me.”

“And if I don’t want to?” he mockingly asked.

“Harry–stop. Please. We’re still friends, right? W-we can still be f-friends,” you shakingly tried to reason out. He only shook his head. 

“Say you love me and you can still leave this house breathing,” he warned.

“Harry–”

“Say it.”

You shook your head, frustrated tears were coming out of your eyes.

“Say. It.”

“No–” you whispered.

“No?” he asked.

“No,” you answered sternly. You would rather die than spend your life stuck with him.

“Then you leave me with no choice but to–” he pulled out a lighter from his jacket. Your eyes widened. 

Someone from the shadows shot out a web to Harry’s hand, preventing him to move his hand and light the object he held. Spider-Man soon stepped out of the shadows. “Get out, Y/N,” you heard Spider-Man demand you and you instantly ran straight to the door. You didn’t even dare to question how he knew your name.

The door was locked as expected. While Spider-Man and Harry fought, you tried to look around for something that would help you destroy the handle. Your eyes caught a crowbar covered in gasoline laying on the floor close to a wall. You made your way to it cautiously, careful not to let yourself get caught up with Harry and Spider-Man. For a moment, you saw the lighter escape Harry’s hand as Spider-Man punched his face but your focus was on the crowbar so you just let them deal with themselves.

You did your best to hit the door forcefully with the tool when you returned, but it was hard to break since the crowbar was covered in gasoline which made it slip from your hand almost every time. All of a sudden, Harry was able to retrieve the lighter and flicked it. As soon as the fire showed itself, he threw it on the floor.

The next thing you knew, the house was on fire and smoke filled the air. It was getting hard to breathe, even Harry was coughing weakly. You tried to shift your attention to the door again. This time, trying even harder to open it. You kicked, threw your body weight on it, and hit it with the crowbar again, but it only managed to do little to the door. 

When the smoke increasingly spread in the house, Spider-Man felt that his mask was suffocating him. To be able to breathe more properly, Peter decided to remove the mask from his face. He wasn’t worried about showing his face, Harry was already passed out, and you were busy breaking down the door. Besides, he was already planning on telling you he was Spider-Man some of these days, he might as well do it now.

After a more few tries, you eventually managed to break the door handle and kick the door open. You were about to call Spider-Man to alert him but the words got stuck in your throat upon seeing his face.

Peter looked up as he felt you staring at him. “Get out of here, Y/N!” he yelled.

It seemed that your feet were stuck on the floor and your mind stopped making rational decisions because you stayed there in shock. “Peter?” you spoke.

“Y/N, GET OUT! LEAVE!” he yelled again. His voice made you jump and you instantly followed his demand. You left the house still thinking of him. You were already starting to walk to your house when your heart ached out of being worried for Peter. “Fuck it,” you whispered under your breath. You turned back, making your way back to the burning house. You called the authorities on the way.

Peter was still inside when you returned. You squinted your eyes, hoping to see more of him through the fire. He was carrying Harry, trying to get him out of the house but he was struggling because of the fire that surrounded him. 

This was the part where the brain fought with the heart. Your mind was pleading for you to go home, save yourself, and get a good night’s sleep. But your heart insisted on staying, helping Peter, and putting yourself in danger.

Your heart only needed to softly whisper Peter’s name, and you were already all in.  

And so, you entered the house fearlessly.

You used your arms to cover your head from the falling debris as you made your way to Peter. His eyes did a double take as soon as he saw you. “What the fuck are you doing here? Didn’t I tell you to leave?!” he questioned, worry and stress showing through his voice.

You ignored his questions and instead insisted on helping him carry Harry out of the house. You were both silent even after the job was done. For a while, it was just you, Peter, a passed-out Harry, the house that was on fire, and the sky that decided to rain.

After a few minutes, you heard the sirens that alerted you that the authorities were arriving at the scene. Peter looked at you as if to ask if you called them, and you nodded in response. He put on his mask again.

You watched as the firemen dealt with the burning house. Peter, now back to being Spider-Man, talked with the authorities about Harry and what happened. Harry was still passed out and being carried to an ambulance that would direct him to the hospital to get treated before he would face the consequences of his actions. As for you, you sat in the ambulance getting checked by the medics. You didn’t have any major injuries, just minor ones. When they offered to get you to the hospital just to be sure, you politely declined them and insisted on staying with Spider-Man.

It was as if the universe decided to help with the burning house because the rain decided to turn into a storm. You found a bench close to the house for you to sit on. The storm was getting harsher, but you refused to leave the place without Peter. You just crossed your arms to cope with the growing cold the wind delivered.

After waiting for a few more moments, the house wasn’t on fire anymore and the authorities left the scene for the day. As soon as they left, Peter removed the mask and walked towards the bench you were silently sitting on. “I would offer you a coat, but I don’t have one,” he stopped in front of you. 

You looked up at him, standing up so you could look at him properly. “You okay?” you asked, noticing a few bruises on his face. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Are you?” he asked softly.

“I’m fine… still kind of shocked though. Didn’t expect my day to turn out like this,” you told him.

“Why were you using a dating app in the first place?” he asked jokingly.

You knew he was only teasing, but his question struck a nerve in you. To forget you, you wanted to say. Sorry for the mess, I only wanted to fucking forget you. Sorry for trying to move on. Sorry because I fucking love you.        

Instead, you answered with another question. “Why didn’t you fucking tell me you’re Spider-Man?” your voice raised unintentionally.

His eyebrows furrowed with the tone of your voice. He tried to get closer to you but you stepped back, rolling your eyes. “Why is your ex fucking insane?!” he matched your attitude.

You scoffed. “Why is your best friend fucking insane?!”

“I–stop. Y/N,” he said softly. He realized from the way you were shaking that you were probably stressed and traumatized because of what happened. His suspicions were confirmed when you suddenly broke down crying. He instantly covered your fragile body with his frame. He hugged you tightly, letting you sob all the stress and frustration away. It was still storming, but none of you cared. 

“Shhh,” Peter cooed. When your crying stopped, he held your face with his hands. “Why did you go back?” he asked, looking into your eyes.

“Because I wanted to help you,” you answered.

“And? I know that’s not the only reason you did it.”

You debated on whether to tell him the truth or lie your way out of the conversation. But after the stunt you pulled earlier, you knew Peter wasn’t stupid and would realize the truth sooner.

“Because I care for you. In ways I cannot describe,” you answered truthfully.

“Why do you care for me?” he asked.

“Peter…”

“I need you to say it,” he whispered close to your face. Your nose was close to touching his.

“I won’t because I know you don’t feel the same,” you closed your eyes.

“Open your eyes.”

You opened your eyes.

“Look at me.”

You did what he said.

“Say it.”

It was time to tell him, without fear.

“I love you.”

Peter smiled, before pulling your face closer to him and kissing you hard. Your eyes widened, not expecting him to kiss you. All along, you thought your love was one-sided, but the kiss you were sharing right now proved otherwise. It was your first kiss with him and it was flawless. You closed your eyes and deepened the kiss, you only pulled away when you needed to catch your breath.

“How are you feeling right now?” he smirked. “Did I kiss all your worries away?” he teased.

“I don’t think there’s a word that could do justice to what I’m feeling right now,” you chuckled. “I’m so happy–I feel like my heart is dancing. I could dance right now.”

“Really?” he asked, a clever smile showing up on his face. Suddenly, he offered a hand in front of you. “May I ask you for a dance?”

You accepted his offer. The only music was the storm as it loudly poured on the pavement, but none of you minded it. You swayed with him, giggling as you stared fondly at each other. 

You were wearing your best dress, dancing with Peter in a harsh cruel storm, taking each other’s hands as you both drag yourselves head first into your lives and hearts. To be honest, you didn’t how it would get better than this.  

“Can I tell you something, Y/N?” he asked, gracefully turning you.

“Of course,” you smiled.

“My heart races for you so fast that I just need to let this out–I love you. I love you so much. I want to spend every day with you. When you’re sad, I want to be the one you run to. When you’re happy, I want to be the reason why. When you’re sick, I want to be the one who takes care of you. When you’re in trouble, I want to be the one who saves you.”

You stroked his cheek lovingly. “I love you too, Peter. I’ve admired you ever since we were children and up until now. When I think of my future and who I want to spend it with–it’s you. It’s always been you. I’m afraid of rejection, that was why I didn’t tell you the moment I knew I have feelings for you. I was always scared that you would turn me down. That’s why all these years I chose to love you behind your back. But now… now that all’s been said and done, I’m not afraid anymore. If what you’re asking me is to enter your life as your partner, then I’ll do it fearlessly.”

He turned you one last time, before putting a hand on your back and on the back of your thigh, gently bending you backwards so he could kiss you deeply once again. Each time he pulled you in his arms, you got a little more brave. As it turned out, all it took for your heart to not be fearful was Peter.

Love really was fearless.

SLYTHERHEIGN TAGLIST: @writingstoraes @joshiiieeenesx

TASM!PETER PARKER TAGLIST: @mymilkducts @i-am-woman-strong @lauraneedstochill @jeanettexkillian @ms-mandalore @enaraism @alessandralol @sad-darksoul @sincericida @mentallystablepotato @mich0731 @logolepsic-insomniac @k0miiki @dreamsarecloserwithyou @jumilzzz @primroseparker @preciousbabypeter @myheartonthemove @rebecca-johnson-28 @silkholland @ellievickstar @okkulta @geekygamerchick @starqwerty20 ​ @the-quiet-observer @softiepeterpan @willowhaired @sflame15-blog @pompeygirl89 @remuslupinsdocs

[evsstolenhearts]

Summary: you left your chest binder on for way to long, and Peter has you change

College!TASM!Peter Parker x ftm!college!reader | 894 words | no y/n

Warning: over wearing of a binder

A/N: 1st off, I was in different mode than usual so reader is written slightly different than I usually write. 2nd, so short, very very fluffy, very very domestic. 3rd, I did not have energy to make a header, and might stop doing those, idk yet

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆

Peter has been looking all over the campus for you. Earlier you has met up for a late lunch, but that was nearing nine hours ago. So, since Peter is finally leaving the lab to go home to the apartment you share, he is hoping to find you and have a peaceful night before he patrols, even if it's technically ten at night.

After checking the usual spots for you, he finds him self at one of the libraries. And there you happen to be.

Hunched over your computers, books, and papers. Posture as horrible as ever, headphones smooshing your hair, and completely dead to the world.

Walking up to you, Peter softly taps his hand on the desk to get your attention. Looking up at Peter from were you sit, your eyes seem to dilate, but he's probably just hallucinating it.

"Hey, pretty boy. You ready to go home?" Peter asks with a lopsided smile as you take off your headphones.

"Oh- yes, yes. Let me just get my stuff, and I already checked out this book," you get up from your seat and begin to put everything in your bag, "so I think I have everything."

"That's good," Peter grabs your bag before you can put it on and then kisses you before you can argue.

"I'm hungry." You say softly as you break apart from the kiss.

Peter laughs softly, both of you walking out of the campus library, "do we have anything at home?"

You take a second to think back. You guys got lunch from the cafeteria this afternoon, and it's long sense closed by now, and you honestly don't remeber the last time either of you went grocery shopping. "I don't think we do, no."

"Wanna pick something up on the way back? I think that Hawaiin place is still open."

"Ooo, yeah! That sounds really good."

And so you do, by the time you make it back to the apartment, you are holding bags of food and Peter has your book bags.

The coming home routine seems natural. Peter dumps the book bags in the bedroom, you bring the food to the coffee table, and you both find yourselves back in the kitchen to get drinks.

"Pleasure seeing you here, sir," Peter smiles as he leans on the kitchen counter as you get your drunk, "you come here often?"

A smile overtakes your features, "I do try to make a habit of it." You look back at him as you finish getting your drink and begin to walk to the living room couch.

"Thank goodness for that, because I definitely need to see more of you around." Peter over dramatically winks as he comes to join you.

You each get straight to eating. Chatting over the show that plays, over classes, and anything else that comes to mind. With in an hour, you are both finished with dinner and cuddling on the couch.

Peter is laid flat, which your body completely on top of his, head resting on his shoulder as you half watch the show, and have doze off to the sound of Peter's breathing.

Peter's hands slowly make their way under your shirt, rubbing comfortably over your skin, until he pauses at a feeling of something under your shirt.

"Baby?" His voice is soft as to not startle you out of your peaceful state.

You hum in acknowledgment, for him to continue what he wishes to say.

"How long have you had your binder on?" His voice is laced with concern as his hands lay over the peice of clothing.

You stay quite for a moment before shrugging, "I don't know, a while."

"That's not good, baby." It's obvious he's not mad, just concerned, as usual.

"It's just one time." Your voice is muffled from being half smooshed on Peter's chest.

"But one time with become two, then three, then five, and that's not good." He begins to sit up, taking you with him.

"Noooo, stop." You groan as he moves you like a ragdoll to sit up on his lap, "I was comfy."

"You'll be even more comfortable with your binder off."

"Too much work." You murmur as you glare at him, but it holds to real malicious.

"Come on." Peter stand up from the couch, holding you in his arms like a sad bag of potatoes as he walks to the bedroom, "let's get you a hoodie to make you feel better."

Once in the bedroom, Peter softly plops you down onto the bed before walking to the closet.

"Which one do you want?" He sits through his hoodies as you sit criss cross on the bed.

"Can I have the blue one?" Peter grabs the blue one and hands it to you, kissing your head.

"Do you want me to leave the room?"

You take a split second to think, deciding how much you care if Peter sees you, but today has already been off and changing alone would feel much better than infront of him. "Yes please."

Peter kisses your head one more time before leaving, going back to the living room.

You change out of your binder and t-shirt, into the comfy hoodie that belongs to Peter.

When you leave the bedroom, Peter is already laying down on the couch, waiting for you so you both can resume your night.

[katsu28]

study or sleep

pairing: tasm!Peter Parker x reader

summary: Peter finds Y/N studying in the middle of the night 

warnings: none really just cute fluffy Peter Parker content 

a/n: a really short one shot that i came up with during my finals week 

i’m also officially done with school for a few months so i’m trying to get back into the swing of writing as much as i can!

masterlist + taglist

(gif found on google, creds to owner)

Peter woke to an empty bed, reaching for you sleepily only to find that the sheets were cold, blankets cast aside, and you nowhere to be found. Glancing bleary eyed at the clock on the bedside table, he saw that it was 4:20AM, so why weren’t you asleep? 

He crawled out of bed sleepily, grabbing a random shirt off the floor and making his way out to the living room, where he found you huddled in a blanket and hunched over your laptop, typing away furiously. A small smile made its way across Peter’s face at the sight of your concentrated pout as he leaned against the doorway and watched you work. 

God, you were so beautiful. 

Peter wasn’t sure how he was so lucky to be with someone as perfect and beautiful as you were. He was completely. 100%, without a doubt, in love with you. 

In his admiration of you, he hadn’t noticed that you’d become aware of him lurking in the hallway, and was now peering out at him with wide eyes. 

“Oh my god, did I wake you?” You gasped, covering your mouth with a hand. “I’m so sorry, Pete, I—” 

“No! No, no, you didn’t wake me. I had to go to the bathroom and saw you weren’t in bed.” He replied quickly, padding over to the sofa you were curled up on and sitting cross-legged next to you. “What are you doing up so late?” 

“Got a bunch of stuff due at the end of the week, I couldn’t sleep so I figured I’d try to get some work done,” You sighed, shoulders slumping. Peter could tell that even though you said you couldn’t sleep, you were exhausted. 

He’d noticed that you’d been working nonstop for the past few weeks, often staying glued to your laptop until you passed out at the kitchen counter, or the couch, or wherever you’d settled to get stuff done. This, along with going to your classes, your job at the campus gym, and your internship at Oscorp Industries, Peter worried that you might be spreading yourself too thin. 

“Sweetheart, when was the last time you got a good night’s sleep?” He murmured, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair that had fallen out of your messy bun behind your ear. “And by good sleep, I mean more than four hours.” He added before you could open your mouth to respond, causing you to let out a tired chuckle. 

“I don’t need sleep, I need answers,” You joked, drawing a roll of eyes from Peter. “But for real though, I don’t really remember.” 

“If you don’t remember, then it’s been too long.” chided Peter. He eased your laptop shut, ignoring your protests and climbing to his feet. “Come on, Y/N. Back to bed.” 

“Pete, I can’t—” You whined, but your whines quickly died off when Peter slid his arms under your knees and around your back, hefting you into his arms bridal style. Nestling your head against his chest, you sighed. “‘Mkay, fine, maybe just a few hours.” 

The reverberation of his laugh rumbled through his chest, ticking your cheek as he made his way back to the bedroom, easing you down on the bed and stifling another laugh when you refused to let go of him. “Stay.” 

“I was planning to, my love,” He murmured, trying and failing again to wiggle out of your grasp. Peter ended up doing a weird little half roll, half climb maneuver over you, tucking himself close to your body. 

“Love you, Pete.” You yawned sleepily, snuggling even closer into the warmth that he radiated and nuzzling your head under his chin. 

“Love you too, sweetheart. Goodnight.” He pressed a soft kiss to your hair, trailing his fingers up and down your spine soothingly as the two of you laid there together. 

If he was waiting for a response, he didn’t get one, because you were already fast asleep. 

“Couldn’t sleep, my ass.” 

Taglist!

@doublecrazyyymofo @milkiane @scenesofobx @raajali3 @conans-folk @eichenhouseproperty @dpaccione @laneybobeczko-g @nardaddyromanoff

if your username is crossed out it means tumblr won't let me tag you :(

[mrshipsmcgee]

Give me a headcanon (please) for A Lord and A Lady: Peter and Bluebell finding out she's pregnant for the first time.

OH SNAP ANON!

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy

He knew it before his Bluebell did.

Peter had noticed all of the signs; how tender her breasts were when he’d swirl his tongue along her nipples, how she absolutely could not stand the smell of frying meats or how she would wake up sick, thinking she had consumed far too much champagne the night before.

Lord Peter kept a watchful eye on his bride, making sure to be with her during practically every moment as he was fearful of what could potentially come after how he had lost Gwendolyn.

One day while Peter had gone to fetch her a bouquet of fresh flowers from their greenhouse gardens the Duchess fainted, a doctor arriving almost immediately to check her vital signs.

Peter ran home as soon as he had been alerted, busting through the doors of he and Bluebell’s bed chambers, out of breath as he rushes to her side - his love now bedridden as the doctor checks her heartbeat.

The doctor pauses, looking towards Peter before adjusting his instrument towards the Duchess’ abdomen, his eyes widening before he sits up.

“You are with child,” he breathes, looking at the couple. “The Duchess is expecting.”

He knew it.

Peter knew it.

Peter’s palm caressed his Bluebell’s belly, sweetly gazing down where she laid, “We’re going to have a baby.”

“I’m going to have your baby,” she smiles as a tear rolls down her cheek.

Peter’s smile drops as his thoughts race, still tormented by the loss of his Gwendolyn. He turns to the doctor, “She’s healthy?- They are healthy?”

The doctor nods, “All the Duchess needed was simply some sugar. Her and the babe are healthy.”

Peter swallows as he protectively covers his bride’s stomach before he lets out an exhale, “Thank you, doctor.”

The Duchess looks up towards Peter, smiling ear to ear as she says, “Your baby is in my belly, Pete. That is lunacy, is it not? Should we be allowed to be parents? We simply cannot be old enough to be with child.”

Peter smiles, his eyes full of admiration as he whispers - “I suppose our days of playing house will be put to good use soon.” He rubs her belly, planting a kiss on her cheek before whispering “Our baby is in here.”

[friendly-neighborhood-blondie]

I just love the idea of Y/N being a big fan of spiderman since He saved them from something and They keep pestering Peter about how cool Spiderman is and How nice his arms feel and how funny He is and Peter just wants to DIE from embarrassed BEGGING internally cause Petes have NO IDEA how to deal with compliments

Hahahaha I love this.

Peter absolutely would be a little shy at first about all the compliments to his masked counterpart’s physical appearance—especially coming from you—but I think he’d also be a little bit smug about it on occasion.

“Do you think Spider-Man can really throw a whole car or do you think that’s just a rumor?” You’d ask out of the blue one day, sitting on your couch getting ready for your weekly movie night.

Peter wouldn’t even look up from his pizza as he’d answer, “Oh yeah. He can deadlift at least 10 tons.” And then, after a beat, “So I’ve heard.”

You’d narrow your eyes. “10 tons feels like a ridiculous amount. That’s for sure made up.”

That would be when Peter would snap his head towards you. “It isn’t.”

You’d be caught in a stare off for a minute before you’d roll your eyes at him. “You seem to know a lot about Spider-Man for someone who is generally so uninterested in everything I have to say about him.”

“I’m not uninterested, you’re just always talking about his—”

“His arms, correct, because they are worth talking about, Pete! I had them wrapped around me for a whole 3 and a half minutes! That’s not something someone can forget about! And he’s just so funny—”

“Alright, alright, enough of that. Eat your pizza,” Peter would cut you off, gently shoving your plate towards your face to silence you. And though it would go unnoticed by you in the dim light of your living room, a deep blush would be creeping up his neck and onto his cheeks.