#the amazing spider man x reader

[loeyparker]

RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME    ;   MASTERPOST

PLAYLIST         |        AO3 (soon)

when Peter Parker falls into another world, you’re there to welcome him with suspicion and a drawn gun.  set before, during & after nwh; slow burn

⟶ CHAPTERS . ONGOING

I SWEAR YOU COULD HEAR A HAIR PIN DROP

RIGHT WHEN I FELT THE MOMENT STOP

GLASS SHATTERED ON THE WHITE CLOTH

EVERYBODY MOVED ON

I, I STAYED THERE

DUST COLLECTED ON MY PINNED-UP HAIR

THEY EXPECTED ME TO FIND SOMEWHERE

SOME PERSPECTIVE, BUT I SAT AND STARED

RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME

⟶

credits for the story's cover goes to the amazing, the lovely @veraocruel

[bi-bard]

Jonathan Larson Songs That Describe a Relationship with Peter Parker - Peter Parker Imagine [The Amazing Spider-Man (2012)]

Title: Jonathan Larson Songs That Describe a Relationship with Peter Parker

Pairing: Peter Parker X Reader

Word Count: 2,930 words

Warning(s): Peter's commitment issues/past trauma, mention of potential break-up

Summary: Three songs by Jonathan Larson that would describe a relationship with Peter Parker [The Amazing Spider-Man (aka Andrew Garfield's Peter Parker)]

Author's Note: I am so fucking funny.

**Not intentionally written in chronological order**

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Johnny Can't Decide

Johnny has no guide Johnny wants to hide Can he make his mark, if he gives up his spark? Johnny can't decide

I had grown used to just finding Peter in my apartment.

At some point, I just started to expect it more than anything. Whether he used the key that I gave him or the window into my bedroom, it was normal for him to be there.

What wasn't normal was to find him looking through my computer.

"Peter," I said, furrowing my eyebrows. "What are you doing?"

"What's this," he asked, pointing at the screen.

I walked over but stopped when I could fully focus on the screen. My heart dropped as guilt washed over me.

"(Y/n)-"

"They're apartment listings," I answered.

"These aren't in New York," he pointed out. "You want to leave the city completely?"

"I... I've been looking at jobs," I shrugged. "I started looking at places to move if I get the offer."

"Why," he asked. "I thought you liked it here."

"I did," I replied. "For a long time. But these last few months... they've been pushing me to leave."

He turned in my chair fully. "When were you going to tell me?"

"I was hoping to tell you once I got an offer, but... I don't know if I would've."

"What?"

"I know that you wouldn't want to leave."

He scoffed. "You couldn't know that-"

"Peter, you love this city. You love being Spider-Man. I would never ask you to leave it. Spider-Man has been in your life a lot longer than I have."

"You didn't even ask me."

"So, you would leave? If I asked?"

Peter paused.

I saw the weight of the choice actually setting in.

He would be leaving the city that he loved. He would either have to give up being Spider-Man and face being accused of not caring about the city, start protecting a different city and still be faced with the same accusation, or find some way to kill Spider-Man without getting himself killed.

"I want to be with you, Peter. I love you," I said. "But I won't let this be some reason you resent me later. I won't do that."

"You're leaving," he asked. "No matter what?"

"I think so," I replied.

I never told him about the fear that sat in my stomach every night when he wasn't there.

Whether or not he was on the news for his actions, I knew that he was out there. He was dealing with threats that the city wasn't aware of most of the time. I would sit up and wait for him. When I'd hear the familiar thump on the fire escape outside or- on rare occasions- hear the door open, I'd lay down, slow my breathing, and pretend that I had fallen asleep hours ago.

Whether or not he ever believed my little act was a mystery.

And I wasn't just leaving because of that. It just made me less hesitant.

"I'll leave the choice to you," I explained. "You can think about it. Whatever you want is fine. But I am leaving. Your choice is just whether or not you're going with me."

He nodded. "Okay."

I walked forward and kissed his cheek. "I love you."

"I love you too," he muttered. "Do you... Do you want me to leave?"

"Up to you," I shrugged. "I won't be hurt if you don't want to stay here tonight."

"No, no, I want to," he said. "I want to be here."

"Okay," I smiled at him.

I know that he didn't fall asleep that night. Mostly because I didn't either.

I think we both pretended to in the hopes of comforting each other. As some silent sign that everything was okay. But it wasn't. We both knew that there was this impending end on the horizon. We knew that everything between us had shifted and was going to continue to shift.

Realistically, I couldn't imagine Peter choosing me over his work here. I knew that I was fighting a losing battle.

But I don't know if that made it easier or harder to cope with.

Another Day

The heart may freeze Or it can burn The pain will ease If I can learn There is no future There is no past I live this moment as my last

I never thought about how bad I could be at reading signals.

I hated making assumptions about people's feelings, but there were a few moments when I was certain that I was right.

Like now.

Peter and I had been friends for a while. We had grown close. I developed feelings for him far faster than I wanted to admit. It just felt so easy with him. He was funny and smart and sweet. He felt too perfect to exist, but I couldn't find the drive to search for some flaw in the image.

I should've. Maybe that would have helped me in the long run.

He had come over to my place after work one day. We had both been talking about this movie that we wanted to see and I had found it on DVD. It almost felt like fate pushing us into the same place.

I was coming back from grabbing the pizza that had been delivered to find that Peter had disappeared. I furrowed my eyebrows set the pizza down and looked around.

I found him standing in my small hallway, looking at the pictures that I had on my wall.

"Peter?" I said.

He looked over at me. "Sorry."

"Don't be," I shook my head as I walked over. "If I didn't want them to be looked at every once and a while, then I would've hidden them."

He chuckled. "They're nice... the pictures."

"Thanks," I grinned. "My mom sent me a whole bunch when I first moved out. Something about keeping me close to home in a way."

"She sounds nice."

She would have to be to listen to me talk about you as much as I do, I thought. "She is."

Peter just nodded.

"She actually had them already printed out," I chuckled. "Something about knowing that I wouldn't stick around."

"Always running?"

"No, no, just running here," I corrected. "I wanted to be in this city for as long as I can remember. I always had some semblance of what I wanted for my life. I just sometimes have trouble acting on what I want."

"I see," he replied, looking at me. "And what exactly is it that you want now?"

I paused for a moment. I had a thousand thoughts jumping around my mind, but all of them trailed back to him. It felt silly. Ridiculous.

But then, I looked back at him.

I couldn't explain it, but there was something. Something just behind his eyes that made me feel like my thousand thoughts weren't as ridiculous as I thought they were.

I slowly stepped closer to him. I hesitantly leaned closer to him, waiting for some sign to fill the gap or pull away and act like it never happened. I couldn't find either. I stopped, maintaining just a few inches between us.

"We shouldn't," Peter muttered. He didn't pull away. He just let the words hang in the small space between us.

"Why," I asked, also not moving. I had been craving this moment for too long for that.

He paused as if trying to make up some excuse that satisfied him as much as it did me. "Work."

"Work?" I chuckled a bit at the answer.

"People will talk," he explained. "And if we don't work out, it could get so much worse."

"I'm okay with that risk," I shrugged. He didn't respond. He didn't pull back or talk or anything. "Life is simply too short to spend all of our time worried about every single thing that could possibly go wrong."

I leaned forward, nose brushing his.

"I want this... with you. And if you want it too, then I see no reason for us to hide from it."

I saw something. In his eyes. There was something that he wanted to say. Something sitting on the very edge of his tongue that he couldn't force out. Something that would make the moment too scary or too real.

I just watched his eyes jump from my eyes to my lips.

"Peter," I muttered.

He hummed back.

I leaned in and closed the remaining distance. I wrapped my arms around him as he kissed me back.

It was a few moments. A matter of seconds before he pulled away again.

I furrowed my eyebrows are he stumbled back from me. "Peter?"

"I... I need to go. I need to leave. I'm sorry."

"What," I asked. "I thought... I thought that we were..."

"I'll see you at work tomorrow," he muttered.

"Can we please just talk about this, Peter-"

"No!" he snapped. "There's... There's nothing to talk about. I'm leaving."

"Peter, wait-"

"Bye."

The door slammed behind him as he walked out. I felt my heart drop when it did. I felt like I should have heard it based on how fast it fell.

I wanted to follow him but I just couldn't. I just had to stand there with this sudden realization that everything that I thought was wrong. Every feeling that I was convinced had been shared was wrong.

It was a scary thing to think about.

I took one huge risk and it backfired greatly.

And now, I had no way to fix what I had broken.

As far as I was concerned, I had just lost Peter forever.

Swimming

Out, don't think Out, out, let it out Keep the shoulder down, down Easy, not too hard Find the movement's origin

I hadn't always been used to seeing Peter sitting on my fire escape in his full Spider-Man gear.

In fact, the first night that it happened, I almost shit myself.

I hadn't known about Peter's true identity. It had been a matter of days since he had rejected me outside my door and run away. I didn't know why at the time. I was still hurt and just trying to accept it. I couldn't force him to change his mind or process his grief faster than he was.

I just had to accept that I had no control over the situation. The only thing that I had control over was whether or not I would wait for him.

I had decided not to. I knew how my mind worked. If I stayed in contact with him, then I would just be reminded of the hurt every day. I would never be able to move on.

So, I ignored him.

If he noticed or cared, then he did a very good job controlling himself. He never confronted me. I took that as a sign.

I had just gotten back from work, entirely exhausted both physically and emotionally. I threw some stuff onto the table before going to walk back to my room and get ready to shower.

I switched on my light and looked out the window, only to find something looking back at me.

It took me a moment to recognize it, but anyone who had been watching would know the Spider-Man mask when they saw it.

The figure picked up its hand and waved at me. Then, it motioned for me to open the window.

I slowly reached over and grabbed the letter opener that my dad had insisted I own. I had no proof that this was the real Spider-Man and not some psycho in a fake suit. I would've been convinced by the mere presence on my fire escape, but if it was someone from my building, they could probably find a way there.

To put it simply, there were too many risks.

I walked over to the window and paused when I got there.

The figure motioned for me to open the window.

I paused for a moment before leaning forward and letting out a puff of air so the window fogged up a bit. I did my best to write 'Why?' backward.

The figure seemed to laugh and shake its head at me. I thumped the window as a way to tell it off.

After holding its hands up for a moment, it looked around and moved to pull its mask off.

I was met with Peter's face. My eyes went wide as I scrambled to push the window open.

"Lead with that," I scolded him.

"Sorry," he replied. "Can I come in?"

I moved so he could climb inside. I pulled the window shut again and locked it. It was strange to turn around and see Spider-Man standing in the middle of my room. Weirder when it felt like it was just Peter's head on Spider-Man's body.

"I'm sorry," he repeated.

"Just don't sneak onto my fire escape-"

"It's not about the fire escape," he cut me off. "I meant about everything. Pushing you away and lying to you. You deserved answers and I was too much of a coward to actually offer those to you."

I took a moment to collect my thoughts. "This is your explanation for rejecting me... being Spider-Man?"

"Well, there's a bit more to it than that."

"How am I supposed to believe the initial information?"

Peter sighed before sticking out his arm. I jumped as something shot right by my head and stuck to the wall behind me.

I looked at it for a moment before reaching out to touch it. I cringed a bit at the texture and shoot my hand back. "Gross."

"It's not meant to be pleasant," he replied, dropping his arm.

"Okay... what's the rest of your reason?"

"Gwen," he explained. "We were together for a while. She knew about... this. She was trying to help and then... I couldn't save her. I tried. I did. But she fell and I didn't catch her in time and she... she died in my arms."

I felt sick to my stomach. I felt like I was forcing him to tell me all of this. It was wrong of me to demand information that he didn't seem ready to tell me. I was going to stop him, but he didn't let me get a word in.

"I pulled away from everything for a while," he continued. "I... I stopped pulling my punches. I just... It felt like I just went dark. For a long time. And then... I met you. It felt like I was returning to normal.

"When we kissed... I just... I thought of every single way that I could get you hurt."

I took a deep breath. "Then why come back here? Why tell me this?"

"You were avoiding me and I was scared and- and confused and... all I wanted was for us to be okay but I didn't know how to fix it. I- I only knew that it was my fault. And then, I was out tonight, working, and I couldn't think of anything but you. You and how I messed things up and how badly I needed to talk to you. I was just constantly reminded of you."

I didn't have a response. There wasn't one that would explain my thoughts or say something that I hadn't already said or feel like I wasn't being disrespectful about everything that he had just told me.

Peter stepped forward, slowly reaching out to cup the sides of my face. His thumb traced my cheek as his eyes jumped around my face.

"I... I want you. I want to be with you," he muttered. "I just knew that I couldn't admit that without being completely honest with you about everything."

I didn't feel physically able to respond until I felt his hands pulling away. I frantically reached up to hold them in place. I stepped even closer to him.

"Kiss me," I murmured. He didn't react for a moment. "I... I'm willing to deal with all of this... with anything that comes with this. I just need to know that-"

I was cut off by Peter leaning forward and pressing his lips to mine. I slowly kissed him back, my hands moving to his sides. I felt a smile creeping onto my lips as the kiss continued.

Peter pulled back first.

"I'm sorry," he said. "For everything."

"I forgive you," I mumbled. "I promise."

He slowly smiled back at me.

I leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek, hearing a heavy sigh escape him as his shoulders finally dropped and his muscles relaxed. I leaned back again, feeling his hands move down to my sides.

There was a small pause.

"Can I start with the dumb questions now," I asked quietly.

"Sure," he chuckled, nodding at me.

"The webs... where... where are they coming from?"

He tilted his head back for a moment as he laughed. "That's what you want to know?"

I nodded.

"You could ask any question that you want... and you ask that?"

"It's a very good question."

He nodded. "You're right."

"Are you gonna answer it?"

"In a minute..."

I furrowed my eyebrows at him. Another chuckle escaped him before he leaned forward and kissed me again. Once I realized why he was avoiding my question, my eyes fluttered shut.

And with each passing second, I could see myself accepting every ounce of danger that could possibly come after this moment.

All of it was worth it as long as I got to be with him.

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Author's Note: Not gonna lie, "Swimming" feels like it's the story that follows what was actually inspired by the song.

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Navigation Guide

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

[mrsbrookemunson]

Spider-Man | Andrew!Peter x Fem!Reader

Prompt: This is when Peter Parker gets his powers in the movie, except you're right there with him as his best friend.

Genre: Fluff with underlying angst

Warnings: Swearing, canon fighting, mentions of injuries (Reader gets hit in the face with a skateboard, and whacked in the stomach with a pole), Peter's low key kind of mean to the reader (but cares), arguments, Peter likes Gwen, implied chubby!reader, it is the subway, and aftermath scene from the movie. Definitely a few typos

Word Count: 3445

A/N: I actually wrote a whole bestfriend!reader x Peter Parker series and never posted it, so let me know if you want part two.

| Part One | Part Two |

It all happened when Peter Parker said he was going to try to find some Dr. Conners that knew his dad back in the day, plain and simple. And me being the bestest friend I am, I waited at a coffee shop—did all my homework, not to brag… it’s a process!—so that he didn’t have to go home—which happens to be next to mine—on the subway alone. Plain. And. Simple.

“There you are!” I exclaimed, happily. “You know when someone says they’re five minutes away, I’d like to believe they are indeed… five minutes away.” I stood up, stuffing my hands into the pockets of my coat, the chill air having not gone away in the city of New York for a while.

Peter gave me an apologetic smile. “Sorry! I just… have a lot on my mind, and I’m tired,” he explained, sounding distant.

I narrowed my eyes at him in question. He definitely seems off. “Ah, it’s okay, you know I can’t stay mad at you.” I widely smiled, slapping him on the arm which causes him to jolt. “So, how was it?” Did you find Dr. Conners?” 

He nodded, “I did.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, “And?” 

“And–what? We didn’t talk, I couldn’t get him alone.” 

I frowned. “Next time then…” I assured. “Anything else that happened that I should know about?” 

He shook his head. “Nothing of importance.” His lips twitched up for a second afterwards. “But… Gwen Stacy was there.” 

My heart hammered, “That girl you’re madly in love with?” 

He laughed my statement off, awkwardly. “I’m not in love with her,” he protested weakly. “Just interested is all.” 

I let out an absentminded hum.

At that moment the train came hustling in with an abrupt stop.

Saved by the subway.

“Shall we?” I tilted my head towards it.

“We shall,” he replied. 

If I knew that Peter would’ve fallen asleep on the train, I also wouldn’t have drifted off… but I did… honestly… kind of worth it.

His feet were elevated, resting against the wall beside my head in his lying down position. I, on the other hand, was sitting upright, my neck craned back in a very uncomfortable manner. I was surprised we both dozed with the group of drunks beside us causing a ruckus. The group, stupidly, danced and laughed, the smell of cigarettes and beer burned my nostrils. 

Suddenly I was woken up when Peter made a harsh movement up.

What I didn’t expect to see was him attached to the roof of the transport. “P–Peter?” I rubbed my eyes in the slight chance I was dreaming. 

Everyone stared at him in a tense silence, including me. 

Peter looked at his hands which stuck onto the metal, hesitantly letting go, sending him down to the ground. “Are you okay?” I asked, concerned, kneeling down beside him to help him up.

“Yeah,” he answered, unsure. “You did see that right?” 

I opened my mouth to answer, but get cut off by one of the girls present, “Disgusting, now I smell my beer.” 

I had to resist the strong urge to roll my eyes. Because that’s what’s important. 

Peter, being Peter, looked at her in alarm, and guilt. “Uh, sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.” He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I didn’t mean to…” His voice dragged when he tried to pull his hand away. 

“Peter?” I eyed him, weirded out at the turn of events that took place 

“I didn’t–I didn’t,” he stuttered, still struggling his hand away.

An older man walked up to Peter, a tough persona displayed. “Get your hand off her!” he commanded.

Peter looked at the man, fearfully. 

“I’m trying to get my—”

“Can’t you see he’s trying!” I shouted. 

The guy, now angry, pushed Peter away from the girl, his hand took her shirt along with him. A couple of the surrounding guys laughed, staring.

“Well, that’s one way of getting your hand off of her,” I joked, but Peter didn’t react. 

The man that pushed Peter gets more riled up from this action, “Are you kidding?” 

Peter held onto one of the hand bars that he was previously rammed into, looking away from the girl, respectfully. “I’m sorry.” He raised a hand back, her shirt still latched onto the palm of his hand.

“Are you freakin’ kidding me?!” the man shouted.

“Hey! It’s not his fault,” I argued in his defense. “Can’t you see he was trying to? Technically you were the one that pushed him, which led to the accidental taking off of this… lady’s shirt, so–technically–it’s your fault.” 

I noticed in the corner of my eye Peter trying to pull his hand away from the hand bar just as I heard, “Hey, get him, Rudy, I got the girl.” 

“What?!” I raised my hands up in defense. “Isn’t this whole thing about sticking up for women?” 

“Hey!” Ignoring my words the man threw a punch towards Peter who raised a swift leg, kicking the man past me and onto another bench. The man groaned in pain.

“Woah,” I let out, breathless as the man fell to the ground.

“Man, I’m sorry! Oh, man, are you all right?” Peter rambled, turning to look at him.

As if he knew, Peter pushes up kicking another guy that had just about lunged at him, the momentum of it ended with him on his back.

“Take him down! Come on,” a woman shouted.

“Woah hold on–ah!” 

I was about to step in when another guy charged towards Peter who kicked up at the guy, doing a kip up, effortlessly landing on his feet. All with still holding onto the hand rail. “Get him, man! Get him!” 

There was only one guy left standing, his head whipping to the skateboard on the ground, Peter ever-so-slightly shook his head, eyeing it upsettingly. “No, man, no. Not my board,” he pleaded.

I was just about to grab it when the guy got it first in a flash, winding it back.

“Please, dude, don’t—” Peter didn’t finish his sentence as it was about to hit him, but the impact never came. “Y/n—You!” 

Of course, during this part all I saw was pitch black darkness, Peter–thankfully–filled me in on what happened after I was ejected from existence… I can still feel the pain.

The guy with the skateboard still in hand, attempted to swing at Peter for a second time, but Peter manages to kick up once again, and swung around to straddle his own arms in a bent position. Much to Peter’s dismay, the pole broke from the ground, nearly hitting me…

Oh wait—

First he hit the guy who started it all right where the sun didn't shine. “Sorry. Sorry.” Then another guy in the jaw. “Oh.” He turns to look at all the guys lifeless on the ground. “I am so sorry.” And then—

“I’m alive–UGH!” I crouched down, holding my stomach.

Peter finally gained the ability to drop the pole, staring down at his hand in shock.

Coney Island, next stop, the conductor’s voice resonated through the poorly made speakers, repeating it. 

“A little help down here,” I squeaked.

Peter snapped his attention to me who was… in a lot of pain. “Oh my—” he cut himself off, rushing to me. “Oh my God, I am so sorry, are you okay? Does it hurt? Of course it hurts, you were hit with a skateboard. Can you remember things? What’s your name? What is my name?” He took my face into his hands, inspecting it carefully. “Why the Hell did you do that? You definitely have a concussion.”

“Peter! Everyone is staring.” I covered his hands which have yet to pull away from my cheeks that felt as though they were on fire. 

Peter opened his mouth, but no words came out, shutting it. “Do you think your aunt would be okay if you spent the night?” 

“As long as we use protection,” I teased.

Peter’s eyes widened in embarrassment.

“Oh–I didn’t mean–it’s just my aunt always says to… nevermind.”

It was a long ride to the Parker residence from there.

Peter practically sprinted off of the train when we arrived. “Peter!” I screamed due to the amount of distance he put between us. 

“Oh, right!” He ran back, not wasting anymore time. “Hop on my back!” 

I blinked a few times, “Wh-What?” 

“Hop on… my back.” He set his backpack on the ground. “I literally just ripped a metal pole out of the ground, I can carry you.” 

I hesitated. “You’ve never been able to carry me before,” I pointed out, sadly. “Not to mention I have a backpack that weighs at least 50 pounds.

“Don’t say it like that, please, you’re probably lighter than air, it’s my fault I’m so weak,” he begs. “Let’s just try.” 

“I hate trying.” 

“I know you do,” he dismissed, turning around, and kneeling.

“If this goes poorly…” I dragged.

Peter didn't respond, as I cautiously wrapped my legs to straddle his back. 

“Okay I–woah!” I gasped when he stood upright. “Okay, okay, okay, you’re holding me up, that’s…” 

“Just hold on tight.” 

I do as he said, wrapping my arms around his neck, and intertwining my legs around his torso. “Why? You aren’t going to—No!” I shrieked when he starts to sprint again. “Peter!” I tighten edmy grip around him, my face nestled into the crook of his neck. “How are you doing this right now?” I asked, hinting at the fact he’s running with me on his back, with my backpack on, while carrying his backpack, and skateboard, which apparently broke at the second hit at him. It broke off of him.

Can’t deny all of it was attractive, well… what I saw before I was knocked out.

“How did I do any of that stuff?” 

I opened my mouth to reply with something clever, but nothing formed. 

“See?” he laughed.

I noticed that his face was starting to break out into a cold sweat. “Peter? You’re sweating. I knew this would be too much for you—”

“No! I think it’s the shock, the reaction. You know…” He began to slow down. “I am not beginning to feel too well,” he admitted, starting to stumble a little.

“Okay, you need to let me go. “

“It’s not you, I swear!” 

“I’m not saying it is, we’re almost at your house Peter, we can walk from here.” 

Giving in, he let me go. And looking at him… he didn’t look too good. Well, he always looks good, but I mean like… he looks ill. “It wasn’t you…” he reassured, shaking his head, spastically. 

“Let’s just… get you home, okay?” 

I go to grab his hand, but he jerked away. What is happening right now?

We arrived at his house. I opened the door, and ushered Peter inside whilst closing the door behind us. “Uh, hey,” Peter greeted. “Hey, hey.” He walked off without me.

I scrambled to keep up with his long strides as he met up with Aunt May and Uncle Ben. 

“Sorry. I’m late–and–uh Y/n's here too.” He gestured toward me as I peak my head around the corner. “We got—” 

“We’ve been so worried.” Aunt May stood to block him with a stern expression. “Your aunt too, Y/n!” She pointed to me who sported a sheepish smile. 

My eyes looked down at my phone which I had yet to pull out tonight, cringing at the number of voicemails and messages. I sent her a quick one back that I was safe and would be staying the night at Peter’s. “Use protection,” I read my Aunt Yelena’s text in a hushed tone.

“I know. I’m sorry. Watch out!” 

I looked up in alarm to see Peter catch something about the size of a fingernail, if not smaller. My feet got the better of me as I made my way towards Peter’s raised hand that rested in front of May’s face to get a better look. My body pushed up just beside Peter’s… I don’t think he noticed.

The fly buzzed as a beat of silence went by, Peter not being able to look at anything besides the insect just in between the pads of his thumb and pointer finger. 

“That’s a fly, Peter,” Aunt May commented, her hands pressed against her chest, scared.

Peter, for sure out of it, let go, waving his hand in the air. “Yeah,” he responded, carelessly. 

It flew around his head, his eyes following it carefully. “Nice catch,” I whispered. He jumped, dramatically, looking at me as if I was a ghost before looking back at Aunt May.

He wiped his bottom lip, preparing as if to say something, “I’m so sorry I kept you guys up,” he paused. “I’m insensitive, I’m irresponsible, and I’m hungry.” He goes to push past Aunt May, pressing a kiss on her cheek, and handing her half his broken board in the process. 

Aunt May and Uncle Ben looked at me for answers, but I could only supply them a weak chuckle. Ben stood up to position himself next to May in the doorway of the kitchen, fitting myself right in between them.

The three of us watched as Peter dug out a yellow plate of what looked to be May’s meatloaf, unwrapping it, then proceeding to eat as if he hasn’t eaten anything in days, letting out breaths of relief. Was I somehow finding this attractive? Yes. “Drinking?” May questioned, eyes glancing at me as a quick analysis to see if I was in the same shape.

Ben, grasped the concept, and looked at me as well. I gave him a helpless shrug. 

“What’s this?” Peter asked.

“I don’t think so,” Ben answered to May.

“This is your meat loaf,” Peter concluded chuckling, continuing to lean against the opened fridge door. “This beats all other meat loafs.” 

Ben and I gave each other pointed looks of acknowledgement of his words.

“Something is very wrong,” May observed 

“Yeah,” Ben started.

“Nobody likes your meat loaf,” Ben and I finished at the same time.

May looked at us both in slight irritation, her previous concerned expression dropping.

I don’t even know how it happened but the next time I saw Peter he was carrying at least seven courses, including ice cream and–is that frozen mac n’ cheese?

Peter slid past the three of us, nearly dropping one of the containers which May immediately reached out to catch, but the crook of Peter’s elbow did the job for her. “I got it,” he affirmed. 

“He took the frozen macaroni and cheese,” May voiced.

“I noticed that,” Ben responded.

Ben and May looked at me with another interrogative gaze. 

I sucked on my teeth for a moment, “I really can’t answer that for you.” 

May looked at Ben and I with a more threatening appearance. “Why didn’t you guys tell me you didn’t like my meat loaf? Especially you Ben!” 

“Um…” He gaped at her.

“You could have said that to me 37 years ago—” 

“Y/n!” Peter called out from his room.

“You’re on your own Uncle Ben.” I saluted him, making a haste exit away from the conversation.

When I got to Peter’s room I didn’t find him. “Peter?” 

“In here,” a muffled voice says. 

I went to the bathroom, opening and closing the door to see him splashing water on his face. “Peter, what the hell was that all about?” 

“I don’t know,” he sighed.

He stared at his reflection, his hand reaching up at the collar of his shirt, connecting his fingers to something. 

“What’s that?” I took a step toward him to inspect. “It looks like—like a string.” 

He pulled at it, my eyes meeting what looked to be, “a bite.” 

He pulled on the string, a groan of pain escaping past his lips. He goes to look at it, a mixture of emotions flashing across his eyes as it now appear to resemble more of a web than a string. His eyebrows twitched up, as his eyes followed the trail that lead from his right hand to his left. He shuddered a couple of times. I didn’t dare to speak a word, rather just watched, but when I saw the dead spider at the end I nearly screamed. 

He looked away from it, blinking twice until they fully close.

“Peter,” I breathed. “You need to go to a hospital, that spider could’ve been deadly.” 

He shook his head now looking at me. I traced out his eyes that were bloodshot, a dark shadow casting underneath them. “No, we do not speak of this. I just–I just need some rest. You–you should go home.” 

I look at him taken aback. “Yeah. Right. Like I would ever leave you alone knowing this. What if you have a seizure or something? What if your skin starts burning holes? What if—” 

“I get it!” he snapped. “Fine. You can stay.” 

I gave him a proud smile. “Cool, see you in your room.” I smoothly winked at him, skipping off to allow him a second to himself. What a twist of events.

Beep—

I jumped up when Peter abruptly slammed his fist down on his alarm clock, the whole thing blowing up into bits. “Holy—my God, Peter, you—” My eyes set on the broken pieces of the poor alarm clock that got a taste of his newfound strength, coughing a little from the smoke 

His head burrowed into the pillow he had laying on the ground.

Despite having slept in the same bed multiple times, with said new strength Peter argued against it this time, claiming he'd accidentally hurt me in his sleep. With that said, he refused to have me sleep on the floor with my obvious concussion. “How are you feeling?” I asked. 

Groggily he got up, storming out, and to the bathroom.

It was less than a minute later when I heard him let out a small cry. “Peter?” I opened the door to see water shooting out from the faucet. “What did you do?” I closed the door in case either May or Ben decided to walk by. 

“Do you really need me to answer that?!” he replied, angry. He reached for the towel beside the sink, when the holder for it ripped off the wall. 

“Peter, just calm down!” I attempted to ease, as he frantically spun around. 

He tried to cover the broken faucet with the piece that he ripped off, eventually throwing the towel over it. His hand went toward the doorknob to the cabinet only to have that also be broken off. In defeat he looked at me.

“How about you try to open this door—” I knock edon the wood behind me, “—as carefully as possible?” 

He hesitated, but when I moved out of the way for him to obey, he walked up, only the tips of his fingers holding the doorknob, delicately turning it. Not without another look at me he left, slamming the door. “Thanks Peter,” I huffed, walking out of the bathroom.

When I went into Peter’s room I found him sitting on his bed, toothbrush in one hand, and the doorknob in the other. 

“Peter…?” I took soft steps toward him. 

He jolted up, turning his head to the side, frantically. He stared at something in horror. He jolted again, moving his whole body to turn toward his window, the blinds were down, the room dim. He held his toothbrush out in front of him as some form of defense. Realizing what he’s doing, he stood up. “I have to get to the bottom of this,” he told me. 

“You can say that again,” I laughed, going to his computer. 

His foot connected to a piece of paper which he struggled to get off. “You–you don’t have to—” he stammered when I offered to get it for him. “Thanks,” he muttered, sitting on his desk chair.

His typing was faster than lightning, looking up every possible thing about spiders and their bites. Nothing matching his problem. He lightly touches the bite on the back of his neck, a sudden impulse going through him as he typed, ‘Richard parker spider’, but it seemed to fade into random letters.

Peter and I both looked down at his hands which he lifts. Some of the keys, including the spacebar, stuck to his fingers. “Sticky like a spider,” I thought out loud. “You’re like a spider, but a man,” I paused, my tongue darting out to swipe over my lips in concentration. “A Spider-Man.” 

Comment to be added to the taglist !!

For those who used to be on my taglist and see this, please comment if you want to be on it again, as I have not written in a while and don't know what you're into now. Thank you.

[sunnyafternooons]

My request are open !

Hii, my name is Daisy and this is my new blog! I write fan fiction (mostly x reader). You can find my masterlist here .

[ro-is-struggling]

Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man || TASM!Peter Parker x Reader

Pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x Female Reader

Word count: 17000+ (okay, hear me out! the story is split into parts so you can close it and come back later and you won't miss anything)

Warnings: this is inspired by some of Peter 3 lines in No Way Home (about how he stopped pulling his punches) so there’s a lot of sadness over Gwen’s death, hurt/comfort, Peter being a flirty bastard, the reader doesn’t know Spider-Man’s identity for the most part, mentions of blood and injuries, Peter being scared of feelings, the reader getting attacked in the streets (but it’s very quick and nothing happens) and I think that’s it. But if I missed anything let me know!

This is just a bunch of cute scenarios with Peter and the reader comforting each other and developing feelings all while she doesn't know who’s under the mask, it’s really fluffy in my opinion so enjoy I guess

English is not my first language so there could be a lot of grammar mistakes in this.

Summary: Spider-Man was doing his night patrol when he heard the sobs of a lonely woman sitting on the sidewalk under the rain. He went over to help her, unaware that by doing so he was also helping himself. 

Or the one where two lonely souls find comfort in each other.

(I’m so bad at summaries I’m so sorry)

Notes: This is my first time writing tasm peter and I tried my best to capture his playful and flirty personality (that in my opinion peter 1 & 2 don't have). Also this fic was so much longer that it is right now. In my head this concept was better as a series, but I don’t have the time to write one right now so I edited it to fit all in one story. So if there are parts that don’t make sense or are worded a little weird that’s probably why! I tried my best to make this look good as a one shot, I’m sorry if it’s trash.

Also, can you guys tell I have a thing for hands?

I hope you like it! Likes, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

Peter was doing his usual patrol through the streets of New York. It was a quiet night, probably because of the rain that had been falling intermittently since sundown. In his years as Spider-Man he had found that rainy days tended to be quieter because there were fewer people on the streets. People who could stayed dry and safe in their homes, and those who were outdoors took refuge in cabs or public transportation to get home. He usually went out into the streets anyway, ready to help anyone in need, although he paid less attention to his surroundings, expecting less danger than usual. 

Despite the noise of the water droplets hitting the pavement he was able to hear a sound that caught his attention. He stopped swinging between the buildings for a moment to pay attention and discovered that what he heard was sobbing. Someone was crying, no doubt in need of his help, so Peter hurried to get to that neighbor in distress. He bounced from building to building, passing a few lamp posts and traffic lights, imagining the scene he would encounter when he landed. 

Maybe it was someone who was lost. Or maybe it was someone who was being robbed and crying in fear as they were stripped of their belongings. It wouldn't bother him if that was the case.He was eager to relieve the tension that was building up in his shoulders and so far he hadn't had the opportunity to engage in hand-to-hand combat with any criminals. Well, actually only one, but the police interrupted him before he could take out his frustrations on him. He held so much anger and resentment inside him since Gwen's death that he found it difficult to live his normal life as Peter. He needed to work through his emotions somehow and he had found that beating up criminals helped him. 

He landed in a dark, smelly alley and walked into the street very carefully, following the sound of the sobbing. He hoped he could surprise the criminals that way, save the victim and take out his frustrations before the police arrived to break up the fight. But, as he emerged from his hiding place he discovered that the street was deserted except for a couple of people walking quickly so as not to get wet under the rain. There was no armed bulky man attacking an innocent person or any other kind of disturbance. But what he did see was a girl sitting on the sidewalk crying in the rain. 

Every muscle in Peter's body relaxed at the realization that he wasn't supposed to engage in combat and his expression softened under the superhero mask. He wasn't sure if it was appropriate to approach her to ask how she was doing. He didn't want to frighten her or pry into matters that didn't concern him. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that something bad would have to have happened to her to end up crying audibly in the rain so late at night. Someone in that condition definitely needed Spider-Man's help, so he approached her.

Maybe she wasn't in the kind of imminent physical danger he had imagined, but saving someone from such a situation wasn't the only way to help them. Sometimes a couple of words of encouragement spoken at the right moment were just as important. So Peter walked over to her and asked if she was okay, resting a hand on her shoulder to get her attention. She was startled, but didn't answer him, choosing to concentrate on wiping away her tears rather than speaking.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" he insisted in a soft tone, trying to evoke calmness with his voice. 

"Can you be my friend?" she answered with a sarcastic snort. 

Peter was pretty sure she wasn't serious, but she really seemed to need a shoulder to cry on. So he sat down on the sidewalk next to her.

“That I can do! I am the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man after all.”

The young woman looked at him with a mixture of surprise and confusion. She didn't expect him to take her words seriously. She was pretty sure that a woman crying in the street didn't require the presence of a superhero like him. He must have had more important things to do, more important people to save. 

"You don't have to do that, Spider-Man. I'm sure there are plenty of people who need your help more than I do."

“Nah, I went around the neighborhood a few times today and apparently crime took a night off so I'm sorry, I guess you're stuck with me," he said and she let out a laugh that sounded more like a huff than anything else, shaking her head slightly. 

"I'm fine, you can go," she insisted, wiping the tears and water droplets from her face, thankful that it was finally stopping raining. At least she had that going for her.

"I'm not so sure of that. I mean, in my experience people don't sit on the sidewalk crying under the rain because they're happy. So...what happened to you?"

A silence formed as she contemplated her options. She didn't want to discuss her problems with a complete stranger whose face she couldn't even see. She didn't care how friendly and supportive Spider-Man was, talking to him about her personal problems was ridiculous and pathetic. He wasn't a therapist -at least she didn't think he was. He wasn't even her friend. He was a stranger brave - or insane - enough to put on a flashy suit and swing through the streets of Queens in search of danger. He was definitely not a suitable person to tell her problems to. 

But as she looked around she realized that she wasn't much better. She was crying in the middle of the street at 11 PM sitting in the rain. And all because she had missed the bus and now had to wait who knows how long for the next one.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. That was just the situation that had caused her breakdown, but it was far from being the cause of her tears. It had been a difficult time for her. Over the course of a couple of days she had been fired from her job, had failed a project she had been working on for weeks and had gotten into a fight with her best friend, the last close person in her life she had left. Her life was a complete mess, so perhaps she wasn't the best person to judge others. 

"Have you ever felt lonely, Spidey?" she asked him sourly. "But really lonely, not bored or sad, but pure, crushing loneliness. To the point of not having anyone to celebrate with when something good happens to you. Or who to share movie tickets with. Or who to call when you're sad.... I do.

She didn't bother to hide her tears or the pain in her voice. She figured there was no point, he had already heard her cry. She had no way to sink any lower, so she didn't bother to maintain any semblance of stability. Besides, she wasn't sure she could hold back the tears even if she tried. She had repressed her feelings for so long that now that she had finally snapped she had no way of going back. 

"You know what the worst part is? That it's my fault. I mean, it has to be. It's the only explanation I can find as to why everyone I love ends up walking away from me sooner or later," she added sobbing, not daring to look at the superhero next to her. "I don't know what I do to push people away so I can't change it. I just have to accept it and watch them go... I don't know... I must be a terrible person." 

The girl's words echoed in Peter's mind, his heart shattered not only by the sadness he heard in her voice, but also by the familiar feeling she described. He knew very well what loneliness was. It was one of very few emotions he felt since that tragic night when he had lost everything. Anger, guilt, resentment and loneliness had become his intimate friends, the only ones who accompanied him in the crushing emptiness that was his life. 

He knew all too well how horrible it was to have no one to call to celebrate moments of joy or share sadness because the one person he wanted to talk to was no longer there to answer him. And it was all his fault. Not a day went by in which he didn't remember it, the images imprinted in his memory with fire, impossible to erase. He knew what he had done wrong and had spent the last few years thinking about what he should have done to avoid it. But none of that mattered now, because Gwen wasn't by his side and there was nothing he could do to change that. 

"You're not a bad person," Peter said as soon as he found his voice. He hoped he didn't sound as terrible as he felt inside. He wanted to be a positive figure for her at that moment, to encourage her to stop crying. Something he wouldn't accomplish if he started talking about his own traumas. So he cleared his throat and made an effort to put aside his own emotions to concentrate on hers.

"You don't know that," she said, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "You don't even know me."

"That's true, I don't know you. But in my experience bad people don't question whether they are good or not. Let alone to the point of crying in the middle of the street, so I think you're safe."

She let out a bitter laugh and turned to look at him for the first time since seeing him sit next to her. She was surprised to notice how expressive the mask could be considering it covered the entirety of his features. The large eyes took up most of the upper space of the face and even though she wasn't able to see what was hidden behind it, she was able to feel his gaze on her. The superhero was watching her with his head tilted slightly to one side, giving him a curious expression. He was probably studying her, analyzing her face to find out how mentally unstable she was. At least that's what she thought.

"Maybe," she muttered with a shrug.

"Oh I know I'm right," Spider-Man replied. "I'm sure you're a good person because my spidey sense tells me so."

"Spidey sense?" she asked, looking at him with confusion. 

"Oh it's this thing I have, like a sixth sense that activates to alert me of danger and bad people nearby. And it hasn't been activated in all this time we've spent together, so you'll have to believe me when I tell you that you're a good person."

Spider-Man's voice sounded amused, to the point that she could have sworn he was smiling under the mask. His good humor was infectious and his words of encouragement helped her feel a little better. 

"Maybe I am," she finally admitted, letting out a sigh. "A very lonely good person, though."

"Who isn't lonely these days?"

"Touche."

"Besides, you're not lonely anymore, you have me. I'm your new best friend. So if at any time you need someone to talk to just go over to your window and yell as loud as you can. I promise I'll come running, or well, swinging I should say."

The young woman burst out laughing as she imagined that sequence. If there were any neighbors left who didn't think she was weird or a crazy hermit she would probably convince them otherwise if she started screaming for Spider-Man out her window. She could think of a couple of neighbors who would call for her eviction from the building immediately because of the excessive noise. And she didn't even want to imagine what it would be like to endure the barking of her neighbor's poodle, who seemed to think any sound was worthy of an hour-long concert of uninterrupted howling and growling. Although she had to admit that being kicked out of her home over having Spider-Man for a friend sounded fun and kind of tempting, despite how insane it would really be. 

Hearing her laugh filled Peter with happiness. He always felt a strange combination of euphoria, relief and pride when he helped someone in danger, but this time it was something different. This time he wasn't saving someone from falling off a cliff or stopping a bus with his bare hands. He was sitting next to a girl who in some ways felt as lonely and broken inside as he did. It was nice to find the words to help her in that dark moment of her life, giving her the comfort he was unable to give himself. 

"What if I want to go to the movies?" she asked, imagining how comical it would be to enter the theater with Spider-Man at her side. 

"What about that? I can see perfectly well with the mask on," he answered as if it were obvious. 

"Do you think they'd let you come in dressed like that?"

"If we go to the movie theater a few blocks from here, yeah. I stopped a robbery there a couple of months ago and they're very grateful to me. In fact, I think I might be able to get us a couple of free tickets."

"It's okay, you don't have to do that."

"Why? Are you embarrassed to be seen with Spider-Man at the movies?" He said, pretending to be offended. "Is it the colorful suit? Because I can wear a more neutral one."

"No, of course not!" she was quick to affirm, laughing at the dramatic tone in the superhero's voice. "And for the record, I think your costume is great."

"Thank goodness! Because there are endless common activities I can do with the suit on. It's not limiting at all if you stop being afraid of other people's opinions. So I hope you're not uncomfortable with people looking at you, because I can assure you that everyone's eyes will be on us." 

"You don't even know my name!" she exclaimed in amusement, reminding him how ridiculous it sounded to make plans to go out together as if they had known each other all their lives. 

"What's your name?"

"Y/N."

"Aha, I knew it! You look like your name is Y/N."

“Wow you are so full of shit”

“No, It's part of our connection, I could sense your name before you told me. Face it, Y/N, we're best friends."

Y/N let out a laugh, shaking her head slightly in amazement at his insistence. His cheerful personality was infectious, making it impossible for her not to smile at his comments. Spider-Man seemed genuinely interested in improving her mood and had succeeded. It was hard to resist when he acted with such determination. 

She would be eternally grateful to him for stopping to talk to her. He could have ignored her. She was a complete stranger and he was a superhero with far more pressing situations to attend to than her bad day. However, he had taken the time to sit and listen to what an emotionally unstable girl crying in the rain had to say. Not only that, but he hadn't stopped until he made her smile. That kind of treatment he displayed with the people he helped was what told her he was a good person. 

"Thank you for everything, Spidey," she thanked him as soon as she calmed her laughter. "I really appreciate you taking the time to talk to me, I really needed it." 

"That's what I'm here for," he said, tilting his head in a subtle bow. "Is there anything else I can do for you? Maybe walk you home or something? It's late, you shouldn't be out on the street alone.” 

"Oh, no, I'm fine. You've done too much already. The bus should be coming by in a little while, I live a couple of stops from here."

"I can take you faster," he said, pointing at his wrists. 

"I'm sure you can, but your method is too risky for my taste. It would involve being suspended several meters above the ground, hanging by a small thread in the rain."

"It stopped raining," he corrected her, as if that would make any difference. "Besides, my webs are very strong."

"I believe you, but I'm not ready to test them for myself yet."

"All right, you win," Peter said, throwing his hands up in defeat. "We can walk."

"It's like 30 blocks."

"I don't mind walking, but if you get tired I can carry you on my back."

Y/N was tempted by the offer. She had to admit that the opportunity to be carried home by a superhero didn't present itself every day. She wondered how it would feel, but she didn't want to cause any more inconvenience. He had done enough for her.

"I still think the bus is faster." 

"Are you sure? Because we've been sitting here talking for like fifteen minutes and there's no sign of it showing up," he said, getting up from the ground to look off into the distance in search of the bus. 

Y/N let out a sigh knowing the superhero was right. The bus line he used was often a mess, especially during the evening hours. The vehicles would pass by spaced out for hour-long periods of time or more, if she was lucky enough to have them pass by at all. She already had one bad experience where the bus left her stranded when she left a friend's house late. And she didn't want to go through that again. 

"We can walk a few blocks and if we see the bus show up I promise I'll stop it with my bare hands so you can get on, what do you say?" Spider-Man offered, seeing the doubt in her expression. 

Y/N wondered if it was appropriate to tell a complete stranger where she lived, worried that it was dangerous. And maybe it was, but there was something about Spider-Man that inspired her trust. This was the first time she'd come across him. So far she'd only heard his name on the news or read about his deeds on social media, where people he'd helped told of their experiences. But despite that, she felt safe next to him. So when he held out his hand to help her up, she took it without a second thought.

"My hero!" she exclaimed in amusement as she imagined him chasing the bus to let her get on at a street where there was no stop. "Are you this kind to everyone you meet on the street or only to those who are having a mental breakdown under the rain? "she added as they started walking. This time it was Peter who let out a long laugh. 

"Only if they're pretty like you," he replied in a flirty humorous tone.

She knew he wasn't serious, but she still couldn't prevent from blushing at the compliment. Peter looked at her in amusement as he realized how easy it was to dye her cheeks pink. He had to bite his tongue to keep from blurting out similar comments throughout their walk, suddenly interested in testing her limits.

They walked through the streets of New York at a leisurely pace taking advantage of the fact that the rain had stopped. Y/N was glad she accepted the superhero's offer, not only because she didn't see a single bus pass by during the entire journey, but also because the walk helped clear her mind. Talking with him about trivial matters allowed her to let go of the negative thoughts and frustration that had taken hold of her. He made her laugh and knew how to keep the casual chatter afloat which made the walk seem shorter than it really was. Y/N didn't notice they had reached their destination until she found herself standing outside the door of the building she lived in.

"Well, we are here," she mumbled, not quite sure how to say goodbye. A kiss on the cheek seemed silly since he was wearing a mask, and a hug was too personal. But she didn't think it was appropriate to disappear behind the doors of the building with a simple goodbye after all he had done for her. So she stood there, fiddling nervously with the edges of her jacket sleeves, not knowing what else to do.

"Thank you for everything," she thanked him again, giving him a genuine smile.

“You don't have to thank me, it's my job," he told her even though they both knew it wasn't true. He decided to take care of the well-being of the people of New York, but it wasn't his responsibility. He was just a nice guy. "Now go home, relax and try to get some sleep. Everything will be better in the morning."

"Whatever you say, Mr. Spidey!" she exclaimed, holding a hand to her temple as if he was an army general and she was his subordinate. He laughed and began to walk away towards the sidewalk. She took the opportunity to walk up the steps of the building, struggling to find her keys in the dim light of the night. 

Before entering her home she turned to look at Spider-Man one last time. He gave her a wave, to which she returned with a smile. Then she watched him throw a spider web into the air, sticking to some light pole or wall opposite him. 

"Don't forget to yell for me if you need me!" was the last thing she heard him say before he disappeared into the darkness of the night.

Peter thought that would be the last he would see of Y/N. It was not uncommon for him to lose contact with the people he helped. Sometimes he didn't even get a chance to ask them their name before they fled in fear to a safe place. Maybe if he was lucky he would run into her at some point as he roamed the neighborhood, though he hoped it wouldn't be under dangerous circumstances. So that night before going to bed he asked the universe to be good to her, thinking that would be it.

However, the next night he was greatly surprised to discover that his body ended up leading him to that bus stop where they had met. He didn't do it consciously and he didn't think it was very likely that they would meet again either, but apparently his mind hadn't completely forgotten the whole thing. He had a strange need to know if she was all right and he didn't quite understand why. 

He suspected it had to do with the way he identified with her words. He knew very well the hell that life could become when one felt alone. He had spent the last years of his life trapped in that dark, empty hole, accompanied only by guilt, pain and resentment. He was still trapped in that black hole and that was why he wanted to prevent her from ending up like him. No one deserved to go through that.

So he waited for Y/N sitting on the ledge of a building and when he saw her appear in the distance he didn't hesitate to climb down to approach her. The girl was surprised to see him there, but greeted him with joy. They chatted about their day as they waited for the bus to arrive. Peter noticed that she was in a better mood than the night before, although he could still distinguish some sadness in her eyes. He cracked a couple of jokes to hear her laugh and when the bus appeared he let her go, knowing he would do the same thing again the next day and every day after that until he no longer saw the sadness hidden in her eyes. 

Their friendship grew with every little encounter they had. Peter learned her routine and whenever he could he would stop by the bus stop to talk to her and find out how she was doing. Sometimes he would even walk over to her college to join her from there so they would have more time to chat. He discovered that he enjoyed her company. She was a nice, friendly and fun girl, so he went out of his way to maintain their friendship. Even if that friendship consisted of short casual encounters in which he remained anonymous, hiding in his superhero costume. 

He had thought about revealing his true identity to her a couple of times, but always came to the conclusion that it was better that she didn't know. Telling her his secret would make their relationship much more personal and then she would be in danger. He couldn't let anything happen to her, especially not because of him, so it was better for things to remain as they were. 

Peter waited for Y/N in the same building as always, keeping an eye out for the movement of people on the street in case she showed up-or someone needed his help. However, the minutes passed and there was no sign of her. He thought that perhaps her class had been extended or maybe she had stopped to talk to a classmate. He considered approaching the college to make sure she was okay, but in the end decided it would be best to wait where he was. If she had already left and he was moving they might miss each other on the way.

At the hour mark Peter began to worry. All logic disappeared from his mind as a voice inside him wondered if there was any chance she was in danger. Perhaps she had been attacked on the road. Or maybe she had suffered some kind of accident and was in the hospital. Or maybe...

"That's enough!" he whispered in an attempt to control his thoughts. "She's all right."

That seemed to keep the voices in his head at bay, but the idea was already planted in his mind, the worry increasing with every second. He couldn't help it. Panic would overtake him every time one of his loved ones didn't answer his calls or didn't read his messages. He was used to expecting the worst in life after everything that had happened to him. So he decided the best thing he could do at a time like this was to go to Y/N's house to check on her and make sure she was okay to calm his panicked mind.

He swung down the street quickly and without being very careful. It wasn't the first time he had gone to her house. He had accompanied her on foot a couple of times so he knew the way by heart. When he reached his destination he climbed up the fire escape until he reached her window. He was glad to see the faint glow of light behind the curtains because it meant she was home safe.

He tapped his knuckles on the glass a couple of times, being careful not to use too much force so as not to damage the window. He waited a few seconds, listening closely to the muffled noise coming from the other side. Then Y/N's face emerged from the curtains, looking at him with a mixture of surprise and confusion.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, opening the window and stepping aside to let him through. "I don't remember yelling for you."

"No, no, I know. It's just that I was waiting for you and you didn't show up. I got worried and stopped by to make sure you were okay," he explained, hoping the desperation wasn't clear in his voice. 

"Oh, I'm sorry about that. I didn't go to class today, I wasn't feeling very well."

Y/N walked over to her bed, sitting down on the mess of disarranged sheets and blankets on the mattress. Peter took the opportunity to look around the room, immediately noticing the boxes of tissues scattered on the side of the bed. The small trash can next to the nightstand was overflowing with used tissues and a teacup rested next to the lamp, forgotten there for who knows how long. 

Outside of the clear signs that Y/N was ill, the room was clean and well decorated. The walls displayed a couple of posters of her favorite movies and artists. The desk was neatly arranged, with stacks of books and notes from her classes. On the small dresser on one side rested a couple of photographs of her friends and family. Peter smiled, it was just how he had imagined her room would look.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. How are you feeling now?" he asked, concerned about her condition. Even under the dim light of the night lamp he could see her red nose and tired eyes. 

"I'm a little better," she admitted, giving him a weak smile. "I took some painkillers and spent the day sleeping and that seemed to help a lot."

"Did you eat anything at all during the day?" Peter asked, sitting on the edge of the bed with her. Y/N paused to think about her day.

"Does tea count as food?"

"No!"

"I'm sorry, don't be mad at me," the girl pouted. "I was going to get up and make some soup, but I don't have much energy and my muscles hurt for some reason."

"How can you expect to have energy if you haven't eaten anything all day!" Spider-Man exclaimed with an angry motherly tone that put a smile on Y/N's face. He shook his head, silently disapproving of her behavior, and headed for the bedroom door.

"Where are you going?"

"To make you something to eat." 

He spoke as if that was a completely normal thing to do. As if having a superhero walking around her house preparing dinner for her as if he were her professional chef was something that happened every day. Y/N followed him into the kitchen, telling him he didn't have to do anything, reassuring him that she was already feeling better. But Spider-Man ignored her.

"It's my duty to protect the neighborhood and you are a crucial member of this neighborhood, so let me help you" he said in a dramatic tone that made her laugh. 

"You don't even know where I store stuff," she mentioned, reminding him that he had never entered her house before.

"I think I can manage on my own. I have a kitchen too, I know how they work."

"And you won't make a mess?" she asked, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Of course not! I'm here to help," he replied, sounding offended that she had suggested such a thing. "Now go back to bed and let me work."

After giving her a couple of basic pointers on the organization of her kitchen Y/N went back to her room. She grabbed her cell phone from the nightstand and opened the camera. Then she slipped down the hallway trying to make as little noise as possible, and snapped a couple of pictures that captured the strange event unfolding in her kitchen. She didn't plan on showing them to anyone, it was mostly a souvenir for her. Evidence that Spider-Man really had come into her house to cook her dinner and that it hadn't been a dream or a hallucination due to a very high fever. 

While the superhero worked in the kitchen she tried to tidy up her room a bit. She threw away the used tissues that rested on her bed along with the empty boxes. She pulled back the sheets to make the bed look more presentable and fixed her messy hair from the hours she had spent sleeping. She'd gone through enough embarrassment letting him see her in that state, with a red nose and a raspy voice from the discomfort in her throat. She didn't need to add to it. 

Spider-Man entered the room shortly after with a tray in his hands. On it he had placed a bowl of soup with a couple of crackers, a glass of water and a couple of napkins. Y/N accepted the food gladly, realizing how hungry she was when she smelled the soup. She enjoyed the way the warm liquid ran down her throat, easing away the discomfort inside her. 

As she ate, Peter took the liberty of scanning the room more closely. He flipped through the titles in the stack of books on her desk, flipping through her class notes curiously. Then he moved toward the picture frames on the dresser, photographs that told the story of her life. He was amused to see that she had a couple of pictures from her childhood. He paid special attention to one where she was hugging another little girl and they were both smiling at the camera showing their missing teeth without any embarrassment. 

His eyes then moved on to another one in which she appeared to be in high school. She looked very different, with a different haircut and the pair of glasses on her nose framing her face differently. Although he couldn't say they looked bad on her.

"I don't talk to half the people in those pictures anymore," said Y/N from the bed, finishing her soup. "They're all childhood friends who I lost touch with due to the ways of life, you know. I don't know why I still have those pictures there. I guess they remind me of the happy times I shared with them."

Peter understood perfectly well what she meant. He still kept the photos he had of Gwen, although in his case he stored them in a drawer. But they served the same purpose: to remember her and how happy he had been with her. Sometimes he would spend hours admiring her smile in those photos, losing himself in the pain and nostalgia, remembering the way his heart would race when he heard her laugh. 

"I don't know, I think you look really cute in this one," he said, showing her a picture of her posing with a friend dressed as Britney Spears in the Baby One More Time music video. He couldn't help but smile under the mask as he saw the horror on her face when she realized which photo he was referring to. Her cheeks flushed red and Peter felt the urgent need to pinch them. 

"Oh God! I forgot that one was there," she exclaimed, embarrassed by the revealing outfit she was wearing in the photo. "It was for a costume party. I was Britney and my friend was Christina."

“Don't be embarrassed, you look pretty," he tried to cheer her up, but his comment only worsened her condition. 

"Well if you like it so much for next Halloween we can dress up as Britney and Justin in their iconic jean outfits." Peter let out a laugh, imagining himself wearing that hideous jean outfit. It would look completely ridiculous, but he wasn't opposed to the idea. He admitted it would be fun to laugh with her about those outfits for a while.

The conversation turned to the subject of Halloween after that comment. They discussed the worst costumes they had ever worn to a party and mentioned which ones they had always wanted to wear but hadn't had the chance yet. She told him about the wide variety of costumes she would like to wear but couldn't because she didn't go to many parties and because, in her words "they were too covered up and true to the original characters" to wear to a party. For some reason he found that comment adorable. In the end, Y/N seemed to be an antisocial hermit just like him. 

When she finished eating, Peter took it upon himself to carry the dishes to the kitchen, taking the tea cup from the bedside table on the way out. He returned a few seconds later with a glass of fresh water which he propped up next to the lamp so that she would have something to drink in case she needed it. Then he settled once again at the foot of the bed, facing her.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked, resting a hand on her leg.

"Yes, thank you," she said, nodding her head slightly.

The girl's eyes were fixed on the superhero's hand, which rested delicately on the area of her knee. She enjoyed the light touch despite the fact that they were separated by two different layers of clothing. Inspecting the suit more closely she was able to notice new details, such as the texture of the fabric and the exact shape of the web shooters. Though the detail that caught her attention the most was the almost imperceptible seam found on his wrist, indicating that what covered his hand was a glove and not the suit's sleeve. 

It was then that an idea formed in her mind.

"Can I see your hands?" she suddenly blurted out without realizing what she was saying.

"What?" asked Spider-Man in confusion.

"Your hands, I want to see them."

"Why do you want to see my hands?"

"I don't know... You know so much about me and I haven't even seen your face," she explained with a shrug. "Which is fine. I understand that your identity is personal and all.... But, I don't know, I thought seeing your hands would be the best way to know something about you without it being something too compromising like your face or your name. Unless you have any distinctive scars or birthmarks.... But in that case I promise not to use that information to investigate your true identity," Y/N rambled, nervously. She put her hand to her heart at the end of the sentence to show her honesty and Peter laughed. 

He analyzed the situation for a moment, wondering if there was any risk in taking off his gloves in front of her. He didn't have any distinguishing marks on his hands, and even if he did he knew he could trust Y/N. There was something about her, her aura, her demeanor, that inspired him with confidence. He was sure he could trust her with the secret of his identity if he wanted to because she would never give him away. She was that kind of friend, loyal and companionable. And maybe that was what drove him to her.

"Go ahead," he finally said, extending his arms to bring his hands towards her.

The young woman looked at him for a moment trying to read his expression through the mask. She seemed surprised that he had agreed to her strange request so Peter nodded slightly to reassure her that he was fine with it. And that gesture was enough for her to proceed.

She began by resting her hands over his, familiarizing herself with the fabric of the suit, tracing each line delicately with her fingers. Then she carefully tugged at the glove to reveal the skin hidden beneath. When his bare hand was exposed before her eyes Y/N let out a gasp of air she hadn't realized she was holding. Her eyes admired his palm as her fingers caressed the area delicately, going from his wrist all the way to the tips of his fingers. Then she turned over his hand and stroked the back of it, showing it the same delicate and affectionate treatment before advancing to the other hand. 

Her heart beat rapidly against her chest. There was something so intimate about what they were doing that she couldn't help but feel a tingle run through her body. It was almost as if she was doing something forbidden. She wasn't supposed to see his hands without the suit and the fact that he had allowed her to do so filled her with joy. He trusted her. That gesture, though small and insignificant to anyone else, showed her the depth of their bond. He was her actual friend and trusted her enough to show her a part of the real him, of the person who was hidden behind the red and blue suit. Thinking about it brought tears to her eyes. She wasn't completely alone after all.

The difference in size was the first thing she noticed as their hands intertwined. Spider-Man's hands were big, but they looked even bigger next to hers. He also had long, slender fingers decorated by short, well-maintained fingernails. And a couple of veins were marked on the back of his hands, creating trails that she followed with her eyes until they disappeared under the suit's sleeve. Y/N also noticed a couple of bruises and scrapes on his knuckles, the shades of red and yellow highlighted against his light skin. She had to restrain the urge to kiss the wounds, reminding herself that it would be too weird.

Peter watched her admire his hands closely. Electricity coursed through his body with every little caress she provided on his skin. She looked so absorbed, completely amazed to have the opportunity to intertwine their hands without the barrier of the gloves. The air caught in his throat and the blood from his entire body concentrated in his cheeks, suddenly embarrassed by Y/N's delicate touch. He had never gone through a similar experience before. No one had ever admired his hands with such devotion so he didn't know exactly how to react. He felt a pleasant tingling in his stomach and for a moment he wished he could stay there forever, reveling in the inner peace he felt from having their hands laced together like that.

"You have very nice hands," she said, looking up to meet his face.

"Are they everything you had imagined?" he joked in response, appealing to his sense of humor to hide what he really felt.

"Shut up!" Y/N exclaimed, looking away in embarrassment. She dropped his hands suddenly, as if they were burning her. She didn't want Spider-Man to think she was weird.

But then she felt the superhero's hands closing over hers. She looked up and her heart skipped a beat at the sight of their intertwined fingers. She relished in the warm feeling of his skin against hers. There was something so comforting about the way their hands fit together. She could very well stay in that pose for the rest of her life without letting out a single complaint. 

"I like your hands too," he said in an almost inaudible whisper. 

Y/N wondered if he felt the same electricity coursing through his body at her touch, if he found the same level of comfort in the way their hands seemed to fit together so perfectly. The girl wished at that moment she could see his face to read his expression, to search his eyes for something that would tell her he felt the same way she did. But when she looked up she met her own gaze reflected in the large eyes of the superhero's mask. 

The moment was interrupted by the flu attacking Y/N's immune system. Since Spider-Man's surprise arrival at her house she had been feeling so well that she forgot she was sick. But the itch in her throat that suddenly appeared forced her to break away from the superhero so she could cough. He gently patted her back and reached for the glass of water, prompting her to drink the liquid to improve her condition. 

"Better?” he asked as he took the glass from her hands and placed it on the bedside table. She nodded. "Cmon, let's get you into bed.”

Spider-Man helped her pull back the sheets and once she was back on the mattress he tucked her in, wrapping her in the fluffy blankets. He asked her a couple of times if she was comfortable to which she always replied positively. He then told her to try to get some sleep before heading for the window. He was ready to leave to let her rest, but Y/N's voice stopped him.

"Wait!" She exclaimed, forcing him to turn around. "I don't want you to go."

The room fell silent. It took Y/N a few seconds to understand why. But when she realized what she had said the blush rose up her neck all the way to her cheeks. She hadn't meant to say that. Well, actually she had, but not in such a direct way. She enjoyed his company, especially in the situation she was in. His visit had been the only good thing in her day. But she wasn't going to tell him that.

“I m-meant t-to say that I'm not feeling sleepy yet and that, umm... I-I'd like you to stay a little while longer. If you can, of course, I, um, I don't want to inconvenience you or anything," she babbled nervously, trying to get out of the embarrassing situation she had gotten herself into.

Peter wasn't able to resist her when she looked at him with those big eyes full of illusion. His heart melted with tenderness at the way she struggled to find the words to ask him to stay, the blush reddening her cheeks giving her an adorable aura. He had nothing better to do, so he walked back to the bed and sat on the edge, giving her room to lie down comfortably.

They talked for a while about everything and nothing, as they used to do whenever they were together. Peter noticed how gradually Y/N's eyes closed tiredly, her voice getting softer and softer and more and more paused. Until eventually she fell asleep. The faint sound of her calm breathing was all that could be heard in the room. He smiled as he saw her curled up in a fetal position under the covers, her hair spread out on the pillow as if it were a halo of light framing her figure. She looked lovely and Peter found it hard to look away from her. He admired the peace she radiated, silently envying how easy it was for her to surrender to the arms of Morpheus. Why couldn't he be the same?

It was approaching that time of year Peter dreaded so much. The anniversary of one of the worst days of his life. The date that reminded him of the worst mistake he had made since the first time he put on the Spider-Man suit. He couldn't escape the guilt that haunted him at every moment. The pain, a crushing emptiness in the middle of his chest that made it difficult for him to breathe. 

He dreamed every night of the last moments of Gwen's life. He saw her fall again and again, and despite all his efforts to reach her, he was never able to get to her. He watched her die continuously. And when he woke up, her figure would watch him from the foot of the bed. It was an illusion that lasted only a few seconds, but it was enough time for him to question his mental sanity. She always looked disappointed, sometimes angry. She blamed him for her fate, he could see it in her eyes. 

Peter knew it was all a product of his imagination. His dream-confused mind projected his feelings of guilt onto those images. But that didn't make it any easier to deal with. He didn't want to sleep because he knew that as soon as he closed his eyes she would appear in front of him. So he avoided it as much as possible. He spent his nights wandering the dangerous streets of New York, taking out his frustrations on the criminals who were unlucky enough to cross his path. 

He was not particularly careful with his attacks when he was in this state. He was too tired, too sad, to worry about such things. He would suffer the consequences later when he returned home bleeding and with his suit in tatters, but at least that gave him another excuse not to sleep.  

That night was no different than any other. His mind clouded by loneliness and exhaustion often made bad decisions. That's how he ended up in a situation more dangerous and complicated than he had anticipated. And even though he had emerged victorious, he didn't do so without taking a beating at the hands of his opponents. Dazed from the blows and bleeding from several open wounds, Peter used what little strength he had left to escape the scene before the police arrived. He planned to return home so he could heal and try to hit the streets for a couple more hours, but halfway through he changed his mind. 

He told himself that he was too weak, that he wouldn't make it home before passing out, that he needed to find a closer shelter. He convinced himself that it was purely a physical need and nothing more. Though deep down he knew that his real motivation for heading to Y/N's house and not his own was that he didn't want to be alone. He ignored that voice in his mind because he wasn't ready to listen to it. He wasn't ready to admit that he simply couldn't go on this way, pushing all his loved ones away to protect them while he suffered in silence. 

The poor girl was sitting at her desk, concentrating on finishing a paper for a class when she heard noises coming from the window. She paused the soothing music she had put on to concentrate and turned in her chair to inspect the strange sounds. She immediately encountered the figure of a man crouching on the other side and didn't have to pull back the curtains to know who it was. Y/N approached the window with a smile, happy that her friend had come to visit her. His cheerful presence was just what she needed at that moment. However, her expression changed completely as soon as she saw the state he was in.

"Oh my God, what happened to you?" she asked in horror as she helped him slip through the window. His suit was ripped in several places where the exposed skin was stained red from the blood pouring from his wounds. The gashes on his chest and abdomen appeared to be the most severe, but not the only ones. Y/N noticed a couple of cuts on both arms and one of his thighs. He moved with some difficulty and as soon as he passed the window sill he collapsed on the wooden floor of the room. 

"I'm all right. You should see the other guys," he said with a wince.

"You don't look so good."

"I will be. Do you have a first aid kit?"

Y/N nodded, but didn't move. It took her a few seconds to react and go find it in the bathroom, concern clouding her mind. Spider-Man was hurt and she had never seen anything like it. She wasn't an accident prone person, she hadn't even broken a bone in the years she had been alive, so she had never seen similar injuries. And the shock of seeing him in that state paralyzed her. Even though she knew that what he did as Spider-Man was dangerous, she had never thought about how risky it could be. Seeing him bleeding on the floor of her room had been far too real of an image, one she wasn't prepared to see. 

When her brain snapped back into action the young woman ran to the bathroom to get what she needed. She frantically flipped through the cabinet drawers under the sink until she found the small white box filled with medical supplies. She made sure to also grab a clean cloth before returning to the room where the superhero was waiting for her. He had shifted position, opting to lean his back against the wall under the window. Though the first thing Y/N noticed upon returning to his side was that he had pulled his mask up over his nose, leaving his mouth and chin exposed. His lips were cracked and bloodstained, but despite that she couldn't help but think Spider-Man had nice lips. 

"How do we do this?" she asked, kneeling down beside him, not knowing where to start. 

"I need you to help me take off my suit."

Peter instructed her to reach for the small zipper hidden in the back of the suit and she obeyed, approaching him with trembling hands. He leaned forward to give her room to pull the zipper down the length of his spine, enduring the stabbing pain that awakened. He felt the delicate touch of her fingers on the skin of his back. One hand worked on the zipper while the other removed the suit from his shoulders. Peter took a deep breath, enjoying the freedom he felt with the spandex no longer tightly hugging his body. He let himself fall back against the wall once more, letting out an involuntary grunt of pain. 

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather go to a hospital?" asked the girl as she gently tugged on the sleeve of his suit to free his right arm. 

"Yeah, it's fine, don't worry. My body heals faster than normal," he reassured her. He removed the rest of the top part of the suit by himself until it became a pile of crumpled fabric on his hips. "We just have to get the bleeding to stop and then close the wound. My body will take care of the rest."

Y/N nodded. She wasn't entirely convinced this was a good idea, but she didn't say anything. Instead, she took the clean cloth she had brought with her from the bathroom and pressed it over the wound on his abdomen. Spider-Man let out a groan of pain and she quickly apologized, worried that she might have hurt him. She had never treated a similar injury before, so it was very likely that she was doing things wrong. She was about to remove her hands to release some of the pressure she was putting on his body, when she felt the superhero's hands closing over hers. She looked up to look at him and he gave her a weak smile to indicate that she was doing a good job. 

It was a subtle smile, his lips barely curving upward, but it was enough to make Y/N momentarily forget the circumstances she found herself in. A strange tingle ran through her body as she realized that this was the first time she had ever seen him smile. Her gaze lingered on his lips for longer than it probably should, admiring every little detail she was able to catch in case she never got the chance to see his smile again. When she realized what she was doing she looked down, embarrassed. She felt the blood rush up her neck to spread over her cheeks as she prayed he hadn't noticed her behavior.

Returning her attention to the wound, she noticed that the cloth under her hands was rapidly turning red. She could feel the warm, thick blood under her fingers. There was a metallic taste in her mouth, though she wasn't sure if that was due to the particles of the superhero's blood traveling through the air or her lower lip that she had caught between her teeth, biting down hard. 

She was nervous and somewhat embarrassed to have Spider-Man half naked in her room. The situation was horrible and stressful, but despite everything a part of her couldn't help but admire his abdomen as if it were the most beautiful piece of art she ever laid her eyes on. She told herself it was because she was amazed to see a part of his body that wasn't covered by the suit, but that was a half-truth. 

"I think the bleeding has stopped." Spider-Man's voice brought her back to reality. She carefully removed the cloth from the wound without daring to look up, embarrassed by her thoughts. 

"What's next?" she asked him in a whisper, assuming he knew more about first aid than she did.

"We have to clean the wound so it doesn't get infected and then close it."

"Close it as in stitch it up?"

Y/N knew the answer to her question, she just wasn't sure she was capable of doing something like that. She was not trained to stitch a wound. She was not a nurse and had never been in a similar situation before. The only medical training she had came from the first aid course she had attended in high school several years ago and what she had seen on Grey's Anatomy, though she doubted that would help her now.

"Don't worry, I can do it myself," Peter said, reading the panic in Y/N's expression. "Just pass me the first aid kit." 

"No, no, it's okay. I can do it," she said, clearing her throat to make her voice sound firmer. 

"Are you sure?" he asked and she nodded.

"I want to help you." 

She gave him a small smile, hoping that was enough to convince him. He nodded slightly and she took that gesture as a sign to start working. She grabbed a gauze pad from the first aid kit and soaked it with the antiseptic liquid before pressing it on the cut. Peter hissed in pain and she looked at him apologetically. 

"I'm sorry," she apologized, moving the gauze over the wound more carefully.

"It's okay, it's not your fault. You're doing a great job."

It was a simple comment, but the compliment helped her gain a little more confidence in her actions. She cleaned the wound with firm hands, but applying a delicate touch. When it came time to stitch the cut, she let him guide her through the process. Watching the needle pierce his skin was a strange and not at all pleasant sight, but she got used to it faster than she expected. Spider-Man would utter words of encouragement from time to time, reassuring her that she was doing things right and thanking her for her help. She could feel his intense gaze on her as she worked, but she was able to keep her composure, enjoying his compliments.

"See, that wasn't so hard," he said when she announced she was done. "You did a great job." 

When she finished properly bandaging the wound on his abdomen Y/N moved on to the small cuts that adorned the rest of his body. Her confidence grew as she worked, certain that there was nothing she could do to hurt him further. She carefully disinfected and bandaged the gash on his chest and then moved on to the cuts on his arms. She took her time with each wound, working gently to avoid causing him more pain and discomfort than he probably already felt.

"You have to be more careful," she told him as she finished cleaning a wound on his shoulder. 

"I'm usually more careful. This was just a small mistake, there were more men than I expected." 

"Yes well, a small mistake that left you sheared like cheese." Peter let out a laugh that turned into a whimper of pain halfway through due to the tension the muscle movement generated in his wound. "Do I have to worry about you being followed and my life being in danger?"

"You are safe. I would never have come if I suspected there was the slightest possibility that you were in danger," he replied in a serious tone that showed Y/N how honest his words were. "I took care of them."

"You took care of them?" asked the young woman, looking at the superhero with a raised eyebrow. The way he pronounced those words sounded a bit sinister. 

"I didn't kill them if that's what you're thinking," Peter clarified. "I knocked them unconscious and I'm pretty sure the police were on their way to arrest them." 

"Oh. Good," she muttered, not sure what else to say. She proceeded to wipe the blood from under his nose and at the corner of his lips. She cupped his face with one hand, fingers closing over his chin so she could tilt his head in her direction. Then she slid the gauze across his skin gently, making sure to remove all traces of blood from the area. She slowly moved down to his mouth, being very careful as she touched his injured lips. Though despite her precautions, he let out a hiss of pain when the liquid made contact with the irritated skin. 

"I'm sorry," she murmured apologetically. She offered him a small smile before blowing lightly on the skin of his lips to soothe the sting.

Peter accepted the gesture gladly. Her breath was warm, providing great relief to his irritated skin. Y/N leaned towards him to be more precise, and then he realized how close they were to each other. Their noses, separated by barely a couple of centimeters, almost bumped into each other. The scent of her floral perfume flooded his senses, clouding his mind. The brush of her fingers on his chin awakened a strange tingle on his skin, and the warmth of her body enveloped him in a comforting embrace.

Overwhelmed by his feelings, Peter closed his eyes in an attempt to gather his thoughts. A sigh escaped his half-opened lips and it turned into a whimper when he stopped feeling Y/N's breath mingling with his own.

"Better?" she asked, forcing him to open his eyes again and snap back to reality.

Peter nodded slightly since he didn't trust his voice to speak. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing with the action. Y/N's eyes followed the small lump, distracted for a moment as she admired the veins marking on his neck, before returning her attention to his face. 

When she finished wiping away the blood, she kept her hand on his chin for longer than necessary. Her thumb brushed his lower lip, eager to discover its texture. Despite being injured, the skin of his mouth felt soft against her fingertip and Y/N couldn't help but wonder if it would feel the same while kissing him. 

Luckily she regained control over her body in time and was able to stop herself before she did something she would later regret. Spider-Man was her friend. Someone who protected her on the street and with whom she talked about her day and nothing else. She didn't have a crush on him and she didn't want to kiss him either. Of course not! That was ridiculous. She hadn't even seen his face. Developing feelings for a complete stranger was stupid and irresponsible.

Although he wasn't a complete stranger. Not to her. She knew things about him despite never having seen his face, things that made her feel a certain way. 

"You're all done!" Y/N announced, stepping away from the superhero as far as she could to keep her feelings at bay. She began to pick up the things from the first aid kit scattered on the floor to occupy her mind on something else, taking the opportunity to clean the blood from her hands. 

"Thank you," he mumbled, struggling to get up from the floor. Seeing how hard it was for him to move, she ran to his aid. She took him by the waist, putting his arm around her shoulders to steady him. 

"You need to get some rest," she scolded him.

"I'll be fine."

"You're not planning on going out on the street like that again, are you?"

The disapproval was clear in Y/N's voice. Spider-Man was silent for a moment before repeating: "I'll be fine. The night is young, I'm sure there are plenty of people who need me."

"You can barely walk," she replied as she helped him get into his suit. "Please don't go out again. You'll end up even worse than you already are and as much as I've done a fantastic job healing you now I don't think I can help you if you show up with your guts hanging out. I'm not that good." 

Y/N spoke with humor in her voice to hide the fact that she was terrified of the idea of Spider-Man getting hurt on the street. She was afraid to show him how important he really was to her in case he thought it was strange. Over time they had shared several special moments that assured her that he liked her, but she didn't know exactly how much. She saw him as a friend, probably because he was the only person she had left, but maybe he just saw her as someone he could hang out with. She found it hard to believe that someone like him would be all that interested in someone like her.

However, seeing that he didn't seem to want to change his mind she had to put aside her fear of being exposed and vulnerable. She had to somehow convince him to stay and rest for his sake and hers.

"Wait!" she said, taking him by the hand to prevent him from escaping through the window. "Please don't do this. I'll sleep a lot better knowing you're safe. Maybe this time Spider-Man can go home early."

Peter's eyes flicked over their joined hands, admiring them silently for a few seconds before he looked up to meet Y/N's face. She looked worried, the fear in her eyes almost enough to convince him not to leave. Almost.

The problem was that he couldn't go back to his house. It would be impossible for him to sleep and he would end up staying up all night, tossing and turning as he wailed in the dark. He simply couldn't be alone, he couldn't stand it. He had to do something to distract himself, otherwise he would end up losing whatever little sanity he had left.

"I can't go back home," he muttered without even thinking about what he was saying, his voice cracking. "I don't want to be alone." 

Hearing that confession broke Y/N's heart into a thousand pieces. Spider-Man sounded so devastated, she found it hard to believe it was him. In the time they had known each other, he had always appeared as someone cheerful and fun who did nothing but make her laugh and give her words of encouragement when she needed them. As strange as it sounded, the superhero had become her rock, her support. She found it hard to believe that the same man who kept joking with her was capable of sounding so sad. 

Y/N shortened the distance that separated them by taking a couple of long steps. She took his face in her hands, placing a hand under his lowered chin to force him to look at her. She was only able to see her own face reflected in the eyes of the superhero's mask, but something told her that he had his gaze locked on her. She could feel it through the fabric barrier that separated them.

"You don't have to be alone," she told him in a soft tone. "I'm here. You can stay with me." 

"N-No, I don't want to bother you," he said, embarrassed as he realized what he had said.

"You're not bothering me," she assured him, interrupting him before he could continue. "I want you to stay with me. I want to help you like you helped me. Please." 

Peter wanted to reject her, to swallow his feelings and escape out the window before it was too late. But when he opened his mouth to speak, no sound came out. Y/N was looking at him with pleading eyes and he simply couldn't refuse her. He was tired and hurting, and her presence was the only thing that seemed to help him when he was in that state. So he nodded his head and let himself be guided to the bed by her, where they sat side by side 

"Do you want to talk about it?" asked the young woman, a bit unsure. She wanted to help him, but she didn't want to pressure him into doing something he didn't want to do. She was more than willing to spend the whole night hugging him if that was what he preferred, but she thought she would give him the option to talk to her first.

"It's complicated."

"Sometimes it's better to talk about our problems. Putting into words what bothers us helps to understand it, to free us from some of the burden on our backs," she encouraged him to open up, placing a hand over his in support. "I promise I won't judge you. I'll just listen to you if that's what you prefer. Maybe that will help you feel better." 

"There's nothing that can make me feel better," he said, looking down at his hands. "It's a particularly difficult time for me... i-it's... it's the anniversary of the death of someone very close to me... s-someone I loved very much." 

"Oh," said the young woman, not knowing how to react. For some reason that was not what she expected to hear him say. She didn't know exactly what she expected him to say, but those words took her by surprise. "I'm so sorry for your loss," she added, giving his hand a light squeeze.

"Yeah, I'm sorry too," he mumbled more to himself than for her to hear. "You know what the worst part of it all is? That it's my fault... I couldn't save her."

"Oh, I'm sure you did everything you could...."

"It wasn't enough!" he exclaimed, raising the tone of his voice. Y/N would have been startled by the sudden change if it weren't for the sheer pain she could hear in his words. "I didn't get to her in time... I couldn't save her."

Spider-Man's voice sounded broken, and Y/N didn't need to look into his eyes to know he was struggling to hold back tears. She could sense it in his posture, in the bitterness in his voice. It broke her heart to see him like this, but she didn't know what to do to make him feel better. She was very good at listening to other people's problems, being the shoulder everyone cried on, but not so good at comforting sad people. Let alone in such extreme situations. She couldn't even begin to imagine the pain he was going through. Nothing she could say to him could fill the emptiness in his chest. There were no words to comfort such sadness. So instead of talking she decided to show her support in a physical way.

She approached him quietly and put her arms around him with a bit of shyness. It took Peter a few seconds to react. He held his arms firmly on either side of his body, posture rigid as stone, while his brain processed the situation. He finally gave in to her embrace, melting into the warmth of her body. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close against his body. She stroked his back in reassurance, her fingers tracing imaginary figures on the fabric of his suit. And it was that simple gesture that pushed him over the edge. 

Peter broke down, hiding in her arms. The emotions he had repressed for so long finally coming to the surface in the form of sobs. He hid his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent as he cried, letting her closeness comfort him. 

She hugged him tighter, trusting that he did not find her actions strange. She whispered words of reassurance in his ear, prompting him to cry into her shoulder, assuring him that it would help him feel better. She continued the caresses on his back, moving up his spine, past his neck until she reached his suit-covered head. She let her fingers trace the lines of the mask before moving back down to his back. She repeated that action until she felt his sobs stopped and his breathing normalized. 

"How about I make us some tea, huh?" she asked him without separating from his body. "I have this tea that's supposed to help you relax. I always drink it when I'm stressed and it helps calm my nerves. Then we can keep talking or do something completely different, it's your choice."

"Tea sounds good," he replied, emerging from his hiding place on her shoulder. "Thank you," he added, embarrassed. He hadn't meant to lose control like that. The situation had gotten the better of him. He was so tired of repressing his emotions, of suffering alone and in silence, that when Y/N hugged him he found it impossible to contain himself. With that simple gesture she was able to tear down the walls he had carefully built around his heart. 

"Well," she said, taking him by the face and wiping away the couple of tears that had rolled down his cheeks beyond the part covered by the mask. "I'm going to make the tea. You can go to the bathroom to wash your face or wait here, okay? I'll be right back."

Y/N gave him a smile before disappearing behind the door. Peter stood staring blankly at the wood, his mind overwhelmed by the mix of emotions that haunted him. When he summoned the strength to get up he headed for the bathroom. He locked the door to make sure no one entered before removing his mask, and looking in the mirror he saw that his eyes were red and swollen from crying. He could still feel the path the tears had made as they fell down the skin of his cheeks. Letting out a sigh he took off his gloves and turned on the faucet, bending down to splash water on his face. 

He let the water run for a few seconds as he contemplated what he was doing. He felt sad and somewhat pathetic, but at the same time relieved. He had repressed his feelings for so long that he forgot how good it felt to let them out, to share his pain with someone else. It was as if some of the weight he felt had been ejected from his system through his tears. He felt lighter, calmer, although deep inside he could still sense the pain and guilt that always accompanied him. He could never get rid of them, but at least they were pushed to the background, overshadowed by the support and companionship that Y/N had offered him.

In a better mood, Peter turned off the faucet and dried his face and hands. He adjusted his suit, leaving his mask pulled up over the bridge of his nose, before leaving the bathroom. When he returned to the room he found that Y/N was already there. She had propped a tray with the tea cups on the bedside table and sat on the bed waiting for him. She gave him a smile when she saw him enter and motioned for him to sit down next to her.

"Do you want to talk about it some more?" she asked in a soft tone, handing him a cup of steaming tea. Peter was silent for a moment, contemplating his answer.

"No," he finally said, shaking his head, "I want to forget about it for at least five minutes."

"Are you sure? Because I can listen to you talk for as long as you need." 

Y/N wanted to make sure he wasn't saying that out of embarrassment or fear of making her uncomfortable. She was willing to stay up all night by his side if he asked her to. She would do anything for him, to help him feel better and give him back that cheerful, positive personality he always had when they were together. She wanted more than anything in the world to be able to erase the pain and guilt from him. If she could she would trade places with him in a heartbeat if it meant he could rest for a while. 

However, when the superhero nodded indicating that he didn't want to talk about it any further, she didn't press him. She was worried about him, but she didn't want to make him uncomfortable. So instead, she offered to do something else to distract him. The first thing that came to her mind was to watch a movie because that was exactly what she did when she felt bad. 

"What do you want to watch?" she asked, grabbing the TV remote from the nightstand. "What's the Spider-Man comfort movie?"

"Whatever you want to watch is fine," he replied with a tired smile.

After thinking for a while she decided to put on a couple of episodes of a show that was on the list of titles she used for moments like that. It was simple and entertaining, so it always did a great job of distracting her and making her feel better. She just hoped it would have the same effect on her friend.

By the middle of the first episode they had both finished their cups of tea. Y/N took the empty ceramic pots and placed them on the tray where she had carried them before settling down on the bed. She leaned back on the pillows, making sure she had a good angle to watch TV. Then she motioned for Spider-Man to join her. 

"Doesn't it bother you that I'm lying in your bed with my suit all dirty and bloody?"

If it were anyone else in any other circumstance she would have said yes. Normally it wouldn't even have occurred her to let someone sit on her clean sheets if they were half as dirty as he was. But Spidey was different. He was her friend, the one who had helped her in a time of need. He was the man occupying her thoughts at all times since she had met him. She couldn't deny him anything. 

"I can change the sheets tomorrow," she shrugged in response. "Now come here."

Peter couldn't say no. He settled down beside her, letting her arms wrap around him in a warm embrace. He relaxed under her touch, reveling in her company and the closeness of their bodies. His chest still ached, the guilt clinging inside him refusing to leave him. But despite everything, it was the first time in a long time that he didn't feel alone. 

Y/N was happy to hear him let out a muffled laugh. The sound traveled through her ears and lanced into the center of her heart, quickening her pulse and awakening a familiar tingle in her stomach, the one that always coursed through her body when she heard him laugh. She felt good knowing that she had managed to distract him from the pain that haunted him at least for a little while. After hearing him cry his laughter was music to her ears, the most perfect melody she never wanted to stop listening to. 

However, by the fifth episode of the series, he stopped making sounds. Her first reaction was to panic, thinking he had fallen victim to the negative voices in his head once again. But as she listened more carefully she realized that he was not focused on his pain, but had fallen asleep. Y/N smiled, completely forgetting the show playing on the television to admire the figure lying next to her.

Spider-Man's lips were half-open, exhaling puffs of air with each deep breath he took. Her fingers traveled to his cheek, caressing the soft skin of his face gently so as not to wake him. She brushed the fabric of the mask a couple of times, but held back the urge to move it out of her way. She wasn't going to betray him that way. If she ever saw his face, it would be because he had shown it to her.

Sure, she was dying to know the rest of his features or find out the color of his eyes, but in the end none of that mattered. She loved him even though she didn't know who he was under that suit because she didn't need to know his name to really know him. She knew the kind of person he was and that was more than enough.

Eventually, Y/N fell asleep next to him. The television was forgotten, reduced to mere background noise as she adjusted herself on the bed carefully so as not to wake him. She let his calm, deep breathing relax her, guiding her slowly into the arms of Morpheus.

When she awoke the next morning she couldn't help but be disappointed to notice that she was alone in bed. The open window and the first aid kit on the floor were the only evidence that Spider-Man had been there with her the night before.

A month.

A whole month had passed since the last time Y/N had seen Spider-Man. A month in which she had done nothing but worry about him. She waited for him when she got out of class, at the bus stop, or when she walked the streets of Queens. She had even slept with her bedroom window open, waiting in vain for him to appear in the middle of the night. However, the days passed and she still had no news of him.

The first few days of his absence she thought maybe he was busy. He was a superhero after all. Maybe a new supervillain had appeared or something. But seeing nothing in the news to support her theory she began to think that maybe that wasn't the reason for his sudden disappearance. Her mind continued to come up with increasingly improbable, but terrifying explanations. She felt helpless, frustrated that she couldn't do anything to find out the whereabouts of the superhero. She came to think that something terrible had happened to him and that no one had found out because no one knew who Spider-Man really was.

Though her worries proved to be in vain one morning when she read a news story that mentioned Spider-Man preventing a bank robbery. She let out a sigh of relief when she saw the superhero's picture in the article. He was alive after all. But then, why wasn't he communicating with her? Didn't he realize how worried she was? Didn't he think about how much she missed him?

The realization of the truth hit her with the force of a freight train. Spider-Man was just another person she had trusted who left her. And this was another instance where fate was proving to her that for some reason she was no good at maintaining close lasting bonds. Another moment in which life reminded her that she was destined to live in loneliness, suffering from passing relationships that she was not capable of sustaining. 

Y/N didn't know that Peter was frightened by how much he cared about her. She didn't know about the sense of peace he had felt waking up next to her that morning, with it being the first time in a long time that it wasn't his nightmares forcing him to open his eyes. She didn't know about the sheer terror he had of losing her or the guilt that haunted him for finding someone who gave him hope. She wasn't aware of any of that because instead of telling her Peter had decided to run away like a coward. And now she blamed herself, as she was so used to doing.

Peter told himself it was for her sake, that he was protecting her by walking away, saving her from the terrible fate his Uncle Ben and Gwen had met. He was lying to himself because it was easier than admitting that he was actually protecting himself. What he felt for Y/N frightened him and he would rather run away than face reality. The problem was that it was impossible to hide from his own emotions, but he was willing to try. 

He didn't stay away from her completely. Occasionally he would pass by her house and stare at the lights on in her window, wondering what she was doing. Other times he would wait for her at the bus stop, watching her from a distance to make sure she was safe. She was always looking for him, her eyes scanning the streets thoroughly, desperate to find a sign indicating that he was there. Peter had to fight every instinct inside him that told him to run to her, reminding himself that no matter how much it hurt, things were better this way. She would be safe and he...well, he would be happy knowing she was okay.

However, life was never that simple. Fate was never on his side. And just as expected, it had plans very different from his own. 

Y/N had left class later that night. The teacher had forced everyone to stay after hours to finish the lesson. And as if that hadn't been enough, on her way out she ran into some classmates from another class who delayed her even longer. By the time she managed to leave the building it was 11 PM. The streets, though not deserted, were quite empty and dark. She walked with her backpack close to her chest, keeping alert of her surroundings. 

It was only five blocks from where she studied to the bus stop and she walked them peacefully for most of the time. At least that was until she passed a group of men sitting on the sidewalk as they chatted. They were talking and laughing loudly and Y/N noticed from afar the multiple beer cans surrounding them. If she could have, she would have crossed the street. But the bus stop was only a few feet away from the group of men. 

She thought it would be fine, that they would go about their business while she waited in the street for her ride. She thought maybe she was being paranoid as she walked past them, staring into the horizon, trying hard not to make eye contact. Her body tensed and she held her breath without even realizing it, subconsciously looking for any mechanism that would allow her to go unnoticed. 

She could feel their gazes on her back, but she tried to ignore them. The avid conversation they were having was interrupted and Y/N was unable to hear more than incomprehensible mumbling over the rapid beating of her heart, the sound echoing in her ears loudly.

For a brief moment she thought she was safe. She let out a sigh of relief as she noticed that only a couple of steps separated her from the bus stop. In the distance she could make out the figure of the vehicle, stopped a block away by the traffic light at the corner. She was one step away from complete safety.

But then she heard a whistle coming from behind her. Closing her eyes she cursed to herself and picked up her pace. She ignored the strangers' calls despite their insistence and was ready to run out of there when she felt a hand closing over her wrist.

"Are you deaf, doll?" asked one of the men, tugging on her arm to force her to turn around.

Y/N froze, her mind blank and her heart beating a mile a minute against her chest. The three men surrounded her, blocking all possible exits. They continued to talk, but she was unable to hear anything. Their voices sounded distant, muffled. All she could think about was that she was in danger, but her body did not respond to the commands of her mind, which was screaming at her to run away from there. 

"Let me go," she managed to say in a whisper.

"Oh, come on, doll, you don't have to be like that. We're just talking," exclaimed the man to her right, the alcohol in his breath assaulting her nostrils. 

"Let me go," she repeated louder this time. She tugged on her arm to break free of the stranger's grip, but he only increased the pressure, making her yelp in pain. 

Y/N panicked, her breathing became faster and faster. She tried to break free once more but it was unsuccessful. The men were still talking, she could see them moving their lips but couldn't hear anything. Her mind was moving too fast to be able to process her own thoughts, much less the conversation they were having. The only thing she was able to process was the fear she felt. Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. 

Suddenly, an external noise was able to make its way into the bustle that was her mind, gaining her attention. It was the distinct sound of something traveling through the air, cutting through the rushing wind that was heading in the opposite direction. Then her arm was released. She heard a dry thud against the floor before she recognized a familiar voice.

“The lady said no!”

Looking up, Y/N was met with the figure of Spider-Man, who was making use of his webbing to incapacitate one of her attackers. The other two moved away from her to defend their friend from the superhero and she watched as he took them down one by one while her brain struggled to comprehend what was happening. She flinched at the sound of the blows, letting tears roll down her cheeks without realizing it.

"Oh my god, Y/N, are you okay?" she heard Spider-Man ask her in horror after dealing with her attackers.She didn't answer him. She didn't even look at him. Her eyes were fixed on the figures of her three attackers, now unconscious and tied up with the spider webs. 

"Please talk to me!" insisted Peter, grabbing her face to force her to look at him.

"I-I'm a-okay," she managed to say, her voice cracking. "They didn't do anything to me... y-you... you... you saved me."

The young woman burst into tears and Peter wrapped her in his arms, holding her close to his body as she had done with him in the past. She sobbed in his arms, her brain finally realizing the gravity of the situation. She was safe, but she might not have been. If Spider-Man hadn't arrived, who knows what would have happened to her.

They stood there, hugging in the middle of the street until she managed to control her crying. When she separated from his body he wiped away her tears with his thumbs while assuring her again and again that she was safe. He was partly doing this to soothe her and partly to soothe his own troubled mind. He offered her a ride home and she accepted before she realized what that entailed. 

Y/N clung to Spider-Man's body tightly as soon as her feet left the ground, hiding her face in his neck so she couldn't see how high up they were. The free-falling sensation of swinging over nothing was strange and unpleasant, but she had so much adrenaline coursing through her veins that she barely noticed it. She concentrated on the words of encouragement that Spider-Man whispered to her from time to time. His voice inspired confidence and reassurance, helping to calm her nerves. 

They reached her building in no time. The superhero helped her get her keys and rode up in the elevator with her. In any other circumstance she would have laughed at the image of Spider-Man standing next to her, leaning against the elevator wall as they waited to get to her floor. They were lucky that no neighbors interrupted their short trip, otherwise Y/N wasn't sure how she would explain the situation.

Once at her apartment he took her backpack and jacket, helping her slide it over her shoulders before hanging it on the coat rack in the entryway. He then guided her to the couch in the living room, inviting her to sit down.

"Are you all right?" he asked her for the thousandth time, the concern still clear in his voice.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," she assured him, clearing her throat to speak. "I'm just a little shaken up, that's all."

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. This is all my fault."

"You saved me," the young woman said, looking at him with confusion.

"But I should have been there to stop it from happening. I'm so sorry."

Y/N didn't blame him for what happened. There was no way he could have foreseen that she was going to be attacked. And it wasn't his duty to save her either. He was Spider-Man, but at the end of the day he was just a man with a suit and powers similar to spiders' abilities. He couldn't be looking out for the needs of an entire city. It was impossible, even with his abilities. However, she took advantage of the situation to get answers about his sudden disappearance.

"Why was that?" she asked a bit shyly, hoping it didn't sound like a complaint. "Why weren't you there with me like you used to?"

Peter stopped pacing nervously around the room to look at Y/N for a moment. He wanted to lie, to make up some story about a top-secret issue that Spider-Man was taking care of. But as he looked into her eyes and noticed the pain and confusion in them he was unable to do anything but let out a long sigh. He couldn't lie. Not to her.

"I thought it was for the best... I thought I was protecting you."

"Protecting me from what?"

"From me," he blurted out, struggling to keep his voice steady. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I care about you Y/N. A lot. And the last time I felt this way about someone I had to watch them die. That's why I walked away, to protect you. But in the end you ended up in danger anyway, so I don't know what to do."

Spider-Man dropped onto the couch, visibly frustrated. Y/N leaned towards him, admiring his figure as she processed the meaning behind his words. He didn't disappear because she did something wrong. He ran away because he cared for her, and that frightened him. Despite the sad nature of the conversation she couldn't help but feel a tingle spread throughout her body at such a revelation.

"I don't want you to protect me if that means I can't see you again." 

"She said the same thing and I was weak. I let her into my life and now she's gone," he replied with a bitter chuckle, remembering how Gwen wouldn’t listen to him. "I don't know what to do, Y/N. All I know is that staying here is dangerous and it scares me, but I can't bear the thought of walking out that door and never seeing you again."

Y/N could hear the doubt in his voice, a perfect reflection of the conflict within him. A battle between his brain and his heart that seemed to have no end. It crushed her soul to see him like this, haunted by the ghosts of his past. Even though he wasn't crying it was a sadder sight than the last time they had been in a similar situation. That night he had cried because of the pain he felt on the anniversary of the death of someone he loved. But now he was showing her how deep his wounds really were. And as much as she understood that the situation he had gone through was terribly tragic, she never had imagined that it had led him to pause his life in such a way.

"Then stay," she implored him, praying that his heart would win the battle against his mind. "I want you to stay. Please."

Peter knew the rational part of him had lost the war the moment Y/N opened her mouth. There was no way he could walk away from her when she was asking him to stay using that tone. His heart wouldn't let him. He was tired of living a miserable and lonely life. He wanted to be with her and his head would not be able to convince him otherwise.

"If we do this I want to share my whole life with you, not just the Spider-Man stuff," he finally spoke and he could see Y/N's face light up with joy. He brought his hands to his face and began to lift the mask up by his chin. He had barely gotten to uncover his lips when she suddenly stopped him. 

"Wait!" she exclaimed, alerting him. "Are you sure about this?"

Y/N didn't quite know why she stopped him. She supposed it was because she wanted to make sure he wasn't making a mistake. She had dreamed many times of that moment, finally seeing his full face. But as excited as she was about it, she also knew that his identity was a sensitive subject. She didn't want him to feel like he had to reveal who he was to her. She didn't want him to regret it. She needed to make sure he was one hundred percent okay with her seeing his face.

Spider-Man nodded, giving her a smile, the biggest she had seen him form on his face so far. Y/N mirrored him, happy to discover that he did in fact have dimples marked on his cheeks, one on each side of his big grin.

"Can I do it?" she asked him then. He immediately agreed, moving a little closer to her so that she could resume the task he had left incomplete. Y/N's hands traveled up to his face. One caressed his cheek while the other slowly removed the mask. Her heart was racing with every inch of skin she uncovered. When she reached the bridge of his nose, she lost her patience and used both hands to pull the rest of the fabric off. And just like that, the face of the anonymous superhero appeared in front of her eyes.

"Hello," he said in a shy voice. "I'm Peter Parker."

She remained silent, admiring every little detail in his features. He had the biggest, deepest brown eyes she had ever seen. They stood out because of the special sparkle she saw in them. A sparkle that immediately captivated her, making it impossible for her to look away. He was looking at her with puppy dog eyes and his smile looked even more adorable now that she saw it in conjunction with the rest of his features. His brown hair, long and messy from wearing the suit, begged her to bury her fingers in it.

"Hello, Peter Parker," she whispered, testing the way his name felt on her tongue.

Peter blushed, suddenly overwhelmed by the closeness. Y/N's fingers kept providing delicate caresses over his cheeks, slowly moving up to his temples and back down again. It was such an intimate touch that he couldn't help but lean over her hands, closing his eyes so he could enjoy the caress without thinking about the nerves eating him up inside. 

It was different being in front of her without the mask. He felt vulnerable, unprotected. The confidence and outgoing personality he exhibited wearing the Spider-Man suit was almost completely gone. He retreated into his awkward and weird personality, nervous under Y/N's observant gaze. He didn't feel judged, at least not in a bad way. But he wasn't used to seeing the level of admiration that Y/N's eyes showed when someone looked at him without the suit. Peter Parker was a nobody, someone people didn't look twice at. But now that she had him in front of her, mere inches away, she did nothing but focus her attention on him, admiring every little detail of his face. He was flattered, but nervous so he closed his eyes to hopefully keep his face from ending up red as a tomato.

Eventually he opened his eyes again and it was then that he realized how close their faces were. The tips of their noses were brushing against each other and he could feel Y/N's warm breath crashing against his skin. The girl's eyes lowered to his lips for a moment before returning to his gaze. It was a split second, but it was enough to spark courage in Peter, who used the new surge of confidence to close the little distance that separated them. 

It was a short kiss, barely a brush of lips. They were testing the waters, unsure of how to proceed, but curious to discover what it would feel like to meld in such an intimate way. Feeling confident, Peter captured Y/N's lower lip, molding his mouth to hers and sucking on her sweet taste. She let out a whimper of pleasure, relishing in the softness of his lips, the way they caressed hers so delicately, leaving her wanting for more.  

The electricity that coursed through their bodies at the touch and the feeling of euphoria that traveled through their veins even after they separated was all it took for them to understand that they were doing the right thing. They were meant to be together, it was impossible for them to deny it any longer. Y/N rested her forehead on Peter's, catching her breath. She took advantage of the closeness to look into his eyes, searching them for something that told her he felt the same warmth inside. She smiled as she saw them ignite with the flame of happiness.

"It's good to finally meet you."

[liz-allyn]

You, blooming violets and with a happy refrain are single-handedly keeping TASM fandom alive

Well, I suppose that’s a fair trade since I can’t keep my plants alive. yes we are heroes. your welcome for our service 😂

But also check out @privateanxieties, @venus616, @jadore-andor, @forever-rogue, @literaila, @lanadelreyscokewhor3, and I know there are other currently active TASM writers here but I can’t remember them without looking back thru my #lizzy recs. tag!

[iridescentparkers]

vanilla palm trees → overview

vanilla palm trees

summary ⇢ it’s been years, he should get over it, right? but, peter just can’t. he looks up, he sees her. he goes to bed, he dreams of her. he wakes up, he can smell her. he goes out one night and he sees…her. no, not gwen but his ticket to stop moping around on the anniversary of her death. what is meant to be one quick night of putting sadness on the back burner, is now a blossoming new love that feels all too perfect for peter. was this new woman in his life meant to be? or was this just another set of well dealt cards that would leave him walking away empty handed. all or nothing, right? ↝ college!au ↝ one night stand gone wrong trope

parings ⇢ tasm!peter parker x reader

warnings ⇢ very angsty, smut (18+),

a/n ⇢ if i see any shit about something im putting in this fic 1. you better hope i haven’t seen it yet because 2. i will block you. anyway, i have wanted to write this for about 2 months and never got to. hope you all enjoy!

“You went to Colombia?”

“I’m a senior there,” he comments looking in the direction of the small pennant flag he had hanging on his cork board. Her eyes widen.

“Oh my god.” she says, running her hand along her forehead.”

“What?” He laughed, throwing back a bit of the chilled drink.

“How old are you?”

“21.”

“Oh my god,” she chuckles even louder than before, throwing her face in the base of her palms.

“What?” he chuckles, each laugh breathy as he watches her from behind the counter top.

“I feel like such a cougar.” she stated, dropping her hands and looking up at him while her head was facing his kitchen floor.

“It can’t be that bad.” He says, taking another sip of his drink. “What about you?”

“27.”

“Pfft, that’s nothing,” he scoffs, lowering his eyelids and beer bottle from his lips.

“Nothing?”

“Nothing,” Peter states taking a final sip of his chilled drink.

“Alright fair enough,” Y/N remarked, shrugging her shoulders as she took a swig of her drink.

“You have your secrets and I have mine.”

⁺ ⋆˚ one

⁺ ⋆˚ two

⁺ ⋆˚ three

⁺ ⋆˚ four

⁺ ⋆˚ five

[nobody7102]

I Don't Hate You: Chapter 5

Pairing: tasm! Peter Parker (Andrew) x reader

Warnings: Alcohol consumption

A/N: Chapter 5 is out, I would have had it done sooner but I had to get a new computer. Please let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist for when new chapters come out.

Chapter 4 Chapter 6

Main Master-List

Series Master-List

________________________

Leading Y/N out the front door, he motioned for her to sit on the cement garden wall just outside of the door. “C’mon, sit” he helped her sit.

“Hey, hey!” Harry caught Peter’s attention. “We need to talk.”

Not paying attention to Harry, he made sure Y/N was stable. “I'm a little busy right now.”

“Can you just give me a second?” Harry pleaded, yet Peter still didn’t pay attention “It's off, okay?!” Harry yelled “The whole thing’s off.” he said quieter.

Peter furrowed his brow looking at Harry “What’re you talking about?”

Harry shook his head “She never wanted me.  She wanted Flash the whole time.”

Rolling his eyes, Peter groaned “Harry. Do you like the girl?” Harry nodded “And is she worth all this trouble?

Harry shrugged “Well, I thought she was.  But, you know, I-”

Peter rolled his eyes once again “Well she is or she isn’t.?” He asked not giving Harry time to answer “See, first of all, Flash is not half the man you are.” he placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder “Secondly, don’t let anyone ever make you feel like you don’t deserve what you want.” he shook Harry’s shoulder “Go for it!” He pushed him back towards the party.

Y/N begins to fall off the bench but Peter quickly catches her again. He stands her up and they walk over to a bench, a few feet away from the party. “C'mon. Here, sit down.” Peter helped Y/N sit, before taking the seat next to her. 

“You’re so patronizing.” Y/N shook her head.

Peter chuckled, “Leave it to you to use big words when you're wasted.” He placed a hand on her shoulder to stabilize her.

She tried to push him away from the bench “I don’t think so.” She stood up to try and walk but as she stood she sat back down.

Peter just watched slightly amused before Y/N turned to him “Why are you doing this?”

He furrowed his brow “I told you, you may have a concussion.”

Y/N scoffed, “You don't care if I never wake up.”

Peter gave a small grin “Sure, I do”

“Why?”

“Well” Peter thought for a moment “because then I'd have to start taking out girls who actually like me.”

Y/N chuckled “Like you could find one.”

He motioned to Y/N “See that, there?” he smiled “Who needs affection when I have blind hatred?”

She looks at him for a moment with a smile, reflecting on his words. Before she starts tilting over backward, just in time to be caught by Peter, again.

“Jesus.” he mumbled making sure Y/N was stable once again. “......why'd you let him get to you?”

She turned to him “Who?”

“Flash” 

At the mention of his name, Y/N grimace “I hate him.”

“Well, you’ve chosen the perfect revenge” Peter started “mainlining tequila.”

They both laugh. “Well, you know what they say…” Y/N hummed, leaning against Peter’s shoulder.

Peter shook his head “No. What do they say?” A few moments of silence followed before Peter looked down to see Y/N sleeping “No no no no!” he moved to hold her shoulders, slightly shaking them “Y/N!” he panicked “C’mon, wake up!” he shook her once more “Look at me! Listen to me, Y/N. Open your eyes!” He urged her, shaking her firmly a final time.

Y/N jumped at the sudden movement looking at Peter “Hey….” she hummed “Your eyes have Dark brown around the edge”

Peter sighed with relief and smiles at Y/N. She smiled back at him, as they kept their eye contact for a few moments before Y/N lurched forward vomiting at Peter’s feet. Letting out a sigh, Peter looked down at his shoes before shaking his head and rubbing Y/N’s back.

________________________________

Back in the house, Gwen stood with Liz looking around uncomfortably “I don’t know if we should go-” but before Gwen could finish, she was cut off by Flash, who wrapped his arms around their shoulders.

“Hey, a bunch of us are going to Eddie's house. Are you guys ready?”

Gwen looked at Flash nervously “Uh, I have to be home in twenty minutes.”

Liz smiled at Flash eagerly “You know, I don't have to be home 'til two. So…”

Flash smiled nodding to Liz before turning back to Gwen “One more chance…” he offered

“Oh, I’m sorry Flash… I can’t” she wrapped her arms around herself.

Liz shrugged “That’s a shame.” she turned to Flash “Well?”

He smiled “You wanna go?” Liz nodded, as they started to walk away Gwen grabbed Liz’s arm.

“Liz!”

“Hey, you passed.” she pulled her arm from Gwen’s grip

Gwen shook her head, watching as they left “Bitch…” she mumbled looking around at who was left in the party.

Walking out from a room of the house, Harry’s eyes were trained on the ground, only looking up occasionally, when he noticed Gwen “Hey… Have fun tonight?” he asked almost sarcastically.

“Tons,” Gwen answered back in the same tone. As Harry started to walk past Gwen, she stopped him “Harry?” he stopped turning back to her “Do you think you could give me a ride home?” she gave him a helpless smile.

He nodded, turning back around, his eyes wide mouthing ‘Yes!’ before he led Gwen to his car.

________________________________

Driving Y/N’s car, Peter shifted in the seat, readjusting his grip on the steering wheel as Y/N bobbed her head, listening to the radio.

“Should I do this?” Y/N hummed.

“Do what” Peter turned slightly to keep his eye on the road and on Y/N.

“This” she pointed to the radio.

“What? Start a band?”  he cocks his brow

“No, install car stereos.” Y/N deadpans “Yeah, start a band.” she chuckled, “My father would love that.”

Pulling up to the Stacy residence, Peter stopped the car, turning to Y/N “You don't strike me as the type that would ask your father’s permission.”

Now she turned to look at him “Oh, so now you think you know me?”

Peter shrugged “I'm gettin' there”

Y/N relaxes back into the seat a bit “The only thing people know about me is that I'm ‘scary’.” she scoffed.

“Yeah, well, I'm no picnic myself.” Peter hummed. They eye each other, sharing a moment of connection. “So what’s up with your dad? Is he a pain in the ass?”

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head “No… He just wants me to be someone I'm not.”

“Who?”

Y/N shrugged, motioning to the house “Gwen.”

Peter’s eyes widened “Ah... Gwen…” He shook his head “No offense or anything, I mean,I know everyone likes your sister. But, um…” he thought for a moment “She’s without.” he finally said.

Y/N stared at him for a moment with admiration. “You know, you're not as vile as I thought you were.” she smiled, slowly starting to lean towards him. 

Peter begins to lean in, and just as their lips are inches from each other, Peter pulls away “Maybe we should do this another time.” he sheepishly suggests.

Y/N stares at him, for a moment, her eyes slowly showing that she’s pissed. Before she shoved open the car door, getting out of the car, slamming the door shut and stomping off to the house.

Letting out a groan, Peter face planted onto the steering wheel before he placed the car keys into the glove compartment for Y/N to find the next morning, before he exited the car. Walking over to his car and leaving. 

Just as Peter peeled away from the curb, Harry pulled up to drop off Gwen. As soon as he stopped the car, the two sat for a moment in silence before Harry spoke up. “You never wanted to go sailing with me, did you?” he turned to Gwen.

She gave a soft smile with sad eyes “Yes I did.” she lied through her teeth

Harry tilted his head “No…You didn’t.”

She sighed “Well, okay. No… Not actually.”

Harry sighed “Well, then that's all you had to say….have you always been this selfish?”

Gwen opens her mouth to speak but quickly closes it to think for a moment “Yes…” she meekly ryles 

Harry scoffs “You know, just because you're beautiful, doesn't mean you can treat people like they don't matter. He started “I mean, I really like you. Okay? I defended you when people called you conceited. I helped you when you asked me to.” He shook his head “I learned French for you! And then you just blow me of-”

Before he could finish, Gwen grabbed his face and gave him a kiss on the lips. When she pulls away he’s stunned. She smiles, then gets out of the car without another word.

Harry watches as she leaves, looking as though he’s just been told he’s inherited his fathers business as she turns back to him, smiles, and walks away.

Turning back to look at the road, a smile crept onto his face happily freaking out, and beating up his poor steering wheel “I’m back in the game!” he yelled happily.

________________________________

The next Monday, as Y/N entered Mr. Dillon’s class people started clapping and cheering before Eddie Brock spoke up. “Y/N, my lady, you sway to the rhythm of the beat” he laughed.

          “So tell me Y/N” Flash started as Y/N took her seat “what do we owe you for the table dance?” he smirked before Mr. Dillon clapped his hands to get the class's attention.

“All right," He started "not that I care, but how was everybody’s weekend?” he hummed

Flashes smirk turned to an ear to ear smile “ I don’t know. Why don’t we ask Y/N how her weekend was.” he and a few other people in the class chuckled.

Mr. Dillon shook his head “Unless she kicked the crap out of your dumbass, I don’t wanna hear about it.” He walked over to his desk, picking up a book “Okay, let’s open up our books to page 73, sonnet 141.” he cleared his thought and started reading 

“ ‘In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes. For they and thee a thousand errors note. But ‘tis my heart loves what they despise, who in despite of view is pleas’d to dote’.” he closed the book looking up to the class.

“Now, I know Shakespeare’s a dead white guy, but he knows his shit, so we can overlook that…. Now I want you all to write your own version of this Sonnet.”

A few groans came from all around the class before Y/N raised her hand. Mr. Dillon looked at her, unpleased, ready for whatever Y/N was about to protest. “Yes, Miss I-have-an-opinion-about-everything?”

“Do you want this in iambic pentameter?” she quickly asked

He raised his brow “You’re not going to fight me on this?”

Y/N shook her head “No. I think it’s a really good assignment.”

Dillon laughed “You’re just messing with me, aren’t you?” Y/N shook her head “Get out of my class.”

Y/N’s eyes widened “What?!”

“Out. Get out!” he pointed at the door

Slowly starting to grab her stuff she made her way to the door annoyed.

“Thanks Mr. Dillon” Flash started

“Shut up.” Dillon turned around, going back to his lesson.

________________________________

As the hallways filled with people passing from class to class, Mary Jane stood at her looker, looking over the playbills of Shakespeare shows, adorned with a small photo of the Bard himself.

“Hey. That’s a cool picture.” Ned came up behind her “What’s the collar for? Is it to keep him from licking his stitches?” He joked but stopped noticing her lack of amusement “Kidding.” He quickly added “No, because I know you’re a fan of Shakespeare.”

Mary Jane raised her brow at him “More than a fan… We’re involved.”

“Oh” Ned’s eyes widened, as soon as he noticed Mary Jane start to walk away, he started talking again “ ‘Who could refrain that had a heart to love and in that heart-“

“-courage to make love known?” Mary Jane finished giving Ned a small smile.

“Macbeth, right?” Ned smiled back as Mary Jane nodded.

Ned extended his arm to Mary Jane to escort her “So, listen... I have this friend…” he started.

________________________________

Sitting up in the bleachers, watching the soccer field, seeing as the gym class was held outside today for their soccer unit, Peter and Harry lounged watching the class. 

“What'd you do to her?” Harry questioned

Peter raised his hands in defense “I didn’t do anything…. Would’ve been too drunk to remember.” he mumbled the last part.

Harry whined “But the plan was working.”

Peter turned to face Harry “Why do you care? I thought you wanted out.”

A blush came across Harry’s face “Yeah, well I did, but….umm” he paused, almost embarrassed “...uh, that was until she kissed me.”

Peter grinned “Where?”

“In the car.” Harry smiled

“Hey!” Ned called out jogging up to them from across the jogging track.  As he crossed it, he nearly ran into two joggers. “Sorry.” he called out behind him before he sat with Harry and Peter. “Alright. I talked to her.” he paused, catching his breath “I got the scoop… ‘Hates him with the fire of a thousand suns’ that's a direct quote.” He nodded

“Thanks, Ned.” Peter groaned “That’s very comforting of you.”

Harry shrugged “We don’t know… She could just need a day to cool off.” As Harry spoke a soccer ball flew past them from the field, narrowly missing their heads. Looking at the ball for a few minutes, they looked to the field noticing Y/N stands menacingly glaring at them. “Maybe two days.” Harry added.

________________________________

As Y/N and Mary Jane walk, Y/N saw a prom flier and tore it down as the girl who just hung it watched. “Hey!” she yelled after them.

Waving her off, Y/N and Mary Jane continued walking “Can you imagine who would go to that antiquated mating ritual?”

“I would” Mary Jane raised her hand “But I don’t have a date”

Y/N raised her eyebrow, turning to her friend “Do you really want to get all dressed up so some sleazy nerd with a boner can feel you up while you’re forced to listen to a band that by definition sucks ass?”

          Mary Jane shook her head, slightly annoyed “Alright, alright. We won't go… it's not like I’ve got a dress anyway.” She hugged her head.

“You’re looking at this entirely wrong” Y/N started “We're making a statement.”

“Oh joy” Mary Jane said sarcastically walking to their cars.

As the parking lot fills with people Gwen walks by herself, until Flash comes up behind her. “Hey there”

Gwen keeps her eyes forwards and continues walking “Hi, Flash”

“You're concentrating awfully hard considering you’re walking to Liz’s car”

Gwen eventually stops walking and turns to him “Can I help you with something Flash?”

He nodded, “I want to talk to you about prom.”

Gwen sighed “Look, you know the deal. I can't go if Y/N doesn't go.”

He nodded “I know. Your sister is going.”

Gwen looked at him surprised. “Since when?”

“Oh, let’s just say I'm taking care of it.” he smirked walking away from her to the other side of the parking lot, digging two $100 bills out of his wallet. Extending them out to Peter as he approached his car.

“Here.” he shoved the money towards Peter, who didn’t take the money. “This should take care of the flowers, the limo, the tux, everything. Just make sure she gets to the prom.”

Peter, who was leaning against his car, fully stood up crossing his arms “You know what? I’m sick of playing your little game.”

Flash reaches into his pocket again and looks around. “Are you sick of, let’s say, 300?” Flash cocked his brow

Peter takes a moment glancing between the money and Flash looking a bit tortured, but eventually takes the money.

________________________________

It takes a few days for Peter to find himself alone with Y/N but eventually he finds himself sitting in his car with a bag of takeout when he notices Y/N enter a bookstore. He looks between the food and the store before groaning. Exiting his car, he walks into the bookstore and scans around for Y/N before slowly following her from the next row of books to the next, watching as she looks over the books with such concentration. When they reach the end of the aisle, he questions her.

“Excuse me, have you seen The Feminine Mystique? I seem to have lost my copy.” his smile is only met with an unpleasant look from Y/N.

“What are you doing here?” She asks unpleased

He motions behind him “I heard there was a poetry reading.”

She groans “You're so-”

“Charming?” He cuts her off, she turns and begins to walk away as he continues to pursue her. “Wholesome?”

She eventually turns to him “Unwelcome.” venom dripped from her tone.

He raises his brow to her “You know… you’re not as mean as you think you are, you know that?” he crossed his arms

“And you’re not as badass as you think you are.” she turns away from him.

“Ooo” he smirked, “someone still has their panties in a twist.”

Y/N whipped back around pointing at him “Don't for one minute think that you had any effect whatsoever on my panties.” 

          Peter leaned against a bookshelf “Then what did I have an effect on?” 

Y/N thought about it for a moment “Other than my gag reflex? Nothing.” She headed for the door, handing him a copy of The Feminine Mystique as she left.

________________________________

The next day, Peter butted in between Ned and Harry in the lunch line. “You’re right. She's still pissed.”

“Sweet love, renew thy force!” Ned hummed causing Peter to slap his shoulder 

“Hey, man!  Don't say shit like that to me. People can hear you.”

Harry placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder “Look. You embarrassed the girl. Sacrifice yourself on the altar of dignity and even the score.”

Peter scowled “How the fuck am I supposed to do that?”

Ned smiled “Gentlemen I have an idea”

A few hours later, during Gym class which was outside once again. Peter and Harry sat close to the announcers booth as Ned was inside talking with some kid. Coming out after a few minutes Ned handed a microphone to Peter “You’ve got 3 maybe 4 minutes tops”

Peter eyed the microphone “Are you sure this is gonna work?”

Ned and Harry nodded. Peter sighed moving to the top of the bleachers, standing next to the door of the booth, before nodding to the guy who stood in the booth, and soon a smooth tune of a piano began to play over the speakers of the soccer field.

As soon as the tambourine from the backtrack kicked in he began to sing. “Ooh…” he paused, questioning his life choices before continuing “Sugar pie, honey bunch” he poked his head out from around the booth, to see that everyone was looking up at him. 

Figuring he had nothing else to lose, he fully stepped out from the side of the booth, his eyes searched for Y/N’s form on the field, before he pointed to her “You know that I love you” he smiled watching as Y/N looked around, noticing that everyone was now looking at her. “I can't help myself, I love you and nobody else” he hummed. Making his way down into the bleachers.

“In and out my life, You come and you go” he threw his free hand, that wasn’t holding the microphone out, into the air before bringing it to his chest covering his heart “Leaving just your picture behind” he hand down onto his knees dramatically “And I kissed it a thousand times”

“When you snap your finger or wink your eye, I come running to you” he moved to the side of the bleachers that was closer to where Y/N was on the field, keeping eye contact with her. “I’m tied to your apron strings, and there’s nothing that I can do” he watched as Y/N began to smile, even though her arms were crossed, a hand came up to cover one of her blushing cheeks.

He walked down a few more bleachers “Can’t help myself. No I can’t help myself” as he finished the line, he noticed the school's resource officers begin to climb the bleachers, heading towards him. Moving to the far side of the bleachers, climbing back up a few of them he continued “ ‘Cause sugar pie, honey bunch. I’m weaker than a man should be” his voice strained as he ran, earning a few laughs from people on the field. 

Dodging an officer that came close to him, he jumped up a few more bleachers “I can’t help myself” he watched as Y/N laughed, smiling at his little routine “I’m a fool in love, you see” 

Just as Peter was about to start the next verse the officers came at him from both sides. Grabbing his arms the ripped the mic from his hands, as Peter grinned widely, as everyone clapped he was escorted off the field.

______________________________

Taglist: @albeeox @evermoregarden @prfctplcs @jedisstark @yutasflower

Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist :)

[oceancomet]

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🌑 smut | 🔮 personal favourite

|Peter Parker (including tasm)

No Need to Whine, Boy (tasm)

Summary: Pete gets terribly turned on from the mere act of eating you out, and cums before you can play with him. 🌑

Wanna Be Adored (tasm)

Summary: Poor y/n can’t help but get a little needy while tending to Pete’s wounds, and he soon has her rutting against his thigh.🌑🔮

Sweet Girl of Mine (tasm)

Summary: “That’s it. That’s my girl” 🌑🔮

Terrible thing(tasm)

Summary: All you had to do was be good, but being good didn’t get you fucked from behind in a bathroom stall while your lover whispers dirty threats in your ear, now did it?🌑

Spider-Woman (tasm)

Summary: Peter finds out your secret identity, and enjoys it a little more than you would’ve thought. 🌑🔮

Peter’s Angel (tasm)

Summary: Peter Parker decides one evening that he needs to take his friend’s virginity. 🌑

Academic Misgivings

Summary: You and Peter Parker aren’t friends, but you’re not entirely enemy either. You don’t like him but he always tries to be nice to you. He has everything you’ve ever wanted and you’ll do anything to show him that you can make it on your own.But can you?

|Bucky Barnes

Coffee. Emergency. Thighs.

Summary: You told Bucky that the only time he's allowed to wake you up is under three conditions: He has coffee. It's an emergency. Or his head is between your thighs. 🌑🔮

Roadside Assistance

Summary: After your car gives out on the highway, you call your mechanic, Bucky, to come help you out, but he helps you out in more ways than one if you're picking up what I'm puttin' down.🌑

Between Your Legs

Summary: Making your very shy boyfriend admit his kinks turns into an unexpected series of events.🌑

Late night Frustrations

Summary: Your night is ruined by lack of batteries, but your roommate Bucky is there to help. 🌑

At the Club

Summary: Bucky has you ride yourself on his thigh at the club🌑

Knife Kink

Summary: Kinfe kink with Bucky 🌑🔮

Worth the Wait

Summary: “If you want to come you better beg.” “Be a good girl and spread your legs.” “Did you touch yourself while I was gone?” 🌑

Your Bucky

Summary: Sam drags you out on a night out with Steve, and you’re surprised to find Bucky there. After a few too many tequila shots, you find yourself on the dance floor, wrapped in Bucky’s embrace, begging him to take you home.🌑

Two Servings

Summary: Bucky enjoys two servings of his delicious breakfast... you.🌑

You’re My Heaven

Summary: The only heaven I’ll be sent to is when I’m alone with you. 🌑

Lessons In Knife Play

Summary: Bucky has a knife kink and by the time he’s done with you, you’ll have one too. 🌑

Mean It

Summary: You and Bucky get trapped overnight in the safe house after a mission. Everything should be okay, except he's your ex and thanks to his carelessness, the situation gets a little more complicated🌑

Long Week

Summary: You have a terribly long week at work so Bucky helps you relax🌑

Birthday

Summary: Bucky doesn’t want you lifting a finger on your special day 🌑🔮

Angel

Summary: Bucky makes you breakfast, but he gets to eat something else. 🌑

Laundry Day

Summary: Y/N needs help carrying her laundry down to the laundry room and Bucky steps in to save the day. But he also has a load of his own. 🌑

That Black Tee

Summary: It was such a simple thing. Just a simple black tee-shirt. But the way Bucky wore it had you practically melting -- and he seemed to realize it, happily granting your needs.🌑

Teddy Bear

Summary: Soulmate!au in which when one soulmate loses something, their other half finds it. 🔮

|Wanda Maximoff

|Natasha Romanoff

Good Girl

Summary: Nat comes home from a long mission. 🌑

|Loki

Birthday Tricks

Summary: Teasing the God Of Mischief is all fun and games until he decides to make you suffer the consequences.🌑

Sweet Dreams

Summary: “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.”  “Apparently there’s a bet going about when we’ll end up together.”  “Hold my drink, I’m gonna go cause a scene.”🌑

|Yelena Belova

|Matt Murdock

Audiometry

Summary: You want to test Matt’s hearing and it becomes something of a game between the two of you. 🔮

Pussy Drunk Matt

Summary: Matt gets drunk off your pussy. 🌑🔮

Mad More

Summary: Matt did a stupid thing to keep you out of harm's way, so you let your anger and frustration out on him, more than one way.🌑

Insatiable

Summary: All of Matt’s attention has been on work, and you’re growing tired of it. Thigh riding fic. 🌑🔮

Devil’s Horn(y)

Summary: Your Halloween costume makes Matt feel certain things. 🌑

Listening In

Summary: The four times Matthew listened to your heart, and the first time he listened to his own.

Perfume

Summary: You are Mr Murdock's pretty, young, naive secretary 🌑

Mimicry

Summary: You, Matt, Foggy, and Karen play Description Charades. The evening gets competitive, especially when you have to act out a certain someone of Hell’s Kitchen.🔮

Josie’s

Summary: You realize this place may mean a lot to you and matt.

Roof

Summary: Matt takes you up to the roof of a taller building (in the black suit bc his ass looks fine in it) and basically goes feral and tells you “be as loud as you want Baby, no one down there can hear you all the way up here” 🌑

Spitfire

Summary: Matt's girl is a spitfire, but she's also a sensitive little thing that can easily get her feelings hurt. good thing matt always knows how to make it all better 🌑

Devilish

Summary: You spent a bit more money than you probably should have on some particular scraps of lace that really have no reason being that expensive, but it’s worth every cent when you get to ‘show’ it off.🌑

Wake Up Call

Summary: You work for Nelson and Murdock as an intern, and you volunteer to drive Matt to an important meeting a few states over. 🌑🔮

Expense Report

Summary: You’re frustrated. Matt is too - but for different reasons. Sooner or later, it all gets a bit too much, and that tension needs to be released some way.🌑

Zip and Rewind

Summary: It's late. You need Matt, but he has work to do. Not that you can't be a good girlfriend and keep him company until it's all over.🌑

The Red Thread

Summary: It's said that every soul is connected to another by a red thread, and that these two souls are destined to meet. The thread, though it may tangle or stretch, will never break. That's not your experience, lucky or unlucky enough as you are to see the strings that bind people together. A red thread is developed and grown, not born, and you've worked hard to weed out any semblance of crimson that might cling to you. You pay your bills, you keep your head down, and you find whatever lost people or items you're hired to sniff out. (P.S. if you’re a Matt girl, and you aren’t reading this Fic, you HAVE TO)

|Frank Castle

|The Moon Boys

Bloody Hands

Summary: It has been a while since Harrow mysteriously ‘disappeared’ yet one of his followers is still loyal to him. The follower in question comes after you, suspecting you know where the man is. When Jake Lockley finds out about the incident, he makes sure to reunite the follower with Harrow.

The Giver and the Taker

Summary: One of your lovers is a complete giver, the other is a huge taker🌑

A Long Night

Summary: It wasn’t often that you saw all three of them in one night.🌑

Over The Moon

Summary: Steven takes you out, Marc continues to be in denial about his feelings.

|Druig

That’s My Angle

Summary: Druig LOVES eating pussy and gets messy as hell with it.🌑

[belle46p]

I think you'd like this story: "Reader Inserts " by Belle346u on Wattpad

You can request any characters from the shows or movies I do using my guidelines.

[skybluewritings]

Wishing for the past, Andrew garfield!peter parker x fem!reader part 6

Note: Hiya so after so long of not updating I finally decided to write the ending. Thank you so much to everyone who has been so supportive it means alot!

warnings: None

word count: 1.5k

She dropped his hands. "I'm sorry I need to go."

His jaw clenched and he glanced away from her. She knew how hurt he was by her lack of answer, but she desperately needed time to think.

She stopped at the door way and looked back at him. "Peter?" He kept his stare away from her.

"I promise I'll give you an answer just let me think." She promised softly, he didn't bother to reply.

********************************************

She knew she loved Peter, really loved him. The intensity in his beautiful brown eyes, when he had assured her how unafraid he was to love her, had almost fooled her. She had been close to throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him. She wanted to believe Peter, but she also equally wanted to protect herself.

If she left Michael would she ever find someone else that could comit to her like that? Maybe she could eventually grow to love Michael that much? Staying with him was safe.

"Jesus." She sharply whispered to herself, burrying her head in her hands.

The elevator dinged, coming to a stop. The closer she got to her apartment the sicker she felt. She was the world's worst fiance.

As she opened the front door she saw Michael and their friend Jeanette settled by the kitchen island. Her heart sunk, Jeanette was a wedding planner. They'd only gotten engaged the day before and the planning had already begun.

"Hey Jeanette." She greeted, forcing herself to smile.

"Hello miss bride to be." Jeanette squealed.

"Actually it'll be Mrs soon." Michael smugly commented, she had to fight the urge to recoil. Had he always be this cringey?

She stiffened when Michael kissed her on the cheek. "Babe look what Jeanette bought over." He said gesturing to the thick white binder on the counter top.

"I was showing Michael here previous weddings I've done! So you can both get an idea of what you might want." Jeanette excitedly explained, flicking through the folder.

"That's lovely." (Name) agreed.

"I'm thinking we have like a destination wedding." Michael offered.

"Won't that be expensive for people to travel to?.." She asked.

"Who cares that's their problem." He snorted.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Michael that's actually quite a selfish thing to say."

Jeanette clearly sensing the tension cleared her throat. "I think I've shown enough for today, I'll come back some other time." She excused before grabbing her folder and scurrying out the apartment.

"Why do you always have to be so fucking prickly about everything?! Even our friends notice it!" Michael snapped pointing to the slamming door.

"I'm not being prickly." She snapped back. "You just constantly act like a child and expect no one to say anything."

Michael folded his arms. "At least I still know how to have a good time. You were so much more fun when we first met."

"Probably because I hadn't realised I'd have to be the adult in our relationship." She said with a humourless laugh.

These sort of arguments happened every few months with them. Michael would do something embarrassing and she would be left picking up the pieces.

"You're not my mother, you're my fiance so act like it." Michael commanded.

"I'm not even sure I want to be your fiancé!" She shouted.

"What?!" He sharply asked. "We've been engaged for less than 48 hours, so much for a long engagement."

She threw her hands up in frustration. "How would it have been long if you were already planning the wedding the day after getting engaged? Not to mention not even bothering to ask me what I might want for the wedding?"

Michael deadpanned at her. "Because I'm the one with superior design taste, I mean I decorated this whole apartment."

"Which again I never asked you to do!"

He tugged at his hair. "Have you noticed how much we fight these days?"

She let out a sigh. "Yeah. We didn't used to be like this."

"When did the fighting start?"

"I can't even remember anymore."

"What went wrong?" He wondered.

"I'm not sure sometimes people grow apart." She sadly admitted.

He was quiet for a moment. "We were happy though at the start right?" He carefully asked her.

"Yes." She agreed giving him a wistful smile. "We were really good."

Michael and her looked to eachother the same thought present in both of their minds. They had come to a silent agreement.

******************************************

She charged up the endless stairs, her feet pounding against the steps. She was certain at that moment she was 90% sweat. She cursed his building for it's elevator being broken. Although it had given her extra time to think. Like what she was going to say exactly to him.

Everything was happening at a mile a minute. Just that morning she had been engaged, the promise of stability with someone who wouldn't leave her. But all it had taken was a few hours alone with Peter to change that. She'd already had slight doubts about her and Michael's relationship but after their a hundreth argument, it had all become clear. Maybe security wasn't worth it if she wasn't going to be happy. It was better to be happy with someone even if you didn't feel sure of the relationship's certainty.

She eventually arrived at the door and hurriedly knocked it. It gently opened to reveal Peter, he was dressed in comfortable clothing he'd clearly been lounging in, from the softness of the fabric and the messiness of his hair. Seeing him dressed so comfortable made her heart swell. His doe brown eyes widened upon seeing her.

He opened his mouth to speak but she raised a hand.

"I'm not trying to be rude but I really need to get everything out-" She panted. "Sorry I'm slightly out of breath, you live on the ninth floor and your elevator was broken."

"Ok here we go. I had some time to think and I realised something was missing with Michael. I was fufilled by my career and my friends and my family, but Michael wasn't fufilling me. You fulfill me. I like who I am when I'm with you, I never felt that way around Michael. Or really with anyone...And I don't care if we won't last, because I love you and that's enough. So I guess I'm all in, if you are too?"

Peter blinked at her in bewilderment.

"I don't want to be with anyone else I only want to be with you. It's always been you." She continued.

His chest heaved as he continued to stare at her.

Her face fell. "I get it if me trying to choose between you and Michael made you not want me. Now I feel like an idiot. I just stood here confessing my love to you and you don't want-"

"Shut up." He said grabbing her face and firmly pressing his lips to hers. She kissed him back after the intial shock.

When they finally pulled apart, she couldn't help but gawk at him. "Why didn't you say anything do you know how embarrassing that was for me?" She stammered.

He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. " I was just taking it in. When the girl you've spent four years thinking about turns up on your doorstep and says everything you've ever dreamed she would say to you it's hard to not be in shock."

A warm smile broke out on her face. "You could have atleast gave me some kind of response!" She tutted playfully rolling her eyes

He snorted. "Well I kissed you didn't I?"

"Yeah, I guess." She agreed. "Just don't leave a girl in the dark like that."

"I forgot how sexy you are when your mad."

"That is so patronising." She groaned.

"Sorry sorry, but doesn't mean it's not true." He said coyly.

She felt her face grow hot, which was ridiculous that he could still have that affect on her.

"I'm so glad your back in my life." She told him with a warm smile, which he returned. "I don't think I realised how lonely I had been until I saw you in my office. Don't ever leave me again ok?"

"I won't, I'm not going anywhere. I want us to last, I'm never leaving you again. I'm not afraid of this anymore." He said, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"You promise?" She asked.

"I promise." He swore, pressing his forehead to hers. And this time she knew he meant it.

𝕽𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖉 𝕻𝖑𝖆𝖞𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙:

Godspeed: Frank Ocean

Sunsetz: Cigarettes after sex

Baby come home 2/Valentines: The neighbourhood

Champagne Problems: Taylor Swift

I miss you,i'm sorry: Gracie Abrahms

happier: Olivia Rodrigo

the one that got away: katy perry

feelings are fatal: mxmtoon

Sparks: Coldplay

never let me go: florence+the machine

Tagged:

@prettiestmark

@mell-bell

@lokisthvr

@mournthewicked

@navs-bhat

@44atta

@ssophiebirkas

[bi-bard]

Oh No, I'm Falling in Love - Peter Parker Imagine (The Amazing Spider-Man)

Title: Oh No, I'm Falling in Love

Pairing: Peter Parker X Reader

Based On: Labyrinth

Word Count: 2,109 words

Warning(s): mention of death, fear of commitment/relationship, grief

Summary: After losing Gwen, Peter expected to be on his own for a very long time. (Y/n) accidentally proves him very wrong.

Author's Note: We've had a good amount of not-so-happy imagines during this writing challenge... let's have one with a happy ending, shall we?

MIDNIGHTS - TAYLOR SWIFT WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST

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

Peter had decided that meeting (Y/n) felt more like a shock to the system than anything.

After everything that happened... After losing Gwen, he shut down for a while.

He pulled away from the remaining people around him. He constantly felt like there was this ball of anger in his stomach. He was more violent. Less controlled.

He was losing sight of why he had become Spider-Man in the first place.

In all honesty, he would never have reached out to (Y/n) on his own. He would've seen them in passing, maybe wondered about the person who seemed extra happy while waiting for their coffee that morning for a matter of minutes before dismissing them entirely. He would've stayed in his cloud that had so easily changed his perception of the world.

But (Y/n) seemed dedicated to keeping that from happening.

They had tried to contain their excitement. Let it sit with them until they could go and call a friend or a family member or something. But in the matter of minutes that it took for their coffee to be finished, their excitement had overwhelmed them. They needed to tell someone.

"Sorry," they turned to Peter, who was clearly exhausted and out of it. (Y/n) paid no mind to that. "I just need to say this to someone. I just got a promotion."

Peter blinked at them, overwhelmed by the person's cheeriness for a moment.

He finally muttered out a response, "Congratulations."

"Thanks," they replied, smile not dimming for a moment. They held out their hand for him to shake. "(Y/n)."

"Peter," he shook their hand and forced a grin. He assumed that this would be the only time that he'd see them.

"Nice to meet you, Peter."

Before he could respond with some kind of forced politeness, (Y/n)'s name was called from the counter. They waved to him and went to grab their drink.

Peter waved back. He wasn't quite sure why. He could've easily nodded or ignored it. But he didn't.

He shrugged the interaction off.

Until the next day... when (Y/n) was there again.

They waved at him as he walked over to wait for his drink. He nodded back and stood next to them, feeling like it would've been rude to try and avoid them now.

The pair made slightly awkward small talk for a few minutes before (Y/n)'s name was called. They left with a wave... that Peter found himself returning again.

The pattern continued for days. Weeks.

They would walk into the coffee shop around the same time, talk while waiting for one of their names to be called, and then part for the day.

(Y/n) would be lying if they acted like they didn't find Peter attractive. He was nice and funny. His looks were a nice bonus, but he was just generally a nice person to talk to.

Peter, on the other hand, was confused.

He felt the beginning of a crush forming. He knew the signs. But he didn't know what to do about them. He wanted to ignore them. To act like (Y/n) didn't matter to him at all. But he couldn't.

Every moment he spent thinking about (Y/n) was met with a moment of guilt. He felt wrong for starting to get feelings for someone else. It felt disrespectful to Gwen.

He just couldn't shake it.

He liked seeing (Y/n) in the mornings. He liked talking with them.

One day, (Y/n) wasn't there when he got his drink and he found himself feeling disappointed. The feeling shocked him. How far had the silly crush gone without him even realizing it?

It took weeks for Peter to accept that his feelings existed.

It took another number of weeks for him to even consider acting on them.

(Y/n) had this tendency to go get coffee on their day off and then sit in the shop to enjoy it. They would read or sit and scribble things into a notebook.

They would wave at Peter like they usually did. He would usually wave back, but walk out after getting his drink.

And then, one day, he didn't.

He grabbed his drink and walked over to the table where (Y/n) was sitting.

"May I," he asked.

(Y/n) looked at him in shock for a moment before nodding and motioning to the other seat with their hand.

He sat across from them and grinned.

The small talk started like it always did. Except there wasn't a time limit this time. They both had all the time in the world to sit and talk.

Peter took a deep breath as he held onto the now-empty coffee cup.

The talk had died down for a moment. He knew that if he was going to do anything about these feelings, then he needed to do it now.

"Do you wanna go to a movie," he asked. (Y/n) didn't have time to answer him before his rambling started. "As a date, I mean. And it doesn't have to be a movie. We can do whatever you want, really. And you can say no-"

"I'd like that," they cut him off.

"Really?"

They nodded. "A movie sounds great."

Peter left the coffee shop that say with (Y/n)'s number in his phone and a date set.

He had mixed emotions. He was happy they said yes. But he was nervous because this was his first date in a while. He was still feeling that small pull of guilt, but he tried to shake it off by thinking about how much he was looking forward to getting to spend more time with (Y/n).

The date itself was nice.

Peter met (Y/n) at their place, eyes scanning the names on the little buzzers outside the door as he waited for them to make their way downstairs.

The two of them walked together, making kind conversation. (Y/n) had apparently been looking forward to the movie they were seeing and was happy to not be going alone.

The movie was quiet. (Y/n) had reached over to hold Peter's hand. It was nice. They had just kind of lazily tangled their fingers with his, nervous about going too far for him. When he didn't move away from them, they felt this little pang of relief in their chest.

Peter didn't. When their hands met, the guilt came back. Except now, the guilt wasn't only focused on potential disrespect to Gwen's memory, but also to (Y/n). He felt like he had led them on. Maybe he wasn't ready for this. Maybe he was just moving too fast. Had he been spending weeks just dragging this poor person through his uncertainty just to play with their feelings?

He couldn't do that.

The pair walked home quietly. (Y/n) tried to make conversation. Peter tried to engage, but all of his responses were short and forced. He was so stuck in his thoughts.

"(Y/n)," he called as they walked to their door. They had only made it a few steps away from him. He probably didn't need to say their name as loud as he did.

"Yeah," they replied, moving back toward him.

"I... Tonight was great," he started. "But... I- I don't think I'm ready for this. Not yet, anyway. I don't want to lead you on if I'm not sure. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

(Y/n) reached out and touched his arm. "It's okay."

Peter's eyebrows furrowed.

"I... I'd rather you tell me now instead of finding out later," they shrugged, pulling their hand back. "Thank you... for being honest with me. I'll see you later, yeah?"

"Yeah," he nodded.

(Y/n) waved as they turned again and walked to their door.

They tried to be understanding. They were relieved that they weren't going to have to live up to some expectations they knew nothing about. They were happy that Peter had thought of their feelings enough to not lead them on. But it stung. They like him. A lot.

There were a few days where the pair didn't speak while waiting for their coffee. They would just stand there and pretend the other was invisible.

(Y/n) hated that.

They slowly started initiating small talk again. It was like they were restarting. This time on a level playing field. A better understanding of each other.

Peter thought that after that night, his feelings would go away. He wasn't ready. That's all there was to it. He could move on now. Go back to hiding away from the world around him.

He couldn't.

(Y/n) was on his mind constantly.

Through all of it, they had been so understanding and kind. Too kind to him. He didn't deserve it. He knew that.

He just couldn't escape how he felt.

It was like they were playing on a slideshow in his head. Images and memories. He could've sworn there were times that he could hear their voice when they weren't around.

It all hit him at once.

He loved them. He was in love with them. After months of constant denial, he had missed the moment that he fell down that very slippery slope.

Everything after that felt like he was being stupidly impulsive.

He went to (Y/n)'s building. Someone held the door open for him, which was a little concerning, but he shook it off for the time being. He made it upstairs to (Y/n)'s door.

Peter felt like he spent hours standing outside that door, just staring at it. Like someone paused a film. He couldn't get himself to move.

He took a deep breath and finally knocked on the door.

(Y/n) opened it a few moments later. Their eyebrows were furrowed as they asked Peter what he was doing there.

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, not having a good answer formulated.

"Peter-"

He cut them off by leaning forward and pressing his lips to theirs.

(Y/n) froze up for a moment.

Peter's hands cupped the sides of their face as his eyes screwed shut. It took him a total of two seconds for him to feel like it was probably a terrible idea on his part. But he didn't know what else to do or say. Maybe that's why he did it. Maybe he knew the words would never come out if he didn't do something so... forward beforehand.

(Y/n) seemed to snap back to their senses when their apartment door hit them as it tried to close.

They pulled away, pushing lightly on Peter's chest as they did. It left just a little bit of distance between them.

There was a pause as they both just kind of watched each other. (Y/n) was looking for a sign about why this had happened. Peter was looking for a sign of any reaction at all.

(Y/n) finally spoke up after a moment, "You're... You're going to get yourself pepper sprayed doing that."

Peter let out a chuckle as his nerves started to resolve. "Are you gonna pepper spray me?"

They slowly shook their head.

"Good," he nodded. "Because you're the only person I planned on kissing as soon as they opened their door."

"Oh," (Y/n) muttered. "Why?"

"I... I can't stop thinking about you," he explained. "At all. I... I thought that stepping back would make it better, but it didn't. If anything, I just thought about you more. And I know that all of this is annoying and after how much I've jumped back and forth, I wouldn't blame you for not wanting to deal with me, but I needed to talk to you and I just..."

Peter looked down, his sentence trailing off. He should've planned this out more. He sounded like an idiot for rambling the way he had.

(Y/n) grinned at him. "Peter..."

He looked back at them. They leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. A small grin formed on his face.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about you either," they muttered. They could feel their face getting warmer but tried to ignore it. "I... I just didn't want to push anything."

Peter visibly relaxed at the idea. He wasn't on his own.

"Um," (Y/n) nervously looked away as the look in his eyes almost overwhelmed them. "Would you like to come in? I've got coffee or just soda or... I... I don't know."

Peter chuckled at them. "Yeah."

(Y/n) stepped to the side, pushing the door open enough for Peter to step inside.

They were willing to follow his lead on all of this.

As slow as he wanted to take it, they didn't care.

They just wanted to be with him.

And they felt lucky to know that he wanted them too.

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

Navigation Guide

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

[literaila]

i’ll tell you in the morning

tasm!peter x reader

summary:

“you’re going to fall through the couch.”

“the couch would never betray me.”

warnings: overly considerate peter, scheming reader, fluff and stuff

*

“you’re supposed to be in bed.”

his voice rolls, like a click on a cassette, and you know that peter is not really there.

because it’s all a little blurry. his voice, the door opening, the feeling when he kneels down next to you, his breath hot in your ear.

it’s all some remanent of a dream. a brief moment where you might wake up, but decide not to.

“i’m serious,” his voice ebbs and flows, waving in and out, like your consciousness. “you know i don’t like it when you wait up for me.”

you groan and roll even further into the couch. your face is smushed, and your hair is a mess, sweaty because you’re drowning under every blanket in the house. it smells like cotton, and peter’s deodorant, and potato chips that you probably dropped through the cushions.

you dig your nose in deeper, trying to get back to that dream.

peters probably not actually there, you think, because if he was he would’ve kissed you awake. his hand would be lazily running through your hair, and his body would be pressed against yours. you would be cuddling by now.

real peter is much nicer than dream peter, who shakes your shoulder, albeit massaging you right afterward. “c’mon, bug, we’re going to bed.”

“sleeping,” you mumble, pulling away from him.

dream peter continues to try and wake you up, while you wonder—amidst the dream, no doubt—when real peter will be home. you want to be drowning in his collarbone instead of your own sweat.

there’s a kiss next to your ear. “you’re going to fall through the couch.”

“the couch would never betray me.”

“we’ll see if you’re saying that in the morning, when your neck is bent the wrong way,” he whispers, and rests his head against yours. you feel it as he breathes out, relaxes. almost like he’s purring into your ear.

so you keen into him, a bit awkwardly, considering that it’s his forehead. “why’d you wake me up?”

“you can’t sleep here.”

“c’mere,” you murmur to him, your hand wrapping around the back of his neck, fingertips just brushing his hair. “cuddle with me.”

“being cute isn’t going to stop me from moving you.”

“peter,” you try and push him away, “go to bed.”

“why are you out here?” his nose trails down your hair, to your neck. “it’s almost four in the morning.”

you ponder this, and decide that you don’t really remember what you were doing before you fell asleep here, with your hand shoved in the crook of your neck. “the beds cold,” you slur, head falling back into the cushions as you doze.

“that’s because all of the blankets are out here. why didn’t you turn the heat up?”

he’s playing with some baby hair by your ear now, trying to lull you to sleep, probably, because he loves you.

“i was waiting for you,” you whisper this like a prayer, “and now you’re here.”

“you waited in the wrong spot. i would’ve come to bed with you. there’s no room for me here,” he smiles when you finally turn your head towards him. he’s got a smudge on his nose, and his eyes are sunken in—aged from exhaustion.

“i know.”

you’re both whispering. trying not to wake that drowsy, lovesick part of yourself right now.

“hmm?” he leans into you, nose brushing your cheek. almost like he’s breathing you in. “what, bug?”

“i wanted to fall asleep with you.”

then his eyes are wide open, and he leans back, brows furrowed in a tight line. “i told you i was going out.”

you muse at his confused face, and lean back towards him. “i know. i didn’t know when you’d be home.”

“you could’ve called.”

“i’m not going to interrupt your repertoire with a burglar at midnight. it’s rude.”

“not to me.”

you tsk, and lean away, back into the pillow comforting you while simultaneously scheming to ruin your morning.

“you need more sleep than i do,” peter adds, trying to keep you awake with his sheer willpower, his hands squirm under your shoulders. “we’ve talked about this.”

“no, you threatened to tell my mom—“

“that’s not what i said,” peter interrupts, groaning into the sofa.

“that i wasn’t getting enough sleep. and i said that you could make your own decisions, but that i wasn’t going to stop waiting up for you.”

“it makes me feel bad,” he ignores your gentle protesting. “i don’t want to keep you up.”

“peter, it’s not like you’re out dancing with strippers.”

he laughs, unexpectedly. and you grin back at him, with a sheer conviction undiluted by any hints of remaining sleep.

“you’re up helping people. i don’t mind waiting for you,” you emphasize this by leaning in to kiss his forehead, tasting sweat and not minding at all.

“you’re going to be tired tomorrow. when did you fall asleep?”

you acknowledge your win for what it is, and sit up on the couch, looking around your apartment like you can’t remember where you are. “probably an hour ago. i didn’t know when you’d be home, and i waited a while, but then i moved to the couch so you’d have to wake me up if i fell asleep.”

“so this was an elaborate scheme, huh?” peter laughs at you as his teeth graze your cheek. his chaste kiss makes you warm.

“i learned from the best.”

peter chuckles against you, and the two of you sit like that for a moment. calculating each others breathing like there’s something you might miss, however brief.

and then you smile at him, and he smiles back. “bed?” he asks you, softly, fingertip running against the skin of your jaw. you nod.

his arms wrap around you as he picks you up, your head rested comfortably on his shoulder, legs wrapped around his waist.

“i’m leaving you on the couch next time,” he threatens as he walks, “just so you know.”

“then we’ll both wake up with sore backs. not just you.”

peter snorts. “i didn’t say i would be there.”

“like you can sleep without me.”

he doesn’t say anything to that, but you feel him murmur in your hair suspiciously.

peter sets you down on the bed softly, pushing your legs so you’ll lay down, then covering you with the comforter. he tucks you in like any average middle aged dad.

when you grin he nods, very satisfied with himself.

“i’m just gonna change,” he says, taking a step back.

“hurry. i’m tired.”

“now, look who’s talking,” he shakes his head, but moves swiftly to the bathroom. you hear it as he runs the sink, as he bangs his foot on something and curses, and when he pads back into the bedroom, looking like a young child sneaking out of bed in his pajamas.

you laugh. “where did you get those?”

peter looks down to himself. to the many cartoon styled spider-man’s dancing across his cotton pajama set. “what? this old thing.”

“i don’t think i can be seen in public with you if you’re wearing that.”

“we are in the privacy of our bedroom,” he points out.

“i don’t think i can be in the same room with you if you’re wearing that.”

peter shakes his head, pouting like he’s disappointed, but he slips the shirt off, a concession he’s apparently willing to make.

though you don’t doubt that there are ulterior motives to this move.

“c’mon,” you whine to him, “i’m cold.”

“you’re so needy.”

you roll your eyes, but sink into him as he shuffles from beside you, laying his head near yours. “you’re not coddling me.”

“i’m so very sorry, my dear,” he whispers, and wraps his arms around you.

“shh,” you nuzzle your nose into his neck, and murmur against his hot skin. “i want to go back to the dream i was having.”

peter must be laughing at you, you can tell, even slightly asleep, because something jostles you.

“what was it about?”

you smile against him, listening to his heart like a hymn you’re devoted to. “i’ll tell you in the morning.”

he whispers something, brief, a whisper in the quiet of the room. but you feel the words as he settles into the bed, his calloused hands running over your skin.

and you fall asleep; hands clutching the others heart.

*

[vivwritesfics]

"I Know"

Peter Parker has the best girlfriend ever

1.1K

Peter Parker x Reader

I've been MIA for the longest time because the inspo just hasn't been there. But I've gotten away from university for a few days, and this is what came from my peaceful time alone

"I'm so sorry, baby," said Peter. He stood on top of a building, watching a bank robbery happening opposite. A bag full of snacks and two pairs of his favourite pyjamas lay discarded beside him, and Peter made a mental note to pick it up later. The wind was biting, but Peter didn’t care. His attention was split evenly between his girlfriend and the bank robbery.

This was not the first time he had flaked on date night, and he knew it wouldn't be the last. He and his girlfriend both knew. But Peter Parker had the most understanding girlfriend in the world.

"It's okay, Pete," she said. Peter could picture her now, snuggled up in her bed, waiting to change into a pair of his pyjamas, with her snack basket filled and her laptop loaded up with a Christmas movie. "Go... save the world."

It wasn't quite saving the world, but she made Peter smile. She always made Peter smile. Y/N was the most understanding person in the world. "I'll be at yours as soon as I can. Don't open the chocolate without me."

After that, Peter had no choice but to hang up. The bank robbery had started to wrap up and Peter had to stop them. He put his phone in his bag, pulled his mask over his face, and swung down to the bank. "You guys have ruined my date night."

“What the fuck?” One of the bank robbers dropped his white bag filled with green notes and swung a bat at Peter.

It was cartoon-y, how these robbers were behaving. The white bags, the notes flying all over the place. Their ski masks weren’t masks at all, but unfolded beanies with the eyeholes cut out. “Wait, can I get a picture? My girlfriend is going to love this.”

***

Y/N’s family loved Peter. Somehow, he’d never been late to dinner with her parents. Either criminals decided to take the day off, to let Peter have his dinner, or for once somebody else was cleaning up the city in his stead.

But not tonight.

“I’ll be maybe ten minutes late,” he said as he swung through the city. His suit was discarded, but his tie was still around his neck.

Y/N had her phone between her shoulder and her ear as she put in a pair of earrings. Dinners like these were a big deal to her parents. The whole family dressed up fancy, all of her sibling’s partners were invited and they had at least three courses. “Pete, babe, it’s fine. I’ll cover you.” And, as she said it, she didn’t sound disappointed at all.

Peter really had the best girlfriend in the world. “Holy shit, I love you,” he said, only just noticing his tie. But it was too late to remove it now. “Please send me the cover story.”

They said their goodbyes (with Y/N begging him to stay safe) and went to do their things. Peter fought the bad guy, managing to keep his rather expensive tie intact. Y/N finished getting dressed for dinner and went downstairs to greet her parents.

Her siblings and their partners were already downstairs, drinks in their hands.

“There she is!” Called her brother as Y/N stepped into the room. He checked his watch and feigned a frown. “Not like that boyfriend of yours to be late, is it?”

With her hands clasped behind her back, Y/N rocked on her heels. “Actually, Peters gonna be late today,” she said, hoping they weren’t going to ask anymore questions.

“That Parker boy is never late,” her father said, “What’s holding him up?”

Before now, Y/N hadn’t thought of an excuse for Peter. She had just hoped they wouldn’t ask, and then he could’ve come up with his own backstory. (Peter had gotten good at that).

“Uhh…His house… caught fire? And his aunt… is in the hospital… with death?” oh yeah no this was not going well. “Oh! And the tire on his bike popped.”

Yes. That was very believable.

But nobody questioned it as Y/N sat beside her sister and her sister’s girlfriend. “He’ll be here soon.”

Her eyes shifted to the floor, which only made everything more believable. She pulled out her phone and sent Peter the cover story, just seconds before the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it!” She shouted, jumping up.

Racing to the front door, Y/N pulled it open to see Peter stood there, still sorting out his suit. “You are so lucky nobody else answered the door,” she said and buttoned up his shirt correctly. “I sent you over the cover story,” she whispered and kissed his cheek.

Pulling him into the house, Y/N pushed him towards her father. “Hello, Mr L/N! Sorry, I’m late, my tire burst.”

Suddenly, Y/N’s mother came running out of the kitchen. “Peter, my dear!” She shouted and pulled him in for a hug. “I’m so sorry to hear about May and your house. You can stay here for as long as you need!” She cried, running her fingers through her hair. He looked at Y/N with her brows furrowed. ‘Go with it’, she mimed. “How about we all go and visit May as soon as we’re finished with dinner?”

“Oh! Please, Mrs L/N. That’s not necessary.” Peter pulled away from his girlfriend’s mother and grabbed Y/N’s hand. “Can I have a word with you upstairs?” He asked her, and Y/N allowed herself to be pulled up to her bedroom.

As soon as the door was shut Y/N was wrapped around him. “I missed you,” she said, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“Missed me so much you told your family that May was in the hospital?”

“And that your house burnt down,” she said quietly, laying her head on his chest. “I know I said I’d cover for you, but I’m not very good at it, Pete.” Her arms snaked around his middle, sitting beneath his blazer.

Peter’s phone suddenly buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket and frowned once he looked at it. “Oh god, what is it?” Asked Y/N, looking up at Peter with wide eyes.

“Baby, I love you but, I’ve got to go. I swear this’ll-”

“It’s okay, Peter, I know.”

Peter kissed her. It was slow, yet oh so intense. One of those kisses that makes you gasp. “I have the best girlfriend in the world.”

[alwaysmoncheri]

hello! I hope you’re doing good! I would like to request a fic with tasm!peter parker or james potter if you prefer, but something where they’re making out and the reader ends up breaking his glasses? If that makes sense🫣

hi, my darling, i’m am doing very well! thank you for requesting, that makes complete sense! I’m totally watching tasm again after writing this <3

cw: fem!reader, making out, slightly suggestive (but not really), aunt may walking in, established relationship, fluff, 1.2k

<3

Peter’s mouth is on your neck while the bridge of his glasses rubs against the skin just an inch higher than his mouth. His hands stay firmly planted on your hips as you sit in his lap on his swivel chair. Your textbook and computer lay abandoned next to his on his desk in front of you.

“Peter, I have to study,” you mumble, but the sigh that escapes your lips makes your excuse less believable, “We have to study.” you add, trying you best to get yourself and peter back on track for a big exam tomorrow. Crazy for Peter or not, this test is important and you need to get a little studying in, but you can’t get Peter to keep his hands off you.

“No, we don’t.” Peter replies quickly, before biting your neck, causing you to let out squeak.

“Peter,” you practically whine, and the chuckle that falls from Peter’s mouth vibrates onto your neck, causing you to squirm in his lap. When Peter lifts his head from your neck, you’re pouting. Lips jutted out and eyebrows pinched together with pleading eyes. Oh, Peter could die right here with you in his arms. He pulls you closer, biceps and hands pressed into your sides and forearms into your stomach.

“You’re going to be fine,” Peter offers gently, pressing a much softer kiss to your cheek, allowing you to release the tension from your face, “You’ve studied plenty already.”

“But–”

“No, buts,” Peter shuts you down, gently rubbing your sides in an attempt to silence your worries. He wants to kiss you so bad, but he would never do it without your permission. And if you want to study, he’ll let you, but he doesn’t think you really do, “Kiss me?”

Peter hears you release a long, dramatic, sigh before shifting yourself in his lap so that you’re straddling him, his hands now stabilizing you by your waist. For a moment your face is expressionless and Peter can’t read you. He worries that you’re unhappy with him but when he sees a giddy smile creep onto your face, he instantly reciprocates and his worries melt away.

You lock your hands around Peter’s neck before leaning in to kiss him. At first, you kiss him softly, tenderly just because you love him. But when you lightly tug on Peter’s hair at the nape of his neck, he takes it as a sign to tug on your hips, pulling you flush against his chest and deepen the kiss. But when the bridge of you nose knocks into Peter’s glasses, you groan in momentary pain, causing his eyes to widen, hand reaching up to gently hold your cheek, the action asking if you’re okay. When you nod your head and meet his gaze, you notice his concern before it’s quickly replaced with frustration. Peter quickly tears his glasses on his face and tosses them towards his bed without sparing a glance in that direction. But when a soft crack echos from across the room, you snap your gaze towards the glasses that now lay broken at the bridge on the floor.

“Peter!” You gasp, shifting your gaze between him and the broken glasses, but no concern seems to be etched on his face.

“Don’t worry, I can get new ones,” Peter assures you, kissing the corners of your lips while his nose delicately brushes the apples of your cheeks, “I just wanna kiss you.” Peter whispers and you feel a rush of warmth spread across your face at his tone.

“Aunt May isn’t going to be happy.” You state, nervously glancing towards the door that Peter probably forgot to lock again.

“Shush, less talking, baby,” Oh god, you melt completely at the way his says baby and presses his finger to your mouth, before replacing it with his lips, “More kissing.” He adds in between a few quick, hard, presses of his lips on yours.

“Oh whatev—hmph!”

Peter kisses you long and hard, successfully getting you to stop talking. You feel hot all over when he kisses you again and again. And when you rank your fingers through his hair, lightly tugging on the ends, while simultaneously gently biting his bottom lip, Peter makes a sound between a gasp and a groan that makes you want to do it again just so you can hear the sound once more. There’s a kiss, another, and another, you’re so caught up in the feeling of his mouth against yours, carefully sliding your hands up and down his chest before lightly gripping a fist full of his shirt to keep him near you.

The way Peter touches you is like muscle memory, he knows how to make you gasp and what makes you shiver. When, his hands slip under the material of your shirt and caress your skin, your body reacts exactly how he knows it always does. Then, he lifts you up, your legs wrap around his waist, and with his lips still on yours, he gently lowers the both of you onto his bed. He seems so far away now and you can’t handle it. Before he even has the chance to lower himself further down onto the bed, you grab his biceps, which are tensed from holding himself up, and tug him towards you. Peter practically falls and suddenly the weight of his whole body is on top of you, Peter worries for a moment, breaking the kiss, but you make a noise, reminiscent to a childish whine before grabbing his jaw with both of you hands and pulling him back. With his lips on yours, his tongue slides into your mouth while your thumbs trace the outline of his jaw and his hand slides behind you back and into your shirt.

“Hey, do you two know where—Oh my goodness!” You and Peter are quickly pulled apart, turning your heads in the direction of Aunt May’s loud gasp. She stands just outside the bedroom with one hand still on the doorknob, her expression loudly displaying her shock. Peter stays on top of you for a split second, before May’s gaze shifts between his hand in your shirt and both of your disheveled appearances, “Peter Benjamin Parker!”

With that, Peter immediately jumps up from on top of you, quickly grabbing your hand to stand next to him. Both of your faces are flushed red from being caught, even if all you were doing was kissing. Aunt May stands by the door, both of her hands placed firmly on her hips, presumably awaiting a reasonable response while you and Peter glance at each other in search of something to say. When Peter’s gaze returns to his aunt, he finally opens his mouth to speak.

“Aunt May—We were just—” Peter pauses as he stumbles over his words, feeling pathetic under the eyes of both you and his aunt.

“Studying.” You finish with a somewhat convincing smile and when Aunt May turns to you, her gaze softens, but when she notices the broken glasses laying forgotten on the floor behind you, her questioning expression returns.

“And what happened to your glasses?” Aunt May asks, a triumphant smile crossing her face as she knows she’s caught the two of you red-handed in your obvious lie, “Were you studying when that happened?”

You and Peter hesitate, he sends you a nervous smile and the both of you bite your tongues, not trusting yourselves to speak. After a moment, the two of you nod, heads hanging low.

“Mhm, right,” May hums before sending Peter a look that says, ‘we’ll talk later.’ Then, she takes a few steps into the room, causing you and Peter’s eyes to widen, but May only steps around you to pick up the broken glasses before walking back towards the door, “Well, dinner is almost ready, you two better behave.”

“Okay, yeah, thank you, May.” Peter says, and you can tell he’s beyond flustered by the situation as he runs a hand through his hair, then brushes a finger along his bottom lip, “We’ll be down soon.”

May nods before sending the both of you one final look, this one a little more playful than the rest. She exits the bedroom and closes the door behind her, leaving you and Peter alone once again.

The both of you share a glance before breaking out in a fit of laughter. Peter falls back onto the bed, tugging you down with his so that you’re laying on his chest.

“I told you she’d be mad.” You tease, running your hand up his chest, eventually reaching the back of his neck, while leaving a gentle kiss on his jaw.

“It was so worth it.” Peter smirks before flipping you over and kissing your face

<3

masterlist . tasm!peter parker masterlist . taglist

thank you for reading, my darling! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily! send requests to my inbox!

tags: @googie-jeon, @Kevia1000, @annoyingmidgetwhowrites, @averyhotchner, @marauderswhxre, @vixparker

alwaysmoncheri © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.

[ro-is-struggling]

Anxiety || TASM!Peter Parker x Reader

Pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x Reader (I wrote this with Andrew's Peter Parker in mind because I’m in my Andrew Garfield era but you can imagine the other Spideys if you want, it’s not too specific)

Warnings: mentions of anxiety and insecurities (nothing too graphic), Peter being a loving supportive boyfriend. I think that’s all but if I missed anything let me know!

Word count: 1200+

Summary: Peter comforts you after you had a bad day.

English is not my first language so there could be a lot of grammar mistakes in this. Also I wrote it on the bus on my way back home so it could be a mess. 

Notes: okay so I have social anxiety and yesterday I had to do a presentation in class. I was terrified but it went well for the most part. The thing is that on my way home my stupid brain tried to convince otherwise so to distract myself I wrote this little thing. I wasn't going to post this but then I thought maybe there could be someone out there who needs to read this as much as I needed to write it at that time. So here it is. Enjoy and remember: you are doing great and Peter loves you and is really proud of you!

I hope you like it! Likes, comments or reblogs are very much appreciated!

"Hey, I'm home" you announced as you closed the front door of the apartment you shared with your boyfriend. Peter was home. There was light coming out of the living room which meant that he had not left to patrol the streets of New York as his alter ego yet. As you tossed your keys on the small table on the entryway you thanked the universe for his presence. You needed him. There was nothing you wanted more than to hide in the warmth of his embrace and forget about the world outside. 

The journey back to your house from class had been exhausting. A mere 15 minutes separated your apartment from the place you studied at, but that was more than enough time for your mind to upset you, your brain overthinking even the stupidest things. You spent the whole trip trapped with that damn voice in your head that always ruined your moments of peace and quiet. That voice that always told you that you weren't enough, that everybody hated you and made fun of you, that you fucked everything up and all you did was embarrass yourself every time you opened your mouth. You knew that it was all lies, nothing more than your fears and insecurities talking, but it was hard not to listen to them. Impossible to ignore without a distraction to help you bury it in the depths of your mind. 

That's why you were filled with joy when you saw Peter's head poking through the hallway. You threw your backpack to the ground and ran to him with open arms.

"I missed you too, ladybug" he mumbled into your hair, holding you close to him. "How was class?"

"Fine, I guess" you answered him half-heartedly, voice muffled by his chest. You didn't want to let go of him until his good humor rubbed off on you and made you feel better.

"You're gonna have to speak up if you want me to hear you, bug" Peter said pulling away from you. You huffed in protest, pouting in hopes that it would be enough to convince him to wrap his arms around you again. But your efforts were in vain.

"We can hug all you want later, I went patrolling in the afternoon so we could spend the night together" he explained, taking you by the shoulders to put some distance between the two of you. "What happened?"

Of course he knew something was wrong with you! He knew you better than anyone. He could guess your humor with a quick look into your eyes. It was scary sometimes how good he was at reading your body language. But for the most part you were grateful because he helped you open up about your problems.

“Nothing" you said trying to avoid the embarrassing conversation that was coming. You thought about lying to him, but when you saw the look on his face you knew it wasn't worthy. "I had to give a presentation in front of the whole class. I was nervous about it but the teacher passed me."

"Really? That's great, bug! I'm so proud of you" Peter cheared. He knew about your social anxiety, about how difficult it was for you to do mundane things such as speak up in class or order food. He always noticed when you were uncomfortable and tried to help you in any way he could. But he also encouraged you to go out of your comfort zone even if it was in small things. Peter was a great guy to have around in stressful times. He always knew what to say or do to silence that voice in your head that didn't let you live your life in peace.

"Yeah, I thought so too. I got a couple of things wrong but the teacher was really nice about it."

"So what's the matter then?" he asked you, looking at you with a soft gaze.

"You know how I get" you answered with a shrug, avoiding his eyes. You were embarrassed that such a normal thing like talking in class was causing so much trouble. "I started overthinking on the way home... Thinking about how stupid I must have looked with my face all red or how my voice sounded funny and now I feel weird. I just want to forget it all."

Peter moved a little closer to you. One of his hands traveled up to your chin, lifting your face to force you to look at him. Your eyes focused on the wall behind him and the light on the ceiling before settling on his face. You felt stupid and you were almost afraid to look him in the eye because you knew he would be able to read what was going through your mind without you having to say it. Peter was patient, waiting silently for you to decide to look at him before speaking.

“You are one of the smartest people that I know, bug. You got a good grade and that is all you should care about. No one laughed at you or thought you were dumb. Everybody makes mistakes and gets nervous during those things, it’s normal. I promise you no one cared.” 

His voice was soft and in his eyes you could see all the love he felt for you. He was willing to repeat phrases like that for the rest of his life if it made you feel better. Just thinking about it brought tears to your eyes. You were so grateful to Peter for everything he did for you. You would never be able to put into words the love you felt for him. It was amazing how a couple of words could silence all the doubts in your head when they came from him. He had a power over you that no one else had ever had before, and as much as it scared you a little at times, you were grateful. You could trust Peter with your life, you were sure of that.

“You’re right,” you nodded.

“Of course I’m right! I’m dating the smartest and kindest girl in the entire world” he said with a grin. The cheerfulness in his voice made you smile for the first time since you left class. Peter admired the curve of your lips for a moment before leaning towards you, closing the small distance between the two of you. 

His lips crashed into yours in a tender kiss full of love. You moved in synchrony, enjoying the sweet taste of each other. Peter cupped your face to pull you even closer to him and sucked in your bottom lip, making you gasp in pleasure. All your worries disappeared as you melted into his arms, reveling in the warmth of his body. The world around you ceased to exist, all you could focus on was his soft lips moving against yours and the way his fluffy hair felt under your hands. 

When you finally pulled away you were filled with calmness, remembering that everything would be okay as long as Peter was by your side. It was you and him against the world and you were more than okay with that. He was your rock, the person that always grounded you and you were so grateful to the universe for crossing your paths.

“Now, how about some dinner? I cooked us something” Peter announced after catching his breath.

“You cooked something?” you asked, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. He wasn’t very good at cooking, he was far too clumsy and forgetful to be able to prepare something edible.

“I ordered it, but I put it on plates! Doesn't the presentation count for something?”

“Of course it does, bug boy!” you laughed. “Now let's go eat, I’m starving!”