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fandomskeepmeupatnight · 6 years

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teardrops [p.p. x stark!reader]

summary — you’re there for peter when he breaks down after a tough fight.

CONTAINS: fluff, angst, some sadness, swearing

A/N: hello i made this bc i just needed some good comforting material. I’m on my period and not feeling well and just stressed from school. this is my way of compartmentalizing lmaoooo,,,have some fluff and comfort. also! there should be a tutoring fic up soon! stay tuned for updates. hope you enjoy!! :)

MASTERLIST

It was a cold Friday evening. School for the day had wrapped up only a few hours prior, and you were curled up in your bed with a fresh bag of chips and a plate of brownies. You couldn’t have felt more content with your life—especially, with the lack of homework for the long weekend.

You were hoping for Peter to stop by before the night went pitch black—every time you heard a siren whistling in the distance, you thought of him and his mask and his red and blue suit. You thought of him gliding through the air with silky white webs carrying him swiftly through the atmosphere of Queens. He wasn’t far. Well, he was far enough. And you missed him. Since you lived Upstate and he lived in Queens, it wasn’t exactly the most practical thing for you two to visit each other. After all, he had school and his friends and patrol, and you had your own school work and your club meetings. You had your life and he had his, but you always missed him.

There was something about Peter Parker that you could never quite understand. You almost thought he was perfect. Almost, but not entirely. You didn’t want to get yourself stuck too far up in the clouds; you wouldn’t ever come back down.

You and Peter were friends. Nothing more—although you did admit you indeed wanted something more at times. You liked the way he talked and the way he looked at you. You liked the sound of his voice, and you could never have enough of him or those eyes or his aura. He was so warm.

“Hey, kiddo. It’s starting to get late. You’ve had a rough week—how about you call it a night and put that show down?” your dad suggested, pushing your door open to reveal a tiresome expression.

You sighed, lips pressing into a frown. “Is Peter not coming tonight?”

“I don’t know. I’m assuming not. What? Was he supposed to?” Tony hummed, scratching the back of his neck. “Why?”

You shrugged. “Oh, um … No reason. I was just curious. Never mind. Good night, Dad.”

“Night, sweetheart. I’m just in the shop if you need me. Love you, kiddo.”

“Love you, too.”

After your father left, you turned the lights off and curled back into bed. Maybe he was right. Maybe you should just go to sleep. You could see Peter tomorrow. He was probably just busy with patrol. You could understand that.

It wasn’t long after that before you heard a tap against your window, your eyelids peeling back to see a masculine silhouette plastered onto the opposing side of the thick glass. You furrowed your brows, hastily kicking the bed sheets off your legs and hurrying to open the window. Why the hell did Peter scale forty floors to your bedroom? Does he have any idea how dangerous that is? For God’s sake—he couldn’t just used the damn elevator!

“Peter!” you gasped, curling your fingers around the fabric of his suit. He flipped into your room, panting heavily. His masked face hung towards the floor, shoulders trembling with every shallow breath. “Peter? Hey, are you okay?”

The room went silent for a moment. All you could hear was your heart racing and the blood rushing to your head. Fear prodded sharply at your chest, and Peter would not stop hyperventilating. You had no idea what to do. You didn’t know what was happening, you didn’t know what was wrong. What happened?

“Peter, hey,” you spoke smoothly, trying to keep your own voice calm and leveled. You stretched an arm forward, placing your hand onto his shoulder. “Talk to me. Are you hurt?”

A pause. And then a fit of shattered, strangled sobs soon filled the void. He broke down, and you couldn’t take it anymore. You quickly yanked off his mask. Your face twisted into concern at the sight of Peter and his beaten face, distinct tear tracks cutting through dried blood and grime. His lashes were clumped together, brown eyes that were once bright and radiating exuberance now leaking with horrible, horrible pain and sorrow and regret. And guilt. There was so, so much guilt, he could just drown in it—and you could drown in it. And every else could drown it in.

“Y/N, I-I—He … I can’t believe he’s-he’s dead. And it’s my fault! All my fault!” he cried, a grimace possessing his once delicate, soft features. He was hardened and older.

You put your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him gently towards you. Your other hand worked tirelessly, fingers running in soothing motions down the length of his matted, curly locks that were dripping with hot sweat. You tried desperately to ease him with no avail.

“I killed him! It’s my fault! If it weren’t for me, he’d still be alive, and I-I can’t—I can’t believe I—oh, God—“ he wept, his tone laced with violent anguish.

“Peter, shhh … You need to calm down. You need to relax. Peter, please.” You pleaded with him.

You felt the heat of his body fanning onto yours, his gloved hands wrapped tightly around your wrists. He urged to to hold onto him—to anchor him into the ground before he lost himself. He focused on you—the sweet sound of your voice and how smooth and beautiful it was. He could smell your hair and your body, and relished in the feeling of your fingers cupping his chin.

“Tell me what happened,” you coaxed, resting your hands on his shoulders.

Peter let out a shaky breath. “O-okay. I-I was just on patrol, going through the motions, but … s-something felt off about tonight. Something bad was going to happen, and it was annoying me because I couldn’t know until it did happen. And-and it did. It was a kid. Younger than me. Than us. He was just minding his own business, then there was some man. I-I don’t know, it all happened so fast. And I wasn’t fast enough! I-I was too slow, even for me! If I wasn’t such an idiot, maybe I could’ve saved him. If I thought quicker, I could’ve saved him, Y/N! And now he’s-hes …” Peter felt sick. His stomach was twisting and turning with the memory of blood burned into his brain; the memory of red pooling around the body of a child young than him; this child had a mother and a father and maybe siblings and friends. And now he was gone. All because of him. It was all his fault. All his fault.

Your heart broke with his words. You couldn’t even fathom baring witness to a scene as crippling is that. You couldn’t ever.

And Peter was so broken. You’d never seen him so hysterical or intense, nearly making himself sick and nauseaous with grief. You wanted to get Tony—you should definitely get Tony. Tony would know exactly what to do. He always knew how to help Peter—probably better than you ever could.

But Peter was swaying and holding on to you so tightly that all you could do was hold him tighter. And you didn’t let go.

“It’ll be okay, Pete. I’m so sorry. I’m really, really sorry. But Peter, you tried. And I know it hurts to think you could’ve done more, but sometimes you do all you can and it just doesn’t work out. But that’s life—“

“Y/N, you can’t say that! T-there’s—it’s … I’m a monster. I need to be better. I’m not fast enough, skilled enough. Not smart enough. Not good enough!”

You held his face, using the soft pads of your thumbs to brush away the fallen tears. It broke your heart seeing him cry, wetness burning away in your own speckling irises. You swallowed thickly, releasing a trembling breath before pinching your brows together and continuously swaddling Peter with reassuring touches.

“Pete, listen to me—you are the smartest person I know. You’re brilliant, but the books don’t matter, Peter, this does—“ you paused, resting your palm firmly against his heart, caressing his sharp jaw and gazing deeply into his wet eyes with an expression so tender and loving it could make an angel cry. “Peter, your goodness is the best thing about you. Your goodness is the reason why you save everyone—even the bad ones. Because you’re so good. You’re so, so good. I know that it hurts, but you have to find a way to live with the pain. You can’t save everyone. Even when those people are the ones who deserve to be saved the most.”

“That’s not fair though! It’s not fair!” he sniffled, his face falling onto your shoulder. You wrapped your arms around him, feeling the wetness of his tears soak through the thin material of your cotton shirt. You rubbed his back, pressing a soft kiss to the side of his head.

“No, it’s not. But it is what it is. Life is life. You can’t save everyone, but you can try. And that’s what’s important, Peter. And that’s why you’re a hero.”

“I don’t feel like a hero.”

“No one ever really does,” you scoffed sadly. You were relieved to feel him relax against you, his hands dropping to your hips before curling around your back.

“It just hurts,” he whispered, shoulder’s trembling. “And it’s scary. Every night I see what people are capable of and I don’t think I’ll ever understand them.”

Peter pulled away from your frame, head ducked down so he could drink in your flustered appearance. You didn’t hesitate to reach up, your thumb running along his flushed cheeks to rid them of their transparent tracks. You took your time, wiping away each and every crystal-esque droplet, watching therapeutically as the liquid seeped into his soft skin.

“That I don’t have an answer for. People do crazy shit, but I don’t know why. They’re just … insane.”

Peter nodded in agreement, a few more final teardrops slipping from the corners of his eyes and rolling down his rose-kissed cheeks. You smiled tenderly at him, tracing his jaw lightly while running the pads of your thumbs across his toned cheekbones again. He felt more chiseled—more sharper—yet delicate balanced in your palms, and he leaned achingly into your docile, safe touch. You watched in admiration as his eyes batted shut and he relaxed in your warmth, his hands still sitting firmly on your hips.

The two of you stood in silence for a few more minutes, the only noises heard being the distinct hum of New York traffic and Peter’s abrupt sniffles. He reached up, wiping away the snot that had leaked onto his upper lip.

“Sorry for waking you up,” he mumbled, hiding how congested he sounded (and doing a rather poor job it it).

You removed your cold hands from his face, resorting to placing your wrists on his shoulders. Your heart was racing, and never before had you felt adrenaline so profound kicking away at your core. You were burning, and you loved it, and you knew it was wrong, but all you wanted to do was kiss him.

You shook your head. “Don’t be sorry. I was barely asleep,” you assured. “Do you want to talk to my dad? He might be able to help a bit. At least, he’s more experienced in this field than I am.”

Peter didn’t reply. He merely stared. His dark brown eyes were swimming with constellations and in the blackness of the bedroom—only illuminated by the picturesque glittering atmosphere of the city from beyond the glass windows—you could tell he was thinking of something (and consciously—entirely, wholely consciously—you hoped it was you he was thinking of). He was pondering upon something, and this something was certainly gnawing away at his mind like nothing else had ever before. There was a pensive gleam glowing in his dilated pupils, and you felt the longer you two stared, the better he knew you and the more you wondered about him.

“Peter, hey? Are you—“

You were baffled by the sudden movement of his head dipping down to meet yours, his lips falling eloquently onto yours. Your eyes widened in pure shock for a moment. Peter was kissing you. In your room. All alone. You felt something peculiar jump in the pit of your stomach, and after a raw moment of a realization that this moment was not a scheme painted by your subconscious mind, you finally reciprocated. The lids of your eyes slipped shut, and you succumbed to the series of emotions lodging their way throughout your chest.

Peter’s arms locked around your waist as he pulled you closer, your bodies aligned in a parallel formatiom. You couldn’t think fluently enough to find a substantial place for your hands, so you settled upon one curled through his chestnut locks and the other against his cheek. His skin was warm beneath your careful fingertips, and the feeling of his lips kissing yours was something you couldn’t exactly find the appropriate vocabulary to explain.

You kissed for only a few seconds and time had never been more irrelevant.

“Uh, w-wow—“ you whispered, your voice hoarse. Anxiously, you wiped your palms against your thighs. “That was—“

“Was-was it okay? I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean—I just-I couldn’t take it anymore, I had to … I had to kiss you,” he confessed. Even in the darkness you could tell he was a blushing disaster.

You giggled lightly, shaking your head. A dimpled smile found it’s way onto your lips. “No, Pete. I liked it. I was just um … I was surprised. I-I didn’t think that you felt the same.”

“O-oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” he said, grabbing tightly on your hand. You blushed at the feeling of your fingers entwining. Even though the two of you had held hands before, it’d never pertained to a manner like this. Sometimes it was subconsciously when one of you felt nervous. When in doubt, Peter would always be there to keep you safe. “I-I dont know if that was really the right time to do that, but I mean, I thought—“

“Peter, just stop overthinking it and kiss me again,” you chuckled, shaking your head.

Peter grinned widely, and you marveled at his smile.

He leaned in once again to kiss you, this time the kiss was enveloped with a renewed passion. There was only a hint of uncertainty this time, but those feelings of doubt soon resolved with your arms looping around him. You laughed against his lips, smiling fully into the kiss as you felt him pick you up, your toes barely scraping against the floor.

“Peter!” you squealed.

“Y/N, we’re going to wake up Mr. Stark!” Peter warned.

“Hey, are you sure you don’t want to talk to him before bed?” You hated to ruin the mood, but you didn’t want Peter running away from anything that had he potentia to come back for him later.

Peter shrugged. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow. Besides, I have you tonight. That’s more than enough for me.”

You pecked his lips, your heart fluttering at his words. “Well, then … On that note, I’d say we have a long night of catching up in front of us.”

“Sounds perfect to me, Y/N.”

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fandomskeepmeupatnight · 6 years

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MASTERLIST

UPDATED AS OF 7/21/2017

CRIMINAL MINDS

Smarter Than I Look

لم شمل

Still Here

Dreamer

Association

Chance (Pt1)

Second Chance (Pt2)

Chance Wedding (Pt3)

Little Chance (Pt4)

Butterflies

The Color Red (Pt1)

Gray(Pt2)

Pink and Blue (Pt3)

Fortune Cookies (pt1)

Keeper (pt2)

Catch Me

Sick Day

The Twin

Mutual Attraction

Affected

Caught

No Monsters (Monsters Universe 1)

Daddy (Monsters Universe 2)

The Next Chapter (Monsters Universe 3)

Becoming A Reid (Monsters Universe Bonus)

A New Addition (Monsters Universe 4)

Not Yours

Misunderstanding

Like I’m Gonna Lose You

Flirting

Like No One’s Watching

Jennifer Isabel

She Checks Out

Mom-Approved

Love, Laugh, Safe

Best Christmas I’ve Ever Had

Now Dialing…

Aveline Charlotte Reid (pt 1)

Sweet Caroline (pt 2)

Christmas Morning

My Snowflake (pt 1)

A Different Kind of White Christmas (pt 2)

More Than Friends

Jealous

Happy Birthday

Teach Me To Feel

Home To You

Marine Science

Truth From Fiction

A Match (pt1)

Hazel Eyes (pt 2)

Love You, Hazel Eyes (pt 3)

Fight and Flight

Just A Cover

Simon and River

Dare?

Rushing

Anxious

Welcome Home, Sailor

I Win

Speed Reader

Poolside Fears

Talented

Spider Sense

Karaoke Dare

Baby Fever

Rescued

Baby Genius

White Flag

New Year, New Us

Decades Old Date

One Try

Beautiful

Sleeping Over

Conflict Resolution

Forever

Our Song…(pt1)

…And Dance (pt2)

Movie Night

Because I Love You

Catching My Eye

Mixed Signals

Little Sister

Home Sick

I See…

Sleeping In

Not So Secret

Lights And Sounds

Inked

Flustered

As I Am

Nothing Like You

Deduction

Beauty And The Beast

Skin and Fabric

Eyes Up

Mistranslated

Not Yourself

Distracting

Lights Out

Inherently Perfect

Acquaintance (Talented Part 2)

Photo Shoot

Unexpected

Dirty Mind

Holding Tight

Forgetful

Carriages and Carousels

Leg Room

Height Difference

All Grown Up

Forced Into Goodness

Warm Snuggles

Visitor

Fearful

Dreams of Exhaustion

Check-Up (Part One)

The First Date (Check Up Part Two)

The Wedding (Check Up Part Three)

Decibels

Surprise Meeting

Not What They Expected

Crashed

She’s Yours

Near-Death Experience

Walk In The Park

Accidental Matrimony

Beauty

The Unexpected Gift

Rejection

Matthew Gray Gubler x Reader

Flirtatiousness

Say Yes

Red-Lipped

Coffee Break

He’s My Storybook

Stand Out In A Crowd

Protector

Bastille Day

Confessional

Surprise (A Little One Part 1)

Deception

Age Gap

Turnaround

Someday Soon

Shattered

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

My Mess

Picnic

Spencer Reid x OC

Used Books And Autumn Rain Chapter One (ReidxOC)

Used Books and Autumn Rain Chapter Two (ReidxOC)

Used Books and Autumn Rain Chapter Three (ReidxOC)

Used Books and Autumn Rain Chapter Four (ReidxOC)

Used Books and Autumn Rain Chapter Five (ReidxOC)

Used Books and Autumn Rain Chapter Six (Reid x OC)

Used Books and Autumn Rain Chapter Seven (Reid x OC)

Used Books and Autumn Rain Chapter Eight (Reid x OC)

Used Books and Autumn Rain Chapter Nine (Reid x OC)

HARRY POTTER

Wolfstar (Remus Lupin x Sirius Black)

Watching Remus Lupin Parts One and Two

Watching Remus Lupin Parts Three and Four

Watching Remus Lupin Parts Five and Six

Watching Remus Lupin Parts Seven and Eight

Watching Remus Lupin Parts Nine and Ten

Watching Remus Lupin Parts Eleven and Twelve

Watching Remus Lupin Parts Thirteen and Fourteen

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fandomskeepmeupatnight · 6 years

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THE

SCENE

THAT

KILLED

ALL

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fandomskeepmeupatnight · 6 years

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Can we just talk about how butthurt Peter is that Lara Jean didn’t sit with him on the way to the ski resort or that she wasn’t spending any time with him while they were there.

That poor baby had no chance. He was whipped over her LONG before he even knew. He was gone the minute he found out that he wasn’t the only receipent of her love letters. I want to know what Lara Jean wrote in that letter that made him feel like he was the only love of her life.

His reaction to her jumping him when they were talking about it in his truck was a little too overzealous which is why I wasn’t surprised that he wanted to be her “pretend” boyfriend. This is classic let’s pretend, but we become good friends then more than friends.

He might’ve still loved Gen right after they broke up, but he definitely also had feelings for Lara Jean. When Peter got jealous after he saw Lara Jean with Josh and when he tried to deflect after she confronted him about Gen, I knew that Peter realized he had feelings for Lara Jean.

It was confirmed when Lara Jean tried to break up with him before the ski trip and he wouldn’t let her. He deflected his own feelings for her to see if she felt the same way.

If we watch the scene when they were cleaning up the dishes from dinner with his family, I said then that it started to turn into something more. It wasn’t just the fact that they could talk to each other and relate about deeply personal and very hurtful events. It was their reactions to each other when the other complimented them about their listening skills. They both made that trying not to look like I’m too excited cause I just got a compliment face at the exact same time.

I think Peter may have had a thing for Lara Jean in middle school, but never told her. His gaze was on her and he was way too excited about kissing her. Even though she tried to spin the bottle again to try to cater to Gen’s feelings, he wouldn’t let her and went straight for the kiss.

That’s why I’m not at all surprised that Peter fell in love with Lara Jean. Plus they were never really on bad terms to begin with. They didn’t go from enemies to being in love. He always thought she was pretty, smart, could dress and assertive when she needed to be even though she was a bit shy.

It was like he picked the right one immediately even though he was still hurt over his former relationship. Lara Jean knew he wasn’t ready to be emotionally invested, but yet she still went along with the plan so that she could get over what she thought was being in love with Josh. Peter was always jealous of Josh from day one even before he came to Lara Jean with the pretend relationship idea. I could only imagine if Josh had gone on the ski trip what the dynamic would’ve been like.

Yes, Lara Jean missed some of the signs that Peter really did like her, but I also blame Peter because he kept blurring the lines of their fake relationship. One minute he was obsessing over Gen, the next we see him here all in his feelings about Lara Jean. I could tell he was truly hurt when she kept trying to break up with him and then when she actually did. I can’t count how many times he chased after her and kept wanting to explain himself to her. It’s not that he doesn’t take rejection well, it’s that he doesn’t like her upset with him at all.

The moment when she looked at him after she put her feet in the water, I knew he was a lost cause. The look on his face told exactly how bad he wanted her (not in a sexual way). She definitely surprised him by getting in the hot tub. I don’t think he knew she was that bold hence why he scooped her up so quickly to kiss her.

He had that post-sex glow when he was walking her to her room even though they didn’t have sex. He was giddy and completely cheesing all over himself especially every time he looked at her. He did the inevitable pull back kiss before letting her go into her room and made sure to watch her the whole time.

Yes, Peter can be complacent sometimes, but ultimately he is crazy in love with Lara Jean and truly wants to treat her right.

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