#Peter Parker x reader angst
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deathofacupid · 9 months ago
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right next door // part one | peter parker
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ahhhh new series!!
masterlist!
summary: you move in right next door to a cutie, problem is, he isn't much of a talker. or anything at all. but it's okay, because you're dead-set on getting him to warm up to you.
warnings: mean peter :(
pairing: peter parker x fem!bubbly!reader
word count: 1.9k+ words
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you scowled under your breath, absolutely frustrated.
“if you want us to take the boxes up to the fifth level, you’re going to have to pay us extra,” the man spoke, arms crossed. the movers you had hired looked to be twins, around the age of 30, perhaps? they had heavy accents and took you to be a gullible female if they believed that you’d pay an additional 25 dollars for that.
“look, i included the information about my flat being on the fifth floor, and despite having that knowledge, you took this job. i am not paying you extra, so how about you do this right, okay?” you scoffed in disbelief; you didn’t know that moving into a new apartment would be so difficult. all you wanted was for these insufferable men to take your stuff to your flat so you could finally relax.
finally breathe, because you hadn’t gotten any “you” time since you made the decision to move into a whole new state, which you were starting to regret now.
no, no, independence is always worth it.
probably.
either way, it was nice to get away from your overbearing parents that were currently all the way over in florida.
“lady, we don’t got all day, so either pay up, or-”
“i’ll take it from here,” a male voice interjected. you looked over to see a brunette, with honey-brown colored eyes and a perfectly sculpted face.
perfectly sculpted.
perfectly.
you’d seen him a couple times when checking out the building. he lived in e11, which was part of the reason you’d moved into e12, right next door. there wasn’t anything wrong with wanting a god for a neighbor, right?
that was a rhetorical question, of course there wasn’t anything wrong with it.
after poking around (begging your landlord for his name and room number), you found out that he was peter parker from e11.
you watched him walk over and raise an eyebrow at the men, who stood unmoving. “i said we got it from here.”
“you her boyfriend or something?”
“and what would it be to you?” peter adjusted his position to where his arms were crossed, shirt tight and muscles flexed.
okay, so it wasn't just his face that was perfectly sculpted.
the men exchanged eye contact and shook their heads, sighing. you stuck your tongue out at them, despite the fact they were already walking out the door, backs facing you.
you called out, “and that’s one star for you guys on yelp!”
brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, you looked back at peter, who was already picking up a box. “oh, hey, you don’t have to do that. i’m sure i’ll manage.”
“it’s okay. i don’t mean to underestimate your strength, but these boxes aren’t very light.”
“yes, but-… are you sure? i don’t want to burden you with this.”
he glanced at you, balancing a box on top of the one he was holding, “it’s no burden. unless you don’t want my help, which is a different story altogether.”
“uh, no, nothing like that,” you hesitated. he seemed very stoic, in no mood for small talk, or to converse in general. “but thanks for what you did. i didn’t need the help, i could have handled it on my own, but… um, thanks.”
“did you a favor,” he shrugged, “you weren’t really getting anywhere with that.”
you frowned at his bluntness, but bit back a retort. he was willing to help you, this complete stranger. and for that, you were grateful.
picking up one of the lighter boxes, you followed after him on the stairs. “so… um… i’m y/n. l/n,” you added after a second.
“peter parker,” was all he said, and you nodded as if you hadn’t previously known that.
“nice to meet you, peter.”
“what room do you live in?”
“e12.” you stopped yourself from adding right next to you.
“’kay.”
“what about you?”
“huh?”
“w-where do you live?”
“e11.”
“oh,” you smiled, as if you didn’t know that as well. “that’s so cool! we’re neighbors!”
“yay.”
it seemed like that was sarcastic, so you decided that it was best to maybe shut up. so that’s what you did.
after a while, you were able to get all your boxes (with peter doing most of the work). you stood in your flat with your hands on your hips as peter put the last box down. “seriously,” you breathed, “thank you so much. i have no idea what i’d do if you weren’t there.”
“negotiate with russian twins and get nowhere.”
you laughed nervously, unsure of whether or not that was a joke. “um, you can stay a little longer, if you’d like. or not. that’s fine, too.” you were hoping he’d stay, even though you literally had nothing for him to sit on. there was no furniture… but maybe he’d want to stay anyways?
“i’m good.”
“o-okay, peter. see you around?”
without another word, he slipped out of your apartment, shutting the door behind him.
you thought that moving in next to peter would make you a little less lonely, and maybe you’d make a new friend.
but perhaps your mother was right. what if you weren’t ready for all this?
new job, new home, new state… new everything.
you were all alone in the big city.
but- but it would be okay, you decided, shaking your head. “it’s fine. i can do this. i’m going to do this. today was a minor setback, which my mom doesn’t need to know about… and i need to make new friends before talking to myself becomes a habit.”
you stood in the middle of your flat, grinning. nothing was going to stop you from achieving your dream.
-
your new job at the daily bugle wasn't going to start for another week, so you had time to unpack and adjust. music blared from the speakers, helping you get into your new groove. you sang and danced around to it, laughing like a fool (you were sleep deprived).
you took the plastic wrapping off the couches and adjusted them to where you liked, with much struggle, of course. next came chairs and tables, and you were glad to get those out of the way. once you’d completed moving and unpacking some of the bigger things, you had gotten bored.
but, nevertheless, you still wanted to be productive. finally, you settled on decorating the living room. taking out pillows, throw blankets, and pictures, you put them all in their designated places.
in complete exhaustion, you tossed yourself onto your couch. “aw, crap, where i am gonna sleep tonight?” you groaned.
in hindsight, maybe you should’ve done the bedroom first. man, you were kind of a mess without your mother.
laying there, gazing up the bare ceiling, your thoughts drifted to peter. he was mean, but in a reserved way. like it wasn’t really to be mean, but more about how his personality was. “oh, well, i’ll just make him warm up to me.”
after all, you did need friends. so why not start with peter?
with a new task at hand, you jumped up, speeding towards the kitchen. you planned on making him cookies, after all, who didn’t like those? you preheated the oven… before realizing you had to unpack all your kitchen related items.
and you had to go shopping for ingredients.
you had some money to last you until a new paycheck, so you might as well spend it somehow. besides, this could be a way to get peter to like you.
not like that.
well, not yet.
first, you had to get him to be friends with you. no, scratch that. you had to go shopping first.
-
“you need butter to make cookies, right?” you asked yourself, glancing over to your cart that currently held milk, eggs, and flour in it. “oh! and sugar! …vanilla extract? why on earth haven’t i googled this yet?” shaking your head in dismay, you pulled out your phone, searching up what you needed.
“okay… so…chocolate chips. gah, how did i forget that? cornstarch, and salt,” you looked at the aisle you were in, pausing momentarily. after a second, you threw a pack of measuring spoons in. “obviously, you need chocolate chips for chocolate chip cookies!”
sighing, you glanced up, only to be met with the eyes of a bewildered woman. “um… sorry,” you mumbled sheepishly, forgetting you were in public.
seriously, you needed new friends. pronto.
you wheeled your cart to the checkout aisle and waited in line. looking up, you saw a masked figure on the television. you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and tilted your head, squinting to read the caption; “spider-man stops yet another robbery”.
“huh,” you murmured quietly. “spider-man.”
“mommm, isn’t he so cool?” turning your head, you saw a little boy pointing at the screen.
“what? yeah, he is,” she said, filing through her wallet.
you pulled your phone out of your back pocket, going into safari. the knit between your eyebrows hadn’t left as you tapped on the first news link, jjjnews.com.
spider-man, the masked menace.
you looked up and frowned. menace? you thought he was a hero, given the whole robbery thing. come to think of it, the name sounded familiar. “spider-man…” you hummed, testing it out once more.
whether he is in affiliation with the avengers, we do not know. the infamous spider-man, often referred to as the masked menace by his critics and opponents, raises an intriguing question: why does he feel the need to conceal his identity? what secrets is he keeping from us that drive him to hide behind a mask? could it be fear of exposure or perhaps a deeper motivational factor? but what drives him to conceal his true self from the world? what secrets lie beneath that mask, and what is he purposefully keeping hidden from those around him?
these questions continue to haunt not only the citizens of new york city, but also his closest allies. while spider-man is praised as a courageous crime-fighter, some question if there is more to his story than meets the eye. as a beloved hero or feared vigilante, the truth behind spider-man's persona remains a mystery waiting to be unraveled.
with the emergence of new heroes comes a surge in villains as well, and perhaps spider-man's presence only adds fuel to the fire. it is time for the authorities to take action against this dangerous masked figure before any more harm is done.
you pressed your lips together, and exited the app. that was enough of that, because as far as you knew, this guy sounded like a hater. this man, expecting no incentive at all, risked his life every day to keep others safe.
what more did people want, honestly?
seeing as it was your turn, you picked things up from the cart and set them down onto the checkout. pulling out your wallet, you inserted the chip in the credit card.
“that’ll be $37.50.”
“um, okay,” why was that more than you thought it’d be?
 yay, cookies, right?
somehow, you managed to make it home without crashing into someone, or someone crashing into you. you didn’t have a car yet, nor did you trust yourself with on here in nyc, so you took a taxi.
being completely honest, you were kind of excited about this. being more completely honest, you didn’t know how to bake. (or cook.)
but maybe it’d be okay. i mean, how hard was following instructions on a screen?
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cherrrydragon · 4 months ago
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➤ sweet
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read it on ao3
SUMMARY ↳ Peter Parker is sweet. The kind of sweet you can't get enough of. It kind of ruins your life. One day, during lunch, it’s the same as any other. You three are sitting together, not really eating your food, too focused on talking. Then, Peter speaks up, and it kind of throws off your whole existence. “Did Liz get a new top?” His face is resting on his hand as he stares at the girl. You’ve always thought Liz was pretty, and what makes that even more unfair is that she’s nice. She helped you find your way to your class on time, and you have a bad habit of being willing to die for people once they show you even the smallest amount of kindness. pairing: tom!peter parker x fem!reader warnings: just reader having to watch the person she loves not love her. so basically all of us with our fav fictional characters tags/notes: MAJOR pining on reader's side, (not actually) unrequited love, 7k of this is just straight yap my bad, happy ending! wc: 8.5k
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Peter Parker is a sweet boy.
He always has been. Even when people shunned him for no reason, he never shed that kind demeanor. He has remained unwaveringly gentle and compassionate.
Your first interaction with him is simply asking him for a pencil. You’ve just rushed into class, barely making it before the bell rang. As you fumble through your bag, you realize you forgot to pack a pencil. Hesitantly, you turn to the boy sitting next to you.
"Hey, uh, do you have an extra pencil I could borrow?" you ask, trying to sound casual.
Peter looks up from his notebook, his eyes meeting yours with a friendly, albeit slightly surprised, expression. He quickly reaches into his bag and hands you a pencil.
“Uh, yeah. here,” he smiled unsurely, handing you a pencil.
“Thanks,” you smile. You notice how he keeps his gaze on you for a moment before turning away.
The rest of the class goes by smoothly, thanks to Peter's pencil. As the teacher drones on, you can't help but sneak glances at Peter, noticing his focused expression as he takes notes diligently. There's something about him that draws you in—a quiet determination mixed with a genuine kindness.
When the bell rings, you suck in a breath and turn to him. “Hey,” you start, extending your hand holding his pencil. “Thanks for letting me borrow it.”
Peter takes the pencil, his fingers brushing against yours. “Uh, yeah. Yeah! No problem.” You think the way he stumbles over words is pretty cute.
Time to be bold. Go for it, [Name]! “Can I sit with you at lunch?”
Peter's eyes widen slightly, caught off guard by your request. He hesitates for a moment, then nods with a shy smile. “I just, I don’t really sit with anyone and you seem nice so–”
“Yes,” he blurts out, wide-eyed. “That’s cool.”
You feel a mix of relief and excitement. “Okay, see you then?”
He nods, a little late. You smile and walk off to your next class, feeling buzzy. You really are looking forward to knowing Peter.
You didn’t really notice him before. He was always in the background, never too far but never too close. He was just a boy you didn’t know, but knew of. But you saw, saw how he was always there, saw how he held the door open for others, saw how he kept his head down and never bothered anyone.
As you anticipate lunch, you imagine conversations, shared laughs, and maybe even a little bit of awkwardness, but in the best way possible. The anticipation grew with each passing period.
Woah, maybe you’re getting ahead of yourself. He might think you’re, like, weird. You really hope he doesn’t.
As lunch finally approaches, you gather your things and head to the cafeteria, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. You scan the room, looking for Peter, and spot him sitting not alone at a table near the window. There’s a boy next to him. His friend probably (who else would it be?). Taking a deep breath, you make your way over.
"Hey, Peter," you greet with a smile as you reach his table.
Peter looks up from his tray, his eyes lighting up when he sees you. "Hey," he responds, a bit more confidently than before.
You turn your attention over to his friend, who is looking at Peter, a bit surprised. “Hello.”
“Hey,” he greets you, discreetly elbowing Peter. “I’m Ned.”
“[Name],” you say.
“Why are you sitting here?” he asks bluntly. You blink at the abruptness of it as Peter hisses, “Ned!”
“Uh,” you stutter, suddenly feeling out of place. “I can go if you want–”
“No!” yelps Peter. “He’s just being stupid. What he means is that, well, we don’t really have any friends. But we’d–” he spares a subtle glare at Ned, “–like to be yours. If that’s what you want.” 
His eyes bore into yours earnestly. “Please stay.”
You pause for a moment, processing Peter's earnest plea. Ned looks a bit sheepish now, realizing his bluntness may have come off the wrong way. You glance between them and smile, feeling your nerves ease a bit.
The three of you start chatting, and you quickly find yourself laughing at their silly and nerdy jokes. You learn Peter is really into science and chemistry.
“You know Peter has an internship at Stark Industries?” says Ned, leaning in.
Peter stares at Ned hard. “Oh, really?” you hum.
Peter quickly tries to downplay it, waving his hand dismissively. "It's not a big deal, really. Just a lot of organizing and data entry," he says, clearly trying to stay humble.
You shrug. “I think it’s cool.” You do, you’re impressed.
A hint of a smile crawls on Peter’s face.
When the bell rings, signaling the end of lunch, you feel a pang of disappointment. But Peter looks at you with a hopeful expression. "Um, do you want to sit with us again tomorrow?"
You stare at him earnestly. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”
“Okay,” he nods, more so to himself. “See you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow.”
From then on, you become a part of their group, officially Peter’s friend. You learn that Peter is not just smart, but also incredibly kind-hearted. He always goes out of his way to help others, even if it means sacrificing his own time. The bond between you strengthens, and soon you're sharing inside jokes and stories about your classes.
You somehow manage to land yourself a spot on the Academic Decathlon (no, not because Peter’s on the team). But, to be honest, you wouldn’t have tried if not for him. You’ve never considered yourself all that smart, you don’t really try that hard in school. Peter says you’re ‘naturally smart.’ You never gave it much thought, but a compliment from him makes you happy.
“You got this,” Peter assures you before every practice.
One day, during lunch, it’s the same as any other. You three are sitting together, not really eating your food, too focused on talking. Then, Peter speaks up, and it kind of throws off your whole existence.
“Did Liz get a new top?” His face is resting on his hand as he stares at the girl. You’ve always thought Liz was pretty, and what makes that even more unfair is that she’s nice. She helped you find your way to your class on time, and you have a bad habit of being willing to die for people once they show you even the smallest amount of kindness.
“No. We’ve seen that before, but never with that skirt,” replies Ned.
Liz waves at a couple of girls that greet her. You think her voice is pretty.
“We should probably stop staring before it gets creepy though,” notes Peter, still looking at her.
“Too late,” comes a voice at the end of the table. A girl, unbothered and doing her own thing. Oh, that’s MJ. “You guys are losers,” she says, unapologetic. “Except for [Name]. Hi, [Name].”
You wave at her. “Hi, MJ.”
Peter raises his hand in confusion, looking at you for answers. You shrug, not having any. That’s just how MJ is.
“Well, then why do you sit with us?” asks Ned.
MJ flicks her hair out of her face. “Because I don’t have any friends.”
And ain’t that the truth.
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“Let’s move to the next question,” hums Liz, flicking through index cards. “What is the heaviest naturally-occurring element?”
You’re not really paying much attention to practice, even though you really should be. You’re too busy staring at Peter.
“Peter, it’s nationals,” you hear. “Is there now way you could take one weekend off?”
Wait, Peter’s not going to nationals?
“I can’t go to Washington. If Mr. Stark needs me, I have to make sure I’m here.” Well, you do like a man who has his priorities straight.
“You’ve never even been in the same room as Tony Stark,” says Flash, doing absolutely jack shit across the room. His voice grates your ears.
“Wait, what’s happening?”
“Peter’s not going to Washington.”
“No, no, no, no.” Felt that.
“Really? Right before Nationals?” asks Liz, wincing at him disapprovingly.
“He already quit marching band and robotics lab,” hums MJ, reading her book. Your fellow members turn to look at her. You know that, but why does she? “I’m not obsessed with him. Just very observant.” Well, you are obsessed with him. Just a little. A healthy amount.
Liz says something to Flash, and at the mention of him you automatically zone him out. You spend the time staring at Peter, who briefly glances at you before looking behind him at the ticking clock.
The rest of the day he’s tapping his fingers against the desk and moving his leg up and down. You barely manage to catch him at the door before he runs off. Peter looks at you, momentarily startled as you catch up to him. He gives you a quick smile, though you can tell his mind is elsewhere.
“Peter,” you say, frowning slightly. “Why aren’t you coming?”
He shrugs, trying to appear casual. “You know already, [Name]. The internship is really important. I gotta be ready at any time.”
“Tony Stark can’t spare you one day?” You raise a brow at him. “I think that goes against some kind of labor law.”
Peter furrows his brows, taken aback. “No, it’s not like that,” he defends quickly, shifting uncomfortably. “Mr. Stark… relies on me. I don’t wanna let him down.”
You give him a sympathetic look. “You’re really smart, Peter. There’s no way that’s possible.”
His gaze softens, smiling secretly to himself. You lightly punch his shoulder, and he gives you a mock offended look. “You’re the whole reason I even joined, and now you’re bailing on the most important day? Fake friends, I swear.” You’re mostly joking, it’s not that big of a deal. But you still would’ve liked him to be there with you.
He chuckles softly, rubbing the spots you hit him (dramatic, you barely touched him). “You’re smart, [Name]. You don’t need me.”
Yeah, you don’t need him, but you want him.
He grabs your hand and squeezes it tightly, briefly, before turning and walking away. “I’ll make it up to you, promise!”
Your heart skips a beat, at both his gesture and his words. “Okay,” you say softly, knowing he’s already gone.
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“Hi. I’m Captain America. Whether you’re in the classroom or on the battlefield…”
You wonder how they convinced this guy to stand in front of a camera and yap to a bunch of high schoolers who just simply don’t care. Peter and Ned are mumbling about something, too hushed for you to hear.
“Isn’t he like a war criminal, now?” you mutter. Peter leans in to you to hear better.
He chuckles softly, breath tickling your ear. His proximity sends a warm shiver down your spine. “Sucks, he’s kind of cute.”
Peter chokes, looking at you in surprise. “In, like, a celebrity crush kind of way,” you shrug.
Peter’s face flushes a soft pink, and he clears his throat, trying to regain his composure. “Yeah, um, I guess? I didn’t think you’d like older guys…?” He trails off, fumbling with his fingers. His awkwardness only makes him more endearing.
Ned snickers beside him. “You’re not wrong. Captain America’s got that whole classic charm thing going on.”
Peter shoots him a look. “Dude.”
It’s only natural you and MJ pair up for the exercises. Though, to be fair, you’re not really doing much exercising. Instead, you’re too busy ogling Peter.
“You’re down horrendously bad,” says MJ, unapologetic.
You blink, looking down at her. “Huh.”
“You know what I’m talking about.” She looks unimpressed by your attempt to seem unaware.
The way Peter effortlessly does pull-ups is doing something to you, and it’s really embarrassing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, you do,” she snorts. You watch as Peter flicks his attention over to… Liz. Always Liz. Never you.
“Is he staring at her again?” MJ asks, looking over. Your heart sinks a little.
“Doesn’t matter,” you mutter. “He’s just my friend.”
MJ raises an eyebrow, studying you for a moment before shrugging. “If you say so.”
“Peter knows Spider-Man!”
The entire gym looks over at Ned and Peter. Um. What was that, Ned? Peter gets up, sputtering and denying Ned’s claim.
“They’re friends,” says Ned.
“Yeah, like Coach Wilson and Captain America are friends.” Your nose scrunches up at Flash’s words. MJ catches it and nods her approval.
Peter glances around nervously, his eyes meeting yours for a split second before darting away. You feel bad for him, even if he doesn’t have need for anyone’s pity. Peter is cool, and really smart. He’s also really cute, and he bites his lip when he’s focused on something. He can’t sit still for very long, and he has a bad habit of running his fingers through his hair when–
Yikes, girl. Focus.
Wait, Liz’s party?
“Yeah, I’m having people over tonight. You’re more than welcome to come,” she nods, demeanor kind of shy.
“Having a party?” Peter’s voice is breathy, and it makes your fingers clench.
The bell rings before Peter can decline (or accept, because why would he ever decline?) and Liz spares him a look as she walks away. Peter looks up at the ceiling in frustration, turning to Ned to snarl something at him.
Probably upset because Flash made fun of him in front of the girl he likes, you think miserably.
You help MJ up off the floor, waving her goodbye as she leaves. Your legs are barely able to talk you towards the door, wanting to go over to Peter. You can’t take your eyes off him, but you know you have to, so you tear them away and walk out.
As you walk away, you can't help but feel a mixture of emotions swirling inside you. Peter's feelings for Liz are clear, but you can't deny your own growing affection for him.
“[Name]!” Peter’s voice is very recognizable (to you at least). You hear his footsteps rush over, coming to a stop by your side. You turn to face him, your heart pounding. "Hey, Peter," you say, trying to sound casual.
He looks at you, his expression a mix of frustration and something else you can't quite place. "Hey, uh, I just wanted to say... about what Ned said earlier. I mean, he's just being, you know, Ned."
You nod. “It’s okay Peter, I think it’s cool you know Spider-Man.” Everything about him is cool.
Peter’s eyes widen slightly at your words. "Really? You do?" He seems both relieved and surprised by your reaction. He crosses his arms, trying to seem casual. “And, uh… what do you think about Spider-Man?”
Peter's question catches you off guard. You stare at him, a bit taken aback by his curiosity. “Well, I think he’s a hero,” you shrug. “Reliable.”
Peter kind of… stares. In awe of you. Then he snaps out of it, cheeks flushing as he looks down.
He clears his throat, changing the subject. “So, uh… you going to Liz’s party?”
You hadn't considered it, but the idea of spending more time with Peter, even if Liz is there, is tempting. Even so…
You purse your lips. “Probably not.”
He furrows his brows. “What? Who am I gonna go with?”
You snort. “Ned? Who else?”
“You.” He says it so absolutely it almost makes you fall to your knees. The idea is both thrilling and a bit nerve-wracking. The last thing you want is to feel out of place at a party, especially with your growing feelings for Peter.
“You want me to go with you?” you ask, trying to sound nonchalant even though your heart is racing.
Peter nods earnestly, his gaze locking onto yours. “Yeah. I mean, if you’re up for it. It’d be… nice.”
“I’ll… think about it.”
Peter’s face brightens up instantly, a mixture of relief and excitement evident. “Ok. Cool! I’ll, um. Hope to see you there.” And then he’s off to do his own thing.
When you arrive at Liz's house, you immediately spot MJ, and it puts your mind at ease. She’s in her own world, happy to snack on the foods there. She looks up as you approach.
“Sup.”
“Hi.”
You stand together awkwardly. Well, you’re awkward, and she’s cool. The party is in full swing, with music playing and people milling about, making the large living room feel even more crowded.
It’s embarrassing how fast you spot Peter. It’s as soon as he arrives. He’s decided to keep it casual, but you think he looks good. Really good. God, MJ was right, you are down bad.
Speaking of which, she nudges you and nods her head in Peter and Ned’s direction. “You should go say hi to him.”
“But…” Liz is there. To be fair, she’s probably only greeting them. Saying ‘thanks for coming’ you know. But even so… you’re not sure you want to watch Peter’s attention stay on Liz when you’re also there.
You take a deep breath and muster up the courage to approach Peter. MJ gives you a supportive nod, and you make your way over to them.
“Hi, Peter,” you greet, trying to sound casual despite the fluttering in your chest.
Peter turns to you, his face lighting up with a genuine smile that makes your stomach flip. “[Name]! You’re here.” His eyes are warm and welcoming, and for a moment, you forget about the rest of the party.
You nod, peering around him to greet Ned. “Hi, Ned.”
He gives you a small wave. “Hey, [Name].”
Peter's smile widens as he steps a little closer to you, clearly excited that you're there. His eyes roam your figure. “You look good.”
Your face warms. “Thanks. You too.”
“Dude. Peter,” says Ned, grabbing Peter’s arm. He begins to pull Peter away. “Sorry, [Name]. Gotta talk to him about something.” Peter looks affronted by Ned’s behavior, sending an apologetic glance your way.
You watch as Peter and Ned head off to the side, leaving you standing by yourself. A little awkwardly, you try to blend in with the crowd, scanning the room.
“Penis Parker, what’s up?”
Ugh, Flash. Who let him on the sound desk? He says a few mocking words, and suddenly Peter’s walking off somewhere.
You jog to catch up to him. “Peter, please don’t listen to Flash. He’s just an asshole.”
Peter stops in his tracks, looking back at you with a mixture of surprise and frustration. He opens his mouth to say something, but then closes it, clearly struggling to find the right words.
“[Name],” he starts, voice honey sweet, “I’m not worried about Flash, I just…” He looks around for a moment, searching for whatever words he wants to say. “I gotta go do something. I’ll be back.”
You watch as Peter rushes out of the house, deflated. You feel a mixture of concern and confusion. The party goes on as if nothing happened, but your thoughts are entirely focused on him.
In a moment of impulsiveness, you decide to follow him. The cool night air hits you as you step out onto the porch, scanning the surroundings for any sign of Peter. Damn, where did he go? He’s fast. You walk down the front steps, glancing around. “Peter!” you call out, trying to catch his attention.
A movement catches your eye. Around the side of the house, on top of the neighboring ledge, there’s someone there. Your ears can barely pick up the rustling of clothes. Weird place to change clothes. How the hell did that guy even up there?
Wait a damn minute.
That guy is Peter. How the hell did he get up there so damn quick?
You keep yourself pressed against the wall, peeking around the corner. Why the hell is Peter even changing his clothes? He looks fine. Good, even. Wait, he’s changing his clothes. Maybe you shouldn't be spying on him, that’s weird. Oh, wait, he’s wearing something underneath. Something red and black, with web patterns on and a spider symbol on his chest.
Oh. Oh!
What the fuck!
As Peter pulls his undershirt off, you get a glimpse of him in his full Spider-Man glory. Holy shit, Peter Parker is Spider-Man. You knew there was something special about him, but this? This is a whole different level. The red and black suit, with its sleek, form-fitting design, is unmistakable. The spider emblem on his chest is a dead giveaway.
You swallow down the knot in your throat, willing your body to turn and go back inside.
He doesn’t come back.
You leave when Flash starts his ‘when I say Penis, you say Parker’ chant.
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The yellow blazer feels tacky, but you’re required to wear it as part of the Academic Decathlon. Though, MJ isn’t wearing hers, so maybe you can get away with taking it off until you get to D.C.. But MJ is MJ.
“Hey, it’s Peter!”
What.
You turn around, seeing Peter run up to your group. Peter’s face is bright with excitement as he approaches your group. His usual nervousness is replaced by an eagerness you haven’t seen before. It’s like a different side of him is on display.
“I was hoping I could rejoin the team,” he says, looking at Liz.
And he’s welcomed back with open arms. He decides to sit next to you. You’re pretty sure because it’s closest to Liz, and because Ned has decided to sit in the back. You wonder if Ned knows his identity.
He nudges you with his arm. You’re snapped back to reality, looking at him. He’s staring at you, brows furrowed just the smallest bit. You feel your traitorous heart skip a beat, like it always does when he’s around.
“You okay? You’re quiet,” he murmurs, voice low.
You manage to nod, not having much to say. Are you mad that Peter kept this secret from you? No, of course not. There was never any obligation for him to tell you, or even anyone. It’s a pretty big secret to have, after all. Though, now you wonder if him being Spider-Man has something to do with that Stark internship…
Peter’s eyes linger on you, a mix of concern and curiosity. You can sense he’s trying to gauge how you’re feeling. It’s a little uncomfortable, you’ve never really had to lie to him before, and you’re not sure if you’ll be able to. You’ve just discovered one of the biggest secrets in your life, and it’s about someone who’s become so important to you.
His phone starts ringing. You peak at it, someone by the name of ‘Happy’. Weird name, but okay. He moves to the back of the bus to take, settling in next to Ned.
You sigh, slouching in your seat. You can’t believe your life.
At least you get to room with MJ. You’re just about to fall asleep when Liz comes knocking on your door, saying that she and the rest of the team are going to sneak down to the pool. MJ decides she’s going to come. For ‘enrichment’ she says. You on the other hand… kind of just want to stay inside right now.
Until another knock on your door rouses you from your would-be sleep. Again . You grumble as you make your way to your door, opening it to find Peter, his face a mix of uncertainty and hopefulness. “Hey,” he says, looking nervous. His hood is over his head. You think he’s got his suit under there.
You don’t bother trying to fix up your appearance since you truly doubt he doesn’t see you like that. “Hello?”
“Uh,” he mumbles, gesturing away from him. “You… weren’t with the others. Are you not going to go with them? To the pool?
You shake your head. “No, not feeling it.”
“Oh,” he nods, like it was obvious. “Are you, sick or something?”
“No.” You don’t mean to be blunt with him, but you don’t really know how to act around him anymore.
“Oh, Okay.” He shifts back and forth on his feet. “Can I come in?”
You open the door wider to let him in, never able to say no to him. Peter steps are hesitant and awkward, deciding to sit on the leaning against your bed, while you sit on the mattress.
“So..?” you prompt.
Peter licks his lips, looking down to fiddle with the hem of his hoodie. “I, um, wanted to talk. About... the party. Liz’s party.” For a moment, your heart races. Did he know you were there? He glances up, his gaze meeting yours with a mix of vulnerability and determination. “I didn’t mean to, uh, leave you hanging. I just... had to go take care of something.”
You nod, understanding differently to what he knows. “It’s okay, Peter. I get it. I mean, you had... you had something important to do.”
Peter takes a deep breath, clearly relieved by your reaction. “I just... I didn’t want you to think I was avoiding you or anything. I shouldn’t have left you hanging like that.”
Peter’s earnestness tugs at your chest. He’s going to give you a damn sweet tooth. You can’t help but feel a mix of admiration and frustration. “Peter, it’s fine,” you say softly. “You don’t owe me any explanations.”
He shakes his head, his expression earnest. “But I do. I care about you, and I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings between us.”
Your heart skips another traitorous beat at his words. His sincerity is disarming, and you find yourself wanting to reassure him, even though you’re the one grappling with this newfound knowledge about his double life. Why does he have to say things like that?
“Are you not going to the pool?” you ask, gesturing to his get-up.
He scratches his cheek, shaking his head. “No I… gotta… do something.” His voice gets quieter the more he speaks, realizing he’s just quoted the very thing he just apologized for. You snort, unable to help yourself in reaching out a brushing a curl away from his face. His eyes soften, and he reaches out, tentatively taking your hand.
Your fingers brush against his, and there's a moment of silence as you both just look at each other. Peter’s grip is gentle, as if he's afraid of pushing too much, too soon. You feel the warmth of his hand, and for a second, you forget about the secrets and the confusion.
After a moment, Peter clears his throat, his expression shifting back to a more familiar, awkward smile. You snap back to reality. “You should, uh, probably go do that thing.”
He nods, not meeting your eyes. “Yup. Gonna go do that thing now.”
He’s out the door before you can blink.
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Peter doesn’t come back in time for the Academic Decathlon. MJ wins you the last point, anyway.
You’re just out of earshot as Ned talks to what you assume is Peter on the phone. You look away when Liz takes the phone and begins to speak to him.
Your coach decides it’ll be fun to have a tour of the Washington Monument. You zone out during the long elevator ride, thoughts drifting to Peter. Always Peter. You wonder if you were his girlfriend, would he look to you to patch him up when patrol gets rough? Would he take you away, swinging through the night while he tells you how pretty you look–
There’s a bright light, and everything goes deafening as a loud sound explodes within the elevator. Everything comes to a stop. Ned throws his backpack on the ground, frightened.
“Oh my God. Look at the ceiling.” There’s terrifying scorch marks on it.
“Just stay calm, everyone.”
“Oh, we are all going to die here.”
You don’t listen to anymore of what anyone has to say, too focused on steadying yourself against the wall. Holy shit. Peter better be hauling ass back here, now .
Security pushes the failing doors open, and the elevator hatch is opened as your group is prepared for evacuation. It’s a scary process, and you feel like you’re just waiting for the elevator to give up and start plummeting.
Flash, always an asshole, shoves Liz out of the way, taking the trophy with him. You scoff in disbelief as he says, “Take my trophy!” ready to give him a piece of your mind, because by God, you are in a life or death situation and he still finds the time of day to be himself–
Speaking of death.
The elevator just gave up.
You are actively falling to your resting place right now.
You can’t hear anything over the sound of everybody else’s scream. You can’t even bring yourself to scream. Even as you’re about to die, you hold yourself back, just as you always have. You’ve held yourself back when it comes to school, not putting in as much effort as you could’ve, and you’ve held yourself back from telling Peter how you feel.
Now you’ll never get too.
Except the elevator jerks to a stop, almost sending you to the floor.
There’s a web attached to the top. You can barely see a red clad figure connected to it.
Nevermind, maybe you will get to.
And then the doors he’s held up against break off the hinges and you’re falling again, spider included like a package deal. The damned box catches itself on something, and the love of your life has a rough landing as he falls into the elevator with you. Oof.
Unfortunately his impact knocks the elevator off, and you’re falling. Again. If you make it out of this alive, you’re going to take a five year nap. Peter, with all of his amazing smarts, sends a web to the top of the shaft and plants himself upside down in the elevator, stopping the thing.
He clears his throat. “Hey, how you doing? Don’t worry. I got you.” Why do you love this loser.
You stand with your whole body tense as Peter makes the perilous journey of dragging your group back up, slowly and steadily. You’re gripping the handrail so tightly your knuckles turn white. Every jolt and creak of the elevator feels like a death sentence. But Peter – no, Spider-Man – is pulling you up, inch by inch.
Ned is out first, then Mr. Harrington, and Liz clutches your hand tightly as it’s just the two of you left.
But then the floor shoots out from under your feet. Liz, ever so pretty and ever so brave, jumps out, reaching a hand for Spider-Man.
She misses, and for a split second it’s just you and her falling. And then there’s a thwip sound and suddenly you’re not falling. You’re just hanging. Hanging by a thread. Or a web, you should say.
“You’re okay. You’re okay.” It’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.
Spider-Man grips Liz’s hand so tight and so assuredly, you feel like everything’s okay. Liz’s hand feels warm. Really warm. Probably all the sweat from it.
The sweat from it.
Sweat that’s making your grip come loose.
Liz looks down, terrified. “She’s slipping.”
“What–” chokes Peter.
And your hand falls from her grip. This time, you let yourself scream. The mask Peter wears gets tinier and tinier as you fall. The sensation of free-fall is overwhelming. It’s like you’re completely weightless. You wonder if this is how Peter feels when he’s swinging through New York. You also wonder he ever feels the twisting of your stomach.
You feel something wrap around your waist tightly. You’re yanked back up with a sharp tug. The warmth of an arm is something you’re not all that foreign to. You’ve been hugged by your family and friends before. But not like this. It… kind of feels like home.
“I got you, [Name].” Is whispered in your ear like a prayer. “I won’t let you fall.”
Peter’s voice in your ear is like a lifeline, pulling you out of the chaos and fear. The sheer relief of his presence makes your heart pound in your chest. You cling to him, arms wrapped tightly around his neck as he swings you both out of the elevator shaft and onto the relative safety of the doorway.
You can hear the panicked voices of your friends, but all you can focus on is Peter, his breath coming in quick gasps, his suit slightly torn but his grip on you unyielding. 
“Are you okay?” he asks, voice trembling slightly.
You can only nod, your throat too tight with emotion to speak. Tears blur your vision as you look at him, your best friend, your hero, the boy you've been in love with for so long.
"You saved me," you whisper, your voice breaking.
Peter tilts his head, voice  a little wobbly but genuine. "Couldn't let you fall," he says simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
He gently lets go of you, leaving you to connect back to the real world again.
“So, uh, is everyone okay?” And just like that, things go back to the way they were.
Then the piece of metal he’s hanging upside-down from breaks off, and he’s falling down the shaft.
He’ll be fine.
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The school news plays on a nearby team, retelling the events in which you almost died. Weird flex, but okay.
You’re on your way to your next class when arms suddenly wrap around you. You blink. Uh…
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” says a sweet voice. Ah, Peter. Who else but Peter? You smile and melt into his embrace. “Hi, Peter.”
He pulls back slightly, his eyes scanning your face as if checking for any hidden injuries. “You sure you’re alright? That was... intense.”
You shrug. “Yeah.” Then, you feel like being mean. Only a little bit. As a treat. “How would you know, though? You weren’t there.”
Peter’s eyes widen in confusion, a frown pulling at his lips. “What do you mean? I was there. I–” Then he stops himself. He was there, just not as Peter. You raise a brow.
Peter’s face goes through a series of expressions—confusion, realization, and finally, a nervous chuckle. “Oh. Right.” He scratches the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I just–”
You roll your eyes halfheartedly. “Had to do that thing, I know.” Maybe you’d be more upset if you didn’t know any better, but you do. Maybe you’re just tired from everything.
Peter’s apology falters as he looks at you with those big, apologetic eyes. He seems so earnest, so genuinely concerned. He gives you those puppy dog eyes, filled with guilt and embarrassment.
“Look,” you say, taking a deep breath to steady yourself, “it’s fine. Really. I’m just glad you’re not hurt.”
“Come on,” he whines halfheartedly. “Let me make it up to you.”
You look at Peter, a mix of exhaustion and affection in your eyes. Despite everything that happened, you can’t help but find his earnestness endearing. “Alright,” you say, managing a small smile. “Here’s my proposal.”
Peter's eyes light up with a hopeful glimmer, and he leans in closer, eager to hear your proposal. You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the day lifting off your shoulders as you prepare to make your request.
“If neither of us get a homecoming date,” you begin, watching as Peter’s eyes flick back and forth between yours, “we’ll go together.”
Peter's eyes widen with surprise and a hint of nervousness. For a moment, he seems lost in thought, processing your proposal. He takes a deep breath, as if trying to steady his racing heart, and then he nods with a flushed face.
"Deal," he says, his voice steadying. "But let's hope neither of us ends up dateless, okay? I mean, it's homecoming. It should be fun."
His words kind of sting. He basically just said he hopes he can find a date that’s not you. You’re not sure if the fact that he’s willing to go with you if things don’t work out is a good thing or not.
“Yeah, let’s hope,” you reply, trying to keep your tone light. Peter gives you a reassuring smile, though there’s an awkward tension between you now.
“Parker, my office.”
Peter looks at you exasperated. You shrug. Looks like Peter has detention.
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The next couple of days, Peter looks down in the dumps.
He just seems… less like himself. Still as sweet as ever, holding doors open for you and carrying your bag. It’s hard to miss the way his usual enthusiasm is replaced by a constant air of melancholy.
You notice him moping in the hallways, his usual banter replaced by awkward silences. In class, he doesn’t seem any different, but you can tell the way he zones out when he’s not answering a question.
You try to give him space, but it’s hard to ignore the sense of worry you feel. You don’t want to pry, but you also don’t want him to sink into a deeper funk. Perhaps it’s in your nature to want to make him happy.
May greets you with a smile when she sees you on your doorstep. She’s always been kind to you. Maybe too kind. May always let little teasing comments about you too getting together slip. Peter always waved away her comments, chuckling awkwardly and saying ‘she’s just kidding’. Not very healthy for your heart.
Peter’s sitting on his bed, lost in thought. He jerks up as soon as you enter, staring at you in surprise. “[Name]!”
“Hi,” you greet, coming to sit next to him.
“What are you doing here?”
“Well, I can leave if you want,” you hum, point a thumb out the door. It’s mostly a joke, you really hope he doesn’t actually want you to leave.
Peter looks a bit flustered by your presence. “No, no, don’t go. I just… didn’t know you were coming.”
You lean back on your hands. “Well, when you’ve been acting weird the last couple of days, I’m gonna get worried.”
Peter slumps in on himself, sighing. He contemplates for a second before meeting your eyes. “I lost the internship.”
The internship. The Stark internship. The one you’re pretty sure is a cover for him being Spider-Man. Who hasn’t been active in a couple of days. Oh.
You give him a sympathetic look. “Peter, I’m so sorry.”
Peter nods, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Yeah, well, it’s my own fault. I was… I messed up. Tried to overcompensate, and it didn’t work out.”
You can see the frustration and disappointment in his eyes. He’s always been so driven, so dedicated. To see him like this, struggling with something that clearly matters to him, tugs at your heartstrings.
“It’s not your fault,” you say gently, trying to offer him some comfort. “Sometimes things just don’t go as planned, no matter how hard you try.”
Peter offers a small, bitter smile. “I guess. It’s just… I don’t know.” He looks in a faraway corner. “It was all I had.”
You purse your lips, wanting to scream ‘you have me!’, but you can’t bring yourself to.
Peter clears his throat. “At least I got that date with Liz.”
…Huh?
You think there’s a ringing in your ears. Your heart sinks as Peter mentions Liz. It feels like a punch to the gut. You try to mask your surprise, keeping your tone steady. "Wait, you got a date with Liz?"
“Yeah…” he chuckles shyly. “I asked her to homecoming. She said yes.”
You nod slowly, trying to process this new information. It's not exactly a blow to your heart, but it's definitely unsettling. Peter, the person you’ve had feelings for, is going out with someone else.
Though, you shouldn’t be surprised, really. You knew Peter liked Liz. If the way he stared at her wasn’t obvious enough, then the fact that he asked her to hoco is. And the fact that she said yes… God, you need to get over yourself. It’s not the end of the world. You just…
You really wanted to go with him.
“So… who’s your date?” he asks, oblivious to your inner turmoil.
You bring your legs up, wrapping your arms around them. “Nobody. I think… I’m not gonna go.”
Peter’s face falls at your words. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but then closes it, clearly at a loss for words. “Why not?”
You shrug. “I don’t have a date. Don’t wanna go alone.”
He furrows his brows. “I thought you did.”
Now it’s your turn to look confused. “No. Why did you think that?”
“You…” he trails off, looking lost. “I heard you. Talking about your crush”
“When did you hear that?”
He gulps, turning away guiltily. “In. Gym… class.”
You take a moment to think back. The only time you ever talked about your crush in gym was with MJ, that time Ned mentioned Peter knows Spider-Man. But that time…
“How did you hear that?” you ask, kind of knowing the answer. “You were, like, twenty feet away from me.”
He blushes. “I, uh… have really good hearing?”
You squeeze your eyes shut. Whatever. At least you didn’t mention Peter’s name. “Yeah, well, he doesn’t like me back. So.”
Peter’s face softens as he processes your words, a mixture of guilt and concern evident in his expression. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly.
“Don’t be. He likes someone else. Can’t be helped.”
Peter is silent for a moment, his eyes searching your face as if trying to gauge your feelings. There’s a tension in the air, a weight that seems to hang between you. He opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out.
You breathe, patting your thighs as you stand up. “Hope you have fun, though.”
Peter watches you go, feeling like he missed something.
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True to your word, you don’t go to homecoming. You spend the night watching a movie and eating popcorn. You don’t cry, but you do sniffle.
You catch wind of the battle between this guy (Liz’s dad , holy shit, you hope she’s doing okay) and Spider-Man. The next time you see him at school, you run up to him.
“Peter!” you shout.
Peter snaps out of his thoughts, turning to you. A small smile creeps up on his face at the sight of you. “Hey, what’s up–”
His words stutter to a stop as your arms wrap around him. Peter freezes for a moment, clearly taken aback by your sudden hug. Slowly, his arms come up to return the embrace, holding you tightly. He feels warm and solid against you, a comforting presence despite everything that's happened.
“What’s wrong?” he asks softly.
You melt into his embrace. “Just glad you’re okay.”
He pulls back to look at you, arms dropping to hang around your waist. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
You can’t help yourself, cupping his cheek gently. Peter's eyes widen slightly at the tenderness of your touch. For a moment, he just stares at you, as if trying to decipher the reason behind your concern. He ever so slightly leans into your hand, doe eyes looking into you.
“You’ve just… been through a lot lately,” you decide to say.
Peter takes a deep breath, his gaze dropping to your hands resting on his cheek. He seems to be grappling with his emotions, his usual composure wavering. “I didn’t realize you were so concerned,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.
You smile gently, brushing your thumb across his cheek. “Of course I am. You’re important to me, Peter.”
Peter’s mouth opens and closes, unable to form words. He gulps, shifting on his feet. The tension in the air is thicker than it’s ever been, though you can’t tell why.
Peter thinks he just had an epiphany.
He takes a deep breath, hands on your waist tightening. “Hey, um. Can I… can we talk later? After school?”
You nod. “Yeah, of course.”
Peter nods as well. “Cool, cool.” His hands fall from your waist when his phone buzzes, and you finally feel like you can breathe. “I gotta take this,” he says, already walking away from you.
Peter texts you before the last bell rings, saying that something came up and if you can push your talk a few hours ahead. Your fingers shake as you type out your reply agreeing. You do your homework in silence, foot tapping up and down nervously. The sun is on the cusp of setting when there’s a knock on your door.
“Hey,” Peter greets you when you open it. He looks out of breath, like he just ran here.
“Hey,” you respond, trying to keep your voice steady.
Peter shifts nervously on his feet, glancing around before focusing on you. “You’re parents home?”
You raise a brow. “No..?”
“Good.” He moves past you, making his way to your living room. You close the door and follow him, heart pounding in your chest. Peter paces for a moment before taking a deep breath and turning to face you.
“I,” he starts, voice unsteady, “have been doing a lot of thinking.”
You remain silent, waiting for him to continue. Peter runs a hand through his hair, clearly struggling to find the right words. “I’ve been focused on the wrong things. I know I haven’t really… been there. So, I’m sorry for that.” He wrings his hands together. You watch Peter with a mixture of anticipation and concern, your heart racing as he continues to struggle with his words.
“And, um, I guess, what I’m trying to say is…” He looks directly into your eyes, a mixture of vulnerability and resolve in his expression. He takes a deep breath.
“I–”
“–Know,” you blurt.
Peter’s mouth flops open like a fish out of water. “Uh. What?”
You purse your lips. Cat’s out of the bag. “I know you’re Spider-Man.”
Peter stares incredulously at you. “I… saw. When you went outside to change at Liz’s party. You just left, and I followed you, and for some reason you were changing in front of a big ass window without your mask on? So, literally anyone could’ve saw you, so that might be more your fault than mine–”
“[Name].” Peter's voice cuts through your rambling, and he takes a step closer, hands coming to grasp yours. “You… know?”
You gulp. “Well, yeah? That’s what I just said.”
He lets out a breathy chuckle, shoulders hunching. He brings your hands up to his mouth, lightly kissing them. It sends your heart cracking through your ribs. “[Name], that’s not what I was gonna say.”
You look up at Peter, confusion and anticipation mingling in your eyes. He seems almost relieved, a soft smile gracing his lips as he holds your hands close. The moment feels suspended, and you can hear the quiet hum of the evening outside, adding to the atmosphere of calm and intensity.
“I like you. I really like you.”
You feel your breath catch in your throat, the words sinking in as if time has momentarily stopped. Peter’s eyes are locked on yours, filled with sincerity and a vulnerability that’s rare to see from him. The warmth of his hands around yours feels electrifying, grounding you in the moment.
“...I thought you liked Liz,” you whisper.
“I thought I did too,” he mutters, close. “But I was being stupid. I thought you liked someone else, so I stayed away.” He shakes his head. “But I can’t anymore.”
“How do you know it’s you I like?” you croak.
“Apart from you basically just admitting it?” He smiles cheekily. “MJ told me.”
You click your tongue. “Meddler.”
“She said she got tired of our bullshit.”
You giggle quietly, head dropping. Peter doesn’t take his eyes off of you, biting his lip in anticipation. You squeeze his hands gently, still processing the whirlwind of emotions. “So, what now?”
Peter’s expression softens, and he takes another step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “Can I… can I kiss you?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
Your heart flutters at his words. “Yes,” you say, almost breathless.
Peter leans in slowly, his eyes fluttering shut as his lips meet yours in a gentle, tender kiss. It’s a kiss filled with all the unspoken emotions, a release of the tension and a celebration of what’s finally come to light. The world outside seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you in this perfect, shared moment.
As Peter's lips linger on yours, the kiss deepens, becoming more passionate yet still tender. You feel the warmth of his body, the soft pressure of his lips, and the gentle caress of his hands around yours. The kiss seems to hold everything that had been unsaid, all the confusion, the longing, and the relief of finally being on the same page
When you finally pull back, both of you are smiling, the weight of recent days seeming lighter. Peter’s eyes are full of warmth and affection, and he holds you close, his forehead resting against yours.
“Will you, um… be my–”
“–Guy in the chair? Sure, Pete. It’d be my pleasure.”
Peter hides his grin in your neck. “Sorry. Ned beat you to it.”
“Barely seconds into this relationship and you’ve already betrayed me,” you scoff playfully.
“So we’re dating now?” His voice sounds hopeful.
“Duh.” You’ve never been more sure. “Pete, I’ve been down bad for you ever since you gave me that pencil.”
He pulls back, looking at you with heartbreaking eyes. He leans in to kiss you on the forehead, then pulls back slightly, his expression soft and sincere. "I’m really sorry about homecoming. I’ll take you to prom and we’ll have the best night of our lives.”
You’re pretty sure the best night of your life will be when you and Peter get married, but maybe you’re getting ahead of yourself. “I heard you dumped her there as soon as you got there, anyway. If you ever do that to me I’ll make sure you can never be Spider-Man again.”
He nods his head seriously. “Yes, ma’am.” Then he grins, giddy with the outcome of the situation. “I’ll still make it up to you.”
“I can think of a few ways.”
He blushes, scandalized. “[Name]!”
“Down bad for a long time, Pete,” you remind him. “Like I said, my parents aren’t here…”
He scoffs, shoving you away slightly before pulling you back to him, not willing to let you go after he finally has you. The two of you stand there, holding each other, savoring the quiet and the closeness. The weight of the past few days lifts, replaced by a renewed sense of connection and possibility. It feels like the beginning of something new and wonderful, a chance to explore this newfound closeness and see where it takes you both.
“Can we just. Go out to dinner or something?” he asks, thumb rubbing at your waist. “We could use some celebration, I think."
You smile, feeling a surge of warmth at his thoughtfulness. "That sounds perfect."
As you both head out the door, hand in hand, the evening feels full of promise. With the uncertainties of the past few days behind you, you're ready to embrace whatever comes next—together.
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notes: i wanted reader to drop the "i know ur spiderman" bomb and somehow find a way out of the conversation and now peter has to try to confess to them but he just cant get a hold of them for whatever reason. but that would be like a whole nother 3k or more words and like... this fic already too long LOL
thanks for reading !!
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shellxrls · 1 year ago
Text
FOR YOU
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mdni | 18+ content
pairing: peter parker x fem!reader
warnings: period head / oral - f!receiving / very light smut / descriptions of injuries & blood / angst if you squint
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peter parker likes giving period head. he doesn't have a strange fascination with your blood, doesn't think he needs to do it to be close to you, but he does it anyway.
he does it because of all the times he's desperately crawled through your second floor window and stained the egg white walls with sticky streaks of blood that seep into a permanent muddy brown before you even get a chance to scrub at them. he does it because of the time he destroyed your favourite nightshirt as a consequence of the violent gash on his lower midriff that refused to stop pulsing; ebbing blood all over the cream coloured fabric and staining it beyond repair before you could even begin to think of anything other than the fact that spiderman was successfully bleeding out against your windowsill. he does it because of the times where you've been disgusting and damp with his blood, but never refused to cradle him to sleep or press kisses into his sweat & blood streaked hairline.
he does it because for once that tangy, metallic taste that lingers in his mouth is a result of the adoration he feels for you. a reminder of all the times you've been there when no one else was, of the way he thinks he could die happy between the gentle warmth of your thighs.
and for once, the heavy staining and protruding scent is something peter doesn't have to reflect on with a rising heart rate and sweaty palms when he remembers the way he felt like he was going to die without you.
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@shellxrls 2023
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ruewrote · 10 months ago
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𝑠𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢.
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PAIRING: peter parker x gn!reader WARNINGS: arguing, strong language GENRE: angst SONG INSPIRATION: naked by james arthur WORD COUNT: 440 PARTS: one, two, three
navigation | ask | spiderman masterlist
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you couldn't keep doing this with him. finally coming to the terms that peter would never truly choose you. him being out every night without fail proved that.
today everything changes, you choose yourself instead of him.
there had been one too many date nights cancelled, one too many times that he'd slip into bed with you, not knowing that you were still wide awake with tear stained cheeks.
what was the point anymore? you barely saw him as it is.
loving him with all your might to only get little to nothing in return was draining.
if it wasn't the relationship or lack there of, it was your job. your boss asking too much, too late, your family were there for you, but you could feel their constant worry.
dark circles started to form under your eyes from the little to no sleep you were getting, hair almost always a mess since when you did sleep you would wake up late and had to rush out of the door.
now back to laying in your shared bed alone for what felt like the millionth time.
you couldn't take it anymore and why should you?
that lead to you hurriedly packing your bags, already calling your sister and letting her know what was happening and she welcomed you into her home with open arms.
it was late when you arrived, so you quietly moved your stuff into her guest room, her bidding you a goodnight as the door closes. you were left alone again with your thoughts.
phone vibrating in your hand as pete's texts rolled in. asking where you were and if you were okay, you ended up leaving him on read before completely turning off your phone.
you don't owe him an explanation, you didn't owe him jackshit. not for the way he treats you.
flopping down onto the bed, rolling yourself up into the covers not bothering to change.
tears fill your eyes when you think about how different he used to be, just your cute nerdy boyfriend. the one that would facetime you when he was building his new lego set, the one that would drop everything that he had going on to look after you when you were sick.
the same guy who was too shy to ask you out so he wrote little love notes and only up until you caught him in the act, only then was when he confessed his feelings for you.
it all changed when he got bit by that stupid spider, as much as you love spiderman, you loved peter parker more.
you just wanted your boyfriend back. was that too much to ask for?
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comments and reblogs are appreciated ♡
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© ruewrote 2024.
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bitchyycapricorn · 1 year ago
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Draw Me Like One of Your Italian Girls
Peter Parker x Artist!Reader
Masterlist
Wordcount: 2k
Synopsis: During a school trip to Venice Italy, Peter finds himself in his classmates room.
Warnings:Smut!, unprotected sex, consumption of alcohol (reader and Peter are 18+ legal age), intoxicated sex, nude artwork, could be considered dubcon
AN: not edited. This has been in my drafts for over a month.
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Your eyes flicker from the reference on your laptop, then back down to your paper. Your pencil sketches smooth charcoal lines across the off white paper. Furrowing your brows, you shift the image slightly to get a better look at the image displayed on your screen. 
“Hey Y/N, what are you up to?” Peter asks, popping his head into your room. 
Stopping your movement, your eyes drift up to where he’s leaning against the doorway. “Drawing,” you reply with a small smile before going back to your sketch. 
Peter shifts awkwardly at the door, “Like a picture?” The words come out before he can fully think about what he was saying. And as soon as they came out, he wanted to drown himself in the canal. 
Another smile appears across your face, this time it stays for a moment. “No, I’m drawing up a plan to murder the rest of the class before fleeing the city to live as a fugitive in Rome.”
He gives a small laugh before nodding. “O-oh yeah, that makes sense.” 
You catch the nervous twitch in his voice, the way his body appears to be more tense than usual. “You can come in and shut the door.” You say after a moment of silence. 
He nods quickly, stepping into your hotel room before closing the door. “So uh, where’s your roommate?” Peter asks after fully shuffling into your room. 
“Brads room.” You shrug. 
Another “oh,” escapes his lips knowing that your roommate wouldn’t be back anytime soon. You give a small nod before patting the spot next to you on the bed. “So um, what are you drawing?” Peter asks finally. 
A blush spreads across your cheeks as you tilt the picture for him to see. His eyes scan the drawing and he immediately recognizes him and Ned near the docks. 
“You were actually in the way when I was taking my picture, but I decided you both were cute enough to make the cut.” You tease. 
Peter could feel his face starting to flush again, “cute enough?” He laughs. 
Giving a simple nod, you continue your work. “So what brings you to my room Parker?”
Peter debates whether he wants to be honest or not. On one hand, he could say he had a question about tomorrows tour. On the other, he could ask you to go on a walk with him along the canals. Mainly so that he can confess his feelings for you, which he’s been bottling up since as long as he can remember. “Would you like to walk with me?” He asks quickly, deciding it was worth a shot. 
“Mm, but that would mean I’d have to step out of my artistic zone.” You hum, finishing the last of the sketch and setting it on your nightstand. 
“Y-yeah of course, I’ll just-“ Peter replies as he moves towards the door, assuming you were politely turning down his advances. 
Panic quickly floods your brain as you watch him begin to leave. “Wait!” 
Peter pauses, turning to face you. “Yeah?”
“Stay, let me draw you.” The words tumble from your mouth in a hurry, as you pray the brunette boy won’t exit your room, at least not yet. 
Peter’s body seems to stiffen even more before slowly relaxing ad he looks around the room for a moment. “You want to draw me?” 
A hum leaves your lips as you gaze hopefully at Peter. “I enjoyed drawing you in this one,” you nod to the picture on your nightstand, “you have a nice figure.”
Another blush spreads across Peters face as he takes a seat on the small bench in your room. 
“Is this good?” He asks, trying to sit up straight for you. 
“Yes, just stay still…”
+++
You had been drawing and posing Peter for the last four hours. Somewhere around 11 you had both found the ‘complimentary’ drink assortment stored away in the little cabinet. 
You weren’t really sure which glass of wine/alcohol you and Peter were on now, just that you were stumbling slightly and giggling like crazy. 
Peter’s shirt had been discarded to the floor some time ago and you were still busy ogling over his toned chest. His defined muscles and hard abs that were otherwise hidden by his clothes made the butterflies in your stomach twist and turn. 
“Take your pants off now,” you slur, running your hands down Peters chest as you both stumble around the room. 
“My pants?” Peter quips, equally as drunk. 
“Mhm, I wanna draw you neeked,” a giggle escapes your lips as your fingers fumble around with the zipper of Peter’s jeans. 
It takes a moment for Peter to understand exactly what you want, but once it hits his jeans and boxers are discarded on the floor in a small pile. “Like this?” He coos, throwing his arms in the air to show off his now very naked figure. 
You clap your hands together and squeal, “Good good, now pose for me.” Peter stands there with his hands on his hips, puffing out his chest. Your eyes scan his body up and down, taking in the sight of not only his hard chest, but his hard dick as well. “God you’re built like a Greek god,” you breathe, quickly beginning to sketch. 
Peter hums before giving you a smirk. “Or Roman god since we’re in Venice.” 
“Modeled after the Greek gods sweetheart,” you snicker, making the outline of his abs with your pencil. 
“Are you as turned on as I am right now?” He asks after a few minutes. 
“Yes.” You say without hesitation, moving your pencil downwards to sketch his throbbing cock. “After I finish this I’ll suck your dick.” You giggle again.  
“Oh god,” Peter moans, feeling his cock twitch at the thought. “Are you done yet?”
“No silly. I’m still drawing your penis.” Another snicker leaves your lips as you delicately sketch out Peter’s lower regions. 
Peter lets out a groan, shaking his hips slightly. “Look it moves!” 
You look up to see Peter swishing his dick back and forth causing you to let out a loud shriek. “You have to stay still so I can finish!” A wheezey laugh leaves your chest as you move down to draw his legs. “I’m almost done I promise,” you grin. 
“Well hurry,” Peter whines, staying as still as his drunk little body could. 
“Shhh you can’t rush perfection.” You hush, moving as quickly as you could through your sketch. It took a few more minutes before you turned the drawing around to show Peter. “Look. You’re like the statue David.” You beam proudly. 
He gives you a lopsided grin before quickly scampering over to your bed. “Take your cloths off too and I’ll draw you!” He ushers as you add the sketch to the many others from that night. 
“Okay okay,” quickly getting up you strip completely, kicking your cloths off to the pile of Peter’s clothes. A low hum escapes his lips as he takes your sketch pad and pencil. 
“Pose!” He grins, watching you get into the same pose as him. You place your hands on your hips and stick your chest out proudly.
“Boobs…” Peter mumbles, sketching out a big circle for your head, followed by a stick body, stick legs, and stick arms. He then adds your hair, eyes, and a smile. Looking at the photo for a minute he realizes what he’s missing. “Boobs,” he says again as he draws two boobs onto your stick body. “Perfect!” He cries as he turns it around to show you. 
“Oh! Oh! You’re an artist! A sexy sexy artist,” you cry, wobbling over to Peter so you can throw yourself into his arms. Your legs straddle his hips, hands going into his soft curly hair. His lips press sloppily to yours as he tosses the notebook to the ground. His hands move up to your hips, squeezing the plush skin. 
“Fuck you’re so hot.” He moans against your lips. “The reason I asked you to walk with me earlier was because I wanted to tell you how I feel. I wanted to kiss you in front of the bridge.” His lips press against yours again before continuing. “But this is so much better.” 
“Is it because we’re naked?” You moan, grinding your hips into his. You’re slick gliding over his hard cock as you rock your hips. 
“Fuck, yes.” He groans, eager to be in you.
You let your another moan as you continue to move your hips against his. “Can I put it in me?” You beg, as if you could read Peter’s mind.
He nods as he kisses you again “please,” he groans as he helps lift your hips up. You quickly reach between the two of you so you could line him up at your entrance. Peter helps you ease down onto his throbbing cock. His tip barley enters you before his hips involuntarily buck upwards. You let out a small cry as he bottoms out into your sensitive cunt, eyes fluttering shut as his hips drop back down onto the bed. 
Another gasp leaves your lips as Peter begins to bounce you up and down his shaft. “Fuck you feel so good Y/N,” he growls in your ear. His fingers digging into your skin as he helps guide your sloppy, drunken movements as you grind on his dick. 
He’s so deep in you that you can practically feel him bulging in your stomach. “Peter fuck, you’re filling me so well,” you gasp as his hips thrust up into yours now. A feeling in your stomach begins to grow as Peter continues his brutal attack, his cock going deeper into you with every thrust. 
Stars begin to form in your vision as you press your chest into Peter’s face, his hands keeping your hips still so he can thrust up into you. His hips snap up to yours again as the feeling in the pit of your stomach grows, slowly spreading all over your body. You let out a strangled cry, feeling yourself come undone, cunt clenching around Peters dick making him moan. Your orgasm spreads all over your body like a hot fire, Peter helping to grow the flame as he keeps thrusting into you. 
His hips falter for only a moment before he gives one last deep thrust into you, filling your cunt with his cum. Your body goes slack as you fall forward into Peter. His brain and body going completely blank as well as he falls backwards, bringing you with him.
+++
Your eyes flutter open to the sight of Peter’s face only inches from yours, his hot breath fanning your cheek. You can feel his hot skin on yours as you go to unstick yourself from his sweaty grasp. Your head is pounding and your whole body feels weak. As you sit up it becomes evident that Peter had stayed in you the entire night. As your hips shifted slightly you could feel his dick hardening in you again, filling you up like he had the night before. 
A small groan escapes Peter’s lips as he shifts on the bed. His eyes peel open, looking around the unfamiliar room. A small shriek escapes from his mouth when he notices you sitting naked on his lap, his dick buried inside your cum filled cunt. 
“Sh sh, what the fuck happened?” You groan, holding your head as you look around your now destroyed room. 
“Shit, I think we had sex!” Peter groans, memories slowly coming back to him. 
“Oh fuck,” you mumble, noticing the the abundance of empty bottles discarded around the room. Your eyes travel over to the nightstand where an assortment of drawings lay spread out. All of them are Peter, some with his clothes on, some with his shirt off, then the one of him completely nude… Oh, and the one Peter drew of you. 
“I’m so so sorry, this is all my fault,” Peter sputters, guilt building up in his stomach as he realizes what truly happened last night. 
You let out a long sigh before laughing. “Why are you apologizing? I had a blast, even if some things are a bit fuzzy.”
Peter stops his profuse apologizes, eyeing you carefully. “You aren’t mad?” 
You shake your head, letting out a small hum as you eye the pictures again. “No, I’m glad you came into my room last night.”
+++
Taglist
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astxroiid · 8 months ago
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manhattan longing // tasm!peter parker
❥ tender hands, late nights, secrets, falling from great heights.
wc: 1.1k
navigation ✩ new york private life (I) ✩ empire state of mind (II)
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Peter Parker never thought a wall looked so good to punch. Sitting backwards on your toilet while you shakily stitch up a gash on his back does that to a man.
The adrenaline from the fall wore off and Peter realized he probably didn't just land on the concrete of the sidewalk.
Plus, the glass you ungraciously pulled from his wound answered any doubt.
Speaking of ungracious, the needle in his back was definitely not forming and sort of straight lines.
Peter clutches the toilet lid like a vice. Knuckles turning white and head feeling light from how long he's been holding his breath.
"Okay, this should be the last one," the tone in your voice makes him feel awful for the pain he's feeling. He can here the sadness in your voice, how bad you feel for hurting him.
You push through his skin, pulling the stitch tight and cutting the string. Peter intakes a breath, attempting to dig his nails into the porcelain he's wrapped himself around.
You set the needle on the counter, both peter and you letting out a long awaited breath. His shoulders slump. You slowly reach up, running a thumb over healed scars, all white and jagged.
"Do you fall on glass often?" Your tone is soft and close to a whisper.
Peter turns his head to the side, looking at you over his shoulder. "No, I...." he pauses, attempting to think of a good excuse. Though, you don't know that. "I used to, uhm, box. Yeah. It was intense."
"Oh," you frown slightly, tilting ur head.
You back up, allowing Peter to stand. He turns to face you, revealing a forgotten scar on his chest.
It's long. It spans from his collar bone diagonally to the bottom of his rib cage and it's almost an inch wide.
"Peter," you whisper. "There's no way you got that boxing."
Peter quickly grabs his shirt off the counter, pulling it over his head. "That one's not, I don't really wanna talk about it."
Shame. Shame and embarrassment crash over you like a cold wave. Why the fuck did i mention it?!
You look down at your hands, digging your nails into the sides of each other. "Sorry, I didn't mean to over step."
"No, nonono, don't be sorry. It's okay," Peter smiles at you and, in one spontaneous moment, he's brushing a lock of hair behind your ear.
His heart is pounding in his chest. Fear of pushing a boundary crawling up his body.
Your cheeks are warm and before you know it, your hand is holding his against your face, thumb rubbing his knuckles.
"You're so sweet, Peter Parker."
Fucking kiss her!
You let your fingers trail along his arm, trying to give him a hint he can pick up on.
Fucking kiss me!
It's the perfect time too. God her smile. And her hands, they're so soft, and gentle. Loving in a way he never knew he needed.
"Thank you for fixin' me up," Peter gives a lopsided smile, pulling his hand back to his side.
A cold absence takes hold of where his hand once was.
"Of course," you give a flat smile. "You saved my life. It's the least I can do."
꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦
You offer Peter to stay the night, again saying it's the least you can do in repayment of his heroic act.
You both end up on the couch, curled up watching tv. Again, seeing a couple embrace and feeling the same longing from the other day.
You move to lay your head on Peter's shoulder, letting his arm wrap around you, and sighing into him. Comfort overtakes your body as you sink further into him, slowly running your hand up and down his forearm.
His heart is pounding in his chest. Nerves shaking his hands and his thoughts. "y/n?"
This is it. I'm finally gonna kiss her.
"Yes?"
And with the sweet, sleepy tone of your voice he feels all his confidence start to fizzle. His brain short-circuits trying to come up with a cover up.
"D'you wanna go to bed?"
"Yeah," you yawn, pushing further into him.
Pete leads you from the living room to your bedroom, making sure to turn all the lights off along the way. He pauses once you reach the bedroom, not sure where to go.
You turn and walk up to him, grinning. You place a hand on his chest, feeling his pulse increase.
Peter has no idea what to do. His heart is in his throat, hands tingling.
You let your hand slide up his torso and to the back of his neck, getting as close as you can to him. Peter gulps, looking from your eyes to your lips then back again.
Time seems to stand still, neither of you breathing nor looking away from each other. You tangle your fingers into the brown curls and the nape of Pete's neck, twirling them.
Finally, you pull Peter down to you fully. You kiss him the intensity of the sun. He immediately reciprocates. Your bodies instantly meld into one. Finding their way to the bed and laying you down on your back.
Peter Parker is hovering above you, smiling like an idiot. The same Peter Parker that you loved way back in ninth grade. You were both fourteen, both idiots. The Peter above you now is the same one that fell off the jungle gym in gym class in second grade and blamed you for distracting him.
All the memories swell in your mind, bubbling into one thought you can't help from leaving your lips.
"I have loved you for a long time, Peter Parker."
Peter's eyes go wide, head tilting towards you. "You, what?"
"Have loved you for a long time. since ninth grade to be exact," you state seriously.
You've said it twice and yet, he still can't process it. You notice and try to help him out. You push him over on his side, moving yourself the same way.
"When we were both fourteen, we went on a school field trip to the Empire State Building. We all got to go to the top, but i was afraid of heights. So, you held my hand and told me-"
"If you fall, I'll fall with you," both of you repeat together. And in a crazy twist of fate, you both did fall together.
"I've loved you ever since then."
Peter grabs you by the back of your head, pulling you in for another kiss. Souls connecting into one like two water drops.
He can't believe it. You. You've loved him from the same moment he loved you, and after all this time, you made it back to each other. Falling harder than ever.
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remember: likes are appreciated but comments and reblogs are the desire. Remember they do more for authors and tumblrs than a like ever could.
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love-hs28 · 6 months ago
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It’s okay, you’re allowed to feel this way.
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Having to stay after school for Chemistry help wasn't the most ideal situation to be in after having a bad day. And coming home to Peter being so nice makes it almost impossible to hold your emotions in. (You’re living with Peter, May, and Ben bc your parents died in an accident. Not important to the story but jsyk)
CW: Reader has panic attack & cries a bunch Hurt/Comfort & Fluff Reader's gender isn't specified 1.3k Words Posted on 5-25-24
My third post, ahhhh!! I cannot thank you guys enough for the love I've seen so far on my first two posts. PLEASE lmk what else you'd like to see! I hope you enjoy this one!!
You had to stay after school one day to get some extra help with your chemistry homework. You didn’t struggle much in your classes, but for some reason, your chemistry class had been giving you absolute hell all semester. It never seemed like you could get the hang of it, and just when you were starting to think you were understanding what was going on, a new concept would be introduced and your progress would restart from the beginning. Peter usually helps you with any tough classwork because he always seems to know what the teacher is going to teach before class even starts, but this time your teacher insisted that you stay after so you could get some ‘real’ help, whatever that meant. You’re pretty sure that if she was actually able to teach you better than Peter could you would have already asked her for help, but whatever. 
You come home and slam the front door as you walk in. May and Ben are still at work and Peter is in the shed working on something for his suit, as he typically is after a school day. You kick your shoes off and angrily walk upstairs. Your bedroom door slams shut as you carelessly toss your backpack on the floor, sitting on the edge of your bed with your face in your hands. You’d felt anxious all day and having to stay after for fucking chemistry and still not understanding it definitely wasn’t helping. You try to control your breathing and just forget about the day and focus on the plans you had with Peter later. 
Out in the shed, Peter could sense that you were home, (he also heard the front door slam), which meant that he could also tell that you weren’t in the best state. He set aside his spidey stuff and made his way into the house and to your room. 
You hear a gentle knock on the door and Peter hesitantly saying your name. “Y/n? You in there?” 
You sigh and look up. “Yeah.” 
He cracks the door open and peaks in. “Can I come in?” 
You muster a smile, “Sure.” 
He comes in and shuts the door behind him. He gives a warm smile and comes over to give you a kiss and plops down next to you. 
“Hey bub. How was your day?” He absentmindedly rubs your knee with his hand. You know he already knows how your day went and is just trying to be nice. 
You sigh, “Shit. How was yours?” 
He frowns and tucks a hair behind your ear. “Mine was boring. Much better now though; why was it bad?” 
You sigh and stand up and begin to pace. “Well, as you know, I had to stay after for chem help and I’m sure you can guess how that went. I literally cannot fucking understand it no matter how hard I try and it gets so annoying because I’m good in like every other subject but that and I just don’t understand why.” You run your hands over your face and Peter is looking at you, concerned but attentive. “Not to mention the subway ride home was horrible; I had to sit across from this creepy fucking pedo who wouldn’t stop starting at me and he fucking winked at me when I got up to leave,” Tears start prickling in your eyes and your breathing gets heavy and uneasy. Peter notices this and you see that he’s about to get up and come over to you. “And to make it all worse, I saw a stray dog on the way home and he was just limping and I think he hurt his paw or something and I wanted to go help him but I didn’t know if he was a nice dog or whatever so I didn’t want to risk it but he looked so sad and helpless and I felt so bad and now I wanna go back and find him and help him or take him somewhere or something because it’s not fair that he has to be all alone and scared especially when it's getting so cold and I also think I’m about to start my period so that doesn’t fucking help and I’m just-” You’re fully crying now, on the verge of sobbing, and Peter comes over and wraps his arms around you. You bring your hands up to his chest and sob into his shirt while he gently rubs your back. 
He guides the two of you over to your bed and you sit down, your body turned into him and his arms still around you. “It’s okay, honey. Let it out, I got you.” 
You sob and your breath is coming in short gasps. Peter softly kisses your head over and over again to try and calm you down. 
“I’m s-sorry. I don’t know w-why I’m such a m-mess.” You grip his shirt as tears stream down your face. You can feel him shake his head and gently shush you. 
“Shh, don’t apologize. It’s okay. You’re allowed to feel this way, I’m right here.” 
You let out another sob because he’s being so nice and his hand that's not on your back comes up to brush your hair out of your face. As always, when the tears start to die down, the uneven breathing picks up. Peter knows this pattern by now, and rubs your back more firmly. 
“Deep breaths, baby. Follow my breathing, okay?” He exaggeratedly takes deep breaths while maintaining eye contact and you try your best to match the rise and fall of his chest, focusing on his heartbeat under your ear. 
When your breathing eventually slows down, you pull back a bit to sit more upright and rub your eyes, hiccuping. Peter gently puts a hand on the side of your face and tilts it so you’re looking at him. He has a sad but loving look in his eyes that almost makes you want to start crying again. He uses his thumb to gently wipe the remaining tears on your face and kisses your forehead. 
You lean your head to rest on his chest and he rests his head on top of yours. You take a few more deep breaths before leaning up again to look at him. He kisses your forehead once more and softly smiles. 
“Thank you,” you whisper, and wrap your arms around his neck for a hug. He holds you close to him as you breathe him in, the last step to really calming you down.
“Don’t thank me, Y/n/n. ‘s what I’m here for. I’m sorry your day was so shit, you don’t deserve that.” 
You lightly shrug and lean back to softly kiss his lips. “You made it better, it’s okay.”
He smiles and tucks a hair behind your ear. “If you want, we can postpone our date tonight and just stay in and watch a movie. Whatever you want.” 
You shake your head, “No, I think going out to do something will actually help. Get my mind off everything, y’know.” 
He smiles and nods. “Good, because I’ve got something planned that you’re gonna loooveeee,” He says teasingly, and you laugh as he moves you both in a lying position. 
“Oh really, what is it??” You rest your head on his chest and pull one of your legs up over his. He pulls the blanket over you two and takes your hand into his to play with his fingers. 
“Nope, sorry bug, it’s a surprise.” 
You giggle through your nose and snuggle into him. “Well, I’m very excited.” 
He kisses your head once more and you lay there for a bit while he plays with your hair and rubs your back, and you’re finally at peace. 
Hope you enjoyed! As always, please leave requests and such for me. Love you all <3
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hanasnx · 1 year ago
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PETER PARKER uses his spider-sense to get out of all sorts of awkward situations. If there’s an uncomfortable circumstance he can exit by loftily looking out into the distance and irish-goodbye-ing, he’s taking it.
Unfortunately for him, you’ve caught on to his ruse. It’s impolite to cry wolf, and you’ve learned his tells between a real emergency and an act to save his dignity.
One particular example stands out of the rest. You and him had broken it off months ago, but had finally agreed to be friends. A platonic hang-out between two adults. That’s possible, right? Apparently not. You fell into old habits, and you could pick out how he sweet talked you, but you let him. It felt so good to be seen by him, felt so good to talk to him. That spark between the two of you still remains, and it’s cause for his peculiar behavior when your gaze lingers on his. A exchange of heated eye contact, coming down from innocent snickering over an inside joke, morphs into a familiar dance. You see the thought process in his eyes, practically witness the neurons fire off to decide his next move. He inclines, and you’re drawn to him.
A single finger presses to his subtly puckered lips, halting him, and separating the two of you. “Peter… I can’t.”
It’s a serious moment, it told you everything you needed to know. How you weren’t ready for friendship with him, how unapologetic he was in disregarding the boundary at first. At least until he was caught. “Ah, you’re right. You’re right. I’m sorry.” sheepishly, he concedes, recoiling as his hand finds the back of his head.
You take notice of how he slows, the recognition in his countenance, and the descent of his arm. He faces the side, a faraway look to the horizon, a crease to his brow. You press your lips into a thin line.
All heartfelt empathy hardens into stone as you deduce exactly what he’s doing. “You are not seriously pulling this right now.”
Like a lawn chair, he folds. Shameful as he bows his head in a nod. “Yeah, okay.” His ticket out of living in the moment with the consequence of his action dissipates before him. He kicks the dirt, placing his hands on his hips as he condemns himself for trying to get out of this. Guiltily, he accepts his punishment of remaining here with you as a dark cloud looms over your company.
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jahayla-parker · 8 months ago
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🎆 Hey J!! Congrats on your 1.5 followers I'm so proud of you girl!! So for my request I was wondering if it could be a Peter Parker one where y/n is somehow transported into Spider-Man: Homecoming, Spider-Man: Far From Home, or Spider-Man No Way Home you pick and chaos ensues 💜
Multiverse : Peter Parker x Real-world!Reader
Descr: short fic in which y/n finds herself in her favorite movie and has to decide how to proceed.
Warnings: I’m not really great at these kind of AUs but other than that, I can’t think of any but let me know!
This sucks; I'm sorry, nothing was coming to me
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Y/n bounced her right leg nervously as she looked around. She didn’t understand what was going on. One second she had been rewatching the latest Spider-Man movie, No Way Home from the comfort of her apartment. The next, she was standing in front of a glowing circle, identical to the ones that were portals in the movie she’d been watching. She hesitated briefly but nevertheless let her courage guide her into the multi-dimensional opening.
Y/n squinted as her eyes adjusted to her new surroundings. She quickly realized she’d somehow seemingly entered into the Marvel Cinematic Universe. How that was possible, she wasn’t certain. Had it not been for her literally pinching herself several times, she’d have thought she was simply dreaming. But she wasn’t. This was real.
Y/n slowly made her way across the bridge, stopping the moment she heard the fighting begin. She was actually in No Way Home.. or… in the universe that held the No Way Home events..? She wasn’t sure how to phrase it, it was all so bizarre. Either way, she knew from having seen the movie countless times already, that she ought to run and hide unless she wanted Dr. Octavius or Green Goblin to harm her.
Y/n let her feet guide her away from the immediate threat, only looking up when her legs came to a halt. She blinked rapidly as she found herself standing in front of Doctor Strange’s Sanctum. Of course she’d managed to make it here. Perhaps she should just go with the flow and try to help. After all, she knew how things would go, maybe she could prevent Tom Holland’s char Peter from getting hurt and May from dying.
That idea turned out too optimistic as Peter understandably was weary of y/n. It was one thing to bring people who knew him/Spider-Man from other universes. But a universe in which he was actually just a character and not real, that was another thing to digest. Nevertheless, Peter didn’t want to take any chances so he let her help him, Ned, and MJ.
It was a bit difficult at first to get Peter to trust her. As in his eyes, she seemed to be able to tell the future and was offering to stop the bad things before they happened. Luckily, having seen Far From Home, y/n understood why he was so weary of such a thing being too good to be true. So even when Peter trapped her in a sheet of webs as he demanded answers he could understand, she remained calm.
Once he had heard her out and understood that she meant no harm, Peter let y/n guide him on what to do and what not to do. There were some moments of chaos nonetheless as they were trying new things that y/n knew Peter hadn’t done in the movie before. But, she figured it was worth all the danger and chaos because she was helping her favorite superhero.
Only that too was much more intense than y/n had anticipated. Yet, she was simultaneously thrilled to be playing an active part in the movie she loved so much. Especially since they were now near the ending and May hadn’t died!
The only issue is y/n now had to return to her own universe. As much as she wanted to stay and make a place for herself in this one, she refused to risk ruining the MCU by accident. So, with a sigh, y/n closed her eyes as she said goodbye to this universe before stepping back into hers.
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spideysquake · 1 year ago
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“good answer” - p.p
summary: peter is scared to love as much as he does, but sometimes you have to do the thing that scares you. [i got the idea/inspiration from ‘banyan tree – interlude’ by machine gun kelly, even though that guy kinda sucks and his music is generally pretty mid]
word count: 1k words
warnings: cursing, i genuinely cannot tell if this is angst or fluff and i’m okay with that, this can be imagined as any iteration of peter bc i know everyone has their favorites
a song on the side: banyan tree – interlude by machine gun kelly
“You know, I would do pretty much anything for you.”
You were sprawled out on Peter’s dark blue comforter, your head resting against his thigh and your feet dangling off the edge of the bed. The sky was beautiful and gloomy and there was a good chance that it was going to rain – the kind of rain that makes you want to light a candle and dig out the heavy blankets from the back of your closet. It had been about twenty minutes since either of you had said anything – Peter had been almost positive you were asleep until your words broke the silence in his tiny, dusty apartment.
“What do you mean?” Everything you did was vital to Peter. Everything you loved, he wanted to love. Everything you craved, he wanted to give you. Everything you thought and felt and said, he wanted to know and hear and understand. The day would never come when he felt he was too close to you or knew you too well. To know you was to love you, and he was content to spend the rest of his life doing both.
“I mean it. I would do just about anything for you,” you hummed, though you refused to make direct eye contact with your boyfriend. Instead, you traced your fingertip over the set of initials you had inked in Sharpie over the hollow point of his wrist, where the soft skin met the jutting tendon – your initials on his wrist, and his on yours. “Anything you want me to do, I’ll do. Anything you want from me, it’s yours. I’m yours.”
It was the most romantic and terrifying thing Peter had ever heard. If he was just another broke, anxious twenty-something college student, your words would be the greatest thing he’s ever heard. But he’s Spider-Man. And being Spider-Man means constantly putting the people he loves in harm’s way. As long as he had these powers, as long as he used his abilities, you were never really safe. Peter hated that he was putting you in danger, but he couldn’t let you go. He had lost too much. For once in his life, he wanted to be selfish. And he wanted you more than anything.
“I don’t want that, though.” Peter felt like his body was on fire. Whether it was from love or fear, he wasn’t sure. Was there really much of a difference? “I want you to be you. To be free. Don’t just do things for me.” His desperation was clawing at the inside of his chest like he was holding it captive. He was damn sure going to try.
“No, I know.” You were sitting up now. “But that’s what I mean. Like, doing things for you isn’t just doing things for you, you know? It’s also doing things for me. They aren’t really different anymore. Making you happy makes me happy.” You threaded your hand through his overgrown curls, your thumb smoothing back and forth over his freckled cheek. His ears were hidden under small tufts of untamed locks, but he could still feel the tips of them heating up as you gazed lovingly as him. Suddenly, he was overcome by his need to be holding you, to hold your head to his heart and to feel the comfort that came with knowing that you were real, and you were with him, and you weren’t going anywhere.
“What makes me happy is knowing that you’re safe, that you’re on the other side of the phone, waiting to pick up when I call you. What makes me happy is knowing that you are going to live a long and happy and fulfilling life, and that you get to wake up every morning and know that you are loved.” Peter buried his chin into your hair, which he noticed smelled like his minty conditioner. There was a weight behind his eyes, but he refused to cry when the conversation began with an admission of your love. “Even if that means it isn’t with me.”
“Baby, that’s not… That stuff only matters if it’s with you. I don’t want any of that otherwise. I only want a long and happy life if I’m waking up to you every morning. Without you, it’s not a happy life. I’m happy with you.”
Peter was scared. If he’d learned anything in this life, it was that bad things happened to people who loved Peter Parker. He couldn’t be your downfall.
“But Spider-Man… What if you — What if I do something? What if someone bad finds me, or finds out who you are to me? What if I’m the reason you —”
You wiped at Peter’s tear-stained cheeks with your fleecy sleeves, and you pressed your forehead to his – so close that you could the smell the peppermint tea he’d been drinking when you first laid down together.
“Pete, baby… We can’t control any of that shit. Yeah, bad shit is going to happen. And yeah, maybe some of it will happen because you’re Spider-Man. But even if you weren’t, bad things would happen. That’s life, honey. But we can’t run away from the good things because they could end one day. I would rather die knowing that we loved each other as much and as hard as possible than live forever wondering if there was ever something I didn’t say, or a kiss I didn’t give you. If I die knowing exactly what it felt like to love and be loved by Peter Parker, then I did it right.” You pressed your lips to Peter’s forehead, and he wondered what he could’ve possibly done to earn you.
All he could think was that he would spend the rest of his life earning this moment: your hand in his hair, your scent in his sheets, your warm breath against his cheeks, and your heartbeat lined up right next to his in your chests.
His throat felt thick and his voice felt heavy, but he couldn’t let such wonderful words go unanswered.
“And just when did you get so wise about matters of the heart?” Your noses brush and it’s the most glorious millisecond of his life.
“It comes with the territory of being so hopelessly in love with the best guy I’ve ever known.” You beam up at him like you hold the secrets to the universe under your tongue, and it’s all he can do not to go searching for them.
What a wonderful answer.
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morganwrites12672 · 2 years ago
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Peter Parker x Stark!Reader
This is what won the poll!
Summary: Tony finds out Peter has been sneaking in and out of your room.
Warnings/Tags: kissing, fluffy, fluff, minor angst, barely even angst, dad! tony x reader, Peter Parker x reader (romantically), established relationship,
Rating: PG-13
Peter snuggles into your chest. He took every opportunity he could to sneak up to your room. Anytime Tony would get suddenly busy, or need to do something solo, Peter snuck off.
This was what led to your current predicament. Not that you were complaining, you loved it when Peter had a second to spare.
Peter wouldn't have to sneak around...bjt your dad has a very strict 'no dating heros' policy. It made sense, he always used the amount of times he has missed dates with your mom or out her in danger as an excuse.
But, you didn't care. You couldn't help that you fell in love with Peter. And Peter couldn't help the fact that he fell in love with you. Or that he was spiderman. It just happened.
You ignore the thoughts of what would happen if your dad found out and focus on peters soft snores. He finally fell asleep.
You thread your fingers through his brown curls as he sleeps. He was adorable every day, but even cuter when he sleeps.
He lets out a quiet groan as he snuggles even deeper into your warmth. God, he was so fucking cute.
You close your eyes and allow sleep to overtake you. You could forget about your dad long enough to enjoy a nice nap with your lover.
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"What did I say?" Your dad lectures. You had been asleep for, maybe five minutes, and your dad walks in. That led to you and Peter being drug to his office.
Your dad grips the edge of his desk and groans. He was pissed. He had one rule, one simple rule, and you both broke it.
"I'm sorry," you say. Your dad rolls his eyes, he knows that's complete bullshit.
You weren't sorry that you were dating Peter. You were only sorry that you and Peter had gotten caught.
"Why? Why couldn't you listen to me. Just this once," your dad lectures. "This isn't going to end well," he points between you and Peter. And then he lingers on your hands that are clasped together.
"It wi-" Peter begins to say. He is promptly cut off by your dad.
"It wont. What happens when you miss your kids birthday party because Spider-Man is needed?" Tony asks "You know how many times I have let down Yn or pepper? All because of ironman," he reminds.
You think about all of the times something had happened and your dad had to leave. It hurt. You didn't even want to think about doing that to another person. Not knowing if their dad was going to come home alive.
"What's your solution?" Tony asks.
"I'm not going to be spiderman forever. I'll retire the suit before we have kids," Peter suggests.
"Not every superhero is like you dad. Not every one of them is going to never retire," you point out.
"You." Tony says, the words are stuck in his throat, ",have my blessing," he grumbles. He couldn't keep you to apart and he knew it. you had Stark blood, being stubborn was a second nature
You and Peter smile before thanking your dad.
You could be together.
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Do you guys want me to start doing polls for what to post next? Comment or send an ask with your answer.
My requests are open.
Please like and reblog if you enjoyed.
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isaacarellanesismyhusband · 1 month ago
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Peter Parker masterlist nav. megalist
▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️fluff▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️
i'll always be here for you
y/n(she/her) has a panic attack because she was attacked by a villan, but spider-man saved her and brought her home and after spider man left, peter arrived like 2 minutes later and comforted her
cute
Peter tries to ask y/n(she/her) out but he gets all flustered and shy and stumbles in words a lot but she thinks it's cute
i’ve never... kissed anyone before
both y/n(she/her) and Peter are really shy and awkward and they have their first kiss
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charg3rs0ck3t · 2 years ago
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Anti-heroism
(Alt title- “Save me?”)
TASM! Peter Parker x (vigilante) reader
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Warnings: slight angst, mentions of domestic crimes, reader kills someone (not too graphic), almost death, knives, it’s really fucking long, some fluff.
((Unedited))
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Not everyone is worth being saved.
———————————————————————
The first time you really met Spiderman, your hands were around his neck. You were slowly tightening your grip, but, as you looked up to watch the life leave his eyes, something you had eagerly awaited, you stopped as he began to mumble.
You knew that voice.
God fucking damnit.
———————————————————————
You hated heroes. Hated how they were considered salvations to a broken society. Maybe if the rich gave a shit the divide wouldn’t be so great.
Society is run off greed.
And yeah, sometimes the rich do give a shit, you weren’t saying thats the prime evil, the problem comes when assholes use chaos and desperation to make quick cash.
New York City was a prime example of the cesspits designed by and for humanity. In the beginning, there was no night that went by without the sound of an ambulance and a hearse in pursuit with last nights leftovers.
Now they just skipped the ambulance and went straight in with the hearse.
The city chewed people up and spat them out dead.
Heroism is dangerous. It is a false alias for mass destruction and major loss of life, and yet claims to be for the good of the people. A core of wickedness, hidden in a faux utilitarian shell. A being not whole unless causing harm and calling themself in favour of those who they massacre.
Heroism is a plague of the mind, but it doesn’t acquaint to the evil it fights. In concept, the idea was perfect. That’s where you came in.
Neither hero nor villain, but one who admits and atones to their wrongs without a need to do so. You had no image to uphold, doing what was right and paying the cost that took.
At least.. at least until you decided to catch the attention of the ‘local hero’.
———————————————————————
Growing up in New York City had its perks, one such being direction. But it was still a big city, things where constantly changing, so it wasn’t uncommon for you to drop into an alley a block or so over from your intended destination.
Usually, this was fine, however how were you to react when you come face to face with The Spiderman adjusting his costume and packing away casual clothes into a duffle.
Clearly, he didn’t know either because as he seemed to be adjusting the material at his shoulders, he turned a caught a glimpse of you.
There you two stood, at a stale mate, perfectly acquainted through previous minor conflicts and slightly contrasting morals. He began to panic, it was dreadfully obvious when all he could seem to do was gape like a fish.
“Don’t worry spider-boy, knowing what you look like would take all the fun out of it!” You exclaimed, turning your back and walking away, chuckling to yourself as you scale a wall onto another building. Hoping to finally enjoy some peace.
What you didn’t expect however, was for him to follow you.
“Where are you going?” He said, trailing just behind you. He didn’t exactly know why he had followed you up here, but you confused him so and he was intrigued.
Peter knew he was no distinguished labelled hero, Hell, he was reminded by the papers every day. He knew and he accepted that, but he had every intention to be one, no matter what.
You however, you perplexed him. You seemed to hate the evil in the city, and so you did something about it. But you hated being called a hero, you didn’t do anything by the book. In fact there were times Peter found your methods barbaric and oddly personal.
He had watched you beat the literal shit out of your fair share of criminals, but you’d really let it out in cases of domestic crimes. For being so violent, you were so passionate and so caring to victims.
But you just didn’t want to be a hero. Trust that he knows that, he’s asked you on multiple occasions and that black eye from the last time he snuck up on you still aches on occasion.
“None of your business.” You retaliated to him tiredly, soon following with a yawn. You were exhausted, Rightfully so however. You had been parading around since your class ended and it was almost 11 PM by now.
All you wanted to do was get home, finish your coursework, take a bath and sleep.
But here you were, with an eyesore in tight spandex on your ass. You couldn’t go home with him tailing you, so you’d have to go horizontal to your apartment. Sitting on some random roof and hanging your legs over a darkened alley.
Hoping to have lost him, you glanced over your shoulder, only to see him staring at you from across the roof. You sighed, getting out some protein bar and opening it. Eating away as you stared into the busy streets.
The city truly never slept and amongst the ugliness and sorrow, the chaos and twinkling lights seemed ever beautiful and you smiled at the thought.
“Why do you do it?” He muttered as he sat next to you. Getting a hum in response only prompted him to continue. “I mean, you say you hate the city, that you’d leave it first chance you have.. but somewhere in there you must love it, or you wouldn’t do this, put yourself in danger just for the innocent.”
“That’s a dark way of looking at it Spider-man, I thought you were meant to be this place’s glimmer of light!” You laughed a little, majorly just trying to release the harsh tension. “It’s not the city, it’s the people, it’s the people who this place don’t deserve. I think no matter where I was I would have ended up like this because people need something to believe in.”
“Superhero speech! That was totally a superhero speech don’t even deny it! I got it all down!” He yelled accusingly but in a light tone, pointing at you. It was fond, as if you were just two old friends bantering with each other. Even if you did push him off the roof in response with a loud ‘would a superhero do this asshole!?’
But you knew he would catch himself, that he expected it was coming.
You hated heroes, but this one just seemed to be the exception.
———————————————————————
Peter was a sweet boy, respectful, but he was pained.
You could tell he was always hiding a deeper pain, sorrow he never let himself truly feel, sorrow he may never cure himself of.
He was your best friend, a shining ray of hope even through all the dirt, but even the brightest rays where darkened and scarred by the ugly smog that was the city.
Every time you talked to him, every happy moment, he never seemed to let himself truly enjoy it. He seemed to live in the future but always worry about the present.
How can one hope to fix the present if they treat it as the past? Simple answer, you can’t.
———————————————————————
It was another night in New York, even the lume of the many billboards couldn’t shine upon every shadowed corner. So, evil continued in the darkness.
You already hadn’t been having a great day, your job had double booked you for 2 meetings and you had spent hours being yelled at for trying to point out the issue. Plus, you had to miss one of your lectures because the meeting went over by an hour. So really you were just sick of today, wanting nothing more than to curl up at home with a bottle of wine and some shitty tv.
But, unfortunately for you, one of the gangs you’ve been trailing, notedly unsuccessfully, for the past month finally left a huge clue. They would be sending out another shipment tonight, dabbling in special enhancement drugs that made most people go insane.
So here you were, sat on a rooftop watching some goons bicker in-front of the entrance of the warehouse. You were calculating how long until the anonymous tip you’d send to the police would take to dispatch. Either way you had a good Fifteen minutes before anyone came running.
At least, that was until Spiderman decided to grace you with his presence. A presence that you really didn’t need right now, especially when already peeved off.
“What are we doing?~” He whispered mockingly, getting a glare in retaliation. But, not content with that answer he repeated the question again.
“Oh lord give me patience, or atleast a fucking knife.” You muttered to yourself. “ ‘we’ are doing nothing, you, you are going to leave me alone and go save another cat from a tree and I, I am going to go actually make a change in this city.”
He just laughed and shook his head at your response, “oh cmon! Why can’t we be partners! An iconic duo! Like Batman and Robin, Bonnie and Clyde or something!”
“We are not going to be either of those thi- wait shut up for a second.” He began to open his mouth but closed it as you stared intently below, the doors of the warehouse opening mockingly.
“Stay here!” You whispered, the last thing you needed was his moralistic hero speeches as you were using some guy as a punching bag. So as he stood obediently, you scaled down the building to an open window, Three stories high.
The room you entered seemed empty and cold, as though no one had been inside in years. Merely a week prior, their main base of operations was set up in here. It was all a trap.
But who had known you would be coming?
You got your answer in the form of a sharp stab at your side, looking down to find a knife expertly lodged in your flesh. It didn’t seem fatal or anything at the time, but it definitely hurt like a bitch.
Turning around to see the man, hands now covered in your blood, was effortless, even more so as your body seemed to simply flow, contorting in quivers of motion as you eventually left him a bloody pulp, dead, sprawled still upon the floor.
You couldn’t continue, you were tired, woozy and bleeding. Shipment or not, you would have to do this another night, plus you definitely couldn’t be around when the police turned up.
Seeing the flashing lights and hearing the sirens was what drove you to stand up and finally clamber out the window. Admittedly, not as gracefully as usual, but you got a free pass since the knife was still lodged pitifully into your side.
———————————————————————
It comes to a point in a persons life (typically as they’re jumping and weaving from one rooftop to another with their only intention to get home and patch up a literal stab wound), when they wonder if it’s all worth it.
This was that moment for you. As you stumbled from another roof, almost falling into the bustling streets below, you had to take a moment to catch a breath.
Turns out, even that seemed a bad idea because as you closed your eyes, you heard a whoosh of air and the thump of the hero, the one you seemed to come to know so much of, landing next to you.
Today really wasn’t your finest and all you seemed to want to do was sleep. It was infuriating and nothing was going your way.
“What do you want?” You hissed at him, you were in no mood to entertain. All you wanted was to close your eyes, maybe have a little nap, just so you could finally get home tonight.
He took one long look at you, staring at your slumping figure, drooping before him.
It was depressing to see you like this, he didn’t know what happened in the 20 minutes it’d been since you parted, but you were not in a good state. He was worried, and maybe, just maybe, he was scared.
As he went to go pick you up, or at least help you to your feet, his arms wrapped around you. His fingers finally trailed to the bloody hilt of the knife and he gasped, it was light and restricted, but he was shocked nonetheless and didn’t hide it well. He pulled his hand back and observing the reddened substance on his hands, before his eyes landed on your face.
“Calm down, it’s not toxic or anything- it’s just blood- not all of us can be ‘mr I never get hurt in fights’.” You slurred and hiccuped out the sentence, trying to uphold the typical rivalling ‘banter’ you two thrived on.
But He didn’t laugh.
The blank eyes of that mask just bore into yours, especially when he seemed to take in every detail of the injury.
“You are so lucky I care!-“ He was angry, thrashing his arms and pacing back and forward. “If I didn’t I’d shove you in a hospital right now and let them expose you to the world! Shove you off and not let you be my problem.” He was being mean, spiteful, but he was also saddened.
“If I recall Spiderman- you were the one who bothered me.” You laughed in a hushed tone, at least before grabbing at your side as a sharp sensation jolted through it. It hurt and you let out a soft sob.
“My name is Peter, If you’re gonna die here, tonight, on this shitty run down roof, you deserve to know my name.” He was downcast, turning to face you, to grasp a reaction. All he could see was the small shape of a smile under your own mask. How could you just sit there and smile at him? How could you do this to him at a time like this?
“I know, I’ve always known Pete. I probably wouldn’t have put up with you for so long if I didn’t…” you whispered out cautiously, causing his head to whip in your direction.
“How- wait! Wait- No- Please tell me it’s not you! Please (Name)! Please No!” He ran over, dropping to your side and ripping off his own mask before gently going to remove your own.
So you smiled at him, it’d been a few days since you last saw his real face. Even tear stained, his was your favourite.
“I’m sorry Pete, I didn’t mean for it to go this way. I knew, I knew since the first time I met you in costume. I tried to kill you, my hands were around your throat. You only escaped that night because of your voice. So maybe.. maybe this is karma? Maybe this is what I get for killing all of these people! Hell, I don’t regret it, maybe that makes it worse, but what does it all matter anyways if I die on this rooftop tonight?” It all came out in a blur, maybe it was adrenaline, maybe it was fear, you couldn’t tell.
“You’re not gonna die tonight, not now I know it’s you. I’m gonna make sure you live.” He was crying, big tears welled up in his eyes, spilling onto his reddened cheeks.
“You can’t save everyone Peter, I know you want to, but you can’t. You can’t save me, not from what I’ve done and not from the consequences of that.” You knew you had done terrible things, and you knew that you didn’t regret a single one. You didn’t regret anything, except maybe dying without apologising, without telling him how you feel.
“No, no I can’t. But you can save yourself.”
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It all went by in a flash, there were moments when you were semi-lucid. You could look around, take it all in, but you couldn’t speak, couldn’t see faces.
You had been treated, not professionally and definitely not in a hospital, but well enough. You would live.
Finally waking up, you felt exhausted. You craved the idea of sleep, but you detested the days of nightmares you had been trapped in.
Not speaking when awake was something you could handle, but being stuck in a constant terror of false reality drove you insane. You saw Peter’s face in them, he was always distorted and full of rage.
“I hate you.” He’d say
“I will never forgive you.” He’d spit.
“If you had died, I’d have one less criminal on the streets to worry about.” He’d hiss.
You knew it wasn’t real, but it hurt all the same. Whilst you knew that those things he was saying were all in your dreams, all the things you had done were very much real.
It was cliché. You had only once rethought your path before now, that was the first time you had ever met him. He was a small boy, hardly could stand up for himself, but he was something good, infinitely flowing with hope for a better future.
Now here you were, trudging your way from the made up bed on his apartments couch. You’d been here many times before, when he was significantly less aware. Before, it always felt like home, but now it felt like even the walls had eyes that looked upon you with hate, pity and betrayal.
If anything, you wished you could apologise to this place you loved so much, to the lies you told under this sturdy roof and to the cement foundations that had fallen akin a victim to your actions.
You stood outside Peters room for a long while, staring at the Chipping paint at the corners of the door. Debating returning to the couch, but before you could retreat back a voice rang from within the room.
“Are you coming in?” He seemed calm, composed and confident.
Entering the room, he seemed all but that, he seemed anxious and at the same time relieved, he was scared and he was happy. He was confusing.
Walking forward was subconscious. Peter often struggled getting to sleep so you had slept in his room many times.
This time was different though, you weren’t just here because your study date ran over.
He gestured to the empty space upon the bed, so you tucked yourself under the duvet. His bed was comfortable, but you wrapped an arm around him and rested your head upon his chest. Your bodies both suddenly began jolting, he had begin to silently sob, and so you laid there, quietly shushing him as he cried, arms wrapped around him.
Finally the world felt right again, maybe he could save you, because If the world felt this good all the time you wouldn’t have to fight.
“Never do that to me again” he muttered finally.
“Okay.. I love you..” you murmured in response, nuzzling your head further into his chest.
“I love you too, we’ll talk in the morning.” He shuffled slightly to place a delicate kiss on your forehead before falling asleep with you finally in his arms again.
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shellxrls · 1 year ago
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peter parker falls in love with something new every day. you liked to say he was born with more love in his body than he could truly handle. he would go off in the morning the minute an alert came through on his phone, and return in the depths of the night - a little piece of his heart extended to the tabby cat he saved from a tree, its fur still clinging to his suit, or the old lady he helped cross the street, F.R.I.D.A.Y alerting him that she had successfully made it to her apartment. whoever or whatever it was, you knew your boyfriend could never, ever stop himself from loving. sometimes the thought made you jealous, welling up from a buried orifice of your brain and telling you that maybe you're not enough, maybe he needs more, more that you weren't equipped to provide. but then he's get into bed with you and wraps his hands around yours because he knows your fingers run cold in the night; and he'll text you 'good morning!' with some stupid new emoji combination he thought was funny if he can't be home when you wake up; and he'll tell you, every single opportunity of every day, how much he loves you. so yes, peter parker does fall in love with something new every day, but whats important is that he chooses you every day, over and over again.
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bitchyycapricorn · 1 year ago
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Almost There
Peter Parker x Ghost!Reader
Chapter One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven
Masterlist
Series Masterlist
Wordcount: 1.6K
Synopsis: Peter enters his apartment that night expecting to find an empty bed. But instead, he comes face to face with your transparent glowing figure.
Warnings: ANGST!, Mentions of children dying, jealousy, Ned and Reader lowkey being besties
AN: I swear I actually like MJ’s character in MCU but it’s for the fic. Not edited.
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You hadn’t bothered to go back to Peter’s apartment that day. Instead you found yourself in search of Ned, the person who was soon to be your new roommate. Hopefully. He was your only other friend besides Peter. Since you and Peter were no longer on speaking terms as of last night, you desperately need him to agree to let you bunk with him for the time being. And so, you found yourself poking your head into every room to the left of Peter’s apartment in hopes of finding Ned’s, since the only real information you had to go off of was that it was on the same floor and well, to the left.
You had managed to make it to the very last door with no sign of Ned. Sucking in a breath, you poked your head through the wooden door and took a look around. Thankfully, Ned stood in his kitchen warming up a cup of Mac and cheese. You let out a sigh and made your way through the door and over to where he was standing. “Hey Ned,” you say casually, turning solid so he could see you.
Ned let out a shriek, his hand flying to his heart as he backs into the counter behind him. His eyes lock with yours looking absolutely terrified as he attempts to get his breathing back under control. “That was so very uncalled for.” He heaves, looking up at the now beeping microwave.
Offering him an embarrassed smile, you open the microwave and quickly retrieve his food in an attempt to make up for scarring the living daylights out of him. “Sorry Ned, I didn’t mean to frighten you. I uh, me and Peter aren’t exactly good anymore and I really need somewhere to chill. I know you mentioned living alone and I just, it would be so cool if-“ a frustrated sigh escapes your lips as your mind wanders back to yesterday. It seems so ridiculous that you’re the one who has to leave because Peter happened to get some living girlfriend.
“Hey, you’re good. Peter mentioned that you two got in a fight. I just don’t think he expected you to actually leave.” He replied as he took a bite of his food. Oh how you missed real food.
Another sigh left your lips as you shifted slightly on your feet, “So am I good to stay?” You tried again, cutting straight to the point this time.
“Yeah of course, having a ghost roommate is going to be sick dude.” He laughs, this time offering you a smile.
“Oh good, I was honestly worried I was going to have to stay here behind your back.”
Wait what?”
You brush off his confusion and turn on your heels instead, making your way over to his gaming console. “Peter and I normally play and let me tell you, I kick ass at Mario Cart if you dare to play me.” You tease offering the other controller to Ned. “You down?”
Ned’s smile widens as he takes the controller from you. “Oh it’s on.”
+++
The sun had already began to set by the time you and Ned had decided to make the responsible decision to put the game down. You had in fact kicked his ass at every single round of Mario Cart, but of course he had you beat at Super Smash Bros. “I don’t even think Peter is that fun,” Ned laughs as he puts away your guy’s controllers and turns off the game.
“That’s because I’m just so much cooler than Parker.” You giggle, getting up to stretch.
Ned turns to face you once again, giving you a kind smile. “Also, it’s totally freaky when you like disappear and only your hands are like there.”
You pause a moment, remembering Ned isn’t able to see you when you’re a ghost. “Oh shit, I totally forgot only Peter can see me because of his spider thingy.”
“So like, can you make any of your body visible while the rest is invisible? Or just your hands?” He asks, suddenly intrigued by this new information.
You give a small shrug before turning everything but your feet invisible, then your left leg, and then only your right eyebrow. Turning back fully visible you give Ned a smile, “I can do the Cheshire Cat thing,”
His eyes go wide as your body slowly fades and all that’s left is your smile. “That is the coolest thing I think I’ve ever seen. And I’m Spider-Man’s guy in the chair.”
“Guy in the chair? So like Peter’s sidekick?” You hum, turning fully visible again. Ned nods, eyes shifting over to the time.
“Yeah but guy in the chair sounds way better, also it’s getting really late.” He says, nodding at the clock on the oven. You look over your shoulder and realize he’s right, it was late.
“You’re right, we should probably get to bed.” You yawn, feeling yourself begin to shut down as if the sight of the time was an automatic trigger.
“I can take the couch if you want my bed?” Ned offers causing you to frown.
“Can’t we just share the bed?” You ask confused.
A blush spreads across Neds face as he looks to the side feeling suddenly awkward. “Share…A bed?”
“Me and Peter shared a bed.” You say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
Ned hesitates again, “Yeah but like, isn’t it a bit weird for us to share a bed?”
Your frown deepens as your teeth tug on your bottom lip. “We can sleep separately if you’d like, I just…I don’t like being alone. I was alone for so long. And I like the body heat. It was so cold, so damp, so dark, and I was so alone.”
Ned’s here shatters at your words, realizing you were talking about your death. “Y/N, I’m so so sorry, of course you can slee- wait damp?” He blurts out, completely thrown off.
Your eyes meet his and your pause as well. Your mind is suddenly shifting through your blurry memories. “Yes, it was damp. Like the air was damp, the walls had water on them…” you suddenly felt less confident in what you were saying. “And I was alone after the others stopped,” you pause again, realizing that you had blocked out most of these memories.
“Others?” Ned asked, just as confused as you were.
“Yes…the others, the other children were crying. And then it stopped. I could not see them, it was dark and my eyes were..I don’t know. I want to go to bed now, I don’t- I don’t like this.” Your voice cracked as tears began flowing down your puffy cheeks. Suddenly the thought of Peter’s warm embrace ran through your mind, making you wish you had never fought.
Ned nodded, grabbing your hand softly and leading you into his room. “Let’s get some rest okay?” He whispered as you both snuggled into bed. “You won’t be alone, I’ll stay right here.” He promised, letting you slip into a deep slumber.
+++
Ned rushed into the dinning hall to find Peter sitting with MJ. “We need to talk,” Ned wheezes, “it’s about Y/N/N,” he finishes once he catches his breath. Your name catches Peter’s attention quite quickly, the thought of you had been on his mind all last night. His bed had never felt so empty without you.
“Is she okay?” Peter asks quickly, feeling suddenly protective and a bit possessive over you.
“Debatable honestly, but none of that matters until we can talk alone,” Ned’s gaze shifts over to MJ, who looks a bit irritated that another girl was being talked about. “It’s uh, private.” He nods, signaling for Peter to follow him.
Peter hesitates, looking over to MJ, “I promise this will be quick, I uh- I just have to hear this.”
“Mhm, so who’s ‘Y/N/N?” MJ cuts in, still looking annoyed.
“Our neighbor,” Ned says quickly, “we all became friends when me and Peter moved in.”
“Uh huh, and why is it the first time I’m hearing about this girl?” She asks, still skeptical.
“Because Ned really likes her and we didn’t want to invite her into the friend group unless she said yes.” Peter replies quickly, sending Ned a pleading look.
Ned nods, “Mhm, huuugggeeee crush. Now let’s go this is life or death important.”
Peter sends one last apologetic smile MJ’s way before following Ned out to the courtyard.
“This better be good dude, my girlfriend can already tell something is up and the guilt of me kissing Y/N is eating me up.” Peter grumbles.
“Can elevators be damp?” Ned asks, turning to face Peter.
Peter pauses, his face falling. “What?”
Ned groans, “Dude I’m serious. Can an elevator be damp?”
“I mean, that seems a bit odd for an elevator to be damp.” Peter says slowly, “why?”
Ned nods, looking around to make sure no one was near them. “That’s what I thought too. But yesterday, Y/N mentioned that when she died it was damp. That wasn’t even the weirdest part though. She mentioned there being others.”
“Others?”
“Yeah, others. Which would have made sense except for the fact she also mentioned that she felt alone once the crying stopped. Peter, if the crying stopped that means the others died before her.” Ned said slowly.
Peter’s eyebrows furrowed, “That can’t be possible, she would’ve had to have died from the impact, she fell from too high up…”
“Exactly. Meaning she didn’t die from an elevator malfunction.”
“But the elevator story is true, it really did crash eight years ago, it’s still out of order because of how bad it was. That’s why they had to build the new one on the opposite end of the building, near your room. “ Peter explains.
“So then how did an elevator get completely obliterated to the point it can’t be fixed, not kill everyone on impact?”
Peter presses his lips together, “Then what the hell actually happened to Y/N?”
+++
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astxroiid · 8 months ago
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peter parker as written by astro
"Look, when you can do the things that I can, but you don't, and then bad things happen, they happen because of you."
✷ requests taken for: tasm! peter parker, mcu! peter parker, and comic! peter parker.
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series:
spiderhead // mcu!peter // spiderwoman!reader --- coming soon
✷ [based on spiderhead by cage the elephant] loving peter, hating Spiderman, being left for dead, and impossible secrets. Also the damn Lizard.
empire state of mind // tasm!peter 4.1k wc
✷ when you're long-time crush comes up to you, asking you out - you say yes right? But what happens if he misses the date? Also, what happens if you ask him on another date?
one shots:
queen sized bed // mcu!peter (nsfw/18+) 2.7k wc
✷ [based on a little death by the neighbourhood] after an avengers-level mission, you and peter find yourselves in a motel room with one bed and an ache between your thighs.
blurbs:
love stuff // mcu!peter (nsfw/18+)
✷ you take peter to his very first sex store.
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Requests for Peter Parker are currently open, please check other characters before requesting them.
Reminder: likes are appreciated but comments and reblogs are the desire. Remember they do more for authors and tumblrs than a like ever could.
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