#So they weren't lying that puss can BOOTS

[starscreamingg]

When the Shrek spinoff about the silly little cats gives you fully body chills and also makes you cry

[t-lostinworlds]

500 miles of fluff: peter + "this movie is really scary, but you're into it so i'm trying not to cover my face the whole time, but-what is that?" and "i mean... i-i'm cool with sharing the bed if you are"

-cutetomholland (ignore this if you get a lot of requests!!)

A/N: i couldn't stop laughing while writing this help. peter's the scaredy cat in this one. a mood. bc this is basically how i am with horror movies lmao. hope you like this @cutetomholland <3 also consider this my valentine's gift to everyone! (even tho there's nothing valentine-esque about this 😭)

peter parker x avenger!fem!reader | wc: 1.2k | best friends to lovers | prompts in bold!

You and Peter had the whole compound to yourselves.

He was yet to decide if that was a good or a bad thing.

Not when you two were in the cinema room taking absolute advantage of the new screen Tony bought that took up the whole wall along with the modified 3D glasses he helped tweak himself to make it more realistic and featherlight like you weren't wearing anything at all.

It was a great upgrade.

If only it wasn't a horror movie you were watching.

Peter's body jolted when a shadow crossed the screen.

"You okay?"

"Y-Yeah, yeah, I am perfectly fine."

"You look like you've just seen a ghost," you joked as if the main character in the movie wasn't being hunted by a ghost at this very moment.

"Ha. Funny." He rolled his eyes, pressing his tongue against his cheek to stop his smile at the sweet sound of your laugh.

He flinched when the house lights in the movie flickered.

"Peter, we can stop the movie if you want," you said, sincerity coating your tone. "If it's too scary for you, we can turn it off. I don't mind."

Shaking his head, he shot you a smile. "This movie is really scary, but you're into it so I'm trying not to cover my face the whole time, but—WHAT IS THAT?!"

Peter's eyes widened when he saw something crawling toward him, a distorted body of a girl, dark, long hair, eyes white, veiny, mangled face.

Then, it lunged, Peter shrieking at the top of his lungs as he jumped away from it, heart pounding, lungs heaving as he pressed his burning forehead against the cool concrete.

He only realized how far he'd leaped when he heard your laughter, right below him.

Peter was on the goddamn ceiling.

"Glad to know you're leaving me to fend for myself if some ghost attacks us," you snorted, head on the back of the couch to meet his eyes. "I didn't even know you could jump that high."

"Stupid 3D glasses," he grumbled, truly regretting his improvement on it. He glanced at the screen, yelping as he screwed his eyes shut. "Y/N! Don't fucking pause it there!"

"Oh shit! Sorry! I'm—" You burst out laughing, rolling onto the floor with a soft thud before you clicked back to the Netflix menu screen.

Peter glared as you clutched your stomach, throwing the glasses at you.

You only laughed harder.

"I hate you."

"No you don't."

Yeah, he truly didn't.

It was quite the opposite if he was honest.

"Come back down," you said in heaps of giggles, sitting back on the couch and tapping the cushion. "Let's watch the new Puss in Boots movie, get your mind off it."

•••

Sometime in the middle of the night, hours after you'd already bid your good nights and went to your separate rooms, a storm graced New York.

He was hoping it'd help cool the grueling heat. 

Peter was sweating.

It definitely wasn't because he'd been lying still on his back with the blankets pulled up to his chin, making sure his feet weren't out the duvet let alone hanging on the edge of the bed.

He flinched at the sudden crack of thunder.

He swallowed as his eyes darted around the room, the lamp on his bedside warming the walls.

Shit.

Now he was really thirsty.

"Oh my God," he groaned, throwing the blankets off him, shivering at the cold, conditioned air. "You're fucking Spider-Man, an Avenger. You've fought aliens. You can deal with a fucking ghost."

That was his mantra as he ventured out of his room and into the kitchen, over and over as he pulled out a glass from the cupboard, filled it with water, drank it empty, refilled. He said it repeatedly as he made his way back to his room.

But then he saw it.

A shadow moving on the wall.

There was a flash of lightning, his eyes widening as his blood ran cold.

Four limbs, twitching and convulsing as its body crawled down the stairs.

Thunder boomed.

Peter fucking ran.

High-pitched screams echoed through the compound, ones he didn't even know his vocal cords could ever achieve as he bolted down the halls toward the opposite direction.

Then he bumped into something, a body.

Peter fell on his ass with the most lady-like screech as he backed away from—

"Jesus Christ, Peter! It's me!"

He blinked, only for a second before he scrambled to his feet. You squeaked when he all but threw you on his shoulder, arms around you securely and ran toward the elevator.

"What the fuck are you doing!"

"Something's crawling down the stairs! She's coming to get us! We should leave!"

"Peter, STOP!" your voice boomed, stunning him enough for you to wiggle out of his hold and get your feet on the ground. You hastily cupped his face, exhaling deeply, "Breathe."

"B-But—"

"Nothing's coming to get us," you reassured, a soft smile on your lips. "FRIDAY, turn on all the lights, please."

"Yes, miss, Y/N."

Peter squinted at the sudden brightness, barely making out the slight tug on his arm as you interlaced your fingers together.

"Come on."

"I-I don't think it's a good idea to go back there."

"I'm sure it's nothing," you said, squeezing his hand. "You trust me, right?"

He did.

Frankly, he'd probably follow you anywhere even if it led to his death—most likely strangled by a ghost.

"See?" you hummed once you reached the stairs, squeezing his hand and gesturing towards the vacuum with four mechanical arms attached to it. "It's just a hoover."

"Who the fuck thought giving that thing tentacles was a good idea?"

"Easier for it to go down the stairs. Come on."

Peter didn't question where you were taking him next, but then all of a sudden he was standing in your room, brows furrowed as he watched you settle on the bed.

"Hey," you called, patting the space next to you. "Come here."

"B-Beside you?"

"I mean…I-I'm cool with sharing the bed if you are," you said, smiling shyly.

With heated cheeks, Peter climbed onto your twin-size bed, leaving enough space in between as he lay still, flat on his back, staring at the ceiling.

"That was so embarrassing," he grumbled, rubbing a palm over his warm face.

"Nothing to be embarrassed about. Horror movies just aren't for everyone and that's okay."

He turned to you. "You don't think I'm a coward?"

"Absolutely not," you said without hesitation, laying on your side to fully face him. "You're one of the bravest men I know, Pete."

"Except with creepy-looking ghosts."

"Yeah, except that," you giggled. "Go to sleep."

He sighed, smiling sadly. "I can't. It's stuck in my head."

You hummed, shuffling closer, the tip of your nose nudging his.

Peter held his breath, letting it out as a low hum when his lips met yours.

At last.

Fingers in his hair, your sweet sighs tickling his cheek, a taste of mint mixed with the taste of you was all that ran through his mind, rendering him dizzy, breathless.

"Does that help?" you whispered after a moment, thumb caressing his cheek tenderly.

Peter smiled. "Only when it includes cuddles."

You laughed, opening your arms wide, and he didn't even hesitate as he snuggled into them, cheek against your chest, your steady heartbeat and the warmth of your skin lulling him to sleep.

"Good night, Peter."

Who would've thought his cowardness when it came to horror films would finally get him the girl of his dreams?

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