#Spider-Man PS4 x reader

[hanasnx]

closure

MINORS DNI 18+ WARNINGS: sexual content | booty calling spider-man :)

PETER PARKER doesn't understand why he keeps letting you do this to him. Over and over again you tell him friendship is all you want, yet at the late hours of the night— since you know he's already up— you ask if he can afford a break. Like an idiot, he swings by. Doesn't even get the chance to take off the suit before you're shoving him down into a seat, straddling him to rub yourself all over his bulge.

"Hey, easy," he tells you, "you're gonna leave a wet spot." To protest you, his gloved hands cup the plush flesh of your backside, lifting you over him. That spider-strength has you weak in the knees, eagerly latching onto his neck over the cloth. A gasp emits from him as he maneuvers his erection from the confines of his suit and you mouth at his pulse point.

"Want- you, Spider. Need you." At the invoke of that nickname, he lulls his head back and you bite onto him in your enthusiasm. A delicious and low groan pours from his throat, from both the sensation and anticipation of being inside you again. Obediently, he lowers you, nudging your entrance with the head of his cock until he feels a give. You suck in a breath to feel that stretch, no one stretches you like Peter does.

"Fuck," he drags out the word, slowly reintroducing you to his every inch. Impatiently, you push down, as if you could ever hope to overpower him. The man has lifted buses. "Wait a second, baby, wait," His fingers dig into your skin, warning you that you're going too quick for your sake.

"I can't wait any longer, you took so long getting here," you whine, burying your nose into the crook of his shoulder. You can smell his sweat through it, the musk of recent exercise, prowling the streets of Manhattan looking for trouble. "Just fuck me already?"

Pete can't believe this is working on him. Yet again bowing to your whims because he's that desperate for your attention, that desperate for your touch. He can't lie, your impetuous begging for him and his dick strokes more than his ego, length twitching while half-seated inside you. "You want it that bad?" his tone betrays his hope.

"Yes! Yes, please, Pete," With your plea, your grip on him inflects with your syllables, rutting your body against him for any kind of friction, while his halt remains infallible. No matter how you wiggle, he won't let you sink further. At first it was to keep you from hurting yourself, now it's because he likes hearing your bargain for him. Those addicting lips glide up to his ear, and he can feel your breath on the shell of it through his mask. "Need my friendly neighborhood Spider-Man."

"You're gonna pull that card? Seriously?" his indignant question is adversely punctuated with a buck up into you and you cry out. It got you fucking wet. It spurs him on, working himself up to a steady pace as he fucks you. He can hear the sounds of the city through the open window, if sirens flew by right now he's not sure he'd have the strength to leave you.

Putty in his hands, your body acts as fluid as he uses it, and you're so grateful you reached out to him. Fucking a superhero is thrilling enough, but fucking Spider-Man has a perk you can't pass up. That spider bite may have gifted an extra couple inches to his cock, but you're more interested in his power to fuck you like a sex toy. Along for the ride, you bounce on him because he's moving you. Like you're nothing. Out of instinct, your lips clumsily find his on the cloth as you brush noses. Your tongue peeks out, the felt drying the tip and his lips shift under your touch.

Breathless and amused, he asks, "Are you trying to french me through the mask again?"

[lynnlovesspidahman]

this is me trying.

peter parker x reader

part 1. || part 2.

masterlist

warnings : None really, except for a few curse words here and there

word count : 1.5k

summary : Peter breaks up with you, randomly.

Also, I just want to make note that any Peter will work for this story, I just love the Insomniac’s version currently so I based it off of him 😭

You searched your pantry for something to eat.

You haven’t gone grocery shopping in a bit. You usually can count on Peter to take care of it for you, but he’s been extra busy lately.

Too busy, you thought. He was always so tired and seemed so overwhelmed. Sure, he’d been skipping out on some of your planned hangouts but you didn’t mind. He needed time to himself, and you fully respected that.

“Ooh, spaghetti..” You spoke to yourself.

You grabbed the box of angel hair and the tomato sauce from your pantry before closing it back up.

You bent down to grab the big pot from your bottom cabinet and filled it up with a decent amount of water.

You turned the heat on your oven and scrolled on your phone while leaning on the counter while waiting for it to boil.

“Hey, beautiful.” Peter appeared — literally — out of nowhere (a common occurrence, much to your disliking).

“Holy fuck-“ You gasped. “Okay, actually. Where do you come from? And how do you get in here so quietly?” You giggled as you approached him.

You stood on your tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.

“So? How are you?” You ask.

“Well.. Y’know, tired.”

“Trust me, I know.” It wasn’t hard to miss his recent demeanor, he was so much more exhausted lately. You felt bad that you couldn’t help him more than you did.

“Yeah,” He let out a breathy laugh.

You turned around to check if the water was boiling; it was. You poured the angel hair into the pot.

“Well,” You dropped your hands to your sides, “I’m cooking pasta, if you want some.” You smiled up at him.

“I can’t stay for long, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, okay. You can take some home if you’d like?” You offered, you didn’t want him going home hungry (he literally would only ever have toast at his place).

“Nah, I just wanted to talk to you real quick. I’m gonna be gone before it’s ready.”

“Oh? What’s up?” You raised your eyebrows. You can’t name the last time he had to talk to you about something (Never, ever was it something good).

“I’ve been thinking,” He started.

“That’s a first.” You joked.

“I’m being serious,” He spat.

This time you stayed quiet. What is up with him?

“I’ve been thinking,” He bit the inside of his cheek.

“Stop biting your cheek, Pete. Spit it out.”

“I dunno if we should be together anymore.”

You turned back towards him, absolutely confused.

“Haha,” You sarcastically commented, “Real funny, Pete. You know I don’t like when you joke like that.”

“I told you, I’m being serious.”

“What? Why? Where is this coming from?” You had so many questions for him, this was all so sudden.

“I- I don’t-” He sighed, before continuing on, “I’m sorry, beautiful.”

“No. You can’t just say sorry and not explain this to me. Where the hell did this come from, Peter? I don’t understand,” Tears already starting to well up in your eyes.

“We feel like a chore. It’s like I have to be here every night, I have to text you everyday.”

“Peter, what the fuck? I’ve never once thought we were a chore,” You almost laughed, but you couldn’t. More tears had quickly followed.

“I didn’t say you did.” He spat at you. When did he become so attitude-y?

“I know, but I didn’t do anything is my point. I’ve never forced you to come over, if anything I stay up every night waiting for you. I text you. I make sure you’re okay everyday,” You were so angry. He had absolutely no reason to break it off.

“It’s just- That’s my point. You do everything. And I can’t even try.” He sat down in one of your stools at the kitchen island.

“I can’t be my best around you, and when I try to it just feels like I’m forcing myself to. And I can’t do that.” He put his head down on the counter.

“I don’t need your best, I just want you,” You were perfectly content with your relationship, nothing was wrong with taking care of him.

“Are you even listening?” He shot his head back up and scowled at you.

“Let me put it this way, I can’t enjoy loving you, and I don’t know why. How ‘bout that? Is that what you want me to say?” He finally snapped.

You didn’t want to be around him anymore. It was becoming unbearable. If he wanted to leave you, then so be it.

“I’m-“ He sighed as he pushed his hair back with his hand, “I have to go.”

He got up from the stool, and walked out. He didn’t even spare you a glance.

You stared at that door for God knows how long, but were suddenly interrupted by the water overflowing the pot.

You overcooked the noodles, leaving them gummy and mushy. Nothing could save this meal.

“Fuck.”

He never makes any sense.

You sat there, on your couch. Blanket draped over your lap, not even able to pay attention to your favorite show on the TV.

It’s been two and a half weeks. Since that Tuesday. The Tuesday Peter broke your relationship off. It’s all you’ve been thinking about.

His reasons (?) didn’t make any sense. I mean, was he just trying to come up with something that sounded valid? You couldn’t tell.

There was one thing you couldn’t question though.

“I can’t enjoy loving you.”

It’s like it was unable to leave your brain. Were you so unloveable?

You knew it couldn’t have been the end of you and Peter completely, there was still things left unresolved. Sure, you might not get back together, but you couldn’t live without Peter in your life. You could settle for friends (Right?).

But even if you did come back to him (again), would he care?

Your relationship was going so well too.

There was only one fight before Tuesday.

Your relationship with Peter had rusted, permanently. No matter if it would resolve in the near future (if that was even possible). This one would stick around.

It didn’t just ruin the two of you, you felt it everywhere else in your life as well.

It felt so hard to even hang out with your friends, while the wounds Peter had dug into you were still open.

It was hard to be anywhere, when all you wanted was to be with him again.

He brought you comfort, safety. It felt like you were constantly missing something.

You tried to call him. A lot.

Straight to voicemail every time, though.

You just wanted to fix the strained relationship, you didn’t have to be with him again (maybe).

You still loved him, no denying that. And you told him, in those voicemails.

But you doubt he listened to a single one. He didn’t care about your relationship, or you anymore. You had to live with that.

You tried. You really fucking did. You tried to get ahead of the curve, and you did. But the curve became a sphere.

It had been 5 weeks after Tuesday, you were back to square one. You decided to clean your apartment. You found the Spidey plush. Peter bought it for you on your eighth month anniversary date. You hadn’t been able to find him for a while, and eventually you forgot you even had it. But when you checked under your bed for any missed laundry, it was the first thing you saw.

It hit you, hard. When you first found him you grabbed and squeezed him and sat on the floor, crying uncontrollably. You gave up on the deep clean, you were too upset. So you sat on your couch and felt like an absolute failure.

How could a fucking plush cut you so deep? The wounds you had started to finally live with, started to hurt just as bad as when Peter carved them into you.

You caved into your old ways. You called Peter. Each time it would ring, it gave you hope. Each time it would ring, would mean he still had a chance to pick up the phone.

But he didn’t. Straight to voicemail. You didn’t know what else you expected.

“Hey, Pete.” You sniffled, looking up at the ceiling so your tears would fall out of your eyes.

“I know, I know I keep calling. I’m sorry. But I-” You paused to catch a breath. “I can’t. I hate missing you, knowing you don’t feel the same. I hate that I continue to love you the same, to this day.”

“This will probably be the last call, so you can stop worrying about that. At first I wanted to fix us, one less thing to get worked up about. But now, I think I just want to learn how to live without you.”

(You lied through your teeth. You really didn’t. But admitting it to him was probably your best shot at being able to understand that for yourself.)

“I-I’m sorry. Goodbye, Pete.”

You ended the voicemail. You sat there, on your couch, with Spidey next to you, staring at nothing.

You wanted to at least let him know you were trying, maybe then you wouldn’t seem as pathetic as you actually were.

Your phone unexpectedly pinged, interrupting your ongoing thoughts.

9:52 PM

Peter 🕸️ : Hey, beautiful.

Hi, if you’re just so happening to be re-reading this story, you’ll notice I changed up literally everything. The first version was literal ass and I hated it. So I’m hoping you’ve enjoyed it!

But if you’ve just read this for the first time, be glad you didn’t see the other one, lol.

I love you all and all of the support you’ve been giving me 🥹💗

Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated!!

[bunbunemoji]

this scene was very peter parker / spider-man of her

[lanae111]

THE BOY IS MINE‼️

[int-writersmind]

Fragile

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: The first night you and Peter are intimate together...

Part 3 of Potential Customer (could be read as a standalone)

Warnings: Smut, smut, (semi-dirty) Smut, unprotected sex (whoops), little Fluff at the end

Word Count: 1.7k

Authors Note: This series started off pretty gn w/ the Reader so I tried my best to carry that on w/ this part. Forgive me if isn't that great, I'm a cis woman trying her best, Enjoy!

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“Is this ok?” Peter asks.

“Yes. It. Is. You flop against your bed, elbows holding yourself up, slowly opening your legs, giving Peter space to situate himself in between. He stands there for a moment looking you up and down before leaning over you. “Are you down?”

“Hell yes.”

He quickly kisses you on your lips before going to your neck, peppering more down your throat. Your fingers go to the front of his shirt, pushing the buttons through the loops. His hands go to your pants, slowly unbuttoning, then pushing them down. You peel off his shirt as you reach the last of the buttons, his hands trailing up your body, bringing your shirt upwards and over your head. He brings his hands down your body, down your chest, fingers gliding over your skin, leaving goosebumps in their absence. His fingers wrap around the waistband of your pants, pulling them off in one easy swoop. 

As your hands go towards Peter’s pants you catch him looking you up and down, his eyes practically memorizing your skin. “Gosh, you’re making me nervous…” You say.

Peter’s eyes immediately go to yours, “I don’t mean to, just…taking everything in” He goes towards your ear, dropping his voice to a whisper. “I’m making sure I don’t forget a single thing.” You chuckle as you push his pants down, Peter helping, making sure it comes off. Your fingers creeping towards Peter’s waistband are going to pull them down— ”You sure? Last chance to change your mind.”

“Whatever you’re hiding, Peter Parker, I wanna see.” You push his underwear down all the way, fighting the urge to look down. You fail, of course, face turning red, you bring your eyes back up to meet Peter’s. He kisses your smirk away, bringing a hand in between your legs, touching you in ways that make your eyes shut, his hand movements making you gasp and struggle under his touch. “Oh..my…”

Peter’s hands pick up the pace, causing that heat in the low of your stomach to grow. You feel yourself reaching your peak before Peter takes his hand away, causing you to groan in response. “...Not yet” Peter whispers, bringing his hand up to his mouth and licking away your excess from his fingers. 

His hands take your hips and pull them closer to him, one hand gripping onto your hip, the other guiding himself inside of you. You wince the deeper he goes, and you gasp, going to clutch his shoulder.

“Am I hurting you?” Peter whispers.

“Oh god no,” You bring one hand to his face and using the back of your hand softly graze his face. “I don’t think you could ever hurt me.”

Peter bends down, placing a kiss on your lips as he starts to move, slowly at first, gentle, perhaps a little too gentle for you.

“I’m not fragile, you know?” Your voice is low and soft. 

“I know.”

“You’re not gonna hurt me.”

“I know.”

“Then Peter,” You grip his chin, keeping his face straight on yours. “Pick up the fucking pace.” You both laugh as Peter does in fact take your suggestion into consideration, snapping his hips into you, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head.  

As Peter keeps up the pace, he grips your headboard, leaving a slight dent in the metal that you don’t notice until the next day. His head falls into the crook of your neck, nipping at the sweaty skin. 

Your hands graze his back, feeling the curves of his moving muscles, fingers falling into the dip of his shoulder blades. One hand going to the low of his back, slowly pushing downward, giving him permission to go deeper, opening more of yourself to him.

Peter looks down, his hair damp causing it to curl and stick to his forehead, his sweat making him almost glow. Your eyes catch one another, neither one of you daring to break contact. The arm resting on the headboard falls to rest next to your head, the other caressing the side of your leg. Peter slows the pace, but not the pressure. “Oh god, I-” Peter struggles to get out. “I-”

One of your hands snakes their way from nape to scalp, gently massaging his roots. “Tell me what you want.” You respond.

“I-uh-” His head dips forward to kiss you, on the chin first, then the side of your face, to behind your ear. “God-I-”

You gently tug his head backward so that your eyes are finally meeting together once again, his movement stills for a moment. “I want you to use your words, sweetheart.”

Peter laughs at this, “I think I’m the one that is supposed to say that.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” You move up and gently bite him on the ear, “Plus I can’t imagine you saying that.”

Peter growls just slightly, “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me” His mouth moves to your ear, “Like all the naughty things I want to say to you, want to do to you.”

The two of you look at one another again, holding intense eye contact before breaking out into laughter. “Well, so? Do I get the part?” Peter asks.

“Shut the fuck up…” 

The two of you embrace in a hot, messy, kiss, your arm hooking him closer, tongues entering each other's mouth.

“I want you,” Peter says between gaps of kissing, breathless, “Not just now, but every night, just like this.”

The two of you break away from one another, Peter looking down smiling such a genuine smile that you couldn’t help but blush from this intimacy, from his vulnerability. Thank god you didn’t call out of work that day.

“Ditto.” Was all you managed to say, you smiled back, causing him to chuckle and grin in response.

You turn on your stomach, Peter placing kisses down from the nape of your neck down to your tailbone. He gently lifts your hips, before guiding himself into you once again.

A sigh falls from your lips at the familiar feeling inside of you, Peter’s hips crashing into you, pressing you into the bed farther and farther, one hand going between your legs, pleasuring yourself.

Peter’s head leans down, resting on your shoulder, his moans and groans turning you on more than anything he was doing physically. One of your hands, resting on the bed, is soon covered by Peter’s, his hand interlocking with yours, squeezing, and squeezing and squeezing–

“Ow, Peter-”

Peter quickly stops everything, lifting his head from your shoulder. “Oh God, I, I-”

“Hey,” You turn your head, craning to see his worried face. “Accidents happen, and remember I’m not fragile.” You turn on your back once more, careful to not let him slip out of you. “Just keep your eyes on me, babe, keep your eyes on me.

You hold his face in both your hands, pulling him for another kiss on the lips, then another on one side of his face “Darling,” Than another on the other side, “Honey,”

“God, we gotta talk about this obsession with pet names,” Peter responds, the panic finally leaving his face.

You giggle back, “Only after you fuck me like you did earlier.”

You hold each other's attention as Peter does just that, eyes never leaving each other, noses so close that with every thrust his nose brushes against yours. You bring one hand in between your legs, making quick work to bring yourself back to the edge, so close you could trip into pleasure. “Ah, ah- oh god, Peter…”

Waves of pleasure spread throughout your body, the heat that built in the lower part of your stomach spreading to every inch. You throb against Peter inside you, with him continuing his pace, until he’s burying his head in the crook of your neck, groaning as he releases inside of you, pressing your bodies against one another. 

Letting some of his body weight on you, Peter lifts his head so he can look at you, glancing back, spent, but happy.

Seemingly untired from the whole ordeal, Peter climbs up your body kissing you again, deeply, passionately, as if he didn’t know you would escape and never come back. 

Tired, you kiss back, running your hands through his hair as you do so. As Peter finally looks into your eyes. “God we are so sweaty.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, “You’re so fucking…I don’t even…I don’t even know.”

Peter takes himself out of you, shifting so he lays next to you, leaning over to look at you. “You know what? I’m gonna have to wash that dirty mouth of yours.”

“Oh please,” You go to thwack Peter on the forehead with your pointer finger flicking from your thumb. “Weren’t you the one that had naughty things to say to me?”

He catches your wrist effortlessly, placing a kiss on the inside, “Doesn’t count, I was under a lustful haze.”

“Fuck you!” You say, laughing as his head turns to face you.

“You already did.”

You roll your eyes before sitting up and placing a kiss on Peter’s lips. “Don’t go anywhere I gotta pee.”

And you do so, as Peter remains on the bed, arms crossed behind his head, an image that makes you chuckle as you come back. “God, you-you look even better now.”

“You’re only saying that ‘cause I’m literally naked.” You climb back in bed, turning to lay on your side to face him. 

“Maybe,” He turns to his side as well, “But I would say that to you even if you wore twenty layers of the heaviest of snow clothes.”

“Yeah maybe to yourself”

“Ugh, just get over here!”

The two of you just laugh as Peter pulls you into his chest, turning you around so that your back is now flush against his chest.

“Ugh, Pete, I’m sticky and hot.”

“I really don’t care.”

You reach back to play once again with his hair, “But I’m sweaty, so, so sweaty.”

“God, you could say a million other things and it wouldn’t matter,” He lifts his head so his lips are close to your ear, “I want you.”

“And I want you.” You strain your neck to see him, “Only for your body, of course.”

“Of course”

The two of you laugh as the moonlight shines through the window, illuminating a conversion that no one else will hear, but would be the start of something amazing to the both of you.

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Hey thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed, Part 4 (the final part) will be out Sunday. Hope to see you there 😜

masterlist

[multi-fandom-enjoyer]

Peter opens a window and crawls through it to see Miles and Y/n on the floor laughing.

Peter: Silly string? Really?

Miles: April fools!

Y/n: Sorry we couldn't help ourselves.

Peter: How many people have you pranked today?

Y/n: Not many just you, Felicia, Strange, Logan-

Logan: Y/n!!!

Y/n: Oh crap...

The apartment door flies off its hinges, causing you to jump out the window and swing away.

Logan runs to the window after you, with nail polished covering his claws.

[meiluu]

Tis' The Season

Peter Parker one-shot

Peter Parker/ Female Reader can be any peter :) cw: SMUT 18+ MDNI, this is basically pure filth that came to me in a dream and i had to write it, mating season *wink*, breeding kink, creampie, feral and protective peter.

*not edited*

peter pov.

When Peter got bit by that radioactive spider, then waking up in a new body, being able to do what he thought was impossible. He thought that he would be the only one in the world who was like him. But as the universe would have it, there was another.

 It had been a rather uneventful day of swinging around New York, catching would-be robbers or the occasional purse snatcher, when he had decided to take a different route back to his apartment. He didn't know why his body acted on its own accord- almost like it was possessed and on a mission. Slowing down his pace, quietly landing on the roof of a building his eyes locked onto a girl. She was carrying a couple of boxes into what Peter assumes is her new apartment. But the moment he's able to get a full look at her his spider senses are buzzing, electricity shooting down his back. 

This was a wholly new sensation, whenever his senses went off it usually indicated danger and sent his blood rushing as his body pumped adrenaline into his veins. but this- it was like a melody, a soft tune that lulled his body into a state of comfort and familiarity. It was like his body was telling him to go to her. Though embarrassingly enough Peter had been gawking at her and with his senses singing around him it was almost like they sent a message to her because in a quick motion she was looking out the window and towards peter. Thankfully enough Peter was quick enough to duck down, getting cover from the edge of the roof, shielding himself from her view. A huff left his lips, god what is wrong with me?, a multitude of thoughts ran through his head a majority of them shaming Peter for being a creep. Although a small portion of those thoughts were relishing in what they had just witnessed, She was so beautiful...

With that little encounter Peter was quick to head home, hoping to forget the weird experience. 

It was a few months later that Peter would eventually meet her again. Throughout those months Peter would always feel that same soft and comfortable feeling in the back of his mind, like she was always near him. Come to find out she had actually been following Spider-Man, but it proved more than difficult to follow the superhero. She had been essentially guessing on where he would possibly show up, hoping to get lucky and catch a chance to talk to him. Whenever y/n moved into her new apartment she had mainly locked herself up, given the drastic and terrifying changes her body was undergoing, she never got the chance to turn on her t.v. But when she did, a surge of hope blossomed within her chest. Spider-Man was the source of that hope. After doing a bit of investigating she was able to uncover that he was someone like her, maybe not bitten like her but he showcased all the things that were happening to her. And so she made it her mission to talk to him- and to hopefully find out more about herself, and to maybe make a friend along the way.

And that day finally came, after spending a couple of hours on the roof of a building where Spider-Man frequented- there he was, standing right before her. Her senses buzzed in pure happiness, and his senses were singing to him. "Hey." Peter was breathless, lost in the feeling that was coursing through him and it didn't help that she was absolutely angelic looking as the sun casted a golden glow upon her skin. "Hi." a timid voice was all she could muster, all her words becoming stuck within her throat.

And from that day onwards they become each other's salvation. Finally after coming to the conclusion that Peter would be the only one that was like him, it was a very welcomed surprise to find someone who was just like him. Your relationship started off slowly, as you both got to understand how you both were changed- answering one another questions. you both moved onto asking questions like, "Which star wars movie is your favorite?", "what’s your favorite place to get pizza?". Then one day it was, "Can I show you who I am?".

The day that Peter took off his mask was a day neither of you would forget. That day Peter felt a weight be lifted from his shoulders, no longer held back by the barrier that the mask created he could finally be with you as Peter parker. 

Slowly lifting the mask from his face, his eyes locking onto yours. Your face split into a smile so big your cheeks had started to hurt. His brown locks were messy from being underneath the mask- and he was so handsome, you were utterly lost in his visage. Peter had been slowly inching his way towards you, getting close enough to catch onto your familiar scent and warmth. Looking down at you Peter raised his free hand, gently cupping your cheek. "Can I kiss you?" his voice was nothing but whisper meant only for you. "Yes, please." your cheeks where dusted in a rosy blush, and with such care Peter leaned down enveloping your lips with his. Dropping his mask, he now has both hands cupping your face like you were made of porcelain glass. Sweet and soft lips, dance together- you lips tasting like your favorite lip-gloss. Gathering up the courage Peter tentatively bites your bottom lip, asking so sweetly for entrance. Opening your mouth your flooded by the undeniable taste of him. Unashamedly you'll admit that you and Peter spent the better part of that day making out, until the sun set behind the horizon, and only then did you both finally separate from each others embrace. And from that your relationship reached a whole new level, trust within each other bloomed and with that came love, an unfathomable amount of love for one another.

—

You and Peter had been together for a little over a year now, your bond with one another growing with each passing day- and with that growth came a new discovery. After being together for an extended amount of time your senses along with Peter's had become attuned with one another's. You could feel Peter's presence from halfway across the city, and that went for Peter as well. He would catch himself periodically checking up on you while he was swinging throughout the city. And no matter where he was he would always find his way to you, with your senses always calling out to him.

Peter had woken up this morning, turning on his side and seeing you buried within the sheets of his bed, heart swelling at the sweet sight. And like any morning he had, he got up to start his routine but something was off. His senses felt like they were in hypervigilance, with this looming feeling that he needed to secure his apartment, hairs raising and goosebumps erupting across his skin. Peter had quickly thrown on his suit and started patrolling the area around his apartment. Although Peter didn't understand why he had this need, seeing as his apartment was well protected by the many gadgets he had implemented, as well as it being high above the city in a nice area. But he followed his instincts, seeing as they have never proved him wrong before… and it wasn’t like he could ignore them. So he spent the next few hours making sure that there were no threats around his home. And like a timer going off his body completely switched its motion, senses now wholly focused on you. He needed to get home now. Quickly maneuvering through an open window, landing softly on his feet, his mind and body on a one track mission on finding you. Giving into his senses he allows his body to guide him to you.

Opening the door to his bedroom, he is immediately hit with your mouth watering scent permeating throughout the room. And with his eyes zeroing in on you he sees you webbing- his mind pauses at what he is seeing, how can you be webbing anything without his web cartridges'? Then he’s whipping his head down to his own wrists seeing how he never reloaded his web-shooters before he left this morning. How did he not notice that he was producing organic webs? But before he was able to begin his theories his mind had begun to solely focus on you, your scent and watching as you made some sort of nest. The nest so far consisted of your duvet cover, pillows, and was all being held up by your webs. A part of him wants to go up to you but the more instinctual part of him tells him to wait, telling him that what you are doing is very important and you needed all your focus upon what you were doing.

With one last pillow, Peter's senses buzz with your call- you were using your senses to communicate with him. Your hair was still untamed from sleeping all night, but you looked so beautiful right at this moment. Sitting perched in your nest eyes full of love as your senses begged Peter to come to you. And in a swift movement Peter is jumping and latching onto the ceiling crawling his way towards you. Reaching you, Peter envelopes you within his strong embrace, burying his head within the crook of your neck. mumbles of 'I love you.', 'So pretty.' , 'Smell so good.' tumble from Peters lips. You sigh at the praise, reciprocating his love tenfold.

Through the soft kisses that Peter litters across your face, reaching your mouth his tongue dives in dancing with yours. The heat within him grows. A need so strong it has him whimpering into your mouth- and it seems you are on the same page. Hurriedly discarding each other's clothes, a wave of relief floods through him, finally feeling your bare skin. "Baby-Fuck." Peter groans as his fingers get a feel of how wet you are. A needy whimper leaves your slightly swollen lips, "Peter...please, I need you so bad." Peter's entire body tenses up at your words, a near-growl rumbling from within his chest echoes around you two. Spreading your legs, giving Peter an open invitation to fuck you, and he accepts it without hesitation. Lining his aching cock that's dripping pre-cum at your cunt, only a moment later is Peter sinking into you. Satisfied noises of pleasure leave the both of you, pushing to the hilt- hips flushed with one another. Peter is leaning over, his face over yours, and his arms are snugly wrapped around your body.

Grinding his cock further into you, eyes rolling back at the feel of your walls trying to suck him in further. Another whimper of Peter's name has him losing all semblance of care as he starts at a rough and fast pace. Your cunt is warm and dripping, and with every harsh thrust of Peter's hips it has your eyes rolling into the back of your head- moans of pleasure being punched out of you with every harsh plunge of his cock. Latching onto his muscular back, trying to keep yourself grounded to him- seeing as it's not enough you twist your head to the side biting down hard into the skin where his shoulder and neck meet. A loud 'Fuck' accompanied with your name tumbles from Peter's lips. Manhandling you, Peter moves your legs to rest upon his shoulders as he latches onto the blanket and pillows around you. Fucking into you with every bit of strength within him, mind and body on the sole mission to mate you and to truly make you his. Your body in tune with his, you are spreading your legs wider as your hands latch onto Peter's backside, trying to communicate with Peter but failing as a messy jumble of words is all you can muster. But thankfully Peter catches onto your message, sliding his hand down to your backside he tilts your hips upwards towards him. Allowing him to reach so deep into you, you swear you could feel him within your throat. Thrust after thrust, you feel yourself reaching closer to euphoria, thighs quivering in anticipation as your cunt continues to dribble its arousal around Peters pistoning cock. Leaving one side of Peter's backside you snake your free hand to your clit. Rubbing hasty circles around the bundle of nerves, and not too soon later you're cumming. Cunt rhythmically squeezing around Peter's cock, begging it to fill you. A moan tumbles from Peter's lips as he feels your walls tighten around him, feeling hot pleasure roll down his back before he feels himself cumming into you. Sloppy thrusts of Peter riding out both of your highs slowly come to a stop. Breathless and flushed in residual pleasure you both gently turn to your sides, making sure to stay connected as you both come down from your highs. Exhaustion is quick to take you both, wrapped in each other's embrace, still connected as one. 

Peter doesn’t know what time it is when he wakes, all he knows is that he needs you and you need him. Maneuvering you onto your hands and knees, sinking into you. A pleasure filled moan falls from your lips, jutting your hips up giving Peter a better angle to fuck you deeper. Hips pistoning into you, latching onto the blankets around you trying to keep yourself steady with Peter's brutal thrusts. Unhappy with how far apart you are Peter is leaning forward, front to your back. Face right next to your ear. Your mind is soon flooded with the sounds of Peter's pleasure. A moan  leaves you as Peter bites down onto your shoulder, and brings one of his hands to your clit. Swirling his fingers around your bundle of nerves, your body is quick to go pliant under him. Letting him fuck and fill you to his content, your body sings in happiness when you cum around his cock and Peter is soon to follow in your lead. Warmth pools within your belly, a content smile takes over your face. And with that you are snuggling deeper into your nest, falling back asleep.

Peter huffs out a breath, slowly removing himself from your cunt. His mind is the most clear it’s been since the last time he was awake. Making sure you are secure in your bundle of blankets, Peter quietly descends from your nest, putting on a pair of sweats. Now Peters mind is trying to figure out how long you’ve both been in your nest, doing nothing else but fucking. In the haze of his memories he sees that he would periodically leave the nest to get you both feed, would fuck again and then fall asleep with you. Peter heads over to his phone, quickly doing mental math…and shit he’s been with you for nearly 5 days! But before he can stress about that fact, his senses are going into overdrive.

Someone was coming to his door. Thankfully the apartment was dark, with the only illumination being from the full moon seeping in through the curtains. Peter is jumping to the ceiling, a whirlwind of protectiveness and anger swirling within his chest. Then he hears the front door open. Using the shadows to his advantage, Peter is quietly crawling into the living room. His mind is flooding with all the ways he could kill the intruder. Looking down from the ceiling he can make out a couple of figures, voices merging together. Readying his arm, waiting until…Now! With fast and precise movements he’s webbing the intruders to the adjacent wall, but before he can web up the last intruder his mind is halted by his voice being called out. “Peter! What the hell kid!” Tony’s voice rings through his head. “Jarvis, turn on the lights.” Light floods the living room, and with it Peter is able to see Tony with his hands up in surrender. And to the adjacent wall he sees, Steve, Bucky and Sam webbed to the wall. Mind reeling at what he sees, shame floods through his body. He was going to kill them! What is wrong with him…”Kid, you need to calm down- or you're going to pass out.” Tony's voice is soothing, and with that Peters is able to realize he’s been hyperventilating. Slowly calming his breathing, he lowers his arm backing away from Tony. “What, what are you doing here?” Peter's voice is barely above a whisper. A concerned look crosses Tony’s face, “Kid you’ve been M.I.A for 5 days, we were getting worried when you didn’t respond to us.” Peter's body is slowly relaxing, “I- I’m sorry, I’ve been…busy.” Cringing internally at the word ‘busy’. “Kid, you're gonna have to give me more than just ‘busy’. We haven’t seen you in 5 days, no sight of you swinging around New York. Thank god you have Jarvis installed, because without him we wouldn’t even know if you were alive.” 

Peter's gut churns, shame and guilt swirling within him. “Can I come by the tower tomorrow, then I can explain everything.” Tony has a sympathetic look upon his face, “Peter-“ Peter soon stops listening to him when he feels his senses buzz, you are awake and you're terrified. Worried that Peter wasn’t there when you awoke to what sounded like a fight going on in the living room. Whipping his head to the bedroom, he tries to communicate that you needed to stay in the bedroom. Then in the corner of his eye he sees Tony moving towards him- getting closer to you. “No! Stay back, don’t take another step.” Shock mars Tony’s features, Peter had growled out his words. They were nothing short of a command, his face was painted in anger and fierce protectiveness. Arms ready to web him to the wall. “Kid! I’m not gonna hurt you.” 

“I know that but I can’t let you get closer to her, you guys need to leave. Please..” Tony takes a moment before nodding his hand and then makes his way to the others that have been stuck to the wall this entire time. Quickly cutting them free, Peter watches as they eventually leave, now his body can finally truly relax. Shoulders slumping in relief. But that relief is short lived with the weight of what he was supposed to do now.

How in the world was he going to explain this Tony and to you now that you’re awake?!

[periprose]

Heyyy I’m literally playing through ps4 Spider-Man again 🤣!

I was wondering if I could request a ps4 fic, maybe Peter and reader have been dating for a while, and she gets hurt during the explosion and he can’t find her but she’s with may at feast with like a broken arm or something?? (She knows he’s Spider-Man) 👀🫶🏼

hey lol thanks for requesting! I'm on the first playthrough of the game myself. Basically this is set during the explosion at the election event in the game, and Peter and you are there to proudly watch Officer Davis accept his award.

/

"Hey." Peter comes up from behind you on the sidewalk, fixing wrinkles in his civilian clothes. He must've just changed.

"Hey, Parker." You nudge him. "Ready to go watch Osborn smooch up to the well-meaning audience of Manhattan?"

"Well, ready as I'll ever be." Peter takes your hand. "I'm really just there to watch Davis get his well-deserving award, y'know. Hey, didn't I tell you to stop calling me Parker?"

"Meh, you love it." You joke. "You'll always be Parker to me, even if you are my boyfriend now. It's our thing."

Peter shakes his head, but you know based on his little smile- he loves that you have a little thing just for him.

Together, you walk to the intersection in front of City Hall, where many people crowd around, waiting for Mayor Osborn and whatever speech he's about to give today. They're all dressed in Osborn themed merchandise, cheering and clapping.

You can't believe this many people care about Osborn's so-called promises to the city- you and Peter are really hoping he won't be re-elected this term after all- but people are clapping for him, and you sigh knowing that your cost of living is about to go up.

"Hey. Wipe that frown off your face. We're here to be supportive." Peter whispers from next to you in the crowd, and you nod.

"Where's Davis? Is that him?" You whisper back, pointing to an older black man up on the stage.

"Yup. You wouldn't believe it, he was so helpful in Hell's Kitchen. Dude whipped out his gun and had my back like we've been best buds for years." Peter smiles. "There's not many out there doing it like him."

"He sounds like a real treasure. I'm glad you have someone on your side." You squeeze Peter's hand, and continue to look up towards the stage in mild excitement.

You don't really care for Osborn's speech- Peter laughs about his promise to open up technology for NYC when you both know that's reserved for the elite- but you both grin when Davis, looking nervous as ever, walks up the stage to receive his award.

"It is my privilege to present Officer Jefferson Davis with the Department Medal of Honour." Osborn hangs a medal around Davis' neck, and you and Peter clap.

"I'm so glad this is all over. The gang war, I think." Peter whispers to you, and you raise your eyebrows.

"Really? Does this mean you'll finally be a little safer?" You ask, but Peter frowns a little.

"Well, there's some loose ends still to be tied up, but-"

"Loose ends?" You give him a wary glance. "Like what?"

"Like whatever 'Consolidated Shipping' is. It doesn't make sense." Peter sighs, watching concern grow on your face. "It's not right, but I'll figure it out."

Davis says a few words- he thanks his wife and his son, Miles, who you can see is sitting up at the front of the stage.

"Aw, cute kid." You remark to Peter, and he nods, gaining a slightly sheepish smile.

"Officer Davis did say I remind him of his son. I'll take it as a compliment." Peter jokes, and you snicker, calling him even more of a baby.

Behind you, Sable guards are talking on their walkie talkies about "keeping eyes on Osborn," which to you sounds as if they perceive a threat. You turn back to tell Peter, when he suddenly flinches.

"Peter-?"

He grabs his head, panicking- you watch as his pupils dilate, and he's clearly in some kind of shock.

"Everything feels off-" Peter flinches again, and you know he's having a Spider-Sense meltdown. There must be multiple things happening at once- even worse, you're not sure what he's supposed to do in this situation. He's not suited up, and he risks revealing his identity if he does anything.

Either way, Peter runs behind you. He shoves people out of the way, trying to get to the back of the event, behind the audience, but he's not fast enough. There are men arriving out of cars- corrupted men, turning that strange grey-blue-transparent hue that confirms their connection with Martin Li.

Peter runs- he dashes- but you see him flinch again, cowering under such threatening energy. He turns to the stage in horror, and you gasp in shock.

There's another corrupted on stage, covered in explosive devices.

An explosion goes off behind you, to the right of you, than another massive one on stage- the ground shakes beneath you, and you're too in shock to move.

"Get down!" Peter shoves you back, attempting to push you out of the way, just as another two explosions cause the earth under you to rattle, and you lose your footing and fall back on the pavement. You twist your arm unnaturally and hit your head.

You black out, the last thing you see being massive blue-black explosions in the sky.

/

Peter wakes to floating ash in the sky.

He coughs- there's a sharp pain in his right side, and a slight ache at the top of his hairline- he touches his forehead and pulls his fingers away to see brown-red, dry blood.

It doesn't matter. He'll heal faster than most, anyways- he needs to locate you.

He gets up, seizes a little due to the pain- and to his alarm, you're nowhere in his near sight. He walks around seeing Sable guards help people off the streets- although Peter really thinks they're poking and prodding and shoving them away, so they can clean up the mess around here.

He hopes you haven't been taken away by Sable guards.

Peter rushes to the nearest clinic- but there's too many people crowding around there with their injuries, and the receptionist at the emergency room tells him there's no one by your name here.

He begins to panic. You're not responding to his calls, either. Peter doesn't want to believe the worst could've happened to you, but he does hear people talking on the streets about the casualties. Apparently at least 10 people have been found dead so far- Peter starts swearing under his breath.

He decides to head to FEAST- he's not sure if you'll be there, but it's better to ask Aunt May or some of the volunteers if you've been seen. FEAST also operates as an emergency medical clinic, too, even with limited supplies, and it's with this small amount of hope that Peter travels there.

Pushing through the doors, the front desk woman- Amanda- she's startled by how intensely Peter asks about you.

"I don't know, Peter." She points to the main auditorium, where many homeless and injured people are currently being attended to. "It's kind of an open house back here- you're going to have to look through the crowds."

Peter sighs. "Thanks, Amanda."

It takes him about fifteen minutes to do a full, quick walkthrough. The entire time, his heartbeat thumps faster as he realizes- he's not seeing you anywhere. There's nobody wearing your trademark scarf, your usual dark blue jeans- nobody with your fastidious expression, where you always seem to take in the entire world before speaking- nobody to relieve the steady ache in his heart.

Peter walks into the room full of medical supplies, expecting to see Aunt May- and while May is there, busy with another volunteer, the first thing he sees is you, with your hair all disheveled and messy, bruises on your cheek and a cut under your lip, and your arm wrapped in a cast and a sling.

But you have a soft, comforting smile. You're kneeling down to help a little girl- she can't be older than five- and you're placing a bandage on her knee. And the little girl squeals, hugging you after you say "It's all better now."

Peter would agree with that.

You look up, arms still embraced around the little girl- Rina is her name- to see Peter, looking wistful, sad, a clear lump in his throat. His eyes are watery.

"Peter?" You watch as he comes forward.

"I thought you were- I thought..." He wipes his eyes. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"Well, Little Rina over here needed a little bit of medical attention." You kindly tap her shoulder and she nods up at Peter, smiling. "She tripped and fell and no one was paying attention to her knee, so I decided to help her."

"That's..." Peter trails off, wondering how you could be so selfless when your own face was looking a bit worse for wear. "That's sweet of you to do. How do you feel, kiddo?"

He kneels towards her, and she grins really big. "Better!"

"Alright, high five then." Peter high fives her, and she dashes off afterwards, most likely looking for the parent she came with.

"Why didn't you respond to my calls?" Peter asks you as soon as you turn back to him. "I thought... I thought the worst had happened-"

"Peter, please. Stop with the wounded ego." May calls him out, listening from the sidelines. "What's important is that she's safe and in one piece- that's more than enough to feel grateful about."

Peter looks down, ashamed. He knows May is right, and he has to swallow his pride for a moment.

"I'm sorry, Peter." You grasp his hand, and he looks back at you, jaw tight as he listens. "I didn't mean to not answer your calls- my phone got shattered. And I didn't know where to find you after I woke up- I was already being taken away by Sable guards to 'safety' and then I decided my best chance to find you was over here."

"Oh." Peter feels kind of dumb, but he also feels glad you think of FEAST as a spot to find him. "I should've kept you safe."

"Don't. Don't make yourself crazy with what you could've done." You plead with him, and he sighs but shakes his head. "My arm will heal with time. I guess I landed on it weirdly and broke it."

Peter winces. "Well, you can always ask me for help if it bothers you. I'm there for you."

He traces your lip, where the cut under is still a red-brown, harsh hue in comparison to the pink of your bottom lip, and May takes this as her cue to leave.

Peter snorts. "I wish you had my-"

"Super healing? Yeah, I wish that too." You laugh. "Were you lucky enough to not get hit, or did you just heal on the way here?"

Peter's reaching for a facial bandage and some rubbing alcohol. "The latter."

"Ugh, lucky bastard." You smile up at him, cringing only slightly as Peter rubs away the blood from your wound. "I'm just glad that means I don't have to worry too much about you."

"You still do." Peter remarks, placing the bandage on your face. "But that just means you love me."

And, being ever so thankful that you're safely back in his arms, Peter places a soft kiss on your forehead, and then a slightly-less-soft one on your mouth, hoping it doesn't hurt you, but happy that you kiss him back anyways.

[jinnieblue]

swinging through — peter parker *TEASER*

summary: her whole teen life had revolved around her dorky next-door neighbor, Peter Parker but that was five years ago, now, at twenty, she’s got her eyes set on a new bo—no, man; Spider-Man.

warning: minor age gap (three years), suggestive themes (reader likes the mask), mentions of blood/injuries, angst with a happy ending, not actually unrequited love, fem pronouns used, nicknames used instead of y/n, kinda sarcastic!reader,

theme song: another soul-mico

teaser wc: 300

a/n: it’s my first time posting on here in years, but i had to contribute to the small amount of insomniac spiderman fics (i need more). this will probably be a 2-3 part series, please be patient! I’ll post the first part soon but here is a small teaser! reblogs/likes/comments are appreciated! can be imagined as any peter but im writing with video game peter in mind so minor spoiler warning if you haven’t played any of the games? some spelling mistakes

Out of eight million people who lived in New York, of course, only this would happen to her.

Being held hostage in a crappy store with two other people, that is.

All she had wanted to do was get a bag of cat litter, due to running out the night before but here she is, sitting down in a mystery liquid she’d rather not be in, and with the cow villain(she cannot get over the cow ears he was wearing) pacing back and forth in front of her.

“Uhm, if you let me go, I swear I won't tell anyone. Pinky promise!” she had held a pinky up from her now-freed hands. It had been easier to untie herself due to the crappy knot they did.

“Didn't I tie your ha—never mind! No, he's on his way already and then I’ll extricate revenge!” The cow villain exclaims.

Who was on their way? Was it one of the Avengers, or Fantastic Four? Or was it Spider-Man?

In all honesty, she was getting kind of excited, of all of the heroes in New York, she had never encountered him.

She had lived in Harlem for the past three years and had only seen him swing by her window.

“Revenge for what exactly? Also, what is your name? I just keep calling you cow villain in my mind.”

“No one has ever asked for my name,” the villain seemed to tear up a bit before continuing,” it’s Cow-Median.”

She tried to choke back her laugh.

“Sorry.” She cleared her throat.

“No worries, you’re fine!” Cow-Median smiles and then becomes serious.

“And for revenge,” Cow-Median paused for a dramatic effect, “well, it’s because he’s obviously a meat eater!”

…

What?

That’s when the red and blue hero burst into the store where she was being held hostage.

[roadk1lled]

ur telling me there’s no Peter Parker x goth reader…like not even an alternative reader?….that dude is prime pickings for us

[melissa-kenobi]

Nerds

[PS5 Peter Parker x Reader/PS5 Harry Osborn x Reader]

A/N: just a lil blurb, super cute 🥺. FYI, Peter, Harry and Reader are in a relationship. MJ is best friends with them all. Also I'm not a science nerd, idk shit about science so this may be scientifically incorrect lol

Summary: You try to figure out the missing element.

***

"So if I multiply the radius by- " The sound of your voice echoes through the labs at the Foundation, as you experiment with the different formulas.

"Why is it still yellow?" You mutter slightly annoyed and to no-one in particular, throwing away your attempt.

"No, maybe I should try etat- no, or maybe tri- " There was a pattern to it but you couldn't see it at all, maybe you had missed something. You continued talking to yourself, jotting away your idea. Then you went back to the computer and typed away at it before putting in another trial run.

You were so into your little experiment, you hadn't realised Peter had walked in, eyes curious as he placed a hand on your lower back, "Hey, why don't you try the- "

"Ah- you scared me, Pete! But yes, that's a good idea. Maybe it'll balance the acidity of it out." You jump at his touch but suddenly jump back into scientist mode as he gives you a brilliant suggestion. "You're a genius, Pete!"

"Wait!" Peter says, but it's too late. The compounds reject and cause a small reaction. A small cloud of black fluff poofed into your face, making you blink as stared at Pete, who was trying not to laugh at you.

"Okay, maybe not." You freeze before jotting down some notes on your failed attempt. There was a little bit of smoke on your face, which Peter came over and rubbed off before kissing your cheek. "You're too cute."

"No time for cuteness, Mr Parker, onto Trial No.2." You wink at him.

***

Harry had been watching your little nerdy moment with heart eyes, and mushy feeling in his chest, and when Peter had turned up, he wasn't sure he could be even more in love with the both of you than he already was. Harry felt his heart burst with adoration, and he couldn't help but let out a little chuckle when Peter accidentally bumped into you but apologised with a little kiss on your lips.

"Hey, what you doing up here all alone?" MJ walked up as she hip bumped Harry. He let out a little laugh and gave her a hug before turning her around to see the two of you.

"Ah. Creeping on your girlfriend and boyfriend I see..." MJ teases him.

He rolls his eyes good-naturedly, "Don't they look so cute, being all nerdy and shit? I mean, look at y/n. She was so focused that she didn't even notice Peter come in.."

MJ guffaws loudly, cutting Harry off, "You are so whipped for them!"

Harry shoves her lightly, then gives her the middle finger- making MJ laugh even louder, but he continues to watch you and Pete happily.

***

Harry finally walked over to the two of you, cuddling you from being as he placed a kiss on Peter's cheek, making Peter blush deep red. You glanced at Peter, ready to tease him, but Harry placed a kiss on your lips, making you blush too.

Peter looked at you with a grin, before a look of realisation passed over him as he looked at your face, making it click for you too.

Red. It was a deep red.

"Rubidium!" The two of you chimed in response, all of it clicking together. You both pull away from Harry as he looks at you two dumbfounded.

"Of course!" You say as you looked at Peter, who made a 'doh' face and gestured that you two were idiots for not realising it sooner. You ran quickly to grab some and added it to the container. The rubidium instantly neutralised the colour of it, making both you and Peter 'woah' in sync. "It actually worked!"

"Harry Osborn, you are a genius!" Peter grinned.

"We needed our third element, didn't we Pete?" You giggled as Harry pulled the two of you into a hug, the three of you all cuddling.

"I love you, my two nerds..." Harry laughs, his smile warm and content.

***

[hanasnx]

About Peter in "closure"... He is soooo pathetic. I love him.

Do you think he's the kind of guy who suggests dating after dirty sex, even though you've already rejected him many times? I get the vibe that every time you call him he thinks something 'changed' in your feelings

— source.

MINORS DNI 18+ NOTES: anon this shit got me biting my lip.

"I'd be a lot more accessible if we were, you know, dating." PETER PARKER's suggestion catches you off guard, exchanging a glance with him while he adjusts the hemlines of his suit. After your brief love-making you'd think he couldn't wait to get back out there, save the neighborhood or whatever. Your reticence is alarming, and he has to fill the silence, "It can be about more than just the sex."

You scoff. "Thought we've been over this, Spidey," You fix up the disheveled state of your room after he threw you around. "Besides, I doubt I can share you with the entire city of Manhattan." you joke, more to yourself than to him.

"Is that what stops you?"

You face him, and see he's approached the window, a steady hand bracing on the wall. "C'mon." you reason, slacking in place with books in your hand that were knocked from your nightstand. "Don't be like that."

"Be like what?" he asks indignantly, and you recognize his tense stance, the crease in his mask, his feigned ignorant tone.

You tilt your head at him with an exasperated sigh. "If you're gonna do this every time I call you, then maybe you can't handle it."

"Yeah, maybe I can't."

He's baiting you, playing a martyr to dramatize it and get you to see what you're about to lose. It's familiar. "Alright. Maybe don't come over next time I call."

"Maybe don't call."

Your jaw rolls, a thrill setting in your stomach. There's something hopelessly alluring about him when he gets like this. Pathetic and wanting, throwing a tantrum— in his own little way— to get you to understand his side of things. You idle. Throw your books onto the bed with a bounce. Leisurely, you saunter towards him, gaze set on his feet. You hum pensively to yourself, "'Don't call.'" you muse, parroting his words as if you're mulling them over, generously scanning his suit-clad form. You come to a stop in front of him, and he's made no move to exit. "Not even when I... need you?"

He considers it, and firmly responds, "Well, if it's an emergency..." he trails off, clearly referring to life-or-death situations, as Spider-Man is often confronted with.

"Oh, it's always an emergency." you correct him, your voice lowering to a sultry level as you fidget with the texture of his uniform.

"Not-" He pivots his head at the innuendo, narrowing his eyes. "Not that kind of emergency."

You close in. "Not even when I can't get myself off? When my fingers aren't enough? C'mon, Spidey, s'not fair. You know I have small fingers." you plead, heightening your pitch to convey a desperation as you clamber for his attention. Pressing yourself to him, draping over him. You can feel his resolve melting. "Thought you were all about helping a girl in need."

[lynnlovesspidahman]

happy birthday.

peter parker x reader

masterlist.

warnings : none :))

word count : 1.2k

summary : peter’s not easy to shop for, so you settle for a gift money cant buy. happy birthday peter parker 😏

again, i just love ps4 peter so he was in mind while writing this. but you can imagine any of them!!

Peter’s birthday was in 3 days.

You’ve been dating for a little over 5 months, now. You wanted him to feel special for his birthday, considering everything he’s done for you over the course of your relationship.

But he’s such a hard person to shop for. You’ve been wandering around Target for what feels like ages now.

At first, new cologne seemed like a good idea. But, you already prefer the one he already uses (and you have no clue which one that is, you can’t exactly just ask him now).

The next best was new clothes. And they did have nice pairs of the flannel shirts he always seems to wear (He looked delicious every time, you couldn’t argue with that). You looked through the hangers, picked out the best looking ones, and threw them into your cart.

So now you have is a few shirts, cool. But still not enough. So you ran through a couple of gifts you thought he would appreciate. Scratch that, he has to love it, not just appreciate it.

Flowers? No, he can’t take care of them properly.

Skin care? No, he’s told you before he can’t be bothered, he literally uses just water. And yet his skin remains clear.

Shower stuff? Might give the wrong message.

Candy? Too basic.

New furniture for his ever so bland apartment? Too much money.

Gift card to his favorite restaurant? That could work, but it probably would end up being used immediately. By you.

Nothing seemed to work for him. You paid for the three shirts you picked out and left.

You were walking down the street, still trying to think of something to get him.

Your phone rang in your pocket. You put the plastic bag in your left hand as you reached for your phone with your right.

You smiled, admiring Peter’s contact photo as it lit up your screen, he was calling you. The photo was from a date 2 months ago.

He took you on a walk through Central Park, which was beautiful during the summertime.

The trees were beautifully green, and the weather was perfectly warm. He wore a black cap that day, which he rarely did.

As you two sat on a bench together, his arm sat behind you on the back of the bench. You couldn’t stop looking over at him as he spoke to you. Needless to say, he was very easy on the eyes that day. You took your phone out to take a photo. You raised it to your side to capture you both, and as soon as he realized you were taking a photo, he gave a thumbs-up and gave a little smirk smile to the camera. That picture has been your favorite of you two since then.

In that moment, you realized you were so in love with him. But you didn’t tell him. It still felt too early. And you weren’t exactly confident in the I-love-you-return. So you kept it to yourself, to this day.

Before it could go to voicemail from you accidentally staring at his contact photo, you answered his call.

“Hi!”

“Hi, Peter,” You pressed your lips together to stop yourself from smiling too much.

“Whatcha up to?”

“Nothing, just finished shopping at Target, I was bored.”

“Oh, okay. Are you busy?”

You checked the time, 2:43 PM.

“No, why?”

“I was just wondering if you wanted to hang out at my place, for a bit.”

“Duh. I just gotta head back home and do get my stuff.”

“Okay! Just tell me when you’re on your way.”

“I will, See ya later, L-“ It was a habit for you to say that when ending a call and you almost did to Peter. Good catch, Y/N.

“See ya.”

You hung up the call, letting out the breath you were holding during the last second of the call. You almost fucked up, bad.

But would it have been so bad?

Peter’s birthday is today. Still, all you’ve gotten him is those three shirts.

You feel so shitty. So you quickly came up with a plan.

You would take him out to brunch, walk in central park, and sit on that same bench, and maybe maybe maybe tell him you love him?

Which is a horrible fucking birthday present especially if he doesn’t feel the same way and has to let you down easily. But, you want to let him know he’s important to you and no gift was able to speak that for you.

What’s there to lose to just say it to him?

Everything. You could lose everything you’ve built with him. Don’t say it, Y/N.

“Hey, Peter?” You turned your body to face him, you two were sitting in the exact bench.

“Hm?” He looked over at you, his eyebrows raised.

He was wearing the new blue flannel you bought him. You washed it for him the other day and gave it to him during brunch. Immediately he had put one on (your favorite that you picked out) and has been wearing it all day.

“I wanna tell you something,” No going back, do it. You have to.

“Okay.. What’s up?” His whole body was now facing you. All of his attention on you.

“I just- we’ve been together for five months now. Which is a long time with somebody, at least to me. And you’ve become such an important person in my life and being around you has become so routine that I can’t imagine any of my free time being spent without you.”

He slowly nodded, looking confused.

“I should’ve told you this months ago, but I didn’t. I was too nervous to tell you before, and it’s really not a good time to tell you — especially on your birthday — but I can’t keep it a secret anymore-”

“Are you breaking up with me?”

“What?! Peter, no. Quite the opposite actually,” You joked, he didn’t know what you meant though.

“Oh, phew. I got really scared. You got all serious and then you started saying it wasn’t a good thing to tell me on my birthday-”

“I love you.” You blurted, interrupting his rambling.

He just stared at you, mouth still agape from him talking.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-” You started to gather your things and about to stand up and leave.

“Wait. Do you? Like actually?” He gripped your wrist, stopping you.

“Yeah,” You turned your head away from him, feeling a blush creep on your face. This was embarrassing.

“I- I love you, too.” He stood up, and positioned his thumb under your jaw to turn your head towards him.

“Wha-”

“I love you.” He repeated himself, this time he was looking into your eyes.

You both leaned in, simultaneously.

“I said it first, but I love you too.” You pulled him by his collar and pressed your lips onto his.

After a moment, you felt him smile against your lips.

“What?” You asked, giggling as you opened your eyes to look at him.

“You love me,” He teased, tickling your sides.

“Don’t get cheesy.”

“No promises,” He laughed, leaning into another kiss.

“Happy birthday, Pete.”

hehehe. okay fr tho it is actually peter parker’s birthday today and i needed to make something. this was lowkey half-assed but i kinda like it so i’m just gonna post it 🥲🥲

likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated!! 💓

[criminalamnesia]

The One I’d Come Looking For

warnings: mentions of blood and death, mentions of past trauma, no use of y/n, reader has an unnamed sister, reader has powers and goes by “phantom”, not proofread

summary: you and peter had fallen out months ago because of your different lifestyles. now, he’s back in your life and trying to save you from Kraven’s hunters.

author’s note: I’m down bad for insomniac!peter. anyways I wrote this quickly and in a blur. it’s also my first step back into writing for fun in a while so I’m sorry if it’s awful and messy! I definitely started this with a different ending in mind but what’s done is done.

—

You thought you’d put your life as a criminal behind you. You’d been doing good for yourself without the help of your powers. You’d gotten out— but Kraven pulled you right back in.

You were on the run now, constantly looking over your shoulder as you attempted to find a way out of New York. It’s times like these you’d wish those experiments had given you the power of flight— maybe even invisibility. Anything to get you out quickly and unscathed.

Your phone rings for the third time in ten minutes. You don’t need to check the caller ID to see who’s calling. You know it’s one of the spiders— probably Miles, as you and Peter had a complicated history.

You ignore the ringing in favor of focusing on pushing the needle into the skin of your thigh to sew up the gash there. Kraven’s hunters were no joke. You’d faced worse, but they’d caught you by surprise. One minute you’re sleeping peacefully, the next your eyes are flying open to the sound of footsteps on the stairs.

You’d taken out most of them as you escaped, but one had taken a sword to your thigh. You were lucky— those blades were sharp enough to cut through bone. The one that hit you had skimmed you, but it had still cut deep enough to need stitches.

You bit your bottom lip as you worked on stitching yourself up. Your first aid skills were a little rusty, but it was almost like riding a bike. You never forget how to patch yourself up after a fight, right?

The phone rang again and you scowled. You should’ve left the damn thing behind, but maybe your subconscious made you take it in hopes that he’d call.

You and Peter hadn’t spoken in months, not since you stepped back from a life of villainy. In hindsight, it’s ironic. Peter hated your lifestyle when you were together— it’s one of the reasons things ended. You’d think he’d be interested once you were on the straight-and-narrow, but he was radio silent.

You could understand. You had done a number on him— and he on you.

Again, the phone rings. You pull the needle through your skin a final time, tying the thread and reaching for the bandages beside you. A knock on the door startles you out of your thoughts.

The bandages are forgotten as you raise your hands. Green light swirls around your fingertips. You’re ready to send a barrage of green spikes through the air when whoever is knocking speaks.

“Phantom, I know you’re in there.”

Peter.

“It’s open,” You sigh, dropping your hands and turning your attention back to the bandages.

The door slowly creeps open a crack to reveal an unfamiliar suit. The red and blue you once knew are gone, replaced by an eery black that unsettles you. You raise your eyebrows as he enters the room and pushes the door shut behind him.

“New suit?” You ask, looking back down at your leg as you start wrapping the bandage. You grit your teeth as you pull the fabric tight around your thigh. You couldn’t afford to start bleeding again.

“Why don’t you answer your phone?” He counters, his voice lower than you remember. It almost didn’t sound like him.

“Kinda busy here, Pete. Fuckin’ hunters know what they’re doing. I’m sure they’ve got my trail again, it’s only a matter of time before they come busting in here. I’ve gotta patch myself up and get going— excuse me if I don’t have time for chatting,” you huff, not bothering to look at him as he approaches you.

“I saw them on my way over,” he says. “Said hi.”

“Did you?” You said, ripping the last of the bandages and patting your thigh. You’d have to stay ahead of them now. You’d lose a foot race, but you may win with some distance. “How kind.”

“I was trying to buy you some time.”

“I don’t need your help, Peter,” you spoke, pushing yourself off of the floor while minding your hurt leg. “I’ve been doing fine on my own.”

“You should be grateful,” he said. There was an angry edge to his voice, and it was unnerving. You’d never heard him speak in such a tone, especially towards you. No matter how mad you made him when the two of you were together, he never reached that point.

“Should I?” You questioned, getting a good look at him now. He still had the white spider you recognized, but the rest of the suit was a slimy looking black. “I don’t owe you shit, Spider-Man,” you threw the title in his face, watching as the off-white slits of his eyes narrowed. “I didn’t ask for your help. I can handle myself— I have been handling myself for months, and last I checked, you wanted nothing to do with me. So, why are you standing here now?”

He exhaled sharply. The two of you stared at each other for a moment before you gave a small laugh and shook your head. “This angsty, brooding act isn’t cute, Pete. Tell me what you want or get lost.”

“I’m trying to save you,” he spat as his face started to come into view. Black tendrils of the suit slinked away until his mask was completely gone. There was a look in his eyes you didn’t recognize.

“Save me from what, the hunters? Little too late for that, incase you haven’t noticed,” you gestured a hand to your thigh.

“Kraven,” he spoke, his voice rough. “He’s killing villains. He’ll kill you.”

“I’m not scared of Kraven or his hunters,” you said, reaching down to swipe your bag off of the floor. You shrugged one of the straps over your shoulder and looked back at Peter. “And you should know I don’t need saving.”

“Can you not be so stubborn for once?” Annoyance was clear in his tone as one of his hands reached out to wrap lightly around your wrist.

“Since when do you care about my well-being?” You countered, pulling your wrist from his grasp and stepping around him. “We didn’t end on good terms. We haven’t spoken in months. I don’t think you could hate anyone, that’s not who you are—” you gave a small laugh as you shook your head, “but I’m pretty sure you got close to hating me.”

“I never hated you,” he told you, and his voice almost sounded normal again, but you were already walking towards the door. Your hand grasped the handle, pulling it open, but making no move to step out.

You ignored him. Although you would never tell him, those words meant a lot to you. You had loved Peter— for fuck’s sake, you were going to marry him. But you got caught up in some bad shit, and he couldn’t forgive you for it. You didn’t expect him to.

The last time you had seen him, you’d limped away. Broken and bleeding, abandoning him on a rooftop, ignoring his pleas for you to do the right thing.

You had never raised a fist to him, nor he to you. In fact, he had saved you from death at the hands of Kingpin that night— and still you’d finished the job you were assigned.

The clarity that came after was crushing. Missing him was crushing, but you were too proud and he was too tired. You know that if you’d gone back to him, he would have eventually forgiven you. Peter was good like that. It was one of the reasons you had loved him.

It was one of the reasons you still loved him.

“Goodbye, Spider-Man.” You spoke softly before stepping into the hall and shutting the door behind you.

You hobbled down the hallway and desperately tried to ignore the pain in your leg. The hunters wouldn’t stop just because you were injured, meaning you couldn’t stop either.

Whatever. You’d been through worse.

As you approached the end of the hall, the irises of your eyes shifted to a light green. It was a subtle tell that you were using your powers. As if the occasional glowing-green structures you created weren’t enough of a tell.

You shifted through the wall, your eyes fading back to their original color as you inhaled deeply. You knew Peter was probably still lurking somewhere close by. He was never one to sit back and let something happen, especially if it involved someone he cared for.

Well, used to care for. You supposed it was just the heroic-ness of him that kept him glued to your shadow. He couldn’t leave in good conscience, not when the hunters were on your tail.

You limped deeper into the alleyway you’d shifted into. It reeked of rotten food and you swore you saw a rat run by, but life on the run was never glamorous. Besides, the darkness of the alley made you feel the tiniest bit safer, even if you knew the hunters had tech that would make the dark surrounding you look like daylight.

Speaking of…

An arrow whizzed by your head, embedding itself into the metal of the overflowing dumpster a few feet ahead. You sighed.

“Can’t you guys take a hint?” You turned and raised your hands, ready to defend yourself, and—

“Run!”

Peter had been following you. He landed between you and the quickly approaching squad of hunters, sparing you a glance over his shoulder before turning to unleash his wrath on Kraven’s lackeys.

“Can’t run even if I wanted to, Spider!” You shouted, shrugging off your bag and tossing it to the side.

What happened next was a blur.

Green light swirled between your raised fingers, materializing into the green spikes you’d almost impaled Peter with ten minutes ago. You sent them flying towards the hunters who weren’t preoccupied with the spider currently ripping them to shreds.

One hunter screamed in pain as one spike met it’s mark, piercing the woman’s abdomen.

Peter may have a no-kill rule, but that didn’t mean you did.

Another grunted as a spike met his shoulder, but he soldiered on with a sword raised.

“Really? Still coming?” You huffed as you formed a sword of your own, the green light it was constructed of illuminating your battlefield.

The man roared a battle cry as he brought his blade down towards you. You parried swiftly, but the man you were fighting was much more experienced with a blade. He swung again, and as you attempted to move out of the way, the blade sliced into your other leg.

“You guys don’t fight fair, huh?” You groaned. Green light dissolved as you lost your focus on your own weapon. Now you were just trying to keep your balance as you dodged the hunter’s strikes by the skin of your teeth.

“Not as strong as we thought,” the hunter spoke as his blade made contact once more, this time cutting into your arm. “Kraven will be disappointed.”

“You caught me on an off day,” you rolled your eyes. “Maybe try again next week?”

“Phantom!”

The shout caught you off guard, and you made a stupid, careless, rookie mistake. You would later blame it on the horrible concoction of events leading to that moment. Peter popping back into your life, the cut on your thigh, and the fatigue you felt after being on the run for days.

Your head turned to follow the voice because you knew it was Peter’s. Old habits die hard, right?

The hunter raised his sword again, and then the world went black.

—

When you woke up, you were in a cage. An honest to god cage. You snorted as you lifted your pounding head from the ground. The hunters took their shtick seriously, you had to give them that.

You blinked your eyes rapidly in an attempt to clear the spots clouding your vision. Probably a concussion. Just another injury to add to the list.

As you slowly pushed your body up into a sitting position, you mentally noted your other injuries. Deep cuts to one arm and both thighs, including the cut you’d stitched— which was now bleeding again. Your right leg also felt broken, which you guessed was something the hunters had done after you’d fallen asleep so you wouldn’t escape.

“Kudos to them for trying,” you mumbled under your breath as you shakily— and very carefully— stood.

You limped to the bars of the cage and grasped onto them for support. As you surveyed your surroundings, you realized you were in a zoo. It almost made you laugh.

“You guys are cute for being so committed to your little hunter thing. Really, it’s adorable,” you spoke as you caught sight of the hunter standing a few feet away.

The woman didn’t acknowledge you. She kept her back towards you as she watched the small fire crackling in front of her.

“Even the spider talks less than you,” a man’s gruff voice startled you. The hunter stepped out of the shadows as he approached the woman by the fire.

“Speaking of the spider,” you called out, “where is he? Do we have adjoining cages, or does he get special treatment?”

The male hunter didn’t bite. He came to a stop beside the woman, leaned down to whisper something into her ear, and then he turned and left.

When the sound of the man’s boots hitting the ground could no longer be heard, the woman turned around. She snarled as she looked at you. One of her hands reached to unsheathe the hunting knife strapped to her hip.

You watched as she began to walk towards you. Your mind raced as you thought of different ways to escape. If she opened your cage, you could use your powers and dispose of her— but how big was this zoo? You had only seen the two hunters, but you weren’t naive enough to believe they were the only ones here.

“Lucky for you,” the woman finally spoke. Her voice was thick with an accent you couldn’t place. “Kraven wants you alive.”

“Yeah,” you said. “Lucky for me.”

The woman raised the knife in one hand and reached the other towards your cage. You struck in an instant.

Green light contrasted the orange of the fire as a spear materialized in your hand. You shoved it forward between the bars of the cage, right into tj woman’s stomach. Before she could attempt a scream, you wrenched the weapon from her gut, raised it in your grasp, and shoved it into her throat.

She dropped to the ground, the only sound escaping her throat a quiet gurgle. You were done playing games— and you didn’t want to prove Peter right. You didn’t need his help. You would get out of here on your own.

You phased through the bars of the cage and raised your hands in anticipation. The only thing you heard was the sound of the fire. It was too quiet.

“Need some help?”

You scowled as you turned your head to look at the man who landed beside you.

“I don’t need you to save me,” you spoke.

“You were locked in a cage,” Peter replied, throwing a thumb over his shoulder towards the cage. “I think you needed a little help.”

“I’m not in the cage anymore, am I? And whose doing is that?” You retorted as Peter’s face slowly revealed itself.

“You just can’t say thank you, huh?” He said, and you rolled your eyes.

“Fuck you, Peter. I told you to stay out of it. I know you feel like you have to intervene, but you don’t, so—”

“Of course I have to intervene,” he cut you off. “I can’t let you die.” His tone was almost angry as he took a step closer to you.

“Are you doing this because it’s me or because of your need to save people?” You said, and he went quiet.

“You feel like you can’t let this go because you have to save everyone. I get it, Peter. But you don’t have to save me.”

“I can’t let you die,” he repeated, his voice soft. His eyes met yours.

Back in that abandoned house, when you’d seen Peter’s face, he hadn’t seemed like himself. But now, as you stared into his eyes, you saw the Peter you knew. The one you loved.

“Peter—” you began, but he shook his head.

“Just let me talk. The way things ended… it shouldn’t have happened like that. I was angry. First May and then— then you. And you went back and finished that job and I just couldn’t— I couldn’t do it. I could barely look at you.”

He paused, and you waited for him to speak again.

“I didn’t understand it at first, why you did it. But now I do. Ganke found out what you did with that money a few weeks after. I wanted to say something— but you were in the wind, and I knew you didn’t want me to come looking. So, I let you go. I had Ganke keep a lookout for any calls that might’ve related to you, but none ever came. You went clean, and I wanted to reach out, but—”

“Peter, whatever end this whole big speech is coming to, I don’t need to hear it.” You interrupted, and he shook his head.

“No, you do. You weren’t a… good guy. Not all the time. I know that. But some of the things you did, and who you worked for, I understand now. Your sister—”

“How do you know about her?” You spoke, eyes wide.

“Please don’t be mad— I had Ganke do some digging after… everything.”

You were shaking now. Peter knew. He knew everything. He knew that you worked for big bosses like Kingpin because you were sending money to your sister.

He knew that you became a criminal because of your anger and your desperate attempts at finding the man who experimented on you. Mob bosses have connections, and you thought you could work out a deal.

He knew that the reason you still finished that job for Kingpin, even if the villain had almost killed you, was because your sister’s life was at stake.

He knew your sister was dead, and that’s why you had tried to disappear.

“We had our problems when we were together,” Peter said after a beat of silence. “And I’m not excusing your past— but you could’ve told me. I could’ve helped you.”

You shook your head. “No, you couldn’t have. He would’ve killed her sooner. Besides, you’re not my therapist, Peter. No one could’ve help me with that anger I felt— that I still feel. I’m still who I was, I’m just trying not to take it out on innocent people anymore. I don’t want to be the reason someone else loses their sister.”

You could hear police sirens in the distance. You gave a small shake of your head as you pushed back the thoughts of your past.

“We should go.”

Peter reached forward, his hand finding solace on your shoulder.

“I can’t forget what you’ve done. I can’t forget the fights and the disagreements between us. But, I also can’t forget the love I have for you. I can’t forget how much I’ve missed you over these past few months. I can’t forget, but I’m willing to forgive.”

Your eyes met his once more. “Peter—”

“I will always come looking for you, over and over again. Even if it takes me a little bit,” he gave a small laugh, and you rolled your eyes.

The sirens were getting closer. You inhaled deeply.

“This doesn’t fix us.” You told him, and he nodded.

“It doesn’t. But maybe one day soon, we can try again.”

A small smile etched its way onto your lips. You gave a small nod as one of your hands came up to rest on his hand.

“Now, let’s get you out of here,” he said as his mask reformed. He moved his hand from your shoulder to you waist and pulled you tightly into his side.

“Still remember how to do this?” He teased, and you laughed.

“I don’t think I’ll ever forget the fear that comes with your horrible steering.”

“Just for that,” he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, “I’m going the long way.”

Peter shot a web and the two of you were pulled into the sky. You held onto him tightly, and even though you knew the two of you had a long way to go, you’d never been more excited to see where the journey would take you.

[thespiderpals]

somebody

Insomniac!Peter Parker x F!Reader

summary - Peter is always saving everyone else, so for once you want to be the one saving him.

warnings - angst, hurt/comfort, Peter struggles to cope with loss, Peter physically struggling after putting Doctor Octavius away

Everybody needs somebody.

Peter often came home bloodied and covered in bruises. It was never surprising to spot him trying to sneak in through a window in the hopes of not letting you see him like that, but it always hurt you. His pain always hurt you, because he acted like it was nothing for the sake of everyone else. He was too selfless, too self-sacrificing, and every time he went out to face another supervillain you always feared that he wouldn't come home. And not because of a lack of faith in him, but because you knew he would go to any lengths to keep the city safe - to keep you safe - even if it meant losing his life.

So when you see the news of The Raft failing to contain it's prisoners, your heart almost stops at the sight of a familiar red-and-blue hero swinging to the rescue. Your heart sinks to the lowest part of your stomach as you watch the chaos unfold, and witness him being overwhelmed by all the big ones he put away.

And you can't help but cry when he crawls through your window hours later, banged up but okay because Yuri had found him and taken him to the hospital. You can't help but run to him and almost crush his bones again in a hug. You can't help but wet his neck with your tears as you mumble incoherently and tell him how much he scared you - how worried you'd been that you lost him.

And he holds you like he does every time, his arms secure around your waist as he presses several loving kisses to the top of your head. He rubs your back soothingly and tells you he's okay, he's here, and he's not going anywhere. He keeps you against his chest for what feels like forever, but neither of you complain. You're both just glad to be in each other's arms.

"You're so stupid," you tell him with glassy eyes when you finally look up at his tired face.

"I am?" He chuckles, "Why's that?"

"Making me worry so much..." Your hand finds its way to his cheek, and your heart flips as he leans into your touch, contentment on his face at your small but affectionate gesture.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, and you hear the sincerity in his voice.

"I know."

You know he won't stop until he's put every convict back in The Raft. You know he won't stop until he's put an end to Doctor Octavius's plans. So you do the only thing you can, you support him however you're able to. Whatever he needs you to do, you do it. If he needs you at home for the sake of his peace of mind, that's where you go. If he needs you helping out at the F.E.A.S.T center, you're happy to see May again. And you're happy to help the new kid, Miles, adjust.

But when all is said and done, and his heroics give way to tragedy, you're the only one who can stop him from spiralling. When he collapses over May, sobbing uncontrollably, you stand beside him with just as much pain in your heart at the loss of the most important person in both your lives. He blames himself, you already know, and the way he almost crushes your smaller frame in his despair makes your chest ache.

It was never fair to him.

He should never have had to choose.

He's been through enough. Not just in the last eight years, but just the last few days. Losing his mentor, having to fight him, then retrieving the cure only to find out he can't save May AND the city...

Many would be surprised that he's not broken yet.

But they don't see it.

You moved him into your apartment mere hours after he'd been evicted from his. So now that you were living together, you saw everything. The nightmares, the breakdowns, the episodes...you saw all of it.

"May!"

You jerked awake to the sound of Peter's scream, turning quickly to see the man sweating, shaking and in tears. You're quick to move closer to him, wrap your arms around him, and pull him to your chest. You're quick to murmur words of comfort in his ear, into his hair, wherever you can for him to hear.

They don't see him cling to you like you're his lifeline, like you're the only thing keeping him tethered to this world. They don't see how he soaks your shirt with his tears, how his body wracks with sobs as he's bruising your skin with his tight grip. You don't ever mind or care, his strength is the last thing on his mind in those moments and you would rather suffer through the pain than admit he's hurting you. Because he needs you, he needs to hold you, and you don't want to take that away from him.

"I'm here, baby," you reassure him, "It's okay. You're okay." And as you comb your fingers through his hair that you love so much, you mumble the very words he needs to hear. "I love you."

They don't see his hands shaking every time he tries to do menial tasks around the apartment - the way your expression softens and you move over to help him.

"There you go baby," you gently ease the omelettes onto the plates, setting them down on the table for breakfast. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he says shakily, trying to smile at you but you can see the way his lips tremble. "Thanks."

They don't see the way he struggles to deal with inheriting May's house, the way his eyes gloss over as a thousand memories slam into him with the force of a tidal wave. You're sitting on his old bed with him, his hand in yours and your lips pressing reassuring kisses to his shoulder.

"I don't think I could have done this alone," he admits quietly, before looking at you. "Thanks for being here."

"Always," you smile back, squeezing his hand.

He returns the smile, but it fades as he looks around again, "I don't think I can stay here alone either." He looks at you, and runs his thumb across the back of your hand. "Move in with me."

"We were already living together silly," you laugh, resting your head on his shoulder.

"I know," he smiles, "You can bring all your stuff here. Bye bye rent."

You laugh at that and turn to him, "I'll do just that." And then you kiss him, smiling wider when he mumbles 'I love you' against your lips. "I love you too."

No one sees that you're the only reason he's not broken. The only reason he hasn't gone insane. You're always there for him, always there to catch him. He saves the city, and you save him.

Everybody needs somebody, and he's eternally grateful to have you.

He proposes with May's ring, which was willed to him. You're overwhelmed with emotion by the gesture, your heart swelling at the fact that he wanted you to have her ring. And of course you say yes, you've been ready to marry him since before any of this started.

Slowly he starts to heal, and he puts the horrors of the Devil's Breath incident behind him. He chooses to move on, knowing his future looks good with you in it.

"And what would you like for dinner, Mrs Parker?" He teases you every night since you made it official, knowing just how much it flusters you. But that's only a cover, he really likes saying it.

"Hmmm, maybe your world-famous dumplings," you tease back, laughing as you sit at the small table in the kitchen.

"As you wish, my lady."

Slowly, the old Peter Parker comes back to life. He makes more jokes, he sleeps like a log, he's generally more lively and energetic. And you love to see it.

And then Harry Osborn returns.

"You have to meet my wife."

"You're married?! Was I gone for that long?"

When Peter introduces Harry to you, you can see how happy he is and the way his eyes light up is something you haven't seen in a long time. It warms you to see that things are getting better for your hero.

Unfortunately, that peaceful happiness is short-lived.

[int-writersmind]

Potential Customer

Summary: You work at a record store, bored out of your mind, until Peter Parker walks in and catches your eye. Peter Parker x Reader 

*also I wrote this with the Ps4/5 Peter Parker in mind, but honestly it's generic enough to be any Peter.

Genre: Fluff; Flirting

Word Count: 2k+

When you decided to take a job at So-So Records, you thought it would be like that movie Empire Records where every day would be an exciting romp, well hopefully not a potential job-losing-filled-romp. Unfortunately for you it was much more boring.

Your days were mostly filled with dealing with tourists who were kind-hearted but utterly clueless or pretentious audiophiles who would give you their opinions without even asking you. However, for all your big talk you weren’t that knowledgeable when it came to music, you just liked what your liked and were opened to suggestions (from unpretentious, kind customers of course.)

It was a weekday, you couldn’t remember which, since they all seem to blend together when working back-to-back shifts. You were alone, the shop had a few customers idling around. 

You were at the front counter, elbow resting on the check-out counter, head resting on one hand, the other lazily flipping through a catalog. When the front bell rings, your eyes barely flicker upwards. It isn’t until that potential customer who walked through the front door is standing right in front of you do you finally look up.

“Um, hello?” says the Potential Customer.

“Welcome to So-So Records,” you decide to stand up straight and give your full attention to this Potential Customer. Clueless Tourist or Pretentious Audiophile? “Can I help you with anything?”

“Uh, yeah, um,” The Potential Customer, a mid-twenties guy with chocolate brown hair and amber eyes that complemented, reached into his satchel and pulled out a notebook, flipping through the pages. “I’m actually looking for this album? I’ve been to a few other places and had no luck, they all say So-So would be my best chance.”

The Potential Customer, with his slouchy shoulders and tendency to fidget quite often, placed a hand on the back of his neck, rubbing up and down. Your eyes dart from the hand on the back of his neck to the hand that gives you the notebook. Your gaze lingers a little too long on his long, slender fingers. Strange, you know, but sometimes the most attractive parts of a human were really strange. 

You refocus, eyes skimming the paper, on it was a title and artist, your brain flickers with the passing glance of the cover. “Uh, yeah, I…think we have this, follow me.”

You move from behind the desk, taking the notebook in hand, glancing at the words once more. You lead– 

“I’m Peter by the way, I know you didn’t ask, but still…” You glance back, gesturing to your name tag, as you lead Peter down the aisles of various genres of music. “I actually never been to a record store before, didn’t even know they still existed.”

“I was like that too for a while,” You stop at a section where the older music was located, placing the notebook on one section of records. “Gotta thank the hipsters for making it popular again, even though they are some of the most annoying customers.”

“The only memory of records I have is when my Aunt and Uncle used to play some every so often on the weekends.”

You start to flip through the albums, scanning for the right one, “Do they still find time to play some?” 

Peter sighs and leans against a row of records, looking elsewhere, “No, no, my Uncle, actually…passed some time ago...”

You stop for a moment, fingers pausing, you look in his direction. As if he could feel your eyes on him, he looks up at you. His face, neutral with maybe a hint of sadness. Like he was used to saying that a loved one who must have been important in his life was gone, but also still hurt when thinking about him. 

“Apologies.” You say, not completely happy with the response. How many times had he heard that?

“Don’t be,” Peter crosses his arms, smirks a boyish grin that makes him even more appealing. “It made me think of a nice memory that I forgot about, more memories about Uncle Ben will never not be nice.”

You smile as you return back to searching for the record, “Oh, look I found it! That’s surprising.”

Peter moves closer, hovering over your right shoulder to get a better look, You sharply suck in breath, turning your head to look at him. Peter glances at you, and smiles, “That’s great, kind of a shame though.”

“Why?”

“'Cause it means I have to leave now,” You hand him the record and the notebook, to which Peter plucks it from your hand, looking over the front and the back, while moving away from you. You exhale deeply as you follow behind him.

“Who says you have to go? Unless you have somewhere to go?” You finally say.

“I think I can spare some time,” Peter looks down at his pretend watch on his bare wrist, “Are you gonna introduce me to some music that will change my life?”

“Please,” You laugh as the two of you lazily walk down the aisle, “I’m hardly the last person to do so.”

“Don’t you-” 

“Work at a record store? I know, I know, but I like what I like. Sue me if it’s Top 100.”

The two of you stop at the end of the aisle, you standing at one end of a row of records, Peter moving over and doing the same.

“I guess it’s better than getting made fun of for having an old man's taste.”

“Really? You get hate for having a love for the oldies? That’s some bullshit, especially in a place like New York.”

“Well, when you're a nerdy kid with thick glasses and a love of science, it’s not so cool” Peter flicks through the stack, pulling up an album by a band that was huge in the 70s. 

“Hmm, if you like that group,” You flick through some albums on your side, skimming until you land on the second record by a female-led group from around the same time. “How about this?” You model the record, posing with it, flipping it from front to back. “And…it’s on sale.” You move over to the same aisle as Peter, standing close to him like he did to you earlier. 

Peter takes the record from your hand, “I think younger, nerdier me would have loved this.”

“Younger, nerdier, you sounds like he was such a cutie.” You response. 

“Was?”

You shyly smile back, moving away with your hands behind your back. ”

This was grossly unprofessional, what were your intentions with this potential customer? Making a sale or making a move. You push that thought out of your head, if you were making him uncomfortable or pushing it too far, then he wouldn’t be smirking at you like that. That smile that causes a slight flurry of butterflies in your stomach. 

The two of you continue your walk back to the front, the long way of course. Bobbing and weaving through different aisles, many short, some long. Passing through pop–contemporary and classic, and some RnB, ending up at one end of the store, in the rock section. “What were you like in high school?” Peter asks.

“Quiet, mostly,” You lean against the wall and Peter does the same next to you. “Not too popular but I had friends, spent a lot of time with my art and music teachers, focused on doing little stuff like that instead of more fun extracurricular activities.”

“Huh, yeah I get it, I found some time to do some little stuff to distract myself in high school too. Nothing…too exciting.” 

You inch closer to Peter and so does he, to the point where the two of you bump shoulders. “Oh sorry…”

“Don’t be,” Peter says.

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. The two of you just stare at one another, the hum of whatever record you put on earlier lightly plays in the air. The dry smell of the older, original pressings of albums of the past, filling up the room. 

You dart your eyes downward, quickly, towards his lips, before looking away. God, now this was unprofessional. “Shit, sorry.” You move off the wall, but Peter’s hand on your wrist causes you to turn. His touch wasn’t aggressive, or rough, but gentle and light. Like a feather was tickling the underside of your hand instead of his long, slender fingers. 

Ding-Ding!

Both of your heads turn towards the door, a middle aged couple walk in, wonder in their eyes, cameras slung over their head. Clueless Tourists. You and Peter look at one another, before resigning to the situation and finally making it to the front. You, behind the counter, Peter in front, the two records under his arm.

“Hello, welcome to So-So Records, I’ll be here if you need me.” You say to the newest potential customers, as they give you that polite nod, and split off into the rest of the store. Peter places the records on the table, when all of sudden his phone goes off, he opens it and stares intently at the screen. “Something wrong?”

“No, ah yes, no,” Peter says, his head whipping from his phone to you multiple times. “I-God, I hate to do this but I can’ take these right now–”

“You can always come back.” You take the records from the counter, holding them in your hand.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I close tonight, you can come back later and get them.” You place the records behind you, before looking back nervously. “I mean only if you want, obviously, duh.”

“Duh.” Peter dryly chuckles, glancing once more at his phone. “I really have to leave, but I’ll be back, I promise. It’s a date. I mean, no, not a date, but–”

“I gotcha.” You wink and smile at Peter as he nervously backs up, sneaking in a last look before leaving through the door, with a ding-ding.

God, you can not believe what just happened! Are you some teenage girl whose knees go weak when a semi-attractive guy shoots you a smile? Who’s touch makes your face heat up, even if it’s just shoulders touching, or gentle, kind, fingertips on your wrist?

For the rest of your shift, you did more of the same that you did every day at your job. Helping customers, listening to unsolicited music advice, and a lot of needless flipping through the store’s catalog.

As the day wined down, the sun dipping into the horizon, you made peace with the fact that Peter wasn’t coming back. Whatever, this  is reality not some rom-com where fate will bring the two leads back together at the end.

You also decided to buy your recommendation to Peter as well, you had plenty of copies of it in the store, so if he decides to come back after all, he could get his own copy. 

You pull down the store’s  front gate, squatting down to lock the padlock, pulling it to make sure it was secure, the record under your arm.

“Making away with customers orders I see.”

You turn to face the familiar voice, Peter slightly out of breath, but still as charming as he was this morning. “Potential customer.” You say, standing up, smiling ever just subtly.

“Sorry I’m late,” Peter glances at the closed store, with its darkened lights and gated entrance. “Like really late.”

“Hmm, that’s ok,” You turn to walk down the sidewalk, your head peering over your shoulder, “Walk with me?” 

As you walk down the sidewalk, record held in your arms across your chest, Peter falls in rhythm with you, so close that his hand occasionally grazes your leg. Jokingly you say, “I thought you forgot all about me, wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Oh god no,” Pete dryly chuckles. “The only thing I could think about was you, I-I mean coming back here to pick up the records and uh, and also to see you, I guess.”

“Ah, you guess huh?” 

The two of you wait at a crosswalk, before deciding to jaywalk as there were no cars in sight, you make a turn once you get to the other side, on the block that you lived on.

“I was actually coming to tell you that I no longer need that record actually, the one I came in for. It was for a, uh, a project that quickly evolved to…something else.”

“Ok, I see,” Your head turns to Peter and he does the same, your eyes lock on to one another, his face filled with nerves. “You were gonna come all the way back here to not buy something. That’s a first, I would have preferred ghosting.”

Peter laughs again, shaking his head, “No, no, I was still gonna get the record that you suggested to me. Sounds more up my alley anyway.” You stop in front of your apartment building, with Peter placing his hand on your arm to move out of another couples way. The two of you stand in front of the building's metal gates. “But it seems I have to come back during business hours to do so.”

“Or not.”

Peter raises his eyebrows in confusion, as you reach in your jacket’s pocket for a notebook you always kept. You write down something on the paper, using the pen you stuck in the notebook holder, tearing off the page. You place the paper on top of the record and push it towards him.

“No I can't-”

“I’m not giving it to you.” You say, “I’m lending it to you. Listen to it, listen to it again and then…call me, or text me and let me know how it is.” Peter takes the record and piece of paper from your hands, his fingers brushing yours. “And don’t ghost me, it would be a shame if I never get to see-talk to you again.”

“Yeah…it would be…”

“Goodnight Peter.”

Peter says your name, it makes your heart flutter just for a moment when he does so, ‘“Goodnight.” But the two of you don’t leave, you two just stare at each for a little longer.

Your phone rings and you’re forced to look at it.

“My roommate, she gets antsy if I don’t come home exactly when I say I will.”

“I understand.”

You nod and turn to walk into the building. Before you go through the doors, you glance back to see Peter staring at the piece of paper before looking up at you, that same smirk on his face. 

God, you are so unprofessional.

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Read Part 2 -> Hanging on the Telephone!

Oh my goodness this is my first fic on Tumblr! Please be kind and comment if you like, like if you prefer, reblog if you're like that, I won't judge. Always open for suggestions and to ~virtually~ meet others! I'm so new to this and I know I'm currently talking into the void but, whatever...Bye, thanks if you made it this far!!!

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