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waitimcomingtoo · 15 days

Text

Uranus

Pairing: Peter Parker x Avengers!Reader

Synopsis: you fix Peters science project while he’s out on a date with another girl

Masterlist

You walked by Peter’s room and paused in the doorway. The empty bedroom reminded you of where he was tonight and it send a sick feeling down to your stomach. The scent of his cologne lingered in the air as you looked at all the discarded outfits he had left on his bed.

“I’m not cleaning his stupid room.” You decided and walked away. You were barely halfway down the hallway when you turned and sprinted back to his room to start to put things away. You knew it wasn’t your job to take care of him but you simply couldn’t stop yourself from tidying up. You assumed he’d be getting back late from where he was and probably wouldn’t want to clean up all his clothes just to get into his bed. As you folded a pair of his jeans, you looked up into his vanity mirror and sighed.

“You’re so pathetic.” You told yourself through a groan.

“Stop talking to yourself.” Your reflection replied and pointed at you with a scathing finger. You jumped and looked down to see your finger was pointed as well.

“Right.” You mumbled and left his room.

You then went into the living room and saw Peter’s science project sitting on the couch. He had been building a model of the solar system for weeks now for his astronomy class with a little help from you here and there. All you did was hold pieces together after he glued them but he still insisted that he could not have done it without you. You smiled at the memory of the two of you working on it together and picked it up.

“Why would he leave it where someone could sit on it?” You sighed and moved it to the bar counter in the kitchen. You left the living room to use the bathroom just as Thor was entering the room. He stepped onto a bar stool with ease and took a seat on the counter to eat the apple he had taken from a lunchbox labeled “Sam’s: do not touch”. He munched his apple for a moment before feeling something digging into his back. He sat up a little and pulled a small ball out from under him that was painted to look like Mercury.

“Hm. Thats strange. I don’t remember putting that up there.” Thor frowned as he rolled the planet between his fingers. You walked back into the living room and smiled at Thor until you saw what he was holding. Your heart stopped at the same time your feet did and you let out a dramatic gasp that sent you into a coughing fit.

“Thor!” You exclaimed. “You just destroyed Peter’s science project!”

“These tiny colorful balls were his science project? What was it on? Tiny colorful balls?” Thor asked as he stood up to look at the science project he had completed crushed.

“No. It was a model of the solar system. And you just crushed it. How did you not feel that when you sat down?” You whined as more parts of the project fell from Thors jeans and back into the counter.

“Lady Y/n, you must be mistaken. I’ve seen the solar system with my own eyes. And then I had my eye cut out. And then I had my eye replaced and saw the solar system again. Peters little balls looked nothing like it.” Thor told you, making you roll your eyes up to the ceiling and stamp your feet like a little kid.

“I don’t care about your optic history.” You groaned. “Peter’s been working on it for weeks and your giant butt just crushed it in seconds.”

“Thank you. I eat a lot of yams to get these yams.” Thor smiled at the presumed compliment and patted his thigh. You watched him for a moment before letting out a deep sigh.

“Okay.” You was all you could stay in your effort to remain calm.

“I don’t see what all the petulance is about. If he formed one solar system out of tiny colorful balls, surely he can do it again. All the pieces are right here.” Thor pointed out.

“Yes, but that doesn’t erase the fact that you ruined the project he spent weeks working on. He’s gonna be devastated when he sees this. And who taught you the word “petulance”? Have you been watching The Twilight Zone again? I don’t know why you do that. It always scares you.”

“Never you mind.” He wagged a finger. “I do feel bad for the boy. I’ll collect the tiny balls since it was my behind that crushed them and then Peter can glue them back together.”

“He can’t. It’s due tomorrow and right now he’s on…I don’t know. He’s just busy and he can’t fix it tonight.” You sighed and started to collect the scattered pieces of the project.

“Busy doing what? You’re here and his small balls were finished. What else could the boy be doing?” Thor wondered. You paused for a moment and felt that sick feeling in your stomach again.

“He’s on a date.” You said for the first time out loud since Peter told you his plans for the evening. You’d been quietly stewing all day over it and letting it settle in a massive dark cloud over your head.

“Well I’m sure the man he’s with will be understanding that he has to come home to fix his balls.” Thor told you.

“Stop saying balls!” You scolded. “And the date is with a girl, for your information. A very pretty girl from our business class who smells like a vanilla and my broken dreams.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Lady Y/n. I never knew why but I know that small boy means a lot to you.” Thor said sympathetically and put his hand on your shoulder. You gave him a sympathetic smile and patted his hand.

“Seems like a lot of things are broken tonight.” Thor continued. “Your dreams, Peters balls-“

“Say balls one more time.” You said through clenched teeth.

“Or what? You’ll stab me?” Thor challenged you.

“What? No. Jesus Christ. Who hurt you?” You mumbled and pushed his hand off your shoulder.

“My brother. And then he hurt me again. And then my sister hurt me. And then my brother once more before he died before my eyes. Enough about me, why are your dreams broken?”

“It’s complicated.” You sighed. “Can I tell you something personal?”.

“No.” Thor replied and left the room without another word. You shrugged in defeat and wondered why you even bothered.

“Well that was a fine howdy do.” You mumbled and finished collecting the pieces. You laid out all the broken bits of Peter’s project on the kitchen counter and folded your arms. It would be a lot of work for Peter and you had no idea what hour he’d be getting back. As much as you hated the idea of him being on a date, you more so hated the thought of him coming home happy and his smile falling when he saw what had become of all his hard work.

“I need to fix these balls.” You whispered to yourself. You grabbed Saturn and one it’s broken rings and started to see how you could glue them back together.

“No. I can’t do this.” You said out loud. “I can’t fix every little thing in Peter’s life just to make him happy. I’m not his girlfriend. I’m not the one he asked on a date. I’m just a friend.”

You put the pieces down and folded your arms to keep your hands off it. You knew you should walk away, but you couldn’t stop thinking about all the nights you walked past his room and saw him working on the project. He’d put so much effort into it and now it was in pieces on the counter.

“A girlfriend would spend the next few hours working on a project that has no impact on me just to save Peter the trouble. A good friend would feel bad that his work got destroyed and offer condolences when he got home. And I’m a good friend. Not a girlfriend. It’s not my problem. So I’m walking away.” You decided and left the room. You lasted all of three minutes before you ran back into the room with a tube of crazy glue.

“I gotta fix the balls.” You exclaimed and plopped yourself down at the table. Once you organized all the planets and parts of the solar system, you went to Peter’s room to get the sketched out drawing he had made of the project to use as a blueprint. You silently thanked Peter for being so meticulous and followed his sketch to rebuild his project.

Time went by slowly but your hands cramped up quickly as you worked on the model. It was around the time you glued on Saturns 30th moon, you understood why it took Peter so long to complete the project. All the moons and planets looked the same to you so you had to carefully study his drawings and rely on your memory of when you helped him with the project to guide you as you worked. You had to stop every so often to rub your eyes and roll out your wrists to keep them from getting stiff.

You drifted off into sleep at some point when staring at Jupiters moons became a little too mind numbingly boring. Peter got back from his date about midnight and strolled past you on his way to his room. He backtracked when he realized you were asleep at the table and frowned. His completed science project was beside you, save for one missing moon next to Jupiter. His eyebrows knit together in confusion over the sight so he gently shook you awake.

“Hey. You awake?” He asked in a soft tone as he shook your shoulders. You shot up immediately and nearly knocked your head into his.

“I’m not snoring.” You blurted as you pulled the hair that was stuck to your cheek away.

“I know.” He chuckled. “What are you doing here? Why is Ganymede stuck to your face?”

“Why is what?” You asked through a yawn. Peter smiled and pulled the missing moon off your cheek and held it out to show you.

“Ganymede. The largest moon in the solar system.” He told you and put it in its correct spot on the model.

“There is no way you saw a random gray ball stuck to my face and correctly identified it as Gammy meme.” You insisted.

“Ganymede.” He corrected. “And I only know because I labeled them. See?”

Peter pulled the moon back off to show you a tiny G written on the bottom with the word “Jupiter” in parentheses beside it.

“They’re labeled?” You nearly shouted. “Well that would’ve been helpful four hours ago.”

“Four hours? That’s how long you’ve been here? What happened?” Peter frowned and took a seat beside you. You gave him a sheepish smile and looked at the model.

“I’m sorry, Peter. Thor sat on your project by accident.” You admitted. “I’ve been putting it back together ever since. I think I got most of it the way you had it but I never found Pluto. I honestly think it went up his ass and he just didn’t realize.”

“You spent four hours fixing my project?” He asked with a surprised smile.

“Of course I did. I know how hard you worked on this. I didn’t want you to have to start all over.” You told him. He gave you a fond smile and placed his hand on top of yours. Your eyes flicked to your hands and you gulped but said nothing.

“I really appreciate this but you really didn’t have to do this. You should have called me. I could’ve come home and fixed it myself.”

“But I knew you were really excited about tonight. I didn’t want to interrupt your date.” You said without looking at him.

“Well that was very selfless of you. And I hate to tell you this after all the work you did, but the date was bad. I would’ve loved an excuse to leave.” He admitted, making you smile involuntarily.

“It was bad?” You asked and quickly cleared your throat to cover up your smile.

“Woah. Don’t sound too happy.” He snorted.

“What?” You asked in a high pitched voice. “I’m not. Why would that make me happy? But please elaborate anyway.”

“It was bad.” He grimaced. “Like, season 6 of Glee level bad.”

“That bad?” You gasped. “So many forgettable characters. So many odd couple choices.”

“They sang Let it Go. They worked Let it Go from Frozen into the plot and made them sing it.” Peter shook his head.

“That was not the worst for me. The worst was when Mr. Shue rapped Same Love. They let the straight adult rap a song about being gay when the entire cast of queer young people were right there. And wasn’t there a child in the club for some reason? And twins who were lowkey dating?”

“Yep. All of that. And yet, my date was still worse.” He shrugged. You looked down at your lap and smiled a little before quickly dropping it.

“It was that bad, huh?” You asked and tried not to sound too interested.

“So bad.” He sighed. “She was a great girl, don’t get me wrong. We just had no connection whatsoever. She didn’t laugh at any of my jokes and then there were a few times where I thought she was joking so I laughed but she didn’t and then we sat in awkward silence.”

“That’s the worst. I hate awkward silence. I once pretended to forgot the word for “seatbelt” just to keep a conversation going with an uber driver. I kept calling it a strap on.”

“Wait, is that not what a strap on is?” Peter played dumb. “Should we Google it to make sure?”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes. “Keep going. I want to hear more about this awful date with the girl you’ll never see again.”

“There was just no spark. We realized pretty quickly that we didn’t have anything in common. At one point, she asked me if Star Wars was the “movie with the things you can’t feed after midnight”. So I don’t foresee a second date.”

“Wow. She had to have a serious lack of knowledge about two major huge pop culture movies to ask that question.”

“I know. I told her yes and she believed me.” Peter replied, making you laugh. He laughed as well over how ridiculous the whole night had been before stopping to look at you. When your laughter died down and you realized he was staring at you, you smiled shyly and looked over at the project to avoid eye contact.

“Well, I’m sorry it didn’t go well.” You told him. “Maybe the next girl will understand you more.”

“Yeah. I hope so.” He said in a soft voice and never stopped looking at you.

“You’ll have better luck next time. To be honest, I thought the date was doomed as soon as you told me you were going for sushi. You hate raw fish.”

“Because I’m not a seagull.”

“Because you’re not a seagull, yeah.” You laughed. “I think of that every time I eat sushi. I’m no better than those damn seagulls.”

“Don’t say that. You’re way better. A seagull would not have done all this for me.” Peter insisted and gestured to the project. You looked over at the solar system you had given too many hours of your life too and smiled as you realized something.

“I had to fix it. I didn’t want you to be stressed.”

“But didn’t this stress you out? Designing this thing gave me gray hair and premature menopause.” Peter replied, making you laugh softly.

“A little.” You admitted. “But I felt better when I remembered why I was doing it.”

“Why were you doing it?”

“Because I’d do anything for you, Peter.” You said simply. You watched his ears turn pink and he turned his head so that you wouldn’t see his smile.

“I’d do anything for you too, you know.” He said in a quiet voice.

“Careful.” You warned him. “You already owe me big time for fixing this unnecessarily detailed solar system. If you tell me you’d do anything for me, you’re really at my mercy.”

“Uh oh. Sounds dangerous.” He laughed softly. You shared another moment of eye contact and smiled softly at each other.

“It’s late. We should probably get to bed.” You suggested.

“You’re right. Thank you again for this.” Peter said and picked up the project. You didn’t know if you were sleep deprived or delirious from working on the project all night but you felt compelled to share every secret you had with Peter.

“Honestly, Peter, I was happy to do this stupid science project because it kept me from thinking about you on your date.” You told him as you got up and rubbed your tired eyes.

“Really? Why didn’t you want to think about that?”

“Because whenever I did think about you on your date, I wanted to throw up.” You admitted. “And then rip out my hair. And then eat my hair and throw it back up. And then kill my self or something.”

“Well,” Peter said slowly, “I see your urge to rip your hair out and raise you the fact that I only said yes to this date because she wears the same perfume as you. And I needed a night off from staring at the ceiling and thinking about what would happen if I just told you how I felt.”

You stopped mid yawn and gave him a confused look. His eyes were darting everywhere except for your eyes and you could see the rosy glow on his cheeks even in the dim light of the kitchen.

“Oh? And how do you feel?” You wondered and crossed your arms. Peter gulped before sitting up straight in his chair.

“I don’t know. Why did me being on a date make you so upset?” He challenged you. You narrowed your eyes at him and he looked nervous but didn’t back down.

“I asked you first.” You shrugged.

“Well I asked you second.” He replied. “And as Aristotle or whoever once said, first is the worst. Second is the best. Third is the one with the hairy chest.”

“Ew, what?” You grimaced. “It’s treasure chest. Third is the one with the treasure chest.”

“That makes no sense. Why would a person in third place, the very last place, be rewarded with a treasure chest? They’re the loser so they get a hairy chest. Now that’s sensical.”

“No it’s not.” You scoffed. “It makes even less sense. If I come in third place, does that mean my chest will grow hair? Or does it mean I will be given a torso with a hairy chest? Or, hear me out, does it imply that my chest is already hairy. And that’s why I came in third.”

“You did what in third?” Peter mumbled.

“Shut up. Can we get back to what we were talking about?”

“You’re right. We should go to sleep.” Peter said and tried to walk past you. You placed a hand on his shoulder to keep him in place and he gulped.

“Hold up.” You told him. “I’m cashing in that favor you owe me right now. We gotta talk. Sit back down.”

“I’m sat.” Peter said quietly and sat back down in his seat. You pulled your chair up to be across from him and sat down as well.

“I’m going to ask you again and I don’t want to hear another single reference to chests or placement.” You prefaced. “How do you feel?”

Peter scratched the back of his head to spare some time because he knew he was caught. He suddenly got a shy smile on his face suddenly and looked over at his project.

“Can I show you something?” He asked you as he pulled the sun off the center of the project.

“Dude.” You sighed. “I just glued that.”

“I know. And I’ll fix it. But look.” He said and turned the sun over. You looked at him in confusion and leaned forward to see what he was talking about. On the bottom of the sun in Peter’s hand writing were your first and last initials.

“My initials? Why? You smiled in surprise and looked up at him.

“Because the solar system revolves around the sun.” He explained. “But my solar system revolves around you.”

You stayed quiet as he put the sun back on the model and took your hand. A look of skepticism stayed on your face as he looked into your eyes.

“I know I do a good job of hiding it. But there is a piece of you in everything I do.” He said. “There always has been. This was just one of my more obvious ones.”

“Wow.” You said after a beat. “I really should’ve looked at the bottom of these.”

“Yeah. You should’ve.” He laughed and leaned in a little.

“Yeah. I should’ve.” You cracked a smile and leaned in as well. You stared into big brown eyes for a second and decided this was the last night you and Peter were just friends.

“Can I ask you one more thing?”

“Is it about the solar system?”

“No.” You rolled your eyes. “Did you kiss her tonight?”

“I don’t know. Ask me that question again one minute from now.” Peter said as he closed the gap between you and kissed you. You wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer since you’d been waiting for this for a while. And it was everything you imagined it would be. When the kiss started to heat up, Peter slipped an arm around you and picked you up with ease. He hastily placed you down on the counter and you jumped apart when you heard a crunching sound.

You pulled out of the kiss and looked down to see that Peter had placed you directly on top of the science project that you had just spent hours fixing. You both stared at the scattered pieces in stunned silence for a moment before he gave you a sheepish smile. You didn’t smile back and instead stared daggers at him while trying to explode his head using your mind.

“I can fix it?” He said through a nervous laugh. You held your hands up in defeat and hopped off the counter without a word.

“What? That’s how this night ends? Come on.” Peter whined and followed you as you left the room and continued your silent treatment towards him.

“You’re seriously going to walk away after that? We had something going there. Don’t go now.” He whined some more and trotted after you like a puppy.

“Go get something going with the planets I spent the last four hours glueing back together.” You grumbled and held up your middle finger for him to see as he trailed after you.

“Come on.” He half laughed, half groaned. “You can’t send me to bed after a kiss like that. We need to at least talk about it. Let’s go back and…” Peter trailed off when you passed his bedroom and he caught a glimpse of his clean floor.

“Wait, did you clean my room too?” He asked, knowing he had left it a mess before he left for the date. You froze in your tracks for a moment but decided to keep the upper hand instead of admitting to Peter that you were so down bad that you had in fact cleaned his room.

“I don’t know. I don’t have all the answers, Peter. Goodnight.” You said and slammed your door in his face. He barely had time to react before you opened your door back up and grabbed a fistful of his shirt.

“Get your ass in here, loser.”

“Don’t you mean get your anus in here? Because it sounds like Uranus?” He said with a proud smile. You stared him dead in the eyes and didn’t crack even a hint of smile.

“Do you want to come in here or not?”

“I already unzipped my pants, yeah.” He admitted as he dashed through your bedroom door.

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1K notes · View notes

im-sleepdeprived · 2 months

Note

Your page says requests are open, so I'm sorry if I missed something 🙏🏻 Could you possibly do Peter Parker (preferably TASM) and friend reader who has a pet jumping spider that she named after him (bc she's crushing bad)? I think it would be funny if she didn't know he was Spider-man. ❤️

this is actually the cutest thing ever i loved writing this😭 hope you enjoy the little blurb !! no warnings just tooth rotting fluff and some deep, deep pining !!

“Look!” You exclaimed, holding up a see-through container filled with dirt, grass, and twigs, housing your newly acquired pet.

Peter leaned down to peer into it. “He’s adorable.”

You beamed. “I know right!” You’d always had a fascination for critters, but especially arachnids. Hence the tiny jumping spider in your hands right now. Peter found it precious when you rambled on about your love for spiders, not knowing that your very best friend (and long time admirer) was, in part, one. He always felt a little special.

He knew it was stupid, you were never talking about him. Hell, you had no clue he was Spider-Man. But still. Usually everyone was freaked out about spiders, people hated them, even him (before the bite) and yet you managed to see the beauty in them. What other people found gross and freaky you found intriguing.

You’d been over the moon this past week since you found out there were jumping spiders finally available (he never would’ve guessed it, but apparently they were popular pets) at your local reptile store, (you were also adamant about not getting one from a big chain store).

“I named him after you,” you admitted a little bashfully.

“Oh?” Peter could feel his heart speed up. Maybe his secret wasn’t as well protected as he thought it was.

“His eyes, see?” You moved the container closer to him and placed your index finger on it, tapping gently. “He’s got those two big ones in the front and these ones on the side.” More tapping from your finger. “He reminded me of you when you wear glasses,” you giggled sweetly.

Peter felt his heart soar. “Yeah?” He smiled wide. “Well I’ve gotta say I’m honored, I know how long you’ve wanted one.”

“Yeah,” you beamed. You always appreciated that Peter let you ramble on about your favorite things, no matter how weird they were. You knew it was an unconventional interest, and yet he never made you feel different or odd they were. It only made you fall that much more in love with him.

“Did you know that the males perform special dances for the females to get them to mate with them?”

You side-eyed Peter, impressed with his knowledge. Usually you were the one hitting him with random facts. “No, actually, I didn’t know that. Could you imagine if humans did that?” You laughed.

“Well isn’t that whats going online these days? With all those dance trends and ‘thirst traps’.” He made quotation marks with his fingers on that last part, making you laugh again.

“I wonder if Spider-Man does that,” you pondered.

“What do you mean?” Peter’s brows furrowed.

“I mean, isn’t he part spider or something? That’s how he can climb walls and stuff, right? And isn’t it why his name is literally Spider-Man. I just wonder how many spider traits he actually possesses.”

“Not the webs, the webs are artificial.” He answered you simply, eyes going wide when he noted the curious look you gave him. “Oh! I mean—I think I heard it—READ IT! Yeah,” he cleared his throat, “I read it somewhere.” Everyday it was getting harder and harder to keep this secret from you.

“Okay weirdo,” you chuckled. “It was between you and him.” You said suddenly.

“Me and who?” Peter asked.

“You and Spider-Man,” you said as if it made all the sense in the world. You tapped the small box in your hands again. “I almost named little Petey here Spider-Man cause I thought it was cute.”

Peter crossed his arms and smirked at you. “Really?” He thought it was the sweetest thing he’d ever heard. If you weren’t careful, he was going to pull out his suit right now and tell you everything. Well, either that or kiss the living daylights out of you. He reallyyy wanted that last one to happen. “And why didn’t you?”

“Well Spider-Man great and all, don’t get me wrong, saving the city and all,” you made a gesture with your hands, “but you’re my best friend Pete. Of course I’d pick you.”

Peter stood shocked. Honestly, he didn’t deserve you and all your kindness. Everyone loved Spider-Man, no one really cared about Peter. No one but you apparently.

“Now,” you grinned wickedly, “wanna take Peter 2.0 out the box and see how far he can jump?”

He scoffed, “Can’t believe you even have to ask sweetheart.”

“Great,” you handed him the container,” you go first. I wanna get a picture of you and your name twin!”

Peter laughed sweetly and looked down at his ‘name twin’ lounging leisurely on his little twig. Slowly, Peter lifted the lid and placed his finger beside Peter 2.0, allowing the spider, about the size of his fingernail, to crawl onto the tip of his finger.

He slowly lifted his wrist out the box and looked over to where you stood, camera in hand, grinning wide. “I took your camera, hope that’s okay.” You said sweetly.

“Yeah, it fine.” he wanted to tell you you could anything of his you wanted.

“Cool,” you held the camera up and positioned the viewfinder so it was in front of your eye. “Okay…Smile in 1…2…” you squealed.

Peter hadn’t noticed, too busy ogling at you and how beautiful you looked using his camera like that, but your jumping spider had, well….jumped.

“Peter!” You yelled.

“Me or him?”

You burst into giggles, Peter (human) following suit.

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deathbyathousandspiders · 1 year

Note

hey! could you write something where tony accidentally finds out the reader, his daughter, and peter are dating? they’re both scared for his reaction but then he’s actually super cool about it :)

I LOVE STARK!READER !!

i got saucy w this one :,) my b

!!! 18+ MDNI !!!

content warnings — steamy peter make outs, light swearing, sexual content, suggestive dialogue.

✨masterlist✨.

2.1k.

Nothing could beat lazy Sundays at the compound. The whole team was either MIA, on a mission, or training, so every room fell still with serenity. It was the perfect time for you to stick your nose in a book, and lounge around the empty estate. Your father was off somewhere across the complex working on some gadget, which left you free to roam around wherever you wanted.

Your hair gently tickled your bare shoulders as you tied it up, laying your book face–open on the kitchen island so that you could keep reading and grab a snack. The air conditioning nipped at the skin exposed from your minimal clothing; your black–cropped tank top and favorite pair of shorts didn’t protect you from the artificial frost in the air, but it certainly helped with the heat when you stepped outside.

Just before your hands fell back to your book, arms wrapped around your waist from behind. Their shape and placement was something so familiar, the touch brought you more comfort than startle. Cedarwood and bergamot were quick to fill your nose whilst your boyfriend’s head craned into the base of your neck. His fingers locked to the belt loops of your shorts, tugging you back into him so that he could feel more of you.

“I’ve been looking for you..” His voice was throaty. Needy. The pads of his thumbs traced tiny circles into either of your hips, gently pressing further into your skin when your hand stretched up to comb through his fluffy brown curls. His affection and body heat were a welcomed company in the cold of the kitchen.

A smile found your face, even though Peter couldn’t see it from where he was. “I missed you too, baby.” Humming, your fingers scratched his scalp. “D’you know who’s here right now?” Your voice grew hushed, heart racing with the small adrenaline rush infiltrated your system.

“Your dad’s in his lab, Steve and Natasha are in the gym, and Vision’s with Wanda in the meeting room, but otherwise.. Everyone else’s out..” Peter’s voice dropped an octave as he spoke just above a whisper, his lips finding your collarbone. “Sam, Bucky, Thor..” In between each name, he placed another kiss on your neck, only inching higher. The more skin he nipped at, the more your fingers curled around his hair, curving your neck so that he had more access to you. “Bruce, Clint, Rhodey, Pepper…” His whispers sent shivers down your spine, especially as his left hand slid under the fabric of your shirt.

As Peter trailed kissed up to your jaw, a shuttered moan caught between your lips. You fought the urge to roll your hips back into his, knowing that you couldn’t finish what you were starting. If anybody found you two, your secret relationship would be out, and your dad would give you hell for it. “Peter.. We can’t…” You spoke breathlessly, tugging at his hair; it was an attempt to pull him from your body, but you didn’t try too hard.

His lips hovered over his favorite soft spot in the crevasse of your jawline, brushing his teeth along the surface of it just to rile you. It certainly didn’t help that he aimed his breathy chuckle right at it, but god did it feel good. “Why not?”

You huffed impatiently, eyes half lidded whilst your entire body anticipated the gentle brushing of his lips against your neck. His cooling fingers teased at the bottom of your left breast, testing waters you two hadn’t touched before. Sure, you’d let Peter Parker touch you like this plenty of times before, but never in the open like this. Never in the open where your secret could be outed.

“Cause I–” You felt the tug of Peter’s smirk against your skin at how worked up you were already getting. “I’m reading…” You knew that Peter was well aware of how secretive you needed to be. ‘Reading’ was merely just to give him a hard time.

He let out a quiet sigh, pressing a lingered kiss to your cheek. His thumb lightly rubbed at your rib cage beneath your shirt, but otherwise, he gave up his attempt. “You’re sure I can’t even get one kiss?” He asked, pouty even in his tone of voice.

You turned your head to look at him. Your eyes glanced at his lips just to tease him, “Over my dead body, Parker.” Your voice still sang out low, wanting nothing more than to taste him right then and there.

Peter’s face inched closer to yours, snickering quietly at your stubborn response. “Not if your dad kills me first..” He mused, voice still just as groveled as before. His lips nearly brushed against yours, but the sound of the floorboards outside of the kitchen made you both add three feet between you.

“Why would I kill you?” Your dad’s voice hummed nonchalant, as if he wasn’t interrupting such an intimate moment. He walked right through the thickening tension like it wasn’t the weight that it was. Tony’s focus seemed to be glued to his holographic wrist watch, completely oblivious to Peter’s hand slyly slipping out from under your black camisole.

You and Peter glanced at each other, astonished that he seemed so unfazed and unaware. Perhaps, your father didn’t hear as much of the conversation as you assumed he did. Maybe he truly was clueless to the blush coating your cheeks, and the timid bulge poking at the fly of Peter’s jeans.

“Uhh..” Peter lost every thought that occupied his brian. “Because I ate the last Pop Tart. I–I just figured you’d be upset.” Even he didn’t sound convinced about the excuse.

Finally, Tony looked up from his watch, eyeing you first, then Peter. This was the closest you two were to getting caught, and even though the AC was cranked fairly high, it felt like the air suddenly ran much cooler. Your heart was in your throat, easing a little when your father walked over and placed a gentle kiss on your cheek.

Tony leaned back on the kitchen island beside you, crossing his arms over his Nirvana band–tee. “Lucky for you, kid, I’ve got a whole secret stash in my lab.” He spoke with his typical Tony tone, “I’ll let you off the hook this time.”

Little did you or Peter know that your father actually heard most of your conversation. How much of it? He’d never tell you. Tony Stark knew that you and Peter had the hots for each other for a long time. He was just waiting for both of you to come clean about the relationship, or for the perfect time for him to address it. He’d known for a while, but the longer it took, the more entertaining it was to act like he was oblivious to it. Now, how he found out about the relationship, he’d never tell that to you either.

“Are you calling my daughter a liar, Rogers?” Tony asked the blonde from across the pool table, watching as the captain missed the shot with no reaction.

Steve stood upright, stepping back so that Tony had room to make his turn. “No. No, Tony.” He started, “All I’m saying is that if Peter were chivalrous, he would ask you for your permission first. That’s all.”

The topic of the evening was why you and Peter both flaked out of game night. Ever since Sam joked that you could’ve been bailing to go out together, every conversation Tony had was directed on how likely the possibility truly was.

His eyes squinted at Steve, readjusting his cue and stance in one swift movement. He knew Steve was traditional, but sometimes, Tony forgot just how traditional he really was. “They don’t need my permission. They’re teenagers.” Tony creased his hips, focusing on the pool table for a second. “Besides,” with a faint clank, Tony knocked two balls in with one hit, “Maybe she asked him out. It’s the twenty–first century.”

Steve sighed with a slight twinge of annoyance, both at Tony’s coyness and his success in their game. He leaned on his cue like a cane, watching the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist walk around the table again. “Alright, fine.” Steve huffed. “But if they are out canoodling tonight, what are you going to do about it?”

A focused glare glistened in Tony’s eyes as he bent over to take the shot. He pulled the cue back a few times, pondering on both his turn and the question. If he made this shot correctly, he could win the whole game; if you and Peter were really out on a date, what would he do?

Tony shoved the wooden rod in his hand, acing the shot just like he calculated. He subtly smirked to himself, looking back at Steve to answer his question. “I’ll find a way to give them hell for it.”

And that, he was. Ever since he caught you and Peter getting frisky on the security system later that night. That conversation happened months ago, and Tony still managed to make both of you incredibly jittery. He wasn’t entirely sure why it was such a big deal to tell him, or why you’d kept it a secret for so long, but he knew sooner than later you’d find a way to tell him.

Little did he know, Peter Parker was finding his way onto your bedroom in the thick of night after patrols.

You unlocked the door to your balcony, welcoming him in with the kiss you meant to give him hours earlier. Hungrily, your lips clasped with his, getting drunk on his taste, and lacing your fingers in his hair. “God, I missed you..” You spoke between kisses.

“Missed you too, baby..” Peter let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, finally able to relax in your presence.

Both of you took steps towards your bed, slow and steady to avoid the lack of contact. Peter’s mask was lost somewhere on your bedroom floor, and you wasted no time to press the button on his chest and strip him from the suit he’d been wearing.

Peter got to your bed first, sitting back on it and quickly helping you climb on top of him. His hands grasped every inch of you that they could — grazing your neck, squeezing at your hips, grabbing your ass, and now inching up your inner thigh as you straddled his lap. His hips arched up to meet yours, pressing up against you in a delicious way.

Tongues greeting each other, you both moaned into each other’s mouth. You couldn’t get enough of each other, and the foreplay only reminded you of how little patience you had for it. You didn’t just want Peter right now, you needed him. Inside you. The ache in your lower stomach felt throbbing, and you were confident that your arousal was already coating the fingers Peter had at your upper thigh.

Just as you both parted the kiss to catch your breath, your bedroom door abruptly opened, light invading the room. Your blood ran cold as your head snapped toward the door in time with Peter’s; you both met the casual stare of your father. Tony Stark stood in the doorframe, unfazed, in pajamas, toothbrush in his mouth.

The room fell quiet, apart from the sounds of the bristles cleaning Tony’s pearly whites, and the faint heavy breaths that you and Peter tried to catch.

Taking the toothbrush out of his mouth, Tony was the first to break the awkward, deafening, silence. “Hey, Kid.” Tony’s head nodded upwards, as though he were greeting Peter in public. Not like he was speaking nonchalantly to Peter, flushed, in boxers, sat beneath his daughter’s thighs. “Next time, can you use the front door so that I don’t have to disarm the security system?” Even if little he knew, little was still more than nothing.

Peter stared blankly at him, sure as hell that this had to be some nightmare he just hadn’t woken up from yet. He glanced at you, then swallowed the frog stuck in his throat. “Uh– uh, yep! Yeah, I–uh, I can do that!” He wasn’t sure why his voice always raised two octaves when he was nervous, but it definitely made this moment that much more amusing for Tony.

With a small smile, your dad grabbed the doorknob with his freehand. “Thanks.” He then put the toothbrush back in his mouth, slowly shutting the door. “Have fun! Use protection.” His words were muffled and spat due to having his mouth full, but he shut the door after that.

As awkward as it must’ve been for you and Peter, Tony found that moment to be as satisfying as he pictured it to be. Boy, he would give Peter the talking to of a lifetime in the morning, but it thrilled him to know that you’d found someone who made you so happy.

He didn’t see need to kill Peter either, after all.

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luciantapes · 2 years

Text

The forgotten child

Pairing's : fem! reader x peter parker, tony stark daughter! x tony stark, tony stark daughter! x peter parker

Warnings: really sad angst, jealousy, daddy issues, neglect, lmk if i missed anything! :)

Summary: dad of the year award? surely isn't going too him

a/n : I know the gif doesn't really match the theme of this story I just really liked it. I did not reread this so please ignore any grammar mistakes. Also, I'm not sure if i wrote a panic attack correctly but I wrote based on what their like for me. hope you all enjoy!

you really tried not to become the forgotten child, always tried you're very hardest to live up to your father expectations, trying to make him proud in hope's he'd show some form of attention.

always studying to get straight a's even through countless anxiety attacks from fear of failing and disappointing your father.

all you ever wanted was reassurance, and if you ever got lucky enough a "You did a good job" after getting a high score on a test.

but it never came, it would forever be something you longed to hear. he would usually just mumble a small, quiet "congrats" as his mind stayed focused on his work and his eyes stuck to the blueprint laid out on the table Infront of him.

you always tried you're best not to feel jealous whenever your father held morgan, you had no ressentiment towards morgan whatsoever, in fact she was the one that kept you smiling most days. although you couldn't help but feel your heart tighten from jealousy as you watched them have daddy daughter time

you really did try you're best to be happy for your younger sister, but you couldn't ignore that aching feeling. all you wanted was the attention she had that your heart ached so desperately for, but it never came despite your countless attempts.

you we're astound to hear a new avenger had been recruited, you always enjoyed meeting new people. mainly because they gave you attention they didn't even know you craved.

you always seeked to see the best in people, no matter what the circumstances we're. including peter parker, there was nothing wrong with him, he wasn't a bad person in fact quite a good one, and if you weren't so envious of him you possibly could have been friends with the boy. but you watched how peter and your father clicked so easily becoming like father and son.

it made the knots in your stomach tighten as you watched them spend time together, it made you feel as if something was wrong with you, like maybe if you tried harder or changed, he'd give you the attention you deserved.

your mother, pepper always said he loved you just as much as he loved morgan or even peter, but you knew the truth as much as you ignored it you knew. but oh, how you wish he did.

"Mom, I'm home" you called out knowing if father was home, he wouldn't answer you. after not receiving an answer, you decided to look through the house in search of your mother, after a couple of minutes searching you still hadn't found her and decided she probably went out and took morgan with her. you heard talking but it sounded like your father, and peter?? "what's peter doing here?" you wondered. you decided to peak you're head through the door and saw peter and tony standing with their backs faced away from you, working on some upgrades for peter's suit.

"you're a pretty great kid peter" tony told him as he smiled at him patting his shoulder. a wave of jealously hit your chest as you watched them, your throat tightening. "Thank you, Mr. stark," peter smiled cheekily as your fingers clenched into a fist at your side.

"Becoming like my son."

once those words left Tony's lips, your mouth went dry, your head aching as you backed away from the door as quietly as possible, you're breathing picking up rapidly. you quickly made your way to your room, tears forming in your eyes, you walked into your room and shut the door softly as your hands started shaking as you paced around your room quickly, trying to stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks. you never liked crying, it made you feel weak.

you're breathing came out in heavy gasp as you struggled to breathe. you leaned against the wall coughing as you squeezed your eyes shut as you tried to stop the words from replaying in your mind.

"Becoming like my son" continuously echoed through your head as soft sobs left your lips, you didn't want to feel this way, envious of what your father and peter had. it's not peter's fault about what your father feels about you so why hold him accountable. he'll never love you, at least not like he loves peter. you can't figure out why? you always tried you're best to impress him, but nothing seemed to be enough for him, it's like he didn't even care about your existence.

you stumbled over to your bed, taking deep breathes as your body grew exhausted from crying. you plopped down on your bed tiredly as you snuggled up against your blanket that was where your pillows we're supposed to be, you grabbed a pillow and hugged it too sleep.

you didn't want to put the blame on peter because it wasn't his fault, but a little piece of your heart blamed peter parker.

a/n: CLIFFHANGER!?!? I decided to leave it for now because I haven't come up with an ending that I thought fit the way I wanted so if you guys have ideas, please let me know. reblog's are highly appreciated, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!

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pearlfeline · 4 months

Text

homesick

peter parker x fem!reader

word count: 2k

tw: none

a/n: i used to write for hp and i tried to start anew with this blog but it failed lol. (might still write for hp if i feel like it) but i luv peter and wanted to write for him so bad. i kinda didn't know how to end this but i thought it was fun to write anyway. thanks for reading.

"What can I getcha?" You attempted a decent smile, though Peter could tell you were tired. He knew tired. He IS tired.

Peter, blinking that thought away, snaps back into reality. He is in a small diner, and he took too long deciding outside the door if he wanted to go inside, so to avoid looking stupid he shuffled inside and sat down.

"Banana wheat cake... Is it any good?" He lets out a dry chuckle.

You press your lips into a thin line. "I know I work here but..." You bit your bottom lip, tucking your pen behind your ear. You drew closer to Peter so he could hear you. "It sucks. Get the breakfast combo." You winked, tracing a circle around the menu item. Peter unintentionally takes in a whiff of your perfume, giving him a hard time remembering what you just recommended.

"It comes with a free coffee." You flip open your notepad again, and as you grab the pen from behind your ear, a piece of hair falls to your face.

"I-I'll get that then." Peter closes the menu handing it back to you.

"Great. Bacon or sausage?"

Peter catches a lump in his throat. Almost as if words were filling to the brim and he couldn't say a word.

"Bacon." He smiles but keeps his gaze on his hands. They were almost uncontrollably fiddling with each other.

"Got it. I'll be right back with that."

Peter watches as you quickly let go of your charm to catch up with refills of coffee. You worked hard every day just to make rent but you never complained. Peter was never a customer until today, yet he could tell so much about you. His eyes couldn't help but follow you wherever you went.

His eyes followed you around the counter, grabbing a tray and putting his food on it. You were trying to keep him from waiting any longer and picked up the pace approaching his booth.

“Oh!” You slip, losing grip of the tray holding Peter’s breakfast.

Before you could react to the impact of the floor, you were pulled up. You opened your eyes and find Peter’s arm over your waist, successfully maneuvering the tray to grab everything that flew.

“Great reflexes.” You looked up at him with bewilderment.

“Thanks.” He shyly loosened his grip on your waist. You pull down and flatten your apron. “Whew. That was incredibly lame of me but surprisingly cool for you.” You let out a chuckle, making sure nothing was ruined on his plate.

“Why surprising?” He replied. “Do I look like a loser?” He suppressed a small smile.

“No you just look more… smart cool and maybe a possible ninja? I don’t know what else to call what you just did.”

Peter lets his smile crack a little, taking a sip of his previously airborne coffee.

“Don’t get me wrong, you’re not lacking physically because you’re a book smart type of guy.” You give him a quick once over cheekily.

Before Peter can panic and come up with a mess of a response, a disgruntled old man cuts the moment short. “Coffee! Hello?” He slams his mug on the table.

“Duty calls.” You gave him a small wave, quickly making your way to the opposite side of the diner.

Peter spent the remainder of his time quietly finishing his breakfast, stealing quick glances at you.

Watching you smile even though you’re probably overwhelmed and exhausted. The hardest part was deciding when to leave. He had to go eventually to avoid being a creep. He had finished his food ten minutes ago. Before he leaves, he folds a $20 dollar bill into an origami heart, leaving it on the table.

The next morning, Peter walked a little faster, posture a little straighter, and smiled a little more.

Peter wanted to see you again. He knew not to tell you about the past, but what would be so wrong just talking to you? He attempts a nonchalant glance through the windows, making sure you were inside before walking in himself.

Peter gives you a shy head nod, making his way to sit at the counter instead of a booth.

"There's the generous tipper from yesterday. Hi, I'll be right with you." You got up from speaking to your coworker and greeted Peter.

"Was my service that good?" You flip open your notepad.

"The best." Peter pretends to study your name tag. "...Y/N."

"Well, thanks..?" You tilted your head slightly.

"Peter."

"Ah, Thank you, Peter."

"I won't be her for long, I just wanted a coffee."

"And you came here?" You snickered. You only half meant that statement. You didn't know why, but seeing him a second time was making your dreary work day go by easier.

"Yeah, in case you decided to fall again today."

You gasp, being dramatically 'offended'. "I'll let that comment slide... Since you gave me that nice tip. Even though I was struggling to unravel it for a while in my car." You grab a pot of coffee, pouring it into a cup that says 'print design here'.

"Thanks." Peter chuckles.

"No sugar?" You asked.

Peter's gaze slowly reached yours. "How did you know?"

"Know what?" You raise an eyebrow innocently. "Nobody here drinks black coffee unless they're over fifty or a pretentious student. Oh, were you afraid to ask this whole time? Hold on." You reach and dig into the pocket of your apron.

"N-no, it's fine. I don't really drink sweet coffee anymore." Peter's face falls in defeat. Of course, you wouldn't remember his order. Peter had to remind himself that he was a customer and a customer only to you.

"So, you're a pretentious student huh? No wonder I got a big tip. Let me guess you're studying tech?"

Peter shakes his head. "Biochemistry. Though, I do have somewhat of a tech background. I-" Peter almost rambles on but catches himself. "I'm poor. Not really enough money to be pretentious." He sinks into his seat, taking a sip to cover his face.

"Dude, do you know how tipping works? You can't be poor and tip me $20 after a breakfast combo from a dingy part of the city."

"You work hard." Peter scratches his neck. "...At least from what I've seen." He sighs.

"Are you actually poor?" You start wiping down the counter to keep your boss off your back for being unproductive.

Peter sheepishly avoids your eyes.

"...I'm poor too." You smiled. "If that wasn't painfully obvious by how I look."

"No. Not at all." Peter took this opportunity to take in your appearance. You looked exactly the same. Even though it had taken months for him to face you again. It's like your eyes were waiting right where he saw them last, inviting you in.

Unknowingly, you take his one-sided reunion with you as innocent flirting.

"I get off at 5." You blurted out. Why were you so inherently flirty all of a sudden?

Peter straightens his posture as if that would help him hear you properly. He blankly stares at you as you do the same for a response.

“…Are you free..? Or interested?” You throw the towel over your shoulder.

“YE-yes. Yeah. I have no classes today I can come get you of course but I don’t have a car I just walked here but not from far.” He rambles.

You visibly relax your composure as that alone was enough evidence that Peter was just a nerd without the rich snob part. Though he kept the physique of someone who would visit his rich dad’s personal gym.

“Here's my number. I’ll get you an actual good meal.” You shyly look down at your feet, ignoring your ugly, work-approved kitchen shoes.

“Deal.” He pays for his burnt diner coffee, and leaves an appropriate tip this time.

You sneak in one last wave before he disappears around the street corner.

This shift couldn’t have gone any slower for you. The wait from 4:00 to 5:00 was the most excruciating pain of consecutive boringness.

When it was time to clock out, you rushed out the back, shoving your work shoes into your book bag and trying to fix your disheveled hair that had been put up by a pencil this entire time.

You rushed to the front of the diner while putting on your wrinkled sweater to mask the smell of butter off you at least a little.

You waited. And waited. And waited some more. 5:15. Why was he late? Did you scare him off? Is he never coming back to the diner? Was that big tip an accident? Maybe he took out the wrong bill and played along today just to avoid being awkward.

“Shiiit.” You groaned. You looked around the intersection. “Maybe he’s rushing towards me?” You thought. “He’s gonna come around any second and say sorry frantically like the nerd he is.”

He didn’t. He never showed. You waited for an hour more and just decided to walk home.

As you were walking along the dark and wet sidewalk, you were internally thanking yourself for bringing that sweater, but cursing because you wanted to take the scenic route and walk to work today.

“Hi miss.” A voice called from behind you.

You turned around to see Spider-man.

“Oh wow, hi?” You’ve never seen him this close before. The rainy afternoon gave his suit an exaggerated glimmer and despite his bug eyes, he didn't seem scary while approaching you.

“Why would a pretty lady like yourself be walking alone?” He starts walking beside you holding out an arm for you.

“Well, I was supposed to leave work an hour ago.. Something came up.” You take his arm cautiously. “I usually walk home anyway, nothing different today.”

Peter feels a lump growing in his throat. Even when he ditched you, you don’t insult him.

“Except… it’s an hour later. That means it’s an hour’s more worth of danger out here.” He jokes.

You nod, not really the response he was expecting. Spider-man was not getting the same treatment as Peter.

“Something wrong?” He felt wrong asking immediately. Yes something’s wrong. He was wrong.

“I just.. I’ve been feeling empty almost. Recently it’s like… It’s like I’m missing something. Not completely empty, but enough absence to feel hopeless. I had a date today and he didn’t show.” You almost continue until you looked up to realize you were talking to a bug man.

“Sorry. It’s dumb. I don’t expect you to understand or help.” You chuckled dryly.

Peter wanted to tell you everything so badly. He was already pushing it by seeing you again. Giving you a second taste of danger. But he burned for you. Maybe the first time was a sign. This was a new opportunity to keep you safe and he blew it. He crawled back to you desperately just for a glimpse of you. To see that you were okay. Now he’s knees deep in a new relationship with you and you didn’t even know.

“It’s not dumb.” He quietly answered. Peter on his way to get you, was leaving his apartment when he saw someone being robbed. “Maybe he ran late?”

You scoffed. “For an hour? More like he forgot.”

Peter knew convincing you to forgive him was bad. He knew doing the opposite was for the best. To tell you to forget Peter. But he couldn’t. He had you right here. Like he used to.

“Things happen.” He shrugged. “What if he got robbed?”

“Wouldn’t you have helped him?” You replied, unimpressed.

“Oh. Well I did help a really handsome dude and he got robbed. Was he like an attractive guy or..?”

“He’s cute." You admitted.

Peter blushes under his mask. Though you had said more affectionate things to him before, apparently he still gets giddy.

"Well, I'm sure he didn't forget someone as pretty as you."

You let out a scoff. "Did you drop down next to me to take me home safely or be stupid?"

Under the mask, Peter had a huge grin. He was proud of you. Still the same in how you always know how to avoid trouble. He rarely ever had to save you. You were too smart. No stranger was safe from you, not even Spider-man.

"Sorry." He says cheekily.

You both eventually reach your apartment though Peter had to act oblivious that this was your home.

"This is me. Thanks Spider-man." You tug on a zipper from your bag, reaching for something in the bottom. Gummy worms

"I don't know if you take payments but uh, I was going to share these with my date. It's my lunch I forgot about. Don't judge."

Peter feels a pang of guilt hit his chest. "Th-thanks... you really don't have to." He slowly takes the bag.

"It's okay really."

Peter sighed. "Look, if that guy is actually stupid enough to ghost you, just call me."

"How do I call you?"

"Like this; SPIDER-MAN SPIDER-MAN AGHHH THAT IDIOT NEVER CALLED ME BACK!" Peter ran around in a circle mocking a girl's voice.

"And you'd help me from wherever you are?" You raised an eyebrow.

"I have pretty good hearing." Peter comically dusts off his shoulder.

"Alright man, no excuses. Even if you're fighting off a giant monster or something you have to help me."

"Something tells me I won't need to. Y'know? One of my powers is basically a gut feeling that's always right." Peter puffs up his chest proudly.

You let out an amused exhale. "You're a nerd. See ya." You went inside, waving without looking behind you.

"See ya." Peter says quietly. As soon as he saw you disappear around the corner, he zipped to the top of a random building.

"hey y/n, so so so so so so sodsdo sorry for ditching you. PLS FORGIVW ME!!! had family emergency. wanna meet tmrw???" Peter mumbled along as he typed, two gummy worms stored in the side of his cheek.

"I sound so lameee haha." Peter thought. He goes to delete but presses send.

"Man."

#pearlfeline #peter parker #spiderman #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #mcu peter parker #mcu!peter parker x reader #peter parker x fem!reader #marvel mcu #mcu #mcu imagine #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you

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sacharinee · 1 year

Text

pairing: bf!peter x fem!reader

synopsis: you tend to peter’s needs with your friends down the hall**

w/c: 1k+

warnings: smut! hj + grinding, cursing, sneaky sex?? minors dni X

a/n: this is my first smut so pls bare w me. like two office references. this wasnt meant to be that smutty but here we are. i hope u like it - feedback always appreciated!

peter is really testing your patience.

he’s been restless the entire evening, shifting and fidgeting on the couch with you. he’s tried laying his head on your lap, tried leaning against the arm of the sofa with his heavy legs on top of you, then decided against everything and sat up straight beside you.

the only thing keeping peter from his ultimate desires was the splatter film rolling on harry’s massive flat screen tv that entertained you and your friends.

harry and mj are cuddled on the loveseat together, fully engrossed in the movie as ned and betty make comfortable on the makeshift bed scattered on the floor in front of you.

it was peter’s idea to have a movie night with his girlfriend and closest friends, but it certainly wasn’t his idea to have the most unbearable boner, right now, at the worst time possible.

“this movie is so gross, who chose this bag of ass?” ned quips.

“i think it was mj, babe” betty whispers.

“yup, it was me.”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about, this movie is amazing,” harry shoves a handful of popcorn into his mouth as yet another character screams and dies an excruciating death on the screen.

ned rolls his eyes at him, “you two deserve each other.”

“hey, you know what? if you don’t like it, there’s the door,” the brunette responds, “i don’t know what’s the cause of all this attitude.”

“it’s be-cause i hate you right now” ned fires back.

“oh, so our entire friendship is a lie, i see how it is.”

“you guys wanna hear another lie?” you chirp, both turning to your attention, “i think you’re both great. seriously. you guys are my best friends and not annoying at all.”

harry crosses his arms and shakes his head in disbelief, “wow.”

“now shut up and watch the movie.”

your attempts are rendered futile, ned and harry continue to argue while mj watches the gory film with contentment and betty covers her eyes.

your attention turns to peter when he’s tugging on your sleeve. “yes, baby?” you peer down at him with sweet eyes, your pretty face makes his crotch ache.

he can’t help but look away, “i need help.” he answers your confusion by bringing your hand down to feel his hard length through his sweatpants.

“are you kidding me, peter?” you whisper. his forehead drops to your shoulder defeated, “i can’t help it, you’re hot when you’re mean, and it really hurts”

peter’s begging makes you feel for him, and you consider your options, “please?”

he’s giving you desperate eyes, and you decide you can’t focus on the movie with your friend’s bickering anyways, so you stand abruptly.

“i’m gonna use the bathroom.”

peter watched you make your way out of the living room, following suit, “m-me too.”

nobody hears or pays attention to the both of you, unaware of the risky events that are to take place down the hall.

your boyfriend catches you slipping into the nearest bedroom, which he realizes is harry’s. he goes to protest on entering but is dismissed when your soft lips passionately capture his by surprise. peter stumbles to kick the door shut as you bring him closer by his shirt, walking him backward till his leg meets the bed. you’re on top of him, lips sliding over each other as you lay him down.

he feels your hot heat press against his crotch and over his throbbing cock.

“y/n/n,” peter whines, “holy shit.” his head tips, and his eyes roll back when he feels you grind on his thick length. he grabs your hips, helping you move fervently against him.

your lips attach to his neck and suck, pleased with your effect on him. peter is so easy to please. you’re glad you wore a skirt tonight, your arousal floods his senses and it’s all he can think about. he’s high on you, and only ever wants to be intoxicated by you.

“s’it feel good, baby?” peter’s heavy breathing and rushed nod gives you your answer when he fails to give you a more coherent response.

you decide to tease, gently grabbing his hands and bringing them beside him. you push your weight further onto his hard on but move languidly; you enjoy torturing peter.

“god, baby, please.” he’s desperate for more. “what’s that, petey?”

“i need,” his eyes are screwed tight, he loses his train of thought when you particularly grind on him roughly.

“use your words, pete. you can do it,” you encourage.

“i- i need more, need to cum.” his raspy whine is what gets you.

you lift yourself further down a bit, eyes fixated on peter as his eyes follow your hands. you slowly undress his bottoms to reveal his pulsating cock, it’s flushed a bright red, almost painful-like.

you don’t do much right away. you glaze your fingers over his member, tracing the prominent veins that run up and down the shaft.

“y/n,” he begs, “do something.”

your fingers slide to the red tip, circling it. peter shudders against your cool touch. his eyes make contact with yours and he leans up to give you a long tender kiss. your hand wraps around his cock, jerking him off.

peter breaks from your sweet lips, “oh fuck.”

you don’t pull back from him. his face, centimeters from yours, looks so pretty, clearly entranced by your magic. you’re breathing into each other’s mouth, and his needy hands pull at your bare thighs. he’s desperate to cum after an evening full of uncomfortable fidgeting and hiding his hard-on from everyone.

he’s lucky to have you, he doesn’t know what he did to deserve an angel sent from heaven, giving him a handjob, in someone else’s bedroom, while his friends are sitting down the hall, unbeknownst to your secret rendezvous.

he’s panting against you, watching your face while you’re watching his cock, twitching under your hand, ready to spill. it’s almost like he’s asking for your approval. “baby? baby, im- im gonna-”

“yo, parker! y/n! did you get lost on your way to the bath-”

unfortunately, you and peter aren’t quick enough to conceal the mess you’ve made on his very bed when he swings the door open.

“are you fucking shitting me?!” and harry’s running down the hall gagging and clawing at his face.

“oops.”

“ugh he’s so dramatic. you know how many times i’ve walked in on him-”

“god, my fucking eyes!”

“he’ll be fine.”

“you’re lying again!”

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cherrycheridarling · 1 year

Text

slip up | t.h.

tom holland x famous!reader

warnings: none just fluff

summary: tom slips up on instagram live

wc: 335

a/n: missed u guys sorry abt my absence:(<3

"That's a wrap for today! Go rest those vocal cords, Y/L/N." Toby, your producer bid you a farewell as you finished in the studio.

You nodded and hugged everyone goodbye before heading to your driver's car. It was at least midnight by the time you got back to your boyfriend's home that he shared with his best mates.

You and Tom had been dating for nearly a year and had done an impressive job of keeping your relationship away from prying eyes. With only a few suspicions here and there, the public saw you two as best friends and nothing more.

In his king sized bed, Tom was on Instagram live chatting with his fans. He needed a way to pass the time as he waited for you to come home from the studio.

"Why am I up so late? Jet lag sucks, guys." Tom lied to his fans.

He hasn't been on a plane in weeks.

"Is anyone in the house awake? Nope. They all sleep at, like, eleven or earlier. Party poopers." he frowned to the camera.

You quietly unlocked the front door, trying your best to not wake anyone in the house. Tiptoeing towards Tom's bedroom, you saw that his light was on, peeking out from under his door. With furrowed eyebrows you opened the door and saw him sitting against the headboard on his phone.

He smiled when he saw you, completely forgetting about his live, "Hi, darling. I missed you," he put his phone down and pecked your lips, "Did you get driven here?" you nodded, "You should've sent me a text," he picked up his phone and glanced at the screen, "I could've—" he froze.

You finished tying your hair up and looked at him with confusion written across your features. You opened your mouth to ask him what was wrong before he slapped a hand over your lips.

He looked at you with wide eyes, "I'm live on Instagram." he whispered.

You had to choke down a laugh because you knew the fans would recognize the sound immediately. You managed to peak at the screen without being in the cameras view and the comments had you struggling to keep your laughter down.

'HE HAS A GF???????'

'i'm gonna kms'

'WHO IS IT'

'no fucking way'

'PLS BE ZENDAYA'

'IM HYPERVENTILATING'

Tom opened and closed his mouth like a fish as he tried to come up with something, anything, to say. "Um, looks like I'll be going now. Thank you for joining and I'll see you all very soon." He had a sheepish grin as he spoke.

You smirked before speaking. "Bye guys." And pressed the button to end the live. Not waiting to see the reactions to your voice or if they would recognize it.

Tom wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you on top of him, "Cheeky one, you are." he placed a kiss on your forehead as you smiled into his chest.

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shellxrls · 10 months

Text

FOR YOU

mdni | 18+ content

pairing: peter parker x fem!reader

warnings: period head / oral - f!receiving / very light smut / descriptions of injuries & blood / angst if you squint

peter parker likes giving period head. he doesn't have a strange fascination with your blood, doesn't think he needs to do it to be close to you, but he does it anyway.

he does it because of all the times he's desperately crawled through your second floor window and stained the egg white walls with sticky streaks of blood that seep into a permanent muddy brown before you even get a chance to scrub at them. he does it because of the time he destroyed your favourite nightshirt as a consequence of the violent gash on his lower midriff that refused to stop pulsing; ebbing blood all over the cream coloured fabric and staining it beyond repair before you could even begin to think of anything other than the fact that spiderman was successfully bleeding out against your windowsill. he does it because of the times where you've been disgusting and damp with his blood, but never refused to cradle him to sleep or press kisses into his sweat & blood streaked hairline.

he does it because for once that tangy, metallic taste that lingers in his mouth is a result of the adoration he feels for you. a reminder of all the times you've been there when no one else was, of the way he thinks he could die happy between the gentle warmth of your thighs.

and for once, the heavy staining and protruding scent is something peter doesn't have to reflect on with a rising heart rate and sweaty palms when he remembers the way he felt like he was going to die without you.

@shellxrls 2023

#my works.ᐟ ⋆｡˚𖦹 #mdni.ᐟ ⋆｡˚𖦹 #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader smut #peter parker x reader angst #peter parker imagine #peter parker blurb #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fluff #peter parker x you #peter parker smut #tom!peter parker x reader #tom!spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman #tom holland smut #cw period sex #mdni

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ruewrote · 8 months

Text

𝑠𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢.

PAIRING: peter parker x gn!reader WARNINGS: arguing, strong language GENRE: angst SONG INSPIRATION: naked by james arthur WORD COUNT: 440 PARTS: one, two, three

navigation | inbox

you couldn't keep doing this with him. finally coming to the terms that peter would never truly choose you. him being out every night without fail proved that.

today everything changes, you choose yourself instead of him.

there had been one too many date nights cancelled, one too many times that he'd slip into bed with you, not knowing that you were still wide awake with tear stained cheeks.

what was the point anymore? you barely saw him as it is.

loving him with all your might to only get little to nothing in return was draining.

if it wasn't the relationship or lack there of, it was your job. your boss asking too much, too late, your family were there for you, but you could feel their constant worry.

dark circles started to form under your eyes from the little to no sleep you were getting, hair almost always a mess since when you did sleep you would wake up late and had to rush out of the door.

now back to laying in your shared bed alone for what felt like the millionth time.

you couldn't take it anymore and why should you?

that lead to you hurriedly packing your bags, already calling your sister and letting her know what was happening and she welcomed you into her home with open arms.

it was late when you arrived, so you quietly moved your stuff into her guest room, her bidding you a goodnight as the door closes. you were left alone again with your thoughts.

phone vibrating in your hand as pete's texts rolled in. asking where you were and if you were okay, you ended up leaving him on read before completely turning off your phone.

you don't owe him an explanation, you didn't owe him jackshit. not for the way he treats you.

flopping down onto the bed, rolling yourself up into the covers not bothering to change.

tears fill your eyes when you think about how different he used to be, just your cute nerdy boyfriend. the one that would facetime you when he was building his new lego set, the one that would drop everything that he had going on to look after you when you were sick.

the same guy who was too shy to ask you out so he wrote little love notes and only up until you caught him in the act, only then was when he confessed his feelings for you.

it all changed when he got bit by that stupid spider, as much as you love spiderman, you loved peter parker more.

you just wanted your boyfriend back. was that too much to ask for?

comments and reblogs are appreciated ♡

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p3terparker · 1 year

Text

𝗽𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝘁 𝗼𝗻 𝗺𝘆 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗱 - 𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: peter and you argue because he loves to spend all of his money on you.

𝘄/𝗰: 0.5k

𝗮/𝗻: sorry for disappearing for a few months… again 😭 i am slowly getting back into writing so please bear with me! i saw my last fic reached over 9000 notes so that really motivated me to write something else for you guys ♡ i’m not so sure how i feel about this but i really do see peter as the type of boyfriend to blow all of his paycheck on you so i just had to write this LOL anyways i hope you all enjoy this!!

“put it on my card” you suddenly hear peter say as he pulled your earphones out, causing you to jump.

you were trying to keep yourself awake while waiting for peter to come through your window after patrolling for the night. to keep yourself occupied, you decided to listen to music and do some online shopping (which consisted of you just putting things in your cart but never actually buying anything). with your back facing your window and your earphones in, you didn’t see or hear peter come inside.

“jesus christ peter, don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“yeah yeah whatever” he says not really caring that he nearly scared the life out of you. “as i was saying before you rudely snapped at me, put your order on my card”

“i literally have over $400 worth of clothes in my cart”

“and?”

“what do you mean and? that’s expensive”

“your point?”

“that’s more than half of your paycheck”

“doesn’t matter. the whole reason why i have a job is to spoil you” he says while taking off his suit and getting comfortable in your bed.

“aww pete, you’re too sweet. but still, no. i don’t want you spending that much money on me”

he hummed an okay which led you to believe he was gonna just drop the conversation.

you were so wrong.

before you know it, he’s shooting a web at your laptop and dragging it over to him.

“NOOOO!” you scream dramatically and tackle him on your bed before he can type in his card information.

“LET ME BUY YOU CLOTHES!” he screams back while trying to push you off of him so he can grab your laptop again.

you quickly snatched your laptop from the bed and ran out of your room as fast as you could.

“GET BACK HERE!” peter shouted while chasing after you to which you just ignored and kept running away.

“you know what, you leave me no choice” he abruptly stops chasing you which causes you to stop in confusion.

suddenly, he jumped and stuck to your roof with his webs, and webbed your laptop over to him. you literally had no way of getting to him now.

“that’s no fair, you’re cheating!” you whined.

he laughed at you standing helplessly below him and finally placed your $450 order on his card.

“here you go” he smiled and jumped down from the roof, handing your laptop back over to you.

before you were about to scold him for spending so much money on you, you heard a knock at your door.

you and peter both looked at each other confused because you weren’t expecting anybody for the night. he walked to the door and opened, revealing the people you were least expecting.

the police.

“hello, we were called over here for a noise complaint. your neighbors reported screaming being heard from your apartment room and they were concerned. is everything alright?”

you did not expect to end your night by explaining to the police that you and your boyfriend were screaming over buying clothes.

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waitimcomingtoo · 2 months

Text

I’ll Cry If I Want To

Pairing: enemies to lovers!Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Synopsis: you get stood up on your birthday and Peter attempts to cheer you up despite your feud

Masterlist

Peter walked into the kitchen in the tower and was immediately greeted by a confetti popper exploding in his face followed by a tender kiss on the forehead from Tony.

“Oh, my. Good morning to me.” Peter smiled at the greeting.

“Damn it, Parker.” Tony groaned. “I thought you were my little girl.”

“Don’t feel bad, daddy. A lot of people confuse Peter for a little girl.” You said as you walked into the kitchen behind Peter. The two of you made eye contact and you gave him an innocent smile while he rolled his eyes at you.

“Ha ha.“ He said sarcastically and then hissed at you like a cat. You gave him a look as you walked over to your dad.

“Happy birthday, baby girl.” Tony said and pulled you into a long hug.

“Thank you, daddy.” You smiled and hugged him back.

“Thank you, daddy.” Peter said in a high pitched voice to mock you. You and Tony looked at him and he quickly cleared his throat.

“Sorry. What I meant to say was, happy birthday. I didn’t know that was today. I mean, I’d been wondering why you looked so old but I assumed it was from your lack of sunscreen use.”

“Nice try. I wear sunscreen everyday.” You replied.

“Really?” He gasped. “Might want to up that SPF a few. You look like a crumbled piece of paper and not in a fun Taylor Swift way.”

“Don’t talk to me about skincare, Rudolf.” You snapped and tapped your nose twice to point out the zit on the tip of Peter nose. He covered it with his hand and narrowed his eyes at you.

“Children, please. No fighting. It stops my moisturizer from sinking in.” Tony sighed and rubbed circles into his skin.

“Sorry, daddy. I just wanted to make sure Peter knew about the giant pimple on his nose in case he was going to see anyone today.” You said as you smiled sweetly at Peter. He discreetly flipped you off by scratching his cheek with his middle finger.

“Any plans for the night, jelly bean?” Tony asked you.

“Nothing crazy. My friends are coming over later for a sleepover.”

“Oh God. Is this gonna be one of those crazy parties where you all get drunk and things get out of hand and you accidentally kill someone and have to dispose of the body together while hijixs ensues?” Peter. whined.

“No, because this isn’t one of the pornos you watch.” You scoffed.

“Pfft. That is not what I watch.” He insisted. “Where would I even find something like that? What would I even type? I’m open to suggestions.”

“Shut up.” You laughed. “You’re such a weirdo. And don’t be hanging around when my friends are here. I already told them you’re a pervert and on the FBI watch list so you don’t have a chance with any of them.”

“I don’t want to date your freakbob friends anyway.” He scoffed. “And to keep it down tonight, will you? I already wake up the birds chirping every morning. I don’t want to hear you birds all night too.”

“I actually came up with a solution for that. What if you killed yourself?” You asked through a smile.

“That’s a great idea. I might give that a whirl today if I’m not busy.” He replied and matched your smile.

“You? Busy?” You laughed. “Please. Busy doing what?”

“Peter and I are gonna be in the lab doing boring stuff with the suits. Adjustments, additions, and what have you.” Tony answered you.

“Oh. Okay. Do you need any help?” You asked.

“I wouldn’t ask you to do that on your birthday, baby girl. Peters got it.” Tony replied, making your smile falter a little.

“Yeah. I’ve got it.” Peter boasted and gave you a smug look. You glared at him for a moment before looking back at your dad.

“I’ll catch you later for some cake, okay honey bun?” Tony told you before kissing your forehead.

“Okay. Bye. Have fun.” You smiled sadly as he left the room.

“You look greasy, by the way.” Peter said once you were alone.

“Like I care what you think. Even your hairline won’t stay with you.” You scoffed and nodded towards his forehead.

“It’s not actually receding, is it?” He asked and touched his hair.

“Maybe your forehead is just getting bigger.” You shrugged and popped a grape in your mouth from the bowl on the table.

“Bite me.” He replied and stopped touching his hair.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You chuckled. “Isn’t that how you got your powers, spider boy?”

“Yup. What do you think would happen if you bite me? Would I be able to a do anything a total bitch can?” He wondered, making you pelt a grape at him. He caught it with ease and popped it into his mouth.

“Watch your mouth before I bring out the peppermint essential oils again.” You warned him.

“You wouldn’t.” He said quietly.

“Try me.” You shrugged. You stared at each other across the kitchen for a moment before Peter gave up.

“You win. Here’s your card. Happy birthday, gaylord.” He said as he handed you a homemade birthday card from his jeans pocket before quickly running out of the room. You rolled your eyes at him but smiled once he was gone and read the card. As annoying as you normally found him, you appreciated that he remembered your birthday. Inside the card was a crude drawing of the two of you fighting next to a drawing of a gift card to Planet Fitness.

Peter strolled into your bedroom around 10 pm when he had grown curious as to why your friends weren’t there yet. It was getting kind of late and you had listed many activities that you had planned to do while Peter begrudgingly listened to you talk earlier in the day. You were still in your room by yourself so he went in and knocked on your door to see what was happening.

“Hey dingus. When are your dumb friends getting here? I need to know when I should jam my ears with scissors.” Peter said as he leaned against your doorway. You were sitting on your bed with your knees draw to your chest and your chin resting on top of them as you stared out the window.

“Do that anyway.” You mumbled and didn’t move from your position.

“I’m going to. I can’t listen to you all yap about when Reputation TV is coming all night. And your friend Stacy’s theories are always way off.” He continued. You still didn’t turn to look at him and his smirk dropped when he heard a sniffle. He frowned and took a step into your room.

“Hello? I knew you were dumb but did you forget how to turn your neck or something?” He said to try to make you laugh. You stayed still and he craned his neck to try to see your face.

“Seriously though, when are they coming?”

“They’re not coming.” You said finally in a horse voice.

“Why? What happened? Did they finally realize you’re an annoying brat whose only redeeming quality is access to daddy’s credit card?” Peter teased in another attempt to make you laugh.

“Something like that.” You mumbled. Peter frowned and finally realized that something was actually wrong. He sat down on your bed and reached his hand out.

“Whats going on? Are you okay?” He asked in a soft voice.

“Just go away.” You said sadly and wiped tears from your face. Peter shot a web at a tissue box on your dresser and pulled it over.

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what happened.” He said and handed you a tissue. You gave him a skeptical look and he held up one hand in defense while waving the tissue in the other like a white flag. You sighed and took the tissue before wiping your eyes.

“They found out it wasn’t a yacht party or at some fancy restaurant or some elitist club in Tribeca so they all cancelled.“ You said as you nervously ripped the tissue up in your hands.

“They cancelled? Why?”

“Because no one wants to come to my party. They want to come to a Stark Industries party with puppies in the gift bags and acrobats suspended from the ceiling and Avengers walking around like party clowns. Just hanging out with me wasn’t cool enough so they all bailed.” You sniffled and turned back to look out the window. Peter raised his hand to place it on your shoulder but then drew it back. He didn’t know if he was who you’d want to comfort you and he didn’t want to push it.

“I’m sorry.” He said instead.

“Like you care.” You laughed sadly and held your knees tighter to your chest.

“I do care.” He insisted. “And I’m very sorry this happened to you tonight.”

“No you’re not.” You scoffed. “You’re probably thrilled to see me like this. This is probably the greatest moment of your dumb life.”

“It’s not.” He said quietly. You finally whipped around to look at Peter and he saw the pain in your red eyes.

“It’s not? Look at me, Peter. I’m pathetic. I’m alone on my birthday because I wasn’t good enough for anyone to hang out with.” You exclaimed. Peter went quiet as you slowly caught your breath. You teased each other all the time but you’d never actually yelled at him before. You wiped your eyes with the tissue before staring at your hands.

“You were right.” You said quietly. “I am just a spoiled brat who people only like because of my connections. And I’m sure you’re anxiously waiting for me to shut up so you can say “I told you so” and prove to me once again that I’m always wrong.”

You and Peter sat in silence for a minute without looking at each other. Peter felt guilty that you were expecting him to kick you while you were down. You were feeling your own guilt for snapping at him when he was trying to be nice.

“I’m not gonna say that.” He said after a beat.

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Just go away.” You said miserably and turned back to the window. Peter opened his mouth to say something but shut it when he couldn’t find the words. He patted your shoulder twice before getting up and leaving your room. You turned to look at the door once he was gone and felt yourself missing his presence. You turned back to the window and stared out at the night sky through your teary eyes and let time pass.

After a while, you started to smell something. You sniffed the air until you recognized it as the scent of a something burning. Out of sheer curiosity, you wrapped a blanket around your shoulders and padded into the kitchen. You found Peter in the kitchen with a lace trimmed pink apron tied around his waist and flour smeared on his cheek. You smiled in surprise and leaned against the wall to watch him for a minute. He was humming to himself a song you didn’t recognize while scrapping a burnt black lump of something into the trash can. When he finally turned around, he jumped when he saw you.

“Jesus. You scared me. But I guess I should’ve known the smell of something baking would have your big back running to the kitchen like I hit the bat signal.”

“Shut up.” You chuckled. “What are you doing in here?”

“Well, your parents went to a movie since they thought your friends would be here. That means no ones home.” Peter began.

“And?” You asked.

“And so I thought we could fulfill a lifelong fantasy of mine and making sweet love to you on the kitchen counter.” He smiled suavely and raised his eyebrows at you.

“Excuse me?” Your jaw dropped as he drummed his fingertips on the counter.

“I’m joking. I’m clearly baking a bake. Or, I tried. I guess 500 degrees was too hot.” He said and looked at the burnt cake in the trash.

“Yeah, that’s a few hundred above what it should be. But why are you baking? We have a chef for that.”

“Because it’s your birthday you miserable bitch. And everyone deserves a cake baked with love. Now do you prefer chocolate or vanilla frosting on your burnt cake?” He asked and held up two cans of frosting. You looked between the two before your eyes settled on him. You hugged your blanket tighter around yourself and shook your head.

“I don’t want your pity.” You said quietly.

“You don’t have it so shut up and grab a spatula before I rescind your choice in the matter and funfetti the fuck out of this cake.” He replied and held out a spatula. You stared at it and felt compelled to take it and join him, but you were still throwing yourself a pity party.

“No.”

“No? Look, I’m trying to cheer your dumb ass up so can you please work with me here?” Peter sighed and looked at you. You stared at him for a while before cracking the slightest smile. He noticed the smile and knew he had succeeded in his plan to cheer you up.

“Fine. But I’m not eating that. That’s what Santa puts in the bad kids stockings. We’ll make a new one. But I’m not touching raw eggs.” You told him and grabbed your dad’s matching pink apron from the drawer.

“I wouldn’t expect you to, Princess.” Peter mumbled under his breath. You glared at him through your lashes as you threw some flour and sugar into a bowl. Peter went to put the butter in but you pushed his hand away.

“It can’t be cold butter or it won’t mix properly. It has to be room temperature.” You explained as you filled a measuring cup with water.

“Oh. Let’s pop it in the microwave then.”

“We can’t do that either. Then the hot butter will scramble the eggs. Do you want little egg bits in your cake?” You asked him as you microwaved the cup of water for a minute.

“Maybe just a little.” Peter replied as he watched you put the butter into a small bowl and then place the bowl on top of the microwaved water.

“There. This will soften the butter without making it hot enough to scramble the eggs.” You explained. He looked between your little invention and you for a minute before smiling.

“Wow. That was really smart.” He said genuinely. “Women really do belong in the kitchen.”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes as you set the temperature to the correct heat on the oven. Peter couldn’t help but watch you over his shoulder as you combined the rest of the dry ingredients and expertly cracked an egg in one hand. He rarely got to see you like this, no makeup and in lounge clothes. And he definitely never saw you upset before. He was used to the perfectly groomed and standoffish version of yourself so this change of pace brought him unexpected joy.

“Move over. That’s not how you mix batter. You need to fold it.” You told him and reminded him of the you he knew. You bumped him with your hip and put your hands over his to help him fold the batter.

“Like laundry?” He asked as his cheeks heated up.

“Like you know what laundry is, Pigpen. And no. A different folding. Like this.” You said and helped him mix the batter until it was the desired consistency.

“Oh wow. That worked really well. I usually just go sicko mode until it turns into goop.” He confessed.

“And how does that work out for you?” You asked him.

“Look in the trash and you’ll find out.” Peter replied and eyed the burnt cake in the garbage can. You playfully rolled your eyes at him and kept helping him fold the batter. Everytime he tried to stir the batter, you gently corrected his hands to fold it instead.

“Why don’t you just do it?” He asked when he started getting frustrated with himself.

“Because you won’t learn if I do it.” You replied in a softer tone. Peter went quiet since you were being unexpectedly nice to him. You let the batter sit for minute once you were satisfied and then poured in into a cake pan.

“There. Thats gonna take about 30 minutes to bake and then it needs to cool before we frost it.” You told him as you shut the oven door.

“Oh, so we have 30 minutes? Then circling back to that making love on the counter idea-“

“Shut it.” You warned him. Peter pretended to zipper his lips and throw away the key. You cracked a smile before starting to clean up the kitchen. Peter wordlessly helped you tidy up and you exchanged a soft smile with each other in the silence of the kitchen.

“What was your worst birthday?” You asked after a long beat of silence.

“Are you talking to me?” Peter asked after looking around.

“Peter, we’re the only ones in the room.”

“Sorry. It’s not like you’ve ever asked me a personal question before. It’s usually “are you stupid?” or “can you go away?” or “do you need a tampon cry baby?” He recalled, making you feel bad for always being so mean to him.

“Oh. Sorry about that.” You said quietly. “I sound a lot meaner than I thought I was.”

“I’m mean too.” Peter shrugged.

“You tease me.” You shook your head. “I’m just cruel.”

“I think we are an equal amount of mean to each other. Don’t let it keep you up at night. I’m sure your chronic yeast infections do that enough.” Peter tried to lighten the mood, but you didn’t crack a smile. You seemed faraway in thought and he was curious as to why.

“Do you think I’m hard to be around?” You asked after a minute. Peter was about to crack another joke until he saw the look on your face. He could tell you needed a friend right now and was filled with determination to be one.

“No. I think those girls you called your “friends” are hard to be around.” He said seriously. “I’ve seen you with them. They’re the mean ones. Them bailing tonight has nothing to do with you. They’re a bunch of shallow jerks who only care about the material things in life. They don’t care about having deep connections with people. They only care about deep pockets on people. I know this isn’t the first time they’ve ditched you. And I know you feel alone even when they are here because you’re never fully included. You think no one notices because you tell stories about your charming adventures together but I see it in your eyes. They make you feel like an afterthought. You act tough and pretend it doesn’t bother you but I know that it does. You shouldn’t hang out with them anymore.”

“Then who am I going to hang out with?” You shrugged sadly. “Without them, I don’t have any friends.”

“Sitting alone is better than sitting at a table where you’re the topic of conversation when you get up.” Peter said simply. You stared at him for a moment before your eyes fell to the floor.

“I just don’t want to be alone.” You said quietly. Peter nodded his head in understanding and let a silence fall between the two of for a while. He was going to say that you wouldn’t be alone because you’d have him, but he didn’t know if you wanted to hear that.

“Can I ask you something?” He asked.

“No.” You said immediately. You made eye contact and you let out a sigh.

“Okay. Go ahead.”

“Why don’t you like me?” He asked without looking into our eyes. You saw that coming and stared at him to try and get a sense of what was going on in his head. He slowly looked back up at you and gave you a weak smile.

“Do you remember that time the power went out in the city due to that Max guy or whatever and we all lit candles and hung out in the tower?”

“Uh oh.” Peter gulped. “You answered my question with another question. That can’t be good.”

“Shut up. Do you remember or not?” You asked and gently kicked his foot with your foot.

“I remember that.” He told you and held your gaze.

“You were new around here. You had just gotten your powers that year so I didn’t really know you yet. I had gone to look for more candles and found you crying on the floor of the linen closet.

“I remember that.” He nodded. “It was all so overwhelming to be here with the whole team. I had never felt so small.”

“I know. I told you I felt like that too sometimes. And then we stayed up for hours talking about every stupid thing we ever worried about and gave each other advice. I think at one point I gave you advice on how much conditioner to use.” You said as you replayed the night in your memory. You had a look on your face that Peter had never seen on you before. It was natural and relaxed and playful, all things he knew to be the opposite of you. It was so rare that the two of you were getting along and he didn’t want to do anything to ruin in.

“A dime sized amount and not on the roots. I still use that advice.” He chuckled. “You were so nice to me that night. You came in and pretended I wasn’t crying so that I wouldn’t be embarrassed. You just sat down with me and started talking ad if we’d always been friends. You quieted all my fears that night. I was initially so embarrassed about it but then I felt a lot better knowing someone had my back no matter how bad I messed up.”

“I always had your back.” You insisted. “Even when I was mean to you. If you were in trouble with my dad, I was always here talking him down and trying to get him to see your side. He sees you through the lense of his child that he doesn’t want hurt but I’ve always seen you as a hero who wants to help. I even got him to give you the suit back when you were 15. And it was my idea to put the warmers in because you told me you’re always cold.”

“Really? You were rooting for me this whole time?” He cracked a smile in surprise.

“Yeah.” You shrugged. “Always.”

“Then how come you act like…” Peter trailed off in fear of insulting you.

“Like what?” You asked, sounding like you already knew what was coming.

“Like you hate me.” He admitted. You felt your face burn in embarrassment and shook your head.

“I don’t hate you.” You said sheepishly.

“You don’t?” He asked in genuine surprise. You looked at him and he could see the guilt in your eyes even in the dim light of the kitchen.

“No. I don’t. I never did.”

“Then how come we don’t get along anymore?” He asked. He had only gone along with all the teasing since you began it, but he had always wondered why it started.

“One of the things we had talked about that night was how my one regret about being homeschooled was never getting to experience a prom. I told you had dreamed of it since I was a little girl and it broke my heart to know I’d never have one. So then you said…” You trailed off, thinking he’d remember what he told you. His face showed no sign of remembering it but he racked his brain anyway.

“I said what?” He asked, breaking your heart just a little more.

“You promised to take me. To yours.” You told him. You and Peter stood in silence for a moment before he burst out laughing. Your sadness immediately hardened into anger at the sound of him laughing at you.

“Wait, you’ve been pissy towards me for the last few years because I broke a promise I made at 15 years old and didn’t take you to a stupid school dance?” Peter asked through a laugh. You glared at him for his reaction and he immediately stopped when he noticed you weren’t laughing too.

“Oh. We’re not laughing?” He asked.

“Why is that funny to you?” You snapped. Peter saw the moment slipping away from him and started to panic.

“Well I was- I was a kid.” He said simply. “I had a huge crush on this girl Liz and we were finally becoming friends so I asked her and she said yes. That was years after I promised you that. I’m sorry but I didn’t remember.”

Peter thought you were going to yell at him and hurl a parade of insults his way, but you just nodded your head and looked down at the ground.

“You’re right. We were just kids. Forget I said anything.” You mumbled and started walking towards the door to leave. Peter knew he had messed up big time and possibly just killed any and all chances of the two of you becoming friends.

“Wait.” He said desperately just as the kitchen timer went off. You stopped walking and watched him haphazardly take the cake out of the oven and throw it in the stove top as he blew on it.

“You should stay. We have to frost it.” He said with a weak smile and an even weaker attempt for you for stay.

“You can’t frost it while it’s hot. It’ll slip right off.” You said without looking at him.

“Oh. I didn’t know that. Well then do you want to talk some more or-“

“I have to go.” You cut him off and swiftly left the kitchen.

You went back to your room to resume the pouting you had started earlier. You felt guilty about walking out on Peter but it had hurt you to know that a promise that had meant a lot to you didn’t even stay in his memory. You stared out the window and sulked as you thought yourself into a deep rut. It didn’t take long for Peter to start making noise in the kitchen, interrupting your thought spiral. You heard things falling out of cabinets followed by Peter swearing. He bumbled around for a while and slowly drove you crazy with all the noise he was making until you couldn’t take it anymore. Just when you were about to text him and tell him the knock it off, you heard the dulcet sounds of “The Dancing Queen” coming from downstairs. You groaned in frustration and got out of bed to go downstairs and see what was happening.

When you got to the living room, Peter was standing there in one of your dad’s suits that hugged him a little too tightly around his muscles. The room looked like it had been decorated by a child with poorly hung streamers, ripped up construction paper to act as confetti, and bunches of webs that Peter had tried to shape into stars and moons. He had dimmed the lights and put a single bowl of chips on the counter, which he proudly stood beside.

“What the hell is this?” You asked him.

“Will you go to prom with me?” He asked with a huge smile.

“No.” You said immediately. “Please kill yourself.”

“I will.” He promised. “After one dance.”

“I’m not dancing with you. I’m not doing any of this.” You told him and turned to leave. You heard a “pst” right before feeling a web hit your back. Before you knew it, Peter tugged on the web and sent you stumbling back into Peter’s arms. He caught you with ease and winked when you landed in his arms. You rolled your eyes at him but felt a smile tugged at your lips.

“Please? Just one dance? Then I’ll let you go and hate me for the rest of your life.” He pleaded as he stared into your eyes. He looked so desperate that you found yourself nodding before you knew what you were agreeing to. He smiled in excitement and twirled you around before slowly swaying to the beat. You begrudgingly sighed and wrapped your arms around his neck while his stayed in a respectable place on your hips. You could feel his eyes on you but you kept yours on the ceiling.

“You can look at me, you know.” He teased, making you begrudgingly look him in the eyes.

“Oh. I almost forgot.” He smiled and pulled something out of his pocket. You looked down and saw a few poorly drawn flowers webbed to a rubber band.

“Your corsage, my lady.” He said as he slipped it onto your wrist.

“This is so stupid.” You laughed but secretly loved the thought he put into everything.

“It’s about to get even more stupid. Wait here.” He asked and quickly ran into the kitchen. He returned with one of Morgan’s plastic tiaras with a big fake gem in the center.

“Every prom needs its queen.” He said as he placed the crown on your head. You made eye contact as he stepped forward to adjust it and you felt your breath catch in your throat from how close he was.

“You didn’t have to do this.” You said quietly.

“Yes I did. I owed you a prom experience. I’m sorry I didn’t take you the first time. And I’m sorry for laughing at you. You just caught me off guard. I have spent many nights thinking of all the things I could have done to make you hate me. I genuinely forgot about that promise. I had no idea this entire time that you hated me because of prom.” He said as the two of you started swaying to the music again. You felt a feeling rise up in your chest, a feeling you hadn’t felt for Peter in many years.

“It wasn’t just the prom.” You admitted before you could think about it.

“It wasn’t? What else did I do? Did I hotbox the elevator with you in it or something?” He asked. “I did that to Wanda once and now she’ll show up in my dreams sometimes and make me pee the bed.”

“That’s disgusting.” You said flatly. “But no. It wasn’t that.”

“Then what?” He wondered.

“It’s stupid. You’ll just laugh again.”

“No I won’t.” He assured you. “Probably. I’ll definitely try really hard not to.

“Come on. Please tell me.” He pleaded and gave your hip a gentle squeeze. “You have to tell me now or I’ll become so annoying so quickly. I’ll be worse than those people who try to describe SNL skits to you and keep explaining even when it’s clearly only funny if you’re watching it.”

“I can’t tell you. It’s dumb anyway. Forget I said anything.” You said and hoped he’d drop it.

“It can’t be that dumb if it stood between us all these years. What, did you have a crush on me or something?” He laughed through his question. You went quiet and Peters eyes went wide.

“Oh shit. Did you have a crush on me?” He asked in a soft voice. You looked down at the ground to avoid having to look him in the eyes now that you were caught.

“I don’t know.” You sighed. “You were my age and had these cool powers and muscles and unexpected sense of humor. I was homeschooled and had swiped to the end of Tinder. You were my only option.”

“Oh. I see. So you only liked me because I was the only choice?” He said through a laugh but it hurt him. You could sense in his voice that you had just hurt his feelings and for once, that wasn’t what you wanted.

“I mean, not the only choice.” You added. “Cap used to hang around a lot more and he’s not the worst looking. But he’s like 500 so I never really had a chance.”

“Why me, then?” He wondered. You finally looked in to his eyes and shrugged a little.

“Because you were kind.” You admitted. “You didn’t need to take on as much as what you did at such a young age but you refused to do the easy stuff. You used to drive my dad crazy with how for you begged for assignments. You were so determined to get out there and save people, it was almost obnoxious. You were never content getting back stolen bikes. You always wanted to protect people from the big things. Even when you were just a kid. I liked that about you. I still do.”

“Still?” He gulped. “Even now?”

Before you could respond, the slow music that was playing ended and “Munch” started to blast from Peter phone. He scrambled to change the song but the moment had already been ruined.

“Sorry about that. I don’t know who put that on my playlist.” He quickly lied.

“It was you.”

“It was me, yeah.” He admitted and hung his head in shame. You stopped dancing and slowly withdrew your arms from him, making his heart sink.

“This was really sweet. Thank you, Peter.” You said genuinely. “I should probably get to bed now. I just want this day to end.”

“But we haven’t frosted the cake yet. It’s still your birthday. You can’t go to bed without any cake.” He said in a desperate attempt to get you to stay.

“I don’t know. It’s late.”

“Come on. It’ll be fast. That’s one of my powers. Spider can frost cake really fast and so can I.” He said and rushed over to the cake. He held it up and gave you a lopsided smile, convincing you to stay.

“Fine. Let’s make it fast.” You agreed and walked over to him. He smiled at you joining him and got out the frosting. He handed you a spatula and you started to frost the cake.

“You don’t have to keep wearing that if you don’t want.” Peter chuckled and went to take your crown off. You quickly swatted his hand and adjusted your crown.

“Back off. It’s mine.” You said and stepped away from him. He chuckled again and you laughed too.

“I really do appreciate everything you did for me tonight. I hope I can make it up to you one day.” You told him.

“You can make it up to me right now if we clear off this counter top and-“

“No.” You cut him off.

“Worth a try.” He mumbled.

“Really, though. You cheered me up tonight and I didn’t think that was possible.”

“In a way, I’m glad your stupid friends cancelled on you. It gave us an opportunity to spend time together. And this was the least I could do for not taking you to my real prom. Which was total buns, by the way. I missed most of it because I was putting my dates dad in jail.”

“Well I’m glad that didn’t happen tonight.” You laughed softly.

“Me either. I wish I took you to the first one. We could have been friends this whole time if I had just remembered my promise.” He sighed.

“It’s fine. It was a long time ago. I’m done moping about it. I’m ready to eat this cake and be friends from now on.”

“I’m ready for that too.” He smiled at you. “Especially the part about us being friends. But also for this cake because it’s kinda giving me a boner from how good it smells.”

“It does smell really good. I can’t even blame your boner. But if that thing even looks at me you’re getting impromptu gender reassignment surgery with this spatula.”

“Ouch.” He chuckled and looked over at you. He didn’t stop looking at you until you felt his eyes on you.

“What?” You laughed shyly.

“I can’t believe you ever liked me. And that this whole time, I had no idea. I am so not cool enough for a girl like you to like.”

“Yeah, well. It wasn’t like I dropped any hints.”

“Maybe not. It just doesn’t feel real. I wouldn’t believe it even if you weren’t always mean to me. You reciprocating my feelings was not something I ever thought would happen.”

“Reciprocating? You liked me too?” You asked as your mouth went dry.

“Are you kidding? You’re my mentors insanely hot and totally off limits daughter. Of course I liked you. Not to mention you’re funny, smart, good with a screwdriver and the apparently my biggest supporter. Though you did it in secret. Make no mistake, birthday girl. I had the biggest crush on you for years. Even when you were being mean to me.”

“Oh. I didn’t know.” You said quietly. You had your back to him as you washed your hands but you could feel his eyes on you. You peaked over your shoulder and sure enough, Peter’s eyes were locked on you. You gulped and turned back around when you heard him walking over to you.

“You know, as mean as your insults were, they were always clever. And you always looked good saying them. How could I not fall for you?” He said as he came up behind you. He was close enough that you could smell his cologne, along with a scent that was just distinctly Peter, making your heart pound in your ears. You turned around and leaned against the counter as you looked into his eyes.

“Well how do you feel now?” You asked with unwavering eye contact.

“I feel like those feelings never left.” He admitted. You had never heard such confidence in his voice and it was just the thing to tip the scales back in his favor.

“Hm. Interesting.” You shrugged and turned back around. It was almost like you could hear the disappointment in the air once you had your back to him again. You decided not to torture him forever and give in to what you both wanted.

“Peter?” You asked and looked over your shoulder at him.

“Yeah?”

“Clear the countertop.”

Tag List 🏷️

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im-sleepdeprived · 4 months

Note

do u think u can do a Peter Parker x reader where reader is gone for a while and has her phone off, and Peter gets super scared only to find out she’s alright?? I love ur work u’re the best xx

'No location found'

pairing: peter parker x reader

a/n: thank you for the request !!!! i had this written, then I decided to rewrite it lmao. I pictured college pete but Im not sure if I specified, also not sure if anyone saw my post abt writing a fic inspired by ‘peter’ by taylor swift but i think im going to start working on that and that its gonna be a mini series👀.... so stay tuned and request something in the meantime !!

warnings: none

masterlist, requests are open !!

“That’s not what I said!”

“Oh? Well, that’s what I heard.”

You two had been going at it for a while now. Peter had missed yet another date you’d both planned. It’d been a while since you both spent time together, and you thought he was finally going to change that. Until he just stood you up again.

You’d thought after moving in together, you’d see him all the time. The opposite was true. He was always out, either on patrol, at Stark Tower, or wherever else his Superhero duties took him. The problem was, that place never seemed to be with you.

“Y/N please-”

“No, Peter! I’m sick of it! I try to be understanding, I really do, I try to give you grace, but every time I do it’s like you just make it worse.” You sighed and ran a hand through your hair, “Honestly at this point, it feels like you don’t even care anymore.”

His face fell. “Come on baby. You can't seriously think that! It was just a mistake, I won't do it again.”

You nodded, “Right. Think I’ve heard that one before.” You turned around and walked towards your shared bedroom.

“Woah, hey. Wait a minute, where’re you going?” His voice was hurt, and you almost felt bad for turning your back.

Shaking your head and looked down at your dress. You’d gotten all dressed up, expecting a nice dinner followed by a walk in the park. You said, “I’m tired, I’m gonna change and get ready for bed. Sorry, but hey, at least now your schedule is freed up,” you gave him a weak smile, “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Y/N you know it’s not like that. Look you’re all dressed up,” he reached for your arm, “we can still go out. Please, let me make it up to you”

Looking into his eyes, it took everything in you to pull away.

“Peter,” you whispered, voice so quiet, yet so full of emotion.

“I don’t want us to fight,” he begged.

'We’re not fighting, not anymore. I just want to be alone.”

“Okay.” He nodded, but still kept his hand on you, reluctant to let go. “I’ll sleep on the couch?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice right now.

He deflated. He wasn’t exactly expecting you to object, but still. It hurt that you wanted to be away from him so bad.

“Good night,” he muttered, watching you walk towards the door with sullen eyes. “I’m right here if you need anything.”

You gave him the tiniest tip of your head, not even bothering to turn around, “Night.”

There was no way he was getting any sleep tonight.

You slept in that day. It was Saturday and you didn’t feel like doing anything. Even after you woke up, you stayed in bed scrolling on your phone, heart pounding a little harder when you saw messages from Peter pop up, before effectively sliding them away.

After a few hours of doomscrolling, you stepped out of the room. You could see a throw blanket neatly folded on the couch, you have no idea if he’d even used a pillow. Your heart thrummed with guilt and you decided that tonight he was definitely sleeping on the bed. Or at the very least, you’d sleep on the couch.

Walking into the kitchen, you noticed a tray with a note sitting atop a covered plate. When you got closer, you saw that the note held a cheesy breakfast pun. So Peter.

I love you a waffle lot! With a bunch of hearts around it. You couldn’t help it, you cracked a smile. He was such a dork. And you loved it.

You heated up your breakfast and had gotten well into eating when your phone started ringing. Was it Peter? You didn’t really want to speak to him, not yet at least. You’d kind of hoped you wouldn’t have to until tonight-

You picked up your phone and almost let out a sigh of relief when you realized it was just one of your friends, Maddie. Then you felt bad for feeling relieved.

You answered the phone. “Hey Mads, how's it going.”

“Hi Y/N! Good! I was just calling to see if you wanted to go out tonight? Listen, before you say no-”

“No that sounds great actually,” you cut her off quickly, eager for an excuse to get out of the house. You’d been canceling plans for way too long in hopes of spending even a moment with Peter, and it seemed as if even your friends had noticed. But no more.

“Really? Great! So there's this raging new club,” she went on, giving you all the details of who was going and who might be there and you listened but barely felt a hint of excitement. You weren’t sure if it was because it was a frat party, and those things rarely appealed to you, or if it was lingering feelings from your argument with Peter. Which reminded you why you’d wanted to go out in the first place.

“We’re gonna pregame at my place though, so stop by here and I’ll take you!” She finished, making you smile. Maddie was always sweet, a little more wild than you, but that’s what made you like her.

“Sure Maddie, thanks for the invite.”

“Of course, can’t wait to see you, I feel like it's been forever since we went out together.”

You let out a small laugh, “I know what you mean. But we’re gonna change that tonight.

You said your goodbyes and hung up. You needed to start getting ready soon, despite you just eating breakfast, you’d stayed in all morning and it was pretty late already.

You got ready quietly, only a playlist you’d turned on droning in the background as you did your hair and makeup. You walked over to the closet to pick out an outfit and felt a little sad. Usually, Peter was here during this part, helping you pick out something, annoying you when he said you looked beautiful in everything.

“Peter! I need real criticism!”

“Well, I can’t help it if my girl looks stunning in everything!”

You picked out a nice outfit you deemed fit for clubbing before grabbing a pair of heels and stepping out of your room. Looking around at the empty apartment you realized you should probably let Peter know you weren’t going to be home tonight. You didn’t feel like calling him though, and if you didn’t want to open his messages from earlier either so you decided to take a page out of his book.

Grabbing a sticky note, you wrote down the briefest of explanations, before sticking it on your fridge and leaving.

He had sent texts saying Good morning!, Do you need anything?, and another explaining he’d be out for a while but he’d made you breakfast, all in hopes of you responding to him. You didn’t, but that wasn’t too shocking to him. It didn’t make it hurt any less though.

He knew he fucked up. He knew he’d disappointed you again, let you down again. He knew he deserved this and more. He should be grateful you weren’t giving him the more. And he was! But he couldn’t help the small selfish part of him that just wished you would let him take you out tonight, or give him something else he could do to make up for it because there was nothing he hated more in the world than when you were mad at him. And he did not want to sleep on the couch again. Sure it was uncomfortable but that was the least of his worries. He hated not sleeping next to you.

That had been his favorite part about the two of you moving into your own place, that he got to hold you every night. After a rough night of patrolling, or working too long on his studies, or a new gadget, he got to go home and hold you, get lost in your touch, and that always made everything better. And it killed him to know you were just down the hall, and he wasn’t with you.

He tried his best to rush everything, trying to get all his work done for the day so he could spend the whole night with you. He was planning a movie night, bingeing all your favorites. He was gonna give you a proper date, soon, but right now, all that mattered was you two spending time together.

On his way home, he stopped at a corner store to grab snacks for the two of you, making sure to get all your favorite ones. He even stopped at a flower shop not far from your apartment to grab you a bouquet and his heart fell when he realized how long it’d been since he’d done this. He definitely deserved the more.

He knocked on the door of your apartment a few times and his heart fell as he realized you were either dead set on ignoring him, or you weren’t home. When he pulled out his keys and let himself in, he realized it was the latter.

Sighing, he set down the bags of snacks and placed the bouquet down as he ran a hand through his hair as he walked around. He entered the kitchen and felt a little better when he saw the dishes he’d used to plate your breakfast were washed and on the drying rack, meaning you’d eaten.

He was about to pull out his phone to see if he’d missed a text from you when he saw something on the fridge.

“Went out. Be home late.”

His brows furrowed as he read. He didn’t know you had plans. Hell, he didn’t even know if you had plans now, your note barely explained anything.

All he could do was wait until you came home to sort everything out.

Peter could handle the silent treatment (barely), but what he couldn't handle, was not knowing if you were safe or not. No. That wouldn’t fly.

He’d sent you a text when he got home, letting you know he got your note and to have fun and be safe.

An hour later, he sent another text. Just as a little check-in. Still no response.

It had been about three hours since he’d gotten back when he noticed that his messages had lost the little mark that indicated they were delivered. Weird.

He tried to call you, he’d refrained from doing so before because he thought he should let you have your space (which was why, he assumed, you’d left in the first place) but it didn’t even ring, he just got sent straight to voicemail.

What made him really start to panic, however, was when he went to check your location, which he felt so stupid for not doing before, and it wouldn’t load. It kept saying ‘no location found’ making his heart beat harder.

This was worse. You were ignoring him, his messages and calls weren’t going through. Something was wrong, was your phone off? Were you mugged? Or even worse-

He stopped himself before he could spiral too hard. That wouldn’t help, right now, he needed to figure out where you were and if you were okay. He knew you weren’t the kind of person who would go out to bars or parties alone. Maybe you went out with a friend? Or maybe you were at a friend's? It was a place to start.

He started calling your friends, people he knew you might go out with, and on the fifth call he finally got answers. Or…something like that.

“Hello?” Maddie yelled into the phone, making Peter pull his phone away.

“Hey Maddie, it’s Peter.”

“Oh yeah, Y/N’s dude,” she slurred.

“Yeah, yeah, Y/N’s dude. Hey listen, is she with you? She went out tonight but she forgot to tell me where, and now my messages aren’t sending.” His pulse was racing. It sounded like Maddie was out, if the blaring music in the background was anything to go off of, and he was desperate to know you were okay.

“Sorry Patrick, what’d you say,” she asked making Peter’s brows furrow. They weren’t exactly friends, but he’d met Maddie a few times. Enough times for her to know his name was not Patrick.

He shook his head, that didn’t matter right now. “Y/N. Is she with you, do you go out together?”

“Oh!” She exclaimed as if she’d just remembered something. “Yeah, she is!”

Peter let out a sigh of relief.

“Or, she was.” He held his breath again.

“What do you mean ‘she was’? Where is she?”

“I dunno, she left I think.” Maddie let out a little hum as if to say ‘too bad!’ and Peter was sure she must be extremely intoxicated, otherwise there was no way she could be so casual about something like this. He could barely keep himself together.

He ran a hand over his face as he tried not to raise his voice. This was getting frustrating. “She left? Where’d she go? Where are you right now?”

“I don’t know…she was bored I think. She was off today. S’shame, she looked so hot.”

His heart clenched when he realized the reason you were off, was because of him. You didn’t have fun, so you left, now he had no idea where you were and it was all his fault.

“Where are you, Maddie?” He repeated.

“That new club on 27th! Get down here Paul, it's so much fun!” She gushed and Peter rolled his eyes. He didn’t have time for this.

He hung up quickly, not bothering to say goodbye before he got up to put his suit on. He couldn't stand the thought of something happening to you because you were upset and distracted because of him. That you weren't even speaking to him.

There was no way he was going to let anything happen to you.

You were walking outside, up and down the sidewalk. You knew it wasn’t the safest decision but you didn’t really care. The club was stuffy, humid, and way too loud. You just needed to breathe, and then you’d go back. Maybe.

You considered hailing a cab and going back home right now. You’d send Maddie a text, but she probably hadn’t noticed you’d left in the first. She’d been having a blast, unlike you, drinking shots and dancing with every guy she felt like. You weren’t sure she remembered you stopping her to tell her you’d be gone for a bit.

On second thought, you were kind of hungry. You hadn’t eaten anything other than Peter’s waffles for you that morning and there was an amazing smell floating from a food cart at the end of the block. You could help yourself to something before going home.

Before you could reach the food cart, you were flying. Or rather, swinging. You knew who it was right away.

Just as fast as he’d snatched you up, Peter put you down on an isolated rooftop, leaving just you and him high above everyone else.

You were about to reprimand him, about to demand an answer as to why he’d just done that, but there wasn’t a chance before he was pulling you into a bone-crushing hug.

“Pete?” Your voice was soft, you sensed there was something wrong and suddenly any anger or annoyance you held, from now or the night before, disappeared.

“You’re okay,” he mumbled as if that was his way of an answer.

Your brows furrowed. “Well…yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He pulled away then, taking off his mask, and you saw just how terrified he looked, scaring you as well. There might’ve even been a little red rimming his eyes, making you wonder if he was holding back tears. “I came home and I brought snacks and flowers and I thought we could spend the rest of the night together but saw your note. So I texted you and I get that you’re mad at me-”

“I’m not,” you said, and you meant it. You weren’t mad at him, especially right now, seeing him all shaken up like this. “But what's wrong?”

“My texts weren’t delivering, my calls went straight to voicemail, and I couldn’t track your location. Y/N, I got so scared something happened and you weren’t talking to me.” He sniffled and your heart broke a little.

You reached into your bag and pulled out your phone, but when you tried to turn it on—dead.

“God sweetheart, never do that to me again. Please.” He looked at you desperately, “Yell at me. Fight with me. But please never ignore me anymore, I can’t stand it.”

“I’m so sorry Petey, I had no idea my phone died. I would’ve said something I swear. I never want you to worry like that.” Your hands went up to hold his face.

He brought a hand to hold your wrist. Gently running his thumb up and down your hand he said, “I always worry about you sweetheart, it’s my job.”

You shook your head, “You worry about all of New York, I don’t need to add on to that.”

“No,” he said quickly, looking offended you’d even say that, “No. Never think like that. You are the most important thing in my life, okay? You’re my first priority and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, that I don’t show that or say it enough.

“But I’m going to do better, I promise. I’m going to make it up to you because I can’t lose you, I need you Y/N.”

You didn’t reply, instead just smashed your lips onto his. His hands slid down to your waist, holding you tight. It was a kiss of forgiveness, of second chances, and new beginnings.

He pulled away first, but not before pressing multiple kisses all around your face. “Heels off baby,” he said as he knelt down and started working on your heel straps, lifting each foot onto his thigh before undoing each one. You didn’t even realize how much they’d been hurting until they were off. “I’m swinging you.” He picked you up swiftly, one arm wrapping itself around your ribs.

You groaned, wrapping your arms around his neck, “Peteyyyy. You know the wind tangles my hair too much.”

“Don’t worry,” he said, leaning over to kiss you on the top of your head, “I’ll be careful, c’mon.”

You move your head to peck his cheek and then hug him tight, “I love you.”

He grinned, pulling you in closer. “I love you more sweetheart.” He leaned back and pressed a quick kiss to your lips. “Hold on tight, Spider Monkey.”

You burst into laughter, “You did not just say that!”

“Oh I totally did,” he gave you the goofiest smile, making you laugh again.

“Ok, just…don’t let me go,” you said as you wrapped your arms tighter around him.

“Never,” he replied, and something in his voice told you he wasn’t just talking about swinging.

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deathbyathousandspiders · 6 months

Note

So imagine a fic based off the song "boy in the bubble" by Alec Benjamin where reader gets in a fight on the way home from school the one time she doesn't walk with Peter. Preferably have her father be Tony Stark and he'd take place of the mother in the story.

first, i wanted to say that i loved writing this and i love song prompts :) i hope you enjoy this !!

second, i want to apologize to the anon who told me i better not disappear for months because oops–

WARNINGS (18+ MDNI) — hurt reader, mentions of blood, mentions of pain/wounding, swearing.

✨masterlist✨.

3.6k.

Typically, stepping into your downtown apartment on a Friday evening would be more exciting for you. It meant that your week of stuck–up students and nerve–wracking tests could be long forgotten. It meant that you had the weekend to live freely from academic cages. At the beginning of that day, you would’ve thought today would be like any other Friday; with Peter accompanying you and your father for dinner like every week.

But Peter didn’t walk back with you.

Your tired limbs ripped from the floor with every step, hobbling out of the elevator with as much grace as you had room to carry. That room was slim, making space for the array of bruises and blood tainting your clothing. You carried the last bit of dignity you could, and tried to replace the sinister words spat at you from your attacker:

“What a weak, pathetic excuse for a Stark.”

See, till now, you’d been grateful to be excused from the attention and popularity that accompanied your title. You didn’t care for followers or anything that catered to your birthright. Your father was your best friend, and you were lucky to be a Stark just to have his light in your life. However, there were some who weren’t like your classmates or peers — people who hated the Stark name, and wouldn’t rest until the family name died at their hand.

Tonight, you’d met the first of who knows how many. The thought alone sent a serpent–like shiver down your body.

And Peter wasn’t with you.

The fumes of Tony Stark’s cooking filled your senses as you limped further into your family room. You consciously knew you were late for dinner, but the pain throbbing throughout your body put that knowledge on the back burner. The sunset was just beyond the apartment windows, and it made you wonder whether Peter had beaten you to your own house or not. It was 6:48 after all, he was bound to be there.

You’d nearly forgotten that the subtle ping of the elevator doors announced your arrival. You heard your dad set down his spatula. “You kids are late.” He greeted, hollering from the kitchen. “I hope you two didn’t stop for Delmar’s on your way back!” You processed the undertones as your knees gave out, left hand pressing into the top of the sofa back.

White knuckles gripped onto your couch as you tried to gain your balance, wincing through gritted teeth. Your right arm remained hugging your abdomen, palm pressed onto a sore–spot on your torso. Every fiber in your body ached for some sense of relief. To sit down. You were a bit too stubborn for your own liking, trying to hike up the steps and get to your room without being spotted—

“Jesus Christ!” Your father cried from the archway of the dining room. You heard his hurried steps across the hard–wood flooring, almost too nervous to meet his eyes. He made his way over quickly, and the first thing you noticed through your periphery was the ‘kiss the cook’ apron he kept tied around his waistline. “Kid, what the hell happened?” Your dad crouched down beside you, finally locking eyes with you.

The cold air hitting your eyes made you realize just how quick the tears were welling. You swallowed the lump in your throat, whether it was sobs or embarrassment or dried blood from thrown punches. “I was jumped.” Your bottom lip trembled a bit before you mustered the words out.

Your dad scanned over your body, eying just how tattered your clothes were, and how much blood painted your outfit. His eyes glistened with a parental look— a look shimmering with something mixed of worry and sadness and anguish and apology. “And Peter wasn’t with you?”

That confirmed that your best friend, in fact, had not beaten you to your apartment.

And for some reason, it made things all the more worse. Your jaw clenched a bit, both of concern and frustration. Disappointment nagged at the corners of your lips as you shook your head. “No, he said he’d meet me here later.” Your imagination got the best of you, replaying your evening but if Peter actually had been with you. The thought alone made you shutter. “But it was probably for the best.”

“Did he say what he was doing?” The look in his eyes said something that he wasn’t communicating. They said something unspoken that made you feel like there were things that you weren’t being told.

You ignored it, feeling a surge of pain in your abdomen. A quiet hiss fought its way up your throat. “He didn’t. But it’s fine.” No, it wasn’t. “Peter can’t throw a punch to save his life.”

A laugh actually left your father’s lips. “You’d be surprised.” He muttered, his tone speaking the same tongue that his eyes were. There was definitely something that you didn’t know, but your intuition couldn’t place its finger on what.

It wasn’t your fault that you were oblivious to your best friend’s vigilante status. You were kept in the dark about what web–slinging activities Peter Parker kept behind closed doors. Tony and Peter kept it secret that you were best friends with Spider–Man. They hadn’t let the news slip yet, and Tony wasn’t about to. They both agreed it was in your best interest to keep you safe.

Apparently, their efforts weren’t enough.

Your eyebrow rose, trying to cut through the bullshit. “Are you kidding, Dad?” You asked, maintaining eye contact as your father rose from his crouched position beside you. “It’s Peter Parker we’re talking about here. He wouldn’t even kill a fly.”

Tony’s hands creased his hips, shoulders shrugging gently with his response. “I don’t know, hon. He told me May had him take Karate years back.” He didn’t leave time for a response as his eyes trailed back down to the developing bruises along your arms. Seeing the crusting crimson on his daughter’s body was a sight that made him lose his appetite. “I’ll go grab my medical kit. You’re lucky that Pepper taught me a thing or two before she got promoted.”

The room fell quiet as Tony put pause on dinner and soon rushed back over with a first–aid kit. You didn’t want to stain any furniture, so you managed to sit on a wooden coffee table until you were given further instruction.

It didn’t take long before your mind wandered off to worry about Peter, and what could be keeping him so long. He did tell you before you’d parted ways that he’d join you guys for dinner? Right? You swore that he told you he’d be there by 6:30, and even you were late. Thinking back to the details made you recall some harsh memories. Your wounds throbbed at the recollection of how they came to be, and the blood that was shed, and the words that were spat…

“What a weak, pathetic excuse for a Stark—”

“We should call Bruce.” Your dad’s voice of concern and reason brought you back to the moment. All you could do was stare. You hadn’t noticed that he’d started to examine your wounds, or just how defeated and pained for you he was.

The look made your stomach twist at the insults your own self–critic threw back at you.

Before you knew it, you were standing up, choking back a wince, fighting against yourself. “No! No– it’s just a few scratches. It’s fine.” Was it? Even though the pain was searing, and you wobbled as you stepped to the bathroom. Clearly your father was overreacting. He had to be. You weren’t weak.

Tony followed your footsteps, treading close behind in case you were to trip. “Hon, I’m serious! You look like you went through a paper shredder!”

You looked at him with a grimace, disbelief shone in your eyes. Almost as if he were calling you pathetic. “Don’t make it so intense! I’m sure it’s—” You halted. Everything froze. The air sucked right back into your lungs at the sight of your bloodied figure in the mirror. Flicking on the light, you couldn’t breathe.

The color palette that covered your body could’ve painted an entire canvas worth; the shirt you wore was hanging onto your shoulders with two threads and a miracle, not to mention the slashes at the thighs of your jeans. You’d nearly forgotten that your attacker had such a thick knife until you saw it— saw yourself. A shiver snaked down the length of your spine, leaving a splintering chill behind it.

It wasn’t until Tony turned off the bathroom light that you’d realized you were staring at yourself. He carefully grabbed your hand, leading you back into the living room. “We don’t have to call Bruce, but can I at least clean you up a bit?”

You didn’t have the words to respond to him. A nod was all you could muster before he sat you back down at the coffee table. “Should I– uh.. Should I shower first?”

Tony shook his head beside you. “Until I figure out if you need stitching, no.” He went to investigate the damage, but hesitated, trying to navigate an approach. “Sweetheart? You decent enough to take your shirt off? I could grab you a blanket if that would help–”

But before your dad finished his thought, you went to try and peel off your shirt. It was a lot more difficult than you thought. Painful, too. You were cold and hot and sweaty and sticky and pins and needles dug their way into your limbs each time they moved. You were grateful your dad didn’t even pause before assisting you. He grabbed his medical scissors, snipping off the sleeves of your top.

You and your dad were really comfortable with one another, so this didn’t bother you. You were more blinded by the burns and the harshness to each ache and blemish coating your limbs and torso. Daggers upon daggers of pins and needles sunk into your flesh, yet it hurt you the most to know that you had to present yourself so battered and bruised to your dad. It made you feel so…useless. So…pathetic.

A minute of silence passed, filled with nothing but pity and the sear in your eyes, holding back tears. You wanted to be strong. You needed to be strong. Showing weakness would mean that your attacker was right. Your throat burned, swallowing hard and pushing back your damaged narrative. The feeling of how feeble you felt.

The subtle ping from the elevator made your blood run cold. Your head snapped up to look at who entered the apartment, eyes wide and teary when they met the pair of Peter Parker. And the second he jogged out of the elevator, he stopped dead in his tracks. He gasped quietly, staring back at you with the same gaping eyes.

You didn’t see the way Tony glared at Peter from beside you, but you felt the way he’d stopped inspecting you. Peter walked closer, taking cautious steps as he minimized the distance. “What happened?” His voice was gentle, perhaps because he noticed the tears coating your cheeks.

Wiping your eyes, you realized your hands were trembling. Your whole body shook from the endured trauma, and you shivered like you were in the midst of a blizzard. Had you been shaking that whole time? You didn’t have time to overthink it. You felt like you were being whisked away into a whirlwind of panic.

Tony stood up, his expression crossed with some unspoken irritation. “I need to finish dinner.” His words were short. “Kid, could you help patch her up? She mainly just needs disinfectant.” There was no room for response from Peter before your father started walking. You didn’t see him leave, but you felt the gentle kiss he placed on your head before he left one final comment with Peter:

“And you and I are going to have a talk later.”

You weren’t sure what was going on with the two. Quite frankly, you weren’t sure what was going on in general. Shaking like this, being emotional like this, it was far from anything you were used to.

It felt like you were being violated, forced open, naked— and that wasn’t just because you were without a shirt. You felt exposed, and you couldn’t hide anymore. There was nowhere you could go and nothing you could do to shield from the fact that you were vulnerable right now.

Peter sat in front of you, kneeling so that you could see him. So that he could see you. “Hey..” His voice got soft, gentler, and somehow it broke you. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth to try and stop the way it shuttered. Metal lingered on your tongue and your throat felt hollow and thick with the cries you held back. But Peter was your best friend, and he knew you.

He knew how stubborn you were with your own emotions, and how guarded you kept yourself from showing that part to other people. He knew that you couldn’t hide forever, either. And maybe he’d figured that out when his right hand went to cradle your face, and the tears finally washed away the walls you’d been keeping up.

Somehow seeing him safe was your undoing. The downfall of the avalanche you’d been hobbling in attempt to support, but you couldn’t seal the dam anymore. The relief of knowing that Peter was unharmed, the ease to all your worries, it made you forget why you’d been trying to stop your tears in the first place.

Your body broke out into violent shivers the second you let it, and your shoulders shook with every sob. Peter didn’t say anything. He merely took you into his arms and held you to him, careful not to press against any wound. It terrified you to think about what would’ve happened had Peter walked home with you, unbeknownst to you that he probably would’ve protected you from any of this happening in the first place.

It took you a minute or two to cry it out before Peter set you back on the coffee table. It seemed effortless to pick you up, and that made you realize just how strong he was. Your dad was right, Peter did surprise you.

Peter knew exactly how to mend these kinds of wounds, too. Where did he learn? It might always be a mystery. Still, it came in handy now. He draped his zip–up jacket over your shoulders, before dabbing a cloth of rubbing alcohol against every cut on your torso. He was so focused. Tensed jaw and creased eyebrow, not wavering for a second until you gained the courage to ask him a question. You took a shaky breath.

“Peter?” You murmured, immediately grabbing his attention. Peter glanced at you, the cold glisten in his focused stare began to thaw when he did. He took a breath, perhaps needing to be broken from the train of thought he’d started to entertain. With his attention, you took another breath, nervous.

Your fingers gripped the edge of the coffee table with white knuckles. If you’d been any stronger, maybe you’d broken the table, or even your fingers. “Do you.. think I’m–” You had to suck in another chunk of air just to muster out that taunting, despicable word. “Weak?” Even in your efforts to say it straight, your voice broke in an instant.

Without a beat, his eyes met yours again and he stopped everything he was doing. “Weak?” He repeated back. “No.” The word was so instantly rejected, you’d almost felt stupid bringing it up in the first place. “You’re so far from weak, Y/N. You’re one of the strongest people I know.”

Your hands went to hide your face, too ashamed of how quickly you broke before him. From the solitude behind your fingers, you couldn’t see the way Peter also broke at the words. He wasn’t sobbing as you were, but he couldn’t help the sulking of his shoulders. Peter truly blamed himself for this. Setting down the rag, gently wrapping his fingers around your wrists. “Anyone who thinks you’re weak is blind to who you are. That, or they’re fucking stupid.” He spoke softly, pulling your hands from your face.

“You’re the most courageous person. The amount of bullshit you put up with, and the reporters you call out– Fuck, I can’t even imagine walking away from a fight like you did tonight..” His words of endearment warmed your heart. “You’ve seen the unthinkable, are still going, and you think you’re weak?” He shook his head. “Impossible.”

You and Peter stared for a beat or two before he stood up, carefully helping you to your feet. “I think you’re all set to shower. Do you want me to walk you upstairs?”

Taking a breath, you took Peter’s words to heart. You got this. “I think I’ll be okay.” Ignoring the shakiness in your voice, you took paces to the stairwell. “If I’m not back in thirty, you have permission to make sure I didn’t pass out.”

Peter cracked a small smile at you, “Noted. Text me if you need anything!” He added the offer, to which he saw you nod to, and he caught a glimpse of your timid smile. He knew you’d be okay, but it still didn’t shake the weight of how to blame he was. The sound of Tony clearing his throat from the kitchen only seemed to remind him. And with a second clearing of his throat, Peter realized that Tony was trying to communicate.

Walking into the kitchen, Peter saw Tony leaned back against the counter, arms crossed with a cold stare. “Mister Stark, I–”

“Where the hell were you tonight?”

The tone changed the entire atmosphere. No amount of savory fragrances from the cuisine could take away from the fact that Peter was in trouble.

Peter’s shoulders squared at the intensity carried with Tony’s aggravation. He took a breath, pausing in the doorway. “Sir, there was an armed–”

Tony’s fist met the marble counter in a startle. “Damn it, Pete!” Kid couldn’t get a word in if he tried. “Damn it, you had one job!” His index finger went up to emphasize his point.

“What was I supposed to do??” Peter felt like he was fighting a losing battle. “I had no idea what was going to happen!” In the midst of his hushed defense, his voice broke a bit from the weight of his guilt. “Mister Stark.. I think it’s time we tell her.”

A scoff was what Peter was met with. A rush of air caught on Tony’s disbelief, throat, and dismissal. “We’d tell Y/N what? That you’re Spider–Man? That we’ve been lying for this long?”

It was a tough call, and Peter knew that. Peter also knew that Tony couldn’t keep this shit up any longer than he could. “She deserves to know!” He planned to plead his case. “Whoever attacked her tonight planned this. It wasn’t by chance, she was targeted–”

“You don’t know that—”

“And you don’t either!” Peter wasn’t about to get cut off again. He let out some of the steam he’d began to bottle. “The way she’s acting.. Something’s off about what happened. And I think she deserves to know why I wasn’t there to defend her tonight.”

As much as the two had raised their voices, or grown to anger, they let the reality of the evening sink into the space between them. The thickened air sat within the walls as they both took a breath and collected themselves. Tony’s expression melted, and he finally reached over to turn off the stove.

Dinner was almost ready.

The back of Tony’s hips met the marble countertop behind him, supporting his weight as he crossed his arms, looking at Peter sympathetically. “Look, kid. I don’t blame you for what happened tonight.”

A weight or two instantly lifted from Peter’s guilty–conscious. “I know.” He lied.

Tony’s lips curled ever so slightly at the hasty quip. “As much as I agree with your conspiracy theories on Y/N’s attacker, I don’t know if coming clean about everything will solve this.”

There was a subtle sinking to Peter’s mending optimism. “Then when do you plan to tell her?”

A pause. Tony sighed, releasing a breath he’d been holding since Peter’s spider bite. “I don’t know..” Genuinity. Tony’s paternal protocol kicked in, and he wasn’t sure how to navigate it entirely.

On the one hand, his daughter deserved to know the truth. You deserved to know the truth. His wisdom and knowledge was such a curse when it came to fatherhood, because while being honest was what his role as a father called for, logic came right back to remind him of just how many lies were piled on top of each other. What if there was no coming back from this?

Tony shrugged, appearing more open to the idea of being truthful. “I’ll tell you what.” He started, “You tell me how you’d suggest telling Y/N you’re Spider–Man, and I’ll consider it–”

“Peter’s what?”

Ice. The room turned to ice too quickly, both Tony and Peter snapping their heads to look at you in the doorway. They hadn’t noticed you’d been listening. You’d been standing there for who knows how long, considering that you hadn’t even showered yet.

Both of the men in front of you exchanged glances of sheer panic before Tony cleared his throat to get your attention. He held up the frying pan, looking you dead in the eyes with the most false–confidence you’d ever seen your father carry.

“Dinner’s ready.” His voice cracked.

Yeah, there was absolutely no coming back from this.

468 notes · View notes

presleyluvschris · 1 year

Text

chilly

pairing(s): mcu peter parker x sick!fem!reader

desc basically im obsessed with sick!fics. posted one a while back for another fandom 🤭 just peter worried.

a/n holy shit im so sorry i haven't been posting lately my loves. my house is currently being sold and i've been running ramped. i wrote this after i had time off work. hope you enjoy.

warnings language, fluff, grammar. (please message me if i missed any!)

@cozytober2023

requests | open 💌 masterlist

It was only October 7th and you we're already a stuffy snotty sticky mess from the sudden drop of temperature outside.

It was cold outside, but the light from your wooden bedroom windows sunbathed the room, brightening your pale complexion.

tissues were plastered all over your messy bed and your phone was constantly dinging with messages from your group chat. you didn't show up to work, or to school that day, and by the looks of your random naps and binge watches on Netflix, you had forgot to call anyone to let them know you couldn't make it, including your boyfriend peter.

you kept coughing which made your head pulsate more as you wrapped your blanket around you and curled into it, squirming and desperately trying to get comfortable.

he was always super protective of you. sometimes it was really annoying but it felt good to know he was always thinking of you. and thats probably an understatement.

you felt sick. that might've been a blunt word, but everytime you tried to swallow your own spit it hurt like hell and you felt your head beating in pain like a heart would pump blood.

you groan and pull your comforter back over your head before you flutter your eyes closed and try to get your mind off the pain in your throat. It burned everytime you breathed which made you hiss uncomfortably. You eventually get yourself to fall asleep (after way too many doses of NyQuil) with half of your body immersed in your pillow.

you rested softly for a few hours before you woke to the sound of peter climbing through your window. you're eyes could barely adjust to the light as your tried to look up to see who it was, but your body was too tired to try and shake yourself up.

he rolled on the floor after falling from your complicated window sill but quickly got up with a groan.

he puffs, dusting him self off as he looks around the room for his girl.

"love?" peter looked around curiously to find you laying in your bed.

he carefully knelt down and shook you slightly as you woke up again with a jump.

you cough. "jesus, peter. you scared the shit out of me." you shift your arms behind you to prop yourself up, as he tucks a piece of your hair that fell back behind your ear.

"sorry," he laughs. "i just got really worried. I came as soon as I could. are you alright? why weren't you at school? or work- MJ said you didn't come."

his smile turns into a concerned perplexed look.

"uh", you sit up and rub your eye, coughing.

he noticed you sweating, and your puffy red eyes and a nose rubbed red.

"are you feeling okay?" his eyes and face look soft for you as his lip pouted a little.

he comes closer to you, kneeling down as he rests his hand on your forehead gently. you press your lips together and sniffle.

"pete, im fine."

"but- you're burning up!" he adds, as you look away from him.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier? i could've taken school off or-"

"peter." you look up.

"no." you croak, "i would never let you do that."

He puffs his cheeks and breathes out as he sits with you in your bed. You look in your boyfriends eyes as he turns his head to examine you.

"you don't look well, sweets." he frowns as he kisses the top of your forehead.

"i know", you say as you sniffle and your face starts to tickle a little.

he hands you a tissue as you sneeze in your sleeves. "bless you." he rests his tongue to the side of his mouth.

spidey senses.

"you okay?" he looks at you.

"mhm", you purse your lips.

you blow your nose as he looks at your face again.

"you gonna let me take care of you?" he holds his breath in worry.

you shake your head. "no."

he frowns again. "but you're sick! you're my girlfriend I can't just leave you here." He seems stressed, folding his his hands on your arms.

you cough and add, "i don't want you to get sick. plus, you have patrol tonight."

he shakes his head. "no way, im staying."

"No." you look in his eyes.

"Yes." he nods.

"No, peter."

"Yes, y/n." he crosses his arms.

you sigh.

"im staying right here." He says determinedly as he wraps his arms around you from behind and rests his chin on your shoulder. worry chilled up his spine for you.

"okay," you give up. "its cold anyway." you couldn't resist him. you didn't want him to patrol in the this insane cold weather anyways.

you pull a sweatshirt over your head.

"movie?" we whispers. "i'll get you snacks." he rubs your back softly.

you sweat a little and try to swallow.

you smile a little, "okay."

coughing, he rubs your arm. "are you okay?" he looks at you worriedly.

"im fine, my body just hurts."

he pulls you in a hug before kissing your head and leaving the room to go to the kitchen.

he gets back almost instantly with a bag of candy and popcorn, setting it on the bed and a mug of hot tea for your throat on the bedside table.

"can i get you anything else?" he looked sad.

your heart warmed and hurt at the same time.

"no, im okay."

he places a bowl of soup down next to the mug as you lean over to take it and sip it gently.

he lays in your bed as you open your laptop to the same crime documentary.

"again?" he groans, shifting his neck up against the pillow as he scrunches his face, looking at the ceiling.

as you giggle he looks up to see your smile which made his stomach hurt.

"yes, again." you try to hold back your lips from curling into a laugh.

he sighs and clicks the play button on your computer.

you rest your head on his chest, snuggling into him as he lays his arm around you, intertwining your hand into his.

"love you." he whispers in your hair softly, tucking a kiss to the back of your head.

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ifortom · 3 months

Text

Shrike - T.H.

Pairing: Royal Guard!Tom x Princess!Reader

Summary: A princess and a royal guard live a forbidden romance, hiding their feelings from the world. As they try to keep their love a secret, challenges and moral dilemmas test the strength of their relationship. Will true love triumph over conventions and royal expectations?

W/A: 5k

A/N: I know it's been a while and I'm about to post other stories but this one popped into my head and I had to get it out. Hope you like it.

"Do you ever think about what life would be like for us if things were different?"

"Honestly?" He stares at you. "No. Despite everything, I'm satisfied with what we have."

He mocks. "You mean doing everything in secret? Not being able to touch you in public? Or going out on dates? Not being able to talk about you with others?"

"I meant having our most intimate moments just for the two of us. Memories that will be ours alone." You say, intertwining your fingers with his. "Don't you find dates in the garden under the moonlight extremely romantic?"

"It would be if I weren't worrying about what might happen if they found out."

You move closer and settle into his lap, legs around his waist.

"Tommy, can we enjoy what we are experiencing now? At this moment I only see you and me. No one else."

His hands go to your waist, holding you close, while yours run through his hair.

"I can't imagine myself without you." He says with his mouth next to yours, breaths mixing and becoming one.

"Then don't." Slowly, you start moving your body, his hands on your waist guiding your movements. "I'm right here." And your mouths collide as you push him until he is lying completely on the blanket in the grass.

Your mouth travels to his neck, leaving marks along the way. Your hands now unbutton each button on his shirt. You feel his heavy breathing, his heart racing.

And you get lost in each other.

..............

"Why that face, mate? You seem too happy. What happened?" Harrison asked as they walked side by side to the meeting room.

"Nothing happened, what are you saying?"

"Nothing? Come on, Tom. We're heading toward a scolding for not keeping full guard time and you've got a smile on your face."

"No, I don't."

"Are you kidding me? I've known you since you were in diapers, you can't hide much from me" He snapped his fingers. "I bet you were with someone. Did you get laid?"

"Shut up, Haz."

"Ha! So that's it! Who was it? Who had the displeasure of spending the night with you?"

"Harisson…"

"Who was it? What was she like? Was it good?"

"Mate!”

"Or was she bad, that's why you don't want to talk? Did you go all the way?"

"For the love of God, Harrison, shut the fuck up." Tom stopped abruptly.

Harrison raised his arms in surrender.

"Tommy boy... I see you sneaking out at night, not to mention the times you ask me to change shifts." He rubs one of his hands over his face. "And I give you all my support but I would like to know why you have been risking your job, you know?"

Tom looked to the side, clenching his jaw.

"You're my friend, and I'm glad you seem happier too. I'm sorry I asked."

"I can't talk about it.” Tom says in a barely audible whisper. "I just…I can't."

"OK no problem." Harrison says turning his back to Tom and continuing down the path.

"Haz, I really can't, I'm sorry." Tom said following him.

"You don't have to apologize, Tom. And you don't even owe me an excuse. You do your thing and you tell me when you're ready. Just… be careful."

“It's not just about me. There’s other people… and I…”

"Gentlemen!" Tom and Harrison stopped and bowed before the queen's presence. “Why are they still here? The king is waiting for you."

"We are on our way, Your Majesty." Tom said.

"You will be part of a very special moment, but I will let the king do the honors of the news." She says, clasping her hands in front of her body. "Now go, we'll be there in a few minutes too."

And at that moment, Tom notices the presence of another person besides the queen and her faithful lady.

It was very rare for you not to express any kind of reaction to his presence. Tom was always greeted with a tempting look and a small smile. Carefully so that no one would notice that this small gesture meant more than just a small, polite greeting.

And Tom knew you well enough to understand that you weren't okay. Something serious happened or was about to happen that worried you.

Tom and Harrison bowed as the queen led the way towards the grand doors of the castle's main hall. You followed your mother's footsteps slowly, the two guards, the king's confidants, followed close behind.

Several thoughts were floating through his head at that moment. Did you regret it? Why did you go so far? Why did he get carried away so easily?

He should have stopped.

He should have stopped the moment you started seeing each other in secret. He should have stopped before the first kiss.

He should have stopped when he realized his feelings were bigger than just attraction. He should have stopped before realizing he loved you.

The hall doors opened for them. The king was sitting in one of the resting chairs in the center of the room. The small coffee table contained cups that released hot steam, two bodies rose from the padded sofa that surrounded it.

It was funny to think that this same environment could host more than a hundred people dancing and twirling in fancy clothes, and now it looked like any other room where people gathered to gossip and discuss mundane matters.

"Finally, my ladies. We have waited long for you." The king said stretching out his hand, calling the ladies to come closer to them. Tom and Harrison stopped a few feet away from the center, as did the queen's lady-in-waiting who stood between them.

"We're sorry, My King. We were just finishing getting ready. Y/N needed to prepare properly." The queen said, resting her hands on your back and positioning you in front.

"Not that it's really necessary. The princess is very beautiful." A sweet, unfamiliar female voice said as she bowed to Y/N who returned the gesture. The man next to the woman did the same. "It's a pleasure to meet you Your Highness."

The king finally looked beyond the two most beloved ladies of his court.

"Behold, my faithful squires. Come closer." The two guards approached and bowed before the king and his guests. "These are the lord and lady of Wintershire."

"Your Majesty!"

"These are Harrison and Thomas. They are my two best guards and accompany me in everything related to the kingdom." The king looked thoughtful and melancholy. "Thomas is the son of the great Holland. My best friend and the greatest of my warriors."

"Of course, I'm sorry for your loss." The unknown man said and Tom just nodded.

"It was such a loss, we all miss him." The king continued, his gaze fixed on Tom. "I'm glad Thomas followed in his father's footsteps, after all he grew up here and knows this place like no one else."

"We are grateful for your service, Thomas. You and Harrison are important at this time." The queen said.

"Good, now that everyone is here we can move on." The king announced, as Thomas and Harrison returned to where they were before, you and your mother sat down next to the family matriarch. You were facing him and Tom noticed your resistance to meeting his eyes, not even for a small second.

"Not everyone, Chris isn't here yet. I apologize for that, Your Majesty." The lord said.

"Don't worry, he was in the barn, getting to know his surroundings. I heard he's great at riding." The king pointed.

"Ah, yes! Our little Chris is almost like an athlete. He likes to play sports and ride. We raised him to be active as well as being very intelligent and helpful." The woman said.

"I'm sure he'll make a great husband." The queen said, resting her hands on yours that were in your lap. "A good man capable of taking care of a woman, who likes to take risks and is intelligent."

The world seemed to have stopped and Tom's breathing became quick and shallow. His hands, which were behind his back, wrapped around each other in an attempt to stabilize himself to what he had just heard. Husband. That was what this special moment was all about. A marriage agreement.

"I'm sure Chris will make the princess very happy. He's young and good. He still has a lot of life ahead of him." The man said. "I know we're his parents, but we raised him for this."

This means that this marriage agreement had existed for a long time. Even before anything starts between you. You had always been promised to someone and yet you surrendered to Tom and the fantasy you created together.

Tom’s eyes were fixed on you and your posture. But you refused to look up from your own hands.

"Of course, we believe so. But it is important that we know that this agreement is also political. Y/N in a few years will take the throne and we need a companion who will support her." The king interfered. "This is for the good of the kingdom."

"Yes, Your Majesty. We believe in the future of the kingdom just as we believe in Your Highness and the decisions she will make."

"It's important that they have heirs. The lineage needs to continue. We are happy to have been gifted with our sweet Y/N but the ideal is more than two children." The queen said and once again, Tom's heart screamed asking to be ripped out of his chest so he wouldn't feel anything anymore.

"Chris is a healthy young man and has regular medical care, I believe this will not be a problem." The lord said.

You, who hadn't said anything until now, finally slowly looked up. Your eyes focused on Tom and he noticed the sadness within them.

“I’m happy for what we’re going to build.” You said, looking at the couple sitting in front of you. "For the kingdom…"

The hall doors opened again and a man walked towards them.

"I'm sorry I'm late, I got a little lost on the way." He said as he bowed and sat down next to the couple.

"I'm glad you decided to join us." The king said using a sterner tone, one that Tom had heard many times.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty. The castle is very beautiful and large, I got lost while looking at the paintings in the corridors."

"Let's stop it from happening again." The queen intervened. "I think we can end it here. Y/N, why don't you take Christopher to see our indoor garden?"

"That's a great idea. Harrison will accompany you." Tom didn't understand why the king didn't order him to come along but he wouldn't argue about it. Mainly due to the fact that he wasn't sure he could take a step without falling.

Christopher stood up and extended his hand towards you, which you delicately accepted. You walked to the door together, passing Tom. Harrison following you a few feet away.

The king got up, and walked to where Tom was.

"You're dismissed for today, Thomas. I want you to rest." He said resting his hand on Tom's arm.

And in that moment, Tom realized that the king knew. He knew something was going on between one of his guards and his sweet, delicate daughter.

And he was sorry for what had just happened. What he caused. Both to his own daughter and to the young man he had seen grow up to be a man.

Without a word, Tom turned and left the room. He knew how disrespectful the gesture had been, but nothing was going through his mind at that moment.

It was stupid to think that at some point your relationship would become real. Real to the world. Not just hidden and in the dark.

He knew the fantasy would come to an end, but now it all seemed so real.

He doesn't remember the path he took to his quarters. Tom let it be taken on automatic. The years spent in that same place and the route traveled so many times were already engraved in his memory.

Tom let himself take a deep breath when he was in his comfort space. His own room. A bad idea because everything inside reminded him of you.

From the sheets on the bed you've rolled around in together so many times to the desk in the corner with scribbled pieces of paper and books waiting to be finished.

Just like in his heart, you were present in any physical place he looked.

...

Your steps were silent and light. The floor was cold in direct contact with your bare feet. You never walked through this wing of the castle without telling Tom that you were on your way.

He always made sure the hallways were empty and no one accidentally bumped into you.

But the situation required a drastic measure and you hadn't seen Tom since the conversation in the main hall. It was not possible to communicate with him at any time during the day. And a lot needed to be said and clarified between you.

When you arrive in front of the familiar door, you hesitate. Your hand rises and closes into a fist, ready to make Tom aware of your presence.

Slowly, your hand comes into contact with the wood. Two beats with a long interval between them. He will know it's you.

It was long seconds or what felt like minutes before the door finally opened. Tom was already ready for bed. The white t-shirt and pants made it clear. He looked at you and his cold expression scared you. Despite his red, puffy eyes, Tom seemed expressionless.

"Your Highness, you shouldn't be here at this time." He said and the royal title he used startled you even more.

"I know I shouldn't come unannounced but… I haven't seen you since." You replied with a low voice.

"Want me to take you back to your quarters?" Tom rested his hands on the doorframe and looked around the hallway.

"What…no! I, Tom…we need to talk. I need you to listen to me."

"Your highness, please, it's late. You can't be here alone, and you need to warm up." He ran his eyes over your body covered in a thin coat that only covered your arms, your legs exposed.

"Stop saying that!" You cut him off.

"What?"

"Your Highness." You mocked.

"It's your title. It's what you are."

"No! You call me by my name, it's always been that way. Stop it." You answered. "Tom, please." You pleaded.

He let out a breath and entered the room again, leaving the door open for you to follow. You closed it and leaned back against it. Just like you had done so many times before, the only difference was that he wasn't the one pressing you against it. There was no heat, passion or lust. It was fear. Fear kept you away from him.

"Tom…I, I'm so sorry."

He clicked his tongue, letting out a sound of disapproval.

“What are you sorry about, Y/N?” The way he said your name gave you goosebumps.

"I didn't know…that they were coming today. Nor that my father planned for you to be there."

"So you're sorry I found out?"

"What? No! You think I wouldn't tell you? How could I keep this from you?" You spoke as you approached him.

"Well, you hid it Y/N. How long have you been promised to him? How long have you known about it? That he was coming?" He looked at you in disbelief, the pain in his eyes that filled with tears. "It felt like it was already done before you were even born."

"It wasn't certain that it would happen, my parents hadn't talked about it for a long time. And I thought they had given up, that I could choose what I want."

"You're so innocent, Y/N. Look at the world we live in! You know that would never happen. You don't seem to remember the stories they told us as kids." He laughed. "Don't you remember the exiled princess because she decided to follow her own path without following the rules?"

"That's just a story."

"It doesn't matter, Y/N. You have a duty to fulfill, for the kingdom. For what your ancestors built. Just as I have a duty to my father and everything he did for me. You have a kingdom to rule. And I have a queen to protect." He laughed mockingly, every word spoken filled with venom. Tom needed to push you away, for both of your sakes. "That's who we are, nothing more. You need to carry heirs. You need to live a long, happy life. With a partner and a big family."

Every word was a stab in your heart. You never thought about the possibility of heirs that weren't yours and Tom's. There is no one who could be the father of your children other than him.

And the thought of seeing you carrying another man's children destroyed Tom.

"No! Tom, stop!" Your hands went to your hair, tears running down your face without stopping. "Please."

"What hurts me is that you kept this from me… Y/N, we've been at this for years. You knew everything. Is this fair to me?"

Tom's hard, hurt look and the tears that started to roll down his face broke your heart even more. He walked towards you as you took steps back. Until you feel the surface of the table full of books.

Tom's face stopped inches from yours.

"Why did you do this to me? Why did you make me fall in love with you? While you knew this ending was inevitable?" His hand went up to your hair, touching it lightly. "Why did you let me touch you in ways no one else has?"

"Tommy…" You whispered, your hands held his white shirt tightly, as if you didn't want to let go. "I didn't mean to hurt you, you know that!"

"To be honest I knew it would end at some point, I knew I could never have you forever." You closed your eyes. "But I didn't think it would hurt this much, Y/N."

Tom's face got closer and closer to yours. His face wet with tears. His lips barely touched yours, his eyes locked on yours.

"You need to go rest, Your Highness. It's been a busy day." And with that he walked away completely, walking and creating a distance between you beyond the physical. It was Tom putting an end to everything you had lived together and everything you ever thought about planning.

"Tommy, no! Stop! I'm going to fix this, I'm going to fix everything. They're going to listen to me. I'm not going to marry someone else." You say between sobs. "I love you, Thomas. You're the one who matters to me."

Tom closed his eyes tightly upon hearing your confession. Finally hearing what he had wanted for years.

And you waited for his response but nothing came out. Tom continued looking at you without showing any reaction.

"I will escort you to your quarters, Your Highness." And his cold tone made you realize it was the end. He wouldn't give in anymore. He accepted that there was no other alternative to your relationship.

Tom wouldn't be able to continue a secret romantic relationship with you even if you begged. And he knew you wouldn't do that. How could he continue knowing that in the end, only the other man would be recognized as your partner? He couldn't handle knowing that you would kiss, sleep and live with someone else.

You are not a difficult person to like. A sweet and caring personality, full of life and smiles despite the difficulties faced. Tom knows that just spending a short time with you would make anyone fall in love, especially if you opened up and showed your true self. Not just the future queen of the court, with diplomatic thinking. But that side of you that is still maturing, along with teenage jokes and dreams.

Tom knows your potential, and he knows that you will become a brilliant queen. He knows that the future of the kingdom will be in good hands when the time comes.

He just hopes that the person next to you is able to take care of you in your most vulnerable moments. May he listen to you and support you, just as he tried and did several times during all these years.

Tom understands how aware you are of your role in this story. He knows that you will walk to triumph and that this moment is just heartbreak. But you will overcome. You were born for this.

You took a deep breath, seeking back your composure and that appearance of a person raised in a court.

"It's not necessary. I can go alone."

You walked quickly to the door but before opening it you turned and faced Tom once again.

"I just want you to know that I was willing to try. I was ready to face whatever it took to achieve what I want. I thought you knew me well enough to understand that."

Again, Tom said nothing. He just nodded and stared at the floor.

You turned around and opened the door, and to your surprise, another familiar guard was about to knock on wood. Harrison was startled by the abrupt manner that the door had been opened and his eyes widened as he realized what was happening.

The princess with red eyes and a wet face, in the middle of the night, wearing only a robe that covered her arms and in a guard's room.

His mouth opened and closed, as if he was trying to say something but couldn't form a sentence that made sense.

With no time for manners, you just took a step forward and Harrison understood that he needed to get out of the way. He gave you space to the side and you left Tom's quarters like a breeze, quick and light.

Harrison watched your form until you disappeared into one of the hallways. He looked into the room and saw his best friend with his posture hunched over and his eyes fixed on the floor.

And the pieces of the puzzle finally fell into place.

...

Two months had passed since the fateful day of the end. You and Tom only crossed paths sometimes and he accompanied your family when something needed to be resolved politically. Until now, Tom's work was focused on meeting the king's needs, but he knew that would change once you ascended the throne.

Nothing more was said between you. Unless it was something related to the kingdom. Tom realized that there was no longer any type of relationship between you that was not strictly related to the role that each played within the court.

He noticed how close you and Chris had become. Your future husband had come to spend some time at the palace so that he could begin to get used to it and understand how everything worked. You spent a lot of time together and Chris really wasn't a bad person. Despite always wanting to be pleasant, he has already imposed himself on some of your decisions and demonstrated relevant opinions.

And you weren't offended by his words. Maybe sharing the burden of the crown with someone who understood these difficulties wouldn't be so bad.

The wedding would take place in 6 months, and the entire palace was already preparing for the big event. Menus were being chosen, as were the flowers and fabrics that would be used in the decoration.

Surprisingly, you felt fine. The days were always full and you always experienced something or met someone new that made you forget your heartbreak. Tom was your first love and everything you experienced will always be alive in your heart, but you could survive it.

Tom was at the entrance to the castle, watching the different groups of guards preparing to take up their posts when he heard his name called.

"Hello, Thomas!"

He turned around and found Chris, with his black hair and tanned skin.

"Sir." Tom bowed.

"It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" He stopped next to Tom and stared at the landscape. "I like this place, despite all the movement every day."

"You'll get used to it." Tom laughed softly.

Tom didn't harbor any resentment toward Christopher. He understands very well that it was not his choice. Neither of you had any choice in what you were living through now and he wouldn't blame anyone for his broken heart.

"I heard that… the king told me… that you will be going to Solastria." Chris hesitated.

Solastria was nothing more than court territory. It was a good few miles away from the palace and was the place where new guards were recruited and trained.

Tom decided that this would be his role in the story.

He would be responsible for introducing new guards to the palace. Strong and strategic warriors ready to defend the kingdom and the person he cared most about.

Tom can't deny that he's happy for you. Even though you seem fine, he knows that you have your moments and that it hasn't been easy for you. He notices this in the difficulty you have in maintaining a simple conversation with him or having minimal eye contact.

But you've been doing well. Both in the diplomatic tasks that the king has gradually passed on to you and in more personal matters such as marriage. He knew you could do it.

"Yes, I will be leaving in two days. They demanded my presence there."

"I bet the reason is because you're one of the best warriors around here." Chris laughed.

"They tend to fill my ego like that."

"Well, it's a shame you're leaving. I think I could learn a lot from you. But I understand! And I wish you luck." Chris said, resting a hand on Tom's shoulder.

"Thank you for that."

"But I have to ask…does she know?" Tom quickly turned to Chris. "The princess…does she know you’re leaving?"

Tom tried to look clueless. But Chris just laughed softly.

"She told me… about you. Strange isn't it? But what you don't know, Thomas, is that Y/N and I have known each other for a long time and have kept in touch." He took a deep breath. "She's my friend. A dear friend. I trust her and she trusts me."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interfere in your relationship." Tom responded defensively, facing the courtyard again.

"It's not about that. We are fulfilling a duty, we were taught that way. Y/N is not the only one who was forced to abandon her dreams and plans for a perfect future." Chris swallowed hard. "I also left things behind, people. And I said goodbye to them. I ended a cycle. And I kept the memories."

Tom felt his eyes burn, but he wouldn't let the tears come down. Not in front of a stranger.

"I will do everything to make Y/N happy. Or at least to make her feel less alone. Whatever is in my power and whatever she allows me."

"Thank you. I appreciate it." Tom said, voice barely above a whisper.

"Make the right decision, Thomas. Don't wait to regret it later." Chris said and turned around walking away from Tom.

...

"What is your greatest desire?" You asked him as you rested on his bare chest.

"Hmm…" Tom pretended to think. "I want to defeat an ogre."

You clicked your tongue, laughing and patting his chest.

"I'm serious, Tommy!"

"I'm serious. Can you imagine? Captain Holland defeats a disgusting and grotesque ogre that was trying to ravage a small village within the kingdom's boundaries. I bet it would be a success"

"Oh yeah? And who do you intend to impress with an act of courage like that?"

"I don't know. Maybe the knights would respect me more… you know, stop asking me what I do to be so good." You laughed.

"You're very cocky, you know that?"

"Or else, I would impress beautiful maidens in search of true love with a charming warrior."

You feigned surprise after his words.

"So me being naked under your covers means nothing to you?"

"But you know what they say, maybe everything I needed most is right under my nose. So there's only one person I want to impress." He said as he squeezed your waist with one hand while the other supported his head from behind.

"You convinced me." The two of you laughed together.

Your fingers trailed down his exposed chest.

“My biggest wish is to do this forever.”

"Sweetheart, unfortunately our bodies have limits that need to be respected. But we can work around that with a few water breaks."

"Oh Thomas! Stop it." You propped yourself up on one elbow, your face now inches from his. "I meant you and me, together. Regardless of form and place. You are my greatest desire and a life by your side is my dream."

He smiled and placed one of his hands behind your head, pulling you close and finally finding your lips.

"Let's think about it tomorrow, okay? Right now it's just you and me." He said when he disconnected your lips.

Tom watched the palace doors close after he left, feeling like this would be the last time he would see this image.

He didn't say goodbye. He wouldn't have the courage to see your reaction when he told you that he was leaving and that there was nothing more to be done in that place.

Life in the palace was beautiful. He lived, learned and loved. And he wanted to keep the memories of this place untouched. Only the beautiful would be remembered, not the pain and sadness.

Tom would love you for eternity and even though he couldn't prove it by being by your side, he decided that he would continue to protect you, even from afar. Just as he swore to his father that he would follow in his footsteps and take care of the kingdom, he also made a promise to himself.

That would prevent any danger from crossing the border of that kingdom and no harm would come to the place you loved so much.

And you would be happy.

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