#p.parker

[ssspideysense]

✧˖° pretty boy

summary: peter’s a little bit of a people pleaser— mostly when you’re the person in question.

pairing: mcu!peter parker x reader

tags: fluff, undefined relationship, no pronouns used for reader

wc: 1.4k

“Stay still.”

And he tried.

Peter tried to hold himself still like a statue as an unbelievably soft hand cupped the side of his cheek. Your fingers were warm and your skin was smooth and your face— it was right up in his face, twisted with a look of concentration.

He contemplated holding his breath, too, but he could smell your shampoo, and he wasn’t quite ready to give that up yet.

You carefully swept the black pencil along Peter’s bottom lash line. The foreign sensation startled him, forcing him to blink, but he tried to resist the urge to pull away.

Makeup. He was letting you put makeup on him.

It wasn’t the worst thing in the world. You’d shaped his eyebrows with the tiniest little brush he’d ever seen, drawn on him with a couple of different types of pencils, and patted some pink onto his cheeks. Peter didn’t really know what was going on, but it didn’t really matter once your face lit up and you scooted so close to him your knees smacked against each other.

The relative quiet in his room only did so much for his frayed nerves. What if May skirted in without knocking? What if Ned decided to come over unannounced again? Admittedly, Peter couldn’t work out which possibility was worse.

But he could count your eyelashes right now. He could see all the little flecks of color in your irises, even in the shitty lighting from his desk lamp. There wasn’t anywhere more appropriate for him to look as you painted on your canvas, and he thanked the universe that he had enough time to brush his teeth before running out the door that morning.

“Peter, hold still,” you warned again, shooting him a less than amused look.

He smiled and chuckled a bit, though it was more automatic than anything. “You’re literally in my eye.”

“I’m not in it— don’t be a baby.”

You shifted the hand on his cheek and instead laced it into his hair, holding him still while you added a few finishing touches to the smudged eyeliner.

His heart had never beaten faster. Your firm, secure tangle into his wild locks kicked up a mass of butterflies in his stomach. You guided his head back, enough so he was looking up at you— his head tilted, his breath caught in his throat.

He wouldn’t exactly call it a relationship, the… thing you two were tangled up in. He would, if he could, because he really wanted to— but you hadn’t exactly discussed that sort of thing yet. Feelings were up in the air like party balloons, just waiting to burst from the building tension.

You were closer now than when you started, legs saddled on either side of his own, and you were unbothered, even when his hands accidentally brushed the sides of your thighs as he fidgeted. The light pressure of you perched on top of him while he sat stretched out over his Star Wars bed sheets was the grounding he needed to keep himself from floating away.

“Aaaaand… done,” you used your finger to smudge out some of the dark lines you’d carefully laid down on Peter’s face. You leaned back a tad, examining your handiwork with your fingers still intertwined into his curls. “See? It makes your eyes pop.”

Peter couldn’t care less what he actually looked like at the moment. He’d forgotten exactly what you’d said to get this to happen in the first place, but it didn’t matter. He just knew that he’d do it again, probably without question next time. The electric buzz of wild wings fluttering in his stomach was enough of a reason— your smile as you gently tugged on his hair was yet another.

A smile crept onto Peter’s face as he looked up at you. “And it only took you, like, forty minutes.”

You scoffed, releasing his hair. The bed creaked with the swing of your leg as you shifted to walk across the room to his desk. Casual as ever, like you hadn’t just stopped and restarted his heart about five times, you tossed the eyeliner pencil into your open backpack. “Well, it would’ve been faster if you didn’t fight me in the beginning,” you mused.

He’d opened his mouth to protest, but promptly closed it when his aunt’s voice filtered through his bedroom door. “It’s about that time, kiddos,” May called, rapping against the wood a few times for good measure.

Neither of you were kiddos anymore, but May never listened to Peter’s soft protests about the topic anyway. She’d just recently lifted the “keep the door cracked” rule after Peter’s birthday a few months ago. It wasn’t time to push it.

And you groaned, grumbling about the loss of time during your very focused mission. You began gathering your things — beauty supplies, a half-eaten bag of beef jerky, your notebooks that went completely unopened this entire “homework session” — and shoved them into your backpack.

Peter stood to his feet. “Wait, how do I wash this stuff off?”

In a show of faux offense, you clutched your imaginary pearls and gasped. “So eager to erase all of my hard work? You haven’t even seen how pretty you are yet,” your light laughter made the corners of his lips twitch up.

While you pulled on your jacket, Peter chanced a glance at himself in the mirror atop his dresser. To his surprise, there wasn’t some sort of clown staring back at him. He peered at his eyelashes and his cheekbones and his newly defined eyebrows— it was a little startling, pulling a chuckle from his chest, but he didn’t look quite as insane as he pictured in his head.

Your visage appeared behind him in the mirror, lips curled up with a wicked tinge of sweet amusement. “Do you feel bonita?”

“I feel bonita.”

“Wonderful, because you look bonita.” Your hand ruffled his hair, soft and playful, and the ghosts of your fingers gripping into his locks just minutes ago danced around his thoughts.

Peter chuckled and shook his head. “Am I stuck like this forever now?”

Behind him, you slung your backpack over your shoulder. “Do guys not wash their faces before bed? Just take a shower, stinky.”

He mocked your words under his breath which earned a firm punch to the shoulder and a stifled chuckle. He wanted to say more, more of something maybe smart or witty or funny, because you were always smart and witty and funny, but his brain was a useless piece of meat at the moment.

“I shower every day, thank you very much,” he managed.

“Oh, and now you’re lying to me? My heart can’t take this.”

Peter’s own heart thumped with your sarcasm.

“Never. You know I’m a bad liar,” he continued, because, despite himself, he couldn’t help but bounce off of the banter that felt so natural between you.

A small hum left your lips. You eased a bit closer, examining your artwork again on his heated face. “Yeah, you always get all blushy and stuttery when you’re nervous,” one of your hands graced his jaw, tilting his head from side to side as you spoke oh so casually, “plus, you talk a lot louder. It’s kinda cute.”

“That’s not true, I don’t do that,” Peter complained, proving at least two of your points immediately, and his adam’s apple bobbed with a thick swallow.

That hand that laid under his ear gently patted his flushed cheek a few times for emphasis.

“You sure about that?” you smiled, the light gloss on your lips glinting in the low light of his bedroom.

“Y—Yeah,” his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat immediately after, “yeah, yes. I’m sure. Totally sure.”

And you couldn’t tuck away your smile, even when you swept in to press a quick kiss to his lips.

Peter leaned in eagerly, humming a little in surprise. His eyes fluttered shut, his fingers jumped to your waist— this wasn’t exactly how he pictured your first kiss, but he sure as hell wasn’t gonna fight it just because he was in eyeliner.

But you pulled away all too soon, which could’ve been any amount of time, as far as Peter was concerned. He looked down at you with his doe eyes, that boyish grin crooked and giddy on his flushed face.

Your voice was honey, smooth and sweet just like the way you looked at him.

“Whatever you say, pretty boy.”

[spidermaninreallife]

[urrockstar-xe]

math test - p.parker x fem!reader

posted jan 27th, 2024 3:28 pm

came up with this cutesy idea the other day, hope u enjoy :)

summary: Peter's tired of allowing Spider-Man to be a shitty boyfriend, so he makes up for it the only way he can think of that wouldn't get you in trouble.

masterlist

not proofread

wordcount: 0.8k

It was nearing 2 in the morning when Peter slowly lifted his window open from the outside, not so gracefully falling inside once it was a wide enough gap, followed by him stumbling several times as he tried to close his window while simultaneously trying to take off the red and blue spandex suit that so badly needs a wash.

The sound of his old bed frame creaking caught Peter’s attention once he finally pulled on some sweatpants. 

He whipped around, his gaze immediately falling to your half-asleep figure in his bed, a familiar sight now, one Peter had adored. Your half-opened eyes tried to focus on his silhouette. 

“Shit, hey sweetheart I didn’t mean to wake you” Peter’s whispered apology was laced with a soft muffled tone as he pulled a hoodie over his head, not bothering to fix his hair as he made his way towards his bed. “Didn’t know you were sleepin’ over tonight” He said with a tired smile playing on his lips, the bags under his eyes failing to distract you from the beauty that was your sleep-deprived boyfriend as you merely scooted over for him to join you. 

“Supposed to help me study for that test” you mumbled, no malice in your voice, no hints of irritation, not even a slight sadness to your voice at the thought of him forgetting about your plans. All you cared about at this moment was your boyfriend cuddling with you, using all your energy to open your arms for him to slide into. 

Peter stopped dead in his tracks, looking down by the nightstand and seeing your backpack on the floor, a math book sitting on the floor beside it next to a few pens. So that’s what he tripped on when he came in.

“Oh, man. I’m sorry, doll. We can work on it first thing in the morning, swear.” Peter promised, giving into what you wanted and sliding in bed next to you, wasting no time in wrapping you in his arms. 

“It’s due tomorrow, and I have to leave early for that dumb field trip.” You mumbled into his shoulder, not meaning to but making Peter feel all the worse for forgetting as he softly smoothed his hand up and down your back.

~

By the time Peter woke up the next morning you had already left, leaving behind a note on his desk.

”don’t think too hard about that test, I’ll just ask if I can have extended time on it. I’m just happy you got home safe” 

The little hearts surrounding your name at the bottom and the emphasis on him getting back at all seemed to have the opposite effect on Peter than you had intended. 

As now, he just seemed more determined to fix this problem he had made.

~

You laughed as your friend lifted her arms into the air, taking in a big deep breath as you both finally got off the bus, “freedom!” she exclaimed. 

“We have that test in like 30 minutes” You reminded her with a smile, earning a glare in response. “Buzzkill”

You chuckled this time, before watching her lift her finger and point behind you, turning as you followed where she was pointing, “that’s geek charming, what’s he doin’ here?” she asked quietly, expecting you to have an answer as you watched your boyfriend hurry over to you, green folder in his hand. 

“No clue, I’ll meet you inside” You smiled at her, watching her nod and smile back in response, walking backward towards the school while she obnoxiously waves and says “Hi, Peter!” 

Peter waved back, finally in front of you as he turned his gaze to see you already looking at him, with a soft smile. 

“Hey,” Peter matched your smile, holding out the folder to you before you could respond. “For your test, you forgot your math stuff in my room, so” 

You smiled, taking it gratefully, “Thanks, Petey. Although I don’t know how much help it’ll be-” Peter cut you off, “I mapped out in your notebook exactly how you can find any answers for the test and explained it in notes how I knew you’d be able to understand” You looked at him in awe as he rambled, watching as he took off his backpack and fumbled with it before pulling out your math notebook and handing it to you. “Peter-” “I almost wish I could take the test for you, I’ve just had so much to do lately as you know who and that’s no excuse for ditching my best girl when she needed my help so I figured this was the least I could do” Peter continued, taking a breath once he had finished. 

You set the folder and notebook down on the grass, pulling Peter into a tight embrace. “This is nice” he mumbled into your shoulder, squeezing your waist ever so slightly. “I love you, Peter Parker” You mumbled back, pulling back just enough to set a soft kiss to his lips. 

“I love you more, now go pass your test and make me proud, you can do that, can’t you, sweetheart?” Peter smiled at you, chuckling as you placed one, two, three more kisses on his mouth before pulling away and grabbing your stuff. 

“When I pass, you’re buying me dinner, baby!” You said, beginning to walk away.

“Whatever you want, doll!”

[tim-shii]

uhm ,, so hey-

this ask made me have to draw it so have spidey rin @tim-shii

I WANNA BE SAVEDDD‼️😫😻

[miley1442111]

worth it-p.parker

a/n: intended for fem reader, but imagine what you like:))))))))) also this is earth 616 so tom holland's spiderman :) also this is kind of like pre-endgame

summary: your boyfriend abides by the workplace rules, right?

pairing: peter parker x reader

warnings: kissing (that's it.)

Being Wanda’s sister meant you were relatively intelligent, and also now a superhero, much to her chagrin. You were a necromancer, you could raise the dead. That came in handy when hydra controlled you, but you were an avenger now. 

Being 17 and an avenger honestly sucked. Yes, you got out of school, but you’re usually getting out of school to beat the shit out of monsters and aliens. Not the ideal job. One good thing that came out of it was your boyfriend, Peter Parker. He was probably one of the smartest people you’d ever met, and the kindest. 

“Babe, can you pass me the wrench please?” Peter asked and you threw the tool his way, focused on your own project. 

After a few minutes of silence, the rest of the team came in, looking for the both of you. “Kids, come on, you’re late for the briefing,” Tony reprimanded. You rolled your eyes. 

“Just do it here,” you suggested. “I need to work on his for school-”

“You’re making pym-particles, for what? Gym class?” Tony scoffed as you tried to hide your work. 

“It’s not pym-particles,” you sighed. 

“No, it’s a time machine,” Tony joked, sarcasm oozing from his words. Your eye twitched, he’d figured you out. “Shit, it is a time machine.”

“No!” You huffed. “It’s pym-particles for a time machine,” you pushed past Tony as Peter followed behind. “Let’s just do the damn briefing-”

You had started to walk but Peter webbed your hand and spun you, causing you to topple into his arms. “You figured out time travel?” He asked, his excitement clear as day.

“Maybe,” you sighed. “It’s not done yet-”

He cut you off with a heated kiss. He pushed you into one of the broom closets and continued his assault on your lips. Peter was never this forward, well, only when you were back from missions and both of you were on an adrenaline high. His lips felt good against your own, his hands grabbing at your ass as you gasped. He slipped his tongue in and your hands grasped at his hair. “You’re incredible,” he whispered between kisses. “My smart girl.”

There was a knock at the door and you broke apart, both of you embarrassed, warm, and turned on. “When you’re done sucking face, come to the briefing,” Tony laughed. You waited for his footsteps to retract, then left the closet, hand in hand, mentally preparing yourself for the torment you would have to deal with the second you walked inside the room. Peter smirked at you and brought your hand up to his face, kissing it. 

Maybe it was worth the non-stop jokes for a week and teasing.

[railingsofsorrow]

Epilogue

[peter parker x reader]

summary: harry finds your behaviour slightly suspicious & there's an evening spent between friends.

pairing: p.parker x f!reader; slightly harry osborn x f!reader; mj x felicia hardy.

w.c: 3.3K

warnings/content: jealousy; injuries (mentioned); protective harry osborn; language; migraines (mentioned); clumsy but committed peter parker (yes, he learnt from his mistakes. finally); discussion about the multiverse theory; angst but there's more fluff this time sadly; minor character's death (mentioned).

A/N: this fic has come to an end :( it was fun writing this. my first experience in writing a short spiderman fic, it was so hard to come up with a good ending and it probably still not perfect but I feel like it's a good enough one. I hope you like it too and that you'll come back to read more of my spiderman stuff, cause there will definitely be more! good reading, people <3

navi

masterpost

series masterlist

mcu masterlist

[1] [1.2] [2] [3] [4]

“So they're just gone?”  

You turn your neck to glare at your friend. Ever since you mentioned your migraines to him one day and he saw one of your episodes once or twice — a little bit more than that — he hasn't stopped bugging you about it. He wanted you to go to the doctors to get checked out. Until, well. Until the migraines miraculously vanished. Your head never bothered you anymore and you're even sleeping better, given the lack of dark circles around your eyes.  

Harry wasn’t having it.  

First and foremost, he did not believe continuous migraines were cured just like that. Overnight. Because how come he saw you incapable of watching a lecture one day and you're perfectly fine on the other?  

Either you are popping some pills or someone magically healed you.  

He didn't like any of the options. 

He was still worried, okay? Harry cares. He may not be loud with it, but it's you, so he cares. And he cares a lot. You should know better than to just outright lie to him. 

“Yes. Why does it matter? I'm fine, shouldn't you be happy I'm no longer whining on your shoulder?” 

“You're not taking drugs, are you?” 

A surprised laugh echoed around the room and he almost felt his body melt at the sight of your curled up frame from how much you were laughing.  

“It amazes me,” you said between chuckles. “that you'd think I'd pull that off.” Not without him knowing, at least. You and Harry are side by side for almost the entire day.

“I don't doubt you.” 

“You're losing faith in me.” 

“I never had it.” He huffs out a laugh when you throw a pillow at his face, hitting him right on his nose. He fell on his bed with a groan, you moved his homework out of the way before he could mess it up by laying on top of it.  

“Just... tell me if it gets to that point again, okay? 

You look at him, contemplating something that he can't figure out. With the way you avoid his eyes as you answer, he knows you decided to say something else instead of that first thought. “I will. But it won't.” He found the conviction in your voice strange. You can't know if it will ever get that bad again. Just as the migraines miraculously left, they might come back.  

He didn’t question it further. 

You went back to your homework, sharing some insights on his as he does with yours. It didn’t last long until your phone started blaring beneath the pillow you're perched on, the sound being slightly muffled by the fabric.  

You feel Harry's teasing before he can sputter out a sentence.  

“Shut up.” You hissed, picking up the call without looking at the caller ID.  

“One Direction. Really?” 

“Hello.” You pointedly turn away from his smirky face. You have to take the phone away from your ear due to some loud police sirens that come from the line.  

“Hi, hello!” The distinctive voice of Peter Parker replies. Yelling. That was the only way you would be able to hear him anyway. “There's been a thing and I— Shit!”  

You concluded the phone is thrown away because his voice suddenly sounds very far. 

You offered Harry a lousy excuse to step out into the hallway, frowning at the other voices and the police sirens you could hear.  

“Peter, you—” 

“I'm back!” Again, you take the phone away from your ear with a sigh. “Sorry, I was— I was busy.” You gathered that fact by the way he sounded breathless.  

“Are you running?” 

“No!” The noise proceeded to quieten down and you raise an eyebrow at his blatant lie. “Sorry, was I loud? Feels like I was being loud. Sorry.” A door is closing and he's groaning at the end of the line. Instead of finding it funny, you start to get worried, picturing a dislocated shoulder or maybe a deep gash on his arm like last time.  

You and Peter made an agreement. When you agreed to be friends again — part of that starting over bullshit that was your idea — you and him worked on filling each other out on both of your lives. Just catching up as good friends do. Less than a month later you were patching up his wounds as if you never had stopped doing that in the first place. Sometimes, you'd even think you were back where you started as if it was all back to the start of your story in Queens. Midtown. Making plans with Ned and Peter for the weekends. Sitting with MJ at lunch as much as she claimed she hated company. . .

There was a pull at your chest every time you remembered it wasn't like this. You weren't back at that time. You couldn't go back. You only had the now and it had to be enough. It was enough.  

“Peter, are you hurt?” But you still felt the same agony whenever the idea of Peter being hurt came across your mind. An unsettling fear settling up in your core.  

“No.” he shuffled around, clearing his throat. His voice was back for you to hear it clearly. “I'm fine. Just a bank robbery downtown and I—” he paused to let out a heavy sigh. “I'm sorry I'm late, I'll be there in a second, okay?” 

You blink, confused. “What? Late for what, Peter?” 

“Hanging out?” He said followed by a tinge of uncertainty. “Uh, you said that after class—” 

Your brows shot up in recognition. “Oh! Yeah, that's—” Then you checked the time on your phone. You were supposed to meet after class to hang out around 5 p.m. It was still 3 in the afternoon. “Peter,” you held in a chuckle. “That's like, two hours away. You're not late.” 

There's silence on his end and you start laughing.  

“Oh,” he mumbled, letting out a breath of relief. “That's— That's good. I was thinking that I was like really really late and—”  

“You're good, webs.” You softly reassured him. Peter has been working really hard to make sure he doesn't mess up with you again. That included arriving early at places. “Are you at home?” 

“Yeah, I just got here.”  

“Mhm. And you're not hurt at all?” 

“Just a few scratches,” Peter answered with hesitancy. You smiled triumphantly. Not because you're happy he's hurt but because you knew you were right. “I'm fine, alright? You don't have to come.” 

“Okay.” You said, stepping back into your dorm room, catching Harry eying your frame from your bed curiously. “No broken limbs though, right?” 

Peter's scoff put a smile on your lips. “Have some faith in me. I can handle a robbery.”  

The joke Spiderman can handle a robbery but Peter Parker is still clumsy almost slips out but, thankfully, you remember you're not alone.  

“Sure. I'll see you later.” 

“Hey,” he called your name before you could hang up so you waited for him to speak. “Do you— are you going— how are you— I mean...” 

“Peter, breathe.” 

You didn’t notice Harry's eye-roll, too busy cracking up at Peter's stuttering mess.  

“Okay. Alright. Are you going by yourself? Cause I can pick you up and we can go, you know, so you don't have to go alone?” He clarified, a strain in his voice as if he's been choking up to say that.  

“Oh. Harry and I are going to head out together, actually. He's here.” 

You patiently waited for his response. “Of course. Yeah. Okay. I'll see you later then. You and— and Harry. And everyone else.” 

“Yeah.” You sat down on the bed, biting the inside of your cheek. A weird feeling of guilt in in your chest. “See you later, then. Bye.” 

You don't know why you feel guilty about turning him down. All of you would meet in the same place anyway so it's not like you weren't gonna see him, right? It's just a matter of logistics.  

“Was that your boyfriend?” 

You gave Harry a blank stare as you threw your phone to the side to go back to your assignment. One of his eyebrows arched up in defiance, he played your game of not looking away for a few minutes before you got sick of it.  

“I wonder if the reason you're bothered by Peter is because you secretly have a crush on him.” 

He looks away first and your lips spread into a satisfied smirk.  

“Parker's not my type.” Harry uttered, leaning over your lap to mark a question that you had gotten wrong. His curls tickling your chin. “And this is wrong. It's not fifteen, it's fifty.” He decided to add for good measure, stepping out of your personal space. “I'm not bothered by him.” 

You hummed quietly, erasing the previous calculation to redo the math.  

“Who is your type anyway?” You asked, trying to cut through the tension. Every time you mention Peter, Harry's mood shifted. He got too quiet. He just didn’t like him for some reason you couldn't yet figure out. Peter and he haven't met before, that much you know. You claim you'll be out of this, because it's none of your business, some people just don't like each other, it happens. But you're curious and if the opportunity to find out the X of the equation comes, you won't run from it. 

“You'll never know.” His mumble is so low that you wouldn't have heard it if you weren't sitting so close to each other. He steals the pen you were using, earning a frown from you. “I like this one better.” 

“Buy one for you then,” you complained, not moving to get the pen back from him. You take the one he was using instead, eager to finish the assignment so you can have the rest of the afternoon free with your friends. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

[Pete]: (Picture attached)  

[Pete]: Do you want this back? 

When you opened the text message, your breath hitched. The image Peter had sent you showed the red scarf, the one you never let go of. You hadn't seen it in a while, ever since... Ever since you paid him a visit that night. The night you were set on burning the scarf along with that collection of pictures you found in your room.  

You've been to Peter's place countless times after that, though. You wondered why he never mentioned anything.  

[You]: Keep it. 

You sighed, conflicted with that short answer. You weren't being rude, you didn't meant to be. But you didn't need the scarf anymore. Not when you have him back in your life. You realized the scarf represented everything the two of you lived and everything you didn't.  

You didn't want it back. You weren't ready. 

Not now, at least. You hoped he wouldn't be hurt by it. 

[You]: Maybe one day you can give it back to me.  

Satisfied with your reply, you slipped your phone into your pocket, standing up to help Harry carry five smoothies toward your table. Ned and MJ were on their way, as for Peter, you figured it was the same. His apartment wasn't that far from where you were.  

“I know a loser when I see one.”  

“Hello, MJ.” You greeted after taking the first sip of your smoothie. You offer her hers and she bumps your hip, sitting beside you in the booth as a greeting. “Where's Ned?” You asked, frowning now that you didn't see the boy arriving along with her. They were always together.  

She shrugged, leaning back. “He said he would be ten minutes late. He was gonna get Peter so they could go to this store nearby his place before coming here.”  

You didn't take long to acknowledge which store she was talking about. An eye roll later, you crack out a smile in amusement. 

“The Star Wars one?” 

She nodded and the three of you quickly entered a conversation about a movie that was airing on the local theatre. Ned and Peter arrived in the middle of your discussion, a few bags in their hands that earned your curiosity.  

“Did you buy the whole store?” You joked, the edge of your lips curling up as Peter sat down in front of you, placing two little bags on the corner of his seat.  

Peter raised an eyebrow at you, amusement all over his features. “Did I?” 

“Looks like it.” 

“Oh, this is—!” Ned exclaimed, taking a sip of his smoothie. Harry held back a laugh at the boy's blissed-out state. “You got it right.” He then pointed at Harry accusingly. “I love you.” 

Harry shrugged, “I know.”  

“The one time I got your order wrong—” MJ begins. 

“You never get the right one.” Ned deadpanned, interrupting MJ's speech. The girl kicked his chin under the table and Ned proceeded to kick hers back. Just before the childish fight could escalate, you pull both of their ears and hear whining asking you to stop.  

Peter and Harry were chucking and you have to backtrack because Harry wasn't glaring at Peter for the first time. Is this progress? 

After a mindless walk to the nearest park, all of you silently decided to stick around for a while longer, basking in what was left of the sunset and the hues of orange, pink and blue that mixed together to form the purple sky of the evening.  

You teased MJ at her inability to stop texting her girlfriend while in an evening among friends and she flipped you off immediately, blushing. She's been seeing Felicia Hardy for two months and from what you could see, it was becoming rather serious, even though MJ still cannot admit it. You know your best friend and her hidden smiles and secret joy because of a new person she's interested in. 

“No, no, no. You don't get it. It's like different universes in one— Actually, no. Multiple universes that are currently happening right now. You could be you, but you're, I don't know, a villain in this other universe, while here, you're just Harry.” 

Both of your and Peter's neck snapped as you turned towards the conversation between Harry and Ned.  

Harry carried a crease between his brows, confusion twisting the corner of his lips. 

“So I'm me... but different?” 

Ned nodded vehemently. He'd always get excited whenever the topic of multiverse was brought up.  

You, on the other hand, were tense and you did not have to look at Peter to know his reaction as well. 

“I'm sure in every reality you're an entitled filthy rich bastard the same way. Don't worry.” MJ’s comment was enough you breathe again. Peter’s awkward laugh at your side.

Harry rolls his eyes, “and I'm sure you're sarcastic and bitchy about anything and anyone, Jones.” 

You throw your head back to stare up at the sky. 

“Children.” You mocked. Peter attempted to hide his laugh but he was not successful. You found it endearing how his cheeks slowly turned pink. It reminded you of when you were kids, he'd turn into a tomato every time he tried to hold in his laugh. “Behave.” 

They initiated a bickering about she started it and he started it and Ned made a comment to side with Harry to add fire to the flames.  

Sometimes you thought they could remember and then reality crashed down the moment for what it truly was. It could be good and bad at the same time. Bittersweet might be the right term to name the feeling. Of course you miss everything that was, but what currently is is also good, in a way. You have your people, despite the losses, you have him back and it's all that you could ask for. 

“Peter.”  

He gives you a sheepish smile, looking down at his shoes as he buried his hand in his jacket.  

“Did you like it?” 

You close the small box carefully. “How could I not? It's beautiful. I loved it.” You said, then punched his shoulder playfully. He pretends it hurts, but you know it doesn't. “Don't spend that much money on me, Parker.” 

Peter shrugged, playing the nonchalant part. “I'll do what I want, actually.” 

“You're such an annoying little shit, aren't you?” 

He shrugged again, this time he's got a cocky grin and a little smug attitude you recognized from when he got an answer right and you got one wrong in an assignment. It's a glimpse of the carefree nature of Peter Parker. He's a little bit proud at times, but still clumsy around people, shy between strangers, and wears his heart on his sleeve for the people he truly cares about.  

“You love it.” 

“Help me,” you asked him when everyone stopped by the fountain on your way back to university. You had your back to him and he finally understood what he was supposed to do when he saw your fingers holding the two parts of the necklace behind your neck. He stepped forward, taking both parts from your hands and freezing once your fingers met. Your skin was cold. You shivered as he clasped the necklace, adjusting with a shaky sigh. His throat moved under his hard gulp. “Thank you.” You turned around with the little rose gold maple leaf pendant around your neck.  

Peter blinked at you in a daze. The streetlight illuminated your figure as you moved your hair away from your shoulders so it wasn't curling around the necklace anymore.  

You're beautiful. So beautiful.  

As soon as he saw the maple leaf pendant, you came into his mind. It reminded him of the Fall, your favorite season, which, of course, led him to you. Funny that everything, somehow, lead him to you. He doesn't know what his life would be if it didn't. Nothing would make much sense, honestly. Peter didn't know how the other Peter Parkers handled losing you in their universe. It was such a difficult thought for him to even consider. His initial goal was to protect you and if that meant he had to let you go, then so be it. He would do it. Because you deserved a life without the mess that was his life. You deserved peace and happiness. But that plan backfired when he saw you crossing the street to reach a coffee shop. It was 8pm in the evening and he was on patrol. He had stopped two robberies an hour before so he was getting ready to go home and throw himself into bed, give a rest to his alter ego for the night. Until you showed up, crossing the street so distracted that a car almost hit you. Peter pulled you back in time, a hand on your shoulder to steady you from the scare of the car horn. You had been crying and at the moment Peter's only thought was to comfort you and figure out who had made you feel that way.  

“Myself.” You laughed, tearfully. “Sorry. I wasn't paying attention.” 

He convinced himself that from that point on he had to watch over you, to simply make sure you wouldn't cross the street without looking both ways again, or trip mad and get a severe head injury. He'd watch you from afar, it couldn't do any harm. 

In reality, that was Peter's way of not letting you go and it had not been fair to either one of you. Especially you, who earned headaches and migraines and insomnia because of memories begging to come back, memories that shouldn't have been removed at all.  

Peter disappointed you. He disappointed himself too — and probably Aunt May, who must be shaking her head in disapproval wherever she was watching over him from. He's slowly making peace with himself after everything. He's finally seen that having you close by was better than the heartache of letting you go and trying foolishly to move on. He didn't want to move on from you and if that was selfish. . . that was fine. Peter was never anything besides selfless his entire life. And if you wanted to be in his life, why couldn't he want to be in yours?  

He would acknowledge the past and make the best out of the present. As for the future, well, he wasn't concerned, it would probably lead him to you. As always.  

[soraphic]

⤷ #RULES! #MLIST!

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 clem. 19. full time bimbo , part time white boy meat rider.

#recents!

❥ tell me — p.parker

slight nsfw/fluff.

❥first time — p. parker

light nsfw.

iluvfreaks. twtlinks.

soraphic 2k23 — please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms: i do not tolerate them at all.

[supernaturalstilinski]

Wanda Maximoff

a/n: I made this pretty quickly!

Warnings: sexual references, cussing but that’s pretty much it

Instagram Blurb

Y/n_Maximoff:

Liked by: Americas.ass,tonystark and 728,374 others

Y/n_Maximoff: 𝒞𝒶𝓃’𝓉 𝒷𝑒𝓁𝒾𝑒𝓋𝑒 𝐼 𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓇𝒾𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒷𝑒𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒾𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝓌𝑜𝓂𝒶𝓃 𝓉𝓌𝑜 𝓎𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓈 𝒶𝑔𝑜 𝓉𝑜𝒹𝒶𝓎. 𝐼 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒷𝒶𝒷𝓎. @wandamaximoff

Comments:

Natasha.Romanoff: Don’t have to much fun! Winter misses his mommas! 😉

↳ wandamaximoff: Don’t forget to feed him at 6pm sharp! He’s very picky!

↳ wilsonsam: that is one spoiled dog.

P.Parker: Have fun swimming with dolphins!

↳ y/n_maximoff: thank you Peter, maybe you should take Mj one day🫣

Wade.bitch: now I’m crying. My baby sis all grown up.😔

↳ y/n_maximoff: love you too idiot♥️

wandamaximoff: babyyyyy, we just might not leave the house now.. you know what that photo does to me.👀

↳ y/n_maximoff: if we don’t leave the house baby then you won’t be able to recreate what happened after the photo😉

A/n: Let me know if you wanna see more like this! And don’t be shy to ask for requests!

[riordanness]

he isn’t you [p.parker]

1.1K wordcount

requested: no

warnings: slightly abusive/manipulative relationship (not w peter)

[a/n: old writing, proceed with a cringe warning]

I walked with my head down through the crowded hallway of my school, Midtown School of Science and Technology. Kids busted around me, pushing and shoving, kissing and making out, yelling and crying and fighting.

"Hey." Someone touched my arm. My best friend, Peter Parker. His brown eyes searched mine, and he looked worried. I could tell, because whenever he's worried, his forehead crumples and his nose wrinkles, in this really strange, but somehow cute way.

"Hey," I said back, smiling slightly. "You're cute when you're worried."

"What?" Peter looked taken aback. His hand dropped from my arm, and he stared at me blankly.

I laughed. "Never mind. What's up?"

"Oh... Nothing. It's fine." He smiled, but I could tell it was forced. I didn't push it though. Peter and I had been best friends since we were five, and i food read him like a book, so I knew something was wrong. Either way, I wasn't going to force him into saying anything. If he wanted to tell me, he would.

I nodded. "Okay then. I'm looking for Jace... Have you seen him?" Jace was my boyfriend. I didn't think Peter liked him much though, because whenever I brought Jace up in conversation, Peter always tensed up and quickly changed the subject.

"No." Peter shook his head. "How- how's everything going with him? Everything okay? You're happy with him...?"

I smiled. Peter was so sweet. He'd always looked out for me, and did everything he could to help make me feel better.

"Yeah, everything's great," I lied. To tell the truth, everything wasn't great. Recently, Jace had started making me do all of his homework for him, and expecting me to obey his every whim. So far, he hadn't made me do anything utterly terrible, but I still felt a bit uncomfortable with our relationship. It just wasn't what I wanted.

Peter smiled a little. "Okay good. You'd... you'd tell me if anything was wrong, right? You'd let me help?"

I gave him a hug. "Of course, Pete. You're my absolute best friend. Of all time. You're always the one I come to about everything. But it's all just fine at the moment. Nothing to worry about, okay?"

Peter nodded, his lips pursed. I wondered briefly if he could read me as well as I could read him. I hoped not.

"You're still coming to the movies with me tonight, right?" Peter asked.

" 'Course, silly," I smiled, hitting him gently on the arm. "Wouldn't miss it."

"Okay, great..." Peter smiled, a little relieved, and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "See you tonight, then. At six. I'll pick you up."

I nodded, and with that, my best friend of ten years had disapearred into the crowd.

"Hey, baby," a new voice greeted me. This one, I was not happy to hear. I turned, just as an arm snaked its way around my waist.

"Hey, Jace." I forced a smile. Luckily, I was good at that.

"Did you do my homework for me? And get me those candy bars as well?"

I have to bite back a snarky remark, and reached into my backpack. I dug around for a few seconds, and pulled out a crumpled handful of Hershey bars, and an equally crumpled pile of paper sheets.

"Here." I handed the piles to Jace.

"Thank you, baby." Jace's tone was anything but thankful. He looked at me, and something in his expression scared me. "I'm thinking of doing something fun tonight... What do you say? A game of: 'you do exactly what I say for an hour'?"

The excited glint in his eyes made me shrink back in horror. "No!" I managed to force out. My throat was clenching on its own, and that made it hard to speak. I felt nauseous. I was pretty sure people in healthy relationships weren't supposed to feel that.

"I--" I swallowed hard. "We're over, Jace. I can't do this anymore. I'm sorry." I pushed past him, and ran.

✨🕸✨🕸✨🕸

That night, at exactly 5:56 P.M., I was sitting on the living room couch in my mum's apartment. I scrolled through my text message chats with Jace on my phone, trying to hold back tears. He wasn't worth my tears, besides, I was about to go hang out with Peter. I needed to get my mind of my boyfriend, I mean, ex-boyfriend.

I turned my phone off, and shoved it under the couch. I didn't want to see it again.

Just then, the doorbell rang. I sprang up quickly to open it, and heard my mum calling out: "Have fun sweetie, and see you later!"

I opened the door, and felt a massive wave of relief wash over me when my eyes met Peter's hazel ones. I couldn't help myself; I just ran right into his arms, not saying a word. I was afraid that if I did, I would start crying all over again.

"Oh, hey," Peter said, a little surprised. He wrapped his arms around me nevertheless. "You look, uh, really nice."

I'd forgotten what I was wearing, so I glanced down. Oh right. Slip-on tan brown flats, which were plain but super cute; a simple red dress, which had thick strap sleeves, and a navy blue cardigan tied around my waist. I'd braided my hair in a single braid down my back.

"Oh, thanks." I flushed. Jace had never really given me compliments, at least not after the initial few weeks of being together. He'd been a perfect boyfriend until a month after he'd asked me out, and then all turned to complete crap.

Peter smiled. "You ready to go?"

I glanced once at the couch, and at my phone which still lay underneath it, and made a quick decsision. "Yeah, I'm ready to go. I don't need anything."

Peter nodded, then he hesitated. "Before we go, actually, y/n, I have to tell you something..."

I frowned slightly. "What is it?" Was he going to say that he never wanted to see me again? Did he hate me? Was being my friend too much work for him? Was I too annoying?

"I love you."

Oh. Well that's not what I was expecting.

"And I know that you have a boyfriend, and that you're really happy with him and I'm just your stupid best friend but I've loved you since I was ten years old and I can keep this secret to myself anymore. Not that it's really a secret, I mean, both Ned and May knows, but it was kinda an accident in Ned's case, I mean --"

I shut him up with a quick kiss, pressing my mouth to his in a smooth gesture, then pulling away. "I don't have a boyfriend anymore, because he was just using me." I refused to let the tears come this time. "And... I love you too, Peter Parker."

I looked at him, and he looked at me, and I knew we understood each other. We always had, somehow.

"Now," I managed a cheeky grin, "how about that date to the movies, Parker?"

[merrellholland]

Not So Bad After All → P.Parker AU

HEYYYY YALL; its been a minute and I am sooooo sorry LMAO. I promise to get back into my writing era <3

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Person: Peter Parker (Tom Holland)

AU: college hockey player, frat boy, still spider-man in secret

Words: 2.4k

Warning: swearing, slight bullying (but nothing too deep)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Never in my life would I expect to have been dressed up in the most stinky and bulky fury suit… yet, here I am dressed as Sparky the Eagle. I was currently a junior at Empire State University located in beautiful New York, and throughout the years I may have found myself in a bit of a dilemma. 

Money was never an easy task for my family and I, in fact I got into this school with a huge scholarship to help support my financial needs. Despite that, I still needed to pay some tuition fees and that meant that I needed a job. This isn’t my first rodeo though, back home I had many jobs all at the same time during high school in order to help my mom with paying bills. The only hard part was trying to find a job in New York, a place that I’ve never been to until I started my first semester at Empire State. 

As I’ve completed the first two years and am now currently in my third, I’ve noticed the major stereotypical things for a college on T.V were coming to real life. The sorority girls were straight-up obnoxious and cruel to other girls who weren’t part of their sorority house, the frat boys were shirtless 24/7 while playing beer pong and having girls in bikinis all over their front yards of their gigantic frat house every Friday, and lastly the sport-frat boys. These guys were a whole different level of frat boys, and I’ve learned that very early on. These guys? Not only were they known for their handsome looks but most of these guys were going to real professional sports leagues after college, and we all know how that goes for them… in terms of love life. 

All the girls (and some guys) would be over, flirting constantly with them and not really taking interest in their sport but rather their six-pack abs and looks.  

As much as it pains me to say the cliche phrase “not like other girls” it's true. I really wasn't like the other girls swooning over these guys 24/7 and attending their friday night parties after classes were done. I was more the type of person who would prefer to finish homework and then cozy up with some blankets and a classic 2010’s rom-com. 

But now I can’t even do that since my new job requires me to be at the ice rink every week on Fridays from 6-9pm. Six to nine! That’s three hours of prime time that I could be doing homework! And that’s not even the worst part,my job was that I had to be the mascot for the ice-hockey team during their games and interacting with the fans. The Empire State hockey team was one of the best in the college leagues throughout the nation and most players got into the NHL as soon as they graduated. 

And now I’m their mascot, well I dress up as their mascot and that means getting a big sweaty and gross costume every Friday for 3-4 hours… great. Not that I could complain though, since surprisingly the pay wasn’t that bad due to the fact that you’re a student. Today was my first day on the job. The Empire Eagles were playing against the Cornell Big Red’s today and it was a home game so many students were going to attend. 

After I arrived at the rink, the manager handed me the keys to the supply storage room to change into the eagle costume. Getting into that costume was a full ass workout, the smell is something I’ve never smelt before and the amount I was sweating was unbearable. Nevertheless, I got into that God awful attire and headed outside to the ice-rink. The coolness of the air inside did help a little, but I could still feel the beads of sweat trickling down my face. 

My manager told me to practice walking on the ice with the costume since during the halftime break you had to collect all the tokens of appreciation from the fans as they threw it onto the rink from their seats. I slowly walked onto the ice with my giant eagle feet and waddled back and forth to try to get used to it before the game started, I practiced bending down to pick up the gifts  in character and tried to come up with some signature eagle moves… might as well have some fun with it righ–

“Yo excuse me but the rink is for the players to practice right now.” 

I quickly snapped my head to look behind me and– 

Great. A sport-frat boy. 

Peter Parker was someone that was greatly known throughout the university, top GPA, great looks, apparently great in the bedroom (so I’ve heard), and was the centerman for the Empire Eagles hockey team. Though I’ve never really paid attention to him. And as much as I wanted to dislike him, I’ve never personally met him before or even talked to him… so who am I to judge? 

After all, he did ask somewhat politely and– why the heck am I overthinking this? Just apologize and move on Y/N!

I cleared my throat and attempted to have a deeper voice, “Sorry dude I wasn’t aware, I’ll be on my way now” I said… and cringed internally after saying that. 

Peter nodded his head and smiled, “No worries, just a little jittery for the game so I wanted some extra practice” He replied. 

I nodded my head and then exited the rink, going back to the storage room so nobody would see me yet. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The game started and was currently ending the second quarter with the score being 2-1, the Empire Eagles winning and the Cornell Big Red’s tailing behind. I could tell that all of the players from Empire State were filled with happiness… and might I add overconfident and cocky. But that was something that I couldn’t pay attention to since I had to focus on giving it my all while I walked towards the ice rink at halftime and collected all the gifts that were thrown onto the ice from the fans in the stadium. 

I walked in character as the fun spunky eagle while walking on the ice and picking up the teddy bears with a girl's number in sharpie written on it and a bunch of red roses. As I picked them up and headed back, I took a quick glance and the audience. There were some students who seemed genuinely happy to be there and there were those… What do people call them? Oh yeah puck bunnies? Yeah there were a whole lot of girls wearing those boob jackets from lululemon and attempting to look cold but also cute and petite. I mean again, I’m not one to judge so you do you I guess. 

After I collected all of the gifts from the fans, I took some pictures with a couple of kids and I enjoyed that part. I liked seeing the smiles on their faces as they stood proud with me as their parents took photos. It definitely seemed like a core memory for them and I’m glad that I somewhat got to be a part of that. 

As the third and fourth quarter went on, it was brutal for us. Cornell absolutely demolished Empire State and beat us 4-2. I guess that’s what our players get for being cocky and overconfident throughout the whole game, thinking that they’ve got this. 

After the game ended and the fans left the stadium, my manager said to stay behind and clean the place up and pick up any extra gifts that were left. As I bent down (still in my eagle costume) to pick up some flowers that were left on the ice, something extremely heavy bumped into me from behind causing me to fling forward and make an umph sound. 

“What the fuck?” I cursed in a whisper. 

“DUDE what the fuck are you still doing here?! You need to get out, it's closed practice now looser” the voice said. 

I turned around and looked at the man who was clearly a player on the Empire State Eagles, he had blonde hair and green eyes and was definitely 6’1”. Shit, what was I supposed to do? My manager literally told me to clean the place up and then help security to lock up the stadium! 

“Bro be nice, you don’t gotta be mean” Another boy said. 

As I looked up, I saw that that other boy was no other than Peter Parker. But before I could register that, he offered me a hand and I immediately accepted it. 

I attempted to not sound like a scared wimp so I deepened my voice a little, “Uh thanks dude, I wasn’t aware that it was a closed practice… I’ll uh keep that in mind next time” I said to him. 

He smiled, “Don’t worry, Charlie’s just a snob” He replied. 

“Yeah I can tell” I responded while walking out of the rink. 

He laughed again while combing through his sweaty brown curls, giving me butterflies–

Wait what. 

Nope. Nope. Never. Never in a million years. I refuse. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The next couple of weeks went by normally, except I’ve started to notice Peter Parker more often. I never realized he was in three of my classes. In my morning class he would wear his hockey sweatshirt with gray sweatpants and in the afternoon he would take off his sweatshirt, revealing a tight-fitted white shirt that showed off his biceps. 

Damn, now I understand why girls swoon over guys like him… bro’s majestic. 

But my mama always told me to focus on my studies, boys come after. And that's what I planned to do, stay focused. He probably doesn’t even know me since at school I’m practically a nobody. I mean I join clubs, I’m in choir, and I’m part of many study groups so most people would know who I am but they probably have other friends to talk to besides me. The same goes for my roommates, they know me but they have other friend groups. 

Once again, it was Friday and that meant that we had another home game. The Eagles were playing against the NYU Bobcats. I went into the stadium and got into my disgusting and sweaty eagle costume. Throughout the weeks, I think I slowly got into character and found new dances to help entertain the little kids during timeouts and in between quarters. 

As the game started, I did my little dances whenever I could and the score at the end of the second quarter was 1-1. The stakes were going to be high but I have a feeling that we were gonna win this one. 

During the third quarter, I sat on the bench that was reserved for me and watched Peter, jersey number 4, skate all over the ice with his hockey stick. He had the puck, all of his attention was on it. The whole audience had a feeling that he was gonna score a goal but then all of a sudden one of the NYU players stole the puck from him and skated furiously across the other side of the rink. 

You could see Peter cursing and quickly going to the other side along with his other teammates. Ever since that moment, it seemed that something triggered Peter… he was starting to get more aggressive and ruthless. It made me anxious to see his behavior on the ice, but nevertheless I kept watching. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Despite the tight game, the Eagles won 3-2 and the whole crowd celebrated which meant that many gifts were thrown down onto the rink. Teddy bears and roses were everywhere and it was all me that had to clean it up. I walked on the ice with my feet stuck in the puffy eagle claws of my costume, gathered all of the gifts, and put them in a big container that I dragged with me across the ice. After I got all the stuffed animals and flowers in the container I headed towards my manager to give it to. As I handed it to him, he thanked me and said I was free as soon as I checked the whole stadium again to see if there was anyone else. I nodded and went back to the arena. 

I checked to see if there were any other fans that were trying to stay behind, but didn’t find any… but gosh my feet hurt so much and I just need a little break before heading back to my dorm. 

I took out the headpiece of the eagle costume and sighed as the cool breeze from the arena chilled my flushed cheeks. I then took out the rest of my costume which left me with my sweaty ponytail and loose hair strands framing my face along with my black leggings and shirt. Though I didn’t take it into consideration that there would be anyone else entering the stadium again after the game was over. But I guess I was wrong, because all of a sudden I heard a voice from behind me: 

“I didn’t realize you were a girl,” I turned my head around to see who it was. 

Peter Parker? I thought in my head. 

“Or pretty.” he finished his statement with his mouth parting slightly. 

I could feel my cheeks warm up despite the cool air as I laughed awkwardly, “W-What? Oh t-thanks… you look pretty too” I replied, not thinking about what I just said. 

Peter just nodded and he looked like he was seconds away from drooling as he continued to stare at me… he really does make a girl feel special. 

“Uhm, are you doing some extra practice? Or–” I say trying to break the silence. 

Peter slightly shook his head and cleared his throat, “Uh yeah, it’s just I don’t feel like I gave it my all today even though we won so I wanted to get some practice in… if that’s okay?” he says. 

I smiled and nodded my head, “Yeah sure, I’ll just go tell my manager and put this costume away.” I told him as I stood up.

He smiled back at me with his teeth as I walked towards the manager’s office, feeling intense butterflies cause Peter fucking Parker just called me pretty… WHAT IS MY LIFE?!

You know, I said in the beginning that I wasn’t like other girls but now I definitely think I am (well at least internally). 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

AN: PART TWO?? 😏

[distantdarlings]

BATED BREATH // p.parker

RATING: PG-13 / 2.2K WORDS

Peter Parker (Tom Holland) x Reader Insert (No gender-specific details)

+ SUMMARY - After a fight with your parents, who happen to be the Toomes, and your twin sister, Liz, you find yourself at a long-time acquaintance and current class project partner's house. You vent to him and soon find yourself admitting more than you meant to. (Angst, Romance)

+ WARNINGS - Language, angst, mentions of self-hate, kissing.

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Beautiful Hell - Adna

---

The brown-haired boy before you sat comfortably on his bed. He looked like he belonged right there: in a teenage boy's room with a loving aunt in the other room. He had a place. You didn't. It was hard to come here every other day just to see things you had only dreamed of, being someone else's reality. It didn't feel fair to you. Fuck, life wasn't fair to you. Life hadn’t been fair to him either. As wonderful as Aunt May was, I’m sure he ached for his actual parents and his Uncle Ben every day. 

"Peter?" 

"Yeah?"

You didn't answer. You felt like the younger boy had better things to do than listen to you bitch about your home life. It wasn't ideal but it could be so much worse, you knew that. You wondered if Peter would even listen if you did speak about it. The two of you were only here together over a class project. It wasn’t like you guys were friends. Or maybe you were? You weren’t sure. It seemed like Peter enjoyed hanging out even outside of working on this project, but you weren’t sure if that was false hope or reality. You wanted him to think you were friends. You’d known each other since primary school and had hung out socially plenty of times but always with other people. 

You wanted so desperately for someone to take you within their arms and whisper into your ear, telling you sweet lies and crazy dreams. You had reached the point in your life where you preferred a lie to a truth, especially now since the truths in your life seemed more like something that might happen in a television show. You were just tired of having to stand these problems yourself, you wanted someone to hold your hand tightly against the crash of the waves.

Though you didn't speak, Peter seemed to realize it wasn't because you didn't want to. It was because you couldn't. Some things didn't need to be spoken aloud, though. They were just known to be off-limits. The gorgeous boy rose to his feet and came to stand just before you. His eyes were trained on your hands but he did not move.

“Is it…your dad?” he spoke, barely above a whisper. Your eyes found his collarbone, then his chin, then eventually his eyes. Both of your eyes seemed to flicker back and forth instead of sticking. Your stomach churned at the question. 

Your father tended to focus too harshly on his work. He was never home, he was never happy when he was. Your mother never spoke to you anymore, just a quick ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye,’ in passing. She missed your father, you knew this. You missed him too. You had no relationship with either of them any longer. And hearing Peter talk about how great your sister was constantly slowly pulled you away from her, as well. The two of you never had much of a relationship in the beginning, but the small tinges of jealousy that ripped at your heart every time Peter mentioned her made the distance between you even larger. That was wrong, you knew it. But you couldn’t help it. You felt like no one was on your side. 

You were a person who had a constant desire to be loved. You wanted to be touched and spoken to with gentle words and soft lips. You wanted those words to be spoken against his skin with a pillow-soft touch placed there by a boy like Peter. Jesus, you just wanted to be loved as equally as you loved.

"I don't know if I’m worth all this worry, Peter," you joked, refusing to make eye contact. The past few weeks with Peter doing nothing but laughing and working and enjoying each other’s company. It had been perfect, having someone tend to every emotional need you had without worrying solely about their physical needs, but Peter deserved someone ten times what you were, and that frustrated you. You had finally accepted you wanted Peter, but he was much too nice for your dirty, ugly soul. When you’d come to the younger's house with your attitude miserable and your clothes like some kind of delinquent, it had solidified what you’d already believed to be the truth. You weren't on Peter’s level in any sense of the word.

"What do you mean?" Peter spoke slowly. He touched a curved fingertip to the back of your hand. You wondered what the younger saw when he looked at the bruises painted beneath your eyes. Did he see a delinquent? Did he see some stupid kid only half-worthy of his pity? Tears welled in your eyes. Was all of this because Peter pitied you? Stupid, poor kid getting screwed over by a goody-two-shoes sounded like the most cliche film plot of all time.

"You could do so much better than me, and I—" you choked on your words, embarrassed of what you’d just said. “I mean, with the project and all—you could get a better partner and I think you hanging out with me is making my sister dislike you.” You didn't want to cry in front of Peter. You didn't want pity, you just wanted Peter, without him having any feelings for your sister. Peter’s head dipped down to meet your eyes.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry,” he spoke, the concern on his face prevalent. “What’s all of this about? I’m sorry for asking about your dad, I shouldn’t have said anything.” 

“No, it’s not that, Peter—”

“Then what is it? Whatever it is, I’ll be here, I promise,” he spoke gently, pressing his hands to your shoulders, his finger squeezing gently. The feeling was soothing and only coaxed the tears out even more. You let out a choked sob and felt a few tears slip down your cheek.

“I…,” you started, your voice cracking under the weight of the tears. His eyes never left yours. “I like you, Peter… like, a lot. And every time you talk about Liz, it physically hurts me. I’ve had a crush on you for forever. I’ve watched you pine after her for years…and I get it, I really do. She’s absolutely gorgeous and absolutely perfect. I know that I’m nothing like her, but I wish you’d look at me that way. I’m in love with you, Peter.”

The younger placed his hand on the back of your neck and gently lowered your head down to his shoulder. It took a lot for you to break down but you figured after having to bottle everything up for so long, it was about time you vented. Your arms slowly wrapped around Peter’s waist in a tight embrace as the tears spilled from your eyes. You were embarrassed by this, to say the least, but you couldn't bring yourself to pull away from the boy. The tips of his fingers were slowly tracing the length of your spine and shoulder blades in an attempt to comfort you. 

It took a while but eventually, the world stilled. Your breaths evened out and the tears on your cheeks dried. The only movement in the room was that of Peter’s hands still following their path up and down your back. Soft breaths were heard and heartbeats pounded against chests—it was easily the most intimate moment you had ever experienced. It had taken you a while to realize it, but boyfriends and friends and school didn't fill the void that had been left in your heart. You weren't quite sure what exactly did, but Peter came pretty damn close to whatever it was. For the first time in a long time, your chest felt full. Your pulse beat against your throat and wrists and it wasn't because of some stupid boy you’d been messaged by late at night, it was because of a boy you actually knew the name of. A boy that would take care of you in more ways than just sexually. At this point, you’d take being Peter’s friend over never speaking to him again. It didn’t matter if he saw you like he did your sister, it mattered that he was holding onto you and seemed to care. 

You lifted your cheek from Peter’s shoulder and looked into the boy's eyes for one of the first time that night. You looked for any lies or misconceptions in them but couldn't find anything, Everything about the boy seemed so genuine and you hoped so deeply that it was true. Your eyes fell from Peter’s and hesitantly found his lips. Your lips parted in a stifled breath, you didn't want to force anything on Peter after he'd done nothing but take care of you, but you had to know. Had to know if he felt the same way, after all these years.  

"It’s not your sister,” he whispered. “I could do no better than you, I swear," he whispered, his lips brushing against yours. You exhaled sharply, feeling the other's hands on your cheeks before you felt his lips on yours. He groaned softly and tangled his hands into your hair, to which you replied by pressing your hands to the sides of his neck. Everything felt rushed but you couldn't help it, you’d been waiting for this since the day the two of you met. Jesus, you wanted him so bad, it hurt. 

Your back touched the wall as the kiss deepened. You couldn't think of anything you’d do to change this moment. Peter disconnected their lips suddenly and placed his forehead on your shoulder. Both of you panted heavily, seemingly waiting for the other to speak. You didn't know what to do so you simply let time pass emptily, save a single hand that went up to curl gently into the hair at the base of his neck.

"Peter?" you whispered shakily. Peter straightened his back and looked at you. Fuck, did he regret kissing you? Though Peter was only a bit taller than you, you felt significantly smaller with the way both of you were standing. Peter’s hands trapped you against the wall and his back was arched strongly over your body, while you nervously hunkered down like a small child. His nose nudged yours gently, the hair spilling over his eyebrows softly tickling your skin. 

"Yeah?" he whispered, never pulling away from you. It wasn't like you wanted him to anyway. One of his hands came off the wall and softly stroked against your cheek, making you feel like you were the most precious thing in the world. A burst of passion exploded in your chest at this minuscule gesture.

You were trying to find a steady line of thought, to say what you wanted to say, but every word that had tried to slip from your lips was long gone. You shuddered at the feeling of Peter’s body pressed against yours and allowed yourself to remember where you were right now. This wasn't time for fucking small talk. You reconnected your lips. It was easier than trying to make sense of this situation. Whether he wanted your sister or you, it was you he was kissing right now. You were going to make the most of it. 

Peter responded instantly, placing his hand back against the wall. Your head ushered his up in a strong, controlling movement, biting his bottom lip in the process. You felt chills run down his arms and spine at that single action. You hadn't felt like this in a long time, it was shocking what feelings the boy was pushing into your heart. You were ready to follow this boy to the ends of the world, there was no doubting that. 

You slid his hands around your waist, pulling him as close as he would go. Your chests bumped intimately as your teeth clashed with the force of the movement. The rhythm flowing between the two of you was more beautiful than music—every breath of Peter’s hit your ears and every brush of his fingertips against your skin was like an operatic crescendo. Every touch felt like an electric shock shooting through your body, it was almost too much to bear.

Peter leaned down and slid his hands beneath the back of your thighs, propping you up against the wall. You gasped into his mouth at the sudden action, you had never been in this position before where you weren't one hundred percent in control in a relationship. It was just your personality. Every previous time you’d been with someone, they'd been the one beneath you, dragging their nails down your back and begging you for more. But now, this felt much different. Having someone else do the work almost felt better. Your arms slid around Peter’s shoulders, entangling your fingers within the boy's ruffled hair. 

You realized at that moment, pressed up against your new lover's wall, knowing every single one of his most sensitive areas, and letting him know yours, that you’d found your place. Maybe it wasn't as the owner of a special scholarship or being your parents' pride and joy, but it was a good one—one that made you happy. And you intended on staying there as long as Peter would allow you to.

[ssspideysense]

₊˚ෆ bad habits

summary: peter tends to act on impulse — that’s what got him here in the first place.

pairing: tasm!peter parker x f!reader

tags: fluff, pining, peter’s a hopeless romantic

wc: 2.7k

What makes something a bad habit?

People usually use the phrase when they mean too much of something— too much coffee in the morning, too many cigarettes a day, too much to drink on the weekends. Overindulgence. Lack of self control.

Peter thought about this as he waited, the skin-tight material of his suit doing absolutely nothing to block the chilling rain running down his back. Past the city lights glimmering against her window pane, the apartment inside was dimly lit. He could make out the splash of colors against the hallway from the living room TV. It wouldn’t surprise him if she fell asleep on the couch again— she had a bad habit of staying up too late, biting off more than she could chew most nights and paying for it a few hours later. He wondered briefly, and hoped a bit selfishly, that he maybe had something to do with that.

He knocked again. Louder, in a little rhythm— bum ba bum, bum ba bum.

No more than once a week. That’s how it started out, however many months ago, when he crawled through that window for the first time. Swinging by more than one night a week would be way too much. He had things to do, really, and so did she. It wasn’t realistic to expect her to wait around, twiddling her pretty little thumbs, keeping her schedule free for a chance to let him into her bedroom window at 12:17 am.

12:18 am.

12:19 am.

Peter shivered. The cold had started to seep into his skin, but the chill that ran up and down his spine wasn’t from the sudden downpour.

Even the glimpse of her figure, a dark silhouette he could pick out in any city crowd, was enough to set off that tingle in the base of his skull, even for just a moment. He watched her scurry over to the window, an apologetic look tugging on her face.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t hear you,” she said, and her voice was music slipping over the smack of raindrops against the iron fire escape, “oh my God, get in here, will you?”

If he had a tail, it’d be wagging. Sometimes he was grateful for the mask and the few freedoms it allowed him—

“Wait here.”

—she couldn’t see the way his entire face lit up as he happily maneuvered through the window, or the way his eyes followed her as she wandered over to her linen closet to grab a towel for him.

Peter stood in a puddle on her hardwood. Obedient, embarrassingly so.

“Did I wake you up?” he asked. In the relative dark of her quiet bedroom, she handed him the towel, gazing up at him with the kind of eyes that make poets pick up pens.

“I should probably be saying yes, since it’s midnight, but I’m going to be disappointing and say no,” she chuckled under her breath and took a small step back.

Peter wrapped the towel around his shoulders like a kid getting out of the pool. It smelled like her laundry detergent, a scent he never thought he’d catch himself daydreaming about when he was miles away and objectively much busier with something much more pressing.

He had a bad habit of letting his mind wander, especially when it wanted to grip onto memories of her.

“You’re gonna hate yourself in the morning,” he replied.

She sent him a pointed look with a raised brow. “And so are you, when you wake up sick. What the hell are you doing? Does the song Itsy Bitsy Spider not ring a bell?”

She fussed over him. He liked it when she fussed over him.

“Yeah, y’know, the part where he climbs up the spout again is my favorite, actually.”

There was a pair of sweatpants and a big hoodie thrown at him before he could even pretend to argue against them.

“I’ll put some coffee on,” she said, gliding away, leaving him to drip quietly in her bedroom as he watched her back disappear down the hall.

“Decaf?” he called after her.

“Do you really want decaf?” she called right back.

She’d slipped from view, little clinks and clunks from the kitchen catching his ears. Peter shrugged the towel from his shoulders and started to peel his suit off. It’d become a second skin, literally and figuratively, clinging to every inch of him, making him shudder as the warmth of her apartment replaced the cold wrap of wet spandex.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind, bug— trying to be more health conscious this year,” Peter replied with a grin. In reality, he knew she’d be up all night and woefully exhausted the next day if she got her hands on some regular coffee, so he’d gladly take one for the team with decaf.

He stood at the foot of her bed in his boxers, looking down at the change of clothes she insisted upon him.

It was strange, the way Peter was utterly exposed like this, not even behind a closed door for a breath of privacy, but it didn’t bother him. The suit and the mask sat in a heap next to her radiator and it didn’t matter. He pulled the comfortable cotton up to his hips and slipped the hoodie over his head.

Soft, warm, foreign yet familiar all at once.

He heard her footsteps, heard them pause at the mouth of the hallway. The gut-drop feeling of meeting her gaze unobstructed, bare-faced and messy haired, wasn’t the same as it was the first time. Or the second, or third— she knew his face just as well as he knew hers at this point. Anxiety faded over time, replaced with a new, giddy sort of rush that started in his chest and spread over his body in waves.

She made him feel like a teenager again, and she didn’t even have to do anything. It was a little pathetic, maybe, how much he looked forward to these kinds of nights, but he’d ruminate about that later in the quiet of his bed.

Peter padded his way down the hall to her, moving through the space like he belonged there. He took in her small smile as she leaned back against the kitchen island. The smell of coffee hit him once the machine started to gurgle softly on the counter.

“Are you still cold? I can crank up the heat,” she offered as he drew closer. Her gaze fell on his mouth then— more specifically, the cut on his bottom lip. A little hiss escaped her as she reached up and brushed her thumb beside it.

He looked down at her with a slightly amused expression, watching her brows furrow down as she examined his face.

“No, it’s fine. I’m already walking around in your clothes, waiting on a cup of your coffee. I feel like a Tinder date that’s vastly overstayed his welcome, and I just got here,” Peter quipped, letting her turn his head by his jaw and study him some more. Her soft fingers caught his stubble but she didn’t seem to mind.

She arched a brow at him and eventually pulled her hand back. “I’ve never had a Tinder date crawl into my eighth-story window before.”

“I’m not really an expert on romance, but something tells me that’s a good thing.”

Her hum was low as she turned and gathered two mugs from the cupboard above her. “Tinder isn’t exactly the place to look for romance anyway, Spidey,” she sat them down with a clink.

Spidey.

He’d chosen to start with his face last summer. A bold choice, truly, but it felt like the safer option at the time. There was eight million people in New York— a couple thousand guys were bound to look just like him.

A face without a name was the tiniest breadcrumb he could drop to satiate that need, that desire to feel seen by her in some capacity without completely laying himself out there.

It was a dance he didn’t know the steps to. But she played along well, stumbling in the dark with him and letting him lead, however awkward and shaky.

Peter leaned against the counter and watched her pour two cups. “It’s not? I’m not really in the dating scene. Do people still meet out in the wild these days?”

And she gave him that little chuckle under her breath he liked. “You sound old,” she mused as she reached into her fridge. The pale light bathed her in a sweet, domestic sort of glow that one could only feel in sweatpants in the kitchen after midnight.

“Hey— I’m only twenty-six,” he countered, dipping his head despite the little grin growing on his face.

He watched her pause, just for a moment.

Another breadcrumb. A thread.

But she didn’t draw too much attention to it. Peter pictured her tucking it away for future reference.

“Well, to answer your question, yes. I guess people do still meet out in the wild,” she poured the creamer and scooped the sugar and reminded him that she knew so much about him without really knowing him, not yet, and he both loved and hated that, “but I’m probably not the best person to ask about all that. I think if a man randomly approached me in a bookstore or something, I’d probably assume he was some kind of weirdo.”

Peter hummed, his brow furrowed but his lips twitched into a lopsided grin. His fingers were cold when he gently accepted the drink from her.

“Alright, noted. What about guys that fall out of the sky and crash into your fire escape?”

He peered at her over the top of the mug as he took the longest, hottest drink of his life— anything to avoid the reality of what he just said for a few moments longer.

His throat burned, but it was fine.

The air felt heavier then, thick like the air outside as her gaze flicked over his face.

“That depends. Is he kind of awkward in a weirdly charismatic way?”

And Peter swallowed down the lava for a chance at a deeper breath without choking, “I mean— in this completely hypothetical and improbable scenario, yeah, I’d— I’d say so,” he replied.

The corners of her mouth curled up softly. “And did he come back a week later, trying to apologize with four different types of candy at ten o’clock at night?”

He cleared his throat to try and hide the chuckle that almost slipped out. “He didn’t know what kind you liked,” Peter said, that heat trickling up to his face for a different reason.

She blew on her coffee before sipping it, because she clearly had more sense than he did, and shrugged.

“Helping you out with a broken nose and a concussion makes for a more interesting story to look back on,” she replied softly.

This line they were toeing was a tightrope, strung high and taught and delicate.

Sometimes Peter wanted to take the leap. Just dive right onto the other side, tugging her along with him.

The clock on the stove read 12:37.

12:38.

“Do you think about it? The night we met?”

And she sat her mug down on the counter beside her. The sweater she wore was loose and comfortable on her frame as she crossed her arms. “Sometimes.”

“Just sometimes?”

“Do you?” she countered, tilting her head just a bit to the side as she gazed up at him.

Peter leaned back. His mug was empty, the roof of his mouth was a bit sore, but he swallowed regardless. “I do, sometimes.”

“Just sometimes?”

The rain outside picked up. It smacked against her windows with the whistle of wind just underneath it all.

“Sometimes, when I can’t sleep. I’m usually thinking about the last time I saw you, though. Much clearer picture there,” he said.

She rolled her eyes and looked off to the side, though her soft, slight smile cut the air of annoyance she tried to hold on to.

“Stop,” she mumbled, shaking her head, “that’s not fair.” He had a feeling he knew what she meant— and he had to agree, watching her avoid his gaze.

Peter reached a hand out to pull her arms out of their closed off, crossed position. Despite the tension in her shoulders, she was soft, pliable, letting him grasp her wrists and guide her forward gently into his torso.

He wrapped around her, his nose in her hair, committing the scent of her shampoo to memory.

“I know,” he mumbled back.

She was quiet, her cheek pressed against his chest in that borrowed hoodie she thought he looked criminally good in. After a few moments of his fingers lightly tracing shapes between her shoulder blades, she sucked in a breath. “That’s not fair, either, Spidey.” And she was right again.

He had a bad habit of trying to fix everything.

“Peter,” he said, his voice low against her roots, “it’s Peter.”

The wind shook the windows. She was nearly laying on him with how he held her, his long frame leaned back, arms circled around her shoulders. His breath came in calculated waves, but she could feel the rhythm changing the longer she stayed silent, along with his heartbeat under her ear.

A deep breath in, a deep breath out.

“Peter,” she tried it out, and it felt like hearing her voice for the first time.

His fingers splayed over her back and his palm smoothed up her spine. “Yes?” he mumbled back.

She had a bad habit of wearing her heart on her sleeve, at least around him.

“I think I might have a thing for guys who fall out of the sky and crash into my fire escape.”

Overindulgence, lack of self control— whatever it was, it didn’t matter, really. Peter smiled against her scalp. A low rumble of a chuckle vibrated through his chest. He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head once, twice, and squeezed her against him.

She let out a little grunt in response, feeling too much like a squeaky toy to not laugh. “Pe—Peter—super strength, remember?”

“Right, yeah— my bad, bug,” he loosened his hold just enough for her to look up at him, her palms now flat on his chest between them. “But, y’know, you have some pretty weird tastes. I should’ve known when you picked the gummy bears over the Reese’s.”

12:52. He had one foot dangling on the other side of that line he spent far too long thinking about.

And she laughed that laugh and scrunched her nose up the way she did when she found something amusing, yet dumb. She did that a lot when he talked. He took it as a personal victory every time.

“You really don’t have any room to call me weird. You run around the city in spandex every night,” she mused, her lips curled into a smile.

“It makes me aerodynamic.”

“Yeah, you were real aerodynamic when you smacked your head on the rail—“

Peter was never really a planner. It made sense in the moment, to lean in and kiss her, his hands shifting to either side of her jaw. And it made sense the way she hummed into his mouth, either from surprise or the fact that she was very much in the middle of a sentence. But it was alright, because they stood there in the middle of her dark kitchen at 12:55 am, and her lips were soft, much softer than his.

He decided he could excuse every one of his bad habits, maybe write them off as quirks instead, because as he kissed her, he realized that every single one had led him right there; drinking decaf coffee in borrowed sweatpants, listening to the rain and her deepened breathing.

She pulled away just enough to speak, their lips still brushing against each other, “I wasn’t done—“

“Neither was I,” his tone was nothing but a playful tease, and he kissed her again, “how rude of you to interrupt me like that,” and again, “honestly, sometimes I can’t believe the lack of manners in this city.”

Her laugh was grounding when his head was busy floating. She smacked his chest lightly. “Lack of manners? Let’s start with you. You crawl in through my window soaking wet, drink my coffee in my clothes that I totally don’t keep around for you just in case, and kiss me without permission,” she gave him the grocery list and he nodded to each point over-attentively, humming along.

“Right, yeah— you forgot the part where I interrupted you.”

“And you interrupted m—“

Peter kissed her again.

[spidermaninreallife]

Peter: Is this your plan B?

Gwen: Technically, this is plan P.

Peter: Plan P? Is there a plan M?

Gwen: Yes, but I marry MJ in plan M.

MJ: I like plan M.

[urrockstar-xe]

winter formal - p.parker x fem!reader

aka a starstruck christmas

posted jan 2nd, 2024 8:55pm

this is specifically for @heywardsarchive who said i should make a part 2 so thank u pals :D

this is also fairly late, happy new year, thanks for being here.

summary; although reader misses hanging around her special spider friend, her crush on a certain peter parker boy has her distracted use of Y/n

starstruck does not need to be read first to enjoy this!

starstruck

masterlist

wordcount: 2.1

It had been a few weeks since you had seen that familiar spider up close, nothing more than him swinging from afar, not that you should’ve been complaining. All of your time was being taken up by studying and then getting tutored by that Midtown High kid, Peter Parker. He was a lot cooler than you had expected but the fact all you did when hanging out was math really tainted the image of him in your head.

no matter how pretty he was.

Although with the holidays, more crime typically followed Santa around the globe so you weren’t exactly surprised how Spidey was extra busy this time of year.

Yet you still sighed in disappointment when you got home and once again met a note on your windowsill. 

”Hey, pretty lady, stopped by but you weren’t in :( can’t wait til you’re done with your tutoring sessions” 

The note was short but still, it brought a stupid little smile to your face, pulling out the notebook from your backpack, you wrote a note of your own.

”miss you spidey”

you set it on the outside of your window, setting a small rock from your desk on top so that it wouldn’t run away in the wind before quickly shutting your bedroom window and shivering from the cold.

“Maybe I should get a onesie”

~

“Y/n? You still with me?” Peter asked, grabbing your attention away from the window of the coffee shop you sat in. “Yeah, sorry, Peter” You give a quiet laugh, looking back at the window for a second, just checking to see if he’s out there before turning back to Peter, who was looking at you with a soft smirk. 

“What, why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, earning a laugh from the boy as he set his pen down.

“When did I lose you?” He asked, ignoring your question. “I don’t know,” You shrugged, honestly.

Peter shook his head, his smile unmoving as he closed the book in front of him. He leaned back into the leather of the booth, turning his gaze to your face. “Can’t get you focused at all lately” He joked, but not really. “I’m sorry” You gave him a half smile, hoping it would help your apology come off as genuine, just earning another laugh from the boy as he took his glasses off. 

God, he’s so hot. dude don’t think like that he’s right there

oh god what if he’s a mind read-

“Y/n? Again? C’mon, sweetheart” He chuckled, snapping you out of your thoughts. You laughed with him this time. “I’ve just got like no sleep lately,” You explained, ignoring the way your heart sped up at the pet name and earning a sympathetic smile and nod from Peter. “Is there a reason why?” He asked, leaning forward just slightly as if you were sharing secrets. 

“It feels like waiting for a phone call every night” You shrugged, not missing how Peter’s face fell at your words.

“Oh, boy trouble?” He asked, quieter this time. “something like that” he just hummed in response, not wanting to press any further. 

“Well, if you need a distraction, there’s this school thing-“ “Oh you mean at Nerdtown High?” You cut him off with a tease, laughing at how Peter scoffed and couldn’t help his smile. “Yeah, it’s like a winter formal dance thing, I’m in charge of takin’ pictures and stuff, could use some company” He shrugged, not wanting to just outwardly ask you. 

“And I have a special invite from the photographer himself?” You feigned a flattered face, dramatically putting your hand over your heart.

“Yes,” he laughed, “if you want to come, that is.” He shrugs, smiling at you. You mimicked his actions from earlier, leaning forward into the end of the table, still far enough to not feel his breath but close enough to make Peter slightly tilt his head as if unsure of what you were doing. 

Okay, so maybe how pretty he was did make a difference

“So, what are we wearing?” You asked, smiling.

~

The last-minute invite limited your options but luckily you managed to dig up something from your closet and accessorize enough to feel good about how you looked. While you were putting your earrings in, a knock hit your window, interrupting your giddy feelings about going to a school dance with Peter. 

Your head whipped around when there was a second knock, knowing now who it was as you got up and quickly opened the window, laughing at how Spidey dramatically fell into your room, completely on purpose. 

“hi” You smiled, putting on your jacket to shield yourself from the cold. “hey, pretty lady” Spider-man’s voice was distorted, muffled almost but also sounded like he was purposely making his voice quieter and deeper. “Why do you sound like that?” You laughed as you asked the question.

“Got a cold” he shrugged, before looking you up and down. “You look nice” Spiderman nodded, as if in approval but also as if he had to shut up before saying more.

“Thanks, don’t stare too much though, I’ve got a date!” You teased, smiling excitedly as you sat back down and focused on the red color lining your lips before blending it with your fingertip.

“A date huh?” He asked, not even trying to hide his shock at this point. You sigh, dramatically looking back at Spiderman, earning a chuckle at your theatrics. “Well, I think it’s a date, but if you ask questions, it sucks the fun out of it.” He nodded as if he understood your explanation.

He didn’t.

“You remember that tutor I mentioned?” 

Spidey hummed in response, making himself comfortable on your old bean bag chair, watching you finish getting ready.

“It’s with him” You spoke with a giddy light to your voice as you applied lip oil over the red on your lips. 

The silence from the usually obnoxious talkative spider caught your attention.

And while you didn’t know why, it was because he was internally panicking. 

“Thought he was like a total nerd” He laughed awkwardly, worried he’d blow his cover.

“Oh, he totally is,” You chose to ignore the scoff from Spidey as you continued speaking. “But, he’s also like charming and funny, and he’s so fuckin cute, he calls me sweetheart and like how he rambles apologies whenever he’s late and he always insists on walking me home even though I'm way out of his way for his own walk. Oh my gosh and the other day he hugged me which reminded me so much of that scene at the end of Tangled, like he just hugged all of me, does that make sense? Like he needed to be as close as possible, Ugh”

As you rambled on about your almost embarrassing crush on Peter, all he could hear was his heart pounding in his chest, he had spent weeks as Spiderman, coming to your rescue for mundane tasks, going as far as leaving notes when he wanted to see you but couldn’t. 

Here he was thinking Peter Parker was ruining his plans as your math tutor, meanwhile, He was the one you couldn’t stop rambling about.

Not Spiderman

But Peter.

He was freaking the fuck out.

“Oh my god, what time is it?” You asked, cutting off Peter’s Spiderman’s thoughts as you urgently looked for your phone. “Spidey, you know I love you, babe, but he’s gonna be here like any second.” You offered an apologetic smile as Spiderman waved it off, a way to say It’s all good, 

“Hey, have fun tonight, pretty lady!” He said, clearing his throat as if he was trying not to cough, and before you had a chance to respond, Spiderman was gone. 

~

“Did I mention how pretty you look?” Peter asked as he snapped another picture of you, complimenting you for the 5th, no 6th time tonight.

not that you’d been counting

You smiled, shaking your head. “No, I don’t think you have” You teased, earning that laugh that felt so painfully familiar in return.

“Hey, I have a question for you,” Peter started, still unsure about your previous conversation with Spiderman, even if you laid out all he’d need to know. 

The christmas lights and hanging snowflakes around the room suddenly became incredibly interesting to you as you nodded, avoiding all hints of eye contact possible, and silently thanking anyone who was listening in prayer as instead of looking at you, he started photographing other students and teachers dancing around the room to the Christmas music playing. 

Peter bit the inside of his cheek as he thought out his next few words, trying to not talk himself out of it. Distracting himself by taking photos of his classmates, he finally spoke.

“Do you prefer Pepsi or Coke?” 

coward

You laughed at the question, so it must’ve counted for something, right?

Or that’s at least what he had hoped as he smiled and listened to your unnecessary rant of an answer.

~

You shoved your hands into the pockets of Peter’s jacket that you were currently wearing at his insistence, of course, not being able to help yourself as you did a quick scan of the sky as Peter walked you home. 

He didn’t need instructions on how to get there anymore.

“Lookin' for something?” He asked, nudging you lightly.

Why did he always notice you looking for Spiderman?

“Someone, actually” You smiled at him, turning your gaze to your shoes, counting the cracks under your feet. 

“Oh,” play it cool, Peter. “Spiderman?” Was that too obvious?

You shrugged, looking at Peter with your head tilted.

“Didn’t know you were a fan” He continued, his turn now to count the cracks. 

“Yeah, something like that” you chuckled to yourself, shaking your head before looking at Peter, watching as he smiled softly at the concrete beneath his feet. 

“I had a really great time tonight, Peter” You sighed, nudging him slightly once your apartment complex came into view, even if you still had 3 more minutes of walking.

You really enjoyed your walks home with Peter. Of course, you counted how long the walks were.

“Me too” he nudged back, stopping for a moment and getting your attention by the feeling of his scarf getting tossed around your shoulders, you stopped walking now, allowing him to properly adjust the soft fabric around your neck making it two items of his you were now wearing.

“Can’t have you catching a cold for the holidays” Peter whispered, soft eyes moving to look into yours upon realizing how close you were. “Course not” you agreed in the same tone.

The moment lasted for however much time wasn’t enough, ending with the sound of police sirens, you both turned at the sound, watching as 2, 3, 4 cop cars rushed past you both. 

“Think I know where Spidey’s been” You mumble to yourself, though not missing the quiet laugh from Peter as he threw his arm around your shoulder, urging you to keep walking, seeming to be sort of rushing now. 

You didn’t question it, it was getting late and you knew he didn’t like leaving May alone too late into the night, it makes her worry would be all he told you anyway, so why pry?

You also had quickly decided to try and forget about the ruined moment, content in feeling as he wrapped his arms around your waist, forcing your arms around his neck in the hug you had loved so much and a quiet “I’ll see you in two weeks” mumbled into the shoulder of his your jacket.

Shit, winter break, you almost forgot about that

“Merry Christmas, Peter” You mumbled back, holding your breath as he pulled away and not letting it go til after you opened the door to the lobby. 

“Hey,” his voice made you turn around, tilting your head like a silent question mark.

“Merry Christmas, Sweetheart” 

~

The words replay in your head even still as you lie in your bed, waiting for your dreams to overtake you. How he looked at you and how he spoke the words so softly, despite having heard him call you Sweetheart a dozen times by now, you couldn’t get over it.

That seemed to mix with the anxiety you were feeling about whatever was going on with those policemen tonight, why was he not following? Was he already there? Is it about what’s had him so occupied the last few weeks?

The unanswered questions of worry and giddy feelings of adoration put you in a seemingly never-ending loop of anxiety that you were completely unable to come out no matter how hard-

Thump thump thump 

You sat up, almost giving yourself whiplash with how you turned to look at your window. 

Thump thump

They were weaker that time, uh oh.

[harryspet]

So you’ve written about forced age regression but what about forced puppy play/pet regression with rafe or stevie or Peter

I need to with Rafe!! Send thoughts pls👀👀

I’ve done it with Peter and Bucky if you haven’t read

[railingsofsorrow]

RAILINGSOFSORROW'S FIC RECS (0.2)

2nd part of the recommendation list from my fav fics! (i had to split in two because tumblr was being a nightmare) have it in mind that they can either be on tumblr or ao3.

the (+) means it has a smut masterlists: [0.1] [0.2]

↯

━━ OBX 

↬ little village by @thegreatestofheck (jj x routhledge!oc) 

best thing that's ever happened to me.

↬ whipped by @ptersparkers (jj x reader) 

↬ wake by @obxsummer (jj x reader) 

↬ aftermath by @maybaenk (jj x reader) 

↬ once a cheater... by @sl-ut (s.cameron x fem!kook!reader; t.thornton x platonic!reader) 

↬ lucky by @↑ (k.carrera x f!reader) 

↬ two of the same by @jjmaybud (k.carrera x f!reader) 

i, too, want to get married with kiara carrera.

↬ skin by @↑ (p.heyward x reader) 

↬ kie loves you... but you're not hers by @infictionalwonderland (k.carrera x f!reader; jj x f!reader)  

↬ angels like you by @cryonme (p.heyward x reader) 

↬ the 7 times he realises he loves you by @fandomtravels (I can't tag this acc :/ it's glitching) (r.cameron x reader) 

彡 

━━ MCU 

↬ one heart by @ichorai (tasm!single parent!p.parker x single parent! x reader) (major angst!) 

ok so I stumbled upon this while I was in class and I was bored so I thought let's give it a go until I get to go home. terrible idea because I was holding my cries, can you believe it? this fic stole my heart and it's so well-written, I don't think there's anything like it, it talks about loss and grieving in the most realistic way possible, I almost felt inserted into the story. plz go read it it will be so worth it.

↬ on thin ice by @leahsficemporium (peter parker x reader)

learning how to skate with peter &lt;3

↬ like slow-slipping redemption by artist_artists (ao3) (tasm!p.parker × male mj) 

I don't understand how this one doesn't have more recognition. I was craving for a bi!peter fic and I found it's the best piece of work I've read, it played with my emotions and left me of the edge of my seat. it's set on a post-no way home universe and it features tasm!peter x male mj. it's a happy ending!!! plus it's not long, only 3 chapters.

↬ getting old by @kiss-inthekitchen (husband!tasm!p.parker x reader)  

↬ peter parker can't flirt by @curseofaphrodite (tasm!p.parker x marauder!reader)

it's a crossover btw marauders era + the amazing spiderman universe.

彡

━━ TVD/T.O 

↬ apotheosis by atriums (klaus mikaelson x reader) 

it's finished and it has a sequel called alkaline.

↬ familia supra omnia by IAMiniquity (poly!mikaelsons x oc) (currently being updated) 

the best thing I've read in the originals universe, spent less than month reading it and I keep craving for more.

↬ treading on thin ice by @fitzs-trained-monkey (kol mikaelson x reader)

they write the best kol fics istg.  

↬ wasteland, baby! by trustsalvatore (kol mikaelson x oc) 

incomplete since 2020 :(((

彡

↬ coming home by @acourtofwhatthefuck (azriel x reader) (series)

━━ MISC 

↬ troublemaker by @itsapeterthing (druig x avenger!reader)  

I will tell you one thing: I wasn't into a court of thorns and roses until I stumbled upon this one. yk when the writing grips you and chains you in a way that you can't leave? that's what happened to me. I was so addicted I read this whole series in three days at most. then I proceeded to read all of their work, you should do the same, you won't regret it it's so good. 

↬ resident healer by @15-dogs (newt scamander x reader)  

↬ no one knows by @pillow-titties (billy russo x reader) +

↬ no one knows p.2 by @↑ + 

↬ by your side by @alaynes-writings (paul atreides x reader)  

↬ stormy nights by @marvelmusing (aleksander mozorova x reader)