#peter parker and reader

[pixiexdusts-world]

Incorrect Quote

Store Worker: Would a “Tony” please come to the front desk?

Tony, arriving at the desk: Hello, is there a problem?

Store Worker, pointing to Peter and Y/n: I believe they belong to you?

Peter and Y/n, simultaneously: We got lost.

Tony: I didn’t even bring you guys here with me—

[dwindlinghaze]

I need peter fluff. like i need reader to be having a bad day and lashing out at peter and him not getting mad and just comforting her<3

best

(peter parker x reader)

contents: fluff, unintentionally mean reader, peter just being really kind and hearted.

a/n: oh how i miss writing for him :( hope u enjoyed this anon!! tysm for requesting 🫧🫧🤍

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

everyone has bad days. awful, exhausting, horrible days. sometimes they have a way to cope with it too. you tried though. tried to keep the boiling emotions under your ribcage, trying so hard not to let your bad mood ruins your boyfriend's beautiful day.

peter was the best. he was the best to you. but right now, just the mere shuffles of his legs sends distress through your veins.

trying to keep your calm, you drank you water. gulping it loudly with a sour face in hopes of him understanding what you're trying to imply.

he didn't look up from his magazines. the pages turned along with an ear scratching sound.

"ow, i just gave myself a paper cut!" peter shrieked, holding his index finger in front of his face and yours.

"you're not five, it'll heal," you huffed. in usual days, you would help him even with the smallest things.

"what's wrong?"

"nothing's wrong! you just got a paper cut wow big deal. the world has fallen off its axis and we're spinning in the opposite direction!"

"love-"

"no stop! that co-worker at my workplace took a day off this week so i had to replace her for seven days, meaning that i have to work double while still having the same paycheque as the others. eloise kept asking me about the presentation that we're going to have on monday even though i've said it more than a million times that i will finish it before friday. and the thing is, she is not helping me with it! my professor just assigned two more additional assignments for me this week. my shoes got dirt on the mud. i dropped our matching bracelets on the gutter because some kids were running around. wendy asked me to order pizza for the both of us while i was catching up on my work. i ordered it and when i finished, i came outside to only see that she left nothing for me. absolutely nothing, not even a crumb! a paper cut is the least harmful thing right now. i'd trade all of this for a paper cut, stop whining about your microscopic problem."

you were now crying, the weight of this crushing your spine and shoulders. peter was there. of course he is.

he caressed your arms, massaging them slowly as he let you cry, gently bringing your head to his shoulder.

"hey," he whispered, "i'll help you with everything okay. only if you let me."

"i can't. all of that is my responsibility. i'm not going to pass on a weight to you."

"we're together for a reason. whatever you're feeling, i feel them too. whatever's weighing you down, i'll come and help lighten them up."

"sorry for lashing on you," you sniffed, looking at him wistfully.

"no no. you really needed that right? i know," he spoke as he kissed your nose softly. "i can't really help you with your job but i'm going to help you make the presentation, and i'll do the assignment for you, i can get you new shoes or clean them up, i'll get us new matching bracelets, i'll order us both pizzas and i won't eat them all."

"pete, no you can't-"

"remember what i said? if something's weighing you down, i'm here to lighten them up," he gave you the loveliest smile the world has ever known.

"thank you, love. i'm so sorry, let me put a bandaid on your finger, come!" you stood up.

"it'll heal," he laughed.

"i just want to help you back as a way to thank you," you smiled.

[cricket-reader]

His Everything

Masterlist | A03 | Wattpad | Recommendations | Inbox

Summary: Peter freaks out when you don’t answer his calls. He finds you handcuffed to a chair as Spider-Man. You tell him things afterwards, making Peter question how good of a boyfriend he really is.

Warnings: language, torture, kidnapping, mentions of death, crying

Word Count: 1480

Prompt: "It's not as bad as it looks.” Handcuffs | Swelling | Flinch

A/N: Day 5 of June of Doom by @juneofdoom (Set after NWH but no spoilers)

Your wrists throbbed within the unforgiving grip of the handcuffs, their weight a constant reminder of your vulnerability. The swelling around your wrists made every movement an agonizing ordeal. As you tugged against the restraints, a muffled whimper escaped your lips.

You had been taken whilst on a walk. While you wished you could have been more prepared or maybe wished you had seen it coming, nothing could change the fact that it was so sudden. Unlike in the books you had read, you didn’t have any sort of premonition that warned you against going out for that walk. There were no warning signs or red flags blatantly obvious. It had happened without any sort of warning. One moment you were casually strolling through the streets of New York, next you were being knocked unconscious by a man wearing all black in the middle of the day.

How someone didn’t see the spectacle go down baffled you. Perhaps they did see it; they just didn’t get involved. That was a thing you learned in your psychology class: the bystander effect. Only now were you fully realising how shitty it was.

So there you were, sitting in a damp, musty cell with no hope of rescue. You hoped that maybe your boyfriend would notice your absence and call the police once he couldn’t get ahold of you. But you knew he’d probably think that you were just busy or didn’t want to talk. He knew that school got tough sometimes, so he never blamed you if you couldn’t talk to him. Hence it would probably take a long time for anyone to find you.

You flinched as the door opened, wishing that the ground would swallow you whole. You didn’t want to die, not with Peter waiting for you at his house. He was such a good person and he didn’t deserve to worry about some nobody like you as you knew he would. Sometimes he was too good for his own good. Something you didn’t know the full weight of quite yet.

“I hear you’re close to Spider-Man,” the captor said, an ugly sneer on his face.

Brows furrowed, you replied, “I’ve never even met him once. He has never saved me or anything.”

“You’re lying.”

“I swear I’m not lying!”

“Bullshit.”

You tried to press yourself further into your chair when he approached you. Your gut was turning and breaths were short. Who is this crazy man and what does he want with you?

Your head is snapped to the side as the back of his hand makes contact with your face. Two marks on your face start bleeding where his bulky rings had hit you. “You better start talking.”

“I don’t know anything, I swear!”

He scoffed as he geared up for a punch. His fist hit you near your right rib cage. You doubled over and groaned. He had a mean swing. Those stupid rings weren’t helping any.

He grabbed you by the hair and yanked your head back up. You cried out, hoping maybe someone would hear you. His fist began driving itself to your body, anywhere he could reach. Your screams and cries did nothing to make him stop, if anything, it only made the twisted man continue his relentless abuse.

Just when you were sure that you could take no more, the glass window to the room shattered. You screamed, and you weren’t sure if it was from the terror or from the last blow he delivered to your stomach.

In an instant, white webs were flown across the room. Guards and your tormentor were wrapped up in the all too familiar spidery substance you had seen on the news. In all your years, you never thought you’d be able to meet a superhero. You just wish it was on better terms.

Spider-Man rushed to your aid, calling out your name in an anguished voice that sounded a bit familiar. Your head drooped, exhaustion tearing you down. You could hear Spider-Man talking to you, telling you everything was going to be okay. You saw him reach for the phone, presumably to call for help.

You grabbed his wrist, not caring that the handcuffs were digging further into your skin. With a weak voice, you muttered, “no ambulance, just take me to the hospital.”

You saw his big white eyes narrow. “I can’t afford an ambulance. Hell, I’ll barely afford the medical bill,” you chucked at your own expense, stopping immediately because it hurt too bad. “If you don’t want to bring me call my boyfriend. He’ll pick me up.”

The hero’s eyes widened again and he rapidly shook his head. “No, no, I can get you to the hospital.”

He searched the man’s pockets, trying to find a key for those pesky handcuffs. He was unsuccessful. Sighing, he decided he’d just have to break them. There was no time to waste. You could be seriously hurt.

When the handcuffs were removed from your wrists, you practically cried out in joy. You rubbed your swollen wrists, wincing at how tender whey were.

“Let’s get you outta here, yeah?” Spider-Man muttered as he helped you up. You limped alongside him down the stairs to the street.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” You had asked him. He seemed so familiar. His eyes widened.

“You’ve uh… probably seen me before, y’know… as Spider-Man,” he stumbled over his words. You almost laughed at how he tried to make his voice sound deeper. It was adorable. It reminded you of something that Peter would do.

You gasped, “Peter!”

Spider-Man’s head whipped towards you. “I have to tell him I’m okay, that’s my boyfriend. He might be worried about me.”

“We can call him when you get to the hospital okay?” Spider-Man gently told her as they got in a cab that he had hailed down. Peter told him to drive to the nearest hospital as fast as he could.

“Okay, sure… I’m sure he probably hasn’t noticed anyway. Y’know I was goin’ over to his apartment to surprise him. He’s been workin’ so hard on school and I jus’ wanted to make him feel better. He’s been so stressed lately.” You pouted. “Now I s’pose he’s gonna be even more stressed.”

Tears came to your eyes. You wished you could say it was all from the pain, but a part of you knew that you were sad that your boyfriend would only have more on his plate with you in the hospital.

“Y��know what… maybe I shouldn’t call him. I don’ wanna burden him any more than he already is.”

Underneath the mask, Peter was crying. He couldn’t respond to you. He knew that you’d pick up on the wobble of his voice if he tried. How could you think such things? You were the most important thing in his life. More important than his classes, more important than his Spider-Man duties. You were his everything.

How could his everything think that she was a burden? It pained his heart to know that you thought that way.

Clearing his throat, he said “I think you should tell him. He’s probably worried out of his mind right now.” He wasn’t wrong. Peter was scared shitless. You never opened up like this to strangers and your head was lolling onto his shoulder.

“C’mon, stay with me, baby. Don’t do this to me!” He pleaded. He couldn’t let someone else leave him. He couldn’t watch another important person in his life die. He didn’t want you to join the list of loved ones he had lost.

Peter didn’t even care that you or the cab driver knew he was crying now. He had every right to cry when the girl he loved was falling into unconsciousness.

“C’mon, baby. Be strong for me, yeah? I know you can do it. You’re so strong.”

Those were the last words you were able to hear before you blacked out.

Upon waking up, you saw your red-eyed boyfriend hunched over in a nearby seat. “Peter?” Your voice came out groggy and dry, but it got his attention. He cried out your name as he ran to your side. Tears were falling from his eyes as he held your hand and called for the nurse.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m okay, Peter. It's not as bad as it looks. I’m fine really.”

Truthfully you didn’t feel much pain, but that was probably the drugs they had you hooked up on.

“Please don’t leave me, please. I love you too much. Please don’t leave,” he pleaded, like a broken record. You knew your boyfriend had abandonment issues, but you’d never really seen them as bad as in that moment. “It’s okay, Peter. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re my everything you know that?”

You just nodded and rubbed your thumb over his hand. “I know, baby. I know.”

[thatboisus]

me logging onto tumblr after consuming a new piece of media

[bethsvrse]

me staring at my ceiling after y/n does the most FLABBERGASTING thing ever

[natti-ice]

18+ mdni

that reality check hitting after reading smut

[rana030]

Pov: you're reading fanfiction and suddenly y/n starts to call him daddy

[m1sa22aman3]

When there isn’t 20 new fics for me to read after refreshing the tag (I just finished reading everything and have absolutely no patience)

[fallsndreamsalone]

[aphrcdites]

the bond between a girl and their favorite fictional man is both an unstoppable force and an immovable object

[that1geek06]

"English isn't my-"

Hush now my friend, and let me read the absolute beauty of a fic that you have bestowed this world and humiliated the first English speakers with

[pixiexdusts-world]

Your camera roll if you dated Peter Parker

[uramakimochi]

me for the past week and i'm so fucking maddd

STOP👏TAGGING👏XREADER👏IF👏YOU👏USE👏AN👏OC👏NOBODY👏 FUCKING👏ASKED👏FOR👏THAT👏OKAY???

The wrong thing is not the fact that you write a story with an oc, no, that's not the real problem, really.

IT'S JUST THE FACT THAT YOU USE THE WRONG TAG SO YOU HOPE MORE PEOPLE READ YOUR STORY. BUT BELIEVE ME IT'S JUST FUCKING ANNOYING 'CAUSE WE AREN'T ABLE TO FIND THE RIGHT FICS IF YOU KEEP DOING THIS!!!

There are people who like to read more stories with ocs than reader inserts, so use the fucking right tag go reach that community and stop spamming your stories among ours.

I don't think you get it but, you know, the purpose of fanfics with reader insert is to make the reader imagine her/himself as the mc of the story. The best part of these fics is the fact that EVERYONE can be included in them.

SO WHY THE FUCK DO YOU HAVE TO RUIN THEM BY MAKING THE MC A PERSON THAT LOOKS COMPLETELY DIFFERENT FROM THE READER AND EVEN HAS A NAME THAT IS NOT THEIRS?

Not to be dramatic but i hate y'all.

And the fact that it's always the same fandoms and we all know who we're talking about...

[cricket-reader]

Helpless

Masterlist | A03 | Wattpad | Recommendations | Inbox

Summary: you and Peter get kidnapped. You take the punishment for him, and Peter is heartbroken

Warnings: language, torture, kidnapping

Word Count: 890

Prompt: “I can handle it.” | Kidnapping | Fracture | Struggle

A/N: Day 3 of June of Doom by @juneofdoom

The night was dark as you and Peter Parker walked down the dimly lit streets of New York City. You had just gotten done seeing a movie at a movie theatre and were both giggling your way home. Little did you both know that danger lurked just around the corner.

A van screeched to a halt beside you and Peter. Before you guys could react, masked figures jumped out, grabbing you forcefully. Your head got banged on the van as they tried to push you in.

"Help! Let us go! Help!" you shouted, struggling against your captors. But your efforts were in vain as a cloth was placed over your mouth, causing you to lose consciousness.

When you regained consciousness, you found yourself in a dimly lit room, your hands bound together with cold metal cuffs. The throbbing pain in your head reminded you of the force with which you had been struck. Panic and fear flooded your senses as you surveyed your surroundings.

Across the room, you noticed your boyfriend, also bound and unconscious, slumped against a wall. Relief washed over you, knowing he was still alive and unmarked by blood or bruises. You watched Peter groggily regain consciousness.

"Peter, are you okay?" you whispered, concern lacing your voice.

"I'm... I'm fine," he replied weakly, his voice strained.

The captors, dressed in black attire, masks and all, entered the room. One of them sneered, relishing the power they held over their captives.

As the captor approached, his sadistic intentions evident, you summoned all your courage and locked eyes with him.

"Leave him alone," you hissed, your voice trembling but filled with unwavering determination.

The captor's laughter filled the room, mocking your defiance. "Oh, how valiant of you, my dear. But your words mean nothing to me."

He motioned to his henchmen, who closed in on Peter. Panic surged within you, and with a surge of adrenaline, you fought against your restraints. You couldn’t let your boyfriend get hurt.

“Please, do anything you want! Just leave him alone!” you cried out. In hindsight, those probably weren’t the best words to use in a room full of men, but you weren’t thinking straight and were desperate.

“Anything?” he smirked, slowly twisting around to look you up and down. Peter must have caught onto what he was implying before your jumbled mind could.

“No! Don’t you dare! I swear if you lay a hand on her I’ll—” Peter yelled, thrashing in his restraints. He’d rather die than let them have you. You, his precious girlfriend that didn’t deserve any of this.

“Shut him up! Make sure he doesn’t look away.” The captor turns to Peter, addressing him. “This is what you get for meddling with things you don’t understand.”

Peter’s eyes went wide as a resounding smack sounded in the room. Tears pooled in his eyes as he heard your shocked whimper. He struggled some more to no avail. He was helpless. He had to watch his girlfriend, the love of his life, get tortured. “It’s okay, Peter. I can handle it,” you all but whispered. Just loud enough that you knew he’d be able to hear it.

He felt like an absolute failure as he watched the men put their hands on you.

Your cries were drowned out by Peter's screams as he watched you get beaten. Hot, crimson liquid seeped from your wounds. You kept trying to break free, but you were losing strength. His heart sank even deeper at the thought of the possibility that you wouldn’t make it out alive. It hurt him.

Peter wasn’t the one getting tortured—so why did it feel like someone had stabbed him in the heart, twisting it violently? And why did it feel like his guts had been torn to shreds?

Peter wasn’t the type to murder. He never wanted to ever kill someone. That being said, seeing those hands on you made him think things he had never thought before.

One evening, while the captors were away, Peter finally managed to loosen his restraints. His wrists might have had deep cuts on them, but it was worth it for you. Anything for you. Peter quickly freed you, your weakened body struggling to stand.

"Sweetheart, we need to find a way out of here," Peter whispered, his voice filled with both determination and concern.

Hand in hand, you both silently navigated the dimly lit corridors, evading the patrolling guards.

Together you found the nearest town. Tony had flown personally to retrieve you both. You both received the best medical attention money could buy. Not wanting to be separated, you both managed to get Mr. Stark to put your beds in the same room in the med bay. Your connection was more than just friendship—it was an unbreakable bond, woven with trust and a shared purpose.

Peter had apologised until his face turned blue, having been able to get out of the hospital bed sooner than you—having endured a fracture, multiple abrasions, bruises like no other, and the list didn’t stop there.

He hated the fact that they hurt you to get to him. It was eating at him.

Nevertheless, you continuously reassured him that you didn’t blame him. That he did all he could and that was enough for you. As long as you both were safe and sound, you were happy.

[thatboisus]

reading a good ass fanfic up until it said something that just makes you want to stop reading

[percabething]

when the fandom is so small that everybody knows everybody