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book-place · 2 years

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Gift Giving

Warnings: mentions of explosions, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Avengers x reader platonic

Request: Hello! I have a (small) request to make! So avengers x teen! Reader who I super shy and jumpy but super laid back and calm at the same time. They had joined the team a month ago and they've barely made any progress in getting to know the team. They (the team) have tried before but it's hard to have a conversation when only one person is talking (it also makes u super nervous and they don't wanna scare you). Anyways, it's ur first time spending Christmas with them and you wanna be nice and buy all of them presents. But there's a problem; you barely know these people and you don't want to get them anything they don't like. So you end up building up some courage to talk to Peter about what you should buy them. Tbh you just found him less intimidating. He helps you out with it eventhough he doesn't know much about them, he tried his best. And you both bond in-between the one week you spent you spent together buying the team gifts

Request by: @ladyagagaslefttoe

*not my gif*

Summary: You seek out the help of someone unexpected for advice on a certain holiday problem you were having

A/N: Welcome to day 5 of Book Places 12 Days of Christmas Celebration

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

Eleven words, that’s it. That’s all you needed to say. It wasn’t a big deal, you just needed to suck it up and do it.

You’re an avenger for gods sake, how could you go out into the world all the time, fighting off literal threats to civilization, but you couldn’t even muster up enough courage to ask the least intimidating member of your team a question?

You had been apart of the team for about a month, and despite their various attempts, you had barely said anything to them unless absolutely necessary. Every time they tried to have a conversation with you, you would shut down, get nervous.

To your surprise, they hadn’t even seemed a little discouraged by your actions, if anything, they tried even harder to bond with you.

You supposed that was why you found it vital to get them gifts for the upcoming holiday, becuase they hadn’t given up on you.

It wasn’t like you didn’t want to talk back and get closer with them, you did, but you supposed you were just too shy. It was no fault of yours, though, it was just the way you were, and you could tell your team was beginning to realize that.

Sucking in a sharp breath, you reached your fist up and knocked on the door twice before you could lose whatever little courage you had been able to muster up.

There were a few sounds of crashing coming from within the room, causing you to flinch slightly, only for a disheveled looking Peter to swing the door open a moment later.

He was looking over his shoulder at the what looked like a science project gone wrong as he began speaking, “Sorry about that,” He breathed out, “I think I used the wrong chemicals-“

He cut himself off suddenly as his gaze finally met your nervous one, and his eyes went wide.

“Y/n.” He breathed out before immediately moving to the side and extending an arm out, “Come in, come in,” He rushed out.

After only a small amount of hesitation, you stepped past the boy and entered his room, glancing around guardedly.

“What can I do for you?” Peter asked after a moment of awkward silence, rocking back and forth on his heels as he clapped his hands together once.

You cleared your throat a little bit, trying to get out the dreaded eleven words, “What… what do you think I should get the team for Christmas?”

His mouth snapped shut, all the reasons he thought of that could be an explanation for why you were there flew out of his mind, “You- you want to get them gifts?” He softened at the realization.

Slowly, you nodded your head, cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

He smiled gently, “I can go shopping with you, if you’d like.” He offered quietly.

Your head snapped up and your eyes went wider than you thought was possible at his suggestion and you choked on air a little bit, “You- you mean it?” You asked.

Peter nodded his head as an excited grin grew on his face, “I mean, I don’t know very much about them myself, but I would love to help still.”

Your cheeks grew red with gratitude, “Thank you,” You whispered, staring at your shoes that you were shuffling back and forth.

“What’re friends for?” He asked with a grin.

“F-friends?” The word slipped past your lips in astonishment.

His smile only widened, “Of course,” He said.

For the first time since you entered the room, a small, ghost of a smile graced your lips.

-•-

The elevator door dinged, and everyone looked up, expecting Peter to step out alone. Imagine their surprise when you walked out right next to him, looking more confident then they had ever seen you.

The small smile that you wore on your face immediately disappeared and you seemed to fold back into your shell when you saw all of them staring.

“Hey, Y/n,” Clint greeted from where he was lounging on the couch.

You gave him a small nod in return, turning your uncertain eyes to Peter, who gave you a smile and nod of reassurance, putting a hand on the small of your back and leading you to stand in front of all of them.

Nat and Steve extachanged a curious glance before turning their attention back to you.

“What’s up?” Tony spoke aloud what everyone was thinking.

Peter cleared his throat, gesturing towards you, “N/n has something for you.”

Everyone’s eyebrows shot up at the nickname, but turned towards you expectantly nonetheless.

“I-um-“ You stammered and Peter reached out to squeeze your hand gently, causing you to take a deep breath to ground yourself once more, “I got you all something for Christmas.” You spoke with more confidence then they had ever heard from you.

A couple jaws dropped in shock as Thor choked on his drink before grinning, “Presents?” He asked in childlike giddiness.

You nodded holding up a shopping bag before scurrying around to each of your teammates and handing them things that you had bought specifically for each of them.

“Oh, Y/n,” Nat breathed out, looking down at fuzzy socks that were her favorite color, “Thank you.” She said genuinely.

You only nodded your head meekly before moving onto Thor, to whom you presented a box of pop tarts, and he nearly wept with joy.

On it went for each of your teammates, them being so greatful for the thought out gifts you and Peter had gone out of your way to get for them.

“I don’t think I’ll be doing this again, you guys are hard to shop for.” The teasing words slipped out of your mouth without even thinking about it.

Everybody’s jaws hit the floor.

“Did…” Tony choked out, “Was- was that a joke? Did you just make a joke?”

Your cheeks automatically flushed in embarrassment, but before you could shy away again, large grins broke out on everyone's face, “It suits you,” Steve said softly, “You should do it more often.”

Peter came up behind you and rubbed your shoulder in congratulations, “Merry Christmas.”

Everyone echoed it back to him, even you as you reached up and squeezed his hand once in appreciation, knowing that things would be different from now on because you were now comfortable around your team.

We Are Groot 🤎- @lovanitu @jvdethirlwall @ineedmorefanfics2 @sambucky8 @spidyyparker @irethepotato @femalemarvelself @mukbee @its-hell @ip747 @i-writes-things @popfishjr @mitsuki-murakami

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ageofevermore · 10 months

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♡‧ ⁺🎄🧣⋆◞ a complete list of all of my holiday inspired fics, blurbs, and aus

[ ꕤ ] — angst

— wandanat

UNDER THE MISTLETOE [ 4.6k ]

when you believe your girlfriends to be dead, the last thing you want to do is celebrate christmas without them. and when i’m feeling alone, you remind me of home, oh baby, baby merry christmas

—

HOME FOR CHRISTMAS [ 2.7k ] ꕤ

two years after losing natasha, the only thing you count on is having wanda home for christmas

— kate bishop

BETTER THEN CHRISTMAS LIGHTS [ 1.9k ]

you’ve been with kate for years, but on your first christmas in your new apartment, she decides to make you hers forever

— peter parker

HEAVY WITHOUT YOU [ 1.8k ] ꕤ

death is heavy on your mind this christmas season, but it’s even heavier on peters.

—

JUST LIKE YOU [ 0.5k ]

new york’s been through a dry winter, but when it finally does start to snow, your little one is thoroughly conflicted with the white ground

#wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #wandanat #peter parker #wanda maximoff fluff #natasha romanoff fluff #wandanat fluff #peter parker fluff #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat x reader #peter parker x reader #christmas

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backtothefanfiction · 10 months

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One Last Date For Christmas | PART ONE: An Arrangement At The Christmas Party

Summary: Another year, The same Christmas party and holiday hook up... or is it?

Warnings: 18+ Only, Smut (oral M & F receiving, p in v, mild dirty talk with Christmas references), Mentions of Cancer/Death, Fake Dating, Fuck Buddies to Lovers, this is basically Hallmark/Netflix Christmas movie vibes

Word Count: 5.9K+

A/N: Okay, so I've been feeling crumby lately and really need a boost, so although we took a poll and it was decided this whole story would go up as one piece at the same time, I need the motivation and have had a crumby week mentally and need a boost. So here is part 1. If you do enjoy PLEASE LEAVE ME FEEDBACK!!! I am like Tinkerbell, if I don't get attention I will die haha. But seriously my mental health needs the kind words for energy so please take a moment to share some if you like this part and not just like it. Anyway... ENJOY!!!

Another year, another fancy corporate business party Peter was obliged to attend due to his job. It had become such a regular routine over these last 7 years J. Jonah Jameson didn’t even bother asking if he was available to come anymore, just automatically emailed over the details so he could attend.

Peter couldn’t completely complain. He got free drinks and fancy food for the night. I mean in reality he got to act just like any other guest, despite the camera he had around his neck for the night. And instead of paying to be there, he was instead getting paid to be there. Sure it was only an extra couple hundred bucks, but at this time of year it really did make all the difference.

Being a freelance photographer only made him so much a year, especially when the rest of his time was spent moonlighting as the local superhero which didn’t pay a thing. Not that he couldn’t have made some money as a public figure. A couple grand here to endorse a few products. A donation of thanks or two from business owners or generous members of the community there. All of which had been options that he had turned down. That wasn’t who Spider-Man was and definitely not who he wanted Spider-Man to be. And so at almost 40 years old, this was Peter’s life.

No wife. No kids. Not even a pet, because he couldn’t commit to spending enough time at home in his tiny run down box of a studio apartment, to look after it. He sometimes brought girls home, he did have needs after all, but no matter how interested they had been in him, he’d never let himself get attached. After Gwen he would never get attached again.

The only one to ever even come close was you. He had met you 5 years ago now at this very event. Just like him, you always felt like a fish out of water at these parties, despite always being on the guest list. Your Father was one of the big business benefactors of the party and ever since the divorce you had become his regular plus one.

Just like Peter you were a chronic singleton, always too busy traveling for work to be able to sustain an actual relationship, despite your Mother trying her best every time you were home to set you up with some poor soul. She just didn’t get it. You didn’t believe in marriage anymore as most of them ended in divorce, your parents marriage and even two of your Uncle’s marriages prime examples alone; and as for children? You had decided at the age of 13 you wouldn’t have kids and no matter how many times your Mother, Grandmother or Aunt Sarah told you, you would change your mind, you hadn’t. If anything the birth of your brother’s kids had only cemented things more.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like your niece and nephew, you were just always glad you could pass them back off to your brother and his wife after a few hours of their shrieking play and demands for cookies and ice cream, while fighting over what to watch on the telly. No, you had never wanted kids and you never would. You had however always wanted to get a cat, but until you changed jobs or just simply didn’t have to travel for work anymore, that would just remain a lovely little dream for the future.

Peter always arrived to the party early. After all, he was getting paid by the hour, so the longer he was there taking photos, the more money he could claim from the Daily Bugle finance department on Monday. He aimlessly wandered around taking photos of the venue and the table settings and the odd entering guest as people arrived. He helped himself to horderves off of shiny platters and the odd glass of champagne as he worked, seamlessly floating through the crowd, formally stopping people every now and again for more posed group shots, other times just taking candid photos of people mingling. He took the occasional booming order from J. Jonah Jameson, “Hey Parker! Make sure you get a shot of me with the Mayor. Parker! Come here and take a photo of me and Mrs Perez! Parker! Take a picture of me and my wife!”

“Yes, sir.” Peter would respond with a smile. Usually you were here by now to laugh at the way he followed the head of the Daily Bugle around like his lap dog, but as of yet you still hadn’t arrived. Then a horrible thought crossed Peter’s mind, ‘what if you weren’t coming this year.’ He had seen your Father walking about, had even taken a couple of photos of him with various business partners and city officials, but as of yet there had been no sign of you.

Peter checked his watch again hoping you were just running late, but the closer it got to 8.30pm and the start of the meal portion of the night, he started to give up hope. He knew you were busy, always flying between Tokyo, Milan, London and Paris for work; but you were always usually back home for the holidays. He was just about to check his watch again when you came through the door like a whirlwind in red.

He watched you like a Spider sizing up his prey as you made a beeline for your Father. You gave him a rushed greeting and an apologetic kiss to the cheek, before you followed him and the rest of his group to their table, placed closer to the small makeshift stage that had been erected at one end of the long window lined room. He kept his focus on you as you took your seat, your father pushing your chair in for you as you turned to greet one of the other women at the table a couple seats away from you. That was, until J. Jonah Jameson’s booming voice called him away again.

“Parker! You’re over here with us!” He barked as he ushered Peter over to a table on the other side of the room. He was just able to lock eyes with you and give you a friendly smile before he took his seat. “I’ve sat you on this side so you can get the wife’s good side.” Jameson continued to say.

There was a couple of speeches and awards before the food was served. Peter was pleased to find that he was in fact in a good vantage point in which he could take pictures of the stage this year without having to move. He also had a clear sightline to you too, his lens unconsciously moving in your direction every few shots then back again.

Peter had chosen the steak and hasselback potatoes for his dinner with a rich chocolate pudding for dessert. When he finished his meal, he dismissed himself from the table, as he traditionally did, to go around the tables and take a few more candid shots of people before taking a break at the bar.

“I’ll take an old fashioned, please.” Your familiar voice suddenly came from beside him. “I’m sorry I was late.” you said as you leaned into him as if conspiratorially. “My flight got delayed.”

“Where were you coming from this time?” Peter asked as he took a sip from his own drink.

“Boston.” You said with a sigh. It definitely hadn’t been the answer he was expecting and his quizzical look at you said as much. “I was visiting my Mother. Her and her new partner Brad moved there a few months back to be closer to his grandchildren.” You explained.

“I’m guessing that means you got away with not being set up on a blind date this visit.” Peter fished, knowing your Mother’s habits and routines well after these last 5 years of annual hookups.

“You’d think so.” You said as you took a sip of your stiff drink, just to emphasize the drama of it all. “Turns out Maggie’s teacher is single and available.” you say with mock enthusiasm.

“Maggie?” Peter questions.

“One of Brad’s grandchildren.” you fill in with another sigh and eyebrow raise. “I wish she’d just give it a rest, you know?” You pause as you take another sip of your drink before you tell him, “I’m thinking of coming up with a fake boyfriend just to get her off my back. But then I know she’ll be all like ‘when do I get to meet him?’” you say doing an exaggerated impersonation of your Mother’s voice.

“Yeah, I think about doing the same thing with Aunt May sometimes, but I’d hate lying to her.” Peter confided.

“How is your Aunt?” you ask. The one blessing of only seeing each other once a year meant there were always things for you both to talk about and catch up on.

You watch as his face falls, his eyes turning sad as he looks into his drink. “Umm, they’re not good actually. We found out this year she has stage 4 breast cancer. The doctor said this is probably gonna be her last Christmas.” He struggles to look at you.

“Peter, I’m so sorry.” you say, mustering up as much empathy as you can as your hand instinctively comes to rub at his back. “Is there nothing they can do?”

“They said they could try a few different treatments but it wasn’t guaranteed to work and May ultimately decided that… Well she said that she’s lived to a good age and if this is how she is meant to go, this is how she is meant to go.” He paused, blinking hard as he continued to stare at the liquid in his glass. “She said I was a grown man and didn’t need her anymore.” He let out a small unsatisfied chuckle that wreaked of denial, before he finally looked at you again. “I just… I just feel guilty, you know?”

“What for?” You asked him.

“It’s just. I know she was always holding onto this hope that I’d meet someone. That I’d end up finding someone and settling down. Live a life like her and Ben did.”

“But that’s not what you want from your life?” you question him now unsure, as you finally sit yourself on the bar stool next to him. “I mean, if you wanted that, isn’t that what you would have done? Gone out, met a girl. Settled down. You can’t be someone you’re not just to please others.”

“But it was what I wanted.” he suddenly confides. “And that’s why I feel guilty because she knows that. When I first introduced her to Gwen, I said, ‘that’s the girl I’m going to marry Aunt May.’” he says with gusto, like he’s saying it exactly how he had said it to her, before his body deflates again.

“But things change. People change. We’re allowed to change Peter.”

“I know, but… she just, I know she never gave up hope.”

“You know what they say about hope?” You say.

“It breeds eternal misery,” he bristles.

“No.” You chastise. “It’s like the sun, if you only believe in it when you can see it, you’ll never make it through the night.”

Peter’s brow furrows as his head turns back to you. “Did you just quote Star Wars to me?”

“Princess Leia.” you smile.

“God I love you.” he says casually with a smile.

“I know.” you continue to beam back before you raise your glass towards him. “For Aunt May?”

“For Aunt May.” he agrees before clinking your glass with his own.

You both creep away a little before midnight, catching a cab back to your apartment. You always went back to your apartment. Peter said it was because he wanted you to be comfortable and said it was more homelier than his place, but the truth was, Peter was ashamed to take you back to his own apartment. It looked like a dingy run down squat or some really dodgy student housing in comparison to your place.

He didn’t want to kid himself, he knew he was definitely punching above his weight a little when it came to you, not because he necessarily thought he was ugly, but more simply because you had more money than him. You’d never made him feel inferior for it. In fact you’d always wanted to help him by offering to put him in contact with some galleries so he could get more of his work out there. Maybe make some extra cash by selling some of his photos as art for the rich and wealthy, not just to a local paper, but Peter had never had the guts to take you up on the offer. It would make him feel indebted to you and throw the balance of your relationship off even more than it somewhat already was.

“Did you choose red because it’s my favourite color or just for the festivities?” He nibbled on your ear as his fingers ran across the velvet skirt of the dress, dragging it up to your thigh as he pressed himself against your back.

You hadn’t bothered turning on any other lights than the Christmas tree, before you stopped to take a moment to look out your window at the city. Christmas in New York was your favorite time of year. Every year to mark the occasion, you would go down to Rockefeller Plaza, grab a hot chocolate and watch as they turned on the lights. As kids you would go ice skating there. Less so now you were adults, your brother and his own kids had their own tradition of skating in Central Park on Christmas Eve, but some years you would still partake.

“I chose it for the season.” You sighed, your body relaxing back into him, head resting on his shoulder as he kissed his way down your neck.

“My festive little elf.” He teased as his fingers continued to work up the hem of your dress until they could reach your panties, which you had in fact bought new and chosen with Peter in mind.

“I even brought presents.” You plaid along teasingly.

Your breathing hitched slightly as the pads of his fingers dragged over your lace covered clit.

“Really? For me?” You could feel him smiling into the exposed skin of your collarbone.

“Mhmm.” You hum. “Maybe, you should unwrap me.” You tease back.

“Mmm.” He hums back deeply in delight as he turns you around to face him. The hand that was just ghosting at your centre, now wraps firmly around the back of your neck, as he smashes your rouge stained lips into his.

His other hand begins pawing at the velvety fabric of your dress again before he’s pulling his face away from you, his grin growing too big and you can’t help but give a satisfying smile back as you notice how your lipstick has transferred from your lips to his, marking him as yours for the evening. Your hand reaches for his and you begin taking steps backwards, pulling him in the direction of your bedroom and awaiting bed.

Your room is a slight mess from your hasty packing before you left for Boston and your equally hasty unpacking upon your return. You’d just had enough time to get home and get changed, rushing your make up and hair, before you left to go to the party. Your suitcase lay open on the floor, some of the contents lay spilling out from where you had hunted around for your makeup bag. The little pink bag from Victoria Secret sat upside down on the floor beside it. Peter spies it the moment he enters the room.

He feigns shock, “Did you buy this for me?” He teases as he picks up the bag.

“Don’t get too excited Parker, they were having a sale.”

“I don’t care.” He says with a boyish grin, despite his 39 years of age. “Come here and let me see.”

You smile at him as you begin to step closer to him before calling out into the room, “Alexa, turn on mood lighting.”

His eyebrows raise as a lamp in the corner of the room turns on, illuminating your bedroom in a magenta hue. “Mood lighting huh?”

“Do you wanna be able to see your Christmas gift or not?” You sass back with a hand on your hip.

“I mean, I’ve always thought of you as my Christmas present, regardless of what you wear.” He says as his fingers begin to grab for you again and pull you into him.

“Next year I won’t bother then.”

“Oh no, you’ve made it a thing now. I’m gonna expect this, every- single- year- from now on.” He says between kisses across your cheek and down your neck and upper chest. You begin to giggle and shriek in delight as his lips gently nibble at your skin. “Mmm. Come on then. Let’s see what you got for me.” He says ripping himself away from you so you have the space to reach behind you for the zipper to your dress.

The dress begins to relax its hold on your body, slowly exposing the black strapless lace bra to Peter before you slide the dress down the rest of your body to show off the matching lacey bikini briefs. You carefully step out of the puddle that now is the red velvet dress on your floor, your ankles only wobbling slightly as you still stand in your heels for him to take in the full sight.

He pauses for a moment silently taking you in before he gives a small nod. “Yes. Yes, this will do. Excuse me a moment while I go and write my thank you letter to San-“

“Peter.” You whine.

“Oh come on, don’t be bratty with me now.” He says jokingly as he steps closer and wraps you in his arms again.

“I thought you liked it when I was bratty.” You joke back as your arms wrap around his neck.

“Nope. You become completely intolerable and insufferable and…” You roll your eyes as he continues to list words, but nonetheless, begin to snake your arms from around his neck, trailing them down his chest as you begin to get down on your knees before him.

You begin to work open the button of his jeans, freeing his semi hard cock from its confines. He only stops his fake monologue about you acting like a brat when you take his length into your mouth and his hand involuntarily reaches out for the side of your head as he sighs.

The only sounds that fill the room now are his small gasps and moans and your saliva slick lips around his cock. One of your hands braces itself on his thigh, whilst the other works the rest of his shaft your mouth won’t reach.

You pull off him with a sloppy pop of your lips and Peter groans before you begin to circle the tip of his cock with your tongue and he jumps away from you with sensitivity, suddenly worried he’d blow his load too soon if you continue like that. It makes you giggle.

His fingers reach around the flesh of your bicep and he pulls you up off the floor before pulling you into him, his head nuzzling into your neck, lips and teeth nibbling and teasing at your skin and driving you crazy. He’d worked out that you liked that on the second Christmas you had slept together. He loved the way it made you sigh but also giggle and shriek when the sensation grew too much.

“Ahhh Peter.” you cried out with a high pitched moan.

He reluctantly broke himself away from you and the intoxicating smell of your favorite perfume so you could latch your mouth onto his, a satisfied smile struggling to be contained on your lips. He can’t help but smile back.

“Peter!” you shriek and giggle as he reaches around to pick you up and drop you back onto the covers of your bed.

Your hands get lost in his hair as he begins kissing his way down your chest. Your stomach involuntarily twitches as his lips move across it and the way his hands reach for your hips to forcefully hold you in place sends you reeling, a wave of arousal soaking your panties. His lips skip over your underwear, instead kissing at the inside of your thigh as his hands begin to relax on your hips, his fingers curling under the waistband of your underwear, ready to pull them down.

As he removes you of your underwear, he also takes the opportunity to rid himself of the flattering black long sleeved top he’d been wearing all evening. The removal of his shirt reveals a silver necklace that had been hiding beneath the shirt and the way the chain hangs off his neck has you biting your lip. It is so rare to see a man wear jewelry so you never realized the effect the sight had on you before, but there's something about the connotations and hidden meaning to it, his choice and confidence to wear it, makes you want to rub your thighs together in want.

His fingers are suddenly teasing at your entrance though and its almost enough to take the edge off, or it would be if his finger hadn’t stopped at the first knuckle of his middle finger. You realize he’s only done it so he can spread the arousal that was already leaking out of your cunt around between your folds and across your clit so he can then go in and lick it all off. Your head falls back into the pillows of your bed as you sigh out his name in relief.

You can feel the focus he has radiating off of him without even looking as he begins to expertly lick up from your entrance, swirl his tongue around your clit and then back down again as he draws moans, ever increasing in volume, from your lips. You found out very early on in your yearly dalliances that he was an expert with that tongue, making you cum not once, not twice, but three times just from his tongue alone, when you told him no one had ever actually gotten you off that way before.

You could feel your first climax of the night building low within you, your muscles growing tight, clit growing extra sensitive as your fingers tangled themselves into his hair, encouraging him and guiding him and not allowing him to pull away until you finished. The pressure of his tongue grew firmer and you ground your clit down against it until that tight thread within you snapped, your hips stuttering as pleasure rippled through you. He held tightly onto you, lapping up everything you gave him and helping you ride it out until you were actively pushing him away from you. He gave your bare thighs a small satisfactory slap as he gave you his smug tight lipped smile that seemed to say ‘another happy customer’ and you couldn’t help but let out a little giggle before turning your head and trying to hide the ear to ear smile that was on your face.

You were able to compose yourself as he shifted from the bed to shuck himself fully off the rest of his clothes, his jeans joining your red dress in a puddle on the floor, before he carefully lifted the necklace off over his head and placed it on your bedside table. You shifted yourself over on the bed as he came down to rest beside you, his hand reaching out to pull your face to him as he gave you a kiss before he encouraged you to climb up on top of him. Your lips didn’t part from his as you straddled his waist, your cunt involuntarily rubbing itself along his hard length as your tongues intermingled with one another.

His fingers reached round to grab a hold of your ass cheeks, squeezing the flesh as he encouraged you to grind down harder. You moaned and gasped against his lips at the drag of your clit across his skin. Your open mouth before him allowed him to reach out for your lower lip, sucking it into his mouth making you moan louder, before he began to trail kisses down your chin and neck. You closed your eyes, getting lost in the feeling and the sounds of your own voice. It sent a new flood of arousal between your legs and you could feel Peter grinning against your skin as you worked your slick over his length.

You paused only long enough to reach over to your chest of drawers, pulling a box of condoms out of the second drawer. The position allowed Peter to attach his mouth over your breasts, his teeth biting at them over the lace bra. You reached behind you to unclasp it and take it off as you sat upright, Peter’s hands resting patiently on the tops of your thighs as he waited for you to then open the condom. You held out the torn open packet for him to take the condom and start rolling it down onto his length as you reached back over the side of the bed to drop the wrapper in the bin.

You shifted your legs back slightly as you recentred yourself, one hand balancing on the bed, the other on his bare chest as he lined himself up with your entrance. He glided the tip of his cock against your folds, covering the tip of his cock with your slick before he began to encourage you back onto it. The slow fill of his cock inside you had you letting out a long sigh of satisfaction, your eyes falling closed, head tilting back as you savored the feeling.

It had been a slow year. Despite a brief hook up with a guy over the summer after a night out with friends and a quick tinder hookup in your hotel in Rome (where the guy spoke barely a lick of English), your only companion had been your old reliable rabbit toy. You’d be lying if you hadn’t been counting down the days to tonight the whole time you had been visiting your Mother. When your flight had been delayed, it was the thought of missing out on your one good and guaranteed fuck of the year that had stressed you out. Now it all seemed worth it.

Peter started slowly, his hips pushing up into you at an agonizing pace as he guided you down and your hips back with every thrust, the contours of his cock dragging agonizingly slowly across every sensitive spot inside you, working you up gradually to another earth shattering climax. Your body bowed over him as you let out small gasps of praise into his forehead, your fingers gripping tightly into the sheets either side of his head. You felt one of his hands run soothingly up your back and it sent shivers down your spine that only added to the sensation building in between your legs.

“Peter.” you sighed against him, as you pressed your forehead into his, your eyes closed in concentration as you chased that feeling inside you.

“What is it? What do you need?” his voice gently calls to you as he moves the hand that was caressing your back round behind your neck, pulling your lips down to his for a kiss.

“More. I need more.” you say equally as gently back into his lips.

You feel his head give a small nod in acknowledgment before he seals the deal with a kiss, as his thrusts begin to grow quicker and firmer in pace. It makes him hit something deep inside you that has you crying out. Your eyes fly open, desperate to lock onto his. He looks up at you with such beauty and gratitude. It makes you want to kiss him again and you do, your tongue licking deeply and slowly into his mouth in rhythm with his thrusts.

Your thighs shudder slightly as the sensation between your legs changes and you know your cumming again but the feeling of his cock moving between your legs doesn’t stop. It works you through the high and he still doesn’t stop. Instead his thrusts grow fast as he searches for his own release. You brace yourself, holding yourself over him as he just takes what he wants. If he holds out long enough you think you can get out one more orgasm of your own.

You balance yourself on one arm as your other hand reaches between your legs, swirling rapidly at your clit as you push yourself against his length, feeling every sensation of his rapid thrust. Peter grunts in response at the sensation of your fluttering cunt and it forces him to find one final push, his hips sputtering only slightly before he increases his angle and speed one last time, then he’s embracing you.

His arms wrap tightly around you as your final climax soaks his cock. Your head is buried into his neck as you try to shut out the overstimulation for just a few more strokes of his cock before he stills, his length pulsating as he finishes, only adding to the sensitivity between your legs making you squirm. He’s quick to push you off him as you do, his own sensitivity unable to take the feeling.

You both pause breathing deeply as you come down before he gives you a small tap and you flop onto your side on the bed. He quickly gets up, kicking his legs out to disperse the blood around them as his cock softens. You close your eyes to revel in the last dregs of your orgasm as he goes to your adjoining ensuite to sort himself out.

He takes a little longer than usual and you begin to frown, but then you hear the flush of the toilet and the door opening and you settle. You quickly get up, flashing him a smile as you hobble to your bathroom with legs like a newborn calf. Usual he’d let out a proud little chuffing laugh but this year he doesn’t.

When you return to see him sat on the side of the bed in his underwear, his fingers reaching to fix the necklace he had taken off back over his head and around his neck, you realize he looks distracted. “What is it? What’s wrong?” you ask him as you climb over the bed to your rightful side and slip between the covers.

His head turns, eyebrows raising as if he’s only just noticed you’re back in the room. “Huh?” he says. “Oh, nothing.”

“Really?” you say as he shuffles himself round to face you, put he doesn’t get under the covers. Peter doesn’t sleep over. He stays for a debrief and a chat for maybe another hour, some years two, but always leaves to return to his own apartment and bed.

“It’s just,” he says as he places an arm under his head as he gets himself comfortable, “I was just thinking about what you said earlier.”

“What did I say earlier?” you reply as you shift into a similar position to his, facing him. You look like two kids at a slumber party who have moved so close to each other so you can whisper really quietly and not disturb the others who are sleeping.

“About pretending to have a boyfriend to get your Mom off your case.”

You frown at him, “Yeah, but it’d never work because she’d want to meet him.”

“Okay, yeah.” he says, but his tone isn’t one of defeat, it instead says ‘wait, hear me out’. “But what if you had someone to take home and pretend to be said boyfriend?”

You’re still confused. “What are you trying to get at here Parker?” You suddenly sit up, placing distance between the two of you as a realization hits you. “Wait, this isn’t you asking me out or trying to be my boyfriend is it? You know I don’t really do the whole dating thing. We have our arrangement and that's-”

“No. NO. Would you just hear me out.” he speaks over you and cuts you off as he too sits up defensively. “Look, I just thought we could come to some sort of arrangement.” You’re silent as he pauses and takes a deep breath and you wait for him to continue. “Okay.” he says, his hands folding in his lap, “This is probably gonna be my Aunt May’s last Christmas.” he says and the implication of his words make you bristle. He struggles to look at you, but your eyes remain fixed on him so he know that you are listening and paying attention, even if his words are starting to make you uncomfortable. “I don’t want her to die thinking I’m gonna spend the rest of my life alone, you know? I mean,” he sighs, collecting his thoughts before he continues, “I don’t want her to die without hope.”

“Okay.” you acknowledge quietly as you follow his words.

“So I was thinking, what if- just for this christmas,” he emphasizes, “what if we pretend to you know, actually date. Come the New Year we go our separate ways as normal, no strings attached, but you know, just to get our families off our backs so we can live our chosenly single lives.” He screws up his face a little at the word chosenly, which he’s all but sure he’s made up but figures he’s gotten his point across.

“So, we pretend to date for the holidays to get our parents off our backs?” you frown, checking you’ve got his proposal right.

“Yeah. You’d come for Christmas Eve dinner with my Aunt and I’ll…” his voice trails off as he wracks his brain for an equal solution for you.

“You’ll come to Boston with me for my Mother’s New Years party.” You fill in for him.

He hesitates a second realizing he’d actually need to travel and stay with you and your family to make things even on your side of things, but the thought of letting May die thinking he’s going to be lonely forever, has his stomach turning more so he hastily agrees. “Fine, but-” he interjects, knowing a single day with his Aunt for a supposedly 2-3 day trip with your family isn’t a fair exchange, “if my Aunt is still with us in February, you have to stop by on Valentines day.”

“I thought you just said we go our separate ways come January.” You respond.

“Yes, but one meal with my Aunt in comparison to a multi day trip to Boston is hardly an equal-”

“Fine. Fine.” You concede with your hands raised.

He relaxes slightly as you come to an agreement. “You wanna shake hands on it or something?” he offers. You roll your eyes, your fingers reaching for the pillow you’d pulled into your lap to nervously fiddle with instead, picking it up and throwing it at him. “Hey.” he jokingly exclaims as he holds his hands up to catch the pillow before it hits him in the face. “Is that any way to treat your new boyfriend?” he deadpans.

“Uuuhhgg.” you scoff back with another eye roll but you can’t help the tiny smirk that creeps into the corner of your mouth.

I'm going to upload the other parts of this mini series on the dates that match up with the story (Christmas Eve, New Years Eve), if you want to be added to the list below, please put it in writing. All current tags have been taken from likes, reblogs or comments from other posts about this series, if you wish to be removed, just let me know. (I had a few more names who liked posts but it wouldn't let me tag you, apologies, I'm not sure how to fix that but I hope this finds you anyway.) Once again if you did like this, please don't just like it, respond with some words of your own to give me a boost.

@sincericida @tarzinnia @raindropsandteaandtears @xenasolos @dil3mma @ms-wild-card-56 @shivani1902

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #andrew!peter parker #peter parker imagine #spider-man #andrew!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker #tasm peter parker x reader #Christmas Peter Parker story #tasm peter parker imagine #christmas imagine #holidate #fake dating #Peter Parker smut #one last date for christmas #andrew peter parker #andrew garfield peter parker

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natashaslesbian · 10 months

Text

Christmas Lies

Summary: your school friend tells you a devastating secret

Word Count: 1.1k

Parings: (Mom!Natasha x Daughter!Reader) (PeterParker x Reader)

Warnings: none :))

————

The snow hadn’t quite settled on the grass yet, but a faint white blanket still laid atop the field carrying your favourite playground. Everyday on the way home from school you would beg your mom to take you, just for five minuets. This was Natasha’s next clue that something was wrong. The city had long ago passed and the car was now scraping along the icy cobbled road up to the Avengers compound. After mothering you as mothers do about your coat, even for a 20 second walk, you had finally made it home. Peter, in record time, had also just made it back and was preparing you your afterschool snack. “Hey little spider” he called “look what I’ve got, chocolate pop tarts with extra sprinkles” if not only for the pop tarts, you would usually be ecstatic to see Peter. He was your favourite person, after mama of course. “y/n?” Natasha said “what do you say?” You looked between both avengers, a silent conversation took place “I think someone’s a little tired” your mommy said “well we can’t have a tired y/n now can we, why don’t you go take a nap with mr webs and I’ll save your pop tarts for later?” Peter said. You nodded and reached for him, asking spider man to take you for your nap. It was no surprise to Nat, she knew how much you loved him, and she trusted that Peter would take care of you. “Have a good nap sweetheart” the red head said as Peter lent over with you in his hold, allowing Natasha to peck your cheek “I’ll come and wake you up soon ok”

You didn’t take a nap. Once Peter left you pulled back the duvet and headed to your small desk, pulling gently on the bottom draw. Silently you pulled out a small stack of letters, each one addressed to Santa. The tears started to fall once more as you returned to your plush bed. Downstairs, Natasha was confiding in her best friend. “Something’s wrong with her I know it, ever since she came out of school today I could tell something was off” the assassin said “you just have to ask her Nat” Clint said as he passed over a steaming cup of coffee “she might just have been tired” he said “I know” Natasha continued “but after last time” “this isn’t like last time” the agent cut in “it wasn’t your fault she got sick” the pair sunk into the couch “I should’ve seen the signs, what if something is really wrong again” Clint retook the coffee before Nat even had the chance to sip the hot liquid “go check on your girl” he said.

“Y/n?” Your mom quietly said as she opened your bedroom door “are you awake?” You rolled to face your pink walls, you didn’t want to see her right now. A small crumble under her foot caused Natasha to look down. She saw the remains of scattered letters across the floor “y/n? What are these?” The redhead said as she crouched down to pick a piece up “baby are these your letters to Santa? Why are they all ripped up?” your mama took her uninvited seat on your bed, the wet patch next to your face causing a crack in her heart “y/n, can you look at mommy please?” She begged. You pulled the duvet up above your head, causing Natasha to try a different tactic “ohh y/n” she cooed “I think the… tickle monster is here!” She went straight for your tummy, your weak spot, the spot that would usually have you laughing hysterically. But not today. “Mama stop it” you said beneath the covers “it’s the tickle monster y/n oh no!” Her playful voice had you itching to climb into her arms “No mama! You lie to me!” You yelled as you reappeared with a giant frown, Natasha froze “what do you mean baby?” She asked “you lied to me” you said as you began to cry again “you told me Santa was real but he’s not” you howled. The widow wasn’t prepared for this conversation yet, she thought she still had a few more years to play pretend “who- who told you that?” You wiped your runny nose “Tommy. At school” you said “why did you lie mommy?” You completely broke down and Natasha scooped you into her arms with no hesitation, and with no push back from you.

“I’m sorry I lied to you y/n” your mama said “it was wrong of me and mommy shouldn’t have done it” you grizzled quietly in her arms “I forgive you mama” you whimpered “thank you darling, but hey you listen to me” Natasha said as she shifted you to meet her gaze “just because Santa isn’t real doesn’t mean you can’t believe in him, and it doesn’t mean the magic isn’t real” her soft fingered wiped your tears “the magic is real?” You said “of course it is!” Your mommy beamed “it’s in the snow and the presents and the food, it’s in the music and the lights, and most of all it’s in here” Nat said as she laid her hand across your chest. “I just wanted you to feel it too” you moved your head towards your moms chest and listened to her heartbeat “I feel it mama” you said “you know when I was little, I didn’t have any of the magic, but for a few years I had Santa” Natasha said as she swaddled you up “I waited up for him every Christmas. After the 5th time, I gave up. I stopped believing. I shouldn’t have lied baby girl, but I just wanted you to have the magic that I never did” you returned the favour and wiped one of mamas fallen tears “mommy don’t cry” you said “I believe in the magic” Natasha smiled again “good” she said “because I promise you, there is magic in Christmas”

A little while passed before Natasha spoke again “if you want to sweetheart, we can still believe in Santa, we can be Santa” your little eyes lit up “we can?” Your mama nodded “can Fanny be our Rudolph?” You asked “I’m sure if you ask auntie Yelena she’ll say yes!” You giggled “and we can get everyone stockings and fill them up on Christmas Eve after everyone has gone to sleep!” You beamed “that sounds amazing darling” Natasha said “I guess we’ll even have to eat the cookies won’t we” she whispered, sending you into a fit of laughter. The two of you stayed wrapped up in your room for the rest of the night, and it was safe to say you couldn’t wait for Christmas Eve, you couldn’t wait to bring santas magic to life.

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#marvel #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel fic #nat x reader #avengers #natasha x little!reader #natasha x daughter!reader #peter parker #christmas #santa

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int-writersmind · 10 months

Text

I Hate Christmas, Peter Parker! {Part 1}

Peter Parker x f!Reader

It’s simple: You don’t see what the big fuss is all about surrounding Christmas, but Peter Parker thinks that this is unacceptable and puts you through step one of a multiple step list to make you fall in love with the holiday.

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 1.7k

Author's Note: I decided to put a Christmas song suggestion for immersion, not b/c I'm currently in love with Laufey right now...

“You what?!” exclaimed Peter, quite loudly.

“Jesus, calm down,” You lean forward, just slightly, over the table, careful to not tip your mug of half decent hot coffee. “All I said was that I don’t really like Christmas that much, that’s all.”

“You Grinch! You Scrooge!” Peter throws his hands up in an over exaggerated motion, he looked like an oversized toddler. Peter puts on a slight pout as he leaned against the wall, feet outwards, looking over the rest of the coffee shop. “I-I mean, you live in New York City, this place practically invented contemporary Christmas!”

“Now that’s an exaggerated statement.”

“I know that,” Peter turns back to you, folding his hands on top of the table. “But there’s a reason why so many Christmas movies are set here, why so many Christmas events are here. It’s because Christmas is just better in NYC!”

“More like Christmas is more annoying in NYC.” You gently pat Peter’s hand before downing the rest of your drink. “Peter, babe, honey, I’ve lived here my whole life don’t you think I don’t know all this?”

“Yeah, babe-honey, so have I. It’s why I love the holidays.”

“And that's why I hate the holidays!”

You thought Peter would grow bored of your Christmas conversation on your way out the coffee shop and down the street, but he only continued his long rant. It was the first day of December and with the new month came the sudden spark of festive, holiday flare, much to your chagrin. The addition of a new holiday drink at your favorite coffee shop had sparked the conversation in the first place. Peter had ordered it and once you decline the same, suddenly came the sudden barrage of questions.

The two of you held hands as you continued down the long city sidewalk, Peter using his other hand to gesture wildly about Christmas. You decide that enough is enough and pull Peter off to the side, dodging tourists with tons of shopping bags. You reach out for Peter’s other hand, bringing it down with the other, squeezing ever so gently. “Listen, Peter, I appreciate how passionate you are about Christmas, the holidays and what-not, but there’s nothing you can say to convince me to suddenly fall in love with this time of year. This feeling has been there for years.”

Peter looks into your eyes and for a minute it seems as if his attention is elsewhere until he jolts in surprise, eyes widening to match. “I’ve got it!”

You can’t help but roll your head back in defeat. “Oh no…”

“Maybe you're right,” Peter squeezes your hands, bringing your attention back to him. “Maybe there isn’t anything I can say to you to convince you that Christmastime is the best time of year, but I can do things instead.”

“Oh Peter! You naughty little reindeer..” You tease.

“I don’t mean that!” Peter quickly kisses your grinning face, “That could be on the list only after–”

“After?!”

“Only after you complete my list of activities that will definitely, 100 percent make you fall in love with Christmas and everything that comes with it.”

“Oh, you have a list?” You cock one eyebrow up.

“Hypothetical list, it’s being finalized.” Peter pulls you in close, his hands resting on the small of your back, your hands resting on his chest. “But I think I know what to do first. Do you have a Christmas tree? Decorations?”

“Tree, yes, my roommate left one before she left. Decorations…no, I’m sure my cousin has some extra, I’ll stop by after work today.”

“Ok, I’ll meet you at your place later tonight?”

“Yeah, and–,” You move in closer to Peter, eyes shut, lips millimeters away from each other. “Your little list is not gonna change my mind.” You kiss him gently, one hand resting on his cheek before pulling away, Peter slightly chasing you back. “See you tonight.”

“I can already tell i’m gonna hate this” You hold up a shiny red, classic looking ornament by the wire, looking at it as if it was dead fish caught on a hook.

“What?! You have the easy job!” Peter calls back as he clicks the last piece of your ex roommate’s Christmas tree together.

It was night now, Daylight Savings causing the city to look later than it actually was. The two of you had stayed committed to this little game of Peter’s. After calling your cousin about picking up some spare decor (which she eagerly shoved into your arms), and lugging the oversized box on the train back to your place, Peter showed up with a determined expression and a carton of egg-nog.

You take out the other ornaments from their box, inspecting each one, before setting it off to the side. Peter saunters over and plops on the floor next to you, going through the rest of the box to find more decorations for the tree. “This feels tedious.” you say, looking at all the stuff you laid before you.

“Oh c’mon, this will be great.” Peter says as he untangles some garland.

“That’s what you said about the egg-nog.”

“Yes, yes I did say that, but to be perfectly honest, I’ve never tried egg-nog until today so…that’s on me.”

You smile at him as you take the final ornament from the box in hand, a golden ball that had swirls molded into the plastic. “Ok let’s decorate this stupid tree.”

Half an hour in, with tolerable Christmas music playing in the background, the tree was finally starting to come along. You and Peter stood on either side of the tree, hooking various ornaments on branches. As the last ornament looped on, Peter went over to the box to pick up the garland he detangled earlier as you stood back and admired the tree.

“See, beautiful.” Peter said coming up from behind you.

“What, me? Of course.”

Peter just rolls his eyes as he hands you one end of the garland, you each start to place it around the tree, passing the end from one hand to the other. “Doesn’t this remind you of being a little kid, putting up all your favorite ornaments?”

You just shrug your shoulders, “The older I got I just dreaded putting up the tree. It’s started out fine of course. But then someone puts the wrong ornament somewhere, or one side of the tree lights are not working, a favorite ornament gets broken…boom arguments. Mom, Dad, pissed at one another, little ole me just trying get the hell out of dodge.”

Peter gets the end of the garland, securing it at the bottom of the tree. “Sounds like…an experience.”

You just smile at him as he comes to stand next to you. The two of you look at the tree, its soft, golden white lights, the shiny, almost sparking ball ornaments on each branch. “No, no, it’s ok, my parents love each other, but they're just…really good at arguing with one another. I, personally, don't care for it, so I try my best to avoid it.” You reach for Peter’s hand, interlocking your fingers with his. “After my dad accidently broke one of my favorite ornaments and got into a fit with Mom, I just decided it wasn’t worth it anymore. Swore off decorating Christmas trees.” You lean your head on Peter’s shoulder. “It’s funny, I wasn’t even that mad that it broke…”

“What was it?” Peter rests his head on yours.

“Some old time-y phone box, something silly I saw at a Christmas pop-up when I was like 6-7 years old.”

The two of you just stand there in the silence for a moment.

“Pick a new one.”

You move your head off Peter’s shoulder, turning to look at him, “What?”

“Pick a new favorite ornament.” Peter answers, “You don’t have to keep it forever, but it can just be your favorite for this year.”

“Hmm, fine.”

Your eyes skim over the tree, you land on the red ornament before jumping to the golden one, before your eyes find something much more garnish. A little ceramic coffee cup, what better to remind you of how you ended up here. Decorating a tree for the first time in years with your boyfriend who’s hellbent on getting you to like the holiday again.

Your fingers wrap on the ornament, lifting it off its branch, “How about this?”

“Prefect.” Peter says as you hold up the ornament in hand, the light glinting off the piece. Peter tosses something in the air upwards, shooting some webs to stick it to the ceiling. You put the ornament back in its original spot before looking at Peter. “Oh, wow what’s that?”

You look up, mistletoe dangling crookedly. “You know those things are poisonous right?"

“To eat, not to kiss under,” Peter pulls you in close by the waist, eyes darting from your lips to your eyes. “Plus it’s fake.”

Your own eyes glance at Peter’s mouth before looking back at his eyes, “Just because I didn’t run away from decorating a tree, you think you deserve a kiss?” You smirk, a hand going to the back of his neck.

“Oh come here you little Grinch.” With a soft hand on your cheek, Peter pulls you in for a kiss. Those lips, which you became so familiar with, soft and warm, sweetened by the eggnog, engulf yours. His tongue entering yours, playing with yours like it did so many times before. This action was so common, kissing each other was almost like second nature, but sometimes–like moments like this, it almost felt like kissing for the first time, but better. Kissing someone you could really trust, someone who really cared about. It was gushy and corny and everything else that people made fun of, but it was so worth it.

The two of you break off the kiss, foreheads resting on one another.

“So, step one of your list completed?” You ask.

“Nah.”

Your head shoots upwards, looking at Peter with a confused look, to which he chuckles at.

“We still have the rest of the apartment to decorate.”

You groan, falling limp in Peter’s arm. It was all for show of course, but you had to commit to the bit, letting all your weight on to Peter’s one arm. You knew not matter what, he wouldn’t drop you. “God I hate you.”

Hello there! Thanks for reading Part 1 of this multi-part X-mas fic that was definitely not inspired by me at all hahaha... Anyway, I'll post on Sundays to get this series done by Christmas but no promise, but expect weekly uploads at the very least. Also this is meant to be mostly Fluff but if you Naughty Reindeers want some Spice/Smut I'll think about it 😉. Alright bye Void!

{Read Part 2}

#peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker #peter parker x you #christmas fic #christmas fanfic #spider man fluff #spider-man fluff #spider-man fic #spiderman fic #spider man fic #spiderman fluff #christmas spider-man

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parkerpeter24 · 2 years

Text

bake my day

pairing ➳ peter parker x reader

warnings ➳ honestly, full on fluff.

w.c. ➳ 0.7k

summary ➳ you haven’t been able to see peter for some time due to work but when you give him a surprised visit on christmas, you end up getting surprised yourself

soft christmas blurb to make up for the pain i caused through this

i would like to extend my gratitude towards my two besties @glowunderthemoon and @annab-nana because without these two, i would never have had the idea to write this fic, i love you both 🤍

the less frequent texts from you constantly worried peter but he knew you would come around after you were a little free from all the work induced stress. he also did the same kind of thing, so he knew the cycle well enough.

you were either too busy or either too tired to text him, and he understood, but that didn’t mean he’d stop looking after you. sometimes he would leave little notes stuck to your window after he was done with patrol. sometimes he found you tucked under your sheets and smiled at your sleeping figure.

you’d kept all his little notes safe in your drawer for reading whenever you were too exhausted or too stressed because his neat writing and the sweet words never failed to brighten your day, whether it be a, ‘saw a book today, it reminded me of you’ or a ‘wanna hang?’ that cheeky bastard knew how to get you smiling like an idiot.

however, every now and then, you did find yourself guilty of never really replying to his messages and short notes. you had been busy for so long. when you were finally done with all your paperwork, it was christmas and you were able to find one weekend where you had quite literally nothing to do. so obviously, you found yourself making your way over to your dear boyfriend’s house with a pack of reese’s, marshmallows and his favorite gummy worms. peter had quite a sweet tooth if you were being honest.

you didn’t text him beforehand because you were a little scared he would have replied in a way you didn’t want him to, or at all. maybe he would be upset with you because you haven’t replied to him in forever, and rightfully so.

you walked up the stairs to his apartment, the lift was still not fixed, as you’d expected, but it wasn’t a big deal because aunt may and peter lived on the second floor.

making your way over to the door, you found that it was ajar. that didn’t stop you from knocking as you called out, “may?”

you hesitated a little before making your way inside, “peter?” you called, placing the bag of snacks onto the dining table which led the way towards the kitchen. you could hear soft humming as you made your way forward. it was definitely peter’s voice and you guessed he had his earphones on, which he did when he wanted to block out all the overwhelming noises.

what you had not guessed was your boyfriend, swaying in a sky-blue polka-dot apron, pulling out a tray from the microwave and placing it on the kitchen counter.

you watched him in awe, him not noticing you standing right there, as he took out a strainer and emptied a cup of powdered sugar into it.

it didn’t take you long to pull out your phone and start filming a video of the adorable sight in front of you. peter picked up the strainer and placed it a few inches above the tray– which, you noticed, contained a batch of chocolate chip cookies– and started patting on it to help the sugar down onto the cookies.

you smiled softly, watching him carefully as he smiled at his work, placing the strainer down once the sugar was all gone. finally, his eyes made his way up and doubled in size when he saw you standing there, with your phone in hands.

“what the-” he stopped himself, pulling out his earplugs and placing them beside the tray, “when did you get here?”

you laughed at this, saving the video and sliding your phone back into your pocket, “you’re so cute, peter parker!”

“oh hush, you.” his smile extended from everywhere to everywhere. you rushed over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist, “i was going to surprise you with cookies but you surprised me!”

“i can’t believe you did this for me.” you chuckled along with him, placing a soft kiss on his lips. it felt so nice being able to kiss peter again after such a long time.

“of course i’d do this for you. god, i missed you so much!” his hand traveled to the back of your neck as he, once again, pulled you back in for another kiss.

“i missed you so much too.” you mumbled into his lips, “i’m so sorry for not being around.”

“you were busy, i understand.”

“just when i thought i couldn’t love you more.” your heart melted at the lovesick smile on peter’s face, however it soon turned into a smug one.

“just wait till you’ve tried my cookies.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

taglist : @httphollands @the-girl-in-the-chair @annathesillyfriend @uwiuwi @spideyspeaches @prancerrparkerr @usergarfields @theglitterymess @quaksonhehe @lowkey-holland @starlight-starks @piscesparker @incorrectsourwolf @wildxwidow @annab-nana @blankspaceblankday @kelieah @arvinsvintage @parkersdahlia @icarusafety @raajali3 @tommyfroggie @saturnpeter @ellabellabus07 @comfort-reads @holland-styles

#peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #tom holland blurb #tom holland imagine #christmas blurb #peter parker fluff #peter parker x y/n #peter parker #tom holland #peter parker fanfiction

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imnotgoinghome · 2 years

Text

The Pictures on Your Phone

Btw, in the beginning, I set it up like you were in a place like Main Event or a place like that.

Summary: After finding pictures taken by you on his phone, Peter realizes that his feelings aren’t what he thought they were

Warning: stealing someone’s phone (kinda), fluff, confused peter

“Should I do it? I kinda want to but I don’t know, should I?” You asked Mj, who was still laughing at the fact that you had just taken Peter’s phone out of the bag the boys entrusted you with and were now holding his phone in your hand. She nodded, partly because she wanted to see if you would actually take pictures on his phone, and partly because she thought it would be funny for him to find later.

“Ok, let’s see, how to do— oh there we go!” You said as you finally found the camera button on his Lock Screen. His android phone didn’t help the camera quality, because why would it.

“What should I even take pictures of?” You asked your best friend, who quickly responded with “do one of that guy with the ponytail over there”. She was still laughing, like she always did. You quickly took a few pictures of the people around you, some of your friends, and then a few of yourself, which ended up being deleted.

Once you saw people start to flood out of laser tag, one of them being Peter, you quickly stuffed his phone back into the sack and tided it back like it was so it would look untouched. You weren’t gonna tell Peter about the pictures, that was for him to find out later, but you were gonna ask him about the crack on his screen.

When Ned came over to the table you were sitting at, you noticed Peter was behind him. So naturally you took it as an opportunity to ask him about his phone screen. Thank you Mj for daring you to do that.

“Hey Peter, has your phone always been cracked in the bottom right corner?” You asked, tilting your head slightly to the right as you handed Ned the bag.

“Yeah, why?” He asked skeptically. He was a little taken aback by your question, not knowing you would ask him something like that. Because, let’s be honest, when did you really ever ask him stuff that wasn’t related to school or the boys being stupid.

“Oh, no reason” you answered sweetly, turning around and going back to the table where your best friend was seated.

Not another word was spoken between you and Peter after that. He was weirded out for sure by your somewhat odd behavior (in his mind, he didn’t know how weird you could be yet). He had never been asked a such out of the blue question by you, so he wanted the reason behind your question.

Once Peter got home from school, he went into investigation mode. He searched through his phone, until he opened up his photos. There it was. The thing you had done to his phone was non other then flood it with pictures of you, your friends, and random people you thought looked ‘cool’. He looked through all of them, because why not, deleting the ones he didn’t like and recovering the deleted photos he wanted to keep. But for some odd reason he couldn’t explain, he keep ever picture of you, even if it was bad.

He had never had someone do this on his phone before, so he was confused as to why you would do this. After countless hours of scrolling through YouTube, trying to figure out what it meant if someone took pictures on your phone (and you liked the pics), the only conclusion he could come to was one he didn’t want to believe. He didn’t know if it was true or not, but after looking into the things people do if they like you, he started to believe it was true.

The next day at school was interesting for Peter. He asked you what happened to his phone yesterday, and all you said was you took harmless pictures of people on it (which were truly harmless). He tried to ask you why you did it, but all you said was “because why not, it was fun”, which was not the answer he was looking for.

But things only got weirder for him when he saw you in the hallway, sitting in a corner talking to Mj and Betty during your finals break. You were laughing, making jokes, and just talking, and Peter was walking around with Ned.

That’s when it hit him. When he heard you talking about him, telling Betty about what happened yesterday, and joking about it with Mj, all he could do was think about the pictures of yourself you had taken. All of them, which were still on his phone, were somehow different then the other pictures to him. Something about them made him look at you in a different way, a way that made him unsure about his feelings for you. But when he heard you talk about him, that was it. He was sure of it know. Peter liked you.

Friday was the last day of finals, which meant that Christmas break was only a day away. Now that Peter knew he liked you, he was almost sad that there was a break in school, because that meant he wouldn’t see you. But that feeling was put on hold when you came up to him in the hallway after the science final.

“Peter, when’s your birthday?” You asked him, making his heart warm at the sound of your voice (which was a weird thing for him).

“Why do you need to know? Your not trying to break into my phone are you?” He asked questioningly, trying to cover up the fact that he had butterflies in his stomach.

“No reason” you responded. Right after you stopped talking, all that could be heard was Betty’s annoying voice (or at least to Peter) .

“Don’t tell her! She’s gonna try to break into your phone! I repeat, don’t tell her! It’s gonna be your phone or your iPad” she said as she walked up behind you, interrupting your perfectly normal conversation with Peter, like she always did.

“Come on! I’m not gonna break into your stuff Peter, I promise. Can I not just ask for someone’s birthday? Do I always have to have a reason behind my actions!” The last part you said more to Betty, because you were mad at her, but she was unfazed and quickly responded with “Yes, yes you do”.

Peter was, for the most part, quiet and didn’t talk. He mainly just watched you angrily yell at Betty and her tell you your feelings and actions like she knew you like the back of her hand (she didn’t, Mj knew more about you and your actions then Betty did).

You stormed off angrily, mad that Betty wouldn’t let you have a conversation, while Betty stayed behind and told Peter to never tell you his birthday. He agreed, not really paying attention to Betty as he was more focused on you.

Of course Peter was weirded out, but amused. He couldn’t stop thinking about how mad you were, and how cute you looked when you were mad. In Peter’s mind, you were adorable, which was still new to him. He had never had a crush before, which made you his first, also leaving him with the realization that he had no idea what to do about it.

Christmas break was interesting to say the least. I mean, other then Christmas Day, most of his Christmas break was spent thinking about you. And whatever the heck he was going to do about his, massive, crush on you. But he came up with a plan. A plan he did know would even work, but he was going to try, after making sure May liked it of course.

May had always been good with this kinda stuff, so she must have a solution, right?

After explaining his, very poor, plan to May, who scrunched her nose at it, Peter decided he might as well give up. Until May told him a very valuable piece of advice.

“You said Y/n‘s never done this to anyone else right?” She asked, wanting to make sure her information was correct before she told her nephew the thing that would change his relationship with you forever.

“Yeah, she’s only done it to me, which I still don’t get”

“Have you ever noticed how people tend to do weird things when they’re in love?” May asked, trying not to sound like a therapist (mission failed).

“I mean, some people act weird yeah…” he said questionably, confused as to what his aunt was talking about.

“Peter, are you really that blind?” She asked getting a little frustrated, knowing Peter had no idea where she was going with this. May could have said it out loud and Peter not known. He was that clueless.

“What do you mean?”

May sighed, could she be any more obvious?

“What I mean is, you know how you get nervous around Y/n?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, that’s never happened before. People tend to do things that aren’t normal for them, especially when they love someone, like for you getting nervous around Y/n.” She said, hoping Peter would connect the dots.

“Omg” he mumbled under his breath. There it is. The light bulb had just gone off, and man it was bright, even May saw it.

“What do I do?” He asked. Peter had never been in love before, let only have someone love him back.

“Do what you think feels right in the moment, trust me.” She said, smiling at her nephew, who nodded his head and turned to leave the room when he heard his aunts voice again.

“Oh and Peter?” He turned back around to face his aunt.

“She really does love you”

“Thanks for all your help May, I’ll be home soon, I promise” he told her as he headed to the door.

“Good luck!” She yelled as she heard the front door close.

Peter texted you, asking if it was ok for him to come over. He didn’t want to just barge in, especially without you knowing.

Once he got your apartment, your mom let him in, making him aware that you were in your room.

As Peter opened the door to your room, he caught sight of you. You hair slightly blowing in wind, the hoodie you had on (that was definitely Peter’s), and how you shivered in the cold as you sat on your fire escape. He wasted no time going over to the fire escape, sitting down next to you.

“Hey, I didn’t hear you come in” you told him, your eyes never leaving his.

Peter chuckles at your obliviousness.

“It’s fine, I just got here anyway” at that, you smiled. Dang was he cute in his Midtown High sweatshirt.

“Hey so I wanted to talk to you about something,” he started, the nerves in his stomach becoming more evident by the second. Peter came here for one reason, and if he was going to accomplish it, he had to do it (even if he was petrified).

“What’s up?” You asked as you shifted so you could face him.

“Ok—” he took a deep breath. “I don’t really know how to say this, and for the record I’m really nervous—” you cut him off.

“Hey, you can tell me anything, there’s no reason to be scared. You know I’m always hear for you. Just breath.” You told him as you gently grabbed his hands, taking them in your own as you gave them a reassuring squeeze.

You knew Peter pretty well, which meant that you could tell when he was really nervous about something. Therefore, you were able to tell right away that whatever this was, even though you had a pretty good idea of what it was, it was really important to him.

Peter took one last deep breath before going with his gut and kissing you, and he was glad he did. All of Peter‘s nerves washed away when your lips touched, almost like magic.

You froze when Peter’s lips touched yours, but once over the initial shock, you kissed him back.

When you pulled away from each other, an silence fell over the two of you. But it wasn’t awkward, it was comfortable. You had a smile on your face, and so did Peter.

“That was, um, not what I was expecting” you explained, breaking the silence. You had a huge smile on your face, letting Peter know it was a good unexpected moment.

“I love you” he finally said, only making your smile grow bigger. Your heart was beating out of your chest, but it was so worth it.

“I love you too”

#peter parker #tom holland #readers pov #fluff #peter parker x reader christmas #peter parker tom holland #relationship #friends to lovers #basted on real life #irl things

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bucky-fricking-barnes · 2 years

Text

Tangle

Title: Tangle

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Slight angst and mentions of depression, post-NWH

Summary: Several years after his memory is erased from the planes of existence, Peter lets himself fade into the background of another holiday season.

A/N: For those who aren’t from there, the “T” is a nickname for the subway in Boston. This fic is also part of @foreverindreamlandd‘s Winter Wonderland Sleepover. As always, thank you for reading and supporting me. I hope you enjoy! Dividers are by @firefly-graphics

Slush sloshed around Peter’s boots as he trudged through the streets of Boston. He’d spent most of his day holed up in the library studying for his engineering class. His watch read 6:00, which meant that he only had an hour to get home, change into his work uniform, and head to the restaurant for his shift. If he was lucky, the T wouldn’t be as packed as it was the night before and he’d actually get there on time tonight.

Somewhere up ahead, carolers sang in four-part harmony, something about snowflakes or candles in windows. Their voices clashed with the bellringer at the corner in the opposite direction, worsening the headache that had been creeping up on Peter since hour three at the library.

Peter kept his head down and his hands in his pockets as he walked to the station. All around him, the crowds surged, buzzing with excitement, but he just couldn’t feel it, not this year. The holidays had always been something he’d looked forward to. He’d spend weeks making plans for winter break with MJ, Ned, and May until every moment was crafted to be as enjoyable as possible. The plans usually went out the window once break actually arrived, but thinking back, it was the time he’d spent with his family and friends that he’d really enjoyed, not the plan itself. Years ago, Mr. Stark had taken him out for dinner. No one had been able to know about it, of course, but it had been one of the highlights of that Christmas. It had gotten him into the holiday spirit more than anything else.

He had no reason to travel home for his Christmas break this year, even though most of his classmates were. He didn’t have the option, really, because his boss had scheduled him to work both Christmas Eve and Christmas. Even if he was able, however, Peter wouldn’t have gone back to Queens. There was nothing there for him now except the memories he’d made and a lot of pain. Three years had passed and grief still ripped through him with every thought of his life in New York, both good and bad. Lately, he’d had to bury himself in working and studying to keep from getting caught up in the memories of Christmas past. They were an ever-present knot in his stomach, like the Christmas lights he and May would have to untangle every year.

A wave of heat hit the center of his chest and Peter stepped back, forced into the person behind him by a body against his front. The woman grabbed onto his shoulders, shouting a much-too-loud apology into his ear as she tried to regain her footing on the slippery sidewalk. Instinctively, Peter’s hands went to her waist, holding onto her through her wool coat even as her cup of hot cocoa seeped into the fabric of his favorite sweatshirt.

“I am so sorry,” she apologized again, this time clutching the lapels of his open jacket. After a second, she released him and stepped out of his grasp, taking in the damage she’d done. The woman winced, then met his gaze. “I’m sorry. I slipped. I can give you money for dry cleaning, that looks expensive…”

Peter shook his head and forced a small smile. “It’s not, and it’s fine, really.”

“I know, but I—” She groaned. She looked pained, like she was the one wearing the piping hot hot chocolate. “I just feel really bad. I’m trying to be a better person, you know, with the holidays and all that, and this kinda ruined my streak.”

Unable to help himself, Peter snorted. The woman frowned and froze, looking a little offended. He lifted his hands in an apology of his own.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “but it ruined your streak?”

She crossed her arms. “Yeah, it ruined my streak. I’ve gone three whole days without knocking someone over.”

It was endearing how upset she was about the whole incident, but it was hard to have any kind of conversation in the middle of a city sidewalk. Peter didn’t want this to end, so he reached out for her elbow and gently guided her towards a storefront, away from the flow of traffic.

“Three days, huh? I must be bad luck,” he replied, sticking his hands back into his pockets. His chest was warm from the hot chocolate, but his fingers were freezing. He needed to buy a new pair of gloves. The old ones had gotten frozen to a fire escape last night after he’d tried to stay warmer while stalking out a bodega. He’d spilled water onto them without realizing and the gloves were completely destroyed by the time he got himself free. Peter made a mental note to improve the fabric of the suit next time he remade it so he wouldn’t be as cold. Each winter he’d spent here seemed to be colder than the last.

The woman shrugged with a small, shy smile. The Christmas lights in the window beside her lit up her face and Peter could’ve sworn that he knew her from somewhere, but then she shifted and the shadows moved, and it was like she was a completely different person.

“You’re not so bad.” She paused, smiling at him for a moment longer before pulling her gloved hand from her pocket for him to shake. “I’m Y/N.”

“Peter,” he replied, shaking it. He stuck his hands back in his pockets right away. “I think I owe you a new hot chocolate.”

“You don’t owe me anything, but if you really want to give me something, you could give me your number.”

He blinked. She was still smiling and from the brief time since he’d met her, he hadn’t sensed anything dishonest about her, but it was weird having someone being so forward with him. The only people who had been upfront with him lately had been angry customers, and the only thing they wanted from him was his resignation, a refund, or new food. The knot in his stomach relaxed just a little.

“My number?” he repeated, unsure if he’d actually heard her correctly.

She nodded. “Yeah. I mean, if you want. You just… seem nice. And you’re cute.” She shrugged and glanced towards the people walking past. A little girl with her hair in two little buns was pulling her dad down the sidewalk and her smile brightened as she watched them pass by, then disappear down the street. Y/N looked back at him. “I’ve been trying to find someone to go with me to this Christmas thing for work, but all of my friends are busy. I thought about dating apps but… I don’t know. There’s something about you that I can’t place, but you seem like an honest guy.”

“Wait, so you’re just inviting me to this thing even though you don’t— Sorry.” Peter quickly stepped away from the door to another store, moving into Y/N’s space. She didn’t back away, she only smiled at him and nodded for him to continue. “Even though we just met?” he finished.

Y/N shrugged again. “I guess. It’s just ice skating and hot chocolate, it’s not anything fancy. There’ll be lots of other people there since it’s a public rink. The only reason I’m really going is because our boss is nicer to us if she sees us at company events once and a while. I’ve gotta hit my quota for the year.”

Again, Peter snorted. She had a thing for setting little goals for herself, it was cute.

“Are you laughing at me, Peter?”

He froze, his smile instantly wiped off his face. The small smile she tried to hide, however, was enough to tell him that she’d only been teasing. His heart cracked a little as a memory of MJ and May’s teasing slipped past his usually ever-present defenses, but he managed to keep up appearances long enough to dig out his phone and hand it over. She traded with him and he quickly typed himself to her contact with red, frozen thumbs.

“I’ll text you later, okay?” she asked, and he nodded. “Bye, Peter!”

Y/N disappeared into the masses, leaving him standing alone in front of the Polish deli. Inside, the lights shone warmly down onto the customers and employees alike, and the evergreen garland bordering the window screamed that it was almost Christmas. The weight of it all didn’t feel so heavy now, however, and he found himself smiling a little when laughter from the two men behind the counter echoed even out onto the street. String lights blinking beside him in the window reminded him once again of his recent lack of cheer, but the knot in his stomach didn’t feel as tight anymore. He had room for a little celebration now. Ice skating and hot chocolate sounded like the best way to do that.

His watch beeped and Peter groaned. He didn’t need to look to know that he was going to be late for his shift. His pay would be docked again. It wasn’t the first time, and he’d get by without the money, but he needed his boss to like him. He didn’t want to work at the restaurant forever, which meant he needed a good recommendation. Every stepping stone was important, even if he didn’t like it. All he needed to do was stay on this one until one of his internship applications was accepted.

A week later, Peter waited on the edges of the crowd at the outdoor ice rink. The speakers blared Christmas pop music overhead, but he’d tuned it out as he people-watched. He’d gotten to the ticket booth earlier than he’d expected. Thankfully, there was an open spot on a wall nearby that he could lean against until he was supposed to meet Y/N.

“Peter! Hey! Sorry, am I late?”

At the sound of her voice, he straightened and turned, searching for her. When he finally saw her pushing her way through the people loitering outside the entrance, he shook his head.

“I was really early,” he reassured her.

She finally popped out of the crowd and into the empty space beside him, smiling. “Okay, good. How long have you been standing here? It’s freezing out!”

Y/N was decked out in the same winter jacket as the first time they’d met. She’d added a beanie, scarf, and a different pair of gloves now that Boston’s winter weather had really bared its claws. Peter shuffled a little, tucking his hands back into his pockets. The cold bothered him less than some, but tonight it bit at him like it had teeth. Even so, her presence was like a warm beam of light, and just joining her made him feel a little more optimistic about the days ahead. He wasn’t sure how she made him feel better without even doing anything, but he didn’t care.

“Not too long,” he replied, though it had been almost an hour since he’d arrived. He hadn’t wanted to be late, and he knew that if he’d gone home after his shift he’d fall asleep. His boss had been ruthless since he was late again last week.

Appeased, Y/N nodded and looped her arm with his, pulling him towards the entrance to the rink. “I have to admit,” she said, glancing at him as they joined the end of the line, “I’m not actually good at this.”

“At what?”

“Ice skating. I haven’t been in years, not since I moved here from New York.”

Peter paused, pulling his gaze away from the skaters he’d been watching to focus back on her. “You used to live in New York?”

Y/N nodded, smiling a little as she hummed in confirmation. “Yeah, I grew up there. I moved here for college, but I ended up withdrawing last year. MIT just wasn’t for me.”

He smiled back. It was the first real smile he’d had all day, and it felt good. Life’s burdens suddenly felt a little bit lighter knowing that they have something in common. The knot unraveled even more.

“I grew up in Queens,” he told her. “You?”

Her smile grew wide as the line stopped, and she let go of his arm to face him fully. “No kidding! Me too! Where’d you go to school?”

“Mid—”

“Midtown Tech?” she finished, grabbing his arm again with both hands. “Me too! Wait, when did you graduate?”

The lump in his throat returned and Peter swallowed thickly. He tried to keep his face neutral, but he felt his jaw clench against the tears that welled up in his eyes despite his best efforts. He looked away from her then, staring back at the rink bordered by string lights and families crowding around the benches.

“Um, I ended up just getting my GED. There was a lot going on my senior year and I just…” He trailed off as the lump choked him, and Y/N’s grip on his arm turned gentle.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain.”

He nodded, grateful for her empathy, but a little embarrassed nonetheless.

“I graduated three years ago,” she chimed in. “You know, that year with all the Spider-Man and Mysterio stuff? I remember that everyone’s projects that year were about that. Someone even started a club to try and figure out his identity. It was crazy. It did get old after a while, though.”

So that was how he recognized her. She’d been in his chemistry class. Y/N had been the girl who always sat by the window, first by choice and then by instruction. They’d never talked, though he’d always admired the projects that she did.

Scoffing lightly, Peter forced a small smile. “That sounds crazy. That’s the year I dropped out. That must’ve all happened after I left.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Y/N’s voice was soft and she didn’t say anything more as the line moved up again. They were next, and when they reached the booth, Peter reached for his wallet. Money was tight, but he knew that May would be chewing him out if he didn’t at least offer to pay.

Y/N shook her head at him and turned to the teen behind the counter. She handed him cash and he passed them their skates without another word. It was odd that they had to pay for a work party, Peter thought, but he didn’t say anything. Maybe she had to pay to bring him as her plus one, and he didn’t want to make her think he was ungrateful that she’d paid. He wanted this to go well.

Once on the rink, Peter realized that Y/N truly hadn’t been lying about her skills. While he hadn’t been skating since he was a kid, it felt a lot like swinging from one of his webs, and he picked it up after only a few minutes. Y/N, on the other hand, wobbled and tripped her way around each lap. She didn’t improve even after several trips around the edge of the rink.

“I’m really sorry,” she laughed as he carefully guided her with both hands.

Peter skated backwards, his senses on high alert as he helped maneuver her around the other couples and the kids skating at full-speed. “It’s okay,” he answered. She almost fell again, but he helped steady her, crouching down with her as she regained her center of balance. “It’s not your fault they chose ice skating. Have you seen your boss yet?”

“Who?” She glanced up from watching her feet, met his eyes, then looked back down again as one of her feet started to turn out a little too far. “Oh, right. Um, no, I haven’t seen her.”

“We could take a break. Maybe she’s by the hot chocolate stand.”

Her expression was nothing but relief and he laughed as she let go of his hand to hang onto the thick wooden wall. “You’re an angel, Peter, truly. An angel sent down from heaven.”

He laughed and after a moment, he switched to skate beside her and continued leading her around the ice until they reached the exit closest to the small snack bar. After taking off their skates, they made their way over and joined the line. Peter stayed quiet so she could focus on looking for her boss, but Y/N simply checked the time on her phone, pulled out her wallet, and looked ahead at the menu.

“Any luck finding her?” he finally asked.

Y/N ducked her head down, suddenly interested in aligning the ends of her scarf, and Peter felt suspicion tighten in his chest. “Huh? Oh. Um…”

“Y/N?” he prompted, and she sighed.

“I lied,” she replied, lifting her head. She winced and clutched her phone and wallet against her coat, drawing in and away from him. “I’m really sorry. I don’t actually have a work party here tonight.”

All of Peter’s senses dialed up to high alert and he frowned, glancing around. “Then why ask me to come with you to one? Why invite a complete stranger to a fake party? Is this just for fun, so you can tell all your friends and laugh about me later?”

“No! No, I would never laugh about you, Peter! You’re great, I just–” She let out a frustrated growl and stepped forward as the line moved, then quickly shook her head and stepped out of the queue. Peter followed her as she pushed her way through the crowds toward the edge of the cordoned-off area. Y/N stopped near the barrier of evergreen trees that separated the temporary ice skating rink from the rest of the city.

She turned to face him, sighing heavily and dropping her hands to her sides. “You were cute, okay? And I really wanted to ask you out on a date but I had just spilled hot chocolate all over you and I panicked. I made up a story in the hopes that it would make you feel bad and come out with me instead of saying no.”

Peter stared at her for a moment, his hands shoved in his pockets, then looked around. This area of the rink was less crowded. A trash can near the corner of the makeshift cafe and an unoccupied picnic table dulled the Christmas cheer, making the world feel a little colder, a little grayer, and Peter suddenly felt a little less like being out and about. If he hadn’t been so excited for the date with Y/N, he would’ve gone home and studied some more to distract himself from the holidays. He had friends from class, sure, and people that he talked with at work, but his past and his present made it hard for him to celebrate like he used to, like he wanted to. The knot tightened again, slowly tangling around itself and making his stomach clench with grief as he tried to find the words to say.

“So you wanted a sympathy date?” he finally asked, his voice quiet.

Y/N fervently shook her head. “No. No! God, no.” She held her gloved hands up, her phone still held against her palm with one thumb. “No, I wanted a real date with you, Peter. I just don’t normally ask out strangers and my mind went blank. I didn’t even really process what I’d said and done until after we’d gone our separate ways. I am so, so sorry. If you want to go home, I totally understand. I’ll buy you a hot chocolate and whatever else you want and we can part ways and you’ll never have to see or hear from me again.”

Her embarrassment wasn’t subtle and, ironically, Peter felt his gut twist with sympathy of his own. He understood what it was like to not know what to say or do. He felt that way all the time—most of the time, actually. He stared down at his shoes for a minute. The slush created by the outdoor heaters has left a wet shine on his boots, and he’s thankful that May raised him to buy a good pair of shoes that would keep up with all his walking. His feet would be cold and sore by now if she hadn’t drilled that thought into his brain.

“I think I’ll take you up on that hot chocolate,” he said after a few moments, and Y/N nodded. Her eyes were glossy with tears and Peter could see the reflection of the string lights on the evergreens in them. His stomach dropped a little further. The knot rolled to the bottom, heavy and filled with too many twists and turns for him to unravel alone.

“We should get back in line then,” she murmured.

Peter nodded, following her. They joined the end of the line, keeping some distance between them, and both of them kept their hands in their pockets as they stood together in silence. All around them, the cheerful activities continued on, but the joy didn’t quite reach Peter’s heart.

Finally, he couldn’t take it any longer and he turned to look at her. “Do you want to go for a walk after this?”

Y/N lifted her head, her eyebrows slightly furrowed. “What?”

“Once we get our hot chocolate,” Peter nodded towards the cafe, which was now only a few feet away, “Do you want to go for a walk? One of my co-workers said that there’s supposed to be a bunch of cool lights nearby. It’s supposed to be one of the best light displays on the east coast. It won like four Guinness World Records.”

She blinked, frowned, and then shook her head. “Wait, you actually want to stay? You’re not just going to go home after all this?”

Peter shrugged. He didn’t know how to explain everything going through his head. It would take too long and reveal too much, and he’d never talked to anyone about what had happened at the Statue of Liberty all those years ago. So, he’d start with the small stuff: work, classes, Christmas. Hot cocoa. Christmas lights. Midtown Tech and New York City.

After a moment, Y/N nodded, her expression still slightly unsure. “Okay. I’d like that, Peter.”

“Me too,” he replied.

The knot loosened.

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