#tasm!peter parker fic

[moonstruckme]

Mae, you are the loveliest human and I am so happy for you! Congratulations on 8k, that’s incredible! For your holiday party, I was thinking hot cocoa + tasm!Peter + fuzzy socks from the first prompt list. I’m ready for everything cosy!

Thank you my lovely!!

cw: Peter is a tad insufferable (but it's okay he's cute and he loves us)

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 590 words

There’s a schwick, and your twirling is interrupted. Peter pulls you to him by the side of your hip. 

“Hey,” you laugh, admittedly far from unhappy to be caged in his arms. 

Peter draws a hand up your back to cup your face. His fingers smell like the basil and garlic he’s been chopping. “You are going,” he says, slow and enunciated, “to break your butt.” 

You laugh again, setting your hands on his chest with no intention of pushing him away. “I am not.” 

“You’ve fallen no less than seven times since you put those things on.” 

“That is so not true!” you protest, dodging when he tries to shut you up by kissing you. “You can’t just throw random numbers out there and expect me to agree.” 

“Fine,” Peter capitulates. “But it’s definitely been at least three.” 

“There’s a big difference between three and seven, Parker.” 

“It’s not gonna feel so big when you fall and break your butt.” 

“So let me get this straight,” you say. It’s a battle to stay focussed with Peter’s palm rubbing a slow back-and-forth across the exposed slice of skin between your t-shirt and your pajama shorts, but the knowledge that he’s almost definitely doing it on purpose makes you competitive. “You can dangle off the sides of buildings and get shot at by criminals, but I can’t slide around my own home?” 

“Yup, exactly.” Peter pecks you on the lips. “I knew you’d get it, baby. You’re so smart.” 

You back up when he tries for another. “Doesn’t seem fair.” 

“Well, you know what they say about life…” 

“Dick,” you laugh, pushing off of his chest and going back to the dishrack you were unloading. “I’m just trying to enjoy the new socks my boyfriend got me. You might remember him, he’s the cool, chill one.” 

“Yeah, I hate that guy.” Peter watches as you spin a stack of plates towards the cupboard just to irk him, but he doesn’t stop you. There appears to be a tug on the corners of his mouth. “He knew he should have gotten you the ones with the grippy bottoms.” 

“Maybe if he were less cool and chill,” you allow, grabbing a few mugs out of the dishrack, “but I like the ones he got me. They’re soft, and cozy, and perfect for—” 

You overshoot the cupboard you were aiming for, throwing yourself off balance in your attempt to stop. Your socks slip on the smooth floor, but Peter’s there just as quickly, one arm banded around your waist and the other hand catching the two mugs you’ve dropped. 

“Huh,” he says, musing. “That could have been bad, right? I knew you were gonna break something of yours, but I didn’t really think you’d be taking the dishes with you.” 

You try to stand, but you’re too low to the floor, your socks only sliding underneath you. Your face feels warm, not so much from defeat as from Peter’s proximity, the smug gleam in his eyes. 

“What do you say?” he asks. 

“Thank you.” 

His smile blooms. “You’re welcome. And?” 

You look away from his face, huffing. “Sorry.” 

“Ooh, very nice, but not quite what we were looking for. Wanna try again?” 

You glare up at him. “Really?” 

Peter’s eyes crinkle, affection mingling with his amusement. “Really, sweetheart.” 

You roll your eyes. “You were right.” 

“Attagirl.” Peter pulls you upright, and his mouth finds yours with laughter already in it, kissing you sweetly despite his teasing. “My smart girl, I knew you’d get it.”

[bruisedboys]

❛you got me flowers?❜ + ❛aw, did you miss me?❜ with tasm!peter maybe?

thank you for the request blair!!!!! xx

tasm!peter parker x gn!reader

Peter’s never really been very nimble. Even after becoming SpiderMan, he’s still a little bit of a clutz. He’s lanky and much taller than he thinks he is, so he’s always under-compensating for his size and walking into things.

He makes it through your bedroom window without incident, but then he trips over a book on the floor and can’t catch himself because his hands are full. He goes thudding into the carpet. There’s a pause, and then he hears the shower shut off.

“Hello?” Your voice echoes from the bathroom, much too frightened for Peter’s liking. Whoops.

“It’s me!” He calls out, scrambling to his feet and ditching his effort to surprise you. “It’s Peter, honey, I’m sorry.”

Another pause. Then, “Oh, okay. Just give me a minute!”

Peter’s happy to wait, though he’d go barging into the bathroom if it was up to him. He sits on the end of your bed and brings the bouquet of flowers he’s holding to his lap. It’s a little wilted from his fall, a few petals on the outermost layer crushed. He doesn’t have time to fix them before he hears the bathroom door open and your footsteps down the hall.

“Are you trying to rob me?” You’re saying, amusement clear in your soft voice. “You aren’t very stealthy, Peter.”

You appear in the doorway with a huge smile, a towel wrapped around your otherwise bare body and your skin all dewy and fresh. Peter feels instantly like you’ve put him under a spell.

“I wasn’t trying to rob you,” he argues. His head is swimming. Worse when you cross the room to stand in front of his knees with a sugar sweet smile. He looks up at you, starstruck. “I was trying to surprise you. There’s a difference.”

You raise your eyebrows. Peter’s eyes catch on your bare collarbones. They skip over the dip of your throat, your sternum, the sparkling diamonds of water that cling to your skin.

“Is there?” You ask, amused.

“Uh. Yeah,” Peter says dizzily. He’s completely forgotten what he was just talking about two seconds ago. You smell exquisite. Your skin is smooth and shiny with moisturiser. He might die and you’ll be the culprit. He blinks once, twice, thrice, but his head doesn’t show any signs of clearing.

You giggle at his inadequacy, a sweet, airy sound that has Peter’s heart doing somersaults.

“Aw, Pete,” you say, faking sympathy. You take his face in a soft hand, fingers pushing to the space beneath his ear. “Did you miss me?”

Peter blinks hard. Your fingers set his skin on fire. “What makes you think that?” He asks, aiming for accusatory but landing on clumsy and starstruck.

You burst into laughter. Peter knows very well that you’re laughing at him. He finds he doesn’t care, not when you lean over him and press a kiss to his forehead.

“You’re cute,” you tell him fondly.

Peter blushes all the way up to his ears. Thankfully, you’ve become distracted by the bouquet of flowers in his hands and you don’t notice his very intense blush. He wouldn’t mind if you did, actually. You might call him cute again.

“Oh!” You gasp softly, and lift your eyes to Peter’s. “You got me flowers?”

Peter nods. “Yeah,” he says. Finally, he’s managed to say something without embarrassing himself. “Do you like ‘em?”

You nod vehemently. “They’re lovely, Peter. Let me get dressed, okay? And then we can put them in some water together.”

You touch his cheek and then move away, leaving him in a dizzying cloud of sweetness. He can still smell your moisturiser, still feel the heat of your hand where you’d touched his face.

“Cool,” Peter says, his voice two notches too high. Not his smoothest moment.

[inkdrinkerworld]

Hey Fawn my lovely! If you haven’t gotten this one already, maybe Peter Parker and #4? Only if you vibe with it of course. I love this celebration, it’s so cute and creative!! :)

Mae thank for you this request! Peter and reader go through a corn maze and reader is spooked! Request a prompt here!

You’re on a Halloween date with Peter at a corn field and you’re freaking out.

You never expected you’d be terrified of just rows and rows of corn, but the tall, green stalks and the rustling of the corn is freaking you out.

“Peter, please don’t go far.” You’re trying your best not to get too scared, but with every rustle of the corn your skin erupts in goosebumps and your breath hitches.

Peter smiles beside you, kissing your temple as he links your fingers. “I won’t, babe. Promise.”

You and Peter walk through the maze like field, your anxiety worsening and when Peter lets go of your hand to check out one of the scarecrows it’s at an all time high; especially when you lose him in a sea of people.

Oh god. You stop where you are, hoping Peter will come find you, when you hear a rustling that has to be more than a breeze.

It’s rough and loud, like an animal moving its way through the corn field. It could also be an ax murderer.

Maybe you’ve watched too many scary movies.

The rustling comes again and you can feel the fear creeping up your throat.

Someone jumps out and says, “Boo!” right beside your ear and your hand swings out as you scream.

You know that giggle anywhere. “Peter that’s not funny!” You lean into him all the same, resting your head on his shoulder as your heart rate comes down.

“I’m sorry bug,” he rubs your arms, amusement lining his tone. “Your scream is kind of cute, I’m sorry lovebug.”

He kisses your cheek, your heart slowing a little as Peter holds you. “You’re so mean to your girlfriend.”

Peter coos, his smile poorly hidden, “I’m sorry angel.” He kisses your jaw. “Won’t happen again.”

“I’ll accept your apology if you get me a salted caramel ice cream when we’re leaving.” You try to sound upset, but you’re hiding a little smile and leaning more into Peter as you walk.

Peter laughs, giving you a squeeze and leading you out of the last bit of the maze. “Can I at least have a proper kiss?”

You pretend to think about it, “Maybe after my ice cream.” Peter pinches your side, more than amused with you, but the minute you get your ice cream and a tub to carry home, your cold lips on Peter’s warm ones.

[headkiss]

Peter standing up as a groomsmen for someone's wedding and he sees reader in the audience tearing up and he mouthes I love you to her 😭🫶🏾🥺

peter is such a loverboy </333 thank u for requesting this is a short and sweet one!

Weddings have always made you emotional. They’re a beautiful thing, especially when they’re people you know.

And somehow, now that you’re in love yourself, they get you even more. Peter stands on the groom's side, his suit crisp and hugging him perfectly. He looks as pretty as ever.

You’re sitting a couple of rows back with the rest of the guests, and though you’re meant to be watching the couple that’s saying their vows right then, your eyes keep flicking over to Peter.

Listening to the words the couple says, the happiness and the watery laughs, your eyes well up pretty quick. As if he can sense it, Peter’s eyes meet yours in the crowd, and he huffs a small laugh when he notices you trying to fan away your tears.

He shakes his head at you with a wide smile, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

Looking at him up there, it makes everything even more special. Because you know what it’s like to love someone that way. To want to shout it out to anyone who’s listening. To know that you’re loved the exact same way.

Peter’s done that for you.

You wipe the first tear that falls down your cheek quickly, glancing up to the sky to try and reign it in. When you look back, Peter’s still looking at you.

‘Stop,’ you mouth at him, like he’s the one making you cry these tears of joy and overwhelming emotion.

He just shakes his head again. Then, his lips move, shaping the words ‘I love you.’

Just like that, as the couple says they do and you mouth the three words right back to Peter, another tear falls down your cheek.

When the couple walks down the aisle, hands clasped and smiles stretching their faces, you stand with the crowd, clapping for them. Peter finds you quickly, pulling the handkerchief from his jacket pocket and dabbing your tears away for you.

“You’re a wedding crier,” he says, a hand pinching your chin gently to keep your face tilted to his, the other wiping away the small mascara smudges under your eyes.

“I can't help it. It’s so sweet.”

He dips down to kiss your cheek, then your mouth. It’s quick but it tells you enough.

“I love you, bug. Wedding tears and all.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you push his hair off his forehead. “I love you, too.”

Yeah, it’s nice to be loved enough that you’d never question it, that the words come easier each time.

[flightlessangelwings]

“standing on your tippy toes, frustrated you can't reach your lover's lips”

Tasm!Peter Parker x gn!reader (no use of y/n)

Word count- 592

Warnings- established relationship, fluff, slight bickering but playfully

Notes- Requested by @darylas​ for my 4k follower celebration! Thanks so much for the request! I took inspo from the og Spiderman movies for this one so I hope you liked it!

Taglists are closed. To stay up to date on when I post, follow my update blog and turn on post notifs @flightlessangelwings-updates​

~

“Come on Peter, that's not fair!” you pouted as you looked up at him.

“You almost got it, honey,” he teased back as he hung from his web upside down, just out of your reach, “Come one, just a little bit further.”

You huffed as you rolled your eyes, “You can be a real pain sometimes, you know that?” you crossed your arms as you stayed still.

“Ok, ok,” Peter laughed softly as he lowered himself slightly, “There, now you should reach me.”

You stared at him for several moments, waiting for him to jerk himself back up at the last second. Your body remained tense as you looked into his eyes and the silence consumed you both. But, as you looked at Peter, you couldn’t help but melt. He had a way about him that you could never resist, and you were sure he knew it.

“Alright,” you sighed as you uncrossed your arms and reached up for him where he hung above you. His features softened as a soft smile lit up his face and it made your heart flutter. You reached for him and parted your lips, ready to kiss him.

Peter’s scent engulfed you as you closed the gap between your faces, and your eyes fluttered close as the romance of the moment took over. You placed your hands on either side of his face as your lips hovered over his. But, just as you were about to kiss him, Peter pulled himself up so that he was just out of your way again.

“Pete!” you sighed in exasperation, “You jerk!”

He couldn’t help but burst out into laughter as you huffed at him, “I’m sorry sweetheart… I can’t help it!,” Peter shickered, “You look so cute when you’re like this!” He laughed so hard that he lost his grip on his webbing.

In a flash, Peter suddenly came crashing down onto the ground, “Ow,” he huffed as his shoulder hit the pavement.

All the anger melted away as you dropped to your knees next to him, “Peter!” you exclaimed, “You ok?” you rested your hands on him as checked him over as he grumbled in pain as slowly sat up.

“Yeah…” Peter groaned, “M’ fine.”

“Good,” your voice turned more stern as you slapped his chest.

“Hey! Ow!”

“That’s what you get for teasing me like that!” you scolded him.

Peter’s eyes softened as he looked at you from a new angle. He loved looking at you from every angle; at every angle you were beautiful. And while sometimes he got in a playful mood and liked to tease you, Peter loved nothing more than having you by his side. He reached out and cupped your face tenderly.

“Forgive me?” He gave you his best puppy dog pout.

You looked at him sternly for several moments before you too melted. You couldn’t ever stay mad at him for long, and you knew you would get what you wanted eventually, “I guess,” you teased him back.

“Heyyy,” he sighed before he closed the gap between your faces and took your lips with his.

Both of you melted into the kiss as you lost yourselves in each other. All the games, the banter, the teasing faded away and all that mattered was each other. You immediately parted your lips for him- a sign of forgiveness. And Peter instantly took the invitation.

“You know I love you, right,” Peter murmured against your lips as he peppered soft kisses along your face.

“I know,” you whispered back, “I love you too.” 

[parkerpeter24]

Request where reader and Peter are married and on vacay she’s been trying to hide she’s sick because she’s pregnant and she tells him at dinner 🤗

cute cute cuteeee!! this turned out longer than i’d expected 😳 kinda proud of it!

pairing ➳ peter parker x reader

requests are open

masterlist

peter parker, your husband, was as bad at connecting the dots as he was at keeping secrets. usually he was the one who’d sneak around. at a time you didn’t know about his alter ego– spider-man– he used to hide his costume and his web shooters but now he did it with the bruises littering his face. he would steal your concealer on various occasions and try to cover them up. however, you’d know about them reinstating his inability to hide things, especially from you.

but this time, it was you. you were keeping a secret and not just anything.

you were pregnant.

but not quite ready to tell peter, not knowing how he would react. it wasn’t like you guys hadn’t he married for three years and known each other for all eight of them, but having a kid together was quite a big deal.

it was hard to keep a secret. even though peter would never guess, you didn’t want him to mistake your morning sickness for something serious and fuss over it.

it was harder to keep a secret from peter when you two were supposed to be under the same roof for most part of the day.

tony had decided it was time all the avengers had a break so he’d flown everyone to bali. so now you were laying beside him in this extraordinarily expensive hotel room as the morning sun peaked in through the curtain.

you rubbed your eyes, shifting slightly as the first thing you felt was the weird taste in your mouth. and you just had to make a run for the bathroom before you puked all over the soft, lavish carpet under your bed. peter woke up with a jolt when he felt you throw his arm away from your body. he watched with sleepy eyes as you slammed the door to the bathroom.

“babe?” he hurried out of the bed. he could hear you retching on the other side of the door, “baby? what’s wrong?”

“it’s nothing!” you responded, “be out in a minute!”

it took you around two minutes to collect yourself back and brush your teeth before you made your way out of the bathroom. not so much to your surprise, peter’s hands grabbed both your shoulders as soon as you opened the door, “is it food poisoning? maybe it was the hotdog we had before dinner. it must be that! don’t worry, i’ll get you medicines.”

he started leaving but you stopped him, “peter, wait!”

“what?” he turned around.

you wish you could tell peter now but this just didn’t feel like the right moment. you sighed, “you’re not um, wearing any pants.”

“oh. right, silly of me.” your husband chuckled sheepishly as he grabbed his pair of pants that he’d left on one of the armchairs in the room.

you were sure peter would have found out in a week when your baby’s heart started beating, anyway. you felt a little ridiculous as you took the medicine from his hand and assured him that you would take it before you sneakily flushed it down the toilet.

peter noticed you being weird at breakfast too. you poked around at the salad in front of you. the smell of olive oil was making you nauseous itself and you were sure you’d have to rush if you had it. you would really go for a burger right now. honestly, you weren’t up for running three flights of stairs.

peter placed a hand over yours, running his thumb over the ring that rested on your finger, “hey, you okay? did the medicine not work?”

you gave him a shrug, “not hungry.”

“take it easy, parker.” wanda interjected, “just get her a burger and some fries.” she gave you a wink before taking a bite out of her bagel.

she knew.

you gave her a small smile.

thankfully peter took wanda’s advice and got you some fries, a burger and an added milkshake, which made you love him even more than you ever thought you could. you threw your arms around his shoulders as he placed the brown bag containing your breakfast on the table back in your room.

peter hugged you back as he smiled. however, his smile quickly faded away when he felt your shoulders shake against him, “y/n, are you-”

his sentence was cut short when you sobbed into his chest. his hand instantly wrapped around you protectively, “baby, what’s wrong?”

you just shook your head as you continued crying. peter rubbed your back until you calmed down. you pulled away to wipe your tears while the brunette’s arm remained intact around your waist, “i’m sorry.”

“you’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” he said as he tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear, “is everything okay though, hun? you’ve been acting kinda... weird. which isn’t bad, i-i mean, i’m just worried about you.”

“i’m okay, peter. i just got a bit emotional.” you gave him a little smile.

he nodded, though still unsure.

peter was nothing short of a delight for the whole day after that. he served your breakfast for you and even denied going to the beach with the others because you didn’t feel like going, even though you’d told him you’d be fine in the hotel room. then you two spent the day watching disney movies.

in the evening peter asked you to get ready for dinner and you were a little confused because you thought you two were going to go downstairs and have dinner with the gang. but peter insisted you get ready so you did.

peter then took you to the beach and the two of you walked until a candlelit table was in front of you. you gasped with joy, “remember our first candlelight dinner?” peter asked as he watched your smile grow.

“i do! i was so nervous.” you chuckled.

“you were nervous? i was freaking out! i didn’t know what to speak. you looked so gorgeous.” peter gave you a small smile, “you still do.”

“you’re way more gorgeous.” you gave him a little kiss, “oh my god. i just remembered i spilled wine all over your favourite shirt that day.”

peter laughed. and just like that, you knew. this was the moment. it was your chance. you didn’t wanna wait for peter to figure it out himself or for him to hear the baby’s heartbeat. you wanted him to hear it from you.

the two of you sat down and peter ordered your favorite for both of you. you smiled, watching you two’s fingers interlaced. peter ran his thumb over your ring finger, a habit of his that made your heart swell every time.

“peter?”

“yes, beautiful?”

“there’s something you gotta know.” you stated as your heart started beating a little faster.

“what is it?” peter asked, giving you his fill attention, a look of concern etched over his face.

“i’m... uh, i’m pregnant.” you stated, watching his face for any major expression.

“yeah, what about that?”

“i know! i couldn’t believe it eith- wait what?!” your pupils enlarged in surprise.

“you’ve been pregnant for around five weeks, what’s new with that?” peter asked.

him being so confident made you doubt if you’d already told him. peter laughed softly at your confused expression. you looked at him, raising an eyebrow, “is this funny to you?”

“no! no. not at all.” peter gave a little squeeze to your hand.

“how’d you know?” you asked, your expressions softening.

“well, i noticed the little changes your body was going through.” peter explained, “and i found the pregnancy test you forgot to throw out.”

“oh shoot-” you facepalmed, “that’s so stupid.”

“hey, it’s alright.” peter chuckled, “i would have probably been worse at keeping a secret like that.”

you laughed, “guess we’re both bad a keeping secrets.”

[webslingingslasher]

TLDR; too long, didn't read

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Genre: Fluffy, minor angst

Word Count: 10K

Summary: you're dyslexic and it runs your entire life. peter's just trying to help, but sometimes it's a bit too much.

this was requested, thank you, thank you.

“Here, read this and tell me what you think.” 

You let out a breathy sigh, like you’ve been here, done that, and heard that a million times before. Actually, it's because you have. And not just by Peter, everyone in your life. Teachers, parents, even friends that just tried their best to help. It just never worked. 

It never, ever clicked in your brain. 

“Peter, we’ve been over this. I can’t read.” 

Peter rolls his eyes, “Chill with the dramatics, you can read. I know you can read, did it last night for me.” 

He’s right. The last few weeks since you’ve been extra struggling in English Lit he’s asked you to read to him every night, over the phone or in person. 

You hate it. 

Not reading to Peter, it’s just embarrassing for you. The pauses in sentences you have to take to clearly read the line, or the stuttering, or worse when Peter can guess what word you’re trying to say so he says the word slowly and calmly almost as if he’s sounding it out for you. 

You know he does it with nothing but love, but sometimes you just feel dumb and ashamed, and it’s nothing you can solve. 

“No, like, I really can’t read at all.” 

Peter pokes at your arm with a pencil, “You just need a little extra time, it’s no big deal. You even crushed our short story last week, you only slipped up on three words!” 

Your brain is fighting against you because you have visual dyslexia. Meaning that letters jumbled around in your brain and on the page. You’ve struggled since you were a kid, it’s gotten easier through the years. Lots of intervention, reading and writing has helped you slow down and sound out the words softly and slowly until you know it’s right. 

“If I ask you something will you be totally honest?”

Peter is a fucking genius, it makes you distressed when he helps you with this. He is solving grad school equations and helping you sound out kindergarten words for fun, it doesn’t make sense. 

“I don’t like the way that sounds so I’m withholding until I hear it.” He taps his chin with his pencil eraser. 

You don’t know why you haven’t asked yet. 

“Why are you dating me?” 

Record scratch, Peter looks offended. 

“Huh?” The pencil is slack in his grasp. 

You backtrack a little, you know why he’s dating you but you don’t understand it. You can’t help but feel inferior to him booksmart wise. 

“Well, I mean, you know.” You wince and shug with one arm, you divert your eyes to the page and start to slowly read out to him. 

“Jill went over to George’s for tea and cakes, when the doorbell-” 

Peter cut you off with his hand on your shoulder, you peered at him from the side. 

“No, I don’t know. I’d like you to explain that question to me, please.” Where the hell was this coming from? 

You huff and push the book away, “You’re smart and I’m not. Do you ever think to yourself, ‘God, I wish I had known she was an idiot before I tapped that’? It’s not your fault but I feel so below you and I can’t ever be you so like, what’s the fucking point.” 

Peter doesn’t know where to begin. 

You’re not an idiot, you’re not below him and he’s so glad you’re not him. He also doesn’t like that ‘tapped it’ comment.

“Is that how you always feel?” Has he done a bad job of lifting you up? 

You shrug, then nod. 

“Jesus, Y/N.” 

“I’m dating you because you’re lovely, you’re funny and despite what you believe, smart. You crush vocab like no other cause even if you get tripped up by the words you always know what they mean. You’re a knowledge god in history and the best chemistry lab partner, I have never thought you were dumb, ever.” 

You roll your eyes, it’s his job to tell you that you’re smart, it’s in the boyfriend duties journal. 

“I’m sure if you knew I was dyslexic before we started to date you wouldn't have.” 

Pause, Peter did know. You didn’t know he knew, he’s kept that from you. He didn’t want it to seem like he dated you out of pity or because he knew you needed extra help. He dated you because he was absolutely in love with you and needing a little extra reading comprehension skills wouldn’t ruin that. 

“I did know.” 

You raise your hand as he’s proven your point, “Exactly! I always knew-” 

You furrow your eyebrows at him, “Did you just say you knew?” 

Peter nods with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. 

“Wait, I’m being serious right now, Peter. You knew I was dyslexic?” 

He breathes in deeply, “Well, I mean, I had an idea. I knew you had trouble reading sometimes and when you started leaving class during tests I knew.” 

You poke your cheek with your tongue, “Interesting.” 

“I only knew because I knew a kid named Ben in elementary who was dyslexic, and he would go to a different room during tests and they would ask him the questions out loud so he could understand it a bit better.” 

“And you never said anything?” 

“Because it didn’t matter to me, baby. I love you no matter what, this isn’t a big deal at all, really.” 

And there it is, that’s the fallback line for him. 

‘It doesn't matter, it isn’t a big deal.’ 

Except it was, and it really did fucking matter to you. Peter would never understand it unless he dealt with it, and he didn’t. And it’s not his fault at all, cause you know if the situation was flipped you would most likely say the same things. But this is a real disability you struggle with everyday all the time, it’s not like you had a problem with math that could be avoided until you had to do it again. 

This was every text, every written page, every passage you read. Every street sign, absolutely everywhere you looked, it followed. 

It controlled your life, and he would never understand that. 

“It doesn’t matter to you, you mean.” You correct his wording, he doesn’t get it. 

“Of course it doesn’t matter to me, you’re my genius girl, no matter what.” He winks then points at the page again, “Okay, so Jill and George?” 

You felt defeated inside, what was the point of trying anymore? It would stick and stay no matter what and no matter how hard you tried to keep it under wraps, everyone would know. 

—------------

“Alright, hot stuff. I got this book at the library and I think we should read it together. I heard it was good from Tiktok.” 

You took the book from Peter’s hand and turned it over, the words jumbled immediately and you recoiled inside from the size of the book alone. It was massive, it would take you weeks if not months to read it through. 

“Yeah, about that,” You trail, Peter sets his bag down and sits on your bed with a pillow in his lap. 

“About what?” He pats the pillow, he’s calling for your head to rest there. 

“The reading thing, I was thinking, do you think we could take turns?” You bit your lip and leaned back, his fingers tracing in your hair. 

“Take turns what, reading?” 

You nod, you also feel where you made a knot in the back of your hair from rubbing the fabric. 

“Yeah, it would be like the sisterhood of the traveling book. I would read and then you would, it doesn’t have to be chapter by chapter but then it’s even.” 

Peter untangles some knots gently, “We could, but I really love hearing you read to me.” 

“Yeah, but you never read to me, and I love your voice.” 

Peter laughs airily, “Yeah, but I don’t-” 

He stopped, he caught himself. 

Not good enough, you know what he meant. 

You tilt your chin up to look at his face upside down, you narrow your eyes.

“Go on, say it.” 

He shakes his head. 

“No, really, Peter. I want you to say it.” 

“It’s nothing, baby.” 

You push yourself up and face him, you huff. 

“I’m serious, I want you to say it to my face, right now.” You feel your face get warm, you were right when you brought this up last week, he does think you’re stupid. 

Peter breathes out hard through his mouth, he knows he’s fucked up, and this was going to brew into a fight no matter how hard he tried to settle it right now. If he ignored you he would make it worse. 

“Yeah, but I don’t need help like you do.” 

You wince and hiss in through your teeth. 

“Ouch. That hurt.” 

You sit back in silence and pick up the book he brought over, you look it over once more. Even reading slowly things still got a little jumbled, you felt like you were out of place. 

“Baby, look at me.” 

You shake your head, “It’s okay, Peter.” 

He grabs your arm, “No it’s not.” 

You shake him off, “No, really. It’s okay.” 

He sighs, “I didn’t-” 

You cut him off, “You didn’t mean it like that, and you don’t think I’m dumb and I’m amazing and talented elsewhere, and needing extra reading time is fine and normal and you were just talking without thinking and you didn’t mean it.” 

Peter gave you a small smile, “I feel like it would be better coming from my mouth, since I’m the one that said it, but yeah, you hit the nail on the head.” 

You give the same smile back and pretend it’s fine. 

But it’s not fine, it’s actually so far from fine you cried yourself to sleep. You cried all night looking at the numbered book spine from the library copy your boyfriend brought to you, the same book spine that let you know Peter did notice how slow and difficult things were. You started at the title until it was burned into your mind, everytime you blinked it was etched into the backs of your eyelids. 

You stared at the book and cried and cried and cried until you decided you hated the book. You hated it so much you wanted to rip out its pages one by one until it ceased to exist. You wanted to flush it down the toilet and you wanted to drop it in a bucket of wet paint, you wanted it to be used as first pitch at the start of the baseball season, you wanted it to be banned from every corner of the world, you wanted Peter to take it back. 

Peter said the worst thing he could’ve said, and it came with no effort. Like he thinks it all the time, you made up your mind right then you wouldn’t ever read to or with him again. 

—----------------

You were getting more and more frustrated with Peter by the second, he wouldn’t shut the fuck up for twelve seconds. He just keeps going on, and on, and on about reading this and how “he’s thinking about how we could split up the pages and make it more fair, cause he does understand how it can seem unfair reading all alone to someone else, not to mention-” 

You rub at your temples, “Are you my boyfriend or my tutor?” 

Peter stops, “What?” 

You keep rubbing to stop the oncoming headache, “Are you my boyfriend or my tutor?” 

He looks confused, “Boyfriend, right?” 

You laugh dryly, “Could have fooled me, professor.” 

Peter doesn’t know what to say, he’s just trying to help, is he coming on too strong? 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to throw this all on you. How do you feel about this, you read the first thirty pages and I’ll read the next fifty?” 

You shove the book Peter placed in your hand into his chest, “I’m not reading the fucking book, Peter. If you want to read it so badly, do it yourself.” 

Peter is genuinely speechless, he doesn’t think you’ve ever snapped at him like this. 

All he can come up with is, “Huh?” 

“You heard me,” You double down, “I’m not reading the damn thing, it’s your book, you read it.” 

He shakes his head one more time, he’s thinking he’s got a concussion. 

“What? Why?” 

Because you vowed to never read to him again.  

“Because I don’t want to.” 

“Okay, that’s fair. I should’ve asked you, we can go to the library and you can pick out anything you want. Daddy will put it on his card.” He winks. 

“Thanks, but I’m good.” 

He pulls his head back and sets the book down, “If you don’t want to read today it’s fine, we can go get lunch, I know you’ve been begging me to take you to the new diner on 54th.” 

You narrow your eyes and look him up and down, “Just lunch?” 

He nods, “Unless you want to do something else, didn’t you say you wanted to see a movie?” 

You grimace, “Next month.” 

He grins, “Perfect, I’ll mark it on the calendar.” 

—---------------

You frown looking at the menu, usually it was pretty easy guessing what things were off a quick glance from the pictures but this menu had no images. 

It’s small accessibility things like that, that most people don’t think of, that make a world of a difference for someone that needs it. 

You peer up at Peter across from you, his forehead and right eye are lit up from the sun peering in from the window, he’s sitting facing the door, like always. You asked him one time after he physically moved you when you tried to sit towards it, “I always want to see who’s coming in.” He claimed it was a safety thing, you didn’t mind. As long as you didn’t sit on the same side and you always got the booth side at a booth table combo table, you couldn’t care who sat where. 

He has his lip pulled into his mouth, softly nibbling at the area. You wanted to pull it out because it always left an odd texture when you make out, you wanna ask him about the menu, to be sure. You also don’t want him to dote on you, make him read out the entire menu, just help fill in some words. 

“Petey?” Start soft, he loves that name. 

He flicks his eyes up and drops his lip from his teeth, “Yes, baby?” 

You point to where you’re looking, he leans over the table to get a better look. 

“Is that third word lettuce?” 

Peter hums, “Correct.” 

You grin, “Okay, thanks.” 

Peter nods and goes back to looking, he’s already figured out what he wants but he knows it makes you flustered when he sits there while you're still trying to figure out what the first page says, so instead when you ask, “What are you getting?” He can say, “Hmm, I don’t know yet, I’m still looking,” You can let out a breath of release and not feel rushed to make a choice. 

You make your way down the list, getting caught at one word. You read it slowly, even mouthing the word, you don’t think you’ve ever heard it before. 

“Peter, under sandwiches, number 3, what the fuck is that last word? I don’t think I’ve ever seen it before.” 

He lets out a soft laugh, “It says arugula, baby.” 

You squint and hold the plastic closer, “That’s how you spell it?” 

“How did you think it was spelled?” 

“Not like that.” You pull the menu away and continue the search. 

“It’s a tricky one, you’re not wrong.” Peter looks over his choice a few more times, he feels like his mouth is watering. 

“It’s a hate crime, actually.” 

He chuckles and sets his menu down, “I chose, got any ideas?” 

You scan over the menu quickly, if all else fails you trust Peter, you’ll have what he’s having. 

“What are you getting?” 

He raises his hands above his head and stretches, “Classic number seven.” 

You waver the option in your head, “That does sound pretty good, actually.” 

“Damn, I was betting on you getting seventeen.” 

“I was thinking about that one, swear to god!” 

Peter leans in like he’s making a great deal, for no one else to hear. 

“Get it and we spit?” 

You think, “Okay, you get half mine and I get half your fries.” 

He holds out his hand to solidify the business deal. 

“And maybe a bite or three of your burger.” 

You stick your hand in his and shake it before he can process what you said and groans, not that he minds, you are giving him half your waffles. 

When the plates are brought out Peter immediately hands you his burger, he will always allow the lady the first bite. Also because he will eat the entire thing in two. You take a bite and set it down, you pass your plate to him and he starts the trade. 

He slides two waffles on his plate, and scoops more than half the fries on yours, then drizzles half the syrup but leaves all the butter for you, he also doesn’t touch the whipped cream even though you know he wants it more than you do, you reach over and take a strawberry off the side and dip it in the cream, you bite down and push it back. You’re telling him to take it, he grins with squinted eyes to show his appreciation. 

You pick his meal up and bite again, working on swallowing you pass it back. Peter eyes it as you work through chewing, “You sure?” You nod, just as he goes to take it you say, “Actually, sorry,” Then take one more, you almost regret not going with his. Until you take a bite of the waffles and you melt, they are the best damn things you’ve ever had. 

—-----------

“I swear you aren’t even trying anymore!” 

Peter was defeated, you didn’t care. He has tried everything to get you to work with him this past week, especially since you bombed an English quiz. You have done nothing, you absolutely refused to read to him, to do any practice work, to read to yourself, to study, nothing to do with reading in the slightest. 

You were caught, and maybe a tiny glad he noticed. It just felt pointless, you would always struggle and no matter what Peter told you, feel like a burden. Like everyone had to help you with everything, it wasn’t Peter’s job to make sure you were reading and passing vocab and working on letter recognition, it was your job and you just didn’t care for it anymore. 

You just shrug carelessly back, you have to look away. His stare of disappointment is making self guilt rise quickly. 

Peter pulls back a little, he sounds lost. His voice is calm, “Hey, you didn’t give up did you?” 

You shake your leg, why do you feel like crying right now? 

Peter squats to get eye level with you, he places his hand on your knee to steady it. 

He shakes his head like he can’t understand where you’re coming from at all. 

“Hey, c’mon. Don’t do this, don’t do this to yourself. You worked too hard to just give up, you’ve gotten yourself here, right?” 

You nod trying to keep from crying, it doesn’t work. Your lower lip trembles and Peter immediately scoops you into his chest and pats your hair as you sob into him. He’s right, you’re hurting no one but yourself but it’s impossible to feel like it’s a never ending process. It feels like you’re walking in quicksand, you’re pacing yourself but it feels like nothing is changing. 

“I’m sorry,” You repeat into his shirt over and over, he shushes you, “You have no reason to be sorry.” 

When you calm you pull away, he presses a kiss to your forehead and wipes away any stray tears. 

“Wanna tell me what’s up?” 

“I just, I’m done, Peter. I am so fucking done, this is so stupid and it makes me feel stupid. And I know it’s not my fault but it is because my brain fucked me over so hard. I am always playing catch-up and it never, ever ends. I am constantly working towards something that will never get fixed. I keep telling myself if I pass this test, or if I read half a chapter with no struggles it’s gone, but I know it's a lie. It’s such a lie because I’ll be like this forever.” 

You start to cry again but stop yourself with a few deep breaths, “It will never get better, so why am I trying?” 

Peter nods, he’s not agreeing, he’s listening. He understands what you mean, he understands the frustration. He wants to tell you it’s not dumb, and it’s not for nothing but he needs to focus on you being okay first. 

“Okay, okay.” He pulls you in tightly and rests his chin on your head. 

“It sounds like you need a break, baby. You’ve been working yourself too hard, and I probably haven’t been helping that. Let’s take a week off, huh? No reading, no questions, no studying, nothing. Just call it quits on words this week, that sound good to you?” 

You nod into his chest and rub your nose against his shirt, an entire week with nothing about dyslexia sounds like just the break you needed. 

“Good, now let me see your pretty face.” You pull from him and grin, he smiles brightly at you, “There’s my girl,” He cups your face and brings you in for a kiss, you lean into it and raise on your toes a little bit to get closer. 

When Peter breaks away he rubs his thumb on your cheek until your eyes flutter open. 

“I love you, you know that, right?” He whispers the words, delicate between you two. 

You nod and lean up for a peck, “I love you too, and I appreciate you a lot.” 

He winks, “As long as you acknowledge it.” 

You groan as he moves away, he smacks your butt and points to his bed. You bounce down and watch as he grabs the book he checked out from the library, it hasn’t even been opened yet. You wait until he sits next to you and gets comfortable, he pats his chest to let you know it’s ready for you to rest your head. 

“Petey, you just said no reading for a week.” 

He nods, “I did. I said you wouldn’t read. You also said I never read to you, so, I think we can swap roles, what do you say?” 

You grin and settle down next to him and rub your cheek into his chest, “Love it, genius idea from my genius boy!” 

Peter kisses the top of your head and cracks the book open to the first page. 

“Chapter one, Jenna is going to die. Well, actually, everyone dies, but Jenna is going to die first, then Sara, then Amberlynn, and finally Jesse. The boy Jesse, not the girl, she doesn’t die, not yet anyways.” 

—---------------

You squint one eye open and bring the pillow over your ears trying to drown out the noise from the kitchen. Your boyfriend is going absolutely ham, singing from his entire being he has drowned out all the noise from the apartment. 

You focus on the music and his wailing, you concentrate and the song clicks. You look around the room and mutter to yourself, “Is he singing fucking Cher?” 

It didn’t end there, the rest of the week he was constantly playing Cher. You didn’t even know he liked her like that, and he’s been acting odd all week. 

He asked you to watch almost every Robin Williams movie with him, and then begged you to watch The View with him, the entertainment news, because Whoopi Goldburg was awesome. You questioned him but gave in, it was odd sure but so was he, so you reckon nothing was terribly out of the ordinary. 

Last night he turned off a Cher cd to turn on the TV, he watched the screen like a hawk. You blinked and looked around, “Why are we watching Anderson Cooper in Al Qaeda?” Peter threw his head back at you, “Why aren’t we watching Anderson Cooper in Al- Qaeda?” 

You hummed in response, “Tushe.” 

It all made sense today, the weird antics he’s put you through the past week. 

“Babe, what do you think of Cher?” 

You furrow your eyebrows, “I mean, I’m not a huge fan but I like her stuff a whole lot more when you sing it.” 

“Aw, thanks. How do you feel about Robin Williams?” 

“Actor god, one of the best from our lifetime. Every line he has is delivered perfectly.” 

“Anderson Cooper?” 

“He looks weird, like he has the same energy as an albino elephant. But he’s a damn good journalist, so no complaints.” 

“Whoopi Goldberg?” 

“Comedic genius. What’s with the questions?” 

He ignores you, “Picasso?” 

“A great artist.” 

“Octavia Spencer?” 

You gasp, “I love her.” 

He tries for one more, “Albert Einstein?” 

“A genius. Smartest man in the world, smartest man to exist. With the exception of ancient Greece.” 

Peter hummed, content with all your answers. 

“You know what you have in common with all of those people?” 

You snort, “No, what?” 

He looks at you, “They’re all dyslexic.” 

You drop your jaw, “No?” 

He nods, “Cher struggled growing up, her’s were numbers. Robin Williams got words mixed up, he used to day “Trick or Trout” as a kid. Anderson Cooper struggled his entire life until he spoke up about it, with reading specialists and intervention he got through high school, then went to Yale. Whoopi Goldberg says her advantage is that she can see things differently, and it’s more interesting than how other people see it, and that she really hated growing up that no one saw her as smart, she was. She just saw everything differently.” 

You were speechless, you just looked at the ground and blinked, these great, amazing people all struggled with what you did. Celebrities, they're just like you! 

“I’m not done. Picasso would flip things around, make art of how his brain saw things. Octavia Spencer struggled with reading out loud, but she was smarter in other places. She would crush mazes and had incredible deductive reasoning. She even wrote two books all by herself, with dyslexia. And Einstein? They thought he was a dumb boy and nothing more because he was so bad with reading and writing, and claimed that words or language, as they are written or spoken don’t play a role in his mechanism of thought. He said that imagination means more than knowledge. Knowledge is limited, imagination encircles the world.”

 “It’s possible, Y/N. It’s okay to get frustrated, it’s okay to take a break but you also have to push through. And it’s not fair, and I don’t know what it’s like for you everyday. But, it’s possible to move on and get a good job, and go to a good college, and struggle less and less along the way. It’s always going to be there, and if I could take that from you sweetheart, I would. But it’s a part of you, and I love that part of you.” 

“You do?” You whisper.

“Of course I do! You’re my girl, and if we have kids and you pass it along then it’s no biggie. Cause they’ll look at their mom and see her living a kick ass life with a disability. It’s all about how you let it define you, I know you see this as never ending but it gets better and easier, it just takes time. I know you hated it, but when you read to me every night I could see you change, you got more confident the more you did it, because you were recognizing words and didn’t freeze over them.” 

“I did?” 

“Yes! Remember how excited you were when I told you that you went three pages without questioning a word? We set that as a new record, when we first started you would barely make it through a paragraph.” 

“Will you do it with me?” 

If you needed to believe in yourself then you needed Peter, because he always believed in you even when you couldn’t understand why. 

“Do what?” 

“Be there for me, let me read to you and help me with word recognition and help me figure out where I’m smart for a boost of confidence.” 

“I’m here for you, baby. No matter what, alright? I would love to help you figure this out, we’re life partners, right?” 

“Right.” You grin at him and he exclaims, “Oh, I got one! Puzzles!” He crouches to pull a box from under the coffee table, “You’re great at puzzles, we can do one together and I’ll cry when you piece it together in an hour.” 

You take the box and hold it against your chest, “Actually, can I read you a chapter of that book? I kinda want to see how Amberlynn dies.” 

“At the rate you read it’ll really build the suspense.” 

You narrow your eyes, “Thin ice, Parker. Thin ice.” 

He raises his hands up in surrender and you grab the book and point for him to sit down, you sit next to him and clear your throat. You take a deep breath and open to the page with a bookmark poking out, you hesitate but ignore your thoughts and start reading, and you go until you can’t stand it anymore. 

You turn to see Peter looking at you with the biggest smile you’ve seen from him. 

“What?” 

He shakes his head, “Not one, Y/N. Not one slip up.” 

[fragileruns]

welcome backk !!

request for tasm!peter - peter would always blow off reader on dates because he's busy fighting crime and stuff like that, and reader has always been patient with him and understanding until she finally had enough. peter went to her apartment without thinking ( so he was still wearing the suit ) because he wanted to make up with reader right away and then he reveals his identity to her and they make up ( can end with smut )

i am terrible at making requests, and sorry if it would be hard to understand T T

anywaysss happy that you're back :D take caree

sorry this request took so long, lovely! i hope you enjoy! sorry for not including any smut, i’m just not the best at writing it yet.

summary: peter’s been showing up late, or not at all, for all your dates recently and you’re upset, until you find out why.

content warnings: fluff mainly, very slight angst, peter being a stressed baby, gn!reader (i think, let me know if not!), not proofread

The first time it happened was a study date. You had been struggling to grasp the new topic that had been introduced in your mathematics class and Peter, being the braniac he was, had been quick to offer to tutor you. He was supposed to come over that Friday night and have a movie night, after you finished studying. You gave him the benefit of the doubt, that maybe he was just running late or had an emergency, but then the hours creeped on and he still never showed. He apologized the next day, claiming May needed help with something and he couldn’t get away (apparently, this ‘something’ had kept him from messaging you that he wouldn’t come, as well, but you decided not to bring that up).

The next time was a bit more annoying. It was date night. You and Peter always set aside at least one day every week to be ‘date night.’ It usually just consisted of take out food and really cheesy movies, but it was nice to be able to spend time together, especially when classes filled up most of your schedules. You had a stressful week, with exams coming up and final projects being due, and you had been looking forward to spending a night with your boyfriend. He always knew how to put you at ease. You waited up for him for hours, but he never showed, again. At least this time he did text you, even though it was nearing midnight and it only read ‘I’m so sorry, this huge emergency came up. I’ll make it up to you with an icecream date tomorrow???’

The cycle continued on. He kept missing minor dates, sometimes showing up hours late or texting you that something came up, and other times just going radio silent until the next day. And you had forgiven him everytime, but he could tell you were getting annoyed and feeling rejected. Rightfully so. He knew he had to make it up to you, somehow, and his best plan of action was to scrape together whatever money he could and find the fanciest restaurant nearby (which wasn’t as fancy as he’d have liked, but it had foods he had never heard of, so he figured it was good enough).

“Okay, listen, I know I’ve been really, really bad at showing up to our dates on time, as in, I haven’t been,” he had started one night, coming into your apartment after one of his classes. You were sitting on the couch, surfing through movies to find something to watch, and he walked over to plop down next to you. “And I know you’ve been stressed with exams, and I just… I want to make it up to you and tell you I’m proud of you for getting through them. So, I made us a reservation at that fancy place - the italian one, down the road? Anyway, it’s for Saturday at 7, and if you don’t totally hate me, I thought it’d be nice.”

You glanced over him, furrowed eyebrows and with only a hint of hope. It was hard to keep believing he’d show up whenever he had missed so many. “I don’t hate you. I just… are you sure you’re gonna show up? I’m really tired of embarrassing myself by just waiting around,” you admitted with a doubtful sigh, and Peter’s heart nearly broke. He felt even worse for missing everything, and he wished more than anything that he could just tell you why.

“Hey, I swear, okay? I — I’m really sorry for missing any of our dates, and I’m sorry you felt embarrassed. But, the only way I don’t show up for this one is if I’m dying in a hospital somewhere, alright?” He rushed to reassure you, hand reaching out to cup your cheek and keep your attention on him. Seeing his puppy dog eyes made you give in quicker than you would have liked to, and you just nodded with a small ‘okay’ to agree. He grinned, leaning in to give you a sweet kiss, before turning back to the TV, decidedly picking some action movie that he thought you’d like.

Saturday came around, and you hated to say it, but you were excited. You had dressed nicely, taking over an hour to get ready just to make sure you looked perfect. You even arrived at the restaurant a few minutes early, waiting outside for Peter to show. He ended up texting you that he’d be running a few minutes late and asked that you went ahead to claim your seats, told you he’d still be there shortly. You lost some hope, but still trusted he’d keep his word and went in to sit down.

By 7:30, most of that trust had died and you apologized to the waiter for wasting so much of her time, but you were sure your date would show. She gave you a sympathetic smile that made you want to curl up and die as you ate your complimentary bread.

By 7:45, you had already send Peter a string of texts, letting him know you were about to leave and would talk to him later. You still hoped he’d respond though, but no luck.

Finally, by 8:00, you had given up all hope and just left, apologizing again to the waiters as you hurried out, eager to get away from the stares. You stopped by a small pizza place on your way back, starving as you hadn’t ate since before noon that day, scarfing down the slice before going to your house. Part of you worried that Peter was, in fact, dying in a hospital somewhere and that was why he didn’t show, though you knew that wasn’t why. Knew he just got caught up with something else, like always.

Peter stared down at his phone, mask held in his other hand as he frowned at your string of texts, all consisting of things like ‘this is humiliating, are you showing up??’ and ‘you promised you’d show.’ He felt that deep pit of guilt, and he didn’t think before swinging to your home, only wanting to make things up to you. Only wanting to make things better before you finally just gave up and broke things off with him. He wasn’t at all focused on the fact that he was wearing his tight suit, mask in his mouth now, identity fully revealed if anyone squinted enough.

His heart was beating a mile a minute, but not because of the adrenaline of the fight or the feeling of whipping through the air. Because he could only imagine how upset and angry you must feel right now, and he felt awful for being the cause of it.

He got to your house in less than half the time it would usually take, moving as quickly as possible, tapping on your bedroom window as soon as he spotted you in bed. You had rolled over at the noise, eyes squinting to see what was going on at first before you spotted him. He noticed the split second of anger that came across your features, but it was quickly replaced with wide eyes as you rushed to let him in. He glanced behind him to make sure nobody was about to throw something at him.

“Peter, you’re —” you had started once you pulled the window up, but you didn’t have time to continue before he started rushing to apologize.

“I’m sosososo sorry, I know I promised and I don’t have a good excuse, and I know you must be so upset right now,” he started, his own eyes wide as he climbed in, hands immediately finding your waist to stand you in front of him, ignoring your own shocked look and attempt at getting words out. “Tell me how to make it up to you, I’ll do anything, I swear. Seriously, Do you want a puppy? A cat? A — a lion? Anything?” He was practically begging.

“Spiderman,” You had responded. His eyebrows furrowed, hands dropping from your waist as he took in what he thought was your request.

“You want — you want Spiderman? Like, a cutout? That’s… okay, I didn’t know you were that big of a fan.”

“No, Peter, you’re… you’re Spiderman,” you stated and he was more confused than ever, but then your hands reached out to grab the mask that had dropped to the floor, and everything clicked together. He had never changed.

“Oh, that — um, I was at a costume party,” he attempted to lie, and it was clear on your face that you weren’t falling for his bluff. “Okay, yes. I’m Spiderman. That’s… sort of why I’ve been so late to everything.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me? Did you not trust me?”

“No. No! That’s not it at all. I just — it’s dangerous. For you to know anything. For you to even be with me, but I’m too selfish to end things. I just didn’t want someone coming after you just because you knew my identity,” he admitted with a frown, upset that you were now in harms way just because of his own stupidity.

“You’ve been doing this alone? You haven’t had any help?”

“What?” He questioned, looking at you as if you had asked the most absurd question possible. You were worried about his help when he had just missed his probably fifth date in a row? And put you in danger? “Um, yeah, I’ve been doing it alone. Look, I’m really sorry about tonight, and I promise —”

“Peter. It’s fine, I’m not mad. Anymore. I just can’t believe you hid this from me. I could’ve helped you, you know?” You cut him off, reaching out to rub your hand over a bruise forming near his eye. He hadn’t really noticed it from the fight, used to being punched around and overly focused on trying to get home to you.

His eyes were wide and filled with both worry and guilt. Guilt over missing tonight. Worry because he had no idea what was going to happen now, because it was about to become ten times harder to keep you safe. If anyone found out you knew his identity, they’d come for you, and Peter really didn’t know how to deal with that.

“I’m sorry. It’s just… I was scared something would happen to you. I can’t lose you,” he admitted, his voice small, and your heart broke.

“You won’t, okay? Nothing’s gonna happen to me, I’m here. But I wish you would’ve told me, I hate thinking about you out there, getting hurt. Not having anyone to patch you up. Is that why you’d wear hoodies so often?”

“Yeah,” he looked slightly embarrassed, and he moved to sit on the edge of your bed, keeping a hold of your hand as you went to sit next to him. “I usually heal up really fast, though, I promise. So it’s not that bad. And I’m really good at patching myself up, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

“Of course I’m gonna worry about you. I worried about you before I knew you were Spiderman, why would you think I wouldn’t worry about this?” You sighed, scooting closer to him as he wrapped his arms aorund you, moving to hide his face in the crook of your neck. You could tell how messed up he felt about it all with how openly he was craving your affection, but you didn’t say anything and instead just put your hands in his hair, scratching his scalp gently.

“Sweetheart, ‘m gonna fall asleep if you keep doing that,” he said, but you didn’t stop and he didn’t stop you.

“That’s fine. Just go to sleep, bug boy.”

He grumbled something out about the nickname, something about being a man and not a boy, but it was quiet, and he almost immediately fell asleep soon after.

[spidervee]

in which you’re expecting peter to come to your rescue, but you end up with someone just a little different 🌻 18+ only; fluff and Peter being a dork

It had been seventeen minutes since you left Peter a voicemail, slightly panicked though trying to keep your voice even as you wrapped your jacket closer around you to stave off the cold.

Pete, hey, it’s me. I, uh, my car broke down—piece of shit—and it’s cold. I called for a tow but my phone’s about to die and…Peter, I’m a little scared but don’t worry��

You’d just managed to blurt out the best approximation of your location that you could manage when your phone gave a pathetic little beep and went black.

Your options were limited—you could get out and walk along the road until you possibly came upon a gas station or something like it. But the snow was coming down heavy now and you hadn’t even brought mittens with you when you left your apartment that morning to visit your sister upstate.

Then there was the option—wish, really—that another car would drive past and see you pulled over in the darkened ditch. That was unlikely, given the late hour and the snow and the fact that you thought you’d be smart by taking side roads. Never again, traffic or no traffic!

Finally, you could…

A light tapping on the passenger’s window draws you from your thoughts with a startled scream and it takes your brain a moment to catch up with what your eyes are seeing. Spider-Man is outside your car, staring in at you with that expressionless mask but waving congenially like this is not the weirdest thing to ever happen. That, or it’s a serial killer dressed in a convincing Spider-Man costume and you’re not sure what’s weirder…or more likely.

But then you notice that Spider-Man is wearing a blue winter hat, extraordinarily like the one you bought Peter for the holidays last year.

No, not like that one…

Actually that one. You can tell from the way there’s a little acrylic pin in the shape of a beaker stuck on the front fold of the hat.

“P—Peter?” You’re not sure if you’re stuttering because of the cold or because of the situation.

You move to open the passenger door, but Spider-Man beats you to it and hops into the car, pulling his hat off and then his mask.

Yeah, it’s Peter.

“Got your message, Bug,” he grins, “Sorry this is weird but it was the fastest way I could get here.”

You hear words coming out of your mouth, a resigned sigh that it’s fine and a thank you for coming, but inside your head is spinning and you think you might faint.

Peter must notice because he leans over and pulls you close. “I’ll get us home,” he tells you, “But we’ll need to come back for the car tomorrow. Oh, and Bug?”

You make a soft noise from where you’ve fallen into the crook of his neck. “As much as you’ll want to, it’s better if you don’t close your eyes.”

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae! I hope your day has been as lovely as you are—which is to say, the loveliest! Could you please write a drabble with tasm!Peter and a reader who is generally not shy but flusters easily when Peter is affectionate and soft? The curse of not being used to it! No worries if not! 💞

Hope your day was as lovely as you are, sweetheart--which is to say, even lovelier <33

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 412 words

“Baby,” Peter laughs, “I know how to dress for the cold.” 

“Right, but this isn’t the subway.” You’re wrapping a scarf around his neck, mouth pulled into a frown. “It’s a long walk to your work, and it’s freezing out. They say it could even snow tonight. This early in the year! Isn’t that crazy?” 

“You’re crazy,” he says warmly. “And cute.” Your eyes dip from his face, lips pressing together to keep a smile at bay. Peter watches it happen amusedly. “If I’m late because you’re putting a dozen layers on me, I’ll just have to web to work.” 

You snap out of your bashfulness. “Peter, that’s even worse. That suit is like wearing nothing!” 

“That’s my point, sweetheart.” Peter takes your face in his hands to press a kiss to your lips, stopping you from reaching for a pair of gloves. You’re outfitted in a coat, scarf, and a hat, appropriate garb for what really is a frigid day. But no matter how many times Peter has told you he runs hot because of his mutation, he doesn’t think you really believe him. 

“I’m gonna go,” he says, “but I’ll come by your work during lunch so you can see none of my fingers have frozen off. I’ll bring you a hot chocolate, okay?” 

You wet your lips, expression softened by the kiss. “You don’t have to do that.” 

“And what if I want to?” He lets his voice drop into a lower register, syrupy sweet. Kisses you again between your brows. “Maybe I wanna thank you for taking such good care of me, did you think of that?” 

He can practically feel the warmth emanating from your skin now. Your face pinches as if in agony. “Stop,” you chide him, but there’s little bite when you can hardly speak above a murmur. “You’re doing this to me on purpose.” 

Peter smiles. “What is it that I’m doing to you, pretty girl?” 

“Peter.” 

“Now I bet you want me gone, huh?” 

He thinks you’re trying to glare at him, but you’re too shy at the moment to pull it off. “Just stay warm.”

“You too.” Peter pulls your hat down over your ears, dropping a kiss on your nose. It’s burning hot under his lips. He suppresses a laugh. 

“You’re so mean.” 

“One of us has to be; you’re too sweet.” He does laugh when you cover your face with your hands, stealing out the door. “See you at lunch!”

[bruisedboys]

Helluu, congrats!!!

I would like to request STAR TRIPPING, blurbs— “i don’t have time for distractions” and (if it’s okay to choose two prompts, if not you can choose the one you want to write:)) “you look so pretty right now” with tasm!pete<3

another old 4k celly request!! sorry this is so late angel. I went with the second prompt, hope this is okay!

tasm!peter parker x gn!reader

Peter’s bleeding out on your bed. Again.

You can’t say you’re very surprised.

“Pete, would you please just stay still? I cant focus when you keep touching me like that.”

Peter isn’t a very good patient. At least not when you’re nursing him. He wants to touch you and look at your face and basically find any way to distract you from the task at hand. Which just so happens to be patching him up.

“Sorry,” he says, pulling his hands away from where they’d been resting in your shoulders, his thumbs tracing your collarbones through your shirt. His shirt, really. But who’s paying attention to that?

You huff. He doesn’t sound very sorry at all. He sounds like he’s smiling. You look up from where your eyes had been trained on his bruised and bloodied chest and find you’re right. He’s smirking.

You glare. Peter balks.

“What?” He says, dripping in fake innocence. “I just— you look so pretty right now.” His eyes go all melty and soft and so does his voice. He reaches up with one hand to cup your burning cheek. “I can’t help it, dove.”

You groan. He’s lovely. And he’s a total menace. You hate him, you swear.

“I can’t believe you,” you say, nudging his hand away with your cheek. “I just got out of bed. I look so gross.”

“You don’t,” Peter says, sounding way more offended than he needs to be. His hand finds your waist and you can feel it’s warmth through the soft fabric of your (his) t-shirt. You very secretly wish he’d dip his hand under the hem like he always does. “You’re beautiful.”

You drop the cloth you’re dabbing his wounds with and climb out of his lap with a huff.

“Y/N—!”

“I’m going back to bed,” you say grumpily, walking away without looking back.

Despite his wounds, Peter catches up with you within an instant, promising to keep his hands to himself until you’re finished cleaning him up. He doesn’t keep his promise. You find you don’t mind as much as you should.

[softtdaisy]

"Don't you fucking dare say you didn't want this to happen. Don't you fucking dare." with Peter Parker ❤️

WHAT IF - PETER PARKER

DESCRIPTION I You were Peter’s favorite what if. But one day, he understood that it can have serious consequences when you make it come true.

PAIRING I tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader

WORD COUNT I 2,2k

A/N I oh my god this is so sad. Thank you for requesting this sweety, I really hope you will love this one because I might have a lot of fun breaking people's heart.... (warning: Peter is a shitty boyfriend)

You’ve always been Peter’s favorite what if.

It started when you were kids. You’ve been neighbors ever since he moved in with May and Ben. And from the day your mom asked you to go and play with the new kid, you’ve never been apart. It was easy to be around Peter. His brain seemed to work way faster than yours and he always had new game ideas. Sometimes there were mistakes, and you would both be grounded. But in the end, it was mainly good memories.

And the one day, the whole what if situation started. You were having a sleepover in your garden. You were both lying on the grass, watching the stars when Peter asked you. “What if we were astronauts?” you turned your head towards him. He seemed so concentrated that you wondered if you imagined his voice. But when he finally gave you a loo, you knew it was a serious question.

“Well, if we were astronauts, we would be super famous.” You replied and Peter laughed with you. “We would have a rainbow space rocket, because we can’t decide on the color. And we would make a great discovery that change the world! So, we can be on history books.”

“Do you think our suits would be rainbow too?”

“Well, I think we can each chose our favorite color.”

From that night, it became a habit. From childish what if, you went on more serious one when you grew up. You would ask some when you had a bad idea like “what if we were living in France?” to imagine another life. There were the drunk one, specially coming from Peter. Like the famous “what if I was a worm?” that broke his heart because you told him he would probably get killed in minutes. You loved to remind him of that what if.

You were on your last year of high school when one night, Peter asked you the most serious what if he ever had.

You were both on your bed. You were working on an essay and Peter was looking at you, thinking about that question that was killing him. “God, I hate this thing.” You sighed, lying on your back. You met Peter’s eyes, which followed your movement. “You, okay?” you asked.

“What if we were in love?” he didn’t hesitate. He needed to say it. He needed to know what you were thinking about this one. Would you take it as a joke, like every other what if he ever asked? Or would you consider it, imagining a world where it would be true?

What Peter never imagined was that you could already be in love with him. Nothing in the world would have make risk your relationship with your best friend for a crush. But this was the best opportunity to see what it could be like. “I guess we would kiss each other.” You replied, still looking at him in the eyes.

You thought he would just nod and talk about something else.

You thought he would laugh about it.

You never thought he would bend over you to kiss you. 

It was your first kiss with Peter. The first of many more. Because, if you never started dating this became a casual thing. “What if we were in love?” became your signal when you both needed love and attention. Dates, kisses, sex… you did everything a normal couple would do. But you weren’t a real couple. You were a what ifcouple. A couple that only existed in a universe you went to when you pretended to be together.

You only realized it could be a bad thing the day Peter came to your house, or more exactly climbed in your bedroom, and asked you that question. He didn’t even wait for your answer before kissing you. His lips were such a drug that you let him do anything he wanted. It was like your brain stopped working and nothing else mattered. That was kind of the deal, technically: when you pretented to be together, nothing in your life existed anymore.

So it wasn’t until you were in bed, that you remembered why you haven’t been a what if couple for weeks. “But…aren’t you dating someone?” you asked Peter in a whispered. Your head was on his chest, his hand playing with your hair. He stopped moving for a few seconds. Like he, too, remembered that detail. 

“I’m not anymore.”

You never knew if Peter had already broken up with his girlfriend at that time. You only knew he was, indeed, single the next day at high school.

When you left for university, your what if couple took a break. You were both in two different states. You just kept having this game over text, with less serious questions. 

“What if I was running for president” / “I would definitely vote for you, Parker.” 

“What if you were stuck with me, in your apartment?” / “You wouldn’t leave this place alive Peter.”

There was something comforting in knowing that you still had your best friend. And those texts helped you think about something other than your real life, full of classes and works. You foolishly believed that it would last forever. 

You were so wrong.

When Peter started dating his new girlfriend, he was texting you less and less. You thought he had found someone new to change his mind and he didn’t need you to pretend he was living another life. His real life was good enough now. And somehow, it helped you go on with your own life too: having new friends, dating other people for real and stopped pretending you were somebody else.

You were back in town for Peter’s birthday. Nothing in the world would have prevented you from celebrating it with him, even though you weren’t as close. You honestly thought it would be a simple party, seeing some old friends, drinking, and having fun. You didn’t think too much of it.

“You’re here!” you heard scream in your back, which made you jump. You turned around just to see Peter running to you and took in his arms. You were literally flying in the middle of the room, your laugh almost covering the music. But it didn’t matter. You were reunited with your favorite person.

“Of course, I am!” you said, finally taking Peter’s face in your hands. “I would never miss your birthday.” You took a few seconds to look at him. He looked more handsome than ever, with his brown hair styled in a messy and clean way, his beautiful brown eyes full of joy and excitement, and those gorgeous pink lips…

It felt like nobody was there, except for you two. If you thought your what if was over, you almost asked him the famous question to start over. It felt right. It felt like the right thing, at the moment. It did, at least, until she arrived.

“Hi, you must be [y/n]” she said in your back. Peter finally put you back on your feet before you turned around to look at her. She was pretty. She was even more than that. She looked like nice too and you felt bad for considering kissing Peter just a few seconds ago. 

Peter walked next to her and put an arm around her shoulder. “[y/n], this is Abby, my…”

“Fiancé!” She had such a big smile on her face that you first thought she was joking. But then she showed you, her hand. And there it was. That beautiful ring that sealed every possibility between you and Peter.

He was engaged.

For real.

“Congratulations to you two,” you put your best smile on your face to hug them. But you noticed Peter’s look on you, and you read through his words. He was close to not tell you the truth. 

But you decided to get overt it for the night. You enjoyed the whole party like nothing happened. You probably won’t see Peter for a few months so there was not point making a scene, right?

The following weekend, Peter was here.

You’ve been working all Saturday on your next essay and didn’t even notice the hours passing. It wasn’t until the bell rang that you looked up and saw the night was already there. You didn’t except anyone. But you still went to open the door, having the feeling it could be important.

And here he was. Peter Parker. His hair wet from the terrible rain outside, wearing a sweat he already had back in high school. You had a kind of flashback to those nights when he would come and find comfort in your arms. You could almost hear him before he spoke.

You wished you didn’t.

“What if I was in love with you?” he said in a raspy voice, like he hasn’t been talking for days and even forgot how to do it.

You were speechless, even breathless from that. Months of not playing and suddenly Peter was shaking your whole routine up. Your eyes fell on his lips, remembering what usually happened next. 

And he noticed. That’s why Peter took a step closer to you, cupped your face between his hands before kissing you like he’s been dying to do. It was a passionate and needy kiss, like you both needed it to live. You quickly grabbed his hair with a hand, while trying to close the door with the other.

Before you noticed it, you were lying on your bed with Peter above you. He was taking off your clothes, kissing every single millimeter of skin he was revealing. You didn’t realize you weren’t fully alive until Peter’s lips on you woke your soul up. You never wanted this to end. You wanted to play pretend for as long as you could.

So that was how you spent the whole night: pretending to be the couple you weren’t. You had sex, multiples times. Ordered diner but barely ate it. Because anytime one of you started talking, the bubble was ready to explode. One word too many and you would realize what you were doing and how bad it was. 

It was selfish to take advantage of that situation. To act like with a simple sentence, the world really stopped turning and you could do whatever you wanted. You felt bad for his fiancé, for the life he was putting aside by being with you.

But surprisingly, you weren’t the one who got angry in the morning.

You woke up because of the noises Peter was making in your bedroom. You saw the flashlight from his phone and wondered what he was looking for. Or even, why he was looking for something right now. “What you are doing?” you asked with difficulty, still sleepy.

“This was stupid.” You didn’t recognize the tone he used. Peter was never the type of person to be mean. Sure, he was angry sometimes and he would say something he regretted later. But he was never purposely mean. But the way he talked to you that morning, it was pure cold hearted. It wasn’t the Peter you knew. 

You sat on your bed, looking at him with confusion. “Yeah, you’re right, it’s not fair, we…”

And he turned to you. “Shut up.”  You never saw his eyes that dark, like he was being possessed. Or maybe he had just become he man you didn’t want to know anymore. “You should have never let that happen.”

“I’m sorry?” you replied with a nervous laugh. “I shouldn’t have? You fucking fly to place Peter to have sex with me!” You didn’t do anything at his birthday when you were dying to kiss him. He travelled to a different taste for a night of pure sex. And you were the bad one? "Don't you fucking dare say you didn't want this to happen. Don't you fucking dare."

He was still looking at you like you were the foolish one. And you couldn’t handle that look no more. So, you got up and went to the bathroom. You hoped by the time you took a shower; Peter would have either calm down or leave your place. He was a cheater. And a liar. And you felt so stupid for falling for his lies. And his fucking stupid game.

When you opened the door again, he was sitting at your table, his eyes locked on his phone. He looked up when you walked past him to get a cup of coffee. “Listen, [y/n], I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten angry to you, I just realized where I was when I woke up and…”

“Peter.” You stopped him. You took a breath. You knew what you were going to say would change everything. But it was time. For both of you.

“What if we broke up for good?”

You saw his expression changed. He felt bad before, now he was just sad. Because it was more than just a what if. 

There won’t be any what if no more. No more kisses. No more escapism.

No more Peter Parker in your life.

“I’ll still love you anyway.” He replied with a low voice. When you didn’t answer, Peter got up to leave. He walked to you with precaution and put a simple and soft kiss on your forehead. One you didn’t offer back. You just watched him leave your place. 

Realizing that this was the first time Peter told you he loved you, for real.

follow @softtdaisywords​ to know when new stories are released 🤍

[outoftheseine]

- TASM!PETER PARKER FIC RECS -

here is to my favorite spiderman

SERIES - MULTI-CHAPTERS

when worlds collide • tasm!peter parker x reader

↳ by @wonderswritings (angst, death)

worth: the series • tasm!peter parker x reader

↳ by @slytherheign (uhhh very angsty)

body bag • tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

↳ by @masterofmunson (enemies to lovers, roommates, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, injuries)

bloody love • tasm!peter parker x reader part 2

↳ by @parkerpeter24 (hanahaki!au, so much angst, unrequited love, blood, surgery, vomiting, mentions of cancer)

ONE-SHOTS

best kinds of kisses • tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

↳ by @ash5monster01 (self doubt, fluff)

band-aid brand • tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

↳ by @kaylawritesfics (injuries, very fluffy)

crush • tasm!peter parker x reader

↳ by @ptersparkers (mild angst, fluff)

the waiter • tasm!peter parker x reader

↳ by @literaila (our peter is jealous, pure fluff)

i know • tasm!peter parker x reader

↳ by @vivwritesfics (fluff)

scared to breath • tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

↳ by @mgparker (ahh so much angst :(, hurt/comfort)

expensive camera lens • tasm!peter parker x gn!reader

↳ by @monsterwho (angst, fire, hurt/comfort)

campus • college!tasm!peter parker x reader

↳ by @webslingingslasher (angst, fluff, smut)

used up tears • peter parker x reader

↳ by @raribella (very very angsty, heartbreaking, soulwrenching, mentions of death of a loved one)

tonight (is gonna be the loneliest) • tasm!peter parker x reader

↳ by @peppermintsparker (angst angst angst, death of loved ones, unrequited love)

i know that voice • tasm!peter parker x reader

↳ by @stylesparker (fluff, humour)

nightmares • tasm!peter parker x reader

↳ by @katyswrites (angst :(, nightmares, mentions of death of a loved one, hurt/comfort, grief, fluff)

hold my body tight even on my lowest nights • tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

↳ by @venus616 (implied mental ilnesses, mild angst, hurt/comfort, fluff)

honeybody • tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

↳ by @luveline (fluff, mentions of self-harm, strangers to friends to lovers)

doughnuts • tasm!peter parker x fem!afab!reader

↳ by @forourmoons (very fluffy)

cooties • tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

↳ by @msgorillagripcoochie (fluff fluff fluff)

fire alarms • tasm!peter parker x reader

↳ by @spideystevie (fluff)

[headkiss]

hey can i pls request peter with a gf who’s scared of spiders??

hiii this idea is so cute i hope u like it (sorry it’s a shorter one!!) | 0.4k of fluff and a spider !

“Peter!” You all but shriek from the bathroom.

Being who he is, the hairs on his arms and that back of his neck raise, his senses dig deeper to find any sort of danger. He doesn’t feel anything. He runs to you all the same.

“Bug? What’s wrong?”

“There’s a spider on the wall,” you point, wrapped in your towel post-shower, which is enough to distract him for a moment.

“Just a spider?” He tries not to smile or laugh. He has to cover his mouth with his hand.

It’s ironic, you being so afraid of spiders and dating Spider-Man himself. What a trip. As much as he teases you for it, he can’t deny feeling proud of himself every time he takes a spider out of the apartment in a glass with a spare bit of paper held over the opening. He’s just happy to help you.

“It’s not ‘just’ a spider, Peter. It’s a huge one.”

You can't even bring yourself to look away from it. Like as soon as you look away, it’ll pounce on you.

“Okay. It’s fine, I’ll get it out.”

He rushes to grab his usual supplies, and walks over to the wall where the spider sits slowly, trying not to startle it. You hold your towel to yourself tightly, wince at the sight of the creature bugging you.

“It’s looking at me,” you say.

“‘Cause you’re pretty.”

“Peter.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m getting it.”

He places the cup over it carefully, and you let out a small squeal when it moves around inside.

The first time Peter had to save you from a spider, he was prepared to smush it with the nearest object he could find. He only didn’t because you’d stopped him saying, ‘don’t kill it! It’s your relative!’

He couldn’t hold in the laugh at that, though you genuinely sounded concerned. He just thinks you’re the cutest ever.

Now, he slides the paper beneath the cup, a technique he’s had to master especially while living with you, and begins to carry the spider away to the widow of your fire escape. As soon as it’s outside, he shuts the window and turns to look at you, still in your towel, shuffling on your feet and shivering just a bit.

“All done, bug,” he says, walking over to you and rubbing his hands up and down your upper arms for warmth. “How about you get dressed and we can watch a movie?”

You lean your head against his chest just for a moment, careful not to get his shirt wet with your hair, “thanks, Peter. Best boyfriend and spider remover ever.”

“Can I have an award for that?”

[mara-and-its-the-same]

There is nothing like staying at home, for real comfort 🌷: maybe a study session turned cuddle with tasm peter parker?

I don't know if you were expecting science but I just cannot. So r has a test on Othello and yeah, it's cute, I like it. thank you for requesting <3 I had fun writing it

WC: 910 (yay my first blurb under 1000 words, improvement)

The very second you sat back down at your desk, half convinced you’re focused enough from another session of pacing around your room, the buzzer went off. You’d almost be annoyed but you didn’t have the time with the half second it took you to realize it had to be Peter. Any other day you’d run over to the door, but today the exhaustion was getting to you. Settling for a rushed walk instead, you leaned down to speak into the little microphone. “Come on up, bugboy.”

“Actually,” you nearly screamed at the voice from outside your half open window. You had your hand over your heart and your back leaning on the wall while Peter watched, hanging upside down with that stupidly adorable smile. “Spiders are arachnids, not bugs.” He lowered himself to the floor and pulled the web down from your fire escape and you practically ran to open the window the rest of the way. You didn’t give him the chance to duck under the window on his own with the way you pulled him down with a hand to the back of his neck. He had to hold himself up with one hand on the sill and the other on the wrist of your hand in his hair. The kiss itself was much gentler than the way you wrapped him into it, but he was alright with that, though with how much he missed you he wouldn’t have minded more. “I haven’t seen you all day.”

“I know, it’s been too long.”

“Mhm, 12 whole hours, basically eternity.”

“If I remember correctly, it’s been 13.”

“Probably right,” he nudged you back a bit so he could climb in and shut the window without turning from you. “And how many of those did you sleep?”

“Hm,” you clicked your tongue while thinking of the best answer that wouldn’t get you sent to bed immediately, but decided the truth was enough. “Um, 5?” Wrong answer, you could see it on his face. “And a half, 5 and a half.”

“And what were you doing all the other 7.5?”

“I don’t know what it is about this essay but I can’t get it right.” You dropped your face into his shoulder and he tried scratching at the back of your neck in an attempt to comfort you.

“For your lit class? When’s it due?”

“That’s the thing,” you rested your chin on his chest and looked up at him with pleading eyes, not really knowing what you were asking for. “I’m just writing it as a practice for my exam, it’s in two days and if I can’t answer the essay question, what’s the point?”

“She gave you the essay question?”

“Yeah. Well, it’s just to analyze a scene and talk about what it means and blah blah blah whatever,” you talked while he pulled you into your room. “But I can’t focus and it’s like my eyeballs want me to fail.”

You stood behind him while he looked over your desk of loose index cards, open binders and notebooks with margins overrun with scribbles, and of course the half written essay on your laptop.

“You wanna sit down and I’ll quiz you on it? So you don’t have to strain your eyes anymore?” He started picking up the notecards before you even answered, just to organize for you if nothing else. You listened and sat on your bed with your back against the wall. 

“Yeah, that’s ok.”

“Good, ok, yeah. These ones?” He held up the colorful neon flash cards. 

“Mhm, Othello.”

Peter hasn’t even thought of Shakespeare since Macbeth senior year. Too wrapped up in more scientific studies and uh, spiderman-ing. But he’d do it for you. 

Three-quarters of the way through the set he could see your breath evening out and your eyes fluttering. 

“Here, lay down,” he guided you forward by the shoulder. 

“Hm?” 

“I’ll read to you.” He slid in behind you on the bed and pulled the blankets over both of you. 

“You don’t have your glasses.”

“I’ll manage,” he reached over to grab the book off the table then relaxed back down to pull you to his chest. 

“You’ll strain your eyes.” As if he didn’t arrive by swinging from building to building, that’s the danger you were worried about. 

“I’ll manage.” 

Your head was on his chest and he read over your shoulder. 

“Start here,” you pointed to the section your essay was focused on, half way through a passage. 

“She gave me for my pains a world of sighs: She swore, in faith, ‘twas strange, 'twas passing strange, 'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful: She wish'd she had not heard it, yet she wish'd That heaven had made her such a man: she thank'd me, And bade me, if I had a friend that loved her, I should but teach him how to tell my story. And that would woo her. Upon this hint I spake: She loved me for the dangers I had pass'd, And I loved her that she did pity them. This only is the witchcraft I have used: Here comes the lady; let her witness it.”

He looked down at you to find you sleeping, happy that you finally found a moment’s rest. He kissed your forehead, wherever he could reach. “I love you.” He wasn’t even sure you could hear, but he needed you to know anyway. 

“I love you,” you mumbled into his chest.

[parkerpeter24]

can you do mcu Peter Parker x reader where the reader is really sick and takes medicine that makes them all sleepy so he takes care of her and helps her take a bath and even blow dries her hair for her. Thanks and I absolutely adore your writing 😘

oh thanks 🥺 im so glad to know you like my writing 🫶 hope you like this one too heh

pairing ➳ peter parker x reader

requests are open

masterlist

it was date night. you were sick on a date night. nothing could have been worse than that but at least peter was by your side. he had promised you a day before that he would come over as soon as the last bell rang and he’d seemed to kept up said promise because there was knocking at your window.

you opened your eyes and forced yourself out of bed, not wanting to get up but wanting peter to be by your side more than anything. you’d taken paracetamol for the fever which was making you super drowsy. making your way to the window with small steps, you unlocked it so that your boyfriend could enter inside.

peter hopped inside your room, quickly closing the window shut and throwing his bag on the floor.

“are you alright? are you cold?” he asked, placing a hand over your forehead.

“a little.” you replied, leaning into his touch. peter was quick– but gentle– to wrap his arms around your waist. you nuzzled your burning face into his chest, arms hanging by your side.

“do you want me to carry you to the bed?” peter asked, not wanting to cause you any discomfort while still being of help. you nodded against his midtown sweatshirt and before you could notice he’d picked you up bridal style, walking you to the bed before placing you down.

“want anything else, sweetheart?” he asked once more as he saw your heavy eyes close. all you did was shifted back and pulled back your blankets, a sign which he understood.

peter crawled onto your bed, pulling the sheets around his frame before he pulled you closer to him, an arm going around you and rubbing up and down your back, “if you need anything, you can-”

peter’s sentence was cut short when you shook your head, “let’s just sleep.”

“okay, we can sleep.” he gave your forehead a little kiss and soon with peter’s hand running up and down your back, sleep overtook you.

you woke up with a sore throat and peter was missing from the bed. your voice was a whisper when you called his name but peter’s head poked inside your room before he was completely entering your room, a cup in his hands, “where’d you go?” you asked.

“i made you some tea, you were shivering.” he said, keeping the tea on your bedside table and helping you sit up.

you leaned against peter’s shoulder as he got into bed and handed you your tea, “you feeling any better.”

“sorta? still very sleepy.”

peter’s hand travelled to your forehead once more, taking your temperature, “you’re still hot.”

“damn.” you chuckled, “you really know how to make a lady’s heart swoon, don’t you?”

“hey! you know what i mean!” peter chuckled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “maybe you should try a cold bath.”

“huh?”

“i’ve heard that taking a cold bath helps with fever.”

“well, i’m too tired to run a bath-”

“i got it covered!” peter said. a little peck on your cheek and the brunette was off to the bathroom. you admired how much peter was invested on taking care of you but you were worried for the same too. you knew he’d stayed up the whole time while you were sleeping, just in case you woke up and needed anything.

“come on, let’s get you into the water.” peter was by your side, holding your hand and walking with you to the bathroom. he turned around when you started to unbutton the shirt you’d had on, it was one of his.

you loved this about peter. he was so considerate of your feelings, not wanting you to feel uncomfortable even after having you seen naked not just once but two times by now.

you dipped your feet into the water too quick, not remembering it was supposed to be cold. you almost lost your footing but peter’s senses kicked in and his arms were catching you before you could touch the ground.

“easy.” he stated as he helped you inside the tub. you shivered and winced at the cold feeling.

“i-it’s too cold.” you gave peter a frown.

“it’s supposed to be that cold, baby.” he knelt to the floor, placing a gentle hand over arm, “give it a few minutes, okay?”

once the water started feeling less colder, you relaxed, leaning against the tub. peter rinsed your hair and took time to shampoo them. you hummed as he massaged your scalp, “this is nice.”

“told you it would help.” peter grinned.

after your bath, peter supported you up to your feet with you stumbling a little and clinging to his side. grabbing a towel, you wrapped it around yourself before the two of you made your way out of the bathroom.

“im sorry i ruined your clothes.” you mumbled as peter brought fresh clothes for you.

“it’s just water.” he shrugged, “they’ll dry.”

“change into something, i don’t want us both to be sick. that’s not like, a couple goal.” peter laughed and you tried not to, because of your scratchy throat.

you changed into the clothes peter had handed you before getting back into bed. you were feeling a bit better than you did before that bath.

peter came back into the room soon after and got into the bed with you, “good?”

“very good.” you nestled into him, “are you good?”

“i’m alright.”

“are you sure? you were looking after me so much and i think you should get some-”

a soft snore fell out of your boyfriend’s mouth and your eyes travelled to his sleeping figure. he was out before you could complete your sentence.

“rest.” you smiled, adjusting the blanket around him.

you made sure to order his favourite pizza, deciding you’d wake him up before it was dinner time. he deserved the rest after the long day he’d had.