#ves.writes peter parker

[ladyvesuvia]

patching up peter parker and he confesses his love for u? :)

two confessions in one night.

PAIRING: Peter Parker x GN!Reader

WORDS: 0.8k

SUMMARY: When a wounded Peter pays you a much needed visit at three in the morning, two truths reveal itself.

A/N: had too much fun writing this so it got longer than intended i’m sorry HSNXBRJW

marvel masterlist.

A knock on your window awoke you.

“This better not be you, Peter. This better NOT be you,” you mumbled to yourself, half-hoping you were only dreaming.

Even more so when you hopped out of your bed only to be greeted by the very face you wished to imagine sleeping peacefully in his own bed stained by blood you weren’t sure about the source of.

“Peter!” you exclaimed, the drowsiness gone in an instant. You immediately went after your window, pulling it up open to let him climb in. “It’s three in the morning! What is wrong with you?”

“I’m — I am so sorry for interrupting you. It’s just that Ned wasn’t in town and MJ’s asleep because she has plans tomorrow and —”

“Are you seriously apologizing about ‘bothering’ me? You’re not, Peter. You’re never bothering me. Sit down. I’m gonna go get you . . .” You assessed his wounds. “Well, everything. I’ll get the kit.”

You came back a while later, carrying two plastic boxes and tossing it onto the bed right beside him. You pulled your desk chair, dragging it in front of Peter and taking your seat.

You got to work, opening the box and applying the appropriate treatments and grabbing the respectful bandages. You started cleaning his wounds first.

You could sense him staring, but you don’t say anything. He does, though. “Um, [Y/N]?”

You say nothing.

“[Y/N]? You’re — you’re not saying anything. You’re scaring me. Are you — are we okay?”

“I’m scaring you? You are literally decorated with a pattern of wounds right now, Peter. It’s so careless of you! What if you — I don’t know — get hit by a bus?”

He started laughing, and you wanted to shut him up so bad. “Well, you do know I can sense that, right? And I could stop it even if it does reach me?”

“What if you get . . .” You started thinking. “What if your identity was revealed and now everyone is hot on your tail? Then what?”

“Then it’s good to know you’d be there for me.”

You stared at each other for a good solid five seconds before you found yourself talking, or at least the closest thing to it: “Oh.”

“Sorry.”

“I mean, yeah, sure I would be there for you. And Ned and MJ, of course.”

“Yeah,” he agreed jokingly. “Ned — Ned and MJ, definitely.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, continuing on working on the scratches on his face. “I hate you, you know.”

Peter moved an inch, you had to steady his face with your other hand. “What? Why?”

“You keep getting into these deadly scenarios. One of these days, I’m gonna find you dead in a ditch. I don’t like that.”

“Well, I don’t wanna die yet,” he chuckled. “At least, not until I’ve. . .” He continued on, but the rest of what he said was mumbled.

“What?”

“I’ve told you that, well, you know.”

“I don’t,” you started, willing him to spit out what it is he seemed to have been keeping for a while now.

“Okay, okay,” he said, sighing as he pulled away from you. You could see him even clearer in this light. “Let’s just say that I — I practiced . . . this?”

“Okay? And? What did you practice?”

“[Y/N], I understand if you’d think this is weird because it is weird, right? I mean, for you, at least. Not me, though. I — I just think that maybe if I said this, you would never—”

“Spit it out, Peter Parker,” you said, crossing your arms at him.

“I like you,” he admitted, eyes hopeful once more.

“Oh,” you let out.

“That’s — that’s the second ‘Oh’ you have ‘Oh’d’ today.”

You had to laugh at that, and it was quite obvious he was just as pleased to see your eyes light up. “Well, now that you’ve said that, don’t be fine with dying still. Because then you wouldn’t be able to do anything with my feelings. God, I hate that word. But, well, yeah, you know. I do like you, too, if that much wasn’t clear.”

Silence for the next minute.

“You know,” you began, “when you showed up a couple minutes ago, I had hoped it wasn’t you.”

“You don’t — you don’t want me here?”

“Oh, I want you here, alright. Just not all bloody and in pain.”

“Then I’ll go through the front door next time. With flowers, perhaps?” he said with the sweetest smile possible. Or maybe that’s just how you saw all of his smiles — perfect.

“That would be great. And as Peter Parker, too, please. My family would post shit tons of pictures of Spider-Man on Facebook captioned with, ‘Our [Y/N]’ is dating FNSM!”

“FNSM?” he laughed both in confusion and disbelief.

“Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man. You get it. Anyway, I — I want them to like Peter Parker.”

“I want them to like Peter Parker, too.”

“They will.”

“How do you know that?” he asked.

And out came a new confession: “Well, for starters, I’ve already talked about you to them and I may or may not have shown them a picture of you. They, uh, said you were cute.”

“I am?” he asked, but you saw right through it.

“Alright, shut up. Yes, yes, you are.”

[ladyvesuvia]

peter parker angst where both peter and reader feel insecure about their relationship???

by nine

PAIRING: peter parker x gn!reader

WORDS: 1.6k

REMINDER(S): wrote this to get out of reading slump. kinda messy. not my best but wtvr anw relationship insecurities. angst no comfort no happy endings i hate happy endings boo hoo go cry about it jk i love my fluff lover babies

A/N: imagine any peter u want life is short be a delusional little bitch

It’s so easy to love a hero. Being with a masked one has its own charm; one being the constant feeling of gratitude and positive disbelief because, after all, you were loving the hero. And he loved you back. You.

But sometimes, the cons outweigh everything else where you’d sometimes find yourself sitting on a chair you forced yourself to carry from the small space you could call the dining room all the way out to your apartment balcony, waiting for a little figure somewhere in the distance swinging from one building to another.

The cake you ordered for yourself had started losing its spark that you took three spoonfuls before deciding your appetite had disappeared.

There was still no sign of the same masked ‘hero.’

“I’ll be there by nine,” he had told you yesterday.

About a couple minutes ago, just a few seconds before nine, you closed your eyes, hoping that when you opened it, a little jumpscare would bring back your appetite.

Nothing had happened. And it’s been quite some time now.

You checked your phone, hoping that maybe, just maybe, the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man could be a decent enough boyfriend to send a text.

You stood up from your chair, leaning on the railing and checking left and right, looking for any sign of him.

“I’ll be there, alright?” he had told you just the day before. He’d been on the railing you’re now leaning on, and you so badly had wanted to take the mask from his sweaty palms and rip it up. “I promise.”

“Do you really?” The sun was only starting to set yesterday during this exchange, and his smile looked a lot more promising in that light.

“I really,” he nodded aggressively. “Oh, I really, really, really really.”

“Nerd.”

“A nerd who makes promises.”

And here you are, waiting for him to fulfill that promise. You opened your phone, begrudgingly ringing his phone.

“Shitty promises,” you thought to yourself as you checked the time. 21:39.

Are you expecting anything? you asked yourself, slowly antagonizing your own motives and his. Expecting what? For him to press pause on screaming damsels and tell perpetrators to stop their crimes just so he could answer some random person’s phone call?

You ended the call before it could head straight to voicemail. What even was the point anymore? You moved away from the railing, pulling your chair along with you while staring at the other empty chair across the tiny patio table you’d also carried hours ago.

You had come back to pull the other chair you’d brought out for him, but he had just landed on the railing you had just been leaning on a second ago.

He had his mask off, but he still had it crumpled in his hand. You stared at him for a solid three seconds before deciding it wasn’t worth your time, yanking the chair away and carrying it with one hand while using the other to open the door.

“[Y/N]—”

“I can carry it just fine,” you said with no entertainment whatsoever.

“I know it’s late, I’m sorry, but I—”

You dropped the chair as gently as you could so as to not wake anyone. “Was saving the world, what else could it be?”

“I mean, it’s just the city. Sorry. I mean—”

You crossed your arms. “You said you’d be here by—”

Peter scratched his nose with the hand he was holding his mask with, adjusting his seat on your railing. “—Nine, I know. It’s just that—”

“Some cat got stuck up in a tree? Some— I don’t even know anymore! And frankly, I don’t even care. I just want you to be here when you say you will.”

“And I’m here,” he said, his brows furrowing. It’s so strange seeing his face to that thing where he’s at war with himself.

It was the one of the many things that got you all head over heels for him the first time you knew there was more to him than his charm. It had been so funny seeing him get all confused and agitated at the same time for a second in class and looking all genius the second he got the right answer.

“Yeah, like, an hour later. I just want to sleep right now, alright?”

“No, no, let’s celebrate your birthday.” Peter hopped off the railing, his hand on yours before taking the chair with him. He sat down on it, looking at you with those god forsaken terribly convincing eyes you just wanted to be convinced by.

“I don’t even get to hold your hand anymore,” you muttered under your breath. He heard that still.

Peter drew closer, looking up at you as he took your hands into his, and you could only feel the texture of his suit. It feels like a stranger’s.

You looked back at him. He’s waiting for you tk say something, and it took you a long time to realize you’d been waiting for yourself to say something, too.

You obliged. “Do you want to end things? You can just say so.”

“What? No! Why would you—? Do — er — do you?”

“I — it’s not that — it’s just that you say that you’re going to do this but then you don’t and then you say all of this is worth your time and yet you can’t even give me ten minutes—!”

His brows furrowed even more. “I am giving you—”

“No, let me finish,” you say with a louder voice than you had intended before realizing you hadn’t gathered enough words to continue on. You look everywhere else but his eyes. You weren’t gonna do that now.

He’s waiting, and he’s letting you talk. So talk, you told yourself.

You cleared your throat, looking up. “It’s just that” — you swallowed the lump in your throat, your pride staying up, threatening to burst — “you tell me all these . . . these great things and make all these hopeful promises but you’re . . . you’re Spider-Man, y-you know?”

“What do you mean?” The moment his bright demeanor dropped, you knew this wasn’t going to end well. Was this even him? Or is it some other Spider-Man? Some other Peter Parker, perhaps? You looked at him, taking a tiny glimpse to make sure.

It is him. Only that his eyes were shining, and not in the way you wanted it to. Yours were probably shining, too.

See, dating the masked hero of the city is great. Wonderful, even. Nobody knew, of course, but it was the tiny little secret that kept it alive. But it’s also the same one that would kill it.

You saw it coming. Heck, he probably saw it, too.

You took a deep breath.

He stood up. “Let’s just celebrate your birthday, [Y.N], okay?”

You pretend not to see him raising his hand only to put it down.

It was your turn to take a breather. You leaned against the railing, the hum of the busy city doing nothing to relieve you from any of this.

Do I read too much into everything you do? Do you think of anything I do at all? Do you want to end things? Are you just waiting for me to do it?

“No, I can’t— I can’t just get some cake and ‘celebrate’ with you right now, Spi— Peter.” Even his name feels like uncharted territory. You pretend not to have seen him flinch at the uncertainty. “Are we really cut out for this?”

You expected him to try and find his words, ask what it is you thought the two of you were not cut out for, or at least assure you that you were, and that he’d make it up next time.

Anything but “I don’t know.”

You should’ve been angered, you knew that. But you didn’t know, either. “Me too.”

Silence.

You didn’t even realize he was leaning on the railing right beside you, looking out at the city. The only light right now was the inconsistent pattern of condominium room lights open; at least, those not covered by thick linen curtains.

There were also the countless cars passing by, but you paid no mind to the city at this moment because this could be the last time you’d ever see his face again.

“I don’t think we are,” you managed to confess. He only nodded in answer, but there was constant bickering in his head. “I’d say I need more time to think but I . . . I’ve had quite a few to do so and maybe it’s better if we just. . .”

You waited for him to cut you off and disagree.

He didn’t.

He’s made up his mind, hasn’t he?

You took a deep breath once more. “It’s better if we just stay away from each other.”

“For a while?” Peter asked, hopeful.

“No.”

“Oh, I. . .” He looked away. “I’m sorry. Okay. That — that makes sense. I understand.” He didn’t.

You changed your mind. It was easy to love Peter Parker. But loving Spider-Man? Oh, what a tragedy it was. The sometimes reeked of always.

It was always waiting for something, and it was always more tiring than exhilarating. You so badly wanted to ask him why can’t things just go back to the way it was, cry into his chest and deliriously confess that you just wish that spider hadn’t done everybody else in the city a stupid favor and that you just wanted your Peter back.

But that would be too selfish, and so you waited.

“Do you want me to go?” Please tell me no, he thought as he said so.

No. “Yes.”

And just like that, the anonymous hero was gone and with him your best friend.

poosi tight poosi clean poosi fresh ty for getting me out of the slump a bit nonnie i love you

[ladyvesuvia]

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[by nine] ✿ — Relationship insecurities might just be what ruins what you have with each other.

[two confessions in one night] ❂ — When a wounded Peter pays you a much needed visit at three in the morning, two truths reveal itself.