୧ ‧₊˚ 🫖 ⋅ ☆ pairing : ̗̀➛ mike wheeler x babysitter!reader
( #‧₊˚ ) synopsis ; mike and the others arrive late to the house to find little holly’s babysitter cleaning up the basement.
( #‧₊˚ ) words ; 1.6k
YOU DIDN’T KNOW MUCH ABOUT THE PARTY. You’ve seen them running around school, always with a suspicious scheme murmured in hushed voices wherever they went. It wasn’t until you started babysitting the youngest Wheeler girl that you started to really pay attention to them.
You knew Max Mayfield, both of you sharing a cemented hatred for your history teacher and his monotone voice and unorganized assignments that not only bored you to death but made no sense. The girl with pretty fiery hair was someone you hung out with on occasion. She had been your ultimate friend crush when she first arrived at Hawkins in your late middle school years, and it took a bunch of your courage before you even spoke a word to her. She ran along the party and would always greet you when you coincided at the Wheelers as you worked. Though, you didn’t see much of her anymore.
Either way, your knowledge of their antics was limited. You doubted they paid any mind to you even when you had started babysitting a long time ago.
Holly was your most consistent kid, and if you were honest, your favorite. You only babysat two other kids than her, children from the women at your mother’s job. But they weren’t like your little Holly.
She was a sensitive girl, but one full of light and love. She would always get excited when you were over, easily follow you along, and always the sweetest when asking for anything. Her conversations were fun, and while babysitting always exhausted you, you always felt at peace with Holly. Today, it was no different.
Holly fell asleep earlier than usual, having been exhausted from the playdate Mrs. Wheeler had asked you to host her. You were currently in the basement picking up from the floor the blankets and teacup set up when the back door was slammed open.
“I’m telling you, you could’ve killed it if you had chosen to blast it with your cannon!”
“There is no way I would have rolled a number high enough for that–”
“The club would not allow that, have you even been paying attention to the campaig–” Dustin Henderson stood past the door when he saw you, “oh, hi.”
You stood from the ground holding the folded blankets, “hi.”
“What are you doing here?” Mike spits out, drawing his eyebrows together.
You raise an eyebrow at him as you balance the blanket pile in your arms, “um… cleaning up?”
He flinched at his own words, “No, yeah. I know. Sorry, I meant… I didn’t know you were working tonight, where’s my mum?”
“Hospital. The sweet older lady around the corner had a small accident, your mom drove her. She called me last minute to watch Holly and her friends.”
“Oh”
“Yeah”
The group stood there as they stared in silence, the weirdness of the interaction stretching.
“Is she okay?” Lucas Sinclair asked, intercepting the awkwardness.
“Hm?” you asked, taken aback, “oh, yeah. Mrs Wheeler called to say she would get back home late, and told me that it was nothing major.”
“Oh that’s good,” the boys nodded along.
“Mhm” before the awkward silence could settle back in, you tried to crouch again to grab the pillows on the floor, “well, let me finish cleaning up and the basement is all yours guys.”
Mike leaned forward, dropping his backpack on the floor, and grabbed the pillows for you, “here, let me help you.”
“Oh, you don’t have you,” you placed some of the dishes on top the blanket piles, “It’s okay, really. I can make the double trip up and down the stairs.”
“I don’t mind,” Mike offered you a soft smile as he placed the pillows back on the couch and grabbed all the dishes from you, “I was going to grab some snacks either way.”
He turned back to tell his friends to choose a movie before leading you up the stairs, opening the basement door for you despite having his hands full.
As you walked off to the laundry area to put the blankets away, he disappeared to the kitchen to leave the dishes. You placed the blanket Holly had spilled her juice on inside the washer and let the cycle begin.When you walked back to the kitchen, you were surprised to find Mike still there, washing the little teacups and placing them on the dish rack. “Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to leave that to you, I can take over if you’d like.”
“Eh it’s okay, I got it” he shrugged without really looking at you, scrubbing away.
You moved towards the sink beside him, pulling your sleeves back and grabbing the soapy dishes, “here, I’ll rinse them off.”
He didn’t protest, letting you settle comfortably next to him. He glanced briefly at you, before quickly looking away.
His actions surprised you. Mike Wheeler, in appearance, was anything but what you were seeing. He was tall, in that scrawny type of way, with long and unkempt black hair. From this close, you could notice the light freckles scattered through his pale face. His brown eyes avoided you, but when he spared you a glance, they held this warmth that solidified you.
But he was still a teenage boy. A weird one at that. You saw him in school, with his nerdy shirts from his little club. Truthfully, every time he appeared in your line of sight, he seemed taller than the last time, with that awkward posture as if he was making himself smaller. He was always running around with that air of security which confused you. You were sure Mike was not popular at all, in fact, he probably was closer to the bottom line of the social pyramid than you could ever imagine. But he had a slight confidence in his speech. You had no idea what his group was up to, disappearing at random moments in time, often hanging out with grown ups, and speaking in low whispers.
They had been victims to the idiocy of pubescent schoolboys who had often made their lives difficult for being “different.” You were not Miss Popularity at all, but you seemed to be more acceptable to your peers than the party had ever been.
And despite the lack of kindness and respect he received by your fellow classmates, Mike still had this sense of self-reassurance in himself. He was still awfully shy, which only confused you further. It was admirable, truly, but it clued you how he remained so sure of himself? All the while by being a stuttering mess when you were forced to interact
“So.. um, how was the game?” you opted for small conversation before the hollow silence swallowed you whole again.
“Huh?”
“What you guys play in school?” you asked, moving your head to the side, “the dragon’s game?”
“Oh the campaign,” he nodded, “it went well, I guess. Lucas almost died to a troll.”
“Oh”
“Yeah, take a good beating to it.” He kept sharing, scrubbing extra hard at the dried tea, “Grey had to step in and save him, but honestly, I told him that he could have just rolled a 10 and–” he turned to you and noticed your concealed scrunch of eyebrows in confusion, stopping himself as his ear went a little pink, “sorry, I don't mean to bore you with my nerd talk.”
You laughed softly at that, cracking a soft smile, “no, I like it. It sounds like you guys have fun playing.”
He smiled and added lowly, “yeah, we do.”
Together, you quickly finished rinsing the dishes and putting them away. As he dried his hands with the cloth on the rack beside him, you smiled shyly up at him, moving a piece of your hair away from your face, “well, thank you for your help.”
Mike shoved his hands inside his jeans pockets and just nodded, “like I said, it’s nothing, really.”
A silence settled between the two, but not as awkward as earlier. It was quiet in a post-noise type of way, comfortably settling in along with the sound of crickets from the outside, and the moonlight creeping in through the kitchen window.
“How was Holly by the way? She kept you up very late, not much trouble I hope?” you perked up at the question, and went to respond how it had not been that at all. You leaned back as you shared her little antics of the day, and how she insisted on prepping a meal for you consisting of crackers and strawberry yogurt, not moving as she intensely watched you eat them all. He laughed and reminiscenced on when she did that with him over lunch once, but instead of crackers, she had offered him tomato slices.
The conversation was light, awkward but warm. Mostly about what you and Holly did today, and very short-lived as you heard Lucas from downstairs nagging Mike to hurry up with the popcorn.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to hold you hostage up here,” you grinned at him as Mike rolled his eyes at his friend’s complaints.
“They are such babies, I swear.”
He went to put the popcorn inside the microwave as you left to pick up your bag from the living room. When you turned to leave, Mike came back to walk you to the door.
As you stepped out of the house, you turned back to look at him, “Well, see you around Wheeler. Enjoy your popcorn.”
“Sure” he responded quietly, looking down at you in that way as if you’d kicked a puppy, “see you around.”
But as you reached for your bike, you couldn’t help but feel curious about the dark haired boy. Looking at the bikes discarded in the driveway, you pushed away with a thought nagging at the back of your mind.
You may not know much about the party, but you sure wanted to get Mike Wheeler’s puppy eyes to look your way more.
୧ ‧₊˚ 🫖 ⋅ ☆ note ; I am coping with the st5 finale so badly, that I burst out crying at random moments in time even three days after. so! I'm choosing to ignore everything about it and finally getting back to writing. yaaay! (?)
Walking down the colorfully lit path, you shivered at the cold breeze. Bringing your gloved hands to your mouth, you blew some air and rubbed them together in an attempt to get warmer.
You had dragged JASON to walk around the local park and watch the Christmas lights. Your excitement at his willingness had surprised him, but your negligence of bringing enough layers for the cold temperature did not.
The man walking beside you glanced at you, “you okay?”
“I’m fine,” you lied, teeth chattering. Despite your short sentence, your breath puffs were visible in the icy air, and your nonstop shivering was hard to ignore.
At that, Jason sighed and took off his red scarf, lightly draping it over your shoulders. The warmth of him being so close and the lingering scent of coffee and gunpowder making your heart skip.
“You don’t need to do that, I don’t want you to freeze.”
“Please,” he scoffs. “The only one freezing in here is you sweetheart.”
Before you can further protest, he shushes you so he can properly wrap the scarf around you. Once he is done, he pinches at your nose, “There you go.”
His cute antics couldn’t help but make you laugh softly, the tension in your body melting away. You adjust the scarf slightly, its warmth seeping into your skin. Both of you continued walking until you stopped by the meticulously decorated bridge, reclining on the edge to have a perfect view of the park as a whole. Welcoming the cold breeze, you scrunched up your nose in satisfaction as you enjoyed yourself. For a long time, you could have only hoped to feel like this.
It was a little tradition of yours to take a stroll at night and enjoy the merrily decorated park for the holidays every year. For years, you had watched different families walk around together, kids running around pointing at their favorite shapes, and happy couples holding hands as they went to share a kiss under the arch of lights in the bridge. From afar, you would only participate as an audience of their happy moment.
But this year it was different—you were not alone anymore.
When you asked Jason to go downtown to walk around, he seemed hesitant. But it took him a peck on the lips and a few please’s there and there, and he was agreeable to anything you wished.
“Enjoying yourself?”
“Very much,” you turned to him with a smile.
He was leaning on the railing, but unlike you, he didn’t bother with looking across the lake for the lights afar. No, his focus was on you, eyes locked in the blush of your cheeks and nose, on the way the breeze blew your hair back. He may not understand why you loved the obnoxious lights, or the walk in the particularly crowded park, but he loved seeing you content, happy.
With a kiss to your forehead, he took your gloved hand into his and guided you deeper into the lighted path.
𓍯𓂃 🎄✧.* notes ; this little blurb has actually been on my drafts since last year's holidays, and I refuse to keep it hostage any further, so if it feels a bit empty, it's because i just wanted to get a feeling out </3
orrrrrrr, is that spider fic ready to be released?? (the arachnophobia one)
<3
*boomshakalaka - clearing out my drafts.
peter's doing things he never saw himself doing.
he's slowly taking a girl's virginity and teaching her about the in's and out's of relationships. he's also been adorably named as a friend, recently upgraded to best friends after he went down on her for the first time.
that was a week ago and when he flashes forward, he's baking cookies with her and hiding the pain of a sore jaw because once he showed her the wonderful world of oral, she couldn't get enough of it.
'peter! flour!' you point at the bowl, he dumps the other half of the flour in before you roar the hand mixer back up. you take your time with it and once it's done to your satisfaction, you pass the bowl over to him. he's on chocolate chip duty.
'i can't believe you've never made cookies before. isn't this so fun?'
it's just simmered down cooking and it's not a hobby he'd pick up but when you're the one asking him to fold in chocolate chips or crack the eggs, it's not the worst time he's ever had.
'everything is fun with you around.' you give him a kiss on the cheek, he allows himself to smile when you turn your back for a baking sheet. you show him how to make appropriate sized dough balls and meticulously explain spacing and how important it is.
once they're in the oven, peter washes his hands and starts putting the dishes in the sink to soak until he's got enough energy to wash them. you hover behind him for a second and then move to the side of him, staring at his face.
right when peter's about to ask what you're looking at, you send him fumbling.
'i love you.'
it's been three months. barely. and there's nothing official to deserve a declaration of love. peter drops the bowl in his hands from a slightly raised position, it clatters against the ceramic.
your feelings aren't wrong. not even in the slightest. but peter thinks they might be misplaced. love? him? he doesn't deserve that, not from you.
you don't look like you're dropping a secret confession, like it's been swirling around in your head until it just blurted out on it's own. you said it soft and sweet, as if you've been saying it since the day you met him.
peter's heart is hammering in his chest, he cuts the tap and turns to face you. 'cherry, that's...' he doesn't want to say wrong, he doesn't want to say you're confused, he doesn't want to push down any feelings of yours or minimize them. 'that's a really big thing to say.'
your bottom lip goes crooked from nibbling on the corner. you think about it for half a second before shaking your head. 'no, i don't think so. i tell lots of people i love them, you're just getting added to the list.'
but under the context of things... he doesn't deserve that. he doesn't deserve your love. that should come when he's man enough to admit he wants you to love him. he hasn't earned those three words and he doesn't want them to look cheap.
'yeah, but love is a really big feeling, right? i don't know if i've earned that yet.' you laugh, a bright giggle bounces against the wall he's building over his heart. not to shut you out but to protect you from the many faults of peter parker he's been trying to hide from you.
'you're my friend, peter.' you wrap your hand around his arm. 'you're one of my best friends and my number one guy best friend. i love my friends and i tell them that all the time, why would you be an exception?'
peter taps his fingers on the counter, he doesn't know how to say it in a nice way. 'because even if we call each other friends, we're not just doing friendly things and saying you love me blurs the lines a little bit.'
your face falls a little, peter takes a small step forward. when he's about to try and soften up, open up a little and explain his position on love and relationships, you let out another giggle. it explodes, you're laughing loud and letting it echo off the kitchen cabinets.
'no wonder you're so freaked out. peter, i'm not saying i'm in love with you, i'm just saying that i love you. i love your presence in my life, i love the things we do together, i love a lot of things about you but i'm not in love with you. loving someone and being in love are two totally different things. like, i've never had a boyfriend before but even i know that.'
peter's quiet, you try and make it make sense to him. you lightly hit his arm with the back of your hand when you think of a better example. 'like ethan! you love ethan. he's your best friend, right? you love the things that make him who he is, you love spending time with him, you love talking with him for hours on end about nothing, but you're not in love with him. get what i mean?'
but there's a difference in some of the things he does with ethan and some of the things he does with you. when he gently reminds you of that, you wave him off.
'doing sex stuff with someone doesn't mean you're dating them. friends with benefits is a real thing and i think we're best friends with benefits.'
peter gives you a certain type of look you haven't been able to decode yet. 'how many friends with benefits say they love each other?'
your eyebrows furrow, lips falling into an adorable pout. it's your 'i'm right and you're going to acknowledge it' face. 'i don't care what other people do. you're my best friend and i love my friends, i'd tell you i love you if we have sex all the time or if we never do. i'm not saying you have to say it, especially if it means something different for you, but i'm going to say it and you don't need to freak out every time i do.'
peter licks his lips, you take a step towards him, your socked toes push against his. 'if my meaning of i love you changes, you'll be the first one to know.' at last, after a small battle, you win. a tiny head nod from peter was all you needed, you swallow him in a hug, wrapping your arms around his neck.
you kiss his cheek when you pull back, 'love you.' peter doesn't say it back but you don't mind, you're sure you'll soften him up eventually. you take a glance at the oven timer and struggle to lift yourself on the counter, peter helps you, you keep his hold on your waist.
'we have seven minutes to make out.'
the lines you draw are blurry in peter's vision. he's somewhere between like and love, feeling something deeper he hasn't felt the need to put a name to yet.
'seven minutes, huh?'
you nod your head, peter allows you to tug him closer by his shirt and slips between your thighs, immediately grabbing your hips and digging his thumbs under your hoodie to rest against your skin.
your kisses start slow before bleeding into something stronger, but still sweet. it's airy and light, there's a very faint chocolate taste, peter would tease you about stealing a couple chocolate chips when he wasn't looking but he doesn't want to. he doesn't want to stop this for anything.
something settles in his chest and refuses to leave, like a cat curled up in a sunspot. and for just a second, peter lets go and allows himself to forget. forget about his jaw hurting, forget about the rules he had in place, forget about your i love you meaning something different.
you pull away for a break, peter follows you and brushes his nose against yours. for someone claiming they're not falling in love, you're making it harder and harder for peter to keep that mindset because one of these days, he's going to say it back. he's going to tell you he loves you too and you'll think he's being friendly but he's already unable to picture a future without you in it.
instead of dwelling on it, peter checks the timer. four minutes. he whispers under his breath. 'is this the part where you say you love me again?' you lean into him, your lips bump against his as you answer. 'kisses first.'
peter doesn't mind earning your love. not now, not ever. and that might be the entire point.
Omg! I just got an idea! So in uni obviously Peter and trouble are very enemies to lovers core…and in this fic Peter is still spiderman….so I was thinking what if Peter had to save trouble as spiderman (this being before she knew it was him, and obviously before they like each other) and she wants to thank him with a kiss (you know the good old iconic spiderman kiss) 😏
Eh? Ehhhh? What do you think? I feel like he’d be annoyed but he wouldn’t want to blow his cover? But at the same time she didn’t think he’d actually agree but here she is rolling his mask up just below the eyes to give him a smooch lol!
this has some potential and i do think it depends on how close/new trouble is to meeting peter/hooking up with him.... lets say we're still in the beginning and at this point peter knows she likes spider-man but i'm picturing they've only been "hanging out" for a month or so.
---
could spider-man intervene?
yes.
should spider-man intervene?
... jury's out.
peter's got a close eye on what's happening below him, ready to jump in if he's actually needed but silently hoping it'll all work out without him. he was doing a regular patrol around the city when he saw a very familiar face on the sidewalk. hes up high, high enough you didn't notice him or think to scan rooftops for a sighting.
you're bustling along when some guy intentionally, at least to peter, plowed his shoulder against yours. peter gave a sympathetic hiss as you rubbed the spot, you shook your head and kept going but at the very last moment, you decided to confront the guy.
'hey!'
spider-man is shaking his head, he's sending you telepathic thoughts, he's telling you to leave it alone. either you don't hear him or you don't care, you yank on the guy's sleeve, he whips around and steps up on you.
peter can feel your footing go a little loose, you weren't expecting him to face you even angrier- you were expecting a sheepish 'sorry ma'am...' but you still demand a little respect.
'you slammed into me and that hurt! you should say sorry right now!'
'i'm not saying sorry for shit, bitch.'
peter's head pulls back, maybe you shouldn't go confronting strangers but you did nothing to deserve a slur thrown your way. spider-man glances down at his left hand, instinctively curled into a fist. he releases it, takes a breath and takes one step closer to make sure you're okay.
you could handle an asshole in the street, people do it everyday, multiple times a day. that's not spider-man help level.
'oh, does that make you feel like a big strong man?' peter has to stop the words in his throat, he wants to scream down at you to 'let it the fuck go' but you double down.
'slamming into girls in the street and calling them bitches when they demand a little respect?'
peter can't see the guy's face but he assumes it's bad when you take a step back with a fallen face. 'you know what makes me feel like a man?' his hand wraps around your elbow, 'hurting little girls like you.'
spider-man bulks up, watches as you try to yank yourself free. 'alright, alright, i'm sorry. i shouldn't have-' you're panicking, you're admitting fault when there was nothing to be sorry for.
'no no no, you wanted to play. i love playing with girls like you. the strong ones, the ones that think they can challenge me.'
you stop fighting against him, spider-man's feet are on the ledge. all his focus is on you, the rest of the city is a blur around him. the building across the street could collapse into rubble and he wouldn't hear a thing.
your face pinches, a defeated look crosses your face. 'you won, okay? you're hurting me.' it's all peter needed to hear. with one leap, he's off the building.
you're trying to free yourself when you see the guy's body pulled a couple feet back out of your peripheral. when you look up, the city's hero in red and blue has one hand on the guy's shoulder and he's completely subdued.
'name calling is rude, but not a crime. touching and hurting is where i draw the line. apologize to the girl.'
you're silent, staring at spider-man with heart eyes. even with the mask, he feels like he's looking at you a little too long, he shakes the guy in his hold.
'i didn't do shit. she was the one that-'
spider-man kicks the back of his knee, he's forced into an awkward crouch. 'that's for lying to me. apologize to the lady or else you're kissing the concrete and i just watched that shop owner spray down dog poop from this very spot.'
the concrete is still a little wet. the guy doesn't know if it's true or not, (it's not) but it's enough to admit defeat. 'alright, alright, alright! i'm sorry! i shouldn't have grabbed you like that. i got canned from my job but that's no excuse!'
he doesn't sound all that sorry and it's more than a little rushed but you don't care anymore. your shoulder doesn't sting and you forget the part where he called you a bitch. spider-man nods at you, as if he's asking if that's good enough for you, all you can do is blink at him.
peter accepts it for you. he helps the guy up, barely, and shoves him in the opposite direction. you're still quiet, pure shock and awe at who's in front of you.
spider-man looks at his gloves and pats down his front. 'oh good, i didn't forget the suit this time.' you laugh, a little too loud. it's the same type of laugh a teen would give to a guy she had a way too big crush on that wanted a little attention.
peter takes a step back. 'alright, you be safe, okay? i'm going to-'
'can i give you a hug?'
you won't let him leave. he's torn between giving you the spider-man dream you've always had and getting the hell out of there because even if there's not even a sliver of skin poking out, the paranoia of you possibly connecting the dots makes him want to keep you as far away as possible.
but... spider-man is your hero. to you, he's doing it all to keep you safe. and peter could never deal with seeing your defeated look when you tell him you met your hero and all he did was brush you off.
'sure.'
you react like he just told you, you won a billion dollars. 'really? you don't mind?' most people want to hug him when he saves their life, or if they're a kid. but you're neither and spider-man would typically say he's too busy, however, for you... 'i can make an exception for you.'
you slam into him, wrap your arms around his ribcage and squeeze. it's a death trap and if peter didn't know you outside the suit, he'd be a little scared he was about to end up in a basement. 'this is the best day of my life. i know you're like, literally a hero and like, literally the only hero but you're my hero, you know? like, i look up to you. cause, you're kind of the best person alive. you're selfless and i want to be more like you and i really am your biggest fan ever.'
you're rambling and you might be embarrassing yourself but you don't care. spider-man politely rubs your back. 'i can tell.' you tug him even closer, he doesn't mind.
peter might be a little biased but now that he's had your hugs as himself and as spider-man... he thinks the ones you give him, the real him, are much better. they're warmer, softer, closer somehow.
'gosh, i just want to kiss you!'
spider-man freezes a little, he's not sure where this aligns with his morals. it should be absolutely not, spider-man would never take advantage of a citizen like that, but since it's you... and peter knows you... and he knows this might be the only time he could make a real life dream come true... and he's already made an exception with the random hug...
'sure?'
you take a step back, wide eyes locked in on him. there's no chance you can see through his lenses but it feels like you're staring not just at him but at his soul.
'really? you'd let me kiss you?'
'i'd do anything for my biggest fan?' he backed himself in this corner, he regrets saying yes. he should've never done this, it's going to open the fattest, wormiest can of worms in existence and all he'd have to blame for it is himself and his big, fat mouth.
'this might be the stupidest thing i've ever done, and i might totally regret this immediately but... no thank you.'
record scratch. was spider-man getting rejected? by his biggest fan?
'i've been kind of seeing this guy and i don't know where it's going, if it's even going anywhere but... i don't know, i kind of like him? maybe? all i know is, if i kissed you, it would be over before it even started with this guy and i'm not sure if i want to give that up yet.'
you chose him. you chose peter. when you had the option for going with your massive, unobtainable crush, you chose peter. you've ignited him in ways he didn't know existed, not until you just showed them they were dormant in his system.
the biggest fear peter didn't know he had, you just soothed. spider-man was the good guy, everyone wants him. but peter, peter comes with challenges and mood swings and a whole lot of push back... and you chose him. you chose that.
it might be one month and peter's trying to navigate everything that comes with maybe, possibly, at some point having a girlfriend but if you're choosing him and all that comes with it, he's choosing you too.
if peter's going to love someone, it's going to be you because you just told spider-man you're not afraid to love peter.
'i mean, i can't compete against that, can i?'
you shake your head. 'nah, he's pretty great too. he just doesn't know i figured that out yet.' but now he does.
'how about a kiss on the cheek? i doubt he'd get mad over that.'
you purse your lips, contemplate it and softly agree. 'you know what? i bet peter would be fine with that.' you step forward, press your lips against the apple of his cheek. you don't feel anything but his mask but just the idea of it, warms you.
'i should let you get back to hero stuff i guess... and i think i'm going to call him and tell him everything. he's going to be so excited for me.'
spider-man nods once, he tells you to be safe and vigilant and thanks you for being a fan. two minutes later on another rooftop, peter's phone vibrates with a call from you.
'hello?'
'peter! you are never going to believe who i just met!'
'wh-'
'spider-man!'
'no way! please tell me you kissed the guy or something.'
'ha! would you believe me if i said i asked? and he said yes! i gave him a big smackaroo on his cheek.'
peter play gasps, 'no tongue action?'
'none. i doubt he could kiss half as good as you.'
Would Cherry and/or Trouble (I feel like it's more trouble) ask Peter to wear his mask or try out his webshooters after finding out hes spiderman? I feel like they would
cherry would want nothing to do with his "stinky suit"
trouble on the other hand...
'please, please, please, please.' hands clasped and all, peter still shakes his head no. 'not happening, give it up.' you follow him around his room, saying anything you can to turn his adamant no into a hesitant yes.
'but you love me!'
'i love you very much.' your grin widens, 'but you're not wearing my suit.' you fall back into a pout. 'so you hate me?' peter sighs, 'that's the opposite of what i just said.'
'if you actually loved me, you'd make me happy.' peter spins around, you see something behind his eyes, you think you're about to get what you want. peter cups your face and presses a kiss to your hairline, 'i want to do nothing but make you happy.'
you always get what you want. it's the privilege of being his girlfriend and having him wrapped around your finger, anything you want- 'but no, you can't wear the suit.' you stomp your foot like an aggressive toddler and push peter away from you before turning your back on him and huffing.
'hey, don't be mean and pouty because i'm saying no.'
'what's the point of dating spider-man when he doesn't let me do anything?' peter tries to grab you from behind, 'you're dating me, not spider-man.' you shake him off. 'god forbid i want both sometimes! whatever, it's fine, i don't care about your dumb alter ego or doing anything fun.'
'you have plenty of fun with spider-man.' no matter what peter does, you're going to spin it until you get what you want. you turn around to shoot daggers at him. 'oh, when he fucks me? yeah, nice to know spider-man only sees me as a sexual object.'
'okay, no, that is not-' he lets out a heavy sigh, he's not winning. 'you're not going to let this go, are you?' you shake your head, peter gestures towards his closet. 'go ahead.' he sounds defeated, you're already pulling open the doors when you ask if he's sure.
'you were going to make me feel guilty until i said yes, so yeah, go ahead and play dress up.' you squeal and go digging for the hidden suit, wriggling out of your clothes and pulling spandex up your thighs.
'this is so crazy, oh my god. spider-man wears this suit to kill people and-'
'i don't kill people.'
'-now i'm wearing it. he's saved the city a million times, in this suit, and now it's on me. my skin is touching where his skin touched, i'm getting dizzy.' peter refrains from rolling his eyes, 'you're so dramatic.'
'and you're jealous of yourself, weirdo.' you spin around to give peter the grand reveal, he busts out a laugh and covers his mouth and turns his head to the side so he doesn't laugh in your face. it's horribly baggy, the dips of your shoulders on full display and the gloves looks like they’re sliding off.
you instantly frown, 'is it that bad?' peter looks at you, breaks into a smile, turns his head to regain composure and looks back at you with a straight face. 'no, not at all. it's just not your size.'
'ugh, get me the mask so i can have the full vision before i take it off.' peter's got a sudden serious look, 'no. i'm fine with the suit but you can't wear the mask.'
'why not?'
'it's gross, trouble. i sweat in it, my hot breath is all over it, no matter how much i clean it, it's gross.' you blink at him, 'you sweat all over me all the time and i have kissed you with morning breath many times.' peter crosses his arms over his chest, your naked shoulder shrugs at him.
'it's either the mask or the webshooters, your choice.'
peter thinks about it for half a second, webshooters are a terrible idea. you'd have no control over them, leave a mess in every corner in his room and break at least three things. peter doesn't say anything, he just reaches around you for his mask on the top shelf, you give him a happy dance and he has to force himself not to smile.
you tug it over your head, your hands pat over the eyes of it. 'are there covers on this thing?' peter straightens it for you, 'no.' you hold your arms out, batting around air until you connect with peter's frame. 'i can't see anything out of this, how the hell do you swing around the city with this thing on?'
'believe it or not, i see better with it on.' peter refuses to admit it, but you're utterly adorable. he breaks his own rules and takes out his phone to snap a picture of you, it's an instant favorite. 'how do you breathe? i feel like i'm being suffocated.'
'i also feel like that. it's better than everyone knowing who i am.' you pull at the mask, it feels suctioncupped to your head, the second you think about panicking, peter takes it off for you. 'i don't like your mask.' you start scratching your arms, 'and your suit is a little itchy.'
peter's face drops, 'uh oh...' you freeze and stare at him, 'what?'
'i think you're allergic to spider-man...' you kiss your teeth and start rolling the suit down your torso. '... and the only cure is a dose of peter parker.'
you're still spider-man from the waist down when peter sends you flying to his bed, giggling and screaming his name.
hi j! if you did post the my baby origin story would you mind linking it pls? i have a faint memory you said you did but i can't find it lol
*cleaning out my drafts!
peter isn't great with crying girls. the last time one cried in front of him was the beginning of his sophomore year, he had hooked up with a new arrival and she came around the next day looking for more. peter told her he doesn't do repeats, she started crying, peter turned his back on her until she left- he swore off freshmen after that.
but now you're the one crying in his bedroom and all he wants to do is fix it. you showed up ten minutes ago and silently curled up on the end of his bed like a puppy, he asked if you were okay and it was the dam that broke you open.
peter's heart rate instantly skyrocketed; he didn't know what to do.
'no, no, no, we don't have to cry! it's okay, trouble, we don't have to cry, alright?' it made it worse. you tuck yourself into a ball as tight as you could get and let out quiet sobs into your knees. peter's panicking.
'that's okay! we can cry, we can totally cry if we need to because there's nothing wrong with crying.' your shoulders shake, peter feels like he's making everything worse. 'how can i help? do you want me to get you something? or someone? is ally here? i can get her and-'
you sob, peter backtracks. 'okay, okay! shh, it's okay.' peter doesn't like the way you sound or look, it's pitiful and it's making his own eyes sting. it might be the first time you've done it, but he really really doesn't like it when you cry. it's a type of upset he can't fix and it's making him feel itchy.
'trouble, you're hurting my heart. how can i help you right now?' you don't answer, peter's grasping at straws and can only think of one thing that always seems to make you feel better.
'do you want to give me a hug?' he feels bad for not offering it before, you're on your knees in seconds and reaching out to him like a toddler that took a too hard tumble. his arms are looped around your waist, tugging you into him as close as you could get. your fingers dig into his back, as if you're terrified he'd leave you.
you cry into his chest with stuttered breaths, peter's never felt the need to care for something so hard before. 'oh, my baby.' he rubs your back, 'you're okay, trouble. i'm right here.' it barely calms you down. 'what's got my baby so sad? hm?'
'i just,' you inhale shakily, peter's hands wash up and down your back. 'i just really miss home right now.' you're crying again, peter tries to squeeze you back together. 'that's okay, i miss home a lot too. but then when i go home and stay there for a while, i miss here too.' you nod your head, you know what he means.
'maybe once you calm down you can call your parents. i know it's not the same but sometimes just talking to them helps.' you loudly sniff and rub your face into peter's shirt to dry your cheeks. 'when i miss home i call may before i go to bed, hearing her say goodnight to me makes me think of her giving me a hug every night before bed before i moved and it makes me feel better.'
'your hugs make me feel better.' just because he knows it's working, he holds onto you a little longer. 'if you wanted a hug, you could've just asked me. you didn't have to scare me and cry.' you laugh under your breath, peter's heart soars. 'i didn't scare you.'
'you had me terrified. i thought spider-man died or something.' you pull away from his chest to gasp and stare at him in horror, 'don't you dare say that.' peter softly grins and gently wipes his thumbs under your eyes. 'that's how much you scared me.'
your eyes are a little red and your lips are puffy. he's not turned on but he might be a little bit of a freak for thinking about you like this, because he's never thought it about another person, or thought it was possible. 'you're a pretty crier. i know you're sad, but you look really cute right now.'
you blink up at him, you can feel how wet your eyelashes are. 'really? you think so?' he nods his head and cups your face, you know he's thinking about kissing you but you also know he's not going to. 'i knew you'd make me feel better.' you fall forward and attack him with another hug, peter doesn't mind one bit.
you did? 'you did?' peter didn't know he seemed to have the ability to make people feel better.
you nod your cheek against him. 'mhm.' you push him back again, an excited sparkle in your eye. 'you called me your baby.' peter shakes his head, 'no i didn't.' you poke his arm, 'uh huh. you said it twice.'
'i did no such thing.'
'yes you did. i heard it loud and clear, mr. i don't do pet names.' you've pointed out a million times trouble is a pet name but everytime you bring it up, he tells you it should be your actual name. 'panic attacks can cause auditory hallucinations. you might have experienced something like that.'
'don't be mean to me.' peter clicks his tongue, 'me?' he gives you a half-grin, he knows exactly what he's doing. 'i could never be mean to my baby.' your heart skips a beat, peter whips his head around, 'woah! who said that?'
you can't help but giggle, something about him saying it makes you giddy. 'you did!' peter shakes his head again, 'no...' he drags it out, you clasp your hands together. 'say it again.'
'it again.'
you tug at his shirt, 'please? pretty please with me on top?' peter heaves out a sigh and leans in, he brushes his lips against your cheek and whispers in your ear, 'my baby.' you squeeze his arm, he pulls away like he didn't just make you melt into a pile of goo. 'for the record, i didn't hear anything.'
'oh, i did. you whispered it right in my ear.'
'whispered what?'
'something about how i'm your baby.'
peter gives you a secretive look, he's telling you he'd never admit to it. but he said it and it counts, you just really hope it's not the last time he does. 'nah, i'd never say that. that doesn't sound like something i'd do.'
'except it is because you did.' peter tilts his head at you, 'you're trouble.' you smear a cocky grin on your face. 'and your baby.' peter slowly nods his head, 'you're right,' you sit up straighter, all traces of sadness are finally gone.
'my baby is trouble.' peter turns around again, his eyes racing across the room. 'seriously! who said that?!'
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