the coffee girl
peter parker/spider-man x fem!reader
summary: finding a new coffee shop turns out to be more successful than anticipated when Peter lays his eyes on you. now he's there every day, awkwardly trying to win your heart.
or you quickly find out that giving a chance to the cute customer ends up in damage to your heart, and constantly being stood up. you have to do something about it, right?
content warnings: SMUT! post nwh going into bnd but no spoilers; no y/n used; nicknames; porn with plot; meet cute; angst (reader is tired of peter's bullshit); fluff; smut at the end; oral (f!receiving); lots of dry humping; nipple play; piv sex with creampie; peter is down bad; lots of praise; first time with each other; kinda subby virgin!peter. think that's it.
words: 4,6k
a/n: i'm still writing for steve, but my obsession with peter came back so i had to do something. please understand my lovelies<3
Peter Parker really liked coffee. Consumed it in unhealthy amounts that were probably as bad for him as the remains of asbestos (allegedly) present in his new apartment.
But what he liked the most about it was you.
Because when he discovered that little coffee shop on the corner of his new street? He felt as though he had struck gold.
"What can I get for you?" you smiled at him politely from behind the register, and he was actually stunned, lost for words as his eyes took you in completely.
You were probably the most gorgeous person he'd ever seen.
Scratch that, not probably.
You definitely were.
Nevertheless, Peter managed to get his order out, and observed carefully as you brought it to life.
He couldn't say much more to you that day—you made him completely speechless, and he felt like a weirdo when your brows scrunched in confusion as he just stood there and looked at you, even after he got his coffee in hand.
So he left, muttering a quiet "thank you" and looking back at you one more time on his way out.
But it was bad. Real bad. He couldn't stop thinking about you, his mind repeatedly going back to that moment when he first saw you.
So he went to the coffee shop again.
And again.
And again and again and again, until you were familiar enough to say "hi" to each other, and until you asked "the usual?" every time he came in.
There was that day when he got bolder and asked what was your name. You smiled and said "I'll tell only if you tell me yours first". Peter took that as a good sign.
"So how come you're here so often?" you asked him about a month later, your hands preparing his coffee with unsurprising ease.
"Oh, I– I moved into an apartment on this street, and I just really like...coffee." he answered, his voice shaking only slightly as he watched you work.
"Wait, the storage one? The one with asbestos?" you questioned as you put his order on the counter, slowly sliding it across.
"How...how do you know that?"
"My friend lives in that building! She's been telling me about the guy who's brave enough to rent it."
His cheeks went pink (as they usually did around you), embarrassment creeping onto him at the thought of you being introduced to his living space like this.
"It's uhh...it's actually not that bad." he muttered, reaching for his steaming coffee.
What he didn't anticipate was you going for it too—your fingers resting on top of his, the touch adding another layer of warmth onto his skin.
"Peter, I'm not judging." you said softly, your gaze fixed on his. "You do what you gotta do."
Yeah, he definitely developed a crush on his coffee shop girl.
"Can I get your number?"
An unusual question to ask while paying for your coffee, but Peter asked it nonetheless.
"What?"
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't– I mean I just thought– Well, we've been talking for some time now. Not like, officially...we only talk when you're working and I'm ordering, but we still talk and...you know me a little better now, and I know you more too, so why not get to know each other even–"
"Are you blushing, Peter?"
He stopped, his rambling echoing through his brain and making him wince in disbelief.
Did he really just say all of that? Why does he have no chill?
"I'm...not." he answered quietly, his eyes jumping everywhere just to not look at you.
"You totally are." you said, a hint of amusement evident in your tone. "I think it's cute."
His gaze immediately found yours, the tips of his ears reddening too. "You...what?"
"I think it's cute when you get nervous around me." you shrugged, motioning to the register. "Oh, and you still haven't paid."
He shook his head, trying to function somewhat normally after hearing your words. He finally handed you the bill that he'd been withholding and waited patiently as you prepared his coffee.
He didn't say a word throughout this whole process, trying not to laugh (or cry) at himself for thinking that a girl like you would actually want to get to know him better.
"Here." you said after a while, handing him his cup.
"T-thank you." he answered, getting ready to leave this place and go lay in his bed like the pathetic loser he was.
"Give me your phone?" you muttered just as he was about to head to the door. "So I can give you my number, of course."
He scrambled for his pocket, taking out the device and passing it to you so quickly that you worried he might spill the freshly brewed coffee.
You swiftly typed your digits, taking a quick selfie and setting it as the contact photo.
"There." you handed him his phone back, smiling sweetly. "Oh, and call me now so I can have your number too. That way I can bother you when you change your mind and don't text me first."
"I don't think that's possible." he laughed, dialing and waiting until he heard your voicemail, just to be extra sure that his call went through.
"I'll be waiting for that text, Peter."
And he did as he promised.
From that day, you texted and called almost non-stop.
Just not when you worked, not when you met up with your friends, not when you had shit to do.
And not when Peter was busy being the town's hero—but you didn't have to know all the details.
Not until you and him started going on actual dates.
The first one? Amazing, if not for the fact that Peter suddenly "had to take care of something", leaving you alone at the restaurant for an hour. You stayed there only because food was good.
The second one? Cute, if he didn't say that he "just remembered something" and came back thirty minutes later, all disheveled and with a bloody nose, his hair sticking out in every possible direction.
The third one? It was incredible, almost went perfectly.
You came back to your apartment, his hands firm on your waist as he kissed you for the first time. He was nervous then, his mouth a little all over the place until he finally found your rhythm, matching it with eagerness.
"Peter..." you gasped against him, the unmistakable feeling of his growing excitement evident through the material of his jeans.
But then it had to fucking happen—the sound of a notification making him jump away from you, his phone immediately in his hand as he examined the screen.
"I'm so, so sorry. I have to go. I had a really nice time, I'll call you later, okay?"
And before you could even process all of this, he kissed your cheek and was gone, door slamming after him.
Safe to say, you were growing tired of all this. Yeah, you still texted and called, he still came in to your work and ordered coffee as usual, but you wanted more.
You wanted Peter Parker.
So, despite all of his weird behaviors, weeks later, you were still going out with him, giving him chances left and right.
It was at your place—about halfway through the movie—when Peter's hand found your thigh. You didn't think much of it, your eyes focused on the screen as his palm soothingly glided up and down your bare skin, the shorts you were wearing revealing more than usual.
But then he got bolder, his fingers skimming higher, a soft sigh leaving your lips as you absentmindedly parted your thighs more for him.
"Sweetheart?" he muttered, his voice quiet and careful.
You hummed in response, head turning to the side to fully look at him. Peter was already looking at your mouth, his fingers twitching slightly as they rested on your skin.
Both of you leaned in at the same time, mouths crashing in a hot kiss. His hands moved to grab your waist and tugged until you sat on top of him, your thighs bracketing his own.
He licked into your mouth, whimpering when you moved your hips over his, testing the new position.
"Baby...please." he murmured, and you marveled at the way he pleaded. That side of Peter was new to you, and you urgently wanted to explore more of it.
You pushed your hips down on him faster, moves more purposeful now. You gained speed as he whined below you, his arousal more prominent with every passing second.
And then it stopped.
It stopped, because his phone started ringing, the annoying sound echoing through your living room.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" you exclaimed, looking at him with as much dissatisfaction as you could muster.
"I-I'm sorry, I really have to take this, it's...important." he muttered, taking your body off of him.
You sat on the couch in disbelief as he quickly reached for his phone, tapping the screen a few times.
"I gotta go." he said, sending you an apologetic look as he got up and headed for the door. "Promise I'll make it up to you."
You scoffed, not even bothering to look at him anymore, your eyes clouding with unwanted tears.
"Yeah, I'm sure you will."
There was a beat of silence, and you thought that maybe he changed his mind, decided that he'd stay and explain what was going on.
And then you heard the door slam.
You were done. You were definitely done with Peter Parker.
That's what you said to yourself as you tried not to cry on your stupid couch, your head trying to come up with any logical reason as to why he was treating you like this—holding you so close just to ruin it the next minute.
But then you had an idea. A stupid one, honestly kind of illegal too, but you just had to try. You had nothing to lose at this point, certainly not Peter's trust.
You got up, putting on your shoes and a hoodie (that was totally not his), to try and prepare yourself for the chilly air outside.
You walked for fifteen minutes until you saw it—the logo of your coffee shop, the one that Peter visited for months now.
But that's not really where you planned to go, wasn't it?
You walked past it, stopping only when you reached that building.
His building.
It's not like you haven't asked him why you've never met at his place—he just always had the same answer "I don't want you inhaling possible remains of asbestos."
"And you can?" you usually fired back.
"I'm built differently than you. Trust me."
So you didn't argue after that, didn't really feel the need to. You trusted that he had his reasons. You trusted him.
Not anymore though. No tonight.
Getting into the building was easy, thanks to your friend living there. Taking the elevator also didn't come with any trouble.
And finding Peter's apartment? Definitely easy, considering all the stories about this place.
You didn't know what you were expecting, but definitely not for the door to open when you actually tried the handle.
"You don't even lock your fucking door?" you muttered to yourself, slowly stepping into his place.
It felt...weird. Like coming into the secret CIA base or some shit.
Most of the space was taken up by a big desk with various screens, a computer, strange looking devices that you wouldn't dare to touch.
Those screens illuminated his space, and you found yourself drawn to the blue light coming out of them.
The floorboards shifted under your shoes as you stepped slowly, inching closer to the desk. Your eyes skimmed over some scattered notes, making out something that looked like a...suit.
One that New York knew very well.
One that you knew very well, considering the few times where Spider-Man had to save you—some unlucky circumstances you've found yourself in.
And then your gaze turned to one of his screens, a to-do list written in a plain notebook app.
1. fix that hole in the suit, right side arm✔️
2. buy flowers for May✔️
3. make a reservation for the surprise date
4. check your web shooters✔️
5. update the crime alert map, it's been bugging lately
Your eyes skimmed through those letters maybe two, three times before you took a deep breath, backing away from the screen.
Yeah, you had your suspicions, of course you did, but seeing it all in reality like this?
What the fuck.
What the actual fuck.
"You know we can handle bank robberies, right?"
The familiar voice made Peter smile, turning around as DeWolff approached him.
"Can you?" he answered, amusement evident in his tone. "I got here quicker, so...you're welcome."
She sighed, crossing her arms on her chest, her gaze surprisingly stern. "I'm serious. You're taking work from people who are perfectly capable of doing their jobs themselves."
Peter went silent, slightly taken aback by her words. He didn't expect to hear that after turning in armed robbers.
"I'm not saying that because I'm mad or something." she continued, her hand falling to his shoulder in a comforting manner. "I'm saying that because I'm worried, kid. You deserve to rest too, you know? It's the fourth time we're meeting this week.”
"What exactly are you trying to say?" he asked, closing his eyes as tiredness washed over him.
"I'm saying that you need to take a breath. Not only as Spider-Man, but as the guy behind the mask. Allow him to just...be."
Those words did something to him—they settled deep into his chest and rested there as he swung though the city, his mind clouded with images of you. Only you.
DeWolff was right, he had to take a step back. The way your date ended tonight...it really showed him that you were at your limit, and he couldn't blame anyone but himself.
He needed to apologize, needed to win your trust back. You were the only person left by his side, and he couldn't afford to lose you right now, couldn't do this without you.
All the times he disappeared, left you alone without any explanation, and you still stayed...still had faith.
You were the one for him—he was too deep now.
He arrived at his window, out of breath and stumbling into his apartment as he did many times before, when his eyes fell on you.
There you were, sitting on his bed, his spare mask laying in your trembling hands as your shoulders shook slightly.
"Baby, I can explain–" he started, slowly getting closer.
"What's there to explain? I think all of this..." you pointed at his desk, full of undeniable evidence. "...is enough for me."
Peter could feel his heartbeat speeding up, his throat getting dry at the sight of you. Yes, he wanted you to know, but not like this...not after leaving you like he did tonight, with tension and unspoken anger so high between you.
"I wanted to tell you, I just didn't know how..." his voice was quiet and weak, tears welling up in his eyes. "A-and I needed to...to keep you safe. If something happened to you because of me...I wouldn't be able to–"
"Come here." you interrupted him, your voice a contrast to his.
"What?"
"Just fucking come here, Peter."
He was before you in seconds, not taking any chances at pissing you off even more now. You finally looked up at him, your eyes tired and filled with tears, matching his own.
"Take that off, will you?" you whispered, pointing at his mask. "I want to see you while I tell you this."
"T-tell me what?" he asked with worry, but did as you wanted.
You stood up, your hand falling to his hair as he leaned into the touch. He closed his eyes, savoring the moment of you being so close, so careful with him.
"I just don't understand why you didn't tell me sooner...at least then I wouldn't have felt like shit every time that you left me alone."
His eyes opened, taking your hand into his and pulling it to his lips, gracing it with a sweet kiss. "I wanted to protect you. Being close to Spider-Man is dangerous and–"
"And being Spider-Man isn't? What if something happened to you and I wouldn't know why you disappeared? What if you just left and never came back and–" your voice wavered. "I would've wanted to be there for you, all in. Would've wanted for you to not be alone with this tremendous responsibility. I can only imagine how much it takes...fuck, Peter, I saw how tired you were for days, barely even sleeping, barely eating, and I didn't know why."
"And what if something happened to you because of me? What if someone hurt you?" his eyes were glossy as he bit on his lip, trying not to cry.
"That would be because of me. Consequences of my conscious decision."
"Well, it was a risk–"
"Seems like being close to Peter Parker is a risk too."
His brows furrowed, confusion creeping onto his face. "What do you mean?"
"It's dangerous for my heart, apparently." you answered, freeing your hand and touching his cheek instead, your fingers gently moving over his warm skin. "Because I didn't know that getting close to you would make me so...sad."
His shoulders shook as the first wave of tears finally crashed over him, his arms closing around your waist, seeking comfort.
"Don't, no– don't say that, please." his voice cracked as he looked into your eyes. "I don't want to be the cause of...o-of your pain."
"But you are, Peter. So many times you've been so good to me, just to turn around and leave me wondering what the fuck did I do wrong. You could've just told me.”
"I'm sorry. I'm so, so fucking sorry." he was fully crying now, shaking under your touch. "I swear, I'll be the best version of myself now. I'll be there for you, no more secrets, no more uncertainty...Please, just please give me another chance. I...I need you so bad."
You were crying too, the closeness of his body making you more vulnerable than you wanted to be now. "Promise me."
"I promise, I promise, baby." he said, his voice softening. "I'd do anything for you."
"Then just be with me. Don't shut me out again, let me make my decision."
"I'm sorry, I'm so–"
You cut him off, your lips crashing over his in a heated kiss. He whimpered, the action taking him by surprise, but he quickly melted into you, his tongue finding yours and swirling it in perfect sync.
"You'd do anything?" you asked, your voice muffled against his mouth.
"Anything, baby."
"So get on your knees."
Your command made him actually moan, taking a step away from you and looking into your eyes as he lowered himself to the ground, his knees hitting the floor with a quiet thump.
"We've been waiting for so long...interrupted so many times." you said softly, admiring the way he looked.
"I'm sorry." he whispered, but you shook your head.
"Don't apologize. Just touch me, Peter."
His breath hitched, his hands shaking as he rested them on your hips, bringing you closer. He looked up at you, not breaking eye contact as his fingers found the waistband of your shorts.
"Are you sure?" he asked softly.
"So sure."
He moved slowly, getting rid of the material completely, mindlessly tossing it somewhere behind him as his gaze landed lower.
On her, completely bare before him.
For a while, he just stared. Taking in the sight of you, already wet and aching for him, your thighs squeezing together as his breath hit your skin.
"You're so beautiful." he murmured, leaving a trail of kisses on your inner thighs, inching closer and closer to where you needed him most.
"Peter...do something."
And he did—looking up at you again, his tongue finally made contact with your pussy, sliding into it with ease.
"Fuck..." you gasped as he moved through your folds, his fingers gripping the back of your thighs harder and harder with every passing second.
"You taste so good." he murmured into you, the vibrations of his voice going straight through your core. "I could do this all day."
"Higher, Peter." you gasped, moans falling from your lips freely.
"Like this?" he said, his tongue making contact with your clit, gently rubbing it in circles.
"Y-yeah, just like that."
He was so into it—you could tell by his own quiet moans, words of encouragement, blabbering about how sweet you are as his tongue went deeper into you, his nose catching on your clit and making you arch into him.
"You're so good to me..." he said, his eyes rolling back as you moaned out his name.
"I'm so close." you gasped, your hips starting to move against his face, chasing more friction.
"Please, please show me." he practically begged against you, bringing you even closer as his tongue worked eagerly between your thighs.
You came with a loud cry, his name on your lips as your back arched on him, legs trembling under the sheer force of your orgasm.
He didn't stop, not until you were pushing him away by his hair, and he whimpered at the lost contact.
"Come up, please." you said, smiling as he immediately stood up, his hands sneaking around your waist.
"Was that good? Tell me it was good."
You laughed softly, kissing him again, this time softer, marveling in the way he still trembled under your touch, tasting yourself on his tongue.
"It was really good, Peter." you admitted, gently pulling him towards the bed. "But I want more."
"O-okay." he smiled nervously, his hands finally moving to take off his suit. "It's just that–"
"Hm?" you answered absentmindedly, your eyes too focused on his body, admiring his muscles as your fingers run through the prominent abs.
He shuddered when they got lower, teasing the waistband of his boxers. He was already painfully hard, straining at the thin material.
You pulled at him, whispering that he should sit on the bed, and he obeyed immediately. He cradled your waist as you sat on him, your bare pussy making contact with his clothed cock.
"Baby–" he gasped, his hips bucking up into you automatically. "I just...you should know that I've never..."
It took you by surprise, but then your gaze softened, a part of you selfishly turned on at the fact that you'd be his first—the one he got to experience it with.
"Do you still want to? Because we don't have to go all the way if you're not comfortable."
"No!" he protested quickly, making you giggle at his eagerness. "I mean...no, I'd want nothing more than to do it with you."
"Then relax, okay?"
"Okay."
So you went into it without rushing—at first, it was just slow kissing as his hands roamed over your body. Then, it was more than that, both of you out of breath as your hips slowly moved over him, pulling soft moans from his lips.
And then Peter had enough.
"Please..." he whispered against you, tugging at the hem of your (his) hoodie.
You let him take it off and then helped with your shirt too—his gaze immediately falling onto your breasts. His hands sneaked around them, massaging your sensitive skin until you were pulling at his hair, bringing him closer to your chest.
"I got you, I got you baby." Peter muttered, understanding what you wanted him to do.
His lips closed around your hard nipple, swirling his tongue until you were moaning his name, working yourself on his cock in a steady tempo.
"I need to be inside you, please." he whimpered, his tongue moving to the other nipple now. "Please baby, I promise it'll be good."
"Take them off."
Still holding you in his lap, he managed to take his boxers off, his cock finally breaking free. You looked down and practically gasped, your mouth watering at the sight.
Peter was big. Bigger than anyone you've ever been with, and that worried you just slightly. He was already leaking, tip glistening in the soft light of his room.
"You can take it, I know you can." he whispered, deciphering what you were thinking about as you examined him.
His fingers gripped your hips, somehow pulling your whole body even closer. He kissed you with urgency, tongue moving around yours with familiarity.
You took the opportunity, taking his cock in your hand as he gasped into your mouth. He was trembling as you lined it up with your entrance, slowly sinking down onto his length.
It was barely the tip at first, giving both of you time to adjust to the new feeling.
"You okay?"
"Yes. Please, please move." he almost cried out, his body tensing under you.
"Hey, Peter...baby." you made him look at you, his eyes welling with tears. "Relax, yeah? Just let yourself feel. Don't think too much."
And he nodded, hips helplessly bucking up at your words. Both of you moaned, the stretch of him burning you in the most delicious way.
You sinked onto him fully, stilling your movements there just for a second before going up and then down again, the slide almost effortless for your soaked pussy.
You moved faster, head falling back under the pleasure, but Peter couldn't do that. He couldn't lose you from his sight, taking in all of it.
The way your breasts bounced every time you sank down on him, the way your mouth parted as you moaned out his name, the way your brows scrunched together in pleasure.
"You're so beautiful. So perfect." he murmured, unable to control his words. "I have to...have to fuck you myself now."
Before you could register what he meant, he turned you around, effortlessly landing between your legs, his hips instantly pushing into you again.
"Oh– Fuck, Peter, right here." you moaned out when his tip touched that particular spot, your back arching off of his mattress.
"Yeah? Like that?" he continued to push, concentrating on his movements as he studied your reactions—studied you.
You nodded repeatedly, lost for words as he held your thighs, wrapping them around him for better access.
"First time my ass." you laughed through the pleasure. "How are you so good at this?"
His eyes found yours as he lowered himself to your nipple, gently sucking and twisting it in his mouth.
"Am I?" he asked innocently, like you weren't practically melting under him.
"Y-yeah...fuck, don't stop...here, right here." you babbled on, pleasure overwhelming your whole body. "I'm so close."
"Please..." he whimpered, his hips snapping into you with so much more force now. His tempo was relentless, his cock twitching inside you now, own release threatening to spill.
"Fuck, you're so beautiful when you're moaning my name."
And those last words did it for you.
You came with a loud cry again, pulsing around him as your back arched into him even more than before, boobs squeezing into his chest.
"So good, you're so good to me." he said, fucking you through your orgasm. "Please, I'm...where do you want me?"
"Inside, Peter. Do it inside."
And that was enough—his whole body shuddering, loud moans and whimpers coming out of his mouth. He was clinging onto you, clawing at your waist, thighs, everywhere he could reach. You held him through it, purposefully squeezing your walls to add to his bliss.
After he gave you everything, he carefully laid next to you, turning your body so he could still be inside you, his head nestling into your chest.
It was quiet for a while—both of you catching your breaths, steadying your erratic heartbeats. Peter found your hand, intertwining your fingers slowly, like he wasn't sure if you wanted this.
"Peter?" you whispered, his head slowly turning to look up at you.
His cheeks were flushed, stained with tears that fell earlier. He was looking at you with so much fondness, the feeling almost overwhelming you.
Almost.
"Was that good for you? Did I do everything right? O-or, I mean it's impossible for me to do that, but did you at least have...fun?"
You laughed at him, though it wasn't malicious or anything. You laughed because he was so precious, worrying about you "having fun" when he practically rearranged your organs just minutes ago.
"It was perfect. You were perfect."
He smiled softly, his lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss.
"So...does that mean you're officially Miss Spider-Man?"
"I can't believe you never asked me that." you smiled, playfully rolling your eyes. "Yes, Peter. I'll be your girlfriend."
He smiled too, attacking you with kisses everywhere, giggling to himself like crazy.
"We still need to talk about all of this, okay?" you murmured against his mouth.
"Oh– Totally, of course." he smiled sheepishly, his hand landing on your inner thigh. "But first...can we please do that again?"
And who were you to deny the brave hero?
interactions appreciated:)
