⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚SQUEAKY CLEAN [tasm!peter parker x reader]
pairings: tasm!peter parker x reader
⇢ ˗ˏˋ SUMMARY ୨୧ peter wants to be pampered and bathe by you after being dirtied up by some robbers
⇢ ˗ˏˋ WARNING ୨୧ fluff, wounds, peter falling lol, mud and dirt, lemme know if i missed any!
A/n: you know what was so funny? this was actually supposed to be a smut, but I low key don't feel like a whore today lol. Btw don't steal my shi, coz that will also make you shit.
The sound of hurried footsteps passed outside your apartment window, and although startled, you relaxed when you recognized the familiar person in a spandex suit coming closer. Peter always had a flair for dramatics and entrances, but tonight it seemed to be more chaotic than before. Moments later, the window creaked open, and he stumbled in, muttering something unintelligible under his breath.
"Peter!" You rushed to his direction.
His Spider-man mask was drawn up to his nose, exposing a sheepish grin underneath. However, that was not the most alarming part—his suit was torn by mud and faint scratches could be seen through some torn parts on the arms.
"Hey, babe," He spoke, trying to sound casual, "before you say anything, it's the puddle that did it."
Raising an eyebrow, you replied, "Oh? The puddle did it?"
"Well, robbers started it, but the puddle finished it, long story short story—I won. Kind of." He gestured at his muddy, disheveled state.
You sighed, crossing your arms. "Let me guess—you couldn't resist some unnecessary flips to show off and got humbled by gravity?"
"Most shockingly accurate," he said with a weak grin of admission. "But can we save the sass for later? I think that puddle has some kind of grudge against me. Ow." He gestured to a particularly nasty scrape on his arm.
Shaking your head slightly with fond exasperation, you took his hand and led him off to the bathroom. "Come on, bug boy. We need to clean you up before you start the next supervillain origin story with an infected wound."
Peter followed you like a chastised puppy
As you pushed Peter onwards the bathroom door, the mud and dirt clung to the Spider-Man suit and was slowly soaking into the blood oozing from his injury during a fight with robbers. You could see the fatigue in his eyes; all his responsibilities as Spider-Man were now heavy burdens on his shoulders. But even such a rugged appearance could not take away that magical spark in his gaze that seemed to ignite every time he looked your way.
After switching on the light in the bathroom and rummaging through the cabinet for a first aid kit, you told him, "Sit," motioning to the edge of the bathtub.
He plopped down obediently, resting his elbows on his knees. You knelt in front of him, carefully peeling back the torn fabric of his suit to inspect the damage.
You quickly grabbed the first aid kit, but before you could even get it open, Peter looked up at you with those hollow eyes and said, "I'm filthy. Mind if I take a shower?"
You nodded with rival emotions raging inside you — one was concern; the other was something you could not figure out entirely. "Well, go ahead. The first aid kit is here, so take a shower, and then we got time to tend to your wounds."
He then put his voice into some very vulnerable tone and asked, "Could you… bathe me? I'm feeling a bit weak."
You should have figured. You saw his wounds; it was nasty but not fatal, something you probably get when you fall of a bike.
You threw him a derisive look. "Peter Parker, if this is some kind of trick just to get me to pamper you—"
"Okay, no, I'm serious this time! Scout's honor," he interrupted, holding up his hand in mock solemnity.
You roll your eyes as you grabbed a towel and tossing it over your shoulder. "Fine. But no funny business Parker."
Helping Peter shower is actually a bit less embarrassing than you'd thought it would be, at least to begin with. You stand outside the tub, holding him at the detachable showerhead while you rinse off the muddy spots on his back, being careful not to touch any cuts or bruises.
"This is so degrading," he mutters, but with a tone that clearly says 'he'd rather be caught dead' than annoyed at the present moment.
"Degrading? You begged me to get in here and help you, buddy," you shot back, scrubbing at an especially stubborn piece of dirt on his shoulder.
He winces before laughing quietly. "Yeah, but it's kind of nice, you know? Being taken care of."
The pause lengthens and your heart grows soft. "You're so dramatic. Well, maybe if you didn't jump into danger every night, I wouldn't have to."
"Fair enough," he says, turning to face you. His eyes have softened now, teasing mood all gone. "Thanks for this. For everything."
You smile and reach up to brush away a strand of wet hair from his forehead. "Don't mention it. That being said, turn your face around; there's still mud on it."
He muttered, "You know, if I weren't in so much pain, this would be kinda romantic."
You laugh, shaking your head. "You're impossible, Peter Parker."
Peter is now cleaned, bandaged, and dressed up. Sprawled on the couch, looking much more like himself. He grabs your hand as you pass by and tugs you down beside him.
"You are amazing," he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
"And you are exhausting," you reply, but you cannot hide your smile.
"Perfect match," he quips, pulling you into his arms.
You roll your eyes but snuggle closer, because you would trade this chaos for nothing.
@gloomskulls 2024. DON'T COPY, TRANSLATE OR USE ANY OF MY WORKS HERE OR ANY OTHER WEBSITES. Photos don't belong to me
