summary: reader storms into peter's apartment, upset over her last tinder date being a complete tool and refusing to eat her out. peter gets a little... distracted.
wc: ~2.1k
cw: ! MDNI ! not full smut, but descriptions of peter being hard, talking about oral (fem!receiving), dry humping, hints of peter being an absoulte munch, swearing, peter getting so embarassed he makes half-jokes to himself about suicide, friends to lovers sexual tension babyyyyyyyyyy
masterlist and taglist!
he didn't mean it. honestly.
in fact, there's nothing peter wanted more in this moment than not to be painfully hard. but here he was, and he didn't know what the fuck to do.
you had let yourself into his apartment with your spare, angrily marching down his hallway already yelling, up in arms about your latest shitty tinder hook up. his bedroom door slammed open, causing him to jump from where he was working at his desk. he looked to you with wide eyes as you continued the rant you'd started upon entering the threshold of his apartment.
"i mean, seriously? i give you the best head of your life, and you return with saying how 'disgusting' going down on me would be? and then you have the audacity to get mad at me when i don't want to fuck you? what the fuck is wrong with the men of new york?!"
you threw yourself down on his bed, frustrated sighs wracking through your chest as you attempted to calm yourself down, hands rough in your hair. peter stared back with bewilderment, and unfortunately, upon the thought of eating you out, an insane hard-on.
it's not like you hadn't talked about sex in the past five years of knowing peter, the two of you told each other everything. peter had just never seen you so... vulgar about it. so frustrated. he knew he needed to come up with a response — hell, he should've a solid thirty seconds ago — but he was currently willing his blood to stay in the upper half of his body, failing miserably as he couldn't fight off images of you spread for him out of his mind.
"what do you think, pete?" your voice snapped him back to earth.
"w-what?"
you gave a shrug, staring down at your lap and thankfully not seeing peter adjust himself and bring a sweatshirt into his own lap.
"i dunno, maybe i'm being the crazy one here. is it so bad to want head in return?" you stared at him expectantly, like you hadn't just asked him the most insane question he'd ever heard.
he shook his head a little too quickly, mentally cringing at how awkward he was being. parker, pull your shit together!
"no," he responded honestly. "i don't think you're being crazy." i think he's crazy for not wanting to.
you gave another heavy sigh, this time your turn to shake your head. "this is the third guy in a row who was appalled i even dare to bring it up. isn't that fucking crazy?"
peter nodded as though he was in a trance, eyes glossy as he stared at you. his reply fell to a whisper, not trusting the pitch of his own voice right now. "fucking crazy."
he held your gaze for a while as you sat in a comfortable silence. maybe for you, peter, however, was looking for any possible exit strategy that could come his way. his mind was going a million miles per hour, rushing thoughts of having you under him keeping him twitching against his sweatpants. he shifted in his seat, a lapse of judgment on peter's end as the sweatshirt in his lap moved against his groin, a sharp exhale falling from his gaped lips as he did everything in his power to hold back a moan.
if you noticed, you didn't let him know, giving him a soft smile as you stood from his bed to walk closer, gaze now heavy on the physics notes sprawled on the desk. you leaned over his shoulder, a hand on the back of his chair to stabilize yourself as you peered down.
"i'm sorry for complaining about my trashy sex life, this looks a thousand times more important. jesus, what even is all this?"
you leaned down further, your chest now brushing against his shoulder blade as you skimmed the papers, breath hot against his ear. normally, your proximity was no issue for peter — you've been best friends for years, touch wasn't foreign. but with his current circumstances, your touch against him was sending his senses into overdrive, and he was going to combust.
"j-just... physics... i-i guess." he stuttered, not daring to move his head a millimeter as your cheek nearly grazed his own.
you gave a gentle chuckle, the sound earning a groan deep in peter's throat before he knew to stop it. "yeah, i could figure out that much, parker. what's up with you? you're being weird."
you pull back slightly to adjust, immediately turning around to sit on peter's knee. again, it was something you'd done hundreds of times before with no other thoughts or implications, but with the sinful chains around his thoughts right now, it only threw him off more. you went to grab the sweatshirt in his lap, hoping to shift onto him more comfortably. he immediately grabbed your hand to stop you.
"no! i-i mean, i'm fine. i'm not being weird." he let go of your hand, crossing his arms and giving you a shrug, his best attempt at coming off nonchalant. his best wasn't good enough.
"yeah right, peter. what's your prob-" while speaking, you had grabbed for the sweatshirt quicker this time, using the momentum to immediately swing your leg over both his thighs to sit in his lap properly. you sat down fully, cheeks instantly flushing pink, "oh."
there were many times in his life when peter thought about ending it all, but none as much as now. he was going to have to either move countries, or jump from the empire state without his web shooters. those were the only two options circling his head as his wide eyes met yours, a red tint taking over his entire upper body.
"i'm so sorry, h-holy shit," he breathed out, grabbing at your hips to lift you off of him so he could get out of here as quickly as possible. you resisted him, though, doing what you could to fight against him and stay firmly planted on his lap. that made him panic even more. because, of course. he wasn't going to have time to kill himself. you were going to kill him first.
"i-i tried to, i don't... i'm so sorry."
you put your hands on his chest, a genuine look of bewilderment splayed across your features. "is that... is this because of me? what i was talking about?"
not only were you going to kill him, you were going to torment him about it first. and he knew he deserved it.
"pete—"
"i'm so sorry, please let me go, i didn't, i—"
"pete, listen to me."
"this is so embarrassing, i really didn't mean to—"
"peter," you let out his name in a voice he hadn't heard before, something torn between a growl and a moan — all while dragging your hips up against him. he gave a shaky exhale at the pressure, the feeling of you rutting against his cock stopping his guilty rambling.
you found his gaze, his pupils blown and irises dark, a direct correlation to the twitching of his cock as you gave him another soft roll of your hips. his hands found your hips again, holding you firmly in place to stop the teasing movement. his brows knit together, geunine confusion plastered across his face.
"what... what are you doing?" he was breathless, chest heaving as he stared back at you. you hesitantly reached a hand to his hair, palm splaying out on his scalp as your thumb traced circles on his temple. even in his worst possible moments, you were there to calm him down. he had absolutely no idea why you weren't yelling at him, or what you were even still doing here, but he wasn't going to fight it. he melted into your touch, and his breathing hitched as you leaned in closer.
"have you always felt this way?" you whispered, breath against his cheeks sending goosebumps across his body.
"felt... what?" he tried to play dumb, despite the fact that you could also feel how excruciatingly hard he was against you. when he daydreamed about confessing he was in love with you, this was never a scenario in his head.
you let your hand graze slowly down the side of his face, fingers coming to trace his sculpted jawline. his breath didn't just hitch at this point, he was pretty sure his lungs stopped working entirely.
"why haven't you ever said anything?" it wasn't angry, it was a genuine question.
he let out a scoff, a hand leaving your hip to scratch the back of his neck, embarrassment covering his features for the hundredth time this evening. "yeah, well. this isn't exactly how you want to tell your best friend you love her."
your eyes widened, and peter's followed, realization of his words hitting him.
"you love me?"
"holy shit, that's, i didn't, oh my god that's—"
peter's panic was cut off and replaced with awe as he felt your lips crash against his, a feeling he'd been dreaming of since the day he'd met you back in high school. he immediately reciprocated, tilting his head to deepen the kiss and letting a long overdue moan escape from his lips. you smiled against it, both hands interlocking with those brown curls you'd been dying to run your hands through, just like this.
peter nipped at your bottom lip, earning a sharp gasp from you that allowed his tongue much-needed entry into your mouth. the kiss was nothing short of hungry, years of pent-up feelings being released hot and noisily as peter bruised his lips against yours.
he pulled back sharply, out of breath and looking at you as though you weren't real. "wait, i dont... you...?"
you laughed at the lack of his question, though instantly understanding him. you gave a soft nod, a blush creeping over your cheeks as you brought your hands to cup his face. while the kiss was downright sinful, the way you looked at him filled him with nothing but reverence.
"every shitty tinder date happened after i chickened out of telling you how i felt. i just couldn't stand to lose you, peter." you added sadly.
he gave you a knowing look, nodding in agreement. "i know what you mean," he squeezed your hips, a contagious smirk controlling his lips. "wait, you've been going on shitty tinder dates since we moved out for college three years ago."
you returned the smirk, fingers trailing down to ghost the tendons in his neck. "i know."
peter pulled you in again, no longer embarrassed at the desperate noises escaping his throat as he attacked your lips, this kiss somehow hungrier than the last. you grinded down against him again, a raspy "fuck" leaving his swollen lips as he held a firm grip on your hips to keep you moving.
you chuckled at his desperation.
"you're telling me i could've been doing this the whole time instead of shitty jocks thinking its gross to make a woman feel good?" you sighed out as he trailed down your neck, teeth nipping and bruising your soft flesh as he continued to move against your hips, leaving you to soak up the feeling out how hard he was underneath you.
peter groaned in frustration, standing quickly with you still wrapped around his hips. he held you with one arm as though you weighed nothing, lips still attached to the pulse point in your neck. he used the other to catch himself as he threw you down onto his bed. you gasped, your back hitting the soft mattress as you took in peter's frame over you, hands on either side of your head.
he pulled back from his artwork on your neck, his jaw clenched. "i can't believe anyone could ever tell you such nonsense,"
he leaned down again to peck at your lips, hands making their way down to explore your sides. "i can't tell you what an honor it is to even think about how good you taste," he growled in your ear.
you gave a gasp, his words alone enough to have your cunt aching, as if you hadn't been since the second you sat down on his lap. "you... you think about that?"
he let out a chuckle as he sat back, his hands teasingly making their way to the button of your jeans. he ran his fingers under your waistline as his other hand tugged at your zipper, the feeling of your muscles tensing under his touch driving him absolutely crazy.
"more times than you could torture out of me," he pulled your jeans down, nearly finishing in his sweats at the sight of the delicate lace underwear against your burning skin.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ SUMMARY ୨୧ For Peter Parker, the deepest secret is not being Spider-Man. It's that he likes you, no he loves you, wants you in any imaginable way possible. After years of quietly admiring you from a distance, everything changes after a biology project that partners you two together. Peter sees a glimpse of chance to get nearer to you, but the line of affection and obsession begins to blur
⇢ ˗ˏˋ WARNING ୨୧ obessive peter, creep peter, stalking, masturbation, panty sniffing, dirty thoughts, breaking in, just peter being hopelessly in love. If any of this finds you uncomfortable, please click out do yourself (and me also) a favor. lemme know if I missed any! MINORS DO NOT READ
If you don't want to see my dark stories in the future please block the tag #madi: dark content
A/n: my first ever fic posted on Tumblr, yippee! This is also my first ever smut so it probs be equivalent to horse poo but anyways, this also takes place in tasm 2. don't steal any of the shit I've written or else i'm gonna turn you into Vicky from Terrifier/srs
Peter didn't understand what was so special about you, you were just a crush. Or that's what he convinced himself. Every single place you were in, Peter would carefully trail behind you, like there was a magnet strapped onto you, and Peter was the metal, he would always find himself drawing next to you. Peter Parker was no stranger to keeping secrets. It was, after all, the epitome of his double life. A mask, a costume, a name that wasn't his at all. There was one secret, however, that even the Spider-Man's mask couldn't cover—his growing infatuation towards you.
It started out really simple. You decided to give back the nerdy boy's pencil in sophomore year and defended him from Flash Thompson in his junior year, it was all simple really, something a person with decency and was taught with proper manners would do. But Peter took it as more than that.
Candid photos here and there, purposefully falling of his skateboard so you would help him, cryptic notes in your locker, sometimes a random flower if Peter was lucky to find any.
Limerence, as some might say
The first people who would ever notice Peter's strange behavior where the people who raised him. Uncle Ben would notice this girl in the screen of his nephew's computer, so did Aunt May when she saw many polaroid photos of the same face underneath Peter's bed. Peter shrugged it off, saying the same exact words to the both of them.
'she's just a crush'
Peter Parker was very good at being hidden in the open. Sure, he didn't want to be invisible, but it is what it is. One of the self-working "losers" with horrible punchlines and pretty much the face screaming "nerd". Well, it didn't bother Peter much. He had many other more important things to think about. You
It's been years now. It was already the last year of senior year, graduation was already nearing, still, he hasn't mustered up the courage to do speak to you, afraid that you won't reciprocate the same feelings he has. His been watching you from a distance, stealing glances in class and making mental notes on all the little things you did, like doodling on the corners of your notebooks or, how you tucked your hair behind your ear when you were concentrating. He knew that it was weird, creepy even, but Peter couldn't stop himself.
So, when Mr. Warren announced a paired project for biology, Peter's internal monologue kicked into overdrive.
"Pair work begins today," Mr. Warren said, his smile a gruff overture that still Peter thought unnecessary. "Choose your partners wisely, just choose somebody you will along with. You can really screw up over this project if you don't!"
The room broke out into a low buzz as students shuffled their chairs and moved toward their friends. Peter didn't move. He never did. Choosing a partner was like finding a needle in a haystack type of task for him
Alright, Pete, it is not such a big deal. You are not going to end up with her or anything. Just relax, find someone cool, and—
"Peter!"
Your voice broke through his thoughts, and he looked up to see you in front of his desk, clutching a notebook to your chest
"By any chance do you have a partner? My friends kind of made their own pairs" you asked, your lips curving into an easy smile.
Peter blinked. His brain short-circuited.
"N-nope. I'm totally solo. Flying solo. A lone wolf. A…"
"Awesome! Then let's team up."
Peter turned to you, his mind racing, he blinked, trying to absorb this. You were choosing him? He nodded frantically; his heart was hammering at a top speed that he was convinced you could hear it
You smiled at him, you fucking smiled at him
For the rest of the class Mr. Warren instructed everyone to plan for the project for the rest of the class. You kept bouncing ideas back and forth, and Peter felt a strange, thrilling sensation of in his heart. You were funny, clever, and surprisingly very easy to communicate with. Every time you laughed at one of his jokes, he felt like he was soaring.
When the bell rang, you packed your things and turned to him. "We should work on this at my place. Tomorrow after school?"
Peter nearly dropped his notebook. "Uh, yeah. Totally. I mean, yes. That works. Perfect. So super normal."
You laughed again. "Cool. Here's my address."
And with that, you scribbled it on a scrap of paper and handed it to him before walking away, leaving Peter frozen in his seat.
That night, Peter was sitting in his room staring at the address. To most people, that was just a little detail, probably not even worth a second thought. But to Peter, it was an invitation, or perhaps a key, even just for a second to get into your life. To know every little thing about you
Unfortunately, though, that's not enough.
He felt his hands shaking as he opened the drawer in his desk to reveal a small trove of hidden treasures; poorly taken pictures of you from a distance, bits of paper that you had thrown away during math class, and a small stash of hair strands that he meticulously collected from your hair comb when you weren't looking
This was love, wasn't it? The desperate consuming desire to be around her, to know everything about you.
And tomorrow, he shall get his chance.
You invited him, but Peter just knew it was really more than what you would ever willingly give.
His love was a web, and you were stepping into it, one delicate thread at a time.
Peter stood outside your house with a crumpled piece of paper clutched in his rather sweaty hand. The address on it was correct, but doubt clouded him. What if she had forgotten about this meeting? What if this was simply a joke? No, she would never do that, he tried to convince himself
Peter Parker was standing at your porch. Each thump of his heart sounded like one of the drums in the music club. He raised his hand to knock, hesitating for a moment. Maybe it was a terrible idea to come here after all; he could fake being sick, sending her an apology while rescheduling. Just then, the door swung open before he even had the chance to run.
"Hey, you found my house, I actually thought you would get lost cause I wrote the wrong color of the rooftop on the note" you said while stepping aside to let him enter.
"I was actually hesitant to knock, because it didn't look like the description" He quietly said. You actually got everything right, I was just being a huge pussy so I didn't come immediately, he thought to himself.
"Come in. I have started working on the diagram."
Peter plasted a grin and forced his legs down inside. "Well, look at you. Overachieving already. I guess I'll just sit back and let you do all the hard work."
You rolled your eyes and laughed, your voice making him feel that the world wasn't so bad after all. "Nice try, Parker. Grab a marker. You're on label duty."
"Come on, we can work in the dining area," you said, leading him across the house.
The dining table was already loaded with supplies, with textbooks scattered everywhere, colored pencils, sheets of poster paper, you name it. You positioned herself and gestured to him to join you.
You fell into a rhythm, your hand sketching the parts of the circulatory system while Peter scrawled out the labels in his neatest handwriting. He cracked jokes every few minutes, drawing out your laughter like a lifeline. It would be so easy to lose himself in the moment, pretend that you both were just two friends hanging out and not a guy hopelessly infatuated with someone who didn't even know half the truth about him.
Both of you had a relatively smooth first hour of working, few questions were asked here and there on the project. Peter kept his answers short, being extra cautious with what to share, but it seemed you did not mind. You sketched diagrams, jotting down notes with an ease that made Peter's hands tremble every time he made an attempt to help.
"So Peter," you suddenly announced after the silence, "why is it that you don't talk very much? At school I mean"
The question staggered him, rendering him blank while the colored pencil just hovered above the page.
Peter jerked up his head and looked surprised. "What do you mean? Talking is what I do. I mean, there's even people begging me to stop."
You smirked but didn't let it down. "I mean really, you're funny but I know nothing about you. What's your thing, Peter Parker?"
He didn't answer immediately but fiddled with the marker. "I'm just… some guy. Pretty boring, honestly. Not much to tell."
Your expression softened, "I don't buy that. You're not boring".
Your words made Peter's chest tighter. He wanted to believe you, yet the voice at the back of his mind reminded how wrong youwere. If you only knew the real him, the guy who had spent countless nights staring at your window, memorizing your every move, you wouldn't be smiling and sitting here before him.
"Hey, don't overthink it. You're cool. Let's just finish this masterpiece, okay?" you said, flicking his arm before he could answer.
Peter smiled forcedly
And when they finished the day's work, you walk him to the door once more, your smile as warm as ever.
"Thanks for coming over," you said. "You're actually a pretty decent partner, Parker."
"Decent?!" Peter gasped, clutching his chest in mock offense. "Wow. Don't hold back; tell me how you really feel."
And you laughed, shaking your head. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Peter waved. You waved back at him, as he strolled down the street, but he did not go very far. Instead, he found himself across the street in the same place, hidden under the shadow of the oak tree.
you were in your living room again, curled around a blanket and a pillow as you watched whatever was on your screen, your face glowing softly from the light of the television. Peter leaned against the tree with both hands shoved in his jacket pockets and simply watched.
How long he'd been there, he couldn't tell, but he didn't want to leave. This was the closest he ever felt with you, even if you didn't know he was here.
He knew this was crossing the line, but he couldn't help himself. He found himself sneaking into your house. Now he really felt like a robber trying to intrude a home, expect he wasn't really going to steal anything, or so he thought.
It was late at night, you and your family were already asleep at this point
Peter knew that the right thing to do was to head home. He knew for sure that this crossed a line even he wasn't sure he could come back from. But before he could stop himself, he was moving, slipping across the street and into the shadows of your yard.
His palms were slick with sweat as he scanned the side of the house. The metal trellis leading up to your window wasn't very solid, but it would hold him if he was careful.
He carefully climbed the trellis, not putting too much weight on it. And his heart was pounding as he got to your window, his fingers brushing against the cool glass.
It wasn't locked.
At that moment, his body froze. The rational part of him screamed to stop, to climb back down and pretend this never happened. But then his hand was on the window. And that soft sound of it sliding open seemed to be deafeningly loud in the stillness of the night.
He slipped into his feet and landed silently on the carpeted floor. Your room smelled of lavender and something warm and sweet like vanilla. A little bit of moonlight filtered through the curtains and brightened the room in pale silver.
There she was
You laid curled up in your bed, the blankets pulled up to your shoulders, your face peaceful in sleep. Peter’s breath caught in his throat. You looked so serene, so utterly perfect, that it made his chest ache.
He stood there for what felt like an eternity, just watching you. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to feel—satisfaction, maybe, or relief. But all he felt was a strange mix of awe and guilt.
This was wrong.
He knew it.
But he couldn’t bring himself to leave.
He looked around your room, it was full of polaroids of either you or your friends.
He started walking around your room quietly, careful to not wake you up in your slumber, because God knows what will happen if you saw him in your room with all its glory, he couldn't even imagine the disgust on your face.
But one thing caught his eye
Your bathroom was open, and in your bathroom was a basket with what he assumed inside were dirty laundry.
He knew it was disgusting, heck, over the top creep award would probably go to him, but he found himself walking towards the bathroom. It was wrong, but he still did it, he needs to get help, he thought to himself.
One second ago he was walking towards your bathroom, next thing you knew he was rummaging through your dirty laundry, occasionally smelling some of your shirts. He cherished the way your scent overwhelmed his nose, he was in Cloud 9.
While he was rummaging, a little piece of clothing caught his eye. With shaky hands he picked up the piece of clothing, it was your pink underwear with little cherries scattered everywhere as design.
He brought it near to his nose. He suddenly sat down in the neat cold tiles of the bathroom floor, he smelt it as if it was his oxygen.
He let out a small moan. He didn't know if it was an invisible force making him do such things, but he found his hands unbuttoning his pants
Peter Parker sat in the rest room; hand clasped tight around the lacy edge of the pink panty. He took out his hardened length of his boxers. The scent of dirty panties wafted his nose.
He imagined you wrapped around his throbbing cock, he thought of the feeling of your tight little pussy riding his cock, he wanted the sweet nectar from your lips, while having a feast on your quivering hole. His cock throbbed in his palms, his hands were much faster now, stroking his hardened cock. He had to bite his tongue to keep himself from moaning
Why was he doing this? You were literally there, outside the bathroom, sleeping. And Peter was here, out in the open, jerking off to the smell of your used panties
He was drenched in sweat as his hairs stuck to his wet forehead. He fantasized about your perky tits; perfect little nipples erect in anticipation. Pumping the shaft rapidly, imagining you on all fours begging for more, the bounce of your tits while riding him moaning his name like a mantra, Peter, fuck Peter, Peter, oh my God!
Peter was breathing heavily, his release was near, he profusely pumped his manhood, his hands and cock covered in his sticky pre-cum.
He wanted to feel you inside him, want you to quiver in pleasure as he fucks you over and over again.
He felt a sudden wave of pleasure hitting him, before he knew it, he released a flooded torrent of jizz into sticky cum as it scattered all over the floor. He slumped against the wall, heaving as he tried to steady his racing heart. He looked outside the door, finding you in the same spot as you were. You were sleeping oh so peacefully
He gazed at you, his heart full of unfulfilled yearning. He desperately wanted to be part of your world, to be someone you chose to let in. Yet no matter how many jokes he made or how close you seemed; he knew deep in his heart that he was not enough.
A soft sound broke the silence.
Peter's eyes snap to the bed, and his stomach lurch at the realization that you were stirring. Your brows knitted, your breathing started shifting, just as if you were going to wake up.
He immediately threw your panties back into the basket as he stood up and fixed his underwear and pants
He felt panic surging him, he immediately sprinted near the window. It made a loud a thud, now he was fucked
He moved quickly and quietly without thinking as he quietly ran towards the window. Just as you were about to opene your eyes, he slipped stealthily past the fluttering of curtains.
He tried scrambling down the trellis and found the ground, shivering and shaking as he did so.
He was hidden in a shadow corner, looking up towards your window. You were sitting up now, rubbing your eyes and looking around your room with a sleepy confusion.
Peter's chest tightened.
What's the matter with him?
He hurried as he turned away, his footsteps quiet against the pavement
The cool night air wrapped around Peter Parker like a cold, suffocating blanket as he walked back toward his house. Each step seemed to slant further and further as if his sneakers were scuffing wet against the cracked pavement in a slow and deliberate rhythm.
It was as if the world had gone still—entirely quiet. No cars were heard, no distant chatter, no hum of the city. Just Peter, the quiet whistle of wind through leaves, and the pounding thuds of his thoughts.
With that, he shoved his hands deep into his jacket pockets, his fingers curling into tight fists. Replaying the scene, he heard the soft sound of your breathing, the warmth of your room, and the way you stirred in your bed as if you had felt him there.
What the heck are you doing, Parker? He hadn't intended to climb into your room. He hadn't intended for it to get this far. Watching from the shadows was one thing, but tonight… tonight he had crossed a line.
He stopped moving and leaned against the lamppost, his breath escaping him in short, sharp gasps. Above him, the light flickered, shining unevenly across his shadow on the ground.
"This isn't me," he whispered to himself, the voice trembling.
But wasn't it?
Hadn't he been staring at you for years, taking notes while you weren't looking, memorizing all of your movements, laughter, and smiles? He had told himself that it was just harmless admiration from a distance, but now it was clear.
What would you think if you knew?
He sighed, Peter threw back his head and gazed up at the sky. Above him the stars, though cold and distant, seemed on to him— judging him in silence.
With the words of Uncle Ben echoing in his mind, With great power comes great responsibility, Peter winced.
Peter's jaw clamped down. Not great power; not yet. But wasn't all this part of it? Taking responsibility for his actions, owning up to his mistakes before they spiraled uncontrollably out of hand?
It hit him like a gut punch.
He wouldn't ever be able to take it back. Nor would he ever be able to wipe away the fact that he'd violated your space, your privacy, in a way you might never forgive. But he could stop it from going any further. He could ensure that you never found out.
@gloomskulls 2024. DON'T COPY, TRANSLATE OR USE ANY OF MY WORKS HERE OR ANY OTHER WEBSITES. Photos don't belong to me
Pairing(s): Alpha Andrew Garfield x Omega Male Reader
CW: omegaverse
Rating: Fluff
Requested: Yes
Word Count: 2.3k
Summary: You and Andrew have been married for five years and have had a baby during that time. He wanted to avoid public attention and possible backlash against you and the baby. That changed when he received a call from the babysitter, who reported that something was wrong. (Nothing bad, he just wanted his parents’ touch.)
DISCLAIMER: This is fiction! Don’t be delusional.
NOTE: It's been a while since I wrote omegaverse. So, maybe trashy, and this takes place in 2021.
“What was it like suiting up as Spider-Man again? It's been like seven years since you last donned the suit. Now you’re in the new Spider-Man movie, how does it feel?”
Andrew smiled and gave a rehearsed laugh as he listened to the interviewer. It was a straightforward question regarding his role in Spider-Man: No Way Home, a simple and easy answer, but it had Andrew reminiscing about the past. It had been seven years since the last Spider-Man movie he starred in, and he got busy during that time. He had met you, the most charming, handsome, and kindest male omega.
You worked as a costume designer, coordinating his wardrobe throughout the various scenes. As a result, he worked closely with you, involving close physical contact, frequent character discussions, and sometimes late-night sessions. It was professional in the beginning, but Andrew’s alpha instincts began to notice you. Your omega scent lingered on his costumes for too long, allowing Andrew’s nose to inhale your scent.
It was like any omega scent: rich and comforting, but yours was different. It stood out from the sea of omega and alpha scents, a hint of honey with a touch of vanilla bean. It’s soft and sweet, not too overpowering, just perfect. This scent affected him on a personal level, causing his alpha to become overbearing and demanding more of him.
He would find himself clinging to and taking anything that had your scent on it, sniffing it to calm himself after a stressful day of rehearsal. He could feel all the stress leave his body, replaced with warmth and comfort. Whenever you were stressed or annoyed, he could smell it a mile away; your usual sweet and pleasant scent was replaced by a rancid, burnt smell that wafted through the air. The smell made his nose scrunch up, his nostrils burning as his alpha brain was telling him to seek you out to cheer you up. Andrew always knew how to make your day better.
…
“I’m fine, everything is fine!” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. There was an awkward silence that followed, with your foot tapping the floor from annoyance and stress.
“Mhm… Your body language is telling me otherwise… and your scent is very overbearing.” Andrew said, his nose scrunching from the burnt smell, before continuing. “How about we go somewhere? We still have an hour until it's back to work.”
You were also affected by Andrew’s scent. The room would be filled with Andrew’s scent before he spoke: sandalwood mixed with clean musk, warm and smooth that made your stomach flutter, heart beat faster, and cheeks turn red. He reeked of warmth and comfort that made your omega yearn for him; your instincts told you that Andrewwass the perfect alpha, the ideal mate. He would be the anchor that held you down. You would purposefully scent the costumes, knowing that Andrew relished it, which led to better performances.
Throughout the production of the film, you two were almost always alone together, either for post-rehearsal tweaks or late fittings. The bond grew stronger, evolving from professional to personal as Andrew took you out for coffee dates or brought you coffee during an especially tiresome day.
He would sit down and chat about random things or his interests, and you would find yourself entranced, the world around you fading with only you and him in it. Andrew was the same as well, fascinated by anything you were talking about to the point where he dozed off into a la-la land, and you had to repeat everything.
Your omega and Andrew’s alpha connection was solidified after the movie was released when the alpha asked you out, “I was wondering if you'd like to go out with me? Not like those coffee dates, I mean an actual date.” You dreamed of this exact moment every night, playing out every scenario and response in your head, and you agreed without hesitation. Your heart fluttered from seeing Andrew’s eyes brightening, his scent becoming stronger, and his iconic smile finding its way on his mouth.
After that, you’ve been secretly dating ever since. Andrew didn’t want you to suffer from the paparazzi harassment and possible backlash from the media. After a couple of years, he proposed to you, and two years later, you both welcomed a new child into the world.
xxx
“Is Andrew currently with us? Seems you dozed off,” the interviewer chuckled, turning to the broadcast cameras and audience as he waved his hand in front of Andrew’s face.
“Sorry, I was reminiscing… wearing the suit. Feels surreal to don the suit again. I’m—,” Andrew was cut off by his phone vibrating violently in his pocket. Thinking the worst, he pulled out the device and checked the contact: it was the babysitter. He answered the phone mid-interview, and he didn’t care about the murmuring and questionable stares or that it was being broadcast on live TV.
“Something wrong? Something happened to the baby?” Andrew said with a hushed voice, looking away from the cameras.
“I tried to calm him down, but he wants his parents.” The babysitter said frantically as they continued attempting to calm down the angry child, “Shhh, it's okay!” Andrew could hear wailing and crashing in the background. An attempt was made, but it was unsuccessful. Andrew felt his expression falter as his fatherly, alpha instincts told him to rush to his child. The babysitter most likely notified you about the situation as well.
“I’m coming over,” the call ended.
“Something came up. I need to go.” Andrew said, rising from his chair and bolting out of the room before anyone could ask questions. Cameras clicked and voices followed. The PR team was inquiring about what was happening and why Andrew had ended the interview abruptly, but they didn’t receive a response.
…
Andrew pulled up in the driveway, turning off the engine and hastily gathering his belongings before slamming the car door. His inner thoughts were yelling at him to go faster and soothe his crying child. The second Andrew opened the door, he was met with loud hiccuping wails echoing from the nursery room upstairs and the calm voice of the babysitter trying to calm him down. His heart clenched from hearing his precious baby cry.
Meanwhile, you were rushing home too. You called a trusted friend to look after the young child, telling them that you had to run a quick errand and would be back in a couple of hours. You scented the blankets, toys, and pillows with yours and Andrew’s scent so that the toddler could still feel his parents being with him.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Garfield!” the sitter frantically said as they stepped into the hallway, hearing the front door opening and footsteps approaching the nursery. They were flustered and panicked, moving out of the way so Andrew could take control. “I tried everything! He refused to take his bottle, blankets, and toys!”
Andrew moved past the sitter and stepped into the nursery, his senses flooded with the scent of his distressed child and the lingering traces of his omega’s scent on some items. He saw their son sitting in his crib, face red and clenched, as tears stained his face. The cries faltered once he saw his papa enter the room.
“Hey, hey, I’m here… papa is here,” Andrew whispered, approaching the crib and reaching in. He scooped the baby into his arms, holding him close to his chest. He shushes and rocks the baby while releasing his scent, the smell wrapping around the crying baby like a soft blanket.
The cries dwindled into soft hiccups as the baby buried his head into Andrew’s chest, inhaling the calming scent of his parent. His tiny fists curled into Andrew’s collar, gripping the fabric as if telling his papa to never leave again. With each shaky breath, the thunderstorm that was his tantrum settled. The wailing was replaced with soft coos and quiet sniffling.
“You just missed us, huh? I know, I know… I missed you. You can leave by the way, I’ll transfer the money later.” Andrew smiled as he made funny faces to entertain the baby. He pressed a soft kiss on the baby’s hair, and bliss overcame Andrew as he heard a string of babbling noises of delight, followed by the boy’s eyes crinkling and feet kicking against his arm in approval.
The sitter nodded and gave a goodbye, their footsteps fading as Andrew was engrossed with his bundle of joy.
A minute later, the front door slammed open, its sound reverberating across the house, and hurried footsteps approached the nursery room.
“I came as quickly as I could! What happened? Is he alright?” you frantically said, voice cracking as you didn’t register the baby’s happy coos or Andrew standing in the center of the room holding him. Your omega instincts were roaring in your head, drowning out everything as your sole focus was the baby and his well-being.
“Hey, it's okay. Look, he’s okay. Isn’t that right?” Andrew coos as he walks towards you, presenting the baby in his arms. The baby noticed you, giving a soft, happy gurgle that sounded almost like a laugh. The adrenaline coursing through you came to a halt as your body and omega instincts realized there was no danger. Your senses were overwhelmed by the warmth and milk scent of the nursery mixed with Andrew’s alpha scent.
“Come here, honey,” Andrew said, pulling you into a hug, one hand cradling their son and the other one wrapped around your waist. Your tensed muscles relaxed as you melted into the hug, resting your head on Andrew’s chest. The baby gave a loud yawn, drifting off to sleep, comforted by the affection and scents of both his parents.
“I guess he wanted his papas…”
“Most definitely.”
xxx
Andrew’s sudden departure from the interview without any reason circulated on social media. Many fans and the news began speculating about the cause: illness, emergency, or family? Speculations circulated on social media apps, with one theory becoming increasingly believable: a secret family or someone special. The PR team was having a field day trying to quell any misinformation or invasive posts.
“What were you thinking!? You can’t just vanish like that! People are asking questions.”
Those words from Andrew’s PR representative rang through his head. Andrew’s chest aches, and he looks at his husband sleeping with their baby boy. The baby had his tiny fists tangled in your shirt, anchoring himself to your body. “I did the right thing,” Andrew mumbled, the bed sinking underneath his weight as he cautiously pulled you closer. His alpha agrees with him.
Our family comes first. You did what was right.
Andrew knew firsthand how invasive and aggressive the paparazzi can be. He wanted to protect you from the harassment and scrutiny that comes with dating a celebrity. It worked, but it was painful. He wanted the world to know, everyone to know about you and how much of a lovely person you are.
Times have somewhat changed. Due to the rise of social media and the increased control celebrities exerted, the paparazzi became less of a nuisance. They were still a nuisance to deal with, but it was more manageable now than ten years ago. Andrew decided it was time to present his family to the world.
…
After a couple of days of silence, Andrew’s followers on his social media received a notification of a new post. It was a picture of him, you, and the baby, sitting together with the baby held in both of your hands. The caption read: “They’re my family. They’re my home.” (cheesy and cringey, I know).
The public’s reception was positive, with many praising the alpha for his honesty, care for his family, and congratulating him on the baby boy. Within hours of the post being live, it reached the trending tab with hashtags flooding the feed, and articles churned out new content.
There was some negative response, mainly from parasocial individuals who think they have a chance with him, and internet trolls or bots. Other than that, it was all positive, and it made you shed tears. It made Andrew no longer feel burdened, and he could relax and be open with you.
Your hand trembled slightly as you scrolled through the comments while playing with the baby. Tears of joy ran down your face as your omega cheered in celebration. You sniffled softly, wiping away the tears.
“I love Andrew more.”
“Protect that omega and baby at all costs!”
“I want this type of love to reach me.”
“Such a cute family!”
Andrew stepped into the room, seeing you scrolling and sniffling while playing with the baby. His alpha roared at him to comfort you or just accompany you. Taking three long strides and sitting beside you, his hand cupped your face and pressed a soft kiss on your lips. “You actually did it,” you said with teary eyes.
“I did. I want everyone to know who I come home to, who I love, and who’s mine.” Andrew replied as he pulled back, resting his hand on his knees. The baby gurgled happily as he crawled between you and started nibbling on Andrew’s hand.
“They love us.”
The End
Author’s note: Hello, my strawberries! I hope y’all enjoy this fic! My first real omegaverse in years, and I feel like it was all over the place. Still hoped this was good!
Very special thanks to my proofreader: @sagethegaywitch
Taglist: @hiddens-eden @spnfanboy777 @buckyshusband0 @zamfam4272 @raspberryyuuki @maxxioislost @furiousflowercreation @ghostking4m @sluttyhusband @wolf-knights @your-cow-boy @starboye @boypied @mack-thedork @sleep-0-deprived @cronasluvr
Join my taglist! Masterlist here! I have a k*-f* if you wish to support
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Summary: You can't stop thinking about your night with Peter, but you don't know how to find him, until you meet a certain masked vigilante who is weirdly willing to help you.
Word Count: 4212
Warnings: bit of angst, blood/ injury mention, alcohol mention,
A/N: no use of y/n, well that took a while lmao but this is the longest fic ive ever written
Masterlist
Part 1
“Oh, whatever happened with that guy you were talking to last night?” Your roommate asked while scrubbing the dishes from the breakfast you had made to help with her hangover.
“Heh, I’m surprised you even remember that.” Maybe if you turn it back to her, you won't have to explain that you were ditched after you made a move on a guy.
“I wasn’t that drunk, and I never heard you come in,” she looked over her shoulder quickly to raise an eyebrow at you.
“Yeah, I didn't get back ‘til late. I walked from Paisano's, the pizza place. " You were wiping crumbs off the table, mostly to have something to do with your hands. You glanced away from the table to the living area. A beam of sunlight, hazy with dust, cut across the collection of mismatched furniture the two of you crammed into the small space.
“Oh, does he live on campus too?” She asked simply.
“Uh, no, I was by myself,” you tried to play it off coolly, rubbing the crumbs from your palms. You were trying to focus more on how to rearrange the furniture than where the conversation was heading.
“What!?!?” She dropped the fork and the sponge she was holding back into the sink and turned around to where you were sitting at the small dining table. You sighed and gave her a play-by-play of the night before, with no difficulty in recalling the details as you've been replaying the events in your head since it happened.
“And, y’know, I thought it was going well and I was still a little tipsy, so I tried to kiss him. And he, like, jolts up suddenly and says he has to go. I was like ‘shit, I fucked up majorly’ and I was asking him like ‘whats wrong’ ‘are you okay’ and he's like ‘yeah, sorry, I just have to go’ and runs, no joke, into an alley.”
“What the fuck?” She was offended for you, and you shrugged at her.
“Like, other than that, nothing weird happened, so I don't even know if it was me or…” You took a moment to think. Was there anything else? “Except, maybe I made a stupid joke saying he was like my ‘super hero,’ and he was blushing and nervous, but I assumed I just embarrassed him. And it was totally fine after that, too,” you reasoned.
“Yeah, I don't know, that is bizarre,” she thought for a second, leaning her back on the counter, “maybe he got nervous because you found him out, he is a superhero, and he ran off because you found his secret identity?’ she suggested with a laugh.
“Ha, ha,” you rolled your eyes at the ridiculous idea, “that would be better for my ego, though,” you rationalized, crinkling up a paper towel in your hands.
“See, that's how you have to think about it,” she came around to put her hand on your shoulder, “you just went on a date with, like, Daredevil,” she pushed you playfully.
“That'll be my interesting fact about myself when classes start up.” You joked too, but the smile you put on your face didn’t quite make it to your eyes.
“Listen, even if he is Daredevil, he’s an idiot for ditching you.” She gave you a sweet smile and gave your shoulder a squeeze before turning back around to the sink to finish with the dishes. You knew what she meant; you should think Peter is an idiot and maybe even be mad at him for leaving you stranded, but for some reason, you just couldn’t.
-
The stone brick buildings around you looked far less intimidating, both from this angle and in the orange glow of the setting sun below the horizon. Even from the rooftop you were sitting on, you could still hear the echoes of laughter, distant conversations, and the quiet thump of music. It all felt so far, though, like you were detached because of the swirling anxieties in your mind. Each inhale from your bowl offered a sense of comfort, a hazy buffer from your stresses. The familiar skunky sweetness coated your lungs, a dull contrast to the sting of unanswered questions that still wandered in your head.
The questions and shock of your night with Peter, the weight of the semester, deadlines coming faster than you expected, and the lingering feeling that you're not meant to be here. Another drag, and the smoke is swirling into the cool Manhattan air, mirroring the aimless wandering of your thoughts. It felt like everyone else was settling in and finding their rhythm, and you still felt like you being here was a mistake. You don’t know why you think like this; if it were a mistake, they surely would have caught it years ago. But everyone here was so smart, and you couldn’t even comprehend that you were on the same level as them.
The heat in the back of your throat caused a sputtering cough to rise up in your chest that you tried to hold back until something caused the remaining lawn chairs near you to clatter together in a crash. You looked back, when you could open your teary eyes back up, and you saw a blurry red and blue blob. You heard a low groan as you blinked the tears away. You could see the figure struggling to get up using the cheap lawn chair as their support. Once they stood and stumbled forward, you could see that it was a very injured Spider-Man hobbling toward the ledge you were sitting on.
“Oh shit,” you both spoke at the same time when you caught each other's eyeline, or as much as you could through the mask, you quickly tried to hide the bowl and grinder you were using just a second ago.
“Nuh-uh I smelled that a mile away way, I’m taking you in,” he lazily pointed at you as he lowered himself to the floor, “right after I lay down for a sec,” he let out a deep breath as he hung his long legs over the ledge and laid back with one arm behind his head. The other lay across his torso, “jus’ stay there.”
“Are- are you okay?” you nervously squeaked out. You didn’t know what else to do when the Spider-Man was sitting here in front of you.
“Yeah, why do you ask?” he huffed out a laugh as he shifted around to get more comfortable, but with every move he seemed to hit a new bump or bruise.
“Uh, you’re bleeding, like a lot.” You saw a tear in his suit on his side that revealed a long cut that wept with blood, coating his skin and staining the surrounding suit. “Can I help?” You didn’t know how to stitch it up or anything useful like that, but you did have a first-aid kit with some gauze and tape that may help slow the bleeding.
“No, I’ll be okay, it’ll heal,” he moved to sit up with another painful groan, and you offered your hand to help, “Oh, hey,” his voice softened when he used your hand to pull himself into your eyeline. “What’re you doing up here?”
“What? Are you sure you don’t need any help?” You were certainly out of your element, but he seemed calm enough, which helped you not freak out even move.
“Just keep talking, it’ll distract me.” He folded his knees up to his chest and rested his folded arms on top of them.
“What do you want me to say?” You wrapped your arms around yourself due to both the cold breeze and as a way to soothe your nerves.
“Just anything, ‘like your voice,” the way he said it, so casually, like it was obvious, made you wonder if he had heard it before.
“You like my voice?” You hadn’t spoken much since his crash landing, not enough to make a judgment about your voice.
“Mhm, tell me about your day,” he suggested. You explained that you did some chores around the apartment before you went to your class today. You talked about how you had a test coming up that you’ve been avoiding studying for; you weren’t feeling up to it. You don’t know why, but you let your feelings pour out; maybe you just needed to get them out, or it was nice to actually have someone listening to you, even if he was half-conscious. He was still letting out acknowledgments that he was listening; he might not have been comprehending, but he was listening.
“And then, there was this thing with this guy…” You trailed off a bit, not sure if you should get into it again; you knew you should probably let it go by now, but something still bugged you about the encounter. It just didn’t make sense to you.
“What was it?” He picks up his head from where it was resting on his folded arms.
“It’s stupid, really,” you shrugged, “I just got ditched by a guy I wanted to get to know more.”
“Ditched?” He actually sounded a bit hurt. Yeah, it sucked, but even if he was empathizing with you, you weren't sure if it garnered that reaction. You shrugged again; you didn't want to make a big deal of your dating woes.
“I don’t know, he kinda ran away when I tried to kiss him,” you muttered, embarrassment still lying heavily on your chest.
“No,” he argued softly, and you couldn’t help but furrow your eyebrows, “I mean, what an idiot,” it seemed like he was saying more to himself than to you.
“And the thing is that, even if I wanted to, I can't even talk to him.” You were trying to convince yourself of the contrary, but you really, really wanted to.
“Have you tried… finding him or..?” He cocked his head to the side with the suggestion. You tried to look for a glimpse of his eyes through the lenses of his mask, but were only met with the blank white plastic.
“Isn’t that… like creepy?” You had definitely thought about it, but you didn’t know all that much about him. Like, if you even knew his last name, you would have googled and found him on social media by now, and not even in a weird way. Not that weird, at least. But all you really knew about him was that his name is Peter, he's a photojournalism major, and he lives in Queens. In hindsight, you could definitely find something with that information.
“Who knows? He could be doing the same thing,” Spider-Man shrugged, and you didn’t know if he was disoriented from his wounds or if he got a contact high, but he was oddly invested in the situation.
“You're not condoning stalking, are you, Spider-Man?” you joked like you wouldn’t find yourself looking up where and when photojournalism classes were held on campus.
“No, no, not ‘stalking,’ it's called reconnaissance,” he waved his hand in a silent ‘no big deal’ as he was pulling himself to his feet. When he stretched his arms above his head, your eyes found the tear in his suit again. Still, there was a nauseating amount of blood drying onto his skin and suit, but the deep slash was reduced to a minor scratch.
“Look at that, good as new,” he hovered his gloved hand over the previous wound, when he felt your gaze on his body. “Just need to fix up the suit.” He affirmed to himself while pulling at the fabric that was sticking to his skin. You suddenly felt small under his gaze again, as if you’d forgotten that you’d been talking to the actual Spider-Man, not just a guy in the suit. This was the same Spider-Man that you’d caught glimpses of swinging around the city. The same Spider-Man you’ve had morality conversations in classes about. The same Spider-Man you’ve seen fan cams of on social media. And he’d been sitting in front of you for the last hour giving you boy advice. You stood from your seat as well, quickly gathering your things into your pocket.
“I guess, I’ll see you around?” Once again, you tried to retreat into the fabric of your hoodie by wrapping your arms around your middle, but relaxed a bit when you heard him chuckle. You looked back at him to see that he was stretching one arm across his chest, then the other.
“Heh, hopefully in better circumstances,” he was bouncing on the balls of his feet and shaking out the muscles in his arms as he made his way closer to the roof’s edge. He gave you a wave, and before you could even raise your hand to return it, he fell backward off the edge. Just a moment later, you saw a web shoot up to a taller building nearby, and Spider-Man swinging into the distance on the end of it. You knew he probably couldn't see you, but you waved back at him anyway.
_
“This is so stupid,” you mumbled to yourself, closing your book for the third time in the past ten minutes you've been sitting on this bench. You sighed, opening the book again, read a few words, looked up at the building across the sidewalk from you, The Harrison Building. Keeping your gaze on the building, all glass and sleek stone, you shut the book again and put it to the side, underneath the name was smaller text reading ‘School of Media and Culture.’ You check the time on your phone: 4:57. You start to rehearse lines in your head, “Oh, hey, it's nice to see you again!” “How have you been?” “Have you been thinking about me as much as I’ve been thinking about you?” “Oh, I was just walking around campus,”
It all sounded so bad. So needy. Too premeditated. You wince to yourself and grab the coffee you had abandoned after you sat down. Maybe this was a mistake. You could leave now. Just get up, walk back to your apartment, and let this whole thing go. No one would even know. And you could keep what dignity you had left.
You glanced back towards the big glass doors. A few people were milling around in the lobby. Any minute now, some lecture would end and the building’s inhabitants would spill out, ready to leave their studies behind to start their weekend. And you couldn’t be here for that. Because he was in there. You knew it. You knew it because you found yourself looking up the courses needed for a certain degree that you were not pursuing. You knew it because you remembered him complaining that his only late class was on Fridays, on the far side of campus, and the nearest subway station was an annoyingly way away, even on his skateboard.
Then the big glass doors open. There’s a rush of voices and a gust of air-conditioned wind. You’re quick to wrestle your bag’s straps over your shoulder, all while trying to shove your book inside and holding the coffee you let go cold. Before you could succeed in your endeavor, you heard your name being questioned from within the crowd of students.
“Oh my god, hey, what are you doing on this side of campus?” You knew it was Peter, you turned to see him jogging over to you, in that same green jacket he was wearing that night at the bar, this time the sleeves were pushed up to show his toned, vascular forearms. His hair was that perfectly messy that could only be achieved by playing with it too much. And his smile. A smile like he was genuinely happy to see you. A smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. A smile that disarmed all the anxieties that were bouncing around in your head.
“Uh-” God, why didn’t he stick to your made-up script? “My roommate said the coffee shop over here was pretty good,” you gestured with the paper cup in your hand, your opposite hand still tangled in the straps of your bag.
“Wait, really?” he chuckled out, and the crinkles by his eyes deepened.
“Yeah, it's pretty bad though,” you laugh too, remembering why you left it to get cold in the first place.
“I’ve heard a couple of people describe it as gasoline,” he says, like he’s letting you in on some juicy gossip, and you affirm that it is the truth.
“Last time I listen to a tea drinker,” you joke back, matching his long-legged stride when he starts on the way toward the campus quad after tipping the paper cup into a nearby trash can.
“I don’t know, she has a funny way of getting us together somehow,” he playfully bumps your shoulder with his own. Your knees almost buckle, but somehow you keep yourself upright.
“Yeah, I guess she does,” you feel your face heat up. I guess you owe her a tea now.
“I am really happy to see you again,” Peter smiled down at you, and laughed to himself, then explained, “I didn’t know if you would even want to after I ran off like that.” he shrugged and scratched at the back of his neck.
“I wasn't sure that you'd want to see me.” You laugh out, awkwardly. He furrows his eyebrows at your words, so you go on, “Y’know, ‘cause I was less than sober when I tried to kiss you.” You cringe up at him and worry your teeth into your bottom lip.
“That's not why you thought I left, was it?” He stops in his tracks and brushes his fingers on your upper arm. His fingers flexed like they wanted to hold you. You continue forward for a step and let out another awkward laugh.
“I didn’t not think that,” you turn around to face him again and see his saddened expression.
“That's not at all why I left,” he shook his head in disbelief and let out a breath, “of course I wanted to kiss you,” he insisted, now avoiding looking into your eyes. From embarrassment or guilt? You couldn’t know.
“Then why did you go?” You kept your gaze on his face, looking for any change in his expression. He pulled his eyebrows together and frowned as he thought for a beat.
“Not ‘cause of anything you did.” He was looking back into your eyes now, “promise,” he punctuated with a smile. You smiled back, hoping it reached your eyes enough to look convincing. There was obviously something that happened, but he didn’t want to tell you about it that night, and he still didn’t want to now. And he didn’t need to. Nor did he owe you an explanation. But rationalizing that didn’t stop you from passively wondering.
“So…” He started again, pulling you from your thoughts. “Did you have any plans for this weekend?” he ran his hands on the sides of his jeans, and you noticed his shoulders were up near his ears.
“Pfft, nothing fun or anything, probably just laundry,” you shrugged and mentally kicked yourself for not even trying to make yourself seem more interesting. But Peter still smiled in response.
“Do you maybe wanna hang out?” He asked. “With me again?” He specified. “This weekend?” He specified again.
“Really?” Mentally, you were kicking yourself again for sounding so surprised that someone who just said they wanted to kiss you asked to hang out.
“Yeah! I mean, it could be like a do-over of the other night. And I promise I won’t run away if you try to kiss me again,” He offered with that smile of his.
“Nuh-uh, I’ve been scorned,” you shake your head and mock a pout at him, “If you want to kiss me so bad, you’re gonna have to make the move this time,” you crossed your arms over your chest, stubbornly.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he leaned in toward you, and for a moment, you thought he was trying to kiss you now, especially when he glanced down at your mouth. You were about to lean toward him and close the distance between your lips until he pulled away and let out a deep breath. “Uhm, I probably should’ve asked this earlier, but can I- can I get your number?” he pulls his phone out of his pocket and gestures with it.
“Uh, yeah, of course,” you were still trying to recover from being so close to him. Once he unlocked the device and opened the Contacts app, he handed it over to you. You typed your name and phone number on the shattered screen and briefly considered a heart emoji next to your name. In the end, you settled on the kissy face without the heart. When you gave his phone back to him, you heard a quick exhale from his nose and saw the corners of his mouth tug up. A moment later, your phone dinged with the sound of a new message, that same kissy emoji from an unnamed number.
“So, are you heading back home?” He asked while he shoved his phone back into his pocket. You nodded, dropping your phone back into your bag, and stepped in sync with him. The streetlights flickered on above you as the sun began to dip behind the skyscrapers.
“Yeah,” you replied, glancing up at him. “Not far.”
“Cool. I can walk you there, if you want,” Peter suggested, matching your pace, slipping his hands into his pockets.
You felt that familiar flutter in your chest, the kind that made you wonder if this could be the beginning of something. “I’d like that,” you said, smiling at the ground as you felt his eyes shift toward you.
A quiet back-and-forth filled the space between the occasional glances and the soft pads of footsteps. He asked you about your classes, and you told him about your schedule, your assignments, and interesting classmates. He shared stories about his own classes, courses that he's breezing through, and others that are giving him trouble. He told you about his favorite spots around the city, the places you “can find a way better cut of coffee,” quiet spots to get a break from the noise, and bodegas with cats. You shared a bit about your hometown and growing up in a smaller town. You found yourself laughing more than you expected, his dry sense of humor playing well off your own teasing.
Once you approached your dormitory, your cheeks hurt from smiling, and you didn’t want to go inside. You stood the the entrance, reluctant to break the flow of conversation. Peter stopped a step before the door, looking down at you with the same quiet smile, his eyes reflecting the glow of the streetlights.
“Well, this is me.” Your gaze shifted down to your shoes, where they kicked at the brick steps, “Thanks for walking me back.”
“Anytime,” he said with a grin and you saw his shoes step into your view. When you look up, you face to face with Peter once again.
“You better not ghost me this time,” you let out as a breathy laugh, hesitantly bringing your hands to his shoulders.
“I won’t, promise.” Again that smile and its gravitational pull, but this time you resist the urge to give into his orbit. Instead you stood your ground, keeping your eyes on his, batting your long lashes a few times just for good measure. His smile softens, a quiet warmth spreading in his eyes, as though he’s not just looking at you, but seeing you. The air between you hums and time seems to slow. His hands reaches up past yours, barely grazing your jaw.
You don’t look away, you try not to even blink in case when your eyes reopen he’ll be gone. HIs thumb traces your cheek, a silent question flicking in his eyes. You nod, just a little, and his lips found yours, soft, gentle, warm as if testing the waters. When your fingers card through the hair at the nape of his neck, he deepens the kiss, slow and tender, like hes trying to memorize the feeling of you lips. Your heart races, a soft flutter building from your tummy into your chest. His free hand finds your waist, steading you as the kiss grows more passionate, as if neither of you wants to break the delicate spell that encapsulated the two of you. When you finally pull away, his forehead rests against yours, breath intertwining, ragged and sweet.
“I’ll text you,” he nods against you, “and we can hang out this weekend? And do more of that?” he suggests with something that sounded like a mix of a laugh and a sigh.
“Yeah, definitely,” you didn’t hold back the smiling blooming across your face.
“Yeah?” he puled back away from you with a matching grin and continues when you give him a nod. “Night.” he takes a few more steps back but keeps his eyes on you.
“NIght Peter,” you give him a wave before wrapping your arms around yourself, missing his warmth.
“I’ll text you!” he repeats when he’s a bit further away and returns your wave before you head into your building.
Andrew Garfield x Reader / Tom Holland x Sister!Reader
Warnings: A litlte start of a smut.
Notes: Yeah i'm active lately right? I actually started this story when No Way Home was released in the cinemas but never finished. I restarted to write it when the news that Zendaya was engaged to Tom, and now it's finally out in the world! Might have gotten too excited about this. Was even thinking about writing more bonus scenes based on it hahah Enjoy!
Summary: You go to No Way Home studios to keep your brother, Tom, company but end up falling in love with another Spider Man.
Being the eldest sister of four younger brothers was... Interesting.
You weren't complaining tho. They were the sweetest boys you ever met. Loving, caring, talented and your best friends in the whole world. The Holland boys.
It wasn't like the age gap was that significant anyways. You and Tom were just two years apart, making you guys incredibly close. You told each other everything and everyone thought that you were twins, just like Harry and Sam, that were 4, almost 5 five years younger than you. And there was Paddy, the little one, who was 9 years younger.
The whole family was involved in some sort of art, and just like your mother, you turned to be a professional photographer and filmmaker, eventually getting some jobs in the cinematography industry. But whenever you had some break from work, you would arrange to pass some extra time with family. And that was exactly what you did.
"Why is taking you so long? Where are uuuu :("
You read Tom's message with a small smile, rolling your eyes knowing how clingy your brother could get when he wanted to. He was currently shooting his new spider man movie, no way home, and invited you to stay for a few weeks on set with him and Harry, who was working with Tom at the moment.
You were typing him an answer to say that you were walking lost in the gigantic set trying to find them, when suddenly someone appeared running and lifted you into his arms.
"(Y/N)!" You heard Tom's muffled voice say in your hair while he was hugging and whirling you. Man, you missed that hug. "I missed you so much sis."
"I missed you too bug." You said giggling when he put you down. "I can't believe I'm here. This set is insane... I'm proud of you."
"Don't start saying those things when you know I'm sensitive ok!" He claimed pointing a finger at you. "C'mom, Harry is dying to see you."
After Tom arranged someone to take your bags to his rented apartment that he was sharing with your younger brother, just a few minutes from the set, he started a mini tour while you were walking towards his trailer. He was telling you all about the settings, the costumes, how he has been, about his relationship with Zendaya - who, in that point, was already a close friend of yours - and of course, how excited he was for working with Toby Maguire and Andrew Garfield, the previous spiders mans.
You knew that was going to be an epic movie and your heart filled with joy and proud to see your brother in that spot.
"They are amazing (Y/N)... They truly are! I didn't think that we would hit so well, it's good to talk with people who understand the responsibility you know?" Tom said continuing to tell you about the other actors, while opening the door to his trailer. "You have to meet them!"
"Did you found our sister, mate?" You heard Harry's voice from the little bedroom in the trailer and you immediately smiled.
"Why don't you come here find out?" You said and saw his face with a smile emerging through the door and him coming to you with his arms opened.
"(Y/N)!" He exclaimed hugging you strong making you close your eyes and sigh in relief to be with your best friends again. "Urgh it's so good to have you here."
"I missed you guys so much. My babies." You said kissing Harry's head who enjoyed the caress. "But man, i wish Sam and Paddy were here now. It's not the same unless we're all together."
"I know right?" Harry said and Tom agreed. "But Sam is there, busy with his new girlfriend." He continued mocking his twin making you laugh. "When I thought I was free from hearing him talk about her, I get stuck in here and all I ever listen is 'Zendaya here, Zendaya there...”
"Oh shut up mate!" Tom said throwing a cushion in his face. "It's not like you weren't almost dating too!"
"Oh yeah?" You said crossing your arms to look at Harry. "This is news to me."
"It's nothing serious yet! I was going to tell you but Tom made the honors." Harry said annoyed and you huffed.
"So that makes me and Paddy the bachelors of the family?" You said putting a hand in your chest like you were offended. There were some years that you were single. It didn't really bother you, you were in a good place professionally and in this life, it was hard to conciliate a relationship unless the person was involved in the middle as well.
"Thank god. Paddy is just a kid and you are our girl." Harry said with jealousy and you rolled your eyes, even though you were the oldest, they somehow still got overprotective with you.
"Nah darling, I'm gonna find you somebody." Tom said putting his arm around your neck, pulling you close. "We're having a little happy hour with the staff tonight. Maybe there is someone interesting there... Tho Harry is right, you're our girl. It has to be someone great or no deal!"
"And you're my boys. Zendaya already passed the test, but I have to approve your mysterious girl Harry." You said lifting your eyebrows and they laugh.
"We have a lot to catch up sis. Let's get some lunch, I'm starving."
XxXxXxXxXxX
“(Y/N) are you ready?" You heard Tom ask and one second later his face appeared in the door frame.
"Hmmm yeah" You said giving yourself one last check in the mirror before turning to him. "How do I look?"
"Stunning as always." He said with a smile. "But relax, really. Is not going to be a big deal at all. Just some quality time."
The three of you used the lunch time to talk and gossip about everything and nothing in the same time, it was good being reunited with Tom and Harry again. After that, Tom had to finished one last scene before you went to the apartment they were renting to relax a bit and get ready for the happy hour.
Most of the cast was going to get two days off to recharge the energies since they were filming non stop for about two weeks now, and of course, they decided to take the opportunity to drink some beers and enjoy the company of the coworkers.
Once you got there, the happy hour was happening in a open space, close to the dressing and makeup rooms. You could see a lot of people still in the clothes they went to work, it really was just some quality time. They arranged a small bonfire with some seats around it, and a beer pong table.
"(Y/N)!" You heard and smiled when saw Zendaya walking towards you to give you a hug. "I missed you!"
"I missed you too!" You said but before you could continue, your brother interrupted you.
"Oh I see, talking to my sister before talking to your own boyfriend, shame on you Zendaya." He complained getting an eye roll from the both of you.
"You have such a drama queen as your brother (Y/N)!" She exclaimed giving him a chaste kiss. "Hey love."
"Hey darling." He said satisfied now with a silly smile on his face.
"He is such a crybaby, I really don't know you handle him." You joked.
"Look who's talking!" Tom mocked you and you all laughed. "Tobey! Hi!" Tom said out loud when he saw the first Spider Man with a beer on his hand approaching you looking a little lost. "I'm glad you could make it!"
"Just passed by to say Hi." Toby Maguire said shy in front of you. Man, it was so strange, you grew up watching those movies with Tom and the boys, and now look where you all were.
"This is my sister (YN)." Tom introduced you and you shook Tobey's hand.
"Pleasure to meet you (Y/N)." He said and you talked for a minute before he and Tom entered a conversation about some scenes, and you and Zendaya decided to gave them space. You had no idea where Harry was and that's why you stayed with her for some minutes, until she had to go to the bathroom.
You enjoyed the opportunity to go to the freezer to get a beer, but when you turned around, jumped a little when noticed someone just right behind you.
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you! Just trying to get something to drink as well". The mysterious man said rending his hand in surrender when saw your little scare. Excluding the fact that he wasn't some random guy at all... Well, if you were being honest, apart from Tom's movies, the Amazing Spider Man was your favorite.
Andrew Garfield stood in front of you with a small smile in his lips as he was trying to contain a laugh. Man, he was so much prettier in person, if it was possible. He was tall and his hair matched the color of his chocolate eyes.
"That's okay" You said laughing a little embarrassed. "Andrew right?"
"Yeah but you're new here...." He said looking at you with a curiosity that made you blush. "You're from production and i happened to miss?"
"Oh no, actually I'm Tom's older sister! Gonna stay around for a few days to keep him company. (Y/N), is a pleasure to meet you." You said extending your hand to him who gladly took it.
"It's my pleasure (Y/N). But Really? Tom's sister? I wouldn't say it" Andrew said looking surprised with the information but looking extremely interested.
"Well yeah... people assume we are twins even" You said giggling, suddenly a little shy. You could tell already that he was the type of person who just payed all of his attention to whoever he was talking to and seemed genuine interested on what others had to say. "But it comes with the fact that we are pretty close."
"That's sounds nice. Tom was saying the other day... you guys have a big family isn't it?" He asked frowning.
"It's me and four younger brothers." You answered making a 'tsc' sound with your mouth. People often got shocked by this information.
"Wow” He said with his eyes wide in surprise, crossing his arms. “That must have been challenging."
"Let's just said It made me tough." You said raising your eyebrow with a small smile and saw him opening one as well.
"I bet it did." He said staring at what looked like, into your soul, not looking away for one second. You gulped feeling a strange wave of cold in your belly. In that moment, you couldn’t think in another single soul on earth that showed some much interest in you, even only with their eyes.
But before you could say anything, you were interrupted by Tom and Zendaya that arrived by your side.
“Andrew! Hi! Oh (Y/N), I’m glad that you already met!” Your brother said excited. Andrew gave a small laugh looking down, finally breaking eye contact with you, and passing his hand behind his neck.
“Right, she’s was telling me that you guys are Twins, is that it?” He joked pointing at both of us and in the middle time, he gently greeted Zendaya with a small hug. Charming and a gentleman.
“Something like that, yeah” Tom said laughing exchanging a look with you. “Look, actually I was looking for you, Andrew. Me and Tobey had an idea for a scene that we would love to share it with you.”
“Oh sure.” Andrew said immediately nodding his head. “I would love to.”
“Amazing.” Tom said. He posed his hand in your shoulder, for you to look at him. “(Y/N), I catch up with you and Z later, ok?”
You nodded and with a last exchange stare between you and Andrew, they started to walk away.
“Oh, I almost forgot!” Andrew said turning around once more. “I was here to get a beer for me.” He chuckled, going straight into your direction, and you freezed when felt his fingers gently brushing in your waist, almost like he wasn’t touching you.
You looked into his chocolate eyes that were dangerously close and saw him trying to repress a smile, he looked like he was having so much fun with it.
“Would you excuse me (Y/N)?”
“Oh.” You said when you finally understood what was happening. You were still standing infront of the freezer. “Right. I’m sorry. Go ahead.”
“See you around, I hope.” Andrew said after getting the beer and following Tom to go meet Tobey.
You stood there seeing them walking away trying to understand what has just happened, and felt Zendaya approaching you with her arms closed and looking at the same direction.
“It’s just me or he was flirting with you?” She said and tho you weren’t looking at her face, you could sense a smart little smile hanging on her lips.
As if Tom knew what you were talking about, far away already, he looked back at you guys frowning his eyebrows before going back to his conversation with Andrew.
“I don’t know what you are talking about.” You said and heard Zendaya laughing.
XxXxXxXxXxX
“I’m gonna have lunch with Hannah today. See you at dinner xx”
You read Harry’s message and rolled your eyes with a smile. It has been 4 days since you arrived and you were starting to enter in the routine of your brothers. Harry told you all about the girl that he was seeing - Hannah who worked for the makeup team. And that’s why he disappeared in the night of the happy hour.
You were sitting outside of the studio Tom was working, editing some videos you filmed of him and Harry. Ok, you were in vacation. But you just couldn’t stop yourself of making a backstage film of his experience in No Way Home movie. It would make such a cute memory for Tom in the future and if he wanted to share it, the fans would love it.
“I was hoping I would see you again.” You heard a voice beside you and in this time, you knew exactly who it was.
“Is that so?” You asked with a small smile raising your head from your computer seeing the chocolate eyes that have been in your mind for the last few days. “Hi Andrew.”
“Hi (Y/N). But… well, yeah” Andrew chucked taking the seat next to you. “We didn’t get a chance of talking a lot that day…. Oh! Are you a video editor?” He started to say but got distracted when looked in your computer’s screen.
“I’m a filmmaker.” You answered repressing a smile for his curiosity. When you were younger and saw his spider man’s movies, it’s undeniable that he was cute. Who you were trying to fool. You thought he was hot. Years passed, you always admired his work…. but when Tom asked you to pass some days on set, you didn’t even thought much about how you were going to meet him there. “Tom didn’t want to in the beginning, but I convinced him that it would be fun if I documented a little behind the scenes video.”
“That’s adorable. Would you let me see it when you finish?” Andrew asked. He had his entire body turned toward you, with half of one leg resting on the bench, and he leaned his head on his fist.
“Only if you agree to appear in it.” You answered smartly and he laughed. Obviously, like Zendaya, you definitely noticed something going on you between you two that night. It was so brief and somehow you had his feeling you have known him forever. You just couldn’t stop thinking about it.
“Oh i see.” Andrew said caressing his small beard. “That depends on how the video will be distritubed.”
“Knowing my brother, the video will be only to be seen it, in Christmas time as a nice memory.” You giggled, closing your laptop to give him your full attention.
“Then you have all my permission to use my image as you please.” He said with a small smile. “Tom is a very sweet guy. Crazy talented. I respect him for understading, since now, how family and privacy are important things to cherish in this Industry.”
“Our whole family is envolved in some sort of art so it’s always been ease for us to see what really matters at the end of the day.” You answered, again so shocked how he was a guys that… really payed attention.
“Why aren’t you working here in the production?” He asked licking his lips.
“It’s true that my brother did try to make that happen.” You chuckled feeling your cheeks starting to burn from his staring. “But i just finished another project so the timing didn’t exactly helped.”
“That’s really a shame.” Andrew said simply.
Except that there was nothing casual in the way he said it. 4 little simple words, right? Wrong. He just let those words out of his lips like it was the lustful thing someone has ever said to you. Like it was the biggest declaration of being wanted, you ever received. Or was it you that were losing it from being stared by those chocolate eyes that you just couldn’t stop thinking about it?
“(Y/N), there you are!” You heard Tom’s voice approaching and you sighed. Interrupted. Again. Andrew smirked when saw your micro expression of frustation.
“Well, that was short-lived.” He murmurred with a light tone making you giggle.
Tom stood in front of you already in his Sports outfit, with his tennis racket bag over his shoulder. You saw the exactly moment when your brother’s eyebrows frowned slighty altering his gaze between the two of you, not really understading why Andrew was there. Confusion that quickly started to turn in assumptions when he opened a little accusatory smile.
“Hello guys.” Tom said still a little off and in that moment, you could see a lot of Peter Parker in him. “Hmm… Did i interrupt something?”
“Not at all.” Andrew laughed getting up of his chair. “Just saw (Y/N) here and thought i offer her some company.”
“…Ok.” Tom said still a suspicious. “Let’s go sis? I thought you would be ready by now.”
“Got caught up in editing.” You said gattering your stuff, getting up as well.
“Do you play tennis mate?” Tom asked turning his attention to Andrew. “You’re welcome to join us.”
“Maybe some other time.” Andrew said friendly, giving Tom a pat on the back. “I still need to revise some scenes. But thank you for the invitation. Have fun!”
He said waving goodbye and walking away, leaving you and your brother alone. Today, you guys agreed that after Tom’s appointments, he was taking you to play tennis. A family tradition.
You walked quietly to his car and it was only when he started to drive, that Tom decided to say casually:
“Andrew is a such a nice guy, right?” Tom said and you had to suppress the urge to roll your eyes.
“Hm yes, he is very polite” You answered measuring your words. Tom was your best friend and you knew you could say anything to him. But there was nothing to tell. Right?
“Polite hun?” He repeated your choise of word, nodding his head. “That’s an adjective.”
“Are you implying something?” You snapped looking at him, raising an eyebrow.
“What? No!” Tom shot back altering his gaze from the streets to look at you. “No!” He repeated seeing your expression.
“…Why? Is there something you want to tell me?” Tom asked after a few seconds of silence. You laughed, reaching out to turn on the radio.
“Not at all”.
XxXxXxXxXxX
It has been already 2 weeks you were living with your brothers, and now, pretty much everyone was used to your presence around the set. Made a few friends and you were honestly enjoying your work break.
Although it wasn’t everyday, Andrew has crossed your path a meaningful amount of times. First, when you were hanging out with Zendaya in the makeup trailer, waiting for her to get ready. He entered, along with Hannah (Harry’s girl) also to get ready for his scenes of the day. Suddenly the whole group of people who were there started to talk like you were all friends for ages. You would be lying if you didn’t catch him giving you random gazes.
The second time it happened, you had gone help Harry to organize Tom's stuff for the next scenes. You two went together to the costumes department when Andrew walked in with one of the assistant directors, deep in conversation. He noticed you, smiled, and gave you a little wave before disappearing through a hallway.
And the most recent one, he found you having lunch by yourself because your brothers were busy, and asked if he could join you. Andrew Garfield, besides being handsome and caring, was incredibly smart. And funny. You didn’t stop talking for 2 hours.
“Are you nervous?” You asked Tom, already in his Spider Man suit, from behind the camera you were holding, and he shook his hands anxiously.
“You are not helping with those kind of questions, sis.” He answered making you laugh. Today, was the first day of filming the big scene of the three Spiders Mans fighting the villains. Pretty much all the cast was there.
“You gonna do great.” You said still pointing the camera at him. It was a nice moment that you needed to keep for the video you were assembling.
“I love you.” He said sweetly making you smile.
“I love you more.”
Didn’t take long for him to go train some lines with Zendaya and Jacob, and you enjoyed the opportunity to walk around searching for precious moments to film. You walked some corridors, greeting and wishing good luck to people you crossed. Until you passed in front of one dressing room and saw Andrew, with his back to the entrance, completely absorbed in something else.
“If it isn’t Spider Man himself.” You teased entering the room already with your camera in hands, recording his reaction. He turned around confused, but opened a smile when saw it was you.
“Looking lovely as always, (Y/N).” He complimented you making you shiver. It was the first time also, you were seeing him in the super hero outfit.
“You don’t look so bad yourself, Garfield.” You said making him burst out of laugh.
“What do you think about my butt in the costume?” He joked doing a little spin.
“I thought I would be more impressed”
“Ouch, straight to my heart.” Andrew said putting his hand in the right side of his chest like he was hurt. “You’re lucky I’m not easily offended.”
He added with a smirk, walking over to grab his water bottle from the counter. He took a sip, eyes still on you, the playfulness never leaving his face.
“Though I might need to work harder on glute day at the gym now.” He said making you roll your eyes still recording.
“Don’t worry, your ego seems intact.”
Andrew stared you straight in the eyes, that way you were starting to get used to, ignoring the camera. He laughed slightly, before licking his lips.
“Let me take you out on a date.”
You lowered your camera, shocked with what you just heard, hearing your heart beating fast.
“What?” You whispered frowning your eyebrows.
“Let me take you out on a proper date.” He repeated getting closer to you. “I’ve been coming to work with much more energy lately since I learned I could bump into you. I would love to offer you a night that lives up to what you deserve.”
“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” You answered smiling feeling your cheeks burn. “I would like that very much.”
And just then, a voice shouted from the hallway : “Andrew, you're needed on set!”
“Tomorrow at seven.” Andrew said looking satisfied with your answer. “I‘ll pick you up!”
He shouted before following the PA out of the room. Leaving you with a silly smile playing on your lips.
XxXxXxXxXxX
“You look amazing.” Andrew said smiling opening the car door for you, when spotted you leaving the building.
“You gotta stop doing that.” You replied blushing hearing him laugh confused.
“What am I doing?” He asked before closing the door for you and contouring the car to enter the driver’s seat.
“You know what are you doing.” You said seeing him turning on the car.
“I really don’t, love.” He said still chuckling.
“You know, making me blush.” He paused for a second before pulling out of the spot. His hand moved to rest gently on your knee—a simple gesture, but it sent a chill up your spine.
“But you do look amazing.” Andrew said staring at you, and you looked away embarrassed, laughing.
“I was surprised when you asked me to pick you in Zendaya’s place.” He said starting to drive. “I thought you were staying with your brothers.”
“I am.” You explained. “But didn’t want them prying.”
“Ohh they don’t know this is happening?” Andrew asked amused.
“Nop.”
“Why tho? Aren’t you super close?”
“We are…” You began laughing embarrassed with your reasons. “But they gossip a lot. Don’t like telling them nothing that isn’t… concrete.”
“So you want this to be concrete?” He teased with a smirk.
“I didn’t say that.”
“Sure.” He said mocking you. You asked Zendaya if you could get ready in her place and she almost deafened you from the scream she gave when learned what you were doing. She was shipping you since the first night you meet Andrew.
“And we’re here.” He said after a few minutes of travel, with a light conversation between you two, getting ready to park the car.
“Andrew… there’s paparazzi over there.” You warned seeing a few mans in black, looking around with cameras in their hands. It was enough reason, the exposition of Andrew Garfield going out with Tom Holland’s sister, but on top of that, it was strictly prohibited Andrew being seeing in public to avoid spoilers to the movie.
“What?” He asked confused following your gaze. “Oh fuck…” He breathed out disappointed.
“I made a reservation, they’ve must…” Andrew began to explain, sighing, knowing that would ruin your night. “I’m so sorry (Y/N).”
“Hey, it’s ok.” You reassured him with a small smile. “I’m used to it, I know how it goes.”
“I-… fuck.” He laughed embarrassed a little lost on what to do. “Do you want to go to my place? I know it’s not ideal…”
“Sounds great.” You answer right away and he chuckled staring at you.
“Ok.” He said giving you one last check to assure him it was all fine, starting to drive again. “Great.”
With a few more minutes of driving, you arrived at his place, that you noticed that wasn’t too far away from Tom’s. It was logical to rent something close to the sets.
Andrew showed you around, before getting a bottle of wine in the kitchen. It was a cozy apartment, a bit fancy, but perfectly suited for one person.
“You will be pleased to know that an incredible pizza is on its way.” He joked serving you one glass.
“And you will be pleased to know that pizza is my favorite.”
“I’m one lucky bastard, aren’t I?” He breath out like he was relieved making you laugh. He raised his glass, toasting with yours.
Just like the time you had lunch together on set, you didn’t stop talking, unless it was to drink or eat the pizza he ordered. That was indeed very good. “I’m a man of my word”, he pointed. Andrew was so interesting and he seemed equally interested in you. He asked so many questions about your work, your passions, your family…. Sharing important details about his life as well. He was a literally dream of a man, and it felt surreal that after some years with disillusionment in love, someone like him would enter your life.
“I know i haven’t had yet the opportunity to see a lot of your work.” Andrew said putting the dishes you used in the washing machine, while you were leaning in the countertop finishing your wine, already a little tipsy. “But from what you showed me that day we had lunch together… it’s just so unique the way you perceive details. Giving attention to humain interaction that it’s often ignored.”
“That’s just you being nice.” You said laughing it off.
“Well, yes.” Andrew shrugged making you both laugh as he leaned in the sink countertop infront of you. “But also one hundred percent honest. I’d be lucky to work with a director as talented as you, if you want to switch to that in the future.”
You smiled soflty with the compliment, setting your glass beside you. You didn’t know if it was the alchool already having its effect, but this time, it was you that stopped everything just to stair at him. You felt the air of the moment changing, becoming heavier, thicker. He licked your lips, his posture being always of someone who was reading you. Trying to understand in between lines.
“It’s been a while since I last have been on a date.” Andrew confessed. “But since the moment i saw you in that happy hour, i knew i had to go to talk to you.”
“I thought you were just being polite.”
“Oh no” Andrew chuckled. “I was being very not polite in my mind.”
“And what about now?” You asked, breathing out, not being able to hold anymore that nervous excitement bubbling in your chest.
Andrew tilted his head, smiling like he knew exactly what you meant—like he’d been thinking the same thing. Slowly, he stepped closer, now just a breath away from you, the only thing between you both being the soft tension that had been building all night.
“Now…” He said, voice lower, eyes flicking between yours and your lips, resting his hands on either side of the counter, trapping you. “There isn’t a single appropriate thought running in my mind.”
“Show me.” You whispered.
Andrew smirked at your boldness. He slowly brushed the back of his fingers across your cheek, then threaded them into your hair, guiding your face toward his.
Finally kissing you.
It was so firm, slow, sensual. It was the result of days building this tension up. Finally exploding. Finally concetre and not just a thought before going to bed. His other hand squeezed your waist before he quickly, lifted you by your tight, sitting you in the kitchen’s counter. Your hands were exploring every part of him you could reach, passing throught his hair, shoulders, chest…
“You’re so beautiful.” He murmurred against your lips just when his hand found your breast, squeezing it, making you moan. “I swear i’m going to make you feel good.”
Andrew lifted you in his arms, starting to walk towards his bedroom and the only thought in your mind when he placed you in his bed was : Andrew is a man of his word.
XxXxXxXxXxX
“You’re literally glowing.” Tom said suspicious when he finally found you drinking coffee in the set cafeteria.
You had literally just passed the best night you ever had, with Andrew in his house. He indeed kept his promise. Three times.
You slept in his place, but unfortunately he needed to work early in the morning and you decided to go with him directly to the studios. Althought he offered you to stay sleeping there as long as you wanted. Or even drop you at Tom’s. But you just got changed in Tom’s trailer with a pair of sweatshirts it was forgotten there and you were ready to start the day.
“Morning to you too little brother.” You said grumpy taking a sip.
“Don’t ‘little brother’ me, (Y/N).” Tom said ironically, taking a coffee to him as well, sitting beside you. “Care to explain why you didn’t come home last night?”
“As far as I’m concerned, i am the oldest.” You answered making him roll his eyes. “I was with Z, you know that.”
“And i know you since the day i was born, sis.” Tom said. “I can perfectly tell when you’re both lying to me.”
You sighed, defeated, finally staring at him. You knew he wasn’t going to back down from this.
“Ok, I-…”
“You had sex!” Tom cut you opening his mouth in disbelieve. Now, he looked like he was having rather fun with your embarrassment. “Oh my God, you had sex.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t had to.” Tom chuckled leaning his back in the chair, still in shock. “You’re glowing.”
“Tom…” You began hearing him laughing. Suddenly he gasped even harder, looking at you with wide eyes.
“I can bet it was Andrew!” He guessed. “I’m not dumb (Y/N), I noticed him wandering around you whenever he had a chance.”
“Will you let me tell you?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m sorry, go on.” Tom said but couldn’t help shaking his leg in excitement and hold a little smile in the corner of his lips.
“Fine. Yes, ok… Andrew asked me out on a date and I… ending up sleeping at his place.”
“This is such great news.” Tom said opening a wide smile squeezing your hand. You chuckled at his excitement, but in reality you knew how much Tom appreciate his Spider Man partners and he, above all brothers, was always the one trying to set you up. “I’m just… he is such a great guy for you! And he would be lucky to have you as well, sis.”
“It’s nothing serious ok? No need to be so hyped up about this.”
“No, yeah, yeah, I know.” Tom said finally assuming a more serious posture. “Are you seeing him again?”
“I don’t know, it’s literally been thirty minutes we arrived here.” You said struggling althought this briefly crossed your mind. He didn’t look the kind of guy of ghosting you after all of that, but who knows.
“Oh man… Harry and Sam are going to get so jealous.” Tom laughed making you chuckle and roll your eyes, knowing so damn well that the Twins were the most protectives over you. “I wish you would have told me this before.”
“Tom, i just needed to see if this… was something before I discussed with you.” You explained even if you knew he wasn’t mad.
“I know.” Tom replied with a smile. “I’m happy that coming here gave you guys an opportunity of meeting.”
“To be honest, i am to.” You said scrunhing your nose, blusing, thinking about the night you just had. “It was amazing…”
“Oh, ok!” Tom said, clapping his hands and getting up from his seat. “Spare me the details. You’re still my sister.”
“Love you, bug.” You said sincerely, making your brother’s eyes go soft. Meeting Andrew in those last weeks, had been a wonderful surprise, but being able to have these moments with your brother, when you both had already moved out of your parents… seeing your relantionship never changer one bit, it just warmed your heart.
“Love you.” Tom replied giving you a long kiss on the forehead. “I have to go to my scene now. It’s going to be so weird with Andrew : Hey mate, how you doing? Oh trouble sleeping last night? You sure it had nothing to do with you banging my sister?’ “
“Thomas!” You shouted angrily, throwing a crumpled napkin in his direction, as he ran away laughing.
You shook your head in denial, a smile still hanging on your lips, thinking about everything that had happened. Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a notification on your phone :
“Zendaya has being staring at me weirdly since we started filming. Must I prepare for your brother’s reactions?”
You laughed at Andrew’s message, assuming that if Zendaya already knew, Tom would be the next to find out. Which was quickly followed by another one:
“By the way, been wanting to tell you again how amazing last night was. Can’t stop thinking about it. Hoping i will see you soon.”
How do we feel about a 1,342 to 2,000-ish word TASM Peter Parker fanfic? (I've already started writing it heh) but it's got, some angst, fluff and smut bc why not.
You know the trope where it's like spiderman us bad with relationships that's this but 4 years now in the making and you are fed up with it.
tasm!Peter x gf reader (I’d put this after The First Time, but not by much. They’re still shy and adorable around each other.)
Fluff, spice, nudity… MDNI is probably for the best
Word count: 1.4k
A/N: Well, this got spicier than I anticipated!! 👀 It’s still pretty fluffy and wholesome, though. 🩷
You surprise Peter with a bath after his Spider-man duties… but what if he wants you to join him?
You dipped your hand into the water. Good, it was still pretty hot. It was hard to know when exactly Peter would be home—too bad Spider-Man wasn’t an hourly position! Just to be on the safe side, you’d set an alarm for 3:30, so you could get up and start prepping this little surprise. Peter’s Spider-Man duties had been really hard on him this week. He was bloodied and sore every time he came home, and the emotional grind of trying—and sometimes failing—to save people was clearly wearing on him. He always took such good care of you that you wanted to do the same for him. As you finished adding epsom salts and a few drops of lavender oil to the bath, you heard the familiar rattle of your bedroom window. You rushed back just in time to catch him gingerly pulling himself through the window. He stopped, startled, when he saw you standing in the doorway instead of sleeping, as you normally would be.
“Hey. Is everything okay? Are you okay?”
You smiled. It did feel nice to always be someone’s top priority. “Everything’s fine. I’m great.”
He eyed you suspiciously. “It’s 5:04 AM—it’s impossible to be both ‘awake’ and ‘great.’”
“Well, I’m great because you’re here now. And… because I have something for you.”
“You do?”
“Yes. I’m sure you’re exhausted, so I’m not going to keep you up long. But I think this will feel nice after the night—and week—you’ve had.” You held out your hand to him. “You don’t have to do anything but trust me.”
“Okay…” he said, dropping his backpack and crossing the room to take your hand. You led him down the hall to the candlelit bathroom.
“Wait, what is this?” He turned to you with a look of both confusion and appreciation. “Is this for us?”
You smiled. “It’s for you. I just wanted to help you clean up and relax a little bit before bed… if that’s okay.”
His eye glistened with love, though he still looked a bit confused. “You got up and did all this for me?"
"Well... yeah."
He leaned over and kissed you on the cheek. "I… I don’t know what to say."
You smiled. That was enough.
Since it was always a bit of a struggle to get into and out of the Spider-Man suit, you helped him, both of you laughing. But when you reached for his bottoms, purely for logistical purposes, of course, he covered your hand with his and laughed nervously.
“Oh, sorry! I was just trying to help, but I don’t have to.” You spun around so your back was to him now. “I will just turn away and leave this part to you.”
He gave another nervous laugh, now combined with a sigh. ”It’s just that… I just want you to know that any, uh, lack of reaction on my part is not a reflection on you. My body is about to shut down from exhaustion.”
You smiled at the bathroom wall. “That’s fine, because this is not supposed to be about sex…. It’s about me taking care of you.”
“I mean, I am more than happy for it to be about sex… just, like, maybe after a nap?”
You laughed. “I’m sure we can work something out. You finish changing, I’ll heat up the water a little bit.” You were careful not to look at him, not because you didn’t want to (regardless of “reaction”), but because you knew what it was like to feel deeply self-conscious in your body. “Okay, the water’s nice and warm. Go ahead, get in.”
You could hear him step into the water. “Why does it smell so good? What sort of magic did you work?”
“Is okay if I look now?”
He laughed softly. “Yes. I never said you had to turn around.”
You smiled at him and knelt next to the tub, giggling. “As for the magic… I used very magical things called ‘epsom salts’ and ‘essential oils’.” He chuckled (“Aha.”) as you wet a washcloth and lathered it up with soap. You started gently washing off his arms as he sank deeper into the tub, his eyes closing. You were starting to wonder if he’d dozed off when he murmured, “The only thing that would make this better is you.”
You smiled, wringing out the washcloth. “I’m right here.”
He rolled his eyes as you gently started dabbing at his dirt-streaked face. “No,” he whispered, his face inches from yours. “Like, you in here with me.”
You shivered. It’s not like it wasn’t a tantalizing offer. But: “How on earth would we fit in there together? Besides, this is supposed to be about you!”
He pulled lightly on your arm.
“Peter!
“Okay, but what I want is to share this with you. So, technically, it’s still all about me.“
You smirked at him. “Your loopholes are not welcome here.”
You were about to move away when he kissed you, slow and deep. It felt wonderful but was also a bit startling, and you dropped the washcloth, splashing you both.
“Ah! I’m sorry!”
“It’s fine,” he said, with a soft laugh. “Come on.” He held your hand and interlaced your fingers under the water. “I want to be with you. More than this. Maybe not sex, but more than just… this—you out there and me in here.”
You could feel heat creeping up your neck and across your cheeks.
“Peter, are you sure?”
He leaned over the edge of the tub and kissed you deeply again. “Yes.”
You sighed and muttered, “You’re really ruining my whole plan here” as you started to pull off your shirt. He reached over and helped you, apologizing for his wet hands, which left dribbles of water on your bare torso. Then he did a double-take when he realized that you had nothing on underneath. He immediately went wide-eyed and looked away, which you found pretty adorable.
“I’m sorry! I thought you’d have, like, a bra on or something. I didn’t mean to just strip you naked like that.”
You shook your head with a smile and stood up to finish undressing. “I’m wearing pajamas! Who wears a bra to bed?” There you were, naked. Now it was your turn to feel self-conscious, even though he was still staring at the wall.
“I don't know what to do. Is it okay to look?”
Your heart was beating faster. “I never said you couldn’t.”
He turned back and a little smile began to appear as he took in your body. “So gorgeous,” he murmured holding out his hand to help you step into the tub. The warm water swirled around your calves, and you made a little squeak as you tried to sit down without sending water over the sides. You also couldn’t help but notice increased physical interest on his part, which always made you feel like the sexiest girl alive. Although you were careful to act natural, of course.
“Hey, is the water warm enough for you? I’m not sure if it’s warm enough. Do you want it warmer? More hot water?“
“I don’t care,” he said, pressing a hand against your thigh under the water. “You’re here now. Can we get any closer?”
Carefully, so as to not slosh water out of the tub, the two of you inched closer together until you were able to hold each other. Skin-to-skin contact in the warm water felt pretty incredible.
You leaned your head on his shoulder. “These epsom salts are not bad. Guess I make a decent bath.”
He smiled drowsily at you. “Yeah, you do. This feels like heaven right now. It’s a pretty nice change from the hell that's out there."
You kissed his cheek and smiled shyly at the water.
“Hey.” He gently titled your chin upward so you had to make eye contact with him. “Thank you. For getting up in the middle of the night, for caring and wanting to do all this… How did I get so lucky?”
“Oh, I don’t know…” you said coyly. “Because I know you would do it for me. I mean, it’s pretty much the bath version of you holding me and stroking my hair and telling me everything is going to be okay when I’m anxiety-crying.”
“It kills me, you know. When you’re upset like that. I wish holding you just tight enough or just the right way would make it all go away.”
“Me too. But no matter how you hold me, it always helps.”
He gently drew you in closer to his chest so you two were basically snuggling in the warm water now. “Yeah, for me too.”
Could I get nachos for here, with french fries and a milkshake pretty please??
Order #20
Now Serving!
Main Course: Andrew Garfield x FemReader
Ingredients: 18+, MDNI, smut, friends to lovers, language, dirty talk, mentions of alcohol, no use of protection, no use of y/n.
Meal: Andrew smut, friends to lovers, with rough sex.
Total: $15.78 = 1.5k words
Menu - Masterlist
Your eyes are glued to the pavement in front of you, heels clicking against the stone with each step, careful to not make a mistake. Despite your focus your stride ends up too wide and the heel betrays you, ankle crumpling under the misstep and a large giggle bursting past your lips.
“Woah, easy there hot shot,” the cool tone of your best friend invades your senses, long arms reaching out to steady you. He’s recovered your mistake before any damage happens to your joints and you can only look up and grin into those dough brown eyes.
“Thanks Andy,” you tell him, eyes so fond he can’t help but chuckle at your tipsyness as well. It had been your idea not to hail a cab back to your hotel, instead take the three block walk in stiletto heels after a night of drinking with friends.
Andrew had some press to attend and as usual you were happy to tag along, especially when he informed you old pals would be in town as well. None of this was out of the ordinary, in fact it was the very thing you lived for, and you couldn't imagine a life without the man beside you. No matter how famous he got. You had loved him before the rest of the world did.
“This is why I suggested a cab, less chance of you breaking your neck,” he mutters, adjusting you so he can wrap a long arm around your waist and keep you in step with him. You roll your eyes, aware that he thinks you’re drunk but in fact the alcohol has only relaxed you, just enough to seep into your bones, and mellow you out. The only side effect being a case of the giggles and you’d remember this very moment perfectly tomorrow.
“I’m fine, I just got ahead of myself. Stop worrying,” you tell him, a hand reaching to pat his cheek, and he leans away from you, the doorman of the hotel holding the door open to you both.
You both ride the elevator up to the room in a comfortable silence, you’re excited to abandon this dress, and the heels that almost victimized you. Andrew of course has the key card and you both enter the suite, almost too much space for you and the boy who have shared a hundred beds before.
Yet you mosey to your room, hands already reaching for the zipper. When unsuccessful you reach for the straps on your heels instead, kicking them off and losing a few extra inches in height. Starting for the zipper again you realize there is no hope, huffing you pop open the door and stare across the small living space at Andrews.
“Andyyy, I need help,” you draw in a whine, not common for your normal independent self. His door swings open only a second after, staring at you across the way, only in his dress pants now. “The zipper on my dress, I can’t reach.”
You don’t need to say anymore as he starts towards you, and you slink into the room, leaving the door open for him to follow behind. Once his tall frame is in the doorway you turn and collect your hair, lifting it with one hand so he can reach.
“Sometimes I wonder how you make it without me,” he mutters, stepping into the room, and you chuckle as his long fingers graze your shoulder blades in the direction of the zipper.
“Had you not been here I probably would’ve slept with it on, or pulled it over my head and risk ruining it,” you tell him, and Andrew drags the zipper down to reveal more and more bare back, the zipper going so deep it reveals the small triangle of your black thong to him and his throat dries.
“Well I’m happy to take your dress off anytime,” he says and it’s meant to be a joke but something in the air shifts. What you don’t expect is the small clench between your thighs, becoming hyper aware of your bareness and his own. When you turn to face him his eyes are dark, shadowed by what you can only decipher as lust, and the small part of you that always wondered takes the forefront of your mind.
Neither of you speak and in a moment of confidence you lower your arms and let the dress slink off your form, breasts on full display, nipples pinched, and every part of you begging to be touched by him. You didn’t want your gentle friend Andrew. You wanted him to take you in every way a lover does in any way he wants.
“Are you sure you’re not just drunk?” he clarifies, wanting to make sure your clear desire wasn’t the alcohol talking. After so many years of loving you he would never recover if this boiled down to just one drunken night.
“No, in fact I wouldn’t mind another shot just in case you deny me,” you tell him with a soft laugh and he joins you, nervously stretching out his hands.
“I could never deny you,” he says and you smile at him sheepishly, taking a step closer, and waiting for him to finally just do something.
“Then would you please kiss me already,” you urge and in a split second he has you wrapped in his arms, bare chests pressing together, and mouths hot against each other. You kiss him like your life depends on it, and he guides you towards the bed, not wasting another minute now that he finally has this chance.
Once on the mattress your hands reach for the button of his trousers, tugging at them until the button finally pops and you can drag down the zipper just as he had with your dress. You're both lost in each other, mouths kissing, and tasting every inch of each other, and you grow wetter by the second.
“I can't believe this is real,” he mutters against your lips and you grin as your hand slips into his pants, palm ghosting over his length, The appendage begging to spring free and straining against his boxers.
“Take these off,” you tell him, pushing at the fabric and he doesn't hesitate to pull back, hands shoving the pants and boxers down in one swoop, his length springing free–aching to be touched. He moves to crawl back over you, mouth pressing languid kisses up your stomach, across your sternum, straying to your breasts, and you clench around nothing at the thought of him being inside of you.
“Protection?” he asks and you shake your head, pulling him close, and shivering when you feel his cock graze the inside of your leg.
“Birth control,” you explain and he grins, mouth meeting your own again as his hand slides down to your panties. He groans into your mouth when he discovers they're soaked through and you whine as he starts to circle your clit through the fabric.
“God, you’re so wet for me,” he says breathily, eyes dark with lust and your hand reaches down and wraps around his cock, pumping it softly in your palm.
“Been dreaming about taking your cock for so long,” you tell him, guiding him towards your entrance and he closes his eyes tightly, like he’s trying to maintain some sort of control.
His hand reaches to replace your own, pressing himself into you, dragging his tip through your folds and collecting the wetness. You’re a whining mess, hips searching for any sort of friction, and finally he relieves you, slowly pushing in as he stretches you out. He’s as big as you had imagined, years of changing in the same room and grey sweatpants that left little to the imagination, but having it in you was better than anything you could’ve ever imagined.
“Jesus, you’re so tight.” he groans, hips finding a rhythm as he rocks into you. He’s a perfect fit and you can’t get enough of him, pulling him down to kiss you, his hands searching for your breasts, and kneading the flesh. It’s years of pent up desire and all of it felt too good.
“I won’t last long,” you admit and his hips stutter at the confession, his own finish building up because this was better than anything he could’ve ever imagined.
“Why did it take us so long to do this?” he asks no one in particular and you chuckle but the sound gets cut off by his fingers finding your clit again. He pumps into you relentlessly, fingers rubbing quick circles, and your body begins to stiffen as your orgasm reaches the edge.
“Shit, I’m cumming,” you tell him and this starts his own finish, the two of you shaking, and squeezing yourself so close together you’re not sure where he ends and you begin. It’s perfect and everything you ever wanted.
“Well, that just happened,” he says, body heavy on top of your own and you both laugh together, the night taking a turn that neither of you expected. A sudden calmness washes over you as you realize how long you had waited for this moment.
“I’m glad it did,” you tell him and he grins back at you, hand reaching to brush some hair from your face. A look of adoration all over his face. You know at this moment nothing will ever be the same again but you have never been more content.
