Hii! Can I request some fluff with Peter? Maybe something where he’s protective of reader? I loveee your work x
₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ tasm!peter parker x reader ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊
peter wants to keep you warm
a/n: baby blurb!!! thank you for requesting♡♡
“Pete, this is ridiculous.”
You’re surprised he can even understand you with how much your voice is muffled, a fluffy scarf completely covering the bottom half of your face. Must be that super-spider hearing he has. “You’ll thank me later, babe, when you aren’t miserable with a cold.” He doesn’t try to hide the small smile adorning his lips. He ducks in to peck the corner of your eye, hoping to mollify your annoyance.
It’s been a cold week in Queens, the daily temperatures barely reaching 20ºF. Your boyfriend, naturally, has adapted the role of mother hen, never letting you step outside unless covered head-to-toe in winter gear. You pretend to be annoyed, mostly, but it’s nice to have someone doting on you. Especially him, with his soft eyes and hair and lips. Anyway, it makes him happy, so you let him dote.
“Wouldn’t you take care of me, if I got sick?” You watch a divot appear between his brows as he zips up your jacket.
He gives you a look. “Duh. What kind of boyfriend do you think I am?” Finished with your zipper, he gives your shoulder a pat. “Do you think you’ll be warm enough?” he asks, adorning his own jacket and gloves.
You’ve already started to sweat just from standing in the entryway. You huff, trying to tug the scarf down to tuck it beneath your chin. “I think I’m gonna get heatstroke if we don’t leave soon.”
He grins, tugging a hat over his mop of hair. He helps you, hand grasping the side of your jaw to keep the scarf in place. “You’re the one who wanted donuts. You knew the price.”
It takes a moment for you to answer, his gloved thumb sweeping along the line of your jaw. You nudge your forehead with his. “Let’s go, Pete, before it gets too busy.”
He leans down and kisses your brow, then your temple, then your cheek, like he’s making a map of all the places you like to be kissed. Your body heat now has nothing to do with your clothes, and everything to do with him.
“Pete,” you groan, dragging it out.
“Okay, okay,” he laughs, pulling your scarf back up. He reaches for the door handle with one hand and holds your hand with the other. You’re not the one with super-spider hearing, but you think you hear him mutter, “Can’t even make sure my girl is warm enough without getting yelled at.”
peter parker x reader - wattpad (more unposted fics are located here) - requests closed as of august 2021 - fics by other authors that I love
updated jan 30 2022
💋 - suggestive / 🌻 - personal favorite / ✨ - soulmate au / 🌧 - mostly angst / 💕 - mostly fluff / ⚡️ - super hero or super powered reader
one shots:
sweatshirt - you and peter broke up a long time ago, but something about seeing you in his old sweatshirt makes him act impulsively
stood up 💋⚡️- you and peter get on each others nerves - funnily enough you would not have expected a date-gone-wrong to be the start of fixing your relationship
fake it 🌻💕⚡️- peter comes up with the brilliant idea of you both fake dating each other as a way to get the team to back off on the couple comments
spider-man cookies and napkin notes 💕- peter has finally been bullied (lovingly, of course) by his friends into asking out the cute barista, but things go a little wrong. or maybe a little right
reward system 💋- sometimes you feel a little behind everyone else, but peter makes sure to remind you that you’re not as alone as you think you are
boys and girls - based on the song “boys and girls” by james tw
second chances 🌧- you meet your unrequited high school crush/best friend years later at a college frat party of all places - things go about as well as expected
good looking 🌻💕- spider-man landed on your balcony once and the rest is history (said every peter fic ever)
back to december 🌧- you meet peter in december, and his sad eyes and shy personality pull you in (no way home spoilers)
just the two of us 💕💋 - peter is pretty much the only thing keeping you sane during your time in grad school
series:
long distance - you drop the bomb to your boyfriend peter that you’re moving across the country
one - two - three [complete]
revelations 🌻✨🌧⚡️- peter hates the idea of soulmates. but meeting your soulmate is inevitable, and it’s not always so easy to avoid what the universe wants to happen
series masterlist
begin again 🌧 - you meet peter at his lowest - but maybe meeting you is just what he needed
one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight [complete]
far from love ⚡️- your life is finally starting to get back to normal after everyone (yourself included) returns from the snap. the last thing you need is to get bitten by a radioactive spider
one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight - nine - ten [current]
sunburn ✨🌧- you’ve dreamt about meeting your soulmate forever - but you didn’t expect it to be a rejection
one - two - three - four - five - six - seven [complete]
all these years - your friends constantly bug you about not being with peter anymore, even though you had convinced yourself you moved on. but even you could admit that the lines between being “just friends” again and dating had been crossed a long time ago
one - two - three - four - five [complete]
fine line 🌧⚡️- you and spider-man are great partners, friends, maybe even more - but you and peter absolutely despite each other. there’s only so much time left before one of you has to realize who the other really is
one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight [complete]
fine line (alternative) 🌧⚡️ - an alternative ending to the fine line series (read summary of the first part to know what’s different, make sure you read all of fine line first!)
four - five - six - seven [complete]
accident 💕⚡️- spider-man is strict on keeping both of your identities a secret, even from each other, but especially from anyone else. in order to save your friend’s life, though, you have to reveal your identity
one - two [complete]
all I ask 🌻✨🌧⚡️- even a criminal like you has always looked forward to meeting your soulmate and feeling the click everyone talks about - but even when it’s with the boy you always wanted it to be with, there are still barriers in your way. namely, how peter seems to hate your alter ego more than anyone you’ve met
summary: Y/N and Peter are at a high school house party. They want to be together but can they? (sorry i suck at summary)
warning: underage drinking
words: 1.7k
a/n: this is my first peter parker fic so be kind. I was listening to ‘girl at home’ by taylor swift. I did not proof read it. also asks are open. (gif not mine)
masterlist
//don’t look at me, you’ve got a girl at home and everybody knows that//
Y/N had her hands intertwined with Brad’s as he rang the bell to a grand looking house. Music was leaking out of the walls. Flash opened the door and took Brad in for a hug. He dropped her hand to hug Flash back. “I’m so glad you could make it” Flash exclaimed.
“These are for you”, Y/N handed Flash a pack of six beer cans she was holding in her left hand.
“Thanks, Y/N”, Flash gave her a charming smile and let them in.
The house was packed with drunk and horny teenagers. Every corner was occupied by a pair, sloppily shoving their tongues down each other’s throat. Y/N scrunched her nose to the unsanitary site.
This was Y/N’s and Brad’s second date only. They had only gone out once before, after he came back from the Europe trip. The first time they met up, he only talked about how cool and amazing MJ is. She could sense that he was a bit hurt after the girl he liked a lot got together with a guy who he thought was very annoying. Y/N disagreed with that last statement.
Ever since she was a little kid she liked Peter. They were neighbours throughout middle school. But then Peter shifted five blocks away and they somewhat lost touch. Y/N didn’t go the Europe trip because there was still some instability in her home life after the blip. She had heard Peter and MJ got together. She was happy for him, really, or she convinced herself to be.
Brad and Y/N walked into the kitchen to get themselves a drink. Drake was playing on top volume.
“What do you wanna drink?” Brad who was walking ahead of Y/N turned his body to face her.
“Beer would be fine”, she replied with a smile. He nodded and walked ahead.
Someone tapped Y/N’s shoulder, she turned around to see it was, dropping Brad’s hand.
“Hey Ned” she hugged the teenager wearing an oversized Star Wars t-shirt.
“Hey Y/N, I haven’t seen you in sooo long”, he was excited to see her after almost a month.
“That is true, last I met you was at Betty’s birthday. You and Peter really stole the show with your amazing duet to ‘Shallow’. On that topic, where is he?” Y/N scanned the room behind Ned.
“He is here, somewhere”, the washroom next to her opened, “there he is.” Peter in a grey flannel came out and joined Ned. “Hey, Y/N”, he looked her in the eye. Before she could reply, Brad joined her.
“There you go babe”, he handed her a red plastic cup filled with beer, breaking the lock between Peter and Y/N eyes.
“We came here together”, Y/N said to ease Peter’s puzzled expression. His mouth formed an ‘o’ shape and he nodded.
“MJ didn’t come?” she asked. Before Peter could reply, Ned went on explaining how she had to babysit her aunt’s cat so she couldn’t make it.
“Come, I want you to meet some people”, Brad grabbed her hand and took her towards the sea of people dancing under the colour changing lights. Y/N looked back at Peter who was already looking at her as she was walking away.
After that, every time Y/N looked around her eyes would lock with Peter’s who had already been looking at her and had no shame to hide it. Every step she took she could feel his hot gaze following her.
The night carried on and Brad only got progressively drunk. He had a drink in his hand at all time. Maybe he was out of it but at one point, when they were making out, he accidentally called her MJ. She opened her eyes just to see Peter starring at Brad and her.
“I think we should stop, you’re drunk”, she said to Brad who was still an inch away from her.
“No I’m not” he leaned in to kiss her. She tried to step back but there was a wall behind her. “Well, I am”, an attempt to make him back away.
Out of somewhere Peter came next to them. “Hey, back off. She asked you to stop”, he placed his palm on his chest to push him away from her.
He looked down at Peter with annoyance. “Aren’t you happy with your girl that you’re here to steal my girl? Again.”
“MJ was never yours to steal” he had a stern face.
“Whatever dickwad” Brad walked away and passed out on a sofa in the living room.
“Are you fine?” Peter tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear that was covering her right eye. Y/N nodded looking at her feet, not wanting to meet his eyes.
“Do you want to dance?” Peter asked.
It was a fine proposition if she wouldn’t have noticed him constantly starring at her with something in his eye that she didn’t quite understand yet. She felt a responsibility to not return any advances he offered, he had MJ waiting for her at home. But she couldn’t help herself anyway.
“Sure”, she replied after careful consideration that she evidently ignored.
He grabbed her hand and led her towards the dance floor. America’s Top Rap music was mixed with laughter and hormones. She convinced herself that they were dancing just as friends. But Peter just kept getting closer and closer, with every beat, blurring the line between friends and…
She didn’t stop him from getting closer. Why would she? He was all she wanted ever since she first moved into the apartment adjacent to his, in middle school. Suddenly, Peter stopped dancing making her snap out of her trail of thought.
His hand started gliding her arms up to her shoulders. She tilted her head to the right, capturing his hand between her cheek and shoulder. She closed her eyes and breathed in the pheromones. He cupped her chin and leaned in.
Her stomach was in knots but there were butterflies too. She really wanted him, right here, right now but she couldn’t push the feeling of betraying the code of sisterhood, aside. Kissing him would mean hurting MJ.
Before she could say anything their lips crashed. He felt warm, like home. But the home was made of twigs and one misstep would cause its downfall.
He slid his tongue into her mouth, making her slightly moan. They shared intimacy in between hundreds of drunk fellows. They themselves intoxicated too. It was right and it was wrong.
Guilt finally got in the front seat. “What about MJ?” she broke off the kiss. He kissed her neck, she tighten her grip in his hair. “Peter?” she half moaned, half demanded for an answer.
“Let’s not think about her right now” he stated, travelling on wet kisses to her chest.
She gripped his hand and dragged him to a quiet, dark corner. “This is so much better, baby” he pushed her to the wall, knowing exactly what she liked.
This wasn’t their first kiss. When they were in their freshmen year, peter would see Y/N making out with guys against her locker in the school hallway, all the time. He hadn’t kissed anyone at that time but he really wanted to. One stupid night he texted her about his want to kiss someone, just for experience he said.
He always wondered what her mouth would taste like. He always wondered what it would feel like when she would call his name, out of breath. He always wondered what would happen if they ever were to be together.
So, with curiosity and needs, he asked her to be her first kissed and she agreed. They met in a dark alley behind Peter’s building. She knew exactly what she wanted and he knew exactly how much in love he was.
Unfortunately, things got awkward between them and they started distancing from each other. Both thought that the other didn’t like them at all so they never spoke up about their feelings and grew apart.
There was still all that old passion and love left in their heart for each other. Both of them could feel it in the moment.
Peter pined her hands above her head, giving him space to work her up. Every ‘oh’ that left her mouth was owned by him.
The feeling of delinquency was knocking her door but her hospitality was reserved for Peter’s touch. It kept knocking until it broke down the flood gate and swept her conscious.
“Aren’t you with MJ?” she pushed him back with a kiss.
“I don’t want her. I need you” their foreheads were touching, he was delicately rubbing her cheeks with his thumb. His eyes were busy finding her shy eyes.
“Don’t look at me like that”
“Like what?” he knew exactly what she was talking about.
“Like you would fight everyone in the room to be close to me. You have been giving me those eyes all night.”
A grin covered his face. “Darling, I did fight someone to be close to you”
“That’s what I’m saying, you shouldn’t. You have a girl at home waiting for you”
He said nothing. His smiling eyes kept moving from her lips to her eyes.
“I think you should call a cab and go to her. We will consider this lesson learned. I don’t want to be a home wrecker” she pushed him aside and started walking towards the door.
“Wait”, he clutched her wrist. She turned around, “what?”
“What if I tell you there is no one waiting up for me”
“What do you mean?” she walked closer to him.
“MJ and I broke up”, Peter confessed.
“Why didn’t you tell me before?” she let out a sigh of relief in her head.
“I guess, I-I liked the thrill.” She was in Peter’s arms now.
Y/N chuckled. “Well then I hope you like this too”, she leaned in and kissed Peter understanding perfectly what this might lead to.
also if you’re gonna leave hate on a smut post make sure you at least have your age in your bio so i can know to double block you leaving hate while get you blocked and not having your age in your bio is a quicker run to the block button :) out of pure bitterness i will be posting my very “cringey” smut soon and i hope y’all love it <3 tell me if y’all want mob peter or normal petey
Summary: Out of all the things you could have guessed might happen at Flash’s party, this wasn’t one of them.
Word Count: 3749
A/N: hey uhhhhhhh did I mention that I’m a fucking sucker for Peter and Flash becoming weird vaguely confusing bros by the time senior year rolls around bc i am. anyway have fun with this Almost Spicy fic cause ya bitch was in the mood to write character interactions and General Nonsense
You had told Peter that something was going to happen at the party. No matter what you did, you couldn’t talk yourself out of the feeling that something– though you didn’t know what– would occur. Things never really go the way you’d expect when you’re with Peter, after all. Surprises follow him wherever he goes, as you’ve learned these past few years, and to attempt to expect any one outcome is silly.
To be honest, you’ve never really truly gotten used to that.
It’s just beginning to become dark and chilly outside when Peter’s old beater pulls up to the curb outside Flash Thompson’s house. Colored lights flash through the windows and the sound of music blares out the open front door. When you climb out of the passenger seat, Flash’s voice calls through the speakers, riling up the party crowd.
“This is giving me a bad feeling,” you sigh, somewhat nervously, as you adjust your skirt and tug the front of your blouse down a bit.
Figures you’ve worn the one that inches up over your chest weird. Damn it. You should just go home.
The door to the back seat slams shut, the hinges squeaking in protest. “Come on, Ned, you’re gonna take the door off,” Peter scolds lightly, making his way around to stand next to you, “This thing’s older than you.”
“Sorry, car,” Ned says quickly, before throwing his arm around your shoulders, “Anyway, you say that every time. I think it’ll be fun.”
“I guess,” you submit, and deliver a pat to his back, “I know Flash has really toned the attitude down since sophomore year, but I’ll never get used to showing up to these things.”
Ned drops his arm and starts heading up the walkway. Again, Flash’s voice rings out with a Make some noise, Midtown Tech!, followed by a blaring air horn. You stifle a laugh. The sound effect has always been hilarious and always will be. Of all his DJ-ing habits, it’s the only one you’ve never completely hated. It eases some of your tension.
Objectively, you know it’ll be fine. You, Peter, and Ned have gone to these before and enjoyed yourselves. It’s really just a matter of finding a nice spot with low traffic and a good line of sight for the spectacle. Maybe a bowl of chex mix. You’re simple folks.
But even so, you’ve got the feeling that something is going to happen tonight. You can’t tell if it’ll be good or bad. The anticipation is uncomfortable. You adjust you shirt again.
God damn it.
You catch Peter’s line of sight following your hands as you attempt to casually yank your shirt back into place by the hem that’s supposed to be just below your chest. It’s a bit awkward. You catch his eye, and he blushes, looking apologetic. You don’t blame him, because you know you look silly. Calling him out on it seems equally silly because of it.
He shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders without mentioning the exchange.
“Let’s go before we lose Ned,” he suggests, and leads you down the pathway to the porch.
Your friend has already made it inside. There is a group of people gathered in the entryway, looking up the stairway. You can see a dude from the soccer team crammed inside a plastic bin on the top step.
“They’re gonna push him down, I think,” Ned supplies, somewhat needlessly, when Peter taps his shoulder to let him know you’ve caught up.
“Boy, I hope,” you respond, “I don’t need to be a witness, though.”
“Onward then,” says Peter, amusedly.
As you move on into the large living room, a series of bangs and hollering comes from behind.
“Nice,” Ned says, appreciatively, as he continues to watch while walking away.
Flash has set up his equipment across the room on a raised platform in front of the fireplace. Like every other time you see it, you wonder what the actual purpose of that landing is, besides being a stage for Flash’s moderately sick beats to be thrown six times a year. He’s bent over a set of turntables, one hand holding his headphones in place as he rocks in place. After a moment, he looks up to address the crowd.
He sees that your group has arrived, and it’s not hard to guess what’s coming.
“Hey, Penis Parker!” He shouts, slamming the air horn button a few times, and adding a booing sound effect for good measure.
Peter smiles and waves good-naturedly. The old jokes don’t quite have the effect that they used to, nor are they intended to. Flash waves back and looks down to his table again. He announces that the next tune is for the new arrivals, and transitions into an obnoxious, yet highly amusing and catchy song that had been frequented by the academic team as of late.
So far, so good.
With no small amount of luck, you discover a loveseat and an armchair that are free from partygoers and are quick to snatch them up for yourselves. Ned throws himself into the chair and you take it upon yourself to sprawl across the sofa. Peter ducks into the crowd and toward the direction of the kitchen in order to secure snacks to hold the group over.
The likelihood that you’ll leave this spot is minimal, aside from maybe a dance or two once goaded into it by a jeering crowd, spurned on by the host. The three of you enjoy parties best when approaching them more casually.
Peter reappears several minutes later with two bowls of salty snacks and three drinks balanced in his arms. Unexpectedly, he also brings with him another person. MJ follows closely behind, allowing him to do the work of pushing through the dancers, and greets you and Ned.
“I found her searching the kitchen cabinets,” Peter explains, arranging the snacks on the coffee table and taking his designated spot to your left.
“That’s not weird at all,” Ned responds, taking a drink from his red plastic cup.
Michelle shifts the contents of the table so that she can sit on it. “I’ll keep these oreos to myself then, Ned.”
“I think you’re perfectly valid,” you grin, and are awarded with a cookie, “Everyone knows that the good shit doesn’t get offered until the after party.”
It’s still innately bizarre that you’ve even attended these after parties, even a year after you’ve entered this perpetually weird snarky-friendship circle with Flash, but that’s beside the point.
“If anyone asks, we didn’t take them,” she asserts.
Peter laughs and takes a handful of chex mix from the nearest bowl. “You can’t coerce me into dishonesty,” he says.
As he speaks, he selects a rye chip from his bounty and holds it in front of your face. You eat it immediately, without question. He loves the rye chips, but knows that they’re your favorite.
“Yeah she can,” echoes all three of you, and Peter shoots you a playful look of betrayal.
With the addition of MJ, it’s decently easy to drift through conversations despite being in the center of a rowdy and distracting house. Drifters join the conversation for short periods of time before being dragged back to the main excitement. Even Flash, taking a break from his DJ-ing, stops by.
“Those are for the after party,” he says, sounding entirely unsurprised as he points to the pack of oreos in Michelle’s lap.
She squints back at him. “What is?”
“Alright, cool, I hate you all,” he responds, sounding way too chill for such a statement.
He claps his palm against Peter’s in a friendly gesture before walking off.
“See you there!” Ned calls to his back.
Flash has already disappeared into the crowd, but his middle finger appears above everyone’s heads.
“Still weird,” you feel compelled to point out.
“Yep,” Peter agrees, throwing his arm back around your shoulders, “Still weird. Do you think he’d be like this if he didn’t know I was Spider-Man?”
“Absolutely fucking not. Not at all,” Michelle says without a second of thought.
She’s probably right.
Of course, Ned hadn’t been bluffing about going to the after party. Technically it’s an attend-with-invitation type of thing, but it’s a bit of an uncommunicated agreement that your group is invited nowadays. The bulk of the party filters out as it gets late, leaving much of the academic team and a smattering of other friends of Flash.
You figure that you know what to expect. A continuation of what your group does during the actual party, except now all the attendees are gathered in a loose circle to participate in the conversation. Maybe a card-based party game; normally an inappropriate one. The usual.
Of course, it was only a matter of time before the usual was disrupted.
When Peter is around, that’s bound to happen. He’s a beacon of off-luck. Not bad per se, but not what you’re planning for. After no more than thirty minutes of the comfortable environment you’re so used to, Flash offers to break out a game.
“Not again,” groans a girl whose name you haven’t learned despite having seen her at around three of these events, “We do that every time.”
“What else would we do?” Flash demands around a mouthful of chips, looking a bit offended, since he loves the usual game.
“We’re practically graduating,” says another girl, who is looking around the room like some kind of predatory bird.
Her gaze lands on Peter. You realize very suddenly how much you don’t like that. Without thinking, you shift closer to him. He doesn’t notice, but her eyes sharpen. It’s with a supremely uncomfortable feeling in your stomach that you realize that you’re acting possessive. It’s not like you’re dating, really.
“When are we gonna play something more mature?” She questions, moving her sight away. “Seven minutes.”
MJ scoffs. “I’m pretty sure that anyone who thinks seven minutes in heaven is mature is inherently immature.”
“Yeah, alright, fine. Who’s in?” Flash says, as casually as if she’d suggested a game of Monopoly.
Aside from you and your group, everyone else seems to be willing. And here, you were starting to think that there was the slightest amount of normalcy in your inclusion here. You wonder what in god’s name they’re thinking. Who the hell wants to be shoved into a closet and forced to feel up a friend?
“I’m out,” MJ declares, looking unapologetic, “Wouldn’t exactly say I’m suited to this game.”
Flash shoots her a finger gun. “Support your local ace,” he says, which you assume is supposed to be nice, “You’re in charge of the timer.”
“Whatever,” she responds, and exits the circle to sit off to the side, taking a bowl of chips with her.
You shift in your seat, about to join her, when an empty bottle is tossed into your lap. “You start,” says the girl who’d suggested the game.
She’s expecting you to chicken out, you realize. It’s beyond childish, but the idea of it makes you angry. It makes you want to play, just to spite her. You wonder at what point she decided to pursue your best friend, and at what point someone pursuing your best friend became an issue for you.
Who are you kidding?
You glance at Ned, who looks awkward, but it doesn’t seem like he’s leaving unless you and Peter do. And Peter– well, his expression is unreadable. There’s a flash of something in his eyes when you meet them, but you don’t want to consider it. Too much is going on in your head already.
With maybe a little too much force, you slap the bottle down on the table and spin it. It turns for an eternity, approximately, before it begins to slow. You couldn’t physically feel any more uncomfortable, you think, when it eventually slows to a stop. It’s pointing at Flash.
He looks about as uncomfortable as you feel. “Hold on,” he says, throwing up his hands, “I don’t like that.”
“Thanks,” you say sarcastically, despite your wholehearted agreement.
“Respin,” he demands, pushing the bottle away.
“Coward!” Exclaims MJ.
You make a mental note to have a conversation with her about timing and context, because it seems her sense of both need work. To much jeering from several members of the group, Flash insists on a respin anyway. He does, however, agree to just suck it up and sit in the closet quietly for seven minutes with the next person he doesn’t want to kiss. It’s a dodged bullet, but now you’ve got to go again. As if the anxiety of the first time wasn’t enough.
Chest tightening, you spin it again, just as hard. The room watches excitedly, but you’re feeling nothing but dread. Regret has hit you already. You shouldn’t have allowed yourself to get caught up in this. It wasn’t your business if some girl wanted to kiss Peter in some cramped, dusty closet.
You’re so busy berating yourself for acting ridiculous that you almost fail to recognize the verdict that befalls you. The room erupts in hollering before it even fully stops spinning. Peter tenses next to you.
It’s pointing at him.
“Closet!” Flash exclaims over the excitement of the group, arm thrown out in the direction on a door in the hallway, “Let’s go! Come on!”
“You can’t come, Flash, you said you didn’t want to kiss her,” Peter quips, but his voice has taken on that tone that you know for a fact is a bluff.
He’s not nearly as calm as he’s trying to sound.
Flash’s hand comes down hard against Peter’s ass when he attempts to scoot by. Peter yelps, looking scandalized. Flash ushers him forward. “Watch it, Parker! You know what I meant. Get in there!”
Heart and mind racing, you lift yourself out of your seat. The girl who’d started this mess gives you a venomous look. You can’t bring yourself to deal anything back to her.
What have you done?
Peter and Flash are already at the closet when you finally shuffle your way over. MJ is just behind you, looking only vaguely apologetic. She knows you got yourself into this. Her phone is ready with a seven minute countdown. There’s shuffling in the living room as everyone begins to make their way excitedly toward the spot where your life will momentarily end. Vultures.
Flash steps into the closet and snatches a little key off a small hook just inside the door. When he exits, he pushes Peter’s shoulder and sends him stumbling inside. He’s polite enough not to attempt to shove you. It would be a lot easier to get on with this if he did, though.
“Lights on, lights off, I don’t care,” he says as you step in. “Don’t make a mess. This is where we keep the nice coats. Dry cleaning is expensive.”
The door slams in your face before you can protest against his insinuations. There’s the distinct sound of the lock clicking, and Michelle calls through the door that the timer is started.
Peter reaches up to pull the chain that operates the overhead light, and you nearly jump out of your skin. Your back hits the door. “Oh, shit!” Someone says on the other side, and you feel your face heat up even more than it already has.
Peter gives you a sheepish smile. “Sorry. Should have warned you,” he says.
You glance around. To the right are the aforementioned “nice coats” that you very much want to ruin just to spite Flash. Behind Peter are several sets of shelves with various odds and ends. To your left, a waist-high cabinet that contains who-knows-what. You guess it’s not that cramped, or dusty. Whatever.
Peter shifts awkwardly where he stands. Neither of you say anything for what feels like a year, but it’s probably more like a minute. “Don’t forget to breathe,” Flash’s voice drifts through the door, teasingly.
“Mind your business,” you shout back without thinking.
Both the laughter and Peter’s expression alerts you to the fact that that was not the correct thing to say. He chuckles, too. His smile makes your chest hurt, so you look away just as quickly as you had begun. Again, you reach up to adjust your blouse.
He takes your hand. “Hey,” he says softly, stepping closer, bending to catch your eye, “Nothing has to happen. We can just wait it out.”
You can’t help but narrow your eyes at his phrasing. You keep your voice low too, in the hopes that the peanut gallery outside can’t hear. “Has to happen?” You question, “Sounds like there’s the option for something to happen, if I feel like it.”
“Isn’t there?” Peter asks.
Oh.
Oh.
You want to respond so badly. The words can barely even form in your mind, let alone making it all the way to your mouth and out into the world. What response is there to finding out that your best friend, whom you’ve maybe been trying not to fall in love with for a long time now, wants to kiss you if given the opportunity? Is there one?
Yes, you think, finally. There is.
Peter’s still holding your hand. You take advantage of it and pull him forward, your free hand coming up to wrap around the back of his neck. When you pull him to you and press your lips against his, it’s soft. You’re jittery beyond belief, but you’re not rushing this moment. It’s a simple kiss, lasting only a few seconds. You can feel his smile.
When you pull back, you’re greeted with a grin that’s almost familiar. But there’s something different there, something you’re not accustomed to seeing in his expression. He’s still close enough for his breath to be hot against your face.
Peter kisses you again. This time is far more desperate, more excited. His hands come up to either side of your head, angling you to gain better access to your mouth. You’re backed up against the door as he moves in even closer to you. The impact, while minimal, elicits an amused gasp from you.
He takes advantage of your open mouth to introduce tongue. Every part of your body lights on fire. You clutch his shoulder, feeling dizzy, and delight in this new experience. It’s genuinely unfair how good he is at this, considering his lack of practice.
He pulls away just enough to kiss the underside of your jaw, and you jolt in surprise. The door shakes with your movement. Outside, the crowd gets a little rowdier for a moment.
Shit, you mouth, slapping a hand against your forehead. It’s so embarrassing.
Peter is more flushed now then ever, but he continues on, braver than you’ve ever been. Without any warning, he hooks his hands around your thighs and hoists you up onto the cabinet. Incredibly, the movement isn’t nearly as loud as you figure it could have been. His mouth slots back against yours within a fraction of a second.
You feel his hands drift across your waist, not touching skin, but definitely examining the curve of your hips. He presses his body closer, flush with the cabinet, and your legs spread to accommodate him. One hand finds its way into your hair, sending an involuntary twitch down your spine.
The door clicks unlocked.
You freeze. Peter doesn’t. In a millisecond, he’s back to the other side of the closet. By the time the door swings open, he’s managed to cross his arms as if he’d been standing there comfortably the whole time. You can’t bear to look at the people in the doorway, so you stare, hard, at his face instead. The possibility that you might give away what’s just occurred is a bit too much to bear.
Peter’s face is redder than you’ve ever seen, blush spreading down across his neck. He had turned toward the door when it opened, his expression struggling to hold some sense of calm. He had been too caught up in it all to care who was outside while the door was closed, you know, but neither of you really want it to be confirmed in front of god and everyone that he’s thoroughly ravished you in the nice coat closet.
As fast as you can without making eye contact, you look at the intruders, who are still attempting to assess what had occurred moments before. It occurs to you that maybe they hadn’t actually expected any kind of follow-through in this scenario. To be fair, the likelihood had seemed terribly minimal. Even with such a quick glance, you can tell they aren’t sure what did or didn’t happen.
“Who’s next?” Peter offers up, sounding embarrassed and very much like he’d like to move on, but still managing to at least look like he hadn’t been about ten seconds from doing something extra inappropriate.
Your thighs are still spread almost enough for it to be a legitimately horrifying issue. When you risk another look, you see MJ squinting at them. The desire to shut them is strong, but you figure it’d be easier to pass it off as being unladylike if you don’t act like you’re embarrassed by it.
What a nightmare.
“That was quick,” you say in an attempt to end the awkward silence.
Peter reaches his hand out to you. Taking it, you hop down onto the floor. You move toward the door to leave, but the crowd doesn’t disperse to let you through.
“What was the banging on the door?” Questions Flash, staring suspiciously at Peter.
Because he’s a terrible liar, you answer instead. “Bang one was Peter scaring the shit out of me by turning on the light, bang two was me trying to get up onto this fucking cabinet. I’m short, dude. Get lower furniture.”
Mercifully, they accept it as a legitimate answer. The crowd parts with a distinguished air of disappointment. Peter brushes his hand across your back when you move to leave the closet together. Before you even have time to worry about what’s happened, his smile assures you.
Later, parked in the driveway of your house long after Ned has been dropped off, Peter pulls away from you mid-kiss and shoots you the most smug expression you’ve ever seen on his face.
“And someone had a bad feeling about that party.”
You kiss the stupid look off his face, trying not to laugh.
a/n: don’t forget to let me know if you want to be on the taglist!
warnings: jealously, feelings of insecurity around intelligence, slightly suggestive language/situations
pairing: peter parker x reader
word count: 6.8k
summary: sometimes you feel a little behind everyone else, but peter makes sure to remind you that you’re not as alone as you think you are
masterlist ~ requests are closed
~
"How did I even get into Midtown?" You banged your head against your desk, making your best friend snicker. "I have no brain cells in my head. Maybe just one but it's bouncing around and not retaining anything."
"Come on, you're just not trying hard enough. You can do it," Peter encouraged, and you couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm.
He had always been this way. Ever since you met his little nerdy self in fourth grade, he had pushed you to believe in yourself more and try harder. The fact was, you just didn't have things click for you the way they seemed to click for him. But his faith in you was relentless, and you supposed that was part of the reason why you started to love him so much.
"Is it bad if I don't even know what an...inertia...is?" You read slowly, looking up to see Peter putting his head in his hands.
"It's not a thing, it's an action, or an inaction I guess - that's not really the point," he sighed, "Y/N, were you paying attention last lecture?"
"Uh..."
"I already know the answer to that, I guess. What's on your mind?"
You. Of course you weren't going to say that out loud, but really, how were you supposed to concentrate when Peter was right next you to every class and had the audacity to look so cute? It was his fault you were failing, obviously.
"I dunno," you mumbled, leaning your face on your arm and staring at him, "How can you do all this and be Spider-Man?"
"I have many brain cells bouncing around my head, unlike your single one."
You threw your water bottle at him and he caught it easily, laughing at you. "I don't know, Y/N. School's never been stressful for me, you know that."
You couldn't help the spark of jealousy you felt at that, knowing he didn't mean it in a bragging way, but it still sucked. He barely had to study to take a test and still ace it, and he spent minutes on homework that took you hours.
He never made you feel stupid, even when you would stare at words of a question and have to reread it multiple times to understand what it was asking. Even when you had to have him repeat concepts to you over and over again until you finally remembered. Even when you mixed up definitions and dates and equations.
"I think you need a new studying approach," he suggested, his eagerness to help you focus making your jealousy evaporate almost immediately. He was too kind for you to be annoyed at.
"What do you have in mind?" You asked, tapping your pencil against your paper, "Because I've tried pretty much every tactic there is."
"What about a reward system type of studying? You nail one concept and give yourself some kind of reward."
"And what would my reward be?"
He snapped his fingers like he got a sudden idea, "I'll take you swinging."
"Seriously?" You gave him a funny look, hoping you didn't look flustered at the idea, "You told me no, like, years ago."
"Hey, it's something you want to do really bad though, right? So it's the perfect motivator."
You frowned at his excited expression. He wasn't wrong - ever since you found out he was Spider-Man, you had begged him to take you swinging. It looked fun! But he always said no, at first because he wasn't confident enough in himself that he wouldn't drop you, but now because he was worried if someone saw, they'd somehow track you down as a target.
"Fine," you pouted, "I really do want to go swinging."
"Then once you nail these concepts, we'll go."
"Promise?"
"I promise," he grinned at you, "But low swinging only, in case you suddenly decide you're afraid of heights. And we'll need to go early in the morning, not at night, I don't want anyone seeing Spider-Man swinging some girl around. Okay?"
"That's a lot of rules," you joked, but you couldn't help the excitement building in your chest.
Maybe a reward system wasn't such a bad idea after all.
-
"I got in!" Ned's excited voice made you and MJ glance up. Peter was grinning next to him as they approached your lunch table.
"To MIT?" MJ asked, and he nodded and held up his letter.
Both of you cheered, Peter joining in on hyping up your friend by shaking Ned's shoulders.
"Told you you would get in," you teased, making Ned roll his eyes as he sat down with you all.
"Hey, now we all know where we're going next year," Peter grinned at you, and you smiled back weakly.
He wasn't wrong. You had decided first, choosing only to apply to the small community college that was close to where you were going to get an apartment with some friends that were going there, too. It would save you money, which was nice. There wasn't a point in applying anywhere else given your grades, but you hadn't told your friends that.
It didn't really bother you until your friends started getting tons of acceptances to their "safety" schools, which were ones you wouldn't have ever gotten into. Then MJ got into Princeton, Peter got into Columbia, now Ned to MIT - you suddenly felt small compared to them, and it bothered you a little.
They didn't brag about it, at least not around you. Ned and MJ were excited that you were going to the school you were going to, saying it would be awesome to be able to come back and visit New York and know that you would be there. Peter was thrilled that you'd still be in New York with him. It didn't make you feel any better about it, though.
"We're gonna go celebrate after school, want to join?" Ned asked, and you forced a smile.
"I'd love to, but, uh, actually I have to go to Ms. Smith's class to go over a quiz," you sighed, trying not to pay attention to that stupid feeling of jealousy you were getting.
It left a bitter taste in your mouth whenever you thought about them going to such prestigious schools, despite knowing that they deserved everything they got and more. You were so proud of them, even if you constantly felt like you were a step behind.
You'd have to get over that some day, but you weren't sure how soon that would happen.
-
You were nearly finished with your first year of college when you decided that you didn't like it very much.
It wasn't necessarily that it was harder than high school - you had gone to a science school meant for smart kids, so it really wasn't that different. Your classes were pretty much on the same level that Midtown was on.
But you missed your friends. You missed Peter the most, and not being able to see him every day sucked. He still was able to visit you frequently, but he was busier than ever with school and also with missions that the remaining Avengers would now suddenly spring on him since he was legally an adult.
Multiple times he would drop into your new bedroom, ripping his mask off and looking so tired that you would just let him sit and rant.
If possible, you loved him more than ever. His determination, his kindness, his eagerness to help people who often didn't return any thanks - you loved every part of him. Seeing him in the fleeting moments made you just miss him more, and realize more and more that you needed to do something about it, or you'd regret it forever.
It was nearly summer break when you were able to get your hands on something you knew he'd love. Your science teacher provided all students with four tickets to a science exhibit that wouldn't normally interest you, but you saw it as an opportunity.
He liked stuff like this. And you liked him. Obviously you were going to invite him, if just to be able to spend time with him and see how excited he would get about the exhibit.
Still, you invited MJ too since she was in town. You were a coward.
"Y/N, this is so awesome!" He hugged you tightly when you presented him with the tickets during a study session, making you laugh. Your heart might have also skipped a beat, but you made yourself let go before it became awkward.
"I had an extra ticket for Ned, but I don't think he'll be in New York," you shrugged. "And my roommates aren't really science people, so."
"Do you mind if I bring a friend?" Peter asked, "Her name's Gwen. She's in one of my classes and would probably love this."
Huh. Gwen, a girl in his class he's never mentioned before, but apparently he knows enough about her that he knows she likes science stuff. You felt the frown on your face as you recognized that ugly emotion rising in your chest. You hated jealousy.
You really hoped he wasn't reading too into the expression on your face, and you masked it quickly. "Oh, sure. That'll work! Yeah, okay."
He stared at you for a second with a strange emotion in his expression, one that you couldn't place. "You alright?"
"Yeah?"
"Okay, just checking," he didn't look away from you for a moment, before suddenly reaching for your pencil. "You did this equation wrong, by the way."
"What?" You pouted, the sudden subject change taking you slightly by surprise.
"All you did was accidentally switch these around," he suddenly leaned closer to you in order to write on the page, and you almost felt like you had to hold your breath as he scratched out some numbers and rewrote the problem. "See?"
"Ah," you replied, ignoring how he didn't move away, instead just keeping his chair close to yours as he squinted at your paper some more. Your eyes trailed over his knit eyebrows and down to his lips before you forced yourself to look away.
You needed to chill out.
"Simple mistake," he looked back at you, grinning, "The rest of this is flawless."
"For once," you muttered, quickly changing the subject, "Well, thanks, Peter. I seriously appreciate these tutoring sessions."
"Anytime, sweetheart," luckily he wasn't looking at you, so he missed the way you nearly choked at that nickname. "How did your bio test go, by the way?"
"Uh, great, good," you paused, collecting your thoughts, "Actually, the grade isn't out yet, so I don't know for sure."
"You did really good in the last studying we did, I'm sure you'll do great this time, too," he smiled, nearly making your brain short-circuit.
He was sitting way too close to you, being way too sweet, calling you pet names that made your insides churn - he needed to stop, or you would probably combust.
"Wow, look at the time!" You suddenly scooted your chair back, "It's pretty late, shouldn't you be patrolling soon?"
He gave you a funny look, his gaze sliding over to your clock. "It's not even three?"
"Crime doesn't work around a clock," you chuckled awkwardly, "I actually have to meet a classmate at the library anyway, so. I'll see you for the exhibit?"
"Sure," he agreed, still giving you a weird look, but letting it slide nonetheless.
You sighed and resisted the urge to bang your head against your door once he left, just leaning your head against it instead. You should've just lied and said there were only three tickets. Or even just said two and gone with him alone like you should've done in the first place.
Coward.
-
Sooner than you would've liked, you were waiting outside a coffee shop with Peter, waiting for Gwen and MJ to show up.
"Gwen should be here in about five," Peter said after glancing at his phone, and you shrugged.
"Cool."
It was quiet for a minute, which was unusual for the both of you. You glanced up at him, surprised by the weirdly giddy expression on his face. Peter might have loved science, but he was strangely happy for just an exhibit trip.
"Why are you grinning like that?" You questioned, and he just shook his head.
"No reason. What time will MJ get here?"
Hopefully soon, you thought to yourself bitterly. Peter's suddenly happy mood made you wonder if this Gwen was really just a friend. Was he really grinning like an idiot because she was coming?
A few introductions and coffees later, and you were all walking through the exhibit. MJ stuck with you, catching you up on her life since being at Princeton. Peter had seen her more recently, but this was only the second time you saw her in person since starting college, and you were happy to listen to her and share stories.
Unfortunately, that meant Gwen and Peter were pretty much left to each other.
Gwen was excitedly talking about the process of something or other, Peter listening to her intently as she pointed at something on the exhibit. MJ had stuck right next to you while you stood a few feet away, pretending to be interested in something else.
"You look a little green," MJ grinned, and you shot her a dirty look. "You're lucky Peter is blind to jealousy."
"Leave me alone. I'm mourning."
"You're dramatic. He doesn't like her like that."
"You should've seen how excited he was for her to get here," you grumbled, ignoring it when MJ rolled her eyes.
"You're the only one for him, Y/N. One day he'll have to admit that."
Maybe in your wildest dreams.
Gwen was smart. She was smart, and pretty, and really nice - you didn't want to be that person who got annoyed at someone just because you were jealous, but it didn't really help that Peter was around her a lot.
She was pointing out things in the exhibit and talking about them in a way you never could. How could she remember all this stuff and just pull facts out like a magic trick?
She would suit him better. She was as smart as him, he wouldn't have to sit with her for hours and explain concepts to her. She understood and liked the same niche science things that Peter did. He deserved someone like that.
"Well, I have to head back, I have my internship in the morning," Gwen said in an apologetic tone, snapping you out of those thoughts. "It was really nice to meet you guys, thanks for inviting me!"
"Of course," you smiled back, hoping it didn't look forced. She really was nice, and you would need to get over it - she seemed like a good fit for Peter, and you were sure you'd see her again.
"She's great, isn't she?" Peter asked once she had left, and you nodded.
"Yeah. Really...smart."
MJ shrugged, "She was cute. I have to meet up with my mom pretty soon, you guys alright if I take off?"
"Sure, I'll make sure she gets home safely, Miss Jones," Peter hooked his arm with yours, making you laugh a little.
"You better," MJ pointed at him accusingly, before laughing and hugging you both goodbye.
It was only about ten minutes into the walk home when you started complaining.
"Can't we just swing home? It'll be faster!"
"Nope, swinging is for the studying reward system only," he said firmly, making you pout. "Alright, don't give me puppy dog eyes, it isn't going to work."
"It'll take so much longer to walk, though," you clasped your hands together in a pleading motion, and Peter just scoffed.
"What, you hate spending time with me that much?"
"You suck," you dropped your hands, frowning at him, "You know that's not true."
"Well, I know that I love spending time with you," he grinned, and you felt like you would melt into a puddle if he ever looked at you that way again. "Thanks for inviting me today. It was fun."
"Of course," you smiled back, looking away as you realized you were already approaching your apartment building. Maybe it was a good thing you didn't make him swing you both - it was kind of a short walk.
You were going to bid him goodbye when he suddenly wrapped his fingers around your wrist, stopping you.
"I know this is a weird question," Peter hesitated, "But...you never want to come visit me on campus anymore. I usually have to come to you, and this is the first time we've done anything in a while. Did...did I do something wrong?"
You felt your heart drop, hating that that was the first thing he was assuming. "No! No, not at all, I just...I don't really feel like..."
He waited patiently, looking at least slightly relieved that you quickly denied him doing anything wrong.
"I feel out of place whenever I visit you on campus," you admitted, and his eyebrows knitting in confusion pretty much told you that he didn't get it. "I didn't bother applying because I knew I wouldn't get in. There's so many smart people there, and I feel like...the more I'm there, the more you'll realize I don't belong there, with your smart friends. Like, for God's sake, you have to tutor me in a subject I've been taking since the eighth grade, you'd never have to do that for any of them."
Peter was silent for a minute, his expression almost looking angry when he finally spoke. "You think...you think I'd rather be friends with people that go to Columbia, over you? Because you think they're smarter than you, or because it's apparently a burden for me to tutor you?"
"Is it not?" You looked at the ground, frowning, "I mean, don't you get tired of it?"
"I like tutoring you," Peter insisted, his fingers lifting your chin up to look him in the eye. "I like being around you, I like being your friend, I like supporting you. You aren't stupid, Y/N. In fact, you're so smart. You can't base your intelligence off of grades or standardized testing, you know? And you can't base your value off of how quick you can pick up a concept."
He made it way too easy for you to fall in love with him. You stared at him for a moment, trying not to blurt your feelings even as the words crawled up your throat. "Thanks, Peter."
"You know that you're pretty much my best friend, right? And that I would never think less of you just because you don't go to an ivy league?"
"I know," you said quietly, finally forcing yourself to lift your chin out of his loose grip. "I know that. Guess I just need reassurance every once in a while."
Best friend. You should have been thrilled that he called you that, but something in your heart cracked nonetheless. One of these days you would need to face your feelings head on, and just deal with the consequences.
"Does this mean you'll visit me on campus again?" He asked, his hopeful grin making you laugh a little. "There's a new cafe right down the street that I think you'll like. And it's quiet enough for studying!"
"I'd like that."
That weird look from the other day crossed over his face, making you once again wonder what he was thinking. Instead of saying anything, he just took a closer step toward you. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to your forehead, "Have a good night, Y/N."
You felt something weird building in your chest as he grinned and waved goodbye, and you couldn't even bring yourself to say anything back as he walked away.
-
Even after all these years, you still hated studying.
The music was not helping. In fact, it was really distracting, but you were trying to force yourself to make it work anyway. The reward system idea was the best one, but it wasn't the same when Peter wasn't there.
Your window was always open this time of day, the summer air finally cooling down enough. While New York didn't exactly have "fresh" air, it was nice to have a breeze come in and to enjoy it before it was nighttime and bugs would come in from the light. You also lived several stories up - the only thing that ever really came into your room was Peter, but he hadn't been around for a few weeks. Maybe you hoped he would randomly show up if you just kept it open every night.
The last several weeks had been crappy for several reasons. You hated summer school, you hated the fact that you had to do it at all, but also the work load was ridiculous. You hated that Peter wasn't around - not just for studying, but because you missed him. His stupid jokes, his Spider-Man stories, the sound of his laughter and the smile on his face when he got excited about something.
You had to tell him how you felt. But the idea of any type of rejection made you want to curl up and die and never speak to anyone ever again.
Summer school was really frying your brain.
You grit your teeth and forced yourself to read the math equation again, determined to get through at least this worksheet before giving up. You were in an awful mood, but hopefully if you just got through this, you could go and hang out with your roommates and calm down. And maybe Peter would text you before you started to worry.
The sudden sound behind you made you jump out of your chair, eyes widening at the sudden appearance of a tall figure standing by your window. Normally you wouldn't jump to conclusions and would assume it was Peter, but you couldn't see who it was in the dark. And Peter would've texted you first, right?
You almost let out a scream, but suddenly a hand was covering your mouth and you stared wide eyed at Spider-Man's mask as it was muffled. "It's just me!"
"What the hell was that, Y/N?" Peter still didn't drop his hand when your roommate shouted from the other room.
You grabbed his wrist and removed it from your mouth, glaring at him as you yelled back, "Nothing! Just thought I saw a spider!"
Peter snickered at that and you shushed him, going to lock your door just in case one of them decided to investigate. He ripped his mask off, shaking his head and making his hair stand up all funny. He took one look at your annoyed expression before bursting into laughter, making you shush him again.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" You hissed while he kept laughing quietly, "You scared the shit out of me!"
"Sorry," he didn't sound sorry as he crossed his arms, "Just wanted to say hi, it's been a while."
"Yeah, where the hell have you been?" You relaxed a little, realizing how much you had missed him during his absence. You definitely knew you missed him, but having him here in front of you made you want to hug him and never let go. You hated when he had to leave abruptly and he couldn't even text you.
"Sam and Bucky asked me to join on a mission, it wasn't a big deal, just had to leave last minute and had no cell service," he sighed, plopping down on your desk chair and spinning around in it. "What have you been up to? And what the hell are you listening to?"
You pouted as he leaned forward and squinted at your playlist. "I heard that classical music helps you study and actually focus so I wanted to try it."
"This is making me feel like we're in the 1600's," he laughed, grabbing your phone and looking for something different, ignoring your protests.
"You have a lot of nerve coming in here and messing with all my stuff after being absent for two weeks," you muttered, crossing your arms.
"Aw, I knew you missed me," he winked at you, and you pretended that didn't make your heart skip a beat.
If that didn't fluster you, it certainly did when he started playing "I Hear a Symphony". You recognized it the second the first few notes played, staring at him wide eyed as he stood up and offered you a hand.
"May I have this dance?" He asked, the expression on his face making you take his hand no questions asked.
Peter's hand held yours tightly while he let his other rest on your waist, pulling you right up to his chest. For a minute he stared at you, and you let your free hand hold onto the top of his shoulder while he seemed to shake himself out of his stare.
"You looked like you needed a break," he whispered, and you felt yourself relax. His eyes focused on a spot just beneath yours, probably noting the dark circles. He wouldn't know that they were because you were worried about him and could hardly sleep.
"I probably do."
He spun you around your room as the music picked up, making you laugh at the goofy smile on his face as he essentially was ballroom dancing with you to possibly the cheesiest romance song you'd heard this year.
"I really did miss you," you managed to say as he dipped you, unable to keep the grin off your face, "Even if you are trying to make me trip over all the shit on my floor."
"You have just enough room for dancing, my dorm would be way too small for this," he lifted you back up, his hand tightening on your waist as he started swaying with you again. "And I missed you, too. A lot."
He spun you a last time, his hand finding your waist again immediately as he smiled at you. For a second you stared at him, the soft expression on his face almost making you suspicious. It almost mimicked the ones that he had given you weeks ago, the ones that you couldn't really figure out.
The mood was cut short when the song ended and instead skipped to the next one, which must've been from your cleaning playlist. You both flinched at the suddenly loud music blasting, barely able to look at each other for a second before bursting into laughter.
"What the hell is wrong with your playlists?" Peter chuckled in your ear, for some reason not letting go of his embrace on you, "You go from classical music, to whatever the fuck this is?"
"Don't bash on my taste," you patted his chest, making the move to go over and just shut your phone off. Peter held onto your hand as you did so, surprising you by pulling you back to him once you stopped the music.
"Yes?" You asked, a teasing smile dancing on your lips until you saw the look on his face. "You alright?"
"I need to tell you something."
"Okay?"
He continued staring at you for a minute, his eyes moving over your curious expression, as if he were contemplating what to say. You stared right back, trying to look him in the eye despite the suddenly nervous feeling you had in your chest whenever his brown eyes looked at you like that. You didn't want to get your hopes up, but...
"There was a moment, on the mission," he finally spoke, shutting his eyes for a second, "I-I wasn't sure if...I didn't know if we were going to make it out. I don't want to go into detail, and looking back on it we were definitely fine, but...it made me think some things. Like some 'my life is flashing before my eyes and I don't want to go with regrets' kind of things."
You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. He only stared into your eyes for another minute before bringing a hand up to your face. His eyes moved down to your lips and you were suddenly aware of how close he was, how his fingers were now trailing down your jaw, how your heart was racing and you were certain he knew it by the slightly shy grin suddenly appearing on his face.
"I'm in love with you, Y/N," he whispered, his eyes moving back up to yours, "I think I always have been. I never wanted to say anything, because I wasn't really sure how you felt back then, but then I wasn't sure if I was going to make it back home and I knew I had to tell you. In case I never got the chance again."
You stared at him blankly while he waited for your reaction, his expression as nervous as you had been feeling before. Unfortunately, you had a tendency to deflect to humor when you were nervous.
"You had to almost die to realize you had feelings for me?"
He let out a groan, leaning his forehead against yours as you laughed at him, forcing yourself to relax as he did. "Come on. I've known how I've felt for you for a while, but this just...gave me the push I needed. And hey, I'm trying to be romantic here. You're killing my vibe."
"You were being really romantic up until you brought up your vibe."
"Y/N."
His tone was warning, one of his hands sliding up your back and his eyes searching yours while you tried not to grin at him. All you could think about was that he loved you, and you were wondering if you were going to wake up any second to realize this was a dream.
"Peter."
"I love you."
"I know."
"I swear to God, if you Han Solo me right now-"
You reached your hands up this time to hold his cheeks, making him stop talking. "I love you, too. I have for a while."
His mouth broke into a wide smile, "I know."
"If you already knew, then why are you acting like a nervous wreck?"
"It's different knowing something versus you actually saying it out loud," his smile turned soft, one of his fingers catching and playing with a strand of your hair. "Say it again."
"I love you," you repeated, his smile contagious, "And I'm going to kiss you now because you're taking way too long."
"I'm not gonna protest that," His hand moved to cup your cheek, bringing you toward him. "I seriously do love you."
You felt it. The way he was now kissing you, the way his hands were holding you, like he never wanted to let you go - he meant it. He almost died and his last thoughts were that he wanted you. He wanted you.
That thought made you press against him even more, forgetting any thoughts about how you should probably not go any further with your roommates in the other room. He didn't hesitate to match your energy, and you didn't even realize he was moving you both until you felt your back meet your mattress.
"I can't believe I waited so long to do this," he muttered once you broke apart for air, hovering over you with a hand still on your face. "I love you."
"Say it again," you whispered what he himself said earlier, not able to help the childish giddy feeling in your chest when he said it. Even if he already said it multiple times now. It was all you had ever wanted him to say, and it still didn't feel real. If your alarm clock went off in a second and woke you up, you wouldn't even be surprised.
"I love you," he repeated, his smile mirroring yours as he leaned down to kiss you again. "I love you so much, sweetheart."
His lips moved to your nose, your cheek, your jawline. You shut your eyes as he started moving toward your neck, but you grabbed his face and pulled it back to yours, knowing better than to let him move into that territory just yet.
Peter didn't hesitate this time to part your lips, deepening the kiss enough to make you feel slightly dizzy. His hand gripped your waist, and you squeaked against him when his other one brought your leg up to hook over his hip.
You let your hands move up to his hair, and you felt him groan against your lips when you unintentionally tugged on it. That noise made you pull back, pressing a hand to his shoulder to keep him from following your lips, though you could tell he still tried.
"My roommates are home, dude."
"You did not just call me dude after I had my tongue in your mouth."
You bit your lip to keep from laughing, the annoyed expression on his bright red face making you almost go over the edge.
"My roommates will be coming to bug me in about ten minutes to go out for drinks, and will wonder why a maskless Spider-Man in is my room. Or, if you took the suit off and wore your normal clothes, they'd be wondering how Peter Parker just magically appeared in my room. Think logically, you're supposed to be the smart one here."
He sighed, resting his head against your collarbone and relaxing against you. "Fine. Whatever."
"You're such a boy."
"I missed you," he whined, and you laughed as you let your fingers run through his hair, "Are you really going to kick me out?"
"Maybe if you came through the front door like a normal person, I'll let you back in."
"Hey, I can do that," he sat up, making you laugh as he hurried to put his mask back on. "I'll go knock on your door and everything!"
"You're a dork," you snorted as he hurried to your window. "See you in five?"
"More like two," his masked eye winked, and you chuckled again as he ducked out.
It wasn't even a minute later that you heard a knock on your front door. You waited, arms crossed as you heard your one of your roommates groan and get up to answer it.
"Peter, what a surprise," you heard your roommate say flatly, almost making you laugh. "You know we love you, but on drinking night? Seriously?"
"Sorry, Y/N said she needed a study buddy," you heard Peter say apologetically as you made your way around the corner.
"I did," you shrugged as she glared at you, "Sorry?"
"I'm guessing this means to drinking tonight," your other roommate frowned, making you laugh.
"Not for me at least. Got a lot of studying to do, I'm sorry," you apologized, hoping Peter wasn't making a face behind you that would give away the lie. "Tomorrow?"
"Sure," she waved her hand, smirking a little, "Have fun you two!"
You shot her the middle finger as you shoved a snickering Peter into your room. He tossed his bag on the floor, turning to grin at you as you shut and locked your door.
"Hello," he circled his arms around your waist, and you tried not to grin when his eyes moved to your lips again.
"Hi," you whispered back. "I'm really glad you're back okay."
"Me too," he rested his forehead against yours, shutting his eyes. "And I can't tell you how happy I am that you feel the same."
A warm feeling made its way through your chest and you couldn't help the smile on your lips when he opened his eyes to meet yours again. "Come here."
You tugged his hand and brought him back to your bed, ignoring the raised eyebrows he shot at you. "Don't get any funny ideas. I still have roommates and now they know I have a boy in my bedroom."
"Hey, I didn't say anything!" He held his hands up, and you tugged him down onto the bed with you anyway, rolling your eyes.
You were tired, and he was extremely tired from what you could tell. So you let him settle against you between your legs, tucking his head into your neck and wrapping his arms around your waist before shutting his eyes. Just like before, you let your hand travel up and tangle in his hair, feeling him sigh against you as you both relaxed.
"How long have you known?" You asked quietly, meeting his eyes when he lifted his head to rest his chin on you.
"Known what?"
"That I've had feelings for you."
He smiled a little smugly, making you roll your eyes. You had always figured he was just blind, or that maybe you weren't as obvious as you thought you were - but no, apparently he knew that you liked him. You just hoped it wasn't for an embarrassingly long amount of time.
"Pretty much since the face you made when I brought up Gwen Stacy for the first time. You have a cute jealous face, by the way."
"Oh," you raised your eyebrows, "You haven't known too long then. And really? I thought I covered it pretty well."
He frowned, "Wait, when you say that wasn't too long...how long have you liked me?"
You didn't answer immediately, which made him squint his eyes at you. "I don't know if I want to say it now."
His hand squeezed your side, making you jump and glare at him while he grinned.
"Y/N," he said softly, his teasing expression dropping, "I don't think you could possibly have liked me as long as I've liked you. As long as I've loved you, even."
"Try freshman year of high school," you said flatly, and his grin only widened.
"Try fifth grade," he countered, making you stare at him in bewilderment. "Maybe it was just a crush then, but I still think it counts."
"Fifth grade?" You asked weakly, "God, that means you liked me even through my emo phase. And you still liked me when I tried experimenting with make-up and looked like shit for three years in middle school. Something is seriously wrong with you, dude."
"And you liked me pre-Spider-Man," he raised an eyebrow, "I was like a twig. What the hell did you see in that?"
"I saw the sweet, funny, and cute guy that I couldn't picture not being in my life. I miss the glasses, actually. And you still are a twig."
"Why didn't you say anything?" He ignored that comment, resting his cheek against your collarbone again. "We could have been together literally all of high school if you had told me."
"Why didn't you say anything?" You threw the question back at him, "You had a longer amount of time to tell me."
"I didn't think you felt the same until last month," he mumbled against your skin, "I wasn't gonna risk the best thing in my life until I knew if you felt the same."
"And I didn't know you felt anything else aside from friendship toward me, until about...ten minutes ago? So I guess we're even."
"How did you not know? I thought it was obvious."
You suddenly sat up straight, "Was that why you were smiling like an idiot the day I met Gwen?"
"You being jealous was hilarious. And also it confirmed that you did feel something for me, of course I was happy about that."
You grabbed your pillow and smacked him with it, making him laugh as he blocked it. "I thought it was because you were excited to see her, you asshole!"
"I know," he snickered when you started hitting him more, "Hey!"
"You suck."
"I'm a suck-er for you, sweetheart," he grinned, making you roll your eyes. "Shouldn't I let you get back to studying?"
"Or you could tutor me, because I hate this class and you'd taken it in high school," you suggested.
"You know I love tutoring you. And the reward system we've made up."
"Alright. Swinging the prize again?"
He suddenly grinned, taking your hand in his and kissing your knuckles. You felt your face heat up at the gesture, especially at the grin he was now giving you.
"I actually have a different reward in mind, now."
HOO BOY. WE MADE IT Y’ALL.You’re a QUEEN for waiting this long, selen, tytyty ❤️❤️❤️This one was easily the hardest to figure out, so I hope I still managed to end pretty strong!!
Thanks again sister 😚
blurbs #24/42/53 “sorry, I have a girlfriend.” “kiss me again.” “can you please just come pick me up?”
Peter Parker is a grown ass adult, and his girlfriend is his ride. That’s fine and all, he feels no amount of shame toward the matter, because it’s so infrequent, but it’s not always the most convenient thing in the world for either you. Most of the time, he’s happy to have his web shooters be his transport everywhere.
That isn’t an option tonight.
It had been the plan, originally, when he left your shared apartment to go to the Daily Bugle office party. After all, Peter only intended to go for an hour or two. He’s only a freelance photographer and not a big enough fan of his boss to want to hang out with him over cake and punch, so it seemed like it would be silly to make you sit through all the traffic.
Only a half hour in, he’s already regretting his decision to come. Jameson is riling up half the employees with his typical loud mouthing about that absolute menace Spider-Man. Peter had already pissed him off by joking around a mouthful of buttercream frosting that, menace or not, you had to admit that Spider-Man had nice abs.
“I certainly do not have to admit such a blatant lie, Parker! What the hell are you doing looking at his abs in the first place? Maybe if you weren’t so distracted by his physique when you’re supposed to be doing your job I could use some more of your pictures!”
Peter had thought it’d been a pretty funny joke, anyway, and it had made the little vein in Jameson’s neck pop out, so as far as he was concerned he’d gotten everything he could have hoped for out of this party.
Unfortunately, one of the new journalists also thought it was pretty funny.
She stalks over to Peter while he’s perusing the cans of soda near the snack table and announces herself by giggling loudly enough for it to be startling, as if the joke hadn’t been a good ten minutes ago. He turns around to investigate and is met with a look that seems oddly predatory. While it’s unlikely that she’s any real threat, his spider sense flares up a bit.
“That was so funny!” She coos, before reaching past him to grab a bottle of sparkling water, far too much into his personal space.
“Uh, thanks,” he responds, stepping back toward the pretzels.
Oh, jesus.
Peter knows he’s decently attractive by now; a bit more confident in himself than he had been in his youth. There have been several occasions where he’s been hit on in the past few years, but most are pretty tame. This woman seems like she’ll be… insistent. He doesn’t really need it right now. He’d kind of been hoping to sneak out early, pick up some Indian food, and go home to screw around with you for the rest of the night.
“I agree with you, by the way,” she says, twisting off the cap and taking a sip like she’s trying to make sparkling water, of all things, sexy. “Spider-Man is built. The things I’d do, honestly.”
It’s a first, being hit on as Peter and Spider-Man by the same person, at the same time.
“That’s… nice,” he says, glancing around the room in hopes of finding salvation elsewhere.
He catches Jameson’s attention with his awkward look, and silently begs for help. He squints at Peter, hard, and goes back to ignoring him.
Great.
“But you,” she continues like Peter isn’t very clearly visually begging for respite, “You’re that bring home to daddy type, aren’t you? Spider-Man’s too busy to be anything more than a good night, I bet. You’d treat a girl real nice.”
She takes a step forward. He takes a step back.
“Sorry, I have a girlfriend,” Peter says, quickly, throwing his hands up in an uncomfortable attempt to put a barrier between them.
“I don’t see her,” she says, taking hold of the identification card that hangs around his neck.
He pulls her hand off the lanyard. “Pretty sure we weren’t allowed to bring guests,” he contends.
"And?"
“She’s on her way to pick me up,” he adds.
The woman tweaks her eyebrow, looking disbelieving, as she says, “Can’t wait to meet her.”
-
You find it hilarious when Peter runs to the bathroom to call you for help. Once he hears you laugh it off, he finds it kinda funny too, but that doesn’t change the fact that you need to come pick him up. Otherwise, he’ll spend the rest of his time at the Bugle watching his back like a gazelle in the savannah.
“She said I’m the bring home to daddy type, Y/N,” he stresses, “I don’t want to be brought home to daddy. Can you please just come and pick me up?”
You laugh so hard that he hears your phone fall out of your hand, and he smiles despite himself. You’re lucky he loves you.
-
The woman is very displeased when you arrive at the receptionist desk thirty minutes later. Peter watches her eyes narrow as she takes in the sight of you. You’re wearing his old marching band sweatshirt from high school, the one that has MIDTOWN TECH BRASS SECTION above the heart and PARKER printed across the back, and your hair is tied in a knot atop your head.
She looks unimpressed. Peter thinks you’re a knockout.
He knows for fact that that sweatshirt had been in storage.
The receptionist lets you into the office space, but Peter is happy to meet you halfway. Finally, he tries to say, but you stop him before you can. Peter’s never really seen you act jealous, but the kiss you cut him off with is quite a bit more than a greeting. It leaves him dumbstruck.
You pull him from the building, a sly smile coloring your expression, and burst out laughing again as soon as your butt hits the driver’s seat.
“Did you see her face, Peter?” You exclaim, slapping his thigh in your excitement, “She looked like I slapped the drink out of her hand! Who even likes sparkling water, anyway? That was great.”
Peter hadn’t seen her face to confirm this. He’d been too focused on the way that you had grasped the back of his head, the hand you had splayed across his chest, and the curve of your lips against his in a way that he’s never experienced before. Either you were truly jealous or just that committed to messing with his coworker.
Either way, he liked it.
“Kiss me again,” he requests, reaching out to for a fistful of your sweatshirt sleeve.
I Kind Of Think We’re Dating (Peter Parker x Reader)
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Summary: This isn’t how people normally start dating, probably, but even so… this is pretty damn good.
Word Count: 1953
A/N: does this make sense?? maybe not. do I care?? no!! I had fun!! enjoy my nonsense. this was almost entirely caused by the general Tone of those nights by bastille. not the lyrics, just the Feel
The couch is comfortably snug this friday night, like every other designated movie night, and wedged onto a too-small couch Peter and his friends are quite as content as they’re capable of being. That is, as content as one can be while you’re as teary-eyed as you’ve ever been. Nothing is really wrong, of course- simply the side effect of a sad movie and a habit of getting a super emotional. It’s a little silly, Ned teasingly points out as he pushes up from the couch to get a fresh bowl of popcorn, but you’re a loud crier and already laughing at yourself to boot, so you barely hear.
It’s endearing, Peter thinks. The way that you can express yourself so easily over something as inconsequential as a movie. He’s chuckling too, knowing full well that you’ll calm soon enough. Despite this, he throws his arm around you and pulls you closer against him. You melt into his comfort easily and turn to cry into his shoulder, still giggling at yourself.
It’s without really thinking that you raise your hand to cup his jaw as you wait for your tears to run dry. It doesn’t take too long, Peter rubbing your back, still laughing slightly, and the sound from the next room of Ned humming while the popcorn pops. The microwave beeps, the door opens and closes, and the popping sound resumes as the next bag starts. With a shaky inhale and a last breathy laugh, you raise your head to make a joking comment about how you’re acting a bit ridiculous.
The words can’t seem to leave your mouth. Peter is very close. His arm wrapped tightly around your shoulders, thigh pressed against yours, skin warm under the hand still holding his face. He’s looking at you with an odd expression of endeared concern. Your vision blurs. You realize, rather nervously, that it’s because he’s leaning in. You meet him in the last few centimeters.
Despite the very prevalent fact that this is Peter’s first kiss with you- his first kiss ever- his fear is much overcome by comfort. This is new and scary, but you aren’t. He knows all too well that you are one of the most solid assurances of his life, next to Aunt May and Ned (the way Mr. Stark was, before) and with that knowledge it feels strangely as if this is not all that unusual.
He’s not sure what’s come over him when he initiates this, but the fluttering in his stomach suggests that it’s good.
The microwave beeps, cutting through whatever bubble you’ve fallen into in Ned’s absence, and you break apart. Face warm, you train your expression into something calm. You are undoubtedly consumed with nerves and yet… Peter looks back at you so free of distress. He seems so accepting of what had just occurred and of course, he had been in the first to lean in. His assured demeanor seeps into you.
Everything is okay. It’s better.
By the time Ned re-enters and throws himself down on the couch beside you, you’re turned away from each other as if it hadn’t occurred. Peter’s arm stays resting across your shoulders, barely sacrificing the distance that was gained over the past few seconds. Ned hands the gigantic bowl of popcorn over to you to hold and presses play on the remote.The movie finishes without any tears, the next rounding off the night with a much lighter plot, and it all concludes with chatting and laughter.
Despite the fact that Ned excuses himself from the Parker residence thirty minutes before you do, the kiss goes undiscussed.
Peter does, however, walk you across the hall to your apartment instead of waving from the doorway, leaving you to wonder if those extra few steps had anything to do with what had happened. You shut your door. Peter’s shuts after a few moments.
It’s several long minutes before either of you leave the entryways.
-
The kiss in Peter’s living room is the first to happen without preamble or explanation, but it is not the last. It happens several times in the following weeks without much influence on the rest of your world. They’re sun showers that weren’t forecasted. It becomes almost normal. A series of private moments. Not exactly secret, never truly hid from the people around you, just not a public announcement. Neither of you are sure that there is something to announce. Despite the lack of clarity, you find yourselves inexplicably content as is for now. Content to enjoy the moments as they come. Never quite expecting the next rainfall, but delighted to go outside to bask in it.
The first time that it happens in public, you’re beneath a tree in the school’s quad. You’re with the usual group, but not quite– several feet away and slightly detached from the rowdy conversation. Peter is leaning against the trunk of the tall birch, a heavy textbook in his lap and his lunch to the side, for the most part uneaten. You are lying in the grass next to him in a spot of sun that breaks through the leaves. Speaking lightly about your disastrous attempts to find a prom dress with MJ, your hands gesture into the air above you.
“She’s so stylish in this cool edgy way and she dresses herself so well, but when it comes to other people it’s like she’s blind,” you laugh, before gesturing vaguely down your body, “The most observant person we know and yet she didn’t notice that the dress with the tulle skirt was see through. About ninety percent crotch, just out there on display to the general public.”
Peter laughs, turning the page of his book. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” he offers, kindly.
“Of course you would say so,” You say, propping yourself up on your elbows to shoot a glance at him, “You haven’t got a single impolite bone in your body.”
“I try.”
“Bless you.”
A laugh bubbles out of you once more as you’re smiling up at Peter, and his chest lightens at the sight. It’s without much consideration that he moves aside his textbook in order to lean over and kiss you. It’s quick, barely more than a peck. When he pulls back, you appear as calm as ever. The smile left over from a moment before softens. Affection colors your features. Peter, feeling quite contented, reorients himself and pulls his textbook back into his lap.
Once you have fallen back down to the grass, continuing on as if you hadn’t just been kissed by him a few feet from almost every person you know, Peter risks a glance at the crowd. Only one person appears to have noticed. MJ, looking quite like she knows everything and also somehow more, gives Peter a smiling nod, and directs her attention back to their rowdy friends.
The world keeps turning, maybe a little more happily than before.
And though Peter clearly didn’t try to hide when he’d gone and kissed one of his best friends in full view of god and everyone, part of him, he decided, was somewhat grateful that you had maintained some privacy.
And it’s nice.
-
The next person to be made aware is Ned.
On wednesdays, you walk Peter and Ned to decathlon practice before embarking on your train ride home. Ned talks excitedly about the progress he’s made on the coding project due next week, pleased to be a couple days ahead of where he’d expected to be. The hallways are empty now that everyone has gone home or to clubs, and there is no one else around to witness the kiss.
Outside, it’s raining. The rain has been coming down in heavy sheets for most of the day, but now the clouds have opened up, leaving nothing more than a pleasant drizzle and a pretty grey sky. You point it out as you pass by the large window across from the door to the decathlon practice room.
“Looks like it’s almost cleared up for the day.”
Peter pulls his backpack off his shoulder to shuffle through it and is quick to pull a small red umbrella from the middle pocket. “Here, take this,” he offers, extending it out to you.
It’s a sweet gesture, but you decline. You actually kind of like the feeling of being rained on.
The attempt at helpfulness was appreciated anyway, though, and without much thought you reach up to grasp gently around the back of his neck. The kiss you pull him down into is casual, and yet somehow quite serious with the presence of your friend. When you release him his eyes are wider than they had been before. He’s still got the backpack and umbrella gripped in each hand, almost like he’s forgotten he was holding them.
“See you guys,” you say, trying for a smile, and turn to leave through the nearest door.
“Bye!” Ned calls after you, excitement in his voice.
Peter shakes himself back into the moment and packs away the umbrella. Ned is grinning like he’s been told a juicy secret, and Peter supposes that in some ways he kind of was.
And yet, after he’s gotten over the initial surprise, Peter recognizes that what had happened was so natural. So normal. His chest has never felt lighter.
“That’s new,” Ned says as the glass door clicks shut behind you at the other end of the hallway.
Peter swings his bag back over his shoulder. “Not exactly,” he admits, a smile alighting across his features, “Alright, time to go.”
Ned enters the room first, shooting Peter an exaggerated look of mostly-amused betrayal. Peter follows him in, laughing at Ned’s scandalized No fair!, and feels your affection on his skin for the rest of practice.
Things are great.
-
Midtown Tech’s academic decathlon team sails to a victory at the national competition in Washington two weeks later. You’re in the crowd, of course, having promised Peter that you wouldn’t miss it as long as he promised not to vanish at the last minute like last time. He hits the buzzer a fraction of a second before the other team can. His answer is right, because they always are.
The lobby is packed with teams and audience members, but Midtown is easy to spot in the crowd thanks to their lemon yellow jackets and the trophy that Flash is hoisting above their heads. You push through the crowd, spotting Peter at the front of the group, and rush forward to meet him.
“Peter!”
He looks over to gain sight of you as you appear between a pair of audience members. Delight of winning fills him to his ears, pride is emanating from you, and you’re running to him. His team is still surrounding him, but the fact that they’re there to witness you is meaningless. The distance closes between you. The world is more in focus that it has ever been.
Forethought isn’t even there. It doesn’t need to be.
Peter catches your face between his hands and kisses you.
Your arms are thrown out for a hug you weren’t able to give. Peter’s nose bumps weirdly against yours for a moment before he can fit his lips into their proper place. The press of his lips is almost forceful, but only in his eagerness. When you bring your hands to rest gently on his sides, the pressure lightens, being replaced by the upturn of a smile that can’t help but appear.
Pulling back, he flashes you a bright smile.
“I kind of think we’re dating,” you say, almost an offer but mostly just a confirmation.
His laughter is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard.
