Peter Three over here like :0 because not only are Peter One and Two in the exclusive "fought an alien" club, now Peter One is joining Two's "organic webs" club without him
Summary: When Peter one wakes up with nightmares, Peter three steps up to help when he's the only big brother around.
Words: 1569
A/N: First fic of my summer vacation, ugh, chat I'm doing too much writing so many fics at once, but I'm happy I AT LAST got one out. Hope you like it 😭❤️
Fic under the cut :)
The feeling of a lumpy couch prodding right into the middle of a back, the smell of leftover pizza wafting through the living space, the ominous tick... tick of the grandfather clock.
Welp, it was definitely Peter three's place.
The Spider-Brothers were prone to sleepovers, sleepovers that were more often unplanned than not, and since this particular sleepover was the usual, Peter three treated his esteemed guests to his leftovers and tons of TV, and his alternate selves didn't complain one bit as they enjoyed a night of trash reality television and a contest to see who could eat the most pizza and then hold himself upside down without puking.
Normal Spider-Man activities.
And when Peter three woke up on that couch, the sky still an inky blue that early in the morning, many things didn't surprise him, and one thing did.
The taste of toothpaste in his mouth was still lingering after he brushed his teeth the night prior after he puked everywhere. His back was killing him more than Peter two's did him as he had slept on his lumpy couch for hours under a crumpled soda can. And he had a headache because apparently staring at a TV all day didn't do great things to you at all. Three expected all of this.
What he didn't expect is to hear gut-wrenching screams.
He jolted up off the couch, trying not to slip with socks on a hardwood floor. He immediately pinpointed the screaming to be coming from Peter one's room, which Three called the guest room, but it never housed any other guest but One. Peter two was always made to sleep in Three's room.
So yeah, Peter one's room.
Anyways, the older brother instincts kicked in, which spidey sense had nothing on as Peter three was in Peter one's room in 0.4 seconds flat.
"Hey, hey, what's wrong?? Why are you screaming? Why...????" Three, in his very frazzled and just as well meaning state, reached out to the younger, which he was happy to find looked physically safe, maybe just being a little paler then usual.
"Mister... no... he was... Mister Stark... don't go..." Peter one whimpered, a high, pleading sound as he reached out to the other Peter as well, seemingly desperate for something that the elder didn't know. Already, three felt hopeless.
"Hey, hey..." Three repeated, feeling himself cringe on the inside as he tried to find a better word to say then just "hey" over and over.
"It's okay. I won't go. I'm sorry, buddy. Mister Stark isn't here right now. But I'm here, okay? Peter three's here, and I'm not going anywhere." Three promised, clasping his little brother's hands, giving them a gentle squeeze that he prayed was reassuring.
But the younger boy's eyes were still welled up, and Peter three could already hear the soft sobs ready to flow out of his little brother. He started to panic.
"Okay! Okay! I-I'll get two, alright? Nightmare? It was a nightmare, right?" Peter one frantically nodded in response to three's question.
"Yeah, yeah, right! It's okay, bud. He'll know what to do!" And at that, Peter three scrambled back out of the room, an almost childish fear, the need for someone older and wiser, grappled at his chest. "Peter two!?" Three called as he ran to the room where the eldest brother was made to reside at his house, his stomach dropping to find it empty.
"Okay... he must be in the bathroom." Three whispered reassuringly to himself, dashing off to the room's bathroom and barging in without knocking like he always did. Finding it empty, too.
Great, so this means Peter two has gone missing, and Peter one is talking about dead people. Just that Parker luck.
Three stumbled out of his room with an uneasy hum, licking his lips and pacing around in a little circle as he thought of his next move, which he didn't have to think for for long due to in the darkness, he spotted a small note covered in sharply scrawled, but still neat handwriting.
The oldest spidey. The only person in the world that would leave a note in a house full of seemingly sleeping brothers to say where he's gone off too at three in the morning.
Peter three grabbed up the note like it was ancient scripture, his eyes flying over the text.
Said note stated as follows:
Hey, whoever kiddo who's reading this! Police thing came in, bank robbery down the road, don't swing after me, you guys just rest! I'll be back in the morning!
Love ya!
-The best biggest brother, Peter two!
Two would be out until morning. Parker luck once again, fantastic, and I was only joking before.
And as much as Peter would have liked to think about how much this sucks and how much he wanted his big brother, this wasn't the time to turn bitter when his little brother needed him.
So, swiftly, he escorted himself back to Peter one's room. Finding him huddled under the covers, tears streaming down his face.
"Hey..." Peter three whispered gently, cringing as he said the dreaded word yet again. "Yeah, two isn't here. He's out doing work and stuff. But I'm here. So tell me about this dream." Peter settled himself next to his little brother, careful to be mindful of his space, which he didn't actually need to be as one threw himself on top of him as soon as he was in arms reach.
"It's the ones about Mysterio again." One mumbled into his big brother's shoulder, shuffling. "The ones just like his illusions. It felt so real." Three could feel the boy physically shudder against his body. He placed a tentative hand on one's back, rubbing up and down.
"But they're not. That's what you gotta remember, bud. They're just stupid dreams, and they aren't real." Peter three tried to soothe his little brother. "Even though they feel really, really real at the time."
Three rested his cheek slowly on top of his little brother's head, feeling his own breath even out and slow at the touch. He reminded himself that it was fine, One just had a nightmare. They were both going to be so fine.
So Peter three rocked and cradled, wiped at tears, and hummed until the kid was calm. Three really didn't wanna ruin it, but in the back of his mind, a voice nagged him, and it was getting harder and harder to ignore.
"Hey, bud, when you woke up... you were talking about Tony. What was that all about?" Peter asked slowly, hoping he didn't make things worse after he seemingly succeeded in keeping One from freaking out for a good ten minutes.
Peter one's jaw visibly clenched at the question, but before Peter three could go off and say he didn't have to answer if he didn't want to, one answered.
"I just wanted him. He just got it, y'know? And you guys get it so well too, don't get me wrong, I love you guys. But I just..."
"Miss him?" Three finished. One nodded.
"Yeah. I miss him."
"Well, let's talk about him." Three smiled, an open invitation for One to talk about his hero.
"Pfft..." One let out a wek laugh. "I'm pretty sure you and two have heard everything I can tell you about Mister Stark. I mean, it's not like I even knew him for long-"
"Don't care, just tell it all to me, again, just to make sure I didn't miss anything the first two times." Peter three cut him off, looking expectant now.
With a few more, "Are you sures," Peter one got started on his rendition of the Tony Stark life story. Damn, Three thought, he should definitely make a documentary with all he knew. His brothers would watch it if no one else did.
Also, by the time he hit the MIT days, One was passed out, and so was Three.
Nightmares, zero, big bros, one.
"Boys! I'm home!" Peter two called out later that morning, a box of donouts in his hands as he climbed through the window, pulling it shut with a web and setting the box on the table.
"I got breakfast!" He called again, knowing the mention of breakfast, or any food for that matter, made his overly fast metabolism yielding little brothers come running from whatever corner of the house or universe they were in, so he was surprised when they DIDN'T come running.
"Boys?" The eldest spider brother called before hearing some loud snores from One's room and, with a fond smile, decided to start there.
When he opened the door, he found his two little brothers tangled up in a pile of sheets and limbs, completely knocked out. Peter two instantly went fumbling for his shitty broken phone, snapping a few pictures. How he wished he could get up there with them but he was still musky from the nights events. Damn he needed a shower.
But still he found himself leaning against the doorway, not moving for that shower.
May God, or the Gods, Two has now learned from one there is a whole hell of a lot of them, bless these kids so they don't have to suffer so much.
That's what two thought as he stood there, watching over his brothers, now sleeping peacefully.
Peter 1, Peter 2, and Peter 3 all end up in Gotham. At the same time. Because something went wrong with the magic. (Or however they got back to their universes)
I don't know what they're going to do there, but they're definitely going to be Spider-Manning
Decide what name they will have for their new legal identity:
3: Hmm, i like Andrew (actor Andrew Garfield)
2: Then i will be Tobey (actor Tobey Maguire)
1: Then.. can i be Dáinn?
2: Not over Thor yet? *Smiles gleefully*
1: *Frustrated sounds*
3: Nah just be Peter. It will be easier for you to reply to it.
Respectfully. You may not use my work, but you are welcome to share it.
Summary: Andrew is busy getting ready for The Oscars and you... Well you’re totally not laying in bed, fantasizing about how good he looked getting out of the shower.
Pairing: Andrew Garfield x Fem!Reader
Tags: Mild smut (for now), fantasizing, being lazy but sexy at the same time
Word Count: 1.7k
A/N: What words could I possibly use to describe the way this absolute angel of a man has graced us with his glorious form. Velvet???? I was on the phone with my bestie screaming all night. In an absolutely frenzied state, I had to conjure this beautiful fantasy. Do NOT send help. I want to drown in this man. Thank you @skyebounded for not only inspiring and supporting me, but editing this. Y’all be on the lookout for her Timmy fic she’s got brewin.
Part 2
Read on Ao3
This wasn’t a nap. You were not asleep. It’s not napping, you’re just resting your eyes. Face buried into the pillow, belly down, one leg hitched up, spread out across the king sized hotel bed. When you should be getting ready, but the idea of waiting behind the scenes while Andrew walked the carpet was not winning out over your current situation. Speaking of, the scent from the bathroom was wafting through the room. Soon your thoughts were drifting between scenes of your boyfriend in the shower.
All wet. His hands running the soap across his skin into a lather. Craving just touching him. Your imagination inviting you to join.
You squirm into the mattress, the plush bedding pressing against you.
Next you’re getting into the shower. His hands finding your body, pulling you into him. The heat of his mouth on your wet skin. Nibbling down your neck… to your shoulder. His hands trailing over your breasts, down your stomach, between your thighs.
The sound of the bathroom door opening stirs you from your reverie. Cracking both eyes open, you stare into the mirror beside the bed. It’s reflection offering you a perfect view of the star of your fantasy, damp, dripping, hips wrapped in a white towel. He fusses about the bathroom a bit before disappearing out of the reflection’s sight. In your lustful state, your eyes go in and out of focus, before coming to a close, your fantasies picking up where reality left off.
He saunters across the room in nothing but that towel. Rising from the bed, your naked body crosses the room to meet him. Wanting to run your hands all over his body, remove the towel from his hips, and trail your mouth down his abdomen as you sink to your knees.
Sneaking a hand down, you press your fingers against your clit, gently tilting them side to side. The shifting pressure is heavenly. As you play back the scenes in your mind, you slip your middle finger through your wetness. But you’re interrupted by the footsteps approaching the bed, jarring you back to waking reality. Feeling like you got caught with your hand in the cookie jar, well not quite but, you freeze, ever so subtly shifting your hand into a more natural position under your thigh.
“I know you’re not asleep. Don’t think you have me fooled with what you’ve been up to.” Andrew says casually. The bed sinking under his weight as he sits by your extended foot. Peeking through your lashes, you watch as he drops his shoes on the floor, socks in hand. Black dress pants covering his long legs, spread wide as he adjusts his watch, before slipping on his socks. Your eyes drink him in, while your face feigns innocence.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about…” You mumble, bringing your hands under the pillow, propping your head up.
“What’s gotten into you? You needed to be getting ready. Instead you’re lying here being naughty.”
He flips the sheet up off your naked body, letting it settle somewhere past your hip. Your face and toes scrunch in displeasure at the cool air you’re now very exposed to.
Not once looking at your face. His eyes begin to trail over your naked form. Grasping your ankles, his grip firms as he begins to slowly massage his way up your calves.
“I’m practically ready to walk out the door. All that's left is to put on my shoes and you’re nowhere close to being dressed. Look at you! Wearing absolutely… fucking… nothing…” The last three words come out as borderline moans. His breathing is tight as he struggles to stay on task. You can’t help but giggle at your effect.
“Oh. You think you’re funny?” There’s amusement in his voice, as he toys with the backs of your knees.
“Uh… yes I do.” You say with a proud smirk. “And what’s gotten into me is that I was tired and then you were walking around being so handsome and distracting! In your dashing velvet suit. I wanna pet it… you look so soft.” You pout a little as you flatter him.
“Not as soft as you…” He says, his gaze growing more intense as his touch moves up your thighs.
“Not as good looking as me either.” You snort. A yelp leaves your mouth as one of his hands comes down, slapping your ass. You look at him, incredulous. Never faltering, his gaze intent on where his hand is kneading your sore muscle. God he looks so beautiful. Hair done up in perfectly messy waves. Bold eyebrows contrasting his soft lips. The way he looks at you with such reverence. Even now, as you’re being an inconvenience. As much as you know he can’t be late, you can’t help but want to strip him bare and have your way with him, respectfully.
“Look, are you going to keep teasing me or are you going to fuck me?” You ask. He lets out a small laugh, eyes still focused on where his fingers are caressing your skin.
“Oh…I’m going to keep teasing you…” His voice is thick with lust, sending shivers down the backs of your shoulders. Letting out a sigh, your body shifts ever so slightly towards him, seeking out his touch. Desperately wanting him to satisfy the throbbing ache between your legs. But his fingers don’t budge. Tormenting your inner thigh, trailing in circles, but moving no closer.
“You know you really should be getting ready.” Andrew hums.
“Do I not look ready?” There’s a slight air of sarcasm in your voice.
“No you do not look ready to me, darling.” Taking you literally, your innuendo flies over his head.
“Well maybe you’re not looking in the right places…” Hitching your leg a bit higher to make your point, your arousal hits the cool air of the room. Andrew’s eyes fall closed for a moment as he lets out a heavy exhale.
“We really don’t have time for this love…” Comes his weak attempt to deny your invitation. His voice says one thing but his touch grows closer to where you desperately need it.
“We really do.” You whine back. Settling into your pillow, you watch him in the mirror’s reflection as he surrenders to your temptation. Lips pursing, he gently shakes his head before speaking.
“Tell me what you were thinking about.” His tone suddenly serious.
“What?” Despite your bold teasing, his question has you flustered.
“When you were touching yourself” His fingers dance across your sensitive skin, motivation, before returning to the crease of your inner thigh. Not wanting to waste a moment of your fleeting time, you muster the courage to respond to his request.
“I wanted to feel you all damp, fresh out of the shower… run my hands along your chest…” The corner of the pillow attempts to muffle your gasps as he rewards you with his touch. Two fingers run around your center, circling your clit before dragging back down to tease your entrance.
“That’s a good girl… Keep going.” His gentle praise sends another shiver through you.
“Run my hands down your stomach… drop to my knees…” Andrew slides one finger into you, gently stroking your walls. You clench around him, whining at the deliciously lacking stimulation.
“If you want more you better keep talking.” His soothing voice is only slightly threatening.
“Pull that towel off of you so I can have you in my mouth.” Your words are punctuated by excited gasps, as his slender finger caresses your walls.
“Aw, that’s sweet. You wanted to do that for me?” His voice taunting and dark.
“Yes!” You cry out as he inserts a second finger, stretching your walls. Painstakingly slow, they seek out that spot inside you. As if he doesn’t know you like the back of his hand. A fire ignites when his crooked fingers find their target.
The next words out of your mouth are lost to the pleasure washing through your body. With every push and pull, the waves ebb and flow. You’ve been reduced to a whimpering mess.
“You can stop with the fantasy, but I still want to hear you.” He commands.
“I need more… please” You whine, desperate.
“More? I’ve told you, we don’t have time for more, my love.” Infuriating. The way Andrew maintained his composure. Being so practical at a time like this.
No words came out of your mouth, just pleading cries as you shifted your hips, rocking yourself back on his fingers. His thumb began adding pressure and gentle friction to your clit.
Your hips come to a stop, surrendering to the delicious pace Andrew was setting. Bringing you rapidly toward your peak.
Hurtling higher and higher, and then… stillness.
The mounting waves fizzle. The spiraling pleasure sending you towards your climax was in a free fall. Andrew withdrew his fingers, leaving you empty. Opening your scrunched eyes, the bed shifts as he leans over you. Face to face. Finally making eye contact.
“I’m going to clean up and then I’m leaving. I will see you later, fully clothed please.” Giving you a quick kiss on your lips and then nose, he sits straight up and begins to put his shoes on. Laying there dumbfounded, you’re too aroused to fully plot the desire for revenge that is boiling inside you. Instead, you glare up at him as he stands to give himself a once over in the mirror.
“I can’t believe you!” You huff.
“Yes you can,” He responds with a chuckle, staring straight ahead, adjusting his tie.
“Be a good girl and get ready. No funny business while I’m gone. Don’t spoil the fun we’ll have later.” He looked so handsome. One eyebrow quirked up along with his smile, as he pointed a finger at you knowingly.
“Okay…” You roll your eyes, giving in to his requests.
“That’s my girl. I’ve got to dash. You’ve kept me long enough you little devil. I love you. I’ll see you later!” You met the wink he threw at you with a grin, as you watched him hurry through to wash his hands, apply cologne and head out the door.
“I love you! Good luck!” You called after him before the door shut. Checking the time, you thought better of fooling around any longer. Dragging yourself into the bathroom, you slide into the shower, excited for the promise of tonight.
