enhanced! peter parker that just can’t seem to keep his hands off you! he’s been acting so weird, so on edge, though you can’t quite place why, and you aren’t complaining much, seeing as you’ve gotten more attention in the past few days than you ever have in your life. he’s a mess, the second you come through the door. he’s waiting for you, your heartbeat echoing in his aching head, the smell of your perfume clouding his senses. by the time you reach him, fingers in his hair, hugging him after a long day, he’s gone, wasted on you. his pulse hammers at the base of his throat, his skin buzzing from your touch, already half hard just from the feeling of you so close after an agonizing few hours. he gets you straight to the bedroom, leaving a trail of your clothes down the hall, practically whining any time you even slightly pull away. finally, you’re beneath him, right where he wants you, and he is an absolute wreck. his lips burn with the intensity in which he kisses you, all teeth and tongues, his mind playing the sounds of your chaste breath on a painfully intense loop. when you brush his length, he nearly finishes on the spot, your name falling from his lips in a broken plea. “missed you so much, sweet girl, please just- oh, god, take it easy, yeah? wanna-“ he can’t even finish. your hand wraps around his pulsing cock, and he’s shooting thick ropes onto your smooth skin, chest heaving, cheeks flushed and dewy with sweat. “oh, baby, i’m sorry,” he murmurs after a moment, shaking his head at his own selfishness, “come here, okay? wanna taste you.” he buries his head between your thighs, and by the time you come undone on his tongue, he’s painfully hard again, nudging against the mattress to relieve the throbbing. “come here,” you hum, watching him through half lidded eyes, “slow down, pete. just come be with me.” he nods, hesitating before lying beside you, letting you roll on top of him, sliding down onto him with a familiar ease. his hands fly to your hips, bucking into you on instinct, but you shake your head, leaning into his neck, inhaling his warm scent. “just lay with me,” you whisper, and he twitches inside you, “you can let it go, mkay? just relax, honey. love you s’much.” and then he’s cumming again, shooting into you with a shaky exhale, from almost no contact at all. he can feel the way you clench around him, the way you drink it all in, and hear the way your breath hitches. you keep your promise though, lying there with him in the afterglow, soothing him in the way only you can until his raging arachnid senses slow down to a steady drip.
warnings. kind of bnd spoilers?? hurt/comfort, angst, violence, not proofread.
thinking about arachnid!peter parker who loses control and falls unconscious due to his arachnid biology overpowering his own.
you find him and, worried, approach him. his senses don't recognize you as his girlfriend but as an enemy. he attacks you with such force that he knocks you out to the ground, leaving you with not just a black eye but also a fractured jaw, and blood pooling on your face, along with a concussion that could’ve easily killed you before you even reached the hospital.
his human side regains control of his body a minute later, his pupils contract, revealing those beautiful brown eyes full of warmth and love that had always made you feel safe whenever you lost yourself in his gaze.
except this time, those eyes shatter. his world crumbles when he sees you on the floor, with blood staining your skin, a vivid bruise across your cheek,, and worst of all, you were completely unconscious.
peter quickly takes you into his arms, his eyes filled with tears as he realizes that the person who did this was not one of the criminals or villains he constantly fought with; it was him. his own hands had inflicted this damage on you, something that was never supposed to happen if he could just know how to control the monster inside him, as he called it.
in his tormented state, he wastes no time and rushes you to the hospital as fast as his body allows, without even asking E.V. for a status report on your vitals. his only thought is that you need to live because he will never forgive himself if you stop breathing because of him.
your pulse arrives weak and almost imperceptible at the emergency room. your boyfriend lies to the doctors, saying he found you like this in your shared apartment, unable to utter the horrifying truth, that he did this to you with his own bare hands.
the doctors rushed you to the operating room almost immediately after taking quick x-rays that showed the severe damage you were facing.
peter doesn't know what to do with himself when he realizes everything he caused you by not being more careful, by not knowing how to control his abilities.
his life falls apart during the agonizing hours you spend in surgery; intrusive thoughts like he shouldn't be living if he can't even protect the only person he has in his life plague his mind. his heart pressed tightly against his ribcage, pounding as he keeps thinking that you could be dead right now if he hadn't regained control of his body.
why does this keep happening to him? he asks himself.
was losing his parents, his uncle, tony, aunt may, and the fact that no one else remembered him not enough suffering? did he also have to lose you because of him?
after ten horrible hours, which might have seemed like an eternity from his point of view, they tell him that while you survived the surgery, you would have to be in an induced coma until the injuries they had found in your brain and the rest of your wounds on your face healed enough for you to be able to breathe without the need of a ventilator.
when they finally let peter see you, he breaks down in such a painful cry that a nurse has to hold him tightly as he weeped uncontrollably on her shoulder, begging for forgiveness. for not protecting you as he’d always promised after saying those three little words, words that now burned too much to even speak aloud.
a week passes, and peter never leaves you alone, bringing extra clothes so he never has to leave the hospital. the doctors bring you out of the coma, but you still can't speak or reassure him that it wasn't his fault, that you knew he would never hurt you like that.
it takes another week before your brain recovers enough from the trauma for you to finally be able to pick up a pencil and write.
«Stop blaming yourself, I know you would never hurt me if you were in control, and i still love you even so»
reading the note, peter breaks down completely, realising all the emotions that had been building up inside him. you reach out to take his trembling hand in yours, squeezing it to assure him that no part of you blamed him for what had happened, and you would keep on telling him as much as necessary until he finally believes it.
author's note. this came to me last night, i felt like i needed to write it after seeing so much smut with arachnid!peter and not enough angst about him losing control! let me know what you think <3
18+ mdni. cw! cunnilingus with post bnd! peter parker, praising, cum eating/spitting out, cumming w/o touch, men whimpering, switch!peter, half detailed smut, long drabble that it doesn’t seem to be a drabble
kisses placed on your thigh as his knee touched the ground, his body was on fire and so were yours. the adrenaline in his body was eating him alive, the mutation not only changed his body, but the trajectory of what his hormones used to stablize.
gentle moans came out of you as peter let out little grumbles from your skin, you were getting wet, and so is his pleading eyes. “pete— hey, fuck..” he placed another kiss on the outside of your cunt as he lightly kissed a part of it. “stop teasin’” as you took out an annoyance on that, his lips twitched. “sorry, sorry. fuck.”
“you’re just—“ kiss. “ah yeah, sorry, you taste so good.” he licked a stripe of your sensitive skin and a moan came out of you, “that’s, that’s my girlll—“ he chuckled before locking eyes with you once more as he took his tongue circling around your bud, sucking a small part of it, licking it right after.
your body twitched as your chest rose up and down, “you okay? i got you, (name), tell me if it’s too much.” he left your sensitive cunt and kissed the skin beside it, “so perfect.. hmp— god,” he whimpered once. your thigh was shaking, goodness, it hasn’t even been five minutes since he went down. perhaps it’s the mutation, but he seemed to find the spots where you’re most weak at.
his lips wandered around as you realized he was just soothing the shakiness from you, “peter please, just keep going.” hearing that request, he paused and looked up at you again with those eyes, and went back to the sensitive spot. slurp! he was like an animal that was thirsty, eating up whatever that came from your body. “god— fuck! fuck, that’s ah!”
the sound from you that took rhythm from the intensity made from him made you feel overwhelmed, your thigh wrapped around his head as your fingers sinked into his head. “shit, shit! pete, gonna c—“ before you could finish that sentence, your release had already got out.
your back and head was pushed back to the couch as he pulled away from your cunt as he licked the corners of his lips, spitting it out back. “sorry.” peter just looked at you and tilted his head. “hm? i liked it.” you stared at him as you could see the cum on the carpet. “goodness peter.” you threw your head back, as he chuckled and moved up to kiss you, which you returned. “can i go again? please?”
goodness god.
property of @angieszn. for the love of god, do not translate, post to another page/web, and absolutely do not feed to a.i.
Summary: The only way to prove your value at the Daily Bugle is an interview with Spider-Man, the same Spider-Man who, no one can get a clear close-up of, no one expect Peter Parker...
Warnings: Fluff, small bit of angst
Word Count: Approx. 4,000
(I imagined Andrews Spidey but ofc imagine who you want)
divider by: @cafekitsune 💗
Your heels muster a satisfying click every time you walk. It makes you feel powerful, it makes you feel important.
"Important" is a funny word to describe yourself at this moment, because truth be told, you're not actually important at all.
Today is your first "official" unofficial first day at the Daily Bugle, not as a journalist, but as an intern! You hope to be doing important things one day. You hope to even be a journalist one day! So if all you'll be doing for these first couple of years days is catching coffee and standing by the printer awkwardly waiting to be told to do something, so be it!
No one has to know that you've never actually worked at a newspaper before, I mean, you're only 19. I'm sure it's implied.
Likewise, no one has to know that your heels are from the local thrift shop that you bought because you wanted to seem professional and they were the tallest ones you could find.
They were pretty professional anyways if no one looked too close and saw the deteriorating suede.
The revolving doors were heavy as you pushed your way through them and into the building.
You took the elevator up, and as the doors opened, you could already hear Mr. Jonah Jameson screaming at someone about a deadline. Oh, how you loved journalism! You would consider yourself an optimist if something can go right, it will go right, Murphy's law or whatever.
“AH, there you are, you’re late!” Mr. Jameson mercifully stops screaming at some poor reporter to turn his attention to you.
“I start at 8. It’s 7:45?”
“What is this interview? No time for disputes!” He moves along and leaves you bewildered there before turning around and gawking at your distance, baffled that you aren't following.
You take the hint and follow behind swiftly.
“This is Ben Urich!” he points at a man nearby.
“Veteran reporter here, and he'll be in charge of you until further notice!”
“Okay, I—” Before you can get any questions out, you've noticed Mr. Jameson has swiftly disappeared. You stand there baffled only for a second before Mr. Urich starts rapidly speaking.
“Okay, listen here…” He cocks an eyebrow in your direction.
You offer your name, and he repeats it with an “OK” before continuing.
“I'll be overseeing you until further notice. As Jameson mentioned, I'll let you read all my articles and show you the editing process. You'll essentially sit on my shoulder while I carry out my duties! But try to hover, eh?”
You nod rabidly and try to stop your foot from tapping against the floor to calm your anxiety. Mr. Urich looks down, taking notice, but doesn't say anything before continuing over to a different section of the Bugle.
“This is where you'll find the coffee, the fridge, and the printer.” Mr. Urich gestures to a small open-concept room.
A timid man who can’t be older than 18 stands there looking mindlessly around.
Mr. Urichs takes a deep breath before continuing.
“Please refrain from standing there awkwardly. We have enough interns doing that already—AS YOU CAN SEE!” He raises his voice near the end, startling the man near the printer.
“David! Go make yourself useful and fix that copy printer!”
“Yes, sir!” the shy man’s voice cracks when he responds, and a small giggle escapes your throat, Mr. Urich’s eyes however, seem very piercing as they lock back in on yours, so you are quick to shut it.
Suddenly he lets out a loud laugh, holding his hand to his chest and throwing his head back. You're so startled by this that you gasp and jump slightly.
“OK!” Mr. Urich snipes, no longer laughing.
“I like my coffee black, one cream, no sugar.” The coffee shop is—
“Three blocks away?” you offer. You passed one on the way here, taking note of it. You knew you'd be running coffees. Now, however, you were mentally checking off standing by the printer curiously off your checklist.
Mr. Urich smirks at your comment.
“That's good!” He says.
“Be back soon! ” Already gone before you can give a response.
Something peculiar about the city is how fast it can change. You had walked past the coffee shop on your way to the Daily Bugle and couldn't have been inside the Bugle for more than 20 minutes before you were running out to that same coffee shop. In those 20 minutes, it seems the coffee shop must have hit some gold mine because a man's back smacks you straight in the forehead upon you entering the door, you suddenly realize that the line meets you.
At the door.
You groan in response to this, letting your foot tap mindlessly away at the floor to ease your anxiety.
The line took only about 30 MINUTES to get through! Once you were through, however, you had almost forgotten Mr. Urich's coffee order. Geez, what a disaster that would've been. On your way out you couldn't help but notice a young man stumbling into the Daily Bugle with a camera and several pictures of… Spider-Man? In his hand?
"That's good," you thought to yourself. You knew Mr. Jameson had been looking for someone with clear pictures of Spider-Man, although no one in town seemed to be able to get a clear picture of the bug boy before, let alone several…
You took a second to ponder this before realizing you had taken half an hour to get one coffee and hurriedly rushed your way back to the Bugle.
As you were profusely apologizing to Mr. Urich about the time it took you to get his coffee, you could hear the man that had walked in earlier talking to Betty.
“My name is Peter Parker. I’m a photographer.” He spoke softly, she nodded at him suspiciously before handing him a check and sending him on his merry way. Your eyes couldn't help but wander and land on him while speaking.
His eyes met yours, and he gave you a small smile before continuing.
Strange. You felt an odd pull towards him, your intuition telling you to look deeper.
“Just don’t let it happen again,” Mr. Urich’s voice pulls you out of your thinking suddenly.
“Huh?”
“I will call you over when I need you, okay? Don’t take that long again.”
“Because I can control coffee lines?” is what you wanted to say, but found no courage to do so, so you just nodded with a smile as he walked away.
The rest of the day at the Bugle was not horrible.
Mr. Urich only asked you to get coffee three more times, and you did get to see a portion of his paper,
once.
For a couple of seconds.
While you were passing by—anyways—you found Mr. Jameson hitting the printer with the bottom of his fist later and, found it the perfect time to ask him your question from earlier.
“Stupid print—AH! Who are you?” Your smile suddenly dropped as you tried to not let that comment affect you. You quickly reintroduced yourself before asking,
“I was just wondering about the front page of the latest paper. I just think it's unfair to call him that. I mean, he's clearly only helping people—and anyways, I had some alternative ideas that I think could be good for the front cover and—”
Mr. Jameson's laugh stopped your rambling short, as he walked away still laughing, you could feel your cheeks sting red from embarrassment. It was a stupid thought, really, but it was worth a shot anyways, right? You turned to walk away when Mr. Jameson suddenly appeared right in front of you, now it was your turn to be startled.
“AH”
“I’ll tell you what! Get me an interview with Spider-Man, and I'll consider your… ideas,” he spoke suspiciously with a cocked eyebrow. Your smile suddenly appeared back all at once—such a simple task—just an interview with Spider-Man, Spider-Man, who no one can get a clear picture of, Spider-Man, who has never stuck around for a quick chat with the police after saving someone, let alone a whole interview with a journalist…
You let out a deep sigh as you came to the inevitable conclusion that
You were definitely not getting an interview with Spider-Man.
You were definitely getting an interview with Spider-Man.
On your way home out of the Daily Bugle, you had stumbled into a store with some delicious bagels, and on your way out, you were so entranced by this delicious bagel that you didn't notice when you had stumbled into a hidden alleyway. You did, however, notice Spider-Man jump down from the top of a building and take his mask off.
I guess he seemingly thought no one was around, silly silly bugboy. Anyways, your bagel now lies gloomily on the floor, evidence of your surprise. Spiderman also seems very shocked, as his eyes are currently bulging out of his head, as they have been since he noticed you.
This was going to be easier than you thought.
Exploit your newfound knowledge of Spider-Man to definitely score an interview.
Interview Spider-Man.
Relay your interview to Mr. Jameson.
Become top journalist at the Daily Bugle.
Huh, everything seemed to be falling into place—this was going to be easier than you thought, especially since Spider-Man was—
“Peter Parker!” Your voice broke through the silence. Peter stayed in shock as you yelled his name and jogged up to him.
“Peter!” jog. “Parker!” jog.
“Hi,” you spoke, slightly out of breath. Peter was presumably still in shock, as he made no sudden movements, suddenly his mouth opened and his hands rose slightly like he was going to speak.
“I…” he started, but made no effort to finish. You offered him your hand and your name while he remained frozen in time, then he reluctantly shook your hand before finally speaking.
“This is not… I’m… This is a costume,” he said slowly. You cocked an eyebrow in his direction.
“I saw you jump from the top of that building, Peter,” you said, mimicking his slow manner of speaking. The first thing you noticed about Peter was how he spoke with his hands.
“Listen, you're in danger. You can't tell anyone who I am. Gosh, you shouldn't—no one knows this!”
“I won’t tell anyone, you don’t have to worry, ok?” He let out a deep breath then, offering you a small smile.
“Buttttt…” you said, dragging out the word. His smile suddenly fell, and his eyes drooped sarcastically.
“I’m an intern at the Daily Bugle. You were just there, and probably saw me apologizing for getting coffee late. Gosh, anyway! I need an interview with you!” Peter's eyes suddenly widened.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. I mean, it’s dangerous. The whole mask thing is so no one knows who I am. I can’t have anything being linked back to me.”
“Well, it would be an interview for Spider-Man,” you said matter-of-factly, pointing at the mask he held in his hand.
“I’m not too sure about this.”
“Please, just five minutes, that's all I ask. I won't put anything in that you don't want me to—this would just be so helpful to me. I really need this!” Peter gave you a sympathetic look then.
“Okay, fine. “Five minutes, nothing less, nothing more,” he said reluctantly.
“YES! Okay, can you meet me at the Daily Bugle’s rooftop tomorrow at 9am?” He gave you a small nod in return.
“Okay, perfect. I promise you won’t regret this, Spider-Ma—Peter.” He winced at your words.
“Don’t be late, okay? ” you said with a small tilt of your head. Peter tried not to notice how that small tilt made his stomach flutter.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he said back with a full smile this time.
The last thing Peter noticed about you was how you had lipstick smudged right below your lip, the bagel really had been that good. He wanted to take his hand and swipe it away for you, but he immediately thought about how disrespectful that would be, even if you were so pretty, he thought.
As you turned to walk away, he suddenly spoke up.
“WAIT! Um, you have something,” he spoke, gesturing to his own mouth.
“Oh gosh, that’s embarrassing,” you said, swiping at the bottom of your mouth, managing somehow to only smudge the lipstick more. Peter stepped closer suddenly and took your chin in his hand, swiping his thumb over the spot, transferring it to his suit instead.
“There,” he said.
The last thing you noticed about Peter was that he has a very deep set of brown eyes.
“Thank you,” you whisper.
“Yeah,” he whispered back. You cleared your throat, deciding to be the one to break the moment.
“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Peter.” Peter smiled at your words.
“Yeah, I’ll see you.” He whispered back.
Walking home felt kind of like walking on a cloud. Spider-Man was cute, you thought. You weren't going to mess up this interview by kissing him or anything, but you held on to that thought to carry you home.
You saw a couple of townhouses across from you on your walk home and before suddenly noticing, Peter? Peter was climbing a tree, out of costume, lunging towards what appeared to be a cat, before gently cradling the small kitten in his arms and climbing back down, handing the kitten to an old lady.
“Thank you, young man!”
“Of course it's no problem,” he said, smiling at her. He really was adorable. His eyes wandered and found yours across the street. You gave him a small smile and noticed he opened his mouth to say something. He turned to the old lady and walked her inside her home, mumbling something about calling him if she needed anything, before jogging his way across the street and to you.
“Hey!”
“Hey, I didn't realize you were a helping hand off-duty.”
“It’s not really a job to me,” he muttered. You laughed in response.
“Let me walk you home.” He offered.
“No, that’s alright, I ca—
“No, please! Sorry I didn't mean to cut you off, it's just…I should've offered earlier." He said, scratching the back of his head nervously.
“Well, okay then, Peter.”
The walk home started off silent, until Peter began asking you questions about yourself, what interning was like at the Daily Bugle, if you found any good food spots around there, and why you wanted to be a journalist.
You found it really easy to talk to Peter, he listened, he asked questions, and he genuinely was interested in what you had to say. That was nice for a change.
Peter thought you were one of the most interesting girls he's ever met, he loved the passion you had for your work and how you followed up every one of his questions with one of your own.
Did he like being Spider-Man? What was his family like? What did he want to do?
You finally made it to your apartment only a few minutes later, and you turned to fully face him.
“Thank you, Peter. I don’t know what I would have done without you.” He smiled at your words, looking down at his shoes.
“Of course, any time.” He looked up at you then, and you stayed looking into each other's eyes for a lingering moment before he spoke.
“Hey, maybe we cou—” his voice was cut short by the sound of blaring sirens speeding by. Peter turned instantly to the sound and then back to you with his eyebrows furrowed.
You gave him a sympathetic smile back.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he spoke hurriedly, and you laughed.
“Go, Spidey,”
he smiled at your words before rushing off into a hidden corner. A flash of red and blue leaped from building to building suddenly, Spider-Man dove off into the danger, and you're afraid he might've taken your heart with him.
It was 9:30am. Your heels tapped nervously whilst on the roof of the Daily Bugle. He was late, of course. You couldn't blame him I mean, he was probably saving someone from a burning building or rescuing a cat from a tree or some—
“Hi.” Well, Spider-Ma—Peter was now in front of you.
“You’re late,” you grumbled.
“I know, I'm sorry there was a cat—” his voice fell short at the sound of your laughter.
“What?” he snapped.
“Nothing, I just thought you were late because you were saving a kitten from a tree, and that’s truly exactly what you were doing,” you giggled. Then you noticed something, a bouquet of flowers, your quirked an eyebrow at him.
“These are for you,” he shyly said, bringing the beautiful array of yellow and white to you.
“That isn’t exactly customary for interviews Peter,” He looked down at your words, slightly embarrassed.
“No! I mean im grateful, I love them they’re my favorite flowers I don’t even know how you—
“You mentioned them, yesterday” He said looking up and into your eyes. You gave him a small smile in return, he remembered.
“Okay well, I just wanted you know, when other people interview you and you bring them flowers, they may find it a bit… Odd?”
“I don’t plan on having anyone else interview me,” he said softly. You felt a tug at your heart at those words,
damn you Peter and your ever attempt at thieving my heart, you thought.
You gestured to the two chairs near you and followed behind Peter as you both sat down.
“Okay, Peter, can I record this interview?”
“Yes.”
“Perfect.” Peter smiled at those words—perfect.
“Okay, Spider-Man, I want to start by thanking you for your time. I know it’s very precious, so I’ll jump right in.” Peter gave a quick nod at your words.
“Are you aware that your latest fight cost the city 7,000 dollars in repair damages?”
Peter's jaw hung open, and his head shook suddenly, he almost gave himself whiplash. It was a hilarious sight.
“What!” he screeched.
“What?” you said back, unaffected.
"I—no, no, I didn't know that," he said back, still in disbelief.
“Okay, so you are unaware of the damages your fighting inflicts on the city. Do you purposefully avoid the news so as to not know the extent to which your damages cause destruction and harm to the city? Peter shook his head violently and stood up.
“I—I don't understand. I thought you said you wanted an interview,” he stuttered out.
“Correct. This is an interview.” You said, nodding your head slowly.
“No. This is an interrogation!" You rolled your eyes at his dismay.
“I’m sorry, Peter. What did you expect? I mean, you know what the Bugle thinks of you.” You said scoffing.
“Well, what do you think of me?” He exasperatedly said.
You let out a deep sigh.
“What I think really isn't important here,” you spoke, lowering your head. Peter noticed. He thought back to how you told him about how your first day had gone, the morning before and how you were content getting coffee if it meant one day you'd be doing greater things.
“It's important to me! I care what you think!” he exclaimed.
You scoff at his words before getting up as well. You took a glance at his pretty eyes and could feel your own swelling up in a salty ocean. You cursed yourself for ruining this.
“This was dumb, I’m sorry I wasted your time, I won't publish anything," you said, hanging your head low in defeat before grabbing the recorder and walking to the door,
a web suddenly grabbed your waist and with a flick of a wrist spun you back right around and into his arms,
you let out a small gasp that was cut short when Peters’ lips instantaneously met yours in a tender longing kiss. his tongue explored the inside of your mouth and his eyebrows furrowed as you thought he must be trying to swallow you whole, you hummed into the kiss, his hands come up to hold your face and you held them as they melt into your face, his lips moved delicately and desperately against yours, your knees felt like jello and your whole body leaned into him, kissing him back as a way of saying thank you for not letting me fall right now, his hands hesitantly pulled your lips away from his, inches from your face as he whispered,
“Fine…let’s do it your way.”
AN: Thank you for reading!! Not heavily proof-read so sorry for any mistakes!! 💗
Chocolate lava cake with Peter Parker!!!! Any letter (or all if ur feeling kind) I need this please please please thank you
You need to pick a letter next time but I love Peter so I picked three I wanted :)
₊˚⊹ ♡ . NSFW ALPHABET (D, S, Y) w/ PETER PARKER
₊˚⊹ ♡ . MDNI 18+. warnings — fem!reader, voyeurism, peter being a perv and a peeping tom, m. masturbation, overstimulation, crying, oral (m. and f. receiving), p in v
D is for DIRTY SECRET — pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of his
That little perv has swung by your window countless times, usually just under the guise of “checking in on you” or “making sure everything’s alright” because he is the neighborhood hero, of course—and you do live in the neighborhood, right? You were always going about your normal day-to-day when he saw you, brushing your teeth, typing on your laptop in the living room, rushing to put your shoes on because you were late to go somewhere. Those moments made him like you more and more, seeing you just be.
That is, until that one time he caught you changing. It seemed like he’d swung past the very moment your bra had fallen to the ground. He was a gentleman, averted his eyes and left… after a minute… or two. After you were fully dressed again. (Fine. Peter watched you change.) Poor guy (pervert) was rock hard the whole rest of his patrol, swinging around the city with a massive bulge in the front of his suit. Thank god he didn’t end up having to stop any crime—that would’ve been awkward (deserved.) The sight of your tits is the only thing that filled his head when he was strangling his own dick for the next… month? No, much longer. Until the next time he saw you like that.
S is for STAMINA — how many rounds can he go for? how long does he last?
Super-stamina… self explanatory, no? (I’m gonna explain anyway.) Sometimes it seems like Peter can go forever, as long as you’ll let him—and sometimes he lasts too long, focuses too intensely how good you feel when he’s rutting into you, closes his eyes and just gets completely lost in it. He’ll go until you’re both dripping with sweat, the sheets soaked through, and you’re struggling to come down from your third orgasm, shaking and spasming and whining, but he just doesn’t let up. It takes you saying his name in a choked sob: “Peter,” for him to finally open his eyes and look down at you, all disheveled underneath him, tears spilling from the corners of your eyes—for him to come back to reality and with a long, breathy moan, he finally cums at the sight of you. And if we’re being honest, he would’ve gone longer if you hadn’t been desperately exhausted and fucked out.
Y is for YEARNING — how high is his sex drive?
Quite literally wants you—needs you—all the time, but he can be reserved about it, especially in the beginning.
When he swings by your place after a patrol late at night, desperately wanting to let off some steam, he doesn’t want to say anything about it. You’ll have a perfectly nice night until you notice the way Peter’s jaw has been set all funny while you’ve been walking around in your cute little PJs, nipples perked up from the cold air. He doesn’t wanna “ruin a wholesome night,” but you saw the look on his face at least twenty minutes ago, and have been pushing your chest out ever since then. When he finally admits he’s tense, and you suck him off to help him relax, he insists on returning the favor. He feels bad receiving without giving back—so every time you swallow his cum, you find yourself halfway off the edge of the bed with his head buried between your legs.
The longer you’re together, the more confident he feels just snatching you up so the two of you can run away, giggling and making out, to your bedroom or some other private corner of whatever you are, so he can release tension by bouncing you on his cock. He’s so strong, you don’t find yourself having to do any of the work when you don’t want to. Peter will fuck you senseless, and then kiss you long and sweet and tell you: “Thanks :)” with that grin and glint in his eye, like you did him a favor. All you can do is nod numbly in response, still dazed.
The question clangs painfully against the back of your clenched teeth when Peter mumbles ‘mhmm?’ for the fifth time throughout your story. The sudden urge to question his affections almost unbearable as you stand off to the side of his desk, still sweaty and in your outside shoes having been in a rush to tell him about your day. Heart leaping with joy over the compliment you’d received from a classmate in your poetry workshop.
“And then he bent me over and fucked me on the profs desk while everyone watched”
“Mhmm”
At least Ned and MJ were listening where they lounged about the room, albeit rosy in the cheeks. They encourage you to continue as if any of this could be remotely true.
“In fact, he asked me when we’d be able to make sweet love again.”
“Mhmm”
“Figured I could pencil a date in for next week seeing as I’ll probably be single by then”
“Yeah? That’s great junebug.”
Peter has not once lifted his gaze away from his laptop. The light of the screen reflecting off his glasses, casting a soft blue haze over his features.
Your two friends sensing the oncoming argument scuttle off silently to the kitchen with the excuse of wanting snacks.
“Petey?”
“Yes my love?”
“You know, if you want to break up all you have to do is say so.”
“Mhmm.”
You’re halfway to the door when his brows pinch inward. Shaking his head quickly, Peter struggles to rewind the conversation in between a slew of agonizingly complicated equations. His brain chugging along much slower than he’d like, than he's used to.
“Wait what?”
“I think I'll head home for the day, see you later," you mumble. You had some lectures to catch up with anyway.
He finally breaks away from the device, lowering the lid slightly “Wait bug what did you say?"
“Nothing.”
“No, you said something. Repeat it for me"
“I shouldn’t have to repeat it. You should have heard it the first time.” You spit over your shoulder, reaching for the doorknob.
Peters up, trailing behind you on long legs “Now hold on a minute, that's not fair.”
“And I wouldn’t be so bothered if this was a once in a while thing, but it's becoming an everytime thing! I come back after a good day or even a bad one, and I try telling you about it, and you sit there more focused on the performance of listening than actually listening." And what a performance it was. Leaning in, nodding with the occasional smile or eye contact or frown or gasp or laugh. All without actually having heard a word you said.
You listened to any and everything he had to share with enthusiasm and even questions to follow.
“That’s not true! I was listening.”
You cross your arms over your chest with a sceptical tic in your jaw “Ok, then what did my classmate say about my poetry?”
Peter stops in his tracks “um”
“quickly.”
“He said it was lovely?” You had used the word lovely in your story, but the questioning pitch of his voice has you fleeing all the same. He didn't know for sure if that was what you said.
Your fingers have just wrapped around the cool metal of the knob when all of a sudden your wrist is pinned to the door by a sticky white substance. A beat of silence resonates through the room before you're whirling on your boyfriend with twice as much annoyance as before.
“You did not just web me!” You yell
“Everything's happening too fast!” Peter wails, arm still extended from trapping you, pupils wide.
“Well allow me to excuse myself while the boy genius catches up,” you say, going for your keys. You'd use them to saw your way free, no matter how long it took. But as soon as you wiggle them free from your pocket, another web shoots out and sticks your free arm to the other side of the door. The keys clank uselessly to the ground. “Stop doing that!”
“Stop trying to leave!”
“If I don’t go now ill be late for my date with someone who actually cares about what I have to say!”
“I do care about what you have to say!" The wet rasp of his confession immediately extinguishs your anger. With a predatory focus, you hone in on the abrupt glossy sheen of his eyes, the rosy tint creeping up his neck. The way he starts to shift his weight from foot to foot, rubbing his plams against the abrasive material of his jeans. His lips tremble, pale with the force of his trying to keep them still. "I-" He chokes. Stops. Gaze snapping up to the ceiling before running to you. Working his jaw back and forth as if the words are fighting him, refusing to be spoken, "I've just been really fumbling with the whole juggling school and spidermanning lately.”
The sentence seems to zap what little energy he has. He stumbles in what you assume to be relief, to sit down on his bed. Removing his glasses, he tosses them without care, pressing his knuckles into his eyes and scrubbing at them cruely “…’m tired”
You watch in silence as Peter closes in on himself. He uses his hands to muffle his sniffles, but in doing so, allows a few salty drops to escape and slip along the slope of his nose. Falling from the tip, a row of tiny dark splots begins to form on his shirt. His tears only drip faster as the minutes tick by. His chest stuttering erratically with the task of inhaling and exhaling.
It makes you feel shitty but you don't try to comfort him.
You remain still and quiet as to not disturb the moment in fear that if Peter remembers you're there, he'll attempt to compose himself when all he really needs is to let it out.
When he's cried himself dry, you probe lightly “are you eyes hurting you again?”
He doesn't raise his head. You're faced with knots and tangles of brown “mhmm.”
“words please parker.”
“So much” he gasps, seemingly renewed with sorrow.
This is the boy, you realize, the one Aunt May has told you about amongst the shadows and hush of night. When you sleep over on weekends and wake up longing for a cold glass of water, slipping from bed a little while before dawn only to find her already up, never having actually gone to bed.
The boy who tries to shield his gentle soul behind humour and smarts. Who often takes on much more than he can handle to satisfy others, and is content to crush himself beneath the weight of responsibility if only to let one more person rest easy that day. The one who yearns to please above all else.
Peter often suffers from aches and pains, comes with the territory, but his facial discomfort has been a persistent problem of late. A deep soreness in his cheekbones, temples, behind his eyes, that no pain killer seemed to relieve.
“temple massage?”
“Please?”
With a final sniffle, Peters back on his feet. Swaying over, he makes quick work of freeing you. Pressing shy kisses of apology to your wrists.
No longer having it in you to be upset, you swat him back towards the bed, getting comfortable in your usual postions. Your back propped up on the pillows, Peter sprawled across your lap, face plastered against your tummy. His arms loop around your thighs, fingers playing with the stiching on your pants.
Retrieving the oil and comb from his sidetable, you set to work untangling his hair before you get to the real job of massaging his scalp and temples. A repetitive activity that allows you both time to think about what you've been truly wanting to say.
“You make me feel so invisible sometimes." You start. Peters' hair is soft despite being so uncared for. You comb back his bangs, cupping his face gently and shifting it to look up at you "like it doesn’t matter if I’m here or not. I know you're a busy person, and i accept and love that part of you. But all i ask is five minutes where we act like I'm not some annoyance.”
Insecurity was something you'd fought tooth and nail to rid yourself of over the course of your relationship. Not only a genius but a superhero , being interested in a mere arts major certainly took a toll on the psyche. Sometimes, you caught yourself slipping back into not so nice thoughts and behaviours.
A flash of hurt strikes across Peters face. When he speaks, warmth puffs under the hem of your shirt “I’m sorry. I'm not doing it on purpose. I love having you around and hearing about your day. It's the most relaxing part of my own."
“That’s why you need to tell me when you’re feeling overwhelmed so I can support you in the way you need. I never want you to feel like that.” Like there's nobody in his corner paying attention to his needs.
You accept the apology and continue with your work of destressing your boyfriend. His eyes fall shut after a time and you think he's fallen asleep, familiar with post cry exhaustion when,
“He said you write with patience, giving every word the chance to be what it wants to be” Peter whispers.
“Now, was that before or after he stuck his tongue down my throat?”
“Bug” he groans, springing up. He playfully shoves you back with an exaggerated scowl. You roll to your side, giggling at your own antics. Peter closes in. Slotting a thigh between your legs to lay his body against yours, smothering you with his elevated temperature.
“Trick question! It wasn’t his tongue he stuck down my throat.”
Another howl of disgust rips free from Peter “I hate you!”
Summary: Every day you have been staring at him. The guy you had a crush on but you could never have. One day, on your way home you are saved by the one and only Spider-Man. And you finally feel like you have a friend.
You stared at Peter.
Could he be any more attractive?!
You were supposed to be listening to the teacher but you just couldn't.
Thankfully, Mr Parker decided to sit right in front of said teacher so it wouldn't be that obvious that you were looking.
He was paying attention in class, as should you, but you just couldn't bring yourself to it.
Watching Peter's hair move as he wrote, watching his eyes as he paid attention and focused was much more interesting.
You let out a sigh as you heard the ring, class ended, and so did your daydream.
And now, you could head home.
But first, restroom time.
You headed into a stall when you heard others enter.
"Did you see Y/N staring at Peter again?"
"Yeah, how stupid is she? Thinking he would go for her?!" another girl said, you recognised their voices, you would say they were your bullies but you rather not call them anything to give them attention.
But their words did hurt.
Because you knew they were true.
Peter would never look at you.
So, you had to keep on staring at him from afar.
When the girls left, you waited a good ten minutes before leaving as well.
You hopped on the bus and home you headed.
When you got off the bus and started walking home you felt as if someone was following you.
You checked behind yourself a couple of times and did see a man following you. Thankfully, there was a shop close by, so you headed in.
Pretending to be looking at the items, you tried to see if the man left you or if he is in the store with you.
You even asked the cashier girl for help but all she said:
'Who would kidnap your ugly ass anyway?' before she continued to check her phone.
You left and let out a sigh of relief when the man seemed to be gone.
But that is how it was, seemed.
You took two turns before you saw the man yet again.
You let out a sigh, and you were kind of out of ideas now. You knew you needed to find a crowded place, but would anyone help you?
When you took another turn, someone grabbed your jacket and yanked you back, making you fall and hit your head a little on the ground.
The man was saying something and you could see the small pocket knife in his hand.
Then something red came into the picture, and the man was gone.
You blinked a couple of times before finally sound came back and the ringing of your ears stopped.
This is when you saw Spider-Man fighting the guy. The guy managed to get one cut in which made you shriek as if he cut you.
But soon, the guy was on the floor and the police were on their way.
You let out a sigh as Spider-Man turned to you, "Are you okay?" he asked. "Did he hurt you?" but you could only stare at the wound on his arm.
"You are hurt."
"It is nothing."
"You saved me, thank you. Let me help you, I live close by." you grabbed his arm and without thinking, you guided him to your place.
Only when you were in front of him holding some disinfectant to his wound is when you noticed just what you were doing.
"Sorry. You probably don't need my help," you said as you watched him. "You can go... the window," you said pointing and it made him focus on you instead of looking around in your home. "Thank you for saving me."
"Why are you walking home alone?" he asked.
"Well, it isn't late and I have to get home somehow."
"Did you notice him before he attacked you?"
"I did. I went to a store, and asked for help but..."
"They didn't help you?"
"The cashier said I'm too ugly to get kidnapped so..." you shrugged your shoulders.
"That's awful! What about your boyfriend?" why was he asking these questions?
"I don't have one. But you saved me so, it's all good."
"You should be careful. Ask someone to walk with you if you have to."
"I'm okay. Thank you for worrying. Go and save others." you headed to your window and opened it for him.
You could hear him letting out a sigh.
"I just want you to be safe, Y/N." your eyes widened, how did he know your name? As if he too realized what he just said and bolted out of your window.
You couldn't speak as you watched him swing away.
You couldn't help but wonder, how did he know your name?
---
The next day, you tried again to focus in class and after, you headed for the library.
It was later than you expected when you were finally able to get out of the building and head home.
You took a different route this time, however.
"You shouldn't be walking alone." you nearly jumped out of your skin at the sudden voice beside you.
You turned and saw Spider-Man next to you, casually walking.
"You nearly killed me!"
"Sorry, I thought you heard me!"
"I didn't! You landed like a leaf, I couldn't hear you at all!" you said as you gave him an angry look before you continued to walk.
"Long day?" he was quick to follow you.
"Yeah, had to stay at the library. For you?"
"Oh, no rather quiet today, I prefer that."
"How's your arm?"
"Better! Thank you! And how are you? I see you are on a different route."
"Yeah... after yesterday I prefer the more crowded one."
"Understandable." a silence fell between you two as you continued to walk home. People often stopped him for pictures and you weren't sure if you should stop with him or what.
Soon, you two reached your home.
"Uh, thank you for walking me home, but you really don't have to. I can take care of myself."
"No problem. It is my duty as a superhero to help." you smiled then you remembered something that had been bothering you for the entire day.
"How did you know my name?" you could see him freeze for a moment.
"Oh, it is my duty as a superhero."
"Seems like you have a lot of duties. So, you know most people's names?"
"Not all of course, but I know many."
"Ah, okay. Have a good day then." you offered him one last smile before heading inside.
Why did you let yourself believe that you were special? Even just for a moment.
Of course, he would know most people.
He is a superhero! He saves people. You were only one out of the many.
---
However from that day on, almost every day, he walked you home. He was honestly very sweet and kind, but you felt guilty for taking up his time.
But he didn't seem to mind it, and you were certainly not going to tell him to stop.
He was your only friend.
And you didn't want to ruin it.
So, you spent your days daydreaming about Peter Parker, walking home with Spider-Man, and arriving home before repeating everything.
Your life was boring, but who else could say that Spider-Man was their friend?
Not many, you bet.
Peter on the other hand felt happy and sad at the same time.
It's been a long time now since he wanted to talk to you, and when he was finally able to, he had a mask separating the two of you.
He was too nervous to talk to you as Peter Parker, but Spider-Man feared nothing.
And to think he almost blew everything when he said your name...
At least now he could be closer to you, not in the way he wanted to, but it was something.
It became your normal, meeting Spider-Man and when you didn't, you knew he had something going on.
One late evening, you were walking home alone. Losing track of time after another long day, what was new?
You went into a convenience store grabbing some quick food before heading to the bus. You got on the bus and sat down at the back.
At the next stop, a rather familiar face got onto the bus, Peter Parker.
And of course, he had to sit just by the door so he would see you when you needed to get off... great.
You took a deep breath before he noticed you.
"Oh, Y/N, how nice to see you." you were a bit taken aback by his openness. He never spoke to you in school this way, and he acted as if he was your best friend or something.
He must have realized your sudden change in demeanour as he sat down across from you on the bus.
"Late study session?" he asked and you nodded. "I have many of those. You will be fine."
"Thank you." you said as you gave him a smile before moving to get off the bus at your stop. "See you in school." you said before waving to him goodbye and getting off.
Just as you turned the corner a familiar person came into view as he landed right beside you.
"You really need to stop scaring me." you said as you looked at him.
"Yes, well I-" he suddenly scooped you up and swung away with you. Just as you looked back down, you saw and heard the explosion go off. You two landed on the nearby rooftop.
"Are you okay?" he asked and you quickly nodded, yes.
"Go check it out." you said and he was quick to swing back into action.
You let out a long sigh.
After about ten minutes you collected yourself and you debated leaving.
Should you wait for him? He might be too busy anyway.
So, you decided to leave instead.
But just as you did you heard a sinister laugh before someone scooped you up once again. But this time it wasn't Spider-Man.
You nearly screamed when you realized that it was the Green Goblin. He flew so high, your fear of heights didn't help the situation one bit.
You desperately clung to him in your panic.
But he just laughed.
"Catch!" he yelled before dropping you. You were high, right above a busy street.
You screamed as you saw Spider-Man follow you down.
He ended up catching you and swinging you away to a nearby roof.
"Are you okay?" he asked with such panic in his voice it nearly broke your heart.
"I'm good, thank you." but you made the mistake and looked down. You shouldn't have. The top of the Empire State Building wasn't so inviting when you didn't have anything to protect you so you cling right back into Spider-Man's arms. "Can you...uhh..."
"Yes, yes sorry." you closed your eyes shut as you just felt him move and soon your feet met the ground, your knees started shaking as you nearly fell, if it wasn't for him holding you up.
"Are you sure you are good?" he asked.
"Yes. Thanks." you tightened your hands around your bag before taking a step, testing the waters. You walked a bit before you turned only to see he followed you. "I'm good. Go catch the... green thingy." you said before turning once more and walking.
"You are going the wrong way." you stopped and looked at him as he pointed the other way. "You live that way."
"Oh." is all you said before you turned and headed the correct way. "Thank you."
You heard him follow you, but you didn't mind. You were still in shock.
"Thank you." you said one last time before you entered your home, you went to take a shower and sleep.
The next day you didn't have classes, so you decided to clean the house and get some groceries.
In the grocery store, you noticed Peter, you gave him a small wave and smile.
"Hi." he said as he walked over to you. "How are you today?" he asked, you found it strange but then you remembered you met with him yesterday when you were dead tired.
"Oh, I'm much better, had a nice long sleep."
"Good to hear, usually coffee helps me but- Sorry. I'm babling."
"Not at all. I usually drink tea, not a huge fan of coffee."
"Oh? Never met a person who didn't like coffee."
"I like it, I just prefer tea." you smiled at him before grabbing some chips and putting them into your basket.
"I don't want to sound weird or creepy but I really like you and I would like to go on a date with you."
"Sorry?" you asked, confused and shocked.
"I was wondering if you wanted to go out on a date with me?"
You looked around yourself, there was no one else in the aisle.
"Me?"
"Yes." he laughed a little and nodded.
"I-Yeah, sure." you were dreaming or dead. Yes, you actually died yesterday and you were in heaven now."
"Brilliant! I will pick you up tonight 6pm? Dinner?"
"Sounds...good."
"Great! Have a nice day!"
You were still in shock for the rest of the day. You didn't even realize that Peter never actually asked for your address. So, was it just a prank?
It wasn't.
Exactly at 6 Peter stood in front of your apartment. You could barely believe it.
"You look lovely!" he said as he approached you.
"Thanks." you were at a loss for words. "How did you know where I live?"
"Oh, I overheard you talking about it once."
Weird.
You don't remember ever discussing it nor did you understand how he can remember.
But you went along with it.
Somehow.
It was a huge red flag that you decided to ignore for now.
The date he planned was simple, simple yet really nice. A simple dinner and a walk in the park.
After the second hour, you started to feel more comfortable around him and you could tell he was the same.
He smiled a lot, which made it very difficult for you to actually pay attention to what he was saying.
Both of you sat down on a bench, enjoying the nice weather as the city around you never stopped.
"Can I be very honest with you, Y/N?"
"Of course, Peter."
"I have liked you for a very long time now. I kept staring at you on campus... I felt like a creep."
"Peter-"
"Look, I understand it is creepy and weird, but I did it because I really liked you. You are so smart and interesting."
"Peter... I feel the same. I always stared at you in class."
"Are you serious?"
"Yes. So, it was very weird when you asked me out so suddenly. I genuinely thought you never even noticed me."
"I did! I notice you." Peter leaned back on the bench looking at a tree across from you as he let out a sigh. "I'm truly blind. I should have noticed and asked you sooner, but I didn't think you would like a nerd like me."
You didn't know what to say. You never noticed him, instead, you thought you were the creep here, as he looked at you, you offered him a smile.
He slowly leaned in and you met him halfway for a gentle kiss.
It was only your first date, you needed to calm down.
But just the way his lips felt against yours, the way you could smell his cologne, and you could just tell that he was just as nervous as you were.
It was a slow and gentle kiss which ended very soon.
Too soon, but it also made you very happy.
"So, I guess you are my girlfriend now."
"I guess, I am." you smiled at him as his hand found yours and he intertwined his fingers with yours.
You never felt happier in your entire life.
Peter then walked you home and offered you one last kiss before he too headed home. He promised to call you tomorrow.
You went to bed thinking if this really happen or did you just have some sort of a fever dream.
But the smile never left your face.
Not even the next day when you anxiously waited for the call.
A call that never came.
You started to doubt if you gave the correct phone number. Did you put in the wrong one by accident? What if you mistyped and now he thinks you played him?
All kinds of thoughts rolled around in your head for the entire day.
You were so nervous, angry and then nervous again. It was a roller coaster.
A roller coaster which was cut short by a loud bang on your window.
You looked out and only saw the red before you opened it and Spider-Man climbed in.
"Oh my-" you couldn't even finish your sentence because he just collapsed onto the floor, with his back against the counter, you ran to get the first aid kit.
He was breathing but he was bleeding.
By the time you arrived back, he had his shirt almost completely off as he showed you his deep cut that ran across his stomach. You also saw bruises forming.
"Couch!" you said as you guided him to lie down.
Once he was laying down, you grabbed your kit and started to clean his wound.
You didn't want to ask what happened, you kind of figured.
He ran into the bad guy, but you could guess 'You should see the other guy'.
"Do you need water? Or food? I can leave you to eat and drink without your mask."
"Water, please." you nodded and rushed to get him some water before returning. When you saw his hair you immediately turned to give him privacy as you handed him the water.
"Thank you." you heard him say before you heard him put the glass down. "Y/N... You will think I'm a creep, that I'm insane but, please... look at me."
"I can't. Your identity is secret for a reason."
"I don't care, I nearly died today and I realized many things. I realized that I didn't want to lose you because I love you."
You barely registered what he was saying, you blamed the blood loss.
"T-That's sweet but I have a boyfriend now."
"I know. It's me." this made you whip your head around so fast you nearly gave yourself whiplash. And indeed, it was Peter Parker on your couch.
"What?"
"I'm Spider-Man."
"No, I got that but...WHAT?!" you clearly didn't get it. So many things ran through your head but now it made sense how he knew where you lived. "So, you have... oh gosh." now you were thinking if you said anything weird, thankfully you didn't, but you could recall times when you almost did. Which almost made you cringe so hard you almost fell.
"I'm so sorry, Y/N. I am a creep and I lied to you so I can get close to you because I was too nervous to talk to you as Peter."
"I always stared at you in class." you suddenly blurred out. "And the others caught on, they always bullied me, saying you were too good for me, that I am only a loser. So I'm just as big of a creep as you are." his hand held yours as you kept staring into his eyes.
His perfect eyes.
"I do really like you, Peter. Spider-Man or not. I just... I always liked you."
"So did I." he smiled a little.
"I just wasn't sure... after Gwen..."
"This is so much different than Gwen. I did love her, but I know that I can love you more. We fit together, I saved you, I was watching you walk home... almost every night, just so I can be sure that you are safe."
"Peter, I appreciate it, really. I just want you to be happy."
"And I-We-We will be." you gave him a smile as he moved but then hissed out in pain.
"Don't move." you said as you moved closer to him, letting his lips meet yours.
You felt his palm cup your cheek as he kissed you with so many promises.
And from that day on, you could say that Spider-Man was your boyfriend.
Your life was boring, but who else could say that Spider-Man was their boyfriend?
🤭 of failing in the study aspect and so you won't be able to achieve your dream (this is so personal rn)
With Peter (parker of course) or Remus or Sirius. Whichever inspires you
You'll Succeed
Pairing: Peter Parker x reader
Word count: 745
A/N: it's been really long since you requested this, im sorry 😅 if you still see this, i hope you enjoy!
When Peter came back from class, he expected to find things different from how he'd left them. He's been gone a couple hours, after all, and you'd assured him before he left that you'd finish up your work while he was away and take the rest of the day off, to give yourself a bit of a break after all your hard work. You'd even discussed dinner plans, and while he'd said time and time again that he'd cook, and that you just had to sit back and relax, you'd said something about getting it started, and he had to choose between bickering with you about it or being on time for class.
What he found upon coming home, though, was not what he'd hoped for. Surrounded by textbooks, papers and a half-full cup of tea, you're still busily typing away on your laptop, as though you haven't moved since he left. He touches a hand to your cup, his backpack hitting the floor with a dull thud.
Cold.
And all this while, you don't stop your incessant typing, don't take your attention off of your work for longer than it takes you to say, "hi, Peter, how was class?"
Peter ignores your question.
"Babe," he sighs, saving your document with one hand and gently closing your laptop with the other, "I thought we agreed you'd take the rest of the day off?"
"Yeah," you sigh back, swiveling in your chair to face him, hands gesturing helplessly as you talk. "But then I looked at my planner, and I- there's so much more to do, Peter, and if I can't do it all I'm gonna fail this class and watch my dreams slip through my fingers. Like little dandelion seeds floating on the wind."
He's ready to make a joke, but you look so exhausted, so dejected and genuinely afraid of all your work being for naught, that he swallows those words and replaces them with something gentler.
"Hey, babe. Babe, look at me." His warm hand touches your chin, gently guiding you to meet his eyes as he kneels in front of you. "You're up in your head again. I promise you, one night off isn't gonna shatter your dreams. It'll be good for you, actually; if you keep pushing without a break, you'll only burn out and get sick, and then you'll lose more time. Take a break with me, yeah? Come relax, we'll make those little dessert things you like, we'll watch your favorite show and I'll give you lots of kisses."
Damn, that's tempting. Part of you wants nothing more than to say yes, but then the overwhelming guilt of not being productive takes over and you shake your head, blinking back tears.
"I can't, Peter. I can't lose this, this opportunity, this- I've dreamed about this for years and I can't lose my chance, not when I'm so close- Peter, I want this so bad, but what if I can't-"
You cut yourself off there. The thought of not achieving your dreams, not getting what you want so badly, what you've worked so hard for, is painful to think about, and a single tear rolls down your cheek as you take a deep breath and remind yourself to think about something else. Alarm flashes across Peter's face, but he tries his best to hide it and reaches up to gently brush your tears away with his thumb.
"Hey, angel, don't think like that. You really think you could lose it, when you've worked this hard? Babe, don't underestimate yourself. You've worked hard, you're still working hard, but you can't work yourself to death either. You need to find a balance, between work and rest. And get those thoughts of failure out of your head, okay angel? You're not gonna fail. Not your class, not your course, not at your goals. You'll succeed, I promise."
Peter sounds so earnest, so honest, so much like he truly believes you can do it, that you can't do much more than stifle a sob and nod, reaching for a hug he's all too happy to give you.
"That's my girl," he smiles, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. "Now, no more work tonight, okay? Come to the kitchen, and remind me how to make those dessert things you like before I mess it up and something completely different comes out of the oven."
