→ premise: peter needed to test how strong the new formula for his web shooters is so why not get his gf’s help, and have a little fun with it. its not like he had millions of other more scientific ways to test its strength.
→ pairing: tasm!peter x fem!reader
→ warnings: smut | 18+, bondage [with peters webs], fingering, small edging, peter possibly ooc, nicknames [baby, princess]
→ a/n: kinktober 04
Sure Peter had plenty of other ways he could test out the strength of his newly formulated web fluid. But you were just so eager to help your boyfriend out, always asking him if there was something you could do. Sewing up gashes and holes in his spider suit, patching him up after a fight, etc. So why not enlist the help of his pretty girlfriend instead of testing it out the same old boring way he always did. Of course being unaware of his little scheme you innocently and sweetly said yes when he asked if you'd help him out with an experiment. That was how you ended up in Peter's bed, hands restrained together and stuck to the headboard with his webs.
His body was currently nestled between your spread legs, eyes roaming your body before fixing on your face. Your lower half is entirely exposed, the breeze from his open window nipping at your skin making you squirm. “This wasn't what I thought you meant when you asked for help, and I said yes Peter” you whine and buck your hips into his touch as his hands roam up your sides, rubbing and caressing your body. You can feel the cool metal of the singular web shooter strapped to his left wrist. “Oh this is fully what I intended when I asked baby, tug all you want, squirm all you want” he coos as he uncovers your breasts by pushing your shirt up to reveal them. “Need to test how strong the new formula is” he explains softly as his right hand falls between your open thighs, middle and ring fingers nudging open your slit and rubbing through your folds. Slick immediately collecting on the tips of his slender fingers.
With a sharp intake of breath you twist your body and try shifting your hips away from his hands. His free hand that has the web shooter aims towards your writhing leg and shoots webs that wrap your ankle tethering it to his foot board. “You sure this wasn’t what you intended, princess? You're so wet for me” he emphasizes his tease with a tilt of his head, smirking softly as his two fingers push at your hole.
You whine and push your hips back on his hand trying to get them inside you, your hole clenching at the small intrusion. “I missed you Pete, you've been so busy” you explain and look through your lashes at your boyfriend hovering over you, your eyes full of longing and love. “Awww well i'm here now baby” he leans down and presses his lips to yours just as his two fingers push knuckle deep inside you. You let out a short surprised moan against his lips as you kiss back greedily. You tug at the webs around your wrists, hands desperate and itching to touch Peter. “Keep tugging baby, try your hardest, you can do it” he mumbles into your mouth, his words both encouraging and mocking before humming when you whine in response. Goosebumps rise on your skin from the pleasure, his free hand coming to pin your hips down holding them still.
Pumping his fingers in and out of your leaking cunt, a sloppy squelching sound filling the room along with your muffled whimpers and moans. “Fuck!~” you let out a plaintive cry and pull away from peters mouth when his thumb is added in, stimulating your clit. Rubbing small circles on your bundle of nerves as his fingers speed up their movement, making your mouth fall open and your head fall back against his pillows. Your hands tug as well as your leg at his webbing, the action doing nothing to tear or unstick it. A heat spreading through your body, you liked this idea of him tying you up with his webs more than you could’ve guessed, the heat settling and growing in the pit of your stomach.
“Come on baby, i don't think your tryin’ hard enough to break out” he taunts as his long fingers find that spongy spot deep inside you and start abusing it, the rough pad of his tongue speeding up its circles. “Gonna have you cumming before you break the webs princess” he chuckles softly and leans down to kiss along the exposed column of your neck. Your head goes fuzzy from his mouth on you, his fingers ruthlessly thrusting inside you, the feeling of him all over you. “Can’t- I can’t do it Pete, i cant break em’ fuck- please baby im gonna cum!” you whine and cry out, your eyes squeezed shut as you teeter on the edge of your climax.
He grabs ahold of your chin and moves your head up the movement forces your eyes open, you stare into his deep brown eyes, his pupils blown.
“Not yet baby, the experiment hasn't gone on long enough, need to see if they break” his voice comes out sweet yet concedesing as he crashes his lips against yours to muffle your wanton moan.
Truthfully Peter had gotten enough information from all your squirming and pulling that he figured it was strong enough, he was just having far too much fun playing with his pretty girlfriend.
→ a/n: i havent written for tasm!peter in a bit so I feel like he’s possibly out of character ? Idk I felt rusty when writing him
cw: sort of angsty, oblivious and idiot peter, grovelling
“Uh, did you want to do a certain topic?” Peter asks, nervously rolling his pencil on the table. Getting paired up for a project with his ex wasn’t part of his agenda, but he’s not gonna pass up this opportunity.
He’ll apologise for missing so many dates, confess he’s Spider-Man, and beg for your forgiveness. In his head, it’s easy, but the minute you sit next to him in the almost empty library, Peter chickens out. What if you don’t like him anymore? It’s his fault you dumped him.
"Um," you're probably just as nervous as he is, maybe even more. You busy your fidgeting hands by tying up your hair into a ponytail instead of tapping them restlessly against the wooden table. "Not really, no. Did you?"
Peter shakes his head, trying to act like being near you doesn’t still give him butterflies. It takes him a minute to think of something to say, but his brain short circuits more and more as he realises just how alone you two are. It's sort of terrifying.
After an uncomfortable few seconds of him trying to form a sentence through the swarm of butterflies in his stomach, he finally manages a weak, “How are you?”
You blink, a little surprised, but offer a smile at his attempts to make some conversation. "I'm okay," you murmur. "And you?"
He swallows, returning the smile as his gaze drifts up from his notebook to you. “I’m good, just busy with, uh... school stuff.”
You hum thoughtfully. "Yeah." This conversation was painfully awkward. You almost wished you had been paired with anyone else except Peter, but you can't deny the way your heart flutters in his presence. "How's May?" you ask softly.
Peter’s eyes light up a little at the mention of May. “She’s… good. Really good, actually. Keeps bugging me to eat more." He lets out a soft laugh, then hesitates. “She… uh, she still asks about you. Says the house feels quieter without you around for dinner.”
He didn’t mean for it to come out like that—like an accidental confession that he noticed the silence too—but there it was.
"Oh," you murmur, after a beat of hesitation. "Tell her I'm sorry?"
His shoulders slouch when you say that, as if there was a small part of him holding out hope that you wanted to come to one of those dinners again. Peter clears his throat as he pushes the thought away. He gives you a sad smile as he nods, “I will. I’m… I know she misses you. I miss having you over for dinner, if I’m being honest.”
Your heart aches, a little, in your chest. "You do?"
There it was again, that nervous, awkward silence. A soft sigh leaves his lips when he hears your question, and he finally gives in, nodding. His shoulders slump forward as he admits the truth he’s been avoiding.
“Yeah. Yeah, I… I miss you a lot, actually. And I hate myself for how I treated you. I was a shitty boyfriend. I know that now. But I really do miss you, so much.”
You're not even sure what to say, so you just stare at him, blinking.
Peter instantly regrets it. His hands fly up, nervously brushing his hair back as he stammers, “Uh, forget I said that! I didn’t mean to... Crap, this is so awkward.”
He laughs nervously, eyes darting everywhere but at you. “Too much? Yeah. Definitely too much. We’re just doing a project. Totally chill partners.” But then he sneaks a glance at you—and for a split second, the mask slips. You see it: the boy who still cares way too much.
"Of course I miss you too," you blurt. You're not sure who's more surprised at your sudden outburst: Peter, or you. "But I can't put myself through that again, Peter. I want to be with someone who doesn't lie and make up excuses for standing me up, and doesn't make me wait for hours without a call or even a text."
Peter's mouth opens, then closes, as though he doesn't know how to reply. For the smartest kid in the grade, he's awfully slow when it comes to relationships. When it comes to you. “You don’t understand… I just—I had more important things to do—"
"More important than me?" You whisper quietly, voice tinged with hurt.
His heart breaks all over again. He wanted to reach out and hold you, tell you he was just being a stupid hero and that you were, and always would be, the most important thing to him. But what he wanted to do, and what he should do were two different things. So he tried to keep his distance, to keep playing the role of careless ex-boyfriend.
“Yeah. Yeah, I had more important things to do than hang out with you."
You can't look at him now, trying to still the hurt bubbling up in your chest, and all you want to do is just cry. You weren't important enough for him to stay.
Peter instantly regrets his words when he sees the way you turn away, how your shoulders slump. A wave of guilt and regret washes over him as he watches your reaction, his own heart shattering as he sees you trying not to cry.
"We can do special relativity," you say instead, voice smaller, guarded. "For the project."
The casual change in conversation felt like another blow to his chest, the sudden wall you put up hurting him more than he cared to admit. He missed how things used to be - how he used to make you laugh and smile, how he could hold your hand or wrap an arm around your shoulder.
But he had to remember, all of that was gone. So Peter nods, his voice quiet. “Special relativity is fine, yeah.”
You take out my notes while stuffing every single emotion right back down so you don't look like an emotional freak in front of him, as well as your laptop. You flip to the page in your notebook on special relativity. With tiny doodles of Spider-Man in the margins, who you still didn't even know was Peter.
Peter notices. Of course he does - how could he not? His eyes flicker to the doodles, and he freezes. Tiny little Spidey sketches—him, in his suit—lurking beside equations about time dilation and light speed. He didn’t know you even liked the guy. Let alone drew him.
A soft, sad smile tugs at his lips. “Huh,” he says quietly, tapping one of the drawings with his pencil. “You’re… a fan?”
"Mhm," you reply softly, still guarded, walls up. You hate how small he just made you feel. "Why, are you?"
He wanted to tell you the truth. That he was that very superhero in the drawings you had in your notes. That he was that hero you had a crush on. But he shrugs and forces a casual smile, trying to look like he was completely indifferent.
“Spider-Man? Nah, not my type. Just a guy in tights, y’know? Weirdo who fights crime.”
"He's not a weirdo," you murmur eventually, after a pause, suddenly defensive of this little superhero drawn in your margins. "He's a hero. He saves people."
Peter wanted to laugh at that. God, you were just so adorable without even knowing. He tried to sound casual. Like a guy who didn’t care way too much about the fact that you liked the friendly neighbourhood hero. “If you say so, sweetheart.”
You blink. Try to ignore the way your traitorous heart jumps at the pet name. "Don't call me that."
He winces at your words, the way you shot down the pet name so quickly. He always used to call you sweetheart, and you used to love it. "Why not? I used to call you that all the time."
"Maybe because before I thought I was important to you." You look away from him, gaze fixated on the wall, the shelves, anything else. "Now I know I never was."
Of course you were important to him. He never felt more alive, more whole, more happy than when he was with you. But Peter Parker was an idiot.
But he also couldn't stand being an idiot anymore.
He let out a soft sigh, fighting the temptation to touch you. “You were always important to me, sweetheart.”
"No, I wasn't," you whisper, adamant. Your heart hurts, so bad.
Peter can’t do this anymore. The mask slips completely. No more jokes. No more sarcasm. No more pretending he doesn’t care.
“You were everything to me,” he says, voice raw and trembling now, eyes glassy like he’s fighting back tears. “I missed every date because I was saving lives across the city. And yeah, maybe I should’ve been honest with you instead of making up excuses… but every time I held you after patrol? When you’d fall asleep on my shoulder during movies? That was the only peace I ever had.”
He hesitates, heart hammering. Not from fear of spiders or villains, but from fear of losing you, right here.
“…I’m Spider-Man.”
You blink, then again.
The silence stretches. Too long, too fragile. “I know it sounds insane,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “But that’s why I was gone. That’s why I lied. Not because you weren’t important… but because I was terrified. Terrified you’d get hurt if anyone knew who I really was. Terrified I’d be the one to hurt you by vanishing at the worst times.”
“You were always important… more than anything.” He swallows past the lump in his throat. “I should have told you, I know. I was just so scared of losing you.”
"Why would you lose me?" You sounded so hurt, so confused. Like all of this could have been avoided if he just confessed the truth.
Peter looks down, rubbing his eyes to hide the tears. His voice shook as he said the words. “Because you didn't sign up for a relationship with Spider-Man.”
"Sure," you say quietly, "but that wouldn't have mattered, Peter. At least I would've known where you were."
You were right. He was an idiot for thinking he was protecting you. The truth would have hurt, sure, but not like this deception. There were a million things he wanted to say. Apologies, explanations, promises that he would be honest now. But the words caught in his throat as he looked at how hurt you were.
So he only managed a weak, choked-up whisper. “I never meant to lie to you, sweetheart. I’m sorry.”
And you can't ever seem to hold a grudge against him. He's too genuine, too kind, and you think you can understand. Maybe you would have done the same in his place, to protect him. You'd do anything to keep him safe, you realise. "...It's okay," I murmur.
Peter's breath hitches. He wants to believe it, but he knows better. It isn’t okay. He hurt you, made you feel unimportant when you were the only thing that ever kept him grounded. “No… no, it’s not,” he says quietly, shaking his head. “I don’t deserve that.”
And then - before he can stop himself - he reaches out, gently brushing your hand with his fingers. “But if… if you’ll let me? I want to make it right.”
You don't pull your hand away, and Peter tries not to read too deeply into that. Instead he gently laces his fingers through yours—his calloused, scarred fingers against your soft ones.
He swallows hard, gently rubbing his thumb over yours. “Can we… can we start over, maybe?”
You can't say no. Can't say no when his hand's holding yours, so gently, like you're precious. You're too in love with him. Plus, you wouldn't want to say no, either. So you nod.
He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding - half-laugh, half-sob - as he squeezes your hand gently. His eyes shine, not quite dry.
“Okay,” he whispers. “Then… hi. I’m Peter Parker. I like science, bad puns, and... I really like you.”
And for the first time in months? He’s not lying. A small, hopeful smile tugs at his lips—the kind only you ever got to see—the real one beneath the mask of sarcasm and super-heroics.
You’re back. And this time… he won’t mess it up.
+ BONUS!
Two weeks later:
The rain hammers against the pavement as Peter stands on your doorstep, drenched to the bone. No coat. No umbrella. Just a single folded piece of notebook paper in his hand - your old project notes, carefully scanned and printed with tiny corrections in red pen.
In one hand: a thermos of hot cocoa from May’s recipe.
On his face: pure, unfiltered panic.
“I know I messed up again,” he says when you open the door, before you can even speak, voice cracking. “I was supposed to meet you for coffee an hour ago—but there was this runaway train—and I swear I texted but my phone died and—”
He drops to one knee in the puddle.
Not romantically. More like he slipped trying to be dramatic, but he rolls with it anyway.
“Okay! Fine! You win! I’m terrible at time management! But I do care about you—I care so much it physically hurts when I’m late because you’re worth being on time for.”
He holds out the cocoa like an offering. “So… will you forgive me? Again?”
Beneath all the awkwardness? There’s just Peter. The boy who loves you more than spiders or science or saving New York City itself. And yeah. That’s enough for you.
Hiii I would love a cotton candy cone with sprinkles and cherries!! (and maybe some stark!reader) also this is SUCH a cool idea
thank you for your order!! i hope you enjoy!!
order #20: peter parker (TASM), fluff, friends to lovers, drunk
Lightweight
|| ao3 || Peter Parker (TASM) Masterlist || 400 celebration!! || requests are open!! || part 2 ||
summary: Peter gets drunk and confesses his feelings for you (wc: 919)
Peter could not handle his alcohol as well as he had imagined he could.
Being an outsider for most of high school meant Peter didn’t get to go to all the big house parties that his peers did. It wasn’t until he had met you and started going to the parties you invited him to that Peter finally got a taste of what he had only lived vicariously through in the movies he watched. And in all honesty, he wasn’t the biggest fan. But it seemed to make you happy, and Peter was slowly learning he would do just about anything to make you happy. Even if it meant enduring stuffy college parties instead of being at home working on new improvements to his web shooters.
Peter was also learning that he was probably a lightweight. An embarrassing revelation when he was two drinks in and already clinging to your side, afraid to let go as if you would somehow disappear to one of the many villains he’s faced if he did. It was especially embarrassing when, somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that the two of you weren’t dating. You were just friends who had met in your Bio 1 class, and he had caught feelings way too quickly. And yet, you didn’t seem to mind him being practically glued to your side. And if you weren’t complaining, then well, who was he to pull himself off of you?
“Are you comfortable there?” You asked through a laugh, handing him a glass of water which he happily took, brushing his fingers against yours and letting them linger for probably longer than he should have.
Peter took a few sips from the glass before nodding his head a few times, a smile playing on his lips. “I’m really comfortable,” he told you, words slightly slurring together as you let out another soft laugh, one that made his stomach feel a little weird. Or maybe that feeling was due to the beer. In all honesty, he couldn’t really tell. “And I’m having a lot of fun,” he said before taking another sip from his glass.
“Yeah, I don’t think you’ll feel the same tomorrow morning,” you tease with a small shrug of your shoulders. You wouldn’t be surprised if Peter didn’t leave his dorm at all tomorrow morning, too busy nursing his growing hangover that you inadvertently caused.
Peter shook his head no at your words, looking at you with all the seriousness he could muster now in his drunken state before telling you softly, “Well I got to be with you, so of course I’m having fun.”
His words, the way he was looking at you, the fact that he had been stuck to your side all night, it was all doing something silly to your already racing heart. But you decided to ignore it for tonight, if only to help keep Peter on his very uncoordinated, very drunken feet.
“I had fun with you too, Pete,” you say through a small laugh, “but we should probably get you back to your dorm soon so you can start catching up on sleep, yeah?”
He mumbles something unintelligible that sounds close to a complaint or some other noise of disapproval, but followsyou anyway, because of course, Peter can’t stand to be very far away from you tonight.
The walk to the dorm hall was a quiet, chilly one, with Peter’s jacket draped over your shoulders due to his insistence and your hand held tightly in his, not that you minded. It was nice. He was nice.
“Thanks for inviting me to the party,” Peter says, looking at you with a happy, dopey smile as his words continue to slur together.
You laugh despite yourself, but nod along to his words with a smile of your own. “Course, Peter, anytime. Just hopefully next time you won’t have to wake up the next morning with a massive hangover.”
Peter nods his head in agreement, but you don’t think he truly understands just how much pain he’ll be in come tomorrow morning.
“You’re really pretty,” Peter mumbles, his hand holding onto yours just a little tighter as a shy smile slowly grows on his face. “I like spending time with you, I like you.” Peter says as the two of you make your way towards the dorm hall, almost making you stop dead in your tracks. Almost, if it weren’t for him gently pulling you into the building.
“How drunk are you right now?” You ask through a laugh.
“I could run a marathon,” is all he replies as the two of you enter the elevator to his floor.
You can’t help but laugh again, a teasing smile on your face as you lead him to his dorm so he can go to bed. “I’m sure,” you murmur, as he fumbles through his keys to unlock the door. “We should talk about this tomorrow when you’re more sober,” you murmur.
Peter only scoffs, as if the idea was ridiculous. “I’m very sober,” he murmurs, words slurring together in a very un-sober manner.
“Then when it’s not nearing 2 am,” you mumble with a soft, sweet smile that is almost enough to make Peter’s knees go weak right then and there. “Goodnight, Peter,” you say with a small laugh.
“Tomorrow,” he mumbles, looking at you as seriously as he can right now, before wishing you a goodnight as well.
Tomorrow was going to be a very interesting day for Peter Parker.
Summary: After finding your old camcorder, you, Peter, and May gather around to watch the unseen footage that captured your relationship throughout college.
Warnings: None! This is all fluff featuring college-aged Peter and Reader dating :))
Word Count: 1.1K
Author's Note: This can be read as a standalone, but I wrote it with Peter and Reader from "Agree to Disagree" in mind because before there was Husband!Peter, there was Boyfriend!Peter.
Please comment and/or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more!
TASM!Peter Parker Masterlist
May sat beside you, her eyes trained on the tiny screen of your old camcorder as you rewinded the footage. “I can’t believe you’ve never watched any of them back. There’s probably years' worth of memories on this thing.”
You nod your head in acknowledgement, “It’s only ‘cause I thought we lost in the move. Someone,” you nudged your husband, who was sitting on the other side of you, “Put it in the box with his old camera equipment and shoved it in the back of our closet.”
Peter wraps his arm around the back of the couch, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder, “In my defense, neither of us has used this since ESU.”
You instinctively lean into his side, “That is true. There are probably a few months' worth of memories instead of years, May. Most of them should be from when we started dating, since this was a birthday gift and we got together like a month later.”
“A month and four days,” he specifies.
May beams, “That’s even better! You two were so cute when you first got together—still are, but I had never seen Peter act like that before you.”
Your lips curve up into a smile, pleased to hear just how much of an effect you had on your husband back when you first started dating. You open your mouth, ready to tease Peter, when the tape stops rewinding and reaches 00:00.
“Oh! Look!” May exclaimed, using her nail to tap the screen where the play button icon had appeared over a still of a pigeon surrounded by an obscene amount of breadcrumbs.
“We can skip my trial runs of me using this thing,” you mumble, pressing down on the fast forward button. Most of the frames that you were able to catch a glimpse of as they flashed by were scenic videos you’d take around the city, including one of Spider-Man swinging around.
A flicker of your face appears on the screen and you press play. Peter and May lean in and watch the video start to play. “This is from our first date,” Peter hums, looking at the date and timestamp.
The video starts with you setting the camcorder down and stepping back to show off your little black dress. The footage itself was grainy, but the audio was clearer than you expected. “Okay, so, tonight is my first date with Peter. I’m nervous but also really excited. I’ve been going back and forth between wearing this dress and the dark blue one I got recently. I think this is the right choice, or at least the safe one. He should be here soon, so hopefully it goes well.”
A second passes before you appear on screen again, roughly two hours later according to the timestamp. You were grinning from ear to ear while speaking about the date, “I just got home—Peter walked me home. It was perfect, he was perfect. I had a really good time. He was so nerdy, a little awkward, but it adds to his charm. He liked me too, I held his hand on the way back and he was blushing. We talked about where our second date should be and I suggested a movie night. What we’re going to watch is undecided; I guess we’ll just figure it out then. He mentioned he likes Legos and I haven’t built the orchid set MJ gifted me for my birthday, so maybe I’ll bring that out and we can build it together while watching the movie? I’m going to shower and then give the girls a call to debrief, but if you’re my future child watching this, Peter Parker might be your father.”
May squeals, “Oh, you are too cute!”
“Oh my god,” you laugh. You remembered how giddy you felt after your first date, but seeing just how smitten you actually were made your cheeks burn. Peter presses a kiss to your temple, making your face feel even hotter. “And you claim I fell first,” he teases.
“You did,” both you and May retort.
The next video, dated over a month later, starts to play and was the first to feature Peter who was singing along to “Let Me Love You” by Mario in front of your mirror while getting ready before catching you recording him. “Never worry ‘bout what I do. I’d be coming home, back to you. Every night, doin’ you right. You’re the type—Baby!” He starts walking over to the bed and the screen shakes once you start to giggle, “It’s for me, it’s just for me, just for keeps.”
It cuts immediately and another video follows, this one filmed only a few days after the last. You and Peter were in the bathroom, he was sitting down with a towel around his neck, while you sectioned and applied bleach to his roots. “Do you like the bleached look, Y/n?” He asks. “You know I like it.” He winks at the camcorder, and the video ends.
A very quick clip of Peter playing basketball starts rolling. “This shot’s for you,” he shouts to you in the clip, bouncing the ball a few times and then shooting it with a slight jump. The camera follows the ball as it hits the backboard and falls to the ground. “We’re deleting that one!”
May stifles a laugh and your husband gasps beside you, “You said you deleted it!”
“I must’ve forgotten.” Your response earns a playful scoff from him, “Yeah, right.”
All the clips that played after were only a few seconds long. There was one of Peter trying to teach you how to skate and you holding onto him for dear life, one of the two of you making breakfast that was cut short by the fire alarm going off, and a secretly video taken by MJ of the two of you starting to drift off to sleep on his shoulder while the three of you were studying in the library.
Another video starts to play, one that you had never seen. It was dated three months after your first date and featured only Peter. “You left your camera here and you don’t know it yet, but I love you. I haven’t said it to your face yet. That's probably going to happen tomorrow or whenever I see you next. I’m a little nervous about it—in a “butterflies in my stomach” kind of way. But, yeah…I love you, and I’ve felt it for a while, but this feels like the right time to say it.”
Your chest felt fuzzy after watching the video, your entire demeanor softening as you glanced over at him, “I didn’t know you did this.”
He raises his eyebrows, “You didn’t?”
You open your mouth to respond, but one final video starts to play, this one recorded the very next day and was of you baring all your teeth. “Peter told me he loved me today, and I said it back. My face hurts from smiling. Oh my god! We’re in love!”
“You two are the sweetest things,” May gushes as the tape stops.
Outside your bedroom window the sun is starting to rise, and cars are driving by. Your head lays on Peter's chest and a leg of yours is thrown over him. You start to stir when Peter begins to wake up. Those infamous Spidey Senses are especially helpful right now because he can feel that something is wrong with Charlotte.
"Mornin', bug. I think I hear something in Charlie's room, and it does not sound good at all." He whispers.
You readjust and sit up at that statement.
"Oh shit, you're right."
Both of you practically jog to your daughter's room and fling open the door. Charlotte stands in her crib aggressively shaking it, so aggressively that it's simply unnatural that a baby could do that. Your face contorts in shock, and you look between Peter and your daughter.
"I guess I was right about having a 'Spider baby'." You chuckle.
"Yeah, I know this is our first kid, but I don't think that's normal. If I hadn't secured the crib, she'd be falling on her face from doing that."
Peter walks over to the crib and plucks her right out. She babbles incoherently at him and grabs onto his shirt.
"You can't be doing that, lovebug, you just have to wait for mommy and daddy to get you in the morning." He coos.
She side eyes him and buries her head further into his chest. He walks into the kitchen with you trailing behind and tries to set Charlotte down in her Pack 'n Play yet he can't. Her little hands stick to his shirt with seemingly no way to get them off. His brows furrow and he looks only to realize, her hands aren't actually holding on to him, she's just sticking to him with her hands flat.
"She got the sticky hands too?" He says incredulously.
You laugh from pure shock and tickle her until her hands finally unstick from him. Her giggles fill the quiet of the apartment and she squirms until you set her in the Pack 'n Play. She plops down and immediately throws her pacifier. You let out a sigh and hug Peter. He hugs you just a little tighter and places a kiss on the crown of your head.
"This sucks. Who knew I'd have a baby with Spiderman powers?"
"Evidently me. I feel like we kind of cursed ourselves with always calling her 'lovebug', Pete."
"Yeah, probably or Spiderbaby." He chuckles
"She'll be okay though. At this point, she's like seven months old, the only time her super strength would bad is breaking toys or something."
Peter laughs at that as he opens the fridge and grabs the tub of yogurt. You yawn and lean against Peter, putting your head on his shoulder from behind as he mixes yogurt and berries for Charlotte. You take Charlotte out of her Pack 'n Play and fake groan as you do.
"Oooh my gosh, you're getting so big, Charlie."
She babbles excitedly and squishes your cheeks. You slide her into her highchair and clip on the tray. Peter places her bowl on the tray and pushes down on it so the suction cups stick.
"I don't think those suction cups will work anymore." He remarks lightly.
"Yeah, probably not." You chuckle.
Charlotte squishes the strawberries and raspberries and rubs the juicies on her chair before sticking her hands in the bowl. Then she sticks her entire face in and eats it that way. The bowl ends up on her head with fruit stained yogurt dripping on her.
"Charlie! We just gave you a bath last night." You groan for real this time.
She giggles and claps her hands, "Dada!"
"Yeah, lovebug? What's up?" He holds in a laugh at the sight of her.
"Dada, Dada, Dada, up!" She throws her hands in the air and reaches for him.
He unbuckles her and carries her into the bathroom.
"Hey, bug?" He calls out to you.
"Yeah?" You yell back.
"Can you wipe off her highchair?"
"What?"
You find him in the bathroom sitting on the closed toilet seat checking the water temperature and bouncing Charlotte on his knee.
"What'd you say, Pete?"
"Just asked if you'd wipe off her highchair. I feel like the berries will stain it."
"Yeah, sure." You shrug and walk right back to the kitchen.
Meanwhile, Charlotte splashes around in the bath and Peter rubs green apple scented shampoo into her dark curls. She squirms in place but quickly leans into his touch. She repeatedly babbles 'dada' until he wraps her in a hooded pink towel and covers her chubby cheeks in kisses. Her contagious laughter echoes through the bathroom and hallway and he places her on the ground while he looks for an outfit for her.
You soon join them and give Peter a chaste kiss before putting a diaper on Charlotte.
"Hi, lottie, look at those rolls." You coo at her, gently squishing her chubby thighs.
She grabs your shirt and pulls you close to try to kiss you but it's really just slobbering on you. She tries to pull away after a minute but her hand is stuck.
"Hey, baby?" You call nervously.
"Yeah?" He says back absentmindedly.
"She's stuck again. How much do you care about this shirt." You admit.
"Considering that's a faded D.A.R.E shirt I got as a kid, she can rip it all she wants." He remarks.
Her fist closes a few times and surprisingly she comes unstuck. You pick her up and place her down in her crib, handing her a pacifier. Her eyes flutter closed and she falls asleep soon after. Both you and Peter walk to the living room and flop onto the couch.
"Spiderbaby..." You whisper incredulously.
"Yeah, Spiderbaby..." He whispers back with a smile on his face, kissing you, completely relaxed.
synopsis :: you and peter mess around in the leaves like you did as kids
warnings :: none, fluff
word count :: 1.5k
pairing :: peter parker x reader
marvel masterlist
As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting a warm golden hue across the landscape, you could feel the crispness of fall in the air. Vibrant reds, oranges, and yellows painted the trees like an artist’s canvas, and the scent of pumpkin spice wafted through your neighborhood. Autumn had always been your favorite season, but this year, it felt even more magical with Peter by your side.
You had decided to spend the weekend at your friend’s family cabin, nestled in the woods. The backdrop of colorful leaves and tranquil nature seemed almost too perfect, but it was even more special because of the cozy moments you shared with him. After a long week, the two of you were in desperate need of a break, and what better way to unwind than to embrace the season?
After gulping down mugs of hot cocoa, jokes flying between you like leaves scattered by the wind, you stepped outside. The chill in the air was invigorating, and each breath felt crisp in your lungs. The soft crunch of fallen leaves underfoot accompanied your laughter as you wandered through the woods, hand in hand with Peter.
Peter stopped suddenly, glancing around with an excited sparkle in his eyes as his gaze settled on a massive pile of leaves, their colors a kaleidoscope of fall. “Do you think it would be acceptable to jump into a pile of leaves right now?” he asked, a hint of mischief dancing in his voice.
You raised an eyebrow, feigning thoughtfulness. “Hmm, let me think…” A wide grin spread across your face as you answered his question in your own playful way. “It’s always acceptable.”
Without losing a second, he grabbed your hand and took off running towards the pile, both of you laughing uncontrollably. The world around you faded away as carefree joy overtook you. He urged you to run faster, pick up your feet, and before you knew it, you were surrounded by the vibrant pile of leaves, the feeling of autumn encapsulating you both.
With one graceful leap, Peter dove into the pile, sending leaves flying in every direction. You couldn’t help but laugh as more leaves tumbled around him. He emerged from the colorful mess with leaves clinging to his dark hair and a bright smile that made your heart race. There was something utterly captivating about the way he could light up a dull day.
“Your turn!” he exclaimed, gesturing wildly for you to join him.
With an eager smile, you stepped back, taking a moment to build up a dramatic run. “Watch this!” you shouted, sprinting toward the pile. You could hear him laughing as you leaped into the air, arms spread wide.
The world went quiet for a heartbeat as you fell into the leaves, and then you were engulfed in a kaleidoscope of color as you landed with a soft thud. You let out a delighted shriek, feeling the leaves cascade around you, swirling like confetti.
When you stood up, you looked like a leaf angel. The autumn debris tangled in your hair and stuck to your clothes, but you could hardly care as you turned to find Peter doubled over in laughter at the sight of you.
“What?!” you asked in mock offense, flicking some leaves at him.
“You look like you just came out of a fall-themed fairy tale,” he teased, shaking his head in delight. “The leaves have declared you their queen.”
“Queen of the leaves, huh?” you smirked, crossing your arms dramatically as you soaked in the moment, the sun glinting off his joyful features. “I guess that means you have to obey my commands.”
“O-okay, Your Majesty!” he replied, still smiling as he bowed slightly, arms extended. “What shall I do first?”
“Build me a throne of leaves!” you declared, your laughter erupting into the crisp air.
“Coming right up!” He set to work, gathering as many leaves as he could. He piled and piled until, at last, he stepped back, gazing at his work with pride.
“Ta-da!” he exclaimed, gesturing dramatically to the throne. You burst into laughter again at the sight—a haphazard heap of leaves that somehow resembled a throne.
“Well, it certainly is a throne,” you said, playfully inspecting it.
“Now, do you deem it worthy of your royalty?” He watched expectantly, his excitement contagious.
“Hmm…” you pretended to deliberate for a moment before sitting down gingerly. “Ah, it’s surprisingly comfortable! You’ve outdone yourself, Parker.”
He grinned, clearly pleased. “I’m glad to serve my queen well. Would she like to be chosen for a dance among her subjects?”
“Oh, absolutely!” you said, standing up and extending your hand playfully. The world felt like a stage, and in this moment, everything around you faded into a soft blur.
Peter took your hand, leading you both to what was now a leaf-covered dance floor. He twirled you gently under a canopy of branches, laughter ringing through the crisper air. You spun around, your arms wide, feeling free as leaves swirled around you in a beautiful, chaotic dance.
“Do you remember our first autumn together?” you asked in between giggles, love and nostalgia enveloping you as you recounted the memories.
“How could I forget?” he replied, his eyes softening, a hint of melancholy crossing his features. “We spent hours just like this—playing, laughing, and losing ourselves in the moment.”
“Those were some of the best days,” you said, still feeling the flutter of those cherished memories.
“Yeah,” he replied quietly, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “And now, here we are again.”
The dance slowed, and you found yourself lost in his eyes, time pausing as the world around you faded. There was a sweet gravity in the air, the warmth of connection pulling you both closer, as if the autumn leaves themselves were rooting for you.
Suddenly, with a mischievous glint, Peter picked up a handful of leaves and tossed them in the air. They scattered like shooting stars above you, concern and wonder mingling in the dance of colors against the twilight sky.
“What if we made a wish on these leaves?” he suggested, his voice low and intimate.
You looked at him, curiosity dancing in your eyes. “What are we wishing for?”
“Something simple.” He leaned slightly closer. “More moments like this.”
Your heart swelled at his sincerity. “I like that wish. I’ll go first: I wish for more autumn days filled with laughter, joy, and you.”
“Now that is a wish worth granting.” He chuckled softly as you both let your leaves fall.
Your shoulders started shaking with giggles as leaves sprinkled to the ground, your worries melting away with their descent.
Suddenly, he hurriedly added, “And I wish for you to be happy always. That’s my wish.”
His earnestness wrapped around you like a cozy blanket. You felt a rush of affection and warmth, a feeling that transcended the cool fall air.
“Thank you,” you whispered, sincerity lining your tone.
The light began to fade, casting a gentle twilight glow over your heads as you settled back into the leaf pile, an effortless closeness forming between your shoulders. You leaned into him, resting your head against his shoulder.
“Do you think it’ll get colder as the night goes on?” you mused, glancing up at the emerging stars.
“It might, but I have my own heating source right here,” he joked, wrapping his arm around you.
“Very clever,” you chuckled, allowing yourself to snuggle in closer, warmth radiating between you.
The sky transformed into a canvas of twinkling stars, each one beckoning with promises of sweet dreams and gentle wishes. Peter’s comforting presence eased your mind; you felt completely at peace, enveloped in the beauty of the night and the bond you shared.
As laughter danced in the air and the scent of autumn leaves lingered, you realized that you wouldn’t trade this moment—this memory—for anything in the world.
“Peter?”
“Yes?”
“Thanks for always making me feel like this.”
He tilted your chin gently, his eyes soft and understanding. “It’s because I love you, you know.”
His words hung between you like the stars above—bold, illuminating, and heavy with meaning. Your heart fluttered, and in that moment, you knew you’d found something truly special.
“I love you too.”
And just like that, the cold of the night fell away, leaving only warmth, laughter, and the promise of many more autumns to come, together.
With a final sigh of contentment, you both leaned back into the leaves, stargazing and dreaming as the universe wrapped its arms around you both, two souls intertwined under the magic of a fall night.
summary: Peter was always better than you in Biochemistry. But when he finds out that you outscored him three times in a row, he calls you a witch.
✧༺ ✯༻∞ ∞༺ ✯༻✧
“Witch!”
You blinked, turning around with the most offended look you could manage. Peter, aka your ex boyfriend was standing there in the middle of the biochem lecture hall, holding his graded exam like it was evidence in a crime scene. His hair was messy, his backpack half open, and he looked way too dramatic for a Tuesday morning.
“Excuse me?” you said, raising an eyebrow.He stepped closer, waving the paper at you. “You heard me. You’re a witch. There’s no other explanation for this.”
“For what, exactly?” you asked, folding your arms.
Peter pointed at the red A+ on your test. “For this! You outscored me. Again. Third exam in a row! I studied for like four days straight, barely slept and somehow you’re still beating me.”
You bit back a smile. “Maybe you just need better study habits.”
“I have great study habits!” he argued. “I colorcode my notes. I make flash cards. I even watched those boring tutorial videos on enzyme kinetics.”
“Yeah” you said, shouldering your bag. “Maybe next time you should watch them twice.”
A few people snickered as they walked past and Peter’s jaw dropped like you’d just roasted him on live TV. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Oh and how I enjoy this.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You must’ve paid the professor. Or hypnotized him. Or secretly replaced my test with yours.”
You gave him your most exaggerated innocent face. “Oh totally. I also brewed a potion under the full moon while chanting chemical formulas backwards.”
Peter glared but couldn’t hide the way his mouth twitched like he wanted to laugh. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Thanks,” you said, flashing him a grin. “See you in lab, cry baby.”
“Witch” he muttered again as you walked out, and you swear you heard him smile.
~
By the time you got back to the dorm later that day, you could still hear him saying it. Witch. He always had something to say, always had to argue, to compete, to turn everything into a challenge. And the worst part? He lived just across the room.
The dorm was quiet when you opened the door. Peter was hunched over his desk, goggles on, tinkering with something that looked like it belonged in a superhero movie. Typical.
“You ever not do science?” you asked, dropping your bag.
He didn’t look up. “You ever not bother me?”
“Not when you call me a witch.”
That got his attention. He turned around in his chair, the sleeves of his hoodie pushed up, a smudge of grease on his wrist. “I was making an observation.”
“An observation?”
He nodded seriously. “Three exams in a row. You’re clearly using supernatural forces.”
“Or maybe I’m just smarter.”
“Not possible.”
You smiled sweetly. “Denial doesn’t look good on you, Pete.” He hates to admit it but the nickname still makes his heart beat faster.
He threw his pen down dramatically. “You just love to rub it in, don’t you?”
“Maybe” you said, kicking off your shoes. “What are you even working on?”
“Nothing you’d understand,” he said, too quickly.
“Oh please, you’re not that mysterious.”
He hesitated, then mumbled, “Fine. It’s a mini spectrometer.”
You blinked. “For fun?”
He shrugged. “Some people do yoga. I build things.”
You laughed despite yourself. “You’re insane.”
“Takes one to know one.”
You glared, but he was already turning back to his project, humming under his breath. You hated how familiar it felt, the late night lab light, the sound of him muttering equations, the faint smell of solder. You’d known Peter since freshman year. You used to be friends, which turned into a Relationship. Then rivals. Now… something in between. But still Rivals.
-
The next morning, he was up before you, making coffee that smelled way too good for someone you supposedly couldn’t stand. You stumbled into the kitchenette halfawake.
He handed you a mug without looking up from his laptop. “Don’t thank me.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“You were thinking it.”
You sipped anyway, trying not to smile. “You’re tolerable when you have caffeine.”
“I’m tolerable all the time. Remember when I used to make you coffee after leaving you sore?” he said.
“Debatable.”
He glanced up, smirking. “You like me, admit it.”
“Like you?” You scoffed. “You drive me insane.”
“That’s not a no.”
“Can you like shut up for a second!”
He laughed, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Relax. I’m kidding.”
You rolled your eyes but your heart did a weird flip that you definitely ignored.
~
A week later, you got your lab grades back…another A. Peter’s was one point below.
He stormed into the dorm, waving the paper. “One point! You beat me by one point!”
You were lying on your bed scrolling through your phone. “Guess I’m just better at titrations.”
He groaned loudly, pacing. “I swear, if I ever actually score higher than you, I’m framing it.” You grinned without looking up. “You’ll need a miracle for that.”
He stopped pacing, looked at you for a long second, and then smiled in a way that made your stomach twist. “We’ll see.
~
That night, the two of you worked side by side at your desks, pretending you didn’t notice how often the other looked up. He’d tap his pen against the table; you’d sigh dramatically. Neither of you said it out loud, but there was something electric between you—something that had nothing to do with biochemistry.
When the clock hit midnight, Peter finally pushed his chair back and yawned. “You win tonight, witch.”
“Obviously.”
He smiled tiredly. “Don’t stay up too late.”
“Who are you, my mom?”
He chuckled, grabbing his hoodie. “Night, (Y/N).”
You waited until the door shut behind him before whispering, “Night.”
After laying in your bed, you begin to have flashbacks to when you and Peter were still dating.
You closed your eyes, trying not to think about the way he’d smiled before walking out.
But of course your brain betrayed you.
You remember, before everything went wrong. The night you both stayed up until 3 AM. cramming for chem, sitting crosslegged on his dorm floor, surrounded by textbooks and cold pizza. He’d looked at you over a stack of notes and said “If we both fail, at least we fail together.” And you’d laughed so hard you nearly spilled your soda on him. Which quickly lead to both of you being naked in his floor. And you remember how sore you felt. How he picked you up and helped you take a shower.
You remembered the little things first: the smell of his hoodie, the way he’d rest his chin on your shoulder while you typed your lab reports, the warmth of his hand finding yours under the table in the campus café. And even through your relationship with Peter was a little… toxic. You remember the good times.
You could still feel it sometimes.. his fingers brushing your knuckles, acting like he didn’t do it on purpose.
Your cheeks burned a little at the next memory: that night in his dorm when you were supposed to be studying spectroscopy but ended up kissing instead. It had started as an argument over data points and ended with you pressed against the wall, laughing into his mouth because he’d whispered "Guess we’re bad at staying on topic.” Nothing more than that but it had felt like the world stopped spinning for a moment.
You swallowed hard, rolling onto your side. That used to be the best part of dating Peter…
…how easy it was to fall for him.
Until it wasn’t easy anymore.
You could still remember the fights: him forgetting plans because of “projects,” you accusing him of being distant towards you, him being more toxic, and that he rarely made time for you now.
The breakup had been quiet. No yelling, just a slow silence that neither of you wanted to break. And now here you were again, in the same room, pretending it didn’t still sting.
You sighed, pulling your blanket over your head.
“Don’t think about him” you muttered to yourself.
But then you heard the faint creak of the door.
Peter’s voice, soft “Hey. You left your phone charger on my desk.”
You peeked out from under the blanket. He was standing there, hair messy, holding the charger in one hand. The hallway light spilled across his face, and for a second you could almost see the boy from two years ago
the one who used to kiss you goodnight and whisper dumb facts just to make you smile.
“Thanks” you said quietly.
He hesitated, like he wanted to say more, then just nodded. “Goodnight, (Y/N).”
“Night.”
The door clicked shut and you lay there staring at the ceiling again, heartbeat too loud.
You told yourself you’d moved on. That you hated him. That this whole roommate thing was just bad luck.
wrote these with tasm!peter in mind but any spidey could work i suppose lol <3
☆ peter parker, who saves up extra change to buy lego sets that he wants to do with you. he even ordered custom lego minifigures of the two of you. most couples have pictures on the walls, you two have legos.
☆ peter parker, who one time showed up to your place for a date with a bouquet of lego botanical flowers, and brought a container of extra pieces he’d hung onto. when you asked him about them, he said he saved them so you could make a vase for the flowers together. you cried. it was sweet.
☆ peter parker, who loves nothing more than to take you on late-night swings through new york. maybe sitting on the roof of a building just overlooking the city, his arm around your waist, holding you close. just watching as time seemingly stopped to just let you two take in the comfort of each other.
☆ peter parker, who loves a good movie night for a date. he’ll pick up your favorite takeout and come knocking, hands filled with snacks and something cute he found in the checkout line that reminded him of you. usually it’s a goofy little candy with a character on it that he knew would make you laugh.
☆ peter parker, who always gives you a random tidbit about the movie you’re watching— even if it’s the third time you’ve watched it together. he never forgets to tell you how aragorn’s actor broke two toes in lord of the rings: the two towers, or how yoda was originally a monkey with a cane.
☆ peter parker, who remembers everything you like or even mention in passing. once you mentioned a commercial about a new ice cream flavor from your favorite brand? he’s got two pints waiting for you in the freezer for when you come home. and that time you tried a new food on a date and couldn’t find it anywhere else? he’s already looked into recipes to try and recreate it for you on your next date night.
☆ peter parker, who’s favorite place to kiss you is your forehead. it’s simple but meaningful, and he feels so protective over you when doing it. he loves it especially when he pulls back, and the faint blush sets on your cheeks from the warmth.
☆ peter parker, who sends you selfies on his nights out being the friendly neighborhood’s spider-man. expect pictures with blurry backgrounds as he attempts to take them mid-swing, and some with bad guys in the background as he shows off his accomplishments.
☆ peter parker, who loves to do the iconic spider-man kiss. he calls it “our thing”. one night you were walking back from a friends place and just as you stopped to let him know you were home, he slowly dropped in front of you upside down, mask half off. “so did you plan to send that before or after you got in?”, he said with a small smirk. you rolled your eyes, then laughed and pulled him in for a kiss. since that night, he never misses the chance to do it.
☆ peter parker, who keeps a polaroid in his wallet of you wearing his spidey mask. you always tell him that it’s the worst picture of you to keep with him but he couldn’t disagree more— it’s the most adorable thing he’d ever seen. it never fails to bring a smile to his face when life gets to be a little too much.
