I Need Part 5 Now

i need part 5 now

Pen pals - p. parker (part four)

pairing; TASM! peter parker x fem! reader

read part one, part two, and part three before this!!<3

summary: you land in new york with no difficulties, besides one. you realized that peter was kind of cute, maybe more. maybe sleep would drown your thoughts out?

a/n: hey guys!!! idek how many more parts i’m gonna make. maybe like 3 more. idk. bare with me. i’m kinda just going with the flow. anyway, enjoy reading💗💗

Peter knew that you’d be feeling many things after the flight. Jet-lagged, hungry, tired, and maybe crabby. He tried to prepare the best he could. The 3-hour jump ahead in time for you might take a while to get used to. He had everything waiting back at home.

Peter wanted to be cool and collected. But, he wasn’t. His heart was pounding with worry.

“What if I don’t meet her expectations?”

Peter’s question earns an annoyed glare from May.

“Be serious, Peter,” May lightly smacks his arm, “Y/N flew all this way to come see you. Why would she have any expectations? She clearly likes you for who you are.”

Peter sighs, anxiously waiting by the gate you would come out of any minute now.

“Does she?” Peter asks, “I mean, she doesn’t know I’m–”

May nudges him. “Your girl’s here.”

And there you were.

You had clearly just been sleeping, the squint in your eyes was evidence of that. You had on a basic outfit, athletic shorts, and a baggy T-shirt. You looked even prettier in person, just like he predicted. Peter couldn’t form any words to signify where he was, all he could do was walk toward you, accidentally walking into people in the process.

When you finally notice Peter, he was only a couple of steps away.

You drop everything in your hands, not caring about it going everywhere.

Peter doesn’t even say anything before hugging you. It was a bone-crushing hug.

“You’re real,” Peter says, squeezing you tightly- not planning to let go.

“I’m real,” You sniffle, squeezing him right back.

Peter pulls back slightly, wiping away your tears. “Don’t cry,” He coos, “Happy tears, right?”

You nod, looking up at him. His calloused fingers were on your face, taking in every feature.

“You’re really tall,” You laugh, hugging him again.

Peter kind of wants to cry too. Your perfume, soft hair, and warm skin were so overwhelming. It was a good kind of overwhelming.

“May’s waiting for us,” Peter smiles.

You resort to holding Peter’s hand as you grab your stuff and walk over to May.

May was on the verge of tears too. She hugged you and whispered something in your ear that Peter wished he could hear because whatever she said made you flustered.

“Stop it, May,” You laugh, “He’s literally right here.”

You and May were still hugging. Peter raises an eyebrow at May, to which she shrugs and kisses your cheek.

“Shall we go home now?” Peter asks, interlinking your fingers once again.

“Shall,” You snort, walking off with May. Peter follows close behind, holding your suitcase.

The ride to Peter and May’s place was fascinating to you. Peter could see it written all over your face.

“New York is weird,” You look over at Peter while the three of you are on the train.

“The weirdest,” Peter agreed. “One day I was sw– walking around, and a guy in a huge dinosaur costume approached me and somehow knew my name. It was really strange.”

“Hm,” You nodded, resting your head on Peter’s shoulder.

Peter looked over at May when he saw your eyes close. He smirked, and May smirked right back.

When you all made it back home, Peter showed you around.

“There’s the bathroom- and uh, I got you some stuff,” He says shyly, holding up a little box labeled ‘Y/N’s’. “Toiletries. I didn’t really know what to get, so May tried to help.”

You frown.

“What? I thought I was being chivalric here,” Peter grins.

“Did you actually buy me all of this? This is expensive stuff, Peter.”

He looks away, setting down the box. “You’re not gonna want to see my room.”

“Peter,” You sigh.

“Just– come here,” He grabs you by your wrist and leads you to his room.

Peter opens the door to his room, and you’re met with a lot of things. On his bed, he displayed all of your favorite treats, along with a little teddy bear dressed as the Statue of Liberty.

You look at Peter with wide eyes. He can tell that you’re almost on the verge of tears.

“I would’ve bought more touristy stuff, but I figured you might want to do some yourself…” Peter shrugs, leaning in his doorway. “Come here, bug. You look sad.”

“I’m not sad,” You say, voice barely a whisper as you walk over to him.

Peter hugs your shoulders. “What’s wrong, then?”

You fidget with his hoodie strings. “It’s hard to believe that you’re real.”

“I’m real, I promise,” Peter whispers, kissing your forehead.

Peter was doing everything in his power to not confess his undying love for you right then and there.

~

Nighttime rolled around quicker than expected. The first day in New York was mostly spent in the house, but you wouldn’t have traded it for anything. You, Peter, and May played Uno. May demolished you both. Peter swore that it was just a lucky day for her. You laughed, replaying Peter’s frustrated groans in your head over and over again-

Ugh.

That’s the other problem. Stupid Peter and his stupid face, voice, and mouth. How dare he be sculpted like a god? How dare he have such a scratchy, soothing voice? It’s quite literally driving you crazy, and you haven’t even been here for a day.

“Are you sure I can take your bed?” You ask, putting on one of Peter’s hoodies.

He gulped. “Yeah! Yeah- it’s okay. Don’t worry about it. Can’t have a pretty girl sleeping on that old couch, right?” He kisses your cheek and grabs his backpack. “Sorry I have to go. Night classes are so stupid.”

“It’s okay,” You shrug, “Are you gonna sleep in here?”

“I can if you want me to.”

You nod, “Can you?”

“Of course, lovie. Go lay down, now. It’s late,” Peter guides you to his bed, his hand on the small of your back. He tucks you in, smiling widely. “‘Kay, bye!”

And then he leaves. You cuddle with one of his pillows, and it smelled like him.

You were so fucked.

~

At around 2 am, you are rudely waken up by something falling loudly and a not-so-whispered curse.

You assume it’s Peter trying to navigate being in the dark after getting home from his class. Wanting to surprise him, you tip-toe down the stairs, and sneak through the living room.

Instead of being met with Peter, you’re met with… Spider-Man?

Wait.

That can’t be right.

Why is Spider-Man, New York’s hero, digging in May and Peter’s fridge, eating everything he sees?

Your first instinct is to back away. Maybe he thinks this is his house. He doesn’t break into houses, does he?

Then, your foot steps on a creaky floorboard, and Spider-Man looks up from the fridge.

You are met with none other than Peter’s wide, brown eyes staring at you.

— read about me and find my masterlist here :3

tearing up 

"You deserve all the flowers."

Relationship: TASM!Peter Parker x Reader Drabble Summary: Peter brings you flowers every night and you're just not sure why. Word Count: 740 A/N: what?? what??? a new drabble - a FRESHLY written drabble? i got so excited last night when I finally had the motivation/inspiration to write. this is over on the word count for my usual drabbles but it's under 1k so i think it still counts lmao i hope you enjoy!!

Masterlist

You swore one of these days Peter was going to turn your apartment into a full-blown greenhouse. You didn’t know how it started or why he always showed up with flowers but your kitchen was crowded with vases and it was slowly spilling over into your living room.

And now here Peter, still in his Spider-Man suit, was once again entering your apartment through your fire escape window while gripping another bouquet. He brought you daisies this time. They were very fragrant; their scent filled your bedroom immediately.

"Hi, sweetheart," Peter muttered after he pulled off his mask. "I picked these up for you tonight. I hope they’re okay, I don’t think I’ve gotten you daisies in a while."

You couldn’t help but smile as you took the fresh flowers from him. "Thank you, Peter. They’re lovely," you replied. He had most certainly just gotten you daisies last week but you weren’t going to mention it. That bunch was in your kitchen, blooming and bright.

Peter planted a kiss on your cheek before shuffling aside your open textbooks and flopping on his unofficial official side of your bed. You were just finishing up studying for your college midterms when he came in.

You took in Peter’s exhausted form. He didn’t look too beat up, just a bit tired, which put you at ease. You weren’t a stranger to this situation. Peter would come to your apartment following his patrol, flowers in hand, ready to talk about nothing and everything before you both inevitably drifted off to sleep. But you’d never go to bed before the flowers were taken care of. Even though Peter brought you a plethora of them—so much so you were having to seriously get creative with the vases—each one melted your heart. Each one was special and deserved proper attention.

You cared for them because he cared enough to get them. But you never quite understood why it was so consistent. Did other girls want this many flowers?

"What were you working on?" Peter asked as he flipped through one of your textbooks. You watched his eyes skim the page.

"Philosophy," you answered, but it wasn’t like you had to. "I have a midterm coming up."

"Oh, yeah, we’re at that time of the year," he sighed. "Do you want me to quiz you on anything tonight?"

You shook your head and gently pulled the book from his hands. You closed the cover and shut your notebooks all while still coddling the bouquet of daisies. "Peter, can I ask you something?"

"Sure," he responded, his voice very level. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, of course," you assured him, "I just wanted to ask about the flowers."

He frowned. "The flowers?"

You nodded as you fiddled with the stems of the daisies. "They’re really beautiful and so thoughtful of you, it’s just…"

"What?" Peter gulped. "Do you not like them?"

"No," you insisted, "no, that’s not it at all. I love them so much. But I’m just curious… Why? Why do you bring me flowers every night?"

Your sweet boyfriend let out a sigh of relief at your question. "That’s what that big build-up was for?" He teased.

Your cheeks grew warm. "My apartment is drowning in flowers, Peter."

"There’s still room," he said with a shrug. "But to answer your question I… I guess it gives me something to focus on, a goal to have at the end of the night. It’s not always crazy out there but there’s been some things that have gotten to me and it’s just part of what keeps me going. I gotta protect the great people of this city and I gotta bring you flowers." Peter sighed. "I love you so much, sweetheart, and you deserve all the flowers."

An ache stabbed its way through your chest. Your grip on the flowers tightened as a tear threatened to spill out. Your reaction felt a little dramatic but your boyfriend’s words were just what you needed to hear.

"Oh, honey…" You nearly cried as you leaned over to place a kiss on his lips. He was also almost crying but still happily reciprocated the affection.

Peter sniffled. "I’m sorry I’ve been drowning you in flowers."

You shook your head and let out a breathy laugh. "I don’t mind anymore. Please drown me in flowers forever, babe."

"Forever," Peter repeated with a smile. "Absolutely. Forever. I can do forever."

cutest thing ever somebody shoot me omg

Another one?! Ugh, I get bored at work, okay?!

3. And on it goes

Part 1 - The apartment

Part 2 - the late-night

Part 3 - the shirt

 Warnings: kissing and touching, mentions of sex.

P.S. This is the top:

Cider

Solid Rib Zip Up Collar Knitted Bodysuit - Cider

Solid Rib Zip Up Collar Knitted Bodysuit - Cider - Composition: 20% nylon 80% viscose - Stretch: High - Fit Type: Regular - Fabric Thickness

----------------------------------------------------------

     She unzipped her makeup bag and dumped the contents onto the dining table. There was a new exhibit at the science centre on Da Vinci - one of her childhood idols - and Miguel had gotten them tickets to go see it that weekend. He’d listened with amusement as she’d gone on a rant about how his ingenuity in maths and engineering had gone under-appreciated due to the popularity of his artwork. ‘You’re so cute when you go all nerd-mode,’ he’d teased her, prompting that adorable little glare out of her. Then he’d leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of her head and her features had relaxed into a smile again. 

     “Do you want the same stuff or do you want to get some new ones?” Miguel asked, walking over to her and gesturing to the makeup spread across the table. X looked up at him in confusion, so he repeated himself. “Your makeup. Should I buy the same ones or do you want to get some new stuff?”

     “What? Why are we buying me new makeup?” X asked, that puzzled expression still on her face. The corners of Miguel’s lips twitched as he looked down at her. 

     “So you can just keep it over here,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “Then you don't have to keep carrying everything around all the time.” 

     She relaxed and smiled, amused by the idea. “Thanks, but your cupboard is a mess, querido. And I don’t think there’d be enough space anyway.” 

     She picked up her concealer to begin dabbing it under her eyes, but Miguel placed his hand down on the table in front of her, stopping her. She looked up and raised an eyebrow in question when she saw the delighted grin stretched across his face. He held a hand out to her and pulled her up when she took it, guiding her up to the master bathroom. She smiled as he dragged her along, his excitement rubbing off on her, then he stopped to cover her eyes with his hands before pushing her into the bathroom. 

     “What do you think?” Miguel asked once he’d removed his hands from her face. She stared at the new mirrored cabinet he’d had installed for her, just waiting for her to fill it up, and her eyes dampened with tears at the sight. Miguel watched her reflection uncertainly, his nerves growing with every second of speechlessness that passed by. Was it too soon? Did she not like it? Had he just come up with the worst possible idea ever? Ay, Dios, he should have just asked her first if that was what she wa-

     “I love it!” X finally declared, her voice coming out as a whisper around the lump in her throat. She turned to face him, her kind and sweet and caring boyfriend, and her heart swelled with love for him. “I love you, querido. Like, so much.” 

     Miguel grinned and pulled her into his chest, hugging her tight. “I love you like so much too, querida.” 

     She snickered as he pressed his lips to the top of her head, then she pulled back and stretched onto her toes to reward him with a kiss. “Te amo, mi araña.”

     Miguel bent over to give her an ever deeper kiss, then he wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close to him. “Te amo también, mi arañita.” 

     She was standing in the pantry chatting to some of the interns when he’d gone to grab a coffee. She’d looked so pretty with her curly hair and her warm smile and the f*cking sexy knitted cream top he’d never seen on her before that his stomach had tightened immediately at the sight of her. 

     “Arañita,” he’d called her, his features set into a hard expression as he’d waited for her to look up at him. He nodded to his office, then turned on his heel without waiting for her to follow. “My office. Now.” X bounced along behind him, struggling to keep up with his long strides as they made their way to his office. Was it her shirt? It was probably her shirt. She’d thought she’d look great in it when she’d seen it online and she’d probably been right. She locked the door behind her once they were inside, then turned to give Miguel an innocent smile as she waited for him to speak. 

     He sighed and leaned against his desk once they were alone. He looked up at her, his eyes darkening as they drifted over her tight little body, then he shook his head and gestured for her to make her way to him. 

     “Miguel?” she asked him cautiously, her steps slow and hesitant as she walked over to him. “Is something wrong?” He curled his fingers around her waist when she was close enough, tugging her to him so he could stroke his thumbs across the soft material of her shirt. 

     “Querida,” he whined, admiring how soft and cuddly she looked in the cream-coloured fabric. He slid his hands up her back and stood up to pull her into his chest. “You can’t dress like this for work, amor: it's too distracting.”

     “Ha!” X barked out, a rush of victory shooting through her at the helplessness in his voice. She waited for him to straighten and grinned at the miserable expression on his face as he looked down at her. Then she slid her hands into his hair and ruffled it teasingly, causing him to frown in irritation. “That sounds like a ‘you’ problem, querido. It's not my fault you can't control your reproductive system around me.”

     “!Coño, arañita!” Miguel groaned, scowling at her naughty words. He brushed her hair away from her face, then lay his head on her shoulder, burying his face in the crook of her neck. “Don't say it like that. It only makes me want to f*ck you more.”

     “Miguel!” X gasped, hitting him on the shoulder. She scrunched her features up at him when he straightened and leaned closer to him, stretching onto her toes to reach his face. “You're so dirty, querido!” She lowered herself back down, then tried to turn around so she could return to her work. But Miguel kept his hold on her, his powerful arms easily tugging her back into his chest. 

     “What time do you finish today?” he asked, bending over to mumble in her ear. X giggled at the way his breath tickled the side of her neck. 

     “I dunno,” she shrugged, purposely keeping her answer vague. “I’ll see how it goes.” Miguel pulled back and frowned at her, exactly as she’d expected he would. 

     “Querida.” X grinned at the warning in his voice. 

     “You tell me what time you finish, boss,” she suggested instead. “I'll wait.”

     Mierda. She knew what it did to him, every time she called him ‘boss’ or ‘Dr O'Hara’, especially with that cheeky smile on her face. Dios, she drove him crazy. He pulled her back to him to give her another hug, then he pressed his lips to her forehead before finally releasing her. 

     “Vale. I'll try to finish early today,” he promised her, following after her as she walked over to the door. He reached over and grabbed the handle before she could, taking advantage of their positions to slide his hand over her ass. He leaned over to murmur in her ear, “hasta pronto, arañita,” then gave her butt a little squeeze, causing her to wriggle with delight. X smiled and chucked her shoulder into him in annoyance. 

     “Hasta pronto, mi araña.” He groaned at her words, his head falling back in defeat and she giggled at his reaction before stretching onto her toes to press a quick kiss to his cheek. Finally, he opened the door and leaned against the doorframe as he watched her scurry back to her work. He sighed when she’d disappeared and returned to his own desk, already counting down the minutes until they could go home and he could rip that sexy little shirt off of her. 

     He brushed his tongue against hers as he pushed her into his bedroom, his hands wandering all over her body. They’d already been dating for almost three months now, but he was still all over her like it was the first week of their relationship. She smiled against his lips as she stumbled backwards, held up by his strong arms. 

     “Miguel!” X giggled as he shoved her backwards onto his bed and started pulling her pants off. “Slow down, querido.” 

     Dios, he loved it when she called him that. He took his trousers off before climbing back on top of her and pinning her down against his bed. Then he slid his hands into hers and groaned into her mouth as he pressed his lips back to hers, relishing the feeling of her small body beneath him. He couldn’t believe that it had already been three months since that first night at her place; three months of them sneaking around the office and going on dates after work and staying up late over the weekends having amazing sex. He slipped one hand between her legs to undo her top and she took the opportunity to begin unbuttoning his shirt. 

     “What …” Miguel pulled back as he fiddled with her buttons and X quickly moved her lips to his neck instead. She tugged on his skin with her teeth and slid her hands up his hard chest, but he couldn’t even enjoy it thanks to the damn buttons on her shirt. Miguel sighed and sat back, his brows furrowing in irritation. 

     “Why do you always get these shirts?!” he exclaimed, gesturing to the shirt that was hugging her curves in just the way he wanted to. “Why can't you just wear normal clothes?!”

     X pushed herself up to her elbows, her expression incredulous. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t think about how easy it’d be to rip off when I was getting it! And anyway, you weren’t complaining when you were talking about effing me in the office earlier!” 

     Miguel frowned and let out a huff as he placed his hands on his hips. It did look really good on her, especially the delicious little slice down the middle that he’d unzipped to expose just a hint of her breasts to him. He sighed and turned back to her. “Fine. We'll get you some new clothes tomorrow.”

     He bent over her again, closing his eyes and pursing his lips as he prepared to kiss her. But she stopped him with a hand on his mouth, scoffing in disbelief as she did so. 

     “Are you insane?! It’s literally two buttons, Miguel! It’s not that hard!” X sat up and undid the buttons with ease, giving her the space to pull her underwear off. “God, how'd you even survive your PhD?” Her lips curled back into a smile as she tossed her underwear aside and waited for his response. Miguel scowled at her and slid his hands beneath her shirt to slip it off along with her bra. 

     “My PhD was in genetics,” he informed her, his mind turning fuzzy as her delicious little body became exposed to him. “Not fashion … whatever.” He glided his hands up her sides and cupped her breasts gently, then circled her nipples with his thumbs, teasing her. She giggled and his stomach flipped at the adorable expression on her face: Dios, she was cute. X pushed his shirt off and climbed onto his lap, settling herself on top of him. 

     “'Fashion whatever'? Mmm, you're really helping your case, Miguel,” she joked, starting to roll her hips against his. Miguel squeezed her waist, his cock already starting to harden as she rubbed her soft p*ssy against him. 

     “Callate, arañita,” he mumbled, shifting around to lay her down on the pillows. Mierda, she looked beautiful, lying on his bed with her hair all spread out across his pillows. Miguel lowered himself on top of her and X curled herself around him immediately. 

     “Yes, boss,” she replied, flashing him that mischievous smile that drove him crazy. He sighed and hung his head in defeat. 

     “F*ck.”

she knows her so well

hobie x fem! reader

thinking of hobie brown rn…!

hobie who knows you love the height difference between you two and uses it to his advantage. is constantly angling his head upwards, which causes him to purposely peer down at you through his thick eyelashes. you always get flustered each time he narrows his eyes and tilts his chin, and him being the ever so perceptive spider he is, takes notice of your heated cheeks and continues to do so.

whenever he’s near a doorway or a thick frame he lovesss to lay a palm on the top of it, trapping your body beneath his as you ramble on about whatever it is you’re rambling about. he makes sure to nod along while effectively moving a hand towards your plush waist, bringing your figure flush against his own. he plays with the seam of your shirt, and urges you to keep going when you stutter from the sudden change in position.

hobie who loves to annoy you with his British slang. it’s not necessarily because he uses it often that irks you, it’s the fact that you have no idea what he’s saying and he never makes an effort to help you understand. (he actually finds it amusing each time you attempt to guess what he means and is completely off base every single time).

“babe, I’d love ta get ya that shirt you’ve been beggin’ for, but I’m skint right now. try me next week, yeah?” he hummed, kicking his feet up on the railing next to your bed.

“skint? I feel like you’ve used that one before..” you muttered, huffing in irritation by the smug look on hobie’s face, his lips quirked in amusement.

“told ya what it meant last week. thought ya said you could ‘se context clues?”

“whatever bee, maybe you should speak english.”

“‘aint that what ‘m doin’?”

hobie who always has a blunt neatly rolled on his dresser, his ash tray placed gently to the left of it. he often smoked before running off to whatever it is he did when he wasn’t home (he was very unpredictable as he switched it up weekly to “fuck up consistency” whatever the hell that meant).

hobie inhaled gingerly before tilting his head towards his peeling painted ceiling, his fingers lingered tightly on the wood before lifting it to your lips, “want a go?”

you shook your head, nuzzling further into his shoulder, “mhm no, too tired.” hobie chuckled before greedily puffing the joint, shuttering at the burning feeling it left.

“suit yourself love, more for me.”

hobie who you introduce differently to your friends each time you bring him up. one day he’s your boyfriend, the next he’s your significant other, and the next he’s your ‘close friend’. they always question the constant switch ups, but you don’t ever seem to mind. you know where you stand with the man, and to him that’s all that matters.

“so what’s up with you and…..” your friend trailed off, stirring the ice in her drink.

“hobie?” you questioned.

“yeah him, so is he your boyfriend or what?”

“it’s complicated, he hates labels, makes him feel confined.” you replied, shrugging your shoulders as you lay your head on your palm.

“that doesn’t bother you? is he like scared of commitment or something?”

you scoff, lightly shaking your head, “no, he just doesn’t want to contribute to the system.” you answered bluntly, taking another sip of your lemonade.

“the system?” your friend asked, eyebrow raised at the quip.

“nevermind, don’t worry about it.”

hobie who subtly brags about you to his people. loves to show you off, and has no problem admitting he does.

“yeah bruv, my girl jus’ got into her dream fuckin’ college. been workin’ hard for that shit all year, man.” hobie boasted, pushing his hands out in order to bounce off the wall next to him.

“oh my goodness how wonderful! when do we get to meet this companion of yours?” pavitr questioned, flinging his body upwards to keep up with the male to his right.

“eh, don’t know yet, when I feel like it, yeah?”

all in all hobie is so cute and I literally am in love with him!!

i have this headcannon that whenever miguel is super super tired he only speaks in spanish, being too exhausted to translate