Hi Jade

Hi jade <3 If you’re ever in the mood to write Peter, can I request a reader who’s scared of spiders & the irony of this is not lost on him but he’s still sweet and doesn’t hold it against her lol. Sending love!!

thank you for your request angel!! boyfriend!peter x fem!reader

Peter's skateboard sounds like a storm as he rolls in, wheels grinding the uneven asphalt path to his house. It thunks over the first paving stone. Peter hops off and kicks it up into his waiting hand smoothly. 

He smiles like he's being presented with a real treat. 

"Hey," he says, "did you text me?" 

You bump your knees together. Peter bends just a little at the waist to talk to you face to face where you perch.

"I called you, but I figured you'd be away from the phone," you say lightly. "What are you listening to?" 

Peter hands you his phone, tucking an earphone into your ear with practised ease, and stands, pulling the keys from his pocket. He makes a confused sound when the door locks rather than opens. 

"It's open?" he asks. 

"I used the spare key." You get to your feet, his music playing in your ear. "That's okay, right?" 

"That's why I told you where it is," he says fondly. He leans down to give you a quick kiss, his face lined with a usual playfulness, his smile laid over yours. "Why are we out here, then, waiting for me?" 

"Can you play the song you showed me on Friday?" you ask rather than hurt his feelings. 

"It's on there," he says. After a moment he ducks back to find it for you on his playlist, Is This It by The Strokes. He'd played it for you somewhere between heavy kisses and asking if you'd play with his hair. "Did you eat?" 

Peter pushes the front door open and tries to pull you in with him, his hand on your wrist amicably, more insistent when you don't follow. He grins at you, hands vying for your underarms. "Is this a new kind of game you want to play?" he asks.

You let him grab you, but plant your feet. His earphone pops from your ear to dangle between you, and he apologises unnecessarily. He gets so concerned over little things, you know he won't give you shit for why you'd really been outside, but that doesn't make telling him less humiliating.   

"Peter," you say, "don't laugh, but there was a really big spider in there, and I lost it, and I don't know where it went. I can't go back in there." 

Peter, to his credit, really doesn't laugh. "How big?"

You show him with your hand. He snorts, but when he looks up it's without any condescension. "You see the irony, right? I'm the biggest spider you're ever going to meet. You scared of me?" 

"No," you mumble, tilting your head back as he dips forward to kiss you under the ear. His arms wrap around your back and you let the entirety of your weight fall against him, a strange and intrinsic pleasure in knowing he wouldn't ever drop you. "You're not gonna bite me." 

He laughs into your neck. "I don't know… I could definitely bite you." 

"You're not venomous, though." 

Peter stands up and pulls you up to full height. "Where was it, pretty girl? I'll go catch it." 

"In the kitchen? I spilled a glass of water, sorry, it kind of shocked me." 

"It's okay. You're scared of spiders, you can't help it. I'll catch it and let it out here, how's that? Find something for us to listen to after, I was thinking we'd make fresh pasta?" He walks as he talks, disappearing into his house, voice bouncing off of the walls. "Where was it?" 

"By the sink," you call. 

"Top or underneath?" 

"By the faucets, Pete!" 

Peter opens a cabinet. There's quiet for a minute, a nerve-wracking silence that makes you think he's found it and is planning to sneak up on you with it, but there's a plastic sound and then he shouts, "I have it!" 

You scramble away from the door and Peter walks out with it slowly, palm sized spider with fierce looking legs and fangs trapped between a tupperware container and a place mat. Disgusted, you stand as far away from him as you can while he crosses the street and lets it out into the tall grass. 

He shows you the plastic is empty before he jogs at you, throwing an arm over your shoulders. He rubs the top of your arm. "Better?" he asks. 

Being scared of spiders feels juvenile, but the fear remains regardless of the attitude toward it, and his actual sincere care makes you love him even more. It's always evident how much Peter loves you, but especially now.

"Thank you," you say, going on toes to kiss his cheek. Your sneakers squeak as you keep up with him, following him back into the house. 

"Anything else you want me to do?" he asks, presenting his cheek proudly. "I like the reward. You smell really nice right now, what is that?"

"The pink one you got me. Love and Sugar, or something." 

He lifts his chin, as if to say, Kiss? You press another to his cheek over the first. He deserves more than kisses, but it's what you have. 

"I'm glad you're not scared of me," he says. 

"You're not scary." 

He raises his brows, looking down at you with the tip of his tongue pressed behind his top teeth. "Yeah?" he asks. 

You kiss his bottom lip, uncaring of his open mouth. "Not scary at all," you murmur. 

"Suddenly, I'm okay with that." 

Honest Character

Jake Peralta x Reader - Dating the Captain's daughter [1.2K Words]

The Brooklyn summer heat had taken a toll on the city. Everyone at the office was dripping through their shirts this morning due to the absence of air conditioning, courtesy of a broken fuse that impacted all of New York City. The entire squad was forced to dress summer casual, looking like a bunch of vacationers that had washed up into the precinct, with only Capitan Holt abiding to the work-place dress code.

So, when you walked into the police station with your yellow sundress swaying up your thighs, Jake Peralta had no choice but to look you up and down like a tall glass of water. With sunglasses adorning your head like a crown, you walked straight into the Captain’s office without saying a single word. The Captain had shut his office door behind you, forbidding any eavesdropping of the conversation.

“Jake, stop staring down the new sketch artist,” Terry commanded from his desk, “You’re going to scare her away before she even starts.”

The detective turned towards Terry, confusion running through his brows, “We hired a new sketch artist? How come I was never told this?”

“Because you always hit on the new hires,” Rosa chimed in dropping off a shared file onto Jakes desk, “Holt asked us all to keep her transfer a secret until she got here.”

Keep reading

— IF I CAN’T HAVE YOU BABY

pairing: mattheo riddle x nott!reader

summary: you weren't quite used to the attention of other boys, and it seems your brother's best friend isn't too fond of it either

warnings: brother's best friend trope!! swearing, kissing, not much else, very much unedited

author’s note: i don't tend to stray outside of the marauders era characters buuuut i've been a bit obsessed with mattheo and theo recently so this was for my own selfish needs lol as always let me know what you think!!

He had barely looked away from you all evening.

You knew the only reason Mattheo’s eyes had been fixed on you for the entirety of dinner was because of a certain type of attention you had unconsciously garnered on your first day back at school. Particularly male attention. It wasn’t any less disconcerting, however, knowing that your brother’s best friend was prepared to fist fight any potential romantic advances towards you because he was just as protective as your actual older sibling.

Your brother Theodore is no better, a displeased frown appearing every five minutes when he looks over to where you sit at the Gryffindor table.

“Merlin, boys are pathetic,” Ginny mutters, spearing a potato with her fork. “You go away for one summer and come back slightly prettier and they flock to you like bees to honey!” You’re about to weakly protest that she’s exaggerating, but at that exact moment you’re interrupted by a tap on your shoulder.

You slowly turn on the bench, reluctantly lowering your goblet of pumpkin juice to face Michael Corner, a Ravenclaw boy who you’d only ever spoken to when he was going out with Ginny.

“Hi, Michael,” you sigh, offering him a bland smile.

“Hello, Nott,” Michael replies, with what he probably thinks is a winning smile. “Had a good summer? I was just going to ask if you wanted to go on the first Hogsmeade visit of the term with me.”

You stare at him, unblinking. “Er- well, as… nice as that sounds,” you say slowly, not meaning a word. You glance at Ginny as pointedly as you can manage and raise an eyebrow. “I don’t quite relish the idea of going out with my best friend’s ex.”

“Oh! I, erm, I didn’t actually see you there, Ginny,” he stammers, laughing sheepishly. “My mistake.”

“Quite,” Ginny says drily, turning back to her plate of food.

“Well, er, see you later then,” Michael mumbles, nearly tripping over himself as he rushes back to the Ravenclaw table.

You bite your lip to stifle your giggles but it’s not long before you catch Ginny’s eye and the both of you erupt into fits of laughter.

“I can’t believe I ever went out with him,” Ginny groans, wiping her eyes.

“Was he always such a tosser or is that new?” you ask, snorting at the way Ginny scrunches up her face in embarrassment.

You’re still laughing when your eyes happen to pass over the Slytherin table just to focus on Mattheo.

You notice with a jolt that he’s looking at you again. This time, his eyes flick over to the Ravenclaw table for a second where Michael has settled back onto, then back to you and he quirks a brow quizzically.

Frowning, you mouth at him to stop in hopes that he ceases his scrutiny, just for him to roll his eyes and return to whatever one-sided conversation Blaise Zabini was attempting to engage him in. You hope you don’t look as flustered as you feel after realising Mattheo has just witnessed such an embarrassing encounter, but you’ve found over the years that you’re not the best at hiding the effects he has on you. Theo has never mentioned it in front of Mattheo as far as you’re aware, but he definitely hasn’t shied away from teasing you about the childhood crush you have on your brother’s closest friend. Not that you’ve ever admitted it to him anyway, and you’ve gotten a lot better at hiding it since nothing could ever come of it.

“Your brother and Riddle have been looking like they’re ready to halve the male population of Hogwarts since we got on the bloody train,” Ginny says, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Tell me about it,” you sigh, cutting into your carrot a little more viciously than needed. “They keep looking over at our table. I feel like I’m on one of those Muggle reality television programmes Hermione was telling your dad about the other week.”

Arthur Weasley was absolutely transfixed when he was learning about reality television from Hermione during breakfast the week you both stayed at The Burrow, and although you zoned out after his sixteenth question about a singular programme, you feel as though you caught the gist of it.

“Hm,” Ginny agrees, grimacing at the memory. She had nodded off at the table during that conversation and fallen asleep on her slice of toast. “In fairness, that’s not really a new thing.”

“What, being watched by my two guard dogs?” you ask in a mock-serious voice.

“Yeah, but…” Ginny chews thoughtfully for a second before answering. “I’m not just talking about today, or even recently. Your brother mostly minds his own business. I’m talking about Riddle. He’s always looking at you, I noticed it last year. Wherever we are, kind of like he’s checking up on you,” she says like it’s common knowledge, shrugging. “It’s sweet, I guess.”

You blink at her, a little speechless.

“What?” Ginny frowns after a few seconds of your silence. You look at her with raised eyebrows, not really taking her seriously. In your first few years at Hogwarts, you had confided in Ginny regarding your silly, little girl feelings for Mattheo and she would read into every action he took towards you in an attempt to prove he liked you too. Obviously, he saw you as nothing but a younger sister figure and once you grew up a bit, Ginny had let it go too.

Ginny reads your dubious expression now and sets down her knife and fork to cross her arms. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. I’m serious! I’m not just saying it because you were helplessly in love with him until you were, like, fourteen.”

“Shush!” you hiss, thwacking her arm. “Why don’t you just get up on stage with Dumbledore and ask him to include that titbit of information for the entire school to hear in his speech!”

“Good idea,” she says, nodding seriously and starting to get up. You know she’s just teasing, but you start spluttering and frantically grab at her sleeve to sit her back down, causing her to topple onto you slightly. This sets you both off laughing again and you find it hard to stop for the rest of dinner and desert, thankfully staying far away from the topic of Mattheo. You also pointedly avoid looking at him again.

Once dinner is over, you head to the Gryffindor common room with the rest of your house and catch up with everyone for a while. After a couple hours of socialising and fifteen minutes of helping Neville Longbottom search for his pet toad, you head up to your dorm with Ginny and Lena, one of your other dormmates, to unpack.

As soon as you open your luggage, you search for your pyjamas and immediately change out of your robes and into a t-shirt and baggy shorts for comfort. You’re in the middle of unpacking some textbooks when you hear Lena whistle from behind you.

“I do not remember those pyjamas looking like that,” Lena comments, grinning at you. Rolling your eyes, you comply with her request to do a little spin and you can’t help feeling pleased when Lena and Ginny start whooping and hollering. “You’ve always been gorgeous, but you really grew up this summer, huh? Look at those legs!”

“Tell me about it,” Ginny pipes in, flopping down on her bed and abandoning her unpacked suitcase. “She came to stay for a week and Mum looked like she was going to cry every time she saw us. Something about ‘blossoming into young ladies’ or whatever bollocks.”

“You ‘blossomed’ last year,” you point out, and Lena hums in agreement. “I haven’t forgotten how Zacharias Smith fell off his broom trying to wave at you during Quidditch practice.”

Ginny groans and starts ranting about teenage boys again. Lena joins in and starts teasing her about how Harry Potter is the only boy she hasn’t complained about and you’re about to set down your belongings to help Lena dodge the pillows Ginny is throwing at her when a flash of green and silver in your suitcase catches your eye.

“Shite, I have Theo’s uniform,” you huff, grabbing the clothes out of your suitcase and sliding your slippers on. “That means he has mine and I am not dealing with this at seven in the morning. I’m gonna go drop this off, be back in a minute.”

Ginny says goodbye before resuming her pillow attack on Lena as you make your way out of the room and down into the common room. It’s nearly empty, with most people having gone to their rooms to pack and a quick glance at the clock tells you its past curfew. You decide to take the risk since you have a reasonable excuse, but you hope that if you do get caught, it isn’t by Filch or Snape.

By the time you’ve reached the dungeons, you thank Merlin that Theo had the sense to tell you the password for the Slytherin common room before dinner in case of emergency.

“Pureblood,” you mutter, fighting the urge to scoff when the door swings open. You enter the common room and brighten up when you see that the only students still hanging around are Theo and his friends. Your brother seems to have already started unpacking since he’s standing and holding your uniform, presumably about to come and find you. His friends all mumble polite ‘hello’s and he walks up to you with a smile.

“Oh, hey, I was just-” Theo cuts himself off when he properly looks at you and frowns. “Wha- Why are you wearing pyjamas out and about?”

“You’re wearing pyjamas too!” you exclaim, slightly embarrassed that your brother is doing this in front of your friends. They all turn to look at you again, hearing the indignation in Theo’s voice and you notice Mattheo suddenly sits up straighter. Suddenly aware of your bare legs, you tug down the material of your shorts, despite the fact they aren’t even very short to begin with.

“Oi. Stop looking at my sister!”” Theo snaps, glaring at Blaise, Draco, Crabbe and Goyle. You know the only reason they glanced at you in the first place is out of curiosity regarding Theo’s question, but Theo and Mattheo scowl at them all the same and they all start sputtering, Draco in particular when Pansy narrows her eyes at him. Theo sighs at you, quickly exchanging your uniforms. “Just- at least take something to cover up back to your room.”

“I’ll walk her back,” Mattheo says, out of nowhere. He stands up and makes his way over to you, face carefully blank. Theo nods, agreeing quickly before he ruffles your hair goodbye to go and finish packing. You’re too surprised by Mattheo’s offer to protest until you’re already out of the Slytherin common room.

“I don’t need someone to walk me back, you know,” you mumble after a minute of charged silence.

“It was either me or Theo,” he shrugs, completely unapologetic when his mouth quirks up in a smug smile. “And I know you prefer me.”

“You’re both equally annoying,” you say, rolling your eyes, happy that he’s talking to you like normal again. You hated it whenever Mattheo was serious – it was rarely ever towards you and you much preferred when his whole face lit up with a smile. He begins to tease you about your bunny rabbit slippers and you’re in the middle of pretending to be irked when you both run into Ernie Macmillan, a Hufflepuff prefect doing patrol duties.

“Hey,” Ernie offers you a friendly smile and gives Mattheo a brief, slightly nervous glance. While you prefer not to get into trouble for breaking curfew, Mattheo clearly couldn’t care less and his relaxed, yet intimidating stance must be off-putting to Ernie. Thankfully, you’re on friendly terms with the Hufflepuff and you give him an even brighter smile to make up for it, to which he beams at. “How was your summer?”

“Good, yeah! Erm, listen Ernie. We didn’t mean to be out at this time, it’s just that I accidentally had my brother’s uniform and needed to-”

“Oh, forget it. Don’t worry, I won’t dock you any points,” Ernie reassures you, waving off your excuses and you instantly relax. Ernie gives Mattheo another unsure glance before leaning in the tiniest bit closer to you. You try not to pay attention to how Ernie has been glancing at your legs and how Mattheo tenses up when Ernie starts speaking again. “I was actually wondering if you were available next weekend…?”

Ernie trails off when you don’t show any indication of replying straight away and you snap out of your surprise to say something, but Mattheo beats you to it.

“She’s busy then,” he says coldly, working his jaw. “Now, if you don’t mind, it’s late. Kindly get lost.”

“Wha- Matt!” you hiss, smacking his chest to which he barely flinches, nor does he look at all apologetic. “Ernie, I-”

“Never mind,” he says quickly, seemingly eager to just leave. “I’ll, er, see you later.”

You stand frozen in shock while Ernie rushes down the corridor and turns the corner, leaving you and Mattheo alone. Turning slowly, you look at him with barely contained anger.

“Why the hell did you do that?” you demand, voice sharp as nails. If it weren’t past curfew and you weren’t in the middle of a school corridor, you would most definitely be yelling. Mattheo stands with his hands in his pockets, clenching his jaw and his silence makes you even angrier. You accepted long ago that you’d never have a chance with him, but now he was getting in the way of you having a chance with anyone. It was completely unfair. “What if I actually wanted to go out with him?!”

Mattheo scowls at this, but his impossibly dark brown eyes flash with a hint of uncertainty. “Did you?”

“What?” you ask, impatient.

“Did you want to go out with him?” he says, voice low and dangerous. He walks forward, towering over you and you refuse to be intimidated so you start walking backward until your back is against the wall. Despite having cornered you, he maintains a fair amount of distance between you, leaving plenty of space if you want to move away. You don’t.

“That’s none of your business,” you say stubbornly, raising your chin and trying your best to keep your voice steady. Mattheo narrows his eyes and reduces the distance between you ever so slightly with another small step. You nervously keep talking. “I can go out with whoever I want.” Another step. “And you can’t just-” One more step. “Matt.” His shoes are flush with your slippers.

“What?” he whispers, tilting his head and looking at you calmly, while you feeling anything but calm. “I can’t just… what?”

The previously respectable distance has gone out the window and instead you barely have space to breathe with the way Mattheo is leaning in, head dipped toward you but never touching, hands resting on the wall either side of you. He leans in, eyes dropping to your lips and your heart leaps in your chest with anticipation, but he ghosts his lips over your jaw instead and the barely-there contact has you breathing unevenly.

“You can’t…” you exhale, trying to finish your sentence with some dignity and failing miserably. “You can’t just scare people off like an overprotective older brother.”

Mattheo stills, lifting his head enough to meet your eyes, but making no move to distance himself any further. He scoffs quietly. “Brother,” he says the word with a mildly disgusted scowl. “Is that what you think I want to be?”

“I- I don’t…”

“You don’t know,” Mattheo finishes for you, the corners of his mouth turning up, yet his expression is devoid of humour. “No, you don’t know how badly I wanted to hex Macmillan just now. How badly I wanted to try out some new, experimental spells on that fucking Ravenclaw earlier. But none of that had anything to do with brotherly feelings.”

“They were just being nice,” you say stupidly, with not a clue in the world as to why you’re defending them right now. If anything, you’re just confused.

Mattheo quirks a brow, tongue pressing against his cheek as he considers your words. “That Ravenclaw from earlier was talking about you on the train. He said he was going to ask you out at dinner because you’d ‘gotten hot’ over summer,” Mattheo sneers, like he’s suddenly regretting not hexing Michael Corner in the Great Hall. “They weren’t being nice.”

All of a sudden, you feel irritated because you have no idea why Mattheo is telling you any of this. “What’s wrong with a boy finding me attractive? Is that such a crazy idea?” you demand, part of you not wanting him to answer.

“Merlin, do I seriously have to say it?” he groans, sighing when you glare at him. Mattheo takes a breath, meeting your eyes and you marvel at the sincerity you see when he speaks. “You didn’t ‘get hot’ over the summer. You’ve always been beautiful and they’re idiots for not paying attention then.”

Your breath catches in your throat, whether it’s from emotion or from the close proximity with Mattheo, you aren’t sure. “You think I’m beautiful?”

Mattheo nods, leaning back in to brush his nose against your own, his breath mingling with yours. “Always have.”

You take this as a cue to grab the collar of his shirt and pull him in and the next thing you know, his mouth is firm against yours, and his hands are finally touching you, grabbing you by the waist and sliding up your back to hold you closer. You’ve thought about kissing Mattheo before, but the thoughts feel utterly stupid compared to the real thing. Mattheo kisses you fiercely, mouth sliding hot and wet against your own making you come alive and weakening you at the same time. He nips at your bottom lip and you gasp, causing him to smile into the kiss. Your hands are sliding up his chest to snake around his neck when a thought suddenly occurs to you and you pull away abruptly.

“Oh my God, Theodore,” you hiss, covering your mouth with your hand. Mattheo furrows his brows, looking a little dazed and confused. “What are we going to tell him?”

 “He knows I’ve loved you since we were kids,” Mattheo says flippantly, waving you off and impatiently starting to lean in again, but you stop him with a hand on his chest. “What?”

“You’ve loved me since we were kids?” The words hardly register, but before you can feel any sort of elation, you mostly feel pissed off that your brother has clearly had his fun with the situation for years. “And Theo knows?”

“Yes,” Mattheo says slowly, as if he were talking to a child. He brushes the hair out of your face and his gaze turns a little uncertain when he speaks. “Er, this is hopefully the part where you say you feel the same way.”

“Well, of course I feel the same way,” you huff, still thoroughly annoyed at Theo. “He knew I was crazily in love with you too and the bastard was so irritating about it!”

You’re about three quarters of the way down a list of ways you want to get back at your brother when Mattheo gently turns your face by the chin to look at him. “As much as I’d love for you to plot against your brother right now, it’s kind of a mood killer thinking about him when I’m kissing you.”

“Sorry, sorry. Continue with the kissing.”

“How romantic,” he says drily. His smirk turns smug, however, when he processes your previous statement. “So… you were in love with me too. What was the word you used, again? Crazily? Crazily in love…”

“Don’t make me take it back, ‘cause I swear I will.”

© earthgirl616 2023.

this is so cute !! someone get me a joshua hong this instant 🥹

heads up! fem!reader + marriage depicted.

for what is probably the thousandth time over the past few days, your phone buzzes with yet another new notification.

joshua looks up from where he's sprawled out on the hotel room's king bed, waiting for you to finish getting ready for your dinner reservations, and reaches for your phone without much thought. he picks it up, and already sees the new message before he cracks a smile. ah. another one of these messages. he gets up, making his way to where you're standing in the bathroom, finishing your makeup, still grinning as he clears his throat.

"this time... from someone named sarah," he looks down at your phone, reading off the message, "wait, i didn't even know you were dating someone, w-t-f-question-mark."

your shoulders shake a little as you resist laughing, more concentrated on doing your eyeliner. "oh my god. i knew this was a dumb idea."

"it's been funny, though." his eyes twinkle and he leans against the doorway. "you literally hard-launched me as your husband to these people."

you pull the liquid eyeliner away, turning to him with a smile he already wants to kiss. "yeah, and?" you rest a hand on the counter, leaning against the hard edge. "i like keeping our photos for myself." you pause, head lulling to one side, "aaand i really don't like the people from my hometown enough to keep them updated."

your husband chuckles warmly, though, because he was always the opposite. pretty much everyone in his life knew about you: every anniversary you celebrated while dating was punctuated with a picture of the two of you by the end of the night, every social event he posted about often had a picture of you by his side... joshua simply liked being taken by you. he didn't overly flaunt it or anything, but there was literally no way for his friends and family to not know about you.

meanwhile, you literally logged into your old account just to post a few wedding pictures your friends had taken and sent to you (you didn't want to post the official ones that'd already been touched up and sent to you both--those were for your private account) and a 'love you, mr. hong <3' as the caption. no tagging joshua, no other announcements, just pictures of you marrying the love of your life.

(needless to say, it's caused a slight rift in people who somehow thought they were entitled to your private life despite not speaking to you for years. )

"you really didn't have to post these," he says after a moment. "i don't mind being your dirty little secret--" he's cut off when you swiftly smack his arm, and he laughs warmly over it: you're so easy to tease. "i mean it! you didn't have to tell anyone about me if you didn't want to."

"i know," you go back to finishing your makeup. "i just... i wanted to."

"hey." joshua's voice is softer now, and it makes you turn to face him. wordlessly, he leans in, kissing you as one hand cups your face. you can feel his wedding band press against your skin. "i love you. a lot."

you giggle and plant a quick peck against his lips. "i love you, too, you dork. now let me finish so we can leave soon."

with another warm chuckle, he presses a lingering kiss against your cheek. "as you wish, mrs.hong."

the marauders are just so taylor swift-coded I might just explode

what’s this feeling in my stomach 🫢

hii my love i hope ur okay <3

uhhh Sunflower - drunken rambling about their adoration ; with tasm! peter if u want to bcos he’s my babygirl djfjjs <3

— ivy <3

@inkluvs i adore u and peter <3

sunflower: drunken rambling about their adoration, tasm!peter parker x reader, 0.9k

You didn’t even know Peter could get drunk, honestly. Something about a higher metabolism from the spider bite allowing him to burn off alcohol fast enough so that he never actually got drunk no matter how much he drank. 

That assumption was quickly struck down when you heard knocking at your window at almost one in the morning, right when you were about to go to bed. 

It wasn’t uncommon for your vigilante boyfriend to swing by your place after a night of patrolling, always telling you that he wanted you to be the lasting memory at the front of his mind before he fell asleep. In a world full of bad, you were the good, and that’s what he needed to remember. 

Sometimes he was so tired he even stayed the night, passing out curled around you with his face pressed against your neck. Those were the times when he disappeared early before you woke up in the morning, only leaving you a messily scribbled note telling you he’d see you later. You kept those notes in a box on your desk and looked at them whenever you missed Peter a little too much. 

This time, however, you were surprised to see that he wasn’t in his suit like he usually was, just sweatpants and a hoodie under that battered army green jacket he always wore, still crouched on your fire escape rapping his knuckles against the glass with the dopiest grin on his face. 

“Peter? What—what are you doing here? Where’s your suit, someone could’ve seen you!” You were hurling questions at him at a mile a minute, but he just blinked slowly, swaying on his feet a little bit. 

“You’re so pretty.”

“Thank you?” 

“I mean it.” 

“Are you drunk?” 

“What? No, I’m…maybe. Just a little. Like, this much.” He held his thumb and forefinger barely an inch apart, snickering. 

“Yeah, sure,” You snorted, helping him through the window so he didn’t topple over into the room. As soon as his feet were planted on the ground, he kissed you, slipping his hand around the back of your neck. Peter tasted a little bit like beer, but you didn’t really mind, not when he was kissing you this deeply. “What was that for?” You panted as soon as you pulled away, bracing your hands against his chest after his kiss had stolen the breath out of yours. 

“Because you’re pretty. Because I love you.” 

“How much have you had to drink?” 

“Not a lot.” 

“Here, drink some water.” You went to grab the water bottle from your bedside table, but a web stretched past you before you could reach it, hitting the metal with a thwip and whipping it back into Peter’s hand. 

He took a large swig from it, snickering when you gave him a pointed look. “I’m not drunk, see. I totally nailed that.” 

“You’re so cool, Pete.” You hummed idly, tugging him out of his jacket and tossing it off to the side, guiding him towards your bed. He stumbled over his own socked feet a few times, but you were there to steady him. 

“Have I told you how much—how much I love you?” He hiccupped, flopping onto the mattress with no real strength behind the movement. You made a noise of acknowledgement, busying yourself with getting Peter’s sneakers off instead. “I love you so much it hurts, right here,” He jabbed a finger against his chest, right above his heart, letting out a small ‘ow’ with the force of it. You stifled a laugh, plucking the glasses off his face and setting them down next to your alarm clock. “You’re so smart, and—and sweet, and kind and…pretty. Did I say pretty yet?” 

“Yeah, I think you might’ve mentioned it.” Your mouth quirked into a warm smile at his drunken rambling. Even drunk, Peter knew how to make you feel loved beyond words. You switched off the lamp beside you, shrouding the room in darkness. The only light was the moon outside, and it washed over the softened angles of Peter’s face almost angelically. 

“Oh. Really? I don’t remember that.” He frowned, scratching his cheek aimlessly. Then he shrugged, picking up the edge of your blanket and shoving his lanky self under it, shimmying around until he was satisfied with his comfort. “Anyways, we’re atoms.” 

You had to stifle a laugh at his blunt statement. “What?” 

“Y’know, like, atoms? How they’re…what’s the fucking word, what’s the—oh! Attract! How they’re just, like, super attracted to each other.” He held one hand up above him, then the other a few inches away. “If this hand is you, and this hand is me, we’re like atoms. Attracted to each other.” He smacked his hands together, linking his fingers through each other. “You’d be a pretty atom.” 

“Pete, atoms repel each other once they get close enough.” 

Peter’s mouth dropped onto shocked ‘oh’, eyes widening. “No, no, I didn’t mean it like that! I just meant that you and—you and me, we’re meant to be together.” He turned his head to look at you, nearly going cross eyed at your close proximity. “Oh, hello! C’mere.” He pulled you into his arms without a second thought, tucking his chin over the top of your head and sighing contently. 

“I love you, you nerd,” You said softly, pressing a kiss against the hand closest to your face. When Peter didn’t respond after a few seconds, you furrowed your eyebrows, craning your neck to look up at him only to see that he’d already fallen fast asleep. You weren’t surprised, he’d been under a lot of stress lately and probably hadn’t been sleeping much because of it. 

All you could do was hope he’d sleep well here with you. 

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