Peter Parker X Fem!reader

just-a-happening

5 years ago

Hide & Seek | P.P

Summary: In which a babysitting job goes awry for Peter and he needs your help tracking down a very special Avenger’s daughter.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 2,705

Author’s Note: okay so this one is super long but I really, really love how it turned out. I’ve had this idea brewing in my head for a while and I didn’t think I’d ever get around to writing it because I didn’t think I’d be as into writing Peter stories but this might make me reconsider. I like to think this takes place in the months between Endgame and FFH. enjoy! xx

There was a boy on your fire escape.

You recognized him almost immediately. He worked at the station behind you in Intro to Mechatronics with Ned Leeds, he sat two rows ahead of you in Chemistry and he was on the National Decathlon team with your friend MJ.

He also happened to live two floors above you.

Peter had his back to you, his body bent over the railing as if looking for something he’d dropped. You could hear him—“Shit! Shit! Shit!”— through the slightly ajar window, which you’d left cracked the night before.

You raised a fist to knock on the glass (softly, so you wouldn’t scare him) but before you got the chance, he perked up and whipped around to face you so fast you were the one who ended up startled.

His eyes met yours and his face flooded with disappointment.

You tried not to take it personally.

“Oh! H-Hey,” he said, struggling to keep his tone casual. His hands hovered at his side awkwardly while he decided where to put them. In the end he just crossed them over his chest, still fidgeting. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to, um, scare you. I just thought you might be someone else.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You were expecting someone else?” You made a point to gesture to your things. “Inside my bedroom?”

He winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “In my defence, I didn’t, uh, necessarily know this was your room, um, specifically.”

Over the last few months you and Peter had formed an odd kind of friendship.

Entire apartment complexes were built around the city in the last year to accommodate the blipped. Families started reappearing in their old homes only to find that they were now someone else’s new one. In the chaos you and your family just so happened to have ended up in the same building as Peter Parker and his aunt.

Peter was always around, of course, which made it easy to fall into each other in a very casual, easy way. Many nights when you were too nervous to sleep you’d climb out onto the fire escape only to find Pete doing the same. You never talked about why you were both up, a kind of mutual understanding, so instead, you talked about everything else.

But sometimes you would run into him in class or you would both awkwardly reach for the front door and he would right through you—like you weren’t really there.

Everyone was recovering from the blip, but something told you Peter Parker lost more than just five years.

He was bouncing nervously on the balls of his feet, his eyes scanning the levels below you. Curious, you pushed what was left of the pane up and copied him, your gaze landing on nothing other than Mrs. Sardowski’s rapidly wilting house plants. You frowned, sitting on the window’s ledge.

“So,” you said, pulling his attention back to you. “What are you looking for?”

He let out a humourless chuckle. “It’s less of a what and more like a … who?”

You squinted up at him, the mid-morning sun peaking between the fire escape’s bars. “I hope you weren’t babysitting Parker because, y’know, parents don’t usually appreciate that kind of thing.”

You meant it as a joke but then Peter grimaced and you made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a horrified gasp.

“Oh.”

He groaned, throwing his hands up to cover his face. “I know, okay! We were playing hide and seek and I told her—I told her, I swear—that outside was off limits but she doesn’t listen! She never listens!”

You let out a low whistle.

“I’ve never babysat before!” he justified frantically, his eyes wide and scared. He started pacing the fire escape, the metal rattling with every step. “Pepper had this–this thing and Happy’s in Coney Island with May and I thought ‘how hard could it be!’ and it was actually really, really hard and now she’s gone and—”

You frowned, your brain making the connections painfully slow. “Pepper? As in Potts?”

If he’d heard you he gave no sign of it. He’d finally come to a stop at the far end by your brother’s window, his hands curing around the railing so tight his knuckles were turning white. You climbed all the way out, careful not to trip on the rusting metal bars.

He was rambling. “I’ve looked everywhere and I can’t find her anywhere, she’s gone! What if she’s not even here? What if she’s just wandering the streets or worse what if–”

“Pepper Potts,” you repeated slowly. “The Pepper Potts? The one married to–?”

Peter didn’t stop. “God, if I lose Morgan I don’t–I don’t know what I’m going to do. How am I supposed to tell them? Who am I kidding, I can’t tell them! They would never forgive me. Hell, if anything happens to her I’ll never forgive m–”

Morgan. You’d heard that name before. After everyone came back and we found out who’d finally defeated Thanos you remember watching a telecast in one of the shelters that said he was survived by his wife and his daughter—Morgan.

You held up a hand and he shut up, your panicked gaze meeting his. “Wait … are you–are you actually saying you lost Iron Man’s daughter?”

He didn’t say anything, but by the way his shoulders fell in defeat he didn’t have to.

“Oh my God, Peter–”

He winced, his eyes pleading. “Help me. Please, help me.”

Your mouth fell open, trying to find the right words and failing spectacularly. Instead you just sputtered pathetically before finally settling on: “I can’t!”

He let out an exasperated sigh that sounded more like a whine. “Why not?!”

A good question. Part of you knew you wanted to help him, but another part, a much smaller part, begged you to stay out of it—you didn’t want to be one half of the duo that lost Morgan Stark.

But you knew that wasn’t actually it. Things with Peter had taken a turn for the weird, your heart practically beating out of it’s chest anytime you so much as caught sight of him. And your late night talks were getting longer with every passing evening, most of the time well into morning.

You were afraid of how an entire afternoon spent with Peter would make you feel.

You swallowed hard, motioning to vaguely back at your room. “I have homework! So much homework that I really need to finish because I really can’t fail the exam.”

He ignored you, peering into your room as if to corroborate your excuse—which wasn’t an excuse—but you knew it was pointless. You’d left your notes on your desk across the room, most of them half-hidden under textbooks.

“You’re taking Molecular Cell Biology?” he asked and your eyebrows shot up into your hairline. You glanced back to make sure your notes were where you left them and sure enough there they were, barely even legible.

For the second time today you were left speechless. “Yeah, I am but how did–”

He didn’t let you finish. “And you’re failing Molecular Cell Biology.”

“Hey!” you shoved him lightly, momentarily forgetting what you were asking.

He looked back at you, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry–I’m sorry. But you are,” you glared and he held his hands up defensively. “You are! But you don’t have to be. I can help you–tutor you! I can tutor you.”

You considered it. You knew that Mrs. Palomino had maxed out her extra credit assignment threshold for you and you were down to your last chance to pass her class with a respectable grade.

You sighed. “Okay fine Parker,” you conceded and he all but cheered. “I’ll help you. But I swear to God if I don’t get an A …”

He was already climbing the fire escape, taking the stairs two by two. “I’ll get you better than an A! I’ll get you an A plus! An A plus, plus!”

You followed him, scowling at the back of his head. “That doesn’t exist!”

You ended up in his bedroom, cross-legged on his navy plaid comforter listening as he numbered off the things Morgan liked form the floor while also evaluating his choice on wall decor. He had maps and posters and random scribbled notes in red, messy handwriting.

You let your mind wander to a future where being in his room was normal and being in his bed was normal and asking him to join you on it was normal and you didn’t have to guess what was happening behind those kind eyes because he would want to tell you.

He was in the middle of contemplating whether we should chance the subway or get the cops involved when his voice broke suddenly broke through your distracted thoughts. “Are you listening?”

You blinked a few times, trying to bite down the blush creeping into your cheeks. “Morgan likes spare parts, hamburgers and sour gummy worms,” you repeated dutifully, hoping to God he wouldn’t ask you why you were suddenly flustered.

He didn’t.

“Right. She also really likes cats, don’t forget cats. Which is funny because Tony wasn’t really a pet guy,” he mumbled, his gaze suddenly a million miles away. “He did like to take in strays, though.”

You knew that once upon a time Peter was Tony Stark’s intern, but the affection in his voice was so visceral you felt it in your own chest.

“You know what I still can’t figure out?” you asked abruptly.

He glanced at you. “What’s up?”

“How did you end up babysitting Tony Stark’s daughter?” you asked and you watched as his lips turned up in a ghost of a smile. “You were snapped too, so you barely knew Morgan, right?”

“Right,” he said, in a voice right above a whisper. Then he chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, I guess it’s complicated.”

“Complicated how?”

He looked like he was struggling with what to say next. “Well, when Tony uh, you know, I wanted to help with whatever I could even though I wasn’t, uh, his intern anymore. So,I told Pepper to call me whenever and it turns out she needed a lot of help with Morg.”

You wanted to ask him more about it, but it felt too personal. So instead, you focused on Morgan and where a six year old girl could possibly want to go. And suddenly, it came to you. You knew where Morgan was and you didn’t have to take a subway or call the NYPD to find her.

You leaped off the bed, eyes wide. “Get up,” you said, but he just stared up at you quizzically from his spot on the floor. You nudged him with your foot excitedly, “ Get up!”

And he did. Reluctantly.

“Think about it,” you explained impatiently. “What has burgers, sour gummy worms and a cute kitty cat?”

You could practically see the gears turning in his head as he thought about it and hear the ‘click’ in his brain when he finally got it.

He jumped up. “Delmar!”

The next few minutes were a blur. You both scrambled to Peter’s front door and ducked into the elevator before the doors could close and took it four floors down to the lobby, where you were off again out the door and onto the street.

A fire destroyed Delmar’s Deli years ago and after the blip things got even more messy. But he stayed in Queens and ended up relocating to a new deli just a few blocks from your apartment, a deli you’d come to know and love.

You were sprinting a few paces behind Peter but when you finally made it to the familiar store front, you both reached for the handle at the same time, which you immediately realized was silly because you didn’t even know Morgan so you stood back and let him walk in first.

Delmar’s was as comforting as it was cluttered. You skirted past discarded magazine racks and an impressive candy selection on your way to the back, which is where Delmar made his world-famous (according to him) sandwiches and burgers. He was there now, laughing at something someone you couldn’t see said.

“Hey Mister Delmar,” Peter greeted cheerfully, not even out of breath.

You, on the other hand, were practically gasping for breath, supporting yourself with the topping display, your side pressed to the cool glass. You searched the place for the bodega’s unofficial cat, Murph, who always came up and curled himself around your ankles when you came in but he was nowhere in sight.

“Peter!” Delmar replied happily. He glanced over at you and his smile widened, “Chiquita!”

You giggled at the nickname and waved.

“Mister Delamar, have you seen a little girl?” Peter asked and you could tell he was trying not to sound as desperate as he felt. “Her name’s Morgan and I’m really hoping she’s here.”

Delmar glanced down at his feet. “Morgancita, I think he found you.”

As he said it you watched in total amazement as Morgan Stark crawled out from behind the sandwich station, Murph sitting happily in her arms. Until this moment you’d only seen Morgan on the TV, and the screen didn’t do her justice. She was a carbon copy of her dad, all dark eyes full of mischief. She cooed at Murph one last time before putting him down gently.

She put her hands behind her back and frowned up at Peter, who looked so relieved you worried he might pass out.

“You win Pete,” she said sadly.

Peter crouched down in front of her, looking torn between wanting to hug her and throttle her. In the end he settled on ruffling her hair.

“Morgan, never ever do that again, okay?”

She furrowed her brows adorably. “But Pete, I’m going to have to find better hiding places if I’m going to win.”

Peter’s eyes softened. “Just promise you’ll play by the rules next time.”

Morgan didn’t look happy, “But that’s boring.”

“Promise?” Peter said, holding out his pinky.

Morgan watched the pinky with one of the most calculating looks you’d ever seen. But after a few seconds, she shrugged and wrapped her tiny pinky around Peter’s. “Promise.”

Then they both turned to face you and you were suddenly incredibly nervous but you didn’t have enough time to contemplate what to say because before you knew it Morgan’s dark gaze landed on you.

She tilted her head, “Who are you?”

Peter placed a hand on her back and smiled softly at you, and you felt heat flare up in the pit if your stomach. “She’s a friend of mine. We go to school together and she helped me find you.”

“Isn’t that cheating?” Morgan asked, narrowing her eyes at you.

Peter rolled his eyes. “Not when you break the rules, Cymorg.”

She fixed her attention back to you. “Hi,” she said, holding out her hand like a miniature professional. “I’m Morgan.”

You smiled down at her, taking her fingers in yours. “It is very nice to meet you, Morgan.”

You bent down so you were level with her and beckoned her closed, as if to tell her a secret. She leaned in, Peter watching you both curiously.

“For the record, if it wasn’t for me, you would have won,” you whispered. “He had no idea.”

She smiled up at Peter and said, “I like her.”

He was looking at you in a way that made you dizzy. “Me, too.”

“And she’s really pretty.”

You don’t know who flushed brighter: you or Peter.

Tags :

peter parker x reader peter parker peter parker imagine peter parker one shot peter parker fanfiction tom holland x reader peter parker x y/n tom holland tom holland imagine peter parker x fem!reader morgan stark iron man tony stark avengers avengers fanfiction

390 notes View Post

fanfic-center

2 years ago

okay tasm!peter parker thought!!! he’s obsessed with touching your face. like, when you’re talking about something he’ll just randomly grab your face and smoosh your cheeks. he’ll boop or kiss your nose at random times. most importantly, when he’s kissing you he’ll be holding your face, his big hands on your cheeks guiding your head so he can kiss you better. omg

doughnuts

summary you're really excited about doughnuts. peter really wants to kiss you.

content tasm!peterparker x fem!afab!reader

note this is my first time writing for tasm!peter please forgive me if it sucks.

For the first time in a while, you come home after work with enough excitement to light up the entire flat.

Peter's sitting up in his bed reading when you find him. All things soft with rumpled hair, his clothes even worse, reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. You're not sure if he really needs them anymore, but he likes to wear them to keep an ounce of normalcy.

"Hi," you chirp when he notices you. He dog-ears his book and puts it down almost immediately. You beam.

"Hi, baby," he seems just as happy to see you as you do him. Though, there's a buzz to you that Pete lacks. You think if you got home twenty minutes later he would've been napping.

You move across his room while pushing your work skirt down your legs. Peter's heart skips when it looks like you might trip and he tries to keep his eyes off your soft thighs. You rifle through his draws to find one of his shirts to wear, unbuttoning your own blouse in the process.

"How was your day?" you ask, holding up a shirt to your nose. You choose it because it smells more like your boyfriend than the others.

Peter crumples his face, trying not to laugh. "It was good. Didn't do much - you?"

You say something while pulling the shirt over your face that Pete can't discern. You all but jump into his lap when you reach him. Hooking your thighs over his lap until you're face to face.

He allows you to get comfy, pushing your knees into his side while he sits up, hands finding their place on your hips. "Hello," he says again, much quieter now that you're in his space. You look adorable in his shirt and your work tights.

"Did you hear me?" you ask, basically pulsing with giddy energy. You push your fingers under the hem of his shirt and he short-circuits for a moment.

He blinks. "You had your face in your shirt."

"Right," you giggle, a girlish sound that Peter wants seared in his brain, "I said, you know the food truck around the block?"

"You'll have to be more specific," he says, squeezing at your hips.

"The one that shut down."

"Oh, right. The Jam Van," he laughs knowingly. You'd moped for almost a month when they closed. You were inconsolable.

"Yeah," you grin, poking his chest, "yeah, they reopened!"

You're smiling so hard Peter worries that you'll get stuck like that. With your eyebrows raised and your cheeks appled. He thinks he needs to hold your face like right now.

He lets his hands leave your hips and raises them to hold your cheeks. Your skin is warm under his touch like he expected. "That's great, baby."

You ignore his hands. "Right? It's amazing."

Peter pushes your cheeks together until your lips pout outwards. He thinks you look extremely cute. Even worse when you try to frown and it just looks like a smooshed mess. He wants to laugh but you look peeved.

"Pete," you try to say. It comes out all mumbled.

"Yeah?" he says, distracted by your puffy face.

You pull your face from his hands and struggle a bit. Holding his arms to his chest you say, "Are you even listening to me?"

"The Jam Van," he says nodding. Smarmy.

"Right," you say, still mildly upset, "they're open right now if you wanna..."

"You wanna go get doughnuts?" he asks with his arms still pinned to his body. His hands wriggle to touch you.

"Can we?" you ask, eyes wide with hope. Peter wishes he had his camera with him.

"Can I kiss you first?" he grins boyishly. You wish you had a better resolve. He's awfully pretty and you really want doughnuts.

You let his arms go, huffing like kissing him is a difficult task. "If you really want." You have to hold back a laugh.

He reaches his hands back up to your cheeks and gives them another squeeze, "Of course, I want to."

You let him guide your face down to meet his lips, huffing into his mouth once they meet. You go lax in his lap when he presses firmer, spreading his fingers over your warming cheeks. He tilts your face upwards so he has better access to slip his tongue in your mouth. You whine when he has you exactly where he wants. Putty in his hold, holding you close by your soft cheeks.

You pull away from his lips, blinking away the dizziness. "Pete," you say panting.

Peter licks his lips, "Yeah?"

You push your face into his neck to hide the way he so obviously makes you feel, holding onto his sleep shirt for dear life. You try to even out your breathing and fail.

"You okay, love?" he asks. There's a hint of smartassery you don't miss. He's awful.

"Yeah," you say a tad breathlessly. "Yeah."

He kisses your shoulder and you shudder. His ego swells tenfold. "You sure?"

You take a moment to compose yourself, hating yourself for being so pliable. You sit back to look him in the eye. "So," you say with a confidence you lack, "Jam Van?"

Peter laughs and catches your face again. You like it much more than the first time. "That felt like coercion ."

"You asked to kiss me!" you say bewildered, pushing at his chest with not enough force than you feel is deserved.

"You tricked me," he laughs with you, letting you paw at his chest. It's quite adorable, really.

"Whatever," you say with more heat than you mean, a smile tugging at your red lips. You untangle yourself from his lap and stand to walk away. "I'll get my own jam doughnuts."

Peter smacks your ass before you can get away and you gasp. "Peter Parker!"

"You can't go out like that."

"I'll do what I like!" you call from the other end of the hallway.

Peter chases you around the flat until he gets you in his arms. The doughnuts wait for a few more hours.

Tags :

peter parker x reader peter parker x fem!reader peter parker x you peter parker blurb peter parker x y/n

5K notes View Post

fanfic-center

2 years ago

peter parker who always lets you hang off his arm. you’re always holding it to your chest when walking or just standing. letting him do the guiding because you just want to stick to his side. you wrap both your arms around his and just fiddle with his fingers and maybe tug on them when you need his attention. you rest your chin on his shoulder when he’s stopped to talk to someone or when you’ve both sat down. you just have to be near him tbh <3333 and he doesn’t care one bit, he actually hates it when you’re not as close.

aerial why would you do this to me!!! I want to be his clingy gf so bad. also this is really short sorry </3

Peter sometimes finds it hard to breathe when you cling to him like this. You’re so close and your warmth is seeping into him and your perfume smells like honey and flowers and hell, he’s so in love with you he could die.

One of your hands is slotted in his, your fingers having searched for his and found them the moment you’d stepped outside. Your other hand is curled around his elbow, clutching his arm to your chest. Peter thinks it’s cute, how close you want to be to him. How you don’t seem to want to let him go.

“Y/N, honey,” he says with a poorly contained grin. “You okay?”

You look up at him, pretty as ever. Peter’s chest burns at the sight of you.

“Fine,” you say, and you look it. Your smile is bruising.

The breeze has blown a strand of hair across your face. Peter lifts his free arm and pushes the stray lock behind your ear, his hand lingering on your jaw.

“Did you decide what you feel like eating?” He asks slowly. It’s hard to get the words out when his fondness and adoration for you is making his chest tight.

You don’t notice, and besides, you look like you’re feeling an equal amount of fondness for him. “I was thinking Thai,” you say thoughtfully. “But only if you want that too?”

Peter grins. He doesn’t care what he eats, as long as it’s with you. He presses his thumb to the corner of your mouth, then leans down to press a chaste kiss to your wind-bitten lips. “Thai it is.”

Peter and you walk the short distance to the Thai restaurant. You cling to Peter the entire way. He can’t stop smiling. He wants you this close forever, even if it means you’re so close he has to be extra careful not to step on your feet.

The Thai place is busy tonight. Neither of you mind. You stand in line, so close your shoes press up against each other. You fiddle with Peter’s fingers, trace the lines on his palm, the veins on the inside of his wrist. Peter is putty in your hands. His chest feels like it’s on fire, worse when you press into his side and let your head fall against his shoulder, your weight familiar and soft and warm all at once.

By the time the food comes out, hot and fresh and smelling delicious, Peter’s chest is already so full with fondness for you he’s not sure he can fit anything else in there. He tries his best.

Tags :

peter parker x reader peter parker x fem!reader peter parker x you

6K notes View Post

fanfic-center

2 years ago

Hello, are you taking request?if you're not you can just ignore this, but can I request Tasm Peter Parker x gn reader, maybe a oneshot where Reader has a thing where they run their hands over Peter's skin, not necessarily in a sexual way, but more as in like reassurance, just to be reminded he's there.

Reader does this little pinches on his thighs and arms as well?

AN | It’s just a whole lot of softness, but I hope you enjoy 🥰❤️

Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x gn!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 1.5k

Masterlist | Main | Peter

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Peter Parker was a comforting person.

Everything about him, from his sweet smile to his warm laugh, genuine kindness and soft touches was comforting. He had a golden aura around him and that was something you’d noticed from the first day you’d met when he came into the coffeeshop you were working at.

One thing had led to another and then another, and before you knew it you were an inseparable couple. And you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was a cool evening when you let yourself into Peter’s apartment. He wasn’t home yet, but had promised it wouldn’t be too late before he was home. You’d decided that you were going to make some dinner before he got back so he’d actually have a meal today. You loved everything about him, but sometimes he was so scatterbrained that it made you laugh. Even if it wasn’t much, you’d do anything for him.

“Oh Peter,” you smiled to yourself when you saw his half consumed cup of coffee on the counter, along with a cold piece of toast. It didn’t take long to clean everything up and put away the groceries you had brought over.

You made quick work of whipping up some soup and a salad, finishing it all up by the time Peter got home. You’d say he walked in through the door, but that would be a lie. Instead, he opened the living room window and hopped inside, landing a little less than gracefully. He pulled off the mask, his entire face lighting up with happiness when he saw you.

“Hey sweetheart,” he made it over to you in a few strides, pulling you into a warm hug, “you smell good and so does whatever you’re making.”

“And you smell like sweat,” you teased with a kiss to his cheek, “go on and take a shower and then you can have all minestrone your stomach can handle.”

“You’re the best,” he lifted the lid off the pot and took a good whiff of it and groaned lightly. You nudged him out of the way with your hip, tutting at him softly. He took the hint, grinning as he stole a few more kisses before heading towards the shower, “I love you, I love you, I love you!”

“You’re a fool, Peter Parker,” but you were grinning to yourself like mad, warmth flooding your face at the affection he so easily displayed.

“A fool for you!” was the last thing that you heard before he slipped into the bathroom and turned the shower on. You sighed softly, biting your lip as you shook your head.

You decided to set the table, setting a vase with fresh flowers in the center of it. Peter hadn’t noticed them yet, but they were a beautiful assortment of daisies and lilies and tulips - your favorites. He always liked to surprise you with such small gestures, you figured it was time to return the favor.

Your instinct had been right - his happy reaction was enough to make you feel like you were standing in the brightest, golden beam of sunshine.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were cuddled up with Peter on the couch, watching some new show you’d both been interested in on Netflix. You were leaning into Peter’s side, an arm slung around your shoulders and yours draped across his torso. Your head was resting on his chest, and you found yourself being slowly lulled to sleep by the steady beating of his heart.

What you hadn’t realized was that you were doing what you always did, even when you were conscious of it. You were tracing over his soft, exposed skin, drawing aimless and endless shapes onto him. It had become a habit, almost a bit of a self-soothing technique.

It wasn’t even anything sexual; you just liked the feeling of being close to him, the intimacy that flowed between the two of you. In a way, it also served as a reminder that he was there, and you weren’t alone. It gave Peter a surge of affection too, knowing you were so comfortable around him. Sometimes it even turned into playful pinches or pokes, but they were all laced with nothing but affectionate fondness.

Peter wondered if you even knew what you were doing or if it just sort of happened without you thinking about it. Not that he minded of course, he was elated by your touch.

“You’re doing it again,” he whispered softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You mumbled something incoherent before shifting off him so you could look into those big, brown eyes you loved so much.

“What am I doin’?” you mumbled, fighting off a yawn as you smiled sheepishly at him.

“Touching me,” he smiled softly and you quickly realized your little gaff, “you do it a lot. Just kinda touch me.”

“Oh,” you pulled back so you were no longer so you were sitting across from him, a nervous expression on your face, “sorry Peter. I didn’t realize what I was doing. It just kinda happens.”

“Honey,” you tried hiding your face beyond your hands, but he gently moved them away and smiled softly at you, “it’s nothing bad at all. I like it! Really, I do. It’s just something I’ve noticed.”

“Well,” you swallowed thickly, “apparently I like it too. I…oops?”

“Don’t apologize and don’t get all shy on me,” he gently took your face in his hands and pressed soft, gentle kisses to your forehead, cheeks, nose and finally your lips, “I love it - I love you.”

“I love you too, Pete,” you couldn’t melt but relax and almost melt into him, “so much.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Despite his reassurances that your little habit didn’t bother him, you found yourself more aware of your actions all the time. And more than that, you found that you ended up stopping yourself. Peter hadn’t noticed that anything was different or off at first, but eventually even he caught on. And, even if he didn’t want to admit it, he missed the feeling of you on him. Just as much as you enjoyed touching him, he enjoyed all your touches too. Craved them even.

And one evening, he couldn’t take it anymore. He had to know what was wrong.

“Sweetheart?” you were both getting ready for bed at his place, with you padding around his bedroom and pulling on your pajamas. Peter was already climbing into bed, a somewhat nervous expression on his face.

“Yes, my love?” you turned and gave him a small smile. Your expression dropped however when you saw the serious expression on his face, “Peter? What’s wrong?”

“I…this is going to sound silly - I know it will,” he let out a nervous breath as you padded your way over to him. You sat down on your side of the bed and silently encouraged him to go on, “I…um, why don’t you touch me anymore?”

“What do you mean?” you looked at him with wide eyes, but you knew that you’d been caught. A nervous huff of laughter escaped your lips as you lightly shrugged.

“Ever since I pointed out that you like to touch me or whatever, you haven’t done it anymore,” he felt like a kid crying over spilt milk more than a grown man but he couldn’t help it. He just wanted your touch, “I guess I just wanna know if I did something wrong. ‘cause I kinda miss it.”

“Peter,” you let out a nervous breath as you climbed into bed next to him, “I-I…I’m sorry. I just, I really thought it was too much - like I was overwhelming or something. I didn’t want to be too much.”

“You are never too much,” he replied sweetly, making easy work of pulling you into his lap, his warm hands finding purchase on your waist, “I love everything about you. Every last look and touch and feel -all of it. You could never be too much for me. And I guess I realized that as much as you liked doing, I liked receiving it.”

“Yeah?” you asked softly and he nodded happily, “and you’re sure it doesn’t bug you?”

“One hundred percent positive,” he took your hand in his and laced your fingers together, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, “I love you, yeah?”

“I know,” you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips, “I love you too, Peter Parker. So much.”

“Does that mean you’ll touch me again?” his voice was barely above a whisper but you nodded in response with a gentle smile.

“I’ll touch you whenever you want,” you were both giggling now, “and however you want, my love.”

“Good,” he sighed wistfully before pulling you back to his lips, “good.”

Tags :

peter parker x reader peter parker x fem!reader peter parker x you tasm!peter x you

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annimalq

5 years ago

Playing With Fire (Part One)

Word count: 1.3K

Summary: Y/N was born with a terrible curse back in the late 1920′s. Taken in and cared for by Howard Stark, Y/N finds her family with two super soldiers. Until she gets frozen by Hydra and unthawed for bad. The avengers need all of the help they can get with her. They need a spider.

PETER PARKER X READER

Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

The wooden bedframe and flower print curtains slowly caught on fire as the orange flames encased everything in their path. It only took a couple of seconds for the entire house to go up in flames. It only took a couple of hours for the entire house to turn to ash. Her parents were still inside, slowly burning to death. Their screams echoed around the neighbourhood.

Firefighters weren’t able to find the source of the fire, but that was because she was the source of the fie. She was born with the ability to control the elements. In secret, she practiced her powers. She was good at controlling the wind, the water, ice and plants. But fire, that was what really got to her. it was just something she wasn’t able to grasp complete control of.

No, fire really fucked up her life. Friends and family, they had all lost their lives because of her.

At sixteen years old, Y/N had lost almost everything because of fire. It forced her to develop thick skin.

It hurt. It really hurt.

Keep reading

Tags :

peter parker peter parker imagine peter parker x reader peter parker x fem!reader peter parker x female reader peter parker smut peter parker x reader smut peter parker fluff peter parker x you playing with fire tom holland mcu imagine mcu marvel spiderman

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routledgescherries

3 years ago

peace | p.p.

word count: 4.3k

warnings: major nwh spoilers!!, symptoms of depression, slight angst, me wanting someone (peter) to give me a charm bracelet, taylor swift references

summary: peter reunites with you and tries to get you to remember him after all that happens

Life after Dr. Strange’s spell was rough for Peter, to say the least. Although he still fortunately had his birth certificate and driver's license, it was hard to find a job or a place to live when you had no credit and no G.E.D. So he resorted to being a freelance photographer at the Daily Bugle to pay the bills, staging pictures of him as Spider-Man, and getting the only clear pictures of Spider-Man to be found for any paper. Peter was also living in a crappy small apartment in the bad part of town with the little money he made. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

Peter also had to deal with the fact that he literally had no one in his life. It was difficult for him to adapt to being alone, he often found himself turning to tell a stupid joke to you, point out a good person in crisis for MJ to draw, or even a take out place for May to try, and find himself completely alone.

Peter was used to his constant sadness that came with the loneliness by now too. The first couple nights he cried himself to sleep, all of the grief and guilt about his aunt and the loneliness being too hard to deal with. All of the late nights alone with his thoughts made his mind go to dark places. Thinking about how he was always alone in his life. People kept leaving him; his parents, Ben, Tony, May, his friends, you. Was Peter just meant to be alone? Did he deserve to be alone?

Peter shook his head, snapping out of his train of thought. It was probably best not to go down that road again. He rubbed his eyes, closing his G.E.D. prep book. This was depressing. His life was depressing. Peter needed to do something. He needed some fresh air.

He put his jacket on, making sure to have his web shooter in his pocket just in case. This neighborhood was so sketchy. And mindlessly, Peter walked out of his building, not even realizing where his feet were leading him until he found himself right outside the coffee shop that his friends regularly hung out at. Holy Grounds. You all would spend countless hours doing homework and joking around there until MJ had to close the store.

It was where you and Peter had your first date when you were awkward seventh graders being supervised by his Aunt May and Uncle Ben in the back corner. It was where you two had your first kiss. It was where Peter first met Ned in freshman year after he accidentally spilled coffee on Ned. It was where Harry decided to throw an impromptu New Year’s party that ended in Peter reluctantly kissing Harry at midnight when Harry complained he had no one to kiss. It was where the six of you first hung out all together besides school for the first time.

It was the home of so many of Peter’s memories.

As he looked through the windows, Peter saw your group sitting at the counter. MJ was leaning on the counter, probably complaining about the customers while Gwen was listening and also likely coming up with new songs for her band “The Mary Janes” in the back of her mind. Harry was sipping something out of one of the cafe mugs, while Ned was watching and laughing when Harry spit it back out almost immediately.

And you. You, Peter noticed you were sitting on the end closest to the door next to Harry, quietly, fidgeting with your rings and a bracelet, an anxious habit you had. As he looked closer, Peter noticed that it was the charm bracelet he got you for your birthday, that had charms of your favorite things and memories you had made since you’ve been friends.

Peter couldn’t help but wonder if Peter Parker wasn’t totally forgotten in your mind.

That thought quickly dissipated as he watched you. He couldn’t describe the look on your face. You looked something between sad and confused as you twisted it between your fingers, not paying attention to your friends around you.

Peter hadn’t planned to see his friends and give them his speech until two more weeks, just enough time that he would be settled into his new life, and so he would have enough time to craft his speech to make him not sound like a lunatic. But seeing you like that made Peter rashly decide to go in and introduce himself.

He might not be able to make you remember him, but he could be your friend again.

He walked into the store, hands in his pockets, messing with the notecards that contained his speech. Peter kept them in his jacket just in case something caused his plan to change. But the text he had memorized was ignored as you looked at Peter as he walked into Holy Grounds, looking like you recognized him but couldn’t quite figure out from where. You narrowed your eyes, but shook your head and took a drink of your latte.

Doubt treaded Peter’s mind. Would this even work? A few simple sentences was supposed to be enough to counteract a spell made by one of the multiverse’s most powerful wizards?

He took a deep breath, like May taught him to do when his thoughts got overwhelming. Okay, even if he couldn’t get you to remember him, he could at least try to rebuild what you once had. You were best friends and then a couple for years, if it could happen once it could happen again. You could make new memories and have a new love.

Yeah, Peter thought. Either of those could work.

Peter took a leap of faith and stepped closer to you. “Hi, I’m Peter Parker.”

You smiled at him, nose scrunching slightly. “Hi Peter Parker,” you said. “They don’t put your names on the cups here.” You paused, stifling a laugh. “And I don’t work here.”

“Oh I know,” Peter said. “Actually, I didn’t know they didn’t put names on the cups, but I did know you didn’t work here, which now that I think about it sounds kind of creepy because you don’t know me, but that’s not the point, or even why I introduced myself.” Peter took a deep breath and started talking at a more normal speed. “Sorry, I ramble sometimes.”

You smiled softly. “You don’t have to apologize for talking. What were you gonna say?”

Peter couldn’t help but smile too. God, he missed you so much. “I was saying that, uh, I introduced myself to you because I wanted you to know my name.”

Peter heard MJ snort and whisper something to Gwen, who practically cackled. Peter could only assume it was some sort of insult. You hit MJ slightly with your hand across the counter, giving her a ‘knock it off’ look. It was almost like old times.

You turned back over to Peter, smile back on your face. “Ignore her, she's mean to everyone.”

“It’s okay. Anyways I was wondering if I could maybe talk to you?” At that, Peter noticed all of his friends looking towards the two of you. He stiffened up at all the eyes.

You bit your lip, fiddling with the bracelet again. “Um, I think my friends might kill me, or you, if I leave now.” Peter sighed, but at the sight of his fallen face, you quickly followed up with, “But I should be free at 4, if that works?”

Peter nodded, vigorously, grin back on his face. “Yeah, that’s good, yeah. Meet you here?”

You nodded. “Sounds good. See you then.” Peter nodded too as you both kept eye contact.

Harry leaned his head on your shoulder, also looking at Peter. He waved slightly at him. “Bye Peter Parker.”

Peter chuckled slightly. “Bye,” he said, feeling hopeful for the first time in a while as he walked out.

As Peter walked out of the cafe, you heard your friends snickering at him. “He was so dorky,” MJ chuckled. “‘I’m Peter Parker.’ What was that?”

“Knock it off you guys,” you said, in a firm tone. “He was sweet, and trying. Besides, there's something,” you paused, messing with the web charm on your bracelet, trying to find the right word, “familiar about him.”

“Maybe that’s why he wanted to talk to you,” Gwen suggested. “He would’ve had to know you if he came in here, just talked to you, and didn’t order coffee in a coffee shop.”

“Or he’s just a perv who wants to take advantage of you,” Harry said casually, shrugging his shoulders.

“Aw, bub,” you smiled, putting your arm around him. “Thank you for looking out for me Har, but I think if he was actually a perv, he wouldn’t have made plans to meet me at a public place, in front of my friends.”

“Perv or not,” Ned remarked, putting his hands up, “Y/N’s right. That dude looks really familiar.”

“I think so too,” Gwen said. “Maybe he goes to Midtown. Or maybe he went to your middle school and wanted to catch up?”

You shook your head. “I don’t think that’s it.” You sighed. “I don’t know. It’s just, recently I’ve felt like there’s something missing in me, you know? Like I have trouble remembering things, and I feel like there’s a hole in my chest, like I’m grieving but I don’t know why. But when he came in and started talking, that hole and that feeling went away. I felt more whole than I have in weeks, for whatever reason.” You stopped, feeling the pitiful glances of your friends. “I don’t know, maybe I’m just being crazy.”

“You’re not crazy,” MJ said, her voice as soft as you’ve ever heard it. She put her hand on your shoulder. “Lately we’ve all kind of had that problem, even though you more than most.” She gestured to the rest of your friends and they nodded too, their faces filled with sympathy. “I know my memory’s been fuzzy and confusing ever since that weird incident with Spider-Man and the Statue of Liberty.” She snorted. “Who knows, maybe that Peter Parker is Spider-Man and made a magician erase him from our memory to protect the world from collapsing in on itself?” Everyone laughed, a little somberly.

“Thanks M, you guys,” you said. “However unlikely that scenario is, I just feel like if I talk to Peter, maybe things will make some sense again.”

“We’re here for you,” Harry nudged. “And if it turns out that he is a perv, just call me and say the word ‘pineapple’.” He whispered the word, as if Peter was still outside, and could hear him.

You grinned, and gave Harry a side hug. “Will do Harry.”

You loved your friends, you really did, and they were really supportive through whatever had happened and whatever was wrong with you, but you couldn’t help but wonder if Peter Parker could help solve your problems.

Exactly at four, you walked up to Peter, who was already at the coffee shop. He was dressed in a blue sweater over a plaid flannel with some nice jeans. You were wearing Peter’s old Midtown sweatshirt, and he knew it was his and not yours because it was much bigger than yours, going down practically to your knees. It made him smile, just like old times.

“Hi,” he said, waving slightly, before cringing at the awkwardness of it.

“Hi,” you replied. “Do you wanna walk around? Or go somewhere?”

“Do you wanna walk down Cornelia Street?” Peter asked. He knew you loved the Taylor Swift song, and ever since you saw the street in real life, you always wanted to live there. You always walked down there together when it was warm enough, making unrealistic plans for the future. “They have really--”

“Awesome and beautiful apartments that would make a great place to live,” you finished, the words coming out of your mouth before you could even process them.

“Yeah,” Peter said, breathlessly. He wanted to jump up and down at the fact there was still some trace of him within your memory after all. “You took the words right out of my mouth.”

You walked side by side next to Peter in silence for a few minutes as you walked the route to Cornelia Street. “I like your bracelet,” Peter said. “All of the charms are really cool.”

“Thanks,” you said, taking the lightsaber charm in your left hand. “I really like it.”

“Where’d you get?” He asked, hoping to partially jog your memory. “It looks custom.”

You bit your lip and avoided eye contact. “Um, I’m actually not sure.”

“Oh,” Peter replied, trying to hide his disappointment. “Well it’s still cool.”

“Yeah, I think the charms each have a meaning, but my memory’s been really weird lately and I can’t remember what they are,” you said.

Peter knew exactly what the meanings were. A lightsaber for the first movie you ever watched together when you were eight being “A New Hope”. A camera for how Peter always loved to take photo shoots of you ever since he got his first camera. A boombox for how you both loved to watch cheesy 90s rom-coms together. A trident for your Greek mythology-Percy Jackson phase in sixth grade.

Peter could go on. He spent hours looking through jewelry stores trying to find specific ones to fit your memories together, starting with a small web charm (for Spider-Man, obviously), and buying another couple each holiday. You told him it was probably the best and most thoughtful gift you had ever gotten.

He wanted to grab you by the shoulders and shout the meanings and the memories he had gotten those charms for, making it the thing that made you remember everything, and then kiss you to make up for all the lost time. But instead Peter simply replied, “My memory’s been weird too.”

You turned your head to face him as you kept walking. “Really? I thought I was crazy, I feel like it’s only me and my friends who’ve felt like it.”

He shook his head. “No, yeah, I’ve been having gaps ever since that weird thing with the crack in the sky and the Statue of Liberty.”

“Me too!” You exclaimed. “And the strangest things keep happening to me, like, I feel urges to send a text to someone, and make sure they’re okay, but I have no idea who. Or I want to open my window to let someone in, even though my apartment is on the fourth floor, and no one could make it up there since we don’t have a fire escape. I even find clothes in my closet that I know aren’t mine, but I don’t know whose they are.” You turned to Peter, who was nodding his head, genuinely interested. “And sometimes I feel this physical pain in my chest, this overflow of emotions I don’t understand, like I’m supposed to be grieving something or someone, but I don’t know who. Like I’m missing something important inside of me.” You paused, worried that Peter would run at this strangeness. “Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” Peter said softly. “It does.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath before you continued. “And I know this probably sounds crazy, cause I know we only met a few hours ago, but you look so familiar to me. In a way that I can’t even describe. It’s like I’ve known you forever. And you make that pain in my chest and my head want to disappear. It doesn’t make any sense.”

What you were telling him astounded Peter. He didn’t imagine in a million years that this would’ve happened. His absence was actually causing you physical pain. It was like your mind wanted to continue your life as if Peter was still in it, even though you didn’t know who he was. Peter felt he owed it to you to tell you the truth after all he heard. And even if he hadn’t crafted the perfect ‘not sound insane’ speech, Peter thought you could believe him.

Right as you finished, you turned the corner onto Cornelia Street. The sun was setting, and the orange-pink skies over the luxurious apartments made it look breathtaking.

In a rush of adrenaline, Peter intertwined your fingers together, and led you over to a bench and sat down, you next to him.

He took a deep breath. “Do you remember that flash in the sky that happened a couple weeks ago, near the Statue of Liberty?” You nodded, eyes squinted a little in confusion. “That was a spell that a wizard named Dr. Strange cast that ripped a hole in the multiverse, well technically the second one fixed the hole in the multiverse, the first one made the hole.”

You blinked a couple of times, trying to make sure you heard him right. “What?”

“I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true,” Peter insisted, grabbing your hands. “The second spell he cast made everyone forget me. Because it was the only way to fix everything. You were there. You cried and begged me not to do it. You said you didn’t want to forget.”

You looked at the ground, mouth slightly agape. “Why didn’t I want to forget you? We don’t know each other,” your voice sounded reluctantly incredulous, like you didn’t want to believe him. “What would I have to forget?”

Peter moved his head lower, so you would look at him. “Me. Us. Before all of this crazy stuff happened we were in love, and before that we were best friends since we were kids.” You looked up Peter, unreadable expression.

“Really?” You whispered, slight pain in your voice. “You’re really telling the truth?”

“Yeah,” Peter replied. “I promise I am.”

“You’re Peter Parker,” you said, more to yourself than to him. “And the spell made me forget you?”

“Yeah,” he said again softly. “That pain in your chest, the gaps in your memory, the part of you that you feel is missing?” You nodded at his pause. “That’s me.”

“I believe you,” you said. “As crazy as it sounds, despite the fact that I probably shouldn't, I believe you.” Peter smiled, laughing a little.

“Do you think if you kissed me, all of my memories come back in a rush montage like in the movies with amnesiacs?” You asked, rubbing the back of your neck.

Peter shrugged. “I think it’s worth a shot.”

Peter took your face in his hand and you both looked into each other's eyes for a few seconds, sharing a moment of silent healing for both of you. You leaned in, and he pulled you in, feeling the infamous ‘spark’ as your lips connected. You stayed that way for a second, and when you pulled away to breath, you searched your memory, trying to remember anything, any memory of Peter.

Nothing.

“Did it work?” He asked eagerly. “Do you remember?”

“No.” You shook your head sadly, but a second after you did, you grabbed Peter’s wrist, and pulled a bracelet from underneath his sleeve before you even realized what you were doing. It was a red and blue beaded bracelet, like the kind of plastic ones you gave out to all your friends as a kid. Still acting on instinct, you pressed the blue bead right before the knot that held it together.

A red projection of the Spider-Man mask appeared before the both of you on the bench. Peter had worn the bracelet ever since you gave it to him in fifth grade, and added the projection to it after he found no actual use to it in his Stark suit, but still wanted to keep it nonetheless. You always liked to mess with the bracelet and put up the projection when you were bored.

You both gasped, looking at each other in awe.

“How did you know how to do that?”

You shrugged, adrenaline rushing through your veins. “Muscle memory, I think.”

“Maybe if we kiss again, you’ll remember something else?” Peter suggested. “Like one kiss equals one memory?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, but pulled him in and kissed him once again, feeling nothing but pure bliss.

When you pulled away, you picked up your wrist to look at your charm bracelet on instinct. “You gave me this,” you said, eyes wide. “You gave me this for my birthday.”

“Yeah,” Peter nodded enthusiastically. “I did.”

“And-and this charm,” you picked up the black dahlia charm. “You got it because you tried to buy me a necklace with one in Venice but it broke because you were fighting the dude with the fishbowl head, so you got the charm instead!”

“That’s exactly what happened!” Peter exclaimed.

“Oh my god, I remember what all of these mean,” you said, taking a bunch of them in your hand. “The Empire State Building is for both me being obsessed with it in second grade and you swung me up there the first time you took me swinging. The-The fridge is for that time at three AM when we wanted to dance, but your living room needed new light bulbs, so we just kept the refrigerator door open as a light and played ‘Home’ by Bruno Major on a loop.”

“Yes. Yes. Yes,” Peter repeated, unable to believe this was happening. Unable to believe that you remembered. “We almost melted all of May’s coffee ice cream and she was so mad.”

“But not as mad as that one time when we were kids and decided it would be a good idea to give each other Sharpie tattoos,” you said, breathless as the words rushed out of your mouth. “I still have part of the Black Widow hourglass on my ankle.” You laughed, pulling your legging up to show him. “That’s what that was!”

“Yeah,” Peter said, pulling up his right sleeve. “And I still have the face of the Iron Man mask!”

You gasped again, getting up quickly and confirming your suspicions. Your initials and Peter’s initials were carved in a heart on the back of the wood(ish) bench. “We carved our initials into this bench. So when we have money and can afford to rent a place on this street we could just sit here and talk.”

“Exactly,” Peter said faintly. “Exactly.” You knocked your foreheads together, both just enjoying being together.

“I don’t remember everything,” you murmured. “Some things, but not all of them.”

“That’s okay, I’m just glad you remember anything,” he replied. “I can tell you about things you don’t remember and we can make new memories too.”

“That sounds good.” You shifted, leaning your head on Peter’s shoulder. “Can you tell me some now?”

“Sure,” Peter said, putting his head half on top of yours. “On Valentine’s day, sophomore year, the first Valentine’s day after we started dating, I put chocolates in your locker, and got you the earbuds charm for your bracelet--”

“Because we liked to share earbuds and make each other playlists,” you finished.

Peter smiled. “Yeah. And you waited until after school to give me your present. We decided to eat at Delmar’s in fancy clothes, to seem like adults, and after we were finished eating, you pulled out this gallon sized bag full of candy hearts, and they were personalized with funny messages and pick up lines, like ‘are you copper and tellurium? because you’re CuTe’ and ‘you must be the force because Yoda only one for me’” Peter chuckled. “You also got me a new sweater, but the fact that you took the time to write like fifty different pick up lines for me really warmed my heart and made it my favorite gift.”

You giggled. “That definitely sounds like something I would do. You deserve to have a billion pick up lines.”

You sat there for a moment, enjoying the peaceful noise of New York, enjoying the comfort of having each other there for them.

“Peter?” You asked, not moving from the position you were in.

“Yeah?”

You bit your lip, deciding to tell him what you were thinking. “Do you think we’ll be able to give each other the peace we’re looking for?”

Peter turned his head towards you at that. “What do you mean?”

You shrugged. “I know that we’ve found each other somehow, despite a freaking memory erasing spell, and that’s amazing, and I love that, and I’m pretty sure I love you, but,” you sighed. “We’re both kind of looking for a peace within the other that might not be satisfiable.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s just that you’re looking for me so you can have a piece of your old life back, and I was looking to fill in my memory and problems, a peace of sorts, you know? I know it sounds stupid and that I’m overthinking this, but what if we can’t give each other that thing we’re looking for? What if we try to seek that feeling instead of love?” Your voice cracked as you finished. “What if I can’t give you peace?”

“Hey,” Peter said delicately, putting his hands on your shoulders. “I don’t want peace. I realized a long time ago that my life was never gonna be peaceful. I was looking for you because I love you. Not because I wanted peace. All I want is you, and the love we have. You matter so much to me, and I’m not losing you again. Especially over something as stupid as peace.” He put your foreheads together again. “I love you.”

Silent tears ran down your face as you smiled. How could you have forgotten this person you loved so much? A person who made you feel so happy and so loved. “I love you too.”

“We might not be able to give each other peace,” Peter said. “But I know that we can make each other pretty damn happy.”

Tags :

peter parker x reader peter parker fanfiction spider man peter parker spider-man fan fiction spider-man x reader peter parker fanfic peter parker x fem!reader peter parker x you peter parker x y/n marvel x reader mcu x reader tom!peter x reader tom!peter parker peter 1 x reader mcu!peter x reader

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alexxcorona113