Someone Get Me My Peter Parker - Tumblr Posts
this is so precious, I'm crying 😭
Feverish (1.4k)
summary: when peter finds out you're sick, he opts not to go do his spidey business and takes care of you instead.
warnings: reader being sick, eating and food, mentions of pete bloody and beaten
pairing: tasm!peter parker x fem!reader
a/n: look at me writing for someone other than james potter 👀 anyways, roommate au yall 🥰!!
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“You should just go, Pete. I’m fine over here, with my soup and … this really cold apartment.” You mutter bitterly, clutching your body tighter.
Peter scoffs, “When say shit like that I'm not assured about your well-being at all, Y/n." He sighed deeply and rubbed two fingers on his forehead.
"I insist that you go, do all your saving lives shit and come back to me with that sandwich roll I like from the corner store." You said, feeling more annoyed.
Peter put his hands on his hips dramatically, huffing a sigh and sitting down in your bed. You roll your eyes at him and press further into your sheets.
You respected and was really grateful that Peter wanted to stay at home and take care of you. But with his indecisive ass, he couldn't make up his mind. You told him countless times that you were okay, but the boy just wasn't having it.
He's been like this the moment you stepped inside the apartment. It was probably two years ago when you signed the lease to share with Peter. You were just fresh out of high school, new to the City and had no idea where you were. That was until you found the 'roommate wanted' sign in a sports centre it was posted under the name May— so you definitely didn't expect a male roommate. Turns out, Peter's aunt had helped with it, but she wasn't the one living there.
Slowly but surely, your friendship grew and bloomed in the small confines of the musty apartment. Both of you were way too broke to pay for a nicer place, months barely scraping by at your shitty jobs. This was part of the reason you couldn't turn the heater on because it cost a lot. So you settled into a nice, cheap, albeit a little rough routine.
Though somehow, Peter made it all feel good. Both of you ate from the Chinese restaurant near there almost every night, revelling in egg rolls and chicken soup. Somedays, pizza it was. Between studying, eating, and watching re-reruns of Friends episodes, life was good.
But that was before it happened. One night while you were sleeping, the door banged open. With a frightening yelp, you got our if bed with a spatula in hand to at least guard you against the sound.
But when the light was turned on by the supposed intruder, you were shocked. Peter Parker ... Peter Parker your roommate was in a Spiderman suit. And from then on, you knew Peter better as Spiderman. You sometimes still couldn't believe it, after watching him from the news screen, gliding all I've New York City.
But here you were now, laying in bed all sickly while he was by your side trying his best to keep you warm.
"Oh, God. You're shivering, what do I do?" He asks in a panicky voice, his eyebrows furrowing in complete confusion.
"Just shut up. It would make me feel a lot better." You grumbled, trying to focus on sleeping peacefully.
"I'm sorry we can't turn the heater on, shit just costs so much and we gotta save for winter." He changed the topic, biting on his nails guiltily.
"No, it's okay, m'fine." You mutter.
Out of nowhere, Peter suddenly puts a hand on your back and begin rubbing your body. Warmth spreading to you, not just on your body but also in your cheeks. Peter had always been quite the physical guy, cuddling with you in front of the television, leaning into you while you cooked, and so on.
Out of all those moments, you didn't know why him rubbing your back gently made you flush even redder. His hands go to your hair now, raking the strands and massaging your scalp.
"Feeling better?" He asks, chuckling a little at his own words.
"Mmh, not at all. But keep going, please." You said, revelling at the feeling of his soft touch. Peter is feeling your forehead, your cheeks, then your neck.
"You're really hot." He stated, gaping when he heard his own words.
You snicker at him, turning your head to his side, "Thanks, so are you Spiderman."
Peter groans at this because one of the things he hates is that you always bring up Spiderman. He said it was weird and felt like he was two people at once, always telling you to stop with it because it made him feel like someone else. But you couldn't really stop it, knowing something like this was huge.
Peter gets off the bed, his weight making the wood creak beneath him. "Come out for a sec, we'll get some soup in you and then you can rest for the day." He offers, a hand already extended so you could grab it.
You stare at the ceiling, giving Peter your hand. Your fingers innocently coil together. "Honestly, I don't have the energy anymore." You say tiredly, rubbing your head.
Peter seemed to frown when he saw your expression. You must have some sort of headache going on because you were rarely this unenergized. With nothing to say, he squeezed your hand and leaned his face forward to plant a kiss on your head. "Alright, I'll go bring it for you. Wait up for me, don't fall asleep just yet."
You smiled weakly at him. Your mind wandered to the times you've cared for each other. That one time when he came home all beaten up and bloody, his suit torn by the arm and his body limp. That was the source of your nightmares, seeing Peter like that hurt you more than anything did. He looked fragile, remembering that he was just as much a kid like you— but in a suit trying his best.
That night, you brought the first aid kit and pressed alcohol swabs to his skin. You winced every time he hissed, your heart hammering at the sight of him in pain. You had to help him shower for about a month or so, knowing how delicate the stitches you crafted on his skin were.
A knock on the door signalled Peter coming, you grinned at the sight of him inside your room. He bought a tray, in it was a bowl of soup, a tall glass of water, and a few pills. He set it down gently on your nightstand, taking out the bowl first and putting it in your hands. "Here you go, eat up."
"I could've gotten my own soup, y'know? I'm a big girl, Pete." You complain, though grateful as ever once you begin spooning the soup and feeling better with a filled stomach.
"Yeah, sure. You can't even change the showerhead setting." Peter starts, chuckling at the memory.
"That was one time!" You said loudly, but not quite a shout. "The roll thingy was hard to push, don't blame me!" You defended.
"No, no I just love teasing you." He admits. "Anyways, do you wanna watch something? I'll bring my laptop over here, I know you fall asleep faster with something playing on." He offers, a kind smile on his face.
You nodded at him through the spoonful of soup in your mouth. Then Peter was out the door, quick to bring his laptop and set something on it. He waited until you were finished eating, got the water out and helped you with the pill. After that, both of you settled in bed.
The heater wasn't on, so it was quite cold. But Peter kept you warm, his body basically covering you like a warm jacket. There were blankets strewn all over the bed, making it more comfortable for you and Peter.
Peter has a hand behind your back, caressing you over your large sweatshirt. He rubs you gently, careful not to make it harsher and cause you any discomfort. Another hand is clutched under the laptop to keep it steady.
And with a final look at the screen, your eyelids begin to close tiredly. When Peter takes note of this, he closes the laptop and lays you down gently. Then he's about to leave—
"Can you stay with me? You're really really warm and you take care of me so well." You admit, the heat on your cheeks are practically scorching.
Peter mutters, "Of course." As quickly as he jumped onto the bed. Your body is faced to the other side, so Peter takes it upon himself to spoon you gently. As he drapes his body over yours, you let out an appreciative hum.
Peter presses gentle kisses on the side of your head and you swear you've never come near bursting before. He takes his time with you, never rushing into your process of anything.
—@ wrathspoet
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