Tasm Peter - Tumblr Posts

The perfect moodboard for christmas this year!

🎄 . spending christmas with tasm!peter

hot cocoa late at night. swinging on top of buildings to see the pretty lights. spider-man themed gifts. matching ugly sweaters. getting tangled in the xmas lights. decorating the tree together. having an ornament with your picture in it. handwritten letters. baking. hand kisses. borrowing his sweaters. listening to christmas music. watching christmas movies under the warm blankets. ice skating. holding hands. playing with peter's hair. getting matching things. peppermint perfume.

"you're cold, bub." peter says, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck as you cuddle on the couch — "and you're very warm, pete."

AKA (The Most Perfect Pure-Hearted Man Alive.) 😍💞

Peter Parker

—The Amazing Spider-Man

can u give us cherry and peter crumbs? literally anything 🙏

peter’s pausing between blinks, he’s sure the next time he opens his eyes you won’t be there. one blink, two blinks, three blinks.

you’re half laying on the end of his bed, ass naked, chewing on the top end of a pencil. you’re looking down at a list, you pull the eraser from your teeth and point towards peter.

‘so, i’m thinking you eat me out… tuesday? does that work for you?’ you correct yourself, ‘unless you think we’re ready for me to give you a blowjob.’

peter slowly breathes in, he’s a little scared that if he moves too fast you’ll prove to be the figment of his imagination he believes you to be.

‘or-‘ you draw it out, shifting to sit crisscrossed in front of peter. ‘we do a real first- sixty nine. that’s right, baby. i’m talking two at the same time.’

peter reaches out, his fingers brush your knee. you’re real.

‘you’ve got to be the most confident virgin to ever exist.’

‘you’re the one who made a big deal about firsts, im just trying to do them as quick as possible.’ oh, that’s what makes you shy?

you bat at his hands tapping your lower thighs. ‘c’mon, cherry. sex isn’t something you schedule.’

well, he’s done that a few times, but not how you are.

‘but it’s something i can rush, and you better help me at it, too. you’re focusing a lot on me and i really like it, but i can’t move on until i learn how to make a guy come.’

‘i can’t move on until i learn how to make a guy come.’ is that the cheat code? peter can take as much time as he wants pleasuring you as long as he keeps you away from him?

‘we’re not rushing anything and you can’t make me.’

you stare into his eyes, ‘so, no eating me out tuesday?’

your back hits the bed, peter leans down over you. you suck in a breath when your right leg is clawed open, wet kisses mark down your neck.

‘why wait?’

Life and art go hand in hand...

ANDREW GARFIELD at the Zegna Fashion Show.

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A nice hardworking guy gets up, goes to work, and returns home to find his life upended like a forgotten venti Starbucks left on the roof of a car. One chapter in and we’ve already got the mystery barreling down the path towards a potential conflict, the uneasy reunion of two lovers, and an empire that may or may not be growing with a bequest that seems to be problematic and that’s putting it mildly. Way to set the stage! My interest is piqued; gonna go read Chapter Two!

The Angel In The Garden of Evil | Chapter 1 : The Call of a Night Bird

Summary: Peter Parker's wife left him 3 years ago. Suddenly she's back and she's brought some news that is about to change everything, unfortunately that news comes with its own set of complications and he's out for blood.

Warning: 18+ Only, mature themes, eventual smut, weapons, angst, lots of emotional tension

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: Hello, welcome, I am so excited to be sharing this story. It has consumed me for the last week resulting in me so far having written a total of almost 20,000! words, including the Prologue which you can find here. As mentioned in the others note for the prologue and in subsequent posts lately, I have come to adore Mob!Au Peter Parker stories after finding the wonderful @liz-allyn's Sugar + Vice series and even more recently @p3mybeloved one shots based on the lyrics of Florence and the Machine's Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up). If you haven't read either and you enjoy this fic and want more like it I would highly recommend checking them out. Anyway this is the first part of a 2 chapter drop, but after that you can expect weekly chapter releases every Friday. Now, without further ado, I hope you enjoy, this is The Angel In The Garden of Evil.

ONE

Peter Parker was nonchalant about journeys home, it was simply routine at this point in his life. Although he had other properties in the city and even around the world, this was his only true safe space. A large mansion on the outskirts of the city. 7 bedrooms, 5 bathrooms and an open living and kitchen space that covered the whole of the back half of the downstairs of the house. With a swimming pool, hot tub and basketball court all in the backyard and a view of the Hudson to die for, anyone would mistake it for paradise on earth.

Once upon a time, he’d get excited about coming home, the smell of dinner being cooked wafting around the house, music permeating the whole of the downstairs, windows lit, guiding his way up the large driveway as his driver pulled in through the gates. But that was then. That was before.

Sure coming home was still his safe place. The place he could mostly let his guard down when work wasn’t being brought home, but it was quieter now. It was darker now. He had to switch the lights on himself. Instead of sitting down at the dinner table, a meal prepared and laid out for him, he now fixed himself a drink from the bar cart, sat at that same dining room table and drank alone. Day in, day out, that same routine ever since she left. His Angel.

Everything had been harder since she left. Work was harder. Getting up and living was harder. Suddenly he had to factor in extra costs she had been taking care of; weekly shopping, the cleaner, the gardener. Heck he had even paid out for a storage facility to hold all her things. He had the whole house redecorated because everything reminded him of her. She was his everything, they were going to rule the whole city together. But now it’s just him. 

He reached forward for the small drinks tray in the car, pouring himself a finger of whiskey from the decanter. He unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt and ruffled up his hair as he slumped back into his seat in the back of the car, his head leaning back against the headrest.

“Everything okay back there boss?” Miguel asked from the driver's seat.

“Hmm, yeah.” Peter sighed as he forced himself to make eye contact with his driver through the rear view mirror.

“It’s her again isn’t it.”

Peter said nothing.

“You know boss, I knew she’d be nothing but trouble when-“ Miguel began to berate as he pulled up to the main gate, waiting for it to slide open with their arrival, but Peter’s demeanour suddenly changed, a frown pulling at his brow as he suddenly looked past the reflection of his driver and out the front window of the car. There were lights on in the house.

Peter’s hand slowly began to run along the carpeted roof of the car, his fingers pushing on a particular spot that revealed a compartment that concealed an emergency gun. His fingers tentatively closed around the handle as he brought it down, his senses continuing to assess the situation as Miguel drove slowly up to the house, careful to make as little noise on the gravel pathway as possible.

As they grew closer, Peter’s tension only grew as they realised the front door had been left open. The car had barely stopped when both men tentatively got out of the car, their doors left open in front of them as they each raised their pieces, scouting for danger. Peter motioned for Miguel to watch his back as he slowly edged his way around the car, the placements of his feet careful and quiet. As he got closer to the door he could hear music echoing down the hallway. 

His feet stepped gingerly through the foyer as he followed the sound. 

“Well, then suddenly there was no one Left standing in the hall, yeah, yeah In a flood of tears That no one really ever heard fall at all”

All the way down the hall nothing seemed a miss. Everything was still tidy. No one had broken in to ransack the place and he was definitely sure if they had they wouldn’t be blasting Stevie Nicks in the kitchen whilst they did it. He held a hand up towards Miguel who had slowly been following behind him. He could hear the sound of oil sizzling in a pan and then-

“Well I went searching for an answer, up the stairs and down the hall, and not to find an answer, just to hear the call of a night bird…”

He’d know that voice anywhere. Her voice. Angel. 

It had been so long, almost like a charm that disarmed him, he began to lower his weapon, his stance relaxing. He quietly motioned his hand for Miguel to leave and they both shared a silent nod of understanding. Peter took in a deep breath as he confidently strolled through the doorway into the kitchen. 

She had her back to him as she danced across the tiled floor, lost in the music as she cooked. It was just like before- but it wasn’t. She had left. He had erased her entire existence from his life. 

He put the safety back on his gun and dropped it forcefully on top of the large kitchen island. He expected the sudden noise, the announcement of his presence, to at least shake her, startle her in some way, but she didn’t so much as flinch.

“Honey, I’m home.” He further announced himself.

She finally turned to face him. A part of him couldn’t help but melt when she turned, wooden spoon held aloft, mid-air,  as she turned and smiled at him. 

“I’m just adding a few more bits and it’ll be ready.” She beamed, her voice calling to him over the music and the sizzle of the vegetables in the pan like nothing was wrong. Like she hadn’t been gone for three years.

He rolled his eyes as she turned her back to him again, continuing to sing the last chorus of the song as she cooked. He raised his hands, confused, exasperated, unsure of what to do with himself. He ultimately found his feet already carrying himself to the bar cart, his usual routine kicking in. Was it his usual routine though or the sudden need for a strong drink to help get him through this inevitable conversation.

“I see you’ve redecorated.” she chirped.

He didn’t respond, leaving a long pause as he poured his drink.

“Darling, how did you get in?” He instead said, changing the subject as he took his usual seat at the table.

“The front door.” She innocently responds. “By the way,” she adds, turning to face him with both frying pan and wooden spoon in hand, as she continues to stir, “my birthday Peter really? You couldn’t come up with a more original security code?”

“In my defence Princess, I wasn’t expecting you to come home.” he said, his lips pulling tight.

She pursed her lips, raising her eyebrows in defeat and giving a small nod as she turned back to the stove.

He watched her from his spot at the head of the table as he sipped on his drink, his fingers drumming on the seat of his chair between his legs as he spread out, trying to look confident in his own home. He couldn’t help but let his eyes roam over her form as she turned off the knobs to the hob and the oven.

He felt a small sense of pride when she went to the cupboard to find the plates, only to realise he’d also replaced and moved those too.

“You moved the plates.” She sighs, her fingers drumming on the wooden cabinet as she took in a deep breath. When he didn’t immediately respond she turned her head to stick him with her piercing gaze. 

“They’re this side on the left.” He finally said, pointing towards where the cabinet would be on the other side of the island to him.

“Thank you.” She curtly replied as she moved across the kitchen to retrieve them.

She serves up the dinner, switching off the extractor fan, suddenly plunging them both into silence as she carries the two plates of food over to the table. 

Their eye contact is tense as she places the plate of food in front of him, so much needing to be said. Things that should have been said before. Things they’d both wanted to say since.

They continued to dance around each other in silence, cutlery scraping against plates as they ate. Peter didn’t want to admit it, but he’d really missed her cooking. He’d missed her altogether- but he knew he couldn’t get too attached. He didn’t even know why she was here in the first place, let alone how long it was for.

He let his eyes gaze along the long table towards where she sat up the other end and only then was it that he noticed the large envelope on the table. He stared at it, frozen, his hands resting his cutlery either side of his plate, his food now forgotten.

“Princess, whatever you do, don’t tell me those are divor-“

“Peter, my father's dead.” She blurted out. Her hands were now in her lap as she looked absentmindedly at a spot on the table.

“What?” Peter said tentatively in shock as he waited for her to look at him.

She looked around the room for a moment before she said it again, still not able to lock eyes with him. “My fathers dead.” He watched as she suddenly steeled herself. She pushed her chair back from the table, pushing herself to a stand with the arms of the chair. Her heels clacked across the floor as her fingers ran along the wood until they found the envelope that lay in the middle of the table between them. Peter leaned back in his seat to look up at her as she moved closer, her hip leaning against the table top as she handed the envelope to him.

Peter tentatively opened the envelope, his fingers reaching for the paper inside. 

“It’s his will.” She said as his fingers pulled the paper from its sheath and began to scan the text on the paper. She watched as he began to flip through the pages until he was on the last one as he froze. “He left you everything.” She said out loud, confirming what he was reading.

He looked up at her in shock. “But, I don’t understand.” He said as he began to reread the final page to be sure. “He hated me.” He said as he looked up at her again. “That’s why-” Peter couldn’t say it. That’s why she had left. 

Her Father had made her leave. He was his rival, she had run off and married the enemy and he had made her leave. Forced her onto a plane and took her who knows where. Well Peter knew where. Northern Italy. He had had Eddie go looking for her the moment he’d gotten home and found her gone. Their room ransacked, suitcases missing.

“Why would he leave me everything?”

“Because he couldn’t outright leave it to me.” She said.

She wasn’t bitter. She was calm, confident, aware that now she was back by her husband's side. The only place she’d really wanted to be. Her fair, just husband, who, although called her Princess, had always treated her like his Queen.

“Baby, how did he die?” Peter asked as he rose from his seat to stand in front of her. His head hung low, his forehead almost touching hers. It was the closest he could allow himself to be to her right now.

Her eyes gazed up into his and he watched as her expression changed. A fear grew in her eyes in a way he had never seen before. Even when he had first met her on the edge of 17, when his whole empire wasn’t even a dream. When she was still afraid of her Father and his job, even then he hadn’t seen this kind of fear in her eyes.

“He couldn’t let him have it.” Her voice was small, timid as tears began to well in her eyes.

“Who? He couldn’t let who have it?”

He was patient as he waited for her to find her voice, to bypass all of the painful memories that seemed to be flooding her. 

“They call him the Vulture.”

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

New chapters will drop every Friday, but it's okay, you don't have to wait for chapter 2, this is a double drop and it's already waiting for you right here!

If you want to be added to the tag list be sure to let me know in writing or re-blogging this post. All of these initial tags come from the likes on my original teaser, as well as the prologue and those who re-blogged that post and asked to be tagged. (I will not be adding on tags from likes alone from her on out, so if you want the tag you have got to ask for it.)

@scmdsblog @angiexsv @thef1nalgirl @did-someone-change-my-name @sincericida @tarzinnia @liz-allyn @blacksoul09 @humxncrxvings @sunnycolors @suicide-sweetheart636 @ahryi @ms-wild-card-56

(If you liked the prologue or teaser post but haven't been tagged, it's because for some reason I could't, maybe check your settings and be sure to hit the follow button so you don't miss out.

That was a serious adrenaline rush that was. Loved that you referenced Mr and Mrs Smith. Banter is one of my favorite parts of fanfiction in general.

The mystery deepens. These are people sent by The Vulture? Maybe, maybe not? What happened to Miguel? Is he okay? Peter and Angel racing away in the Porsche, she’s wounded, and the house swarming with whatever number of gun wielding criminals left. Hope Peter has a second cache stored somewhere and I’m betting if he doesn’t, it sounds like Angel has acquired some skills she’s kept hidden during their separation. Maybe SHE’S the one with a stash house. Love it!

Looking forward to the next update!

The Angel In The Garden of Evil | Chapter 2: Mr and Mrs Parker

Summary: Things are getting tense in the Parker household as their new enemy starts to make himself known.

Warnings: 18+ Only, mature content, eventual smut, weapons, shooting, life threatening incidents, a lot of emotional tension, swearing

Word Count: 2.7k+

A/N: I love this chapter so much. It's my first real proper action scene I've written. As the name of the chapter hints, it's very Mr and Mrs Smith inspired. I have been falling completely in love with these characters and now I hope you are too. So here we go... (also, any thought's on who might be Angel's Dad?)

TWO

Peter had heard of the Vulture before, but only at a distance. A rumour. An urban legend. Ghost story even, told by scared lackeys who had moved from one place to another looking for work after their last master had disappeared. Aptly named for the way he swooped in to feast off of what was left.  

“No one talks about how he’s the mastermind who causes their downfall in the first place.” she fills in.

They had moved to the adjoining living room. Peter sat perched on the edge of the sofa, his elbows leant forward on his knees as he watched her pace back and forth as she recounted everything.

“He’d swoop in, in the dead of night, picking off anyone he could get his hands on, one by one. My dad didn’t think much about it at first. Thought it was one of the Italian groups getting too big for their boots. Then he took out the warehouse on West 49th-”

“In the Kitchen?”

“Yeah.” her voice was timid.

“Wait, you’ve been back in the city?” How had he not noticed? Why hadn’t Eddie told him.

“Yes.” she said again, the word barely audible. She couldn’t meet his eyes, her guilt clear on her face.

“How long?”

“4 Months.” she admitted. She finally looked at him as his brow furrowed. He sat back in his seat, his hands sliding down his face in exasperation. She could feel his energy twisting, his temper beginning to boil under the surface of his skin. “Don’t be mad at Eddie.” Her words shook him to his core. “I know you had him come find me.” She said as she stepped towards him, but didn’t dare go any further than the coffee table, the unspoken no man's land.

“You knew I had Eddie following you?”

“Peter, he’s an ex investigative journalist not the private investigator you think he is.” Peter didn’t respond, just stared up at her as he leaned forward on his knees again. “I told him not to say anything. I didn’t want it to start another war. It took me long enough as it was to try and convince my Father to let me come home with the promise I wouldn’t contact you. Let alone push my luck.”

Peter’s face fell. After all this time, she was still  the one person he couldn’t keep his facade up with, except maybe Harry. 

“Peter I promise you I didn’t want to leave. Why do you think there were never any divorce papers sent? That was the deal I made with him. I would leave only on the grounds that as soon as he died, I’d be straight back here. He knew that, that’s why he left you the whole Kitchen in the end.”

Peter still couldn’t believe it. After years, the only stronghold in the city he couldn’t penetrate, Hell’s Kitchen, her father’s domain, was now his.

“He’s gonna be coming for you Peter. He doesn’t take too kindly to not getting his meal after he’s made his kill.”

He stared at her, almost like she was a stranger in that moment. The way she spoke. Now hardened by the three year separation. All that time spent with her Father. She dressed differently, did her hair differently. Getting closer to 30 had changed her. No longer was she the fresh faced girl straight out of college he’d originally snuck around with behind her father’s back. Nor the innocent bride, no something had changed her, hardened her. That’s when he noticed it, a small flash of red.

“Get down.” he shouted as he leapt across the coffee table to tackle her to the ground as the first shot went off. 

Her hands instinctively reached to protect her head as they both shuffled across the rug, Peter pushing the coffee table out of the way as a barrage of bullets came hurtling through the windows. They lay hunched down on the floor in front of the sofa.

“Where’s the closest gun?” she shouted over the sound of gunfire. 

His eyes instinctively looked at his piece, still sitting on top of the kitchen island. Upon realising it was too far he looked at a painting on the wall to their left. If he could just get to the safe hidden behind it. 

“Jesus Christ.” she shouted as her hand reached down to her trouser leg, lifting it up to reveal the holster strapped tightly around her ankle. She pulled the smallest pistol Peter had ever seen from it. She nestled closer to the sofa as she removed the safety, using the briefest of windows between shooting to check out the window. She could barely see a thing out there through the cracked glass. “I can buy you maybe 30 seconds, you’ve gotta make it count.”

He gave a quick nod of confirmation.

“Ready? 3…2…1-” she sat herself up, leaning her arms on the back of the sofa and making one shot, then two, both hitting their mark as Peter rushed towards the left wall. He practically ripped the painting off the wall to reveal the safe behind it, his fingers dexterously entering the code to unlock it,

He heard two more shots as his fingers reached for the pieces of the two guns inside. There was one more shot, then another, he was trying to block it out, focussing on sliding the magazine into the guns, one getting tucked into his belt once completed, the other still in his hand when-

“Ahh fuck.” he heard her cry. He turned to see her crouching back low behind the sofa, her hand covering her left shoulder, blood already beginning to seep through the long sleeved white turtleneck she had on. “Mmmmhmm.” she hummed in pain as he slid back across the floor towards her as another barrage of bullets rang out through the room.

“What happened to my 30 seconds?” he tried to joke and lighten the tone as he protectively crouched over her. His fingers tenderly encouraging her to move her hand so he could assess the damage. 

“It’s fine.” she hissed as her eyes closed, head hitting the back of the sofa firmly as she tried to centre herself and push past it. “Merely grazed me.” she confirmed when he wouldn’t let up.

She pushed him away, placing some distance between them again and forcing him to get focused on the enemy outside once more. She watched as his head inched upwards to quickly look over the back of the sofa and out of the window which had completely shattered at this point, leaving a large gaping hole in the wall. His head quickly ducked again as a few more bullets landed in the top of the sofa, closer to his head.

“Bet you’re glad I redecorated now.” He joked as he watched her toss her now empty pistol to one side. He reached into his waistband for the other gun, holding it out to her.

“Thanks.” she grumbled as she propped herself back up onto her knees, assuming a similar crouched position to him as she rechecked the bullets and the magazine before cocking the gun.

“What, don’t trust me?”

“Old habit.” she grumbled. When had that become an old habit he wondered. “Come on Spider boy, what’s the plan here?”

He felt the corner of his mouth twitch upwards, he hadn’t heard that in a long time and it made him nostalgic, almost youthful again. But he quickly pushed it away, getting his game face on. “We need to get out of here, get around the back, take one of the cars from the garage.”

“I’m assuming it’s locked.” she said before seizing an opportunity to pop up from their cover and fire two shots into her target. Peter couldn’t help the admiration he felt as he watched her fire a perfect head and chest shot into her mark. If they currently weren’t fighting for their lives he definitely would have found himself growing hard. “Yo, Parker. Back here please!” she shouted at him, snapping him out of it. “Keys?”

“Same place as always.”

“So you didn’t move everything.” she sighed, as he took an opportunity to take his shot.

When he settled himself back down tight against the sofa, his body turned to face her, he finally said, “You keep low, head through the kitchen and out the back, I’ll cover you.” 

She gave him a quick nod, waiting for his signal as he checked back over the sofa at their assailants as they took a break from firing to reload. “Ready?” She nodded again. “Go!” he said as he stood and began firing out the window at the gunmen. 

She scuttled across the floor, picking back up her pistol as she went. She was halfway across the floor when the shooting started again. She just caught the sight of a dark figure moving along the windows to track her, before a bullet hit the hardwood floor mere inches to her right. She froze, her head turning in shock. “My bad honey, I’m sorry!” Peter called as he turned his body and shot out the window in the rogue gunman's direction.

She quickly slid herself into the kitchen, her body sliding to the left for the wall that stuck out a little further, giving her cover and allowing her to stand and assess her next move. She needed to get across to the other side of the kitchen to where the utility room was with the key cupboard. She peeked her head around the wall back in the direction of Peter who was now back crouched behind the sofa, reloading his weapon. A shot rang out, hitting the wall just to the side of her head and she quickly took cover again. That’s when she spotted Peter’s other gun he’d first come home with on the island. She lifted her leg, quickly placing her smaller pistol back in its holster, freeing up her other hand once more.

She took a steadying breath before sliding across the tiled floor, using her hand to stop herself once she was safely behind the large island, a couple more shots popping off at her heels and bouncing off the work tops.

“How’s it going Princess?” Peter hollered from the living room.

“I’m working on it!” she shouted back. “Would be a lot easier if I wasn’t being shot at every time I moved!”

“Uh, fuck it!” she heard him grumble to himself.

There was a commotion as furniture was hastily moved and she took that as her opportunity to reach up and grab the second gun off the island. She had just crouched back down into her position when she started to hear the gunmen outside grow frantic. “What the-! Ahhhgg!!” she heard one of them scream. This was her moment, she knew she had to seize it. Both guns in hand she rushed, still crouched low towards the utility room door. There were a couple more shots behind her and then another very unmanly wail before she reached the door, skidding through the open door frame.

She quickly made her way to the left wall, opening up the small cupboard in the wall to reveal a bunch of keys all on different hooks. She began to scan her eyes across the labels. Pool house keys, spare front door key, a whole load of window keys… “Aha!” she exclaimed in triumph as she found the garage door key. She then paused as her eyes fell on the different car keys, spotting the keys to the Porsche. She couldn’t help but smirk as she snatched them off the wall too.

There were a couple more shots, this time coming from the kitchen as she took one glance through the doorframe to see Peter rushing across the room towards her. She raced to open the back door, the adrenaline coursing through her doing well to mask the pain in her shoulder but she couldn’t escape the throbbing sensation that radiated from it. She groaned as the door finally gave way and she raced along the side of the house to where she could see the garage, her fingers quickly slotting one of the guns into her waistband. She paused at the corner wall of the house, checking for any of the gunmen. Her answer came by the way of another shot hitting the wall next to her head making her jump back into the shadows. “Fuck.” she grumbled as she closed her eyes, head falling back against the wall. There was a noise to her right, her eyes quickly flying open, back on alert, her fingers reaching for the safety of the gun in her hands, her arms quickly raising. She quickly lowered it again as she saw her husband, creeping across the back of the house towards her. 

“What are you waiting for?” he hissed as he came up beside her.

“Really?” she hissed back, shooting him a look that said she thought he was the biggest dumbass she’d ever met. He merely shrugged. She rolled her eyes as she turned to peer around the side of the house again. Another shot. She recoiled, shooting Peter a look as if to say ‘that’s why I’m waiting.’ Out of the corner of her eye however she could see through one of the back windows of the house, the shadowy figures already making their way through the lower level to hunt them down. Peter, catching her sudden distracted look, quickly followed her gaze before snapping back to her.

“I’ll take care of them, you run.”

“Okay.” she said with a small nod. There was a pause between them before he was holding his hand out to her. “What?”

“I know you took it off the counter.”

She rolled her eyes as she reached back into her waistband for his gun. She slapped the heavy weight of it into his open palm.

“Thank you.” he said. She rolled her eyes at the tiny smirk in the corner of his mouth as their fingers brushed against one anothers in the exchange.

He stepped forward, pushing her back so he was in front as he readied himself. “Ready?” he checked in with her again.

“Ready.” she nodded and he stepped out, arm aloft shooting two bullets in quick succession in two separate targets. She heard their bodies hit the ground as she raced for the garage door, her blood covered fingers fumbling with the key in the lock. There were two more shots behind her, one hitting the top corner of the metal door just as she was turning the handle, pushing the garage door open. 

Her eyes scanned the cars in front of her. “Fuck!” she muttered again as she noticed the silver Porsche further down the garage in the shadow of the other door. She quickly raced over to the second door of the double garage, her fingers working faster this time, but still not fast enough before another bullet hit the bricks that divided the two doors. Her eyes grew wide and she sneered at yet another close call.

“What’s taking so long?” she heard Peter call out.

She ignored him as she threw the second door open, her fingers fumbling for the button on the car keys, a loud chirp and lights flashing as it unlocked. She quickly raced around the drivers side, her shoulder protesting as she flung the door open. “Uhh.” she groaned, clutching it as she quickly slid inside. Her fingers were racing to put the key in the ignition with one hand before she’d even closed the door. There was a loud roar as the car came to life and she reached with her good hand to pull the door to, before she was putting the car in gear, her foot hitting the accelerator.

She broke quickly as she came alongside Peter, her good arm throwing the driver's door open as she simultaneously began manoeuvring herself into the passenger seat. There were two more shots as Peter put one foot and then the other into the car. The driver’s door slammed at the same time his foot was hitting the accelerator, tires squealing as he began to speed down the drive. She watched in discomfort as she shuffled in her seat as a few of the men in front of them quickly leaped out of the way of the car. She groaned in pain once more, as her arm bumped against the car door as Peter skidded off the drive and onto the road, the last few shots ringing out behind them as they sped away from the house as fast as they could.

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

New chapters will drop every Friday!

If you want to be added to the tag list be sure to let me know in writing or re-blogging this post. All of these initial tags come from the likes on my original teaser, as well as the prologue and those who re-blogged that post and asked to be tagged. (I will not be adding on tags from likes alone from her on out, so if you want the tag you have got to ask for it.)

@scmdsblog @angiexsv @thef1nalgirl @did-someone-change-my-name @sincericida @tarzinnia @liz-allyn @blacksoul09 @humxncrxvings @sunnycolors @suicide-sweetheart636 @ahryi @ms-wild-card-56

(If you liked the prologue or teaser post but haven't been tagged, it's because for some reason I could't, maybe check your settings and be sure to hit the follow button so you don't miss out.)

Lizzy's masterlist.

Most of my works contain dark themes or triggering topics. Most of them also have happy endings or humor. Read all the warnings on each chapter. Do not repost or translate my works on any other site. 🔞 All works are 18+ 

My original stories are tagged #Lizzy writes.

Buy me a Ko-fi!

🍬 fluff 🌶 smut ⚔️ whump/violence ☔️ angst ❤️‍🩹 hurt/comfort

🌒 dark themes/sensitive topics 🦌 Lizzy’s favorites

[Agent Mobius x F!Reader]

shudder | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 [series complete; villain!TVA Recruit!reader] ⚔️☔️❤️‍🩹🌶

“There was no question in anyone’s mind that you were lethal. That was part of Mobius’ plan." Enemies to Lovers. 5+1 format - a little bit of fluff, lots of pining, smut at the end.

[TASM!Peter Parker x F!Reader] 

NEW sugar and vice | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | Epilogue [complete; mob!au] 🌶 ⚔️ ❤️‍🩹

+ The Spotify Playlist

A coffee shop meet cute, but with a Mob!Peter twist.

these violet delights [oneshot; mob!au] ⚔️ ❤️‍🩹 🌒

The Purple Man comes to visit Mob!Peter at home.

🦌 heat of the moment | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 [complete; Groundhog Day AU] ⚔️ ☔️ ❤️‍🩹

Today is the first day of the end of your life. And it keeps happening, over, and over again.

sweet dreams [oneshot] 🌶

You wake up one night with needs. Peter helps you solve them. pwp, no plot at all.

blood-splattered angels [oneshot; assassin!fem!reader] ⚔️ ☔️ 🌘

Spider-Man is kidnapped and held hostage by a mob. And then they make their biggest mistake - sending you the address.

🦌 1 missed call [oneshot] ❤️‍🩹⚔️☔️ 🌘

When Peter listens to a voicemail from you after a fight, the sounds are almost unintelligible and chill him to the bone.

ties that bind [oneshot] ❤️‍🩹 🌘

“You were helpless again. But you were also safe. Vulnerable and protected. Impenetrable and wide open.” Reader ponders the dichotomy of being set free and held captive by Peter's brand of saving. Roommates to lovers, non-graphic depictions of smut.

🦌 dark!peter play series - peter x f!reader cnc character study 🌘🔞☔️🌶

MATURE THEMES/SENSITIVE TOPICS. READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

part one: the devil you know | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 

Your intimate relationship with your boyfriend Peter and your own mental health begin to struggle, sending you into a toxic downward spiral.

part two: inner demons | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

Peter deals with the repercussions of discovering his dark side.

drabbles

"hungry" mob!peter picture blurb ⚔️

🦌 "your secret is safe with me" - workplace rival!peter 1 | 2 🌶 🔞

🦌"picture perfect moment" - groom!Peter on your wedding day 🍬

"sweat" yoga instructor!peter picture blurb 🌶

“…I have another story for him…”

Okay, so I said I had some more fics in the works, and here they are!

Announcing... MIND THE GAP, the Daredevil/Kin crossover idea that I've been sitting on for MONTHS!

When Michael gets sent across the pond to fix an issue with the Kinsella clan's drug trade expansion into New York City, he never expected to meet and fall for a pretty law clerk from the office of Nelson, Murdock, and Page. But when she gets abducted by a rival cartel, Michael will have to enlist the help of the very vigilante that's trying to take down his entire operation.

(Note: This is a Mikey/Reader story, it is very quickly established that there is no love triangle between Mikey, Reader, and Matt.)

And also announcing... A GOOD READ, my super self-indulgent Mikey/Librarian!Reader love story!

Michael is hesitant when Birdy tries to convince him to join A Good Read, the book club she belongs to at the local library. However, that all changes when he meets you, the beautiful, shy librarian who runs it. Problem is, unless you're in your book club meeting, you seem almost afraid of him.

Can Michael convince you to open up and start a new chapter in life with him, or will you close the book on the possibility of a relationship before you even reach the first date?

Thanks so much to @theradioactivespidergwen for suggesting titles for both of these!

If you'd like to be tagged in one or both of these stories, please let me know!

Oh my word. This is so...I am at a loss for words. Just every bit of it perfectly a world of Peter Parker and the family he wanted...longed for...a pie-in-the-sky dream...realized.

And adorable Claire with her own stamp on what it means to be Spider-man...of course there is a red tutu, as if a princess cannot suspend from a ceiling at will. How can one even question that? Next question, doubters?!!

Benjy and being Aunt May's knight at arms. I suspect Benjy would be her most loyal and devoted caretaker. Especially because I can easily picture her slipping him chocolate chip cookies whenever he visits. Benjy and Aunt May vanquishing the haters one piece of chocolate at a time. Who can stand against that? Who would want to? Not me!

But my favorite part of your story is with Peter and Reader. The trust. The love. The 'we are in this together' mindset. That is the gold, the long lasting web of devotion that sways with the winds of change but never ever breaks. You have done it again, author, and my heart thanks you for it.

Trick-Or-Treat (part two) || TASM

Summary: Another Halloween, another year gone by, and more Claire and Benjy to keep Peter entertained. There's never a dull moment in the Parker household. It's a very short read and simple and cute. (read last years Halloween fic here)

A/N: It's been a while since I've written anything. I'll dip my toes in and see how it feels by starting with the cute twins in Peter's life. Special thanks to @tarzinnia for bringing back last years Halloween fic and inspiring me to attempt writing again. Happy Halloween, bitches!

Spider-Man. 

That’s what Claire insisted on being for Halloween. Peter couldn’t help but be proud of her choices. 

“I don’t think there’s a better costume out there,” he boasted to you late one evening. He was sitting at the kitchen table, happily sewing a handmade Spider suit for his daughter. 

“Don’t tell that to Benjy,” you replied. “He’ll be heartbroken to hear you think his Buzz Lightyear costume is subpar.” 

Peter huffed, “Store bought will always be subpar. He wouldn’t even let me hand make it for him.” 

“You didn’t see him when we walked by it at the store. He fell in love. He looked up at me with those big brown eyes and I couldn’t say no to that face. He adores that costume. You’re just playing favorites because Claire chose Spider-Man.” 

Peter smirked, “The kid has great taste, what can I say?” 

You ruffled your husband's mop of messy hair and chuckled, “Just wait until she starts telling people she’s dressed as her dad for Halloween. That smile will be wiped right off your smug face. There’s no faster way to lose your secret identity than to have children. They can’t keep anything secret.” You passed him a red tutu to sew around the waist of the costume. Claire might want to dress like her father’s alternate identity but she still wanted to have the princess vibes she loved. “I think you should add a tutu to your suit. You’d look fabulous.” 

Peter laughed, “I really would, wouldn’t I?” 

“I’ve got to go to bed. The twins drained all my energy today. Please don’t stay up too late working on the costume. You still have plenty of time to get it done.” 

He lifted up his head for a kiss, “I’ll follow you shortly. Just a few more finishing touches…”

Claire’s eyes lit up when she saw her costume. Peter had successfully added the skirt and bedazzled the entire thing to create a sparkling, princess version of Spider-Man. 

“It’s perfect!” She shouted with excitement. “I’m going to look just like you daddy!” 

“Is this what I look like in your eyes? Full of sparkles and absolutely spooktacular?” He held the costume up to her small frame to admire his work. 

“Let’s get you kids dressed! It’s almost time to leave,” you shouted as you bustled into the living room holding Benjy’s costume and a pile of clothes. “Put some warm clothes on Claire under her suit, please, Peter.” You tossed him her thermal sweater and pants. “It’s going to drop down to the 40’s tonight and I don’t want them to catch a cold.” 

You quickly got Benjy into his warm clothes and tugged on his Buzz Lightyear suit while Peter dressed Claire. 

“Are we going to see Auntie May tonight?” Benjy asked. It was no surprise. He asked this just about every single night in the hopes that he’d get to see his favorite person. Tonight was his lucky night. 

You gave him a wink, “She texted me a moment ago and told me she was on her way over.” 

Benjy jumped excitedly around the room before running straight to the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of her walking up to the apartment building, so he could alert the entire family of her arrival. 

You turned around to get a good look at Claire as Peter finished carefully zipping her in. He stood up to marvel at his creation. Tears of love and joy brimmed in his eyes which he quickly tried to wipe away before anyone noticed but you caught them. His love for his children often brought him to tears. You wrapped an arm around his waist and snuggled into his side. 

“You did good,” you whispered to him. “She looks great.” 

“I know everyone says they have the cutest kids but they’re all wrong. Ours win. It’s a good thing they inherited mostly your genes so they could end up this adorable. If they got mine, they might end up looking like haggard monsters,” he joked. 

“Oh, shut up. Benjy is the spitting image of you and he’s the most precious, perfect boy I’ve ever seen.” 

Peter turned to wrap you against his chest. He placed a warm kiss against the top of your head, “We make cute kids. Maybe we should make some more some time soon.”  You quietly gasped under your breath, “Peter Parker. Are you implying what I think you are?”

A sneaky smile tugged at the corner of his lips, “Maybe. The twins are going to start kindergarten next year. They’ll be full time at school. It sounds like a perfect time to bring a new little bug into our lives.” 

“I-” you weren’t sure what to say. “We’d need a bigger place. Three kids in one apartment is not going to work for us. We have been saving up for a house, though…I mean, if we move to the suburbs, you’d have to commute with Spider-Man…my job is done remotely so that won’t matter but you’d have to go back and forth into the city. I was looking into some nice school districts. We’d have to adjust our budget a bit. It could be doable…” 

“Is that a yes?” He asked, cutting through your attempts to mentally plan your entire future. 

You smiled, “It’s a yes.” 

Peter scooped you up into his arms and spun around with a joyful laugh, “We’re going to have another baby!” 

“Alright, alright, put me down! Nothing is set in stone, yet. Let’s try to get through Halloween first.” You took a step away from your husband and glanced around the room. 

Benjy was still patiently waiting at the window for any glimpse of May. Claire was nowhere to be found. 

“Claire?” You called out. “Where’d you run off too? Auntie May will be here soon. We’re going to leave in a minute to Trick or Treat.” 

You walked down the hall and peeked into the bathroom. Nothing. You poked your head into the twins shared bedroom. Nothing. 

“Claire?” You called out again. 

“In here!” She shouted from inside your bedroom. 

You pushed open the door and your jaw dropped at the sight occurring before your horrified eyes. 

“Look, momma!” Claire sang. “I’m daddy!”

Your daughter, in her sparkling Spider suit, was stuck halfway up the wall. She crawled up to the ceiling with nothing but her finger tips and the toes of her red converse. 

“Peter!” You shouted, not able to take your eyes off her. As she reached the ceiling, she smoothly made the upside down transition until she was crawling directly over your head. 

Peter showed up at your side. It took him a second to find the source of your stunned silence. When his eyes slowly looked up, his mouth fell open to mimic your own. 

“Holy shit,” he whispered. 

“That’s a bad word, daddy!” Claire chastised him from above his head. “Catch me!” 

Without a word, Peter snatched her from the air as she gracefully unstuck herself from the ceiling. She giggled at the action as if crawling up walls and leaping into her father’s arms from above was an everyday occurrence for her. 

“I’m Spider-Man just like you,” she hummed happily, not old enough to fully grasp the weight of what she was saying or what she’d just done. 

You and Peter exchanged terrified looks with each other. A shocked silence had stolen any attempts at forming words from your mouths as you both desperately tried to comprehend what you’d just witnessed.

“Uh huh…yeah, sweetie…just like me…” Peter managed to squeak out. 

“Auntie May’s here!” Benjy squealed from the other room. 

Claire squirmed out of her father’s protectful grasp to run towards her brother, both brimming with excitement to let May into their home. 

Neither you nor Peter could move. 

“Did that just…” your question trailed off. 

Peter nodded, “Yeah. Yes, it did.” 

You took a long, shuddered breath, “Okay. That’s okay. That’s fine. Everything is fine. We just…have…a daughter with abilities…no big deal…not a problem at all…everything is great…” 

Peter tugged you to his side, sensing you were about to start spiraling if he didn’t put a stop to it, “It is fine. I’ve been through this before. I can handle this again. She seems like she’s handling this better than I was at 16. She’s a natural at it! It’s totally, 100% fine and not at all terrifying.” Peter was always a terrible liar. “It appears she may have inherited more of my genes than I initially thought and that is okay. She’s really embodying the spirit of that Halloween costume isn’t she?” He gave a breathless chuckle. 

You shot him a stern look at his poor attempt at a joke, “Seriously?” 

He shrugged with a guilty expression etched onto his face, “They don’t write a parents handbook for this kind of thing.” 

“Our preschooler can crawl up walls! Her teachers are going to hate us, oh god. What are we going to do?” 

The buzzer rang, alerting everyone of May’s presence at the door. 

Peter glanced towards the sound, “Right now, we are going to let May in and then we are going to take the kids out Trick or Treating. We are going to have a fun night watching them run around and collect candy. They are going to be kids and enjoy their Halloween. Then we will come home, let them go crazy with sugar, then attempt to get them to bed. Afterwards, you and I will start on our endeavor to make baby number three. And then…tomorrow, we can figure this out more. But, tonight, tonight is for us.” 

You gave a slow nod, allowing his words to comfort you, repeating his mantra, “Tonight is for us. Tomorrow is for worrying.” 

Peter gave you a warm smile and a quick kiss, “Worry tomorrow, have fun tonight. This a problem for future us. Present us needs to only worry about how much candy we can fit into those kids’ pumpkin buckets.”

A smile grew over your face as some of the fear dissipated. Not all of it. You were always going to fear for the future of your children but Peter was always going to be there to help smooth out those worries. 

“If it’s Trick or Treat, Claire definitely chose ‘trick’ this year.” 

Peter laughed, “And Benjy will always choose ‘treat’. That will be one thing that never changes. The boy loves chocolate! Let’s go let May in before the kids break down the door. Come on, my son needs sugar and my daughter needs an exorcism. A perfect Halloween combination!”

The End :)

The last two months have been anything but pleasant. I could use some sweet seductive salvation in the form of this literary infusion. Directly into my veins, please. Can't wait.

No, for real. It’s coming this week.

Thank you so much for responding! Yes, yes, and yes on the adorable and the feel good vibes. You are so talented a writer at both the extreme emotional-tragic-dark-heart hurt fictions AND the softer, kinder, head-over-heels stories. Sometimes I am fragile enough that the latter is just what I need to keep the light of hope burning inside so thank you for that.

A sequel? I'd like to know more, a lot more, of the bookstore romance from the moodboard story, Echo Your Name. Has the owner any secrets beyond thinking Peter is captivating, quiet, and handsome? Was the store started by the owner? An inheritance from a family member? A collector of unwanted unloved tomes that need loving homes? What's going on in Peter's head as he runs his fingers along the spines? Is he imagining the owner's skin under his fingers? Tell me more, please?

Ooooooh that's one I haven't thought of in a long time and I love it!

Echo Your Name

I was imagining a family owned book store that has a small town feel to it and is full of used books. Maybe it's been in her family for a few generations. They're trying to stay afloat in today's world where the internet has taken over and less and less people are searching for physical books. Which is why she probably gets in trouble for giving Peter so many discounts.

The first day Peter went in there was to find a specific sci-fi book that he's been searching for. I always headcanon him to be a thrifter type person and always go for the used options over brand new. So, naturally, he'd seek out a used bookstore to find what he's looking for. The first time he went in was for a book. Every other time he's walked in, it's always to see if she's working and to "browse" the books, picking things at random, just so he can talk to her. And even though he's picking books out without much thought, he does read them all! He wants to widen his book knowledge so he can get closer to her, thinking that it'll impress her.

I also like to think that there's a small coffee shop attached to the bookstore. It's probably where they actually get most of their business. Grab a book, buy a coffee and pastry, and curl up on a comfy couch for an hour or so to enjoy. That's where they would have their first date. They would talk books and Peter would ask a million questions about her life and the bookstore. Any time she'd try to ask questions about him, he'd flip it on back to her, always being the secretive type. It would become a weekend tradition for them. Sometimes they would just read quietly side by side, other times they would talk for hours, occasionally he'd help her organize the books and clean up.

The most adorable and soft "fall in love at a bookstore" vibes ever.

Side Note

These are some pics from my favorite independent bookstore that is located in an old mill building that I used to go to all the time when I was a teenager:

Those are very similar vibes to what I was imagining. Old wooden floors, beat up chairs and benches, used books everywhere, big windows, little coffee shop to sit and chat

๑ˊૢᵕˋૢ๑

summary: Peter always known you had a wide variety of music, but only heard the soft music. Until one day he heard music he never thought you’d listen to

Content tags: fluff, light swearing, implied violence, implied sexual acts, slight teasing

tasm!Peter Parker xgn!reader

๑ˊૢᵕˋૢ๑

(real ones know these songs)

——————————————————————————-

Peter was out patrolling early morning, and you were home wondering what to do to kill time. you were currently listening to music, the soft indie music. You were vibing to them until you kept playing the other playlists in your library that were collecting dust

Kept skipping playlists until you stopped at one playlist you didn’t think you’d ever come back to. Something in you sparked up.

it got you up on your feet and straight to the speaker to connect.

beep!

connected

“ignore the hate, ignore the fake, ignore the funny shit, cause if * violate, we got hunnid clips”

you’ve always been a fan of this music but things change, eventually you came back to the music you swore you’d never listen to again

you were singing and shouting, and dancing to the music

all the hype got you cleaning yours and Peter’s shared bedroom

“These bitches love sosa! O end or no end!”

the music really helped you stay on task with the house hold chores

“just got some top from a stripper bitch, she from Kankakee”

at this point you now drifted to the kitchen to clean all while the music still played out

“I’m out here in Miami! Looking for the hoochie daddy’s!”

while the commotion was going on, you heard the keys jingle and you quickly went to the room to turn off the music before peter could fully hear the music and the lyrics.

He opened the door and you stood there out of breath and smiling

He gave you a confused smile

“why are you out of breath?” He laughed

“oh um.. I’ve been cleaning! you know me”

he laughed and brushed off the odd event

you love Peter really, but him knowing you like rap music kind of cringes you, since you both made fun of it often. So him knowing you like it too, he’ll tease you.

the next day

Peter left for work and you again were left at home on your day off

you turned on the speaker, and played your current favorite playlist, and got to cleaning

“Triple homicide, put me in a chair, yeah!”

and this is how you cleaning

bathroom, “she wanna go viral! Keep fuckin’ for hours! That pussy got power! That pussy got power!”

bedroom, “riding through New York, finna go shoot up New Jersey!…. We gon come and blow New Jersey up”

living room, “ I gotta * that fuck me so great! Whenever he wanna eat it, I just put it in his face!”

while singing, you were trying to remember why you stopped listening to this music.

it was character development in all honesty

you were so into the cleaning you didn’t hear the door open.

“Know a little freak in Hollywood, sucks on dick, does it real good!”

as you were rapping these lyrics, dancing, you turned around and met with your boyfriend who had wide eyes at your explicit language and the music choice you chose

you froze and widen your eyes that you were finally caught and you couldn’t deny the truth. You’re heart beating due to the combination of singing, dancing and cleaning.

you grabbed your phone and pressed pause

“who am I dating?” He said in sarcastic disbelief

“awh noo, I didn’t want you to see me like this!” You exclaimed

you were embarrassed, like genuinely

“why?”

“Cmon Pete, aren’t you surprised?”

he paused

“yeah actually, I never knew you listened to this music” he said with a hint of disgust

“well I don’t but I have been recently… I used to like rap music years back but I stopped” you admitted

“and I missed it, this music really gets you pumping and full of energy”

he admired your truthfulness, but still wasn’t convinced this was you

“you keep looking at me as if I’m lying to you” you said

he laughed, “can I be honest, I want to believe you that you like this music but .. I just can’t” he said between giggles

“stop Peter I’m serious, I do like this music”

“right…”

“look click any song from here and I can sing with ease, I swear”

he was skeptical but he did anyway. He intently looked at the titles and see if he can loophole and find a song you don’t know… he was wrong

“ah okay this one!”

he played “X” by 21 savage

you proved him wrong, you do know this song

the song only started a few seconds and you told him the name of it and he stood there in shock

“woah”

“I told you”

a few moments of silence and he started dying of laughter

you knew he wouldn’t let this live down

but now you listen to that music and he has to listen

he would be lying if he didn’t find himself singing along and bumping his head.. but he wouldn’t admit that… ever

๑ˊૢᵕˋૢ๑

i need part 5 now

Pen pals - p. parker (part four)

pairing; TASM! peter parker x fem! reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peter’s question earns an annoyed glare from May.

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

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

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

May nudges him. “Your girl’s here.”

And there you were.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“May’s waiting for us,” Peter smiles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You frown.

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

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

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

“Peter,” You sigh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~

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

Ugh.

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

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

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

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

“I can if you want me to.”

You nod, “Can you?”

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

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

You were so fucked.

~

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

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

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

Wait.

That can’t be right.

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

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

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

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

— read about me and find my masterlist here :3