Tom!peter X Reader - Tumblr Posts
please, call me peter
DATE: JANUARY 6, 2023
summary: you haven’t been able to come with anyone besides yourself, making you think something’s wrong with you. once you go to the gynecologist, dr. parker shows you that you’re just fine.
request: yes yes
words: 3.4k
warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [fingering], small praise kink, dirty talking), and a cute ending.
note: shooting out requests like webs. sorry that was lame. if this makes you uncomfortable, do not read.
gynecologist!peter x female!reader
—
Your eyes scan the white room while you sit impatiently. Your heart lightly thuds in your chest and your fingers drum rapidly along your clothed thigh. The nurse had asked if you wanted to change into a hospital gown, which you politely denied. She gave you an indifferent expression before walking out, leaving you here.
You were at the gynecologist for one concerning reason; every time you had sex, you couldn’t come. Your previous relationship ended because you were unable to reach that euphoric high, which you believed was a ridiculous reason to leave someone. You weren’t as sad as you thought you’d be because you were too concerned with your own well-being to dwell on some bloke.
Before heading to the doctor, you had a quick hook-up, assuming that you and your ex just weren’t sexually compatible. But then you were proved wrong when you didn’t come. Again. You weren’t really the hook-up type, in fear of catching some unwanted disease or infection. Finally, you took matters into your own hands, literally, and masturbated with your fingers until you orgasmed all over your bed sheets.
See? It wasn’t impossible.
Then why couldn’t you come with other people? It had to be your fault. It had to be.
So, again, you were left here in the small hospital room sitting between empty stirrups with your ankles tightly crossed. The widening of the wooden door alerted you, your eyes shooting towards the man entering the room.
A guy? Your gynecologist was a guy?
You knew you were a decently healthy person because you were always on track with your appointments, even small check-ups. Because of your good wellness, you had never needed to go to the gyno. Until now, which seemed a bit nerve-racking all of a sudden.
The second the doctor turned around, you knew exactly why.
Warm, brown eyes peer at you with tenderness. Chestnut curls rest upon his head a little messily, but in the cutest way. He wore a professional lab coat over his casual clothing. His ribbed shirt and blue jeans seemed to match him perfectly. His cheeks appear a tinge pink when he smiles, welcoming and greeting you.
Oh shit.
“I’m Dr. Parker, and you are?” Dr. Parker asks as he plops onto his spinny chair. His eyes stare deeply into yours, causing your heart to race more than you’d like to admit. His voice was as attractive as his face, and you tried to convince yourself that he had to have at least one bad quality that you just haven’t seen yet, so you didn’t soak your panties.
“Y/N,” You blink to wash away the feeling of your nerves as your palms get clammy. “but you probably knew that already.”
“That is true, but I like for my patients to introduce themselves to me directly,” He states simply and you nod in response. Your sweaty hands interlocked over your thighs to ease yourself.
“So, what brings you in here today, Y/N?” Dr. Parker questions with a lick of his lips. He can’t help himself when his eyes drift nonchalantly, but quickly down your body. You were beautiful, which made it hard to concentrate on anything else, especially when you started talking. Your voice was silky, and he wanted to ask you more questions just so he could hear it more.
“I…” You were a bit embarrassed to share your reasoning. Was it common? Will he laugh at you? No, of course not, he’s a doctor! You battled with yourself in your head before spitting it out. “I can’t come during sex.”
Your jaw clenched as your hand practically hit your forehead in embarrassment. You couldn’t look at him because he was probably holding back a laugh. But you also couldn’t look at him because he was so handsome you might melt.
True be told, Peter already knew why you were here. He read the small report the nurse got before he entered. It was part of protocol and he wanted to hear you describe it yourself.
“That’s okay, darling. Nothing to be ashamed of,” He reassures gently as you remove your hand from your face. He smiles sincerely and you smile bashfully back. The nickname erupts butterflies in your stomach, and you can’t disregard the small wetness you feel trickle in your underwear.
When he asks, you go on to explain your situation in detail, even including the part about your ex-boyfriend dumping you. When Peter hears this, his jaw subtly clenches as irritation spreads through him.
Who breaks up with someone for that? He wanted to ask, but knew that was probably inappropriate. He does need to question you professionally though to ensure there’s nothing wrong. However, he thinks he already knows the answer.
“I’m going to ask you some questions that get pretty personal,” Parker faces his notes with you in the corner of his eye. You nod as your nervousness never fades and your heart beat remains quite fast.
Most of his questions were simple and straightforward, so you weren’t too ashamed to answer.
“Do you have any pain?”
“No.”
“Are you on birth control?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Two years,” You eyes strayed away from him, thumbs twiddling in your lap like an anxious child. He wonders how you got birth control without going to the gynecologist in the past, seeming as though you’ve had no history.
However, some questions made the heat rise to your cheeks. Your arousal worsened the more Dr. Parker spoke, his voice warm and soothing like honey.
“To clarify, you have orgasmed before, correct?” Peter was able to focus when his eyes were glued to his papers, but one glance at your adorable shyness and his cock was semi-hard in his boxers.
“Yes, I-I did it myself,” You hissed at yourself for stuttering. He made you so starstruck it was hard to form words. You didn’t meet many people like that in your life— now that you think of it, none at all. He surveys you for a moment you think was a little too long, and you tighten your ankles together at his burning gaze.
“Um,” He grunts, covering it up with a cough as his cheeks turn pink a tad more. Your lip subtly curls into a smile at his cuteness. Peter was nervous for the first time in a while, fingers shaking as he scribbled notes about you. He felt as silly as a child who had a crush on a classmate. “you seem very well.”
“So nothing’s wrong?” Your eyebrows crinkle in confusion, a lost expression cascading over your face when you feel like you’ve hit a dead end. You gaze at the floor, trying to understand.
“Not directly,” He says to reassure you. Your eyes meet his with a head tilt. Now, you were really confused.
“What do I do then?”
“Don’t have sex with idiots,” He grumbles, honestly hoping you didn’t hear it. But of course you did. Your heart rate quickens wildly in your chest at his blunt statement. “but to make sure, I’m going to check you, okay?”
Your eyes widen for a moment, not thinking you would have to be checked. Your thoughts immediately shoot to your soaked panties and how he’ll see your very visual arousal. Hopefully, he assumes it’s from nerves.
“Would you like to change into something more comfortable and accessible?” He asks, looking at your shirt with jean shorts. He checks most of his patients, so usually they would have been in a gown already. But at this hospital, the patient didn’t have to change, even though it was highly recommended. However, when they rarely denied the new wardrobe, the doctor had to undress the patient themselves. So far in Peter’s career, he’s only had to do that with incidents that were an emergency.
“No, thank you,” You answered with no explanation. Secretly, you hated the material of the gown and you swore it gave you rashes. Maybe you were allergic?
Dr. Parker nods once and turns to his little side table beside you. He slips on his blue gloves and tells you exactly what he’s going to do, so you’re not unprepared.
“And since you’re not in a gown, the protocol is that I must undress you myself,” Peter feels the burning red flame up his cheeks at his statement. Your eyes widen again at the image of the sensual action, but nod in understanding.
Who made that rule? You wanted to ask, but it seemed disrespectful. You honestly couldn’t tell if you loved or hated the person that invented that idea. Picturing Dr. Parker strip you only made a pool in your panties.
Peter’s gloved fingers unbutton and zip down your jean shorts with your permission. It was slow and steady, unlike your heart that was bouncing off the walls of your ribs. You know he could see your heavy breathing as your stomach rose up and down too quickly under the thin material of your shirt.
Your shorts were removed and then he was on to your underwear.
Peter’s cock pulsed in his jeans at the wet patch on your panties, his red blush never fading. He wanted to press the pad of his thumb against your throbbing clit. He would rub you over the flimsy fabric and then make you moan for him as he fucked you roughly with his fingers. He could assume that you were tight and tense because of your struggle to orgasm with another person, but the thought only made his cock twitch needily as he imagined you squeezing around him.
“Are you okay so far? And can I remove these?” He asks for consent and patiently waits. You nod, but he’s not having that. “Words, Y/N. I need you to say it.”
His demand caused you to clench around nothing as you stutter out a trembling yes, so he can proceed. Peter delicately removes your panties, sliding them down your supple legs and placing them with your shorts. You didn’t open your legs, but you knew he’d already seen the wetness leaking out of you.
“Okay, um,” His professionalism was fading from him. He wanted to devour you because you probably tasted amazing. The smell of your arousal filled his nostrils, making it hard to focus on anything. “Put your legs on these stirrups. I’ll help you.”
He guides your legs into the holders, strongly resisting the urge to gawk at your vulnerable area. Once you were settled, he looked down and nearly came right there. Arousal drowned your folds as your puffy clit poked out behind it all. He noticed the fluttering of your folds as the cold air hit your wetness. He wouldn’t need to use any lube on you for sure. Peter was losing his cool and was about to lose everything if he did not pull himself together.
“I’m about to start. Are you okay?” He could sense your nervousness from a mile away. He wanted to make sure you were okay, even if you’ve had sex multiple times before.
“Yes, doctor,” You reassure and his jaw subtly locks at his label leaving from your mouth. He avoids picturing his falling from your pretty lips, so he could focus on the task at hand. You didn’t notice, too caught up in your own thoughts of his fingers entering you. You wanted him to pound them into you mercilessly because you know he’d know all the right spots and special places to hit. You can imagine he’s soft and caring, and always gives immense pleasure to the woman.
You almost gasp aloud when you come to a realization; he probably has a girlfriend. Or a wife. A wife and kids. You don’t remember seeing a ring, but that doesn’t mean anything. Oh, God, you were daydreaming sexual thoughts about your gynecologist who would probably freak out if he could hear them.
“If it makes you more comfortable, my name is Peter. Sometimes that small detail helps the patients relax more,” He noticed your sudden panicked state and high tension in your legs, wanting to calm you down, so it doesn’t hurt. It was perfectly fine to be nervous, but it wasn’t fine for him to be this nervous. He’s a professional doctor, yet he’s thinking about ruining it all just to please you at this moment.
You feel the latex gloves graze your folds, making your heart jump up into your throat. Peter’s middle finger practically teases your entrance, and you hold back pathetic whimpers. Once he slips his middle finger inside, you release a shuddery moan. His finger stills, deep inside of you while he gives you a second to adjust.
“Relax for me,” You try not to clench around him, but you’re a lost cause when he begins to wiggle it around the tight space. Peter is struggling. His cock is about to burst at the seams while his middle finger sinks far inside you. Your clenching walls and hushed noises nearly make him moan. He sees you resisting the urge to moan and it’s killing him because he wants to hear you.
“You can moan,” Peter says, voice low and sultry. “It’s welcomed.” He curls his finger and slowly pushes in and out. You don’t hold back your moan this time as lust begins to fill your vision. It feels too good, even though you know it’s wrong. You feel yourself getting wetter and wetter at his skilled finger and his concentrated expression.
Peter is positive you’re enjoying this. He can’t resist you anymore when he has you spread open for him. Plus, he found nothing peculiar inside, you seemed healthy. He could stop now if he’d like, but the contraction of your pussy walls around his finger and the sweet whimpers you’re eliciting spur him to continue.
“How does this feel, Y/N?” Peter’s voice was gravelly and lustful; you were sure to catch on by now. His question was borderline professional, yet inappropriate. At this point, Peter couldn’t care less because your face said it all.
“Good, really good,” You admitted with fluttering eyes as your hands gripped the sides of your shirt. Your name out of his mouth made you melt into his touch as you instinctively grinded your hips into his hand.
“What about this?” His ring finger slides in effortlessly, and they both curl inside you. You gasp, eliciting another shaky moan. His digits were thick and just the right length to satisfy you without even needing his cock, even though you wanted it. “God, you’re so tight. Imagine what you’d feel like around my cock.” He grumbles.
You gasp at his sudden profound language, but the dirtiness only made you more aroused. Your brain imagined how his cock would look buried so deep inside of you that you’d feel him in your stomach. You imagine this pre-cum leaking from his tip as he pulls out of you just to slam back in. Your core tensed at the thought.
“I didn’t hear you, Y/N,” He grunts gravelly, slowing his movements. He slips his fingers out, removing the glove swiftly. You whine at the emptiness, answering him. He was so sweet, yet dirty, and you loved it.
“So good! It feels so good, please don’t stop,” You plead and he smirks in satisfaction as he continues. His thumb rolls over your puffy clit, making your hips press into his hand as he slips back in. Your thighs contracted as they begged to close, but the locked stirrups blocked you from doing so.
“Who’s making you feel this good?” His tone was smooth and clear, almost contradicting his sinful actions. His pace becomes brutal, ramming in and out of you with no mercy. The rough texture of his bare hand sends a shiver up your spine as your orgasm nears.
“You! You, Peter,” Your chest heaves as choked moans leave your lips. His digits rub your throbbing nerves as his fingers glide against your walls addictingly good. Your fingernails dig into the soft flesh of your trembling thighs. His lips raise in another smirk as his cheeks flush that familiar pink. “I’m close, Peter,” You whimper, causing him to hiss at the harsh pulsing of his shaft when his name falls delicately from your lips just how he imagined.
“I know, honey. Can feel you clenching around me,” He groans when you release another noise of pleasure. His eyes wander down to your aching cunt as his fingers become drenched in your juices. You’re squeezing him torturously, on the edge of your break.
“Are you gonna come? Gonna come for me?”
Without another moment, your orgasm ripples through your body with a blissful wail. Clenched muscles and screwed eyes don’t even express the full ecstasy you feel. White liquid saturates Peter’s bare fingers before he licks them clean. It wasn’t the most sanitary, but he didn’t give one fuck.
Your face screams fucked out; perspired skin, droopy eyes, and a weary smile. In his ideal situation, he would have devoured you until you couldn’t take it anymore. But that was for another time. If there ever was another time, which he hoped there would be.
Just maybe not in a hospital.
“Well, Y/N, it seems like you are very healthy,” Peter grins, taking the tissues to clean you thoroughly. You can feel the heat radiating from your cheeks at his joking comment.
“Thanks, doctor,” Your voice came out a bit squeaky while your heart continued to stammer in your chest.
“After that, I think you should call me Peter,” He chuckles, sliding away in his stool to discard the tissues. Heat burns your skin from his adorable laugh.
“Peter it is then,” He helps you down the stirrups and you begin to get dressed with a goofy smile curling on your face. Peter doesn’t fail to notice this as his thoughts begin to wander. He knows he just met you, but he wants to see where this goes. He is confident that you’re interested in him (at least enough for him to finger you), so maybe asking you out isn’t the crazy idea he’s ever had.
“Y/N?” Suddenly, he didn’t feel so confident.
“Yeah?” Your response was breathless.
“Would you, um,” Peter hesitated to find the words. He really was like a little kid talking to his crush for the first time. “like to go out sometime? Maybe?”
You admire his bashfulness. He anxiously rolls up his coat sleeves while his face displaces a rosy blush. His brown eyes twinkled with hope as he waited for a reply.
“I would like that, doctor,” You smile genuinely and sweetly, your joyful energy calming his pent-up nerves. “I mean Peter.” You giggle when he blushes.
“Okay, okay, this is great. Here’s my number,” Peter scribbles messily on a small sheet of note paper, handing it to you. It was adorable how nervous he was for being a well-respected doctor who waltzed in with a sweet kind of confidence. You were giddy as well, but you were way better at hiding it clearly. You snatch the sheet with your fingers, tucking it away in your palm.
“Do you do this with all your patients, Dr. Parker?” You tease with a quirked eyebrow and a pointed finger at his chest. Peter huffs out a chuckle while clicking his tongue.
“Only the most beautiful ones,” He gently lifts your finger, kissing it gently before striding out of the room. Peter doesn’t forget to leave an arrogant wink as the heavy, wooden door closes abruptly.
Maybe being a doctor does make him arrogant. Sometimes.
You stand frozen, starstruck. Your breathing was back to heaving again because he left you breathless. And speechless. You jokingly wondered for a minute if you would die from a heart attack, due to the rapid thumping of a stupid organ against your ribs. Curious, you open your palm and unfold the slip of paper he wrote hastingly. Glancing past the number, you notice the small words underneath.
Please, call me Peter.
—
yesss tell me what you think :)
Peter Parker p links!
⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡
18+ minors do not interact or click the links! Each link contains porn. All links are from twitter. You must be logged into Twitter for the links to open!
Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!
⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡
— Tobey!Peter
blindfolding you to keep his identity secret
Peter filling your pussy up after you’ve begged for it all day
cozy evening fucking
jerking off bigdick!Peter
riding his face
⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡
— Andrew!Peter
showing Peter your tongue trick
Peter loves his alt girlfriend
first time trying anal together
making sure he breeds your little pussy
him cumming all over your body
⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡
— Tom!Peter
playing with your sensitive pussy
movie night at Peter’s place
getting pounded in the bathroom
sucking him off while he games
Peter using your pussy to let out some pent up anger
⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡
@alanangels @laughingphantoms @lyd14-d33tz @imnotmanu @fandoms-are-my-hOme @avatarobsessedgirly @jul-es @swagskeletongiantdreamer @someblessedmonster @spideyswebz @tpwknjj @ansaturn @ariharlow17 @mikisworls @abzyisinsane @yoyo4544 @peterisinapickle @jypiecesgf @jade-is-jaded @lovelymax10 @cindrness @cece969 @xcallmewhatevrrx
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.”