Three Months

no but rlly where's my new year's kiss from peter??? >:(

your new years kiss with mcu peter parker

word count: 0.3k

warnings: fluff fluff fluff

author's note: i knooooooow. it's been a hot minute since i've posted something new. i've been sick and in a slump and not in the greatest mood to write. but my inspiration is definitely there. but hey! new year. i hope i can get more work out for you all this year. anyway, hope you enjoy this short headcanon, happy new years!

peter parker masterlist | tiktok version

the two of you would be standing around with the rest of your friends and family

sparkling non-alcoholic drinks in hand and racing hearts beneath your clothes

you both had this underlying feeling for the past couple of weeks that either of you was finally going to make a move

now that it was new year’s eve, notoriously known for loved ones to share a kiss, the anticipation was killing you and peter

“crazy, huh,” you decide to speak up and gaze over at him

him in his simple geeky graphic tee that seemed a bit tighter than usual and his straight jeans

such a basic outfit of his yet it never failed to make you swoon

the excessive new year’s eve accessories around his neck and on his head brought a smile to your face

when he looks back to find you smiling at him, he couldn’t help but feel flustered

he exhales briefly and nods, “yep. definitely. couple of minutes left, right?”

the two of you make eye contact after checking the time and laugh at your synchronization

“yeah, ready?” you respond and hold up your glass

“actually, uhm. may i?” he asks and holds out his hand toward your glass

there’s about a minute left on the clock

“oh? sure, i guess,” you hand it to him, genuinely confused as to why he wanted your glass

until he answered your curiosity as he placed yours and his drink down

“c-can i kiss you? when the ball drops?” he manages to get the bold request out of his system as he motions to the tv

your eyes widen at his question and sudden change of demeanor

you feel your blood rush to your cheeks almost instantly and your stomach twist with excitement

you nod slowly, subconsciously taking a step toward him. “yes…”

“yes? as in yes, i can kiss you in literally thirty seconds?” he blurts out and places his hands on your waist

you let out a soft laugh that sounds like music to his ears and nod once again. “yes, stupid,” you murmur and wrap your arms around his neck

three

two

he gazes into your eyes before the ball drops and pulls you in close all while gently pressing his lips against yours

one

you smile into the kiss and deepen it, already more than happy with how your year started

thanks for reading, let me know what you think! tagging some mutuals :) @darlingholland @ms-misery @petershbw @ptersmj @keisdove @petersgroupie @selfcarecap @toms-gf @greenorangevioletgrass @616films @peterpparkerwrites @lovers-liability @saturnpeter @celestialholland @parkerpeter24 @vendettaparker @devotion @peterbenjiparker @lilbeatlebear @ellebutnotwoods @dhtomholland @rileybinaa @reawritesthings @bi-lmg07 @supremethunda @harry-hollands @the-girl-in-the-chair

i can’t wait to experience another spidey movie in theaters again :’)

Sticky Affair [p.p]

pairing: Peter Parker x reader

summary/request: could you write something where pete comforts the reader after her bf cheated on her 🥺 (if you’re comfortable with that!) and the she realises there might be more than just friendship with peter? 👀

warnings: cheating, mentions of sex, let me know if i missed something?? wyekshshsg, they don’t (yet) get together in the end but there might be some feelings yk, this is literally just him comforting her, lol i definitely focussed on the first part of the request

word count: 2.4k

thank you so much @ Sparkles for the [amazing + spider-man themed :) ] title <3

A Week Ago

You’re still around the corner from Ned’s room, listening to the conversation while you take off your shoes and your coat.

“I’m glad she’s alone today. Max is so disgusting and mean and manipulative and she doesn’t even see it,” Ned rants. You don’t think he’s aware that you can hear him loud and clear.

“We don’t know what goes on behind closed doors,” Peter says, “she knows what she’s doing.”

“Don’t act like you weren’t talking shit about him the other day,” Ned scoffs.

“Honestly I think it’s all just pheromones. He’s an athlete, he sweats a lot,” MJ says and you can hear the humor in her voice as she goes on to complain about straight relationships.

“Hey. Who’re you guys talking about?” You ask as you finally join them.

“Oh um um,” Ned starts, looking at Peter with wide eyes.

“Just my cousin’s new boyfriend,” MJ shrugs.

Peter smiles at you but there’s guilt in his eyes. You know they were talking about you and Max.

At least Peter was trying to defend you. You huff as you sit down. And they still wonder why you don’t hang out with them that much anymore - it’s not the first time you’ve caught them talking about your relationship behind your back.

But they’re still your friends after all, and after a few more minutes you know why you love them so much. And while they should learn to mind their own business sometimes, you wouldn’t want to lose any of them.

Today

You accept the humiliation with slumped shoulders and hot tears in your eyes as you send the message to the group chat, asking who’s home and if you can come over.

Peter answers within ten seconds, telling you you can come to his place.

Your eyes now red, mascara smudged and in need of a tissue and maybe some nose spray, you show up at Peter’s door.

Peter has been your best friend for years, and you’ve seen him at his lowest as well, but you still feel embarrassed when the tears just won’t stop flowing. Concern written all over his face, he lets you in immediately.

“He… he…” you try to explain but you can’t talk with the massive lump in your throat. Peter has his arms wrapped around you in seconds, and with your face pressed against your shoulder you finally let out the sobs.

“He cheated on me,” you whisper after a few minutes when your breathing has calmed down.

Peter feels his chest tighten. He wants to cry. How could anyone do that to you? You’re the last person on earth who deserves to be cheated on.

May comes in while you’re still standing in the hallway and before you even realise she’s there, Peter softly tells her, “Not now, May.”

You lift your head at the mention of her name, and say “Hi.”

“Oh sweetheart, what happened?”

All you can do is shake your head and bury your face back into Peter’s soft hoodie.

“You want to go to my room?” Peter asks, and with your hand in his you go there, but you smile at May, knowing she’s there for you too if you need her.

You sit down on Peter’s bed where he joins you. “Sorry,” you rub your eyes and try to clear your vision from all the tears, “I don’t want to ruin your night.”

“You’re not ruining my night. I’m here for you,” he breathes, hand on your back.

He passes you a tissue and lets you sniffle and cry until you’re calm again.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

You nod, but as you take a deep breath to start your sentence a sob is caught in your throat. You look at Peter, at your best friend, but even he can’t help you as tears pool in your eyes again. He wraps his arms around you nevertheless and holds your hand; he feels bad that it’s all he can give you at the moment but you truly don’t know what you’d do without him.

After a few more minutes of crying and clinging on to Peter for dear life, you hear a sniffle that isn’t yours.

You turn your head to see a tear travelling down Peter’s face which he quickly wipes away when he notices you looking, “Sorry it’s just- I hate seeing you like this. I hate that he did this to you.”

For the first time in hours, you smile, remembering how much Peter loves you. You squeeze his hand that had gotten sweaty from holding yours so long and let go of him.

“Um…” you clear your throat to test if you have your voice back yet.

“It’s okay if you’re not ready to talk yet,” he says, “Do you want some water?”

You nod and he hands you a water bottle from next to his bed. You drink nearly all of it and you already feel a tiny bit better. “Let me clean this mess on my face,” you say and go to the bathroom to wash your face.

The fresh water feels good against your skin, and God knows your body needs all the hydration it can get after bawling your eyes out for so long.

When you’ve washed away the remnants of your makeup, your eyes are still red and puffy, but you feel a little fresher. You go back to Peter’s room where he’s got more water and tissues ready as well as some cozy pyjamas you always used to leave here for sleepovers. You haven’t had one of those in months and there’s a foreign but pleasant feeling in your tummy when you think of spending all day and night with Peter, sleeping in the same bed, all cuddled up…. you’re probably just all over the place from your break up though. Peter is your friend. Nothing more.

Peter doesn’t force you to tell him anything, but you figure the sooner you get it out and talk about it, the better.

With surprising ease, you just let it all out while Peter intently listens.

“So I was going to go to visit Max today at four, but I was already in his area to go shopping half an hour earlier and it wouldn’t have made sense to go back home only to come back a few minutes later. Then I went to his and I would’ve just waited outside but the front door was open and I went up to his apartment.

“Just as I reached his floor, I saw this woman. They were saying goodbye to each other and he’d told me that he had family over a few days ago so I thought…” you laugh at yourself, “God I was so stupid. I thought maybe she was his cousin, someone from his family for sure. But his eyes went wide when he saw me and this woman immediately asked who I was. So I said I was his girlfriend. And I asked who she was. She said she was his girlfriend.”

“God. That’s fucking horrible,” Peter says, and it’s like you can already see him plotting to kill your boy-- ex-boyfriend.

“Then he tried to explain himself but there wasn’t anything he could have said to save himself or make the situation any better. So me and his other girlfriend- ex girlfriend now- we both left and then I came here.”

“Wow. I can’t believe it,” He brushes a hand through his hair in frustration and blows out some air. Peter doesn’t know what to do with himself. You can tell he’s angry, his cheeks red, and he has every right to be. You’d be livid if someone hurt your best friend like that.

But he’s trying to contain himself in front of you, to keep his composure because you were already upset enough for the both of you for the last hour and you’ve just calmed down, so he doesn’t want your anger to resurge because of him.

“The worst thing is,” you continue, “He didn’t even just kiss someone else or sleep with someone else. He had a whole second relationship. Maybe there are even more, who knows. Maybe she was first, and I was the second relationship…”

Peter’s scared he won’t be able to stop once he starts talking, so he remains silent, merely shaking his head at your words.

Then you remember something. “I’m so stupid... I lost it to him. I was so sure I could trust him and that he was the right guy to have my first time with.” You look down and play with your fingers in your lap.

You didn’t want Peter to find out like this.

You never told him about having sex with Max but it never felt like there was a right moment. Talking about Max to Peter about any aspect of your relationship was weird and you avoided talking about him most times you hung out with your best friend. It never made sense to you, but it felt like you were supposed to hide Max from Peter. It felt like you were cheating on Peter by having a boyfriend, when he has never been more than your best friend.

But you’re glad that Peter reacts the way he does.

“Virginity is a social construct,” he says, immediately getting what you’re talking about, “You didn’t lose anything to him. His dick’s not important enough to change who you are.”

You smile. You taught him that. “I know. I’m just... sad.”

“That’s okay,” his hand is on your back again, and now that you’re in his arms with clear thoughts, you realise how much you missed it.

“I’m sorry if I neglected our friendship because of him. I never realised I was doing that but now that I’m here... it feels like I haven’t been here in ages. Haven’t been with you in ages.”

“It’s alright. I’m not mad at you because of it. You’re in love and I get that it was new and exciting.”

You’re glad that Peter isn’t saying I told you so. While he never directly said it, you could tell that he was suspicious of Max from the start. But even if he was right, there’s nothing you can change about the situation anymore.

“Was in love,” you correct him, “I’m still hurting but my attraction to that guy ended as soon as I found out how much he abused my trust. I mean cheating on someone - that’s one of the worst things you can do to a person you love. I don’t even think you can love someone if you think it’s okay to cheat on them. God,” you feel anger bubbling up inside you and there’s a fresh batch of tears stinging in your eyes. You try to rub them away. He doesn’t deserve your tears. He doesn’t even fucking deserve you thinking about him.

“We’re going through the stages of grief pretty quick here, huh?” Peter smiles, placing a hand on your knee and you’re breathless for a few seconds.

You manage to smile at him while your heart skips a beat.

“Uh.. um I don’t know, I’m just... I don’t know. I can’t believe it. And then I sacrificed time with my best friend to spend time with that prick instead. Please forgive me, Peter,” you look at him with pleading eyes but you see nothing but kindness on his face.

“There’s nothing to forgive. I promise it’s okay. But I’m still happy that you’re acknowledging it. Don’t get me wrong I love Ned and MJ, but you were definitely missing.” Last week was one of the few times you’ve been with your group of friends lately. You spent most of the time during your relationship being with Max, only rarely seeing your friends.

“Maybe you should get a girlfriend so I know how it feels,” you say, even though you don’t know why.

“Nah.. not interested in a girlfriend at the moment,” he shrugs.

Even though you’re heartbroken, you forget about your actual sorrows for a second now that you know Peter’s not dating anyone and you feel a sudden warmth in your belly.. and on your cheeks...

“Oh… boyfriend then?” You tease him, pretending like it wouldn’t hurt if the answer was yes.

He shakes his head. “I’m just happy that you’re back. Not that you were gone- you weren’t as bad as Ned when he got together with Betty.”

You chuckle as you remember going a whole three months without seeing Ned when he got together with his girlfriend.

A pleasant silence settles between you, and you’re simply happy to be in Peter’s presence again.

“I love you,” you tell him after a few minutes and wrap your arms around his neck in a hug. “I love you too,” he says, his mouth pressed against your shoulder.

As you part, you kiss his cheek. And again, the anger inside you is overpowered by butterflies for a few seconds. It’s only brief, and a moment later you think about that asshole again, and the fire swallows those butterflies whole. But they were there, you can’t deny it. And you’re not even surprised.

You lean your head against Peter’s shoulder, taking deep breaths, trying to relax at least a little. Peter lowers himself, and you with him, onto his bed.

He turns so you’re face to face, and you snuggle up to his soft hoodie and his warm chest, feeling the relaxation you need finally settling in.

“Thanks for being here for me.”

“Always,” he promises and hesitantly kisses your cheek too.

You fall asleep with the image of Peter’s blushing face on your mind and the promise of love.

You have a long way to go before you can even begin to heal from what your ex did to you. But you have your best friend who will love and support you throughout all of it.

And as you fall asleep next to him, you feel more comfortable and more protected than you ever did with your ex. You don’t want to rush into anything, Peter will always be there for you to love him. But now that you’re with him like this again, you realise it’s what you wanted— no, what you needed all along.

You never saw Peter as just a friend, but you were scared to even admit your feelings to yourself, let alone to him, in case you ruined this great friendship.

But now you’re not afraid anymore.

You’ll need some time to heal first, but when that’s done, you know you will finally have the courage to love Peter and to let him love you.

hi love! i saw ur taking reqs for flufftober!! this actually my first time asking something so pls correct me if i use my terms wrong hihi :> kind of my first time using tumblr!! so could i request kissing prompts no. 1 and 2 ? but before the prompts could you make it start like where a reader and arvin are dates to prom, but when reader arrives, some girl is trying to take him or like dance with him when he clearly doesnt want to? then reader runs out of the venue and she stays under the stars where arvin finds her then the kissing prompts ? hehe i love arvin so much its making me crazy 😩

❀ what moonlight can do ❀

omg this is my first time writing for arvin. wack & very overdue. i listened to what a little moonlight can do by crystal gayle, felt like it fits the vibe & era of a prom way back when lmao feel free to give it a listen while reading :’)

prompts: (1) kissing your lover’s knuckle before a dance + (2) during the dance’s climax, you and your lover lock eyes, and your lips meet.

↳ established couple, arvin can emote we love to see it, very shy & socially anxious y/n for all my fellow anxious bitches

content tags: smoking, fluffy angst, light themes of body image issues & insecurities.

word count: 2k damn i obviously have feelings for this man

flufftober drabbles (requests are closed!)

ooh, what a little moonlight can do ooh, what a little moonlight can do to you you're in love your heart's fluttering all day long

the air is stuck in your chest. with your hand pressed to your stomach, you can feel it moving up and down—you know you’re technically breathing, but your throat can’t stop constricting.

you weren’t planning on going to prom. when the topic first came up between you and your boyfriend, you were sitting in his car, parked on the side of a rarely used autoroute. the radio was off, only because you insisted on arvin not letting the car run and waste gas just to listen to music. he relented in the end, only to begin humming your favourite song with a cheesy smile, eyes focused on the view out of embarrassment instead of meeting yours.

“did lenora tell you about prom?” you asked, slowly running you your finger over his knuckles. 

arvin hummed, rolling the window down a little more so you can enjoy the early summer breeze. “she mentioned it, yeah. you thinkin’ of going?”

a snort tumbled out of you without your knowledge, and you shook your head, tracing over his wrist. “nah, it’s not really my type of scene.” you trailed off, nerves suddenly washing over you. “why? you interested?”

he was leaning against the headrest, hair tousled and eyes closed in the most restful you’d ever seen him. at your coy question, though, one of his eyes cracked open. arvin glanced at you, cheeks tinged while he tried to gauge your expression before he finally said, “if you want to, i’d go. go anywhere for you, y/n/n.”

it was pretty hard to say no after that.

and now, here you are, feeling like your heart is about to jump right out of your mouth with how violently it’s beating. if it were just you and arvin enjoying a night of music and dressing up for each other, you wouldn’t be nearly as nervous. it’s not the thought of him that’s making anxiety curdle in your stomach like rotten milk—far from it. if anything, knowing he’s waiting for you only a few steps away is the only thing that’s holding you together.

it’s them. not unlike arvin’s little sister, you’re very much a quiet, nearly invisible figure among your classmates. it wasn’t much different when arvin was roaming the school hallways at the same time as you before he dropped out. back then, you weren’t very close, but it’s not like he’s oblivious of your unease in public spaces.

regardless, you know that tonight means a great deal to him, even if he hasn’t said it out loud. lenora recounted to you her brother’s excitement while he was figuring out what to wear for your prom, and the mere idea of your tough, impenetrable man trying on outfits for his family to judge was enough to make you melt. i have to get through this, you think to yourself. for arvin, who’s never asked for anything. for arvin, who simply wants to enjoy one night of normalcy and lightheartedness with you.

taking a deep breath, you cross the street to reach the school, heartbeat thumping in your ears. the streets are crowded, students hanging outside, smoking and talking together, before entering the party. if you can even call it a party. it’s held in the school’s lousy excuse of a gym, which is nothing but a large room with slippery floors and only one window. at least the doors are somewhat decorated, a very enthusiastic bright purple banner hanging across it.

your hands are completely shaking when you push them open and walk in, wincing as you get used to the music. to your utter surprise, people seem to be enjoying themselves; a rare sight in your small town. girls in puffy dresses and extravagant hairdos, boys in ill-fit suits and gelled-back hair. in the middle of it all, your eyes finally land on arvin, standing with his back against the wall near the refreshments table.

he looks so much better than you could have imagined. black trousers cinch in his waist, the legs a little too long for him, rolled up so they don’t drag on the floor. tucked into his pants is a crisp white shirt, one of the many he has, but cleaned to perfection. he’s topped the look off with a navy blazer that he keeps fiddling with, and you can already clock his cigarette pack and lighter in the breast pocket.

you feel a little underdressed, although you’re in the fanciest dress you’ve ever worn. despite the short notice and you thinking you weren’t going to step foot in the gymnasium, you were able to scrounge up all your savings to spend on a white dress. it stops a smidge above your knees, with lace around the sleeves and the hem. you felt a little embarrassed about the somewhat excessive neckline, making you cross and uncross your arms over your chest with nerves.

arvin hasn’t noticed you yet, probably because your feet feel glued to the ground near the door, like your body simply refuses to venture further into the sea of people. right as you clench your fists and decide to take the first step forward, your breath hitches in your throat as you watch someone walk towards your boyfriend.

she’s gorgeous is your first thought. the second one is not as kind. you recognise her after blinking a few times; her name is belinda “belle” fletcher, she shares a few ap courses with you and is rumoured to be the valedictorian for your graduating class. knots form in your stomach as you see her stand beside arvin, one hand running through her silky, strawberry blonde hair and the other pointing back towards her group of friends.

arvin is expressionless as she talks to him, only for a scowl to break his face when she grabs his hands with her own, laughing loudly as she moves their interlocked palms. you can only imagine she’s asking him to dance with the way she’s swinging, hair flying around her.

you can’t find it in you to watch anymore. tears clouding your vision, you exhale shakily before turning around on your heels, pushing through a few people near the door so you can exit. the walk out of school and towards the grounds is a blur of tears, regret and annoyance. you shouldn’t have run away. no, if you were more confident, if you were more confident and free like arvin—like what arvin deserves in a girlfriend, you would have walked right over to him and pushed that girl away. if you were better, prettier, more courageous and interesting, you would have kissed him in front of everyone and danced the night away.

instead, your makeup—well, just mascara—is smeared from your crying and your feet hurt. it’s colder outside than you remember it being, now that you’ve exchanged your anticipation and anxiety for self-inflicted heartbreak. you feel like you’re hearing your own name whispered by the wind until you realise it’s arvin, his figure running towards you, getting bigger and bigger as he speeds from the school building.

“y/n,” he pants when he reaches you, “what was that?”

bottom lip trembling, you can only look away from him, rubbing your arms around yourself to fend from the chilly breeze. in the darkness of the night, only the moonlight illuminates both your faces.

“y/n.” arvin repeats, stepping forward so there’s practically no space between you. one of his hands cups your cheek, thumb wiling a tear off from under your eye, while the other reaches for your hip. “darlin’, why are you crying? what’s? did somebody say something to you in there, because i swear i’ll—”

“no.” you finally manage to utter, shaking your head and breaking out of his hold. “no, i’m what’s wrong.” his eyebrows furrow with confusion, sparking more anger in your chest. “i’m not pretty like none of those girls. i don’t have the money to buy a fashionable dress—i bought this from an old neighbour and tried to fix it for myself, but it’s still nothing compared to them. i can’t pull off any hairdos and i don’t have any makeup and i’m not that smart or—or funny or interesting. you don’t deserve to spend your new shot at prom with someone like me. you deserve so much more, arvin.”

he’s stayed quiet throughout your entire rant, lips pressed into a thin line and hard eyes watching tears cascade from yours as you hiccup and spit the words out like poison. when you’re done, he still doesn’t speak, until the weight of your speech hangs heavy in the air around you.

“you done?” arvin asks, waiting for your shy nod. “i want you to listen to me very carefully now.” he closes the distance between you again, both hands coming up to cradle your face. “i love you. i love you so damn much, y/n, that it’s terrifying sometimes. and i don’t give a damn about dresses and hairstyles, doll. you would still knock the breath right out of me if you were wearing a bag of flour.”

at his exasperated confession, you can’t help but let out a teary giggle, making him smile. arvin taps your nose with the tip of his own, the tension dissipating little by little.

“you’re so beautiful, darlin’. you shine. your warmth and care, your intelligence that you always undermine, your kindness and your laugh. everything about you is beautiful.” he whispers, even though there’s no one around. your foreheads are pressed together now, and you let your eyes flutter closed. “you’re right, i don’t deserve to be with you tonight. you are so far out of my league, it shocks everyone in this fucking town that you choose to be with me, to love me. but i’m grateful you do. i’m lucky you do. and i wouldn’t wanna be with nobody else, doll.”

looking up at him, you slowly place your palms over his hands, feeling a buzz in your chest when arvin smiles at the gesture and presses a kiss to the space between your eyebrows.

“i do,” you say, a few of your fingers running through his slicked back hair. “i love you so much, arvin.”

his grin widens, a sight that only you are awarded, and his hands drop to your waist. “well then, would ya keep making me lucky and dance with me, darlin’?”

“there’s no music, dumny.” you giggle, but you still place one hand on his shoulder and let him interlock your other with his own, his lips puckering into a kiss on your knuckles before your fingers interlock.

“we’ll make our own music, baby.” arvin pulls you closer and begins swaying to a silent rhythm, before his lips brush the corner of your lips, your cheek, and your ear. he starts humming a familiar tune, drawing another laugh out of you, and you rest your head against his sturdy chest. a stop startles you, and you look up at him, only for his lips to descend on yours.

you have to force yourself not to smile too wide so you don’t ruin the kiss, so you don’t disrupt the gentle, passionate movement of his thin lips with your own. arvin kisses you like your love can stretch this night out to last forever, like the song he continues to hum in your ear when you break apart will never end.

you can't resist him

and all you'll say

when you have kissed him is

“ooh, what a little moonlight can do”

three months

pairing: peter parker x fem!reader

synopsis: peter reminds you just how much he's missed you.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: fluffy makeup sex, minors dni !!

a/n: happy new year!! i hope this year brings you so much joy <3 this is my first time writing smut so let me know what you think!! try to spot the tasm2 references :p

it's been three months since peter decided to leave.

and it was impossible to not miss what once was. you couldn't help but miss those big, brown doe eyes. you couldn't help but miss the gentle touches he left on your skin in passing. you couldn't help but miss how he would try his hardest to get you to laugh after a bad day. and you couldn't help but miss the empty promise he spoke to you almost every day,

"i'm never letting you go."

and now, as you lay in bed, clad only in his faded blue jacket and your favorite underwear, you couldn't help but miss how good his body felt against yours.

it's been three months since peter decided he wasn't good for you.

peter had come to your window one night after a night on patrol. he could only utter words of worry, letting you know just how much danger he was putting you in by wearing the mask.

you were reluctant about it at first, of course. you didn't want peter to decide your path for you. but you knew he only wanted to keep you safe. and you knew he wouldn't give it up.

so you gave in.

you weren't a total disaster without him. you knew you could go on without him. but that didn't make it hurt any less. you built a world with peter, allowed yourselves to get lost in each other. how could you not still love him?

it's been three months since peter met you at your window.

so you were a little startled to hear familiar taps echo through your room. the sound snapping you out of your thoughts, you look up to find peter just outside your window. your mind, along with your heart, raced a mile a minute as you took him in. he was standing on the fire escape, offering you the slightest smile.

still dorky as ever.

you hesitated, not quite sure you were ready to see him after what felt like an eternity. nevertheless, you managed to peel the sheets off your body, feeling only slightly exposed in front of him.

unlocking the window, you take a step back, eager to hear what peter has to say.

"hi," he whispers, a small grin etching across his lips as he recognizes his jacket.

"hi," you repeat, suddenly unable to find words of your own.

"can i come in? it's kinda cold out here." he's fiddling with the sleeve of his sweater, a habit you only now realized you missed.

"yeah," you let out a breathy laugh before continuing, "of course, pete."

he was a little awkward climbing through the small opening, but that was all part of the peter parker charm you'd come to love so much. and once he was in, standing in front of you, all you could manage to do was stare at him. you weren't sure where to go from here.

peter took a step closer to you, further fogging your mind. there was minimal space between you now—and you were well aware.

it's been three months since peter looked you in the eyes.

and it was only now could you see the few tears that managed to escape and fall onto his flushed cheeks.

"can i hold you?" he asks just above a whisper. the slight crack in his voice makes your heart ache. you nod without any hesitation, excited to feel his touch once again. he slowly brings his hands up to your waist, gently squeezing. the seemingly innocent action makes you weak.

it's been three months since peter has touched you.

it was hard to fathom how the mere touch of his fingertips could make you so hot. you feel your face heat up at the abrupt thought of peter between your legs. and as you stare into your ex-lover's eyes, you wish he would say something, anything, to divert your mind.

"i'm sorry," he starts, letting out a small chuckle, "i couldn't stand being away from you any longer."

with confusion clouding over your features, you begin to probe, "peter i don't un-"

"i was so wrong, y/n. so so wrong." one of his hands comes up to slightly graze your cheek. "you're my path, y/n. you're my path."

the word he chose to emphasize does something to you.

"i'm never letting you go, again." he somehow manages to bring himself closer, now resting his forehead against yours. he shakes his head, repeating, "never, baby."

you couldn't help but smile thinking about your next words, "prove it." peter matches your smile before connecting his lips to yours.

it's been three months since peter has kissed you.

and with that singular kiss, the man has your mind running wild thinking of all the things you want him to do to you.

his hands leave your waist, instinctively finding the curve of your ass. "i've missed you," he mutters against your lips. "so much." his actions emphasize his words as he fervently grabs fistfuls of you. reaching your hands up, you tug on his familiar unruly locks. he lets out a small whimper, letting you know just how much he needs you.

growing hungry, peter glides one hand under your thigh, followed quickly by the next. you let out a squeal as peter swiftly picks you up, already feeling his cock straining against his jeans. you couldn't help but smile between kisses.

he's finally yours again.

peter hurriedly walks over to your bed, hands sliding across your back as he gently places you upon the sheets. that’s one thing that’s never changed about him—always so gentle.

nudging your sides and humming against your mouth, he mutters “let me see you, pretty girl.”

he makes you dizzy.

you reluctantly unwrap yourself from him, now feeling small under peter's gaze. seeing you turn your head away, peter places a finger under your chin, gently guiding your gaze back to him. and with a toothy grin, peter speaks a low “hi,”

“hi,” you repeat, overwhelmed by his tender demeanor.

peter leans in once again, this time nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. he places scattered kisses across your neck, occasionally nipping at your skin.

drawing his hands down to your waist, he slips his fingers under the worn out jacket adorning your body.

your body retreats at first, overstimulated after months without his touch. peter quickly catches on, pulling back, concern littering his features. “is this okay?” he asks, not wanting to lose you just as soon as he got you back.

“yeah, it’s okay,” bringing a hand up to his face, you run your fingers over his now rosy lips. “just forgot how good you felt.”

“you’ll be the end of me, y/n.” he smiles, lips quickly returning to yours.

peter’s hands find your body, his actions hurried this time. finding the zipper of your jacket, peter swiftly pulls the small piece of metal down your torso, only now noticing you had gone without a bra tonight.

“fuck baby,” he says just above a whisper, thumbs coming up to softly run over your nipples. “you’re so pretty, petal”

that fucking nickname.

peter brings his head down, connecting his lips to one of the erected buds. the feeling making you lose your breath. running your hand through his hair, you plead, “peter, please. do something.” “eager?” peter teases as he pulls away, a cocky smile plastered on his lips. you roll your eyes as you your hands find the hem of his shirt, tugging it off.

you've missed his body so much—missed him so much.

your heart fluttered at the view in front of you. placing your legs over his shoulders, peter found his way between our legs. he littered soft kisses over each of your thighs, careful to remain eye contact with you. “peter,” you whine, not sure if you could take any more of his teasing. taking the hint, peter steadily slides the lacy material down your legs.

it's been three months since peter has tasted you.

your back arches slightly as peter traces his tongue over your slit. his fingers quickly follow suit, only then ghosting his tongue lightly over your clit. “i’ve missed the way you taste," he murmurs against you. tugging slightly on his hair, you silently beg for something more.

making his way up your body, peter littering small kisses here and there—until finally connecting his lips to yours once again. his hands now occupied with the button of his jeans. matching peter's eagerness, your hands rush to remove the tattered jacket from your body.

this was met with a soft "no," from peter. hands coming up to cup your face. he's slow with his words, "leave it on," leaving a small peck to the tip of your nose, he continues, "wanna fuck you in my clothes." his words leave you trembling—the small smile he offers a stark contrast to his words. a small "okay," was all you could muster as you laid back, willing to give yourself fully to him.

hovering over you now, fully unclothed, peter gives you an endearing smile. "what?" you mumble, bringing your hands to cover your face.

the silence is calm, full of love.

"i love you," he whispers, pulling your arms down. his eyes find yours and you swear you could see the sincerity of his words. overwhelmed with all the emotions those simple words brought you, you remind him, "i haven't heard you say those words in months, pete" this time feeling small under your gaze, peter's eyes shift to nothing in particular.

"i love you." you finally repeat. his eyes light up, a goofy smile dancing across his lips. "i love youuu" he drags out playfully, sending you into a small fit of giggles. "god, i love that sound." he says, voice now low and full of ardor.

he knew exactly what to say and how to say it—your peter.

you wrap your arms around his neck, the blue fabric contrasting beautifully against his skin. now you know why he bought this thing. keeping your eyes on him, peter rolls himself into you effortlessly, as if he never left.

it's been three months since peter has fucked you.

"peter," you whine, your darling boy now stretching you out. you felt so full after months of feeling empty. "you okay?" he's gentle, more than willing to take as much time as you need. "yeah, i'm okay." you smile, "just needed a moment. go ahead." "that's my girl," he chuckles, burying his face in the crook of your neck, pulling out almost completely before thrusting back into you.

god he fucks good.

"look so good in my clothes, baby." peter's movement falters, bringing your leg up to wrap around his waist—your back arching at the new position. the heat in your stomach growing with each thrust.

you two are fully consumed, wanting nothing more than to feel each other. familiarizing yourselves with each other's bodies like you did all those years ago. he's your everything right now—and always.

peter picks up his pace, pressing his forehead against yours—making eye contact as he pounds into you. "feels so good," he murmurs, glancing down at where your bodies connect. needing something more, you lift your hips up to meet him, creating the perfect rhythm. his thrusts become unforgiving, but never too much.

"fuck, pete," you cry, now looking into his eyes. "m gonna cum," your hand goes to find your center, only to be stopped by peter, quick to trace lazy circles over your clit, the overbearing sensation causing you to arch further into him. "that's my girl," he coos, "let go for me, baby,"

"peter," you mewl, now overcome by pleasure. pounding into you now once—twice, until he cums. peter drops his head into the crook of your neck, painting your walls with his hot cum.

"you okay?" he asks breathlessly. you could only respond with a simple yes. his cock twitches as he pulls out of you, moaning at the loss. the feeling of his cum spilling out of you leaves you high.

peter lifts his head, soft eyes gazing into yours now—always so pretty after a good fuck. the comfortable silence is broken by him, "i'm never leaving you again," his head shakes lightly as he says these words, "ever." a small smile forms on your lips, knowing just how much he means it. mirroring your smile, he continues, "and i'm gonna do everything in my power to make you believe that."

it's been three months and peter has never stopped loving you.

Drunk [p.p]

pairing: Peter Parker x reader

summary: Drunk you isn’t as good at hiding your crush as sober you.

warning: alcohol, cringe that comes from drinking (although this is very much a glorified version of being drunk) which is why you shouldn‘t do it, not smut but alluding to it (no smut while drunk, but sexual references and touching), bit of angst I guess, the words "penis parker" make an appearance...

This is a fictional reader drinking for you so you don’t have to do it in rl :)))

word count: 3k

-this is a repost of an old fic-

It’s the sixth time that Peter’s interrupted his swinging tonight, only to see you’ve texted him another song that they’re playing at the party.

The party that he couldn’t go to.

He was supposed to be your plus-one to some celebration in the neighbourhood. Peter’d said yes originally, but in the past few days it’s like the crime rates have been going up exponentially. Going to a party when he should be saving the people of New York? Nope.

You’d been all pouty when Peter gave a rather lame excuse once again, but you weren’t mad at him.

Together with Ned and Betty, you’d still gone to the party and right now it feels like you’re deliberately trying to make Peter jealous.

You keep texting him, they’re playing this song, they’re playing that song, until Peter gets notifications so often that he thinks you must be texting him every single song they’re playing.

He would rather be singing all those songs with you together than anything else, but he couldn’t just leave the streets to the criminals with a clear conscience.

So when another message pops up, (they’re playing his favourite song. great.) he quickly types an answer.

I get that I’m missing out, you didn’t have to text me every single song

He quickly adds a laughing emoji, but the previous message still sounds as passive-aggressive as Peter felt when he typed it out.

You don’t reply immediately and Peter mutes his phone.

The silence is deafening. He pictures how you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket, happy that Peter finally replied, only to see a message like that.

He concentrates on being Spider-Man fully, but as soon as he’s sure that he’s done for the night, he texts you to notify him when you’re home safe.

You don’t get the message and he assumes your battery must have run out.

He also sees the reply you sent him after his message earlier;

Sorry

When he’s the one who should apologise to you. For that, and also to make sure you’re home, Peter goes to your place, knocking on the window after he’s changed into his normal clothes.

You’re all glammed up, looking like you just came home. Absolutely gorgeous.

Your face lights up when you spot Peter, you open the window for him, letting out a loud, “Peter!” You shout, are you drunk?

He tries to calm you down, “Shh, your parents will kill me if they find out I’m here now.”

“They’re gone for the night, you can chill.”

“So you’re just here, drunk on your own?” he asks.

“I’m not drunk,” you declare, giggling, then giggling even more at your own laugh. Cute. You don’t seem too far gone, luckily. He’ll still gladly take care of you.

As you stretch down to your shoes, not reaching them from your sitting position on your bed, Peter sits down on the floor to help you get them off; not taking into consideration that you’re wearing a short skirt…

He tries to concentrate on opening your shoes and sliding them off, and he gets the first one without looking up.

But before he gets to the second one, you lie down on your back, your legs moving forward slightly and Peter can’t resist a quick glance.

He swallows when he sees the lace panties smiling back at him from between your thighs.

Wait is that the print of your p-

Someone up there is trying to torture Peter for sure, what did he do to them?

You sit up abruptly and Peter fears he’s been caught, but you talk about the exchange of texts earlier.

“Oh Peter! I‘m sorry that I annoyed you earlier, I didn‘t mean to,” you pout, regret in your eyes.

“What?” Maybe with the state you’re in, Peter can brush his earlier mood off.

“I’m sorry, Peter. I shouldn’t have been texting you every two minutes and disturbing you while you were helping May out,” your eyes start watering, unreasonably, and you might be drunker than Peter originally realised, “It’s just that they were playing all your and our favourite songs and it reminded me of you. I missed you so terribly and I wanted you to know that.”

Oh damn, that’s cute. Peter thought you’d been mad at him for not coming. But it’s the opposite.

These Instagram pages always say stuff like, get you someone who texts you even when they’re surrounded by other people, not just when they’re alone and bored. You did exactly that, and Peter still snapped at you.

You give him teary puppy eyes, your arms going around his shoulders, “Do you forgive me, Pete?”

“Of course I do,” he rubs your back, “Do you forgive me?”

You pull back, a soft smile on your face,  “Always.”

He hugs you again, feeling your tears drop down on his shoulder.

“I was just missing you and not realising that you were just doing the same.”

“Yeah, I missed you,” you say once again, in your drunken stupor.

You wipe your tears away and squeeze Peter’s cheeks, placing a sloppy kiss right on his lips with an exaggerated mwah sound.

Peter freezes. That might’ve been the best moment of his life, but you’re drunk and don’t know what you’re doing.

Before he can comprehend what you’re doing now, you pull off your top clumsily, now only in your bra.

“Mh- oh god.” Peter doesn’t know what to do so he sits down on the floor, turning his back to you.

“Peterr, I need your help!”

“You can change on your own,” he says as calmly as possible.

He hears a huff from you and a clicking sound a few seconds later and you fling your bra through the room. Peter tries not to look at where it lands.

“Can you give me clothes?”

“Yeah, where from?”

“The dresser, dummy,” you giggle.

“Uh what do you need?”

“A t-shirt and more comfortable underwear.”

He hears you undo the zip of your skirt and he can guess what’s next. He ignores that the thin piece of lace lands right next to him.

Without paying much attention to your collection of lingerie, he just takes out the first cotton panties he sees. “Do you want shorts?”

“No, they’re uncomfortable. I’d usually sleep without a shirt too but since you’re too scared to see me naked, I’ll put on a shirt.”

“Oh, how thoughtful of you,” Peter says, trying not to go crazy with you being naked in the same room as him and all.

“I know, hey can I have my clothes now? My nipples are cold.”

Along with an oversized shirt, he scoots back on the floor, his back still to you, until he bumps against your legs.

He reaches out to pass you the clothes behind his back when he feels something soft, “Oh my god, I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to touch your boob!”

“That was my leg,” you take his hand. Peter doesn’t realise what you’re doing until he clearly feels a nipple, “This is my boob.”

He stays lost in the new feeling for a split second, before pulling his hand back.

“See, you’re scared.”

“I’m not.” He’s not scared of seeing you naked or touching your boob. Okay, he’d be nervous. But you’re not sober and he’s scared that you wouldn’t want to do any of this if you were. He'd obviously want it.

Your knees knock against his back and he guesses you’re pulling your panties back up, Peter’s mind more focussed now that your most vulnerable part is covered again.

He feels your foot nudge the back of his jeans, “The last song they played before I went was Apple Bottom Jeans and that for sure made me think of your ass. If Captain America didn’t have that title already, I’m sure people would be calling your cake America’s Ass,” you giggle quietly and Peter blushes.

“My head is too big for this shirt,” you say after a few moments.

“I’m sorry but I can’t help you if you’re still half-naked.”

“I’ll cover up my boobs,” your voice is muffled by the shirt over your head.

Peter turns around reluctantly, your hands covering your nipples, and the sleeve-hole of the shirt laying atop of your head.

He helps you manoeuvre your shirt onto your body and he’s glad it’s long enough to at least cover your ass.

You lie down on your back, legs dangling off the bed while Peter goes to your bathroom, rummaging to find products to take your make up off with.

When he comes to your room, he thinks you’re asleep as he carefully sinks down on the bed next to you, make-up wipe ready in his hand.

You suddenly jump, “Launching attack!”, flipping Peter onto his back and straddling him, a playful smile gracing your features that’s wiped off your face when Peter says, “Could you get off me, please?” He’s just an innocent guy, why do you have to be a horny drunk?

“I- I’m sorry. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, are you mad at me again?”

“That’s not it, I’m just not sure if you’d be doing the same things if you were sober, so you can’t be sitting on my lap and stuff.”

It’s not that he doesn’t want to do anything sexual with you, the opposite, actually. But he can’t like this.

He wonders if you only drank something because you were third-wheeling with Betty and Ned, and wanted a distraction. He really should’ve gone with you.

“Do you want me to remove your makeup?”

You nod and angle your face towards him, closing your eyes, looking calm again.

After about twenty minutes of you complaining that he’s either too rough or too gentle with the wipe and moisturiser, your face is glowing and clear again.

“Do you want to get something to eat? I once read this trick online to get rid of a hangover, I don‘t know if it works because I‘ve never been drunk but we could try.”

At the mention of food you jump up, running to the kitchen already.

Peter feeds you hydrating food, different fruits and makes you drink half a litre of water.

“You‘re such a good caretaker, can you always take care of me?” you ask, an extremely charming smile on your lips.

“Of course, I‘ll always take care of you.”

“Pinky promise me!”

“Pinky promise.”

You kiss his cheek lovingly, “Love you, Petey.”

And no matter how drunk you are, that was genuine.

“Love you more.”

When Peter’s tucked you in and said goodnight, he disappears into the living room, lying down on the sofa.

You follow him and lie down right on top of him.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m not sleeping alone,” you pout, “Please?”

“Okay, but I’ll sleep on your floor.”

“But I want to cuddle.”

Of course you get what you want and soon you’re spooning on your bed.

Even though you seem thoroughly tired now, you’re still not ready to go to bed.

Your ass keeps pushing back against Peter’s crotch and he’s scooted so far back that he’s pressed into the small gap between the wall and the mattress.

“Come here, Pete. I’m trying to thank you for taking care of me tonight.”

“You don’t have to do that. Cuddling is enough.”

You turn around to face him, making room for him. “Okay, I’ll leave Penis Parker alone, then.” Peter turns red but you don’t notice, throwing your arm over his chest and pulling him close.

Within seconds, you’re out like a light and Peter’s thankful that you’ll be back to normal again soon.

-

You wake up, limbs tangled with Peter’s. You know better than to worry that you slept with him. But it takes a few more moments of fully awakening to remember what happened last night.

Oh God.

Peter stirs when you try to get up and you pretend to sleep again.

Whatever he says, deny deny deny.

You wait a few more minutes, but all he’s done is hog the blanket and gently started snoring, looking like an angel.

He was also an angel to you yesterday, so you don’t want him to see your presumably messy hair and hungover state.

Climbing out of bed and into the shower, you freshen up quickly. You make breakfast, lucky that you have the ingredients for Peter’s favourite recipe.

You want to thank him for putting up with you yesterday and taking care of you so well.

You remember going to that fun party with Ned and Betty. How the only thing it was missing was Peter. They had plenty of good music and good drinks that were so good that you didn’t even notice how much alcohol was in them. Your head is only now starting to hurt as you remember how much you actually had.

You remember how you texted Peter and he was annoyed, but he came to your place through the window - wait, your memory must be weird here - anyway, Peter came to apologise and look after you. You’d for sure been a handful, so a nice breakfast is the least you can do to thank him.

Not too stable on your feet with that hangover, you decide not to risk it all by bringing the food in on a tray. As you walk back to your room, you see Peter rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, looking tired, but he still asks you first.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m good actually, nothing major, thanks to you feeding me,” you smile, sitting down with him.

“Oh you remember?” he smiles back at you sleepily.

“I told you I wasn’t that drunk! I remember how you came here, helped me change, remove my make-up and fed me,” you summarise, hoping he won’t go in on the details.

“Yeah, that’s it really.”

“So to thank you for all that, there’s a really delicious breakfast waiting-” he jumps up, already in the kitchen before you can even stand up to follow him.

*

It’s been a few days since that all happened and Peter’s back at your place.

He’s been thinking about all the things you said, and did, when you were drunk. And everyone knows drunken words are sober thoughts.

But since it happened, nothing has happened between you two. You’re friends, like before. Even though Peter was aware that you were being influenced by alcohol, there had been a little hope blooming in him all night, that you’d continue to openly show your affection towards him, but that was not the case.

Now he needs clarity.

“Hey, so, I know you said you remembered everything that happened the other night, but.. there are some things that you did that you didn’t mention, and I wanted to ask you about that. So first you-”

“I remember everything. I know I gave a very sparse summary, but that was just so neither of us would be embarrassed. But you’re right, we should talk about it. So sorry for… corrupting you?”

He chuckles, “That was not the problem, it’s just I didn’t know much effect the alcohol had on you and if those were your real thoughts or not..”

“The feelings I showed towards you were real, but if I’d had the guts to confess that I like you earlier, I would’ve approached it differently. Guess drunk me didn’t really give a fuck.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Peter says and leans forward to press an unexpected kiss to your lips.

You’re too surprised to kiss him back and he stops, readjusting himself, coughing awkwardly, “Sorry did you not- I uh,”

“No, no I’m sorry. I know that you were really nice to me when I was drunk, but I thought you were just saying that stuff to not hurt my feelings. So.. you like me too?” You haven’t comprehended the situation fully yet, but a smile blooms across your face anyway.

“Yes. How could I not?”

You take it in fully now, feeling drunk again because... is this real?

Finally both understanding that yes, you fucking like each other, you inch closer to each other again, both grinning like crazy.

Straddling him, with both of your valid consent this time, you start kissing him like you’ve wanted to all your life.

He kisses you back eagerly, his hands wandering under your hoodie, but politely staying at your waist. That’s before he pulls away, hair messy from you grabbing at it and even after your ten-minute make-out session he seems nervous.

“Tell me if I’m like making you uncomfortable or something but I have a question. That night you were very,” he scratches the back of his head, “Sexual. Was that just cause you were drunk or...?”

“I don’t remember every single thing I said or did so if I did something embarrassing then it was just cause I was drunk. But otherwise... I’ve had a crush on you for ages so…”

“So?” he asks.

“I’ve thought about having sex... or generally doing anything sexual with you a lot.”

“R-really?”

“It’s not just guys who think about it.” You shrug, going to kiss at his neck while he lets that information sink in. “What about you?” you wonder.

“Every day for about 4 years- I mean not every day. Not four years. But yeah definitely, I have.” He’s red as hell and can’t quite look you in the eyes.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed about that... it’s hot, you’re hot.”

”You’re hotter,” he says, starting to kiss you again.

“What do you wanna do about it? Like, no pressure, never, but if you wanna do something sexual, I’m down.” Peter says, trying to sound more confident.

“Honestly, I really want to have sex with you right now but I think we should wait just a bit. I don’t wanna make that decision when I’m horny.”

“You’re horny right now?”

(He can be oblivious at times.)

“Yes, Peter.” You don’t have to ask him if he is, as you can feel his hard-on pressing into your thigh. You don’t mind it, as you know he’d never make you do anything you don’t want.

“Maybe for today we can just enjoy finally being with each other and go with the flow?” you suggest and he nods eagerly.

For that day you do nothing but kiss for hours, exploring each other with hands and mouths, comfortable the whole time because there’s no pressure. There never is with Peter.

You go to sleep that night, excited about your future together.

navigation.

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peter parker blurbs.

⤏ main masterlist

⤏ scroll through these :p

⤏ organized by date: oldest to newest.

⤏ ** indicates nsfw content, minors dni !! u will be blocked !!

BLURBS

home to you

⤏ after an unfavorable night on patrol, peter proposes an idea.

last night

⤏ peter makes the morning after unforgettable.

three months

⤏ peter reminds you just how much he’s missed you.**

attention

⤏ peter does whatever he can to get your attention.

SMAUS

sick days

⤏ peter helps to make sick days bearable.

i love clingy peter :’)

green light | p.p.

pairing : peter parker x gn!reader

summary : when peter sees you after a long time. him being the clingy baby he is, can't stop kissing you and he gets distracted while waiting at a red light.

word count : 970

warnings : everything fluff, mentions of hospital, minor injuries, too much of kissing and too much of laughing, peter's lips (there's no way that's not a warning), clingy!peter, gn!reader.

note : i know it's short but cdfvtgybhnj, makes me giggly. anyway, first fic on this blog yay! enjoy, lovelies <3

"hey, i missed you so much," you said as you spotted peter right outside the arrival gate. you left your grip on your suitcase and rushed to wrap two tight arms around peter's torso.

"i know, i missed you too, lovey," you could almost see the sad smile on his face as he hugged back, warm lips finding home on the side of your neck. you stayed in his embrace, taking in the scent of his clothes before peter asked, "is your mum better?"

"yeah, much. she got discharged this morning," you smiled softly at him as he took the chance to load your luggage in the trunk. when he moved to the side, you spotted a new cut to his cheekbone and frowned. stepping closer, you asked "hey, how's patrol going, you're not beating up yourself too much, right?"

you raised your hand to reach out but peter caught onto your wrist, gently moving his fingers to the back of your hand, obliging you to cup his cheek. "i'm okay, baby, don't worry," he assured you and placed small kisses on the back of your hand before you hugged him once more. he starts pulling away only to stop inches away from your face.

"if you're—hm," your next words are muffled by peter's thin lips moving swiftly against yours. his arms went around your waist by habit, pulling you closer to him, while you slowly lift yours up to cling your fingers to his flannel. you kissed back, strongly fighting the urge to smile but failing and so does peter.

the corners of his mouth turn up, still trying to kiss you but he only ends up with your lips against his.

"let's go, come on. then you can kiss me and," you start talking but once again are interrupted by a small peck on your lips. you giggled, "and shut me up like that."

"will do," he teased with a sly smile and opened the door to the passenger seat, urging you to get in. you did and peter followed soon after. peter put on his seatbelt as you mimicked his actions and settled in.

his fingers turned the key over as the engine turned on. he pressed his foot onto the accelerator, releasing the handbrake and drove ahead. as soon as peter did that, his hand left to rest it on your knee, small circles made by his thumb making your body relax.

"how're ned and mj?" although you talked to your friends on the phone while you were away, multiple times, you couldn't help but check up on them once more.

"good, good. ned told me about how he scored a date with a girl from his lit class last night," he smirked proudly, and you nodded along with a smile. "mj's been... she's been scoring multiple dates."

you laughed at that, half expecting it. peter couldn't help but laugh along with you, giving your thigh a short pat. the pair of you rode in silence for a while when you were almost a mile away from the airport, and you faced a red light.

peter's foot pressed the break and the car stopped short. you tilted your head and squinted above at the timer, seventy-eight seconds.

"we should—" you were going to get annoyed, but peter knew you liked it. his thin lips were back on yours when he'd taken off his hand off your thigh and up to turn your face towards him.

"you need," you gasped suddenly, trying to catch your breath but peter's mouth found yours again. "to," you tried again and he chuckled making you grin back, still trying to kiss him. "stop doing—mph," an incoherent sound emitted from your throat when you felt peter's tongue moving against yours.

this time, even though you could not get enough, you held his jaw firmly and pulled away to look at him, "you need to stop doing that," you breathed out. his eyes were still closed and lips swollen.

and as though peter could sense your annoyance, he leaned forward awkwardly, his seatbelt restricting him to do so, and pushed his lips to yours again. slowly but surely, you kissed back and he mumbled out a small "why".

and you couldn't find the answer because truth be told, you had missed him and his lips just as much he did and you now you were trying nothing but fighting the urge to kiss him again and again.

"i think you like it very much," you could feel the smirk on your mouth as he said this making you want to roll your eyes.

"shut—" once again your voice was interrupted, not from peter's lips but the cars' horns that made you and peter jump in your seats. the tip of peter's ears turned deep red and started cursing when he saw the green light above.

he quickly started up the car once more and drove ahead

you pursed your lips and suppressed a laugh, ignoring the way your neck and cheeks turned warm. still, a small titter left your lips and peter turned to look at you, his face expressionless.

you turned to face the window and leaned your elbow on it, your palm hiding your face so peter couldn't see you.

"stop laughing," he exclaimed making you laugh louder and remove your hand so you could see peter.

"you look like a fucking beetroot!" you tried to stop laughing but peter turned even redder at that. even though peter was trying not to, you could see the hint of smile playing on his lips.

"you need to shut up or i'll kiss the shit out of you when we get home," he threatened playfully, and a toothy grin made its way on his face.

"oh really? well, i'm looking forward to it."

looking at these pictures has unlocked some long dead emotion in me i feel like im having an out of body experience