V Writes

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Too young to feel this way
Sequel to Teen Romance Flick 101
Word Count: 15.2K+
Pairing: Peter Parker x Female Reader
Summary: After months of dating you and feeling like the luckiest guy in the world, Peter’s secret life is starting to catch up with...

Too young to feel this way
Sequel to Teen Romance Flick 101

Word Count: 15.2K+
Pairing: Peter Parker x Female Reader
Summary: After months of dating you and feeling like the luckiest guy in the world, Peter’s secret life is starting to catch up with him– and the struggles of keeping his identity a secret put your relationship in a dangerous place.
Rating: T 
Warnings: Teenage angst.
A/N: PLEASE READ TEEN ROMANCE FLICK 101 BEFORE READING THIS. Not too long ago, that fic reached 1k notes and I’m honestly still shocked at the incredible response it got. I never thought it would blow up like it did and it really means a lot to me and to a lot of you, which is why I hope this sequel lives up to your expectations.


“God dang it.”

Peter has to work really hard to hold in his laughter as he looks at you struggling to reach a book on the highest shelf of the library. The tips of your fingers are already brushing it and you’re on your tiptoes– but the moment you jump and finally take a hold of it feels as if the speed of the world suddenly slows down.

It isn’t uncommon for Peter to see you with your shirt ridden up and he’s frankly quite used to it now– unlike the first time it happened when he felt as if he was about to faint. But, that aside, this time there’s something different. He’s far enough that he wouldn’t have been able to notice it if he was a normal teenager, but he isn’t. And now, because of that, his heightened sight picked up something poking out of your jeans that he kind of wishes it hadn’t– because now this place feels entirely too hot and it’s getting harder and harder to breathe.

You’re wearing Spider-Man underwear.

He doesn’t have time to think how or where on Earth you got Spider-Man underwear but there it is– it’s white and it has on it the particular spiders that have made him so well known in the city as of late.

The room feels as if is closing around him because it has never been this hot in the library before and he’s never felt so lightheaded, especially not since what happened, happened.

“Peter!” Your smile makes him breathe a little easier but still– now he’s pretty sure he’s sweating, too. You sprint towards him and in no time you’re in his arms and he’s holding you tightly– is it too tight?– and you smell incredible and you’re kissing him very intensely and he just gets completely lost in it and everything else stops mattering. “I missed you.” You say when you pull away, but he pulls you right in again and keeps kissing you a few moments longer. You laugh into the kiss and Peter simply knows that there’s no other sound he loves to hear more than that one.

“I missed you too.” He says breathlessly during a second he pulls away. “Like, really.” You join your lips again and he hears the loud thud of your book falling to the floor before your arms wrap around his neck to pull him closer.

“Parker, [L/N]!” You separate abruptly and turn to look at the source of the noise, where you find the librarian looking at you with accusing eyes and crossed arms. “It’s the tenth time this week and thank God it’s Friday. Split up and pick up that book, don’t damage school property because you can’t control your hormones.”

“We’re sorry.” You answer with a sheepish smile and Peter is thankful for that, because there is no way his voice will come out normal if he tries to speak right now. His face feels as if it’s on fire and judging by the way you’re holding back a laugh, you definitely noticed. “We’ll be good.”

She nods and walks away, leaving you both alone once again. Peter sees your shoulders shaking before you hide your face on his chest. The only thing he hears are the little sounds that manage to escape from your repressed laughter, and it doesn’t take him long to start laughing right with you.

“Oh, God. We’re bad.” You say once you pull away from him, reaching down to pick up your book. You grab his hand and pull him with you to the table where you were sitting and look through the shelves to see if the librarian is really gone, he assumes. Once you’re satisfied you lean forward and peck his lips, smiling beautifully. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Peter responds with a happy sigh as you sit down on your chair. He pulls the chair next to you a little closer to yours and does the same.

“So, why were you trying to find me?” You ask, opening your notebook and getting out a couple pens out of your bag. “Your text was kinda odd.”

Oh, right. The other reason why he came here– other than wanting to see you desperately as he usually does.

He has to cancel your date tonight.

He’s been trailing a group of criminals and they’re planning a big hit, and it’s going to happen roughly at the same time you’re supposed to be out together.

“Right. About that…” This is awful, because he wants to go out with you desperately but if he doesn’t stop these people bad things are going to happen. “I kinda… need to… get a rain check on our date tonight.” You turn your face towards him with your brow slightly furrowed and a confused expression on your face, and his stomach knots unpleasantly.

This isn’t the first time he’s done this to you, but he’s always tried to make it up to you and you’ve always been so understanding– although that’s because of the excuses he’s been making up.

The lies.

He’s been lying to you.

“Can I ask why?” You say, tilting your head to the side.

And now, another lie.

He feels awful, but he has to do this. The only other thing to do is tell you who he really is and he simply can’t do that. He already has enemies and getting you involved could be disastrous.

“It’s May… she’s not okay.” You gasp in horror and cover your mouth with your hand, and that feels even worse because now you’re worried about something that isn’t even real.

“What happened? What is it?” You ask, not even trying to hide the fear in your voice.

“It’s nothing serious, don’t worry. But she got sick like two days ago and I know she wants me to go out but I really don’t want to leave her alone for so long because I already spend so many hours in school and I want to make sure she eats–”

“Don’t worry. It’s okay. We can go out any other day.” You shake your head and wave your hand dismissively before taking a deep breath, and Peter feels as if he’s the scum of the Earth. “You take care of her and tell her I hope she gets better.” Your warm smile feels like a knife straight through his heart.

He hates himself so much right now.

“I will. Thank you so much for understanding, baby.” 

‘Thank you so much for being the best thing that’s ever happened to me and staying with me when I clearly don’t deserve you’ feels a little more close to what he wants to tell you right now.

“Of course, Peter. Come here.” And now you’re kissing him so sweetly that he could fall apart right here– because you are the most amazing person he’s ever met and you deserve so much better than what he’s been doing to you.

But he’s selfish– he doesn’t want to let you go. Maybe the fact that he’s lying to you so he can still have you in his life makes him even more of a bad person, but he can’t even think about not being with you anymore. These past few months you’ve been dating have been so wonderful and you fit together so perfectly that he simply can’t bring himself to renounce to you.

He’s not that strong.


As Peter leaves the library to go to his next class, you have your entire free period to think about what just happened.

Peter cancelled, again.

Of course, his aunt is sick and he has to take care of her because they only have each other– but he’s been doing that very often lately. He makes plans with you and then something comes up and he has to cancel– but you honestly can’t hold against him.

Ever since his uncle died things have been a little tough for them both, and he always makes it up for you whenever you can’t go out like you planned. But still, you had been waiting the entire week for your date tonight, and you would be lying if you didn’t say you’re disappointed that you won’t be spending the night with Peter. You haven’t had a real date in weeks.

And also… tonight you were planning to tell him you love him for the first time.

You weren’t going to do a big declaration of love or anything– you had planned to say it to him right after you kissed him goodbye. 

Sadly, that’s out of the question now.

You keep doing your schoolwork albeit a little more dejectedly, and the day continues with you seeing Peter for minutes in between classes until the day is finally done and you can go home together.

He practically runs towards you when he sees you and takes no time to start kissing you right in front of everyone– which makes your stomach explode with butterflies.

“I hate that we saw each other so little today.” He complains as he rests his forehead on yours and you nod in agreement before pulling him towards you again. You keep at it until someone whistles at you and your bubble bursts– and you realize that if you don’t hurry you’ll miss your train.

“Come on.” You say, interlocking your fingers with his as you start walking together. “We have to get to the train so you can get to May as soon as possible. Have you texted her? Is she doing fine?” Peter doesn’t answer so you turn to him and find him nodding. “Oh, good.” You say with a reassuring smile, hoping that he doesn’t feel too worried about her because you hate to see him like that.

Thankfully you manage to not miss the train, and as you sit down you notice that Peter seems a little more down than he was earlier today.

“Hey, you okay?” You ask softly, moving your hand to the hair at the back of his neck, where you bury your fingers and start caressing him slowly. He simply nods and leans into you, resting his head on your shoulder.

“Just a little tired.” He answers, taking a hold of your legs and putting them on top of his. You kiss the top of his head and he sighs, leaning further into you.

While he’s a normally affectionate person, Peter is rarely this affectionate in public, which makes you think he feels even more down about not going out with you tonight than you thought. You rest your cheek on top of his head and continue holding him until you reach the train station.

You try to cheer him up as you walk towards your home hand in hand and for the most part it works, but you can’t shake the feeling that something is very wrong with him. When you’re one block away from your house he stops walking altogether and turns to you with a troubled expression on his face.

“I’m so sorry I had to cancel our date.” His eyes overflow with tears when he finishes his sentence, and you immediately wrap your arms around him.

You knew this was the reason he was so down– he feels guilty for having to cancel your date.

You love him so much you don’t know what you’ll do with yourself.

“Peter, baby, it’s fine. We can go out any other day. May needs you tonight.” He sobs and nods against your shoulder, gripping the fabric of your shirt tightly.

“It’s just that we were both waiting for it and I don’t want to disappoint–” You don’t let him finish, you pry his head out of your shoulder and silence him with a kiss he reciprocates immediately. When you pull away he sniffles softly and looks at the ground, refusing to meet your stare.

“It’s okay, babe. I promise. We’ll move it to another day and that’s all, okay? Don’t worry about it.” He nods and finally meets your eyes with his red ones.

“Thank you.” He whispers, drying his tears. You kiss him one last time before pulling him with you again towards your building.

“I’ll text you tonight and everything and maybe we can have another movie marathon, how about that?” You suggest with an encouraging smile and he nods and gives you a tiny smile of his own.


Peter has to be the worst person that ever roamed the face of the Earth.

Okay– maybe not that, but he most definitely feels like a worthless piece of shit right now. He’s been wracking his mind trying to come up with a solution for his situation– something that will make him able to stop lying to you– but the only thing that will achieve that is telling you the truth, and that’s just not possible.

There’s a part of him who wishes you would be more demanding– that wants you to tell him that no, he can’t cancel another date because that’s not what a good boyfriend does but of course you don’t, because you’re amazing and wonderful and he’s so in love with you already he doesn’t know what he would do if you broke up with him.

But he has to keep you safe and that means that the less you know, the better.


“I’m sorry your date was cancelled, [Y/N].” You mom says with a sympathetic smile while you’re on your computer on the couch.

“It’s fine, May needs him. We’ll go out next week after we come back from Grandma’s.” You say dismissively, shrugging your shoulders.

“Yeah, poor May. It must’ve been some kind of virus that got her this week. Do you know if they need anything? Some food maybe?”

“I don’t know, to be honest. Peter didn’t mention anything about it and I didn’t ask.” Your phone beeps and you quickly pick it up, only to find a text from Peter.

I miss you and I want to kiss you

You grin widely and quickly type up a response.

Well, that makes two of us

“Is that Peter? Why don’t you ask him if he needs something?” Your mom insists and you nod.

Are you cooking for May tonight?
Yeah, I kinda have no idea what to do but I’ll figure it out

“He says he’s gonna cook for her but he doesn’t know how.” You tell your mom and start typing a question to ask if he wants you to bring something your mom made but you delete it mid-sentence, because an idea just struck you.

Sorry babe, good luck 😬
Ha ha, thanks for believing in me
You got this 😘😘😘💖💖💖

Thank you 💙 I’m going to the store and I’ll leave my phone charging, talk to you later?
Sure 😘 bye gorgeous
Bye beautiful

“Hey mom? You know that soup you make? Can you do some so I can take it to Peter?” You ask, feeling deeply satisfied for the idea you just came up with.

“Yeah, I’ll get right to it.”


As you go up in the elevator towards Peter’s floor, there’s nothing in your mind that would even suggest the possibility of this night going wrong. As a matter of fact, you feel giddy with excitement as you walk towards his door with the plastic container in your hands, ready to surprise him. You even managed to get inside without ringing the doorbell, because one of Peter’s neighbors was on his way out.

When you knock on his door, you can’t stop the grin that takes over your face as you imagine how this night will go– with you keeping Peter company and helping him with whatever he needs.

However, when May opens the door looking as healthy as humanly possible, you can practically see red sirens taking over every part of your mind.

“[Y/N]? What are you doing here?” She asks with a smile, moving her head out to scan the hallway in search of something. “Where’s Peter?” You want to say something but for some reason you can’t– you’re rooted to the spot with a smile that is slowly vanishing from your face. “What’s that?” She asks, pointing at the container in your hands.

“Soup.” You manage to say, because it seems that one word answers aren’t as impossible to say as full sentences. It takes you a couple of seconds to be able to say two more words. “For you.”

“For me?” She asks with a confused frown. “Thank you…” She says, still looking like she has no idea why on Earth you’re standing in front of her with that.

It’s because that’s what you give people who are sick– and if she is sick why would she be surprised that you brought her–

“Because you’re sick.” You say matter-of-factly, pushing one thought to the back of your mind; one thought that is scary and shouldn’t be there and you hate it and want it to disappear.

“Uh– I’m not sick.” She answers, laughing awkwardly. “Why isn’t Peter with you? He left for your date hours ago.”

No. 

No. 

No no no no no. This isn’t happening.

“He cancelled. He told me you were sick today and he had to take care of you.” You answer, but you don’t feel like you are the one saying the words. You feel numb and like you don’t care about anything anymore, and there’s something in your mind that tells you that you should be worried about feeling like this but, well… you simply don’t care. “We haven’t had a date in three weeks.” You say, focusing your stare in a blank point in the wall inside the apartment.

“Three weeks?” May shrieks, looking dumbfounded. “Sweetie, you need to get inside. Come here.”

You take a deep breath as you sit down on the couch with May next to you, thinking that there has to be an explanation for all of this because there is no way in hell that beautiful, wonderful Peter is chea–

“What’s happening?” You ask her, refusing to think about that dirty word. It can’t be real, Peter is not like that. Peter is good and nice and funny and he loves spending time with you– well… he used to, at least.

“Honey, I–” May starts, but shakes her head and remains silent for a few seconds. “I love Peter. He’s like a son to me, but in these past few months I’ve learned to care about you too and I am not going to let him hurt you if I can do something about it.” 

No. 

She has to stop talking, you don’t like where this is going.

“What do you mean?” You ask in the same detached tone you’ve been using, but this time your stare is focused on another blank point in the wall behind her.

“Peter has been telling me that he’s going on dates with you at least four times a week for the past month. And before that too, but I can’t tell if he was telling the truth then or not.”

No.

“Okay. Anything else?” You ask, wishing you could just start crying already because this emptiness inside you feels like it’s a lot worse.

“And… honey, I’m not sure you want to hear–”

“Say it.”

“He smells like girl’s perfume when he gets here.”


As Peter travels across the city still dressed up in his Spider-Man suit, he can’t help but feel excitement and happiness at how well this night turned out. The criminals are captured and the city won’t have to worry about them anymore, which is a relief for him and everyone else. There is a certain rush he feels whenever he does something right, something good to help people– even if they don’t even know he’s doing it. Helping people who need it feels so amazing and incredible and fulfilling that he knows he wants to keep doing this for the rest of his life.

However, now that the job is done and he has to take his suit off to put his other clothes on, he can’t help but let his mind wander off to his thoughts of you. He really wanted to go out with you tonight because he misses you like crazy, but when it comes to protecting people he simply can’t not step up to do his job. He hates lying to you, but he really doesn’t want you to know too much because what if one day someone discovers his identity and that links him to you? What if they take you away to get information? If you don’t have any information about him they’ll know, and that will probably mean that they won’t try to take it out of you by force.

He just can’t put you in that kind of danger.

It’s better like this.

He’s one block away from his home when he finally closes his backpack with his suit inside, and takes a small bottle of perfume you wear sometimes that he bought a few weeks ago at the mall. May always compliments you on how nice you smell, and Peter can always smell you on himself after you have a date, which means that if he shows up smelling like himself only May could notice that something is off and he wouldn’t know how to explain that to her. He couldn’t say to her that you didn’t spend enough time for your scent to move to his body because that’s just outrageous. May knows that you can’t keep your hands off each other when you’re together, and suggesting anything else would be just silly.

He shoves the bottle to the bottom of his backpack as he enters the elevator, pressing the button to his floor and feeling excited about getting to talk to you again. He wants to do a video chat and tell you how much he missed you, and maybe you can even watch a movie together at least for a little while before you go to sleep. Tomorrow you leave for your grandmother’s house to spend Christmas with your family, which means that he won’t get to see you for too many days.

Well, to be fair, one day without seeing you feels like too much. Peter just loves being with you– he loves you.

Yes, he does. He loves you.

He’s almost skipping as he walks towards the door, taking his key out to open it. He wonders if you’re waiting for him; he hopes you are.

He takes the key of the lock and closes the door behind him, hoping to find May on her computer or watching the TV– but instead he finds her sitting on the couch with her arms crossed looking at him with the stare she uses when he did something horribly wrong.

This can’t be good.

“How was your date?” She asks with a smile that seems entirely too fake, but Peter doesn’t have a clue as to why she’s acting like this.

“Uh, it was good. [Y/N] picked a good movie and then we ate. Is there something wrong?” He asks with a small smile, but it vanishes pretty quickly when he notices that May’s face never softens.

“There’s someone waiting for you in your room.” She answers simply, standing up and moving to the kitchen without saying another word.

Peter is scared to ask her who– so he just nods and makes his way towards his bedroom. While walking the few steps towards it, his mind wonders if it could be Mr. Stark again, wanting to take Peter with him on another mission. 

That wouldn’t explain why May seems so angry, though.

He’s already taking his backpack off when he opens the door– ready to face whoever is inside.

Or at least, he thought he was ready.

The backpack falls from his hands when he sees you waiting for him sitting on his bed, holding a framed picture of you two in your hands. You’re frowning slightly as you look down at it, as if you’re trying to figure out something.

He wants to say something– he wants to make sure that you don’t mistake this situation and that you don’t think the worst, but he can’t speak.

This is it. This is what he was terrified of.

“Why do you even have this picture on your nightstand? Does it not bother you to look at it every night?” You ask– and the cold, detached tone of your voice feels like a bucket of ice cold water on his head.

It’s getting harder to breathe.

“What?” He croaks out as his mind works a thousand miles a minute to come up with a solution to this, but he doesn’t know what to do.

“I mean, if I were you I would be so done with having to see yourself kissing me in this picture every night. It probably reminds you of how I like it when you text me before you go to sleep and that must be so annoying, right?” You ask, finally looking up at him. You tilt your head to the side questioningly, frowning a little. “God, you must get so fed up with me telling you how much I want us to go on a date.” You say, laughing in a way that chills him to the bone. “You’re probably like ‘God, what excuse can I come up with today so I don’t have to go out with her? Meh, it doesn’t matter because she believes everything I say anyway.’ It’s like that, right?” You ask with a huge smile that makes him want to beg on his knees for your forgiveness.

How can you possibly think something like that? How can you possibly believe anything other than him being head over heels in love with you? How can you not know with every fiber of your being that you’re the highlight of every single day and that speaking to you every night is the only thing that guarantees that he will have a good night’s sleep?

Because he’s been lying to you. Over and over again. And now you know.

That’s why.

“[Y/N], please–” You look at the picture again and leave it by your side on the bed before looking up at him with a small smile. He wants to tell you that it’s not what you think, he’s been lying because he’s Spider-Man and he helps people and he wishes nothing more than tell you but your safety– your safety–

Your safety comes first.

“Okay so, my night went like this.” You say, with the dull, empty smile still plastered to your face. “I was at home and I was so sad about you being alone and taking care of your aunt all by yourself, so I tell my mom to make me some soup so I can bring it to you. So stupid, I know. You probably want to laugh at me right now for being such an idiot.” You say, rolling your eyes and shrugging your shoulders.

“[Y/N]–” He feels the wetness on his cheeks before he realizes he started crying, and no matter how much he tries to say something there’s a knot in his throat that just won’t let him.

“So I come here to bring you the soup, thinking that I can keep you company and maybe we could have our date night anyway– like the idiot I am– and then May opens the door looking as healthy as ever!” You open your mouth in surprise exaggeratedly, while Peter is doing his best to not start sobbing in front of you. He doesn’t have the right to be the one in pain when you’re the one he betrayed. “So we exchange a few words and get this– she tells me that not only you said that you were going out on a date with me but apparently you’ve been going on dates with me four times a week for the past month! I know, imagine my surprise when I heard that. Anyway, that’s not even the best part, because up to that point there was a tiny part of me that said that I knew you and there had to be an explanation…” That feels like a cold knife straight through his heart. “But then she tells me– get this– that when you come back from those dates with me you smell of girl’s perfume. That was like… mind blown.

“[Y/N], it’s not what you think, I swear it’s–”

“Then what is it? Please, I’m waiting for an explanation because I’ve been sitting here for the past hour thinking about how never before in my life I’ve been so wrong about a person like I was about you.”

He opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out– because what is he going to say? He simply can’t tell you the truth because he’s been collecting enemies by the dozen these past months and he refuses to put you in danger.

Not you. Not ever.

He can’t.

“Yeah… that’s what I thought.” You say, standing up with a sigh. “Goodbye, Peter.” You’re almost reaching the door when something snaps inside of him– something that tells him that he has to do something– he must. He can’t lose you.

He can’t, he can’t, he can’t.

“Please– can we maybe talk about this tomorrow? I swear it’s not what you think–” His voice breaks mid-sentence and he sniffles and dries his tears as best as he can while trying to appear stronger than he feels– but failing to do so. You turn around sharply and look at him with a questioning smile, and he wishes you would just stop smiling and show some emotion because he knows you’re hurting deeply and this reaction is bad and dangerous for you.

He wants you to scream at him, to tell him you hate him– anything but this terrifying calmness.

“Talk?” You ask, letting out a laugh. “We’re– umm– we’re never speaking again, Peter. Don’t call me, don’t text me, don’t even look at me. We’re done. For good. If I never see you again it will be too soon.”

“No– don’t say that. Please don’t say that. Please–” There’s one last thing he can say and he knows he shouldn’t say it now even though it’s true– but he’s desperate and he doesn’t know what else to do. “I love you.”

He can see the exact moment when your walls crumble around you– your eyes starting to glisten with unshed tears. And he can also see the raw anger that takes over your face.

The betrayal.

His betrayal.

“How dare you say that to me right now?” The incredulity in your voice brings him back to reality and makes him realize how low saying that to you was. The tears begin cascading down your cheeks and the pain he sees in your eyes makes him want to disappear into nothing right now, makes him wish he never existed at all. “Fuck you, Peter.” You spit out, looking down on him like he’s the worst person you’ve ever seen in your life.

Good, because he is.

He finds himself looking at an empty doorway before he realizes you’re not there anymore, and it’s only the sound of the front door closing that brings him back and he falls to his knees, feeling as if something is constricting his chest and won’t let him breathe.

You’re gone.

Wait– you’re gone. He has to make sure you get home safe. You were upset and what if something happens to you?

He practically runs out of his room, but before he can reach the door May stops him, shaking her head.

“I called her an Uber. She’ll get home safe.”

“But– but I have to make sure– I always make sure she–” Is the room suddenly smaller? Why does it feel like the walls are closing around him? “I always make sure she gets home safe. Always.” He repeats stubbornly, sniffling as the tears continue falling freely down his cheeks.

“I think you’ve done more than enough today, Peter.” May says with a sigh, shaking her head.

The worst part about this is that she’s right.


When you get home you quickly dry your tears and take a deep breath, because you’re not ready to face your mother to tell her that the guy she thinks is an angel and the person responsible for her daughter’s happiness is actually a cheating asshole who doesn’t give two damns about her.

You see her on her bed focused on her computer, which is good because it means she won’t notice your appearance.

“[Y/N]?” She asks when you enter the bathroom.

“Yeah?” You ask, trying to keep your tone as steady as possible even though the only thing you want to do is go to your room and cry until you fall asleep.

“Did you have a good time? Did May like the soup?” She asks, and you have to clutch your stomach because of how much it hurts to think about it. But you can’t tell your mom, you’re not ready yet.

“Yeah, she loved it.” You answer, biting your lip immediately after to make sure you don’t make any noises. “I’m tired though, so I’m just gonna go to bed.”

“Okay baby, I’ll wake you up tomorrow morning to go to Grandma’s. I love you!“

"Love you too! Goodnight!” You brush your teeth as fast as you can and get out of there– not feeling safe until the moment you close and lock your bedroom door. You want nothing more than throw yourself in your bed and cry as much as your body and mind are begging you to– but you can’t. You can’t let your mother know about this yet because not only you’re not ready to face it, but also because it will possibly ruin your holiday– and right now you can’t lose the only thing that will take your mind off of things in the next few days.

You’ve always loved going to your grandmother’s house and you’ve always had a great time there– and you sincerely hope this time will be no different. Maybe when you come back you’ll be recovered and it won’t hurt your chest to think about Peter, like it does now.

Maybe when you come back you’ll be over the fact that the guy you fell in love with has been cheating on you for maybe over a month.

Maybe your mind will stop thinking about who she could be.

And if she knows about you.

She has to– you and Peter are plastered together all over social media. Unless she has no idea about any of his accounts there is no way she doesn’t know.

Is she prettier than you? God– is she smarter? Is she as smart as Peter? Is that why he chose her? Is that why he started cheating? Why didn’t he tell you he didn’t want to be with you anymore? Why did he let it go for so long? It’s clear he really likes her so why didn’t he dump you weeks ago? How could you be so wrong about the kind of person he is? How could he kiss you like that today in school– like he meant it– and then go out with another girl in a date that was supposed to be yours? How could he possibly be such a bad person?

And to you, no less.

You, who have always supported him and shown him how much he means to you.

You, who have soothed all his insecurities when he felt there was no reason for you to like him– because there were a million.

You… who love him.

Loved him.

Love him.

Still loving him after what he’s done is definitely the worst part about this.


As far as May knows, Peter has been sleeping in his room soundly for the past few hours– at least after he finally managed to calm down enough for her to believe that he’d fallen asleep. This is quite far from the truth; he’s been sitting on top of the only building that gives him a clear view of your bedroom window for who knows how long, wrapped up in a blanket. His cheeks are raw and they hurt because not only the air is freezing cold– especially up here,
– but because he hasn’t stopped crying since he saw you again; since he saw the state you’re currently in.

Moments like these are when he curses his heightened sight, because he can see you curled into yourself while your body shakes so clearly that it almost seems as if he’s right outside your window, looking at you directly.

However, even though it feels as if his insides are being ripped apart for witnessing this– he doesn’t have it in him to look away. He can’t. He deserves the pain he’s feeling because he is the one who made you feel like this– and he deserves to feel a million times worse than you do because of that.

How could he be so selfish? There was always something inside him that told him that he had to let you go because his secret identity was putting your relationship at risk– because he couldn’t give you everything you deserved. But he couldn’t do that because he loves you too much– he’s so in love with you that sometimes it doesn’t even understand how a teenager like him can feel like this for another person. He’s been told too many times that when he grows up he’ll really understand what love truly means– when he finally, truly falls in love for the first time.

But he disagrees with that because he knows this is it– and he’s always known that even if you weren’t forever he would always want to have what he had with you with the next person that came into his life because being you means happiness and love and feeling safe and wanted and having someone to talk to about everything– 

Well, almost everything.

It’s that almost that ruined his relationship with you, and there’s no one to blame but himself.

But he just can’t tell you he’s Spider-Man. He can’t, the dangers are too great and the risks and what about your safety and–

He’s doing the right thing. He is. This is for your own good.

Isn’t it?


“I have to pee, mom. Don’t worry, I’ll lock the door and meet you in the car.” You say, walking towards the bathroom. Your hear her groan before hearing the sound of your bags being dragged through the floor.

“Okay, baby! Hurry up!” She yells, and you wait in silence until you hear the sound of the door closing. You take your phone out of your pocket and quickly type a text on the group chat you have with your friends– something that you came up with while you were showering this morning.

I’m doing a social media/phone cleansing this week so you won’t be hearing from moi BUT I will be back next Friday and I’ll tell you all about it because I’m sure you’ll be dying to hear about my grandma’s new boyfriend
Merry Christmas!!!🎄🎄🎄🎄🎁🎁🎁 I love you guys! 💖

You throw the phone on your bed and walk away, not worrying about anyone replying because it’s too early and it’s Saturday and there’s no way any of them are awake.

This is good– doing this is good. Not taking your phone with you is the best thing you can do because if you do you’re absolutely going to start checking your pictures and videos and his twitter and Instagram and if you’re being honest, you’re not ready at all to read anything he has to say.

What if he already deleted every picture he has of you and started posting pictures with her?

That doesn’t matter. You’ve unplugged yourself and you won’t know any of that if it happens and by the time you’re back the process of healing will have started already and then time will pass and everything will be okay again.

Even if right now it seems impossible to believe it.

You take a deep breath and shake your head, physically trying to get rid of those awful thoughts. You’re going to your grandma’s and your baby cousin will be there and she has only four teeth and you’ve been wanting to see her for months.

You’ll be okay.

When you get into the car, you tell your mother that the reason why you are so sleepy and want to rest during the trip is that you woke up in the middle of the night and because you couldn’t sleep again, you ended up watching four episodes of a TV show and now you can’t even stand in your own two feet. She believes you because it’s really not far-fetched for you to do something like that, but it simply isn’t true this time.

You did spend most of the night awake, but it was because you couldn’t stop crying. You never fathomed the possibly of loving someone so much and that person hurting you in such a cruel way, and it honestly broke your heart into a million pieces.

Your first heartbreak. How wonderful.

You used to think that your first heartbreak was going to be with someone you had dated for about a month– someone you weren’t even sure you liked that much– and that would have probably left you because you couldn’t give him what he wanted or whatever. And then you were going to be sad because it had been nice to be with him but you’d be over it in a few days and that would be it.

You would’ve survived your first heartbreak.

And then Peter came along. Sweet, nice, smart, beautiful, attentive Peter. Peter, who made you feel like you were a work of art because he believed it to be so and who made you truly understand how happy you can be when you’re in love with someone who is also your best fr–

It doesn’t matter now, though. You need to get over that and understand that even though you believed it to be true in your bones, Peter is not the person you thought he was. He just isn’t. What he is, however, is a liar and a cheating asshole who probably loved the way you stroked his ego and that’s why he didn’t break up with you.

God, it feels so strange and wrong to think about him like that– to think about him as something besides the nicest person you’ve ever met. But that’s how things are and you’re going to have to get used to it from now on.


Three days.

Eight hours of sleep messily scattered through them.

A black hole inside his chest that can only be filled by the reassurance that you still want him as much as you wanted him a week ago.

A black hole inside his chest that won’t be filled.

It’s Christmas day and Peter hasn’t feel this amount of sadness since his Uncle Ben died. That’s probably the reason why he finds himself standing in front of his grave at 3 p.m. in the afternoon with his hands shoved inside his pockets while he tries as hard as he can to not let the tears fall again.

“Hey, Uncle Ben.” Peter whispers, sniffling softly. “I really miss you, you know?” He lets out a soft laugh as the first tear falls, drying it quickly. “I messed up, Uncle Ben. I haven’t messed up this badly since–” He purses his lips and looks away, because he simply can’t say it out loud. Even after all this time, he can’t. “I– um– remember [Y/N]? I talked to you about her. Well, I–” He lets out a shuddering breath and presses his fingers to his eyes tightly, even though the tears already started falling. “I broke her heart, Uncle Ben, and–” He takes a deep breath because his voice is completely broken, and sniffles a couple of times. “She believes something that isn’t true, but the truth can put her in danger and maybe make her a target for very bad people… and I don’t know what to do.” He squats until he’s on eye level with the name on the tombstone, and traces it with a finger before continuing. “I really wish you were with me right now. You would’ve loved [Y/N] so much. And you’d probably be as mad at me as May is.” He says with raised eyebrows, laughing for a moment until his smile vanishes again and more tears wet his cheeks. “She has every right to and she makes sure I’m alright and she comforts me but I know she’s disappointed and I can’t blame her. She’s right.” He sits down on the cold ground and covers his face with his hands, sobbing openly. “I can’t be without her anymore. I can’t do this.” He shakes his head, looking up again. “I need her too much, Uncle Ben.” He wipes his face with his sleeve and looks down at the ground while chewing on his bottom lip. “I love her too much to let this happen.”


Does it suck to answer every question your relatives ask you about Peter while pretending that nothing is wrong? Yes, it does. It sucks in ways you didn’t even imagine possible. What’s worse, most of them follow you on Instagram, which means they know about every picture you’ve posted with him while saying that he’s the best boyfriend ever– so they have a lot of questions to ask.

You came up with a solution to that: pretend as hard as you can that you’re not talking about Peter. You’re talking about an unknown guy who happens to share the same traits as he does– but unlike Peter, Unknown Guy would have never hurt you the way he did.

So you answer their questions while simultaneously trying to change the subject without them noticing and make it all about you and you alone. For the most part it works, but that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt and it doesn’t keep you up at night trying to hold back tears so you won’t wake up the people sleeping in the same room as you.

However, in the middle of all the bad thoughts and the bottomless pit of despair inside your chest, you’ve found a tiny silver lining. You discovered something: the giggles of your baby cousin are the quickest remedy for a broken heart. Granted, it’s only temporary– but as she smiles with her tiny four teeth while you bounce her in your arms and when she squeals in happiness because you pretend like you’re going to eat her little fist– you think that maybe life isn’t as bad as you thought it was and maybe if you just make sure to be surrounded by the people who love you this breakup will be easier to handle and you’ll feel better in no time.

That is, of course, until it’s Friday night and you’re only twenty minutes away from home– and once again you feel as if your world is falling apart around you.

All the thoughts about Peter that you pushed to the back of your mind come back to you like a tidal wave, nearly drowning you. It’s awful that so many places in this city have good memories of you together– bad memories.

Good.

Bad.

Good or bad?

They are good memories after all– you were happy then– but now they only make you feel miserable if you think about them, so that makes it feel like they’re bad now.

You’re so angry at yourself and at Peter and at life or the universe or whatever because you’re sixteen years old, not twenty six, and you were not supposed to suffer so much because of a relationship at this point in your life– you weren’t supposed to fall in love with someone while being so young. You were supposed to feel puppy love and all that, not this all-consuming fire inside of you that makes your bones ache because Peter doesn’t love you like you love him.

Your body and mind feel too small to contain all of it– you don’t feel ready at all to face something like this. This feels like the kind of thing that someone would experience after years of being in a relationship, not something a teenager experiences after months of dating the guy she likes.

There’s a part of your mind that tells you that maybe you are blowing things out of proportion, maybe this isn’t as bad as it feels and when you’re older you’re going to look back to this and think about how silly you were being– but there’s another part, a bigger and louder one, that tells you that this is as bad as it feels and you won’t ever think otherwise. It will hurt less with time and you’ll heal, but you’ll never think that it wasn’t as awful as you think it is now.

All of this is real.

And the worst part isn’t even losing Peter as a boyfriend– the worst part is losing him as a friend.

Your best friend.

Those talks you had that lasted hours when you couldn’t sleep– when you didn’t want to sleep because it meant you had to stop talking to him– and you talked about anything and everything and shared things with him that you hadn’t told anyone before.

Going to the beach together at night and lying down on a blanket while looking at the stars and feeling his hand reaching for yours because he said that looking at the starts made him feel small and unimportant but when you were with him those thoughts suddenly disappeared and he felt like he could do anything.

Telling him that you felt exactly the same– and meaning it.

The way he made you laugh until your stomach hurt and there were tears in your eyes.

The way he made you feel like the most beautiful person in the world because not only he said it out loud, but you could see the way he felt about you in his eyes.

When did that change? How did you not notice?

Does that even matter now?

“We’re here!” Your mom exclaims, stopping the car and letting out a relieved breath. “God, I’m so tired. I just want to sleep.” You give her a smile and shake your head before taking your seatbelt off and opening the door, welcoming the cold air against your skin. “I don’t know about you,” she says as she gets your bags out of the trunk, “but I’m going to brush my teeth and I am gone.

“Well, it is pretty late.” You agree, checking the time on her phone. “It’s 10 p.m. already.”

“See? The more reason to just go to my wonderful, soft, warm bed and sleep until I wake up.” You laugh and take your bag from her hand as you both make your way inside the building, going up in the elevator in silence. “Home sweet home.” She says, slumping down on the couch. “Oh no, I’m going to fall asleep here if I don’t sit up. I’m going to brush my teeth right now.”

“Ok, I’m going to make myself some tea.” You answer as she disappears, while you wait for the water to heat up.

Your mom comes back to the kitchen when you’re pouring the water inside the mug, looking like she’s about to fall asleep on her feet.

“You good?” She asks, kissing your hair and squeezing your shoulders while standing behind you.

“Yeah, I’m just tired. I’m going to drink this and then I’ll go to bed too.” You reassure her, turning around to look at her with a smile.

“Okay, baby. Goodnight.” She kisses your cheek and starts to walk away. “Don’t forget to turn off the lights.” She says almost as an afterthought, and shortly after you hear the sound of her bedroom door closing and a weight is lifted off your shoulders.

Finally it comes the only time during the day– except for your showers– when you can stop pretending like nothing is wrong and you can finally start acting the way you feel.

You see your phone charger on the table and grab it before turning the kitchen light off, because you already didn’t have much battery left to begin with last week and there’s no way your phone survived the thousands of notifications from the group chat. You open the door to your bedroom carefully while staring attentively to your tea, making sure to not spill anything. You walk towards your bedside table and leave it there, grabbing your phone from your mattress and confirming that, as you thought, it’s completely dead.

You plug the charger and connect it to your phone, leaving it next to your mug and turning your lamp on. Then, you sit down on your bed and take your boots off, throwing them haphazardly to the floor. You rest your elbows on your knees and hold your head in your hands, taking deep breaths to calm yourself down.

Maybe tonight will be the night when you won’t cry yourself to sleep for the first time, who knows?

You stand up to walk towards your clothes so you can change into more comfortable clothes, but for some reason you decide to look towards your window and thank God you covered your mouth with your hand– because if you hadn’t your scream would’ve startled the entire neighborhood.

Your heart is beating a thousand miles a minute but it still takes you a few seconds to realize that the person sitting on the fire escape right outside your room is Peter– and he’s curled up on himself with his eyes closed, trembling.

You can’t move for a few seconds because your body doesn’t respond and neither does your brain– but the moment you snap out of it you run towards the window and open it as fast as you can, waking him up in the process.

“Peter, what are you doing out there?” You shriek in a whisper, wanting to cry because if he was out there it means that he’s cold and if he’s cold he’s suffering and when he’s suffering you are too because you love him and–

You need to stop that.

“I n-needed t-to s-see you.” He stutters, teeth clattering. “P-please. I ha-have s-something t-to tell you.” You get him inside and close the window and the curtains, and Peter slumps to the floor behind you.

“Peter, baby.” The word comes out of your mouth as a second nature, and in that moment you don’t even realize what you just said. You get his backpack off of him and rip the covers of your bed, wrapping him in them and holding him close to you.

Does this make you weak? Maybe.

Do you care about that right now? Absolutely not.

“I s-swear I’m n-not ch-cheating. I s-swear. I’ll t-tell you t-the truth. B-but first l-look inside m-my backpack.” He nuzzles your neck and makes himself comfortable in between your legs.

Of course you’re weak for him– he is your weakness. So you do as he says and reach for your backpack while resisting the urge to kiss his forehead with all your might.

You don’t know what you were expecting to find inside– maybe a box of chocolates and a teddy bear– but it definitely wasn’t a Spider-Man costume. What is he doing with that? That’s not what he dressed up as for Halloween and you don’t know about any parties he could’ve gone to dressed up as–

Wait… where did he even get a costume like this one? The quality of the fabric is amazing and it looks so much like the real one that it almost seems like it is the real–

Holy shit.

This is not a costume– it’s a suit.

“Peter…” You breathe out, looking at the mask in your hands. “What is–”

“I’m Spider-Man.” He confesses in a whisper against your skin. He’s not trembling anymore, at least. “That’s what I’ve been doing every time I cancelled our dates. I– um– I catch bad guys.”

Hold the fuck up now.

What the hell is going on?

Is this really happening right now? Did Peter actually tell you that he’s Spider-Man?

The guy you’re in love with and have been in a relationship with for the past months is actually one of you favorite heroes.

Huh. Life’s funny like that.

“Prove it. Not that I don’t believe you but–” He nods and moves his head a little before getting his arm out of the cocoon of covers he’s wrapped into, and with a flick of his wrist, a white web shoots out and hits a framed picture of you two on your dresser, bringing it towards him. He catches it expertly and hands it to you, nuzzling your neck again.

“I didn’t tell you because a lot of bad people consider me their enemy.” He says as you take the picture from his hand, and slides his arm inside the cocoon again. “If they found out who I am and how important you are for me they could take you away to hurt me. You would be safer if you didn’t know the truth because if they took you away and asked you something you’d be telling the truth and–” His voice breaks and he has to stop to take a deep breath. “I couldn’t not be with you, so making sure you didn’t know about my identity was the best next thing to do.”

“Okay.” You say with a nod, feeling as if you’re in a daze.

Peter is Spider-Man.

Peter. Is. Spider-Man.

So… he wasn’t cheating on you. Sure, he still lied and he shouldn’t have done that but he says that he did it to protect you which makes a lot of sense, actually. Of course, it would be better to not date you altogether if he wanted to keep you safe, but you’re getting upset just by thinking about a situation in which Peter would’ve broken up with you because of that. You know exactly what he means– you can’t not be with him either. Besides, you’re not mad about the fact that he didn’t tell you because you’ve always believed that heroes have good reasons to keep their secret identities a secret, and that’s not going to change now.

He still used you, though. To make May believe that he was with you. But in the bigger scheme of things that hardly feels like something you couldn’t forgive him for, and something tells you he does feel very sorry about it.

But if he wanted to keep his secret to protect you, what changed? Does he not want to protect you anymore?

“Peter?” You say, hand moving unconsciously to his hair. “Why are you telling me this if you wanted to protect me?” Your fingers scratch his scalp just like he loves but he doesn’t answer, and it isn’t until a few seconds later when he starts shaking in your arms that you realize he’s crying. “Baby, don’t cry. Come here, beautiful.”

As you pull his back against your chest and wrap your arms around his waist, you can’t help but think how easy it is to slip into your habits again as if nothing happened.

You spent a week crying about him and now all those memories feel like a blur in your mind, as if they didn’t really happen at all. You realize now how ready you were to be with him again and added to that is the fact that even though you were furious at him– and heartbroken– there was always something telling you that Peter cheating on you couldn’t be possible. The logical part of you was telling you that you weren’t wrong about him– you couldn’t be. Peter had never shown any signs that could even suggest that he was doing something like that– quite the opposite, actually. Even last Friday, you could practically feel his regret coming off of him in waves when he cancelled your date. He’d even started crying, you remember.

You hold him closer to you and nuzzle his neck, hearing his sharp intake of breath when you do that.

“I’m telling you this for the same reason I’ve been trying to keep this relationship even though I was being selfish because I couldn’t give you everything you deserve.” He takes a deep breath. “It’s because I can’t be away from you. It hurts too much.” He turns around just enough to look at you and you finally notice big dark circles under his eyes. “This week was hell, [Y/N]. I couldn’t let you believe there was someone else in my life because that’s just impossible.” A tear rolls down his cheek and you quickly lean forward and kiss it away. He gasps and closes his eyes, and doesn’t open them again until a few seconds after you pulled away, and they’re filled with fresh new tears. “Do you still want me?” He asks in a broken whisper, looking at you pleadingly.

You don’t even have to think about the answer.

“Of course I do.” You reply, moving your hand to the back of neck and closing the distance between your faces until your lips finally connect in a searing kiss.

This kiss reminds you of the first time you kissed after your first date– when you confessed your feelings for each other and there were no problems or lies or broken hearts anywhere near you yet. It reminds you of it because of the fireworks exploding inside of you as if this was the first time you’ve ever tasted his lips– and in some ways you think it is.

This is your first kiss with Spider-Man Peter Parker.

Peter whines into the kiss and opens his mouth for you before starting to wiggle around in his cocoon, trying to get out of it. However, because he’s too desperate he ends up tangling himself inside, unable to move.

“Take it off!” He cries, pouting adorably. “I can’t move.” You can’t help the loving smile that takes over your face because having him sitting between your legs with rosy cheeks and a pout, completely wrapped and trapped inside your blankets, has to be the cutest sight of him you’ve ever seen. You help him turn until he’s facing you, and then start to get him out of his restrains as fast as you can.

When the blanket falls down to the floor behind him and he’s finally free, you don’t have time to say anything before you have him sitting on your lap with his legs around your waist, hugging your neck as he buries his face on your shoulder. You hug him close to you and start rubbing his back, because your mind has finally caught up you and now you’re seeing everything much more clearly.

He’s scared right now– scared of losing you and scared of you getting hurt because of what he does.

“I’m sorry for lying to you and for telling May we were going on dates when we weren’t.” He whispers, hugging you even tighter. “I’m sorry for everything.”

“I know.” You reply, kissing the top of his head. “I forgive you.”

“And I’m sorry for saying that I loved you when I did. That was wrong.” He adds tentatively a few seconds later.

“Yes, it was. You shouldn’t have sai–”

“But I wasn’t lying.” You pry his head off of you and he looks at you directly in the eyes. “I love you.”

“Peter–”

“I wanted to tell you during our date last week, I had planned to take you to the New York Hall of Science because that’s where our first date was and then I was going to say something I had prepared, but then I had to cancel and I couldn’t. I’m sorry.” He apologizes, looking at you with bloodshot eyes and a red nose, sniffling softly. You gently trace the dark circles under his eyes with your thumb, worrying about how little he must’ve slept while you were gone.

“I love you too.” You say absent-mindedly, still focused on his eyes. A small smile forms on your lips. “I was planning on telling you that night too, except I wasn’t going to make it big or anything. I just wanted you to know for sure.”

“Really?” He asks, biting his lip as his eyes glisten.

“Yeah.” You say, making eye contact before pressing another kiss to his lips. “I love you, Peter Parker.” His bottom lip starts to tremble before his tears start falling again, and he rests his forehead against yours.

“This week was terrifying without you.” He says softly, rubbing his nose sweetly against yours. “I couldn’t sleep at night without talking to you. Did I ever tell you that I only sleep well after we talk?”  Your face softens and you kiss him again, and you feel him start to fall back as he practically melts into the kiss, so you join your hands behind your back and make sure to keep him upright.

“I noticed the dark circles under your eyes. How much did you sleep every night?” You ask once you pull away, kissing each eye softly as Peter’s arms tighten around your waist.

“Around two hours, sometimes less.”

“Peter!” You gasp in horror, pulling him towards you. He immediately settles into you, nuzzling your neck again and tightening his hold on you. “Oh, baby.” You murmur sadly, running your fingers through his hair. “How did you catch the bad guys if you didn’t get any sleep?”

“I didn’t. I mostly watched videos of us and cried a lot because I missed you and my chest hurt.” He says, shrugging his shoulders. “And I might have left you a few dozen voicemails and I might have sent you a thousand messages saying how sorry I was and how much you mean to me and what I love about you.”

“Oh, baby…” You coo, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Does your aunt know where you are?”

“She thinks I’m at Ned’s. I’m supposed to be back in a little while.” He whispers, and you don’t miss the regret in his voice.

“The hell you are.” The words slip out of your mouth without you even thinking about them. “You’re sleeping with me tonight. I haven’t gotten much sleep either and I’ll spend all night awake thinking about when I’m going to see you next and besides–”

“I’ll stay.” Peter interrupts, moving away just enough for you to be face to face. “I mean– I– um– I want to stay.” He bites his lip and looks away, like he’s thinking about what to say next. “I– uh– I know I won’t be able to sleep either if I’m not with you and I would really like to–” You cut him off by pressing your mouth against his, and the way you feel his lips turning upwards into a smile makes your heart start beating faster. “But what about your mom?”

“Oh, she’s out like a light. She was really tired. And I know what to do so she won’t wake me up tomorrow. But now I need you to move because I have to change and brush my teeth. And I’ll get some clothes for you too.” When you see the doubt in his eyes you can’t stop yourself from frowning in confusion. “Hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me.” You encourage him while rubbing his cheekbones with your thumbs.

“It’s just that– it’s stupid but– I… um… I really like this position.” The way he blushes and looks away is so adorable that you want to hug him and kiss him and never let go.

“Awww…” You say, feeling warm and fuzzy inside.

“Don’t tease me.” He pouts, but you see him holding back a smile.

“Tease you? I love this position more than you do!” You laugh, grabbing the sides of his face and pressing a hard kiss to his open mouth. He giggles when pull away and blushes even harder, hiding his face on your shoulder. “But I have to get ready and you do too. I’m sorry, babe.”

“Fine.” He groans exaggeratedly, getting off of you with a pout. He stands up and offers his hands to help you do the same, but because he pulls you up with a little more strength than necessary your chest ends up colliding with his– and now you’re close enough that your noses touch. “I love you.” Peter blurts out, biting his lip with a smile before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

“I love you too.” You reply, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him back to you for another one a little more intense. You try to pull away twice, but Peter keeps pulling you back in and you really don’t have it in you to resist right now. You want to keep kissing him as much as he wants you to. It’s only after a considerable amount of time that you manage to pry him off of you, and you’re breathless and he’s blushing and grinning and everything that happened last week feels like a bad dream. “Come on, let’s get you some clothes.”

While you rummage through your drawers, you feel Peter settling behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“I want that hoodie. The big red one.”

“What? To sleep in?” You ask, grabbing it with a pair of sweatpants.

“No. To take it home tomorrow. All your hoodies stopped smelling like you already and I want a new one.” You turn around to look at him with what you know is an expression of pure adoration because of how adorable what he just said is– and he looks at you with a confused frown. “What?” He asks, completely clueless. That only makes it more adorable.

“You are a gift, Peter Parker. You really are.” You say, pulling him in for a short kiss. “But I have to get ready and you do too. I’ll go to the bathroom and you can change here, okay?” He nods and lets you go, accepting the clothes in his hands. “I’ll be back in a little while.” You say, gathering your own clothes and closing the door softly behind you.


The relief Peter feels right now has taken over his entire body– and as he takes his jeans and shoes off to put on your sweatpants he can’t help but grin at the prospect of sleeping next to you tonight. This will be the first night since last Friday when he actually gets some sleep, and to top it all he’ll get to snuggle close to you.

Life can’t get any better.

Once he’s only wearing his t-shirt and pants he grabs the covers from the floor and puts them over your bed carefully, and then sits on top of the mattress to wait for you. You return a few minutes later, wearing a big shirt and pajama pants– and to Peter you look so beautiful that you take his breath away. You smile at him and walk towards your desk, grabbing a black marker and a white sheet of paper before you start writing something he can’t make out from his place.

“What are you doing?” He asks, craning his neck to try and read what you wrote, but to no avail. However, when you’re done you lift up the paper for him and he can finally see what it says.

I STAYED UP LATE WATCHING A SHOW. DON’T WAKE ME UP TOMORROW. I’LL EAT SOMETHING WHEN I WAKE UP. I LOVE YOU

You grab a thumbtack from your desk and walk towards the door, opening and putting the sign up before closing it again.

“And that’s going to work?” Peter asks, unsure.

“Oh, yeah.” You say dismissively, approaching the bed. “I do this every other week. She’s used to it.” You smile at him when your knees touch the mattress, but then you frown. “Oh, my tea.” You say, looking at the full mug on your bedside table. “I completely forgot about it.” Peter snickers and shakes his head when you shrug and grab your phone instead, checking how much battery it has already. “I better turn it on tomorrow. I won’t sleep if I start reading all the messages now.”

“Yes!” Peter says, a little too eagerly. You raise your eyebrows at him questioningly, making him blush in embarrassment. “Sorry, it’s just that I sent so many things…” He smiles sheepishly and you finally climb on the bed, opening your arms for him.

“Yeah? What did you send?” You ask as he wraps his arms around your neck and rests his forehead on yours.

“Well, most of it is pretty repetitive but– um– a lot was about how sorry I was and that I didn’t cheat on you, and how much you mean to me and also a lot of pictures of us and how I feel whenever I look at them… that’s– uh– pretty much it. Yeah.” Your lips capture his right after he says that last word, leaving him breathless. Your fists are clenched on his shirt, trying to pull him closer to you– at least as close as your sitting position and his kneeling allow you– and Peter knows that he could keep kissing you forever, except that he yawns in the middle of it and you have to pull away.

You giggle as he covers his mouth and his eyes glisten, and he can see it in your face that you think he’s being adorable. You have a very distinct look for when you think that.

“Come on, baby. Let’s get under the covers.” You say, getting off the bed. Peter follows suit and shortly after you’re both snuggled close, facing each other. Peter knows he’s going to fall asleep very soon and he wants to– but at the same time he absolutely doesn’t because he wants to keep talking to you and kissing you. “I know you’re falling asleep but I have a few questions I thought when I was in the bathroom.”

“Shoot.” Peter says, right before yawning again.

“Why did you smell like girl’s perfume after you came back from the fake dates?” Peter had forgotten about it; he’s very glad you asked.

“Because I always smell like you after we’re together and May knows. If I came back not smelling like you after a date she’d know something was up.” He answers easily, moving closer to you until his head is tucked under your chin.

“You little mastermind. That was a good idea, baby.” You compliment as you move your hands to his hair, making him smile.

“Do you have another one?” He asks, wrapping his arm around your back and pressing himself closer to you.

“I have a lot of questions but I’ll ask the simpler ones. Where did you get the web?”

“I made it myself.” He answers immediately.

“Of course you did, you beautiful genius.” You say, making him feel extremely proud of himself. “Okay… the last one is a little more personal and it involves me, too.” He moves his head from under your chin to look at you, frowning slightly.

“What is it?” He asks, settling on the pillow.

“Remember back when you were tutoring me, before we started dating?” He nods, encouraging you to continue. “I remember that I told you about having seen Spider-Man up close and how I thought he was a teenager and you agreed and everything but that’s not the point. Do you remember that morning, the day I saw you?”

“Yeah, I do.” He answers, smiling slightly. How could he forget? He remembers how clear it was that you had woken up not too long ago.

“Were you looking at me? Specifically at me, I mean. Did you recognize me?”

“Yes.” He answers honestly. “I don’t even remember other people standing there. I only saw you.”

“I knew it.” You say with a satisfied grin. “Also, come here.” You peck his lips. “That was really cute.”

“Thank you. Anything else?” He asks, yawning again.

“Not for now.” You reply, shaking your head as best as you can. Peter nods and settles under your chin again, inhaling deeply in contentment. “Oh, wait. There’s one thing I have to tell you.” You say, but he doesn’t bother to move.

“Yeah, what’s that?” He asks, feeling himself drifting away.

“I have Spider-Man underwear.”

Well, he’s definitely awake now.


Are you ready?
Peter no, you’ll pick me up in two hours
I know but I’m excited
Are you ready now?
PETER
sorry, sorry. I love you
I love you too, baby
What about now?
PETER FOR FUCKS SAKE
I’M SORRY THIS TIME IT WAS A JOKE 😇
THIS time??? You’re lucky that you’re so adorable
I know that, thank you very much.
I want to see you RIGHT NOW and kiss you and HUG YOU and kiss you
And kiss you again, a lot

Awwww baby I want to kiss you too, but we’ll see each other soon enough
I know, I know
I guess you’re still not telling me where we’re going?
Absolutely not. It’s a surprise.
Fine then
Are you mad?
Omg no baby I’m just really curious
I KNOW but I promise it will be worth it and I know you’re gonna love it
DON’T SAY STUFF LIKE THAT NOW I WANT TO KNOW EVEN MORE
I’m sorry 😞 I didn’t mean to, I’m just really excited
Ok baby I’m going to take a shower
Talk to me afterwards
I will 💖 I love you
I love you more 😇😇😇

You block your phone with a smile on your face, because if there’s one thing Peter Parker knows how to do, that is brighten your days like nobody else has ever been capable of.

It feels weird that in a week the both of you went through an enormous emotional rollercoaster and yet you’re the only two people who know about it– without counting May– because neither of you had told anyone yet before you resolved everything.

The truth ended up being that your boyfriend is Spider-Man, nothing more.

Nothing less.

After your heart-to-heart a week ago and one uneventful New Year spent together just being lazy and repeating how much you love each other over and over again, Peter told you that he had a surprise for you to make up not only for all the dates he missed and for the lies, but also because– according to him– you are the best girlfriend he could’ve hoped for, and you deserve this.

What ‘this’ is exactly… you have no idea.

Peter has been telling you how much you’re going to love it and you believe him, but you don’t know what it could be. The only thing he told you was to dress up nicely and that he had someone that was going to pick you both up this evening, and that’s it. You think that he’ll take you out to dinner somewhere, but that doesn’t explain why he’s so sure that you’ll love it so much. Sure, you would enjoy a nice dinner but it won’t blow your mind– which is why you also think this is not his plan.

And that leaves you with no other ideas.

As you enter your bedroom after taking your shower, you see the screen of your phone light up signaling a new message– but when you go check, you realize that it’s not one message, it’s twenty three.

And all of them are from Peter.

Did you shower already?
Are you ready yet?
Babe
Babeeee
Baby
I ate a potato chip today that reminded me of your face
Oh my god I shouldn’t have eaten it
WHY DIDN’T I TAKE A PICTURE
I’m sorry I ate your face
Anyway are you ready yet?
No answer..
And now?
Did you shower already?
Babe
I love you so much
I was just thinking about how much I love you
I want to watch Star Wars with you again and fall asleep in your lap while you touch my hair
Oh my god I love you so much
Can we do that soon?
Not today though because WE HAVE PLANS
Which leads me to… Are you ready yet?
Ok so you’re not
Talk to me when you’re back pleaaaase

You can’t stop the laugh that escapes your lips as you read his messages, and you shake your head as you start typing a response.

OH MY GOD YOU’RE BACK I CAN SEE YOU TYPING

Peter’s message arrives while you’re in the middle of your sentence, so you erase it and start writing another one that will answer that message as well.

Yes you beautiful needy baby, I am back and laughing at everything you sent
Oh god… I really like that
Me calling you beautiful needy baby? Well, you are
😍 yes
I also have news for you
Really? What is it?
My mom is gone. If you want to come here we can wait together
I’M ON MY WAY
COME THROUGH THE FRONT DOOR I’M NOT DRESSED YET
Ok good to know
See you soon 💙

You leave the phone on your bed and start putting your clothes on, which for now is only your pants and shoes and a nice shirt, because it never takes Peter too long to reach your home. You hear the doorbell while you’re fixing your hair, and you practically run towards the door to open it for him.

“Who is it?” You ask in a sing-song voice.

“The man of your dreams.” Peter replies in a cocky tone.

Thor? Come on up!” You tease, hearing Peter’s offended gasp as you unlock the front door of the building. You’ve already finished with your hair when you hear him knocking, and you take a deep breath before opening the door with a huge smile.

“Thor!” Your smile disappears immediately. “Oh, it’s just you. Come in.” You turn around trying to hold back your laughter, and it’s just seconds after you hear the door closing that you’re pulled back by Peter’s arms against his chest, and he nuzzles your neck while you try– and fail– not to giggle.

“I am deeply hurt by your words.” He mumbles against your neck while you interlock your fingers with the ones above your stomach.

“Oh, what can I do to make it up to you?” You ask, turning around in his arms. The smile on his lips is shining on his eyes too, and you can’t help but return it.

“Kiss me.” He whispers so close to your lips that they almost brush with his. “Hard.”

You don’t have to be told twice; you join your mouths in one of the most intense kisses you’ve ever had with him, and it isn’t too long after that you’re walking backwards until the back of your knees hit the couch that you sit down and pull him down with you– and now he’s straddling you. You feel his smile against your lips and you can only pull him closer to you, deepening the kiss until you have to pull away to breathe.

“Did I make it up to you? Because you have to know you are the man of my dreams.” You say with a smile as you caress his sides, leaning back on the couch.

“Yes, you did.” He whispers in a hoarse voice, leaning forward to rub his nose with yours. You love it when he does that– it means that he feels content and satisfied. “And you are the woman of mine.”

“Okay, needy baby. Let me look at you.” You say, and he blushes dark red before climbing off of you and standing up. In between all the teasing and how quickly you were on each other you didn’t get a good look at him– until now.

He looks incredible; he’s wearing dark blue jeans and a nice sweater with a shirt underneath and a coat that makes him look great. There’s only one problem: his hair is a mess.

“Okay, you look amazing but what’s up with your hair?” You ask, completely taking in the nest he has on top of his head. He smiles bashfully and runs his fingers through it, trying to settle it down.

“I was going to brush it when you said I could come over and– well– I– um– I really wanted to see you, so… I thought maybe you could do it for me.” You join your hands together as your mouth opens in a smile, nodding eagerly.

“Yes! Come here!” You say, standing up and grabbing his hand to pull him with you towards your room.


Peter knows that it isn’t normal that it took you half an hour to brush his hair especially because it was something so easy to do– but he couldn’t stop himself and kept turning around to kiss you and you couldn’t help yourself either and kissed him back, and that took up most of the time spent.

It’s not his fault or yours– it’s just that he loves it too much when you sit behind him and he gets to lean back into you, and one thing led to the other and you simply couldn’t hold yourselves back.

At least now that’s done and you’re trying to finish getting ready yourself– while Peter sits in your bed and watches you attentively. You look amazing in his opinion, even though– as you pointed out– you’re basically wearing the same outfit even though the clothes are different.

He can’t wait to show you the surprise he has for you– he knows you’re going to freak out the moment you realize what’s going to happen.

By the time he gets a text that your ride is five minutes away from hour home you’re already locking the door, ready to go down and wait for it. 

You’re holding his hand when he sees the black car approaching, and when it stops in front of your building and he starts pulling you with him, he can’t ignore the surprise on your face.

This is our ride? Where did you get this?” You ask, climbing in when he opens the door for you. “Never mind, I think I know already.” You say dismissively, waving your hand.

“Yeah, you do know. He did this as a favor.” Peter replies, putting his seatbelt while you put on yours. When he contacted Mr. Stark to ask for this and told him about his plans, he had said to Peter that he could’ve taken care of the whole night, but Peter planned this months ago and had everything figured out already.

He prefers it this way; it feels much more genuine if he takes care of everything else himself.

“I’m a little freaked out by the fact that I can’t see outside.” You say, pressing your forehead against the window and squinting your eyes.

“Oh, sorry. That was my idea. If you see where we’re going you’ll know what we’re going to do.” You raise your eyebrows at him, smiling.

“Okay then.” You say as the car starts moving. “I’m very excited to know what you have prepared, Parker. I wonder if it lives up to my expectations.”

“It will. I promise it will.” He answers with absolute certainty, wrapping one arm around your shoulders.

And he’s sure of it.


You’ve been driving for almost an hour now– even though you can’t say you really noticed the time passing because you were kissing Peter for the most part of it. It’s good that the driver’s seat and the backseat are separated by a black panel that gives you privacy– even though you’re pretty sure that because this is Tony Stark’s car there is no way there aren’t cameras that show the driver what you’re up to. But at least you have a sense of privacy which is better than nothing, you suppose.

“I think we’re almost here.” Peter mumbles against your lips, opening his mouth for you again immediately after.

“I’m pretty good where I am right now.” You reply, pulling a little on the hairs at the back of his neck. He whimpers softly when you do– which only makes you kiss him harder.

“I love you.” He whispers, sliding his hand inside your coat so he can rub your back– and you lean closer to him as a result. “I really, really do.”

“I love you t–”

“We’re here.” You hear a male voice say, making you separate as if you’ve electrocuted each other.

“Jesus Christ!” You breathe out, clutching your chest.

“I’m sorry, baby.” Peter whispers, kissing your temple. “Uh, thank you… sir?”

“I’m not a person, I am merely an A.I. designed to drive this car automatically–”

“Yeah, okay. We’re leaving now. You know when to pick us up. Goodbye.” Peter interrupts, shaking his head. “Go first, babe.” He tells you, getting ready to go out after you.

You don’t even bother to worry about the self-driving car or how cool that is because you’re way too eager to discover what Peter’s surprise is, so you just open the door and exit the car as fast as possible.

You see the lit up sign almost immediately, and you feel as if your heart stopped beating altogether.

Richard Rodgers.

You can’t look at anything else but that sign because if Peter brought you here there couldn’t be for any other reason other than–

You hear a soft cough behind you and turn around only to find him smiling widely, holding something in his hands. Your eyes slowly lower down until you spot two tickets in his hands– and even though you know what they are there’s a part of your mind that simply can’t believe this.

“Are those–” You can’t even say it– that’s how surprised you are.

“Hamilton tickets. For you and me. Because I love you so much.” He says, biting his lip and smiling at you.

You stay still only a few minutes longer before you throw yourself at him– jumping and wrapping your legs around his waist while you kiss his lips and everywhere else your mouth can reach.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” You repeat over and over again as he giggles, burying your face on his neck as he holds you up effortlessly.

“I love you too, but we should get inside.” He laughs, resting his forehead against yours. You nod and jump down, kissing him softly before talking a hold of his hand and pulling him with you.

You can now say, without a shadow of a doubt, that Peter Parker is the best boyfriend in the world.


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  7. queenbellad said: OMG. PART 3 PLEASE. MY HEART IS MELTING WITH THESE STORYY
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