“no, no, no, no, no–what are you doing ned? you’re supposed to hide–” peter yells into his headset. he is frustrated, you know that but the harsh voice pierces into your ears, the pounding headache only growing as you climb out of bed.

the door is ajar, and you catch a glimpse of him, eyes never leaving the screen as he mutters a string of profanities into his head set at his team mates.

you rub the sleep out of your eyes, stepping into the living room, grateful that his voice woke you up before it could get any worse….

“no…no! that’s not what you’re supposed to. harry!” he handles the controler roughly, “dude, c'mon–” you place a gentle hand on his shoulder and he stops.

his head jerks up to look at you, harsh words at the tip of his tongue until he sees your innocent face, and the anger dissipates in a matter of seconds.

“y/n,” he says your name, a delicate whisper. in stark contrast to his harsh tone he used for his friends. he reads your expression and his brows furrow at how red and puffy your eyes are.

he turns away from the screen, the headset now hanging around his neck ignoring the yells from his friends to focus on the game.

and he reaches out a hand for you, you lean in, letting him press his palm to your warm cheek. “what’s wrong?” he asks, with worry in his eyes.

“bad dream,” you say, crawling into his lap before he can get another word out, before he can question you.

you rest your head against his chest, your cheek pressed to the soft material of his sweater. his hands come down to rub your back as you nuzzle against his collarbone. “jus’ wanna be close to you.”

“hey,” he pats your head affectionately, “do you want to talk about it–shut it, ned, I’m not talking to you!” he says aggressively into the headset before switching back to the sweet tone he has reserved for you, “y/n?” he kisses your hairline, “want me to come to bed with you? will that make you feel better?”

“no,” you snuggle further into his chest, and angle your neck up to press a reassuring kiss on his lips. “you can play.”

“are you sure, sweetheart–? no, no! harry, no I’m not getting head–we can go to bed, baby, you look exhausted.” he coos, but you grab the controller, and hand it to him.

he acquiesces, and you watch the rosy hues dust the apples of his cheeks, harry’s words registering in his mind at last. but you spare him the embarrassment and decide not to bring it up.

instead you kiss his cheek with a shy giggle, “love you, pete.”

he grins down at you, “love you so,” he says as he presses consecutive kisses on your cheek, “so, so, so much more–no harry. I’m not declaring my love for you–”

ahh thank you, it definitely did! i hope you enjoy <3

GN!reader, 1.2k words

There are some days, you’ve decided, that are just unbearable. Burnout creeps up on you until all of a sudden you can barely get out of bed, let alone drag yourself through a workday. But there’s bills to pay, and rent to make, so you force yourself to go. You’ve been picking up extra shifts to try and earn some extra cash, but it’s not making you any less stressed out—and neither is the fact that those extra shifts are making it even harder to see your boyfriend.

Spider-Man’s work is important, vital even, so you can’t really fault Peter for not being available at night when you finally manage to make it home. Sure, you worry sick about him at least two nights a week. And sure, you miss him like a limb when you go a week and a half without seeing each other for more than fifteen minutes at a time; who could blame you?

You muster the strength to make it up the two flights of stairs to your apartment, dragging your feet the entire way. You feel, you decide, more like a toddler in need of a nap than a grown person with a job and a home and a boyfriend. Maybe Peter will be home, you allow yourself to hope halfway up the first staircase, but by the time you’ve hit the landing you’ve dismissed the thought. NYC is a demanding mistress, especially these past few days. Periodic spikes in crime are the norm; they just normally don’t correspond to the spikes in your own personal work stress.

And even though you don’t resent Peter for being Spider-Man, even though you are always overwhelmingly proud of him for his bravery, his heroism—you can’t help one selfish thought: I wish I could see him tonight. Like maybe, if he wrapped you up in his arms, it would ease your exhaustion.

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I’LL BE HERE WHEN YOU WAKE UP

sleepy confessions may be just what the two of you need to take your friendship to the next level. (friends to lovers)

tasm!peter x fem!reader

tw: kissing

a/n: sorry this took like five fucking months to do i’m the worst. PLEASE REBLOG!!!

*not proofread*

masterlist

EVERY TIME YOU SLEEP OVER, Peter is out like a light by 10 pm. No matter how hard he tries, he always ends up falling asleep. Especially if you’re next to him.

He feels horrible about it, but he really can’t help it. Peter loves spending time with you, and he hates to ruin all the fun by possessing the sleep cycle of a geriatric man.

You don’t mind—in fact, you’d rather him rest than watch a movie or play a card game. You’re super understanding of his exhaustion due to his responsibilities as both a Midtown student and NYC’s busiest superhero, Spider-Man. Plus, cuddling with your admittedly cute best friend is never a bother.

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