tom holland oneshots

the May to your Ben P.P.

best friend!college!peter parker x stark!reader; wc:1k (fluff)

—

Maybe it was typical for Peter to be studying on a weekend, but it was definitely a little weird that he'd study on a three-day weekend. He'd stayed out later than usual on patrol, and of course he was still a bit tired even after sleeping in a few hours, but he knew he needed to study now or he'd never get these physics concepts down.

You had joined him on the shaggy, soft rug, sitting beside his seat on the floor. He'd already been working for a good two hours by the time you showed up with a tray full of snacks and your favorite movie on disk. You were sipping some lemonade, the sound of Peter scribbling away on his paper with a simple blue pen echoing slightly. Your movie had ended, and now you were watching Bucky and Steve play ping pong in the corner.

Peter's brain was fried, but with you there he didn't see a reason as to why he couldn't take a break. He was already finished with his homework for the next week, having just prepared himself for the next lessons. Closing the cap of his pen, he set it in the crack of the book, watching as you made side comments and giggled at a few of their mistakes in playing table tennis.

Even through your giggles and gurgles, he could hear the New York rain pitter-pattering on the windows and pavement, thundering down on the concrete jungle that was the city. The rain soothed him yet terrified him all at once. Suddenly he realized you were wearing one of your rainy day outfits, as you had called them. You were wearing his grey sweater. The realization made him blush. He looks at his lap as he fiddles with the tie of his grey sweatpants.

You patted your knee as you laughed at Bucky's failed attempt in scoring a point. Peter's eyes marvel the shape of your voice, your jawline and smooth smile, your eyebrows and your nose too. He focused on the beat of your heart, smiling at how fast it was going. He cherished your laugh, and suddenly wondered why he never had the courage to ask if you felt as strongly for him as he did for you.

Maybe it was your dad, he often thought to himself. But he also realized that was a stretch. He loved Peter, but hated the idea of his baby girl growing up and getting boyfriends or girlfriends. He wanted you safe, but he also knew he was a certain exception. Peter was different, that was for sure.

Maybe it was the fear of losing you. Of hearing the soft rejection, empathy lacing your tone as you told him "Peter, you know I love you, but-." He didn't want to hear those words from your mouth ever in his life. He feared what your friendship would become if you didn't feel the same way, if this love was all one-sided and every clue was just in Peter's head.

Maybe it was the realization that once he voiced his feelings, they'd become real. Of course, he knows they're as real as ever in his head, but when somebody else knows, there's no going back. Not that it would matter, because he knew it was probably obvious to anyone that could read Peter well, to anyone from the outer perspective. He had suspicions that Wanda and Clint were gossiping about when the two college kids will get together, but he never brought anything up. Especially in front of you; he could barely keep his cool around you anymore.

His heart beated wildly, his palms grew sweaty and his lips failed him as he stuttered erratically, exponentially. You made him nervous, and yet, he loved the feeling. He loves the way you make him feel; he wants to feel it forever. He wants it to be his new normal. He wants you to be his new normal.

"Petey?" You bring him out of his head and into the reality that is the world.

He blushes upon realizing that he was staring at you, thinking about how strongly he feels for you. Scratching his neck, he dares to glance up into your eyes.

"Yeah?"

He realizes the rain has grown a bit louder, thunder and lightning coming regularly. You look as if the unexpected noises and flashes have momentarily frightened you, and suddenly, he knows what you need. He opens his arms, inviting you into his embrace.

What he doesn't expect is for you to sit directly into his lap. It doesn't bother him, no, it never could, but it does surprise him. You nuzzle into his neck, and Peter's heart aches at the affection. He wants meaning behind the touches and lingering gazes. He wants there to be more.

"Y/N?'

"Yeah, Petey?"

He clears his throat. "Have you ever... felt so strongly for someone that it scared you?" He feels your hums against his chest and collarbone. He shivers.

"Yes." He swallows thickly. "Why? Do you feel that?"
"Yeah," he breathes out the confession with a sigh. "I do."

You pick your head up to look at the brown-haired boy. "Really?"

He nods. "Sometimes... sometimes I'll just- I'll just stare at her for hours and think about my feelings. They're so strong; May thinks I've found my Ben Parker." Your eyes widen at the name drop of his late uncle. Peter never mentions him, and though you're noticeably taken aback, he doesn't falter or stutter, but instead keeps the confession going.

"Does... does she feel the same?"
"I don't know."

You sigh, looking up at him. He marvels at you, eyes lost in your orbs. He's quiet for a good few minutes and suddenly, you realize he's been staring at you this entire day.

"Petey?"
"Yeah?"

For once, you look into his eyes too. "Am I the May to your Ben?" Your fingers trace the hem of his sweater. "Because you're the Ben to my May."