Perfect imperfections Pairings | College!Peter Parker x Reader (with acne) Warnings | kissing, reader is insecure about acne? Word count | 1.1k Summary | you're insecure about your acne. Peter shows you that you're beautiful to him no matter what A/n | so I see a lot of ficus about things like body size, height etc, but never about acne! As someone that has such awful skin, it can be a huge insecurity that I feel like isn't talked about enough!
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You and Peter had been dating for a little over two months now. You spent a lot of time in his dorm at MIT, which was also where you studied.
Currently, you were curled up on his sofa, body tilted his way as your lips welded together in a needy kiss. Your lips had been massaging each other's for a little over half an hour now, hands travelling and moans swallowed but nothing had progressed. This is how every make-out session went.
And it always left you incredibly wet, and Peter incredibly hard.
Like rock hard. But he didn't push you, wanting to respect your limits as Aunt May had always taught him to.
But tonight, he was going to try and push it further. If you wanted to stop, he'd do so. But Peter had a sneaking suspicion that you wanted this just as much as him. Little did he know, you wanted it more.
Peter's lips left yours, travelling over your jaw in a wet, plump drag. He continued his trail of kisses down to your neck, smirking when you moaned loudly and tangled your fingers in his fluffy locks. You held Peter's head against your skin, moaning a whimper of his name as he sucked and nipped at your throat.
He pulled away with a proud smirk, eyes sliding over the red mark on your skin. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, looking up at you for a moment; head thrown back against the sofa cushion and mouth parted in a silent moan.
The boy took it as his chance, letting his warm hands sooth under your long-sleeved shirt and tickled against the bare skin of your waist. At the contact, you seemed to jump, hurriedly pulling your shirt down and scooting away from Peter.
"What's wrong? Did I do something?" Peter began to ramble, hands running through his hair nervously, "I-I never meant to make you feel uncomfortable, I just- I'm sorry." He finished and you pressed your lips together.
"No! You didn't do anything, I just..." you mumbled, guilty that Peter had assumed he'd done something when really it was your insecurities behind your actions.
"You just what?" Peter asked softly, brows barely furrowed as he tucked a strand of hair behind your eye. You averted your eyes, a sheepish expression on your face.
"You don't want to see what's under there." You muttered, but Peter heard.
"Why not? I'm sure you're beautiful, y/n." Peter spoke firmly, but kindly, letting his fingers run over your cheek in a soft caress. You shook your head and Peter sighed. "If you're not comfortable I won't make you do anything, but I'd love to see you. All of you." Peter said, leaning closer until his nose bumped yours. "Let me show you that you're beautiful."
Caught up in the moment, you nodded. But instead of his lips pressing yours like you anticipated, a squeal erupted from your throat as Peter hauled you up and across the room. It still stunned you how strong Peter was; after all, he was fairly short and always wore baggy clothes, so it was hard to tell what was really going on underneath it all.
He stopped when you were in front of the tall mirror but his bed, your back to his chest as his hands rested on your hips. His lips pressed to the back of your neck, a hand pulling your hair over one shoulder to give him better access.
Peter sunk to his knees behind you then, fingers hooking over the hem of your shirt. Your breath hitched, hands clenching at your sides as he slowly lifted the fabric. A gentle sigh slipped passed your lips as Peter placed a lingering kiss to the base of your spine, where he'd revealed the bare skin.
He continued this, kissing up your spine until he reached halfway up your back. He stopped taking the shirt with him and just pulled it over your head, throwing the garment on the floor beside you before turning to your back again.
You closed your eyes tightly when he paused, not touching you as his eyes scanned over your bare back.
"You're so beautiful." He mumbled after a moment, and you released a breath that had caught roughly in your throat. "So fucking beautiful." His lips were on your skin again, plump and plush as they feathered against every spot, every blemish that rained your skin. His fingers ran over your shoulders; feeling the far-from-smooth skin as they traced over the pimples and scars.
As he reached the top, hips lips still fluttered against your marked shoulders, his hands finding your still closed tight at your side. He laced his fingers into yours, eyes looking up at your through thick lashes into the mirror.
"Open your eyes." Peter whispered. You let your eyelids flutter open, meeting Peter's brown orbs as he gazed lovingly at you through the mirror. "You okay?" He mumbled, going back to his kissing.
"Y-yeah." You gasped weakly, biting down on your lips and chewing nervously. "You don't think I'm- you don't think I'm ugly?" You asked hastily, the words toppling over one-another. Peter paused, straightening up and turning you to face him.
He let his hand text on your cheek, fingers dancing over the pimples that lined your jaw, your cheek. He smiled warmly, fondly, as he stared deep into your eyes.
"I could never think that. These imperfections that you see as ugly? I see them as character; proof that you're human." Peter murmured, the tip of his nose tickling against yours. "Everyone has their flaws. Flaws are what make you you." He punctuated his statement with a strong kiss to your lips, his hands cupping your face as yours tangled into his hair.
"I love you." You panted against his lips as he pulled away, anxious at his response. When his lips lifted into a boyish grin you let out a sigh of relief.
"I love you too." Peter beamed, pulling you back into him, his lips tangling with your in a kiss that stole the air from your lungs.
