Spider-Man Imagines II

You And Him | Peter Parker (TH)

okay so i posted my writing schedule for the rest of this month for The World Is Quiet Here, but i'll go ahead and update y'all on my schedule for this book.

tomorrow i will start a brand new infinity war series. i'm not set on an exact number of parts yet, but i'm definitely going to be able to squeeze some, hopefully all, disney themed requests in before i leave for my walt disney world trip.

i will officially be gone from May 22nd to June 3rd.

here is an unrequested older!peter x reader. light angst, lots of fluff, just what i felt i needed.

//

Peter Parker's story was the same as nearly every other superhero's. He lived in complete and utter fear of losing his girl.

Day after day, he tried to assure himself that you were safe. Yes, you could drive yourself to and from work. Yes, there was an alarm system hooked up in the house. Yes, you had him on speed dial if something went wrong.

But he always circled back to worrying. Was the alarm on? Had you been kidnapped on your way to your car? Did your phone die?

He didn't want to seem controlling. He hated thinking that he might come off that way.

He just wanted you to be safe without you knowing that he was worried sick about you day and night.

As Peter finished up his rounds around the city, you finished making dinner. You took the taco meat off the stovetop and grabbed a spoon. You lifted spoons of the seasoned beef into the corn shells. Peter liked extra jalepenos on his.

The knob of the front door jiggled as a key was shoved inside. It opened and you heard Peter's shoes thud lightly on the floor. You turned and looked at him, smiling. "Hey, baby. Just in time for dinner," you said. "It's taco night."

He disappeared quickly for a moment, not even greeting you. You turned and gave him a weird look, but shrugged and went back to sprinkling some cheese across the tops of the tacos.

When he came back, you looked at him again. He seemed stressed out.

"Everything alright there, babe?" you asked him, starting to feel a little concerned.

"The curtains were open," he said.

"Oh, they were?" you asked.

"Uh, yeah," he said. "___, anyone could have peeked in. They could have decided to rob us for some of our stuff or broken in and hurt you-"

You laughed a little. "Pete, honey, I'm okay. I must have forgotten to close them after I had coffee. You know, I remember now. May called me before I even finished."

"Just please be careful," he said, sighing. "Be so careful."

You put the pan of meat back on the stove and grabbed two cans of Coke from the fridge. "Is someone after us?" you asked.

"No," he said. "Not that I know of. Why?"

"Because you're acting a little different," you said. "You have been for a while, baby. What's wrong?"

"I haven't been acting different," he lied.

You rolled your eyes. "Pete. Honey. I know you. I know you call May and ask if she's talked to me lately. I know you swing by the house twice a day. Don't you think I see you when I'm having my cup of coffee at the window? I know, Peter." You smiled and shook your head. "So cut the crap! What's going on? Why are you so stressed out?"

"I'm just worried," he admitted. He pinched the bridge of his nose and inhaled deeply.

"About..." you pressed.

"You," he said. "You being without me."

"I can ta-"

"No, I know!" he bursted. He wasn't mad, but obviously aggravated. "I know that you can take care of yourself. And I'm not trying to be one of those husbands that gets so obsessed and protective that he acts like his wife is super weak and helpless. I swear that I'm not. But I - I think of how many times Tony almost lost Pepper. And then I think of how she lost him." He shook his head and stared at his feet. He kicked his shoes off as if he just remembered that he was wearing them. "I just - I think about you being alone all of the time. I think of me not being able to tell if you're safe. It kills me. Losing you... losing you would kill me."

He collapsed in a kitchen chair and huffed. He ran a hand through his messy, wind blown hair.

"I'm just sorry," he whispered.

"Peter," you said gently, walking over to him. You knelt in front of him, placing your hands on his knees. "I know that you're worried about me. Don't you know that I worry about you all day, too?"

"Yes," he breathed. He reached out and stroked down your cheek with the back of his pointer finger. You smiled. "I just love you more than life itself. I want you to be safe."

"I want the same for you," you said, "but we can't choose that for us. We just have to enjoy what we have when we have it. Now, I don't want you to worry, really. And you should know that I pack a really good punch and always have my pepper spray with me."

"I know," he replied, smiling. "You're the toughest girl I know."

"Tougher than Black Widow?" you asked, grinning.

He snorted. "Yes, definitely."

You got up on your feet and leaned in, giving him a peck on the lips. He hummed and you pulled back.

"The tacos are getting cold," you said.

He turned around in his seat. You sat down and grabbed his hand from across the table. You rubbed your thumb across his knuckles.

After a few bites of dinner, as you spooned some salsa out onto his plate, he said, through a mouthful of lettuce, cheese, meat, and shell, "I bet Black Widow doesn't make tacos like this," he said.

"I bet not," you said. You swallowed a drink of Coke. "Oh." He looked up at you, eyebrows raised, and smiled. "Speaking of - I invited Natasha and Bruce over for dinner on Sunday..."

He loved moments like this where he never had to worry about you being safe. It was just you and him, in your own little bubble.