: Peter! :

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s m u t~

plotline: you're waiting for peter in his room after school, but he comes in his suit, badly wounded. you didn't know he was spider-man, and peter didn't know you were in his room.

he's eighteen. this takes place during Far From Home.

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Y/N's POV:

I sat on the edge of Peter's bed, my toes dangling over into the open air. Where was Peter? I'd been waiting for almost two hours, but I couldn't exactly leave. I needed to see him, and I had a strange feeling that something was...off. Of course, the time I come to confess my feelings, he isn't there.

I tugged at my long shirt, emblazoned with "I lost an atom yesterday" joke. I looked at myself and sighed. "Maybe I shouldn't have come here right after swim." The only things I was wearing was a pair of shorts and a long shirt, other than my underwear.

Suddenly, I heard the window rattle open behind me, and I leapt back. I managed to try and blend into the wall, as I saw...

Spider-Man?

The red and blue hero crawled along the ceiling, but I did notice the fact that he kept his weight off his right leg. I nearly screamed when I saw him throw his mask off, and gently web the door shut.

Peter?!

That thought was quickly overridden by the fact that there was a long, bleeding gash down the side of his cheek, and his lip was bleeding. What had happened to him? I noticed that he took his suit off, and before I could react, he turned around.

Holy fucking shit. Peter Parker, nerd and quiz enthusiast, had a six-pack? And he was Spider-Man?

I stopped myself, before letting my gaze stop at a nasty looking cut across his thigh, and a few bruises on his chest. Peter gasped. "Y-Y/N, this isn't how I w-wanted you to find out, I-I'm so sorry," I stood up from my spot on the bed, and rushed over to him. He opened his mouth, but I placed one finger over his lips and pushed him toward the bed.

"Pete, you need to sit down. Did you notice how hurt you are?" He only let out a raspy groan, and fell onto the bed, his chest rising and falling unevenly. I let out a low scream, and dashed to his side.

"Pete! Peter! Where's your first aid kit, dork? C'mon, Pete." I whispered into his ear. He lifted a hand, and pointed to a low cabinet below his desk.

I sprinted over and tossed the door open, being greeted by an abundance of supplies.  I picked them all up in my arms, and walked as fast as I could over to the bed. I laid them down beside his body, and took notice of the supplies.

Bandages.

Anti-bacterial wipes,liquid, and sprays.

A whole first-aid kit.

A pair of thin scissors.

An ice-pack, which was somehow frozen.

I picked up the anti-bacterial spray, and looked at Peter, just then noticing the angle we were at.

Peter was laying on the bed, his head resting on his pillows, and I was essentially straddling his waist, my hands posed over his chest with the spray. I blushed lightly, and took a few breaths. I tapped Peter's toned upper arm. "Pete...this might hurt." I noticed his minuscule nod, and carefully started to clean out the cut on his chest, wincing as he let out a low hiss.

Without thinking, I pressed a light kiss to the skin over his heart,and kept going, my face bright red.

Peter's face basically glowed red. I managed to clean and wash out the cut with some water, and I wrapped the wound up with a sterile white cloth bandage, telling myself: One down, a fuck ton more to go.

I moved downwards, grazing my fingers over the large gash on his inner right thigh, wincing in unison with Peter. I looked at him critically. "Peter Benjamin Parker, you better explain after I heal and fix you up." He nodded, exhaling sharply as I sprayed down the cut, rinsing the edges with water and wrapping it in a white bandage, which stood out, a stark contrast to his tanned thigh.

I moved upwards a bit, so I was basically sitting beside his chest, looking at his face. Now that I had fixed the gash on his thigh, everything seemed a bit more doable. I dabbed a little bit of anti-bacterial liquid on the cut on his right cheek, fixing his gaze nearly the entire time.

I placed a soft cotton ball over the cut on his lip, dabbing at it with some water, removing all the blood from his lower lip. He let out a low hiss, and winced at the pain once, but shoved it down.

I glanced at the cut, trying to ease some of the tension between us. Even I could sense it, packed hard into the room like the air we were breathing. I fixed a small bandage over the cut, leaning closer to him, nearly a breath away from his lips.

I could feel every breath and exhale of air from his lips, causing me to hold my own bated breath.

Suddenly, Peter's left hand shot up, and entangled in my hair, pulling me those critical two inches closer to his lips, and connected with mine like a puzzle.

His warm (and slightly swollen) lips covered mine, easily winning the battle for dominance occurring within my mouth, leaving me bracing my hands against either side of his head.

Eventually, my hands gave out, and I shot downwards to lay gently atop Peter, our lips still connected, Peter's hands roving over the back of my t-shirt. I softly tangled my hands into his chocolate brown curls, tugging at the strands.

I felt his hands trail down my back and travel back up, where his fingers traced a trail along my sides that made me shiver slightly. Peter gently licked my bottom lip, and I let him explore my mouth, and I let out a low moan into his mouth.

smut in the next part!!!

~L

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