angel cake ♡ tom holland/sebastian stan/chris evans oneshots

After The Storm // Peter Parker

~read the storm chapter for some context before you begin x~

   "Y/n?" Peter whispered, right beside you even though you knew he hadn't slept over. He held his hand over your mouth to muffle the nightmare-induced scream, shakily tucking your hair behind your ears with his other hand just so you could see him properly, so you knew it was him. The room was dark but it was warm, summer night air spilling through your now open window. The fake plant on your window sill had been knocked off, and Peter's Spider-Man mask lay beside it. His face was twisted with concern and he was shaking almost as much as you. You stopped screaming, sitting up in bed and taking him in for another second before collapsing forward, straight onto his chest and sobbing hysterically into his spider suit. He wrapped his arms around you and squeezed, pulling you closer until you were sat on his lap. Tears ebbed onto the material of his suit, your arms shook around his waist, and his chin moved on your head while he whispered to you too quietly to hear.

   "Honey?" Your dad's voice startled both you and Peter, but when he tried to move away and hide in case your father actually came into your room, you just hung onto the front of his suit, silently begging for him to stay close to you. He looked nervous, anxious, but he stayed.

   "Y-" you cleared your dry throat, "Yeah?"

   "Are you awake?"

   "I am now." You said, trembling and letting Peter gently hold your hands, trying to calm you down, watching his mouth form phrases but not let them leave his lips. You knew he was trying to comfort you, and you smiled weakly for him, though you couldn't work out a single word.

   "Did you make a noise just now?"

   "No. No, I didn't."

   "You sure?"

   "Well you just woke me, I might've been talking in my sleep or something."

   "Alright honey. You want me to come kiss you goodnight?"

   "I'm not a kid, I'll manage without."

   "Okay. See you in the morning."

   "Night." You heard the footsteps fade and felt the weird material of Peter's suit drifting across your cheeks, catching tears, and they lingered for a moment. You turned your head until your lips were to his palm and gently kissed it, more out of habit than a need to. He smiled like a little boy, though you could tell he was trying to stop himself, then he carefully stood and helped you up.

   "Where are we going?" You whispered, slipping your arms into a shirt you'd stolen from Peter and slippers. He stuck his head inside the mask and didn't answer, hopping smoothly onto the outside window ledge and helping you do the same, staying stable by sticking a web to the brick just above him. You assumed the same position you always took whenever he went web slinging with you, and he held onto you tighter than he needed to (he knew you worried about being dropped, and he worried about dropping you). 

   "Ready?"

   "Go ahead, spider boy." 

   You watched the mask shift and you could tell he was pouting behind it, and you smiled just a little, then Peter aimed the hand not wrapped around your waist toward a nearby scraper and thwipped his way back to his apartment block. The wind whipped in your ears and any other day you shrieked excitedly and threw out your hands (much to Peter's dismay) and laughed into the fast-moving air, but that night you couldn't even make yourself look at the city whizzing past, just burying your face in Peter's neck and keeping it there.

   He landed lightly on the top of the apartment block and you tumbled forward, Peter smoothly attaching a web to your hand and swinging you back to him before you could hit the floor (the bloody nose you got three weeks ago was very difficult to explain to your parents). You sighed quietly and sat on the edge of the building, legs swaying and head tipped back to feel the beginning of what would be pouring rain fall lightly on your skin. Peter got down beside you, then gently moved you so you could rest your head in his lap and he could play with your hair. He was trying to learn how to braid your hair because he said you looked sweet like that, but you just couldn't be bothered to do it all the time yourself.

   "How did you know to come over?" You mumbled, bliss smothering the still-present, slightly-less-dominant feeling of unadulterated terror.

   "Because of my Spidey Sense."

   "Peter Tingle."

   "Peter Tingle."

   "I thought that was for threats?"

   "Maybe it's for threats... of happiness. For people I love." You opened your eyes again and he studiously kept his gaze on your hair, fingers shaking a lot even for him. You reached up and placed a hand on his cheek, stroking it with your thumb.

   "You love me?"

   Peter blushed, then tried to backtrack. "I mean, like, just in general, that I like, and care for, because I do like you and care about you and I think I maybe love you but like if you don't love me that's cool and I get it but-"

   "No, I love you too." You interrupted quickly and quietly, and Peter looked at you in shock, face showing how obviously he thought you were kidding. You just smiled and he beamed dorkishly back.

   "Shit, I dropped the braid."

   "It's fine, we've got until six before my mom checks on me. Try again."