Underwear (Part 1)
Summary: You show up at Peter’s with a cut that needs stitches in a very intimate place.
Word Count: 4357
Warnings: 1 tiny mention of abuse, injuries, very light smut, light swearing
After stripping from your suit, you step into an alleyway, trying to get into your street clothes as quickly as possible without hurting yourself further. Your adrenaline high had ended about five minutes ago, and your injuries made sure they were given attention.
You groan as you hoist your backpack onto your shoulder, feeling the cut there protest under the pressure. You had just taken care of an attempted bank robbery, and there was a team of six. Your combat skills were improving, but there’s only so much a teenage Stark “intern” could take.
You needed to get somewhere safe and fast, but you lived all the way back at the compound. Peter… his name was the first and only one to pop into your head. He was your best friend, and he lived just a few short blocks away.
Most of the injuries you had were covered by your leggings and zip-up hoodie, but how you were going to explain the bruise on your cheek and the cuts littering your face, you had no idea. Your hood was pulled up, and you ducked your head down to avoid any prying civilians.
You clench your fists in your pockets as you tried not to grunt in pain, trying your best to focus on your steps. You make your way into Peter’s building, your stomach tightening and your breathing becoming lightly restricted as you think of what could possibly happen. To your luck, the elevator ride was completely unoccupied.
You slow your walking as you make it to Peter’s door, biting your lip as you eye it. Deciding on an idea, you pull out your phone and called him. Taking a few steps down the hall as to avoid being heard, you waited as it rings a few times before the line picks up.
Y/N? You sigh in relief as his voice fills your ears, ignoring the butterflies and small blush that flows through you at his sound. Peter… You speak softly, feeling your nails dig into your palm as you clench your fist, leaning your head against the wall at the end of the hallway.
Y/N? What’s wrong? You heard the concern in his voice and picture him running a hand through his hair, something you notice he does when he’s nervous. You try taking a deep breath but couldn’t, noting that you had probably cracked a few ribs.
I um… I got into a bit of a fight and I’m hurt- can I come over? I’m really sorry to intrude… It’s j- Peter’s voice cut through yours, quickly taking over. It used to bother you but now you found it cute. Yeah of course! Are you okay though? What happened? Did you finally fight Flash? He teases at the end, making you let out a small laugh.
You squeeze your eyes shut and moaned softly, immediately regretting your action. Are you sure? I really don’t want to intrude on you and May…“. You always envied their bond, the strength it had after his parents and uncle had passed away. You were asking Peter mainly for reassurance, despite the help you needed you felt like a huge burden. Your father was nonexistent and your mother had been abusive, leading you to take charge at fourteen and become emancipated.
Your powers had developed at around twelve, leaving you to figure out what to do with them. You were “gifted” with the ability to manipulate fire, along with an increase in strength. All Peter knew about your childhood and living situation was that your mother was abusive, and that you lived with roommates.
“Please come over… May left for work tonight and she’ll be gone for all of Saturday and Sunday too. You’re scaring me and I want to make sure you’re okay.” You feel butterflies flow through you at his words, breathing lightly with a small grin on your face.
“Thank you so much… I owe you one.” You began walking to his door, trying to figure out how you were going to explain you fast you got there. Um… Peter? You wince, half because you were in a lot of pain, and half because you felt embarrassed.
You begin rambling, trying to get your words out as fast as possible. “What would you say if I’ve been here for a few minutes because I got hurt in your area and I didn’t want to just show up and intrude on you so I called to get permission and now I don’t know what to do.”
You finish your ramble with a deep breathe, moaning out as you felt your ribs demanding to be tended to. “Y/N! Peter scolds you, “You’re hurt and you’re my best friend! Please just knock on the door next time!” You raise an eyebrow and hang up the phone, knocking on his door and turning so that your back was facing him.
The door opens and you hear Peter’s bewildered voice. “What the-Why am I looking at your back? Turn around.” You slowly raise your hands as if surrendering, wanting to warn Peter of your face. “I’ll turn around, but you have to promise not to overreact, okay?”
You hear Peter sighing loudly and muttering a quick “Fine.” You wince, turning and pulling your hood down, allowing him to see the full extent of your facial injuries. You had a large cheek bruise that was forming and cuts on your jaw, and above your eyebrow.
Pursing your lips, you look at Peter with wide eyes, anticipating his next move. Just seeing him in person made you want to grab and hold onto him. He looks shocked, his mouth slightly falling open and a small gasp escaping his mouth, his eyebrows furrow and he ushers you into the apartment.
“What happened to you?” Peter asks quietly, shutting the door. That was what scared you. Throughout your entire friendship you had known him as the boisterous and outspoken one. Even when speaking quietly there was almost always a trace of amusement on his face.
This time however, his voice was barely above a whisper, and his face contained what looked like anger and terror, his jaw clenching. You let out a shaky breath, responding with as much sincerity as you could muster. “I got into a fight. It hurts a lot.”
Peter breathes in through his nose, nodding at you. “Okay. Let’s get you patched up and then we’ll talk more about this "fight” of yours, okay?“ You bite your lip and curtly nod as he pulls you into a hug, cautiously minding your body.
You feel your heartbeat speed up as you duck your head down, trying to hide the blush on your cheeks. "Can we go to your room? I know no one else is here but it still feels weird to do this in your living room.”
Peter places a hand on the side of your face, staring deeply into your eyes as he maintains a serious look. You look back up at him, matching his gaze.
“That’s what she said.”
He bursts into laughter and you’re stunned, smacking him with your hand as you join him in laughing, sucking air through your teeth as you groan lightly. “I’ll admit that was a good one Parker.” You grunt through gritted teeth, only to be met by a curious gaze.
“I’m pretty sure I’ve cracked a few ribs…” Peter’s eyes widen as he lifts your bag, walking you to his room. “Crap! I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to hurt you.” You offer him a toothy grin, groaning as you sit on his bed. “That’s okay Peter, you didn’t know. Besides, a "that’s what she said” joke is worth it.“
Pausing, you stare at Peter expectantly, raising an eyebrow when you realize he hasn’t gotten the message. "Peter, I’m gonna need to take off my clothes so I can see what I need to fix. Do you wanna help me, or?” You wriggle your eyebrows, causing his cheeks to tinge a light pink.
“N-no! I mean I totally would, but- Wait no! Actually forget I said that! I’ll wait outside.” He stutters out, leaving the room and shutting the door behind him. You walk over to his mirror and begin undressing, stripping until you’re standing in just your bra and underwear.
Lightly prodding your abdominal area, you hiss out in pain as you realize you’ve cracked what must be two ribs. Your stomach is covered in bruises, and you can feel cuts on other parts of your body. You turn around, craning your head over your shoulder to see where the rest of the cuts are.
Aside from a few scrapes, there’s one particular laceration that you’re sure will need stitches. Unfortunately, it’s all the way at the top of your thigh, and there’s no way you could reach it without damaging yourself further. You groan, placing a hand on your face as you realize what you’re going to have to do.
Due to your slightly sped healing, some of the pain has faded. You walk over to your backpack. Pulling out your first aid kit, you bite your lip as you think if you can really ask Peter to do this. You could manage without stitches, but then you risk infection, and it’s better to be safe than sorry.
Pulling on your tank top, you reach into your backpack again, taking out a towel you normally use to apply pressure to wounds. Wrapping the towel around your waist, you take the first aid kit and feel your nerves working themselves over.
You step into the hallway, carefully making your way into the living room, where Peter seems to be on the phone. His back is to you, so you shamelessly check him out. “Great so it’ll be here in ten minutes? Thank you, have a good night.” He places the landline phone back into its holder and turns around, jumping when he sees you.
“Hey! I just ordered a pizza, it’ll be here soon…” Peter blushes when he takes in your appearance, his eyes raking up and down your body. “Um Y/N… why aren’t you wearing pants?” His eyes snap up to yours as if he’d been caught, trying to maintain just eye contact.
You nervously tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, taking a breath. “Well here’s the thing… Have you ever done stitches before?” You anticipate his answer, waiting for him to look at you like you’re crazy. Little did you know how his “Stark internship” required him to learn some first aid skills.
Instead you’re met with an apprehensive smile, one that reminds you why you like this boy so much. “Yeah I have- do you need some help?” Now it’s your turn to blush, not knowing if this would turn extremely awkward or extremely intimate. Probably a bit of both.
“I do- there’s this cut but it’s right above the back of my thigh, so you’d have to be touching… there.” You add clumsily, feeling your blush deepen. “Oh. Um… yeah that’s fine, I could totally do that.” Peter exaggerates, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter.
“Great! Here,” You step forward, giving him the first aid kit. Walking over to Peter, you release a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding and take the towel off, leaving you in a tank top and your underwear. Gathering the courage to face him, you slowly turn around, looking at him through guarded eyes.
“It’s um,” You turn and point to the gash, “Right here.” You could hear Peter swallow and take a few steps forward, feeling your heart thunder in your ribcage. “What position should you be in? I can’t stitch you up if you’re standing…” Peter mumbles, feeling just as awkward as you.
You consider his question, momentarily forgetting that you’re standing in front of the guy you like in your underwear. You could go on the couch, but your skin would fold weirdly and make the stitches that much harder to do. The wound needs to be very lightly stretched, so that the needle could get in and out with ease.
You squeeze your eyes shut and purse your lips together, placing a hand on your forehead. Without saying anything, you take a shaky breath and walk over to the counter where Peter is, leaning your forearms on the marble and arching your back, moving your legs back so that the wound is exposed.
You turn your head to the left and look at Peter, whose gaze seems to be on something other than your cut. Temporarily forgetting your embarrassment, you become impatient, gaining back some of your sarcastic personality. You cock and eyebrow, clearing your throat to get Peter’s attention.
His eyes dart to yours, his mouth slightly parting as he breathes heavily. “Peter,” He hums in recognition and swallows, “as entertaining as having you staring at my ass is, can you stitch me up and stare later please?”
He audibly gasps, and his entire demeanour has you using every ounce of self control to stop from kissing him right then and there. “Yeah of course! I wasn’t- um… okay I’m just going to go here…” Peter moves behind you, kneeling so that he could get a better view of your cut.
Holding the needle and thread between two fingers, he clutches the towel in his left hand and uses his right hand to pour rubbing alcohol onto it. He carefully presses the dampened rag to your cut, causing you to arch your back even more.
You hiss out in pain, trying to focus on something else. “Sorry! I’m sorry…” Peter apologizes, quickening his pace and after a few seconds taking the rag away. “It’s okay Peter, you’re just helping me. Thank you.” You soothe him, feeling guilt for forcing him to stare at your ass.
“Most of the bleeding’s stopped now, but it’s still safe to stitch so the scar isn’t as big.” He explains, and you nod, still feeling awkward for having Peter’s face inches from your rear. “This is gonna hurt…” He mumbles, finally piercing the needle through your skin.
You grit your teeth and groan, clutching the edge of the countertop as Peter apologizes over and over again. He works quickly, finally finishing his work after a minute. By the time he’s done, you’re out of breath, faintly panting.
You turn around to thank Peter, holding out a hand so you can help him up. He gladly takes it, smiling at you. Without warning you pull him into a hug, minding your injuries. “Thank you so much Peter.” Mumbling into his shoulder, he seems shocked but responds, moving to hold you close. Not wanting to leave the moment, you stay there, until you feel something and freeze.
“Peter… Are you pointing a gun at me with a third arm or are you just happy to see me?” You ask casually, biting your lip to suppress a fit of giggles that threaten to leave your mouth. Peter immediately pulls away, opening his mouth as if coming up with an excuse, but shutting it.
“What’d you expect me to do? You’re standing in your underwear!” He exclaims, waving his arms forward for emphasis. Peter’s a blushing, stuttering, adorable mess, and you cross your arms over your chest, finally releasing a small chuckle and instantly regretting it. “I can’t blame you… Anyway, my legs are cold so I’m gonna go put pants on.”
You brush past him, not having to look back to know his eyes are on you. “Wait,” he calls out, rushing to walk ahead of you and into his room. You follow him in warily, watching him with curious eyes as he shuffles through his drawers. “Aha!” He pulls out a pair of sweatpants.
Walking over to you, he holds them out, and you graciously take the grey cotton, hugging it to your chest. “I figured your leggings’ll be uncomfortable with the cut, so you can borrow these.” You grin, nodding at Peter. “I’ll change into these fast so that you don’t get too excited.”
He chokes up, pointing at you accusingly. “Y-You-” You cut him off by placing a kiss on his cheek, pulling back to be met by a stunned Peter. “I’m kidding. Seriously, thank you for everything. You’re amazing.” He beams proudly, showing you all his teeth. “I know I’m amazing Y/N, but thank you for the compliment.”
You cock an eyebrow, deciding to pay him back for the playful arrogance. Without forewarning, you turn around and bend over as much as you can without hurting yourself, giving Peter a full view. After waiting a few seconds you shrug on the sweatpants, turning around and staring at him as if nothing happened.
His jaw is slackened and his breathing is audible, his pupils dilated. “Something wrong Parker?” You smirk, turning around again to grab your wallet, discretely tucking it into your pocket so Peter wouldn’t see you trying to pay for the pizza. After you’ve walked past him and into the kitchen, you hear his voice from behind you. “You’re evil…”
Before you can reply, the sound of the doorbell echoes through the apartment, so you rush as fast as you can to the entrance. Despite Peter’s protests you open the door, greeting the delivery man with a smile. He must be around your age, his posture looks unprofessional and he looks like he’s bored out of his mind, until he occupies himself with staring at your cleavage.
“Evening ma'am, pepperoni pizza for a Peter Parker?” His eyes leave your cleavage and move to the boy who now flanks you, his arms crossed in a defensive stance. “Yeah, that’s me.” Sensing the tension, you pull out your wallet, gaining back the pizza boy’s attention. “How much?” You ask, opening the clip.
“That’ll be 12 dollars miss.” He hands the box to Peter, a pompous smirk painting his features. “And maybe I could get your number too?” He adds, no remorse or hesitance to his words. You glare at him as you pull out the exact amount for the pizza, thinking he doesn’t deserve any extra.
Upon realizing this, his eyebrows knit together and a small frown crosses his face. “No tip?” You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Do you really think I’ll give you a tip after you blatantly check me out and then proceed to ask for my number? Leave. Now.” He flares his nostrils and storms away, leaving you to shut and lock the door.
You turn to face Peter, who’s already in the kitchen getting two plates. “Can you believe him? What an ass…” After receiving no response you saunter over to the counter, placing your crossed arms on the marble in front of you. “You okay Parker?”
When he turns around he’s holding two plates with pizza, and his jaw is clenched. “What’s wrong?” You ask, taking a plate from him and motioning for the both of you to go to Peter’s room. Once the two of you are seated cross-legged on his bed, he speaks quietly. “It’s nothing, I just didn’t like the way he spoke to you. But that doesn’t matter, I need to know about your fight.”
You put down the slice of pizza you had begun chewing on, swallowing thickly. You hadn’t said anything about the Stark “internship”, due to the possibility of Peter connecting the dots and figuring out where you actually lived. “It was just a mugging, but don’t worry. I’m okay, see?” You gesture to your body, but that doesn’t seem to convince the person sitting in front of you.
“Why don’t I believe you?” You expect him to be angry, and that would make it so much easier to defend yourself, but he just looks hurt, concerned for your safety. “I don’t know, okay? How come you can ask me about this but I never ask about your Stark internship?”
You had pieced together that Peter was Spider-Man when he started running off for his “internship”, but you wanted to hear it from him. You did have plans to confront him about it since you were done waiting, but then the robbery took place and your plans changed drastically.
Peter still looks hurt, and the guilt washes over you like a cold spray of water. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Peter, but there was still that sense of insecurity that held you back from telling him your secret. He was quiet, something about him you kept finding unsettling. “What if I told you why I run off then? Would you finally tell me why you keep doing the same?”
You take a bite of pizza, taking some time to consider the outcome of both your revelations as you chew. Maybe if you could muster up the courage to tell him about the root of your injuries, you could also throw in that you have a massive crush on him. It’s all or nothing, Y/N. You mentally prep yourself, silently nodding at Peter.
He stands, taking a broomstick from near his doorway and jamming it into the square panel on his ceiling, watching you with anticipation as his suit falls out. “This is what the Stark internship really is, Y/N.” You smile up at Peter from your seated position, your lips turning up even more as he tilts his head to the side and parts his lips at your reaction.
“Why aren’t you more surprised?” His question is simple, and you can’t wait to watch his reaction when he sees that your situations are quite similar. “Because,” You place your plate onto the floor, lightly groaning as you do so. Grabbing your backpack, you unzip it and pull out your suit, standing and holding it in front of you. “Of this.” You finish, hiding your face behind the cloth.
Pulling it down, you see Peter’s bewildered expression and explain further. “I’ve got the same sort of Stark "internship” as you, when I got here I had just covered the nearby bank robbery.“ His mouth parts in a silent Oh as he takes in the new information.
"So you knew I was Spider-Man?” You nod, folding the suit and placing it back into your bag, unable to stop your rambling. “Yeah, and I didn’t confront you because I wanted to hear it from you. I did have plans to talk to you about it tonight because I was getting tired of you not knowing I knew about you being Spiderboy but then there was the bank robbery and I came here because it wasn’t safe for me to go all the way back to the Stark compound. By the way that’s where I live. My ”roommates“ are actually the avengers. Anyway, then I came over here and practically shoved my ass in your goddamn face and I’m freaking out because I really like you.”
You finish with a gasp, panting as you try to regain your breath. Peter’s eyes are as wide as saucers as he attempts to process all the information you just forced down his throat. From all the things you told him, he seems to focus on one particular thing.
“Y-you like me?” His mouth slightly parts and you feel your heartbeat quicken, the blood rushing to your cheeks. “I um… Yes. I like you a lot. As in, I find you really awesome and when you walk into a room I want to make out with you.” You gasp loudly, slapping a hand onto your mouth. “Did I really just say that?”
Peter’s expression goes from one of surprise to one of joy, a huge, almost nervous grin taking over his features. “Yeah you did. And lucky for you Y/N, I-I find you awesome too.” You take a step forward, looking up at him. “What are you gonna do about it?”
He stares down at you, his pupils dilating just as they had when he saw you in your underwear. He places a hand on the side of your face, using his thumb to tuck some hair behind your ear. “This.” He leans down, pressing his lips to yours.
You respond instantly, moving your lips in sync with his as you take a few steps forward, pressing him against his now-closed door. His other hand rests on your hip, too apprehensive to move down any further. You move it for him, eliciting a small groan when you gently grab his wrist and place it on your rear.
He gets some confidence and gently squeezes, pulling a soft moan from your lips. You grind yourself against his body, taking your other hand and placing it behind his neck.
After about a minute, the two of you pull away for air, locked in a lustful gaze as both of you inhale deeply. Not knowing what to say, Peter says the first thing that pops into his head. “I think you should come over more often.”
You lift an eyebrow and snicker, composing yourself before pressing your forehead to his. “Agreed. One hundred percent. Except maybe we should wait a bit before either of us take our pants off.” He chuckles smoothly, tenderly pressing his lips to yours again. “If you say so.”
You look behind you, staring at the pizza that’s been abandoned on the floor. Turning back to Peter, you look at him guiltily. “As much as I like you Parker, I like pizza a lot too.” You turn away, kneeling down to grab a slice before handing another one to him, your smile widening as he returns your expression, shaking his head at your antics.
“Hey Y/N, does this mean that Spider-Man and Y/S/N are gonna be the new dynamic duo?” The two of you sit back on his bed, right across from each other. “I think you mean Spider Boy, Parker.” You mumble through your pizza, watching with amusement as he feigns outrage, placing a hand over his heart.
“That offends me deeply Y/N, you’re lucky I like you.” You finish chewing and swallow, leaning forward and giving him a quick peck on the lips. “You’re lucky I like you too Parker.”