she was the light

Me: *finally sits down and reads Terry Pratchet’s Monsterous Regiment.*

Me: Is there anyone is this army who isn’t secretly a woman with a sock stuffed down the front of her trousers?

Characters:

Saying Things

Peter Parker x Reader

So this is for the precious, most adorable person @dej-okay because she deserves only good things.

Summary: You’d lost count of how many times you’d thought of kissing him. You had never let yourself imagine that maybe, he thought of it, too.

“Or how badly I’ve wanted you like this,” and he didn’t have to explain what he meant…”

Warnings: None. Just A LOT OF FLUFF AND CHEDDAR CHEESE. Words: 3.6k


“Parker,” you cautioned as he not-so-gingerly picked up the beaker that was mostly full of blue liquid that resembled and even smelt a little like Windex, shaky hands bringing it over to your side of the lab table, mixture sloshing around the insides, goggles beginning to steam up around his eyes from how heavily he was breathing, tiny rogue hairs from fallen waves at his forehead fluttering as warm puffs of air escaped from the spaces between funny eye wear.

It had taken the two of you nearly half an hour to mix the contents in said beaker just right, waiting for the telltale appearance of that crystal blue to color the glass and signal the correct chemical change.

You’d both laughed excitedly as you’d watched with anxious eyes, two pairs of goggles level with the table; forgetting that you were still holding glass tubes and going in for a high five, catching yourself with a sheepish expression just in time. He’d offered an air five instead.

“Peter, carefully,” you urged when the clumsy boy caught a sneakered foot on the corner of the table, neon blue peeking at the edge of its container as it swayed inside, nearly raining down on top of the shiny black below it.

“I know, I know, I’ve got this,” a tiny smirk following his words, and you found yourself believing him despite the sound of glass clanking together as he began pouring that blue liquid into the compound you’d just finished mixing up. The puffs of air fogging up both of your goggles stopped as blue hit green and you held your breaths, the whole feel of him changing when that red precipitate formed in uneven clumps at the bottom of the beaker. Bubbly laughter spilled from his lips in a rush of air as the tension released from his lungs and the smile that lit up the whole of his face kept you from doing the same, kept you from breathing, and you weren’t sure if you would ever be able to bring yourself to draw air into tingling lungs again if he were going to smile like that around you, at you.

Because he was looking at you with the sun in his eyes and happiness making up the whole of his features in a way that warmed your heart entirely and made your body feel sluggish and uneven like the mess of chemicals in that beaker. The longer you looked, the more aware you became of how the color of your cheeks must match the color of that clump, and oh, but his eyes were glowing, and you were glowing, and his lips were pink and stretched prettily across white, mostly-even teeth in that charming way that only his lips could.

And that was the first time you realized that Peter Parker was someone that you could kiss. Peter Parker was someone you wanted to be kissing.

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