(by peterbenjiparker on tumblr)
"Oh fuck—"
Your eyes shot open as you heard a groan in the moonlit room. Panic rose in your chest as you scrambled to switch on the lamp set on your bedside table.
Your hands shook as you rolled out of bed, your hand gripping the knife that you kept under your pillow when you slept at night. You turned around at the loud grunt and—
"Peter?"
"H—hi." Peter had his mask rolled up to his forehead as he groaned clutching his side, laying on the floor.
"What the fuck?" You rushed to his side as your knife slipped through your fingers and clattered on the marble floor. "Are you okay?"
Your hands gripped his shoulder, helping him sit up with his back to the wall for support. You pulled his mask off as you wiped his sweaty face, holding his face in between your hands as he smiled at you.
"What the fuck? Are you okay? Why do you always get hurt, dumbass? I swear to god I'll kill—"
"Shh." He brought his finger to your lips and you resisted the urge to bite it off in the blindness of rage. "Don't wanna wake anyone up."
"Dad will freak out if he sees you hurt. Do you think you need to see Bruce?. I think we need to see Bruce. And we have to wake up dad." You pressed the button in the middle of his chest as the suit fell off his shoulder, pooling around his waist.
"It's all better now." He muttered, looking down at his side which was previously hurt. "Super fast healing, yes!"
You pinched his arm and he yelped, rubbing his arm as you threw your arms around him, pulling him close to you.
"Dumbass." You mumbled against his skin as you kissed the crown of his head.
"Your dumbass." He gave you a sly grin as he scrambled to his feet, pulling you up with him.
He looked down at himself as a blush crept up his cheeks and he shifted away from you leaving you frowning until you realized the reason for his sudden shyness.
"Do you have any of my clothes?"
"No. I did laundry in the morning and kept them in your room." You said as you tugged at the sleeves of your sweatshirt as you climbed into bed patting the space beside you. "And we can go get it from your room but dad's probably in the lab and you don't want him to see you like that."
"Can't you go and get my clothes—wait he'll find out I am here then. Don't do that." He rubbed his face in frustration as he sat on the end of the bed hesitantly.
"Why are you so stressed anyway? You've snuck in my room loads of times." You pointed out as you scooted closer to him and he laughed nervously.
"Yeah but—we literally started dating last week. I-I don't want him to think we are doing something bad." He looked down at his hands folded on his lap. "I don't want Mr. Stark to think I am c-corrupting his daughter or something."
"I appreciate the sentiment, babe." You kissed his shoulder lightly as a laugh escaped your lips. "But he knows I am definitely the one corrupting you not the other way around."
"W-what? No, you don't corrupt me." He gave you a weird look and you raised your eyebrows at him.
"Okay. So sneaking out on your birthday and getting drunk off our asses isn't me being a bad influence on you?"
"You were the only one who got drunk and started stripping in public. I was the one saving your ass and got you home. On my birthday." He narrowed his eyes at you and you plopped down on the bed on your back with a huff.
