Spider Watch - Peter Parker

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As requested by anonymous: Can I request some Peter Parker fluff.?? Please??

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When Peter told you he was going to get his wisdom teeth removed, you immediately jumped at the chance to accompany him.

"You're not gonna film me while I'm high off Vicodin are you?" He asked suspiciously as Aunt May drove you two to his dentist's office.

You scoffed, "What? No, Peter! I won't do that. I promise!" unbeknownst to him you were crossing your fingers.

You, Aunt May, and Peter sat in the waiting room until a dental assistant was ready to take him. His leg was bouncing ferociously, shaking the couch that the three of you sat on.

You placed your hand on his knee, "Peter, chill. Everything is gonna be fine. You'll be put under and you won't be feeling anything. Aunt May and I will be here the entire time."

"Peter Parker?"

Peter tensed up and looked back at you, "Can you walk with me to the room?"

You turned to Aunt May, who gave you her nod of approval, "Okay," you stood up and grabbed his hand. His grip was tight and you felt like if he squeezed any harder, he might break your hand.

"Alright, Peter. Just sit in this chair and your doctor will be here soon. Unfortunately, no one else can be in this room."

You nodded and kissed Peter's cheek, "You'll be fine. I'll see you out there." you gave him a wave before exiting the room. Peter gulped in fear.

"Miss Parker?" you and Aunt May stood up as the doctor approached you both.

"Yes?" she gave a polite smile to the dentist.

"Peter's surgery went off without a hitch. He's starting to wake up now, and he'll still be a little bit droopy from the Vicodin. Here is a bag of gauze to replace what he has in his mouth currently. You may take it out after about an hour. If it continues to bleed, just stick more gauze in there. I also provided a pamphlet with all the do's and don'ts post-oral surgery. If you have any more questions or concerns after you've left, don't hesitate to call."

"Okay. Thank you, doctor. Can we see him now?"

"Of course! Follow me!"

When you entered the room, Peter's head rose slightly, eyes catching yours, sorta, "Heeeeey! It's mah girfwen! An' mah Aun' May! I'm hahee."

You couldn't help but giggle, running your hand through Peter's brown tresses, "Hey, handsome. You ready to go home?"

Peter giggled and dopily smiled at you, "Hehehehe. You call me hanthome."

You bit your lip to prevent you from laughing, "'Cause you are, Peter. We're gonna put you in a wheel chair and Aunt May will take us home, 'kay?"

He slowly nodded, "Okay, girfwen."

It was a little hard to get Peter into the car. He kept trying to run away because he said he needed to catch some bad guys.

"I'm a thuperhero!" he kept yelling. He was about to blow his secret identity, but you and Aunt May pretty much threw him into the car, shutting the door, and quickly buckling him up.

Aunt May just chuckled nervously, "I bet you hear some crazy things through this line of work." the male nurse that helped you and Aunt May bring Peter snickered.

"Ma'am, you have no idea."

It was pretty much smooth sailing from there. Peter laid in the backseat of May's car with you, his head resting on your lap. He was staring up at you, his fingers occasionally reaching up to touch your face.

"Pwetty," he'd mumble.

His eyes then went wide and he got really excited, tapping your arm really hard and fast, "Y/N," slightly butchering your name because of the gauze in his mouth, "Y/N, did you know I'm Spiwerwman?"

You snorted, smiling down at Peter, "Yeah, babe, I know."

"I make webth and climb wallth and fight bad guyth."

"I know you do, Pete, and I'm proud of you."

"I like being Spiwerwman."

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Peter plopped onto the couch in the living room of Aunt May's apartment. His eyes closed but his head swaying as he sung some song he made up, "Spiwerwman, Spiwerwman. Thoes whatever a spiwer can."

You and Aunt May laughed as he continued to sing his own theme song. Aunt May then grabbed a bag of frozen vegetables, handing it to you. You then placed it onto his face, "This is for the swelling, "Peter."

He groaned, "Don't wike it. Cold."

"I know it is, but babe, you gotta keep it on your face or you're gonna look like a chipmunk forever."

His eyes widened as he pushed your hand away, taking over to holding the frozen bag to his face. You giggled as he looked so scared for his life. As he continued to sit there, humming his own made up theme song, you pulled out your phone, tapping on snapchat and begin to film.

"Hey, Peter. How you feelin'?"

He shakes his head, "I don' wan' be a thipmuck!" he exclaims pointing to the bag on his face.

You stop recording, watching the playback and then posting it to your stories and also sending it to Peter.

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For the rest of the day, you helped Peter change out his gauze, drink water, eat a little bit of chowder, and take his painkillers. During that time, he still remained his high and goofy self. Trying to use pickup lines that you couldn't really understand, belting out Celina Dion's My Heart Will Go On while sobbing, and clinging onto you like a koala.

Eventually, it was time for you to leave and Peter was feeling a lot better. He'd taken a nap, and the pain of his surgery was numbed by the medication.

You kissed his unswollen cheek, "I gotta go, Peter. I'll come by tomorrow to see how you're doing."

"Okay. Thank, Y/N." he waved at you, still too groggy from the meds and nap to get up. He watched as you walked out of the apartment, Aunt May closing the door behind you.

The next day, you wake up to see a string of texts from Peter:

Peter: YOU PROMISED YOU WOULDN'T TAKE ANY VIDEOS!

Peter: YOU'RE A TRAITOR!

Peter: I DIDN'T EVEN THINK I KNEW ALL THE LYRICS TO CELINE DION!

Peter: wait until you get your wisdom teeth out...

To which you replied with a simple kissy face emoji.

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