𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤

Midnight Secret Reveal

Parings → Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings → blood, injury, fluff

Summary → Peter sneaks into your room injured, your mom discovers he's Spider-Man and helps patch him up.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

The clock blinked 1:30 AM in the dim glow of your room as you sat on the edge of your bed, staring at your phone, your foot tapping anxiously against the floor. You hadn't heard from Peter in hours, which was always a bad sign.

Then, as if on cue, you heard the gentle tapping against your window. You rushed over and pulled it open to see Peter clinging to the outside, a weary smile on his face, bruises scattered across his body. He clambered in, wincing as he did.

"Peter, you're a mess," you whispered, guiding him into your room and helping him out of his suit. The familiar red and blue fabric fell to the floor in a heap, revealing the cuts, scrapes, and bruises that lined his skin.

He sighed and sat on the edge of your bed, clad only in his boxers. "Rough night," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly in pain but trying not to let it show. He always did that-downplaying the extent of his injuries, thinking he could just push through the pain.

You grabbed the first-aid kit from under your bed and sat down next to him, your fingers trembling slightly as you pulled out disinfectant and some bandages.

"Why do you always do this?" You murmured, your voice low but filled with concern as you dabbed some disinfectant on a cotton pad. "You never tell me when you're too hurt. You always try to hide it."

He winced when the pad touched a particularly deep cut on his shoulder. "It's not like I plan to get hurt," he replied softly. "And I don't want you worrying."

"Too late for that." You moved carefully, wiping away the dirt and blood from his cuts. His skin twitched under your touch, and you could tell he was holding back more winces.

Peter glanced up at you, his brown eyes soft and filled with guilt. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to-"

"Shut up, Peter," you cut him off, your tone sharper than you intended. "I know you're sorry. I know you don't mean to get hurt. But I still hate seeing you like this."

The room fell into silence as you worked, your hands moving methodically, patching up every bruise and cut you could find. You could feel Peter watching you, the weight of his gaze heavy as he took in your worry, your frustration, your love for him in every gentle touch.

After a while, Peter broke the silence. "I don't deserve you," he said quietly, his voice barely more than a whisper.

You froze for a moment, then looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. "Peter, don't say that. You do deserve me. I just wish you'd let me take care of you more."

"I'm supposed to be the one protecting you," he murmured, leaning his head back against the headboard, closing his eyes. "That's why I-"

"Being Spider-Man doesn't mean you have to do everything alone." Your voice softened as you finished bandaging a particularly nasty cut on his side. "It's okay to let people in. It's okay to let me in."

Peter's eyes fluttered open, and he reached for your hand, giving it a soft squeeze. "I'll try," he promised, though you could hear the doubt in his voice.

Just as you were about to respond, you heard footsteps in the hallway, the creak of a door opening. Your heart skipped a beat, and you whipped your head toward the door, panic rising in your chest.