𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤

Failed Breakfast

Parings → Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings → fluff

Summary →Peter's Valentine's Day breakfast attempt fails, but love and laughter make the day perfect.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

You woke to the sharp, blaring sound of the fire alarm, its shrill ring cutting through your peaceful sleep. Groaning, you flung the blanket off and rubbed your eyes, trying to make sense of what was happening. The smell of something burned wafted into the bedroom, the unmistakable scent of disaster brewing in the kitchen.

Stumbling out of bed, you made your way to the source of the chaos. As you turned the corner into the kitchen, the sight that greeted you was nothing short of a mess.

Peter stood in front of the stove, frantically waving a towel at the smoke billowing from a frying pan. His hair was disheveled, cheeks flushed, and he looked utterly panicked. Burnt pancakes-if you could even call them that-sat in the pan, a blackened mess.

The fire alarm continued to blare overhead, adding to the pandemonium, and you couldn't help but sigh. "Peter," you mumbled, voice still groggy with sleep. "You know you can't cook. Why do you always test the fire alarm?"

He whipped around at the sound of your voice, eyes wide with guilt. "I was trying to make you breakfast in bed!" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with a mix of frustration and embarrassment. "It's Valentine's Day, and I thought-I don't know, I thought I could do something nice for you."

You couldn't help the small smile that tugged at your lips despite the scene before you. Peter's heart was always in the right place, even if his culinary skills were... well, nonexistent. Crossing the room, you stood on your toes and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. "You're sweet, but I've told you before-you're a menace in the kitchen."

He huffed, finally managing to turn off the stove and silence the fire alarm with a quick thwip of webbing to the button. The silence that followed was almost deafening, the smell of charred pancakes still hanging heavy in the air. "I just wanted to make you something special," he muttered, looking down at the ground like a chastised child.

You wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your head on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek. "You already are special," you reassured him softly. "You don't need to cook to prove that."

He glanced down at you, his lips twitching into a reluctant smile. "Still, it was supposed to be this whole cute thing. You wake up to breakfast, and we eat together, and then, you know... more Valentine's Day stuff."

You chuckled at his sheepish tone, pulling back to look up at him. "We can still do all that," you said, brushing some ash off his cheek. "Minus the pancakes, maybe."

Peter groaned, running a hand through his messy hair. "I just really wanted to make today perfect for you."

You tilted your head and raised an eyebrow. "Who says it's not perfect? I woke up to the love of my life attempting to cook for me-granted, nearly burning down the kitchen in the process-but it's still pretty adorable."

He let out a soft laugh, his arms sliding around you, pulling you closer. "Adorable, huh? That's one way to describe this disaster."

You grinned, standing on your toes again to press a lingering kiss to his lips. "I mean it. You don't have to try so hard, Peter. Every day with you is already more than I could ask for."

His expression softened, his eyes locking onto yours with that familiar, lovestruck gaze. "You're too good to me, you know that?"

"And you're a giant sap," you teased, pulling away to grab the spatula from his hand. "Now, let's see what we can salvage."

The two of you worked together to clear the mess, Peter mumbling apologies under his breath every now and then as he helped you toss the ruined pancakes in the trash. You decided to keep it simple after that-a few scrambled eggs and some toast. Nothing fancy, but at least nothing would end up in flames.

As you stood side by side at the stove, Peter wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. "I guess breakfast in bed is a no-go, huh?"

You leaned back into him, the familiar warmth of his body comforting. "We can still eat in bed," you suggested with a smile. "Just... maybe without the burnt pancakes."

He hummed in agreement, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. "Deal."

Once the food was ready, you both piled everything onto a tray and made your way back to the bedroom. It wasn't the elaborate breakfast Peter had envisioned, but as you sat together under the covers, laughing and feeding each other bites of eggs and toast, it was perfect in its own way.

Peter was still a little bummed about his failed attempt, but you could tell his spirits were lifting with each passing moment. You reached for his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Valentine's Day isn't about the big gestures," you said softly, meeting his gaze. "It's about spending time with the person you love. And I wouldn't want to spend it with anyone but you."

His eyes softened, and he leaned in to kiss you tenderly. "I love you," he whispered against your lips, his voice full of warmth and affection.

"I love you too," you replied, your heart swelling with happiness.

As the two of you lay there, tangled together in the sheets with the remnants of your makeshift breakfast beside you, you realized that even the smallest, most imperfect moments could be perfect-because you were with him.

‎∗ ࣪ ˖༺ 𓆩☆𓆪 ༻˖ ࣪ ∗