𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤

Soft Snuggles

Parings → Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings → Fluff, partial nudity, suggestive content, domestic intimacy, light teasing, affectionate.

Summary → After a tiring patrol, Peter comes home seeking warmth and ends up cuddling between your boobs.

          ｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆  ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

Peter silently slips through the bedroom window, his suit clinging to his body, and you can hear the quiet sounds of him rummaging around in the bedroom. You’re curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, waiting for him to finish up so you can see him. There’s the faint rustling of fabric as he changes, and before long, Peter strolls into the living room, now dressed in a simple t-shirt and sweatpants. His hair is slightly messy, and he looks a little worn out from patrol, but that familiar sparkle in his eyes remains as he spots you.

Without a word, he crosses the room and plops down on you, resting his head on your chest with a deep sigh of contentment. His weight is warm and comforting as he melts into you, wrapping his arms loosely around your waist.

"Rough patrol?" You ask softly, threading your fingers through his curls.

"Yeah," Peter mumbles against your chest, his breath hot through the fabric of your shirt. "Some guy was trying to steal a car. Took longer than I thought to handle it."

You hum in response, gently massaging his scalp, trying to soothe whatever tension he's carrying. Peter nuzzles deeper into your chest, letting out another tired sigh, but you notice the subtle shift in his expression. His eyes catch on something, and soon, a mischievous grin spreads across his face.

You narrow your eyes, instantly sensing the change in him. "What are you thinking, Parker?"

Peter doesn’t answer at first. Instead, his hands wander toward the hem of your oversized shirt—his shirt, technically. It's loose and comfy on you, and you didn’t bother putting on a bra underneath. He lifts the fabric just a little, revealing a sliver of your skin.

"Peter," you warn, your voice firm but soft.

"Please?" He pouts, raising his chin to rest it on your torso, his eyes big and pleading like a puppy’s. His lips jut out in an exaggerated pout that you can’t help but find ridiculously adorable.

You sigh, knowing full well you’re going to give in. "Fine."

He silently cheers, his grin growing even wider. Peter pulls your shirt up a little more, revealing your stomach, then all the way up until it rests just under your chest. His lips press against your bare skin in soft, warm kisses, making their way to your boobs. He plants a lingering kiss on each, his breath tickling your skin before he settles back down between them, like he’s found the perfect resting place.

One of his hands reaches up to clutch your right boob, squeezing it gently as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. His thumb moves in small, lazy circles over your skin, and you roll your eyes at his contented sigh.

"You’re such a baby," you mutter, though the smile on your face betrays any irritation you pretend to have.

"Your baby," Peter corrects, his voice muffled as he nuzzles further between your breasts. His eyes flutter closed, and he practically purrs in satisfaction, like a cat curling up in its favorite spot.

"Yeah, yeah," you laugh softly, trailing your fingers through his hair again, feeling him relax even more under your touch.

Peter’s hand gives your boob a little squeeze, and he tilts his head to look up at you, still resting comfortably on your chest. "You’re so comfy," he mumbles, his eyes half-lidded with tiredness but still sparkling with affection.

"You mean my boobs are comfy," you tease, giving his curls a playful tug.

"Yeah, well, that too," he admits with a lazy grin, making you shake your head at how unapologetically adorable he is. He’s a superhero, but in moments like these, he’s just Peter—your Peter.

You feel the steady rise and fall of his chest as he begins to relax completely, his grip on your boob loosening as he drifts closer to sleep. The weight of him on you is soothing, and you find yourself sinking deeper into the couch, your own eyelids growing heavier.

As you both lie there in the quiet comfort of the evening, Peter’s voice breaks the silence once more, barely a whisper. "Love you."

You glance down at him, your heart swelling at the sight of his peaceful expression, and you smile softly. "Love you too, Peter."

Peter hums in response, clutching you tighter as he finally lets sleep take over. You continue to play with his hair, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat against you, and in that moment, everything feels right.

‎∗ ࣪ ˖༺ 𓆩☆𓆪 ༻˖ ࣪ ∗