rebellionsrising:

• You making him laugh at any cost
• “Are you seriously asking me this right now?”
• “Tom, it is not a hard question…Does the Spidey suit ride up?”
• “I’m not answering that.”
• “Ok, fine…Chaffing then?”
• Tom wanting to cuddle 99.9% of the time
• Long walks on abandoned trails with Tessa
• Dance offs with him in the kitchen
• Helping him train for his roles
• “Babe, I love you, but I was born to sleep, a simple push up is like climbing Everest for me.”
• Tom always blushing when you compliment him
• Watching movies together on the couch entangled in each others limbs under a fluffy blanket
• “TOM!  STOP STEALING ALL THE BLANKET!”
• “But I’m cold!”
• “Your mum’s cold.”
• “What?”
• “What?”
• Him always wanting to be the ‘gentleman’
• “May I kiss you?”
• “Tom, you never need to ask.”
• Slow dancing to the radio
• Gentle kisses on your collarbone
• Running in the rain
• Him being over protective and claiming you’ll freeze to death
• “Stop worrying and come and jump in this puddle with me.”

spiderking-of-queens:

Pairing: Peter Parker/Reader

Word Count: 2,628

Synopsis: The reader is Peter Parker’s girlfriend, remembering Peter through the years and how his glasses came to be.

Warnings: Mild language and brief mentions of death.

A/N: Hello again! I’m not sure how I feel about this one, but I felt like Peter’s glasses deserved an origin story. I basically just came up with this because I’m crossing my fingers that we’ll see Tom Holland in glasses at some point in Spiderman: Homecoming. Every line break is a shift in the timeline. Sorry if it gets confusing or choppy! Hope you guys enjoy 🙂

---

You stared at your boyfriend Peter from the foot of his bed as he worked on his calculus homework. You observed the way he composed himself when he was concentrating: one elbow on the table, cheek in hand, pen cap in mouth, pen clutched in his grip. You watched as he tapped the pen on the surface of his desk and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He was unbelievably fidgety whenever he was trying to focus. It was fascinating to watch him as his brain worked. You could have done it all day.

It was so hard not to stare at him while he was wearing those glasses. You hadn’t seen him wear a pair in years. The first time you had seen him wearing any was when you were both in first grade. He used to love to wear his father’s reading glasses wherever he went. You almost laughed at the thought of the huge frames that always slipped off of his face. When he found out that he needed an actual pair of glasses instead of just his father’s, he threw a huge fit. You specifically remember comforting him as he sobbed over it.

---

You were sitting in the park in front of your old houses. Before his parents died, you two lived in neighboring townhouses in Queens. Peter had just returned from the eye doctor with a shiny, brand new pair of brown cognac-colored glasses. You smiled when you saw them, but frowned as soon as you noticed that he looked immensely unhappy. He plopped himself on the bench next to you with his arms folded and told you the whole story through his tears.

“Petey, it’s okay,” You cooed after he had finished, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“No it’s not, Y/N. I don’t like these glasses. I want my dad’s back,” He wailed.

“But these are way better. They won’t fall off of your face now. Why do you want a pair of dumb old glasses you can’t see out of anyways?”

He sniffled and wiped his tiny nose on the sleeve of his sweater.

“I don’t know,” He mumbled.

But he did know, and you did, too. All Peter wanted was to be exactly like his father.

“Well, I like these glasses. They seem more… you.”

That was your six-year-old way of saying that Peter should try less to be like his father and try more to be like himself. He sniffled again, his tears beginning to cease.

“You think so?”

“I do. Besides, I think you look much more handsome in these.”

You could recall the exact shade of red his face turned when you pressed a kiss to his cheek. He didn’t have a problem wearing them for a while after that. This was one of your earliest and favorite memories of you and Peter.

When his parents died, he placed his father’s reading glasses and his mother’s old locket in his nightstand for safekeeping. You wondered if he still kept them close.

Peter wore his new glasses proudly for the next several years. It was only until Flash Thompson began to bully him in middle school that he started to hate them again. It pained you to think of it, but you pinpointed the exact day that he decided he would never wear them again.

---

It was sixth grade and you and Peter were both in the prime of your awkward stage. You were still inseparable, just as you had been as children. You had almost every class with him except for science, which was unfortunate for you. The day was halfway over and you and Peter had happily gone off to your lunch break. You were both sitting in the cafeteria eating your lunches when Flash came out of nowhere.

“Hey, Parker. You going to eat that?” He asked with a sneer, taking the contents of Peter’s tray before he could even say anything.

“I was, actually,” He mumbled angrily under his breath.

“What did you say to me, four eyes?”

Peter stared down at the sticky cafeteria table and kept his mouth shut, his face turning red in a combination of embarrassment and anger. He was smart to let this go so Flash would give up and leave you both alone, but you couldn’t let him get away with being cruel to your best friend.

“What’s the matter with you, Flash? Why do you have to be such a jerk? He didn’t do anything to you.”

“Y/N, let it go,” Peter hissed under his breath.

“Are you such a wimp that you have to let your girlfriend speak up for you?” He taunted.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Peter said nervously.

“I’m not his girlfriend,” You said at the exact same time.

“Of course she’s not. Who would ever want to date a dork with glasses?” He laughed hysterically at his own mean joke and walked away, taking a huge bite of the apple he had just stolen from Peter.

Peter pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, keeping his gaze glued to the tabletop. You opened your mouth to say something to comfort him, but he spoke up before you could.

“Don’t, Y/N, I’m fine. I’m just going to go. I’ll see you later.”

He got up and left without looking at you. You felt so horrible. If you had just kept your mouth shut, Flash would have kept his juvenile taunting to himself. You wanted so badly to wrap your arms around Peter and tell him it wasn’t true – that you thought he looked wonderful in glasses and that you would like him no matter how he looked. But you were a shy tween with a crush and couldn’t bring yourself to admit it to him yet. Of course he liked you, too. You just wouldn’t find out about it for another few years when you were both freshmen in high school. But that was another story.

You tried to talk to him about what happened many times, but he always changed the subject whenever you brought it up. A couple of weeks after the incident, Peter made an appointment to get contacts and never wore his glasses to school again.

---

Now you were both juniors in high school. You had been through so much together since the beginning of high school. He helped you through your parents’ divorce and the move to another home while you helped him through the loss of his Uncle Ben and the discovery of his super powers. It took him a while to tell you about them, but you understood that he was just trying to protect you. He mentioned that when he realized his abilities, he discovered that he didn’t need glasses or contacts to see anymore. However, he had a little trouble keeping everything in focus.

“Sometimes it feels like my brain is a computer that’s trying to analyze too much data at once,” he explained to you while sitting in his small bedroom one day. “Like it might just crash one day.”

He had called it ‘spider senses.’ You rolled your eyes when he said this. Peter loved coming up with his own Spider-Man terms and catchphrases. He was the dorkiest superhero in the world, but you loved him for it.

A few months ago, Tony Stark made him a special kind of glasses that would help him focus his powers better during his daily life. They were almost identical to the ones Peter had as a child; the same warm brown color and square shape. Seeing them made you wear the same grin as when you saw them for the first time at six years old, too. He had tried them on for you the first time last week in the safety of your bedroom. He explained how they worked, but you didn’t understand a word of it. All you got from his demonstration was that the technology in his new glasses was similar to the technology in the eyes of his Spider-Man suit. Science was definitely not your thing, but you could listen to Peter talk about it all day. The way his face lit up when he explained how things worked was well worth it. When Peter was Spider-Man, he used his mask to help him be more charismatic and outgoing, and that was great. But when Peter was just Peter and he was talking about physics or chemistry or calculus, you could see that the world made perfect sense to him. He didn’t need a mask to hide behind when he was teaching or learning because he was being his truest self. He was so excited about his new glasses that it made you excited, too.

“Everyone at school will love them,” You gushed. “I mean, they won’t know they’re special Spider-Man glasses, but still.”

When you said this, Peter’s face fell immediately.

“Oh, um… I don’t know if I’m going to wear them to school.”

“Are you serious? What’s the point of having these cool glasses if you don’t even wear them? Then Tony practically made them for nothing.”

“I can still use them at home. Just drop it, okay?”

“Peter…”

“Y/N, please.”

You did drop the subject, but pressed him many other times about it. Each time he refused. Flash Thompson’s words clearly still affected him whether he was the confident, heroic Spider-Man now or not. He was still just a shy teenager from Queens underneath all of that sarcasm and spandex.

Last night, you decided to give it one more try.

---

You were sitting in the living room of your dad’s apartment. He wasn’t home, so Peter felt comfortable enough to sit with his arm wrapped tightly around you. Your father wasn’t very strict, but Peter couldn’t help feeling nervous whenever he was around. You were watching a movie on Netflix while Peter was focusing on the textbook in his lap. He was always working on homework. Resting on his nose were the glasses that he refused to wear around anyone but you. You smiled when he put them on. It made you feel good that he felt comfortable enough around you to wear them. You snuggled into him and kissed him on the cheek. He looked at you in surprise. He was so invested in his homework that you had startled him.

“What was that for?” He asked with a smirk on his face.

“Just because you look so cute in your glasses.”

He blushed and pushed them up.

“You think so?”

“Of course I do. And you know what else I think?

He raised one eyebrow as he watched you change your position so that your body was facing him. Seeing you do this made him realize that there was about to be a serious discussion – one that he probably wouldn’t enjoy. He braced himself.

“I think you should wear them to school.”

Peter rolled his eyes and threw his notebook and the glasses on your coffee table, pulling away from you.

“Y/N, we’ve talked about this. Multiple times.”

“Yes, we have. But you’ve never explained to me why you don’t want to wear them to school. Peter, please talk to me!” You grabbed his arm as he tried to get up and leave the conversation. He locked his jaw and sat back down next to you, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

“I just…when I wear them… I feel like I’m a thirteen-year-old dork all over again. Like I’m… powerless.”

His cheeks turned red and he looked away from you, steeling his jaw again. You knew how hard it was for him to share his feelings. You rubbed his back lovingly and grabbed his hand.

“You were never a dork, Peter. Just because some asshole says you are doesn’t mean you actually are. If you really love these glasses – which I know you do – then you should wear them without worrying about what other people think about you. With or without superpowers, with or without your glasses, you are amazing. Look at me.”

He looked into your eyes. The shade of red in his cheeks intensified.

“Do you remember when you were six and you used to wear your father’s glasses?”

He nodded.

“That’s the first time I realized I was in love with you.”

He looked down and smiled at the floor bashfully. You grabbed his arm and shook him lightly to gain his attention again.

“You love wearing glasses, Peter. You always have. Please don’t listen to Flash Thompson. He was wrong about you being a coward and he was wrong about nobody wanting to date you. You have a super hot girlfriend now that loves you. AND you’re Spider-Man. So screw him.”

He smiled at you again and swiped a strand of hair off of your cheek, then leaned in for a kiss. When he pulled away, you could see that he had finally melted. He sighed loudly and rolled his eyes.

“Okay, fine. You got me. I’ll give it a try, but no promises!”

You grinned and wrapped your arms around his neck. He leaned in for another kiss but you stopped him by putting your hand up in front of his face.

“Wait, put the glasses back on first.”

He leaned back again and raised an eyebrow.

“Are you serious?”

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.”

He moved so quickly to grab his glasses from the coffee table that he knocked everything off and practically gave you whiplash. You laughed so hysterically at this that you ended up falling to the floor.

That was the night before. Peter wore his glasses to school for the first time in five years that very morning.

---

Now your mind was back in Peter’s bedroom, finally snapping out of your reverie. You were still admiring how attractive Peter looked in his glasses when he glanced up from his work and caught your wandering eyes.

“What? Did I get ink on my face again?” He asked, frantically wiping at his red cheeks.

You laughed.

“No, I was just thinking… could you explain to me how those glasses work again?”

He set down his pen and leaned back in his desk chair, folding his arms.

“Y/N, I’ve explained it to you, like, fifty times already.”

“You know how bad I am with understanding this stuff. I’m just curious,” you puffed out your lips and whimpered like a child. “Please?”

He sighed, feigning agitation. It was obvious to you that he was actually pleased you had asked him again.

“Okay, fine.”

You grinned and scooted back against the wall at the head of his bed to make yourself more comfortable. He got up and made his way from his desk to the bed, sitting so that he was facing you with his legs folded underneath him.

Peter had changed so much in the last couple of years, but when you looked at him, you could still see that tiny boy wearing his father’s reading glasses. You saw him every time he was excited or sad. You saw him when he smiled, or when you watched him do his homework, or whenever you found him waiting for you at your locker after school. You even saw him when you watched Spider-Man swinging from building to building. You felt so lucky to have seen Peter in every stage of his life so far, and so grateful that he was yours.

“So…” Peter began, but you didn’t even hear the first word that came after. You were too busy watching his eyes twinkle as he told the story of how Tony made his glasses for the fifty-first time.