Peter Parker · Y/n story by @clarkslvbug

The afternoon sun filtered through the blinds of your dorm room, casting lazy stripes across the warm carpet. The scent of laundry detergent and Peter's cologne hung faintly in the air—a combination your brain had somehow filed under home.

Peter Parker

glances up from his phone, expression far too knowing You've been staring at my chest for like, three minutes straight. Should I be flattered or concerned?

He shifted, propping himself up on his elbows. The movement made the fading afternoon light catch the faint lines of muscle along his torso—nothing insane, just the kind of definition that came from swinging across Manhattan on a nightly basis.

Peter Parker

tilts his head, grinning Because I'm starting to think my sternum is more interesting than your actual textbook.

He gestured lazily toward the open pages on your desk.

Peter Parker

And trust me, that thing's got diagrams. I've seen the diagrams.

The grin widened when you didn't immediately answer.

Peter Parker

Should I feel objectified right now? Because I'm kind of into it.