Pairings: Peter Parker x Reader Request: Peter parker x reader where she’s tony’s daughter and peter used to bully her in sophmore and freshmen year and he sees her coming down the stairs at headquarters and they get into an argument in the middle of a mission and Y/N saves peter and they confess in the rain and ASDFGHJL IDK Warnings: Swearing, brief mention of death Words:1.8k A/N: I really liked this request! The ending is a little abrupt because I didn’t know how to end it without rambling but I hope I did your idea justice! Ps. I really suck at coming up with fic titles lmaoo
Peter Parker. Just the sound of his name makes your blood boil. The boy who was loved by most of the school and half the world is the same boy you hate with every fiber of your being. Even your own father praised Peter’s actions, blindsided by the brains the teenager possesses.
Everything about him makes you sick. The way he never shuts up, his constant pop culture references nobody gives a damn about, and his desperate attempts to gain approval from your dad. You have to bite your tongue just to keep in your frustrated screams.
You thought you’d forget about Peter once you dropped out of Midtown. Sure, you told everyone you couldn’t handle the stress high school forced upon you and science and technology just wasn’t your “thing” anymore. However, this was far from the truth. You loved Midtown, you loved your best friend Mj. Which, last you heard, she didn’t take your absence too well. Now, she usually sticks to herself trying her best to be a part of the background.
But anyways.
No, you could handle the stress and science still holds a place in your heart. Peter Parker was the only reason you left public school and now learn from the comfort of your home, the Avenger’s compound.
You too were once blinded by Peter’s awkward charm and geeky aura. You always thought Peter was threatened by how smart you actually were. You may not have been as smart as Peter, but in reality, who is? Peter was the top student at Midtown and you found your spot at number two.
You suppose Peter wanted to remain the best and you were in no place to compete for the title. Only, he didn’t get this message. The rivalry you didn’t want began your first semester of freshman year. You didn’t want to rip away his beloved title. You simply wanted to learn and be a normal teenager instead of Tony Starks daughter.
And for a while you were. A teenager who excelled in each of her classes, had late night homework sessions with Mj and early morning coffee runs, had stupid crushes and went to a few parties. You went on college visits and received scholarship letters all in your first two years, you had a life planned after graduation that didn’t include the Avengers.
You gave all that up when Peter’s words kept getting harsher with each passing day. His sly remarks, his patronizing tone, and the way he flaunted how much better he was than you was suffocating. Slowly, his comments ate you alive and you didn’t want to compete for your education.
So, you left.
The day Peter came waltzing back into your life, was the worst by far. You couldn’t ignore the way your dad gripped onto his shoulder as he gave Peter the tour around the compound. Tony talked to Peter in a way he’s never talked to you. He saw something in Peter that you fear he still doesn’t see in you.
-
Your fists collide with the punching bag before you. Sweat clings to your forehead and drips down your neck as your workout comes to an end. Natasha stands beside you, passing you a dry towel after you throw your last punch. “Great work today,” She comments, dropping her hand back to her side once you take the cloth.
“Thanks,” You mumble, patting the sweat dry and snatching your water bottle from the ground.
“You should shower before your studies begin,” She says, following you towards the gym’s exit. “Rodgers is running over some history with you,” She says as you reach for the handle. Nat’s hand quickly catches yours before you could pull the metal door open, “Y/N,” She says calmly, “Peter’s here today.”
“Of course he is,” You grumble, running your hand over damp fly-aways, trying your best to smooth down your hair.
“Just play nice,” She warns removing her hand from the knob, letting you pass with ease.
“Just play nice?” You scoff to yourself in a voice all too high to belong to Natasha. You stomp down the stairs, chucking your water bottle through the air out of pent-up anger.
The plastic container never touches the ground. White webs enclose around the bottle, yanking it back to the boy you’ve come to loathe. “Drop something?” Peter smiles, brushing off the remaining gunk and attempting to pass back your belonging.
“Clearly, my actions had a purpose.” You growl, shoving past his slim figure, not bothering to take back what’s yours.
“I was just trying to help,” He almost whispers. His words stop you in your tracks. You whirl around to face him once more, ready to smother him in suppressed anger.
“I don’t needyour help.” You snap, only earning a slight chuckle from Peter.
“You’re just like your father, you know that?” He shakes his head, calmly setting the bottle on the last step.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Your hands find their way to your hips, challenging him to continue.
“You think you’re too good for anyone’s help. You never take accountability for your mistakes, you think you’re smarter than everyone, and you think your better than everyone.” Rage flows through Peter’s veins turning his cheeks red after he spits each word.
“Me? Me thinking I’m better than everyone? Oh, that’s rich coming from you, Parker.” Your cackle echoes through the nearly empty room, “Maybe if you got your head out of your ass, you’d realize”-
“Y/N,” A voice booms from the stairwell, “That’s enough.” Steve makes his way towards the two of you, shield in hand. “There’s a mission at hand, suit up. Both of you.” Steve’s stern eyes look between you and Peter, waiting for you to follow is orders.
“But I have class today,” You begin, your dad rarely lets you skip your schooling unless it’s important.
“Well, luckily there’ll be a tomorrow if we finish the mission.” You open your mouth to protest but Cap beats you to it. “Go, now.”
Within the next hour, you’re covered in alien goop and out of breath. You shoot Earth’s imposters with ease, secretly keeping count. Some try grabbing your limbs but Natasha trained you too well for you to even stumble. Your fists connect with so many creatures your knuckles turn raw.
Once your corner of the city is clear of nuisances you finally take a moment to look around and catch a breath. From above, you see Peter swinging between buildings, shooting the creatures and leaving them stuck to window panes.
Suddenly, an alien bursts through a window, tackling Peter. Peter shoots webs swinging frantically to rid his attacker but to no use. The two of them crash onto the asphalt sending you running to Peter’s aid.
The alien tries to rip open Peter’s suit, but when his claws can’t tamper with the technology, his grey hands clamp around his throat. You can hear Peter gagging as you pick up speed. You tackle the alien as Peter gasps behind you. Your legs straddle the creature’s hips as he thrashes beneath you. Within moments, your gun is drawn and the trigger is pulled, coating yourself in slimy, blue blood.
When you stand, you offer your hand to Peter. Hesitantly, he accepts your offer. “Don’t let this become a habit,” You joke as you help your nemesis to his feet. Once his feet are firm on the ground, you turn to find more aliens to attack, leaving him alone in the destruction of his corner.
-
You stand outside, rubbing your knuckles in efforts to soothe the pain. Your body aches from the fighting. You know you should be used to it by now, but sometimes missions still get the best of you. Thunder roars overhead, miles away from where you stand. But you know, there’s a big storm coming.
Peter stands beside you, his presence sudden and for once comforting. Neither one of you speaks for a moment until he feels the need to blabber. “Thank you,” He whispers. You expect there to be more, usually, when he talks there is, you have to wait a good five minutes before you can get a word in.
“Don’t mention it,” You shrug as the first few raindrops fall from the sky.
“Can I ask you something?” You don’t look away from the dark sky beyond you, Peter takes his cue to keep talking. “What did I do to make you hate me so much?” He whispers. You look towards him, dumbfounded.
“You really have no idea?” You laugh to yourself, nothing could be clearer why you despised the boy. “You made high school a living hell, Peter.” You admit, “You spent two years degrading me, patronizing me. You made me feel as if I didn’t belong in such a smart school. Like, I get it, you’re like the smartest kid in the world. But Jesus Christ you don’t have to be a dick when someone doesn’t understand something you do.”
Tom rubs a hand across his face, turning away from you with a huff. “God I’m an idiot,” He mumbles into his hands.
“Glad you’re finally admitting it,” Rain starts to pour, soaking your shirt’s in tiny droplets, “I think I’ll head in for the night,” You say turning away from the awkward situation.
“No, Y/N, wait,” He calls after you, quickly grabbing your wrist. “I’m sorry, those weren’t my intentions,” His hair turns a few shades darker as water clings to each strand. “I was trying to impress you.” A warm blush crawls to his cheeks as soon as his words fill the space around you.
“You were trying to impress me… By being an asshole?” It comes out more of a question as you attempt to follow his thoughts.
“No,” He groans, running his fingers through his wet hair. “I wanted to impress you with being smart. I wanted to prove to you that I could do incredible things,”-
“If you wanted to impress me with something cool, you could’ve just told me you were Spiderman.” You chuckle, “I mean I already knew, but still.”
“I wanted you to like me for who I was, not what I could do.” He explains, “I know it came off as bragging and I’m sorry. You’re just so pretty and I couldn’t even think straight when you were around and then just one day you were gone and I’ve always heard that girls like bad boys who don’t care about anything and”- Peter was back to his normal, rambling self. This time, his jumbled words don’t annoy you, instead, they make you laugh.
“Peter,” You whisper, halting his words. Before either of you could think, your lips touch his. It’s soft, it’s slow, it’s everything you never thought you wanted but everything you’ve ever dreamed of. When you pull away, he’s grinning at you.
Summary - While hanging with Peter, the reader catches her trashy boyfriend smacking lips with another girl. Revenge ensues.
If you wanted to be added to the Peter Parker taglist, let me know! (Also currently writing a Peter Parker slow-burn series called An Immortals Heart ;))
Jack wasn’t… Perfect. But Y/n could see the light in his heart, she truly thought so. He had a tough bad boy exterior, but inside he was sweet.
Or at least that what she had hoped, but after 3 months it was getting hard to hope.
Jack had brushed her off almost their entire relationship. She thought maybe he was going through something because before they were dating he was such a gentleman. He had gotten her flowers for a week straight before asking her out.
Now he ignored her unless it was the occasional peck on the lips. Or their weekly movie night, those things made her hold on.
“Hey Jack, do you want to go to the movies with me and Peter? He asked if you wanted to join.” Jack shook his head as he walked up the stairs toward his room.
“No, I’m good, kinda tired so I’m probably just gonna go to bed.” He smiled at her, blowing her a kiss. She smiled, catching it, then snapping which turned the lights off in his living room.
“Sleep well love.” She said, heading out his front door and closing it quietly. She then
began her drive to aunt May’s apartment.
Y/n knocked lightly on the door, it swung open mid knock.
“Ready to go?” Pete asked, raising his hands into jazz hands. She smiled with a nod, pulling him from the door.
“So what are we watching?”
“Despite not wanting to see a horror movie, I picked the second Quiet Place because I knew you wanted to see it.” He whipped the tickets from his pocket with a cheesy grin. Y/n’s eyes widened.
“Awe Pete! It’s okay, you can hold my hand if you get scared.” She winked playfully, grabbing his hand and dragging him to her car.
———
After the movie, they made their way to a coffee shop a little ways from the theatre. It was called ‘Singing Beans.’ Peter held the door open for Y/n, heads whipping towards them as the little bell rang. One
little girl’s eyes lit up, running toward Y/n.
“Are you Lights Out!” She screeched with a big smile, Y/n crouched down to her size.
“Yes, I am!” She said with a snap, causing the light above them to go dark. The child shook with excitement.
“You’re so cool!” A small crowd accumulated around them, asking for pictures and for her to sign their arms. Peter just stood back and watched.
In the middle of getting a free coffee from a barista, Peter shook her arm.
“What?” She asked quietly, thanking the barista a thousand times. He only shook her shoulder again, prompting her to look at him, eyebrows furrowed. He noticed he was pointing out the window with a pained look.
There he stood, Jack.
Kissing another girl.
Y/n nearly dropped her coffee. He was sucking face with Felicity Hardy of all people. The girl people called Black Cat, recently causing minimal havoc around the city. Mostly vandalism disguised as activism.
She stormed out of the shop, leaving Pete behind. Once she stepped out, she turned the street lamp above them off, hearing a sigh from Jack.
“Y/n…” He turned to her, crossing his arms, an innocent look on his face.
“You are so luckyI don’t take the light from your eyes Jack, you piece of shit.” Felicity rolled her eyes, looking around looking disinterested. “You too Felicity, you knew I was dating him.” She hoped that waswould sting Jack, but deep down she knew it didn’t.
“Oh please, as if I cared.” She scoffed with a laugh. She came face to face with Y/n, nearly 3 inches from her face. “You don’t scare me.” Felicity whispered.
The rage built up inside Y/n, rarely did she do this in docile situations. She usually did it when she was in deep shit, but she was so mad. She sneered as she snapped her fingers behind her back, watching as Felicity panicked.
She screamed, touching her eyes, which Y/n didn’t understand, considering she didn’t inflict any pain on her. She just… Made her temporarily blind.
“I can’t see anything!” Felicity screeched.
“Don’t worry, you’ll be able to in a few hours.” Y/n shrugged, looking to Jack. He looked like he could scream too, but from anger.
“God, you’re such a pretentious bitch.” He spat at her, just as two feet came down from the sky, kicking him in the chest and knocking him to the ground.
“I’m sure lots of people could say the same about you.” A voice quipped. Y/n smiled as Spiderman stood on her ex-boyfriend’s chest. “Do you even know what that word means? Because you kind of used it wrong.” He rambled as he webbed Jack’s wrists and ankles to the ground.
“Thanks, Spiderman.” Y/n chuckled.
“Of course beautiful stranger.” She could practically see him winking. “And as for you, maybe you should just sit down with your new boyfriend. Because the webs should dissolve in the amount of time it takes you to regain sight.” He hung above Felicity and patted her head, bringing himself up as she swatted the air around her. He swung in a different direction, visibly landing in an alley 2 blocks over.
Y/n jogged to the alley, walking up just as Pete pulled his shirt over himself. He looked up with a sad smile, immediately turning worried as he saw tears forming in her eyes. He ran to hug her, pulling her into his chest.
“I’m so sorry Y/n, he didn’t deserve you.” He heard her sniffle into his chest, breaking his heart. That stupid boy, breaking his girl’s heart.
“I feel so stupid, he was shrugging me off for months and I ignored it. He was probably cheating the whole time.” This made her sob harder, grabbing at Pete’s shirt and squeezing the fabric between her fingers.
“It’s not your fault, he’s just a piece of work.” He sighed, running his hand over her hair.
“Can we go to your house, do you think May would let me stay over.” She looked up at him, her nose red, along with her tear-soaked cheeks.
“I think so yeah.” His thumbs rubbed tears from her cheeks. “Let’s get home, don’t forget to text your mom.” Y/n texted her mom as Pete walked them to her car.
Jack cheated, I’m staying at Pete’s tonight, love you :(
I’m so sorry bb, I’ll see you tomorrow. (I never liked that douche anyway, he had no manners) Have fun at Pete’s.
Y/n giggled at her phone pitifully, hopping in the passenger seat, mumbling that he could drive back.
——-
Y/n had fallen asleep in the car on the way there. Peter knew this, considering he looked at her every 30 seconds.
He did that even when he wasn’t worried about her.
He parked her car outside of his apartment, quickly making his way to the passenger side. He opened the door and scooped her up easily, shutting the door with his foot. Once he made it inside, May gave him a puzzled look.
“Can she stay the night, we just beat her exes ass because we saw him cheat. She’s really tired.” He whispered. She nodded with a smile.
“Of course she can, night Petey.” She ruffled his hair, heading to her room. Pete pushed his door open with his foot, slowly setting Y/n down on the bottom bunk. He pulled the covers over her and kissed her forehead.
“Good night beautiful.” He whispered, admiring her sleeping face.
'Goodnight handsome.“ She giggled back, pulling the covers closer and turning away.
People often joked that you and Peter Parker were academic rivals. You only shared two classes; biology and chemistry. You didn’t even know Peter’s major, but it definitely was not the same as yours. You were studying Cognitive Sciences, brain function, psychology. You’re pretty sure Peter was doing a physics degree. But for those two classes, you fought tooth and nail to keep your grade higher than Peter’s. Academic rivalry was what kept your grades from slipping. it was the only thing that kept you going to class. And then one day, you just weren’t there.
Peter was worried. You weren’t friends, per se, but you never missed a class. Peter saw you every day. You sat right next to him, thighs pressed together, elbows knocking against each other, every day. So when you didn’t show up, for the first time ever, Peter worried. He could barely sit through the class. Peter had seen you at your worst. He had seen you in dirty sweatpants with bags under your eyes, barely awake, and he had seen you in your plaid skirts and low cut blouses, cogs turning furiously as you hastily scribbled down notes.
Peter didn’t even know where your dorm was. He searched the campus until he found someone who he knew was your friend. They gave him your address far too quickly, it was concerning. But he didn’t stick around to lecture them. He raced off towards your dorm.
The knocking woke you from your nightmare. The loud, incessant, annoying knocking that rang through your dorm. You groaned loudly and nearly fell off the couch.
“What do you want?” You said, opening the door with your eyes closed.
“Hey,” he smiled breathily.
“Peter?”
“You weren’t in class.”
“I wasn’t,” you were being blunt.
“I’m worried about you.”
Seeing you didn’t do anything to ease his worry. You looked worse for wear. Mascara was smeared under your eyes and streaked down your cheeks. You looked pale, your skin had a sickly green tinge. Your eyes were puffy, circles dark. You looked like total shit. You had definitely been crying.
“Let me in, sweetheart,” he asked.
You moved aside. The dorm was dimly lit. There was a blanket strewn on the floor next to the couch, and a box of tissues on the coffee table. Peter watched a true crime documentary play on your tv. You sniffled behind him and his attention was on you again.
One hand wrapped loosely around your wrist. He collapsed onto your couch. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you onto his lap. He sighed as you buried your head into the crook of his neck. On a regular day, you would have fought against Peter. But you were so pliable under his touch, so ready to give up, it made Peter worry even more.
“Sweetheart,” he purred sympathetically. “What happened.”
“I got broken up with.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” you said bluntly. Peter couldn’t hear any sadness in your voice. “I didn’t really like him anyway.”
Peter was confused. You sounded relieved, so why were you crying. Peter probed for an answer. But you were stubborn, always have been. And so Peter asked and asked and asked for an explanation. You shook your head over and over, still buried in the crook of his neck. He wore you down eventually, and you lifted your face from its hiding spot.
“Why are you sad, sweetheart?”
“I have manipulated who has ever fallen in love with me to fall in love with me,” you confessed.
You looked devastated. Peter could feel it, total and utter dejectedness that hung heavily in the air. Peter’s hand squeezed your thighs reassuringly. He was in love with you. And you hadn’t manipulated him. He had fallen in love with you accidentally. One day while you were furiously scribbling down chemical equations, he looked over at you. Your hair was in your eyes, your bottom lip was clutched between your teeth. You looked so utterly beautiful. Peter’s heart nearly exploded. Now Peter got nervous when he spoke to you, made heart eyes at you when you weren’t looking, longed for your touch, prayed for your smile. He had fallen in love with you, and you had nothing to do with it.
“And that either makes me a very good liar,” your lip quivered. “Or a very unloveable human being.”
Peter wanted to scream. He wanted to hold you and tell you that you weren’t unloveable. You were perfect. He wanted to tell you that he loved you. He couldn’t find the words. So he kissed you.
His hands cupped your face and he kissed you. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. Your whole body stiffened. Peter kept kissing you, prying your lips open until you whimpered into his mouth. You relaxed and your hands tangled into his hair.
“I don’t think you’re unloveable,” he whispered against your lips. “I think you’re fucking perfect.”
pairing: singledad!mob!tom holland x singlemom!reader
words: 5.7k
warnings: SMUT,swearing, major violence, depictions of violence and blood, rough sex, oral (male receiving), face fucking, unprotected sex, dom!tom & creampie.
summary: Everything was perfect. The two-and-a-half years since they first met have been nothing but love and respect. Until, y/n comes home one night, her husband gone for the time being. It all somehow crumbles in front of her, she can’t help but question it. Though this thought is nothing to what he feels in that very moment. It’s pure fear and terror, a pent-up storm of worry. Their comfort zone is nothing longer alive, it was buried and left to rot.
a/n:so. it must be said, i went through three different plots before i settled on this one. that is why this goddamn fic has taken me so long to write. This is probably the last mob!tom holland fic i’ll write because bitch has a lot of other AUs that i would honestly prefer to write. enjoy!
y/n waited for a moment. It wasn’t long, but it was enough she had to check the clock on her wrist. 1:37am. Although she heard the snoring of Lottie, sound asleep in her bed, y/n knew otherwise. She knew that as soon as her feet hit the carpeted floor of her daughter’s bedroom, the girl would shoot straight up and whine for y/n to come back. She loved Lottie with all of her heart, like all of her kids, however sometimes the precious little angels got on her nerves. Just last Tuesday is a prime example as y/n desperately fiddling with the buttons of Tom’s shirt, wanting nothing more to take every inch of him while his whole operation continued below them. Just as she had popped the last latch, James called out for his father from across the house, most likely because one of the boys got hurt again from the play fighting they insisted they do. Sadly, y/n redid her husband’s buttons and let him leave her widely aroused and dissatisfied.
As she watched Lottie take in her small breaths, y/n recounted the moments. She still remembers her wedding, clear as day. It was in their garden, with the trees dressed in beautiful pink silk and the flowers somehow in full bloom. No one was around, it’s was secluded and perfect. It was just them, Theo and James stood side by side, their matching suits made her heart swell. Their perfectly rosy cheeks lit up as they saw y/n make her way down the grassy aisle. Though she never saw it, Tom admits that it was Theo who smacked him on the arm to turn around. To come face to face with his bride, a blushing bride that was 7 months pregnant. It was a rush of a events that y/n never quite saw occuring so early into her life. Yet, the day she told Tom they were going to be parents, he asked her to marry him. Of course, y/n organised a typical wedding after she had given birth but at that very second, every bad thing she had to live through suddenly became a single speck of sand on a vast beach. A prologue to her wonderful life ahead of her.
The door swung open slightly, though the light from outside Lottie’s room was off, y/n could instantly tell who was stepping over countless dolls and plastic cars. Tom knelt at the side of his daughter’s bed, just below his wife as she softly stroked Lottie’s forehead. “You need some rest Sweetness,” he told her quietly, watching over Lottie’s snoring figure.
“I can’t” y/n stifled through a yawn. Though she greatly needed to run to her bed and pass out, she refused to leave Lottie unless she knew her daughter was absolutely deep in sleep. Tom sighed, letting his forehead hit the soft linen of the bed cover.
“You need sleep, I can’t look after the brady bunch by myself,” Tom joked. His hand came to draw soft circles on y/n’s thigh. It was nothing if not soothing to her. He could directly make out her face in the darkness, but Tom knew his wife was smiling, a low grin painted upon her fatigued face. “I’ll take this shift.”
y/n reached out for his face, finding it in seconds. Her thumb now matched the pattern on his cheek that Tom was drawing on her thigh. “We made a deal,” it was his speciality, but he never wanted it to get this bad. “You would help Theo with his Valentine’s Day gift if I could get this one to sleep.”
y/n possessed many traits that Tom adored. She was empathetic, a woman of incredible wit and intelligence, had the stamina of a bull but her stubbornness seemed to be her crowing glory. Tom knew his wife as well as he knew how to count to ten. She wasn’t leaving until absolute confirmation was handed to her. “Sweetness, I would prefer if you came to bed with me,” he tried, the approach was simple and usually it worked.
“As much as I would adore that, I’m not going anywhere with you mister,” y/n teased. Her attention focusing back on Lottie. Perhaps it was the way her eyelids seemed to betray her, closing every few seconds or if it was simply the way the mattress felt beneath her legs. Eventually though, the mixture of all of those and her husband’s head laying flat on her thighs, she began to slowly creep off the bed. The pads of her feet pressed against the floor in such delicacy, y/n doubted that she even touching it. She reached out for Tom, grasping slightly at his bare bicep as she lifted herself up.
Tom caught on to his wife’s movements and made sure that the path was completely clear of any of Lottie’s toys. Calmly, the pair of them tip-toed out. Every move halted by their daughter’s movements but eventually, the door closed and y/n was free from the little montress’s grip. y/n wishes that she was more awake, more alert because even in her half sleep dazed she could make out the tight white singlet that clung to Tom’s body. She reached out for him, it was the weakest of touchs. Yet, her hand fell on his shoulder and running up to the base of his neck. It wasn’t sexual in any form, instead they stood in the dim light in complete silence. Watching each other feel the affected of forced insomnia.
“How am I going to get up this morning,” y/n giggled as she accepted the sudden embrace from Tom. Her head finding it’s way into the same shoulder she tenderly caressed seconds ago. Tom’s fingers coiled around her forearm gently as the began to quietly walk to their bedroom. “Hopefully Meg will be around at that time,” she sighed as the soft breeze of their room hit her face. Meg was their nanny, a woman who has been employed by Tom since James was a baby. She was a sweet old thing, a cliché of the lovely old lady in fairtales.
“She will, sadly I won’t,” Tom told her, pressing a kiss to her cheek as they both hid themselves under the sating covers. y/n wanted to continue the conversation, she knew that Tom wouldn’t be back at home until tomorrow night and for the first time, she would be in charge of everyone but she couldn’t. As soon as her head hit the lavender scented pillow, she was out like a light. Tom just chuckled in return, pulling her into a soft embrace.
━━★✼☆｡
y/n wasn’t an idiotic woman. She has been with Tom for two and a half years; married to him for two years, she immediately knew when something didn’t feel right. As her fingers gripped the steering wheel, she peered in her rear-view mirror. It was something Tom’s bodyguards drive around in. The vehicle was large and bulky, looking like it a take down a building with minimum amount of speed. It was painted in the midnight black, even the widows seemed to be darkened. Like before, y/n recognised the model of the car to be a sister of the cars she would frequently have to ride in if she accompanied Tom anywhere, he thought posed even the slightest amount of danger. She knew that with every corner she took, the car would mimic her turns. y/n caught onto it in seconds, watching through Lottie’s car seat and Theo’s mop of hair. It didn’t help that when she called Tom’s head guard, he told her that he had followed her orders. To let her pick up her children to avoid the never-ending shock from the ensemble of 6'5 muscular men accompanying her wherever she went.
“Do you want us to do anything about it ma'am?” he asked through the car’s speaker. y/n pondered for a few seconds. While her gut was screaming at her that this was something completely out of the ordinary, if there was any ordinary being married to a Mob boss. Her mind knew that if she did say something to him now it was no doubt find its way to Tom. He would instantly assume the worst and cancel any important deal in front of him to race home. The guard’s voice pulled her out of her concentration.
“Get the house under lockdown,” she ordered, for the first time she felt truly in control but as all things it was slipping. “Do not tell my husband.”
“Ma'am, it is imperative that Mr. Holland know of this,” the guard protested. y/n had been going through quite a rough day. She was tired, overworked and constantly around wailing children. She refused to be around another. Her jaw clenched as she pulled into their street, the car still hot on her tail.
“I don’t care, Tom will not know of this,” y/n snapped, peering up for a final time but to her initial surprise that car had vanished. She had no clue where the fucker had gone. “It’s probably nothing,” she spoke quietly. The sentence was more reassurance for herself than from him, yet he had heard her, accepted her terms and hung up.
As she pulled the car into the impressively large garage, she lets her bare forehead hit top of the steering wheel. She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth.
“Mum,” Theo called out from the backseat, “are you alright?” The boy’s question was laced with genuine concern. It released whatever anxiety riddled grip had got a hold of y/n. She gazed up, smiling as she let all her negative thoughts leave her before turning to her three children.
“I am just really tired honey,” she replied as she exited the car and proceeded to undo Lottie’s buckled. “Not to worry, I think it is Boy’s Movie Night tonight!” Both boys cheered in unison. The afternoon went on as usual. Theo and James spent the entire time with their faces glued to the screen in front of them. Squealing every time the supposed bad guys landed flat on his ass, jumping at every occasion that they could. Even if they lived in a mansion, y/n was positive that everyone in this house could hear their playful laughter.
y/n sat next to Lottie; her curly brunette hair clipped back into two adorable pigtails. Lottie was a carbon copy of Tom. Even next to her half-brother James, Lottie seemed to possess ever physical trait of y/n’s husband. The smooth somehow flawless skin, the bouncy chestnut curls that y/n just knows will be her daughter’s statement piece when she grows up and finally the pair of chocolate eyes that gets her father weak every time, she babbles up at him. She wondered how all of her children would look like when they get old enough to make their own decisions. While James doesn’t have Tom’s colouring like Lottie does, he has this glimmer of mischievousness in his eyes. Something y/n has loves about her boys, they all share this odd ball of high-energy. Theo looks exactly like y/n, her colouring and her features. Theo’s look alikeness to his mother is something y/n feels is divine intervention. To show that, this is her son. Her baby boy and no one else’s unless she says so.
“Ma'am” Meg’s heavy Irish accent perks up. She’s standing at the windows, peering through the curtains slightly. “I think you should see this,” she advises before stepping away from the scene and running to grab Lottie from her highchair. y/n hesitantly waltzes over, she presents a cool face to her children, but she can feel her stomach crawling into her throat as she gets closer. y/n pulls the fabric back slightly, she prays that is it now in the early hours of the night and the light is off. It’s the same car, it’s now parked across the road from her house. Just outside of their camera’s visibility, the vehicle is camouflaged almost to perfection, she can still spot it. Its headlights are off and the car makes not a single sound. At first, y/n faithfully believes she is now seeing things, that her brain is so unfathomably tired it has resorted to petty tricks. That is until one of the car doors open quickly. She waits for a moment as does this figure in the car before a pair of fit hit the ground. Though it makes no clamour, it startles her. y/n doesn’t wait to meet his eyes as his head ducks under the car roof to fully meet the air. She turns around to meet Meg’s eyes, the women wear matching looks.
“Take the children into the spare room, go now,” y/n speaks softly as not to alarm her sons. Meg nods quickly, instantly holstering Lottie on her hips and shooing the boys away from the glowing TV.
She pauses until she hears the door close. It’s deafening. She turns her attention back to the scene, it’s worse than before. There’s at least 7 of them huddled around this car, pulling unknown bags from the seats. As the mystery bags hit the ground, the unknown men begin opening it. It’s filled to the brim with metal, the holsters of guns peeking through with the aid of the dim light of the streetlight. y/n refused to observe anymore, silently she alerts the guards in the house. She doesn’t even process the next second, it’s like nothing is working anymore. y/n knows what the sound is, she knows what is happening, she knows that in a matter of seconds the men have begun firing at her front landing. Killing anyone standing outside, she can feel the bullets entering their bodies.
It’s with that, y/n goes from a fast pace to sprinting. She rushes down the long halls to meet with her children. It’s feels like an eternity that she is opening doors, calling out for any of them. All the while, gunshots ring out like a bell, constant and terrible. Her phone vibrates,it send her nerves over the edge. y/n stops for a second to stare at it, Tom’s name lights up the screen. Instead of answering, her fingers lose all their function. Her phone drops from her hand and hits the floor. She wants to pick it up but her feet work against her and begin to simply pace herself away from her phone as it continues to hum against the tiles.
Finally, she reaches the room. Meg holds Lottie close to her chest, rocking the toddler back and forth as Lottie cries into Meg’s shirt. Theo and James are standing in the middle of the room. Both look like they are on their verge of tears and to be completely truthfully, so was she. Closing the door, y/n immediately wraps her arms around her sons. She feels the wet tears staining her shoulders. She feels their chests rise and fall drop as best they can.
“You boys are so brave,” she sooths, her palms rubbing circles atop their heads. Slowly, she peers up. While the gunfire continues to ring out, y/n stares at the people in the room with her. Not a single bulb is turned on, the area is pitch black, but she can still see how this if affecting the boys. How Meg clutches onto Lottie’s wailing body. “It’ll be over soon.”
“You promise,” James chokes out, he wipes his face of her blouse. y/n pressed a tender kiss to his hair. She lets a single tear escape her eyes.
“I swear handsome,” y/n tells him, but she’s not convinced by the sound of her own voice. The boys pull away from her, one of her hands reaches for their salty cheeks. “Everything will be alright, Mumma swears.”
She doesn’t want to; she wants to scream. She wants to burn the entire house to the ground. She wants to leave with her children and never come back. y/n has never felt this in her entire life. This is not only pure terror for the lives of her children but it’s uncontrollable rage. She’s being held together by a tearing material of a rubber band. Her limbs are coiled, feeling as though she has rusted in the rain. Her mind doesn’t stop, it runs as if it has never felt this wrathful freedom in its life. A million different thoughts threaten to take power, as if they should decide her next move. She doesn’t let them of course, y/n’s had practice at this, and she will not crack now.
“Meg, give me Charlotte now,” y/n’s voice is hoarse and breaking with ever vowel that drops from her lips. The old lady rushes over to y/n and hands her Lottie. The toddler instinctively wraps her arms around y/n, refusing to let go. Another 20 minutes go by, it’s torture. The air seems to wash around y/n as she clings onto her children for dear life. Quietly, she pans over to Meg. The old woman looks as if she has turned from the humble baker’s wife down the street to death herself. Their eyes lock, passing silent messages to each other.
I’m sorry, y/n pleads. She thinks if she spoke it aloud, it would travel barely above a whisper.
It’s okay, sweetheart, Meg responded. Though the woman only truly meant the first part, y/n wanted to believe that she would have used the nickname to calm her nerves. Somehow it did.
The moment lasted for only seconds. A fleeting feeling of safety was ruined by the doorknob rattling furiously. At the speed of sound, y/n had handed Lottie over to Meg and told her to hide in the bathroom with the children. y/n heard everything, the door lock behind Meg and the muffled yelling behind the door in front of y/n. She scrambled to her feet, driving her to the wide bedside table. She threw open the doors until she landed on the one thing she never believes she’s use. A small handgun. y/n didn’t quite have time to question her morals at this very second in time. y/n wrapped her fingers around the handle just as the door swung open. Tears spilled as she pointed the gun aimlessly.
“Thank god,” his familiar voice rang out. y/n sunk to her knees, the gun falling right from her fingertips. Tom rushed to her side; he didn’t know what to say to her. He knew exactly what she was feeling, he knew whatever attempt he made at explaining the horrid situation would break his poor wife even further.
y/n studied his features in the dim light of the room as he got closer to her. She had never seen him in such a state. His hair flopping all over his face, hiding whatever panic was clearly evident over his features. More specifically, y/n watched as it became clearer. A large splatter of blood across his right cheek. She fell right into his arms, finally allowing herself to stain his shirt with her burst of weeps.
━━★✼☆｡
y/n’s body was on fire. The fire was nothing but pure pain. As if bugs were nesting right under skin, desperate for a gasp of air. Even the clock ticked loudly, ever noise of the hand pressed her brain against her skull. Every joint rigid in its own specific way, damaged and tight.
“Sweetness, talk to me,” Tom soothed, using the towel to clean the final fragments of blood off his cheek. Her eyes squinted at him, waiting for him to do anything other than be his normal gentle self. y/n slid herself off the foot of their bed and walked to the closed door. Flashing images of the other room crossing her mind.
“I need to check on the kids,” she huffed. While y/n knew Meg was laying wide away on the floor of Theo’s room as all three children slept contently, she wanted to be away from him at a moment like this. She needed to not see his face. Alas, Tom’s hand gripped her wrist tightly. The touch sizzled her skin, the tension elevated for a split second.
y/n whipped around to face him; Tom felt his patience slipping from him. “y/n, be an adult,” he hissed.
Tom knew he shouldn’t be talking to her like this, but he was at his wit’s end. A candle burning to the final wax. He mentally fucked himself over when he got that stupid fucking call. Sir, your wife has informed us of an unidentified vehicle following her, it engraved itself into his mind. Tom remembers sitting at the desk, wondering if she was witnessing the same group, he had fucked over a few months ago. Deciding it could wait, Tom told them to keep his updated throughout the night. As if whatever god was up there decided to play a tortuous comedy routine with Tom, it did begin to progress. First, the car pulling up hours before his arrival. Then the major security breach and finally as they began shooting at his house, ready to slaughter anyone they found inside. Especially his family.
She watched his intently. Waiting for a further response and yet, nothing. Her anger was bubbling over. “I am an adult,” she seethed at him, her fingers unwrapping themselves from the doorknob. “I make sure that my children are safe, I make it my life’s mission to ensure that I am not the direct cause of those certain dangers I wish to keep them so far away from!”
She had ripped her hand from his grasp, this wasn’t something she was backing away from. It was something she could fight and to which she intended to do until the very end.
The little monologue broke Tom’s heart. How could she believe that he would do such a horrific thing? How could she blame him for the events that unfolded tonight? He wondered if she truly knew this was never his intention. That he never wanted his family to come under direct attack all because he made one dangerous decision.
“You don’t talk to me like that y/n,” He grumbled. The air seemed to thicken with every word, cause more distance between the spouses. It was never like this they fought like a normal couple but never with this much venom. “I don’t deserve such criticism, especially from you.”
“Why?” she pondered, she moved closer to him. Inching closer with every second. “Is it because you question my authority? Or maybe is it because I am some silly little schoolteacher who got trouble with the wrong kind of people,“ she moved closer with every word of the sentence, pushing her dangerously closer. It’s a risk she must take if she wants to feel any sort of release.
“Stop being so theatrical y/n, you endured something horrible, but that is what you signed up for when you married me,” the room climbed in temperature. Tom had half a mind to strip himself just to get closer to peace, but with y/n so close to his chest, he preferred to work on her. Tom can’t pinpoint what made his mind switch in directions. Maybe it was the ever-growing heat, or perhaps it was the indescribable feeling of almost losing your wife and mother of your children. Either way, Tom thoughts were growing darker. The need to bruise y/n’s skin seemed to be the only thing he could really think about. “You wanted this,” he grunted, closing in on her. “Sweetness, you agreed to this lifestyle as soon as you sunk your sweet cunt onto me.”
The vulgarity of his words caught her off guard. Her breath stopped halfway when her back almost slammed into the wall. She wasn’t giving in so easily, even if the heat from her body had swiftly travelled to the valley between her thighs. y/n turned her head away from him in any desperation to not look at him. Unfortunately, Tom caught her actions as if he knew her every move. His fingers pressed against her chin to bring her eyes back to him. Tom was worried for an instant that she would truly be too furious with him to play into his game. Luckily, her eyes betrayed her. The big doe eyes of her stared up at him, pleaded to be fucked like an animal. Slammed into until all of her rage had slipped from her conscious.
“Screw yourself Tom,” she coughed out. She was playing along, y/n knew exactly where this was heading. A tender kiss was placed upon her lips, while the action itself was soft, nothing about the kiss genuinely was. It was the ultimate puzzle piece for him.
"You want to speak to me like a bitch,” Tom chuckled, “you’ll get fucked like a bitch.” He kicked the back of her knees harshly, causing her to meet with the floor. “On your knees and hands behind your back.” She wanted to protest, she wanted to act out the little brat but like most things, her arms instinctively pulled themselves behind her. “Now, I sincerely hope I don’t have to punish you further sweetness,” Tom soothed as he swiftly undid the buckle of his jeans, discarding the items of clothing across the room. His throbbing cock hit the base of his stomach with a soft slap. y/n bit her lip in instinct, it had been a while, and did she wholly miss this glorious scene in front of her.
y/n leaned forward and dragged her tongue from the base of him until her lips met with the beads of pre-cum drenching him. Slowly but surely, she wrapped her lips around him. Letting him enjoy the wet cavern of her mouth for a short time. He threw his head back in unison with a beautifully quiet moan. Her eyes never left him, as she bobbed her head gradually. If she was on her knees unable to reach out and touch him, she would at least make it fun for her. y/n only quickened her pace if their line of focus connected. As soon as Tom stared directly into her eyes, she would start her movements but if he turned away to enjoy the moment, everything would stop. It went like this before Tom had quite enough of it all. Without uttering a single word, Tom wrangle his hands into her soft hair and thrusted right up into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat roughly. She gagged loudly, making an awful sound as she attempted to regain her position. He pulled away from her, only to slam right back into her mouth. Unlike her plan beforehand, as he face fucked her, his pace begins to speed up.
y/n was now struggling to hold back her ragged gags as small tears slid out of her eyes. “Pretty girl, all worked out from my cock in your mouth huh?” Tom teased as he relished in the sounds of her cacophony of broken breaths. Just as quickly as he began, he pulled away from her complete. He dropped out of her mouth with a small pop and a trail of saliva that landed on the tops of her breasts. “Get up,” to which she happily obliged. As soon as y/n had regained her footing, Tom’s hands had completely destroyed her pants. The loose skirt was now in two pieces at her feet, along with her favourite pair of panties. Unfortunately, she didn’t even get a second to scold him before he spun her around and slammed her chest against the wall. The pain excited her, it coursed through her torso and down into her legs, causing them to spasm slightly.
Tom looked at her, in the soft moonlight she was glowing. Ass facing him, tits pressed up against the wall. Complete ready for him. Tom gave her a small kiss on her shoulder, this time it truly was meant to be tender but in typical Tom fashion. As soon as his lips left her skin, Tom plunged right up into her. His hand covering her surprised squeal. God did he miss this. Filling her tight pussy right up to the brim. Even after everything they had been through, she still fit him like a glove. Hugged him so perfectly, Tom was worried he was shot his load right into her at this very moment. Sadly, he pushed the thought away and began rocking into her; his hand still covered over her mouth.
y/n could feel every inch of his like this. She could feel just how hard he was ramming into her cunt. Her nails gripped onto the wall in front of her as she whimpered into the palm of his hand. With every snap of his hips, her worries seemed to really melt away. All the tension built up in her body being oiled as he parted her legs to reach a nook in her that she thought impossible. “Tommy, f—fuck, oh my god,” it was incoherent garble. Nonsense talk as her eyes rolled back into her head for a few seconds. His head found the valley of her neck, peppering light kisses a major difference to the rough pace he had adopted.
“What is it sweetness,” Tom gasped right into her ear. The hot air tickling her skin. His other hand gripped callously at her hip, bruising the delicate skin under his fingers. “Come on tell me,” Tom was struggling to keep himself in check. The pure sound of skin against skin as he fucked her ass filled the air, pushing him closer to ecstasy. His hand pulled away from her lips, an immediately low moan tumbled from her lips. y/n waited for her body to response to anything, everything thrown out the window every time his dick hit her perfect spot inside of her.
“Har—harder,” she strained through strings of vulgarities and chants of his name. Tom smirked at her, she caught it before he pulled away from her. Tom started to slow his movements, observing how she swallowed him whole every time he thrusted into her tight hole.
“You really want it harder sweetness?” Tom asked, he was just as desperate for a release as she was. y/n nodded her head furiously, words seeming to fail her at this instance. “Turn around,” he ordered, she swivelled around to face him. Her once neat hair now a mess of pleasure tugged strains. Her lids fluttering shut and her cheeks flushed. She looked like a Greek statue. Tom bent and lifted her over his shoulders, earning a tiny giggle from his huffing wife above him. He frantically sprinted over to their bed and promptly chucked her on it. The force knocking a bit of wind out of her.
In a flash of actions, her face had been pressing into the mattress and her ass high up in air. Tom gave it a light smack before lining up and pounding right into her. Both of them let out a soft line of curses. It had never been this intense in their entire relationship.
The room was silent. Nothing could be heard outside but inside was a different idea. Tom brought her hips down roughly onto him, matching his tattered speed. y/n’s breaths were muffled by the cover of the blanks, her hands desperate for anything to latch onto for support as he fucks her relentlessly. It a beautiful mixture of sounds. Nothing like the soft breaths and gasps on a normal night. While those still as amazing as now, this was pure unfiltered animalistic need. No feelings, just a fantastic way to blow off incredible tense steam. Tom usually adored staring at her as her face scrunched up in pleasure but something about how every time his cock rammed up into her, everything moved with his thrusts. It was memorising, as if a painting had been brought to life. y/n had lost track of time during this, so focused on the way he was able to stretch her so wide that she had completely forgot how long she had been lying here. She didn’t dwell on it for too long before the divine familiar feeling presented itself to her, dwelling at the pit of her stomach.
“Go faster, I’m going t—to come,” she pleaded, lifting her head up for only a moment before diving right back into her muffled screams. Tom growled at this, picking up his already forceful speed. While he tried, his thrusts became sloppy and jagged.
“Come with me sweetness,” he whispered to her, his fingered rubbing cathartic circles on her sensitive clit. The sensation on her bud rupturing another last piece of sanity in her body.
With a final thrust, both y/n and Tom came. A relief as both almost shouted out in absolute ecstasy, their juices mixing together in a beautiful sense of the terms. y/n’s toes curled as she felt it all, every little piece of tension, anger and lust all combine and explode inside of her. Tom wasn’t even the slightest but worried as he had been before this had begun. His sweaty forehead lay against her spine, as his wife attempted to catch her breath. Slowly he pulled out of her, his cum leaking out of her. A sight he would love to have burned into his vision for the rest of his life.
“Feel better?” Tom asked her as he threw himself next to her. y/n turned to face him and for the first time that night an honest grin appeared on her face. A grin given to her by whatever relief she had received moments before.
warnings:swearing,PURE FILTH, sir kink, rough sex, masturbation (male & female), exhibition kink if you squint, spanking & sort of public sex.
summary: It’s wrong, y/n tells herself. She can’t help it though. She can’t help fantasising about him. At the other end of the class, Tom tells himself to stop staring at her. It’s creepy, he thinks. Neither one knows of the mutual pining that is until tension bubbles over.
a/n:I’m back bitches! I’m still a fucking sinner and this is such a cliche, I’m so so sorry
y/n sat at the desk. Her eyes never left Mr. Holland. Her attention never left the way the veins in his arms bulged when he picked up the massive textbook, never left his perfectly gelled hair and how it sat atop his head like it was crafted to from the day he was born. Perhaps I should start typing the notes that were on the board, she scowled to herself.
She feels dirty, almost ashamed of her crush on him. She hates herself for falling into a stupid cliché that had been so easy to avoid all these tireless years. y/n doesn’t know why she has gone back to a love-sick teenage girl fantasising about a boy who she’ll never even get to touch. A boy that so out of her league, he wouldn’t even had the faintest idea that she exists. That doesn’t stop them though. y/n still finger fucks herself to an orgasm that no boy has been able to give her in her 24 years of life, all the while wishing it was his cock instead of her fingers. If Mr. Holland knew what she did to herself under the influence of him and his stupidly handsome face, he would be disgusted. This she knows for a fact.
This isn’t what she thought she would be doing, in all honesty. She is a semester away from graduating and she never wanted to be stuck in a perpetual state of wanting someone so unattainable it’s not uneasy, it’s borderline unethical. She truly believed she would have ancient married professor that sound like their legs deep in their coffin. Instead she got a literal Greek God as her Psych professor.
She knows that she’s not the only one of course. y/n has met 10 other girls in her class that probably write god awful poetry about Mr. Holland’s liquid bronze eyes. She can’t blame them, if she could write shitty poetry about him, she 100% would. y/n not angry either, she knows out of the 120 students (110 of whom are girls), are probably all in the same predicament. She sometimes gets dirty looks from them when Mr. Holland address her by her first name.
Perhaps that’s something she should consider; he calls her y/n not Miss y/l/n or just simply Miss. It’s different, it’s endearing and when he has a raspy voice, it’s so fucking hot.
“y/n,” a voice called out, she shook herself out of her haze, “are you still with us?” Mr. Holland was no standing over her. His cologne surrounding her, intoxicating her. y/n gulped softly before turning her eyes to his.
“Yes, sorry sir,” y/n replied quickly, trying her hardest not to stumble over her own words or even let the blush run to her cheeks.
Mr. Holland smiled warmly, “that’s good, I need at least one of you listening,” the class erupting in laughter, “I would prefer it to be one of the brightest.” That though got them quiet. y/n sunk into her chair in embarrassment. The blush she had been fighting rose to the surface, making her even more adamant not to look up at him but alas she couldn’t.
In that small fleeting moment, she caught something in his eyes. She couldn’t define exactly what it was. Whatever it truly was, y/n knew teachers should not be looking at their students in such a way. It made her even more lightheaded with admiration.
The lesson continued on as normal for another hour. Mr. Holland described the outline for the next assignment, it seemed short and sweet. Write a 2-thousand-word essay on the effects of unintentional recreational drugs during early childhood. y/n had to laugh at the way Mr. Holland phrased it. It was as if he had never touch pot in his entire life, to be fair, y/n wouldn’t be too surprised if he didn’t. Most of the girls in his class groaned at the mere mention of actual work and not an hour and a half session of pure toe-curling orgasm material. Now that she thinks about it, that would be a wonderful way to spend her Wednesday mornings and Thursday afternoons.
Of course, y/n was in another word during the last minutes of the lesson. Unable to focus on anything other than the hint of a tattoo peeking through the underlining of his shirt. She was working so hard to distinguish what it was that she had completely missed the end of the lesson and the dozens of people walking out.
“y/n, what exactly are you doing?” Mr. Holland’s voice asked above her. y/n almost jumped in her seat, but she stayed completely still. “This is the second time today, should I be worried?”
This though made her jump out of her seat. “No of course not sir!” She defended as she rushed to place her things away. “I was just off in wonderland today.”
“Are you sure there is nothing distracting you?” He asked.
Yes.
“No,” she replied hurriedly.
“You know you can tell me if something is,” he reassured her.
Yes, of course. Let me just tell you about how you are distracting me by always wearing the hottest casual suits every lesson and giving me the wonderful fantasy of tearing it off you.
“I know that, it’s just been my busy schedule,” y/n lied through her teeth. She’s a broke college student with hardly any friends or real other assignments. “I am just working really hard, you know?”
Yeah, working really hard to imagine you pounding me into next week!
With that last thought, y/n knew she needed to leave before she exploded with embarrassment and arousal right there in front of him.
“I just wanted to let you know that you are totally allowed to change the topic of the assignment if you feel like there is something that strikes a chord with you,” Mr. Holland smiled brightly.
Fuck! Did he have to look so gorgeous even when he’s trying to be dorky and supportive.
Mr. Holland noticed the shocked look upon y/n’s face and immediately retracted his statement, “I promise I won’t fail you, if that’s what your thinking.” He explained. “I really enjoy your work, you’re a gifted woman with a real talent and I don’t want to see it go to waste with my shitty assignment.”
y/n turned her attitude around. He was stumbling over his words. It was kind of cute and endearing, like everything he does. She smiled warmly at his compliment.
“Sir,” she spoke softly. It came out a lot mouseyer and somehow sexual than she would have liked but she refused to back out of her statement. “I can’t wait.”
She didn’t say another word but simply slung her back over her shoulder and made her way out of the class. Tom followed her figure in complete and utter shock. He praised whatever god watched over him for the small mercy that was having y/n’s back turned to him to witness his immediate blush cover his entire freckled face.
Tom never let his eyes leave her. He just watched her waltz right out of his classroom, he bit his lip at the sight of her perfectly cupped ass in her jeans. Through-out the entire lesson, all he could think about is how her tits would bounce as his dick thrusted up into her little cunt. Just the thought made his cock spring to life.
He stared up at the clock. He had to be in another lecture in 10 minutes, he had to teach another round of student without her pretty face in it in 10 bloody minutes. Sadly, it wasn’t enough time to imagine cumming over her said face. He fidgeted until his painful erection was safely hidden.
God, you are such a fucking creep, Holland. He thought to himself.
━━★✼☆｡
y/n really didn’t want to be doing this.
She really didn’t want to have to walk to the library in a mini skirt she had when she went through her cringy hoe phase and a low-cut tank top she only really wore to bed at 8 at night. Luckily before she left, her roommate gave her a full can of pepper spray and a pocketknife. A handle tool for when you looked like a prostitute.
She had no choice. It was laundry night and she had to get her assignment out of the way, or she would never finish it in time. She wanted to kick herself for letting laundry night fall on the only night the library stayed open until midnight. It was a perk for sure but not when you had nothing to wear but pink neon rags.
y/n pushed open the library door and relieved herself of the anxiety of being abducted by the greeting of Harry. He looked familiar but she couldn’t pinpoint where she had seen his face before.
“What cha doing here?” he shouted. Quite contradictory for a librarian. y/n grinned when she saw his dorky face at the counter. That is until he caught wind of her outfit, or lack thereof. “Got a late shift at the strip-club after this?” Her face fell.
“I hate you,” she played along, her arms slumping on the cold desk. y/n looked around the library. It was basically empty, with the exception of the middle-aged teacher grading a stack full of papers. Poor bastard, y/n thought. “Got one for me?”
“You’re going to get me fired if I do this again,” Harry huffed, he banged his head against the keyboard in frustration.
“This is the last time,” y/n explained, “I pinkie promise.” She lifted her hand over the counter and waved her pinkie finger in Harry’s face. He stared up her than move his eyeline to her finger now just touching the tip of his nose. He groaned loudly as he took her finger in his.
“There is a ton of empty booths, choose one and don’t make a sound,” Harry told her angrily, y/n simply clapped her hands in celebration and skipped off. She chooses the booth in range of Harry, in hopes that maybe he will distracted her and she won’t have to do her work because she’s too busy goofing off.
y/n dropped her stuff in a huff. Her back slumped into the curve of the chair and the desk covered her body happily. She placed her earphones in and played her favourite study music. She was in absolute heaven.
The assignment was kicking her ass, but she was determined to do it. Mr. Holland seemed genuinely excited for what she would write about if she did decide to change the topic. Now though she’s regretting not letting Mr. Holland’s hopes down.
She could find hardly anything online and even if she did it was by some random SJW on Tumblr. That’s what lead her here tonight. In hopes that maybe some privileged white asshole with a degree would have some sources sighted to help her. Unfortunately, she was having trouble with that too.
It was now 11:30pm. She had been at this god forsaken table for two and a half hours now in an endless pursuit of bullshit. y/n had half a mind to give up and just suck his dick for the grade like other girls would in this situation. y/n had to remind herself though, she is a gifted woman with a real talent that should not be wasted on something shitty to please the masses. Did she just quote Mr. Holland?
She caught eyes with Harry in her block, who had two pencils stuck up his nose in an attempt to cheer her up. It did for the most part. y/n wanted to play along but it had seemed someone else had walked through the door at that very moment and Harry threw the pencils out. Harry’s face lit up with red upon the arrival of this mystery person. y/n was interested in who this mystery person was. That is until she saw his face.
Mr. Holland walked up to the library desk in a fit of laughter. His hands smacking the counter and his face contorted in a wide smile. y/n instantly ducked under the table. She could faintly hear their conversation. It just sounded like muffled words until her name popped up.
Jesus Christ. Not now. Not tonight. Why of all night to run into his must it have to be tonight. Maybe I should make a run for it now, bust out of the wind-
“I know you’re under there y/n,” Mr. Holland’s voice sung above her. It was too late now. Any escape plan that her mind frantically tried to rationalise was long gone by this point. Slowly, y/n retreated from her hiding spot to face him. He had his normal outfit of a tight t-shirt paired with a decorative tie and slightly lose pants. This time though he had a long burgundy coat draped over his shoulders. He looked like a painting. y/n smiled sheepishly.
“Hi,” she said simply. Regaining her seat from before and fully appearing in front of him. “I had no idea you would be here this late,” she tried with conversation.
“Harry’s my brother, I have to drive him home before leaving myself and he just wanted to work the late shift tonight,” Tom laughed to himself and he turned around and waved at Harry. His brother waved back guiltily. “You know, I could say this same to you,” he smirked at her.
“I am working on your assignment, sir,” y/n responded quietly. Tom’s eyes lit up at that and he rushed to snatch the papers off her desk and into his hands. Much to the disapproval of y/n.
“Oh good, you’ve decided to change it,” Tom sounded almost relieved as if he trusted her judgement more than his own. Worse of it all, he decided to sit down next to her. Even taking off his coat, making his biceps bulge through his shirt. His eyes flicked through what she currently has. His eyebrows raised in shock, “I have to say, I was not expected you to decide to do something about the female orgasm and its effect on the psyche,” his voice was an octave deeper than usual. y/n could feel her arousal building.
y/n couldn’t decide if he was just being friendly or if he was trying to send a deeper message. Either way, she decided to take action. “Well, with the number of women being unsatisfied I thought it was an appropriate topic,” she snatched the papers out of his hands, “but you wouldn’t know anything about women being unsatisfied would you sir?”
Tom sat there in astonishment. His cock stiffened against the restraints of his jeans, he has only been in her vicinity for 5 minutes and already she has him hard as a rock. It was times like these that he wished he could just leave all his determination to fuck her over this very desk at the door. Regrettably, he couldn’t.
“Well, that just ruins the surprise,” y/n sighed delicately. Her fingers flicking through the pages of her useless book. “Either way, the resources are complete shit,” this time her sadness was real, and Tom snapped out of his lust-ridden haze.
“Did you really expect a man to know mostly everything of something that is so cardinally female?” Tom smirked as he closed the book on her and pointed to the photo of a wrinkled old man. He was the author of a stupid book and to be fair, he looked like he would write this type of book as well.
“Damn, I knew I was doing something wrong,” y/n hissed. She had been spending her entire night trying to piece together information from a man who can only give her half the story.
“The book on the top shelf is one on the chemical effects of orgasming in females by a female,” Tom leaned in and whispered in her ear. His hot breath wafted of her skin; it was enough to send goose bumps over her entire body. y/n turned her head to face him, their lips inches away from each other. If they didn’t have Harry watching them like a hawk, they probably would be out of breath from lip-locking. Instead, y/n nodded and got up out of her seat, making sure to give him a stunning view of her tits through her tank top. He wanted to audibly gasp but kept in inside. It didn’t help with his situation downstairs any more than the last few minutes have.
Slowly, she walked over to the bookcase. Her eyes scanning the endless rows and she made sure Tom had enough time to enjoy the deep red thong underneath her skirt. Finally, her fingers coiled around the book and brought it down to her. Tom couldn’t believe his own eyes. He was so under her spell. The way her top hugged her curved and let his eyes completely drink in her breasts. How her skirt was pulled up to her waist, allowing the flushed skin of her ass to be visible to him. He wonders how a woman like her even exists and yet she takes a seat next to him, absolutely unaware of his throbbing manhood. Begging to be touched by her, to be taken by her, by anything to do with her.
“Thank you, sir,” she almost purrs to him, Tom’s struggling to keep it together. He afraid the next thing to slip out of her flawless mouth, he’ll cum straight into his pants when he would rather cum into her.
“Anytime,” he responds just a dark before getting up. Hiding his clearly hard cock behind his briefcase. “I’ll see you in class?” He already knows the answer, but he just wants the last bit of assurance from her.
“Of course,” she smiled warmly. With that Tom basically books it, he’s frantically making sure he’s well-hidden as he quickly bends over the counter.
“I’ll come back to pick you up in 30, I forgot some paper work back in my office,” it’s so fast, Harry almost doesn’t have time to translate it before Tom’s out the door and rushing down the hall.
At one point, he basically running to get to his office. Feet tapping against the concrete as he continues to see nothing but flashing images of y/n. It blurs his vision and he’s so desperate. He considers using a spare supply closet but know he will only get complete privacy in his own office.
He finally gets there, after what seems like an eternity of running. He checks the hallways before entering. He drops all of his things at the foot of the door. He even has the decency to hang his coat upon the rack. Tom slowly walks over to his chair. It’s a rough leather material and usually he would refuse to do what he’s about to do in here, it will be stained with the memory but at this point. He got no fucks left to give.
He crashes down. His back hitting the material he hates so much. He doesn’t think he’s got time, but he still does it slowly. His belt drops next to his and he undoes the zip slowly and the cold air hits his dick. He hisses at the feeling but proceeds anyways. Tom pulls the rest of his jeans and boxers down his legs and kicks them across the room. His hand takes his dick, slowly rubbing the head. Imaging y/n’s fingers dancing over it, spreading the precum over. He uses his palm to envision her own stroking up and down in an even motion. He can’t help but moan. He can’t help but softly call out her name.
He so entranced that he doesn’t recognize the following light footsteps approaching. He’s so into her non-existent touch that he doesn’t hear the door peacefully squeak open. He’s so in love with the feeling he doesn’t feel y/n walk around the room to get on her knees in front of him.
She’s in glory of his movements. Watching him stroke his much bigger cock than her masturbation version has her in a hurry to get her own panties off her body and across the floor. She’s sure she’s dripping onto the wood below but she does have single care in the world. Tom has his head thrown back in ecstasy as his hand starts to speed up, that’s when y/n decides to go for the kill. She licks a long strip up his shaft. Her hands stabilizing him by placing them atop his bare thighs.
Tom almost jumps out of his chair. He had no idea she caught him in the middle of something so vile and wrong. Better yet, she had caught him with the tip of his dick around her perfectly glossed lips. He doesn’t get to say another word before y/n’s hands begin massaging the bottom of his manhood. It’s slow to begin with, it’s almost if she’s easing him into it. Her cheeks hollow out to allow his length into her warm mouth. It’s incredible. Tom can’t help but buck his hips up into her throat causing her to gag slightly. It’s a sound he wants more of.
His hands ball her hair into his fist. With the faster her movements become, the harder he fucks into her mouth. They sync up almost instantly. One of y/n’s hands leave his cock to fuck herself. Tom’s mesmerised by the way her fingers act as a replacement for his dick. He’s certain he’s not going to last much longer.
“I should be d-doing that,” he whispers through grunts. y/n lifts her head to smile at him, still letting her free hand jerk and pull bringing him closer the edge.
“I know,” she responds, just as quiet. Her mouth reconnects but Tom quickly snaps his hips up into her. Her muffled moaning vibrated against his cock as he fucks her mouth. It’s the hottest thing he’s ever done. He tugs and pulls at her hair, y/n’s edging him on. She’s exquisite, it’s like she’s mastered this and has allowed him to chance to feel how fucking beautiful her little mouth can be.
Like it’s effortless, he comes. Without any warning, he is shooting hot stream of cum into her mouth, filling it up. Tom swears he’s seeing stars but can’t bring him to call out her name but instead bites down on his hand so hard he’s afraid he’s drawn blood.
y/n releases him from her mouth and is from an actual porn Tom spent his teenage years watching, his cum leaks from her lips and falls down on the curves of her tits. It’s a sight he was to remember forever. He wants to grab his phone and click so he will get to look at her covered in his cum for the rest of his life but alas, he’s still regaining his bearings.
“Tastes better than I would have expected,” y/n giggles as she brings the liquid back up to her lips and swallows. There is no way this woman gets better; he thinks to himself.
“Sweetheart-,” he begins but she beats him to it, her gets back on her feet and plants a sweet kiss upon his lips. He can taste himself on her lips, it’s addictive.
“I wanted this,” it’s almost as if she read his mind. He doesn’t respond but he simply looks at her, his hand coming up to twirl a strand of hair that has fallen in front of her face.
y/n pulls away from him, walking over the pile of discarded clothes and bend to pick up her soaked underwear. She gives Tom a look, he’s so close he can smell her juices from his seat. Her pussy look like a paradise waiting to be exploded by him, but he keeps his hands to himself. y/n paced herself over to the coat hanger, her folded panties in hand. She places them in the left pocket with a devilish smile upon her face. Tom had now place their rest of his clothes back on and had joined her.
“I’ll get them back next lesson,” y/n grins. Tom nods quickly, their feet fumbling under her back hits his office door. She’s trapped in between him, he smells of pure sex but she’s committed to her idea. He bends down to capture her lips in his with a forceful kiss. It’s hungry and needy. She wants it so badly to give but she pulls away. “My roommate is waiting for me outside.”
“We’ll finish this,” Tom whispers as he opens the door for her. It sends shivers down y/n’s spine. It’s not a promise, it’s an order.
She grabs the rest of her things and heads off. Almost in a sick turn of events, Tom watches her bare ass strut away from him. Just like the last lesson, except this time all he can do is imagine him face fucking her. It’s a beautiful sight.
━━★✼☆｡
The three days leading up to class where probably the slowest 72 hours both of them had ever experienced. A constant detail of pleasure from the night before. So when the fated day arrived, both parties didn’t know what to do. Tom debated just staying home, though he couldn’t deny he so desperately want just another taste. He thought, if he didn’t show up, all his guilty conscience of a student giving him the best head he’s ever had in his life would simply disappear and he would go back to being a normal teacher. y/n, too, thought of skipping this class for a completely different reason. Perhaps she had got a surge of confidence after hearing her professor call out her name while he touched himself or it could just be the pure scandalous nature of it all. Either way, she wanted to stay cooped up with a blanket while she watched him unravelled. No matter the psyche from the both of them, they went.
y/n stood outside the classroom for a good 20 minutes, unsure of what she should do. Should she go in now and fuck him in the small window or wait and play with his emotions? She hadn’t realised how fast the time had went until she saw other student’s start entering. It was now or never and unfortunately it was going to be now.
The room was smaller than y/n remember when she stepped in. It seemed more wide the last time she came in here. Of course, the last time she came in her, she hadn’t sucked Mr. Holland’s cock.
Her eyes landed on him in a matter of seconds. His back was turned to her as he wrote on the massive blackboard in front of him. y/n could see his muscles flex as he tried to reach for the duster above the board. She bit her lip as she thought of her nails digging into his back as he fucked her. It was a fantasy she had to push to the side.
Tom could practically smell her once she walked in. It was her normal perfume that had been intensified 10 fold. He refuses to turn around, afraid that if he did all his good heart nature would go out the window. Tom could hear the faint clinking of the heels of her shoes walk up the stairs. He so desperately wanted them to come right back down.
“Okay, as you know, you’re assignment is due in 2 weeks and this is going to be the only time I will answer your questions,” Tom’s voice boomed. He hadn’t got a lot of sleep since that night and he didn’t particularly want to do this but he considered himself a kind professor, so he had too.
He turned around and saw the entire class’ hands go straight up in the air. Including y/n, though hers was a little lower. Her eyebrow raised and a small smirk painted on her lips. There was no way in hell he was answer whatever question came out of those pretty lips. She looked even more exquisite than when he last saw her. A tight t-shit that had a stained 50’s logo on it and a pair of tight black jeans, he knew as soon as he spoke to her, he would loose all control on himself.
So he never did, constantly dodging her. Answering every single question, even if half of them were if he was married or worse if he was free Friday night. He will admit, seeing y/n get frustrated every time he passed her to talk to another young female student made him just that tad bit excited.
It was an hour and a half of pure tension. Sure, no one else in the class could feel it but they 100% could. She never felt more out of control and for some reason, she despised it. He kept ignoring her, kept refusing her, kept defying her. It was infuriating, that she wanted to take fate by the hair.
She waited, until every single soul had walked out of the door. She waited until the last gaggle of girls had finished their blabbering to Tom before she starting to strut down the stairs. Tom refused to meet her eyes even when he knew that’s all she did. Glare at him as she stomped past him desk to the classroom door. He heard it lock.
“I wanted to ask you a question,” she almost spat, “sir.”
Tom straightened himself before swivelled around to meet her. She was so livid with him but he knew deep down that all she wanted from him was to have the white chalk from the board rubbed up her back from him pinning her down.
“Fire away,” he responded exactly the same. She stared at him for a moment before strolling towards him. She made sure to swing her hips every other time. She noticed his eyes on her, finally she was getting somewhere.
y/n pressed her chest upon his heaving one. Her face lifting to meet his. They stayed like that for a good minute, just pondering. They listened to each other’s heats thumping against their rib cages. They both desperately needed this.
Never taking her eyes off him, y/n snaked her hand around the side of pocket of her coat, smiling once she found what she left. Her soaked red thong, it was a sight for sore eyes.
“I wanted to ask if I was every going to get payback?” she giggled softly. Tom knew she was playing a game but he had no idea which one it was.
“I don’t think I understand,” he stammered, she strutted away from him until she met the edge of his stainless desk. Her fingers gliding over the wood ever so slightly. She turned her head to look at him. She had a rawness in her eyes; lustful, a sinner’s stare. It would be a look Tom was never forget for the rest of his life.
y/n suddenly jumped on the desk. Her ass moving the papers to the side as she slowly started to unbutton her tight jeans. “I think you do,” it was almost a hiss but he only heard the desperation in her voice. “I want you to make me feel all the things you did that night.”
Tom almost fainted just with that until she dropped her jeans the floor. She had come to class without any underwear on and her wetness was dripping onto the desk. Tom was sure was in heaven but he didn’t want to believe it.
He got on his knees. His hands palming at her soft thighs. Tom didn’t need another incentive, he didn’t need another spur-on. Tom licked a single strip up her folds, y/n bit a moan back. It was like tasting ambrosia or doing cocaine for the first time. He needed more, so he went back in again, this time it was rougher. His fingers gripping at her ass, pulling her closer to his mouth as he devoured as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks. Her hands tangle themselves in his floppy curls, she tugs harshly on his scalp as he adds a finger into her warm entrance.
Tom’s never felt like this before but he doesn’t care. He’s sure people can hear her soft but frantic moaning from outside, but he doesn’t care. He’ll never look at his desk the same way but like everything else, he doesn’t fucking care. Tom curls his fingers in the perfect spot inside of her.
“Just like that,” y/n calls out, her hair now sprawled out on the desk. “I’m going to cum sir.”
Tom feels her walls contract around his fingers as he pulsing faster, her back arches and she trying so hard to force her cries back into her throat. It’s a sight he wants to from above, it’s a feeling he wants to feel inside of her. So, at the last minute, he retracts everything. His tongue leaves her throbbing clit and his finger, which are glistening with her slick, slid out of her.
y/n can’t hold back to whine that leaves her left from the loss of his god-like tongue and fingers. “What the fuck Tom?!” she’s angry with him, she wants to tell him off but before she can do it. One of his hands captures her wrist and slams them against the desk below her, pinning her to it. She whimpers at the sting of pain.
He’s right above her but she can’t see a single thing below her. “Look at me,” he tells her sternly, she does what’s she is told instantly. “You can’t talk to me like that sweetness,” y/n knows there is a venom behind his words even if she speaks in a melody. “I’m not your fucking boyfriend, you don’t call me that.”
Without any warning at all, he pounds right up into her. y/n almost spasms out of Tom’s grip from the wave of pleasure. Tom doesn’t move at all, he stays nuzzled inside her. It’s agonising, almost painful for y/n. Having his perfect cock not jamming into her tight cunt. It’s torture.
“You understand that?” he peppers kissed against the nape of her neck, she’s about to cry out, she’ll do anything. She nods her head frantically, hoping it’s enough. It isn’t. He keeps his hips locked tightly against hers. “Words, sweetness.”
“Yes,” she responds. She can feel him frown against her skin. He pulls right out of her and rams right back in, causing y/n to scream out in pleasure. “Y-yes sir,” she corrects herself and with that, Tom starts a pace. It’s slow and tantalising, he watches amazed at how her pretty folds swallow him up with every thrust. It’s magnificent.
He wants to savour this moment forever. He wants to fuck her brains out for every waking moment of his existence.
“Sir, go harder,” she moans below him. Her wrists bruised from his gripped, but the pain just only contributes in her overwhelming amount of pleasure. His thick cock is so much better than her fingers, no matter how many she adds.
Tom obliges and starts to really pound into her cunt. It’s raw and ruthless, he’s calling out her name now. “Fuck sweetness, you so bloody tight,” he purrs, y/n can’t respond through her chant of curses. “You’re little cunt was made for me, it was made for me to stretch it out.”
The dirty talk elevates her, y/n’s not sure how much longer she’ll last. His filling ever last inch of her. She can feel her tits bounce every time their skin collides. Her wrists are finally let free as he begins to clutch at her naked hips. It’s an experience she’s never felt. The sound of skin slapping and their combined gasping and cursing are the only thing she can perceive to hear. If there was a knock at the door, y/n knows she would have no idea about it.
Perhaps, it’s the pure excitement and morality of this whole situation that makes them both feel like they’re on cloud nine. Her arms snake around his waist, her hands move with every rough thrust into her. She’s gripping onto his back through the material of his tight shirt. Her nails clasping on the contracting muscles. She would have left his back red and sore if he didn’t have the damned t-shirt on to protect him.
“Fuck,” she curses as he started to hit an area inside of her, she never knew existed. “Just like that sir, I am going to cum,” she moans, her forehead against his. They lock eyes again, this time though there is no linger feeling of want or romance. It’s just sex. Dirty, hot, intense fucking.
She’s the first to come undone. The fire now transformed into a raging wildfire spreading across her entire abdomen. y/n throws her head back in ecstasy, her whole vision goes black and she has to bit down against her hand to stop and inevitable pornographic scream to jump out of her mouth. Her other hand clutches his neck, pulling him closer to her.
Tom follows shortly after, his thrusts become sloppy and erratic but never easing up. His cock twitches inside of her before he shots the hot white liquid all inside of her cunt. He pressed his lips against her as his attempt to stop his moan as well but he continues to call out her angelic name against her lips. Once, Tom pulls out of her, he watches in awe. The mixture leaks out of her hole and then pools on his desk. He’s so in love with this woman it hurts.
“I have never cum that hard in my entire fucking life,” she giggles, pulling her top down her flushed tits. As he too, starts to redress himself, he simply stares at her. Watches her retrieve her jeans from the floor and slip them up her bare ass. He spots her shove her panties back into his back pocket, not before she scribbles something down on a torn piece of paper.
“What are you doing?” he asked gently, wrapping his arms around her waist. She nuzzles her face in the crook of her.
“I’m giving you a reason to come make me dinner and then fuck me again,” she explains, “I put my address in there, so hopefully you can’t get lost.”
“You sure about this,” Tom asked hesitantly, y/n now swivelled around to face him. Her warm palm caressed his face.
“I wouldn’t have just done that if I wasn’t,” she places a soft, tender kiss to his cheek. “Make it a Thursday though, my roommate will be out on those nights,” she told him as he grabbed the last of her things and unlocked the door. Tom grins warmly as she makes herself presentable for the last time. “I would clean that up if I were you,” y/n laughed, pointing at the obvious mess all over his desk before quickly exiting.
As she wobbled back to her dorm, she wondered what article of clothing she should leave out on their next escapade.
━━★✼☆｡
a/n: this is gonna flop, i just fuckin know it anways i hope you enjoyed my fic that has ended my hiatus. see you (hopefully) soon
yo i know it’s been like a bajillion years and i’m 17 and should have fallen out of my peterparker phase but do ya’ll like first person or second person.
ENDGAME SPOILERS!!! SPIDER-MAN: FAR FROM HOME SPOILERS!!!
seriously… SPOILERS
also this is only MY interpretation since the movie isn’t even out yet. i did all my research so leave me be!!
Synopsis: You and your father were transported to a separate earth in result of Iron Mans “snap.” Nick Fury explained this all- and he said you would need help from a brilliant man to get back home. What he didn’t explain was that the man who seemingly would be taking over Iron Mans legacy was a boy your age. You know how your father can be and you can see something off with this Peter Parker character- like he’s mentally sore from recent events. What better reason to ward off your father’s illusions with the promise of keeping a young Spider-Boy safe?
Warnings: cussing, mentions of endgame, angst (in future chapters >:))
Words: 1601
A/N: HAHAHHAAHHA i hope it’s obvious who the reader’s father lol. also pulled that synopsis outta my ass- as always. anyways enjoy. this is only part one.
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Your father isn’t who they think he is. He’s not some monster who’s only wish is to be famous. He’s not a bad guy. But he’s also not a good guy. You know, more than anyone, what he’s capable of. What illusions he’s got up his sleeve and just how far he’ll go to get the eyes on him.
That’s why you’re with him now. Not to help him- but to stop him. You don’t know who he’ll hurt on this earth. And the last thing you want is more casualties under his belt. He is your father after all.
You had a great deal of respect for him. You thought of him as ambitious and confident. But you’ve learned he’s more than that- you just can’t tell if what’s under the surface shows that he has a good heart or a speck of something greedy and more dirt ridden.
“This is Mr Beck.” You directed your attention the man you met earlier, Nick Fury. He was talking to a younger boy who was now talking to your father, Quentin Beck. They were giving him the rundown. The whole ‘Iron Mans snap tore a hole in this very delicate metaphysical object that divides our worlds and created a multiverse’ thing. And if your father was lying about this “snap” tearing a hole in the dimension, you weren’t aware.
Thinking about whether this was all an illusion painted in a fucked up picture by your father made you shift uncomfortably in your seat. You brought one knee up to place under your chin and hugged your leg for comfort.
The younger boy looked around the room and you followed his gaze. He didn’t seem to want to be here. Something you two had in common. When his eyes landed on you, the tips of your fingers felt a slight electric shock.
“Uh- Hi I’m Peter… Barker- Parker. Beter Parker. Peter- Spider-Man.” You couldn’t help but grin. His uncoordinated and gawky demeanour held a soft spot in your heart. He reminded you… of a dog of some sorts. A puppy. One very nervous cute puppy.
“This is my daughter-” Quentin began.
“Y/N Beck.” You finished. The corners of Peters’ mouth curled up into a small smile. His floppy brown hair framed his face well, and his deep-set eyes were relaxed. In a way he made you feel like you were home again. “Spider-Man huh?” You picked up your head and dropped your leg so you could fully stand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to- um- meet you… too.” A few moments of silence went by before he let out a soft ‘oh’ and held his hand out for you to shake. You gladly shook his hand and chuckled while doing so.
“No need to be nervous, kid,” Nick said as you let go of Peters’ hand. Fury smacked the inept boys shoulder and walked over beside you. “In a way, she’s just like you.” Parker tilted his head somewhat and squinted. The way his eyes creased made you assume that he doesn’t meet a lot of kids his age who have powers.
“I’m guessing you’ve got superpowers or whatever right?” You asked as you crossed your arms. You grazed your eyes down his chest to see the crimson suit holding a nice spider symbol in between his chest bone. “You turn into a spider or something?” His mouth opened and then shut and he let out a breathy laugh.
“Uh no actually. I mean kinda- No not kinda. I sort of am a spider. Well, it’s hard to explain-” Nick grabbed Peters wrist and pointed it at the ceiling, pressing something on his palm. A thin line of web shot from his wrist and attached itself to the cement above us.
“Holy shit- That isn’t coming out of you is it?” Peter shook off Nicks’ hand and twisted his wrist so he could easily grab the string. He smirked and pushed himself off the ground with his feet so that he could flip and land on the ceiling.
“Nope.” He said from his place upside down. You walked forward as he detached himself from the roof and turned right side up just in time to land on his heels.
“Brilliant! It’s like you’ve made yourself some kind of- of synthetic web fluid-”
“With their own corresponding web-shooters.” You reached out for his hand and turned it over so you could inspect the gadget fastened to his suit. “What can youdo?” You looked up and felt yourself blush.
“Um, n-nothing too special.”
“Yeah right.” Your father spoke up. “Her mind works over two-thousand percent faster than any normal human beings- which gives her the ability to process battle strategies quicker-”
“Not always about battle strategies, dad.” You let go of Peters’ hand and looked to your father.
“Still extremely intelligent.” He combated back.
“But I often get wicked headaches.” You looked to him and then to Nick as he began to speak too.
“I think they’re forgetting to mention the fact that she can manipulate the space-time continuum.” Fury butted in. You looked to Peter who had a shocked look plastered on his face.
“My mind works so fast that the atoms around me make the most sense when aligned in the form of an-… well like an Einstein-Rosen bridge.” You tried to explain.
“I bet she could even open a wormhole with no end to it.” Nick looked to the computers as a small beeping noise occurred.
“It’s hypothetically possible, but as I just said… hypothetical.” Peter licked his bottom lip and nodded. He looked at you like a deer caught in headlights as Nick made his way to the computers where there was another woman working. You didn’t quite catch her name, but she obviously knew what she was doing.
“That’s… so… badass.” Peter quickly wiped his mouth, in case he was drooling, and turned his head straight. “Uh so does your mind thingy make you- like- Sherlock Holmes or something?” You laughed loudly and covered your mouth to try and stop yourself from being too loud.
“You know what? Maybe.” Peter beamed as your laughing fit slowly subsided.
“Looks like we’ve got trouble.” Fury gritted his teeth. “Been here less than a week, Parker, and you’ve managed to get the attention of every goddamn villain in the multiverse.” You walked over to Nick to look at the monitors scattered across the table. Red dots blinked around the city and you sighed. “Good news though.”
“What good news could you possibly have- unless you tell me that I can go back to my hotel and enjoy the rest of my trip.” Peter walked up beside you and crossed his arms. You looked at him and took in his figure. You couldn’t imagine doing this kind of work on your own- you always had your father. You wondered if maybe he had someone like that in his life.
“Well, you got part of that right. The bastard closest to us is right outside your hotel.”
“Shit.” Parker groaned and threw his head down. “Then I better get going.” He uncrossed his arms and turned to leave.
“Wait a minute Spider-Kid- but the good news was that I’m sure if you ask nicely, Beck and his daughter just might help you get rid of these dimension travelling assholes.” Peter fidgeted with his mask in his hands and looked to you and your father.
“You wouldn’t mind would you?” He asked shyly and your father cleared his throat.
“Why not? You need all the help you can get.” You teased and grabbed your armoured gloves from the table.
“Hey-”
“No offence kid but the evil on our world is more complicated than the evil on yours.” Your father patted Peter on the shoulder and walked towards the exit.
“Be careful.” Nick said, directing his attention to the monitor again.
“When am I not careful.” Peter jogged himself over next to your dad.
“I wasn’t talking to you.” Nick looked up from his computer and locked eyes with you. “Was I?” You swallowed thickly and glanced at the floor. When you turned you were met with the confused features of Peter.
“I’m just… clumsy.” You joked with a smile and formed your hands into fists. He stared at you- seemingly not believing you. He had every right to. You were this mysterious random girl from a different earth and you both haven’t even worked with one another.
Peter still stared and you bit your lip. He’s suspicious. He should be. So are you.
“Keep staring. I might do a trick.” You quipped. You took your fists and pulled them up in front of you. Peter, once again, turned his head to the side like a curious puppy as you hit the bottom of your right hand with the top of your left. You broke your hands away from each other and spread out your fingers, which made a medium sized searing hole in front of you. The edges of the hole on the ground were sparkly like firecrackers and you made a ‘tik tik’ sound with your tongue and the roof of your mouth.
To make sure you knew where you were going you took one last two-second glance at the monitor.
“See you on the other side, boys.” You lifted your dominant hand next to your face and gave the two boys by the exit a small wave, still continuing to wave and smile as you walked calmly over the edge- descending into the dark depths of the wormhole you had just created.
summary: after strange’s spell, everybody forgot. peter could walk down the street without having cameras shoved into his face, but he could no longer go into that coffeehouse and talk to his friends like he used to. everybody forgot who peter parker was. everybody except for one.
genre: angst, friends to lovers
warnings: spoilers (obviously), angst, sad peter hours, little bit of canon level violence
The paper in his hand was crumpled, the words on his tongue slurred as his hands sweated from his anxious nerves. His heartbeat thumped erratically in his chest and walking through that open door that greeted his senses to the strong smell of coffee and sweets just about sent him into a spiral.
The girl behind the counter gave him a small, costmary smile, only growing naturally when she saw the person behind Peter and gave them a bigger wave.
Looking over his shoulder he watched as Ned shoved past him, instantly making conversation with MJ as if he wasn’t there.
“Hey Ned,” She gave Peter another small smile as she mouthed in a second, and grabbed Ned’s usual order of the glazed donut, pouring him some coffee she had already made beforehand as they chatted about MIT and other things Peter had missed in the time they, along with the rest of this universe, had forgotten him.
He had to get used to that, Peter reminded himself, he technically no longer existed.
“Hello,” She greeted as she finished talking to Ned, not noticing how Peter’s eyes brimmed with tears, “What can I get you?”
Peter stuttered, just as he always seemed to do around MJ, and looked down at the papers for help, nodding to himself as he muttered encouraging words for himself under his breath.
“I-I’m Peter Parker,” He said slowly, for the first time since that spell was cast and everybody forgot who he was, the words he had practiced a million times before sounding small and insolent.
He wasn’t anybody under that mask. Once he put it on, everybody knew Spiderman. It seemed as though his life was turning backward as even the girl he loved could recognize the masked hero better than him.
But to his shock and surprise, he watched as her eyes widened a bit, the smile dropping as Ned looked up from his seat, his eyes squinting as he tried to get a better look at his face.
Time stopped as MJ instantly whipped her phone out, typing something quickly as she made a quick call, whispering out a quick apology as the person behind the other line refused to pick up.
“D-do you know me? I-it’s me, Peter,” He moved forward, shuffling as hope ignited in his chest, warmth blossoming to the tips of his fingers as he looked from MJ and then to Ned, his lips turning upward into the biggest smile he had ever given somebody, “Peter Parker?” His lungs seemed to stop working as air lodged up in his throat, waiting for her to just say something.
“U-uh no, sorry,” MJ cursed to herself as the line beeped again, the automated voice answering box mocking her as she pocketed the phone, “Sorry about that. What,” She pushed her hair back behind her ears, trying to look as professional as she could as Ned gapped behind her, “What can I get you?”
And just like that, his smile fell, hands to his sides as the paper jeered at him for his stupidity and innocence.
“Oh, um,” His voice fell an octave, hushed as he almost let out a pained sound, “That’s,” He took in a deep breath, trying to sturdy himself back into his factious reality, “That’s o-okay. Can I get a coffee to go, p-please?”
The door behind him swung open, and he once again watched as MJ gave the person behind him one of her real smiles, not the ones she was forced to put on because of her job, but that wasn’t what stopped Peter in his tracks.
He heard a small gasp from behind him, a sound of objects clattering to the floor as he whipped his head around, eyes widening when he saw you.
It had been weeks since you two last talked, since you laughed at his stupid science puns, and it had been an agonizingly long amount of time since he watched carelessly as you ate those stale donuts while MJ and Ned decided different things to write for their college admissions letter.
There were dark eye bags under your eyes, your face no longer the bright and happy one he was so used to seeing, this one much grimmer and saddened as the two of you stared at one another, the silence becoming heavy as you didn’t say anything.
Your mouth opened, fingers touching your hair as you tried to ground yourself, gapping as you took a slow step forward, not caring about your laptop that could have possibly been broken from the fall it took or the way you already chipped phone could have received more damage.
“Peter?”
He decided that he had never heard a more beautiful sound.
No time was spared are you barreled into his chest, arms tightening around him like a python as you shakily whimpered into his neck, your tears falling down like rain droplets, wetting his skin and collar of his shirt as you wept.
You didn’t care if people saw, didn’t care if MJ and Ned stared at you like you just saw a ghost, didn’t care about anything because Peter was here. He was here and alive and holding you as you were the only thing keeping him steady from falling down.
“P-peter,oh god, Peter,” You cried into him, not letting go though he didn’t seem to want to either as your lips wavered, fingers grasping tighter onto the fabric of his back as your chest heaved with wet sobs, “Oh Pete,” That is all you could seem to say as tears moved in like waves and you had no control over them.
For him, it felt like time had stopped as he sensed your familiar scent of warm vanilla, your warm touch now a bit cold but still you as you held him like he mattered. The way you used to do when he was somebody that people loved, when he was the real Peter Parker.
It took you minutes to move away from his body and even then had difficulty as he seemed to refuse to let you go, but you couldn’t not see his face for a second longer, your fingers moving upward as you gripped his cheek in your hands, eyes scanning his face for any cuts or bruises, anything to prove to you why he had been gone for so long without saying anything.
His tears fell down his cheek, splattering on the ground, but the two of you did nothing to wipe either as your hands fell from his face, falling on his chest as you looked at MJ, pointing to him as you waited for her or Ned to say something.
When she gave you a confused shake of her head, asking what was wrong, you felt more tears roll in as you felt the insanity you had been feeling the past few weeks etch its way back into your mind.
You gave him a little push, his feet tumbling back as your lips wobbled in anger, eyes looking at him like he lit the world afire, and you heaved, another sob coming out of your chest as you smacked his arm.
“Where,” You gave his chest another push, but it was weak and he could withstand it, “Were,” Another weak one, your hands folding in on themselves as you crumpled back into his chest, “You?” You seethed those three words out, each quieter than the last, a mix of rage, betrayal, ache, hurt, everything you’d been feeling but didn’t know why seeped out as you hugged him once again.
Peter couldn’t feel anything as he felt your tears on his skin, hands shaking as he scooped you into his arm, his cheek pressed tightly against your head as his thumb moved ever so slowly up and down your back, something he sued to do when you or MJ or May was every feeling sad, something he never thought he’d do again, but here he was.
His mind was reeling, everything was going so fast he could barely breathe, but you were here, you were her and hugging him just like you used to do.
“You know me?”
His voice was barely there, a fleeting whisper as he could barely believe what he was seeing. He heard you give a small, appalled laugh, punching him lightly in the chest as you looked up at him, confused that he’d even ask such a ridiculous question.
“Peter, what the fuck, o-of course,” You lamely tried to wipe at the tears, “Of course, I know you? Y-you’re Peter Parker, right? Or have you changed your name since I last saw you because nobody seems to know who you are! A-and I feel like I’m crazy and insane but you’re here so you have to be real. I-I mean, these past nine years couldn’t have been fake, right? An-” He cut you off, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek as he swooped you back into his arms.
“Was it that electrical guy, d-did he, did he shock you or something? Have you been to the hospital? Why didn’t you tell us, you know we’d come…” You whispered into his chest, defeated as he sniveled something out, almost shocked as he stuttered nonsense to himself.
“Wewouldcome but MJ and Ned seem to have lost their fuckin’ minds because they can’t seem to remember you!” You said, furious now as you looked at the girl and boy behind him.
You snapped out of your trance, struggling to get out of his grasp as you stared the two of them down, shaking in defiant rage as you pointed to him.
“This,” You almost yelled, “This is Peter! Remember? Peter Benjamin Parker? O-or can’t you seem to know your own fucking boyfriend?” Your head tilted to the side in an almost manic way. MJ could barely say anything as she stuttered, looking at Peter and then back to you, “And you,” You moved over to Ned, your finger jammed into his chest as he looked wildly at your face, “Do you not remember Peter? Pete from third grade? Peter with remarkably amazing eyesight? Peter who built the death star with you? That Peter?”
If only you could see the way Peter beamed, at the way his eyes widened and shined so brilliantly, as though you had handed him his world back even if you were just yelling at your friends for no reason.
You remembered him. Everything about him, and he could barely control his childlike glee, the rosy blush that swarmed his cheeks adding some color to his face that had been so pale the past couple of days.
For in the span of those minutes you first saw him till now, Peter deduced that MJ, Ned, Happy, and just about anybody who knew who he was still didn’t know the real Peter Parker.
Everybody except for you.
“U-um, n-no, can’t say I,” Ned looked over at MJ, questioning you and the stranger he had only seen until a few minutes ago, “Can’t say I do?”
You groaned, jamming your palms into your eye sockets as your fists clenched, looking back at MJ to see if anything sparked in her memory, but she just seemed to be apologizing to Peter for your loud outburst.
But Peter could only give her a shaky smile, muttering some things as he pushed past some people to get to you, his hands shaking a bit as he gripped your arms, searching your face to see if you still remembered him.
“Y/n,” Peter had the most gentle hold on your arm, almost terrified that if he touched you you’d disappear, “Can we go outside,” He looked at the small crowd forming, “Please?”
You whipped your head to the sound, your angry look vanishing when Peter gave you a heartbreaking smile, cocking his head to the door as he tried to usher you out.
You couldn’t say anything as you muttered your goodbyes to your friends, letting Peter walk you out because you couldn’t trust your legs, the cold air hitting your face as your teeth clamped down together.
“Pete, come on, you gottatell me what’s going on…” You felt him usher you to an alley, looking behind him to see if anybody was looking, but realizing he no longer had to be conscious about what he said because nobody would look at a boy in an alleyway to find out spiderman’s true identity.
“You know me?” He asked again, fingers carding through your hair as you gave him a slow and timid nod, wondering if you actually were crazy and he was a figment of your imagination this entire time.
“Yes, Pete, I know you. Unless some shit happened in these two weeks-”
“Something did happen,” He quickly said, his hands never leaving your shoulder, “Something bighappened and n-nobody’s supposed to know who I am,” He glanced back at the coffeehouse, “MJ and Ned were supposed to forget me. Youwere supposed to forget me b-but,” He looked back at you as if he could barely believe anything that had just happened, “Y-you know me?” His voice felt so raw, so defeated that despite the millions of questions that swarmed your mind, not one of them mattered as you pulled him into a hug, allowing his tears to fall freely in the expanse of your arms, something he never thought he could do again in such a short amount of time since that spell happened.
“You know me,” He said to himself because he couldn’t believe that somebody still remembered who he was, “You,” He embraced you back so tightly you felt the air in your lungs squeeze out, “Know,” He kissed your forehead as he looked at you, his thumb tracing your cheek to make sure you weren’t just another part of his nightmare, so glad to actually feel skin against his skin, “Me?”
And in that alleyway, with people passing by and the world moving around on its axis, his seemed to stop. Because here, he realized that he wasn’t totally in the dark. That somebody, perhaps one of the most important people in his life, could hug him back as they muttered his name over and over again, a mantra of truth that made Peter Parker somewhat of a person again.
—
As the weeks passed, it seemed as though Peter couldn’t let you go, showing you around his shabby apartment as he tried to slyly wipe the tears away from his cheek, giving you a wet chuckle as you noted about the little star wars figures on his desk and that you’d be sure to bring back more.
It was painful to tell Ned and MJ that something came up in your life to explain the outburst you had, and although they quickly forgave you, it didn’t hurt any less when they moved along the topic as if Peter’s name wasn’t important to them.
You guessed it no longer was.
You waited patiently as he’d pace around his room, reading a book on his bed he tried to come up with different solutions as to why you still knew who he was, every detail about his past that even he had been starting to forget, but he could only blame it on a flaw in Strange’s magic that allowed for this to happen.
His apartment was cold and dark, but he never failed to tell you just how restful you made it with all your visits, with the way you baked him your legendary pecan pie and made it the first thing he had in his rundown fridge.
His suit was tucked away in a corner, and he hadn’t touched it much since that night. Crime had been at a low, and even if it wasn’t, he felt rather nauseous whenever he put it on.
He’d tell you all about his plan in getting back together with MJ, to make her fall back in love with him, with how he promised both her and Ned that he’d come back for them, but his childish promise seemed more difficult to pull off seeing that they had moved to Massachusets a couple days ago.
He found a job at the computer store down the street, one of the last of its kind, and glimpsing at how you had been able to secure that Stark internship a couple years ago, Happy seemed intent on letting you stay as your job in New York continued from the comfort of your room. Moreso, Peter’s, seeing how much time you spent there.
“I just,” You looked up from your laptop as Peter slammed the door shut, kicking his shoes off with an annoyed huff, “I fuckin’ hate it. Seein’ MJ with that dick on her socials and Ned watching Return of the Jedi with Flash…” He flopped down on the mattress, his weight pushing you down a bit as you gave his back a comforting rub, your fingers tugging on his hair as he whined quietly again, moving so that he could situate his head on your thighs, looking up at his ceiling as he pressed a small kiss against your pants, trying for a smile as you began typing away.
“’M sorry Peter,” You glanced down at him, giving him an apologetic grin as you rubbed his shoulders, “It fuckin’ sucks, I know,” You patted his cheek as you went to type something, letting out a frustrated groan when your code didn’t work, forgetting what you were going to say to him when your mind got sidetracked.
He sat up, looking over your shoulder as he read what was on the screen, lips pursing together as he tried to make out what you were doing.
“Need some help?” He offered and had you not been running on two hours of sleep and about seven cups of coffee from the past three hours, you would have said no. But you just pushed it towards him, letting your back fall down as you heaved in a sigh of relief after being hunched for so long.
“When was the last time you slept?” He commented on your drowsy state and you murmured some incoherent words as you gripped onto his pillow.
“What?” He glanced at you, worry taking over his features as you moved in and out of sleep.
“About a day ago,” You gave a loud yawn, “Or two,” You tiredly rubbed at your eyes, “Maybe t-three, actually,” You yawned again, this time louder as you stretched.
Peter instantly put the laptop aside, moving so that you could lay fully on the bed, taking your glasses off as he set them on the little table next to him, folding them as you subconsciously snuggled deeper into his fluffy sheets.
“Oh Y/n,” He muttered some things as you yawned again, letting him place his hand behind your back as he lay another pillow underneath your head, “You gotta take more care of yourself, this isn’t healthy,”
Your lips pouted as you stared at him through your lashes, thoughts running behind that head of yours as your brows furrowed with one another.
“I got'chu though,” You murmured tiredly, your hands searching for his as you gave them a weak squeeze, earning a gentle one back in return.
“I know,” He pressed a kiss to your forehead as he tugged the blanket over your body, “But I’m not always here and you gotta know when to stop, yeah? I don’t have anybody else, so I gotta make sure you’re doin’ fine, okay?” You gave him a slow nod, adjusting your head into the pillow as you gripped onto his hand even tighter than before.
“’M always here,” You muttered slowly, “Nothin’ safer than spiderman’s apartment,” You joked with slurred words, sleep overtaking your features as you nodded off.
“Yeah,” He almost choked as he gave you a tight lipped smile, giving the back of your hand a kiss, “I know,”
Peter gave a small chuckle as he fell on the floor, not letting go of your hand as he used the other one to wipe at his tears.
It felt routine to have his eyes water up at the end of the night. Most of the time, he’d know the reason behind them. Some of them for MJ, for the fact that he was never able to tell her he loved her one last time, for the promises he made in the final minutes he was sure he’d never be able to make. For the fact that he’d most likely never be able to sit down with Ned and just watch a movie and laugh and have nothing else to worry about. Other times they were for May and the fact that her blood still stained his hands, no matter how many times you helped him clean them. On the rare occasion, Happy would plague his thoughts, and even worse was when he heard Tony’s last words, the deaths that lined his conscience whenever he tried to sleep.
But here, it wasn’t for the regret, the pain, the longing he felt regularly.
It was because you held onto him no matter what, that even as you tried to move in your sleep, you held his fingers with all your might. They reminded him that even in the world in which everything lit afire, you were there to put it out. The girl with the large glasses and books overflowing her backpack, the one that painfully waited for him to back after every mission only to watch with tearful eyes as you embraced him once again.
In these hours you reminded Peter that even when everything else he loved had gone to ruin, you never left, even if it wasn’t in your power to decide that, even if the fates above decided who’s string to meddle with more.
You heard a muted sniffle and eyes instantly snapped open, worriedly looking at him as he quickly wiped them away, but you were already shifting so that you sat on the ground next to him, pulling him into your side as you wordlessly hugged him.
Too many nights you’d waken up to get a cup of water only to find him crying silently to himself, so even when he pleaded for you to just pretend that everything was okay and to go back to sleep, you trained yourself in hearing the little sounds he’d make.
“Wanna go sleep?” You gently offered, yawning as you helped him stand up as you led him back to the bed, removing his coat as you folded it and placed it to the side, helping him situate himself on the bed as his cheeks shined in the moonlight that flooded in.
The two of you constantly switched places in taking care of one another, something that was rare before everything happened, but almost felt like clockwork as you began acknowledging that aside from Ned and MJ, who you rarely heard from anymore, Peter was really all you had left.
You went to go to the couch, your usual resting place when you felt him hold your hand, his brown eyes swimming with a mess of emotions as he refused to let go.
“Stay,” He whispered, voice lost to his own mind as he almost beseeched, “Please.”
You had slept in the same bed with him before. There was that one time you refused to sleep on his dirty floor and made him begrudgingly share the right side of his mattress with you, or the one time Ned kept on farting and he made him switch places with you, but never when he was this vulnerable.
But you gave him a slow nod, collapsing in when he scotched aside, letting you find your comfort as you edged into his back, the limited space not big enough to house the two of you in the simplest way, but you made it work.
You didn’t know just how much it eased Peter when you relaxed into his chest, or the way his hand subconsciously found its way across your chest in his sleep and the way you turned around at one point, your breathing hitting each other as the two of you slept as though one.
—
After that, sleeping alone just never appealed to you anymore.
If not for his strange warmth, Peter was a comfort you seek out when alone, and being safely tucked away in his arms, however platonic, surely helped ease your thoughts at night that he wasn’t doing anything idiotic.
He had changed dramatically since the boy you once knew.
He was quieter than before, much more reserved. The nights he went away on patrol were terrible because every siren you heard, every time you saw the clock tick past four you wondered if he’d be coming back.
Every time he left he’d promise he’d return, but it might have been your paranoia from before or the fact that you, alongside a handful of other people, actually knew him, and feared he may never come home.
Of course, he never wanted to leave.
Even though you assured him you’d be fine and could do well on your own, he always seemed to contemplate his departure much longer than he used to in his past, glancing at you and at the colorful array of locks at the door.
His apartment was protected, that much you knew. He had learned some things when he spent that awkward night with Bucky and Sam, but they had shown him some ways to make locks safer, and he had shown you how to turn off the safety on the gun he stored away just in case.
He told you to call him if you even got a papercut, and even though you promised you would, you forgot to call him that one time you accidentally cut yourself when making dinner and got an earful when he came back, fretting over your wrapped up finger as you assured him everything was okay.
But he never really went over what to do in case somebody actually broke in, and listening to the loud thudding from behind the door made you wish he had.
You had called 911 and they had told you they’d be here in a quarter to ten, but the clock on your phone was already read 10:05 so you heavily doubted if those sirens were going to come any closer.
You had called Peter multiple times, always going to voicemail, just as you suspected, and with each lock giving way from under the pressure from the people behind the door.
When he got to voicemail once again you let out a small cry, lips trembling as you tried to cover yourself the best you could with the clothes in the closet you laid hidden in.
“Peter,” You let out a yelp when the door finally slammed down and multiple voices could be heard from the outside, “There are people outside and they just came in and I’m in the closet, I-I,” You limited your voice to a whisper as the people on the other side shouted from one another, grumbling angrily to themselves as they realized there wasn’t anything valuable in the small apartment, “I’m scared, I don’t know what to do.” You shakily admitted, the yelling never stopping as they searched through the cabinets and drawers.
“Check in there!” One yelled to the other and you couldn’t do anything as the footsteps got nearer, ending the call as you tied to make yourself as hidden as possible, the door slamming open as one of the men began searching through the clothing, his eye never catching yours as he yelled back to the man behind him, stating that there was nothing here.
You stayed as silent as you could, not even breathing as the man left, going back to flipping the mattress over as they searched for valuables that weren’t there.
You could see through the crack in the door when a flash of red flew by, screams momentary as Spiderman flew in, his masked face looking wildly around, seeing your face peeking out from behind the wide array of the coats as he let out a sigh of relief, not before he gave the two men what he came here to do.
“You touch her?” He snapped, voice lined with fury, something you had never heard before as the two men looked at each other confused.
“Who? We ain’t touch nobody!” The one with the beard yelled, struggling against his webs.
“If my girl has a scratch on her fuckin’ body you gonna tell me who did it?” Peter’s hand flew to the other neck, his grip tightening as he wildly shook his head.
“We didn’t touch anybody! Didn’t even know somebody was here!” He yelled, words slurring together when Peter removed his hand just a bit, assessing your features as you shook your head, silently telling him that you were fine.
It only took a couple of seconds before he had them tied up and thrown away, letting the police do whatever they wanted with them as he came back, shutting the door with his web as he instantly sprinted to where you were, carefully and slowly peeling you out from your hidden corner as he dusted you off, his hands shaking as he looked over your face, almost not believing what was in front of him.
“A-are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you wanna sit down?” His thumb swatted at the dried tear marks, pulling you into his chest as he hugged you as tightly as he could.
“I’m okay, I swear,” Peter let out a relieved sigh, nodding more to himself as he pulled away from you, only to bring you back in when the fear from minutes before settled deep into his bones.
“I got your voicemail and I swear I’ve never run as fast as I did,” he muttered into your hair, “God,” You heard him groan from above you, “Just about felt my heart stop when I didn’t see ya’,” He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead and you pulled away, giving him a weak chuckle as you tried to wipe away at his tears.
“If I lost you,” He stopped, looking to the side as your hands moved up to touch his jaw, to redirect his focus back onto you, to take the pain away you knew he shouldered so well.
Peter’s hair was messed up from the wind, his cheeks red and tinted with salty tracks, but he had never looked more beautiful than he did now, chocolate eyes finding yours as he felt everything in his stop.
“Y/n, if I lost you I think I’d lose just about everything that mattered to me,” He admitted, his hands never leaving the sides of your face as you whimpered, crying as he kissed the tip of your nose.
“Pete…” You couldn’t finish the sentence as his hands moved down, gently lifting your face up as he placed a kiss to your lips, your breath catching in your throat as Peter kissed away everything you wanted to say.
He stated like tears and blood, but his lips were soft and forgiving. They moved in tandem with yours, greedy and hungry as he lapped away every sort of pain the two of you had felt in these past months.
It didn’t matter that the outside world was slowly catching fire, because here, with Peter kissing you like you were his oxygen and he was a man starved of air, nothing else seemed to matter.
He was rough yet kind, quick as he tried to make sure you were here, that you had been here all along, and you let him move you around, throwing your head back as his lips hungrily moved downward, wet kisses lining your throat as he hungrily marked what was his.
“Peter,” Your hands found purchase in his hair, “Pete, look, I’m okay, I’m okay,” He wanted to almost scoff at the way you thought he was kissing you like his life depended on it just because you were fine.
He moved away, lips bruised, red, and plump as his chest heaved, eyes dark with primal desire as he shook his head, hands gripping your waist with a force strong enough to bruise.
“I know darlin’,” He pressed a chaste kiss to your nose, “I just gotta show you how much you mean to me, can’t wait for a second longer,” And he stuck to his words as he quickly made his way to the bed, laying you down as your hearts intertwined in a peculiar, melancholy yet simple rhythm.
In those months the world forgot Peter Parker, his life was rewritten by somebody who seemed the realize that no matter what sort of power decided to mess with his gloomy, sunken life, you’d always be there.
Peter knew now that love wasn’t what carried you through, or perseverance or the sheer fact alone that you were you and nothing could break the two of you apart, it was that when the world forgot Peter Parker, you could never forget the boy who stole your heart those years ago, the one that made his way into your very mind and refused to leave.
His life would never be the same again, no matter how much he wished it would be. The burden of the world would fall onto his shoulders at the end of the day, a cruel game he’d be tested with at every hour, but he swore that as long as he’d have you, he’d do whatever he could to make this cruel life somewhat sweet again.
“Stop! Peter, stop!” you laugh and giggle as he pokes at you.
“What? What? What do you mean?” Peter laughs and lunges to wrap his arms around you, pulling you back against his chest as you both laugh.
“S-stop,” you wheeze, “the food is ready. We have to go.”
“Oh? You want food more than to hang with me?” he raises his eyebrow at you.
“Hm, you or food? I think I’ll pick food!” you say and try to laugh and get out of his grip.
“Wow, ok. Food doesn’t save the world, though,” Peter jokes.
“Wanna bet?” you laugh.
Peter laughs and shakes his head, finally letting his arms go lax and let you go. “I don’t know what’s hurt worse, my feelings or my ego,” Peter says in a fake hurt tone and sad look.
“Stop! Peter, stop!” you laugh and giggle as he pokes at you.
“What? What? What do you mean?” Peter laughs and lunges to wrap his arms around you, pulling you back against his chest as you both laugh.
“S-stop,” you wheeze, “the food is ready. We have to go.”
“Oh? You want food more than to hang with me?” he raises his eyebrow at you.
“Hm, you or food? I think I’ll pick food!” you say and try to laugh and get out of his grip.
“Wow, ok. Food doesn’t save the world, though,” Peter jokes.
“Wanna bet?” you laugh.
Peter laughs and shakes his head, finally letting his arms go lax and let you go. “I don’t know what’s hurt worse, my feelings or my ego,” Peter says in a fake hurt tone and sad look.
“Mhm, yeah, I’m sure you can talk to Tony about that ego thing. He probably has something to fix that,” you snicker and head toward your bedroom door. Peter gasps and runs at you again, making you laugh and try to open the door to get away from him, only to get trapped between his arms and the hallway wall. “What, did I lie?”
“No… guess not,” he smirks.
It’s a moment of silence as you both look at each other, all while he has you pinned to the wall, and after a moment, you lean up and place a tender kiss on his lips. He melts into the kiss, leaning his body more on yours.
“Ahem.” You pull away at the sound of someone clearing their throat. “There are kids here, ya know? Keep all the ick somewhere else,” Darrell, your brother, says. “And the food’s ready.”
You laugh and roll your eyes, turning to walk toward the kitchen, Peter not far behind. You both walk into the kitchen, the smell of food hitting your nose and making your mouth water.
You and Peter walk toward the living room, wanting to sit on the couch and wait for your mom to give the ok that everyone can eat. “What are you doing?” you look confused at Dominic, Darrell’s twin brother.
“There was a spider, and I don’t know where it went,” he says, spraying near the ceiling but also out into the air.
“Stop spraying that stuff everywhere. We’re about to eat,” you say.
“What? Scared of a little buy spray?” he mocks, turning the can toward you and spraying some at you.
It was only a little, but the bottle he’s using sprays a large area, so it didn’t only hit you, but it hit Peter also.
“Ugh. Really?” you scrunch your face and scoff, Peter starting to cough behind you. “Ma! Can you get your son and tell him to stop trying to kill us all with this bug spray!” you yell toward the kitchen.
“BOY! Stop using all my spray and sit down!” you hear her yell over the sound of Peter still coughing.
“I was just trying to get the spider!” he whines.
“Imma put a spider in your food if you don’t sit yo butt down and put my can away!”
Dominic turns around and gives you a mean look before leaving the living room. It’s now that you realize Peter is still coughing. You turn around, seeing him with his face buried in his arm as he wheezes. “Hey? You ok?’ you ask, concern in your voice as you put your hand on Peter’s arm.
He tries to stop coughing, but it turns into wheezes for air. "C-can'tbeathe! Can'tbreathe!” he says franticly, pointing to his throat and desperately trying to get air into his lungs.
Your eyes go wide, and you notice how pale he now looks. His eyes beat red, and tears started to run from them. “Peter? Hey, hey, Peter!” Peter falls to his knees, clawing at his throat and feeling it squeeze closed.
“Is everything ok? What’s wrong? What happened?” your mom asks her, and Marcus, your other little brother, comes to find out what all the commotion is.
You thought for a moment, and it started to sink in. Peter got hit with the bug spray. Technically, he’s part spider. He could be dying.
Peter starts feeling dizzy, and you get on your knees so you’re level with him. “Pete, I- I don’t know what to do…” you put your hands on his face. You thought hearing Peter gasp for help was bad, but then he goes completely silent, and your heart skips a beat. He stops making noise altogether, his eyes glazing over and his body feeling heavy. His weight leans into you, his head falling to your shoulder. You’d think he went unconscious, but there’s still the tiny movement of his body trying every few seconds to inhale.
You scramble to get your phone, quickly finding Tony’s contact. “Mr. Stark! Peter got hit with bug spray! I- I think he’s dying.”
Tony is quick to understand and told you to wait. He’d come as quick as possible with a solution. But who knew how long Peter had. Maybe his body could fight the spray, but maybe it can’t. Maybe there’s no way to save him at this point.
Within 10 minutes, there’s a knock on the door. Tony. You let him in and ignore the looks of surprise and confusion you get from your family. “What’s that?” you ask, watching him kneel down to your unconscious boyfriend laid on the floor and pull out a vile.
“A sedative,” he says, lifting up one of Peter’s sleeves and sticking it to his arm.
“Wait- sedative?? Won’t that stop his body from fighting the spray?!” you say, a little louder than you liked.
“You the scientist?” You can only blankly stare at him, closing your mouth from saying anything else. He sighs, “The sedative will settle his senses and powers, meaning he’s more normal for the moment, and instead of attacking him, his body will react more normally. Meaning not at all.”
Like on cue, Peter’s eyes shot open, and he woke up with a sharp gasp of air. “What? What happened?” he pants, still trying to catch his breath. You sigh and get down next to him, pulling him into a hug.
“You’re gonna need some rest, kid,” Tony speaks up, pulling your attention to him. He nods, still not fully understanding why but agreeing. Tony stands, turning to your family -who’s standing like deers in headlights- and smiles. “So, what are we having for dinner?”
“Darrell, come help me,” you say, standing and trying to help Peter up.
He snaps out of his daze and walks over. You don’t miss the hint of hesitation in his walk. He lets Peter put his arm around his shoulders, and both of you start walking him back toward your room. You make it to your room and help him on your bed, turning to Darrell, who’s still just standing there, not really knowing what to do.
“Get out,” you say with a fake smile and push him back through the door, closing it behind him. You let out a breath and turn back to Peter, climbing in bed with him and laying back. “How ya feeling?”
“Like I got sprayed with death,” he mumbles, turning and climbing on top of you, getting under the blankets and laying between your legs, the back of his head laid on your stomach.
You bring your hand up and run it through his hair. “Yeah, guess the bug spray is a big no no,” you say gently. He hums in response, closing his eyes and letting them rest.
You stay like that for about 3 minutes before your door slowly opens, the rest of your family, and Tony with a plate in his hand behind them, steps through. Your mom is the first to speak up. “You got a lot of explaining to do.”
You internally cringe, knowing there’s really no way out of this. You glance at Tony, who has a face full of food and is no help, but you feel one of Peter’s hands on your leg, slowly stroking it gently like he’s saying it’s ok, that you can tell him.
You take in a slow breath. “Yeah. Guess now is as best of time to let you guys in on everything.”
Returning to school on Monday morning was the most difficult part. All weekend, you didn’t receive a single sign from Peter. Your phone didn’t show any notifications from him, not a call, or even just a text, absolutely nothing. It tore you up inside trying to think of what you could’ve done wrong. Everything seemed to have been going so well. MJ tried to hit you up a couple times, asking why you left early from the dance and if everything was alright, but you didn’t feel like talking to her. You didn’t feel like doing anything, really. You just felt devastated, and sad, and broken hearted. All this time you had convinced yourself that Peter was a good kid, that he was someone you could really trust, that he wouldn’t be the kind to hurt you or use you. But now, you just felt foolish and stupid.
With whatever sliver of confidence you had left within yourself, you cleared your throat nervously and clutching your lunch tray, made your way to the cafeteria table. Just because Peter didn’t want to talk to you anymore didn’t mean you were going to end your friendship with Ned and MJ. You had been sitting at their lunch table every day now and it would be weird all of a sudden not to. “Hey,” you gave a weak smile as you approached, setting your tray on the table and sliding into a seat. You made eye contact with Peter and he instantly looked away, grabbing his tray and getting up, leaving the cafeteria. You stared, shocked and angry, watching as he left. “Are you shitting me?”
“Y/n-” MJ’s eyes softened, reaching out a hand to comfort you and you recoiled.
“No, that was, that was such a shit move,” you shook your head, refusing to feel sorry for yourself anymore. “Is he really going to be that immature?”
“He’s just-” Ned went to vouch for him but you held up a hand, cutting him off.
“He couldn’t even bother to look me in the eyes,” you muttered. “Did I really do something that bad?” You glanced down at your lunch, realizing your loss of appetite and got up, throwing away your food and marching out of the cafeteria yourself, frustrated and furious.
During chemistry, all you could manage to do was look back and glare at him. You hated Peter Parker. You decided to be brave and try to befriend him, open yourself up and be vulnerable for once, actually try to make a move with a guy you liked, and this is what you got in return. With no explanation or warning, he just left you, as if you meant absolutely nothing to him. In the middle of the homecoming dance much less. And now, that you were trying to still give him a chance and sit at his lunch table, he straight up ditched you? It made you feel worthless and you hated it. Once the bell rang, you made a bee line towards your locker and tried to go on with the rest of your day as quickly as possible. You told yourself to save your tears for when you got home. You couldn’t cry, not here anyways.
“Miss y/n, you seem distressed and dehydrated. Would you like water delivered to your room?” JARVIS chirped and you groaned, burying your face in your hands as you entered your bedroom, angrily throwing your bookbag to the ground.
“I’m just fine, JARVIS,” you grumbled, letting out a sigh and sitting on the edge of your bed, staring blankly at your phone. You didn’t know what to expect. He hadn’t reached out to you all weekend, and he couldn’t even talk to you at school, there would be no reason for him to do it now. “Fuck you.” You threw your phone across the room, trying to ignore the tears welling up in your eyes, when you heard a knock on your door.
“Hey sweetie, can we talk? I know you haven’t been doing too well lately,” your dad’s voice came from the other side of the door. “I haven’t seen you in the lab once, and I know that’s your favorite place to be. Something’s up. Please talk to me.” He knocked again and you stared, wondering if you should tell him or not. When he and Happy picked you up from the dance, you didn’t explain what had happened. You just said that you felt sick and you wanted to go home. He didn’t pry too much, and you were grateful for it, but now, you almost wanted to tell him. You wanted your dad to kick his ass, just like he promised he would. “Is it okay if I come in?”
You wiped the tears off of your cheeks and walked to the door, opening it and instantly falling into his arms, hugging him, crying harder. “I’m sorry,” you sobbed into his chest and he stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do, clearing his throat and patting your back.
“Hey, hey let’s uh, let’s take this over there, okay?” he walked you over to where you were both sitting at the edge of your bed, him handing you a box of tissues as you blew your nose, red eyes glancing at his concerned eyes and furrowed brow. “What’s the matter, kiddo?”
“Peter Parker is a major asshole,” you sniffled, shaking your head. “I thought that uh, that he was nice and smart and handsome and charming, but he’s just a dick. Just like all the other boys.”
“Oh, that Parker kid?” Tony raised an eyebrow, looking a bit hesitant. “The boy who took you to the dance? He seemed awfully nice. What did he do?”
“All night he kept avoiding me like I was the plague or something, and it made me feel awful. And he wouldn’t talk to me or even look at me. And then this song came on, and I wanted to dance, and he uh,” your voice broke and you shook your head, shutting your eyes tight, trying to hold yourself together. “He told me that we weren’t working out. And he said that asking me to the dance was a big mistake.”
“Honey…” Tony put a hand on your shoulder and you just cried more.
“I really liked him, dad,” you confessed. “I was… I was hoping he was the one.”
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. Sometimes boys are just assholes,” he sighed. “I don’t know what to tell you.”
“I just- I can’t seem get over the fact that he never told me why,” you argued. “I doesn’t add up. We were doing so well, and I felt like we were really close, and then that night. He came to the door and he seemed different. And you talked to him and…” You paused, widening your eyes, putting two and two together. “What did you tell him, dad?”
“W-what?” he looked caught off guard and you hardened your piercing gaze, glaring at him.
“That night, when he picked me up for the dance,” you specified. “You talked to him and everything changed. What did you tell him?”
“I didn’t say anything,” Tony lied, although you could easily see the fear in his eyes.
“Bullshit,” you spat. “All night he looked terrified and nervous. You told him something that scared him off, I know you did. He wasn’t like this until he talked to you.”
“Look, Pete? That kid… he was trouble, okay? He was going to hurt you,” your dad finally broke and you stared at him, shocked and confused and infuriated all the same. Tony shrank back and you shook your head, enraged. “I was trying to protect you, I told him that I didn’t want him around you. Trust me, y/n, he might seem nice and all, but I know boys like him-”
“Like hell you know boys like him!” you shouted, angry. “Dad, he was the best thing that ever happened to me! Do you know how happy he made me? How much this meant to me? And now, just cause you’re scared that your little girl is growing up and she’s might get her heartbroken, you took away the only chance I ever had?” You ran your hands through your hair, pressing your lips together, feeling doubly betrayed.
“He was no good for you!” Tony persisted. “He was going to hurt you anyways.”
“Peter Parker was the sweetest boy I’ve ever met in my life,” you refused to believe his words. You stared at him, feeling broken and exhausted. “Dad, if you really cared about me then you would’ve known how much I wanted this.” You shook your head, walking to the door.
“Y/n. Y/n!” he called after you but you ignored him, marching to the elevator. He chased you out of your room. “Where are you going?”
“If you knew me then you would know,” you insisted, letting the doors shut and racing out onto the streets of New York, trying as best as you could to remember the address of that little apartment Peter showed you in Queens.
Thankfully, when you arrived, May had no problem with letting you in. “Is it okay if I talk to Peter?” you asked nervously and she smiled sweetly.
“Of course, sweetheart,” she responded. “He’s in his room right now working on homework. Feel free to just knock.”
And so you did. Standing outside his bedroom door, he opened it, blinking at you, shocked. “Y-y/n? I didn’t expect you to-” he stammered as you roughly brushed past him, quickly shutting the door behind you, facing him with your teary eyes.
“Fuck you,” you stood in front of him, eyes stinging, hands shaky, overwhelmed with emotion. “Why would you do that to me?”
“Y/n, I didn’t mean to…” he seemed so broken up, but you just stared at him, devastated. “I’m sorry.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked, desperate for some sort of reasoning on his part. “You made me feel so stupid, like you didn’t even like me back, and I felt so angry at you. You couldn’t even look at me at the dance, and then at the lunch table today, god, I just- I get it. My dad scared you or whatever, but fuck Peter- why didn’t you tell me? It’s like you just decided to give up on-”
In the middle of you talking he cut you off, pressing his lips to yours, and you melted into the kiss. It was soft and warm and sweet and apologetic and when he pulled back, he looked at you, nervous, scared. “I’m sorry, y/n. I really am,” Peter insisted, reaching to grab your hand, holding it in his, brown eyes apologetic and genuine. “I’m an idiot. I should’ve told you, and I shouldn’t have done what I did, and I’m sorry. But I um, I also should’ve been honest.”
You looked up at him, biting the inside of your cheek, eyes blurry, still remembering the imprint of his lips against yours. “Go on.”
“I like you a lot, y/n. So ridiculously much. But I haven’t been completely honest with you, because I was scared, and I’m sorry about that,” he apologized. “The truth is, your dad didn’t want you to be with me because he was afraid that I’d put you in danger. The same way he puts you in danger.”
“What are you talking about, Peter?” you stared at him, but he only squeezed your hand tighter, struggling to find the words to say.
“He wasn’t going to let me tell you, or anyone really, and that’s why he didn’t want me near you, but I care about you so much and I don’t want to keep any more secrets between us…” he shook his head, looking up at you again. “You know how your dad is Ironman? And by you being his daughter, you’re constantly in a state of danger simply through association?”
“Yeah…” you trailed off, confused as to where this was going.
“Well-” he instantly shot up his free hand towards the ceiling of his bedroom and a small trap door fell down, making you shriek and jump towards him, a blur of red and blue falling from above. You jumped into his arms and he laughed slightly, holding you tight, and your eyes fixated on the clothing hanging from the ceiling, mouth agape. The red and blue fabric was part of a suit, a spider emblem etched in the center of the chest piece, bionic eyes sewn onto the mask, making your own widen.
“Holy shit,” you gasped.
“I’m Spider-Man,” he whispered in your ear and you stared at the suit dangling from the ceiling, watching as he shot his free hand up again, swinging the trap door shut and swiping the suit up with it, cleverly tucking the secret away in the ceiling. Your eyes widened before looking back at him, and he seemed scared, waiting to see how you would take it.
“What the fuck, Peter?” you blinked at him, partially terrified.
“I know, I know it’s a lot,” he smiled apologetically. “But I wanted you to know. And that’s why I know your dad, through the superhero stuff. When we first started working together and he found out we went to the same school, he specifically told me that he didn’t want me near you, but I uh, I really couldn’t help myself.” He blushed and shook his head, sobering up. “When he found out I was taking you to the dance, he got mad, because he knew I blatantly ignored his orders, and he thought that if I was around you, then you would be in twice as much danger as you already are. He told me I wasn’t allowed to be with you anymore, and I got scared, and I didn’t know what to do. So I cut you off completely, and I’m sorry.” He shut his eyes tight, tears of his own starting to surface. “That’s so fucked up, and unforgivable, and horrible, and I am so very sorry I put you through that.”
“I just thought maybe you hated me,” you whispered, hugging him tightly, sighing and trying to drink it all in. “But now, I think I’m slowly starting to understand.”
“I shouldn’t have let anything get in between us,” Peter acknowledged. “I really do care about you, y/n. So much.” He paused. “Actually, that night, before the dance, on my way to your house, I was planning to ask you out. And make us official.”
“Really?” you looked up at him, wondering if you should allow yourself to be hopeful again, so soon.
“Really,” he smiled. “I see where he’s coming from, but in the end, I shouldn’t have let your dad scare me.”
“He’s an overprotective jackass of a father,” you sighed. “But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love him.”
“He’s a good guy, Mr. Stark,” Peter admitted. “You’re really lucky to have a dad like him. He cares a lot about you.”
You nodded your head and hummed in agreement, pausing for a moment. “What are you going to tell him?” you wondered softly, both of you still holding each other, Peter’s fingers running through your hair. “When he finds out?”
“I think I simply might just tell him that I don’t care,” he murmured, shrugging softly. “Cause I really do care about you. And I would do anything to have you back in my life again, because you make me really happy, you do. And I know that I can’t have a normal life, but I can at least try. That would be fair, right?”
“I think so,” you replied. “Why do you care so much, anyways? When you have your other things to worry about, like uh, like the Spider-Man…”
“Cause you’re beautiful, y/n. You’re smart and you’re bold and brave and funny and you always make me smile. When I’m with you it’s like I could stay there forever, and I can’t help but stare at you whenever I see you, and you just-” he looks at you, eyes sparkling, sighing. “You’re the most amazing girl I’ve ever met in my life, y/n. Really. And I’d be damned if I let anyone take me away from you.”
“Sooo…” you giggled, looking up at him, your arms draped around his waist. “Does this make me Spider-Man’s girlfriend?”
“If you’d like to be,” he grinned.
“I don’t think there’s anything I could possibly want more,” you confessed, kissing him again, him holding you in his arms. You couldn’t imagine yourself being with anyone else.
It seemed as though after spending that evening in his apartment, everything between you and Peter changed. There wasn’t any awkward tension or tip toeing around your feelings. You could simply just feel and not have to be ashamed or embarrassed by it. He started going to meet you at your locker before school, complimenting you on whatever outfit you were wearing, and holding your hand, which was your personal favorite. It was like a reminder that you were finally his. Although neither of you clarified whether you were officially dating yet or not, it was obvious something had changed in your friendship. MJ and Ned were quick to point out this change, teasing you two relentlessly but also congratulating you both.
Even outside of school, Peter was still tugging at your heartstrings. He sent you adorable texts and even facetimed you before bedtime to talk. One morning before school he had even gotten you some iced coffee, and another day offered to walk you home. He was definitely the sweetest boy you had ever met, and you found yourself falling harder and harder for him each day. As the dance approached, Pepper helped you slowly get ready. She went out with you to find the perfect dress, one that complimented your eyes and cascaded down your hips, as well as some matching jewelry. She also briefed you on some dance lessons just in case your brain went blank in the middle of a slow song. You giggled to yourself as you imagined Aunt May doing the same with Peter.
Before you knew it, the night had finally arrived, and you were excited and nervous all the same. Staring at yourself in the mirror, fancy hairstyle framing your makeup painted face, you smiled. You wouldn’t have wanted to spend this night with anyone else but Peter. Walking down to the lobby you smiled at your dad, beaming at you with teary eyes. “You look absolutely stunning, y/n,” he gave you a big hug. “Can’t believe my little girl’s all grown up.”
“Best believe it,” you smirked. “I’ll be up and off to college before you know it.”
“Ah you won’t be gone long,” he shook his head. “I know you’ll breeze right through it. You’ve got your father’s brains.”
“If only she had your confidence too,” Pepper teased. “Then she’d be unstoppable.”
“Yeah right,” you scoffed. “I’m a teenage girl in high school, dad. You probably have more confidence than all of us combined.”
“A visitor has approached the door. Would you like me to let him enter, Mr. Stark?” JARVIS chirped through the building and you felt giddy, heart beginning to race.
“That must be Peter,” you smiled and you saw your dad tense behind you as you rushed towards the door.
“Peter?” he raised an eyebrow, clearing his throat awkwardly.
“Yeah,” you opened the door, proudly presenting your date to your father.
He stood there in the doorframe, just as you imagined, but almost even better. Hair swept back neatly, sporting a tuxedo and a bowtie, smelling faintly of cologne, he was handsome as ever. You wanted to kiss him right there on the spot. “Y/n! You look beautiful,” Peter gasped and you blushed, looking up at him, shy.
“Thank you,” you whispered. “You look very handsome too.” Your dad stepped out from behind you to get a good look at the boy and you stepped back to let them introduce themselves, noting the almost surprised look on both of their faces. Did Peter really think you weren’t going to introduce him to your family?
“Nice to meet you sir,” the boy extended his hand, looking a bit jittery. “Peter Parker.”
“Tony Stark…” your dad drew out his voice, seeming very off, and you stared at him strangely, confused. They shook hands slowly, both staring at each other weirdly, and you narrowed your eyes at the interaction, letting Peter step into the room and watching as the two of them struggled to find words to say.
“Big fan of your work,” Peter nodded slowly, smiling anxiously, entire body tense. “You’re a good man, Mr. Stark.”
“Going to keep my daughter safe tonight, Mr. Parker?” your dad asked, ignoring Peter’s praise, and you rolled your eyes, sighing, slugging him in the shoulder playfully.
“Y-yes sir, of course, absolutely,” Peter insisted, almost as if trying to convince himself, and Tony hummed, still skeptical. Your father turned to you and you instantly felt strange yourself, hoping everything was okay.
“Mind if I have a couple words with Petey here?” your dad asked and you stared at him quizzically.
“Sure, is everything alright?” you turned your head to the side.
“Of course, you know, just the regular don’t hurt my daughter or I’ll hurt you type of talk,” he reassured and you chewed on your inner cheek, looking up at him, hesitant.
You lowered your voice, leaning into his ear to whisper. “Just don’t mess this up, okay dad? I really like him,” you pleaded, and he smiled softly, nodding.
“It’ll only be a couple minutes,” Tony replied. “Why don’t you go out and wait with Happy in the limo. I’m going to talk to Mr. Parker for a little bit.”
Reluctantly, you followed his instructions, going out to wait in the backseat of the vehicle with Happy. Meanwhile, your father confronted Peter in the lobby, pulling him aside so that they were alone. “Look, Mr. Stark, I can explain really-” Peter began but Tony shook his head, shutting him up.
“No. What did I tell you?” he asked bitterly, taking off his glasses, cursing. “Shit. You’re not supposed to be doing these things, kid. And with my daughter? Are you serious? You have a job, people to protect, yourself to worry about. You can’t be involving other people who could potentially get hurt, just so you can boogie for a night in your high school’s gymnasium.”
“I know, I know. But it’s so much more than that,” Peter sighed, apologetic. “And I swear, I wasn’t the one who approached her Mr. Stark, I would never try to mess with your daughter. I know you told me already and everything, but I swear, she approached me. And I didn’t want anything to happen but she just, she’s really a great girl, Mr. Stark. She’s so smart and funny, and she kept asking me to hang out, and we kept talking and I- I couldn’t help but catch feelings. And there was this dance coming up and my aunt, you know my aunt, she kept bugging me to ask someone, and the only person I could think of to bring was-”
“Her. Okay, I get it, kid,” Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair. “But I don’t think you understand. She likes you. A lot. She’s really fallen hard. You’re all she ever talks about. And I’m just afraid if this keeps happening, whatever this is between you two, something bad could happen. You having these powers, being, you know, Spider-Man… It’s a full time gig. There’s no option for girlfriends, Peter. If something ever ends up happening to her, that’s not only going to be on me anymore. That’ll also be on you. And you’re just a kid, I don’t think you’re ready for that yet. I don’t think anyone ever is.”
“I promise I’ll be careful, Mr. Stark. I’d never let anything happen to her, I care about her a lot. I really do,” Peter swore.
“It’s not a matter of how much you care, Romeo. You can’t control things like this,” Tony argued. “Think of what would happen if anything happened to her. If anything happened to you! She’d be devastated. She wouldn’t be able to take it. And if you two stay together, she can’t know. She can’t know about any of this, about your powers or your suit, or the fact that we already know each other. It would be based upon a lie. And she doesn’t deserve that.”
“So what? I’m just not allowed to have a girlfriend?” Peter began to get annoyed. “I can’t be a normal high schooler sometimes? I’m not allowed to bring the girl I like to one school dance?”
“Look kid, none of this is normal. Not a single bit of it. And I know that’s not fair to you, but that doesn’t mean it has to be unfair to anyone else either, okay? Being a superhero, that whole gig, being Spider-Man, that comes before anyone else. Especially girls, no matter who that girl is,” Tony explained. “I’m sorry, but no means no. You just can’t have both.”
“And apparently I can’t choose either?” Peter stared at him, desperate, but Tony insisted.
“Being a hero means doing the right thing,” he said firmly, finalizing his statement. Stark looked at the boy, noticing the sadness in his eyes, and shook his head. It was for the best. “Now go. Have a good night. Give her something to remember. Take care of her.” There was a pause and he sighed. “You can plan on telling her tomorrow.”
Peter blinked at Tony, trying not to either punch him in the face or start crying, watching as your father walked away, unsure of what to think or do. He wanted to swing away, to the highest rooftop, and scream at the sky. But he couldn’t. He had a dance to go to and a girl to take care of. A girl he couldn’t even keep if he wanted to. Walking silently to the limousine, he opened up the door, and you greeted him cheerily, but he remained quiet, making you concerned, furrowing your brow. “What’d he talk to you about? You were in there for a while, I thought you’d never come out,” you chuckled, trying to lighten the mood, but he still looked different. Almost sad. “You okay, Peter?”
“It’s fine,” he shook his head. “He just uh, he told me to have a good time.” He gave a fake smile and you stared at him, concerned, wondering what the fuck your dad just did to make him look so goddamn depressed.
“A-are you sure that was it?” you wondered, and you could pick up the same type of tension on Happy. It was like everyone knew something you didn’t.
“Yeah, just forget about it,” Peter insisted. “It’s fine.”
When you arrived to the dance though, he seemed distracted and distanced, making you worry even more. Ned and MJ greeted you both with their dates, and you all poured glasses of fruit punch and took silly photos at the booth. When it came time to dance, you begged Peter to join you, and you swayed your hips to the music and twirled around in circles, trying to get him to loosen up, but he still seemed off. “What’s up with Peter?” MJ finally cracked as soon as you had stepped away from the boys and you shrugged.
“He’s been like that ever since he picked me up from my house,” you frowned. “I feel like something’s wrong.”
“Did you ask him about it?” MJ wondered and you sighed.
“Several times, but he won’t tell me what’s up,” you replied. “I’m almost scared it might be something I did. We were fine until he came over. Maybe the tower and my dad and everything scared him off.”
“I don’t think so, Peter doesn’t seem the type to ignore you,” MJ insisted. “Just let me know if I can help. I hope you figure it all out soon.”
“Thanks,” you gave a sympathetic smile. “Me too.”
“Best of luck, buddy,” she winked, going off to grab some snacks.
You shook your head, hoping everything would work out. Maybe the dance was just making him nervous. You made your way through the sea of people crowding the gymnasium, trying to find a familiar face. A slow song began to play, one of your favorites, and you instantly rushed towards Peter, holding out your hands. “Come on,” you begged. “Slow dance with me? Please?”
“S-sure, of course,” he smiled, getting up from his chair, making his way to the middle of the dance floor with you. He set his hands on your hips and you rested your arms on his shoulders, smiling as you looked into those hazel eyes you grew so fond of, thinking about just how much he meant to you. Sure, it started off as a silly little crush, having your eyes out for the smart nerdy boy in your chemistry class, but now? You felt like Peter was your best friend, and you wanted him to be something more. He was easy to talk to, to relate to, to be around. When you were with him, it was like the entire rest of the world disappeared.
“Can I tell you something?” you wondered and Peter looked at you, caught off guard.
“Uh yeah, yeah, sure,” he agreed. “But um, I have something to tell you too.”
“You do?” you raised an eyebrow, interested. You secretly hoped it was the same thing. “Maybe you should go first.”
“Are you sure?” he looked quizzical, almost unsure of himself.
“Mhmm,” you smiled, still swaying your hips, looking into his eyes, hopeful. What if he was going to tell you how much he liked you too? Or what if he asked you to be his girlfriend? What if he told you he loved you? No! No way. That would be way too soon. Wouldn’t it? Your heart raced as you watched him struggle to find the words to say, excited as ever, but as soon as they left his mouth you wished he had never said them at all.
“I don’t really think this is working out,” he whispered and you stared at him, beginning to feel your heart shatter into a thousand pieces.
“W-what?” you stammered, freezing in your place, confused.
“Us,” Peter clarified, looking down at the floor, embarrassed. “I think I made a mistake. Asking you to the dance. And I’m sorry.”
“Wait, what?” you almost laughed, trying to convince yourself this was all some crazy prank or something, but you looked up and saw the pain and sadness in Peter’s eyes and you suddenly knew something wasn’t right. Maybe that’s why he had been acting so weird. Did he regret asking you to the dance? He seemed so excited when he had asked you. And he had told you all week how much he was looking forward to it. Was it all just some big lie? You shook your head, still in denial. “You’re joking, right?”
“I’m sorry, y/n,” Peter mumbled, breaking away from you, walking off the dance floor. But you didn’t know what to do, instead just standing there, tears of your own forming in your eyes.
Were you fooling yourself? Were all of these feelings just one sided? Were you too stupid to see what was happening all along? You hated yourself for thinking someone like Peter could ever like you. You were just friends, and that was it. God, Ned and MJ probably thought you looked stupid too. Tears welled up in your eyes as you exited the gymnasium, pulling out your phone, sitting on the curb in your dress, hating yourself for messing everything up. Your phone rang several times before you sniffled, clearing your throat.
“Uh, hey dad?” you whimpered.
“Y/n?” Tony asked, concerned. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“Can you pick me up from the dance? I want to go home,” you told him, voice shaky, wiping tears from your cheeks.
“Sure thing, kiddo,” he reassured. “I’ll be there in ten. Hang tight.”
It was times like these when you blamed your dad for your high standard in boys. Being the daughter of Tony Stark came with some pretty high standards, and even higher ones for any boy you decided to bring home. So when the cute nerd in your chemistry class catches your eye, you’re determined to get him to like you back.
y/n (reader) x peter parker (love interest) x tony stark (dad) // fluff & angst
“How can he look at me and tell me I’m beautiful?” you asked yourself in the mirror. Your fingers shakily lifted up to your face, trailing the tips of your fingers across your flawed skin. In your mind, you made a list of every single imperfection. Blemished skin. Your crooked discolored teeth. The bundle of skin underneath your chin that always makes you lift your phone slightly higher than usual in photographs. When he looked at you, it was almost as if he was staring at the most beautiful painting in a gallery. It made no sense to you because what was in the mirror was nothing short of disgusting.
“You’re doing it again, aren’t you?” Peter asked from the doorway of the bathroom. Your hands dropped from your face, ashamed that he caught you berating yourself once more.
“Sorry,” you whispered, looking away from the creature in the mirror.
He sighed, knowing that you couldn’t help it. He did it too. It was only natural.
“I thought you were still asleep,” you admitted, reaching for your makeup to attempt to hide your blemishes. Before you could reach them, his arms wrapped around your waist and tugged you backwards into him. He hated it when you did this to yourself.
“I was cold,” he mumbled into your shoulder, “Will you come back to bed with me?”
“I was going to-”
“I know. You can do it later.”
You didn’t have the strength to tell him no. So when he grabbed onto your hand and pulled you away from the mirror, you retreated with him. He took you to the bed, sitting down on the edge and placing you onto his lap. It always made you self-conscious to sit on his lap, no matter how many times he told you that you fit perfectly against his body.
“Hey,” he whispered to you, taking your attention away from your insecurities with just the sound of his gentle tone. You felt his soft hand reach up and caress your cheek, directing your eyes to look into his, “You know I love you, right?”
“I know,” you smiled sadly, nuzzling your cheek into his warm palm, “I love you.”
“I love every last thing about you,” he said in a sterner tone, “I love the dimples in your thighs, the way the corner of your eyes crinkle when you smile, the sound of your laugh… those cute little snores that leave your lips when you’re asleep.”
“I snore?” you asked in semi-horror.
Peter laughed, “Just when you’re sick.”
“So that’s how you can tell,” you noted with a tiny laugh. Whenever you got sick, you would keep it to yourself. You didn’t want to worry Peter, he had enough on his plate without having to worry about you. However, he always knew and you never knew how. You’d wake up to see little gift bags by the bed with all your favorite snacks and drinks. On particularly bad days he would surprise you with brand new stuffed animals, he knew they were your favorite.
“Now you know my secret,” he chuckled as he pressed a sweet kiss to your temple. Your eyes close softly as he stays with his lips against your skin for just a secondmore, bringing bright blue butterflies to life inside your stomach. As Peter pulled away, he guided your chin between his thumb and index finger to face him, “It breaks my heart that you forget how much I love you sometimes.”
His thumb gently brushed against your bottom lip, a soft smile gracing his lips. You were speechless under his gaze. You were sure that the midnight sky would cry at how much it dulled in comparison to the speckles of light in Peter’s eyes as he looked at you.
“I know you love me,” you whispered, tears beginning to glisten in your eyes, “I just don’t understand how or why you do.”
Peter let out a heartbroken sigh, his lip quivering slightly at your confession. It tears him apart to hear the way you talk about yourself. In his eyes, the two of you were made for each other. He knew from the moment that he met you. He knew that there was no one else that could fit so perfectly beside him. It was you. It was always going to be you. “Because you are everything I’ve ever wanted and more. You’re my person,” Peter said with so much passion in his voice that every ounce of doubt you had shattered in the air. The tears broke from their cages, racing down your flushed cheeks. Peter’s hands moved to cup your face, wiping the flowing tears with his thumbs.
“You’re so cheesy,” you said, crying to calm yourself from the tears. He chuckled, just nodded to show that he agreed. You begrudgingly removed yourself from his hands, wiping your face free of tears, “I’m sorry I act like this.”
“You don’t have to be sorry,” Peter said with a joking eye roll as he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you back into him, “Can we kiss now?”
You laughed at his childishness before pressing a kiss to his lips, “I love you.”
peter parker x reader soulmate au ~ in progress ~ main masterlist
last updated:jan 30 2022 total word count:~46k (so far) warnings:language, fighting, blood and gun mentions, character deaths and death mentions, ptsd/anxiety summary: peter hates the idea of soulmates. but meeting your soulmate is inevitable, and it’s not always so easy to avoid what the universe wants to happen [series goes across several timelines - post homecoming, infinity war & endgame, far from home, and no way home]
Summary:When you and Peter begin working on an assignment for your Child Development class and Morgan overhears your discussions, she starts to think that you and Peter are actually expecting a baby, leading to a lot of confusion and a very pissed off Tony.
Word Count:3.8k
Warnings: mentions of sex, mentions of pregnancy and childbirth, swearing, typos
a/n: just something nice and fluffy before the last chapter of bty comes out and crushes everyone’s souls
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
“MJ is so pissed,” Peter laughed as the two of you walked hand in hand into the penthouse of the tower, “she said Flash has already made three misogynistic remarks and eight ‘that’s what she said’ jokes.”
“Oh god,” you chuckled, “she’s gonna kill him.”
Peter’s phone buzzed again, “nine jokes,” he updated with a smile, texting her back a frowny face.
“I’m just glad we got paired together,” you said as you set your backpack on the kitchen counter, “I mean imagine if you got paired with Flash… or worse, if I got paired with Flash.” You grimaced at the thought.
“Flash was ten times more likely to wind up dead if he got paired with you rather than MJ, so I’d say he’d be the one with the short end of the stick there,” Peter joked, setting his bag next to yours as you rooted through the fridge for some juice.
“You’re right,” you agreed with a smile, “besides, it would never come to that because you would do the gentlemanly thing and switch partners with me, right?”
You turned to Peter with apple juice in your hand. Peter wrapped his arms around you and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Aw babe,” he cooed, “no chance in hell.”
You pulled away with a laugh, setting the apple juice on the counter behind you, “You’re lucky you’re so cute, Parker,” you smiled.
Peter’s cheeks flushed pink as you looked up at him and batted your eyelashes. He smiled down at you, flicking his eyes between your gaze and your plush lips, just begging for a kiss.
“What?” you asked coyly, bringing your hand up to the back of his head and playing with the curls that grew there.
“Stop looking at me like that,” Peter muttered as he leaned into you and your temptress ways, “we need to work on our project soon.”
“Mhm,” you hummed, “and?”
“You’redistracting me,” Peter’s breath was minty on your face as he spoke, lips inching closer to yours.
“Am not,” you bit your lip.
Peter leaned in fully, closing the gap between the two of you, but just when his lips met yours—ding! The elevator door opened.
“Hands off my daughter, Underoos,” Tony said, not even looking up from his phone as he walked into the penthouse.
Peter immediately took a huge step away from you, quickly busying himself with getting glasses from the cabinet for the apple juice.
“Dad,” you groaned, walking over to your backpack to get your computer and homework out, “I thought you were in Spain.”
“It was Prague,” Tony corrected, “and I just got off the jet. Is this what you guys do whenever I leave?” He asked, looking up from his phone and pointing between you and Peter with a disgusted look on his face.
“N-No, of course not, Mr. Stark—” Peter began, turning towards his mentor, but you cut him off.
“Only if there’s no one else home,” you shrugged. Peter snapped his head towards you and widened his eyes, “What?” you held your hands up in defense, “There’s no point in lying.”
Tony pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long sigh, “I hate teenagers,” he groaned as he walked away towards the living room.
“That… went surprisingly better than I thought it would,” Peter noted as he set your glass of apple juice next to your notes.
“He’s tired,” you said, “we’ll probably get a stern talking to about protection and all that later. Or better yet, he’ll have Steve give us the lecture,” you grimaced at the thought.
“I can’t go through another one of those talks,” Peter groaned, taking a seat next to you at the counter, “May found the condoms I bought before I got a chance to put them away and every time she mentioned sex during the entire conversation she called it “fornicating”.”
You laughed and elbowed Peter’s arm, “I’ll do you one better,” you proposed, “Steve still refers to it as “fonduing”.” You wiggled your eyebrows at Peter as you said it, making him laugh along with you.
After your laughter died down you pulled up the assignment you were given on your computer, “Okay,” you began, “Mrs. Horn said that we’re getting the dolls on Monday so this weekend we have to have typed out a birth plan, daily schedule, and list of notable child physicians in the area that we could go to.”
“Okay,” Peter nodded, opening his laptop as well, “what do you want to start first?”
“Birth plan probably,” you began typing on a shared document with Peter, “she said it has to be at least one page and include alternate plans for worst-case scenarios. So we should do our regular birth plan and then we could do one like if something bad were to happen.”
You began typing out the plan of what you would want to do if you were really having a baby. Peter watched as you wrote out all of the plans, taking note of how quickly you seemed to figure this all out.
“This feels so weird,” Peter mumbled.
“What do you mean?” you asked, looking over at him.
“It feels kind of real,” he explained, “like, have you thought about this?”
“Not particularly,” you shrugged, “I mean, sometimes. I just think logically I will probably have kids, so it’s good to know ahead of time how I want them to come into the world and how I plan to raise them and all that jazz.”
“Yeah,” Peter nodded.
“Do you want to change anything on here?” you asked, “I mean, it’s your kid too.” you joked, nudging Peter slightly.
“N-No,” Peter shook his head, “it all looks really good,” he smiled, mesmerized by the thought of having children with you and starting a family one day.
Of course, it was way too early to even think of that, let alone make plans for it, but knowing that you also thought about these scenarios made Peter’s heart soar.
He’d always felt—at least in some small part of him—like your feelings for each other were one-sided. Or maybe not one-sided completely, but at least he thought that he loved you more or cared about your relationship more than you did. But this project you’d been given was easing those worries little by little. It might not have meant nearly as much to you, but to Peter, it meant the world to know that you thought of the future like this. Possibly a future with him.
“Oh, and names,” you said, looking up from your laptop to Peter, “one boy name and one girl name since Mrs. Horn is randomly assigning the babies to each pair so we won’t know if we get a boy or a girl until Monday.”
“That’s dumb,” Peter said, “don’t people usually know beforehand? So they can know what clothes to buy and stuff.”
“Yeah, but I guess some people like surprises like that,” you shrugged, “I would want to know as soon as possible.”
“Mhm,” Peter agreed.
“Okay, so names,” you started typing out a section for that on the document, “any ideas?”
“Hm,” Peter thought about it for a moment, “how about Hans, like from Star Wars.”
“Wow,” you nodded, “even for our fake kid I hate it.”
Peter shook his head, “Well what do you want to name it?”
“I don’t know,” you shrugged, “even though this is all fake and stuff, it’s good practice. That’s why we took the class—”
“We also both needed another elective credit,” Peter mumbled.
“So I don’t just want to pick some random names and be done with it,” you explained.
“Well,” Peter began, “if I had a girl, I’d want to name her May because May has always been such a big part of my life. I’d want to honor her by doing that.”
“Okay,” you nodded with a smile, “I really like that. Want to add a middle name?”
“You can pick.”
“I like Louise,” you typed it out, “she’s my favorite character in Bob’s Burgers,” you smiled.
“Perfect,” Peter agreed, “and for a boy?”
“Anthony?” you asked, “After my dad, and then Ben for a middle name, after your uncle,” you typed it out as you spoke before looking up at Peter, “what d’you think?”
“I-I really like that,” Peter nodded, a small smile dancing on his lips.
“Okay,” you closed your laptop, “that’s enough for one day. We can look for child physicians tomorrow.”
Ding! As you and Peter finished up your work in the kitchen, Morgan was just coming up to the penthouse, just now returning from school herself.
“Hey little miss,” you smiled when you saw her, but you frowned when you saw the small pout on her face, “what’s wrong?”
“‘M not any good at kindergarten,” Morgan pouted, “I messed up reading during read-aloud time.”
“That’s okay, Morg,” you tried to reassure her, “one mistake doesn’t mean that you’re not good at something. Peter makes mistakes all the time, but he’s still a really good Avenger,” you said, patting your boyfriend on the shoulder.
“Yeah, I always make mistakes,” Peter nodded, “but it helps because then I learn from them and fix them, and then I do better. (Y/N) makes mistake too—”
“Don’t lie to her, babe,” you cooed, pinching Peter’s cheek.
“It’s not the same,” Morgan walked over to you and climb into the barstool next to yours, “everyone laughed at me.”
“Wealways laugh at Peter,” you told her, “remember when he ran into the window?”
A smile crept its way onto Morgan’s face, “Yeah,” she nodded.
“And that’s how Peter learned that we have the windows cleaned every Thursday,” you explained with a smile, “and it was funny.”
“Not for me,” Peter whined from beside you, “I broke my nose.”
Morgan giggled as you began to tickle her, “And he broke his nose,” you laughed, “that’s way worse than messing up read aloud.”
“Yeah,” Morgan agreed, laughing along with you.
“I don’t like how you’ve chosen to console her,” Peter mumbled.
“Aw,” you cooed, placing your hand over Peter’s, “it’s okay, baby. It was just a mistake, right Morg?”
“Mhm,” Morgan nodded.
“And it’s not a big deal or worth being upset over, right?” you nudged Peter.
“Right,” he smiled, placing a kiss on your forehead.
“Okay,” you looked down at your sister, “now run along, Peter and I still have some homework to finish. Dad just got home so he’s probably in the living room watching TV.”
“Okay,” Morgan hopped down from the counter and ran off down the hall.
“You’re really good with kids,” Peter said as he looked at you with admiration.
“So are you,” you smiled at him, “I’m glad I can shit on you to make her feel better,” you joked. Peter laughed and wrapped his arm around you, “I hope I can count on you to let me do that when it’s our kids.”
“Anything for you,” Peter said, pressing a kiss to your lips.
You hummed against his lips, before pulling away, “Don’t try to seduce me when my family is in the other room.”
“Hey,” Peter complained, “if anything, it’s you that does the seducing.”
“I’m about to go to my room to finish my homework,” you pulled away from him, “do you really want that to be the last thing you said before we move to my room?”
Peter quickly shook his head, “No, definitely not. I love you, you’re perfect, you can do no wrong.”
“Aw,” you smiled, “you’re too sweet.”
You began to gather your things as did Peter so you could both head to your room.
“Are you excited to take care of a baby for a week?” Peter asked as you began walking down the hall.
“Kind of,” you shrugged, “I mean, I think it’s honestly gonna be one of the most hand-on assignments ever, which I’m not exactly thrilled about because of our busy schedules. Like, when we really have a baby, it would be when we’re ready and can make time for it. Ideally, at least.”
Peter’s heart skipped a beat when you said “we”, as in, you and him, having children together. His heart was already so full when he looked at you, he couldn’t imagine the love and joy he’d feel when looking at you round with his baby or holding his children in your arms. This project was truly putting many things into perspective for him and forcing him to think about his future.
“Yeah,” Peter agreed, “not to mention the crying. It’s gonna be so loud and nonstop.”
“I didn’t pay attention at all when we went over the different cries in class,” you admitted, “so we might have to try everything to get the doll to shut up.” you joked.
“You mean to get our very loved baby to soothe,” Peter corrected, “doesn’t this thing also record us?”
“No,” you shook your head, “I don’t think that’s allowed. If so, Mrs. Horn is gonna be in for a real treat. More like Mrs. Horny—”
“Please stop.”
“Also,” you said, “I haven’t told anyone about this project yet, so nobody’s gonna be prepared for this next week of hell.”
“Well, better get to it,” Peter said, “gotta tell your dad he’s gonna be a grandpa,” he joked.
“Yeah and Morgan that she’ll be a little auntie.”
Little did you and Peter know, you were both passing Morgan’s room, whose door was open a crack. The little girl was playing with her dolls when she heard the two of you pass by. “Gotta tell your dad he’s gonna be a grandpa” “Yeah and Morgan that she’ll be a little auntie.”
Morgan set her dolls down and raced to the door to hear more of the conversation, but you and Peter were already down the hall and in your room.
Her little lip began to wobble at the thought of you and Peter having a baby right now. She didn’t really understand what that meant, but she knew that it meant everything would change and that wasn’t something she was prepared for. She stood in the doorway of her room for a moment before she did what any six-year-old would do when they were about to cry; she ran to her dad.
“Daddy! Daddy!” Morgan cried as she ran into the living room, where Tony was half asleep on the couch with Pepper by his side, who had just gotten home from work. Sam, Bucky, and Natasha were also there, just in the other room discussing details for a mission they were going to go on. One that they planned to invite you and Peter to join.
“Huh?” Tony woke with a start as Morgan jumped into his arms, tears streaming down her face.
“What’s wrong, honey?” Pepper looked worriedly as Morgan buried her face into her dad’s shirt. She ran her hand up and down the little girl’s back soothingly.
“What’s the commotion?” Sam asked, walking into the room with Natasha and Bucky, “Who hurt our favorite fun-sized Stark?”
“Morg,” Tony tried to calm her down, “what happened? Are you hurt?”
Morgan shook her head quickly, “No,” she cried, “I’m just sad. I don’t want everything to change.”
“What do you mean, sweetie?” Natasha questioned softly.
“(Y/N) a-and Petey are go-gonna have a b-baby,” Morgan sobbed as she spoke, hardly getting the words out, “and t-then everything with change because y-you’ll all be too busy with the new baby!”
Pepper looked up at Tony who looked at Pepper with the same expression of complete confusion.
“Honey,” Pepper cooed, “(Y/N) and Peter are not having a baby. Why would you think that?”
“They said they are!” Morgan yelled defensively, growing more upset now that everyone was looking at her like she was crazy.
Sam looked over and Bucky and Natasha who just shrugged.
“Maybe they said that in the future they might want to have kids,” Natasha said, “but that doesn’t mean that they’re gonna have a baby now.” she tried to explain.
“No,” Morgan shook her head, “they’re having a baby now,” she was very adamant about it.
“Why do you think that, Morg?” Tony asked.
“Because (Y/N) said that she would have to tell me that I’m gonna be an auntie. I don’t want to be an auntie! I want to be the baby.” Morgan began to cry harder, “A-And Peter said that they were g-gonna tell you that y-you’ll be a grandpa! I don’t want you to be a grandpa, I want you to be my daddy still!”
Tony thought about it as Morgan cried in his arms. You and Peter were insanely touchy with each other. He knew for a fact that you and he have already fondued, and he also never had the safe sex talk with either of you yet—part of him hoping that you two weren’t stupid enough to not be safe. But the more Morgan cried in his arms, the more he thought about all the times he caught Peter coming out of your room at two in the morning, all the times Peter had set off the security alarms by sneaking into the tower at one in the morning, all the pieces of dirty laundry that belonged to Peter that also got mixed in with yours, and worst of all—all of the times you texted him letting him know that you were going to stay the night at Peter’s.
“Oh my God,” Tony wrapped his arms around Morgan tighter to make her feel comforted, “she’s right. I think (Y/N) might be pregnant.” he looked over at Pepper who was shaking her head at him.
“Tony,” she chided, “don’t feed into this. Morgan is just having a rough day, and you’re exhausted. This isn’t a good topic for discussion right now. If (Y/N) really was pregnant she’d tell us.”
“Maybe she just hasn’t yet,” Tony defended, “I mean, seriously, do you know how many times I’ve caught them doing it.”
“Hundreds,” Bucky nodded in understanding.
“Don’t even get me started on the fact that Peter talks in his sleep,” Sam began to laugh as he mocked him, “oh (Y/N), right there. Oh, so good baby. Feels so go—”
Natasha quickly cut him off with a slap.
“Oh my God,” Tony groaned, leaning his head to rest on the back of the couch, “this can’t be happening. Please tell me (Y/N) didn’t let this happen—”
“Tony stop,” Pepper scolded him, “you’re being ridiculous.”
“Pep,” Tony nodded down to Morgan who was still crying softly in his arms, “Morgan’s not a liar. I’m sure she heard correctly, and those two teenagers,” he pointed a thumb down the hall to where your room was, “they’re like rabbits. All day and night.”
Natasha grimaced, “Okay, I think this is getting a little out of hand,” she said, “let’s just ask them. Calmly.” she added, seeing the way Tony was already on his feet, ready to let you and Peter have it.
“Yeah, yeah,” Tony waved her off, already heading towards your bedroom.
“Did you put that you didn’t want an epidural?” Peter questioned as he read over the document, “doesn’t that like, hurt though?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, “but I’m tough. I mean, I literally got shot in the shoulder last month and still had to haul your ass to safety.”
“Still,” Peter shurgged, “I don’t see why you wouldn’t want to get the epidural.”
“I don’t want to be all drugged up when I meet my baby,” you explained, “like sometimes people are so dopey from the epidural that they don’t even remember the first moments with their child. I just want to feel it all and remember it all, even if it hurts.”
Tony could hear the last part of your conversation as he stood outside your door, now fully believing what Morgan had been saying.
“(Y/N),” he opened the door to your room, seeing you on your bed with your TV remote in your hand as you flipped through movies on Netflix. Peter was at your desk, typing things down on a document Tony could clearly see titled “Parker-Stark Birth Plan”.
“Yeah?” you didn’t even look away from the TV.
“Oh my God,” Tony’s face dropped, “so it’s true.”
“Huh?” Peter looked up from his laptop.
“What’s true?” you asked, now looking over at Tony.
“Morgan was right, you are pregnant,” Tony had this strange expression on his face. It was a mix of shock, disappointment, and anger all at once, “how could you let this happen?” He looked between you and Peter, “You both are the most irresponsible teenagers I have ever met. How can you possibly consider bringing a child into this world together? Did you rub your two remaining brain cells together to come to this conclusion? Did you even think or consider all of your options? How far along are you?”
“What?” Peter looked over at you, “You’re pregnant?”
“No!” you shook your head, “I’m not! Why would you think that?” you looked at your dad.
“Don’t lie to me,” Tony warned, “I can see the guilt all over your faces.”
“That’s Cheeto dust, and it’s only on Peter’s face,” you joked.
“(Y/N), not the time,” Peter said, closing his laptop and wiping his face off with his sleeve.
“You two are ridiculous. You can’t even be serious about this,” Tony threw his hands up in the air, “I can’t believe how irresponsible you two have proven yourselves to be. I put a lot of trust in you guys to be mature and strong leaders and then you go and do something like this—”
“I’mnotpregnant!”
“Then why the hell are you making a birth plan and planning to tell me I’m gonna be a grandpa?!”
You and Peter both looked at each other and a moment before bursting out laughing. You were clutching your stomach and slapping your hand onto the bed as you laughed while Peter held his fist over his mouth to muffle his laughter.
“Would someone please explain to me what the hell is going on?”
“It’s for a school project,” you laughed out, “Peter and I are taking care of a robot baby next week and we have to do some paperwork before we get the baby.”
“We wanted to tell you beforehand because it’s a really annoying baby,” Peter explained, “it’s gonna cry a lot.”
“And the birth plan has to reflect our own ideas on what we would want to do, so that’s why we’ve been discussing it.”
Peter opened up his laptop to show Tony the document. After Tony skimmed it, he switched taps to the dropbox where it would be turned in, “It’s for our Child Development class. It’s the final project before the exam.”
“I’m not actually pregnant, dad,” you giggled, still trying to catch your breath from laughing so much, “we’re not thatdumb.”
“Yeah, Mr. Stark,” Peter nodded, “I have a strong pull ou—”, you quickly threw a pillow at your boyfriend’s face, cutting him off from saying anything else.
warnings: angst, general owie moments, mention of penis.
heyo!! i am not sure why i keep writing breakups for peter i need to give this kid a break fr but anyways here u go :D my masterlist can be found hereand my requests are open :)
“Peter Parker, MIT!” There was an outburst of applause as Peter hopped up the steps and accepted his diploma.
You’d already received yours, and with tears in your eyes, joyful ones for now, you clapped and hollered for Peter. You were so proud of him for getting into MIT, and it was evident with the way you were totally ruining your makeup.
After receiving his diploma he jogged over to where you were sitting, giving his apologies to the people he was pushing past, and planted a kiss on your cheek.
“We made it, love.” He whispered, wrapping an arm around your waist as the two of you, the picture perfect image of high school sweethearts, cheered for the rest of your classmates.
Once the ceremony was over, you, Peter, Ned, and MJ took photos, exchanging gifts you’d gotten each other.
“Guys- I’m gonna cry. You didn’t.” MJ fake sobbed as she pulled out her group gift, which was a gift card to the coffee shop she worked at.
Peter received a set of house keys (his own, he’d lost them and MJf ound them), Ned received a pair of socks, (Is this because of that one time I had a hole in my sock?”) and you received a notebook, and when you’d opened it there was just a quite detailed penis drawn on every page. (“I’m quite artistically talented.” explained MJ.)
After you’d waved goodbye to MJ and Ned, with promises of hanging out over the summer, you and peter headed home, hand in hand.
Your thumb was drawing circles on his palm, something he noticed you’d only done when you were nervous.
He tried to brush it off as the nerves of being a new high school graduate, but when he’d gone to unlock his front door, and you let go of his hand, he knew something was wrong.
“Pete wait.” You spoke, tucking the congrats grad bear he’d given to you in private under your arm and switching your handbag to the other hand.
“What’s wrong? You okay?” He turned around, leaving the key in the doorknob. You looked sad, almost, standing in the flickering lights of his apartment hallway, though you were ethereal to him nonetheless.
“I just- God why is this so hard- You’re going to MIT. And I’m so so proud of you.” Your voice cracked, and Peter felt his heart drop. “But, I’m not. I, fuck. I’m going to California Peter. Do you know how far away that is?” You laughed dryly, sniffling and looking over Peter’s shoulder. “Do you know how far Massachusetts is from California? It’s 3,000 miles, Pete. We, we can’t make that work.”
“Yes we can, I promise we can. Just, please. We have the summer and we can call and we can- I can get Mr. Stark to fly me over there every weekend and we can make it work. We can do it, please don’t, we can, we can.” He repeated, begging you, as you stood there with tears, this time sad ones, running down your cheek.
“Pete..” You said softly. “We can’t.”
“Mr. Stark-“
“Tony can’t do everything for you. You’re a college student now, I bet your internship is ending. An MIT student! The love of my life is going to MIT! You truly don’t know how happy you’ve made me. But we just can’t. Long distance doesn’t work Peter. I’d rather break our hearts now, then in the future, when we can’t get over it.” You untucked the bear from your arm, fiddling with its arms. “It just won’t work.” You finished.
Peter knew you were right. Long distance just did not work. Especially for people who were heading into two separate life paths. Long distance didn’t work if you didn’t know Peter was Spider-Man and had infinite access (well, to an extent,) of Tony’s resources.
“I- right. I’m- you’re right. I- Can I just kiss you one last time?” He put his bag down between his feet and held his arms out, but instead you placed the bear in his hands and shook your head.
“It’ll make things harder, Pete.”
“You’re right. Well,” He cleared his throat, trying to stop himself from breaking down right there. “Goodbye, I guess.”
“Goodbye, Peter. I love you.” You wiped your tears, waving goodbye and walking down the hall, and he could see your shoulders shaking from how you were sobbing.
“I love you too.” He waved behind you, watching you go, and he broke down in Aunt May’s arms when she opened the door.
hi! i’m lovebug and this is my first peter fic on tumblr. my requests and asks are open, hope you enjoy reading <33
“Hey Pete, uh, can you call me back when you get this? I just wanna know you’re okay.” You paced around your room, throwing your phone down on the bed when you were sent to voicemail, again.
Peter said he’d stop by over an hour ago. He wasn’t answering his phone and you were getting nervous.
You picked up your phone, finger hovering over the call button. Peter had given you Stark’s head of security’s number just in case. For emergencies only.
And Peter not answering his phone and not showing up when he need to was an emergency.
The phone rang once, twice, three times before it clicked and a voice said, “Hello, Happy Hogan speaking. Who’s this?”
“Hey, uh, this is Peter’s Partner. Parker. Uh, Peter Parker’s partner. I was wondering if you, maybe, uh if you maybe knew where he was?” You cracked a small grin at the use of the three p’s, and the phone went silent, you couldn’t hear the background static. They were muted while you were standing here worried sick out of your fucking mind.
“God you’re just like him.” You assumed he was talking about the rambling and as much as Peter sometimes annoyed you, you’d do anything to hear him rambling about some science bullshit right now. “Uh the kid left awhile ago. maybe like two or three hours. Sorry.”
Your heart dropped. “Are you sure? He- he said- he told me he’d left like- an hour and a half ago and he was on his way from Stark Tower are you sure?”
“I’m positive kiddo. If you’ll excuse me I have something to do. Try calling his cell maybe?”
“I-I will. Thanks.”
“No problem. Stay safe.” The phone clicked and you were left sitting on your bed worried out of your mind.
You called Peter again, your nails rising to your mouth as you bit them off, one with each ring.
“Hi! This is Peter’s voicemail! Sorry i couldn’t-“ You hung up again, slamming your phone on the bed with frustration.
“God Peter where the fuck are you-“ Your phone rang and you scrambled to flip it around, Peter’s contact information lighting up the screen.
“Hello?” Your boyfriend’s voice was like music to your ears, and you felt all your worries drain off of you. He sounded- out of breath? Maybe? And there was a lot of wind but god he was alive.
“God Parker-“ you sniffled, wiping back the tears. “Where the fuck have you been?”
“I’m sorry!” He yelped, there was an indiscernible noise and you heard him swear under his breath. “I got caught up at the lab I’m on my way right now I swear.”
“Bullshit Parker! I called Happy Hogan, the guy’s number you gave me because I was worried sick. And he said you left three fucking hours ago. Where have you been?” You barked into the phone and Peter’s apologies stopped and so did the wind.
“You called Happy?” He was oddly serious. “What did he tell you?”
“He told me you left the tower three hours ago Peter. Why are you so worried? What are you keeping from me?” You cried, and Peter felt his heart break a little. You didn’t know but he was at the top of a building right now talking to you, and if all went the way he wanted to, you’d never know.
“Okay i’ll be there soon.” And he hung up.
You wiped the tears from your eyes, your leg bouncing and you tried to listen to music to attempt to calm yourself down.
Peter arrived at your door a couple moments later, winded and out of breath and you stood at the door to your apartment, holding it open but not letting him in.
“Hi darling- I-“ He leaned in for a kiss and you pulled back, and you saw the hurt bloom across his face.
“Don’t hi darling me, Parker. Where the fuck have you been?”
“I told you I was at the tower, I don’t know why Happy told you i wasn’tt-“ He was breathing heavily and his shoes were tapping, and it ticked you off that he was nervous.
“Why are you nervous then?” Your voice was smooth and calm and Peter knew he was fucked. But for your safety, he couldn’t tell you where he was.
“I’m not!” His voice cracked and you laughed dryly.
“You pick up the phone when you’re at the tower, and you didn’t this time.” You looked at him square in the eyes.
“I don’t- I don’t know what you want from me!“ He threw his hands in the air.
You both stood in silence, before you spoke.
“Peter I-“ You started, and he cut you off almost immediately.
“Don’t- don’t do this. Not right now, not ever, please. I’m sorry I missed a couple dates-“
“A couple? You’ve missed 5 Peter. You’ve missed 5 and you’ve missed countless hangouts. You’re hiding things from me, and you’re acting like I don’t even exist.” Your frame shrunk away from the door and Peter scrambled to pull you as close as he could, but you braced your hands on his shoulder and pushed him off, with no resistance from him.
He knew he’d lost.
“If you- if you can’t be honest with me, then maybe we shouldn’t be together Peter.” You whispered and you swore you saw a part of Peter break.
“I- please. I’m sorry. Just give me another chance, I’m sorry, I love you. I do, please-“ He was begging at your door, tears pooling in both of your eyes.
“Peter please just leave. You’re humiliating yourself.” You spoke softly, because you feared if you spoke any louder you’d start crying and you didn’t want Peter to see that you’d miss him.
Peter stopped begging, his breathing still erratic and his chest rising and heaving. He wasn’t going to put you in danger. He’d rather not have you than have you in danger.
“Okay.” he sniffled. “Okay. Okay, I’m going. I’m sorry.” He spoke and tried to make his voice leveled but it was obvious he couldn’t.
And so Peter walked away from the door, and you closed it, locking it, and as soon as you were sure he was gone you climbed into bed without another word and cried.
Peter climbed into his own window, the tears just streaming down his face and he didn’t even wipe them as he changed and laid down, cursing himself and his desire to keep you safe.
Happy was right. The man once told him you couldn’t be a hero and be in love. it was one or the other.
And Peter had wrongly chosen.
—
hello!! friendly reminder that my requests are still open!! i would love to write any ideas i’m given <33
♡⊰ hi! im lovebug! (u can call me any variation of that, love, bug, buggy etc.) i’m eighteen and i’m a taurus. pretty irrelevant but i felt it needed to be mentioned. there is a heavy amount of cursing on my blog, i have the mouth of a sailor so apologies in advance <3
▬ my requests and asks are currently open, and my dms are alwaysopen. ▬
summary: you get kicked out of your house and have nowhere to go. you want to tough it out on your own but your boyfriend won’t let you.
word count: 2k
warnings: mentions of abuse, alcohol, swearing
a/n: i’m back!!! wrote this instead of studying for my spanish midterm oops. hope that you all enjoy and make sure you send requests!
「 ₊˚.༄ 」
You were good at hiding your emotions.
This wasn’t something that you were appreciative of, you were ashamed. You wish that you could express how you genuinely feel without being terrified that someone would take advantage of your vulnerability.
But that’s just how life works when you grow up in a toxic household, with a mother that isn’t the friendliest.
“Y/N?” Peter spoke, causing you to return from your trance.
“If you aren’t going to take this seriously then you can just leave.” He puffed, flipping back and forth between pages, searching for an answer.
“I-I’m sorry.” You mumbled.
The two of you were currently studying for your midterms in Peter’s room. He was sitting at his desk, books sprawled everywhere while you sat on the carpeted floor, back pressed up against the wall.
“I can’t find the answer to question 32, did you?” He asked.
“No, I didn’t. I’m sorry.” You replied, weakly.
Peter huffed as he flipped the pages aggressively.
“What is it?”
“It’s just-” He hesitated, “I don’t understand why you come over here every day and just sit there and do nothing.”
You felt a pinch in your heart as he let out his frustrations, “I’m sorry.”
“And stop apologizing!” Peter struck his fist down on his desk, causing you to recoil.
He noticed how you inched away from him, “I shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re right,” You took a deep breath, “I’ve been in my head a lot lately and I haven’t been the girlfriend that you need right now.”
“Not to mention I’ve been a terrible study buddy.” You laughed, Peter smirked.
“That doesn’t excuse the fact that I scared you.” He was disappointed in himself. For a split second, he forgot about how sensitive you are.
“How about we take a little break? We can go out and get something to eat and maybe watch an episode of The Office?” You suggested as you stood up.
“I’m in work mode right now,” Peter watched your face for any signs of disappointment.
You nodded, glancing at the clock, noticing the time, “I should get moving before my parents notice that I’ve been gone this long.”
You bent down and began to place all the science and math textbooks into your bookbag.
“You should spend the night. May won’t mind, she loves having you over.”
“No, it’s fine.” You reassured but, Peter didn’t look satisfied.
“Hey, hey,” Grabbing his arms, you wrapped them around your waist, placing your head on his shoulder, “It’s okay, I promise.”
You stood in each other’s embrace for a few moments, finding harmony in each other’s presence.
Peter’s mind is always going 100 miles per hour, especially right now with the stress of midterms and having to make time to patrol the city. The both of you were dealing with stress and being able to have a few seconds of tranquility made all the difference.
“I’ve gotta go.” He released you from his clutch.
“Text me when you get home?”
“Of course.”
“I love you.” He beamed.
“I love you.”
–
Sneaking into your house is way harder than sneaking out. Having to avoid not only your parents but your loud dog that gets super excited when she sees you.
Throwing your bag on your bed, you climbed through your window, careful not to slip on any of the toys scattered on the floor.
Everything had been calculated so that your mother and father would eat dinner while your dog begged at their feet, so you come out of your room and claim that you had been taking a nap.
But not everything goes according to plan. Your parents never let the dog out of your room so, she was lying in your bed instead of on her own. She felt your bag hit the bed and shot up, beginning to bark.
“No, no, no!”
It was pointless trying to get her to stop because you could hear the harsh footsteps on the way to your room.
Your mom stood in the doorway, arms crossed as she leaned against the frame. The tension increased by a tenfold. Your confident stature depleted with every second that passed.
“You know, if I’m going to pay for this room, I expect it’s going to be used, right?”
“Yes,” You’d learned that she’ll make it easier if you agree and don’t antagonize her.
“So, when you’re not in here, it tells me you aren’t using it.” She spoke, malice laced within her voice, “Do you want to live here?”
“Yes.” You responded.
Your mother nodded her head, “If you sneak out again, I’ll see that you don’t have a room to come home to.” She sent you a passive-aggressive smile and slammed your door.
You let out a sigh of relief, even though she just threatened to kick you out if you snuck out to see Peter again. The exchange had gone better than most nights, presumably because it was too early for her to drink.
Flopping on your bed next to your dog, you let her give you a couple of kisses before pulling your phone out of your back pocket and sending Peter a message.
You: Hey! I’ve made it home.
Peter: Great. Still studying :(
You: Keep pushing!! I’ll make sure that I help next time
Peter: Any problems?
You: Nope :)
Peter: Good.
Peter: Wanna retry this study date tomorrow at 6:30?
You: Yep, see you then <3
“Shit.” You huffed.
–
You were asking to get thrown out. Here it was, 6:00 pm, and you were crawling out of your window as if your mother didn’t threaten you with eviction less than 24 hours ago.
As you strolled toward the Parker’s apartment, you thought of how your foolproof plan could go wrong. Would your dog bark again, or would your mom be waiting in your room as soon as you arrived?
“Hey,” Turning your head, you saw none other than Peter Parker send you his alluring smile.
“W-What are you doing out here?” You questioned, eyebrows contorted in confusion.
Pulling his hands from behind his back, he displayed 3 bags of food, “I was picking up our dinner for tonight.”
“Dinner?”
“I thought we could scrap the whole studying idea and have dinner with May.” He revealed.
You tried your best to control your facial expressions and body language, not wanting to give Peter any signal that this would raise a problem.
“Sounds good.” You nodded.
“I’m so glad that we’re able to do this before I patrol. It puts me in a good mood before I go-”
“Kick some ass?” You interjected.
“Somethin’ like that.”
The rest of the walk to Peter’s apartment was filled with stories of the peculiar things that he would see while patrolling the city at night. Weird things that people tried to steal and the extravagant costumes people wore.
“A nightgown?” You asked as you entered his apartment.
“A nightgown,” Peter confirmed as he took your jacket, hanging it on the rack mere feet away from the entrance.
“Hey, Y/N!” May greeted, waving at you from the kitchen.
“Hey, May! So nice to see you again.” She emerged from the kitchen and gave you a small hug before turning her attention towards her nephew.
He handed her a receipt, and the placed the bags on the dining table, “Let’s eat.”
“So, Y/N, how’s school going? Someone has been studying like crazy.”
“School is going well. I think people are stressed with midterms, but I can’t wait until things get back to normal.” You explained, putting food onto your plate.
The conversation flowed nicely. It was easy to talk to Peter’s aunt because she was so understanding and non-judgmental, she had become more of a mother towards you than your actual parent.
“I guess it’s true that time passes faster when you’re having fun,” Peter spoke.
You looked at the clock, it was almost 9:45. It was at least a 30-minute walk back to your house
“Oh my. I’m sorry to rush out like this but, I have to get home before-” You paused, not wanting to say anything that would worry Peter or May, “This was fun we’ve gotta do this again.”
“Soon.” May smiled, watching as you grabbed your coat, frantically.
“I love you, Peter. I’ll text you when I get home.” With that, you exited the Parker’s apartment and rushed out of the building.
There was no way that your absence went unnoticed by your mother, now that she’s on high alert of you sneaking out. You had completely forgotten about checking the time. There was something about the Parker’s that made your problems seem so minuscule to the point where you didn’t even think about them.
With every step you took, the pit in your stomach increased in size. Whatever destiny you had waiting for you at home, you didn’t want it. You wished that you could turn around and go back to Peter’s apartment and exchange funny stories with him and his aunt.
But you can’t outrun fate.
When you reached your window, you were faced with 3 black trash bags and a note, “I warned you.”
“Fuck,” You sobbed, “She fucking kicked me out.”
You always knew that your relationship with your mother wasn’t the best but, you loved her and you assumed that she loved you too. You didn’t even want to imagine what feelings she harbored towards you if she could throw you out with ease.
You opened the bags and saw your clothes, materials for school, and a few miscellaneous things. There was no way that you could carry all of this stuff, it was way too heavy and you didn’t own a car.
“Y/N, what’s going on?” You heard someone say from the roof.
The first thing you noticed was the colors red and black and knew exactly who it was, “What are you doing here?”
“Y-You rushed out of my house like we had a disease or something, I knew something was wrong.” He explained.
You couldn’t see under his mask but it didn’t take a genius to know that he was confused, “What’s all this?”
“Pete, I think I’m in trouble.” You croaked, your eyes were red and blurry from crying.
He came down from the roof and instantly embraced you in a hug. You let a sob escape your throat as he held you, “Why didn’t you just call me? We could’ve figured something out.”
You sighed, “I’m not your responsibility. Plus, you have all of this stress on you and-”
“Did you think that I’d turn you away or something?” He questioned, taking off the mask covering his face so that he could look you in the eyes.
“Look at me,” Peter gently took your face in his hands, “I know that you grew up thinking that you are a burden but you’re not.”
“Do you remember when I was distant from everyone for months after Uncle Ben?”
You nodded.
“You were the person that restored me to normal. No one asked you to but you did, remember that?”
“Yeah,” You sighed, resting your face in his palm.
“We’ll figure this out together.” Peter reassured, caressing the back of your head as he pulled you into yet another hug.
