Just a collection of a few fics that I really really like. None of them are mine obviously. Most of them are reader inserts unless marked otherwise. Mostly female reader inserts.
When stated 18+ DO NOT PROCEED AS A MINOR
☆ fluff, ◇ angst/sad, * smut, ♡ personal favourite (even tho most of them are my favs)
(unfinished and unedited, if a link doesn’t work tell me in the comments)
You were the little ‘protégée’ of Stark’s racing team.
Not that Tony really cared, he had other things on his plate. His racing team was just an additional money maker mixed with more press for the Stark Industries.
His father was the one who had cared for it the most. So he seemed to keep it just for Howard Stark’s memory, and his own nostalgia of seeing races with his father as a child.
“Oh and how’s that Formula 1 team going?” Tony took a new sip of his drink before going back to tweaking one of his projects.
Happy blinked in surprise. Tony checked on the team about once a year, or maybe twice at most. He only wanted to be up to date when he went to Monaco for the yearly race.
“Well…” Happy scratched the back of his neck as he fumbled with his iPad for the data. The screen lit his face with the bright red Formula 1 logo and the page opened. He cleared his throat, Tony wouldn’t like this - “Second on the driver’s constructor championship, and our drivers are 2nd and 4th.” he winced, bracing himself for Tony’s remarks.
Tony looked away from his project and looked at Happy in surprise.
“Happy can you tell me why’s that?” He folded his arms. “We have the best car on track, then why aren’t we winners?” Tony hated loosing, even if it was in a sports he didn’t particularly care about.
“Our star pilot signed with Mercedes last year, remember?”
“Hmm.” He looked around the room. “Tell the team manager - what ever his name is, that I want two new pilots for next year, and they better be the best. Or else I’ll get him fired and hire that Toto Wolff guy who works for Mercedes.”
And that’s how you got your chance.
You were the best rookie driver to ever step into formula one in years, and people weren’t shy to talk about it. You had managed to beat everyone’s expectations in your first season as an F1 driver, and that’s what Stark racing searched for on Tony’s orders.
Although the team manager was skeptical at first, something in the back of his mind telling him he was gambling on taking not only a girl in his team, but also someone with barely any formula 1 experience under their belt. But when he heard Toto Wolff wanted you for Mercedes, he was quick to make you a contract.
And it turned out to be the best decision he ever made in his entire career.
“Alright Happy.” Tony sighed as his friend walked into the room. “Since I’m going to Monaco it’s only normal I know what’s going on.” He stated as he tried to pick between two suits. “How’s that F1 team of mine?”
“First in the driver’s constructor, and one of your drivers; Y/n L/n is leading the championship by 40 points. I’m going to be honest this is quite impressive, Tony. No driver has lead the champion ship by so many points so young and in such little amount of time in the sports.”
“Hmm good, good.” He was too busy scratching his chin to care “Do you think the blue or black suit is better?”
“I’ll pick the blue. Makes your eyes pop and matches the color of your racing team.
You on the other hand, you were unstoppable on track. You were not only the youngest but only female pilote on the grid, which would make you a double record holder if you got the tittle of world champion this year.
You started your karting career when you were 6, travelling through the USA and slowly making your way up. Through middle school you stayed in Queens, and went to Mid-town high as you tried to get into F3. School was taking a toll on you, and your driving results seemed to go down as well. It wasn’t a good two years if you were honest.
But your entire life changed when you visited Oroscop with your class.
You got bit by a spider.
A radioactive spider to be exact.
You remember going back home after the trip feeling like the sky was about to crash on you. Your head was spinning and your eyes couldn’t see properly. You wanted to throw up, scream - anything to get the pain away.
That day you had to cancel a karting practice, and the chief of your karting team was threatening to take away your seat - not a fun twenty four hours.
Little did he know you would come back to become ‘the best pilote who ever lived’
You weren’t blind to the friendly neighborhood Spider-man. He was exactly like you, could climb walls, probably had hyper senses and super strength as well. It would be a lie to say it didn’t make you guilty. You were using your powers for your own career, while he was out saving the world.
But you couldn’t dwell on those feelings for too long.
You had a World Champion ship to win.
~
Ah, Monaco.
The best race of the year.
Not only for the parties but for the amazing track.
As usual you got into your car and soaked in the comforting feeling.
With your spider powers you could feel every single part of the car, everything that was wrong or right. You could feel how perfect that car was. How well the air circulated around it as it glided through the track. Everything was right with this car, and it filled you with a feeling of gratitude.
You could feel the entire track, where everyone was or how fast they were going. It was so easy to drive. So easy that last year even with the shitty car you had before joining Stark Racing you found ways to do podiums.
You took everything in.
Monaco was your favorite track. Just because it was the most challenging for you. The sharp turns and tight streets. You knew this track like the back of your hand, and loved every single bit of it.
That day you were a beast on track as usual. Staying first during most of the race, your rival finding it a real challenge to fight you.
"Is she like this every race?” Tony leaned to his team manager.
“Yeah.” He nodded with a proud smile.
Tony nodded as he kept his eyes on the TV to watch you race. After you pitted to change your tires, a bad strategy from your engineers almost made you collide with another teams car.
It should have ended in an accident.
Itshouldhave.
But Tony and the entire team stayed breathless when they watched you turning around and double the car in front of you. There wasn’t even room for a finger when you passed by. Any other driver would have collided and caused a crash by the pit lane.
But you didn’t.
And you even won the race after that.
“Interesting.” you had suddenly caught Tony’s attention and he nodded, watching you get out your car. A small smile appeared on his trait when he watched how much his team cheered for you.
He kept a close eye on you as you removed your helmet to replace it with the 1st place cap. You proudly walked up to the podium, your entire team cheering and screaming at your achievement once again. You hugged your teammate who had also gotten a podium, and one of your friends from another team who was third.
Bottles of champagne later and someone tapped you by the shoulder.
“Boss wants to see you.” The person had an intimidating look in their eyes.
“Boss?” you raised an eyebrow with a playful smile. “I just talked to the boss-” you pointed to your team manager who was shaking some champagne off of him.
“Other boss.” He pointed to bright blue name on your racing overalls, and you felt your heart stop.
“Oh.” You gulped. You knew more then anyone Tony Stark wasn’t one to follow Formula 1, nor who wanted to talk to his drivers. So him wanting to see you wasn’t something you were expecting. “Can I get changed first?” You pointed to yourself. You were disgusting and sticky with a mix of champagne and sweat.
He shook his head and your breath caught in your throat “He wants to see you, now.”
“Alright.” You nodded, and followed the assistant all the way to Hospitality, fumbling with your hands in the process.
You tried to fix your hair, trying to wring out the champagne out your locks, but it didn’t seem to help. You fixed your overalls, and furiously rubbed your hands onto your side as they started becoming stickier by the second.
“Great.” You muttered.
The doors of a large room opened and you were met with the faces of a few millionaires and important personalities. You gulped - you were sticky and recking of champagne and you knew in the back of your mind that if you weren’t a formula 1 driver they would look at you as if you didn’t belong.
You followed the assistant all the way across the room, giving the usual small smile and wave at people who greeted you. You removed your cap as a sign of politeness and used it to fidget with.
And suddenly - you were face to face with him.
The one and only Tony Stark.
The one and only Iron Man.
He gave you a bright smile as though you were old friends, lifting his arms up as if to embrace you.
“Ah Y/n!” He smiled and glanced towards a few guests as though the two of you were close. He wrapped an arm around you, making a face when he realised you were sticky.
“Well i’ll just throw that suit away.” He grinned before giving your shoulder a squeeze and letting you go.
“It’s nice to meet you- Mr.Stark.” You awkwardly nodded, suddenly feeling extremely shy around him, compared to a few seconds ago when you had just shaken hands with the royal Monégasque family.
“Oh call me Tony.” He grabbed two champagne flutes from a waiter and handed one to you. “Here” instead of waiting until you grabbed it, he ‘accidentally’ let the glass fall.
With your stupid quick reflexes, you caught it before any drops could be spilled.
“Nice reflexes L/n”
“I have to for my um job sir, um Tony” You awkwardly fiddled with the cap in your hands.
“Oh I’m sure there’s more to it!” He said as it was no big deal, a large smile still plastered on his face as though he hadn’t just revealed your biggest secret.
Your face went white, and you froze - not sure of what to say next.
“Sorry?”
“Would you come to the tower this week? I believe your next race isn’t until the week after. Leaves you time to travel to New York.” You blinked in surprise. Shocked he was so fast to change the subject.
“Yeah- Yeah of course.”
“Ill get a jet for you, and we can talk about your accomplishments over lunch.”
~
So that’s how you found yourself standing in front of the Avengers tower, looking up to the meters of height as a shiver passed through your shoulders.
“Y/n, right?” The man you regonised as Happy stepped out of the building, and you nodded. “Follow me.”
What you didn’t expect was an overwhelming feeling. It was hard to describe. As if someone was pushing you towards a force so strong you felt like a small magnet trying to get away from the bigger one.
You tried your best to shake the feeling off, but the more you walked into the tower, and the more the elevator went up - the more you felt yourself being pulled.
It wasn’t until the doors of the elevator opened to the large dining room / living room that you understood why.
Standing next to Tony Stark was a boy that way too familiar to you.
And suddenly you understood.
It was Peter Parker.
Peter Parker was Spider-man.
The quiet nerd from your bio class was Spider-man.
Was that why you felt so attracted to him? Was that why you felt like you could trust him with everything in you? Was that why you wanted to just walk to him and have a conversation.
Almost like you were two pieces of a puzzle meant to work together.
“Y/n!” Tony greeted but you couldn’t stop looking at Peter. “How’s my favorite F1 driver! It’s nice to see you again.”
“I- I’m good. Thank you.”
“This is Peter. He was around so I thought it would be nice to have someone around your age. What are you two - 12? 14?”
“19” You both said at the same time, making Tony roll his eyes.
Suddenly the two of you made eye contact again, and Peter was looking at you like he was trying to figure out a murder mystery.
Tony looked between the two of you and almost felt the sparks in the air, he was about to clear his throat but Peter spoke first.
“Y- you’re like me?” He breathed out.
“You’re Spider-man aren’t you?” He nodded.
“H- How is this even possible? I-” You watched him as the wheels in his brain turned around. “That- were- You were there! I remember you! You too?”
Tony didn’t understand one bit of Peter’s blabbering but you did.
“I got bitten when we did that field trip in Oroscop.”
“Me- me too! I remember you! You left because your driving was getting serious!”
“Wait you two know each other?”
“We use to be in class together.” You nodded. “Until I left to join F3 in Europe.” Tony raised both his eyebrows at your words.
“Oh well I didn’t have to kick it out of you then. I knew you probably had powers but I didn’t know you were a spider person like Pete.” He chuckled before sitting down for diner.
“You knew- what!?”
“Something you should know is that I have an eye for these type of things. Plus I got a call from Nick Fury about you. He’s been watching you for a few years now. The papers about you are in my office.”
You stayed frozen - the only thing you could do was blink. That made Tony laugh.
“Don’t worry. I’m keeping you on the team. Your little secret is safe with me.” He nodded. “But if one day you want to play the hero you’ll also be welcomed. We could use a very good get away driver. Now will you two stop staring at each other and sit down, I’m hungry.”
The rest of the diner went surprisingly well.
“You don’t know who Niki Lauda is!? Are you serious?” You almost choked on your food at Peter’s lack of knowledge. “You don’t know James Hunt either?”
“No-” He shook his head.
“Kid! Even I know these famous names!”
“You can’t be serious.” you frowned. “you never heard of Niki Lauda? Formula 1 legend? Looks a little bit like Zemo? His rival was James Hunt - people even say he looked like Thor’s twin! Both of these guys are legends.”
“Oh yeah I saw the posts about him looking like Thor.” Tony smiled at the thought.
“You have a lot to learn, Parker.” you shook your head.
“Honestly teach me! I didn’t know the name of any drivers until tonight when Tony said you were coming over.”
“Not even Schumacher.”
“Oh yeah, never mind. I knew that name.”
Diner went to fast for your liking. Tony was incredibly nice and less intimidating than you thought. But most importantly you and Peter seemed to have an unspoken bond that even Tony could sense.
You felt safe around him, that feeling you felt the first time you walked into the tower only becoming stronger.
“Well that was amazing, thank you so much Tony.” You nodded as you slipped your coat back on.
“Thanks kid. It was nice getting to know you.” Tony clapped your shoulder. “I think I’ll be coming to more races.”
“That would be fun.” You nodded and turned to Peter. “It was nice seeing you again Peter, it’s a shame we didn’t talk as much back when we were at school.”
“Yeah.” Peter chuckled. “It was nice seeing you again.” Your stares lingered and Tony wasn’t blind to it.
“Peter why don’t you bring her back to her hotel? I’ll let you two share and compare your spider being experiences.”
“Oh I’d love too. Only if you’re ok with it, I mean.” Peter turned to you.
“That would be nice, Peter.”
Good thing your hotel was a little far.
You hadn’t noticed but the two of you had started to walk almost shoulder to shoulder.
“So you’re telling me you got stuck in your own webs once?” You bit back a laugh.
“Yeah.”
“It’s brilliant that you made them. I would have never thought about that.”
“I mean - you have no need for it.”
“True.”
“I never thought our powers could be used for what you’re doing. It’s impressive you know.”
“Not as impressive as you, Peter. I’ve always felt self conscious about the fact that you’re a hero and I’m just- an F1 driver.”
“Just an F1 driver? Y/n everyone says you’re the best driver in history.” He shook his head. “I checked you out on google during diner. All these articles are wondering where drivers like you were all these years.” His enthusiasm was making you smile.
“But I don’t save people in my free time. I race and race and race and race some more when I could use my powers for good.”
“You’re doing a great service to motor sports.”
“I guess.”
Your heart dropped to your stomach when you saw the door of your hotel.
“That’s my stop.”
“Oh.” He looked up to the sky scraper with the bright logo of your hotel onto of the door. “Alright… Well um-”
“Would you like to come to my next race? I’ll get you tickets.” That took him by surprise. “Tony can bring you with one his jets I suppose, and we could go to London after, it’s only an hour away from Silverstone - that’s the circuit where the race will be. There’s this restaurant I really like- we could go there.” When he didn’t reply you continued rambling. “But I mean- of course if not that- that’s ok-” You were shut up with a kiss to your cheek.
Pairings/Characters: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader (Andrew Garfield’s Peter)
Warnings: Swearing, graphic depictions of violence, end fluff
A/N: COMMENTS/REBLOGS APPRECIATED/ENCOURAGED: Because, honestly, I don’t know if anyone likes it otherwise so I can continue or not.
Summary: A prequel to my Hard Enough one-shot, and the second installation of my Crumble!Verse work: The first time you meet Peter Parker, he saw your hot temper and couldn’t help himself.
This is definitely post-college, adult Spider-Man
Something was wrong. Peter could feel it. The air was thick, his throat was dry, and he was certain that the ground beneath his feet may have shook just a tiny bit, but maybe that was his spidey senses toying with him. Perhaps something was happening with the woman he spotted across the hall.
Peter was currently in the MET, taking photos for a high-class, black-tie event that he was afforded, somehow, a press pass to get into so he could catch some of Earth’s mightiest heroes let their hair down. He still wasn’t entirely sure how he was standing here. He wasn’t taking pictures nearly as much as he used to since he was finally working in an actual lab that produced actual results and he made actual money for it. But because he had such a hot streak catching pictures of Spider-Man (and still does, when it’s the holiday season and he wants to treat himself), J. Jonah Jameson reached out to him with a quest.
“Peter!” You called. Peter stopped as you caught up with him. “Before you go. I wanted to give you this!”
“It’s a cactus.” He said as you handed him a small fragile cactus.
“Yeah! Isn’t it cute! Don’t touch it though it’s cute but so spiky.” You said with a wince that convinced Peter you’d touched it at least once. “Make sure you look after it ok! I grew this one for you.”
summary: nat reveals a secret to the public when your class takes a learning journey to the tower.
requested: yes
warnings: might come off as half assed writing because this probably is one of my worst works i’m so sorry
word count: 1681
notes: i’m so sorry i haven’t been writing much, i’ve recently just gotten extremely busy so i had no time to sit down and write (this one was literally written between all the short breaks i had ) and i have a few requests piling up so i hope you guys can understand if they come later <3
“hi, y/n!” ally, an agent, greeted you as you, along with your classmates, walked through the east wing hallway of the tower. your classmates—except for peter, ned and mj— turned to look at you with confused looks.
your class was having a learning journey at the avengers tower and you had contemplated on calling in sick to avoid people who worked in the tower acknowledging you around your classmates.
you were actually an avenger—yeah, crazy—, having been rescued during one of the many avengers’ hostage rescue missions few years ago. you were able to single-handedly take down a few of your captors, hence why the team took interest in you then.
now, though you had been trained enough, they decided to keep you a secret in order to protect you. lord knows how many people would try hurt you if they ever found out the avengers had a new, teenage recruit. peter was technically still safe as his alter-ego is masked so you had no choice but to only go on missions that weren’t in the public eye.
you also lived in the tower so the agents and staff were undoubtedly familiar with you, some even friends with you, just like ally, who had just passed by with a wave of her hand at you before turning the corner.
“did that lady just acknowledge you?” an annoying voice spoke from beside you in a mocking tone. you gulped, not wanting to respond to flash’s irrelevant question.
“hey, loser, i’m talking to you,” he nudged your arm with his elbow and you held the urge to grab it and flip his whole body upside down. it’s not like you couldn't—you had the skills, obviously— but it’s the fact that you didn’t want to get in trouble for that.
you ended up keeping quiet, like you always did whenever the boy taunted you. peter taught you to do just that. if it were up to you, flash’s stupid face wouldn’t even dare to show itself in front of you anymore.
speaking of peter, he was nowhere to be seen by now. you internally rolled your eyes. it had only been two minutes and they were already gone. peter was probably showing them around the place. you had no idea how your teacher didn’t notice the three of them missing from your group. you were so going to kill them for ditching you and leaving you alone when they knew they were your only friends. they were also the reason why flash still had his head to this day because they’d stop you from doing anything rash. now you weren’t sure if flash would be safe from your fury.
“you probably work here as a cleaner on the weekends or something, huh? that’s the only way people here would know you,” flash jeered. you let out a breath, trying to control your anger towards the boy.
you rolled your eyes, opting to deliberately ignore his insults and walk away instead, hoping you’ll bump into those three idiots of friends of yours.
“did you just ignore me?” flash asked incredulously, as if it was a crime to ignore his annoying ass. he pulled you back by your back collar, effectively halting you in your spot.
by instinct, you grabbed his hand that was on your collar, twisting it and turning his whole body around, pinning him against the wall with his twisted arm pressed against his back. it happened in just two seconds which totally caught flash off guard, the boy groaning in pain as he begged you to let him free.
you could hear a series of gasps from all around you and you internally groaned. this is why you always ignored flash’s taunting. you didn’t want to attract attention to yourself and have people wonder how you could defend yourself so well. but flash just had to provoke you. especially here, out of all places.
“what’s going on here?” you heard a familiar voice ask and you sighed.
“oh my gosh! it’s the black widow!”
“miss romanoff!”
“oh my gosh, i’m gonna need to get a picture for my mum later, she’s gonna freak out!”
you stepped away from flash, releasing him as he dramatically kept rubbing at his arm. as if you even put that much pressure. flash smirked, seeing this as a chance to complain about you to an official avenger.
“thisgirl right here,” flash points an accusing finger at you with a glare, like he wasn’t just practically begging for his life twenty seconds ago. “attacked me.”
you rolled your eyes, unamused. “i hardly attacked him.” you told nat. the woman turned to you, an eyebrow raised as she gave you a knowing look. “this…?” she trailed off and you nodded, knowing what she was insinuating. you’d told her about flash one too many times for her not to immediately figure out who he is from a crowd of students.
“flash thompson. heard a lot about you,” she turned to the boy. flash’s face lit up, thinking he must’ve made a name for himself or something that even the black widow knew him. little did he know he did, but not for good reasons.
“i would prefer if you stop messing with y/n/n.” nat gave him a sharp look and that grin was immediately wiped off his face. “i– y/n/n?” he stuttered, confused that the natasha romanoff is calling you by a nickname.
“you do know she can kick your ass if she wanted to, right? she’s been silent all this while because she didn’t want to hurt you but you just never seem to learn, huh?” nat took slow, calculated steps towards him until she was towering over him.
“she doesn’t need anyone to protect her because she’s fully capable of that but i’m just here to warn you, kid, that she, is not to be meddled with. i’m saying this for your own good, flash thompson. she’s capable of much worse than whatever she just did to you. so if i hear you messing around with her or any of her friends,” she pauses before continuing with a whisper. “i’ll close one eye on whatever she wants to do with you.”
you wished you could’ve taken a picture of the dead scared look on flash’s face; it was priceless. you turned to nat once she stepped away from him and she put an arm around your shoulder, leading you both away from the watching crowd.
“i–i’m sorry, miss romanoff,” you could hear one of your teachers say and nat stopped, effectively stopping you too as she had you in her hold. “but miss y/l/n is on a learning journey with us and she’ll miss the tour of the tower if she leaves with you. we’ll be discussing a lot regarding this trip in class and she won’t understand what we talk about if she misses this tour. i hope you understand.” he spoke nervously.
“with all due respect, y/n’s seen the whole tower already,” she smiles at him but you could tell it was fake. “even the avengers’ residential floors which are closed to the public and most employees of the tower.”
your teacher looked at her wide-eyed, mouth open but nothing coming out. nat smiles a fake one once again. “now if you’ll excuse us, the both of us have avenger duties to attend to.”
gasps could be heard all around you and in the midst of it all, your best friends came back and you made eye contact with them, all of them having the same shocked look on their face.
“avenger duties?! nat, what are you doing?!” you whisper-yelled at the woman who seemed to be enjoying the reactions of your classmates and teachers.
“y/n!” peter ran over to you, your other friends following suit. “oh, um hi miss romanoff,” he greets shyly. “thanks a lot, guys, look what happened.” you spoke sarcastically, rolling your eyes at them. nat proceeded to drag you away from your friends and the last thing you saw was them mouthing apologies and you half-heartedly mouthing to them back that it was fine.
“relax, y/n/n, the public were about to find out soon anyways.” nat said nonchalantly. “what?!” you exclaimed once you two were in a different hallway.
“yeah, you’re gonna have press this weekend for this. we’re gonna officially announce you to the world as an avenger.” she once again says nonchalantly, as if this wasn’t the first time you were hearing this. “wait, wait, wait, seriously?” you asked in disbelief. no one had told you anything.
“yeah, i—ohh yeah, you don’t know yet,” nat remembers and you give her an unimpressed look. she wasn’t usually this dumb; she only showed this side of her to you. “sorry, i uh, yeah.. i was supposed to come get you for this. meeting with fury and the rest, yknow?” she tells you and you nodded slowly, taking in the information.
“but tell me it didn’t feel good that you got to do that to flash,” the woman states excitedly and you playfully rolled your eyes at her. “you got to do something. i’m practically an empty threat to him,” you stated matter-of-factly.
“not after this weekend you’re not. he’ll be afraid of you after. that’s what you get for being a smelly bully.” you couldn’t help the little smile on your face. she really sounded like a child right now and it was adorable.
“alright, natty, whatever you say. let’s go before fury releases his fury.” you look at her hopefully, waiting for her to laugh at your joke which she responded with an unimpressed look. that of course didn’t work as you two burst out laughing looking at each other’s faces.
you walked alongside her, the woman resting an arm around your shoulder. you smiled up at her as she talked about her day.
god, you couldn’t wait to be able to finally walk out in public with these people you considered family.
warnings: suggestive themes, toxic peter, manipulation, obsesssive and possessive behavior, hints of infantilization
summary: Ever since the accident that nearly sent you into a coffin, Peter has spent every moment with you out of fear of history repeating itself. Unfortunately, you love him too much to try and say anything about it.
author’s note: this is a part of my 1K followers present week. I hope you enjoy a slightly unhinged spidey boy.
On the night that Peter saw you falling forty stories from the ground, the crack in his behavior shattered into many pieces like a fallen mirror. To think if he did not arrive a second earlier, your neck would have snapped along with your shattering bones. The thought alone of your skin becoming entirely cold and red blood pouring over the gray cement—and it not being his intentional doing—made him vomit into his bathroom sink whenever he thought about it too hard.
Just the proposal of death almost being able to rap at your door was the reason you were under Peter’s warm body in his bed many weeks after the incident. It started slowly, like a boil. He suggested you stay over at his apartment to mentally recover from the situation, but one night turned into a day, which turned into a week. Now you were completely cooked and hadn’t been to your dorm room in months.
Before you even agreed to date him, Peter had his moments. It was as if one screw was never secured correctly whenever he would interact with you. He was always so physically demanding, even when he was only your friend. He would play with your hands and braid random strands of your hair. And when you started dating, he told you how many freckles that graced your pores as a joke.
“Married?” You squeaked as your eyes grazed over the words on the card a hundred times without retaining any of the information. As you momentarily forgot how to even read, you had to rely on the words coming out of Andy’s mouth.
“Yes, uh, married.” He awkwardly cleared his throat. “Dani and I are getting married over the summer.”
peter parker + letter H from the fanfic alphabet for anonymous
pairing:peter parker x reader
theme:hurt/comfort
warnings:minor feelings of neglect
fandom:marvel
Peter Parker was a busy guy. Not only was he juggling school and helping his aunt out but he also had a side job that only a few people knew about. That side job being that he was the local web slinger that all of New York knew about, Spider-Man.
Because of how much time Peter had to dedicate to being a superhero, not only was he overworking himself but he was neglecting you. When you first started feeling lonely you didn’t bring it up, feeling guilty for demanding Peter’s time when he was busy saving others. However as of late it was becoming unbearable.
Recently you finally broke down. You and Peter were sitting on one of New York’s many rooftops. Peter offhandedly mentioned how it’s been a while since the two of you got to hang out like this and that’s when it slipped out. “Yeah, I missed you. I thought you forgot about me for a second”.
Blinking in surprise, Peter asked what you meant by that last part. Immediately you wanted to hit yourself for your loose lips. Hesitating, you weren’t sure whether or not you should vent or not but the longer Peter stares at you, the more you feel like you need to speak your mind.
“It’s not that I just miss you because you’re always Spider-Man” you confess, fiddling with the strings of the hoodie that you borrowed from Peter. “I also worry that you’re putting too much pressure on yourself. Heroes deserve breaks too, you know?”.
This must have been the first time Peter realized that you were feeling this way. He thought that his efforts were only exhausting himself but now it was clear that he was not only hurting himself but you too.
You can tell that there’s guilt rising in Peter’s chest. Before you can take back what you said Peter’s shifting toward you to give you a hug. “You’re right,” Peter sighs. “I should take some time off. Would you spend it with me?”.
A soft smile forms on your lips at that. “Of course I will”.
(I marked the smutwith *** if you’d like to skip that)
Andrews!Peter= Peter Toms!Peter = Parker Tobeys!Peter = Pete
Word Count = 3200
You woke up groggily, blinking slowly as you glanced around them room noticing it was still dark. You reached blindly to the side of you flinging your arm around in attempt to find your phone. You found it and switched it on, flinching and blinking as the harsh light burnt your eyes. After a few moments your eyes adjusted, the blaring 12:57am glaring at you. You sighed in irritation, getting out of bed, and stumbling to the bathroom in your room.
After opening the door, you trudged back to your bed before you heard a soft thump from outside your door. You stopped, waiting for a moment before you heard another noise. It sounded like it was coming from your kitchen. You walked to your bedroom door and softly poked your head out look down the hall.
You heard a noise again and you moved back into your room and grabbed your Spiderman baseball bat, a birthday gift from Ned, one you now appreciated very much. You moved as silently as you could creeping towards the kitchen. Your tired brain, making temporarily forget your two other house guests, your brain immediately associating the noise with an intruder. You stopped by the corner separating the hall from the kitchen and gripped the bat tightly in your hands. You took a breath in and turned the corner raising the bat and swung hard at the sound.
Warnings:fluff, some angst, swear words, some steamy stuff
Nothing to interesting yet just some set up for the next chapter. Things start to get steamy, next chapter. I’m very exited for the spice!
Andrews!Peter= Peter Toms!Peter= Parker Tobeys!Peter = Pete
You were sat in your bed, staring at your door with an intensity, petrified that at any second the door would open, or someone would knock, and you’d have to deal with the inevitable.
After your Peter left, you were left alone with the two other Peters. Your head, still absolutely reeling in shock from the new information, as well as the fact that there were now two handsome boys or Peters in front of you. You said nothing, and simply walked past them awkwardly, walking to your room with haste. Slamming the door shut behind you and falling onto your bed.
That had been three hours ago. The sun had set, and you were started to get hungry as dinner time came, yet you were still glued to your bed. Staring at the door as you had been for hours, unaware of what exactly you should do. You had texted your Peter at least 30 times, but he had simply replied with a ‘I’ll be back late tonight, after 10’ a text that had done nothing to calm your nerves.
You sighed dramatically, falling back into your pillows, and checking your phone. A bright picture of you and Peter hugging in the snow greeted you, along with a blaring 7:47pm. “Ughh!” you groaned. Slowly you sat up and walked to your dresser tossing of your shirt and pants with the intent to change into something more comfortable and talk to the other Peters, before a knock startled you and you turned to see the door opening slowly opening, to shocked to shout out.
There’s a silent squeaking of shoes against the polished floor which is already difficult to avoid on a normal day let alone one where New York’s been plagued with heavy rain. While it’s annoying to the ears, the group votes to ignore the sound in favor of making quick work of their robbery.
Four men wheel off barrels filled with chemicals down to their truck which is parked on the lowest level. At least four of their buddies’ act as lookouts, although, the group has already tied up three security guards who have since been forced to sit in the corner of the parking garage, their mouths gagged with duct tape.
The leader of the group is a tall gruff man with a belt of bottles attached to his hip. He must be feeling pretty confident with their work because he’s been sitting at one of the lab tables for about eleven minutes now, playfully mixing different chemicals and metals while his colleagues do all the heavy lifting. It almost makes Spiderman smirk under his mask, watching the show from his perch in the corner of the ceiling.
“I wouldn’t mix those two chemicals if I were you,” the men jump when Spiderman finally speaks after noticing the leader pick up two bottles, one with a clear liquid inside and other with chuckles of silver metal,“ that’s dilute sulfuric acid and sodium metal. One’s a reducing agent oxidized to sodium ion while the other’s an oxidizing agent that reduces hydrogen ions to hydrogen gas. Mix them together and the sodium will melt to the surface with an explosion to follow which, honestly, isn’t going to feel too good if you’re within range-ACK!”
He doesn’t get to finish his knowledgeable chemistry explanation before being forced to jump off the ceiling when the four men draw their guns, firing rapidly at the hero who effortlessly dodges their attempts.
“Not fans of chemistry I take it? Then what’s with all the chemicals you’re stealing? Helping your kids with a science fair project?” Rolling upon his landing, he swiftly webs two of the men’s hands and guns to the wall then shots a web directly in the face of another. While the man fruitless attempts to pull the sticky substance off, he’s suddenly roundhouse kicked into the counter which causes several beakers to crash on the floor. The last man lunges forward, swinging a fist at the back of the hero’s head, only for said fist to be caught midair. Within seconds, the man is flipped onto his back and webbed to the ground by his arms.
With the four goons taken care of, Spiderman finds himself facing the leader alone,“ come on man, you should really put those bottles down. You’re not even wearing goggles and that’s, like, the one rule science teachers care about.”
“Gladly,” the leader growls, throwing the bottle of acid towards Spiderman who jumps onto the ceiling light, quickly leaping to a further end of the room when the bottle of sodium metal is thrown soon afterwards. There’s only about three seconds in between the sound of breaking glass and a loud ‘pop’ that sends sparks of acid across the room, some of which hits one of the criminals who had been lying next to the counter.
The leader shows no concern over his subordinate’s screams of agony, merely flashing a toothy grin when stepping forward and selecting two bottles from his belt,“ you’re not the only one who knows your chemicals, Spidy-boy.”
He tosses the bottles towards the hero, resulting in sparks flying. Spiderman uses the hanging lights to swing himself around the room, dodging each explosion which will no doubt leave burn marks and fire damage all over the once polished floors. The biggest explosion occurs when the man grabs three bottles of a dark metal, a clear liquid, and a white powder. When he throws them under his target, they ignite, creating an awfully loud 'bang’ that shakes the walls and shatters the lab’s main window.
“Okay, first of all, it’s Spiderman,and secondly, throwing chemicals around like a toddler doesn’t mean you 'know chemicals’, only that you don’t know proper lab safety. Let’s review the basics, shall we?” He lodges himself at the leader, landing a punch to his face. Wobbling backwards from the force, the man drops a few bottles, some of the clear liquid splashing against his legs in the process,“ avoid skin and eye contact with all chemicals.”
He shouts in pain, but is cut off when Spiderman grabs the fire extinguisher kept on the side of the lab table, spraying the white foam to cover the man’s vision quicker than he can react,“ always know the location of fire extinguishers-”
Finally, using a web as support on the ceiling, Spiderman swings and kicks the man’s chest, sending him flying back into a small glass room mere few away. With another web, he makes sure to glue the dazed criminal in place before very casually walking over to pull the hanging handle which causes water to begin pouring from the sprout above, drenching the man,“-and the laboratory showers.”
“You fuc-” The man goes to growl but is shut up with a web to the mouth.
“No cursing either,” Spiderman smirks, leaning on his elbow against the wall beside the shower station,“ that’s not actually a lab rule, just a personal one. Can’t be a friendly neighborhood Spiderman while having a sailor’s mouth, y’know?”
He looks away, listening to the sound of growing sirens rather than the leader’s muffled shouts. Waltzing over to the broken window, Spiderman gazes down to see the street’s already lighting with blue and red, an army of police officers rushing in through the front doors.
“Well gentlemen, I’d love to stick around and continue educating you on proper lab safety, but I’m already late for dinner. Maybe we’ll get a chance to pick up where we left off once you’re, y’know, out of jail for burglary and destruction of property charges,” sending a halfhearted salute towards the group of criminals, Spiderman takes his leave through the window, swinging off with a proud yet tired smile hidden under his mask.
Eight hours; that’s how long he’d been patrolling the streets before noticing the shine of flashlights inside Oscorp. Eight hours on top of a nearly six-hour school day is exhausting even with superhuman endurance, but luckily for Peter, tomorrow is Saturday meaning he can actually sleep in for as long as he wants for once. In such a tired state, he could easily get lost in daydreams about a microwaved dinner and his soft bed, but the ideas are dismissed when an all too familiar feeling pierces through his senses.
The world seems to slow around him, his anxiety beating against his chest while his eyes dart around wildly to the tops of the buildings surrounding him. He can hear droplets of rain hitting concrete, splashing into even smaller particles which add to the thin layers of water covering New York. There’s also the sound of voices below, most people cursing the weather while some run after taxis in which stir up calm rain puddles and break the gentle atmosphere with their annoyed honking. Then he hears the whirling of metal-
-Suddenly maneuvering his body to the right, he uses a web to pull himself downward off course and away from the blade that shines with his reflect like a mirror mere centimeters above his head. Shooting another web, he makes a sharp turn at the corner, looking back in terror at his attacker who hangs off the side of a building, watching him through silver goggles, however, he doesn’t get much more time to take in their appearance. In seconds, a wire is sent flying past him, hooking onto another building which allows them to lunge forward at a blurring speed, their blade already pulled back and ready to swing.
Peter moves to dodge their next attack, but can do nothing when they predict his counter, somehow switching the direction of their swing faster than even his Spider sense can keep up. He hisses in pain from the feeling of metal being dragged across his stomach, cutting deeper than any other weapon has before. They look ready to swing again when he shots a web behind himself, heading backwards then around a few more buildings in a poor attempt of losing the attacker.
With one hand clenching the wound, Peter doesn’t dare look down at the damage, knowing by the way his face feels stuck in a scrunched-up expression of pain that it’s bad. His mind races with other thoughts, having never seen this person before nor has he heard of any villain who uses a type of grappling hook system somewhat similar to his webs-
-He feels his heart skip another beat when remembering the conversation he had overheard earlier this week between the newspaper club kids, more important, what he had heard Josh say. The Night Ripper, an infamous assassin armed with a blade made of vibranium…Could this be them?
Looking back, Peter sees no one on his trail and, for a moment, he feels relieved to think he might’ve succeeded in losing them, however, he should’ve been smarter than to trust such a notion.
Right as he comes around the next building, he spots the blur returning in the corner of his eyes, but this time, he puts his bloody hand up, desperately shooting a web into their face which throws them off guard. Despite jerking their head back in surprise, they still swing their sword blindly, cutting the web Spiderman hangs onto which sends him tumbling down towards the street while they land upon the nearest rooftop.
With irritation, the Ripper attempts to tug off the sticky webbing from their goggles to no avail. Upon realizing the substance can’t be removed so easily, they push the goggles onto their forehead, revealing their narrowed (e/c) that hold a poisonous anger in them.
Meanwhile, Spiderman uses a single web to swing himself towards an ally, crashing against the ground, although, such pain’s nothing compared to the burning of his stomach which is becoming too much to handle.
Clenching his side, he looks down at his torn suit at last, his head feeling dizzy at the sight of blood oozing from the gaping wound across his midsection. Sure, he’s gained plenty of wounds that have require stitches before, but nothing like this. It hurts…
With teary eyes and a shaky hand, Peter lifts his mask up to breathe easier before slowly pushing himself to sit upright. He lets out a cry at the feeling of his gloved hand rubbing against the raw injury which is deeper than he originally considered. It hurts so damn bad…
There’s a quiet 'thud’ that meets his ears, making his heart leap. Ever so slowly, he raises his head to the top of the buildings surrounding the ally. His breath catches in his throat at the sight of the Night Ripper who stands in all their glory in the shine of moonlight, staring down at him with a drawn blade.
Peter’s lip quivers from both the pain and fear he feels when meets those dull (e/c) eyes that stare down at him harshly. He’s afraid to move under that look, his jaw clenching and body tensing in preparation to fight for his life in a way he’s never done before. Is this what all the Night Ripper’s victims felt like before their deaths? But Peter can’t die here! He doesn’t want to die!
Then, for some strange reason beyond Peter’s own belief or understanding, those (e/c) eyes that once held a storm of fury soften. Within a blink of his own eyes, theirs become human, showing an emotion he can’t quite put his finger on even if he tired.
As if that isn’t strange enough, in complete contrast to his expectations, the Ripper doesn’t leap down from their post to finish their job. Instead, they hesitate to take a step back, remaining still for a second longer before suddenly jumping down the other way with the sound of their grapples hitting the air soon afterwards. Where most people would be crying with relief at such a point, Peter is left frozen with confusion, his mind continuing to race maybe even more than it had before.
The Night Ripper is a perfect assassin…A one solider army who can and will eliminate anyone they’re told to without sparing a soul…so why did they just spare Spiderman?
The alarm refuses to understand how annoying it is, continuing to make Peter’s ears bleed until he finally throws in the towel first with a groan, his fist slamming down over the device with more pressure than it can take. The plastic shatters, sending tiny wires and pieces of chip across the bedstand which only draws another groan from the teen.
He’d continue to lie there curled in his cocoon of blankets all morning if not for that math exam he has during second period and Aunt May’s current calls from the other room,“ Peter, what are you doing?! You’re going to be late!”
Seeing that he no longer has a good o’ digital clock, he blindly slaps his hand across the bedstand before rolling onto his back with his cracked phone now in hand. From there, he tiredly blinks open his eyes just enough to see the glowing numbers on the screen, checking to see just how long he’s laid there after destroying his actual alarm clock.
“SHIT!” The covers of his bed are thrown into the air, drifting back down to the bed that’s he’s already leapt out of. Rushing around his mess of a room, he begins a desperate scavenger hunt for all the items that he requires for school. Textbooks, pencils, backpack, Spiderman mask, camera…He puts his hand on the doorknob before throwing his head back and spinning his heel. Shirt and pants! Can’t forget a shirt and pants; no one wants to see his boxers in first period Spanish!
“PETER!”
“I’M COMIN’, AUNT MAY!” He stumbles around, using one hand to help guild on his pants while the other stuffs school supplies in his bag. Using a web, he grabs the first shirt he sees on the floor, giving it a single sniff to decide if it’s clean enough for the day. A little smelly, but it’ll fine.
Once running into the kitchen, he hastily sends an apology to May while selecting an apple from the fruit basket. She, of course, takes instant notice to his bedhead and the wrinkles in his clothing,“ did you just wake up? Peter, how late did you stay awake? I wear I heard you up at midnight!”
Peter stiffens at her questions which confirms that he had, as previously worried, been a little too loud crawling through the window last night. It’s not his fault he tripped over his skateboard in his tired state…okay, so maybe itis his fault for not cleaning his room, but he would’ve gotten home earlier if not for that gang of bank robbers leading him on a high-speed chase through Manhattan! …Not that May ever needs to know he was hanging off the back of an armored truck yesterday.
“Sorry if I woke you up, May. I, um…I was studying late for my math exam. Yeah, I’m super nervous for it so I should get to school right now before I’m late. I love you, see you later!” Not allowing her any more time to question or scold him further, he throws out each word at a speed she can barely understand while pressing a kiss to her cheek for good measure.
After that, he’s out the door, sprinting to school without any intention of slowing his stride thanks to his increased stamina. He effortlessly dodges each pedestrian that moves in front of his path, weaving through the crowded sidewalks of Queens while reviewing possible exam questions in his head and occasionally taking bites out of the apple he’d be heartbroken to drop.
Of course, while Peter may be incredibly smart and focused when desired, he can also hold the attention span of a fruit fly, therefore, it should be no surprise that his run slows to a jog then an amble when spotting a bustling newspaper stand in which overflows with familiar red and black papers.
Many purchasers remain hovering beside the stand, hands occupied by newspapers as they mumble gossip to themselves which hints to Peter that the headline must be an interesting one. He’s quickly proven correct when managing to push pass the inconsiderate readers and catch a glance at the bold white headline:
NEW YORK’S KILLER! SPIDER-MAN’S TURNING TO EXCESSIVE FORCE! CIVILIANS BEWARE!
Peter spares a careful glance at the people surrounding him with furrowed eyebrows. Excessive force? Alright, so last night he webbed three guys to a wall and left the other two hanging upside down from a streetlight, but that’s not excessive, is it? He didn’t even land a direct punch on any of them, and they were shooting at him! What’s Jameson want him to do; stand there and just get shot?!…Okay, so don’t answer that last question.
While it might not be the wisest move to reward the Daily Bugle for spreading rumors, curiosity gets the best of Peter, leading him to purchase a newspaper to examine himself during his continued his route to school. Despite the obvious challenge behind reading and trying not to run into people at the same time, he manages to unveil the company’s latest ridiculous allegation about him, one that make his blood boil.
Osin Yousaf, leader of the Selvaggi gang that Peter had stopped the previous night, had been found dead earlier this morning after the police had received some anonymous tip. Regardless of a complete lack of actual evidence left at the crime scene, the Daily Bugle claims that the nonexistent ‘evidence’ points towards Spiderman having killed Yousaf all because of the bank robbery earlier that night. The newspaper even tops the article off by giving a warning for civilians to be careful in case Spiderman begins using excessive force against them, too.
Of course, it’s all completely outlandish. While Peter’s had several run-ins with Yousaf and his crew, he hadn’t seen the gang leader since they split up last night, both flooring it in different directions which had forced Peter to pick only one group to pursue. Even if he had seen Yousaf, there’s no way he would’ve killed him because Spiderman doesn’t kill people. That’s his number one rule!
Unfortunately for Peter, the newspaper claims had only been the start to his bad day. From being marked tardy in Spanish to the realization that he’s forgotten his history homework, poor Parker’s mood has been thrown in the gutter by the time lunch break rolls around and that group of six or so students sitting exactly one table in front of him aren’t making things better.
Peter rolls his eyes the second he hears one girl bring up the Daily Bugle’s latest report, asking for her friends’ opinions on Spiderman becoming violent. While most of the teens seem to agree on how unsettling it is and worry the police won’t doing anything about it, there’s only one person who immediately shoots down the preposterous idea.
“You guys are kidding me, right? Spiderman did not kill that guy,” even Peter raises his head, his face covered with crumbs from the cold grilled cheese sandwich he’s been miserably eating, not that there’s another way to eat school lunch even on the best of days.
“And what makes you so sure?”
“I could ask you the same question. Did you not read the details of the body’s condition? The guy’s hand had been cut clean off and he had a single, yet perfect stab wound that went right through his spine and out the other end! There’s no way Spiderman’s capable of something like that! The guys a pacifist looser!” Alright, so that one hurt, but Peter bites his tongue, having learned a long time ago that the more he inserts himself in conversations about Spiderman, the more suspicious people grow.
“Then who else would’ve done it? Seems like too big of a consequence for the guy to be involved in a crime Spiderman stopped then end up dead all in the same night!” One girl argues, causing the boy, who shares at least two classes with Peter and is named Josh, to lean back in his chair with crossed arms.
“The Night Ripper,” he says it so casually, peeking Peter’s unnoticed interest.
“The Night Ripper’s just a legend-” The girl goes to roll her eyes, but Josh sits up straight, the chair legs hitting the ground which a 'clink’.
“-No, they’re real! I did a project on them for my web design class. They say the Night Ripper’s a perfect assassin hired by the world’s most elite criminals. Armed with a blade made of vibranium, they’re like a one soldier army, eliminating everyone and anyone they’re told to while never sparing a soul. Think about it! It would make total sense for the Ripper to kill that Yousaf guy especially if he was involved in something bigger than a simple bank robbery!” Josh is beaming at his own point, eagerly waiting for his friends to agree with praises of how clever he is. Alas, the table only breaks out in laughter.
“You and your damn stories, Josh. Where’d you do your research? Wikipedia?”
“Wikipedia has a surprising number of good sources. Teachers just tell you not to use it because they like to make our lives miserable!” He attempts to defended himself, his face growing red with embarrassment over his friends’ laughter,“ I’m telling you, there’s something big going on in New York and all these gang related crimes are related to it! So is the Night Ripper! They had to have been the one to kill that guy, not Spiderman!”
While his friends continue to wave off his claims, Peter can’t help but hang onto Josh’s theory, making a mental note of the name. 'Night Ripper’, huh? A spooky name, he guesses, but all villains these days have some type of weird gimmick.
If this 'Ripper’ person really does exist and is behind Yousaf’s death, then they must be some type of big shot like Josh said considering the body’s condition in which the Daily Bugle made a point of detailing as violent. While a lot of questions can be asked about the Night Ripper, there’s one in particular that tumbles around in Peter’s mind: if the Night Ripper is working for elite criminals and is somehow connected with the rising gang violence in New York, just how long will it take until they cross paths with Spiderman?
“Following a high-speed chase through lower Manhattan, five of the suspects were finally apprehended by none other than the masked hero, Spiderman. Law enforcement has taken the five into custody where they have been charged with robbery, assault with a deadly weapon, and attempted manslaughter with more charges still pending. The Chief of Police would like to remind the public that at least four other suspects are still on the run. If you have any information on the individuals seen in the provided surveillance videos, you are urged to call the following number-”
The horrid static of the old TV only ceases once it’s shut off midway through the reporter’s sentence, yet the man remains frozen in place with a same shameful bow of his head. His eyes are glued to the ground, his hands rubbing nervously against his pant leg as if trying to wipe off a stubborn stain of dirt. He isn’t brave enough to so much as glance at the woman who stands before him with crossed arms and a glare colder than liquid hydrogen.
She doesn’t say anything for a good minute or two since turning off the report which acts as an impressive intimidation method, one that dares the man to break the silence first in order to further fuel her anger. Even when he doesn’t make that mistake, she still moves on with business with a fuming shout.
“Do you realize how much shit you’ve put the organization in!” It isn’t meant as a question despite her used format,“ a police chase through Manhattan? You were supposed to be on a stealth mission! Get the money and disappear before anyone notices! You didn’t even try to be inconspicuous!”
“We tried to be subtle, ma'am, but then Spiderman showed up and one thing led to another. The alarms got tripped, Robbie and the others got webbed up, we…we went one way and the others got captured by Spiderman…there…there was nothing we could do,” the man’s voice grows quieter with each spoken word, his nerves slowly being ingested by the rageful look he receives. He should’ve known from the moment he opened his mouth that no excuse could be good enough to soften his current situation.
“Maybe I’m not an expert in the matter, but if it only takes one itsy bitsy spider to crush you, then I’d say you aren’t exactly cut out for this line of work, wouldn’t you agree?” The woman hisses, the man opening his mouth to further argue for his case, but he isn’t granted the pleasure,“ the boss is furious, I’ll have you know. This is the third job this month that you’ve messed up all because of that Spider.”
“I-I understand, ma'am, but I promise you, this was our last mistake! We will succeed for sure next time; I swear it on my life!” The man feels a small sense of relief when the woman turns on her heel away from him, but it’s short lived.
“Unfortunately, there won’t be a next time, Yousaf,” she says it causally while digging through her purse on the table, finally plucking out the phone she searched for. Her voice is now much calmer compared to what it had been just a few seconds prior,“…you see, Spiderman has become quite the nuisance as of lately and our boss is tired of having his toes stepped on, so he’s decided to take a new approach to the issue; a more appropriate measure for our desperate times.”
Yousaf shallows the lump in his throat, feeling that he might choke,“ has he…?”
A chill runs down his spine when a quiet ‘thud’ hits his ears from behind. Unlike the woman who continues to stare down at her device in a bored manner, Yousaf spins around to the sound’s source, his heart nearly stopping his chest.
Despite the dark goggles and mask that cover their face, it takes him no time at all to recognize the person who promptly stands from where they had landed on the ground mere feet behind him, unpretentiously sauntering over to join the two.
“Yousaf, I believe you’ve met (L/n), right? Well, I say 'met’, but I’m sure the two of you have never actually spoken to each other. 'Seen’ would be a more fitting word, wouldn’t it?” At last, the woman glances up from her phone, the corner of her lip tugging upwards into a cruel smirk,“ the boss has decided it’s best to finally utilize our little (L/n) out in the open field since, as I’m sure you’re aware, she has a perfect record comparable to an entire gang. With that said, there really won’t be much point in wasting time and patience in keeping you employed with us anymore.”
“H…Huh?” It’s all he can say through his shocked state.
“Of course, despite your own incompetence, some of your employees show great promise in which the boss plans to put to good use under (L/n)’s command. I’m sure you’ll agree that it’s an excellent choice, really.”
“But what about me?!” The shock finally wares off, replacing itself with vexation,“ what am I going to do!? I have a family to provide for! I need this job!”
“That’s none of our concern anymore,” the woman shrugs while turning back to her purse to put her phone away, but Yousaf isn’t having it. Throwing his common sense out the window, he lets his fury take over instead, a complete contrast to the submissive behavior he usually shows towards his higher ups.
“BULLSHIT-!” He takes one step forward, reaching his hand out to grab the woman’s shoulder, but within a blink of an eye, an agonizing pain is sent through his arm, ripping a scream from his lungs.
Throwing himself back in terror, he only manages to trip over his own feet, but the pain of the cement ground proves far less harrowing than that surrounding his wrist. Lacking the ability to think clearly, he makes the mistake of glancing down at his hand, or at least, where his hand should’ve been attached.
Another scream rattles through the room yet the woman only spares a tired glimpse over her shoulder, humming at gory sight that greets her eyes,“ my, you’re just a walking disaster anymore, aren’t you Yousaf? I’d figure you to have at least a decent amount of intelligent, but I guess this is an even better choice for the company that I originally thought…
"I trust you’ll be fine cleaning everything up on your own. I have a meeting across town and would hate to get blood on my skirt,” after receiving a wordless nod from you, she swings her purse over her shoulder before going to take her leave, however, as she walks past him, Yousaf reaches out shakily with his remaining hand, grabbing hold of her leg.
“…P-Please…I-I d-don’t wanna die-die here!”
“An orders and order, Yousaf, but don’t worry. I heard (L/n) is very quick with her work,” the woman effortlessly lifts her leg from his grip, shaking her head in disappointment at the sight of the bloody handprint that now stains her stockings.
Her heels create a sharp clicking pattern against the ground which does nothing to echo out the cut off scream left in her wake; not that she pays it any mind anyways. Instead, she taps away at her phone while waiting patiently right outside the warehouse despite the driver of a black Mercedes-Bez holding the vehicle’s door open for her mere feet away.
“Don’t worry yourself with the body. He wants it to be a message to anyone else who’s thinking of slipping up,” she explains dully once feeling your presences,” I’ll assume you already understand your next target. The boss has given you the freedom to take down Spiderman in any method you see fit. No one cares how messy it gets, just get it done.“
She barely spares you a glance as you coolly clean the blood off your sword with an already stained towel, your goggles glowing in the shine of the streetlights,” of course, ma'am.“
