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.
“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.”
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.“
-Contains eventual warnings/possibly sensitive content (the specific warnings will always be listed at top of the story and/or the exact chapter they occur in)
Overview:Aunt May and your parents visit for dinner, but instead of having a peaceful night with family like you had ordinally hoped for, your husband and yourself are stressed with the task of hiding an unexpected problem from your relatives, one that could expose Spiderman’s true identity if you aren’t careful enough.
Even from your spot in the kitchen, you can hear the living room TV echoing. Every couple of minutes, you’ll take a short break from your work to peek around the corner, smiling contently at the sight that always greets you. For the last hour since he returned home, Peter has been sitting on the floor with his back leaned against the couch, his arms wrapped around your son who is placed on top his lap. Both Parker boys carry the same hypnotized looks on their faces, their mouths slightly agape with their eyes glued on whatever episode of Sesame Street is currently playing on the TV, although, you doubt the youngest understands most of it. He’s likely just happy to be with his daddy.
While Peter keeps an eye on the baby, you’ve gotten to work on making dinner. About a week ago, you had made plans with both your parents and Aunt May to have dinner together. While they claimed that a family visit has been long overdue, it’s clear they’re mainly wanting to spend more time with the baby, not that you could ever blame them for being entranced by such an adorably cubby face.
Little Benjamin Reilly Parker was born on June 14th with a small fluff of brown hair upon his head and a healthy weight of 7.6 pounds. Needless to say, after months of constant illness, mood swings, and relentless kicking from the baby, you were very eager to finally meet the little monster as was your husband.
Benjamin is only six and half months old, yet he already has his daddy wrapped around his finger, Peter happily taking on the role of a doting father regardless of what it entails. If Ben’s hungry, he’ll volunteer to cradle him with a bottle no matter the hour. If Ben wants to play, you can expect to find your husband sprawled across the carpet with the baby lying next to him in his activity gym. If Ben is being extra fussy with you during the night, you bet Spiderman is going to kick someone’s ass much faster so that he can sooner get home to his son.
Speaking of Spiderman, Ben doesn’t seem to notice a difference between the hero and daddy. The second Peter crawls through the window, Ben is already reaching out to him with a smile and endless babbling, knowing all too well who’s under the mask. About a month ago there had even been a few pictures on the Daily Bugle of Spiderman stopping to say ‘hello’ to young mother and her baby. Of course, you played dumb when your parents called to inquire about the incident, agreeing with them that Spider must not be able to resist such a cute baby while also secretly elbowing Peter who had laid his head against your shoulder with a smirk as he listened in.
If there’s one good thing about Ben’s young age, it’s his inability to talk so far. You’ve brought the worry up to Peter a few times, quizzing him on what he’ll do if lil’ Ben ever starts referring to Spiderman as dad in front of people. Peter often chooses to brush the question off, insisting that Ben’s young enough for the two of you to convince people he just thinks of his dad as a superhero, although, you’re personally not convinced with that plan. Eventually, your son will have to be taught to keep his father’s secret just that, but for now, it isn’t too big of a concern, after all, Ben has yet to even say his first word. It’s not like he’ll suddenly say 'hey, Spiderman’s my dad’ the next time you take him to the store.
Peter’s arms snake around your waist as you stir the pasta noodles, his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck which draws a smile from you,“ May just texted a few minutes ago. They’re almost here.”
He just nods, smiling against the exposed skin of your neck.
“You know, she offered to bring a meatloaf, too.”
Even without seeing it, you know he’s making a face by the sound he makes alone, hiding himself further away in your hair,“ thank goodness you’re cooking. Don’t ever tell her, but your cooking is way better than hers.”
“Now Peter, I can’t lie to Aunt May. I promised to tell her everything,” you giggle when glancing back at him, his bottom lip pushed out in a pout as he whines your name,“ I’m joking. You know your secrets are always safe with me, my dear.”
Peter hums in satisfaction, pressing a couple of quick kisses starting at the crook of your neck to your cheek before pulling himself away to grab the glass of water he originally came into the kitchen for. Meanwhile, you turn off the stove and go to grab some cream cheese from the fridge, subconsciously glancing towards the living room where you should’ve seen Ben sitting in either his bouncer or laying in his activity gym in front of the TV, but he’s in neither spot,” did you put Ben in the crib?“
Peter pulls the water glass away from his lips, raising an eyebrow at your strange question,” no? I laid him down on his blanket so that he could play with his toys.”
It only takes you two steps to enter the living room. Seeing that your apartment isn’t huge, neither are any of the rooms, therefore, you have a full view of the floor just from where you stand. At first, you expect to discover Ben either rolling or crawling around the carpet as such as been a habit of his ever since he first learned to rock his body about a month ago, but instead, you didn’t see your child anywhere, making your heart drop into your stomach.
“Peter, he’s not here.”
“What do you mean ‘he’s not here’?” You husband doesn’t sound concerned, the meaning behind your words not processing in his mind.
You walk around the room distraughtly, looking on the other side of the coffee table and the two small couches,“ I mean he’s not here. I don’t see him!”
It only takes seconds for Peter join you in the living room, panic sketched across his face when he realizes you aren’t just pulling his leg. The baby really is nowhere in sight causing both of you to franticly search for him, your minds racing as would any parent’s if in your situation.
“I only left him for a minute at best! How could he have crawled away that fast? Babies aren’t that fast, right?” Peter runs down the hallway, his eyes scanning the floor in search of his son. He even looks around the bedroom and bathroom despite both doors having been shut just on the off chance that Ben somehow got inside.
“I don’t see him, Peter! How-How could he have just disappeared like this? How did we lose our baby?!” You get onto the ground yourself, checking under the couches and tables then dashing into the kitchen in hopes that lil’ Ben had tried crawling in there after his father. No luck.
“Maybe we’re just missing him?”
“How do you miss a baby, Peter!? It’s a baby!” Your hands are on your head, your fingers digging into your hair as you face your husband, your thoughts racing over how terrible of a mother you must be to lose your six-month-old baby.
“I don’t know-!” Peter doesn’t finish his sentence, instead jumping back when a small drop of water hits his forehead. Even you notice, both of you looking up ever so slowly from each other to where the droplet had fallen from. The sight makes your eyes widen and hearts race even more than they have been if that’s even possible.
“…Peter?”
“…Yes, dear?”
“W-What the fuck?!”
Both of your eyes are locked on the ceiling, or better put, on your son;your six-and-a-half-month-old son who is hanging upside down directly above your husband with his signature two-tooth grin and a line of drool dripping from his puffy lips. All either of you could do is stare for what felt like an eternity, that was, until you break the silence with a cry.
“Peter, get him down!”
Your husband snaps out of his trance, leaping up and easily grabbing hold of your son, although, he has a bit of difficultly with the 'getting him down’ part. Moving his knees to the ceiling, Peter gently tugs on Ben, yet the baby’s hands and knees remain glued to their spot,“ he won’t let go.”
“What do you he won’t let go? Just pull him off.”
“I don’t want to hurt him.”
You think for a second before standing on the coffee table, but even on your toes, you can’t exactly reach him, your fingertips only barely brushing against Ben’s back. He babbles, reaching one hand out to you with a grabby motion,“ don’t let him fall, Peter.”
“I won’t.”
“Come on, Ben. Let go and come to mama. You want mama, right?” At last, Ben removes his other hand, reaching it out to you with his knees becoming unstuck soon after. Peter’s hand on his back prevents him from falling, allowing him to slowly lower Ben into your safe arms where you’ve never held onto him so tightly before.
Peter falls to your side, the two of you searching Ben for any injuries before looking into each other’s flabbergasted eyes. You open your mouth, although, you aren’t sure what you’ll even say. You don’t get the chance anyways. A ring echoes through the apartment as well as a soft knocking at the front door which makes both of your mouths fall open.
“…Shit. SHIT!”
“Language-uh, the baby!” Peter fusses even though he’s saying the same word inside his head. The realization hits you both like a train. You know Ben takes after Peter in both looks and personality, but powers to? You have a baby who sticks to walls and you’re only just figuring this out the second your family arrives?!
“What do we do? How do we explain Ben sticking to stuff?”
“We don’t. Here, I’ll get the door and watch over Ben while you finish dinner,” you go to hand Ben over to Peter, but when you hold him out, his hands remain stuck to your shirt. You whine Peter’s name, remaining frozen as he tries to shake Ben’s grip from you to no avail.
“Okay, new plan. I’ll get the door, you finish dinner. Don’t. Ruin. It,” there’s no time for arguing or new plans, another ring sounding off from the front door. Putting on your best 'I didn’t just find my baby on the ceiling’ smile, you hurry to the door with Ben while Peter dives into the kitchen.
“Hi,” you sing when seeing May and your parents together, stepping aside to let them in while praying they won’t notice your alarmed state,“ it’s good to see you all again. Please come in.”
“It’s always great to see you, too, (Y/n), as well as this little cutie, of course,” May waves at Ben with a bright smile which grows when he giggles at her, trying to hide his face against your shirt. Meanwhile, you give both of your parents the best side hug you can while also holding Ben’s unwavering grip as far away from touching any of them as possible.
“Oh, he’s gotten so much bigger since the last time we visited. You’re making your grandma feel old, little bug,” your mother coos at her grandson, reaching her arms out to take him from you only to be confused when you suddenly turn your body away sharply.
You’re quick to redirect the conversation before she can be offended,“ Peter’s in the kitchen finishing dinner so we can all sit in the living room until it’s done. Please excuse the mess, we didn’t have much time to clean up Ben’s toys.”
“No one’s going to blame you. Having kids is a messy business,” your father jokes, the three of them heading into the living room with you in their trail. With their backs turned, they are completely unaware of your internal dread as you fruitlessly attempt to pry Ben from your shirt once again. Peter has told you about how much he stuck to everything when he first got his powers, but this is ridiculous not to mention poorly timed!
Once everyone’s seated, you give an quick excuse while dodging your way into the kitchen where you find your husband rushing to get the sauce made with his limited cooking skills.
“Ben, come to dada,” he calls, providing you a small bit of relief when Ben listens and reaches for him, although, his leg remains stuck to your shirt. The two of you gently fight with him for a moment, trying to weaken his grip without too much force when a voice comes up behind you.
“I baked a pie for dessert; it’s Peter’s favorite. Should I just set it here?” By the time May looks up from her pie tin, Peter’s arms are around your waist, pulling you to him with Ben sandwiched between you both, not that the little guy minds, in fact, he seems to loving the extra attention he’s receiving.
“Yep, that’s fine,” Peter gives a rushed nod, swiveling the two of you so that he can lean over to kiss May’s cheek as she sets the pie on the corner next to him,“ it’s good to see you, May.”
“And you, too, Peter. I see your doing an excellent job raising your little one. He looks just like you did when you were his age. Oh, I’m sure he’s just the handful, too,” luckily, May’s oblivious to your strange behavior as well as the praying Peter is doing in his head as he watches her run a hand through Ben’s fluffy hair, both of you begging it not to stick. For the first time that night, fate is on your side with May successfully removing her hand from Ben.
The three of you share a short conversation, Peter never faltering his grip on you. Despite May’s various offers of help, he finally manages to convince her to wait in the living room while the two of you worry over dinner. With a relieved sigh once she exits, Peter turns to you only to be horrified by the look on your face as Ben tugs on a rather thick handful of your hair, the expression you’re giving your husband already saying it all.
You can hear May and your parents talking lively in the living room, unaware to the snipping of scissors as Peter cuts your hair from Ben’s grip. Although he tries to cut the least amount of hair as possible, you know by his grimace afterwards that it’s noticeable. He switches the scissors for Ben, taking him into the living room while you disappear into the bathroom to get a hair tie, putting your hair into a messy ponytail to hide the evidence.
From there on, it feels like you’re looking into the room every few seconds as you do the finishing touches to dinner. You know Peter’s just as worried by the various glances he sends towards the kitchen whenever no one’s looking at him. He makes every excuse in the book as to why no one can hold Ben while keeping him directly on his lap and far away from any other objects.
It’s as if you can read each other’s minds, knowing exactly what is at risk if anyone sees your baby’s tight grip. While they may not link it back to Spiderman directly, you’d eventually have to admit it just to keep them from ushering you to the doctors for your child’s strange 'disease’. Believe it or not, but neither of you really want to have that long conversation explaining to everyone that Peter’s not only Spiderman, but that his warped DNA has unexpectedly managed to passed down to the next generation.
Even when dinner’s ready, Peter doesn’t move Ben far from himself. You make your husband a plate, pressing a kiss against his cheek and ignoring Ben’s grabby hands as you pass by. As much as it kills you inside to hear Ben’s cries for attention, you let Peter convince him to sit with dada on the chair you had pulled up for them while mama sits with Auntie May on one couch, your parents together on the other.
“He sure loves his daddy, doesn’t he?” Your mother comments. Fortunately, you’re half away through dinner and no one’s noticed anything off yet.
“Yeah, his dada’s little boy. Aren’t you, Lil’ Ben?” Peter hums with a genuine smile while squeezing Ben’s cubby hand. Afterwards, Peter’s easily able to pull his own hand away from his son’s adhesive skin. ‘Must be nice’, you think.
“You’re gonna have to drop him off with us sometime, you know. He needs to learn he can get spoiled at grandma and grandpas,” your dad chuckles, leaning back in his chair with his empty plate balanced on his knee.
“It looks to me he’s already pretty spoiled here,” May jokes with a look of fondness while watching her nephew share his meal with his son one silly face and small fork full at a time. Ben’s admiration is clear by the way he stares up at his daddy with glittering eyes and a spaghetti-stained face, a look Peter shares (minus the stained face since May thankfully taught him long ago not to be messy when he eats).
“…Dada’s boy for sure,” you can’t help but smile yourself with one look towards your husband and son. Yeah, Ben’s powers are going to be a pain to deal with and it’ll scare the life out of you if he ever decides he wants to fight crime like daddy, but nothing could ever make you love your son any less. For the time being, you’ll just have to find a way to control his powers. Sure, your family is going to be disappointed when you don’t let them hold Lil’ Ben tonight, but it isn’t as if he’s going anywhere. Once your husband and you figure everything out, you’ll be able to invite them over for a much better dinner-
“-D..da..dada,” your eyes go wide as do everyone else’s when hearing the tiny yet clear voice, all eyes turning to the source, however, when you do, you’re surprised to notice that Ben isn’t looking at Peter. Instead, his head is facing forward with his cubby hand reaching towards the muted TV screen or, more specifically, towards the picture of Spiderman that’s showing on the news.
It takes every ounce of will power for Peter not to immediately burst with joy, agreeing with Ben in front of everyone and encouraging him that it is, in fact, dada on screen. Instead, he must suffer with that bubble of happiness in silence the same way you do as your eyes dart between your husband’s face to your baby’s.
“I guess Spiderman sure made quite the impression on the little bug,” your mother reckons in awe.
“Was that his first word?” May asks in surprise and you nod wordlessly, Peter being too busy holding a hand over his mouth in a poor attempt at blocking his giddy laughter. He has to force himself not to shake you while gushing about over Ben saying ‘dada’.
“Damn, not even to his own dad?” Your mother elbows your father for his remark, hissing at him to be quiet.
“We shouldn’t be too upset, I guess. Spiderman’s a great guy, after all; someone good Ben can look up to, right Peter?” You smirk, placing a hand over his free one while his other is still preoccupied hiding the massive grin over his face that would look far too strange on the face of a father who supposably just heard his son call someone else 'dada’. You can’t blame him, though. Even you can’t suppress the grin as you look you down at Ben,“ dada’s right here, honey. Can you say it again? Dada?”
“Dada?” Peter finally speaks, tickling Ben’s arm to gain his attention,“ dada. Da-da.”
“Da…dada,” Ben watches Peter’s mouth, following the movements and sounds he heard. He smiles at the bright look his daddy gives him, repeating the word once more with both hands outstretched in attempts to grabbing his face,“ dada!”
“That’s right, Ben! Dada!” Peter lifts him up, holding him in a standing position so that Ben could actually put his hands against his cheeks,“ dada…and that’s mama. Can you say mama? Ma-ma. Ma-ma.”
Ben looks to you, staring for a moment while babbling the sounds he’s hearing before finally getting it right after quite a bit of practice,“ mama.”
“Yes, I’m mama,” laughing cheerfully, you run a hand through his fluffy hair, not even considering the possibly that it could’ve gotten stuck. You’re too happy to worry over that.
Ben giggles, looking back to Peter and reaching across his face. Even with his sticky hands, Peter doesn’t mind, pressing his forehead to his son’s as they both laugh. Your mother and May gush about how cute they both are while your father sits back with a smile of his own. The joy everyone feels over witnessing Ben’s first words is enough to distract your guests from your strange behavior throughout the night, eventually excusing your habits of not letting them hold the baby as the two of you must just be soaking up the moment with your son.
By the end of just three hours, your parents and May depart from the apartment but not without making you promise to bring Ben to visit them soon. Once everyone is out the door, you shut it with a tired sigh that turns to a gentle smile when you hear Ben’s babbling behind you.
“Ma-Mama,” turning around, you’re greeted by your smiling husband and baby, the later reaching out to you with grabby hands.
“That was fun,” Peter comments, brushing your hair back to press a kiss to your forehead as you take Ben from him, fully aware it’ll be a fight to pry him away from yourself later. Looking from your child to your husband, you already expected the giant grin plastered on his lips,” Ben said his first words. He called me 'dada’!“
"Technically he called Spiderman 'dada’ meaning you’ve got some competition for the role, Mr. Parker,” you tap Ben’s noise, smirking when Peter rolls his eyes, his arms wrapping around your waist to bring you closer to him, but your smirk soon turns into a frown, a sigh escaping your lips again,“…what are we going do now? They may not have seen anything tonight but May wants us to visit next week and if any of them ever notice Ben sticking to stuff, they’ll eventually realize why he called Spiderman 'dada.”
“I know…May would be heartbroken if she found out you had an affair with Spiderman, but I guess no one can really blame you. Word on the street is he’s pretty hot not to mention excellent in bed. How is a normal guy like me to compete?” Peter jokes, causing you to whine his name in halfhearted annoyance. He chuckles, moving to kiss your lips, although, he only gets a small peck before you move away with a pout.
“Peter, I’m being serious. I don’t care so much about our family knowing, but if the wrong person finds out, what will happen?”
Now it’s Peter’s turn to sigh, his forehead resting against yours,“ then we make sure no one does…I’ve been through all of this before, I know what to expect. I’ll teach Ben how to control his powers and, as he gets older, we’ll make sure he understands that Spiderman and his dad need to be separate people.”
When you lift your head, your lips slightly brush against his,“ and if he decides to fight crime while wearing bright spandexes?”
“I’ll give him 'the talk’,” he simpers, his hot breath blowing against your lips before he finally rids of the gap with the deep kiss he’s been waiting for all night.
“…Peter?” You break away, but the distance only lasts a second before Peter’s lips are back on yours.
Overview: Your husband’s spider-sense has been acting up quite a bit lately, making him paranoid that something will happen to you if he can’t locate the threat in time.
Twelve years ago, if someone were to ask Peter Parker what the best thing to ever happen to him was, he would’ve made up a convincing lie while secretly thinking about the radioactive spider bite that granted him his powers, but if someone were to ask Peter Parker the same question now, he won’t hesitate to gush about his wonderful wife instead (although, the spider bite will still be a close second, no doubt).
Peter adores you, something no one in their right minds can deny without the man making it his personal mission to prove them wrong and you’re really no different yourself, often spending entire nights cursing out the person who just sent your husband home to you bloody and bruised. During those nights, Peter likes to close his tired eyes and imagine the hell you’d try to give his enemies if you ever happened across them in person which always rises a chuckle from his lungs especially when you notice his thoughts, insisting on the damage you could do despite not having any powers of your own. ’Never underestimate an angry wife’ is what you always say, and Peter never makes the mistake of forgetting it.
Being Peter Parker’s wife has plenty of benefits, your favorite simply being that get to call yourself Mrs. Parker, a title you wear with pride after having dreamed about it since the beginning of your relationship (and even before it, honestly). If you could look into a mirror at the same time that you introduce Peter as your husband, you’d see the sparkle of happiness that tinkles in your eyes. Telling others that Peter’s yours causes your heart to swell, but not nearly as much as it does when he introduces you as his wife. No mirror is required to see the joy that takes over his own expression then. Nearly five years of marriage and you both continue to act like giddy teenagers when it comes to your relationship. Chances are, that’s not going to change anytime soon either.
Peter is an extremely loving husband who does all he can to ensure you never forget his admiration towards you whether it’s through small gifts like bouquets of handpicked flowers, poorly cooked yet well intended candlelight dinners, or even simple words of affection throughout the day. For Peter, all the stresses of his life melt away under your presences alone whether it’s when you’re wordlessly laying with your legs over his lap while reading on the couch or when you’re patching him up after a particularly rough patrol, your attention fixated on your work until he steals it with deep kisses and roaming hands. Where most of your friends complain that their husbands seem distant after a few years or less, you have yet to experience that yourself and so long as Peter’s around, you doubt you ever will.
Of course, it’s not to say your marriage with Peter doesn’t have its challenges, the biggest drawback being the fact that it isn’t just Peter who you married. When you recited your vows all those years ago, promising to always love and protect the man in front of you, unknown to all of your guests, you hadn’t just meant Peter, but also his alter ego, Spiderman.
Being married to Spiderman is a little more demanding than if you were simply married to the ordinary side of Peter. Most nights, Peter’s out saving New York City, sometimes not returning until the earliest hours of the morning, however, that isn’t what bothers you the most about his second job. Yes, it gets lonely at times, but say the word and Peter will spend each second he can in-between with you. What troubles you the most is the constant condition he returns in once his superhero work is done.
Peter Parker is a good man at heart. He’d do anything to protect New York and his loved ones, but even with his spider-like powers, he isn’t invincible. It never matters how much he assures you otherwise, you have always understood from the day he told you about his secret that you could lose him at any moment which is a day you can never stop fearing.
Peter shares a similar fear, being notorious for worrying over your safety and how his heroic activities might put you in more danger that he can stand. Spiderman had made too many enemies over the years, most of which would be ecstatic to discover the masked vigilante they despised is married to you. Peter could never forgive himself is something happens to you, therefore, he can be rather protective especially under certain circumstances. Crimes are on the rise in New York? Maybe you should work from home today. He recently pissed off some new supervillain? Yeah, he’ll stay in a motel for a few nights just to be sure they don’t track him down to you. His spider-senses have been going off none stop for the last two days? Forget him leaving your side.
You don’t need spider-senses of your own to know something is wrong with your husband’s. His strange behavior lately is enough to give you that guess on its own. While it isn’t necessarily unheard of him to suddenly get anxious, usually he discovers the cause right away whether it’s a crime occurring around the corner or that one time someone tried to steal your purse as the two of you walked home after visiting May, but whatever it ended up being, it has never lasted for as long as his current worries.
It all began at around 1:00am yesterday when Peter suddenly jerked you awake, scaring the daylights out of you with the claim that someone was in the apartment, but after an extensive search of the area, he found nothing alarming. Even so, he continued to fidget all night, his strong arms snaked around your midsection as they held your back to his chest, your hands intertwined together. When you had questioned him about it directly, he mumbled into your hair that he ‘just didn’t feel right’. Needless to say, neither of you got much sleep that night both due to Peter’s restlessness and the shared anticipation for something bad happening.
You had awoken again around noon, not too surprised to find yourself alone in bed with a note on the bedstand telling you to have a good day with a little reminder of your dinner plans at a new sushi restaurant down the street. Not feeling the greatest due to your lack of sleep the night before, you spent most of the day being lazy, snacking on crackers and watching tv from bed until Peter came home. By the time he walked through the front door with a bright smile on his face, you had disregarded the morning’s situation with his spider-sense, however, when he embraced you, his body tensed and his head flinched to the side, wordlessly telling you his anxiety had returned.
Deciding he was may be stressed with work and in need of a break, the two of you continued with your previously planned dinner date, one that didn’t end out as well as you had hoped due to you getting a bad case of food poisoning. While holding your hair back as you threw up all of your stomach’s contents, Peter made a hopeful comment about how the food positioning must’ve been what his spider-senses were worried about all day, but alas, the second he joined you in bed that night, the tingling feeling came back with an extra bite.
Considering all the factors, Peter reached the conclusion that something’s wrong at home and if something’s wrong at home, he refuses to leave until he has discovered the threat. Perhaps it’s selfish, but New York City comes second to his wife, so throughout the day, the two of you have searched for anything that could be out of place to not avail. No alarms are going off signaling a gas leak, there’s no smell of anything burning not to mention you checked all of the outlets, nothing is out of place to raise suspicion of having been robbed…and yet Peter’s spider-sense is still bothering him.
By noon, you opted to just ignore it, craving subs from the corner deli shop for lunch, however, Peter argued against the idea, refusing to let you go anywhere so long as he feel so anxious, but after some pouting and moping on your part, he felt guilty enough to cave in, the two of you creating a compromise that he’d take you to get subs if you stayed directly at his side the whole time. So long as you get to drool over the sight of the mouthwatering subs, you didn’t mind.
“It’s like when I first got bitten; before I knew how to control my powers. There’s something driving my spider-sense crazy and I just can’t find it,” Peter complaints to you out loud, watching from his spot on the kitchen counter as you cut the two subs in half,“ I felt it when we went out to the deli, but if I go into the bedroom or living room, I don’t feel it…You’re not poisoning my food, are you?”
You chuckle with a shake of your head at the question that many wives would find insulting,“ nope, afraid not, love.”
Peter huffs in annoyance, although, it isn’t aimed towards you. Instead, it’s aimed towards his powers. Why are they acting up so suddenly after twelve years? Is he losing them or his control? That can’t be it since everything else is fine like his healing and strength. Only his spider-sense is being difficult.
“It’s strange. You’re sure it just started yesterday?” You glance over your shoulder at him while setting each slice of the subs on two plates accompanied by a handful of chips (or two hands in the case of your plate).
Peter nods when you look at him,“ when I woke you up. It kept up until I got up again in the morning then was fine all day at work until I got home. Even at the sushi restaurant, I felt it.”
You grimace at the memory, pointing the butter knife at him accusingly,“ there was a reason for that time! That was the worse food poisoning I’ve ever had in my life. In case you already forgot, I was throwing up forhours. I’ll never eat sushi again!”
Peter smiles, his cheek resting against his fist which was propped up on his knee,“ give it two weeks and you’ll be wanting to go back.”
“Doubt it,” you gag, passing the two plates over to him to take to the living room while you circle around to the fridge to grab two cans of soda.
“They need to update their slogan from 'best subs in Queens’ to 'best subs in New York’. It was the right call to get lunch there, babe,” he comments, looking down at the messy sandwiches while taking a seat on the couch with a smile which grew when he heard you snicker.
“Five years of marriage and you still doubt your wife, Mr. Parker. When will you learn that I’m always right?” You set one can of soda on the coffee table in front of him before taking your plate from his hand and moving to join him on the couch, that was, until he suddenly grabbed your wrist, stopping you in place,“…what is it, Pete?”
Peter doesn’t answer. He isn’t even looking directly up at you yet his eyebrows are furrowed, his face scrunched up in concertation as he focused on the tingling of his nerves.
“…Take a step back?” It sounds like a question when he lets go of your wrist, not looking to you. You raise an eyebrow at him, but follow his words, nonetheless, walking backwards until you’re nearly in the kitchen again, your plate of food balanced over the palm of your hand,“…come back…”
You can’t help but roll your eyes, walking back over to the couch and sitting down at last,“ you’re sure acting weird lately- weirder than usual, that is.”
Still, he doesn’t answer you, instead standing from the couch wordlessly. You turn your attention away from your food, frowning at your husband who stares down at you with narrowed eyes before slowly kneeling in front of you. You hum your concern, setting your plate on your lap so that you could move your hands to brush against his hair. He continues to stare at your midsection silently before his eyes go wide, his mouth slightly agape.
“Pete? What’s wrong, hun?”
“…I found it.”
“Found what?”
He looks up at you, his eyes twinkling in both the light of the apartment window and the beads of water in them. His hands moved to your stomach, pressing against it ever so carefully as if it is the most precious thing in the world.
“…Why my spider-sense has been going off…That’s why I felt someone else in the apartment the other night and why I only feel it whenever I’m directly around you,” his words became increasingly more rush and excited as his sat up a bit taller so that he can move his hands to your cheek while possibly the widest smile you’ve ever seen tugged at each end of his lips, “ you’re pregnant!”
“H-Huh?” Now it’s your turn for your eyes to go wide, one hand subconsciously moving to your stomach as the other moved to set your plate completely to the side, the food you waited so desperately for completely forgotten,“ b-but…how would you…?”
It makes sense the more you consider it. The two of you are married and like any loving married couple, well, you take part in quite a bit of ‘intimacy’ which you both have recently started taking less precautions with. It isn’t as if you’ve been actively trying for a baby, but you also haven’t been actively trying to prevent one either. One could say that you had both agreed on having a kid or two at some point while the fear of being parents still wavered your minds, leading you both to conclude it would be easier to let fate decide what will happen and when.
Once Peter’s words fully process in your mind, you are quick to stand to your feet with your husband following directly in your trail on the way to the bathroom. You practically tear it apart in search for the tests you had bought three months ago, shooing Peter out once you locate them. Even then, you can hear him pacing just outside the door, mumbling out loud to himself over the likelihood. You two have definitely been intimate as of recently, your period isn’t due for another week so it hasn’t given you the chance to notice it’s possible absences, but you’ve been tired and sick while also eating more than usual, and he only gets his spider-senses around you especially when your stomach is closest to him…he’s certain your pregnant, but at the same time, he refuses to get his hopes up too much before it’s confirmed (not that they aren’t already all the way up with the chance alone).
After what felt like hours to Peter, you open the door, the little white stick in your hands as you stare at him with wide eyes. At first, he worries he had been wrong, but when you suddenly leap at him, your arms flung around his shoulders as you laugh and cry at the same time, he lets all those doubts wash away with happy tears of his own. His spider-senses were never alerting him of a threat, only to his child’s existence inside your womb; the tiniest of heartbeats calling out to him from the moment it began.
“You’re pregnant! We’re going to be parents!” Your laughter increases when Peter effortlessly spins you around before setting you down and eagerly kissing you. When you both pull away from the deep kiss, he runs a hand through his hair giddily,“ we’re gonna be parents! I’m gonna be a dad! I-I gotta call Aunt May! She’s going to be so happy, but first-”
He barely gives himself time to finish his own sentence, peppering you in countless butterfly kisses with one hand on your hip and the other over your stomach where he could now knowingly sense his unborn son or daughter growing.
…It looks like the radioactive spider bite is now in third place for the best things to ever happen to Peter Parker.
You weren’t sure if it was the whispered knocking you somehow heard or the slight shift of red and blue you spotted in the corner of your eyes, but either way, you found your attention being drawn away from your laptop screen to the bedroom window where a familiar culprit stood on the fire escape outside. Regardless of his identity being hidden behind his infamous mask, you could perfectly visualize the goofy smile he had pulling at his lips just by the way he seemed to perk up when noticing he had gained your attention at last. You could also make the assumption that he was silently begging you to provide him refuge from the cold, a gift he was most thankful for after long patrols on winter nights.
Removing yourself from the bed, you hurried to open the window, allowing your friend to finally slip inside where the room’s warmth welcomed him with a wave of comfort compared to the chilled breeze of New York City’s air. Even you shivered upon feeling the icy air which managed to seep inside after him before you could close the window again,“ what are you doing out so late? It’s freezing.”
“I’ve been out later in colder weather,” he dusted off your worry which a shrug. By the time you turned around, he already had his mask off, allowing you to confirm that he did, in fact, wear that sideways smile of his that never failed to make your heart swell,“ besides, it’s New Year’s Eve. Everybody’s out late.”
“A lot of crime I’m guessing?” You scanned over his body with your eyes, a habit you had developed after the first few times your friend had showed up battered at your window. Such was usually the main reason he visited as his alter ego. Although you were no doctor, you could bandage him up better than he could himself not to mention your presence alone made him feel better after long nights of fighting villains. Surprisingly, he looked unscathed for once with no visible wounds at least.
“Not really. It looks like there’s a lot of police out doing the work for me tonight,” he answered happily while glancing around your room, taking note of the glowing laptop set aside on your bed. He felt a small amount of relief knowing he hadn’t woken up even if he doubted he would’ve. He was certain you stayed up late most nights especially considering his frequent nightly visits,“ is your family home?”
“My mom already went to sleep, and you know my sister. She gets so absorbed in her games that she wouldn’t notice an earthquake,” it wasn’t unusual for him to worry about your family’s whereabouts since it wouldn’t exactly look the best if your mother or sister entered your bedroom only to find you whispering to a half-naked Peter Parker dressed as Spiderman while you patched his wounds. Your mother would surely freak out, and your sister couldn’t keep her mouth shut long enough to not tell everyone she knows who Spiderman is; neither situation would be good.
While his questions about your family never surprised you, his next question made you raise an eyebrow,“ do you have your coat?”
“My coat? Why?”
“I have something I want to show you and it’s cold out.”
“Peter, it’s 11:30 at night and 8 degrees outside. Where would we even go this late?”
It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Peter nor were you against hanging out at the moment, after all, you were best friends and spend most of your time together already, but that was with Peter Parker, not Spiderman. Refusing to ever put your life in possible danger, the idea of anyone seeing you by Spiderman’s side never sat well with Peter, therefore, he normally refused to even chance it. The only exception he made was to visit you after his patrols, but even that took a great deal of convincing after the first occurrence. All it took was one enemy or even the Daily Bugle to spot you together which would risk the wrong people discovering you were something special to the hero and as a hero, it was never a good idea to have someone openly special to you. Peter would never forgive himself if you gained so much as a scratch from someone trying to get to him. So, why was he going to risk it tonight?
His hand reached for the back of his neck, his smile turning into one born of nerves. You could’ve sworn there was even a bit of pink to his cheeks, but maybe that was just due to the cold,“ it’s a surprise.”
You hummed in wonder, too tired to decipher where you could possibly be going so late on a holiday. Nevertheless, you agreed, after all, who were you to deny spending New Year’s Eve night with your favorite guy? You loved Peter enough to spend every night with him if he asked.
~ ~ ~
Ever since the night you found out Peter was Spiderman, you wondered what it was like for him to spend his nights swinging around New York City, being granted a bird’s eye view of all the shining lights and tiny people walking below. You had imagined it was especially beautiful during the holiday season…Well, you couldn’t really say it was as amazing in person compared to those daydreams.
It was a wonder that Peter hadn’t complained about how tightly you held onto him, your legs locked around his waist like a boa constrictor with your arms wrapped a little less tightly around his neck as to not choke him, however, you still held on tight enough to remain firm against his chest. Deep down, you knew Peter would never drop you. He had promised as much from the second you stepped onto the fire escape to the moment he actually leaped into the air not to mention he never dared take his left arm off of your back, only using his right to swing around. Regardless, you refused to let your grip falter as he kept your head tucked against the crook of his neck, the cold air burning your cheeks and causing your eyes to tear up anytime you gained the courage to glance down at the streets below. You had no idea how Peter did it every night; the constant shifts between free falling before suddenly being jerked back up. Luckily, you had been on enough carnival rides to not throw up.
"You hanging in there?” Peter glanced down at you, the hint of teasing obvious in his voice.
“How much further?” You only answered his question by pushing your face closer against his suit, your entire body shivering despite having the thickest coat you owned on. You were really going to chew him out later for not wearing a warmer outfit himself during the winter months.
“Almost there,” he chuckled, taking a hard right that jerked your bodies to the side,“ your hood up?”
You only nodded, having been careful to keep the top of your hood pressed against his chin to prevent it from blowing back. You hadn’t been surprised to find Peter had one major condition for taking you out with him as Spiderman: keep your hood up at all times. While anyone could see Spiderman swinging around with a random girl, no one would be able to see your face well enough to identify exactly who you were. Of course, you had no objects to this rule especially considering how cold it was.
Suddenly, the streets became louder, the sound of cheering echoing out the harsh wind that blew past your ears the entire time. Peeking your eyes open again, you looked down upon the hundreds of people below the two of you, most of which were wearing top hats, cheap beaded necklaces, and blow-up sticks which helped them compete against each other when making as much noise as possible. While some of the crowd’s cheering became directed towards Peter as they took instant notice to Spiderman swinging above, most of the attention was strictly focused ahead as everyone watched the glowing ball upon the One Times Square building.
Finally, Peter landed, carefully lowering you down while warning you to watch your step. Hundreds of feet above the street, you found yourselves on top of Times Square Studios where you not only had an amazing view of New York City’s biggest New Year’s Eve party, but also the famous Times Square Ball in which flashed various patterns of colors as it waited in the dark sky for its moment to truly shine. You could only stare in awe at it all. It was beautiful.
“Are you surprised?” Peter’s voice broke your thoughts, ripping your attention away from the celebration below to him. The lights of the billboards and street illuminated him, making the eyes of his suit practically glow thanks to their reflective surface.
Despite having lived in New York your entire life, you had never actually seen the New Year’s celebration in person. Your mother, forever a worrier, didn’t trust giant crowds, so allowing you to go just wasn’t an option. You had told Peter this a week ago as well as your wish to see the ball drop at least once in person, but you never actually considered he’d take it to heart. It was only a small point in a long night’s conversation you two had. To have him not only remember and take you to the celebration, but to also get you the practically the best seats out of everyone else-
“-This is amazing! Thank you, Peter,” you spun around, wrapping your arms back around his neck, this time in a tight embrace. He smiled under the mask, returning the embrace as he rested his chin against the top of your head. While it may not be visible, his heart warmed at both the sight of you happy and the feeling of having you so close yet again. It was a wonder that he managed to remember where Times Square was with having someone he held so dearly to his heart being held literally to his chest.
“I hoped you would like it. You said you’ve never been and neither have I. Who better to watch the new year start than with you?”
You smiled, the red of your cheeks no longer being due to the cold. Best friends or not, it made your stomach feel fuzzy to think Peter would think of you. Sure, you were the only person who knew he was Spiderman, but it wasn’t like he couldn’t have gone by himself. Hell, it would’ve probably been a great opportunity for him to ask someone like Gwen Stacey out. What girl wouldn’t want to spend New Year’s Eve with Spiderman?
Soon, the two of you found yourselves sitting on the roof of the building, Peter lying on his back with his arms folded under his head while you sat with your knees to your chest and gloved hands in your pockets, trying to keep as warm as possible. Five minutes till midnight. You could barely hear one of the concerts playing down on the street over the cheering crowd which made you even more thankful for being on your own little rooftop with just Peter.
“This year’s gone by too fast,” you broke the silence between the two of you, your eyes still locked forward at the building ahead,“ but it’s actually been a pretty good one, I have to say.”
You heard Peter shift to sit up, his leg brushing against yours due to the proximity between the two of you,“ what’s been your favorite part of the year?”
“Um…That one’s difficult. A lot’s happened. We’re officially juniors meaning we only have one year left, I finally got a driver’s license and a job…” you pretended to think long and hard about his question despite already having the exact answer in mind,“ I think I’m gonna have to say…finding out my best friend is Spiderman! Yeah, that’s a good one.”
You smiled at the memory even if it had been a terrifying occurrence at the time. Anybody would likely freak out when hearing a loud crash outside their window with a bleeding Spiderman being the culprit. You had been about to screamed for your mom when the injured hero pushed himself up, weakly begging you not to draw attention to him. While Peter hadn’t ordinally meant for you to find out about his alter ago especially in that way, you had recognized his voice immediately, your fear turning to instant worry as you ushered him inside, almost crying when you saw just how deep the cuts were over his chest.
“I guess it was a good thing I decided to crash on your fire escape that night then,” Peter gave a small laugh, looking to the sky above. He remembered how bad he felt when seeing how scared you were that night, but at the same time, there had always been a selfish part of him that was happy to know someone like you cared so much about a loser like him,“…I think that was my favorite part, too.”
“Really?”
He nodded, fidgeting with his gloved fingers,“ to be honest, having you know took a lot of stress of my shoulders…It’s not that I don’t love being Spiderman and all, but ever since I got bit by that spider, I’ve just felt…alone in it. I had no one to turn to, not even Aunt May or Uncle Ben. I didn’t have anyone to talk to after a rough night or to tell me how I was doing… Then you found out. I finally had someone to share it all with, someone to tell me I was actually doing a good job, to say that they supported me…and someone to pull me back when I got too far… It felt relieving especially with it being you of all people. I knew that if you were saying that what I’m doing is right, then I has to be true.”
"I really am proud of you, Peter,” you rested your head against his shoulder, smiling when you felt his rest his head on yours, “and Ben would be, too, just so you know.”
“I know…Thank you for always being there, (Y/n).”
“And thank you for trusting me. It’s not a small task to know a hero’s true identity, so I’m honored that you let me know even if it was by accident,” you nudged him with your elbow, causing him to chuckle and wrap him arm around your waist, pulling you closer to himself.
“It was the best accident of my life.”
You noticed the screen below the Times Square Ball was at a less than a minute now with the object in question beginning to lower from its stand, people on the streets below count down in sync with its movements. Lifting your head from Peter’s shoulder, you watched eagerly as the timer got closer and closer to the moment everyone waited for, the crowd growing louder with each tick of the clock.
Ten!
Nine!
Eight!
Seven!
Six!
You felt Peter shift, but you paid little attention to action, figuring he was just getting more comfortable.
Five!
Four!
Three!
Two!
ONE!
The crowd erupted into the loudest cheers you heard all night, fireworks exploding in sky and confetti raining down on everyone. You barely had time to process the hand that reached for your cheek, gently moving your face to the side until your lips met with another which applied the smallest amount of pressure that still managed to make your heart do backflips. Just as you began to close your eyes and enjoy the kiss, Peter had pulled away, staring down at you with his mask pulled up only slightly over his nose, just enough to expose the lower part of his face.
“Happy New Year’s, (Y/n),” he gave you a nervous smile, a dark red in which matched his suit painting his cheeks. You smiled brighter than the city lights, wasting no time in catching his lips against yours once again. Your arms snaked around his neck, the two of you laughing between peppered kisses that showed no sign of ended anytime soon.
Best Part of the New Year: Peter Parker becoming your boyfriend.
OVERVIEW: As a descent of an infamous assassin family, it’s only natural that you’ve never failed to accomplish your goals. Armed with years of flawless experience forged from the hardships of your life, you’ve ultimately become both respected and feared by most of New York. With unmatched skills paired with undying loyalty, you’ve never once hesitated to eliminate anyone who’s made the terrible choice of standing in either you or your boss’s way…so why did you spare Spiderman?
NOTE:This story attempts to use neutral details and original storylines in order to fit any version of Spiderman so that you, the reader, may choose the variant that you wish to fill the role whether it be Andrew Garfield, Tom Holland, Tobey Maguire, or someone else if you really want.
WARNINGS:This story will eventually contain mature content including swearing, violence, gore, and themes of mental illness. Reader discretion is advised.
watching all these ig stans who’re getting aggy and INVASIVE on Tom’s new girl have big crackhead energy - news flash life isn’t a self-insert and if it was, you’d be the fans that fuck up the relationship
about.in which you find your lab partner in a strange place you’d never expect to find him in.
warnings.corny‼️
ricky rocks. short story 4 my best man because i didn’t want to think too hard into this
“you look like someone who could use some company.”
oh god, you sounded like a weirdo. or a hooker.
but despite that, he still looked and smiled at you, “look at you.” he almost grinned harder once he got a good look at you, taking notice that you weren’t exactly wearing the sweatshirt and sweatpants he always saw you in—but rather a very revealing top and a mini skirt. “didn’t take my lab partner for someone who liked to party.”
“i might say the same thing about you, parker,” you smiled back, taking a seat next to him on the ratty old frat couch he sat on. “when i thought of you getting your rocks off, i thought you’d be in an actual room with rocks.”
“wow, i’m offended,” he squinted at you putting a hand against his chest as if to cover his wounded heart, but he stilled smiled. “i would have hoped you thought higher of me, y/l/n.”
“i don’t intend on offending you, peter,” you smiled with amusement, “i just would have thought you were better than this.” you motioned and referenced to the frat house that you both currently sat in with all the buff dudes bumping their heads as they watched another identical guy chug a beer.
it made him scoff and his head slightly tipped, “but it’s normal for you to stoop this low?”
you shrugged, “we all have our moments of weakness… me more than anyone.”
“oh, so you’re saying this is a weekly occurrence for you?” he quirked an eyebrow, really wanting to know the answer.
and you almost didn’t want to answer, cringing as your head slightly fell sideways in shame, “maybe.”
“oh, on,” he shook his head, “cheap beer? men who don’t know basic hygiene and are probably failing their math 1 class? that’s your type, isn’t it? that’s why you come here, to get some play from boys with pedophile staches and low iqs?”
you laughed maybe a little too loudly, quickly slapping your hand over your mouth as you stared at peter who’s brow arched higher, but still he smiled, loving every moment of your presences.
“i don’t stoop that low.”
“oh, good. we still have time to save you,” he sat up now, clasping your elbow and scooting closer to you, “i almost thought i’d have no chance with you.”
“really?” your cheeks burned and you almost felt shameful for leaning closer to him as his voice was now a whisper and comforting and warm and ready to swallow you whole.
“yeah,” he nodded his head, “compared to those big burley guys who live off pre-workout, i’m nothing.”
you giggled again, feeling woozy and even more drunk with his amusement that was just feeding you to the brim with bliss. it felt out of body, it didn’t feel real, but it was and you felt like a fool falling so fast for someone you barely knew.
“they got nothing on you, peter parker.”
**
you were completely lost with time, but all you knew was he was a really good kisser and that’s all that mattered right then and there as the two of you stumbled into your dorm room where you were soon consumed in pitch black. neither of you could find care for it as you still clung to him feverishly, kissing him with all you could as if on a timer.
you couldn’t help but laugh once his mouth pulled from yours and started pressing kissed against your neck while the two of you still absent mindedly attempted to find your bed. you tried your best to guide but failed—causing the both of you to trip over your own feet and fall to the ground.
you giggled through the pain as you were now squished beneath peter’s body. he groaned, laughing a little himself but he still winced, pushing himself off and to the side of you, “well, we tried.”
“we did.” you smiled, not finding the attempt a complete failure due to now being a lot more familiar with your lab partner.
“i’d say i was hoping things would go a lot more smoother but…” he traveled off, now looking to the side of your face, “i’m not completely disappointed.”
summary: if there’s one thing Ellen is known for, it’s exposing secret relationships
a/n: this was written so quickly and not proof-read. also, i picked Ellen because if anyone would do this, it would be her lol
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July 2019
“So Y/N, are you currently dating anyone?” asks Ellen, taking a sip from her mug. You shake your head. “Not currently, no.” Ellen nods. “Well, please don’t worry anymore. We’re going to help you find someone in a little game we like to call Who’d You Rather?”
“Oh God,” you laugh, twisting slightly in your seat to glare at your manager for agreeing to this who laughed and poked her tongue out at you. “So all you need to do is look at the photos I show you and pick between these two options, alright?” “Okay, if you insist.” you roll your eyes, facing the large screen. “I do. So to start off, Timothee Chalamet or Dylan O'Brien?” “Oh, wow,” you laugh. “Starting off strong. Well, I was an absolute hoe for Maze Runner when it came out so I have to pick Dylan. Plus, I know Timothee better so it would be kinda awkward if I chose him.” The picture of Timothee fades away and is replaced by a new photo. “Dylan O'Brien or Harry Styles?” “Harry fucking Styles.” you say without hesitation and the audience cheers. Ellen nods. “Harry Styles or Florence Pugh?” You bury your head in your hands. “How could you ask me that, Ellen? That’s like asking someone to pick between cookie dough and mint chip ice cream! Impossible.” Ellen mimes tapping at her watch and tuts at you. “Time’s ticking, Y/N. Make your choice.” You sigh. “It’s absolutely Florence then. Sorry, Harry.” “Florence pugh or Chris Evans?” Ellen asks. “Flo.” Ellen’s eyes gleam as she quickly reads the next pair of names, rubbing her hands together in a comically evil fashion. “Florence Pugh or Tom Holland?” You slide down on your chair, laughing and covering your face with your hands. “Ellen!” you shriek. “I’ve just come off my second movie co-starring with Tom and he’s literally my best friend. You can’t ask me this!” Ellen grins. “Florence Pugh or Tom Holland?” she repeats. You pout at the camera. “Flo, I am so sorry. Please still be my friend. I pick Tom.” The crowd roars in approval and you wave a hand at them, laughing. “Shhhh, guys.” “Tom Holland or Jake Gyllenhaal?” asks Ellen. “Tom Holland.” “Tom Holland or Hailee Steinfeld?” “Tom Holland.” “Tom Holland or Niall Horan?” You hesitate, biting your lip as Tom’s frozen grin stares down at you from the photo. “I…fuck. Tom?” you say, almost as a question. “So it’s Tom?” Ellen grins. “Speak now or forever hold your peace.” You nod, sitting up straight and crossing your legs. “It’s Tom.” Ellen stares straight into the camera as an assistant signals an upcoming ad break. She rests one hand on your shoulder as she addresses the audience. “Tom Holland, you’d better act quickly. Y/N is currently sitting by her phone, waiting for your call. Don’t mess this up.”
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April 2021
You relax into the plush cushion of the chair on Ellen’s set once again. You are paying attention, sort of. You nod and laugh in all the right places, offering stories and jokes when needed but your mind is miles away. Ellen can pick up on this and she shifts in her seat. “Y/N.” she says, holding eye contact. “Can I have your phone please? Your eyes widen as you reach into the pocket of your oversized blazer, following her request and placing the unlocked device in Ellen’s waiting hand. "I wonder,” she says out loud, “who we can get to answer your call?” “Oh God,” you laugh, covering your face. “If no one picks up I’ll be so embarrassed.” “The Watermelon Man?” Ellen questions, reading off of the screen. “Shall we call the Watermelon Man, whoever that is?” You cover your face, laughing. “Jesus. If Harry Styles doesn’t pick up I think I’ll throw myself off a cliff.” The phone rings three times before a voice rings out from a noisy background. “Y/N! How are you?” laughs Harry. “This is a surprise, I have to admit.” “Harry!” you call out, before he can say anything else. “Ellen’s hijacked my phone and started ringing people, I’m so sorry.” “Oh, she has?” Harry asks mischievously. “I’ll make sure not to mention anything about our upcoming collaboration then…” he trails off and you can practically hear him winking through the phone as he hangs up. “That absolute fucker,” you laugh, rolling your eyes at his spoiler as Ellen is already scrolling through your contacts list again. “Oh!” she exclaims, eyes bright. “Y/N, I thought you told us you weren’t dating anyone? May I ask who ‘My Darling ’ is?” You freeze on the spot, mouth drying out as you blink at Ellen, desperately trying to jump start your brain into snatching the phone back. You glance over at your manager who is sat stock still, just as shocked as you are. The phone rings five times and you breathe a sigh of relief. It’s 3AM in London right now, he’s not going to pick up. Just as you’ve collected your heart off of the floor and smoothed your hair down, ready to make a self deprecating joke about this mystery person not picking up, there’s a pause and the a collective gasp from the audience as the phone connects. “Hello my love, is everything alright?” asks Tom in his groggy, raspy morning voice. Ellen’s jaw hits the floor so quickly you’re shocked it doesn’t fall off entirely.
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tysm for reading! reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3
Warnings: none! wait I may have sworn once. and there’s a mini fight but zero descriptions of anything
Notes: Whole lotta filler because I have big plans for the next chapter. Sorry this took so long, was super busy again this week and just wasn’t feeling the writing thing at first. As always, though, I hope you enjoy and please be sure to leave me any thoughts/comments/questions/etc.!! Thank you all for reading :)
Summary: Ned informs Peter of just how whipped he is, but he panics as Harry comes back into the picture. Lucky for you, Tony and Pepper are there to save the day with some relationship advice.
The cafeteria slowly filled with students arriving from their classes. The lunch line grew longer and longer, but Ned and Peter were lucky to get out of class early and be some of the first in line. Ned looked around manically as he and Peter plopped down at their usual table, relieved when he didn’t see you and MJ yet.
“Peter, I have to tell you something that happened at the dance after you left.”
“What, people danced? You guys said it was boring.”
“It was,” he snorted, rolling his eyes. “But Y/N said something before she followed you.”
“Oh yeah, and weren’t you supposed to keep her there? And not let her follow me?”
“Ok, ok, sure. But you’re going to freak when you find out why I let her go!”
“Out with it, Ned! No need to make this suspenseful.”
“Oh, like you guys aren’t weird and secretive already. Listen, she was trying to get me to let her go and I kept saying no and she was so worried about you getting hurt. She had this look in her eyes and was so insanely concerned, so I asked her straight up if she liked you. She—”
“Youwhat?”
“She acted all confused and stutter-y at first, but I just knew it was fake. So, I told her that you’d be relieved to find out she liked you, too.”
“TOO?”
“Uh, yeah? But she literally inflated in front of my eyes. She—”
“Ned, oh my gosh.”
“It’s like I’m your love life guy in the chair!”
“Ned! I have to tell you something about that night too. About the battle and stuff.” Ned leaned in as if about to hear an age-old story about his great ancestors. “First of all, when she found me, she was shaking and literally crashed into me with a hug. And then when I was having to go keep fighting, she was so worried because I almost got crushed by a building—"
“ABUILDING?”
“Yeah? I got out. Anyway, she was nearly crying with worry and I wiped a few of her tears away. And just held her and she held my hand. And then later when she blacked out—”
“SheBLACKED OUT?”
“NED! Quiet! She blacked out because she was falling out of the sky as dead weight because the Vulture inactivated her suit somehow. And when she fell…I felt so much pain. I thought I lost her again…I couldn’t breathe,” he whispered, reflecting on the struggle that night on the beach. “When I felt her pulse, I could breathe again and I didn’t want to let go. But she was still worried about me.”
“Woah. How’d you leave it?”
“OH! So, the next day? Ned. I told her I wish I had taken her to homecoming. Technically she heard me say it under my breath, but whatever. You know what she did? She kissed my cheek. I couldn’t move. I’m so lame…freaking out about a hug basically…”
“Dude. You are SO whipped.” “Who’s whipped?” You and MJ tossed your lunches onto the table next to the boys, more interested in teasing them than you were in their gossip.
“Peter is!” Ned blurted before Peter kicked him underneath the table.
“Oh,” you muttered, visibly sinking in your seat. Peter’s own face dropped as you stared down at your food, poking around with disinterest.
“For who?”
“A…a girl,” Peter answered, not wanting to give an honest answer to MJ’s question but definitely noting your reaction.
“Good to know. But, you know, if it was a boy, like Ned, you could tell us those things. That’s what friends are for,” MJ said, lips curling up in a smirk. Peter tried to argue but Harry walked up to the group and cut him off.
He sat down next to you, resting his arm around your shoulders as he started talking. “So you’re Tony Stark’s daughter?”
“Adopted, but…yeah,” you responded, tensing under his wing. After the press conference, the whole school obviously found out about your identity. Flash lost his mind and blew up your phone – no surprise there – but so far school had otherwise been normal. A few questions, lots of stares, and a few more people willing to talk to you. Nothing that mattered to you, though.
“Right, right. But that’s
where you had to go Saturday night? Because you were fighting a huge battle and saving the city?”
“I…I guess?”
“Ok. That’s pretty amazing. I forgive you.”
“Forgive me?”
“Yeah! It hurt when you left but I totally understand it all now,” Harry explained, offering a sweet smile as you and your friends stared blankly back at him. “So, since our first date got screwed up, I was wondering if you’d like to try again sometime? Maybe…Friday night?”
You blinked hard and your eyebrows furrowed as you processed what he said. “Date?”
“Yeah! You know, like I’ll come pick you up and we could grab dinner.”
“I…uh…I,” you sputtered, looking to your friends like a silent plea for help. MJ had little reaction to the conversation, especially in comparison to Ned and Peter. Ned looked as if he had just watched his favorite Star Wars character die and Peter watched with concerned eyebrows over glossy puppy-dog eyes. Peter’s expression didn’t waver as you held his gaze, a whirlwind of moments returning to your mind. You flashed back to meeting Peter for the first time, to thinking he hated you, to when he hugged you for the first time as you left his apartment after studying all day together. You thought about the gala and about watching Star Wars afterward and falling asleep on his shoulder; about him trusting you during the fight in Germany. You remembered him being there you when you felt most alone and about waking up in his arms, warm and happy and safe. You felt the heat from the fires as you thought of the fear you felt for each other in the fight against the Vulture on the beach, and the honest conversation you had the next morning. Peter was…Peter.Harry…wasn’t. “So? Whaddaya say?” Harry asked again, poking your shoulder. “Pick you up at seven?”
You blinked, forcing yourself out of your distracted trance and back to the conversation at hand. “I…I have to ask.”
“Ask what? Who?”
“I have to ask…Tony. And Pepper. I…I don’t know if they have rules about this or if I have training then or something.”
“Huh. I mean, seems a little weird that you’d have to ask for permission, but ok. Just…text me when you know, I guess.”
He walked off shaking his head, his friends instantly surrounding him and asking him what you said. They looked back at you, eyebrows pressed together in simultaneous confusion and judgement. At your table, everyone returned to eating, though this time in uncomfortable silence. Peter watched you stare at your tray, pushing food around your tray without taking a bite. Though he hadn’t wanted you to say yes, seeing you weighed down by an internal struggle didn’t make him feel any better.
None of your classes the rest of the day could pull your attention away from the thoughts and emotions swirling within you. Putting the feelings going through your head into words and saying them out loud was even scarier than the thought of having to reject someone to their face. Either way, you were going to have to be vulnerable to someone, and that sounded terrifying.
You quietly sat through your remaining lectures with your head buried in your notes as your friends looked on. They could all tell you were uncomfortable – it wasn’t hard to see – but Ned and MJ didn’t understand it like Peter. He eyed you sitting in front of him in one class, his own memories returning to all the times you spent together. Most recently, he felt your hand on his shoulder and lips on his cheek from just days earlier, a moment he clung to for hope that you might like him half as much as he liked you.
As the last bell finally rang, you nearly sprinted off campus and into Happy’s car. Knowing you wouldn’t be able to figure this out alone, you texted Tony and Pepper for back-up. Hoping you had finally come to your senses, they scurried to the common area to meet you as you arrived, and the three of you sat down at the table together to talk.
“I don’t know how I got here,” you explained after telling them just about everything. You left out a few details you weren’t sure about, including Peter’s name. The last thing you needed was Tony running around the compound screaming that he was a teenage matchmaker. “I didn’t know anyone my age a few weeks ago, and now I’m the stupid girl stuck between two boys.”
“No, you’re the smartgirlstupidly stuck between two boys.” You quirked a brow at Tony’s clarification and he explained further. “You’re smart, but the answer here is obvious. Right? I mean, Pe—”
Pepper elbowed him harshly and he shut up. “I know it’s a hard thing you’re going through. As scary as it is, I think you need to talk to the boy you like. Especially if you know you like him better than Harry.”
“How do I bring that up? And not run away?”
“You see him all the time. He practically lives here—”
“Tony!”
“He does!”
“You…you know?” Your voice squeaked with bubbling embarrassment. Pepper and Tony looked to each other, pushing down laughter and instead settling for teasing smiles as they faced you again.
“You weren’t exactly great at hiding it, sweetheart,” Pepper teased, “but don’t worry. Peter is even more obvious, I promise.”
“He won’t stop talking about you! We go down to the lab to work and he’s all ‘Mr. Stark, Mr. Stark! Y/N did this, Y/N is so great, Y/N Y/N Y/N.”
“Oh my gosh—”
“In all seriousness, though, you should just talk to him, kiddo,” Tony tapped your hands that you now pressed against your hot face.
“Hey Mr. Stark—oh.” Peter stood at the top of the stairs leading into the common area, backpack draped over his suit and mask clenched in one hand at his side. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Actually, great timing, Pete! We were just—”
“—Just about to go down to the lab, right?” Pepper jumped in to cover for you. “You were telling me about working on the new suit.”
Tony rolled his eyes at Pepper but grinned as he looked back to you and Peter. “I suppose I was. Let’s go to work.”
Down in the lab, Tony had FRIDAY wheel out the Iron Spider suit. Though he had seen it before, Peter couldn’t help but stare at it in awe. And he didn’t even know the best part.
“Wanna do the honors?” Tony prompted you, a hand on your shoulder as Peter continued to marvel at the suit. You walked up to it and smiled back at the two boys before reaching up to press the spider on the suit’s chest. It immediately retracted into the right web shooter, which fell into Dum-E’s grasp stretched out below. You picked it up and tossed it to Peter, who was still zoned out but thankfully returned to earth as his spidey senses alerted him to the object lobbed toward his face. He looked back at you and Tony, still silent, and Tony nodded with encouragement to try it on.
The web shooters fit as well as they always had and molded quickly to his wrist. Like on your suit, he then pressed the inside of the web shooter where he’d take his pulse and the suit started snapping on to his body, expanding all from that web shooter. Lastly, it covered his dropped jaw and the eyes expanded to mirror his.
“This is…woah.”
Tony explained a few of the new tricks but it was you who suggested he learn about its hidden feature. Because it was activated with neural impulses, you told Peter to think about having an extra set of hands to help. Or legs, you joked, snickering at Tony despite Peter not getting the joke.
It took him a second being the first time, but the legs suddenly snapped out and expanded just like the rest of the suit had. The four legs hovered behind Peter to wait for another neural impulse to direct them, but Peter once again found himself in complete awe.
“What are these?”
“Legs.”
“No, but like…what arethey?”
“They’re literally extra legs. They can fight and move you around or help you climb walls or whatever your heart desires,” you rambled, shoulders tensing as you realized what you said. Peter just nodded, however, too caught up in the new legs sprawling out from his back. Testing it out for a few minutes turned into trying some challenge maneuvers. Whereas last time you tested a new suit in the lab with Peter you were just tossing kickballs up into the air, this time you tossed the balls into the air for him to retrieve while some of Tony’s older suits tried to knock him down.
Wanting to get more comfortable in your own suit, you pressed down the bracelets on your wrist. The nanotech suit quickly spread over your own body until the mask clicked on to your face, lighting up the eyes and arc reactor. Tony took over tossing kickballs while you lifted into the air, surprising Peter by flying toward him while he dodged a punch from another suit. The legs pushed him off the wall and he somersaulted in the air before landing in his classic spidey stance. You landed opposite him in Tony’s classic stance, fist punching down into the ground in a lunge.
Both of your masks recoiled from your faces and the two of you stood up, moving to talk to Tony to decide what to test next. On the lab bench, your phone rang – which was weird given that the two people that normally called you were in the lab with you – and you left the conversation to answer it.
“Oh, hi Harry,” you answered as you pressed the phone to your ear, gesturing toward the door and stepping out while your suit compressed itself. Peter watched you step out of the room, eyes following you even as you paced in the hallway on the other side of the glass wall. His shoulders drooped and Tony put his arm around Peter, steering him away from the glass.
“Still pining, huh?”
Peter stopped walking and sighed; Tony stood in front of him with a quirked brow. “She likes someone else. He asked her on a date today and she’s talking to him right now. I can’t get between them.”
“She told me what happened. Trust me, though – there’s nothing to get between.”
“How do you know?” Peter shrugged, thinking back to what Ned said. “I mean, my friend thinks she likes me, and we’ve gotten really, really close but I just…I don’t know for sure.”
“Do you remember when I came to meet you for the first time in your apartment and – being the total dweeb that you are – you told me you couldn’t go to Germany because you had homework?”
“Yes…”
“And then do you remember how you trusted me and trusted your Spider-Man powers and took a leap to fight the Avengers?”
“Yes, but it’s different—”
“But it’s not. It’s a quick bit of courage and then common sense takes care of the rest. You have to trust what you’re feeling. What are you feeling?”
“Ifeel like I really like her. A lot. Every time—”
“NOPE. I don’t need details. You two are happy when you’re together and I trust you, so that’s enough for me. Like I told her about you, just talk. To each other.”
The glass door swung back open behind them and you walked in still tapping on your phone.
“Wait, Mr. Stark, you talked to her about me?”
“Justtalk, ok?” He whipped around to you. “Anything crazy?”
“Nothing, thankfully.”
You tossed yourself onto a stool at the lab bench where you were working as Peter suited back up, asking Tony to run a few more practice trials. Tony had to repeatedly slow him down as he ran through drill after drill until the motions were nearly mastered. Tony groaned every time Peter asked for a re-do while you watched from the side and chuckled, the noise they made thoroughly distracting you from the homework in front of you.
From across the room, Tony met your gaze and raised his eyebrows, a silent inquiry into what you said on the phone call. “I turned him down,” you mouthed quietly back, and Tony smiled warmly and winked before returning his attention to Peter. You looked to Peter, too, amazed by how effortlessly he used the extensions of the suit despite just using them for the first time.
Though Peter didn’t bring it up at school that week, he constantly thought about Tony’s advice. That said, you didn’t bring it up, either, and had all the same chances to do so. Peter’s skin crawled whenever Harry tried to talk to you throughout the week, but what he didn’t know was that you didn’t like it, either.
Finally, that Friday afternoon, Peter swung around the city on patrol when he spotted a bank robbery. Climbing in through the vents until he hung from the ceiling to scout it out, he counted 12 armed thieves. Even with his new high-tech suit, he decided, this was more than he should take on alone for a casual patrol night. He didn’t want to call Tony, though, and sound any more like a baby Avenger than he knew he already did. So, he called you.
Seeing Peter’s name pop up on your phone wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. He called while swinging around the city on occasion and you loved talking to him, so you never turned down one of his calls.
“Y/N? Can you hear me?”
“Yeah, Pete…why are you whispering?”
“I’m in a bit of a sticky situation and am wondering if I can request backup?”
“You shoot web fluid, Pete. You’re always in a sticky situation.”
“Ok, yeah. Puns aside, I really do need help, please!”
“What’s up?”
“I’m currently on the ceiling of the Queens County Savings Bank on 188th and there are 12 people with guns. I could do it…of course…but just want to be safe, you know…”
“Peter Parker! That is too many! I’m flying over now; don’t you dare move a muscle.”
“Thanks,May.”
“Shut up, dumbass. Don’t hang up.” The robbers cracked into the safe in the back, starting to pull out wad after wad of cash while the alarm blared throughout the strip mall. “Ok, I’m here!”
Peter had no idea how you flew so fast but shot out webs at two of the weapons as you flew through the shattered glass at the front of the store, knocking out their two guards on your way in. Peter webbed the two weapons to the wall before slingshotting himself toward the now-unarmed men, simultaneously punching both with knock-out blows. Behind him, you armed your repulsors, hitting thief after thief as they tried to run away. Focused on nabbing weapons, Peter didn’t see as one of the remaining robbers pointed his gun right at him. Alerted by FRIDAY to his danger, you jumped in between the gunman and Peter and activated your shield. It shot out in all directions to protect you both as bullets rained down. Now aware of the attacker, Peter hopped over the shield and yanked the weapon into the air before slamming it down on the robber’s head. Five people remained now, and you looked at Peter for half a second as if to agree on a plan before finishing the job. While FRIDAY called the police, you worked to corner the stragglers so that Peter could web them up.
The sun set slowly on the horizon as you walked out of the bank casually with Peter, both of you still in your suits. You were shoulder to shoulder, occasionally bumping together even though you blamed it on the shoulders of your iron suit being wider than what you were used to. Sirens of police cars wailed as they approached the bank but even that didn’t overshadow the much-needed conversation hanging in the air.
“Hey, Pete?”
The hesitation in your voice brought ice to his veins. “Yeah?”
“Are…are you done with patrols for the night?”
“Oh!” A small part of him sank with relief, though most of him wished the conversation would just happen so he could get the admitting part over with. “Uh, I haven’t decided. I haven’t sensed any more crime nearby but normally just swing around for a bit.”
“Oh, ok.”
“Why?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Aw, come on!” He nudged his shoulder into you as the two of you walked further from the bank. “What is it?”
“Well, I was going to ask…if you’re done for the night, we could go watch a movie at the compound if you want,” you spit out. “We could actually watch the next Star Wars without me falling asleep…or something.”
“Oh! Yeah, let’s do it!”
“Are you sure? You don’t need to patrol?”
He thought about the times when he turned Ned down to hang out because of patrols and other Spider-Man duties, feeling bad about turning down his friend. He couldn’t imagine saying no to spending time with you, though. “Y-yeah! I haven’t had a night off this week and we haven’t hung out in a while, either.”
“We fought together all last weekend, spent the whole week together at school, and you were at the compound a ton playing with the iron spider suit. We were together most of the week, Pete.”
“Oh. Well, yeah. But when’s the last time we hung out not as superheroes or future genius students?”
“Was it when I screamed at you a lot while we played Mario Kart and then fell asleep on you?” Your shoulders caved forward as you thought to what had happened next. “And then woke up to the Accords…”
Your eyes darted down to the ground and Peter followed, remembering how tough that had been on you. He also knew you were still concerned about Steve and the others having not yet returned; you missed your training buddy.
“Hey,” he offered, casually setting his arm around your still-iron shoulders. “It’s not like that’s going to happen every time we hang out.”
“I know,” you snorted, straightening back up and shouldering him teasingly.
“But you thought about it! Now I think I have to come over so you don’t associate me with horrible things happening.”
With your iron suit being a much faster way to travel, you lifted into the air with a smile while Peter shot a web to your suit to fly in your wake.
You touched down on the lawn of the compound, Peter landing nearby with a somersault. Both of you pressed your chests – the arc reactor for you and spider for Peter – and your suits retracted as you got inside and headed toward the common room.
Tony, standing in the kitchen, saw the two of you approach and bolted out before he could be seen, for once not wanting to intervene. You plopped down the couch and asked FRIDAY to pull up the next Star Wars movie. As the intro rolled up the screen, the couch buzzed and you pulled your phone out of your pocket.
Harry: What’s up?
You sighed, not wanting to reply but also not wanting to be rude.
You: Watching a movie at home!
You slid the phone away, hoping the message wasn’t cold but also that it wasn’t warm enough that he wouldn’t keep replying. Sure enough, the phone buzzed again almost immediately. The message didn’t go unnoticed by Peter, of course, who turned to see the phone screen illuminating a frown creasing your face. You quickly shoved the phone away without replying, but it was only seconds later that the phone buzzed repeatedly to indicate an incoming call.
Peter paused the movie, peering over at you rolling your eyes and groaning at the screen once again. Even from where he sat across the couch, Peter could see that the screen had Harry’s name on it. He didn’t know what to make of it – you seemed annoyed, but then again, it was the boy you had gone to homecoming with. For the beginning, at least.
You pressed your phone back into the couch and looked back up at the screen only to see it was paused. The phone kept buzzing on the seat next to you, now face down. You wanted nothing more than for it to stop so you could get on with the movie.
“Aren’t you going to answer it?”
“No.”
“You…you don’t want to talk to him?” Peter couldn’t resist the urge to ask. “Isn’t he…isn’t he your boyfriend?”
Almost laughing in his face, you whirled to face Peter. “NO. Noooooo. Definitely, definitely not.” The corners of Peter’s lips ticked up and he narrowed his eyes, inviting an explanation. “I turned him down for that date and he still keeps calling me and asking me to hang out.”
“I’d offer to beat him up for you, but I think you could hold your own.”
A smile finally graced your lips as you chuckled at the thought. “He just won’t leave me alone. He was nice and all but just not…I don’t like him like that.”
“Hmm. It might be good practice to be turning him down, though.” You quirked a brow. “I mean, you’ve always been great, but now you’ve been announced as an Avenger-in-training? Now every guy is going to see your face and you’ll have to turn everyone down.”
A laugh escaped your throat and you let your head fall forward into your hands. Peter beamed at you, the tension finally leaving your body for the first time all week.
“Come on, you can’t try and tell me you haven’t had a lot of guys asking you out!”
You bit your lip and giggled again before turning to him. “I mean, a little, but I don’t want it.”
“How come?”
“Uh, I…I guess…I guess I already like someone?” Peter’s morale sunk initially, but he looked up to see her staring and quickly turning away when they made eye contact. “What about you and…Liz? Are you guys, you know…together?”
“No, not at all. I don’t think we’ve talked outside decathlon practice.” He inhaled deeply, carefully choosing his next words. “The girl I actually wanted to ask to the dance had already been asked.”
You sat back against the couch in thought as silence fell between the two of you. Peter and you both thought back to the conversation you had over the weekend about homecoming: him telling you you would’ve had a good time if he took you, and you admitting you wished he had taken you. Peter remembered the light in your eyes; you remembered the way his breath caught when you kissed his cheek. Both of you reveled in the memory but tried to contain the bit of hope flaring inside you that you were the one he actually wanted to ask and that he was the someone else you liked.
With both of you still deep in thought and not ready to share any more, Peter pressed play on the movie. After it ended, it was still light out, and you found yourself once again playing video games and board games and even just talking about anything and everything. You talked about the world, about school, about the things you wanted in life, about your greatest fears, about your dream careers, and the kind of people you each aspired to be.
Tony, being the wingman that he is, kept other Avengers out of the common area so the two of you would have your moment. With that being the case, you completely lost track of time until Peter’s phone rang three times in a row, finally getting through the do not disturb mode both of you had intentionally but discreetly activated on your phones.
“Oh my god. Y/N, it’s 10:30.”
“No way.”
“Yes! Hang on,” he said, answering the phone and holding it up to his ear. “Hi…hi May.”
You could hear May loudly shouting into the phone as he hadn’t been answering her texts. He pulled the phone away from his ear and you snickered.
“I…I know, May. I’m sorry. I’ve been with Y/N.”
The shouting on the other end of the phone stopped and she muttered only a few more words before Peter ended the call.
“I hope you don’t mind me namedropping. May loves you.”
“I’m honored. Tony loves you, so I get it!”
“Sadly, she still wants me to go home, though.”
“Oh. Well, thanks for hanging out with me tonight, Pete. I had a lot of fun.”
“No, thank you for inviting me over,” he said, standing up to go. You walked together over to the stairs and he turned back to you. “And thank you for helping me out at the bank today.”
“Of course, Pete. I’ll always be your backup.”
“You’ve never been the backup, Y/N.”
With a deep breath, he turned and walked down the stairs, even turning to look back up at you when he reached the bottom. You stayed at the top of the stairs for a moment even after he left, thinking back over his words until another voice pulled you out of your head.
“You tell him?” Tony stood in the kitchen again, having likely come in from the side hallway behind you.
“No,” you groaned, walking over to the kitchen counter and collapsing your forehead on your arms. “Almost. But no.”
“Hey, that’s ok,” Tony muttered, walking around the counter to put his hand on your shoulder. “Pep and I aren’t trying to push you into anything. We just see the way you two take care of each other and how happy you are together. No pressure.”
“I know. Thank you, dad.”
“Now, get to bed or else I’ll have to ground you.” Your eyebrows shot up and your forehead wrinkled. “Just kidding. But really, go to bed, kiddo.”
He gave you a quick hug and kissed your forehead before you meandered to your room. After getting changed into pajamas, you nearly fell into your bed, phone in hand. It buzzed while you were turning on your alarm for the morning.
Peter: Wanted to reiterate: you aren’t backup. You’re first choice, always. Good night, Y/N ❤️
You: “First choice, always” is probably the cutest thing I’ve ever read…lol you’re making me flustered and you aren’t even here. Sleep tight, spidey ❤️
A/N: This is sad, but that’s okay. There is character death and also a car accident. There will be a part two, named AFTER, coming out very shortly.
“When you can do the things that I can and you don’t and then the bad things happen, they happen because of you”
That quote was Peter’s answer when Tony had asked him why he was Spider-Man. He knew that he could use his power to do a multitude of things, but he had decided to use it to help people, to protect his community, to be a hero.
But what was the point now? What was the point of any of this if he couldn’t save you?
Every time he closed his eyes he was back in that car. The two of you were on your way to celebrate your two year anniversary. You were talking about your plans for college and your graduation that was right around the corner. Peter had been planning everything out about this night for weeks. He was nervous that he had gone slightly overboard, but Mr. Stark and Pepper assured him that it was going to be perfect.
He looked over at you as you were singing along to one of your favorite songs on the radio. His chest filled with adoration and eased any nerves that he had. He was about to continue the conversation when his spidey senses went off. He quickly looked for the source of danger but was cut off as a car collided with your own on the driver’s side.
The next thing he remembered was the smell. He couldn’t tell what it was exactly, maybe the car’s fuel, maybe the airbags. Then the pain. He reached up to feel the side of his head which was covered in blood. He seemed to be pinned to the seat. He was extremely disoriented and found it hard to focus. That was at least until the panic set in. He remembered where he was and who he was with. He looked over and realized that you weren’t in the car.
He struggled through the previously unrealized pain in his shoulder to reach his phone. He called the one person who could help him, the person who had always been there to help him.
“Hello Pete, how’s the big date going? Give her the ring yet?”
“T-Tony-”
“Peter what’s wrong? Where are you?” he cut him off already summoning one of his suits.
“We were- there was a car- and I-” Peter tried but he was freaking out.
“Friday track Peter’s location and notify 911” Tony said to his AI.
“Peter, it’s okay I’m on my way, are you hurt?”
“I’ll b-be fine. No-nothing worse than I’ve dealt w-with before,” he answered.
“And how’s Y/n?”
“I-I don’t know. She’s n-not in the car and I can’t g-get out,” he replied as his breathing started to get faster.
“It’s okay Pete, just try to calm down. I’m almost there and help is on the way,” Tony reassured.
“Thanks, Mr. Stark,” Peter breathed,
True to his word, Tony touched down moments later. Seeing the state off the two cars he was surprised that anyone was going to be walking away from the accident. He quickly went to where Peter was and started to get him out of the car.
“No, go find Y/n first. I’ll be fine. Just go help her.” he pleaded.
Tony moved around to where you were laying on the ground. He immediately knelt down and had Friday scan your vitals. You were seemingly unconscious with a large piece of glass sticking out of your chest and blood from where your head met the cement. Friday’s scan showed that you had multiple broken bones and were in critical condition with almost no chance of survival. Tony knew that he couldn’t risk moving you, especially since he had no way to stabilize you. He also knew that while help was coming, that it wouldn’t get there in time. Silent tears fell from his eyes as he returned to Peter.
“How is she? She’s okay right?” Peter asked hopefully.
“Kid- she,” Tony started.
Peter didn’t even need to see his face to know. That tone is the same tone every adult used when they told him devastating news. It was the tone from when his parents died. The tone from when his uncle was murdered.
“No, she has to be okay, she-” he started crying.
“Pete, she’s not-, I need to get you out of here so you can say goodbye,” Tony tried, his own emotion taking over.
He used the strength of his suit to pull the door off of the mutilated car. He then carefully readjusted Peter’s seat to free him. He had Friday do a scan to see the severity of his injuries. Besides the shoulder and concussion, he had bruised ribs and was experiencing multiple symptoms of shock. Tony helped him out and supported most of his weight as he led him to you.
Peter immediately sunk down and was debating the best way to hold you. He wanted more than anything to pull you into his arms, but he was so afraid of making things worse. Tears were gliding down his cheeks as took your hand in his and called your name. Despite how much he wanted you to be okay, somewhere deep down he knew Tony was right. This was it. He was drawn out of his thoughts as he heard your quiet voice.
“P-Peter?”
“Hey, I’m right here,” he said as he leaned over you so you could see his face.
“What happened?” you asked struggling through your thoughts.
“We were in a car accident, but it’s okay help is on the way,”
“Peter, you’re bleeding,” you say taking in his appearance. You made the mistake of trying to sit up and grimaced in pain.
“Easy Y/n, just try to lie still,” he all but whispered.
“I’m so sorry,” you said as tears escaped your eyes.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,”
“I ruined our date,” you tried
“What? This? This is still not the worst date I’ve been on,” he tried to joke.
You smiled. God he loved that smile. He wanted to spend the rest of his life making you smile. This was so unfair. Why? Why did this have to happen to you? Why now?
“Peter, what’s wrong?”
But even as the words left your mouth, you knew. You knew that you weren’t going to be okay. That this was how it would end. And, you realized that Peter most know this too. You didn’t want to go, you didn’t want to leave him. It was supposed to be the two of you against the world. You were supposed to graduate together, and go to college, and get married, and have kids, and make the world a better place. There was so much that you were supposed to do. But none of that mattered now did it? You braced yourself and decided to make the most of the few minutes you may have left.
“I love you so much, Peter Parker,” you started.
“Y/n, please don’t,” he cried.
“Pete, you are the bravest, kindest, person I know. You’ll be okay. It’ll take time but-”
“Stop it!”
“It’s okay Peter,”
“No, it’s not, I can’t lose you too,” he cried.
You were at a loss for words. The excruciating pain you once felt was numbing. You knew that you were running out of time.
“Peter, tell me you love me,”
“I do, I-I love you so-so much,” he sobbed.
“Promise- Promise me- you’ll move on. That you’ll be happy,”
“Y/n I-”
“Promise, that you won’t shut down. You have so many people who love you. Let them help you,” you struggled as it became harder and harder to breath, unconsciousness - no, death- was creeping in.
“I promise,” he replied.
“Good,” you whispered eyes closing and chest falling for the last time.
“Y/n? Y/n wake up. Come on I don’t want to do this with out you. Just-just stay with me. Help is coming. I-I love you. I love you so much.” Peter cried pulling your lifeless body off of the ground and craddling you in his arms.
Tony, who had returned from helping the people in the other car, minimized his suit and went over to Peter. He honestly didn’t know what to do, his heart broke for the kid. He gently went to his side putting his hand on Peter’s shoulder.
“She’s gone,” he whispered.
“I know Pete,” he said sadly.
“We should really get you back to the tower, to the med-bay, I can have Happy go pick up your aunt.”
“I don’t want to leave her.”
“The paramedics are here, they’re going to take her.”
Peter looked up for the first time since it had happened. The road was now blocked off. The police and ambulances were here. People were trying to see what had happened. He knew Tony was right. It was time for him to leave. So he hugged you one last time placed a kiss on your head and laid you down on the ground, pausing to close your eyes. He took once last glance before allowing Tony to guide him away.
ok i caved. i think i’m gonna start writing some fics again. i have this one series planned for sirius and a couple of cute shorts for peter. let’s see if this works. requests are open if anyone wants something specific. love y’all
Summary: Peter brings a lab coat home one day. It gives you an idea. How could you pass up a chance to drive him wild?
Warnings: afab!reader, oral (fem receiving), lots of bad chemistry puns, penetrative unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), did I say bad chemistry puns already? This went from smut to fluff to humor at the end.
“Welcome home Mr. Parker,” You said upon your fiancé entering the apartment you and him shared. He put down his bag (full of papers) and gave you that small, forced smile that instantly told you it had been a long day.
“Long Friday?” You asked, taking your attention away from the stove.
“Oh you know, the usual. Did you know you can say to your students “this material is corrosive; it will burn through fabric’ ten times and they’re still shocked when it burns a hole through their lab coat?” He held up the lab coat, which had a small but noticeable hole in it.
“I’m sorry babe.“
“It’ll be an easy fix. Besides, I should start washing these regularly. I forgot how bad teenage B.O. is,” He said, throwing it over the chair. He walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.
“Whatcha making sunshine?” He asked, his breath hot on your neck.
“Just some salmon cakes.” This was your routine- Peter would come home and wrap his arms around you, whether you were watching TV or cooking dinner.
“I missed you,” He murmured into your neck.
“I missed you too my love,” You said, flipping the salmon cakes so one side wasn’t burned.
Your eyes darted to the table, landing on the lab coat.
An idea popped into your head.
A different idea. A spicy idea. An idea that made you inadvertently squeeze your thighs together.
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: After ten years of not seeing Peter Parker, the two of you are reunited at Felicia Hardy’s charity event, and you both discover that much has changed.
Warnings: lil bit of angst, swearing, fluff, mentions of character death
Words: 1992
Disclaimer: This gif doesn’t belong to me!
A/N: I told myself I wouldn’t wouldn’t write a sequel to All Too Well, but I folded against peer pressure so here you guys go! I hope you all enjoy it as much as the first part, and please let me know what you think, I love you all! xxx
You pulled your coat tighter around your body as you trailed behind your parents at a snail’s pace, reluctant to be here. You hadn’t gone with your mom and dad to the church service because you felt that it would have been inappropriate under previous circumstances. However, your mom and dad had convinced you to go to the churchyard with them.
That was where you saw him, his cheeks were red from the chilling wind and there were tear streaks on his cheeks. You guessed that Peter had been out here for a while. You bit your lip as you watched him with his Aunt, and you longed to share your condolences with Peter but he wouldn’t want to hear it from you.
“I think you should go and say something, Y/N,” your mom nudged her arm against yours and you glanced at her with a sigh.
“We’re not friends anymore, mom, come on. Let’s go,” you glanced at Peter one more time before you turned and walked away.
It felt like you were walking away from Peter Parker forever, but that was what you wanted wasn’t it? You once told Peter that you never wanted to see him or Spider-Man ever again.
10 Years Later…
You fidgeted with your red floor length dress as you walked into the huge roof top bar where the Hardy’s were holding their charity function.
“Right, we put in an appearance to be polite and then we’re out of here,” your dad groaned as he rubbed his temples.
You rolled your eyes, your parents thought that the Hardy’s were snobby and entitled but you liked them well enough, especially Felicia. Speaking of Felicia, the beautiful blonde woman came sauntering towards you in one of her usual slinky black dresses and diamonds around her neck.
“Y/N!” she grinned as she greeted you with a flute of sparkling pink champagne, which was very on-brand of her, “how are you?” you smiled as you took the champagne.
“I’m good thank you, how are you?”
She shrugged as you walked to the balcony which had an amazing view of the city below, “these parties are exhausting but it’s for a good cause so I can cope with them,” she grinned as she took a sip of her champagne.
You laughed as you leaned your hip against the balcony railing, you wouldn’t mind having a huge party nearly every weekend, “you always say that, but out of everyone you always seem to have the best time.”
Felicia smirked at your words, “true, at least I didn’t have to organise it this time, Jameson from The Daily Bugle organised it, he’s got one of his photographers to document it. In fact, here’s Jameson’s photographer now.”
Your mouth went dry as you stared at the tall handsome man who was making his way outside, he wore that black suit so well, like he was made for it. With his artfully tousled hair and his bright brown eyes, he looked like an absolute dream. Over the past ten years he had only seemed to grow more handsome.
Felicia smirked at him as he walked closer to the pair of you and she gestured between you and Peter, “Parker, this is…” she trailed off when she noticed Peter staring at you with polite shock etched on his face.
“Y/N.”
“Hi, Peter,” you smiled as you took a huge gulp of your champagne.
“You guys know each other?” Felicia asked as she looked between the two of you and raised an eyebrow.
Peter nodded, running a hand through his hair, “we went to high school together.”
“Well, well,” Felicia smirked, “I’ll leave you two to catch up, I’m gonna go and see where Flash has got to,” she waved at the both of you before she walked back into the party.
Peter smiled at you, “hey.”
“Hi,” you flushed, the atmosphere suddenly feeling very tense.
“Look, Y/N,” he began with a sigh and you glanced at the gorgeous man who was biting his lip and looking very guilty. You knew at once what he was going to say.
“Peter, don’t you dare.”
Peter looked at you with wide, shocked eyes, “what?”
“Are you about to apologise?”
“Well, yeah,” Peter chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.
You shook your head as you placed your hand on his arm, “you don’t have to apologise.”
The man frowned, “but I hurt you.”
He had hurt you, you weren’t about to disagree with that but you deemed it time to put the past behind you, “you did, but Peter, we were kids and I handled it the wrong way, a knee-jerk reaction I guess. I know it’s been a long time but please, can we start again?”
Peter grinned, looking very relieved as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, “of course, Y/N. How have you been?”
Over Peter’s short break from work you learned that he went to college in the city – where he met Felicia – and he’d gone on to work as a photographer for The Daily Bugle. It seemed like the perfect job for him, in high school he was hardly seen without a camera. In turn, he learned that you had been living in the South of France before recently moving back to the city because you missed your family. It felt great to have Peter back in your life and you had the best time catching up with him but something gnawed at your conscience.
“Peter, I’m so sorry about what happened to Gwen,” you smiled sadly as you took a sip of your champagne.
Peter nodded as he raked a hand through his hair and he looked up at you with those big brown eyes, “I saw your folks at the funeral.”
The guilt in your heart only seemed to increase, “I came to the churchyard but I didn’t let you see me, that’s why I didn’t come to the funeral because I didn’t want to upset you by being there.”
Peter shook his head, “it would have been good to see you, Y/N.”
“Parker!” a shout came from inside of the bar, interrupting the conversation between you and Peter.
“Fuck! That’s my cue, I should go. I’ll see you later, Y/N,” he pressed a fleeting kiss to your cheek before he ran into the party to appease his boss.
You walked into the bar and met Felicia with a grin and she wrapped an arm around your shoulders, “y’know, you and Peter would make a pretty cute couple,” you scoffed at your friend’s words but you couldn’t stop your cheeks from heating up.
At the end of the night, you said goodbye to Felicia, promising that you’d meet up with her again soon, and you walked over to where Peter was sitting at an empty table, going through his photographs of the night. You didn’t notice his disgruntled expression until you sat opposite him.
“Hey, that isn’t the face of an award winning photographer,” you laughed.
Peter looked up at you with a dead pan look, “ha, ha. That was so funny I forgot to laugh,” he sighed, “I’m gonna have to hail a cab, I’ve missed my last fucking train.”
Your eyes bugged out, was he crazy? “you can’t! A cab is gonna cost the money you made tonight.”
Peter rolled his eyes with the ghost of a smirk on his lips, “well, I guess that I could swing home.”
That was an even worse idea, “have you been drinking?” you quirked an eyebrow and folded your arms. Peter nodded with a sheepish look on his face, “yeah, you’re not swinging home,” you hesitated as you came up with an idea, though it might have been the worst idea you’d had all night, “come on, you can stay the night at my place.”
Peter’s eyes widened as he began to stutter and stammer, you were sure that he was going to refuse but his reply surprised you, “are you sure?” he asked and you ruffled his hair, it felt soft beneath your fingertips.
“Positive, come on.”
Butterflies swarmed in your stomach as you set up the spare bed, making sure that Peter would be as comfortable as possible. It was strange, before tonight you thought that you’d never see Peter Parker again and now he was sleeping in your spare bed. With a nervous smile, you turned back to Peter and gestured at the set of drawers.
“There should be some clothes in there that should fit.”
“Thanks, Y/N.”
“You’re welcome, let me know if you need anything,” you smiled and Peter nodded, his brown eyes sparkling.
“Night, Y/N.”
“Goodnight, Pete,” you grinned as you got yourself off to bed.
After a good night’s rest, you decided to make your favourite breakfast, chocolate chip pancakes with maple syrup and rashers of bacon. Just as you were serving up the pancakes, Peter came padding into the kitchen, his hair sticking up in different directions and he was bleary eyed, he looked adorable.
“Morning, Pete, did you sleep alright?” you smiled as you made a pot of coffee.
Peter shot you a sleepy smile that made you flush, “I had an amazing sleep, thank you, your spare bed is so comfortable. Thank you for letting me stay.”
“No problem, want some breakfast?” you smiled, placing a plate of pancakes and maple syrup on the table and he groaned.
“They look so good.”
“Dig in,” you pushed the plate towards him and he shot you a grateful smile, there was a comfortable silence as you both ate your breakfast and drank your coffee.
Peter broke the silence about ten minutes later, “you know we should go and get dinner together sometime.”
You felt your cheeks heat up and you had to tell yourself that he wasn’t asking you out, it was just going to be you two grabbing some food together. You were not about to get your hopes up and make the same mistake as you did in high school, “sure thing.”
Peter shot you a winning smile as he stood up from the kitchen table with his empty plate, placing it in the sink, “thank you for breakfast,” he was so close to you that you could see the syrup shining on his lips and your stomach did somersaults.
“Sure,” you trailed off when his warm hand cupped your cheek and you wanted to lean into it but instead you looked up at him, blinking rapidly, “what are you doing?” you murmured.
“Well, I was thinking of kissing you.”
You swallowed and licked your lips, noticing his eyes following the movement of your tongue, you felt like a love struck teenager all over again, “do you really think that’s a good idea, regarding our previous history?” you asked and he smiled, his thumb rubbing along your jaw.
“Things are different now.”
You knew he was right, things were different and you wanted to kiss him, really you did but you were still reluctant, “what if I don’t want you to kiss me?”
Immediately he let his hand drop from your cheek and he took a step back, “if you don’t want me to kiss you, then I won’t Y/N, of course I won’t,” he smiled.
You missed his touch and his warmth at once and you bit your lip as you looked at him, weighing up all the pros and cons in your head, “oh, what the hell,” you sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck, delving your fingers into his hair.
Peter leaned down to kiss you and you sighed against his lips as you tasted the sticky maple syrup and your hands came to rest on his chest. This could turn out to be the worst mistake that you’d ever make but as Peter deepened the kiss, you were surprised to find that you just didn’t care. All you could focus on was Peter’s lips against yours.
Summary: You’ve never felt like you belong, your parents certainly treat you like you don’t belong. Then the absolute impossible happens which leads you to a handsome, grieving boy, and you realise that home isn’t a place. It’s a person.
Warnings: fluff, angst, mentions of character death, ooc, swearing
Words:2112
Disclaimer:This is set a couple of years after tasm 2 but it may still have some nwh spoilers so read at your own risk, and this gif doesn’t belong to me!
A/N:Hope you guys enjoy this part, please let me know what you think and let me know if you would like to be tagged, I love you all! xxx
Your first few weeks in the new, New York was pretty uneventful, you had yet to find yourself a job, you didn’t want any old shitty job, you wanted to be happy in your work. And, plus, you could afford to wait for a job that you’d actually like. You’d recently had an interview with a local newspaper called, ‘The Daily Bugle,’ to be one of their writers. The guy in charge, J. Jonah Jameson was kind of a crank but he didn’t ask too many questions, thankfully.
What would you have said if he had questioned you anyway? You couldn’t exactly say, ‘hey buddy, don’t mind me, I think I just zipped in from another universe,’ that was one sure way to get yourself locked up in the psych ward.
It was too late for you to enrol in university but you’d started going to night classes for criminal psychology, which had been your major when you lived in the old New York. You’d made some new friends who felt like family already, in such a short amount of time and you’d never had that before.
On a less positive note, you hadn’t seen Peter since he helped you move into your apartment, he hadn’t text or called, and to be honest, you didn’t want to bother him.
You shivered in the cold wind as you walked down the street, you should have put a jacket on but it really would have ruined your outfit. Betty was standing outside the bar, smoking a cigarette, and you rolled your eyes with a smile. Ever since you met her she was always saying that she was going to quit. That seemed to go out of the window every time she drank.
“Hey, Y/N!” Betty grinned as you walked up to her, “you look cute!” she pulled you into a hug, smelling like cigarette smoke and that mint gum she was always chewing.
“Thank you! You do too,” you smiled at her before turning your attention to the bar behind her, “so this is a dive bar, huh?” you asked with a raised eyebrow, you didn’t have to go into a dive bar to know that it wasn’t your scene.
Betty nodded, her eyes widening, “you’ve never been to a dive bar before?” when you shook your head she gasped dramatically, “so, let me get this straight, you’ve never been to a bar with a disgusting sticky floor and spent all night playing pool and drinking shit beer?”
“Yeah, I’ve definitely never been to one,” you fought hard to supress your shudder but you were unsuccessful.
Betty laughed at the expression on your face as she put out her cigarette, “well, sweetie, I’m afraid being friends with me is going to change that,” she wrapped an arm around your shoulders and steered you into the bar.
Betty was right, the floor was horribly sticky and the music was loud enough to shake the walls. But, that wasn’t what drew your attention, what did draw your attention was the handsome boy with fluffy brown hair nursing a pint of beer with a lost look in his puppy dog brown eyes. He looked so sad.
“Peter?” you called out as you walked up to him and he looked up with a raised brow, “Peter hey,” you smiled and gave him a little wave.
Peter gave you a polite nod as he took a sip of his beer, “Y/N, how are you?” he asked with the ghost of a smile on his face.
“I’m good, how are you?” you asked, twisting the ring on your finger, something you did when you were feeling nervous. You had been imagining what it would be like to see him again, you just didn’t know it would be this nerve wracking.
“I’m good.”
“Y/N, how good to see you again.” Felicia Hardy sneered as she slipped in the seat next to Peter and you had this nagging feeling that you were intruding.
You looked between her and Peter, he looked somewhat uncomfortable as the beautiful woman wrapped an arm around his bicep. Her long red nails tapped against Peter’s skin as she smirked at you.
“I’ll see you later, Peter,” you sighed and turned back to Betty without waiting for a reply.
“I saw that longing look, Y/N and I wouldn’t go there if I were you, I went to high school with Peter and he hasn’t dated anyone since Gwen.”
“Who’s Gwen?” you asked, waving at Flash who’d already set the pool table up.
“His girlfriend, she died a few years ago and Peter blames himself, though I don’t know why. They were disgustingly in love, they definitely would have married young and have had five kids or something. But, he hasn’t dated anyone since she died so I wouldn’t waste your time unless you want your heart broken.”
Your heart hurt on Peter’s behalf, you had no idea that he had suffered so much at such a young age. You glanced back at Peter to find that Felicia quite literally had her claws into him. They must have a solely physical arrangement.
“Why the long face, Y/N? It’s Friday night,” Flash chuckled as he held out a pool cue and you took it with a smile.
Before you could reply, Betty beat you to it, “we just saw Peter Parker.”
Flash nodded as he leaned across the pool table to take his first shot, “Parker’s a good guy.”
Betty sighed and bumped her arm against yours, “she’s got a crush on him.”
Flash’s eyes flickered over to you so fast that you were kind of embarrassed, “yeah, I wouldn’t go there if I were you.”
“Yeah I told her.”
“I wish you would stop talking about me as if I’m not here,” you sighed, “and I do not have a crush on him!” you protested, rolling your eyes at Betty’s disbelieving look, “I don’t!”
You tried to have a good night with your friends and you did for the most part. However, the talk of Gwen and Peter had put a damper on things, you couldn’t believe how much he’d been through, losing someone so important to him. You decided to leave a little earlier than planned, rejecting your friend’s offers to come with you, you still wanted them to have a good night. You knew that Betty was going to end up in bed with Flash, even though she’d said a million times that she wouldn’t go there again.
You hadn’t drunk all that much so you put your warm pyjamas on, got yourself a hot chocolate and sat out on your balcony with a blanket to watch New York’s nightlife. You were out on the balcony for twenty minutes before a figure in red and blue zipped across the skyline. Your heart soared and you smiled as the hero came to land on your balcony.
“Hey, Spidey,” you grinned as you took a sip of your hot chocolate.
“It’s, Y/N right?” his voice was muffled by his mask but you could still hear the smile in his voice.
You laughed, “yes, do you remember the names of all the women you save?”
“The pretty ones certainly make a lasting impression,” you flushed at his words, “shit, I’m sorry that was a real dick thing to say.
You shrugged and shook your head, “it’s okay. I realise that I never thanked you for saving my life.”
“You don’t need to thank me,” Spider-Man waved away your thanks.
“I do, I’d be dead if it wasn’t for you, so thank you,” you smiled.
“You’re welcome,” he nodded before he fiddled with his fingers, “so um, how are you feeling?”
You smiled, it was so sweet that he seemed to care, “much better, though I do have a wicked scar so I certainly won’t be wearing a bathing suit for a while. Thank you for asking though,” you hesitated as you looked up at the masked hero, “what are you doing here, Spider-Man?” you were merely curious.
“I was just in the neighbourhood but I probably should go,” he glanced over his shoulder.
It was a strange sensation but you didn’t want to see him go, “wait! I didn’t mean it like that, you can stay for a while.”
“I know, I know, don’t worry but I really do have to go. I’ll see you around, Y/N,” he zipped away on his webs before you could return his farewell. You were left staring after the superhero with a frown on your face.
——————————-
Monday morning came far too quickly for Peter Parker, he could hardly keep his eyes open as he walked into the elevator, draining half of his coffee in one. He had an assignment to finish for the newspaper last night so he worked quite late into the night and he’d done a round of fighting crime. He just wanted to go back to bed and sleep for about five years.
“Oh hold the door!” he heard a woman call out as the elevator doors began to close and he pressed the button to keep them open.
The woman ran into the elevator and on further inspection, Peter realised that it was Y/N in formal attire. What was she doing here? Y/N looked up at him with a grin, “thank you so much…” she trailed off “Peter, hey!” she laughed nervously, “I promise I’m not following you.”
Peter smirked, “dang it, I was so hoping,” he smiled and Y/N laughed, looking more relaxed, “what are you doing here if you don’t mind me asking?”
“It’s my first day, I’m really excited,” she looked so happy, that Peter had to smile.
“Great,” he muttered.
“What did you say?” Y/N looked up at him with a frown, she looked so pretty when she did that, somehow.
“Nothing, nothing,” he shook his head with a sigh. He’d done a good job of staying away from her up until a week ago when he decided to drop her a visit as Spider-Man, and now they were going to be working in the same place. Would he never escape her? He didn’t want anyone else to get hurt.
As they got up into the office, Jameson popped his head out of his own office and nodded at Y/N, “Y/L/N, Parker, you’re on babysittin’ duty today,” he nodded over at Y/N who scoffed but Jameson didn’t seem to hear it as he retreated back into his office.
“What a lovely man,” Y/N laughed as she bit her lip and glanced at Peter, “I’m sorry that you have to be lumbered with me.”
Peter shrugged, he didn’t mind, “it’s cool, just uh grab a desk I guess. Jameson give you an assignment?” he asked, raking a hand through his hair.
Y/N nodded with a smile, “yeah, I won’t need to bother you for anything, Peter,” Peter’s chest clenched with guilt at her words and he was about to apologise before Y/N walked behind his desk and gasped, “did you take those photographs?”
Peter followed her gaze and smiled as he looked down at the polaroid’s of Spider-Man that were scattered across his desk, “uh yeah, I did.”
“They’re really good, Peter,” Y/N smiled, “I met him again, the other week,” she nodded at the photographs.
“Oh yeah?” Peter asked casually, “what did you think of him?”
“I think he’s great, a real hero,” Y/N grinned at him as she walked over to a free desk, and Peter couldn’t help but feel smug.
A couple of hours into the day, Peter glanced up when someone walked into the office and he saw with the upmost surprise that it was Aunt May and she was carrying a brown paper bag. Peter stood up from his desk and walked around to meet his Aunt, “what are you doing here?” he asked, giving her a hug.
“You forgot your lunch sweetheart,” she smiled and placed the bag on his desk.
Peter laughed, “what would I do without you?”
“Oh you’d die of hunger,” she laughed and glanced around the room, her eyes landing on Y/N, “hello, Y/N!”
Y/N beamed as she stood up, “hi, Mrs Parker, it’s good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you too darling,” she grinned before she glanced between Peter and Y/N, Peter could almost see the cogs turning in her head, “would you like to come for dinner at the weekend, Y/N?”
Y/N grinned at the same time as Peter sighed, he loved his Aunt so much but he wished that she wouldn’t meddle, Y/N’s smile fell slightly as she glanced at Peter before looking at Aunt May, “I’m sorry Mrs Parker, I’ve got plans this weekend.”
“Oh that’s a shame, maybe another time then.”
“Yeah, maybe,” she forced a smile as she sat back down in her desk chair.
As soon as Aunt May laughed, Eddie Brock snickered over at Peter, “bro, you’re just so adorable with your Aunt bringing you a packed lunch and all.”
Peter usually ignored Eddie but today he glared at him, “or maybe I’ve just got someone who cares about me, though I wouldn’t expect you to know what that’s like,” he replied savagely before he glanced over at Y/N who seemed determined not to look at him.
warnings: explicit language, smut (18+! fingering, finger sucking lol), smoking, mentions of drug use
summary: you learn about peter’s brief sexual history, and the two of you make an arrangement
a/n: the moment you’ve all been waiting for! i wanna say thanks really quick for all the love so far hehe i appreciate how much you fw this series, there’s more to come and as always enjoy <3
peter’s lips chase yours as he lays you down on your bed, your legs parted so he’s between them. you bring a hand up to the back of his neck to guide the kiss. your teeth graze his bottom lip, testing the waters to see what he likes. peter hums permissively, so you do it again. his fingers run up and down the bare skin of your lower back, where your shirt bunches up. it gives you a tingly feeling.
how did he get so good at this?
you hook a leg around peter’s waist, drawing his body flush against yours. your skirt flips up. peter lets his hands travel your body as you suck on his bottom lip. your nipples are poking out of the thin material of your top, which garners his attention. he wants it off. he taps on your hip to cue your eyes to find his. you follow his gaze, down to your chest. you reply with a grin, your lips latching onto his in another kiss.
with your permission, peter lifts your shirt over your head. you raise your arms to help him out a bit. you hurl the shirt at the floor, grabbing onto his shoulders. he pulls back from the kiss for a moment so can look at you, really look at you and take you in. he’s pleased to discover you aren’t wearing a bra.
“shit,” peter swears, his breath fanning over your face. “fuck, can i…” he doesn’t say it, but you know what he means. “yeah, peter. you can touch me,” you respond.
peter sets one hand on your waist, his other coming up to your chest. you hold your breath in anticipation. you’ve done this plenty of times before, more than you could count, but something about it is different with peter. it’s new, unpredictable, spontaneous. neither of you know what’s coming next.
he’s so close to touching you, so close, but a bright red substance coating his fingertips stops him. he shows you his hand with an apologetic smile.
the remnants of the hot cheetos he was eating earlier.
“well, shit. to be continued,” you let out an airy laugh, wriggling out from under peter. “you mean, like, you wanna do this again?” he wonders. he watches as you put your top back on. “duh. we were only just getting started, and i think we both deserve to finish, if you know what i mean,” you imply, sitting criss-cross. “do you wanna, though?” you make sure. “oh, absolutely. to be continued it is,” he chuckles.
peter lays down in front of you, head resting in his hand. he grins at you, and his lips look so damn kissable. they’re plump from all of your sucking on them, parted for air. you can’t resist it, so you go in for a short peck. he eagerly kisses you back, sitting up again to reach you better. much to his dismay, you push him back down.
“save it for later, tiger,” you giggle. “ugh, sorry,” peter groans, rolling onto his back. “don’t be. where’d all that come from, by the way?” you question. “all what?” his brows knit together. “you’ve got skills. don’t take this the wrong way, but i definitely wasn’t expecting that,” you refer to your kissing. “then it might surprise you to know i’ve done this before,” he informs you, head leaned on his arms.
“for real?” you prompt. “a couple times, yeah,” peter nonchalantly says. a smile crosses your features. “with who?” you inquire. “you’re not gonna believe me if i tell you,” he laughs out. “yeah? try me,” you motivate. he waits a beat, then looks up at you. “gwen stacy,” he reveals. “you’re right, i don’t believe you. there’s no fucking way,” you instantly challenge, whacking his shoulder.
gwen stacy is one of, if not the most popular girl at midtown. she’s head cheerleader, and homecoming queen, and school president. she’s also liz’s biggest competition. liz is always second best to her. runner-up for homecoming royalty, vice president, but at least she has decathlon. gwen wouldn’t dare touch it, the club and anyone who’s associated with it being branded a social pariah.
so, how the hell did she end up with peter?
you’re cordial with gwen, although you aren’t each other’s biggest fans. she’s sweet to your face, but gossips behind your back, about your drug habits and your sex life. you couldn’t give less of a fuck what she thinks. she’s stuck up, and a bitch. at least you can live a little.
“give me a storytime, immediately. how on earth did that happen?” you gape. “you really wanna know?” peter asks you. “uh, yeah! start talking!” you whack him again. “alright, alright! stop hitting me! it was at one of flash’s parties,” he begins, a sly smile on his face. flash thompson is legendary for his ragers. “he invited the whole decathlon team because he’s an alternate member,” he continues.
“which makes zero sense ‘cause he’s an idiot. questionable move on liz’s part,” you interject. “you’re telling me? anyway, flash made everyone play seven minutes in heaven,” peter recalls. “a classic, a classic. go on,” you comment. “lucky me, i ended up with gwen. to make a long story short… it lasted a little longer than seven minutes,” he smirks. “you two had a nice time, then?” you jab a finger at his chest.
“so nice, it became a regular thing,” peter clarifies. “gwen was my first… everything. she taught me a lot,” he grins at the memory. “so i essentially just made out with gwen stacy. not really my type, but hey. i’ll try anything once,” you conclude. peter chuckles quietly. “you and gwen, wow. why is now the first time i’m hearing about this?” you ask.
“we had to be discreet because gwen didn’t want anyone finding out. it would tarnish her reputation, or something like that,” he explains, lips pressing together. “i think that was part of the appeal, though. the sneaking around, trying not to get caught,” he says. “yeah, that’s kinda hot. but also, kinda unfair to you,” you cut in, sounding genuine. “is that why you stopped?” you wonder.
“no, um, gwen wanted to go all the way. i didn’t. i wasn’t ready, so she ended it,” peter mumbles. “oh, man. i’m sorry. she didn’t wanna wait for you?” you question. “nah, but it’s okay. she wasn’t really my type, either,” he confesses. “that’s a relief. wait, so you two never fucked?” you reiterate. “we never slept together, no. we did… other stuff,” peter says with less vulgarity.
despite what peter thinks, you think it’s pretty fucked up what gwen did to him. he was just too pussywhipped at the time to see it. illicit affairs don’t seem like his type of thing, so you respect him for cutting ties with her. and, you now have even more reason to dislike gwen. how could she act so high and mighty, like she’s so far above you, when she’s arguably worse than you are?
“hey, i appreciate you telling me. i feel like i just heard your villain origin story,” you laugh. “eh, i’m over it. it was a long time ago,” peter assures you. “i think she’s dating brad davis now,” he says. “the quarterback and the cheer captain? that’s such a cliche,” you snort. “gwen doesn’t deserve you, anyway. you could do way better,” you pat his cheek.
peter closes his eyes, finding solace in your touch.
he never thought you’d become such a close confidant for him, but you truly have. you always listen and never judge, you make him feel a million times better about anything he opens up to you about. it’s a safe space that you two have created for each other, a safety net to catch one another if you fall.
“i should probably go wash my hands,” peter speaks after a moment. “hang on, i’ve got it,” you grab one of his hands.
peter squints up at you. your fingers wrap around his hand, allowing you to lead it to your lips. peter has no idea where this is going, until you pop his thumb in your mouth. you make eye contact as your tongue glides along his thumb, his brown eyes darkening even further. you then do the same to his index and middle fingers simultaneously.
it’s sort of turning peter on, the sight of his fingers in your mouth. there’s something sensual about it.
“yummy,” you remark, releasing peter’s fingers. “that was… weirdly attractive,” peter admits. “sounds like someone’s got a kink,” you tease. “yeah? what kind of kink would that be?” he asks, lacing his fingers with yours. “i dunno, hand kink?” you press your palm against his. “you did the finger sucking. i think you’re the one with the hand kink,” he retorts.
he was joking, but you take him seriously.
“maybe i am.”
“mj! ned!”
peter comes racing into the bakery. he and ned usually hang around here whenever mj is working. mj is currently cleaning up for the night, and ned is helping her. her boss tasked her with closing. he gave strict instructions not to leave until the place was spotless.
“peter, we’re closing,” mj sighs. she wrings out a wet washcloth into a bucket. “if you and y/n are pulling another all-nighter, you’re gonna have to get your caffeine somewhere else,” she states. “that’s not why i’m here, but it is about y/n. can you talk?” peter asks her. “grab a broom or get moving,” she bargains.
peter finds a broom in the supply closet. he sweeps the floor while ned mops it, and mj wipes down the countertops.
“you said something about y/n? i’m all ears,” ned prompts. “dude, guess what? we just kissed!” peter beams. ned drops his mop. “you did? oh my god, peter! this is huge!” he gives peter a bear hug. “congrats, dude. you haven’t gotten any action since gwen stacy,” he jests. “thanks for the reminder,” peter pats his back.
mj kicks the mop towards ned.
“back to work, leeds. i’m not paying you to reminisce on peter’s shitty love life,” she calls to him. “you’re not paying me at all,” ned mutters. “who said i loved gwen? i never even liked her,” peter fixates. “but do you like y/n?” ned questions. mj gives him a look, so he mops the floor while he awaits peter’s answer. “define like,” peter responds rather anticlimactically.
“does y/n like you?” mj asks instead. “i mean, i don’t know, but we did make out for kind of a while,” peter replies, sweeping the area. “she must like your lips at least,” mj offers. “yeah, she must, because she wants to do it again,” he agrees, unable to fight back a grin. “dude! i told you she’d hook up with you!” ned hollers. “are you gonna go all the way this time?” he wonders.
“ned,” mj speaks with a warning tone. “what? it’s a valid question. we all know what happened with gwen,” ned justifies. peter looks down at the floor, pushing around cookie crumbs with the broom. “i’m not sure, ned. y/n isn’t like gwen, though. she gets it,” he murmurs. “he totally likes her,” ned says to mj.
peter doesn’t say anything back.
“one more strike and you’re on bathroom duty, leeds,” mj threatens. “haha, you said bathroom duty,” ned points out.
peter does a half-assed job with the rest of his sweeping, still stuck on his conversation with ned and mj. he’s almost positive he doesn’t like you, not like that. he can’t. you’re his friend, and he’s your tutor. you’re you, and he’s him. he just happened to be blessed with a skilled mouth that you want to explore more of. the way he sees it, he’s merely your next conquest.
he doesn’t mind, though. he’s been thinking about you a lot lately; he’s been thinking about you nonstop. he can’t get the image of your bare tits out of his mind, or the feeling of your lips off of his own. it’s driving him absolutely mad.
the bottom line is that he’s down for it, whatever it is between you and him.
“is may around?” you ask peter upon entering his apartment.
it’s later in the week, and you’re over for tutoring. that’s what peter thinks, at least. he’s none the wiser to what you really have planned for the two of you.
“uh, no. she’s at the shelter. she took another late shift, why?” peter answers. “good. we can pick up right where we left off,” you propose, arms winding around his torso. he raises a brow. “i thought we were gonna do the physics homework,” he reminds you. “it can wait,” you play with the collar of his sweater. “but it… it’s due tomorrow,” he breathes out.
peter is all for part two of your make out session, but you can’t lose sight of what’s really important here; passing physics.
“we have plenty of time, peter,” you speak lowly. “y/n, i… you’re doing really well. i don’t want you to get sidetracked,” peter says despite himself. “if i’m doing so well then i deserve a reward, don’t you think?” you practically purr, leaning in so your lips ghost over peter’s. “we shouldn’t, y/n/n. not right now,” he weakly replies. “fine, suit yourself. i’ll go get my calculator,” you retract your offer.
your lips leave peter’s, arms starting to unwind from around him. he catches your arms before they do, situating them around his waist once again.
“i guess we could do the homework later. what time do you have to be home?” peter questions with a half smile. “you know i don’t have a curfew,” you murmur before your lips crash into his.
the two of you barely make it to peter’s bedroom between your sloppy kisses and handsy touches, each of you effectively hot and bothered when you finally do. peter sits at the edge of his bed with you in his lap. you’re in a mini skirt that’s even shorter than the one you wore last time, heightening the feeling of the position for both of you.
your hands find their way back to peter’s sweater as his lips pepper your skin in an array of kisses. the kisses are soft, ticklish almost, and peter grabs your chin between his fingers so he can concentrate them where he wants to. he settles on your jaw.
“can i take this off?” you pull on the hem of peter’s sweater. “please,” peter speaks against your skin. you remove his sweater, only to be met with a flannel underneath it. “you’re not making this easy for me, are you, tiger?” you laugh breathlessly. “i like it when you call me that,” peter grins and pecks your cheek. “me, too. it’s very fitting,” you concur, getting to work on his flannel buttons.
you slide the flannel off peter’s shoulders, revealing abs and muscles you had not a clue were there.
“holy shit, you’re ripped! what’ve you been hiding under all those layers?” you grasp at peter’s biceps. he chuckles at your reaction. “you’re just full of surprises, aren’t you? i mean, shit, who even are you?” you ogle him. “all i had to do was take my shirt off and you’re salivating,” peter brags. “you’re so fucking hot, jesus,” you go on.
peter kisses you again to shut you up, and because he doesn’t like going too long without your lips attached to his. your hands continue to feel up his toned body, his hands moving down yours. they stop just above the curve of your ass, tentative towards fulfilling his desires. you sense his reluctance and let your lips momentarily detach from his.
“it’s okay. you can touch me wherever you want,” you offer a smile. “are you sure?” he questions, licking his lips which are covered in your gloss. “i’m sure. i want this just as much as you do, peter,” you soothe. “okay, good. in that case…” a cheeky smile makes its way onto his features.
you resume your kiss, and this time, peter lets his hands come to rest on your ass. he kneads gently with his fingers, a sigh leaving your lips. your nails scratch against his chest, tongue tangling with his. you sneak a hand back to unzip your skirt so you can speed up the process. that leaves you in your panties, and it’s only then that you realize just how hard peter is, and just how wet you are.
you’resoaked.
peter takes note. his thumb skims along the waistband of your panties, an arm looping around your middle.
“i never got to take care of you the other day. lemme make it up to you?” he looks into your eyes. “god, please. i’m literally pulsating,” you manage. “yeah, i can feel you,” peter chuckles. “i can feel you, too. must be fucking suffocating in there,” you place a hand on his thigh. his breath hitches. “could i take care of you after?” you wonder.
“no, no. don’t worry about me. let’s just focus on you, alright?” peter nods, willing you. “well, it’s not often you hear a guy say that,” you concede. “i prefer giving to receiving. i’m just selfless like that,” he smolders, making you giggle. “peter parker, you’re a fucking dream,” you remark.
peter smiles at that, really smiles. although he knows your words are driven solely by lust, he finds tenderness in them.
you angle your hips so peter has better access to where you need him. peter keeps you in place with his arm around your waist, pushing your panties aside. he uses a finger to collect your wetness, so slowly it’s agonizing. the feeling sends shivers down your spine. a cocky smirk appears on his lips. his thumb presses ever so slightly on your clit, eliciting a high-pitched whine from you.
you’re about ready to beg for more, then two fingers enter you.
“oh,fuck.”
you smash your lips into peter’s as his fingers begin to pump inside you. he starts at a steady pace, still slow, but steady. it’s when his thumb comes back up to massage your clit that you let out a soft moan against his lips. he pays more attention to your bundle of nerves since it’s what you respond the most to, letting his fingers curl a bit in you.
“that’s good… do that,” you exhale, holding onto peter’s biceps. “whatever you like, y/n/n. just tell me,” peter murmurs.
you leave a messy kiss on his chin in response.
peter brings his free hand down to give your ass a squeeze while his fingers work inside you. you yelp, forehead falling against his. yours has become sticky with sweat. his thumb circles your clit with just the right amount of pressure to evoke more moans from you. he continues to curl his fingers in you deliciously, pace consistent. your hips roll in sync with him.
“that’s it. how’s that feel?” peter rasps. “fuck, just… just keep doing what you’re doing,” you pant out, hips matching his movements. “i’m so close. so, so close,” you almost heave. “already?” he teases. “you should take that as a compliment, dickhead,” you bang a fist into his chest. “i do, y/n/n. in the highest form,” he reassures.
all it takes is a few more strokes of peter’s fingers in that one perfect place, combined with his thumb on your clit and the lolling of your hips, and you’re done for. you gasp as you reach your high, clutching at peter’s arms. he works you through it, strong arms bracing you. when he feels you clenching around his fingers, he carefully slips them out of you.
“peter, that was…” you don’t even have the words. “i know,” peter hums, readjusting your panties for you.
peter’s curls stick to your forehead when yours separates from his. you drop your head onto his bare chest, hands still on his arms. peter gives you time to collect yourself. he rubs your back while you try to even out your breathing, the room now silent save for both of your pounding heartbeats.
that was fucking incredible. you don’t think you’ve ever came so fast. peter was so attentive, listened to you and your body, and it made the experience that much better. out of all the sexual encounters you’ve had, it’s been rare you find someone committed to your pleasure as much as peter is. you’ve learned that when you do, you should keep them around.
you’re not done with peter just yet.
“let’s talk,” you smile, peeking up from peter’s chest. “uh oh, how bad was it?” he jokes. “no, really. there’s something i wanna talk to you about,” you laugh. he becomes more serious. “sure, what’s up?” he questions, brows furrowing.
you climb out of peter’s lap and sit next to him. he shifts on the bed so he’s looking at you.
“how would you feel about us making an arrangement of sorts, for lack of a better term?” you prompt. “what kind of arrangement?” peter follows up. “y’know, a friends with benefits type of thing,” you elaborate. “wait, what? seriously?” he bites his lip to suppress a smile. “yeah, if you’re down. this was fun… really fun, and i’m comfy with you. plus, you have experience in this field,” you grin.
peter thinks it over for a moment. he definitely wouldn’t mind hooking up with you on the regular, and it wouldn’t be his first time doing so with someone. it didn’t end so well the last time, though.
then again, you aren’t like gwen, not in the slightest. you didn’t shame him when he told you about waiting to have sex, and you’re always encouraging when he wants to try something new. he trusts you; you trust him. above all else, that matters most to peter while being intimate. besides, just like you’d said physics was his territory, this is yours. you know what you want, and what you’re doing.
what could go wrong?
“let’s do it,” peter agrees, grinning back at you. “perfect! we’ve just gotta set some ground rules, and then we’re good to go,” you affirm. you seat yourself in his lap again. “good idea. what’s rule number one?” he asks, hands setting on your thighs. “always be safe, and sanitary. your cheeto fingers aren’t welcome here,” you wave a playful finger at him. “i won’t make it a habit. number two?” he chuckles.
“communicate. don’t be afraid to tell me what feels good, or what doesn’t,” you start. “and there’s never any pressure to do something you don’t want to. i’m guessing sex is off the table?” you inquire. peter’s cheeks turn pink. “is that okay?” he recoils. “completely okay. no pressure,” you repeat, thumb lightly tracing his jawline. “okay,” he relaxes, fingers wrapping around your wrist.
“rule number three is the third and final, but the most important one of all,” you prepare. “what is it?” peter wonders. you look him in his eyes. “no feelings, no getting attached. we’re friends, and friends only. we’re just helping each other get off. don’t except anything more,” you finalize. “can you handle that?” you check with him.
hethinks he can.
“yeah, totally. no strings attached,” peter repeats. “none,” you reinforce. “it’s settled, then. friends with benefits,” you nudge his nose with yours. “friends with benefits,” he pats your thigh. “we should probably get started on physics now. i heard warren’s collecting,” you huff. “of course she is. alright, after you,” he coaxes you out of his lap.
you get off the bed and put on your skirt. peter is still hard as a rock, and the sight of you shimmying your hips as you zip your skirt up doesn’t help. he’ll have to deal with his massive boner later, though. right now, you two have a shit load of physics homework to complete.
you’re in gym class, hiding out in the bleachers with harry and liz to avoid running the mile. liz ran hers already, but you and harry have been putting it off. the three of you watch everyone on the track as you catch up with each other.
“you and parker are fucking?” harry sneers. you just told him and liz about your… arrangement. “no, that’s actually the one thing we’re not doing,” you correct, feet kicked up on the bleacher in front of you. “why not? is he a prude or something?” harry ridicules. “hardly. he just wants to wait,” you shrug. “i don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. plenty of other things you guys could do,” liz throws in her two cents.
“right? he made me cum in, like, seconds the other night with just his fingers,” you recount. “seconds? damn, has he done this before?” liz prompts you. harry crosses his arms over his chest. “get this. he used to hook up with fucking gwen stacy,” you tell the two of them. “ugh, of all people? you’re joking,” liz’s jaw drops. “i’m dead serious,” you vow. “gwen is a fucking fox. how’d he pull her?” harry questions.
“seven minutes in heaven, one of flash’s parties. they hit it off,” you explain. “interesting,” harry fumbles for his pack of cigarettes. “oh, shit! i was there for that! they were locked in the closet for, like, ever,” liz remembers. harry offers you a cigarette. “i’m good. trying to cut back,” you decline, shielding your eyes from the sun.
you’ve been inspired by peter’s slip up with your edibles to reevaluate your usage of certain substances. he really is a good influence on you.
harry shoos at you and lights his cigarette.
“speak of the devil,” liz says. peter passes by as he’s finishing up his last lap. “sheesh, his ass looks great in those tiny little short-shorts,” you fan yourself. “some thoughts should stay in your head, y/l/n,” harry mumbles, taking a drag from his cigarette. “y/l/n! osborn!” coach wilson blows his whistle at the two of you. “get your asses on the track,” he reprimands.
liz smiles deviously. you and harry let out collective noises of anguish.
“i’m either gonna puke my guts out or die of heat exhaustion… or both,” you declare. “have fun with that,” liz sends you off. harry stays back with her. “what’s your deal with peter, osborn? seems like you have something against him,” she brings up. “huh? why would i?” he responds. “well, i think y/n was right. maybe you’re jealous,” she insinuates.
harry stands up from the bleachers. he spots you with your hands all over peter’s arms, the two of you laughing so loud he can hear it from up here. he takes one last drag from his cigarette before stomping it out.
“i’ve got nothing to be jealous of. she was my friend first.”
coach wilson blows his whistle at you again for talking to peter instead of running your laps. you puff air out of your cheeks, fingers trailing down peter’s arms before leaving them completely.
“that’s my cue. i’ve gotta run, literally,” you complain. “you want me to do it with you? i could take another lap, or four,” peter urges, smiling. “but you’re already done,” you remind him. “so? i’m working on the bod,” he flexes a bicep. “like you need to,” you prod at his muscles. he lowers his arm with a laugh. “it’s fine. we’ll do it together,” he decides.
“now you’re my tutor, my fuck buddy, and my personal trainer? i don’t know how you keep up,” you remark. “me neither. you’re not low maintenance, that’s for sure,” peter plays along. “c’mon, let’s get going before that vein in coach’s forehead bursts,” he says. “oh my god. you see it, too?” you grab his shoulder. “how could i not?” he confirms.
the two of you make your way to the track. you let peter go ahead of you so you can check out his ass again, thoroughly enjoying the view.
“wait, before we start, are we still on for tonight?” you wonder. you’re warming up, bending to touch your toes. “for tutoring? or, uh, the other thing?” peter replies. “both again? if there’s time in your busy schedule,” you answer. “if not, we’re just doing physics because that homework was brutal,” he groans. “i know, and it’s not like warren is a forgiving grader, either,” you mumble.
you come back up to a standing position. peter’s eyes are fixed on you, but he looks away when you look at him.
that makes you even.
“um,” peter clears his throat. “i’ll race you.”
you bump your hip against his, moving so you’re beside him.
WARNING: Might be triggering to some people! Please do not read if this may harm you. No fic is worth your safety.
Ridiculous. That is what you would describe this entire day as. It was nearly midnight and you were finally leaving Flash’s house after finishing your chem lab work. Of course he waited until the night before it was due to invite you over to “help”. His version of helping is sitting beside you talking complete nonsense while you do all of the work. You swore that if your teacher ever assigned the two of you to work together, you were going to just throw him off of the school building. What’s worse is that he didn’t even offer you a ride home afterwards. He seriously expected you to walk home in the dark by yourself. At the time, you were just happy to be leaving his house. But about twenty minutes into your journey, you were drowning in anxiety. Every single sound or slight movement that you heard, you were immediately spraying pepper spray in that direction. Of course it was useless since the trash cans you heard rattle were not a threat, but you couldn’t be too careful.
When you weren’t giving yourself a heart attack, you were thinking up a million ways to murder Flash. Decapitation. Throwing him off a building. Running him over with his own car. The possibilities were endless.
“What are you doing walking around this late?” a gruff voice asked from behind you. You were so caught up in your own head that you didn’t even see the three men leaned against the side of a building. Your spine snapped straight, feigning as much confidence as it could in its terrified state.
“As if it’s any of your business,” you scoffed before attempting to walk away from them. However you felt two hands snake around your waist from behind. You jumped, a surprised yelp jumping out of your throat. Quickly, the man covered your mouth with a sharp curse.
“Come on, now,” he scolded you, “There’s no need for that. We aren’t gonna hurt you, baby.”
You squirmed in his grasp as he led you over to his friends, one hand holding your waist in a death-like grip. Your attempts at calling out for help were all muffled behind the man’s hand. However futile they felt, you never once stopped. If you had any luck, some sort of stranger could walk by. Maybe they could hear you crying out for them. Maybe you could be saved from this.
“I’m gonna need you to shut the fuck up,” the man holding you growled into your ear, his lips brushing against your skin which made you recoil from him. He pulled you back to him harshly, his grip curling slightly which caused his nails to dig into your flesh. You let out a painful whimper, too scared to scream anymore.
“There you go,” he praised gruffly before turning to his friends, “good bitch knows how to take orders.”
His friends laughed alongside him as they approached slowly, each of their hands moving to caress various areas of your body. You weren’t sure you could call it that at this moment though. It didn’t feel like your body anymore. Not with their hands and bodies pressed against it. And how do you move a body that isn’t yours? The most you could do was shut your eyes. Close your eyes and pray that this will end quickly. But as the sound of your shirt ripping off your body was heard, you didn’t have a single ounce of hope left.
“Hey!” a voice broke through the air. The hands of the men stopped suddenly. You assume they had turned to the origin of the voice, but you weren’t ready to open your eyes just yet. Not when you felt the cold chill of a sharpened blade to your exposed neck.
“How about you back away, Spiderman?” a cocky tone chimed in from behind you. He spun the two of you to face Spiderman, causing you to cry out in fear as pressure slightly increased under the blade. Your eyes opened as if on their own, the sting of the cold metal against your surprising them open. Spiderman’s stance straightened in surprise. Before now, you had kept your hair partially sheltering your face, when you looked up to see the man- he acted almost as if he knew you.
“Don’t you hurt a single hair on her head,” Spiderman growled, his posture shifting into a fighting stance.
“It’s up to you, Spiderman. You move, she gets hurt,” the man cooed teasingly, “But if you leave, I’ll put the knife completely away.”
Spiderman looked at you for a moment, and even though he was wearing a mask… you knew that he was sorry. The knife was against your neck. If he were to move his hand to shoot his webs, there was a good chance that he couldn’t stop the knife in time. Sadly enough, you understood. You knew that no matter what superpowers Spiderman has… right now he couldn’t save you without gambling your life. So instead you just closed your eyes. It would be easier to forgive him for this if you didn’t see him leave.
The men laughed cockily as the sound of Spiderman retreating hit your ears. Immediate tears formed in your eyes, well aware of what he had left you with. You tried to tell yourself that it wasn’t his fault. There was nothing he could have done. He isn’t the monster of this story. But it was so hard to convince yourself while foreign fingertips greedily scanned your bare skin.
“I think that since I was the one who got rid of ole Spidy, I should get first dibs,” the man with the knife whispered against your ear before softly nibbling your neck. You recoiled at the feeling and let out a pathetic cry.
“I’m the one who caught her,” another griped, “If I wasn’t behind her, she would’ve gotten away.”
The men bickered, their motions becoming harsher. You tried not to cry, not wanting to give them more satisfaction than they were already stealing from you. Soon the argument took over the situation, causing two of the men to break away and fight on their own. To them, you were nothing more than an object. They only saw you as some living toy used only for their desire. It was sickening. How could they not care that they were ruining someone’s life?
The second the men broke into their own battle, a figure swooped in from the sky and kicked off one of the men held against you. A small smile broke out of your face as you witnessed the man slamming against the ground, unable to bring himself back up. The men fighting stopped instantly, turning to keep you cornered behind them. However, before they could make it to you, webs shot out of the sky. The web wrapped completely around them, immobilizing them. You watched with bright eyes, finally seeing some hope in this horrible situation. Spiderman swung out from the shadows and slammed against the two men, kicking them away from you. You heard them struggling against the webs, but your eyes stayed locked to your savior.
“I suggest you let her go,” the man growled, stepping closer to the two of you. The man didn’t give up, instead using you as a shield. You felt him pulling you backwards with him, but if it was just one guy- you could do something about it.
You waited until he was taking another step back before twisting as best as you could and slamming your leg into his groin. You heard the man let out a sharp breath of air before doubling over. Immediately you intertwined your hands and slammed downwards, knocking him to the ground face first. The two of you left standing winced slightly at the sound of bones breaking. The impact of his nose against the concrete caused it to break. It made you happy, knowing that you wouldn’t be the only one scarred from the situation.
“Ma’am?” Spiderman asked from behind you, not wanting to step forward and frighten you more than you already were. You turned towards him and it was something about being able to move freely… or maybe it was the fact you didn’t feel their hands anymore. Whatever it was, it caused tears to flow freely down your face. Spiderman jumped slightly in surprise as a loud sob erupted from you.
“Take me away from this please,” you wailed, “Please get me away from them or I’ll be the one having to go to jail. Please take me away.”
He moved quickly to you and waited for your permission to wrap his arm around you before swinging the two of you away from the men. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to get back in time to arrest the one not webbed, but you were more important to him than anything else.
The two of you ended up on top of an apartment building. He placed you on the ground as gently as he could, but it didn’t matter. The second your feet touched the ground, you dropped to your knees and cried.
“I-I’ll be right back I promise,” Spiderman said before jumping off the side of the building. A few minutes later he showed back up with a t-shirt and jacket in hand. You thanked him and put the clothing on. Whenever you turned back to him, you saw him facing the other way with his hands over his eyes.
“I don’t know why you’re doing that. You’ve already seen it,” you said quietly, hugging yourself with the fabric, “you can turn around though. I’m done.”
“I kept my eyes closed when I got the first three guys,” he admitted sheepishly, turning towards you slowly, “With the last guy, I looked only at him.”
Red hit your cheeks, “Thank you for that,” you mumbled, “And for saving me. I know that there was nothing you could’ve done the first time so… thank you for coming back.”
“I never left. I waited until it was safe… I had to wait until the guy with the knife was far enough from you. I’m so sorry it took so long.”
You were trying your hardest to fix your composure. You didn’t want to look weaker than you already did. So you stood tall and wiped the leftover tears off of your cheeks. Spiderman surveyed your posture before slumping.
“Y/N you don’t have to be on your guard with me,” he sighed, “I know you’re scared, but we know each other. Just trust me, please? I won’t hurt you.”
“We know each other?”
You could see him thinking something over with himself before he answered, “If I take off my mask will you not freak out or tell anyone?”
“Will you tell anyone anything about what happened tonight?”
“Other than the cops, no. I won’t use your name either.”
“Then we have a deal,” you agreed, still being on your guard. But when he lifted his mask, you broke down completely. You ran into his arms and hugged him as tightly as you could.
“Hey,” Peter shushed you calmingly, “You’re safe here. I’ve got you.”
“Peter,” you cried painfully into his chest. Peter was one of your best friends, and as soon as you calmed down from the situation- there would be a talk about why it took so long for you to be in the know. But for right now, you just wanted him to hold you a little longer.
“You can stay at mine tonight,” he told you, kissing the top of your head, “Aunt May won’t mind and you can just tell your parents you stayed at MJ’s. She’ll cover for you.” You nodded, unable to speak. You just held onto him as he took you back to his apartment.
-
Peter led you to the shower as soon as you got to his house. You thanked him as he turned the water to an appropriate setting. He of course made it a little hotter than he normally would because he knew how you liked the water hot. He left the bathroom for a minute and returned with a set of clothes, a towel, and a spare toothbrush.
“You know where my room is. I told Aunt May you’re here, it’s up to you whether or not you want her to know. She’s so tired that she didn’t really question it. Plus she knows about the whole side job thing.”
You thanked Peter, motioning to the shower, “I’m gonna get in now. I’ll probably be a while…”
Peter’s expression contorted to concern, but he just nodded. He knew it was better to just let you cry it out for right now. As much as he hates seeing you upset, he knew that you needed to get it out.
And you did. You sat on the floor of the shower for an hour and sobbed. You kept it as quiet as you could because of Aunt May, but it was hard.
You scrubbed your skin raw until you felt like you’d gotten most of their filth off of you, but some would always remain inside of you. The memory of you would keep their torment alive forever. They knew that, and you were sure they loved knowing you were going to suffer thanks to them.
Whenever you finally rejoined Peter, he was sitting up in his bed changed into nightclothes already. You had stayed with him before, but this was the first time you were nervous to share a bed with him. He noticed immediately and hopped off.
“I’ll stay on the couch tonight,” he announced, “Do you need a light? I don’t know how you feel about the dark right now. But I have a lamp I could keep on.”
You shook your head, “No I’m fine, but you can stay. I-As much as I’m scared to share a bed with a male right now, I’m more afraid of being alone.”
Peter nodded and walked towards you, enveloping you in his arms, “I’m so sorry I didn’t get there faster.”
Hearing his words, you let your walls down once more and clung to him, “Could you just take the pain away? It hurts… “ you whispered in a broken tone, Peter held you tighter to him, “It hurts so much.. Help me.”
Peter sighed, unsure of how to tell you that he didn’t know how to fix this. All he knew is that he would never let you leave his sight ever again.
You told him that it was a bad idea. Tony specifically told the two of you to stay away, but Peter wanted to see what everyone was being so secretive about. Of course you didn’t want to join him, but he begged you and Peter had this ability to convince you to do just about anything. He knows it too. So when he came into your room and begged you to come with him (Tony would be less likely to yell at him if you were with him), you couldn’t say no.
But you should’ve.
“Peter what are we even looking for?” you asked him with a bored expression. Peter looked back at you and shrugged. He didn’t have a clue. You sighed and leaned against the door frame, waiting for your idiotic friend to hurry up and leave. The deal was that you would go with him to the room, but you wouldn’t go in. Peter whined for a moment about it, but decided that it was better than nothing.
“I’m guessing I’ll know it when I see it,” he commented as he continued snooping around Banner’s work space. Guessing that you would be there for a while, you pulled out your phone and began scrolling through social media. You could hear Peter shuffling around the room mumbling to himself, but you concluded that if he found what he was looking for he would let you know.
It was quiet for a while, maybe two or three minutes before you heard clattering and Peter let out a short cry. When you looked up, you saw Peter flat on his ass looking up at some weird pink plant. You didn’t move to help him up or make any noise because of the look he had on his face. He looked dazed or distracted, like he was in some trance.
“Pete?” you asked with furrowed brows, shoving your phone back into your pocket, “You doing okay over there, Spidey?”
Peter’s gaze snapped away from the plant immediately and stuck on you. The way he was looking at you caused your heartbeat to quicken. He both looked confused and enthralled at your presence. You backed away slowly as he rose to his feet, not fully trusting his willpower at the moment.
“I don’t know what’s happening to me,” he spoke almost robotically, stepping closer towards you, “But I think you might need to get Mr. Stark.”
Without questioning him, you took off in the opposite direction where you assumed Tony would be. You ran as fast as you could through the headquarters, earning the attention of everyone you passed. When you finally caught a glimpse of the man, he was in a conversation with Banner. Normally you would just stand beside them awkwardly until you were noticed, but of course this situation was a bit different than all the other times.
“Tony!” you yelled as soon as you saw him, “Tony something happened!”
He turned around and looked at you with a surprised expression, “What hap- where’s the kid?”
You doubled over, holding onto your knees to catch your breath. Tony, who had an idea of what was going on, grabbed onto your shoulders and lifted you to his eyesight, “Y/N, where is Peter? Please tell me you did not go in the lab!”
“I-I didn’t,” you panted, “But Peter did. He messed with something, I don’t know what it was.”
Tony growled lowly to himself, removing his hands from your shoulders, “I need you to go into your room right now and don’t come out until I come to get you.”
“What ha-”
“No,” Tony snapped at you causing you to flinch slightly, “You don’t get to ask any questions. What you get to do is listen to me for once and go to your room.”
“Tony, all due respect and all, but I am not a high schooler anymore,” you seethed, not appreciating his tone, “I am twenty-three, okay? I told Peter to not go in there, but he didn’t listen to me. Don’t you dare treat me like a kid when I am just concerned for my best friend. So you’re going to tell me what the fuck happened in that lab and you’re going to tell me now.”
Tony sighed, his leg shaking impatiently. He didn’t have time to argue with you on this. Peter could be anywhere in the building by now. As much as Tony loved the fact that you were learning to stick up for yourself, he also knew that Peter probably figured out what happened in the lab. If he found that out, that means he’s trying his best to stay as far away from you as possible. There is no telling just how long he can hold himself back. Tony sighed, looking back at Banner who looked just as worried and guilty as Tony did.
“Banner, tell her everything,” Tony instructed, but before you could rejoice, Tony continued, “but walk her to her room while you do it. Quickly please.”
–
“So you’re saying that Peter was infected by…” you trailed off, not sure what to call the mysterious plant Banner was explaining. Apparently Banner and Tony found it on some planet or something. Tony, of course, was curious and talked Banner into helping him discover it’s powers. Little did they know that they ended up stealing a mating plant.
“We aren’t sure what to call it,” Banner explains, “but all we know is that once you sniff it, you go a bit crazy. Your inhibitions drop and your libido kind of goes crazy.”
“So you’re basically telling me that Peter sniffed a mysterious alien plant and is now roaming the building with a major boner?”
Banner slightly cringes at your terminology, but he couldn’t really argue with it, “Yeah basically.”
“So why am I being sent to my room like a scorned toddler?” you huffed.
Banner looked at you for a short moment, wondering if you were actually serious. When you didn’t budge, he just shrugged his shoulders, “I have no idea. But I’d rather follow Tony’s orders than be on his bad side.”
“I guess I understand that,” you stop in front of your door, turning to the man with a puzzled expression, “I have one last question.”
“Go for it.”
“How are you guys going to help him?”
-
It has been an hour since Banner and Tony stuffed you into your room. There hasn’t been any word on Peter’s condition, nor if they found him. Of course you have been blowing up everyone’s phones, but the only answer you received was from Nat. It was pretty vague also.
“Stop being a chicken. Do what you have to do. I never sent this message.”
You hate that you knew exactly what she meant. It didn’t take you very long to connect the dots as to why you were the only person being locked in their room. When Peter looked at you after messing with the plant, his eyes never left you once. The way that his eyes traveled down your body like he was soaking you in… You began to berate yourself for taking this long to realize.
You were the first person he saw. That had to be it.
But to break it, you would have to do something that would possibly end your friendship with Peter. Having sex with your best friend has always been the number one “do not”, but what if it was to save him? Though you weren’t entirely sure if he would die from this, but the way Tony was acting you just assumed it was lethal. So you asked yourself the dreaded question:
Would you have sex with your best friend in order to save their life?
Easy. Yes.
It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about it before. There was no way that you could see Peter Parker without a shirt and not have that thought. The one reason you never crossed that territory is because you know Peter, and you know that he wouldn’t endanger your friendship like that. Unless he was saving you from an alien plant that made you super horny? Honestly this whole situation is very Riverdale-y.
So you texted Nat. By now she would know.
Where is he?
She didn’t take long to answer you back.
His room.
-
“Peter?” you whispered, knocking lightly on his door. You could hear shuffling noises from behind the door, but Peter never replied. He had to be in there, Nat said he was. Also, who else would go into Peter’s room? On the brightside, if you were to go in and it wasn’t Peter- you could possibly catch a thief or an eavesdropper. It didn’t take long for you to make up your mind before you pulled out the spare key you had to his room. Peter had one to your room too, just in case.
Whenever you walked in, you noticed that his room had been destroyed. His desk, which was normally cluttered with his little inventions, was empty. The tools and other objects that normally resided on the desk were scattered around the floor. You searched the room for the boy, but he was nowhere in sight.
“Pete?” you called softly. A soft groan sounded from above you. Startled by the sound, you looked up at the ceiling to see your best friend covered in sweat. You could see the pain in his eyes as he looked down at you.
“Y/N, you really shouldn’t be in here,” Peter struggled to speak, jumping off the ceiling but staying a fair distance from you.
“Nat told me where to find you, but I’m not supposed to tell anyone,” you spoke softly, attempting to approach him. Peter back up into the wall, trying to stay as far from you as he could.
“Please,” Peter strained, “You don’t understand, you can’t be in here.”
“Banner told me what happened with the plant,” you sighed, stepping forward once more. Peter couldn’t back up anymore. He was stuck.
“Y/N can you not hear me?” Peter whined, “Just listen to me for once. Leave. Please.”
“I’m not leaving until I fix this,” you spoke stubbornly, your arms crossing in front of your arms, “Banner didn’t tell me why I was the only one being kept from you, but I finally figured it out. So I came to help. Please let me help.”
“You figured it out?” he croaked, “And you’re not… do you… you know?”
“I was the first person you saw after you were infected,” you explained, “So I’m guessing it’s like a love potion type deal? First person you see, you get stuck too.”
Peter looked at you in shock before laughing, “That’s not it at all, Y/N.”
Your eyebrows furrowed at the boy, a small frown tugging at your lips. Peter watched as the wheels in your head began to turn. You would figure it out soon. When you did, that would be the end of your friendship. There was no way that you would stay friends with him once you figured out how obsessed with you he was. He’d been in love with you forever and he was really good at hiding it from you. Years and years of pretending that he didn’t think about you writhing underneath him as his lips greedily devoured you… down the drain.
“Oh,” you whispered before meeting his eyes, “That makes this a whole lot less awkward.”
Peter’s grip on the window seal tightened, the wood splintering in his grip. He didn’t meet your eyes, afraid of what he would say or do. His resolve was crumbling by the second and he didn’t know how much longer he would be able to keep away from you. But then he realized something.
“Less awkward?” he spat, “Really? Is right now the time for you to be making jokes?”
“I’m not joking with you, Spidey,” you huffed, “I was going to have this whole heartfelt confession about how I really like you, but you know what. If you don’t want sweet, fine. You won’t get sweet.”
Peter’s eyes darkened, “You-”
“Like you a lot? Have imagined you pinning me down? Wondered what it would be like to have you whisper in my ear? Yeah all of the above, I guess. Also, Peter you broke the window seal. I’m not taking the heat for it so y-”
Hands reached out for you in a frenzy, both grasping onto your hair and tugging you backwards until he had you pressed against the wall, his knee positioned between your legs. You felt Peter’s lips envelope your own, snatching the breath right out of your lungs. Peter’s lips were soft and inviting, also they had a hint of a maple taste but that could be because you made him pancakes this morning. One of his hands abandoned your hair and fell onto your waist. You didn’t argue with him as his fingertips dipped underneath the fabric of your shirt, though you did make a sound when his warm hand caressed your breast, but it wasn’t in protest.
“Peter,” you moaned as his thumb grazed the fabric over your nipple. You felt his body go rigid against yours, a groan of desperation soaring past his lips.
“Pretty girl, I’m going to need you to stay a little quieter for right now,” he strained, “I don’t want our first time to be a blur to you. If you keep making beautiful noises like that, I might break and take you right here.”
You smiled at him challengingly, “Maybe that’s exactly what I want.”
Peter shivered at your words and gave you a wicked smile before placing both hands on your waist and wrapping you around his hips. His greedy lips bruised the skin of your neck, marking every available spot that he could reach. Your head was thrown back in bliss, symphonies of needy cries escaping your lips. It didn’t help that you could feel him against your crotch, teasing you ever so slightly.
Peter sat on the bed, leaving you sitting pretty on his lap. However, it wasn’t his plan to keep you there.
“Stand and strip.”
You didn’t challenge him this time, you would save that for later. Instead you just stood and slowly removed each article of clothing. Peter’s eyes drank in the sight of you bare in front of him, his beautiful eyes darkened by lust. It only made them more beautiful.
“Good girl,” he hummed, “Now sit on my knee.”
Confused, yet intrigued, you followed his orders. Peter smiled, loving how obedient you were being for him. The look in your eyes as you sat and awaited your next instruction. But he didn’t say anything, not at first. Instead, he began bouncing his leg. A struggled moan pushed passed your lips as the movement stimulated your clit. Your hands desperately grasped onto his shoulders in an attempt to steady yourself a bit better. Peter watched you with an amused smile on his lips. He loved seeing the way your eyes screwed tight just at the feeling of his thigh, He couldn’t wait to see your expression when he pushed himself into you.
Peter’s hands fell to your waist, guiding your hips in a grinding motion. You quickly understood his silent instructions and you kept the motion going, pressing down harder on his thigh.
“That’s my pretty girl,” he whispered, his lips grazing your bruised flesh, “I want you to keep going until you cum.”
You whined at his words, but you did as you were told. You rocked your clit against his denim clothed thigh, your eyes fluttering shut at the friction gathering between the two of you. Peter watched you with hunger in his beautiful brown eyes. The desire to touch you became too strong for him, leading him to allow his hand to travel to your heat, rubbing circles against it. The second the pad of his thumb pressed against your soaking wet clit, you were gripping tightly onto his thigh in order to quicken the pace. Peter smirked, enjoying the fact that all it took was his thumb and his thigh to have you falling out of place for him. As your pace increased, so did the bouncing of his knee. He closed his eyes, trying to lock the memory of your desperate mewling inside his mind.
“Peter,” you whined, your nails digging into his jeans.
“Are you close, pretty girl?” he asked sweetly. You could only nod in return, your eyes screwing shut at the knot turning in your stomach. Peter removed his empty hand from your waist and lifted it onto your breast, circling the areola faintly before dipping his head down and encasing your pearled nipple between his perfect lips. The sensation was the finishing touch to make the knot in your stomach finally break, causing stars to erupt in your eyes. You screamed a moan as you tried to ride out your high on Peter’s thumb and thigh, but he had other plans. The second you came, Peter flipped the two of you around, slamming your back onto his mattress. You didn’t have time to question him, nor were you really interested in asking.
Peter helped you ride out your high as he continued rubbing circles on your clit, high pitched whines dripping from your lips like profanities. It was the most provocative thing that Peter had ever heard in his entire life and he was hoping to remember the sound of you screaming his name on the day that he dies. Your hands reached forward and grasped onto Peter’s curls, tugging mercilessly at them.
“Peter,” you cried, “Peter please…”
He didn’t take another moment before ripping off his clothing and following you down onto the mattress. Peter’s warm palm was placed against your breast, massaging it and ever-so-slightly twisting on your nipple. More cries. Peter couldn’t get enough of the way you looked and sounded, dripping wet and desperate. For him. He reached into the dresser beside his bed, pulling out a condom and effortlessly sliding it onto his hard cock.
“Hey,” Peter hummed, “Pretty girl, I want you to tell me if it hurts okay? If it hurts, we will stop immediately.”
Your eyes opened to meet his, and to any other person- you would look like the most innocent girl in the world, but he knew you better than that. He knew that the innocent look was an act, and he was proven correct by your following words, “Make me hurt.”
Peter grinned, “God you’re hot.”
He didn’t waste any time before gripping your hips and thrusting himself in completely. You screamed his name so loudly that both of you were sure that the entire floor heard you. Of course neither of you cared at that moment. Peter dug his nails into your hips, leaving angry crescent shaped scars on them that he would later kiss as an apology. However, as of right now, he was unapologetic in each of his movements. Each deep thrust, each scratch, each sharp nip of your flesh… Peter did it all.
“Baby I-” that’s all you could get out before being interrupted by your second orgasm.
When you came for the second time, Peter discovered that it felt so much better having you come undone around his cock rather than on his thigh. The feeling added with the way you called him baby…You were in big trouble now. Peter was rushed with another frenzy, flipping you around onto your stomach, lifting you ass into the air by your hips, and slamming into your entrance once more. You crumbled onto the bed, your pussy throbbing against his cock. However, Peter didn’t like you like that, he wanted you upright. So he reached down and grabbed onto your hair, yanking you up onto all fours. He gripped your hair in two parts, using them as leverage to slam your body back into his with each thrust. Stars, fireworks, cannonballs… you saw them all.
“Fuck baby,” Peter groaned, he emptied one handful of hair into the other hand and used his now-empty hand to turn your head, kissing you deeply. You tried kissing back, but the angle was too awkward and you couldn’t stop the moans from filling the room. Peter lowered his hand, using it instead to choke you once more. He would use his grip on your throat just like he used your hair, causing him to go deeper and deeper into you.
“Peter I can’t,” you struggled. You were so close again and you weren’t sure how much longer you could take this. You told him to hurt you, not wreck you. Hopefully you wouldn’t have to go on a mission for a few days because you’re not entirely sure that you would be able to walk.
Peter understood you though, but he was far from finished with you. He reached his hand around your waist and began to circle your clit once more, overstimulating your body. Peter felt as you began to shake, coming so close to your orgasm that you could almost taste it.
“Not yet, princess,” Peter growled.
A breathy whimper escaped your lips at his words, you didn’t know how long you could keep it from coming. Peter was hitting every good spot and you were on the edge of spilling over.
“Peter please,” you cried, your hands grasping onto the pillow on his bed, submerging your face in it.
“I said not yet,” he chastised, his hand coming down on your ass as quick as lightning. A sharp moan filled the room as his hand print settled on your ass cheek. Peter flipped you over once more, wanting to see your face as you come undone.
“Now?” you begged him, tears brimming your eyes.
“Cum for me, princess,” he instructed. Your walls came undone around him as he spilled into the condom. You felt him twitching inside you as he messily tried to ride out each of your highs. Whenever both of you came down, he pulled out of you gently and tied the condom, tossing it into the bin. Peter picked up the nearest blanket and wrapped the two of you in it. He watched you as you cuddled closer to him, a content smile on your pretty face.
“I know it’s a bit late to ask this,” Peter whispered to you, gently brushing strands of hair out of your face, “but will you go on a date with me?”
You smiled up at him, taking in his perfect features once more before nodding, “But don’t be mistaken… I don’t kiss on the first date.”
DO NOT REPOST ON ALTERNATIVE SITES UNLESS YOU WANT ME TO SPAM EVERY LAST ACCOUNT YOU OWN- PLUS YA MOMMAS. I STG.
