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.”
You and Peter are seen as the embodiment of true love
what you two have is real and solid. It’s clear that you and Peter will only ever lead each other in the right direction
your friends believe in you two together, because of how strongly you and Peter believe in each other
you are each other’s biggest cheerleaders, publicly and privately
you are Peter’s soothing presence, you two know each other like the backs of your own hands. You understand what the other needs, not just what they want
He’s your motivator, Peter’s tenacity drives you to challenge and have more faith in yourself
Peter balances you out, or more so, he’ll be decisive when you can’t
‘Okay so Peter,’ you call out, raising two color cards in front of you, ‘which do we like better cloud white or Chantilly lace for my room’
‘I think they’re both white’
‘Peter, you literally have like super sight or whatever, you of all people should see the difference’
‘they’re all blending at this point babe. Here,’ he pulls out anther paint card, ‘this looks the most white’
‘super white, really?’ you huff, ‘Peter I know this is your own personal hospital, but I don’t want to have it feel like one’
‘okay then cloud white. I like the cloud white more’
letting a beat pass, you decide, ‘okay so Chantilly it is’
groans
Peter is your ride or die, you both are fiercely loyal and there’s nothing in the world that would stop you from being each other’s protectors
one of Peter’s favorite things about you is how real you are. He knows that your compliment are the most genuine, which makes him fall in love with you x10 more
‘hey Peter,’ interrupting the comfortable silence shared between you two on your walk home
‘hmm’
‘nothing, I just wanted to thank you because you just make me so happy. Honestly, you’re one of my favorite parts of my day, and not just when you’re saving the world, but just you. My Peter Parker.’
‘I love you too Y/N. I wouldn’t be the same without you, because you are just absolute gold’
there’s never a dull moment with Peter, part of it being you’re both down to try anything once, from swinging from building to building, ax throwing to baking macarons
being with Peter entails a relationship full of firsts, vigor, and love
A/N wow two posts in two days lmao. if you couldn’t tell I’m a libra and i am way too indecisive. hope y’all liked it and lmk what you think!
You always found Peter easy to talk to and vice versa
your relationship with Peter is like a tree, fragile at first, but you both learn to evolve together, to understand and appreciate each other’s quirks
you grew to be quick to recognize his telltale signs of anger, the way he digs his thumb into his pointer finger, finding that just holding his hand will easily calm him down
or when you grow anxious, you over gesticulate while you speak, he’ll then move to rub your back and give you a grounding point
Peter brings the spontaneity out of you, going to uptown Manhattan for lunch and skipping your last two periods, or taking a random subway to a random stop to determine your guys’ adventure for the day
‘Peter why don’t you pick a place’
‘because that would be no fun’
‘says who’
‘says me, now close your eyes and point,’ he directs while sitting cross-legged on his living room floor, unraveling a map of the city
‘fine’ you sigh before pointing to downtown Brooklyn, ‘so now what’
‘now, my little superhero, that we are gonna take a couple of trains to head to,’ he read off the map, ‘Albee Square - oh perfect I know the best little food hall there’
‘but how-’
‘doesn’tmatter’
you remind Peter to be a little more structured, and with your help, he’s a little less of a bumbling mess as he used to be
as in he’s lost only two backpacks this month compared to normally losing five
you encourage Peter to be better, to care deeper and feel more passionately. your selfishness comes second to none, even to the web-slinger
Peter’s your personal cheerleader, your biggest hype man, and even on your darkest days - he can bring a smile to your face
Peter’s the type of guy who will pull out all the stops for you, just to see a glimmer of your smile
‘Peter what are you doing,’ you giggle as you trail behind him
‘just wait,’ he says leading you into an empty movie theater
on the big screen starts (your favorite movie) and in the very middle there’s an assortment of blankets and your favorite snacks
‘Peter - I- how did you pull this off?’
‘Had Spider-Man,’ he winks, ‘return a favor. He must’ve pulled a few strings with the theater’
‘but why’
‘because you’ve had a hard week, and I just- I just wanted to do something nice for you’
you, you’re more into the day to day things - walking Peter off to where he starts patrol, getting breakfast and a coffee Saturday mornings before heading over to his, the little things that build up, because you and Peter are here for the long haul
A/N: two posts in a day? might even finish this zodiac series by next week if I actually try lmao, lmk what y’all think, like, comment etc. much love
you didn’t believe in love at first sight, of course until you met Peter Parker
Everything about being with Peter felt so intense, so when you fell in love, you fell hard
being with him is so exhilarating, everything about him lights you up from the inside out
from his electrifying touch to the fire you feel each time he simply says Y/N
you were drawn to him, and how he captured the attention of all of Queens, but he was only enamored with you
he may be an avenger, but he’s the one that keeps you grounded and steady
because sometimes you can get your head stuck in the clouds, with plans often bigger than your bank account
but he reminds you of the beauty in your reality
‘peter, can I take off the blindfold yet’
‘just a few more steps’
‘okay we’re here’
as you take off your blindfold, you find yourself in the middle of a park at 11 PM. In front of you, a lofty weeping willow lit up in fairy lights with a picnic basket and a stack of blankets to meet you at the base
‘I’m so confused’
laughing, he brings you closer to sit you down at the trunk, under all the lights, ‘well you’ve always talked about stargazing in the Atacama desert in Chile. I thought for your birthday, I’d bring the stars to you’
one of Peter’s best qualities is his heart. His love doesn’t stop at just his friends and family, but it includes his city
as Peter suits up, getting ready to swing out of your room, he catches your gaze from across the room in the reflection of the window
‘why do you do that’
‘do what’
‘you know,’ he says rosy-cheeked as he turns back to face you, ‘this whole staring thing’
laughing, you close the gap between you two and wrap your arms around his shoulders, ‘what staring thing’
‘like I have the whole world in my hands’
‘maybe it’s because you do, and I couldn’t be prouder. You’re going out there everyday, rain, snow, or shine, protecting a city that doesn’t care to remember your name. You, Peter, are willing to come home broken and battered for strangers,’ you say in awe, tucking a tuft of hair behind his ear as he grows redder than his suit, ‘so yeah I like to stare, take in all that is you with some hope that just a fraction of your goodness rubs off’
you both are a little too impulsive for your own good, getting you and Peter stuck in some tricky, and completely avoidable, situations
but your adventures together, no matter how dumb or reckless, bring the best memories that you couldn’t trade for the world
Requested by a few people but like two years ago when I first started this series so I won’t bother to tag them lmao
A/N: this is my first (writing) post in two years and idk man it’s weird to be back,
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 ❤️
Could I Find Homeland In You? (Peter Parker One Shot)
Summary: based on the following nonnie’s lovely prompt - Can you do a TASM!Peter x fem!reader prompt where they are childhood besties but Peter kinda starts crushing on Gwen but then after he approaches her she turns him down and the reader comforts him until he finally realizes he loves her? Kinda gets angsty when Peter tells her about Gwen bc she has also had feelings for him since forever but refuses to acknowledge them. Best friends to lovers kinda trope… loads of fluff?
hope you enjoy this my sweet nonnie <3
Pairings: TASM!Peter Parker x Reader
Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, italicised words between dividers are past moments between peter and the reader. This is non canon compliant. Peter, Reader and Gwen are in university.
Don’t look at them, don’t look at them. You chant to yourself, but your eyes do fixate, on his warm grin, bright brown eyes full of mirth. Then you gaze at the person making him laugh, Gwen.
Your heart sinks, you look back down at your notebook, ideas messily strewn across the pages. Lines crossed by ink but not you.
It isn’t that you dislike her, she is a really great person, you admire her work and she is always sweet to you.
It’s just Peter parker is completely taken by her, he hasn’t told you, his childhood best friend yet about how he feels but you can see it as clear as day. Peter blushing when he speaks to Gwen or about her, longingly looking at her when she walks past the two of you.
He doesn’t need to tell you what you already know.
You just wish he would look at you that way.
Because you look at him that way but he never finds your eyes.
“Do you want to continue this later? I’m kind of tired.” You ask the remaining members of the chemistry group project, your mood souring as Peter shifts closer to Gwen, reading the contents on her laptop over her shoulder. her temple resting against his jaw.
Your mind flashes to last week when the two of you were watching the latest episode of Dynasty, that was how you both were, cuddled up the laptop resting on the makeshift pillow stand.
You shake out of the memory looking at your group,
“Yeah.” They agree, you grab your scarce materials, shuffling out the door of the open area, it reverberates a clang upon shutting.
Peter looks up after a while, from the yearbook spread on Gwen’s screen, eyes scanning the area. His eyebrows furrow noticing your absence.
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.
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.
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.
songs: crush - tessa violet, brakelights - omar apollo
male reader x peter parker
sorry this is so short! (about 400 words)
Today was sunny- well, the afternoon was. After a long night and morning of gloomy weather with rain, the sun peeking through the dark clouds felt surreal yet appreciated.
Either of you had one earplug leading up from Peter’s phone in his back pocket hanging over your ear, humming out some hiphop, before switching over to one of the many love songs on Peter’s spotify. Averting your now flushed feeling face, you glanced across the street to see a young woman and man walking hand in hand and while she stared ahead, he just followed her, looking at her with love and trust he could feel from the other side of a four lane road.
When you turned to look back, just avoiding walking into a street sign by the tug of Peter’s hand on your sleeve, you noticed his pink cheeks. Ones that he attempted to hide same as you, looking away as well, for just a second.
“Wait, I need some raspberries for my mom” you spoke up, taking a turn into a narrower street and ending up in front of the toko, which Peter quietly follows you into.
You pulled a small kart behind you, with one fucked up wheel that dragged down the off white tiles of the offbeat, yet at home feeling store.
“Oh, hell yes” You heard Peter whisper-yell out and jog up to you, dropping two bottles of coconut lemon water into the basket, followed by chocolate crisps.
“You’re paying, hungry motherfucker” You laugh, grabbing a bag of pretzels and adding it.
“Blame me for being hungry?” Peter retorts.
“I blame you for something else”
Peter’s hand gently grabs ahold of your free arm and stops you, looking you deep into the eyes in a way that makes your knees weak.
“This detention is just as much your fault as it is mine” the boy says in a serious voice, before the both of you crack up laughing, leaning up against Peter in your fit in the aisle.
“You’re a fucking idiot, Parker” you sigh, noticing his hand is still on your arm. It slides down your forearm, up to your wrist, where he looks up to meet your eyes.
It’s a look of insurity, hesitation and regret, before you move his hand down with your other one, into yours, and your finger intertwine.
Peter’s lip quivers, before something in him says fuck it and he straightens his back, leaning over to yours and his lips meeting yours.
Requested: no Published: January 2nd, 2022 Pairing: Established tasm!Peter Parker x Reader Prompt(s): none Warning(s): none Word count: 2.3k Author’s note: My obsession continues. I’m having waay too much with his character. Also Trixie!
While at it please read my “Way Too Far From Home” one shot because it does not want to appear in the tags no matter how many times I repost it.
“How was school today?”
You stopped fiddling with the asparagus in the corner of your plate. Your mother’s cheerful voice had you reaching for your cup of water if only to give work to your mouth, so you didn’t have to engage. It needed ice cubes, the water, because room temperature with steak for dinner was not a good choice. Still, you downed it because it meant no immediate answer was needed.
Placing the high glass back on the table, you managed an awkward smile and said, “Good.”
Because it was just that.
Good.
Nothing new, nothing special. Only grades and exams and a shit ton of assignments.
“Just good?” She enquired innocently, cutting her steak delicately.
“The steak’s nice,” you said instead. Your mother’s eyes went ablaze at the lack of response, and just as she opened her mouth to demand intimate detail about how your day went, your younger sister jumped out of her seat and pointed at the TV.
“Look mom! Spider-Man!”
“Trixie-” Your mother began to tell her to stay put, but with no avail.
The child of destruction had already leaped for the sofa, throwing herself over the armrest to get a better view of the TV. She rolled over twice between the fluffy blanket before she was happily settled in to watch…
The news.
Your heart leaped in your chest.
But your mother was watching you.
Don’t show it. Don’t show it.
Don’t give her a reason to suspect. Don’t let her know you’re interested (rightfully so) in what had happened to the masked hero. Especially not for the sole reason that it will give her ammo.
The woman had her suspicions.
“HE’S BLEEDING! OH MY GOOD MOM–”
Your eyes widened ever so slightly, and you dug into your mashed potatoes like a lunatic.
“Several eyewitnesses have confirmed what many already knew. Spider-Man had fallen down thirty stories and is currently…”
“How awful,” your mother mused, cradling the wine glass in her hand. She never had a thing for peace makers that weren’t wearing a badge, “Doesn’t Peter know him?”
Should have just given it to me straight, you thought. “No, Peter just takes pictures of him.”
“Just pictures?”
“Yeah?”
“You sure?”
You gave her a look, “I’m pretty sure I would know if my boyfriend was friends with Spider-Man.”
“Not just friends but,” she began conspiratorially, but waved a hand. “Never mind.”
Then, just as fate smiled your way and your mother began succumbing to the wine and lack of interest in your geeky boyfriend (for who she did not know just fell thirty stories!) a sound so close to a falling table reasoned in the hallway.
Your room.
Not the hallway.
“What was that?”
The steak turned ashen in your mouth.
Your little sister felt as though it was her duty to pipe in from the couch, “Maybe there’s someb-”
“A lamp!” You blurted out with vehemence, “The white one from Ikea. I must have left the window open. I should probably-”
You were already running across the living room. “Y/N! Come back here this instant!”
Trixie was cackling on her spot as if shedidn’t leap off the dining table herself. “Zero manners.” You leaned into her face to say the words and snatched the pillow beneath her, ruining her tangled bliss.
“Hey!”
You took two stairs at the time, barging through your room as if you knew a burglar was in there. Scanning the desk, on which the white lamp laid undisturbed, you turned to the beanbag in the corner.
Nothing.
Then the bed.
First thing you said was, “The sheets!”
“What?” Asked Peter groggily, as if he had slept nicely before you came raging through. He twisted in his Spandex suit to release pressure on the silk sheet you were so desperately trying to get away from him. “Your boyfriend’s bleeding and you’re worried about sheets?”
“They’re silk,” you said as if it answered everything, gathering the flowery pattern that kept slipping away. “And you’ll heal.”
He brought out a hand and webs shot out, grasping your wrist and pulling you to the bed when you almost teleported to the other side of the room. Peter was so out of it he just nuzzled himself against your fallen body and murmured an almost drunken, “You smell soo nice babe.”
“Stop it,” you were still hugging the sheets in your arms, willing yourself not give him any attention. You were so angry you could bite his ear clean off.
Stupid invasive thoughts.
“Y/N? Who are you talking to?” Your mother’s voice hollered from downstairs.
Fearing she would trek her merry way upstairs and find you in bed with a bloodied red and blue man (who still wore his mask), you released the sheets and grabbed Peter’s wrist. You lead the dangly muscle clad arm to the direction of the door handle, “Shoot.”
“What?” He mumbled in your neck, sending tingles running.
“Just…” You tried to ignore his warm breath, “Just shoot your webs Peter for the love of everything–”
Pop.
The door handle became a sticky mess, connected to the wall and door by unbreakable web. You sighed in relief and fell back against the pillow. It was silk too, but you didn’t have time to strip it clean. “I need to see those wounds.”
He groaned.
“I’m serious Peter,” you told him. “Take off your shirt. Or suit. Or whatever. Now.”
“So bossy.”
You snatched off his mask yourself, revealing a Peter Parker with nasty cuts all over his face. Upon seeing the look on your face, he brought his bloodied lip out in an innocent, broad smile as his cheek rested squished on your pillow. Blood trailed his face like tears.
“Let me get the aid kit,” you announced. “Clothes are coming off. Now.”
“Yes ma'am,” he smiled, muttering a happy, “Don’t have to tell me twice.”
The aid kit was placed underneath your desk, settled in a big shoebox that once housed knee-high boots but had to give up the space in order for the emergency kit to settle in. “You have an aid kit in your room?”
You felt his eyes on your bottom as you pushed out the white leather chair and crouched beneath the big desk, half expecting to rattle your head against it because of his watchful eyes. His footsteps creaked the laminate flooring as he fought his suit, hopping from one foot to another. “Be quiet!” You said and retrieved the kit. “And yes, I do have an emergency kit in my room because you keep coming to me injured! Now take off the suit.”
“I’m trying,” Peter said beneath the suit that now clawed at his face, acting as a mask when it wasn’t. “I really am babe.” He added when he felt your own fingers attempting to grasp his suit. Every time you pinched a spot, the skintight cloth found it rebellious to slip right through.
“How do you even get this thing off?” You asked him, breathless at the lack of sudden air.
“Lots of practice.” He replied helpfully, his body unmoving as he allowed you to dot all over him. You found a good grasping spot just above his collarbone and yanked, feeling the material finally work alongside you. “And a vicious girlfriend. Ow.”
When at last the suit fell apart, you exhaled in relief but blanched at the sight of his chest.
He kissed your worried face away. “I’m fine.”
“No you’re not,” you stated, pushed him down on the bed.
“Ooohkinky.”
“Shut up,” you couldn’t help but laugh, reaching for the aid kit. “You fell down thirty stories.”
“You saw?”
“No,” you shook your head grimly, settling his head on your lap. “I heard.On the news.”
He visibly cringed, no doubt feeling terrible that you had to found out that way. Was he in the wrong for not telling you that his today’s adventure was probably going to end with him in pain? Yeah, probably, he thought.
“Mom’s been a pain in my butt though,” you told him with fake chirpiness, dabbing the antiseptic on his nose. He seethed but said nothing, being an obedient boyfriend after putting you in such a frenzy. “Almost told her that the punk she calls Spider-Man might very well be her son-in-law. God she’s infuriating.”
Peter smiled big and wide, having heard nothing of what you said save for that one label.
“And Trix?” You began droning on, “It’s like she wants mom to know. Ever since youtold her who you were…”
Peter liked your sister. Liked the filterless kid with all his might. Even the purple temporary color in her hair that she always begged you put on her. He thought it was cute that she already had such a strong personality. Smart mouth and dye in her hair.
And his biggest fan.
Then a knock on the door. Your head whipped mid wound cleaning.
“It’s Trix,” Peter supplied.
You threw a bandage at the door. It didn’t make it farther than Peter’s knee. “Go away!”
“Please!”
Throwing Peter’s head off your lap (gently) you stood up and brushed the creases off your pants. His blood blended with your dark shirt, so you were less worried about traumatizing your sister. You took a step toward the door before Peter pulled you to him. “What are you doing?” You whisper-shouted, careful not to touch his injuries after you landed on top of him.
He mouthed one word. Kiss.
“What for?”
Peter rolled his eyes, “To make it better. It’s a condition.”
“Oh? A condition?” You looked him in the eyes, tilting your head. “You’re setting up contidions?”
“It’s in the contract,” he supplied, running a hand beneath your loose shirt. “Y'know, no big deal.”
“Really? No big deal?”
“Mhmm.”
You were about to make his wish come true when he raised his head and stole one for himself. Then another. And another. “Peter…” You said in between each kiss, giddy despite the fact worry cruised through your veins. “You’re impossible.”
“I know,” he replied proudly and settled back, his torso naked for all to see. Not wanting to traumatize your sister, you at last grabbed the silken material you so desperately tried to save and threw it on him.
“Behave,” you pointed a finger, grabbed scissors off the desk and yanked them into the web. “I believe it’s in the contract.”
“No it’s not.”
“Oh I think it is,” you told him with a light smirk, “It’s under mutuality of obligation. Both parties agree that Peter Parker must listen to his girlfriend at all times,” you pointed at yourself with the scissors. “Aka me.”
His chuckle was the last thing heard before the web broke apart and a small body of a child barreled through, ear first and then the rest of her body following.
“Were you eavesdropping?” You asked your sister after grabbing her by the elbow to prevent her fall.
Trxie fixed you a stare, “No I wasn’t.”
“Yes, you were,” you and Peter said at the same time.
Her jaw went slack, “Peter!”
You rolled your eyes, shutting the door after peering into the hallway in search for your mother. “Great now we have an audience.” You said after shutting it.
“How are you feeling?” Trixie asked him, ignoring you. “I saw you on TV.”
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine Trix,” he told her banged up. “No big deal.”
“I knew it,” she said, proud to have guessed right. If only she saw what lay beneath the sheet her hero was covered with. Trixie turned to you, “Mom’s sleeping.”
“Hallelujah.”
“So, Trix,” Peter tried to sound casual as you leaned against the table with your hip, daring him with your eyes to tell her how much it hurt. “H-how’s it going?”
She scooted closer to his head, and he grunted in pain, masking the action by coughing. Your eyebrows reached your hairline.
“Good,” Trixie’s hair fell beside his. “How are you doing?”
“Oh,” he sounded surprised. “I-I’m doing good Trix. Doin’ realgood.”
“Then why’d you fall down thirty stories?”
You couldn’t help but laugh.
“I saw everything,” she announced proudly, twisting until her cheek lay in her palm, elbow digging into the bed and everything. Peter, who still rested on his back looked at her from the corner of his eye. “Somebody filmed you and they played it on the news. It was in slow motion and everything.”
“You probably shouldn’t have seen that,” Peter told her. “Too graphic.”
“So what? I can take it.”
“You’re eight Trixie.”
“And you’re eighteen and can’t even do your job right.”
“O-kay, Trix,” you came in between, grabbing her leg and yanking her toward you. “That’s enough. Thank you for bruising his ego.”
“Yeah, thanks Trix.” Peter added, suddenly sour.
“No problem,” she said, confused as to why she was unrightfully being kicked out but still proud to receive thank yous.
“Yep,” you lead her by the shoulders, “Thanks for the audience kid.”
Just as you were about to close to door in her face did she announce, “Mom said you’re driving me to school tomorrow.”
“Sure,” you said, done with dealing with her. “Might even let Peter swing you there if you leave me alone.”
Her eyes sparkled, “You promise?”
She already had a finger out. You rolled your eyes and looped your pinky through hers. “Now leave us alone.”
“Done!” She skedaddled back to where she came from.
“Impossible,” you muttered after her and closed the door. “Can’t a woman have any peace-”
Peter suddenly stood incredibly close to you, some of his wounds already healed. “Thanks for the help Y/N but I really need to make my payment.”
“It’s in the contract?” You asked him, watching him nod eagerly. “All right then. Come and collect.”
He swooped in and kissed you long, hard and good.
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Requested: no Published: December 31st, 2021 Pairing: Established Peter Parker x Reader Prompt(s): none Warning(s): none Word count: 2k Author’s note: I’m obsessing over Andrew’s Spidey which is why I need to get all these ideas out of my system
You took a long look around yourself, catching breath with immense difficulty while among the scraper high building tops of the New York city skyline. Here at the peak, there was nothing but the East River and tinted windows to look at while your hair constantly whipped in your face. Your knees shook as you gripped the phone, crouching on the metal platform while you were cuffed against its railing. You had twisted and turned until your phone had somehow managed to fall to your ear.
“I, um,” you licked your dry lips and looked up and over your shoulder as if the flying man that had abducted you would show up and strangle you for good. Then turned to look ahead, whispering to not look down constantly into the dry air. The gaps in the platform were taunting as they revealed the bare bottom of the finest New York pavement. The pedestrians you knew were walking aimlessly over the very spot that could very well be your death bed should everything fall from beneath your sneaker clad feet. “Empire State Building?”
“How high?”
“Top high?”
“I’m on my way.”
The line went dead but you still kept the phone close to your ear as if his voice might penetrate through it again and give you the comfort you needed to not fall apart under preassure.
He was on his way, you kept telling yourself, picturing him swinging through the streets of New York to get you.
You pocketed the phone in your back pocket with a stifled groan, cursing at the sheer complexity of your situation while you stood on shaky feet with hands behind your back that howled in uncomfortable pain. Being snatched from a freaking restaurant was not on your days agenda. Being carried all the way to the top of Empire State and then leftthere, stranded and shaking, to fend for yourself while bound.
Thank goodness your data plan was solid.
Expensive, but solid.
The hairs on your neck rose, and you whipped your head around to look at the metal clad man before you. He had an eye missing, and now steel sat in its place, a result of whatever experiment he had done to himself to accomplish this new look. His hands shook with vibration, consequence of so much power brewing in them while his healthy russet eye beheld you there, tied and unmoving and so close to death. So close to falling to your demise.
You dared not to think about it.
“Hey there professor,” you willed your voice into cheerfulness, as you always did when you spoke to the man in class. Organic chemistry, he was teaching, and yet the only chemistry in his attire was the bright yellow liquid swimming in tubes attached to his arms. “How…how’s it going?”
He seethed and took a step closer. Dr. Edward Carlson, infamously known campus wide as Professor Combustion. Teaching at Columbia University. Now looking like a war criminal.
As if he heard your thoughts, fire escaped his fist.
Combustion indeed.
“Y/N,” you nodded against his words, stretching your lips into a humorless smile.
“That’s me,” you said in a sing-song voice, throwing a look at one of the building tops, eager to see a blotch of red and blue swinging your way.
You remember Peter’s words.
“Rule number one,” Peter told you, holding out a finger with his free hand. You both walked hand in hand through Columbia’s garden. “Stall.”
“Stall?” You repeated.
“Yeah,” he said simply, as if he said everything that needed to be said with just that one word had been revealed. “Like, if someone gets to you – which I will never let happen – you need to stall until I get there.”
“Stall with what? Pop culture random facts?”
Peter laughed, stumbling in his steps and halting you as well. You laughed lightly, “What?”
He shook his head and with a grin pulled you to him. “You’re adorable.”
“And deadly,” you added, feigning anger as you looked at him through your eyelashes, puffing out your cheeks while at it.
Peter’s hand cupped your cheek until you stood on your toes to let him kiss you. It was slow and steady, the kiss, filling you with warmth until your toes curled in your shoes. “You’re so deadly even I’m scared of you. And I’m Spiderman.”
“Hey professor,” you called out over your shoulder, listening to the scratching of metal against metal as he twisted and turned forward to assess you. “Right so…I…I don’t know why you’re doing this. Honestly sir, I’ve done nothing wrong. I mean, I did…but not to you sir. Like I’ve never done anything to-”
“Silence!”
Your bones stilled, but you pushed harder when you heard him walk away from you. When the sound of metal against metal became too far away. When you looked over your shoulder to see him preparing to ascend. To wreak havoc. “D-did you know sir,” you said with a light shout, and turned to the East River before his eyes could meet your own. “That they use real organs in Grey’s Anatomy. Like they’re actually real. Not real people organs per se, b-but like cow and stuff. I-I don’t know if they actually kill the cows – I mean I hope not – but like…fun fact! I know how much you love the show sir.”
Your laugh was pathetically weak.
But it came through.
“Really?”
Your heart galloped in your chest in a winning spirit. “Yes! Yes sir! One hundred percent legit. Actually-”
Awhoosh reasoned through the air, whipping your hair to the left and cutting off another pop culture reference. You released puffs of air to push the hair off your nose and eyes, hands tied behind your back and all. You vaguely heard Edward Carlson grunt before something detached itself from the Empire State building and fell right to the bottom that was so very far away. Your platform got the end of it, breaking and bending until you almost fell off.
You closed your eyes, feeling tears gather behind. Time passed where only the sound of falling debris made its way to your ears.
Then hands.
Strong hands grasping your shoulders and the metal that bounded you to the platform. “Peter?”
You watched his mask as he pushed his whole body against you, shielding you from the view you grew accustomed to. It was like a weight dropped from your chest now that there was something between you and the undeniable fear of falling. Peter wrapped his arms around your waist and arms, caging you in, protecting you as your chin rested on his shoulder and he grabbed the cuffs with both hands and finally ripped them apart.
Your sore wrists were freed, and you almost fell to your face.
Peter cupped your face in his hands, and barely, just barely could you make out the face beneath the mask. The familiar boy you adored. If only you hadn’t been so distracted by the howling wind and lack of air, perhaps then you could have seen the raging fear in his face. Peter pushed your hair from your face, “Ready?”
You nodded, “Yeah.”
Your voice was barely audible as you wrapped an arm around his shoulder, then another around his other. Legs came next and you made them a solid force around his waist. He gripped your thighs as he settled you better against him and even gave your bum a few taps.
You didn’t realize how you had deflated in relief upon his casual behavior. “Ready? Count for me.”
Taking a deep breath, you tightened your grip on him and said, “One-”
He leaped off the building. You didn’t wait until three, you recall screaming in his ear like a banshee, holding him in an unyielding grip as webs shot out of his wrists, attaching themselves to edifices, windows and rooftops and everything else you couldn’t catch under the speed.
“Where do you wanna go?” Peter asked you mid jump, holding your waist with one hand.
“Where do-” You breathed, “Idon'tknow! Home?”
“Home it is.” He took a sharp turn into a street, then slowly he began lowering the acceleration, easing his swings as you made your merry way to the familiar building. You watched the sidewalk beneath you.
“Y/N?”
“José?” You gaped at the elderly man that sat on the stairs in front of your building. He turned to stand up and open the door for you to walk through, but Peter was quicker than José was – good intentions and all – scaling the lamppost as he said cheerfully, “Thanks José but we’re gonna take the other way.”
“What other way? There is no other way.” You distantly heard the man say. Webs shot out to a balcony, then another one, and another until at last Peter grabbed your balcony and hauled you both over it. There you were, on the safety of your balcony and nowhere near Empire State Building.
You still didn’t let go.
Peter hugged your thighs with his arms and eased. “You can let go now.”
You shook your head and hugged him closer.
Your boyfriend sighed in good humor and asked, patting your backside. “Keys?”
“It’s unlocked,” you muttered into his shoulder.
You could feel him shake his head as he began walking toward the balcony door. He jiggled the lock and found it true to your words, unlocked. “You should start locking your doors Y/N.”
“Okay,” was all you said.
Peter’s strides toward your quaint, clustered kitchen were long and powerful. He settled you onto the counter with ease and pulled his mask off with a tug. “What was that?” You asked him, remembering how the metal wrapped the man like a gift, the sound it made, how fearful it made you be. “What happened to him?”
Peter came back from your bathroom with a first aid kit and only then did you realize that there was blood running down your temple. It pounded, the pain seizing you with every move of your head. You faltered when he pulled out bandages and antiseptic wipes and saw that he didn’t hesitate when ripping open the latter. “I don’t know,” he replied softly and pressed the wipe against the wound without a warning. Hissing, you willed your body not to move but with no avail. Peter grabbed your jaw softly and held your face so he could clean it, “Take it easy tiger.”
He too had shallow cuts along his face, you noticed from the corner of your eye. “You’re hurt.”
“I’ll heal,” he said simply, which was true and the only reason why you didn’t push further. “But you won’t which is why I gotta take care of you.”
“I can put a bandage on myself, thank you very much.”
Peter chuckled and patted your knee with his hand. You spread them wide so he could fit right between your legs, closing the gap between you so he had better access to the nasty, bloodied cut. Your heart pounded in your chest, but you couldn’t tell if it was from the leftover fear or his near proximity. “There we go,” your boyfriend clicked his tongue when the bandage finally covered the wound. “Good as new.”
“I bet,” you fixed your hair over it so that it wasn’t visible. The shakiness of your hands didn’t go unnoticed. His spidey sense made it easy for him to snatch your hands in his before you could pull them away.
“You’re shaking,” he observed, his thumbs brushing against your bloodied knuckles.
“Yeah, well,” you put on a bravado, “It’s not every day you’re tied up at the top of the Empire State building and left stranded.”
Despite the lightness in your tone, Peter visibly cringed. You leaned forward and kissed him. “It’s not your fault.”
“I should’ve gotten there sooner…”
“It’s okay Peter really, I’mokay.” You said softly and embraced him long and steady, your arms through his.
He melted into your touch like butter.
It was blissful seconds before you couldn’t help yourself, “You stink.”
“I do?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh no.”
“You need to take a shower.”
His eyes filled with mischief, “Wanna help?”
Note: If you enjoyed reading this fic do check out my other work by clicking on one of my masterlist links. If it’s not a bother leave a like, comment and/or reblog. It gives me motivation and lets me know that you liked what I wrote. <3
If you would perhaps want to read some of my work earlier, you can check out my AO3profile, I’ll always make sure to tell you guys when a fic is posted on there in advance!
Lastly, if you wish to be tagged under any of my future fics go to my tag list! I no longer take requests through ask, dm, comments anymore. Once on my tag list post you’ll find a link to a Google Form that you have to fill out in order for your request to be valid! x
Requested:no Published: December 31st, 2021 Pairing:Established Peter Parker x Reader Prompt(s):none Warning(s):just watch out if you haven’t seen the movie because this has majorspoilers Word count: 1.7k Author’s note:Lol this fic is sooo chaotic and I love it! Literally watched this movie two hours ago and am still in such shock. Anyhow I binged Andrew’s Spiderman movies in preparation for my cinema outing and fell in love with him. This is just a way for me to get it out of my system. The convo is all movie accurate because believe it or not I was able to find a cam version somewhere on the internet. ENJOY!
“How do I know Peter?” You repeated, “Peter Parker?”
Hands shaking against the wooden chair you were holding; you watched the two teenagers before you. One was curly haired and skinny, with mistrust swirling in her dark eyes. Obviously, she was overwhelmed by yourself, but she didn’t dare show it. MJ was her name. And the boy beside her, with a bizarre ring adorning half his hand and an emotionally very expressive face showed just how your presence messed with his coherence. How every step you took had him glancing at his grandma as if he might grab her and run away to safety. That was Ned.
The question was left unanswered in the pregnant silence, and the air buzzed with tension. You looked from one figure to the other, eyebrows rising more and more as time passed and no one spoke. The girl’s nostrils flared as she beheld you from the other side of the table, acting as if the wood was a protective barrier between her and the unknown.
Your bubble snapped when she reached for a fork on the table. “All right! All right!”
You gave them your palms, missing only a white flag to symbolize truce. “Peter…” You looked at them. Looked at them good. “Peter Parker…” His name was emphasized slowly, stretched out by your mouth so there was no way in hell they could mistake him. “Is my boyfriend.”
They gaped.
The girl ignored the cutlery and grabbed a bread roll instead, chucking it at your head.
She missed but barely. “What the hell was that for?!”
“For lying!” Ned said in her name and grabbed one for himself.
“No! No, no, no, no!”
He halted.
“I swear I’m not lying!” Why would you be lying? There was no reason to hide the fact that Peter Parker lived and breathed for you. That just yesterday, he had flowers waiting in his hands as he took you out to dinner. That a week ago, he took you swinging with him across New York.
“And why should we believe you?” MJ asked defensively. Your words bothered her a lot more than she let on. “You’re the one that attacked us in the middle of the freaking street!”
“Attacked?!” Your face was blanched white by shock, “Attacked? I-I didn't…”
“No, you attacked us.” Said the girl, shoving an accusing finger in your general direction. “L-like a lunatic!”
“Lunatic?” You repeated, bewildered. Then sighed in frustration, remembering at last how you had chased them half a block upon hearing them speak of Peter. One sentence with Peter Parker and Spiderman in it had you swinging at them. Because one moment you were in your room, at home and safe and then the next…
It felt as if you had entered a whole new world. Fear was undeniable.
“We know you’re lying.”
“What?”
Ned nodded proudly, his golden ring shining under the faint light. “Yeah, and you know how? You know how we know?”
You dared not to ask.
“BecausePeter,” he said the name as if he knew him as well as he did himself which couldn’t be possible because your boyfriend doesn’t have many friends that you don’t know. He doesn’t have many friends to begin with. “Is herboyfriend.”
Your mouth fell open.
Peter…
Peter is…
“―cheating on me?!”
You grabbed a bread roll on pure instinct and threw it at MJ. She grabbed another one and would have thrown it right back had the boy not grabbed her by the shoulder, acting as a buffer. “Lets all just take a deep breath.”
Deep breath your ass. You just found out your boyfriend was cheating on you in your least favorite sweater and jeans.
You were absolutely, positively feral.
“Peter told us to wait,” he quickly rattled on, nodding toward an ancient looking square frame of a sort. Your eyes followed his, albeit with a lot more fear, but still they travelled to the box, assessing and calculating.
“There’s a giant lizard out on the lose,” MJ stated, “I’m not taking any chances Ned. Not anymore. Not while-”
Her sentence lay unanswered. She bit the inside of her cheek and ran a shaky hand over her face as if her friend didn’t just reveal her to be another girlfriend of your boyfriend’s. You on the other hand completely and utterly lost every ounce of sanity. Lizard?
You knew only one lizard in your lifetime.
“Peter told me to wait,” MJ continued on, just now beginning to pace around the table. “But…I’m gonna do it.”
Ned sighed, swaying his hands in the air for emphasis. “I-I just wish…I just wish we could see him.”
Sparks crackled beside you, making you jump three steps back in fear. “What was that?”
“I-I…I don’t know?” Ned said, his answer like a question on its own.
“Ned…” Began MJ, “Do that again.”
He nodded quickly and moved his hands across his face with more emotion, repeating what the words that had just left his mouth. Then, just as the words travelled through the air, sparks lighted up the room, forming a circle. It was as if live electricity bent to the will of nature to comprise a portal for him, to open a pocket in the world you never even thought about. It disappeared, the circle, and the hairs on your neck rose. There was no time for you to fight MJ, or to scream your fear at them.
If they could bring Peter back with a single sentence.
You could strangle him all on your own.
“Just wish we could see Peter,” said Ned at last, forming a circle with his hand. The portal shaped itself until its inner part was a different place completely. An alley of some sort, you managed to make out, empty save for a dark figure that stood in its middle.
Ned’s grandmother gasped behind you.
You willed yourself not to breathe.
“Is that him?” MJ asked, “Peter? Hey Peter?”
Come here, they told him, and you watched the spider-like eyed man point a finger at his chest. His eyes travelled over both Ned and MJ, and it appeared to you that he did not recognize them. That this was something a lot bigger. That the possibility of a mistake could be…
The no doubt Spiderman finally spotted you and his body went absolutely rigid. Then just as you thought he would leave did he sprint toward you with speed that shocked you all. He raced through the open portal and landed himself straight into your arms.
The familiar smell of his skintight cloth filled your nostrils, and the easily recognizable muscular body molded itself against you until you almost lost yourself in the feeling. His strength was enough to make you rise from the ground to fully meet his arms. He even swayed you from side to side in a tight embrace he knew you loved. But then you remembered.
You pushed him off by wiggling and swung your leg at him, hitting his midriff the moment your feet met the floor. Peter jumped back in pure shock. “Ouch Y/N! What the hell?”
MJ and Ned’s mouth fell wide open when the voice that escaped the Spiderman was apparently not what they were looking for. Still, the revelation that had been revealed to you rang in your head like bells. “What the hell?” You repeated, “I’ll show you hell you little cheating weasel―”
Peter took off his mask with a clean tug.
Ned and MJ sprung to action immediately.
“No, no, no!”
“Wait, wait!”
You stopped mid-assault, lightning hard anger cracking in your eyes.
“That’s not Peter,” MJ said quickly, her hands out to calm you from afar.
You scrunched your brows, threw a look at your very-well-could-be-ex-boyfriend to make sure he was there, and looked back as if she were crazy. “What do you mean that’s not Peter?”
“Well―” She cringed at the complexity of the situation. Peter was a silent figure next to you, rubbing his ab clad stomach.
“What MJ’s tryna say is,” Ned quickly cut in. “That's…not her boyfriend.”
“But you justsaid―”
“IknowwhatIsaid!” Her voice was small and panicky. She continued her pacing.
“Y/N…” Peter spoke slowly, as if one word spoken differently was enough to enrage you. He pointed a red finger at them. “Whatever they told you is not true. I am not cheating on you. I would never do that to you, and you know it.”
You didn’t say anything.
“Babe?” He prompted, bringing your attention to him. You took note of his messy hair and almost brought out a hand to run through it.
“Then why did she―”
“I don’t know,” he said, “But I have an idea. You look adorable, by the way.”
You glared at him.
“Strain theory, multidimensional reality, matter displacement…all real?” He asked MJ and Ned.
The pair spoke a slow, incredulous yeah.
“Knew it.” Peter turned back to face you, taking your shaky hands in his gloved ones after he deemed you no threat. “What’s going on?” You asked him, truly fearful.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, and ran a finger across your cheek. “I just know it’s all wrong.”
“Yeah, no shit babe,” you said sarcastically.
Peter laughed and looked over at the two shocked teens. “She really believed you?”
“Yeah, but I mean,” MJ said, “I don’t really blame her. It’s all messed up.”
You nodded in agreement, grabbing hold of Peter’s upper arms tentatively as Ned and MJ focused on closing the portal. “I was so worried about you.” Your fingers tightened around him ever so tightly. “When I couldn’t find you―”
Peter looked as if he had melted right on the spot. He hooked a strong arm around your shoulders and neck and pulled you to him until you were flush against him and his Spandex attire. “I know, I know.”
You inhaled his scent, “What are we going to do?”
His lips grazed the top of your head, “I don’t know. But we’re going to figure it out.”
And you believed him.
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Warnings: Mentions of fire, mentions of anxiety, a tiny little bit of angst I suppose
Summary:When you, an intern for the Daily Bugle, are set out to find the person behind the mask of New York’s Spider-Man, your life turns upside down with secrets, supervillains, and a boy by the name of Peter Parker.
A/N: A spoiler but I promise Harry isn’t the villain this time lmao I do that in like every series but NOT this one for once
Your feet pattered against the pavement, while people and buildings around you became a blur. Your heart thundered in your chest, constricting and burning with every step as you ran towards the disaster after getting out of a taxi. The Brooklyn Bridge was filled with cars and a large fire was spreading after what seems to be some type of semi-truck accident.
Most people, they avoid dangerous situations. They stop and stare, watch whatever disaster is unfolding because it’s human nature. It’s unbelievable and people need to watch to believe it’s happening. But, most people don’t go into the danger zone if they’re not already there. Most people don’t have a death wish. You don’t have a death wish but you have a dream and that dream includes you running around New York and chasing the masked hero by the name of Spider-Man. And where is Spider-Man normally? Around these dangerous, life-threatening situations. So, you go into them, when you can.
A crowd is gathered as you approach and it’s a lot. The mixed voices and sirens, distant yelling, and noises all fade into one clustered sound. It’s all being amplified. Everything clouds together and now it’s not just the running that has your heart racing, but the creeping anxiety.
It’s not something that happens all too often, but it happens. Sometimes, this will just be too much. Sounds, people, movement. It doesn’t really matter and there’s no direct cause that you can even pinpoint. Sensory overload, for you, just happens and maybe today it’s because you’re racing towards another disaster. The idea of running towards something like that is already a bit uneasy, allowing the anxiety to have a perfect little crack to seep right through. But, you do not have time for that. So, you don’t slow down, you keep going.
You tell yourself that if you can focus, it’ll go away. So, you grab your camera from around your neck, gripping the hand hold tight. You reach the barricades where police are making sure people stay put. And that’s when you really see the bridge. It looks like something’s split it nearly in half and it’s only being held together by webs. There are cars still slowly falling into the water but people are running from the bridge, others are being held up by different webs. It seems Spider-Man has been there for a little while already, webbing people up and keeping them safe. It reminds you of the Staten Island ferry just five years prior.
You were just a Sophomore when it had happened but you remember seeing it all over the news. Something strange had torn through the ferry, splitting it in two. Spider-Man had tried to pull the ferry back together and keep it together with webbing but it didn’t work so well and Iron Man saved the day. No one was hurt, luckily, but it was something that stayed with you. Your brother was on the ferry and he could have died but he didn’t because Spider-Man and Iron Man showed up. Now you’re here, watching a bridge being held together by Spider-Man, trying to find out who he is to out him to the world. The universe is funny that way.
You hold your camera to your eye and that’s when you see him. The red and black-suited superhero swings around the bridge saving a little kid before he falls into the water. Your job isn’t to catch Spider-Man catching children and saving them from certain death but you don’t care. You take the pictures anyway because how cool is that? It’s Spider-Man saving a kid. So, you keep your camera on him the entire time, taking pictures and waiting for him to finish.
There’s just a fascination with watching him swing around at speeds that cannot be human. Well, obviously. But, how? That’s something that’s been eating at you since Spider-Man started showing up. What makes him a superhero? How does he stick to buildings? What are his webs exactly? How does he land perfectly fine despite the velocity of his swings? Humans have a closed circulatory system so he shouldn’t be able to just survive swinging like that. But, he does, just like a spider. So, something’s mutated but how? Why? You have a hundred questions and none of them have been answered and by the looks of it, you’ll never get them answered. Instead, you’ll just be taking pictures and hoping you get the shot you need to unmask him.
But, you don’t get lucky today, not that you ever think you’ll get lucky in this, because just as the kid is safe, Spider-Man takes off. It seems like everyone is safe and there are now plenty of first responders on scene so he leaves. And you quickly follow in the direction, quickly apologizing to anyone you bump into while you try to keep up with him, something you know to be completely useless but you’re not a quitter.
The entire time of trying to keep up with Spider-Man, you just think about how nice it would be to fly or have super speed or literally anything but this. Your feet burn with every step and you swear your heart is going to explode any second. It’s just exhausting having to, uselessly, keep up with someone who’s swinging above you and who’s doing it faster than you can run, especially in a busy and crowded city. But you follow him anyway until you lose sight of him.
Your head hangs as you sigh, disappointed but not surprised. Your hand grips your camera, looking at it before you look back to the sky. You roll your neck, bones cracking with every movement. Your shoulders roll and there’s no sign of that hero so what’s left to do? Nothing. This happens every time if you even manage to get to Spider-Man before he leaves. It’s a bit tiring but what else are you supposed to do?
“Y/n?” The sound of a familiar voice pulls you from your thoughts while a smile splits your face.
“Harry? What’re you doing here?” You ask while the tall boy approaches you.
He shrugs. “My dad a thing, had to show up. You know, you would think he would want me focusing on classes but here we are.” Harry rambles once he closes the distance between him and you. “And what are you doing here?” Harry slings an arm around your shoulder while the two of you start walking.
“Spider-Man.” You roll your eyes, the annoyance in your voice evident.
“I take it he’s still a man of mystery?” Harry gives you a cheeky smile before turning his attention in front of you.
“Yep.” You pop the ‘p’. “Where are we going?”
“I’ve got a car waiting, of course.” Harry states as if you should have known better which maybe you should have, Harry never uses public transport or really walks anywhere. “You’d have better luck if you’d just figure out who he was.”
You glare up at him, his green eyes catching the sun just right. “Gee, I hadn’t thought of that, Harry. Where would I be without your expert opinion?” You quip.
Harry shakes his head, the cheeky grin not budging. “If you know, why don’t you do some researching, then?”
“Because there’s what? Eight million people living in New York? Does it sound practical to try to research him?” Your voice is snarky as you look up to him.
“Does it sound practical to chase a superhero around the city?” Harry retorts, getting another glare from you. “Alright, but you know he’s here, you know he’s been in Queens so that narrows it down.”
You pause, keeping up with his long strides. He has a point. Spider-Man showed up in Queens, so he is probably from Queens which narrows down the list of suspects unless Spider-Man went to Queens as a cover-up. So, maybe Harry could be onto something.
“That’s still a lot of people.” You try to argue. “He’s done like one appearance at FEAST.”
Harry pauses, looking to you with a raised brow. So, you have done some research into the spider. “Yeah, because he’s probably local, y/n.” Harry chuckles. “Just, go with me for a second.” Harry sighs. “How old do you think he is? You’re chasing him so surely you have some vague idea at the very least.”
“Uh, probably mid to late twenties based on athleticism if that even really counts? He is a superhero. Captain America was like over a hundred years old.”
“But we’ll go with that because you said you’ve had friends who heard him talk. They all said he sounded your age which would mean you’re right because that was in high school. So, now going from that, he’d be our age now, right?”
“Right,” You nod. “And that means college aged which would also explain why he isn’t normally in Queens unless it’s during breaks. He’s at college.” You add on. “And normally around ESU.”
“See, you’re getting it. You already have your suspect list narrowed down to a few thousand instead of eight million.”
You give him a shy but thankful smile. “I still think it’ll be a lot of work to figure out which student is Spider-Man.”
“If anyone can figure out who Spider-Man is, it’s you.” Harry looks down at you, eyes soft and the cocky smile has turned into something sweet like honey. “Then you can just stalk the poor kid until you catch him either masking up or unmasking himself. JJ will be off your back and you can hang out with me more.” The sweet smile turns large and cocky once more making you roll your eyes.
“Mhm, that’s what I’ll do with my free time.”
“Speaking of, having a party Friday, you coming?”
“So long as Spider-Man doesn’t pull me away.”
“Yes! I will hunt him down myself if he pulls you away again.” Harry tugs you closer to him.
“Shut up.” You groan, bumping into him as you reach his waiting car.
The scent of coffee hits Peter like a bus as he walks into his favorite coffee shop right off-campus. It’s one of the few that’s open past nine and they make the best coffee, if anyone were to ask Peter anyway. Plus, their coffee can actually keep Peter awake unlike most places. But, his normal routine of getting his coffee and sitting down to try and study or finish up an essay is interrupted.
The shop is almost empty but then there’s you. You have an elbow on the table, chin on your hand as you stare at the screen in front of you. Your eyes are drooping and you look about as exhausted and drained as Peter does. There’s something about the difference in your appearance compared to earlier that seems to tug at Peter’s heartstrings. You were so bright earlier but now, you’re just dimmed.
Peter walks to up to the counter and orders his usual coffee, caramel macchiato with four extra shots of espresso. The baristas always give him a bit of a strange look, wondering how he can even taste the caramel but also if he ever sleeps. Then again, what college student does sleep like a normal human being?
The barista hands Peter his coffee and he says a quick thanks before turning around and questioning where he’s going to sit. He could sit by you. You look tired and he sure as hell is so maybe you could keep each other awake. But, maybe you want to be left alone and Peter doesn’t want to disturb you. The last thing he wants is to make anyone uncomfortable. But, you also seemed really nice. So, why not?
“H-hey.” Peter greets once he approaches your table, both hands holding his cup of coffee.
You look up to him but your brows are furrowed and your eyes scan his face as if questioning what he was doing beside you. You knew you heard someone say something but it sounded distant and clogged, similar to if someone is trying to have a conversation underwater. Not really coherent or loud, just distant and groggy. And you weren’t paying attention to your surroundings which definitely added to the distant sound of Peter’s voice at first.
“Sorry, what?” Your voice is louder than Peter expected and it’s a little scratchy.
“Uh..I, I just said hey.” Peter gives you a sheepish smile.
“Oh! Hey.” You give him a sweet smile with the louder than conversational level tone.
Peter’s heart lifts a little with your seemingly happy change but you still look completely exhausted so he feels the need to ask, “Are you okay?”
“Sorry,” Your cheeks heat up as you turn your hearing aid back on. “Sometimes, I shut it off, ya know? When I’m studying or getting work done. Being able to drown out some noise helps me focus.” You ramble and bite your lips as you finish. “So, yeah, I’m okay…internship, ya know?”
You take in Peter’s appearance, messy hair as usual but there’s a little faint bruise you hadn’t noticed earlier, right on his jawbone. There are bags under his eyes and his clothes aren’t completely straight. The collared shirt under the grey sweater is crooked and only part of one end of the bottom of the shirt sticks out under the sweater. His bag is slugged over just one shoulder and he’s holding onto his coffee like it’s his lifeline to keep him awake. Even his skin is a strange pale color, a little paler than you think is normal.
“Are you?” You ask.
Peter nods and he holds the sheepish smile. “Internship.”
It’s a bald-faced lie. While Peter still hates lying, after all of these years of lying to pretty everyone, he’s gotten quite good at it. And while he doesn’t really want to lie to you, he doesn’t have any other reason for him to out at a coffee shop this late when he has classes in the morning. Internship is a lot better than vigilante.
There’s a soft laugh you both share and a warmth spreads throughout Peter’s chest. “Can…I sit?” Peter asks, gesturing to the open chair in front of you.
“Sure,” You close your laptop and move a few things out of the way.
You always liked this coffee shop. It’s far enough away from your home that no one really comes to bug you but it’s in a well-lit and high trafficked area so you’re not too uneasy about being here late at night. Plus, Harry’s within walking distance so you always have him you can go to. This place also actually has pretty good coffee, not something that tastes overly processed like Starbucks or bottom tier coffee like Mcdonald’s but coffee that actually tastes good.
“What’s your internship?” You ask as Peter takes a seat. “I…I just mean if it keeps you up at a coffee shop at eleven at night, it must be tasking.” You ramble, not wanting to intrude on Peter’s business if he doesn’t want to share his work.
“Oh…uh, yeah.” Peter stutters, he hasn’t gotten this far in the lie in a few years.
Does he still say Tony Stark? It really hasn’t been brought up in ages, if that’s the excuse he should still use when people ask questions. But the longer Peter’s taking to figure this out, the more you’re just staring at him, waiting for a response and now he just feels dumb. Maybe he could just pretend he didn’t hear you. No, that would not work, he already started to answer. Okay, now he has to say something. Anything.Anything at all.
“UM,” Peter shakes his head while your brows knit together. “Tony Stark.” He blurts it out finally and he’s swearing it should not have been that difficult. He really could have just said Stark Industries. Why must he name drop and sound like a total nerd? It takes everything in Peter not to facepalm right there until he hears your voice turn high-pitched.
“Really?” Your eyes widen as you lean forward. “Wait. So you know….like, Iron Man?”
Someone you just met, knows Iron Man? That has got to be the wildest thing you’ve heard and there are millions of thoughts racing through your mind like F1 drivers. If he knows Iron Man, maybe he knows Hawkeye? How cool would that be? THE Hawkeye? Clint Barton? But if he knows Iron Man, maybe he knows Spider-Man? Maybe you can get lucky and Peter will hate Spider-Man and can help you unmask him. Okay, now you’re getting a bit ahead of yourself and that’s kind of a shitty thought anyway. So, you stick with Hawkeye.
Peter nods. “Yeah.” His voice is a bit flat but holds the smallest touch of questioning.
“So…do you know the other Avengers?” You ask with so much excitement it brings a genuine smile to Peter’s face. Your leg bounces beneath you as a smile splits your face. “I mean, do you know Hawkeye? Clint Barton?” Your eyes hold so much hope and Peter would normally just…lie and say no. If it were anyone else but you have much hope, he can’t just crush you.
“Well, uh,” Peter shrugs and he tries to find words between stutters but you don’t seem to mind. “I, uh, I mean…I…yeah, I’ve…met him. A few times.” Peter swallows thickly, taking another drink of his coffee.
“That’s so cool!” You nearly squeal. “Is he cool? What’s he like? I mean, if you can tell me….or if you want to. It’s okay if you don’t want to. I’m sure you get asked all the time about the Avengers so maybe you don’t want to talk about it which is totally fine. This is fine. It’s okay, never mind. I’m rambling. I’m sorry.” You immediately become taken over with embarrassment.
Everyone loves the other Avengers and you get it. They are cool and everything, Thor is a God for crying out loud. That’s pretty awesome but…they’re not Clint to you. Someone he seems pretty ordinary, mostly, and is the best archer to exist. And he’s deaf. And he saved your life once. Clint’s always the biggest hero to you, not Iron Man or Captain America or Spider-Man.
“Sorry, uh, it’s just…ya know? He’s cool.” You make a very weak gesture towards your right ear where a hearing aid sits.
Peter remembers the first time he met Tony, the Stark Expo. Well, he didn’t really meet Tony but Tony saved him and told him “nice work, kid” so, it kind of counts. He was little then but he remembers never shutting up about it. May has a video of Peter relaying the whole story to Ben and how his face lit up the entire time. That’s what you look like. Same excitement and you haven’t even met Clint. It’s just talking about him.
“Yeah, yeah, no I get it.” Peter says in a rush. “He’s really cool.” Peter beams. “He drinks a lot of coffee though and he adopted a one-eyed dog. His name is Lucky.” There’s a chuckle that escapes his lips and you’re completely captivated, hanging out to every word like a tightrope.
“Mood.” You state, laughing softly and taking a sip of your own coffee. “That’s so cool he adopted a dog. Bet that dog has the best life.”
“Yeah, he does.” Peter lets out a chuckle and he figures this could be a good way to get out that conversation before he starts saying too much and it becomes suspicious. “So, uh, what’s your internship?” Peter asks.
“I intern at the Daily Bulge under J. Jonah Jameson.” You say softly. “Definitely nothing like yours.” You let out a quiet laugh.
Peter’s heart drops with the name of both the newspaper and the reporter. JJ has been out to unmask Spider-Man for over three years now. He’s always publishing stories about how Spider-Man is what’s wrong with New York. He’s a vigilante who does more harm than good. The takedown of bad guys and villains should be done by those equipped, like US forces and police, not some scrawny kid in a blue and red spandex suit. But, Peter, in this coffee shop with you, is Peter Parker. He’s not Spider-Man here, so he doesn’t say a word about it.
“What’s it like? I mean,” Peter starts. “What do you do? D-do you enjoy it?”
A sad smile comes over your face. “I mean, yeah, I-I guess?” Your words come out as a question while your whole demeanor switches like a light. “Usually, he’s a good reporter. I have a lot to learn from him and he has connections, ya know? But,” You chew on your bottom lip. “Sometimes, it kind of sucks and he’s a bit…” You pause, not really wanting to speak ill of your boss but you feel there’s a sense of confidence between you and Peter in this coffee shop. “Vengeful? Spiteful? Kind of insane?”
“Why, uh, why do you say that?” Peter asks and he feels bad. No one should feel like their work or internship sucks or that their boss is any of the things you just listed. It should be something someone enjoys, especially with most internships not even being paid internships. If you’re going to do something for free, you might as well enjoy it.
“I’m always running around everywhere, day and night. I never get enough sleep because of it. I fell behind in a few classes when I started interning and I have never fallen behind before. I lost most of my friends because I’m at his beck and call, ya know, people kind of get tired of you always bailing on them last minute.” You say quietly, looking down to your half-empty coffee cup.
But, Peter understands. Always running around night and day, losing sleep, falling behind, losing friends. He’s lucky that he still has Ned and MJ but he did lose them before and he’s lost a handful of others because he can’t always commit to showing up. That said, there have definitely been times where he’s seen both Ned and MJ disappointed because he can’t make a birthday event or a movie night. It’s not exactly easy sometimes but he has extenuating circumstances, like the greater good, that’s what he tells himself. So, what’s JJ got you doing that’s making you lose friends and sleep?
“I-if you don’t wanna talk about it…it’s okay…but what’s he always have you doing?” Peter asks, his hands wrapped loosely around his to-go cup.
You sigh and take a small sip of your coffee. “I have to follow Spider-Man around, try and catch him unmasking himself or doing something incriminating to make New York hate him.” A tinge of guilt cascades over you with your words, you’ve never really said that out loud before and it goes against everything you believe in.
Peter’s eyes widen and his jaw falls open a little. One thought comes to his mind in big, red, flashing letters like an exit sign: Well, shit.
This is not good. He can’t befriend someone who’s trying to ruin his entire life. That’s just cruel. Why would you want to do this to someone? Who wants to do this? JJ is just an asshole but you seem so nice. Peter doesn’t know you but he still, for some reason, expected more of you. And now what’s he to do? Get up and walk away? Just out of nowhere. That also seems a little rude and maybe he shouldn’t care but he also doesn’t really want to hurt your feelings because you don’t know Peter Parker is Spider-Man. It is a dilemma and it’s a dilemma Peter is taking too long to try and sort through because you’re just staring at him.
“You’re a fan of his, aren’t you?” You ask as if walking on thin ice.
“Uh….” Peter stutters. “Kind of, yeah. He’s pretty cool, why would you want to do that? Do you…hate him?”
You shrug. “I don’t.” The reply is short and simple. “Don’t hate him or want to do this.”
“Then why would you?” Peter asks, his voice growing a little pushy.
“My brother said something once and I don’t know. It was something about how like….if it brings you any form of excitement, maybe it’s worth pursuing and this does. And…” You pause, trying to avoid the guilt flooding your veins. “I feel like I have to make something of myself, I guess?” You scrunch your face. “Six older brothers, one is a teacher, one is a zookeeper, one is a lawyer, one is in medical school, one is in school to be a physical therapist. I don’t know, they’ve all made these huge strides to be these awesome people, feel like I have to do the same and JJ has connections. He swore he’d hook me up if I get this picture. Get the picture and I’m set for everything I wanna do.” There’s another pause and Peter just waits. “If I make it….I could help my family, too and I don’t know, it’d be nice.”
Peter can understand that. He’s an only child but he knows what it’s like to be surrounded by people who’ve made themselves into something so incredibly amazing. It’s hard not to compare yourself to them and that’s what you’re doing. It’s hard to deal with it and deal with the pressure. But you’re going to destroy his life if you do that and Peter can’t let that happen. So, he can’t just walk out and he can’t just let this go because what if you catch him? Maybe, if he can be friends with you, maybe he can convince you that this would go south? That this could destroy someone’s life. He knows firsthand it will.
“Um…” Peter’s brows are furrowed.
“I don’t know.” You cut him off with a sigh. “Everyone thinks I wouldn’t turn in the picture if I got it cause it goes against everything I really believe in, so maybe I won’t.”
“Uh, yeah.” Peter nods. “Is compromising your morals worth it?”
You pause because no. No, it’s not but you’re doing it anyway. The problem you have always had is that you just listen to everyone else. You were never the leader type. You wouldn’t just follow along either, you have a mind of your own, but you’ve always fit into this tight little box with a bow. And maybe this is something for you to show you aren’t just this little box, you’re more than that. Maybe you can prove everyone wrong. That’s not a good enough reason though, spite. Spite makes people angry and bitter and that’s not you.
“That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?” You let out a dry chuckle. “I don’t know.” You shake your head. “But, hey, uh,” You check your watch. “I do, um, like talking to you despite you being a fan of Spider-Man who is currently my nemesis,” You laugh a little bringing a smile to Peter’s face. “But I gotta head out, um, Harry’s having a party on Friday, you should come.”
“I-I don’t know.” Peter shakes his head, this whole conversation is a lot to take in and he’s unsure if he should really try this friendship even if it is in his best interest.
“It’ll be fun and we can talk some more about anything that’s not this.” You laugh and that’s enough for Peter to agree.
“Okay, yeah, uh I’ll come.”
“Cool.” You get up, grabbing your laptop and backpack.
“Do you want me to walk you back to campus?” Peter offers before you can take even one step. “It’s just, dark and stuff.”
“Oh, uh, I don’t live on campus.” You shake your head. “Queens isn’t that far so I’ll be okay.”
“Are you sure?” Peter asks,
“Yeah, thank you though.” Your cheeks heat up. “I’ll see you around, Peter Parker.”
Pretense Chapter 2 Teaser - Full Chapter coming 06/02
Chapter summary: Chasing Spider-Man is anything but easy
Full chapter warnings: Swearing
Words:1,587
Peter nods and he holds the sheepish smile. “Internship.”
It’s a bold faced lie. While Peter still hates lying, after all of these years of lying to pretty everyone, he’s gotten quite good at it. And while he doesn’t really want to lie to you, he doesn’t have any other reason for him to out a coffee shop this late when he classes in the morning. Internship is a lot better than vigilante.
There’s a soft laugh you both share and a warmth spreads throughout Peter’s chest. “Can…I sit?” Peter asks, gesturing to the open chair in front of you.
“Sure,” You close your laptop and move a few things out of the way.
You always liked this coffee shop. It’s far enough away from your home that no one really comes to bug you but it’s a well-lit and high trafficked area so you’re not too uneasy about being here late at night. Plus, Harry’s within walking distance so you always have him you can go to. This place also actually has pretty good coffee, not something tastes overly processed like Starbucks or bottom tier coffee like McDonalds but coffee that actually tastes good.
“What’s your internship?” You ask as Peter takes a seat. “I…I just mean if it keeps you up at a coffee shop at eleven at night, it must be tasking.” You ramble, not wanting to intrude on Peter’s business if he doesn’t want to share his work.
“Oh…uh, yeah.” Peter stutters, he hasn’t gotten this far in the lie in a few years. Does he still say Tony Stark? It’s really has been brought up in ages, if that’s the excuse he should still use when people ask questions. But the longer Peter’s taking to figure this out, the more you’re just staring at him, waiting for a response and now he just feels dumb. Maybe he could just pretend he didn’t hear you. No, that would not work, he already started to answer. Okay, now he has to say something. Anything. Anything at all.
“UM,” Peter shakes his head while your brows knit together. “Tony Stark.” He blurts it out finally and he’s swearing it should not have been that difficult. He really could have just said Stark Industries. Why must he name drop and sound like a total nerd? It takes everything in Peter not to facepalm right there until he hears voice turn high-pitched.
“Really?” Your eyes widen as you lean forward. “Wait. So you know….like, Iron Man?”
Someone you just met, knows Iron Man? That has got to be the wildest thing you’ve heard and there are millions of thoughts racing through your mind like F1 drivers. If he knows Iron Man, maybe he knows Hawkeye? How cool would that be? THE Hawkeye? Clint Barton? But if he knows Iron Man, maybe he knows Spider-Man? Maybe you can get lucky and Peter will hate Spider-Man and can help you unmask him. Okay, now you’re getting a bit ahead of yourself and that’s kind of a shitty thought anyway. So, you stick with Hawkeye.
Peter nods. “Yeah.” He’s voice is a bit flat but holds the smallest touch of questioning.
“So…do you know the other Avengers?” You ask with so much excitement it brings a genuine smile to Peter’s face. Your leg bounces beneath you as a smile splits your face. “I mean, do you know Hawkeye? Clint Barton?” Your eyes hold so much hope and Peter would normally just…lie and say no. If it were anyone else but you have much hope, he can’t just crush you.
“Well, uh,” Peter shrugs and he tries to find words between stutters but you don’t seem to mind. “I, uh, I mean…I…yeah, I’ve…met him. A few times.” Peter swallows thickly, taking another drink of his coffee.
“That’s so cool!” You nearly squeal. “Is he cool? What’s he like? I mean, if you can tell me….or if you want to. It’s okay if you don’t want to. I’m sure you get asked all the time about the Avengers so maybe you don’t want to talk about it which is totally fine. This is fine. It’s okay, never mind. I’m rambling. I’m sorry.” You immediately become taken over with embarrassment.
Everyone loves the other Avengers and you get it. They are cool and everything, Thor is a God for crying out loud. That’s pretty awesome but…they’re not Clint to you. Someone he seems pretty ordinary, mostly, and is the best archer to exist. And he’s deaf. And he saved your life once. Clint’s always the biggest hero to you, not Iron Man or Captain America or Spider-Man.
“Sorry, uh, it’s just…ya know? He’s cool.” You make a very weak gesture towards your right ear where a hearing aid sits.
Peter remembers the first time he met Tony, the Stark Expo. Well, he didn’t really meet Tony but Tony saved him and told him “nice work, kid” so, it kind of counts. He was little then but he remembers never shutting up about it. May has a video of Peter relaying the whole story to Ben and how his face lit up the entire time. That’s what you look like. Same excitement and you haven’t even met Clint. It’s just talking about him.
“Yeah, yeah, no I get it.” Peter says in a rush. “He’s really cool.” Peter beams. “He drinks a lot of coffee though and he adopted a one-eyed dog. His name is Lucky.” There’s a chuckle that escapes his lips and you’re completely captivated, hanging out to every word like a tightrope.
“Mood.” You state, laughing softly and taking a sip of your own coffee. “That’s so cool he adopted a dog. Bet that dog has the best life.”
“Yeah, he does.” Peter lets out a chuckle and he figures this could be a good way to get out that conversation before he starts saying too much and it becomes suspicious. “So, uh, what’s your internship?” Peter asks.
“I intern at the Daily Bulge under J. Jonah Jameson.” You say softly. “Definitely nothing like yours.” You let out a quiet laugh.
Peter’s heart drops with the name of both the newspaper and the reporter. JJ has been out to unmask Spider-Man for over three years now. He’s always publishing stories about how Spider-Man is what’s wrong with New York. He’s a vigilante who does more harm than good. The takedown of bad guys and villains should be done by those equipped, like US forces and police, not some scrawny kid in a blue and red spandex suit. But, Peter, in this coffee shop with you, is Peter Parker. He’s not Spider-Man here, so he doesn’t say a word about it.
“What’s it like? I mean,” Peter starts. “What do you do? D-do you enjoy it?”
A sad smile comes over your face. “I mean, yeah, I-I guess?” Your words come out as a question while your whole demeanor switches like a light. “Usually, he’s a good reporter. I have a lot to learn from him and he has connections, ya know? But,” You chew on your bottom lip. “Sometimes, it kind of sucks and he’s a bit…” You pause, not really wanting to speak ill of your boss but you feel there’s a sense of confidence between you and Peter in this coffee shop. “Vengeful? Spiteful? Kind of insane?”
“Why, uh, why do you say that?” Peter asks and he feels bad. No one should feel like their work or internship sucks or that their boss is any of the things you just listed. It should be something someone enjoys, especially with most internships not even being paid internships. If you’re going to do something for free, you might as well enjoy it.
“I’m always running around everywhere, day and night. I never get enough sleep because of it. I fell behind in a few classes when I started interning and I have never fallen behind before. I lost most of my friends because I’m at his beck and call, ya know, people kind of get tired of you always bailing on them last minute.” You say quietly, looking down to your half-empty coffee cup.
But, Peter understands. Always running around night and day, losing sleep, falling behind, losing friends. He’s lucky that he still has Ned and MJ but he did lose them before and he’s lost a handful of others because he can’t always commit to show up. That said, there have definitely been times where he’s seen both Ned and MJ disappointed because he can’t make a birthday event or a movie night. It’s not exactly easy sometimes but he has extenuating circumstances, like the greater good, that’s what he tells himself. So, what’s JJ got you doing that’s making you lose friends and sleep?
“I-if you don’t wanna talk about it…it’s okay…but what’s he always have you doing?” Peter asks, his hands wrapped loosely around his to-go cup.
You sigh and take a small sip of your coffee. “I have to follow Spider-Man around, try and catch him unmasking himself or doing something incriminating to make New York hate him.” A tinge of guilt cascades over you with your words, you’ve never really said that out loud before and it goes against everything you believe in.
Peter’s eyes widen and his jaw falls open a little. One thought comes to his mind is big, red, flashing letters like an exit sign: Well, shit.
summary: after strange’s spell, everybody forgot. peter could walk down the street without having cameras shoved into his face, but he could no longer go into that coffeehouse and talk to his friends like he used to. everybody forgot who peter parker was. everybody except for one.
genre: angst, friends to lovers
warnings: spoilers (obviously), angst, sad peter hours, little bit of canon level violence
The paper in his hand was crumpled, the words on his tongue slurred as his hands sweated from his anxious nerves. His heartbeat thumped erratically in his chest and walking through that open door that greeted his senses to the strong smell of coffee and sweets just about sent him into a spiral.
The girl behind the counter gave him a small, costmary smile, only growing naturally when she saw the person behind Peter and gave them a bigger wave.
Looking over his shoulder he watched as Ned shoved past him, instantly making conversation with MJ as if he wasn’t there.
“Hey Ned,” She gave Peter another small smile as she mouthed in a second, and grabbed Ned’s usual order of the glazed donut, pouring him some coffee she had already made beforehand as they chatted about MIT and other things Peter had missed in the time they, along with the rest of this universe, had forgotten him.
He had to get used to that, Peter reminded himself, he technically no longer existed.
“Hello,” She greeted as she finished talking to Ned, not noticing how Peter’s eyes brimmed with tears, “What can I get you?”
Peter stuttered, just as he always seemed to do around MJ, and looked down at the papers for help, nodding to himself as he muttered encouraging words for himself under his breath.
“I-I’m Peter Parker,” He said slowly, for the first time since that spell was cast and everybody forgot who he was, the words he had practiced a million times before sounding small and insolent.
He wasn’t anybody under that mask. Once he put it on, everybody knew Spiderman. It seemed as though his life was turning backward as even the girl he loved could recognize the masked hero better than him.
But to his shock and surprise, he watched as her eyes widened a bit, the smile dropping as Ned looked up from his seat, his eyes squinting as he tried to get a better look at his face.
Time stopped as MJ instantly whipped her phone out, typing something quickly as she made a quick call, whispering out a quick apology as the person behind the other line refused to pick up.
“D-do you know me? I-it’s me, Peter,” He moved forward, shuffling as hope ignited in his chest, warmth blossoming to the tips of his fingers as he looked from MJ and then to Ned, his lips turning upward into the biggest smile he had ever given somebody, “Peter Parker?” His lungs seemed to stop working as air lodged up in his throat, waiting for her to just say something.
“U-uh no, sorry,” MJ cursed to herself as the line beeped again, the automated voice answering box mocking her as she pocketed the phone, “Sorry about that. What,” She pushed her hair back behind her ears, trying to look as professional as she could as Ned gapped behind her, “What can I get you?”
And just like that, his smile fell, hands to his sides as the paper jeered at him for his stupidity and innocence.
“Oh, um,” His voice fell an octave, hushed as he almost let out a pained sound, “That’s,” He took in a deep breath, trying to sturdy himself back into his factious reality, “That’s o-okay. Can I get a coffee to go, p-please?”
The door behind him swung open, and he once again watched as MJ gave the person behind him one of her real smiles, not the ones she was forced to put on because of her job, but that wasn’t what stopped Peter in his tracks.
He heard a small gasp from behind him, a sound of objects clattering to the floor as he whipped his head around, eyes widening when he saw you.
It had been weeks since you two last talked, since you laughed at his stupid science puns, and it had been an agonizingly long amount of time since he watched carelessly as you ate those stale donuts while MJ and Ned decided different things to write for their college admissions letter.
There were dark eye bags under your eyes, your face no longer the bright and happy one he was so used to seeing, this one much grimmer and saddened as the two of you stared at one another, the silence becoming heavy as you didn’t say anything.
Your mouth opened, fingers touching your hair as you tried to ground yourself, gapping as you took a slow step forward, not caring about your laptop that could have possibly been broken from the fall it took or the way you already chipped phone could have received more damage.
“Peter?”
He decided that he had never heard a more beautiful sound.
No time was spared are you barreled into his chest, arms tightening around him like a python as you shakily whimpered into his neck, your tears falling down like rain droplets, wetting his skin and collar of his shirt as you wept.
You didn’t care if people saw, didn’t care if MJ and Ned stared at you like you just saw a ghost, didn’t care about anything because Peter was here. He was here and alive and holding you as you were the only thing keeping him steady from falling down.
“P-peter,oh god, Peter,” You cried into him, not letting go though he didn’t seem to want to either as your lips wavered, fingers grasping tighter onto the fabric of his back as your chest heaved with wet sobs, “Oh Pete,” That is all you could seem to say as tears moved in like waves and you had no control over them.
For him, it felt like time had stopped as he sensed your familiar scent of warm vanilla, your warm touch now a bit cold but still you as you held him like he mattered. The way you used to do when he was somebody that people loved, when he was the real Peter Parker.
It took you minutes to move away from his body and even then had difficulty as he seemed to refuse to let you go, but you couldn’t not see his face for a second longer, your fingers moving upward as you gripped his cheek in your hands, eyes scanning his face for any cuts or bruises, anything to prove to you why he had been gone for so long without saying anything.
His tears fell down his cheek, splattering on the ground, but the two of you did nothing to wipe either as your hands fell from his face, falling on his chest as you looked at MJ, pointing to him as you waited for her or Ned to say something.
When she gave you a confused shake of her head, asking what was wrong, you felt more tears roll in as you felt the insanity you had been feeling the past few weeks etch its way back into your mind.
You gave him a little push, his feet tumbling back as your lips wobbled in anger, eyes looking at him like he lit the world afire, and you heaved, another sob coming out of your chest as you smacked his arm.
“Where,” You gave his chest another push, but it was weak and he could withstand it, “Were,” Another weak one, your hands folding in on themselves as you crumpled back into his chest, “You?” You seethed those three words out, each quieter than the last, a mix of rage, betrayal, ache, hurt, everything you’d been feeling but didn’t know why seeped out as you hugged him once again.
Peter couldn’t feel anything as he felt your tears on his skin, hands shaking as he scooped you into his arm, his cheek pressed tightly against your head as his thumb moved ever so slowly up and down your back, something he sued to do when you or MJ or May was every feeling sad, something he never thought he’d do again, but here he was.
His mind was reeling, everything was going so fast he could barely breathe, but you were here, you were her and hugging him just like you used to do.
“You know me?”
His voice was barely there, a fleeting whisper as he could barely believe what he was seeing. He heard you give a small, appalled laugh, punching him lightly in the chest as you looked up at him, confused that he’d even ask such a ridiculous question.
“Peter, what the fuck, o-of course,” You lamely tried to wipe at the tears, “Of course, I know you? Y-you’re Peter Parker, right? Or have you changed your name since I last saw you because nobody seems to know who you are! A-and I feel like I’m crazy and insane but you’re here so you have to be real. I-I mean, these past nine years couldn’t have been fake, right? An-” He cut you off, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek as he swooped you back into his arms.
“Was it that electrical guy, d-did he, did he shock you or something? Have you been to the hospital? Why didn’t you tell us, you know we’d come…” You whispered into his chest, defeated as he sniveled something out, almost shocked as he stuttered nonsense to himself.
“Wewouldcome but MJ and Ned seem to have lost their fuckin’ minds because they can’t seem to remember you!” You said, furious now as you looked at the girl and boy behind him.
You snapped out of your trance, struggling to get out of his grasp as you stared the two of them down, shaking in defiant rage as you pointed to him.
“This,” You almost yelled, “This is Peter! Remember? Peter Benjamin Parker? O-or can’t you seem to know your own fucking boyfriend?” Your head tilted to the side in an almost manic way. MJ could barely say anything as she stuttered, looking at Peter and then back to you, “And you,” You moved over to Ned, your finger jammed into his chest as he looked wildly at your face, “Do you not remember Peter? Pete from third grade? Peter with remarkably amazing eyesight? Peter who built the death star with you? That Peter?”
If only you could see the way Peter beamed, at the way his eyes widened and shined so brilliantly, as though you had handed him his world back even if you were just yelling at your friends for no reason.
You remembered him. Everything about him, and he could barely control his childlike glee, the rosy blush that swarmed his cheeks adding some color to his face that had been so pale the past couple of days.
For in the span of those minutes you first saw him till now, Peter deduced that MJ, Ned, Happy, and just about anybody who knew who he was still didn’t know the real Peter Parker.
Everybody except for you.
“U-um, n-no, can’t say I,” Ned looked over at MJ, questioning you and the stranger he had only seen until a few minutes ago, “Can’t say I do?”
You groaned, jamming your palms into your eye sockets as your fists clenched, looking back at MJ to see if anything sparked in her memory, but she just seemed to be apologizing to Peter for your loud outburst.
But Peter could only give her a shaky smile, muttering some things as he pushed past some people to get to you, his hands shaking a bit as he gripped your arms, searching your face to see if you still remembered him.
“Y/n,” Peter had the most gentle hold on your arm, almost terrified that if he touched you you’d disappear, “Can we go outside,” He looked at the small crowd forming, “Please?”
You whipped your head to the sound, your angry look vanishing when Peter gave you a heartbreaking smile, cocking his head to the door as he tried to usher you out.
You couldn’t say anything as you muttered your goodbyes to your friends, letting Peter walk you out because you couldn’t trust your legs, the cold air hitting your face as your teeth clamped down together.
“Pete, come on, you gottatell me what’s going on…” You felt him usher you to an alley, looking behind him to see if anybody was looking, but realizing he no longer had to be conscious about what he said because nobody would look at a boy in an alleyway to find out spiderman’s true identity.
“You know me?” He asked again, fingers carding through your hair as you gave him a slow and timid nod, wondering if you actually were crazy and he was a figment of your imagination this entire time.
“Yes, Pete, I know you. Unless some shit happened in these two weeks-”
“Something did happen,” He quickly said, his hands never leaving your shoulder, “Something bighappened and n-nobody’s supposed to know who I am,” He glanced back at the coffeehouse, “MJ and Ned were supposed to forget me. Youwere supposed to forget me b-but,” He looked back at you as if he could barely believe anything that had just happened, “Y-you know me?” His voice felt so raw, so defeated that despite the millions of questions that swarmed your mind, not one of them mattered as you pulled him into a hug, allowing his tears to fall freely in the expanse of your arms, something he never thought he could do again in such a short amount of time since that spell happened.
“You know me,” He said to himself because he couldn’t believe that somebody still remembered who he was, “You,” He embraced you back so tightly you felt the air in your lungs squeeze out, “Know,” He kissed your forehead as he looked at you, his thumb tracing your cheek to make sure you weren’t just another part of his nightmare, so glad to actually feel skin against his skin, “Me?”
And in that alleyway, with people passing by and the world moving around on its axis, his seemed to stop. Because here, he realized that he wasn’t totally in the dark. That somebody, perhaps one of the most important people in his life, could hug him back as they muttered his name over and over again, a mantra of truth that made Peter Parker somewhat of a person again.
—
As the weeks passed, it seemed as though Peter couldn’t let you go, showing you around his shabby apartment as he tried to slyly wipe the tears away from his cheek, giving you a wet chuckle as you noted about the little star wars figures on his desk and that you’d be sure to bring back more.
It was painful to tell Ned and MJ that something came up in your life to explain the outburst you had, and although they quickly forgave you, it didn’t hurt any less when they moved along the topic as if Peter’s name wasn’t important to them.
You guessed it no longer was.
You waited patiently as he’d pace around his room, reading a book on his bed he tried to come up with different solutions as to why you still knew who he was, every detail about his past that even he had been starting to forget, but he could only blame it on a flaw in Strange’s magic that allowed for this to happen.
His apartment was cold and dark, but he never failed to tell you just how restful you made it with all your visits, with the way you baked him your legendary pecan pie and made it the first thing he had in his rundown fridge.
His suit was tucked away in a corner, and he hadn’t touched it much since that night. Crime had been at a low, and even if it wasn’t, he felt rather nauseous whenever he put it on.
He’d tell you all about his plan in getting back together with MJ, to make her fall back in love with him, with how he promised both her and Ned that he’d come back for them, but his childish promise seemed more difficult to pull off seeing that they had moved to Massachusets a couple days ago.
He found a job at the computer store down the street, one of the last of its kind, and glimpsing at how you had been able to secure that Stark internship a couple years ago, Happy seemed intent on letting you stay as your job in New York continued from the comfort of your room. Moreso, Peter’s, seeing how much time you spent there.
“I just,” You looked up from your laptop as Peter slammed the door shut, kicking his shoes off with an annoyed huff, “I fuckin’ hate it. Seein’ MJ with that dick on her socials and Ned watching Return of the Jedi with Flash…” He flopped down on the mattress, his weight pushing you down a bit as you gave his back a comforting rub, your fingers tugging on his hair as he whined quietly again, moving so that he could situate his head on your thighs, looking up at his ceiling as he pressed a small kiss against your pants, trying for a smile as you began typing away.
“’M sorry Peter,” You glanced down at him, giving him an apologetic grin as you rubbed his shoulders, “It fuckin’ sucks, I know,” You patted his cheek as you went to type something, letting out a frustrated groan when your code didn’t work, forgetting what you were going to say to him when your mind got sidetracked.
He sat up, looking over your shoulder as he read what was on the screen, lips pursing together as he tried to make out what you were doing.
“Need some help?” He offered and had you not been running on two hours of sleep and about seven cups of coffee from the past three hours, you would have said no. But you just pushed it towards him, letting your back fall down as you heaved in a sigh of relief after being hunched for so long.
“When was the last time you slept?” He commented on your drowsy state and you murmured some incoherent words as you gripped onto his pillow.
“What?” He glanced at you, worry taking over his features as you moved in and out of sleep.
“About a day ago,” You gave a loud yawn, “Or two,” You tiredly rubbed at your eyes, “Maybe t-three, actually,” You yawned again, this time louder as you stretched.
Peter instantly put the laptop aside, moving so that you could lay fully on the bed, taking your glasses off as he set them on the little table next to him, folding them as you subconsciously snuggled deeper into his fluffy sheets.
“Oh Y/n,” He muttered some things as you yawned again, letting him place his hand behind your back as he lay another pillow underneath your head, “You gotta take more care of yourself, this isn’t healthy,”
Your lips pouted as you stared at him through your lashes, thoughts running behind that head of yours as your brows furrowed with one another.
“I got'chu though,” You murmured tiredly, your hands searching for his as you gave them a weak squeeze, earning a gentle one back in return.
“I know,” He pressed a kiss to your forehead as he tugged the blanket over your body, “But I’m not always here and you gotta know when to stop, yeah? I don’t have anybody else, so I gotta make sure you’re doin’ fine, okay?” You gave him a slow nod, adjusting your head into the pillow as you gripped onto his hand even tighter than before.
“’M always here,” You muttered slowly, “Nothin’ safer than spiderman’s apartment,” You joked with slurred words, sleep overtaking your features as you nodded off.
“Yeah,” He almost choked as he gave you a tight lipped smile, giving the back of your hand a kiss, “I know,”
Peter gave a small chuckle as he fell on the floor, not letting go of your hand as he used the other one to wipe at his tears.
It felt routine to have his eyes water up at the end of the night. Most of the time, he’d know the reason behind them. Some of them for MJ, for the fact that he was never able to tell her he loved her one last time, for the promises he made in the final minutes he was sure he’d never be able to make. For the fact that he’d most likely never be able to sit down with Ned and just watch a movie and laugh and have nothing else to worry about. Other times they were for May and the fact that her blood still stained his hands, no matter how many times you helped him clean them. On the rare occasion, Happy would plague his thoughts, and even worse was when he heard Tony’s last words, the deaths that lined his conscience whenever he tried to sleep.
But here, it wasn’t for the regret, the pain, the longing he felt regularly.
It was because you held onto him no matter what, that even as you tried to move in your sleep, you held his fingers with all your might. They reminded him that even in the world in which everything lit afire, you were there to put it out. The girl with the large glasses and books overflowing her backpack, the one that painfully waited for him to back after every mission only to watch with tearful eyes as you embraced him once again.
In these hours you reminded Peter that even when everything else he loved had gone to ruin, you never left, even if it wasn’t in your power to decide that, even if the fates above decided who’s string to meddle with more.
You heard a muted sniffle and eyes instantly snapped open, worriedly looking at him as he quickly wiped them away, but you were already shifting so that you sat on the ground next to him, pulling him into your side as you wordlessly hugged him.
Too many nights you’d waken up to get a cup of water only to find him crying silently to himself, so even when he pleaded for you to just pretend that everything was okay and to go back to sleep, you trained yourself in hearing the little sounds he’d make.
“Wanna go sleep?” You gently offered, yawning as you helped him stand up as you led him back to the bed, removing his coat as you folded it and placed it to the side, helping him situate himself on the bed as his cheeks shined in the moonlight that flooded in.
The two of you constantly switched places in taking care of one another, something that was rare before everything happened, but almost felt like clockwork as you began acknowledging that aside from Ned and MJ, who you rarely heard from anymore, Peter was really all you had left.
You went to go to the couch, your usual resting place when you felt him hold your hand, his brown eyes swimming with a mess of emotions as he refused to let go.
“Stay,” He whispered, voice lost to his own mind as he almost beseeched, “Please.”
You had slept in the same bed with him before. There was that one time you refused to sleep on his dirty floor and made him begrudgingly share the right side of his mattress with you, or the one time Ned kept on farting and he made him switch places with you, but never when he was this vulnerable.
But you gave him a slow nod, collapsing in when he scotched aside, letting you find your comfort as you edged into his back, the limited space not big enough to house the two of you in the simplest way, but you made it work.
You didn’t know just how much it eased Peter when you relaxed into his chest, or the way his hand subconsciously found its way across your chest in his sleep and the way you turned around at one point, your breathing hitting each other as the two of you slept as though one.
—
After that, sleeping alone just never appealed to you anymore.
If not for his strange warmth, Peter was a comfort you seek out when alone, and being safely tucked away in his arms, however platonic, surely helped ease your thoughts at night that he wasn’t doing anything idiotic.
He had changed dramatically since the boy you once knew.
He was quieter than before, much more reserved. The nights he went away on patrol were terrible because every siren you heard, every time you saw the clock tick past four you wondered if he’d be coming back.
Every time he left he’d promise he’d return, but it might have been your paranoia from before or the fact that you, alongside a handful of other people, actually knew him, and feared he may never come home.
Of course, he never wanted to leave.
Even though you assured him you’d be fine and could do well on your own, he always seemed to contemplate his departure much longer than he used to in his past, glancing at you and at the colorful array of locks at the door.
His apartment was protected, that much you knew. He had learned some things when he spent that awkward night with Bucky and Sam, but they had shown him some ways to make locks safer, and he had shown you how to turn off the safety on the gun he stored away just in case.
He told you to call him if you even got a papercut, and even though you promised you would, you forgot to call him that one time you accidentally cut yourself when making dinner and got an earful when he came back, fretting over your wrapped up finger as you assured him everything was okay.
But he never really went over what to do in case somebody actually broke in, and listening to the loud thudding from behind the door made you wish he had.
You had called 911 and they had told you they’d be here in a quarter to ten, but the clock on your phone was already read 10:05 so you heavily doubted if those sirens were going to come any closer.
You had called Peter multiple times, always going to voicemail, just as you suspected, and with each lock giving way from under the pressure from the people behind the door.
When he got to voicemail once again you let out a small cry, lips trembling as you tried to cover yourself the best you could with the clothes in the closet you laid hidden in.
“Peter,” You let out a yelp when the door finally slammed down and multiple voices could be heard from the outside, “There are people outside and they just came in and I’m in the closet, I-I,” You limited your voice to a whisper as the people on the other side shouted from one another, grumbling angrily to themselves as they realized there wasn’t anything valuable in the small apartment, “I’m scared, I don’t know what to do.” You shakily admitted, the yelling never stopping as they searched through the cabinets and drawers.
“Check in there!” One yelled to the other and you couldn’t do anything as the footsteps got nearer, ending the call as you tied to make yourself as hidden as possible, the door slamming open as one of the men began searching through the clothing, his eye never catching yours as he yelled back to the man behind him, stating that there was nothing here.
You stayed as silent as you could, not even breathing as the man left, going back to flipping the mattress over as they searched for valuables that weren’t there.
You could see through the crack in the door when a flash of red flew by, screams momentary as Spiderman flew in, his masked face looking wildly around, seeing your face peeking out from behind the wide array of the coats as he let out a sigh of relief, not before he gave the two men what he came here to do.
“You touch her?” He snapped, voice lined with fury, something you had never heard before as the two men looked at each other confused.
“Who? We ain’t touch nobody!” The one with the beard yelled, struggling against his webs.
“If my girl has a scratch on her fuckin’ body you gonna tell me who did it?” Peter’s hand flew to the other neck, his grip tightening as he wildly shook his head.
“We didn’t touch anybody! Didn’t even know somebody was here!” He yelled, words slurring together when Peter removed his hand just a bit, assessing your features as you shook your head, silently telling him that you were fine.
It only took a couple of seconds before he had them tied up and thrown away, letting the police do whatever they wanted with them as he came back, shutting the door with his web as he instantly sprinted to where you were, carefully and slowly peeling you out from your hidden corner as he dusted you off, his hands shaking as he looked over your face, almost not believing what was in front of him.
“A-are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you wanna sit down?” His thumb swatted at the dried tear marks, pulling you into his chest as he hugged you as tightly as he could.
“I’m okay, I swear,” Peter let out a relieved sigh, nodding more to himself as he pulled away from you, only to bring you back in when the fear from minutes before settled deep into his bones.
“I got your voicemail and I swear I’ve never run as fast as I did,” he muttered into your hair, “God,” You heard him groan from above you, “Just about felt my heart stop when I didn’t see ya’,” He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead and you pulled away, giving him a weak chuckle as you tried to wipe away at his tears.
“If I lost you,” He stopped, looking to the side as your hands moved up to touch his jaw, to redirect his focus back onto you, to take the pain away you knew he shouldered so well.
Peter’s hair was messed up from the wind, his cheeks red and tinted with salty tracks, but he had never looked more beautiful than he did now, chocolate eyes finding yours as he felt everything in his stop.
“Y/n, if I lost you I think I’d lose just about everything that mattered to me,” He admitted, his hands never leaving the sides of your face as you whimpered, crying as he kissed the tip of your nose.
“Pete…” You couldn’t finish the sentence as his hands moved down, gently lifting your face up as he placed a kiss to your lips, your breath catching in your throat as Peter kissed away everything you wanted to say.
He stated like tears and blood, but his lips were soft and forgiving. They moved in tandem with yours, greedy and hungry as he lapped away every sort of pain the two of you had felt in these past months.
It didn’t matter that the outside world was slowly catching fire, because here, with Peter kissing you like you were his oxygen and he was a man starved of air, nothing else seemed to matter.
He was rough yet kind, quick as he tried to make sure you were here, that you had been here all along, and you let him move you around, throwing your head back as his lips hungrily moved downward, wet kisses lining your throat as he hungrily marked what was his.
“Peter,” Your hands found purchase in his hair, “Pete, look, I’m okay, I’m okay,” He wanted to almost scoff at the way you thought he was kissing you like his life depended on it just because you were fine.
He moved away, lips bruised, red, and plump as his chest heaved, eyes dark with primal desire as he shook his head, hands gripping your waist with a force strong enough to bruise.
“I know darlin’,” He pressed a chaste kiss to your nose, “I just gotta show you how much you mean to me, can’t wait for a second longer,” And he stuck to his words as he quickly made his way to the bed, laying you down as your hearts intertwined in a peculiar, melancholy yet simple rhythm.
In those months the world forgot Peter Parker, his life was rewritten by somebody who seemed the realize that no matter what sort of power decided to mess with his gloomy, sunken life, you’d always be there.
Peter knew now that love wasn’t what carried you through, or perseverance or the sheer fact alone that you were you and nothing could break the two of you apart, it was that when the world forgot Peter Parker, you could never forget the boy who stole your heart those years ago, the one that made his way into your very mind and refused to leave.
His life would never be the same again, no matter how much he wished it would be. The burden of the world would fall onto his shoulders at the end of the day, a cruel game he’d be tested with at every hour, but he swore that as long as he’d have you, he’d do whatever he could to make this cruel life somewhat sweet again.
Pairing: Soft!dark Peter Parker (mid twenties) x Reader
Summary: One shot. Peter Parker-Stark was more than just a rebound guy.
Warning: Swearing, Dubcon if u squint, Alcohol consumption, Sexual themes. If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.
“He’s looking at you,” your friend murmured under her breath as she looked over your shoulder. “Again.”
You groaned and buried your face in your hands. Peter Parker, the adopted son of theTony Stark, had made his intentions clear to you and just about everyone else. And now, he was the sole heir of the whole Stark enterprise. It helped a lot that he was a genius himself, and that he was innovative and had a businessman mind. If it wasn’t a public knowledge, no one would wonder if he was really a Stark himself. He was the carbon copy of his adoptive father, except that he wasn’t a playboy.
summary: Christmas Eve is a mixture of things for reader this year, and Peter preps for her to meet Aunt May.
notes: oof this took longer than i intended TT_TT sorry! some weird dream stuff and some magic stuff and some little tidbits about reader here. i also just love cameos u wu take the greek with a grain of salt, if you would ; ;
Christmas Eve came, and found Peter and [Y/N] meeting at her apartment in the afternoon. She was feeling better—after three days of Aunt May’s soup, her grandmother’s recipes, and a firm regimen of cold/flu combo meds, she was sniffle-free and out and about again (if bundled up a little more, since their plan was to go walking and look at the Christmas lights). She met Peter at the door, wrapped in a number of dark layers, a thick beanie and bulky knit scarf, boots, and gloves warmly in place, and Peter in his layers and his parka and pom-pom hat grinned at her from the steps as she emerged and locked up, smiling. “Well you look much better!” “It’s the lipstick,” she joked, “makes me look like myself again.” He leaned in to give her a quick kiss while she was right at eye-level on the steps with him. “You looked like yourself without the makeup,” he replied earnestly, smiling at her affectionately, “just, y’know, a very sniffly and sneezy version of yourself.” She snorted, rolling her eyes, but took his arm when he offered and trotted down the sidewalk with him. “Well, you look a little like a marshmallow right now, so I guess I’ll let that slide.” He laughed, and as she leaned against his side, Peter thought nothing had felt so normal or so comfortable for so long now, part of him wasn’t even sure how to react. But [Y/N] was warm against him and the air was cold and crisp, and the day was gray but otherwise nice, and he was happy.
They made their way down Bleecker and [Y/N] filled him in on a few of her neighbors, and the neighborhood stories she knew. That building had burned down some years ago, this apartment was supposed to be haunted, that shop’s owner was secretly with the mob…they window shopped, passing a few boutiques and she took a picture of him next to a weirdly youthful-looking Santa painted on a shop window that she said looked like him. “I used to walk with Nona to get groceries and run errands,” she explained as they walked, now hand-in-hand, under a few trees strung with white lights. “She knew everybody. I—oh,” she spotted the doctor heading up his stoop up as they passed, and he cast a glance at her, smiling a bit wryly to himself. “Good to see you out and about again,” he remarked, and she grinned. “I should send you the bill for my cold meds,” she joked, and he got his door open, heading in. “And I wouldn’t pay it. Enjoy your walk.” “Peter, this is Doctor Stephen Strange, and if you ever need any help with your health he’s apparently no use.” Peter blinked, raising an eyebrow a little but gamely playing along. “Oh, uh, it’s nice to meet you then Doct—” “Not yet,” the man cut him off, and promptly shut his door on the two of them. [Y/N] blinked a few times, but shrugged it off and led Peter along again. “What was that about?” “Oh I have no idea,” she replied, “I’m pretty sure he’s psychic or something, but I also know if I ask him, he’s just going to say ‘no’ whether it’s the truth or not, so I don’t bother. But I’m still sure he’s psychic.” Peter’s brow knit a little as they walked, digesting this, and he decided it was better to just accept it at face value. “Wait, his name is actually Doctor Strange?”
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The park was busy as usual, but mostly with people traveling through on their way shopping or to parties—they spotted more than one group of people in formalwear or approximations of it taking pictures together. They themselves got some warm coffees to hold onto and sip while they peoplewatched, and took a few of their own photos. Night fell, the lights glowed bright around them, and they walked on through the park together, rosy-faced and grinning as snow tried its best to fall. “So you’ll be at May’s tomorrow?” Peter asked as they strolled down a lane of lit-up trees, walking backwards to face her. [Y/N] smiled, nodding. “I will be at May’s tomorrow. I even got her a present.” He skidded to a stop, eyes wide. “What! I thought we agreed to no gifts!” She breezed past him, smiling smugly to herself. “We did agree no gifts. Aunt May did not.” “That is not—“ he still smiled, catching up to her quickly. “You didn’t have to get her anything,” his voice was softer now, and more sincere. She shrugged, smiling. “First impressions are important, and I’m looking forward to meeting her, and she sent that soup to me when she didn’t have to. Besides, it’s small anyways, it’s not like I really knew what to get her in the first place.” Peter stopped, and this time she stopped too, looking up at him as the few scattered people still out walking went around them. He looked almost disbelieving, smiling at her like it was the only thing he knew how to do. He moved close, taking her face in his hands, and she raised an eyebrow at him. “What did I say?” “Nothing,” he breathed out, voice full of laughter, “everything. I think I love you, [Y/N//Y/L/N].”
[Y/N]’s eyes went wide and she felt herself go still, hearing this, and for a moment Peter looked terrified, realizing what he’d said, but [Y/N]’s eyes softened, her cheeks went just a little more pink, and she smiled, reaching her hands up to rest on top of his. “I think I love you too, Peter Parker.” And maybe she meant it. Maybe it was okay, just then, even if neither one of them meant it out loud, because it was, for that minute, in the freezing park under the Christmas lights, snowflakes not quite clinging to their clothes and hair, what they both felt—and that was enough. Still, as he leaned in and kissed her, Peter hoped it was real, and lasting. After all the mistakes he’d made and the things he’d lost and done wrong, a small part of him felt like he didn’t deserve that, knew that he was hiding things from her, knew that maybe he couldn’t ever let her in on all of his secrets, and maybe that would be too much. Maybe she wouldn’t be able to accept that, maybe she would end up wanting more than he could give, maybe this would go horribly wrong. Her lips curled up into a smile against his, and he forgot about everything worrying him.
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Peter walked [Y/N] to her brownstone again, hand-in-hand and smiling ear to ear all the way there. Her antique porch lamp was on, but otherwise her apartment seemed dark inside; on the stoop, they stopped, and stood together outside her door. “So.” She smiled a little, took a quick breath, and for the first time she looked nervous to him. “Christmas with Aunt May tomorrow.” Peter nodded, squeezing her gloved hands. “You really want to come?” “I-I really do,” she nodded, chewing her lips a little, and glancing down. Peter’s smile faltered some. “…But, there’s something bothering you.” He leaned in, trying to catch her eyes and get her to look at him. “Hey. Talk to me. What’s wrong?” [Y/N] exhaled quietly, looking up at him. “Peter, are you sure she’s going to be okay with me?”
There was a pause, and Peter took in what she’d said, his eyes briefly looking her over. In her thick black coat and her chunky black knit beanie and scarf, her torn black lace stockings over the dark purple ones, the knee-high black boots he called her pirate boots (which always got a giggle), her black gloves…and her dramatic dark eye makeup, her numerous earrings, and her black lipstick. She was no MJ, no Gwen Stacy, nothing like anybody he’d ever brought around Aunt May, and he definitely knew she understood that. “I can…I can tone it down tomorrow, I mean I know it’s an important day to her, I don’t want—“ “—You don’t need to change anything,” he said firmly, meeting her eyes without hesitation, and rested a soft, mitten-covered hand on her cheek, smiling affectionately. “You’re beautiful. And you’re my girlfriend, and that’s what matters.” She smiled a little, but raised an eyebrow at him. “Just that?” Peter seemed to realize his misstep and backtracked a little, smiling when he saw her smile and knew she was teasing anyways. “No! No, of course not—you’re also—also very nice. And smart! And funny!” [Y/N] laughed at this, swinging their arms a little. “I’mfunny??” “You’re funny!” “I don’t think I’ve ever been told that before—“ “You are! I’m laughing right now!” “Oh my god…” She laughed, shaking her head, “Peter you’re such a dork…” but he leaned in, taking advantage of the uplift in her mood, and kissed her forehead. “I’m a dork and I managed to get a girl as cool as you to like me. And my Aunt May is gonna think the same thing.” “That you’re a big dork and I’m cool?” he laughed again. “Yes!” “I don’t know if that’s a good thing, but okay.” She smiled, and wrapped her arms around his waist, tilting her head back a little to look up at him. “You wanna give that another go?” He took her chin and kissed her, smiling against her lips, and when she leaned back again, her smile sobered. “I can at least wear normal makeup tomorrow,” she said softly, and he gave her another quick peck on the lips, leaning his forehead against hers. “I like your makeup, no matter what you do. Just be yourself.” “Okay.” She breathed out a soft little laugh, and nodded against his head, bumping foreheads a little before turning to unlock her door. “Go home before you freeze out here, my big darling dork.” Peter took a step or two down and turned to watch her get inside safely. “You sure you’re okay? I’m gonna wait until your lights are on.” “I’m fine,” she assured him, clicking on her front room lights for good measure and smiling. “See?” He gave her a lopsided grin. “I just worry,” he admitted, “Big empty house, you all alone in there…” “I’m okay,” she smiled at him affectionately, “Promise. I have a phone, and a taser, and a baseball bat, and a bunch of nosy neighbors,” she grinned. He smiled. “Not even afraid of ghosts?” [Y/N], instead of laughing like he’d imagined, just smiled. “There are no ghosts here,” she said gently, “They’ve all moved on by now.” And that caught him off-guard enough for her to swoop down and kiss him one more time before hopping back up the steps, smiling. “Now go home, my dear. Your aunt is gonna hate me if you get sick too!”
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[Y/N] showered and put on a load of laundry before deciding to head to bed at last; making sure the place was locked up and her lights were all off took a minute, and as she headed up her staircase, she thought about what Peter had said. Upstairs, the hallway to her bedroom passed a storage closet, her upstairs study, and the doors to her grandmother’s old room, and the room that had been her mother’s, years and years ago. Her own bedroom was technically an attic, but to reach those stairs, you had to first traverse the hallway, and [Y/N] sighed softly to herself at the closed doors. She hadn’t been able to go into her mother’s old room. That door remained shut, and she could feel the emptiness there even from outside. Her mother hadn’t used that room in years—since before she herself was born—but her grandmother had left it alone even after she’d moved in, too. [Y/N] knew that even her strong nona hadn’t been able to really face that wound on such a regular basis, and she couldn’t blame her. Tonight, she thought of ghosts, and for the briefest moment standing there in her empty brownstone in front of a room that had been empty longer than she could remember, she felt inescapably sad. “No, you didn’t stay.” she said quietly, to no one at all.
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It was 3:13 on the dot when [Y/N] woke up in a wild bubble of clarity.
She hadn’t had a dream like this in years. Rushing with startling precision, she slipped out of bed in her nightgown, didn’t bother with slippers or robe, and barefoot, she first tossed an old journal and pen onto her bed, and then went for her shelves. She grabbed her little old cauldron and quickly lit a charcoal tab, rummaging for the herbs she wanted, whispering to herself all the while to keep track of the dream. The adrenaline rush from waking so suddenly and so completely would likely wear off soon enough, and chill would settle into her bare skin, but right now she was determined to take care of this. Shorthand would do for now. A few rosemary leaves, a few rose petals. A ground juniper berry, a drop of dragon’s blood. Sage. The dry herbs and oil caught and began to smolder, and as the tendrils of smoke wafted up out of the little cauldron’s pot, she breathed deep and shut her eyes, recalling the dream. Her hands went blindly for one chest of stones that she knew, even sightless, and she let herself be drawn to what she would be, holding the stone in her palm and steadying her breathing.
Her grandmother. She’d seen her grandmother—she was standing on a high, grassy hill, in the moonlight, overlooking some ancient temple, and before she could tread down the hill to investigate, her grandmother had been there, beside her. “Do you think you’re ready for that?” she’d asked, her aged face lined with concern. Nona had always encouraged her to follow her intuition, to believe in her own power, in her own ability, but now, she looked quietly worried. [Y/N] had paused, torn for a moment between the temple, and wanting to embrace her grandmother. She felt tears in her eyes, and turned back to the strange stone building, watching the light from strange fires inside of it. “I can always come back,” she’d said, but when she looked back, her grandmother was no longer there, and she was standing on the hill facing her mother. Her throat constricted and her chest felt tight; her mother smiled at her, dark hair and dark eyes, just like she could remember her, but somehow different too. “No,” she said gently, “You can’t. But I think you’ll be all right, [Y/N/N].” “M-mom…” she’d breathed it out, feeling the tears falling down her cheeks, but still rooted to her spot. “You’re gonna be okay,” her mother said, and just smiled. “Σκώρος. καθρέπτης. Δύο φλόγες. ἰχώρ.” [Y/N] felt something strange come over herself, watched as her mother swept close and took her face in her hands, felt wind come rushing up the hill around them, billowing her mother’s dark hair like a flag. “Hecate, Hecate, Hecate,” her mother chanted softly, “Final of three. You’ll be okay. Remember. The mirror is a door.” [Y/N] shook her head, holding onto her mother’s hands on either side of her face as if to keep her there, tears still falling. “Mom—I don’t understand,” she got out, sniffling some, “I miss you.” Her mother’s smile was kind as she stroked her daughter’s cheek. “I’m always with you, honey. You know that.” She let out a soft, sweet laugh, and leaned in to kiss [Y/N]’s forehead. “You can trust the spider, little moth.”
In [Y/N]’s hand was a palm stone, soft purple and mottled with a lacy white, lepidolite. She had to wipe at her face with her free hand, sniffing quietly and wetting her lips. “You finally show up when I call you out about it, huh mom?” She whispered, swiping at her damp cheeks. “And I have no idea what you’re even talking about.” She swallowed, taking a deep breath and letting her eyes find her statuette of Hecate in the low light. That detail she did understand. Her eyes met the eyes of the little statue, and she turned the lepidolite over in her hand a few times. “Hecate, Hecate, Hecate,” she murmured, recalling how her mother had said it in the dream, “‘The mirror is a door’? Mom, what the hell…”
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Christmas morning was cheery and warm at Aunt May’s; Peter was over early every year with presents and a kiss on the cheek, and already May’s apartment smelled like baked goods and Christmas dinner. “Where’s your girlfriend?” She gasped, seeing Peter by himself, and he looked a little sheepish. “She’s coming in a little bit! She said she’d be here around noon, I just always come early and I thought—” “Peter! You should have come along with her!” Peter let Aunt May toddle into the kitchen with him, settling at her little table and setting his gifts down. “Well, I also…I wanted to talk about her before she’s here,” he admitted, and May gave him a curious look from her place back at the stove. “And why is that?” “Well she’s…she’s just nervous about meeting you,” he got out, rubbing the back of his neck, “And I mean, I understand, she’s not—she’s just—“ May put a hand on her hip and waved a wooden spoon at Peter. “Now Peter, did you make this girl think I’m that scary?” “No! No, what—no, you’re not scary, May, it’s just…” “Just what?” “[Y/N] is…she’s not like anybody else I’ve had around. She’s definitely no Mary Jane.” “Well, the way you’ve talked about her, I’m sure she’s a nice girl.” “She is! She just doesn’t look—” “Peter Parker, I know I raised you better than that. I’m sure she’s perfectly lovely. Tell me something important about her.” Peter smiled a little lopsided smile at this, gazing out at nothing and thinking of [Y/N]. “She’ssmart. She’s in an internship with a scientist that was in the paper, and she’s just…she’s so smart. And she likes taking pictures—she might be better than me at it! She’s nice, too. She always tips when we get anything to eat. The baristas at the coffee shop we like all know her. The little old lady in the park that feeds the birds, the one with the little dog? She knows her by name! Her name is Florence, and her dog’s name is Tippy, and [Y/N] brings Tippy dog treats and has birdseed for Florence.” He smiled to himself, thinking about all of this. “She knows her neighbors, and talks to them. She’s funny, but she doesn’t mean to be sometimes, I think. She lives by herself in this big brownstone in Greenwich and she likes to read and I think she believes in ghosts, and she makes her own tea…” Aunt May was looking at him fondly when he looked up again, smiling broadly. “Peter, I don’t think it matters what this young lady looks like.” She came up in her apron and patted his cheek affectionately, “It’s been too long since I’ve seen you look this way. How could I not like someone who makes you this happy, hmm?” And Peter ducked his head a little, laughing softly as May headed back to her pots and pans. “I really like her, Aunt May.” “I can tell,” May replied sagely, smiling to herself. “I think I’m in love with her.” “Then I’d better make sure all of this food tastes good!”
warnings: tw for food, illness, brief discussion of death / death mention
summary: reader catches a very unfortunate cold at an inopportune time–peter takes the day to come play nurse.
notes: a shorter installment–i’m sick right now myself might have another one up soon, possibly tomorrow if i can get it finished! fingers crossed, haha
The morning after her run-in with Spider-Man and her amazing date with Peter, she’d woken up sniffly—and the next two days she’d toughed it out with some over-the-counter cold meds, but by that Saturday, there was no more denying it: she was definitely sick. Fever-ridden and a little hazy from how congested her sinuses were, [Y/N] couldn’t help but think, if briefly, that this was somehow her neighbor’s fault. ‘You’ll mind being sick later’—but she knew that was nonsense. Dr. S had a strange name, but he was just a guy who lived a few blocks over on Bleecker Street, not a psychic, after all.
Peter had that Saturday free, as it happened, and had been planning on spending it with [Y/N]; they’d agreed they would forego Christmas presents (since she didn’t really celebrate and Peter was looking to get himself a new motorbike) but he was determined to figure out something small to do for her all the same. They were officially a couple now—[Y/N] was his girlfriend, and that on its own made him want to do something special for her, holidays aside. But when he called her that morning, she sounded awful.
“‘Morning, P…”
“Whoa, I didn’t wake you up did I? It’s almost 10—“
“Wake me—no,“ there was a sniffle on the other end, “no, I think I’ve got a cold.“ A little shivery cough, and then, “…I’m basically absolutely sure I have a cold.”
“Oh god—you sound awful—n-no offense—do you need anything? Can I bring you anything? Are you okay?”
“No, I-I’m good, I’m just trying to sleep it off, really…I might see if one of my neighbors can run to the grocery for me later. Sorry Peter, I really wanted to see you today…”
He hadn’t felt this put-out over anything in weeks. But then something hit him, and he paused, before calling up Aunt May.
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[Y/N] was in bed; she’d been drifting in and out of napping, a box of tissues and her little trash bin next to her bed along with a few bottles of water and her laptop, which had finally given her too much of a headache to even look at anymore and now sat closed on her nightstand. She’d been considering going and adjusting the heat, going and digging through her pantry, going and even trying to watch TV or sleep on the sofa or something, but so far nothing had gotten her up. Her head was still foggy and a little achy, and she felt sluggish and sniffly, but at least she thought maybe her fever had gone down. Her phone pinged, muffled from where it had slipped down into her thick black comforter, and after an aggravated moment of digging through her bedding, she pulled it out and took a minute to blow her nose for the thousandth time while reading the message.
peter :What’s your address? Aunt May insisted on sending you some of her chicken noodle soup. It’s home-made, and I can swear it’ll fix your cold up.
She smiled at the phone, sighing a little. He was so sweet—she probably wasn’t contagious at this point, and she did want to see him…
me:well, if aunt may went to all that trouble then i can’t say no
She glanced around at the mess on her floor from the tissues that had missed the little black trash can and the empty water bottles, and finally heaved herself up out of her nest of bedding to tidy up a little.
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Peter’s eyes widened a little at the text showing her address, even standing on the corner of her street now. Aunt May had been surprised he didn’t know where she lived, but then more surprised still when they looked to see where it was. “My goodness, she lives in the Village?” And he wasn’t completely sure what to make of the way she’d said it, but facing the stoop that was supposed to be hers, he was starting to form an idea. She lived in a townhouse—not just an apartment, a whole townhouse, and not just a townhouse, a brownstone. It looked a little—a lot—aged, but the windows on the front were clean and the plants had been trimmed back for the winter, and the stoop was clean, the black metal fencing not rusted at all. For a moment, he wondered suddenly if she lived with someone she hadn’t told him about, and god he hoped he looked presentable enough as he climbed the stoop to ring her doorbell. It took a moment, long enough for him to panic a little that maybe he’d gotten the wrong place, but then sure enough, the door opened and there was [Y/N], cheeks rosy, nose red, fluffy black bath robe tucked close around her, old black slippers on her feet, hair a little mussed but tied back, and most notably her makeup was off and her eyes were a bit red—but overall, somehow, he couldn’t help but think she looked adorable as she saw that it was him, gave him a little smile, and shuffled in a little to let him inside, wiping at her face some with a tissue in her hand. “Hi,” she got out, tissue at her nose, “Come on, you’ll get sick standing out here too.” And just like that, her large, old door was shut behind him, and he was inside her brownstone with her.
Immediately, he felt mildly chilly—it was the feeling of emptiness, rather than the literal temperature of the air. Her foyer was narrow and a little claustrophobic, but she showed him where he could hang his coat, and then led him out and into the apartment proper. The place looked like her; dark wallpaper on the walls—actual wallpaper! It was a dark, deep purple and patterned with a sort of floral pattern. The floors were a varnished almost black wood, but she had rugs, older, somewhat eclectic rugs here and there, running the little corridor connecting the foyer with the front sitting room and then into the open, atrium of a room that had, he could see from there, the staircase. The front room was clean, but didn’t look terribly lived-in: a library, dark walls lined with shelves of old books and little knicknacks, some large rocks and crystals, a few animal skulls, pressed flowers in frames…the furniture was very vintage, obviously antique, but upholstered in deep violet fabric and adorned with black and gray and purple cushions; a loveseat, a small armchair, and a little coffee table. The most personal part of the room was at the bay windows, there was a reading nook, and resting there was a blanket in dark green with black patterns on it, and a stack of books resting on the cushioned seat. Peter smiled, seeing it, imagining [Y/N] sitting there and reading with her blanket. “My grandmother liked to use this room to entertain,” she said from the doorway, smiling, “I redecorated, but really only the colors. A lot of the things on the shelves were hers, and my mother’s.” Peter looked over at her. “Just the colors?” “I reupholstered the furniture. I always liked the style—was a nice project for me. Did the reupholstering, fixed up the wood finish, painted the shelves and had the wallpaper updated…” His eyes went wide as she gestured around. “You did all of this yourself?” “It was…nice,” she replied, sniffling a little and smiling to herself as she looked at the room, obviously remembering, “After she died. She’d always said it was important to make a space your own when it became yours—and it took me a year or so after she died to get around to it, but I got it done.” Peter followed her down the narrow hallway, past the paintings of landscapes on the walls, and into the adjoining room; it was like an atrium, high-ceilinged and with a little chandelier hanging from the apex of the roof, the staircase wrapping up around the wall to lead upstairs. Across from the dark stairs was a wide entryway into another living area: two plush, dark sofas, another short dark coffee table, a dark, soft area rug on the floor, a television. This room was much more lived-in; quilts on the sofas, some magazines and a remote on the coffee table, a few journals and notebooks, a spare pair of slippers. There were more shelves in here, these with movies and green plants, a few more books. A few antique light fixtures and an antique lamp, some used candles here and there. Under the stairs, though, was another entry, this one into a dining room that looked hardly touched, and then from there into a kitchen that linked the two rooms, and had a door leading outside and to the fire escape on the back of the building. The kitchen was cute, eccentric, spice racks and dark cabinets, plants, windchimes and suncatchers hanging, papers and notebooks on the kitchen island bar, dried herbs hanging over the countertop. It smelled like good food and it certainly smelled used, lived-in, and welcoming. “You cook?” He asked, watching her set the container of soup from Aunt May on the stove. She smiled. “I do; my grandmother liked to cook and I was always in the kitchen with her.” She opened the container, and smiled at the smell, closing her eyes a moment. “Ohh, this smells amazing.” She shut it again, sneezing into her tissue and looking apologetic. “You really didn’t have to come all the way over here while I’m like this…” “No!” Peter pushed off of the bar where he’d been leaning, stepping up closer to her, “No, if anything this is exactly when I should come all the way over here…” he rubbed the back of his neck a little awkwardly, smiling, “I didn’t realize you lived here, though,” he glanced out the kitchen windows, “You’re the one that’s been coming all the way over to Queens to see me!” [Y/N] just smiled, rubbing her nose. “I mean, I don’t mind it. I’m over there a lot for work, anyways.” Peter shifted a little closer, eyes on her rosy face. Even sick, she just looked…sweet. Lovely, in a disarming sort of way. “Well, then maybe now I can start coming over here, too.” [Y/N]’s smile widened a little, dimpling her cheeks. “I wouldn’t mind that, Parker,” she admitted, her voice soft and affectionate, and when he leaned in to kiss her it would have been perfectly charming and delightful if she hadn’t immediately sneezed and jerked back, just barely managing to cover her nose. Peter just laughed as she groaned and blew her nose, throwing her tissue away and shaking her head. He grinned, watching her shuffle to the trash can and back. “We can…we can try that again, y’know.” She sighed a very dramatic sort of sigh. “Maybe when it’s not such a hazard…” But Peter ducked down and kissed her cheek anyways. “I don’t know, it’s not so bad.”
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They shared Aunt May’s soup up in her bedroom. Peter was still a little in awe at how big the townhouse was, and that she lived alone, but her room was massive—like a studio apartment in itself. Black decor, moths and butterflies pinned in cases, plants and charms hanging around her room. Tapestries of the moon and its phases, of strange charts and symbols on her walls. Shelves with more crystals and odds and ends, candles, little statues he didn’t recognize. A desk and chair, and a high ceiling with a skylight opposite the side of the room her bed was on. They sat, she on her bed and he on the chair from her desk set next to her, and she chatted a little about the house as he tried (despite her repeatedly telling him it was fine) to fuss over her, made sure she had tissues handy and her water bottles were full and her pillows were all arranged comfortably. “My family owned this whole building years ago; it was a boardinghouse for a long time, but then they renovated, turned the building into apartments, and sold most of the other units,” she explained, “My parents and I lived in another unit, but my mother grew up here with my grandparents, and when my mom and dad died my grandmother took me in.” Peter paused on a spoonful of soup, watching her. “How…how old were you?” “Nine,” she replied, and gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, you know. I don’t mind if you ask.” He went a little pink, looking caught. “I still feel…like I don’t know how to tackle this kind of thing,” he admitted, “Even after losing my Uncle Ben.” She nodded, watching him. “It was recent?” “Yeah. Not quite ten years ago.” “Death is a strange kind of thing,” she said evenly, “It’s a natural part of time and life and the progression of everything but it still feels like it’s never the right time, like you can never really prepare for it.” He nodded. “Yeah.” “Losing my grandmother was like that, too,” she sighed, “Especially her leaving me the house and her things and all…” she shook her head, “Like I had all these things that were mine all my life but that felt like they weren’t supposed to be mine anymore…” she shrugged, “It was a weird process. Still is, in a lot of ways.” She glanced around, gesturing vaguely. “But, I grew up here. When she left me the brownstone, it was like…okay, this is mine now. I always loved living here, so…” she shrugged, “It’s my space, now.” Peter smiled at her, after a moment, feeling strangely touched to be sitting in this apartment with her. “Thanks for letting me in, then,” he said softly, and she smiled at him. “My grandmother would have liked you,” she grinned a little privately to herself, rolling her eyes fondly as she took another sip of soup. “I would never have heard the end of it if you’d showed up here with soup for me and she was still around.” Peter let out a little laugh. “That’s a relief, then.” “But she would have given you the business about bringing someone else’s soup for me,” she laughed, “Nona was The Cook around here.” She slurped up a piece of noodle, “I’m glad you did though. This is really good.” “I’ll pass that along to my Aunt,” he nodded, grinning, “She’s really disappointed you’re sick, she’s been hounding me to get you to come do Christmas with us.” [Y/N] paused, hearing this, and Peter rambled on a little awkwardly. “I told her you don’t really do Christmas, and you know, that you’re sick, just—” “—You want me to meet her?” Peter paused. For a charged moment, he and [Y/N] just sat in the quiet, looking at each other, and then he nodded. “Yeah,” he replied, “I really do.”
[Y/N]’s [e/c] eyes lit up, and her whole expression softened. “If I feel better, I’d love to do Christmas at your Aunt’s place.” Peter’s spoon clinked a little hard against his bowl in his lap, and his face was delighted. “Really? That’s—“ he was at a temporary loss, just smiling from ear to ear. “That’s…that’s great! Aunt May’ll be so excited, she’ll probably go a little nuts cooking, and I know you don’t really celebrate but you don’t have to—“ [Y/N] leaned over and pressed her lips to his, quieting the steady flow of words and smiling against his skin. Peter went still for a second, but then melted into the kiss and leaned closer to her on the bed, reaching up and cupping her cheek. This time, she didn’t sneeze, and nobody’s phone interrupted them. This time, their lips were both warm and soft, they tasted like chicken noodle soup and [Y/N]’s skin was maybe just a little too warm, but otherwise? It was perfect.
But, like all perfect things in Peter’s life these days, this made him realize how afraid he was that it could be taken away.
