Just a reminder that we’re soon going into our last week to vote. The votes have flooded in so far, but if you’ve not cast your votes yet, you have until April 10th to do it.
Now that nominations are over, we’ve collected all nominated stories into our Collection & Bookmarks on A03. To make it easier for you to browse, each category has it’s own Bookmark tag.
Just a reminder, if you don’t see a fic you’ve nominated in a category, some authors do not wish to participate. If you think a story has been accidentally left out, please let us know and we will look into it.
*The Diamond in the Rough category will be split into two, one for fics with 500 and under kudos and one with fics 500-100 kudos. Right now they are all within the same bookmark tag.
warnings: suggestive themes, toxic peter, manipulation, obsesssive and possessive behavior, hints of infantilization
summary: Ever since the accident that nearly sent you into a coffin, Peter has spent every moment with you out of fear of history repeating itself. Unfortunately, you love him too much to try and say anything about it.
author’s note: this is a part of my 1K followers present week. I hope you enjoy a slightly unhinged spidey boy.
On the night that Peter saw you falling forty stories from the ground, the crack in his behavior shattered into many pieces like a fallen mirror. To think if he did not arrive a second earlier, your neck would have snapped along with your shattering bones. The thought alone of your skin becoming entirely cold and red blood pouring over the gray cement—and it not being his intentional doing—made him vomit into his bathroom sink whenever he thought about it too hard.
Just the proposal of death almost being able to rap at your door was the reason you were under Peter’s warm body in his bed many weeks after the incident. It started slowly, like a boil. He suggested you stay over at his apartment to mentally recover from the situation, but one night turned into a day, which turned into a week. Now you were completely cooked and hadn’t been to your dorm room in months.
Before you even agreed to date him, Peter had his moments. It was as if one screw was never secured correctly whenever he would interact with you. He was always so physically demanding, even when he was only your friend. He would play with your hands and braid random strands of your hair. And when you started dating, he told you how many freckles that graced your pores as a joke.
synopsis:peter finds his way into your home and does something out of character, but it makes your heart soar.
pairing: peter parker x fem!reader
taglist: @sp1deys @inu1gf @stanmixtapes @wilczachannn @peterparkertheloml ( send an ask to be added! )
warnings:mildly injured peter parker, she/her pronouns used, LOTSA fluff!!!
author’s notes: i just hit 200 followers!!! holy cow thank you so much !!!! <3 my requests are open!!!likes+comments+reblogs are always appreciated!! <3
y/n’s eyes widened, hearing the sound of someone shuffling around on the fire escape beside the window in her room. she stared at the window, trying to rationalise with herself. it wasn’t uncommon for peter to pay her visits late at night after he did his patrol, claiming something about having to know if ‘his favourite person was tucked in nicely’, despite y/n claiming she could tuck herself in perfectly fine, ‘nope! nothin’ beats the old peter parker burrito blanket special!’ he would say in return.
the window started to slide open, y/n’s nerves easing as she saw the red and blue suit slowly roll through the window and dropping to the ground with a thud.
“peter what the fuck! i said be quiet when you do this!” y/n scolded him, keeping her voice quiet, but the tone harsh. obviously, she wasn’t actually mad at peter, but he was both risking her parents catching him and finding out he is spiderman.
“sorry,” he giggled getting up on his feet, a goofy grin on his face.
“hey, hey, c’mere..” y/n’s face softened, noticing a cut on his face, right across his cheekbone. she sat up and peter sat right in front of her, still smiling, “what happened?”
her hands went up to his face, cupping his cheeks gently, “i’m okay, just some drunk guy with a knife is all, you should’ve seen him, he was like swish fshh woosh, but then i was like fwip sheew pow.”
“i’m sure you were great out there, bug boy,” y/n laughed, walking over to her dresser and searching for the clothes he left there. once, she found a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, she threw them behind her.
“ow.”
y/n turned around to look at peter with the items of clothing over his head, “you can dodge bullets, but not clothes?”
“it’s- it’s complicated..” he smiled, removing the clothes from his face and standing up to get changed. his hand pressed down on the spider symbol branded on the chest of his suit and at an instant the suit fell down his body and he was left in his boxers.
“really? you wear your face on your boxers?” y/n raised an eyebrow at him.
“technically the mask isn’t my face.” peter covered his boxers with his t-shirt, his face red from embarrassment.
“i think it’s cute, maybe i can get a matching pair,” y/n chuckled grabbing a wet wipe from her dresser to clean up his face, waiting for him to get dressed. peter smiled to himself as he got changed, the idea of his girlfriend wearing merch of him making him all giddy inside.
“finally… bed time,” peter sighed, letting himself fall back onto the bed, smiling at y/n.
“did you hit your head why are you looking at me like that?” y/n smiled, laughing a little bit at his facial expression. he looked like a little puppy staring at his best friend in the world.
“missed you a lot, pretty girl.”
y/n’s eyes widened and she froze, just staring at peter, “are you sure you didn’t hit your head?”
peter just frowned dramatically at her, reaching his arms out and acting like if she didn’t join him in bed in the next three seconds he would just combust into flames. y/n rolled her eyes and got into bed with him, making sure to clean his face off before they cuddled. she held his face gently and as carefully as she could, she cleaned the dried blood off his face and cleaned the cut. even though she knew it would be gone in the morning, it was still hard to see the man she was so in love with getting hurt night after night.
“what’s on your mind, pretty girl?”
there it was again. that nickname. it sent butterflies straight to her stomach.
“oh, the usual - y’know, my very adorable boyfriend but his side hustle as bug man always getting him hurt,” y/n chuckled, throwing the wet wipe away and quickly planting a kiss on peter’s cheek, just under the cut to make sure that she didn’t hurt him.
“c’mere,” he mumbled grabbing y/n by the waist and pulling her on top of him. she smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck and looked up at him.
“there’s my pretty girl.”
it wasn’t that peter didn’t compliment y/n - oh, he did. a lot. but nicknames was something he never did, he wanted to of course, but he was just awkward and it never felt natural to him. but boy did it make y/n’s heart soar to hear the nickname ‘pretty girl’ coming from him.
“what’s with the nickname?” y/n laughed softly.
“what? you don’t like it?” he raised an eyebrow, he didn’t want her to be uncomfortable at all.
“no, no, i like it. i really like it,” y/n admitted, feeling slightly flustered, “i’ve just never heard you call me that.”
peter smiled, pulling her closer to him, “i just want you to know how pretty you are… you are so pretty.”
y/n knew he was sleepy, he usually got very sappy and sweet at bedtime, “and you, peter parker, are even prettier.”
he scrunched up his nose as she kissed his chin and laughed quietly, “i don’t think so, you can’t say that when i have the prettiest girl in new york in my arms.”
“just in new york?” y/n teased.
“in the world- no! in the universe!”
“you are so cute,” y/n chuckled, hiding her face in his chest.
“i love you, y/n… so much,” he sighed, his hands moving up from her waist to her back, “i am deeply in love with you, sometimes it’s distracting, but that’s good, because while i’m out spidermaning i have my pretty girl here waiting for me all pretty in her pyjamas.”
“you’re such a sap, i love you peter.”
“the avengers banned me from talking about you, said i can’t talk about you unless they meet you,” he laughed.
“they want to meet me?” y/n’s eyes widened.
“who wouldn’t want to meet you?” peter smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling at how widely he was smiling.
“maybe one day, but right now you better sleep, i’m lacking vitamin b.”
synopsis:spiderman shows up to his local convenience store, beaten up pretty badly, but he’s on a mission that only you can help him with. he needed his damn slushie.
pairing:peter parker x gn!reader
taglist:@sp1deys @inu1gf @stanmixtapes @wilczachannn @peterparkertheloml (send an ask to be added!)
warnings:very brief mentions of violence, wounds mentioned, none of these are described in detail, fluff, they/them pronouns used
author’s notes: i was inspired by a tiktok of a cosplayer, which i can’t find bc my fyp refreshed :( likes, comments + reblogs are appreciated!
fridays were a day that people often looked forward to; most people quite enjoyed fridays. the satisfaction of having a productive day, yet being able to relax at home and enjoy your time not thinking about getting up the next day for work, or school. not y/n. no. they did not like fridays at all. especially not after their boss had moved them on the roster to take the night shift on fridays. what was worse was that y/n worked that evening alone, not that it was a big deal seeing as it was a small convenience store and not many people would come in during the night, but still y/n had heard all about the convenience stores being victims of armed robberies, one even getting burnt down at some point.
the night shifts scared y/n. simple as. they could care less about the fact they’d have to stay up late, often staying at the store until the very early hours of the night, occasionally having to kick out a few drunk teenagers very obviously trying to steal from the place. y/n’s boss was an asshole, but still… it was an unwritten rule amongst thieves not to steal from small businesses, only to take from the corporations that wouldn’t notice a thing or two missing.
the ringing of store’s bell drew y/n’s attention away from the cash register and they looked up towards the door which was once painted neatly with a nice neat coat of forest green, but over the years the paint started to chip, exposing the wood underneath it. y/n’s eyes widened as they watched a beaten up spiderman walk over to the slushie machines. his suit was covered in rips, ranging from the size of y/n’s thumb to the size of y/n’s hand, to say they were concerned for the masked hero was an understatement. he had a gloved hand propped up under his chin as if he was deep in thought about the different flavours of slushies, but before y/n could ask him if he needed to go the hospital he turned to them. his mask was ripped in a way that revealed the bottom half of his face and one of the eyes had been broken, y/n guessing that it had unfortunately taken the blow of a punch during a fight. y/n could see one of his eyes through the broken eye of the mask and saw the softest chocolate brown puppy-dog eyes staring back at them.
“hey, sorry, how much is a cup of one of these?” he asked, his head tilting slightly, something peter did subconsciously, yet y/n smiled at the adorable action.
“you sure you wouldn’t rather have an ambulance?” y/n questioned laughing slightly, despite their concern for the masked superhero’s life.
a smile spread across his face, wincing slightly at the pain in his busted lip as he did so, “no, no, i’ll be fine, wouldn’t want to go to a hospital anyways, not after the night i’ve had.”
“if you’re sure, spiderboy,” y/n smirked, watching the hero cross his arms across his chest to express his dissatisfaction with the nickname (lightheartedly of course), “it’s on the house, whatever size cup and flavour you want, go wild.”
“are you sure? i don’t want to do that, i can pay! i have money, i know i look like i may not, um but i can pay!” peter protested, holding up his wallet just to prove that he in fact could pay for his slushie.
“take it as a thanks for saving the city,” y/n smiled and made their way from the counter towards the slushie machines, “so what size and flavour does the superhero desire?”
“hmm, tricky question,” he mumbled, turning back to the machines and placing a hand on his hip as his other reached up to his chin, reading the labels on the machines, “what’s your favourite flavour?”
“can you keep a secret?” y/n smiled cheekily at him, mischief obvious in the glint in their eye.
“i wont tell a soul!” peter did an ‘x’ motion across his chest, smiling at the person next to him.
“okay good, because if you did… i’d have to kill you and that would be tragic, who would rob me of my money for a free slushie!” y/n joked, making peter laugh nervously, “i’m kidding spidey, come here whenever you like, as long as the boss doesn’t find out i’m giving free drinks out.”
“thank you,” he smiled, his hand reaching up to the back of his neck to rub it.
“in the back we have a secret flavour, it’s my favourite.. it’s birthday cake flavour,” y/n explained, pointing their finger behind them and gesturing to the door that had “STAFF ONLY” plastered across it in a bright red.
“birthday cake slushie? that sounds interesting,” peter hummed, “i’ll take one, large cup please.”
“only because you asked so nicely, spidey!” y/n teased, “don’t worry, i’ll make it an extra large cup, looks like you could need it.”
“ouch, i thought i looked pretty good,” peter joked with a lopsided smile across his face.
“follow me,” y/n rolled their eyes playfully at him and led him towards the door with the threatening blocky text in bright red, “here it is, the real deal, queens’ finest!”
“queens’ finest? i’ll be the judge of that!” he laughed, ignoring the pain in his body as he did so.
“of course, only fitting for queens’ protector to judge it,” y/n nodded, laughing along with him and placing the cup under the slushie machine and filling it up. they placed a cover on the top and placed a plastic straw into the hole at the top of the plastic cover, “don’t tell anyone i’m giving you a plastic straw, just couldn’t have you drinking with a soggy straw.”
“man! your secret is safe with me as long as i can take home some of these, i hate those paper straws! they always get all wet and i have to drink out of the cup,” peter ranted, pleasantly surprised to find someone who shared the same opinion about paper straws.
“dude sometimes the straw gets so soggy i just end up accidentally eating it, like once… there was a good half of the straw gone,” y/n admitted, passing him the drink, “c’mon try it.”
“i’m not even gonna ask about you eating a straw…” he muttered, holding the cup up to his mouth so he could drink it through the straw. he paused for a few seconds and then looked at y/n with wide eyes, although they could only see one, “this- this is amazing! this is the most amazing thing i have ever had!!”
y/n smiled brightly at him, “i’m glad! now that it’s spiderman approved i’ll make millions from this,” y/n smirked playfully, the tone of their voice making it obvious that y/n actually wasn’t going to go through with branding it the spiderman approved slushie.
“ha ha, very funny,” he mocked sarcastically, trying to hide the smile that was itching to spread across his face, “so what’s your name? i feel like “shopkeeper” might not be your name.”
“actually, my name is shopkeeer, shopkeeper the third destined to a live behind a cash register!” y/n joked, getting themself a slushie, “i’m kidding, it’s y/n.”
“y/n,” he repeated as if he were testing out how their name would sound from his lips, “that’s a nice name.”
y/n had a surprised expression form across her face, but a smile still spread across it, “thank you, bug boy.”
“bug boy?” he laughed.
“yeah, bug boy!” they chuckled and then took a sip from their own slushie.
“you know technically spiders aren’t bugs,” peter corrected, a smug smirk on his face.
“yeah yeah, i know arachnid shmarachnid, whatever smarty pants,” y/n scoffed, a joking and playful tone to their voice. they paused for a second and then spoke again, “do you want to go to the roof, y’know some fresh air?”
“yeah, that’d be nice,” peter smiled at y/n, agreeing to meet them their in a few minutes, as y/n would have to temporarily close the shop to make sure no one came in and robbed the place and also seeing as peter could climb up there himself without having to go through the trouble of climbing up a fire escape. peter sat himself down on the edge of the roof, his legs dangling over the edge, as he looked up at the sky, his slushie in hand. despite almost losing a fight to a large group of armed men, he was enjoying himself. he felt at peace knowing that he had saved a group of slightly older women and that he had his slushie he had been craving the whole day. and maybe he was happy about his new slushie buddy too.
“hey there bug boy!” y/n called out, jogging up to him, “looks like someone’s deep in thought, a penny for your thoughts?”
peter just smiled, chuckling and turning his head slightly to look at y/n who was leaning on the slight wall he had been sitting on, he assumed that they may have been slightly scared that they’d fall off the edge, not that he would let that happen.
“just thinking about how nice it is at night, y’know forgetting about the criminals and stuff,” he shrugged, suddenly feeling really small and stupid talking about it, “it’s- it’s stupid, but-“
“not stupid at all, i promise,” y/n smiled genuinely at him, giving him a thumbs up to keep going.
“um, well, it’s just that.. it’s quiet at night, but it’s not so quiet that you feel alone, you can sometimes hear cars and the occasional group of people way too drunk to care about the time… it’s- it.. it’s nice, and it makes me feel less.. alone,” peter’s face started to heat up out of embarrassment, realising he was opening up to a complete stranger that didn’t even know who he was under the mask, but it touched him that a complete stranger was willing to treat him like he was not a hero and talk to him like he was a close friend and listen to him ramble, often like mj and ned would do.
“those are some deep thoughts, bug boy,” y/n smiled up at him, “i get what you mean, i don’t like silence much either, feels too much like i’m waiting for something bad to happen.”
“well, never fear because the friendly neighbourhood spiderman is here!” he joked, putting on an overly enthusiastic voice on, making y/n laugh, as they set down their slushie on the wall that reached just below their chest.
“my hero! how ever shall i repay you!” y/n dramatically gasped.
“free slushies forever.” peter tried to answer in a serious tone, but his smile kept cracking through the serious facade he had put on for the joke.
“your wish is my command, bug boy.”
“why thank you, y/n.”
“so, tough fight tonight?” y/n questioned, a curious eyebrow raising as they picked up their slushie again and taking a sip.
“yeah, a little.. but i won! you should see the other guys, they won’t be messing with anyone for a good while,” he smiled, this job although it came with very limited rewards, nothing would ever top the reward of knowing criminals were being put away because of him. well, maybe after tonight the the free slushie was the best reward he’d gotten yet, the churros he got from an old lady once had nothing on the birthday cake slushie.
“y’know i think you’re one of the coolest heroes, you do everything with no pay and you seem to enjoy it,” y/n shrugged, “i don’t know, maybe if i were a hero somehow, i’d like a little bit of compensation for my troubles.”
“well, this slushie is a pretty good compensation i think,” peter said, taking another sip of the slushie.
“consider it a payment for your service,” y/n smiled, “and maybe you can get that free slushie for life you wanted, only as long as you show up on fridays after nine, that’s when my shift starts.”
“you’re kidding right?” he looked at them puzzled, “you don’t need to do that, i was only joking.”
“and? if bug boy wants a slushie who am i to deny him of his slushie!” y/n exclaimed dramatically.
“does the slushies come with.. maybe your number?” he asked, knowing he may be pushing his luck with that question, but the smirk on y/n’s face telling him otherwise.
“smooth, spiderman.. very smooth,” she chuckled, “check the side of your cup.”
he looked down at the cup and turned it, looking for what they were hinting at. sure enough, on the side of the cup read a phone number and ‘call me? :)’, “when did you even do that? i didn’t even see you hold a pen for the entire night!”
“a magician never reveals their secrets,” y/n smiled proudly.
“do you just have a stash of cups either your phone number on them or something?” peter joked, tilting his head in a teasing manner.
“that’s pretty smart, but nope! i only give my numbers to the cute, but slightly disheveled looking superheroes that show up,” y/n teased.
“ohh, i see, you get a lot of those coming through here, then?” peter asked, a playful tone in his voice.
“unfortunately not, you’re the first, but i may need to beat the other heroes off with a stick from now on, bug boy’s the one getting free slushies from now on,” y/n laughed, finding their own joke amusing.
“oh yeah, because you just have a bunch of super heroes lining up to get your number,” peter rolled his eyes, a small smile across his lips.
“woah! okay then bug boy, no free slushie for you!” y/n scoffed, pretending to be offended by him.
“nooo! my free slushies!” he frowned playing along with their joke, “i take it back i’m sorry, anything but my free slushies for life!”
“hmm, i’ll consider giving you your free slushies back, if you promise to text,” a cheeky smirk formed on their face as they looked at the semi-masked hero.
“man… i don’t know if i can do that!” he exaggerated a sigh and frowned.
“damn, okay, spiderman has no mercy tonight,” y/n laughed.
“i’m joking, i’m joking i promise,” he laughed with them.
“this was really nice, but i’m gonna have to go reopen the store if i want to keep my job!” y/n smiled at the masked hero.
“thanks for hanging around with me, y/n! and thank you for the slushie, i’ll definitely be back!” he exclaimed excitedly and then started stuttering in a slightly panicked voice, “w-wait, no i meant i’d come back to see you, not-not just for the slushie, i swear.”
“you’re cute bug boy, i’ll see you around!” y/n waved at him, before making their way to the fire escape, reluctantly leaving the hero alone. peter sat there for a few more minutes, staring down at the cup and smiled at the phone number. he turned the cup around, fidgeting with it before he left the rooftop. he noticed the same handwriting on the other side of the cup and stared at the words ‘ur an idiot :)” staring at him.
I remember that Peter and the AcaDec Team were going on a Field Trip and there was this very important Guest (Or Speaker?) and Peter had to reveal his identity because someone attacked them and the building collapsed on them. Peter was able to hold the giant debris so people weren’t squished, but they were trapped under. He reassured a little girl and said they weren’t going to die and it was all going to be just fine. The Avengers found out and they literally rushed to the place and had to slowly look for Peter. They were able to find Peter, but when they lifted the debris from him, he colllapsed. The Guest Speaker went to have a press confrence speaking about how he thought in the beginning Peter was arrogant saying things like “It’s going to be alright” or “Everything’s gonna be ok” but realized that he was determined, not arrogant.
That’s all I remember from this fanfic. Hope you can help me find it.
By the way if you can type down more tags for me in the comment. I’m not completely aware of the tags frequently used in this fandom. Like is there any Avenger Fam? Or smth.
Peter had successfully kept his identity a secret from everyone, so maybe he had gotten a little careless and smug about it, working as an intern right under Stark’s nose. But it wasn’t like he could’ve known that he wasn’t supposed to lift Thor’s hammer, right?
Also known as the five times Peter lifted Thor’s hammer, without knowing what he was doing. Plus the one time where things became all too clear…
“Today is a remarkable day in history!” Doom announced, lifting his arms to the sky. “For today, the rule of the Avengers ends! Today…the rule of Doom begins!”
Not a single person present, whether they were shaking uncontrollably in the crowd or raising their arms in victory as electric sparks rained down around them, really knew what quite to expect next. But what did happen next, nobody possibly could have anticipated.
Someone laughed.
It was just a little snicker, something that normally would’ve been lost in the din of the crowd, but it rang like a gunshot in the deafeningly quiet street.
Doom had to scan the crowd for several tense seconds before he finally located him. The grinning teenage boy, shaking with poorly repressed laughter.
When he noticed Doom staring at him, he only laughed harder.
“I–I’m sorry, Doom?” he managed to get out, between gasps for breath. “That’s what you decided to call yourself? Doom?”
(Doctor Doom, in defeating the Avengers, finds himself facing a new, unlikely challenger.)
the one where peter parker got outed by the official stark industries account and suddenly he is new york’s newest social media celebrity (with an additional avengers following).
/also please someone stop him from actually creating a spider-man account to get the attention off him/
Summary: Gwen Stacy’s best friend is dead. Besides her grief, Gwen has a chance to change her destiny saving Peter.
A/N: Thinking about this since a long ago. I don’t know how many parts is gonna have, just hope it doesn’t suck way too much.
Warnings: idk, this may be pure crap.
Two months. It’s been two months since he died. Twenty minutes before it happened, Gwen Stacy waved him goodbye after their study-date for an important chem exam they were having by the end of the week. Peter Parker crossed the street and turned back to smile at her once more. He wanted a way much more affectionate goodbye but never got the guts to confess to her the way he felt. She knew it anyway because Peter was everything but good keeping secrets. At least, that’s what they all thought.
In two months Ned and Gwen haven’t left Aunt May’s apartment. The woman lost her husband not so long ago, and now her beloved nephew was gone too. Peter made her life meaningful, she repeated on and on, but now everything was nonsense. May didn’t want to be alone and Peter’s best friends didn’t want to let her on her own. Harry Osborn was extremely generous with May, who was in a delicate situation. She got a couple of days off of work that soon became a couple of weeks and then a couple of months. The hospital was going through a financial crisis and couldn’t pay her salary if she couldn’t cover her guards. Harry paid for Peter’s funeral as well. Mary Jane says he does it because he feels guilty. Gwen didn’t know what to think about. Ned never trusted him but was too devastated to think of another thing but Peter and the fact he will never see his best friend again.
Mary Jane and Gwen never talked about Peter. They accorded it a long ago, the two girls were afraid of ruining their friendship if they open up about their feelings for him. Deep inside Gwen thought MJ played with Peter’s feelings for too long, and MJ thought Gwen was way too friendly with her ex-boyfriend. Losing him wasn’t helpful. Bitterness filled them hearts. “If she didn’t give him false hopes maybe Peter would move on”.
“You know this is not good for you Gwen. You need to come clean about how you feel”. Aunt May is a wise person and Gwen knows it, but she was scared and sad and didn’t have the strength to face a fight, not with Mary Jane, or anyone, to be honest. She only wanted to see him once again. It was impossible. Not even in her dreams. May dreamed with Peter once. Ned did a couple of times and remembered him all of the time. Gwen started to forget his face, just two months after he left. She stopped at the framed pictures of him in the apartment and stayed looking at them trying to keep fresh the image of a smiling Peter, or a dork Peter, or a serious Peter. Not the last image of him, not the image of his face covered with bruises, his bleeding mouth, his broken nose. She wanted that smiling Peter back, she needed him.
She went back to where they find him. Spiderman. No mask, tho. Peter Parker. Far from looking like the nice boy from Midtown High. She couldn’t believe it. It makes so much sense now, how many times he risked his own life to save her dad, only getting the police persecution in return. Captain Stacy found him just a couple of blocks away from his own house. He prayed for his daughter to be home, he prayed for her do not see her friend is such state. But destiny is cruel and karma is a bitch. How many times Captain George Stacy cursed on Spiderman’s name in front of Peter and Gwen? Spiderman was Peter Parker. He hated Spiderman but liked Peter far enough to call him son one day in the future. If Gwen has had arrived in her house a couple of minutes before, if she wouldn’t forget her textbooks at the library, maybe she wouldn’t have seen the crime scene, maybe her last memory of him would be he smiling at her from across the street. Not his body surrounded by a pool of his own blood, not his beaten and swollen face.
A tear started rolling down her cheek.Gwen pressed shut her eyes and took a deep breath, wishing it be her last breath. She never thought she would feel this way, but the weight of her loss was way too heavy to carry on.
“Stacy? What are you doing here?” the voice came from behind the trash dump placed at one corner of the alley. She would recognize that voice anywhere, anytime. No, it is not possible, you’re starting to have hallucinations, you got to get out of here Gwen, get your shit together. “Pss, Gwen, I’m here, behind the trash”. Scared the shit out of herself, Gwen started running in the opposite direction, heading to her parent’s house, five blocks away from that goddam alley.
“Oh, hi sweetheart” her mom greeted her from the kitchen. “What happened? you look like you’ve seen a ghost!” she stated once she saw the petrified expression on Gwen’s face. “P-Pe-Peter, mom, I saw Peter”. Mrs. Stacy gave her daughter a confused sight. “Okay Gwen, Peter may be a little paler than others but he’s not a ghost” she joked and turned back to the kitchen. “He came here, by the way. Said something about the exam you have this Friday and left”.
“What you mean by he was here talking about the exam, mom what the fuck!?”
“Language, Miss”.
“Mom if this is one of your jokes, I swear… it’s not funny”.
“No Gwen, why would it be a joke? He was looking for you but you weren’t here and he left because he’s doing the grocery shopping for May. He’s such a sweet and considerate boy. Gwendolyn Maxine Stacy, God knows if you don’t care enough about him another girl will”.
“I don’ feel fine, I’d better go upstairs”.
“Hi Gwen”.
Mrs. Stacy heard her daughter screaming, and make her way upstairs to check if everything was alright.
“Gwen, hija, is everything okay?” Mrs. Stacy asked behind the door. Pressed on the other side, Gwen replied to her mother: “It’s okay ma, it’s just, I, I saw a spider. But it’s fine, it’s fine, it’s not here anymore”.
“Oh, Gwendolyn, for god’s sake you’re eighteen years old, kill the fucking bug”. Mrs. Stacy leaves, shaking her head in disbelief.
“W-what are you doing here!? I thought, I … no, it’s not possible. You’re dead!”
“Yeah, kind of. C’mon babe, help me with these” his face was muddy with dirt and blood. He came closer, putting his hands on her waist and her hips. Gwen, petrified by what she was experiencing, didn’t react to his actions. Not even when he makes the distance between their lips disappear, pecking hers softly, avoiding to add too much pressure to his swollen and bleeding lips.
“What the fuck was that gorgeous?” Peter asked his girlfriend. His eyes traveled from her lips to find her confused sight. “I mean, it wasn’t explicit but I was asking you for some help in the alley” he chuckled, amused by the inexplicable panic expression on Gwen’s face.
“Peter… you’re Spiderman”.
“Uh-huh, yeah, until last time I checked. Are you fine Gwen? Did you hit your head or something?”
“What, when … how have this happened!? Peter think about May! You’re everything to her”.
“Wow, Stacy, chill dude. I’m fine, May’s fine. This… this is the correct thing to do. But now, hand me those pieces of clothing you’ve been stealing from me before your mom enters without knocking the door and sees me with the suit on. Unless you want me to stay without clothes, I wouldn’t complain”.
“Peter! What the fuck, no, stop”. Gwen covered her eyes with her hands when Peter started to take off the Spiderman suit. He laughed at her reaction. It wasn’t the first time he did that in front of her, and he had his underwear on, she definitely had seen him fully naked before. Gwen was acting weird he thought, but it was fun.
“Peter, my mother can’t see you, you have to leave now”.
“Shit, you’re right, I came for you like forty minutes ago, there’s no way I could make my way upstairs without her to notice… That’s why I love you, always thinking about everything”. Peter kissed Gwen once more, this time he didn’t care about his injured face. He grabbed his own clothes from Gwen’s closet and dressed up quickly. “Remember we have this meeting with Mr. Fury in a couple of ours, that’s why I came here in the first place. But is not something I can tell your mom. I mean Hey Mrs. Stacy, can Gwen come with me to an Avengers meeting, nothing serious, just saving New York from another alien invasion, and maybe dick her down at the Avengers tower after that. Ha, I don’t think so. I’ll pick you up at 11. Suit up”.
Suit up? Avengers Tower? DICK HER DOWN!?
“Gweeeeen, MJ is here”.
“It’s okay Elena, I can go upstairs, she must have the headphones on”.
“Fine Chelle, just tell your friend dinner’s on 15 minutes”.
“I’ll do Mrs. Stacy. And thanks again for the invitation”.
Michelle made her way upstairs, always the same, admiring the paintings hanged on the walls. Mrs. Stacy is such a talented artist, how lame it is she secludes herself in her housewife role. Gwen’s room door was partially open, so she entered without knocking.
“Hey, take those off you dumbass” Michelle said playfully kicking her friend who was lying on the floor. As she guessed, Gwen got her headphones on.
“What the f…” Gwen turned around to find a very changed, almost unrecognizable MJ. Gwen sat up and then stand in front of her friend, examining her with curious eyes.
“Mary Jane, what did you do with your hair!?”
“Uh ehrm, I know my hair looks like shit but what the fuck happens to you!? You missed the rehearsal. Gwen if you keep doing this to us we’ll have to find someone else”.
“Rehearsal!? Mary Jane what are you talking about!? All this is so weird. I just saw Peter, he, he came through the window and then left” And he kissed me she thought, but didn’t get the guts to tell MJ.
“Gwen you’re starting to scare me. Okay, Pete came through the window and that’s creepy but he’s Spiderman so, we must get used to it. And yes, this is the third rehearsal you skip. I know you are busy with your superhuman duties and everything but if this is too much for you, we gotta talk about it for what is best for the band”. Michelle tried to calm her friend down, but with every word, Gwen’s confusion grew more and more.
What did she mean with superhuman duties? And since when she knew Peter was Spiderman!? And she didn’t seem surprised or mad at the fact her ex-boyfriend entered her best friend’s room by the window. In fact, she stated it was a common thing. Does Peter visit her in the same way? Does he has clothes in her closet and passionately kiss her before leaving her bedroom by the window? Gwen felt a blinding headache, and the next thing she knew was she collapsed on her bedroom’s floor.
“Yeah, I don’t think she can make it to the meeting tonight. She seems very confused and keeps calling me Mary Jane, I know, weird as fuck. So that’s all Petey, I’ll call you again if we have some news. Good luck with your business. Bye”.
“Oh, look at you Sleeping Beauty. Your charming prince isn’t here yet but he’ll come after the Avengers reunion”.
“Where am I!? Mary Jane!?” Gwen woke up from her little nap in a hospital’s bed. The bright whiteness of the room hurt her eyes, he tried to sit up but her blurred vision and shaking moves told her to stay lay down.
Michelle looked at her friend with preoccupied eyes. “Seriously Gwen, enough with that Mary Jane shit. I’m Michelle, Michelle Jones, your best friend. Remember me?”.
“Michelle Jones?” Gwen mumbled before blacking out again.
“Is she going to be fine?” Peter asked, really worried about his girlfriend state.
“Sure Peter-Man, there’s nothing to be worried about. Stacy’s gonna be fine”.
“Thanks, Mr. Stark. I-I really appreciate what you’re doing for us”. Peter turned his sight to his unconscious girlfriend and Dr. Stephen Strange, placed on the other side of the room stated that she was going to wake up soon.
“Peter, I think you should go and help May comforting her parents. Stephen and I have to talk with Gwendolyn and how weird it would be for George and Elena to find us here? Go, kid.” Peter nodded and did what Tony Stark asked him to do.
“He doesn’t have a clue of what it’s happening,” Tony said with a bit of sadness in his tone.
“Neither she”. Strange examine Gwen’s lost sight. She was still very shocked about everything but started to imagine what was happening. Dr. Stephen Strange presence was only confirming her doubts. But, how?
“Gwen, can you hear us?” Tony grabbed her hand in a fatherly way. He was as worried as Peter, maybe even more. He felt responsible for his web-slingers. May wanted to kill him already, he didn’t want Mr. and Mrs. Stacy to hate him too. “May we have a word?”.
Gwen sat up abruptly. “All this is so weird. I, I want to see Peter, please Mr. Stark”.
“You’ll see our spider friend later. Now we need to talk about what happened in that alley Miss Stacy” Dr. Strange was intimidating, he wanted to go straight to the point. How this Gwen Stacy appeared in this universe and what happened with Spider-Gwen. “You aren’t the Gwen Stacy we know”.
“What are you talking about. Of course, I’m not, I don’t know you”. Gwen felt tired and dizzy, her vision started to get blurry again.
“Calm down Gwen, we know this is too much for you right now, but we need you to tell us why are you here. If you don’t know how did you traveled to this universe at least can you tell us what is happening around there in yours”. Tony was playing the ‘good cop’, trying to gain her trust.
“I don’t know how it happened” Gwen sobbed, memories from the last weeks fill her mind and overwhelmed her spirit. “I stopped by the crime scene on my way home. In my head I recreated the facts, Peter lying dead on his Spiderman suit. Mask off. Surrounded by forensics, my dad was there too”.
“Peter what?!” Tony freaked out, started walking around the white room as a caught lion. When did this happen Gwen? A date, we need the date” he screamed.
“Easy Stark. October 20th. Five blocks away from Gwen’s house”. Stephen gave her a sympathetic smile.”I brought you here”.
“What the hell Strange!?” Tony grabbed Stephen’s shoulders and shook him.
“I’m not entirely sure about it, but someone exchanged our Gwendolyn Stacy, the one with spider powers, for this one. The Gwen Stacy from another universe where Peter Parker is dead”.
“Peter’s okay here, he’s alive, he’s protected by you. I, I don’t have superpowers”. Gwen’s headache and tiredness barely allowed her to keep talking.
“That is another thing I’m not sure about” Strange found Gwen’s phone on the bedside table and made it levitate high enough to guarantee it wouldn’t survive to the fall. Gwen caught it with a web shot.
“Gen Z, you can threaten them with killing their smartphones or their parents and they wouldn’t hesitate”. Strange smirked. “Now we know you have powers, at least since you arrived in this universe”.
“Okay, now I’m as confused as her, Strange. Can you explain what is happening?”
“Peter’s gonna die in a month unless we do something to avoid it. And for some reason, I think the only person who can save him from his destiny is this young lady”.
“October 20th” Tony mumbled, realizing it was, in fact, a couple of weeks to go until Peter’s death date.
“You have to return to your universe Gwen, but first we need to make sure your powers are traveling with you this time”. Those were the last words Gwen heard from Dr. Strange before her eyes fluttered shut once more.
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: 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?”
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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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It’s that time of the year again…Spider-Man stops by to help you out.
AN: for all of y'all studying hard, we’re with you, ‘til the end of the line
You knew the brain is not technically a muscle. You knew that because, while studying, you had read about the attributes of the nervous system and muscle tissue ten times over. You were familiar with the functions and shapes of a neuron’s dendrites and the various fibers that comprise the various sinew types. You were well-versed in how the nerves connected, how they told the muscles to move. You knew it all, all for your Anatomy & Physiology final.
With a groan, you let your head slip from your hands and land softly against the thick notebook spread out on your desk. Maybe, if you pressed your forehead hard enough against the pages, you could absorb the knowledge you needed through osmosis. It was tempting to try. Your eyes felt heavy, weighed down by the draw of a nap, a break. Though, the second you closed your eyes, the dark that met you filled with diagrams of skeletal structures and tendons. When you managed to push through those, you were met with mathematical equations and the names of literary devices, every other concept you memorized for your every other final.
It was dizzying. Worst of all, there was no rest from it as, when you opened your eyes, your study guides greeted you. They taunted you, really, at this point. The words and numbers and terms swirled together into a puddle of mush that, despite all the power behind your neurons, your brain lacked the strength to decipher. In a vain, desperate attempt to escape the scorching sneering of your class materials, you closed your eyes once more.
Yet, only for a moment.
Just as the ghosts of subjects studied past began to haunt your headspace, there was a tapping at your bedroom window. Immediately, you lifted your head and eyed the glass. The dark outside was all you saw until the grogginess cleared, foggy tendrils pulling away from your vision. Then, you saw the familiar tones of red and the pair of buggish, white eyes.
Any lingering doubt about the masked man at your window faded when he lifted a gloved hand and eagerly waved. At the sight, a small laugh slipped from your mouth; though, you smothered it quickly to not alert your housemates to your newest guest.
“Shh, hold on,” you whispered as you stood from your chair and padded over. Quickly, with fumbling, nervous fingers, you unlatched the window lock. You pushed up and a blast of cool, December air hit your face, followed by the softer touch of a gloved hand.
“Hi, you,” came Peter’s voice, muffled ever-so-slightly by his mask. Despite the obstruction, you could hear the upwards tilt of a smile in his words.
“Hi,” you replied, trying to mirror his chipper tone. It failed, evidenced by how Peter’s hand slipped from your cheek and his head cocked to the side.
“What is it?”
You let out a dramatic sigh and pulled away from the window sill. Defeated, you collapsed back in your chair, watching as Peter clambered inside, shut the window, and drew the curtains. He turned to look at you, dropping his backpack on the floor.
“Are you okay?” He darted over to you, hands outstretched, rubbing your shoulders before you started to shake your head. Peter leaned away to look into your eyes.
“Finals,” you groaned, gesturing towards your desk full of papers. “I’ve been studying for…well, I don’t know how long. A while.”
“Oh,” he pulled off his mask and met your eyes. You could not help but smile that the sight of him: brown eyes full of concern and hair a mess. “Which ones?”
“All of them.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” you replied, your smile shifting into a frown as you flicked your gaze towards your open notebook. “Not everyone is a genius like you. Some of us are just average.”
“N-No, you’re not average.”
Peter’s brows furrowed and he stepped over to stand before your chair. He reached his hands out to you, your face. The fabric of his gloves tickled your cheeks but you leaned into his touch anyway. Waves of warmth emanating from his covered palms eased the whirlpool of worry and memorized facts that made up your mind.
“You’re amazing,” he said, so earnestly you felt a new kind of dizzy, “and you’re gonna do great.” A sound of disbelief slipped past your lips and, instantly, Peter’s brows furrowed. “Y/N.”
“I’ve studied but I don’t feel ready,” you began to explain, “I never feel ready, not really, but there’s just so much and-what? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I mean, ‘cause you said it yourself: you never feel ready but you do a pretty good job anyway, right? I would say that’s ‘cause you’re amazing.”
“I guess you’re right…”
“Iama genius,” Peter teased, tipping his head towards yours. “Like you said.”
“And I stand by that,” you said, throwing your arms around his neck to pull him closer. His brown eyes grew darker with your proximity and you heard his sharp intake of breath. Your noses brushed against Peter’s, a quiet, subtle ask for permission. He echoed the action and you smiled before pecking his lips with your own.
It was the softest of kisses, one that lasted for hardly a handful of seconds before you pulled away. Yet, it was enough to clear your mind. Every thought was replaced by Peter, the sensation of his lips and hands on you. The peace of the feeling overwhelmed you, forced you to pull away, or risk never coming up for air.
When Peter’s eyes met yours, you knew he understood but there was a glint in his eyes that made your stomach twist. He knocked his nose against yours again.
“If I use my genius to help you study later, you think you could take a break now?”
There was no use in trying to bite back the grin that spread across your lips. You nodded and brushed your nose against his once more. “Absolutely, I could.”
“Awesome,” Peter beamed, his hands slipping from your face to your hips, lifting you out of your desk chair and against his chest. He kissed you again, harder this time, always happy to help in your time of need.
Spider-Man is always saving people, making sure people feel safe. But who makes sure Spider-Man feels safe?
Peter Parker was as stiff as a board.
His every muscle was tensed, flexed into stillness. Not even the rumble of the bus wheels against the road could shake him from his solid stance. Though, in his head, he cursed every pothole that threatened to jostle the peace he held still. In short, Peter was, to a silly degree, dedicated to not disturbing you or your slumber against his shoulder.
Your cheek was pressed to his arm, spreading a warmth that dulled the ache of a late-night ride home. If he let himself, Peter would lean in too, rest his head on top of yours and sleep away the end of the field trip. It would be so easy. It would be so warm and soft, and yet Peter was immovable. While his reluctance to shift in his spot was rooted in a fear of waking you, it was also rooted in the fear of and nervousness of a teenage boy in love.
“Hey P-wow, Y/N is zonked, huh?” Said nervous teenage boy flicked his eyes from you to Ned. His friend’s head popped up from behind the back of the seat situated in front of Peter.
“Y-Yeah,” Peter replied, “I don’t…I can’t move.”
“I’m sure Y/N wouldn’t mind if you scoot over.”
“No, it’s not that I-” as Peter began to explain, you shifted against him. Your face then sat closer into the crook of his neck. The new proximity immediately brought Peter’s focus to you. His breathing faltered and face pinked.
Ned let out a hushed, breathy chuckle and said, with far too much, sudden knowing, “good luck, man.”
Peter bit back a groan of alarm as his friend turned around, leaving the two of you terribly, wonderfully alone in your row of seating. As if, even sleeping, you could sense his distress, you pressed yourself closer to his side. Peter blamed the movement on whatever dream danced behind the dark of your eyelids. Blamed wasn’t entirely the right word for it though, Peter thankedthe dream that danced behind the dark of your eyelids as whatever it was lulled you to him. He could be grateful despite the nerves.
It was easy to be grateful, especially when it came to you. With you so close, Peter could readily admire the curves of your cheeks, the gentle fanning-out of your lashes, and the creaseless rest of your brow, relaxed in sleep. How rare it was to see you so at peace, with the stresses of the day invisible in your features. How rare it was to see you so close up!
At the thought, Peter was reminded of how your body fit against his and his nerves. He swallowed hard and averted his gaze, throwing his attention out the window. Peter tried to drown himself in the scattered lights that speckled the dark like large fireflies. Desperate to ignore the warmth of you, he even craned his neck up towards the sky. He saw the faintest of stars shining in the navy night. More stars than he would see in the city, anyway.
Light pollution stole the sight of constellations in Queens and while the class was by no means driving through the country, Peter found himself romanticizing the more open stretches of land. It was easy to do with the stars in the sky and you on his shoulder. And just like that, you consumed his thoughts again. Not even the window, the world outside, could grant him an escape from you. Escape was too cruel of a word.
Peter never wanted to escape you. You were the first person he ran to when things became too much. When he was beaten down, physically or emotionally, you somehow always managed to lift his spirits. Your smile eased any ache and did so faster than even his advanced healing.
But you also made things difficult. Like when you fell asleep on the way back home from a field trip, your head on Peter’s shoulder, looking as soft as ever. Or like when everything around him, from the stars shining through the window to the idle brushings of knees, reminded him of you. Peter saw you in everything, felt you too, partly due to his heightened senses. To him, you burned as brightly as any star, unhindered by any pollution, any darkness that swallowed everything, everyone, else up.
You burned even as you slept, shimmering under the streetlights as the bus passed and warming Peter through the chill of the AC.
So, when the bus drove over a large pothole and your eyes fluttered open, your closeness was overwhelming. Sleepily, your shifted, barely lifting your head from Peter’s shoulder to glance around. Peter’s eyes widened at the sight and he flicked his gaze quickly away from your face.
“Are we back?” Your voice was low, heavy with disuse.
“Uh, uh no. Not yet. Bumpy road, though,” Peter mumbled, tripping over his words. He looked at you with quick, panicked glances and saw you frown.
“Yeah,” you grumbled as you met his eyes. “Sorry for falling asleep on you.”
“Oh, no,” Peter shook his head, “it’s fine. It’s cool.” He swallowed hard before adding, nervously, “You can…you can go back to sleep, if you want.”
“I’m not hurting your shoulder?” Peter smiled at your concern, at how you were worried about him despite your half-open eyes and sleepy swaying.
“No, you’re not,” you could never hurt me.
“Okay,” you murmured, leaning your head back on Peter’s shoulder. “Wake me when we get back?”
“Of course, yeah,” Peter replied, his body untensing the second you rested back against him. While he kept his body taught, to ensure he wouldn’t wake you like the petulant pothole had, he let himself relax. He felt that he could, knowing that you wanted to be there, so close to him. Knowing that you knew he wanted you there, so close to him.
Peter even let himself fall back too, let his head rest on top of yours. Your warmth kissed his cheek and numbed any lingering nervousness. The thought of whatever worries waited for him in the city and the star-drowning skyscrapers were pushed away by your shine. In your light, Peter Parker felt safe enough to close his eyes.
Things have been different since you returned from Europe; since Peter told you his super-powered secret. The two of you had been distant. School and Peter’s ‘extracirruclar’ activities had taken over your lives. Luckily, you and Peter have a group project that brings you closer than ever before.
“How long have we been working on this?” Peter asked through a yawn.
“Stop it,” you said, waving at hand at him. Though, it was too late. A yawn forced its way to your face and you groaned through it.
Peter, under the heat of your mildly amused glare, let out a small laugh. “Sorry.”
“Sure you are,” you teased, reaching for your phone. Your eyes widened when you saw the time. “No, no that can’t be right.”
“I think it might be,” Peter said, his voice sounding far away. When you looked over to where he was sat, you saw only empty space. Quickly glancing around the room, you found him by his bedroom window. He pulled the curtains to the side and revealed the darkness of night that had settled over Queens.
“We’re not even close to finished with this,” you said, running a hand through your hair. “Did we spend hours just talking?”
“Guess we lost track of time,” Peter agreed, moving to sit across from you once more.
On the floor before you were scattered papers; some riddled with nasty equations and others were scholarly articles lifted from the school’s database. You and Peter had barely begun to scratch the surface of the project assignment. Your eyes flicked over the rubric and your hands lifted to hold your head up as all your energy suddenly morphed into worry.
“Hey,” you felt Peter’s warm hand on your upper arm, anchoring you to reality. “It’s not due ‘til next week. We have time.”
You met Peter’s brown eyes and your hands fell from your face. Nerves that claimed you melted into the floor of Peter’s new bedroom, leaving only the two of you, staring at each other. The corner of his mouth was quirked up in that infuriatingly charming half-smile he favored around you. How you had missed that smile. How you had missed him.
At the thought, your worry resurfaced. “Will we though?”
Peter cocked his head to the side. “Will we…what?”
“Have time?”
“What do you mean?” Peter’s hand fell from your arm, leaving you to face the chill your questioning created. With a small sigh, you summoned the courage to reply.
“This is the longest we’ve hung out in….in a while. I know you’re busy with Spiderman things, I get it, I do, but since Europe it’s like become ghosts to each other. Does…does that make any sense? I mean, I,” you swallowed hard and you met Peter’s eyes, “I miss you.”
Peter’s furrowed brows relaxed at those last three words. His hand reached out again, gently taking your hand. You glanced down at his fingers as his rubbed his thumb along your knuckles. The relationship you had with Peter had always been friendly and full of friendly touches. Though something about the tenderness of his hand on yours made your stomach twist. Not with nerves but a tickling sort of excitement.
“I-I’ve miss you too, Y/N. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too,” you said softly. Peter gave your hand a squeeze and gave you another one of his lopsided smiles.
“We’ll make time for each other. And the uh, the project.”
“Okay,” you tried to match his smile.
“Cool.”
A sweet silence filled the air. The ticklish twisting in your gut subsided, melted into the steady beating of your heart as you found yourself wholly entranced by the shine in Peter’s eyes. You had noticed it in Europe: the newness that surrounded Peter. He was braver than the boy you had grown up with before the Blip, but still himself. The time you had spent apart had made that all the more clear. That, and knowing his Spider-Man-sized secret.
“Y/N, there’s something that I’ve wanted to tel-”
Just as Peter was about to continue, his phone hummed with a loud alarm. The sound made you both jump, though Peter recovered quickly. He got to his feet and picked up the device from his bedside table.
“Oh crap,” he murmured. When he turned to face you, you were greeted with a frown and sorry eyes. Your heart sank at the sight.
“What is it?”
“I gotta patrol.”
“Oh,” you nodded sadly, looking around the room for your things; looking anywhere but at Peter. “Then I guess I better go.”
A low, thoughtful hum filled your ears and coaxed you to peer back up at Peter. One of his hands scratched at the back of his neck, almost nervously. Despite his lips being pressed into a thin line, the glinting in his eyes told you there was something he wanted to say.
“What?”
“I could…uh, give you a ride, kinda, sorta?”
You raised your brows and widened your eyes. “You got a car?”
“What?! Oh! No, I mean,” Peter rushed over to his closet door and, with a quickness that was beyond human, pushed it open to reach inside. He pulled his arm back and revealed the device in his hands. “I got this. I could swing you home.”
“You…you mean…”
“Only if you want,” Peter raised his hands, “I know heights aren’t everyone’s favorite thing so-“
He was beginning to backpedal, to rescind his frightening yet exciting offer. Before he could, you swallowed the clot of fear that had caught in your throat and nodded.
“Yes,” you gave him a smile, “yeah, a ride would be nice.”
“O-Okay! Great! Um, let me get ready.”
Peter crouched suddenly and, in a flash, a white web shot out from the gadget in his hand. It reached under his bed and, when Peter pulled back on the sticky webbing, a suit of red and black landed in his grip. You blinked, your eyes flickering between the suit and Peter’s proud smile. His brown eyes seemed to shine under the light of your impressed expression.
“Wow. Now, you’re just showing off.”
Peter let out a soft laugh and, with rosy cheeks, duck his head to hide his face. He nodded towards the floor and lifted his gaze to meet yours once more. Pink still dusted the peaks of his face. His fingers tightened around the material of his suit, a nervous squeeze that stole your attention away for a moment. When you looked back up at Peter, you saw that the shade of his blush had only deepened.
“I need to…” he raised his suit in his hands and refused to hold your gaze. You had never seen Peter so bashful and– your mouth fell open with realization.
“Oh, yeah, sorry. I’ll just grab my stuff and wait outside,” you said, bending down to pick up your things. Folders and papers slid from your fingers and into your bag in a rushed mess. Heat gathered in your cheeks, the burning of an embarrassed blush; similar, you imagined, to Peter’s. You didn’t want to give him the chance to see.
“Alright,” Peter coughed roughly to clear his throat, ideally the room, of the new, heavy tension within. “It’ll only be a second.”
“Cool, good,” you straightened your posture and threw you bag over your shoulder. In two paces, your hand was within reach of the door. Rustling of fabric reached your ears; Peter must have already started to change. Your heart pounded at the thought and you quickly closed your fingers around the bronze door handle. Without thinking, you stepped to the side to open it.
With the shift, you caught a glimpse of Peter’s bare back. Shaded and sloping valleys of flesh and muscle flashed before you vision. Scattered freckles dotted the skin of his shoulders, something you had never noticed before. It was something you wished you hadn’t noticed because it froze you in place. Eventually, you were overwhelmed by a new wave of heat that thawed you out. You tore your eyes away and pushed yourself through the door, slamming it when you had meant to shut it softly.
Shit! Your head fell back and knocked against the wood of the door with a dull thud. Trembling, a small breath passed over your lips. Like your every nerve ending, it hummed around you, filled the air until all you felt was the wild thunderstorm of your heartbeat.
“Y/N?”
Wide-eyed, you tilted your head back upright and locked eyes with Peter’s Aunt May. Her surprise melted into a wide grin and she stepped towards you, arms open.
“It’s been so long!”
“Y-Yeah,” you stammered out. You leaned into her embrace, taking long, slow breaths as you did. Silently, you hoped May couldn’t feel the jack-hammer that had started to work in your chest. Also silently, you forced the image of a half-naked Peter, dressing paces behind you, from your mind. Breathing steadily became an easy feat by comparison.
“Peter mentioned you were his project partner,” May said, pulling away to look into your face. “I haven’t seen him so happy! And I haven’t seen you since you went to Europe!”
A blush spread along your cheeks at the mention of Peter happy to be working with you. It eased the lingering worry that worked i your gut. He had missed you too, he had said as much, but it was another thing to hear it from May. She beamed at you, undoubtedly noting the rush of blood that stained your cheeks in a flush.
“Yeah, like you said, it’s been too long.”
May squeezed your shoulder. “You should come over for dinner, like you used to! We still have pizza on Friday nights!”
“I would love that.” An instinctual smile spread along your lips. Parker Pizza Nights was a custom that you had helped shape when you and Peter were just kids. Now, nearly graduated, and one of you a superhero, it persisted. “I would really love that.”
“Great! And I have a feeling that-” May phone chirped loudly, pulling her attention towards the glowing screen that shone through the denim of her jeans. “Oh, jeez, that’s…wow it’s late! You kids were working hard, huh?”
You nodded as May slipped her phone back into her pocket. She glanced over your shoulder at Peter’s closed, bedroom door. One of her dark brows quirked up in question and you felt your chest tighten at the sight.
“Uh, Peter’s gonna walk me home. He’s-”
“Walk?”
You couldn’t meet May’s dark eyes. Lying to her was impossible. How had Peter managed to do it: hide Spider-Man from her? The eggshells he must walk on, or swing over.
“Y-Yeah. Just to the bus stop. It’s so dark.” May’s eyebrow lifted impossibly higher. You curled your fingers into a fist, letting the tips of your nails dig into the flesh of your palm. “So, how have you been, May? Pete said something about a boyfriend?”
May laughed and started to reply in the same instant you felt a sudden draft. You spun on your heels and found that Peter’s door was open. Stood in the entrance to his room was Spider-Man, Peter, masked up and ready to give you a lift home. His window was open, curtains billowing ever-so slightly in the night’s breeze.
Your mouth fell open and you turned your head grew heavy with all the possible excuses you could make to May to cover for Peter’s little show. Though, when you turned around, May was smiling. Her brows were relaxed and she looked…clearheaded.
“Oh, he’s giving you a lift. That makes sense. Walking, ha,” she shook her head. “Be safe, kiddos. Alright? Good to see you, Y/N.”
May gave your shoulder another squeeze before making her way to her own room. You watched her disappear down the hall before you turned back to Peter.
“She knows?!”
“Y-Yeah! I didn’t…I didn’t tell you, did I?” You groaned and stepped back into his bedroom. In relief, you reached a hand out and pushed Peter’s shoulder. He didn’t budge.
“No, you didn’t! I thought I was going to have to explain your,” you let your eyes trail over Peter’s form. The red and dark fabric was so form-fitted. You could see every muscle in his slim frame. The very same muscles you had caught only a tempting glimpse of minutes before. His shoulders appeared broader, stronger than you remembered. Or maybe this was just your first time seeing this side of Peter fully fleshed out.
“Y/N?” He waved a gloved hand in front of your face. You shook your head and felt a rush of heat towards your cheeks. How long had you been staring?
“Sorry, I was, I was worried I was going to have to explain your costume.”
“Oh,” the white eyes of Peter’s suit seemed to shrink, focus in on you. “Yeah, well, she’s known for a while. Sorry about that.”
“It’s alright,” you said, waving a hand at him. Warily, you stepped towards the open window and peered out into the dark that had fallen over Queens. “So, through the window?”
“Yup!”
“Won’t people see you come out of here and blow your cover?” Peter was silent and, for a moment, you thought he didn’t hear you. “Won’t it-”
“There’s no one around,” Peter clarified. He pointed a finger towards where his ears were tucked in his suit. “Spidey senses means spidey hearing.”
You raised a brow at him. “Spiders have good hearing?”
“I…actually, I don’t know,” he stepped past you and jumped to crouch on the window sill. He pushed the glass the rest of the way up and, in that moment, you saw that he had modified the window to be the perfect, and secret, gate-away spot. “You ready?”
A red hand reached out to you at Peter’s question. All at once, the disappointment of hearing Peter’s failure to mention you disappeared. Your heart lifted, swelled in your chest and, in a strange flood of bravery, you took his hand. With ease, he pulled you up on the window sill and to his chest. The close proximity knocked the air from your lungs.
“Alright so, uh, don’t let go.”
A breathy, near-silent laugh rumbled out of your throat. “Really? What do you take for, Parker? An idio-”
Gravity suddenly fell away and your stomach dropped out from under you like your window sill perch. The word died on your lips and morphed into a hit-pitched shriek as the sound of rushing wind filled your ears. Your hands curled into the fabric of Peter’s suit as you clung to him for dear life. To distract yourself from the coldness of air he was swinging you through, you focused on the warmth of Peter’s body.
“Just hold onto me!”
Every biting, mocking retort you had saved in your social memory bank lacked the nerve to be said. Vertigo and the awful thought of falling consumed you. Only Peter, despite being far from it spatially, was able to ground you. His right arm was wrapped around your waist like a flesh safety belt, anchoring you to him in such a way that, if you weren’t a few hundred feet above a busy street, would have made your stomach twist with excitement.
“Scream louder if you want to land,” Peter shouted.
Only his voice seemed to cut through the hollering air that whooshed by you. Air. You were basically flying. You screamed louder than when Peter first lept with you in his arms.
“Alright! Hold on! Hold on!”
Your scream shrank with the sound of the wind that roared in your ears. Aside from the warmth of Peter’s body pressed against yours, all you could feel was the rapid pace of your heart and, eventually, your toes hitting something solid. Even when the entire length and width of your sneaker rested against what you imagined was the ground, you kept yourself pressed into Peter. His arm remained around your waist, holding you close.
“You’re alright, I got you,” Peter murmured, his voice loud but soft in your ear. “I got you, I promise.”
Slowly, you lifted your head from Peter’s shoulder and peeled open your eyes. Tops of buildings were visible to you. Black in the darkness, the roofs of apartment glinted only in the changing colors of traffic signals. Red then green then yellow; multi-colored, urban fireflies.
Convenience store signs glowed bright, illuminating the streets that rested far below from where you stood. Neon signs flickered in the windows of a tattoo shop, nearly in-time with the drunken laughter that spilled out of the mouths of passersby on the sidewalk. From this high, the strangers looked small, like children. You glanced around and saw grey heating units, metal boxes fixed on cement around you.
“Where are we?” Your voice felt small as you looked up at Peter. The white eyes of his mask were already focused on you.
“Only a few blocks from your place,” the hand he had resting on your waist shifted, rubbing soothing circles into your side. “We can walk the rest of the way, if you want?”
“No,” you replied too quickly. You squeezed the material of Peter’s suit that your fingers still curled around. “I like this.”
“Yeah? It’s hard to tell with all the screaming,” Peter quipped. You shot him an unamused grimace and he laughed; the sound rumbled in his chest, vibrated against your own. “I like thistoo.”
Despite looking into the unreadable blankness of Peter’s mask, you felt a softness. When he didn’t move to continue swinging you home, you felt your chest tighten. The white material that covered his eyes grew larger then smaller, still trained on you. His hand stopped it’s comfort campaign against your back and instead opted to fall still.
“Are…are we talking about liking the same thing?”
“I don’t know,” you admitted and swallowed hard on the fear that was climbing up your throat. “I just know I’m happy that I don’t have to miss you anymore. That I know more about this guy,” you pinched the fabric of his suit. “Spider-Man.”
“Me too.” Peter’s voice was quiet as he replied. “I like being your partner.”
A small smile slipped onto your lips as you recalled what May had said. “Your project partner?”
“Yeah, your project partner, and well, I…” Peter trailed off, a few sounds of thoughtful filler floated around you as he struggled to find the words. His arms slipped from your waist as he gestured with his hands, explained to you that, after Europe, he was scared to put in harms way again. “I mean, it found me on vacation!”
“It?”
“Danger,” he sighed. “I don’t want to put my partner in danger like that again. I don’t want to put you at risk.”
“Partner?” You cocked your head slightly to the side. “You mean friend?” Peter stopped his pacing along the roof and lifted his still-masked face to your eyes. You didn’t have to ask him to lift his mask to know he was staring at you. His arms fell to his sides and the quiet balanced around you both was enough; though it confused you. “Peter?”
“My friend, yeah,” he started to close the gap that he had made between you, “but also, like…partner partner, if you’d want that? This, this isn’t how I imagined this going in my head.” Peter raised his hands and sandwiched his face between his palms. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of Spider-Man, the hero of Queens, embarrassed. “Great, you’re laughing.”
“Not at you,” you said quickly, reaching your hands out to him. They shook slightly as you held Peter’s shoulders. So did your voice as you asked, “how did you imagine this going?”
“Well, I wanted to tell you in Europe. Paris maybe or in Big Ben, somewhere tall and romantic. But then…I didn’t tell you that and I told you about this.” He poked the spider emblem inlaid in the fabric on his chest. “And then we got back and I…now we’re here and-”
“Peter,” you whispered, a smile spreading along your face. He stopped rambling and the white eyes focused in on you. Wordlessly, you stepped closer to him and reached a hand up towards his face. With a new bravery guiding you, your finger tips found the end of his mask and began to lift. Peter didn’t stop you as you exposed his neck, his chin, and then his lips.
A shuddering breath passed through parted lips and, suddenly, he was just Peter again; your Peter, again. He was the boy you missed, the hero you had known him to be a kid playing with chalk on the sidewalk. Peter was the boy you loved trying to tell you that he loved you too in the most Peter-way how: on some roof in Queen, highlighted by the romantic glow of the streets below. Not quite how he imagined it but it was perfect for you.
So perfect that you weren’t scared when you leaned up towards him. You didn’t tremble as you placed your lips to his or when his hands gripped your waist. He pulled you to him, anchored you, once more, to his body. It was as if he were trying to keep you from floating away. As if he thought the kiss was not enough to keep you in place.
The kiss was certainly enough to convince you to keep sharing your space with him. Even when you pulled away, you did not go far. Only far enough to see the lazy smile on his lips as he said, “wow. That’s…just how I imagined it.”
