Based on this request: “A Peter Parker oneshot where the reader can put people to sleep with her touch, but she’s got something against the Avengers. As per usual, Spider-Man isn’t really that involved himself with the Avengers, but still helps them out, so they’re enemies. Yet she and Peter are friends in their normal lives, not knowing each other’s secrets”
It is dead silent in the school library. Perfect, blissful silence, something that happens about once every century and quite possibly not even that often. For once, everybody is working, totally focused on whatever math homework or group project has befallen them. Around you, the hum of concentration scarcely dares to make a sound. It’s fantastic.
Or, it is fantastic until your phone jolts to life with an alarm. You grab it within the span of about half a second, immediately silencing it, but the damage is done. You swear you get a dozen angry glares, even though your phone was only on vibrate mode. Never mess with the impeccable study schedules of high school students when they’re a few hours from a deadline.
Your best friend arches a brow from where he sits across a very small table nicked by its fair share of overly aggressive pencil strokes.
“You do realize you’ve ruined all of us, right? No one here is going to be able to concentrate for the next day or two.”
You glare at him. Peter Parker may be one of your good friends, but it’s not as if he’s any better. Not even ten minutes ago, he nearly caused a riot by cracking his back so loudly that he attracted the stares of a study group three tables down.
“You’re the one who’s talking. Shut up.”
Peter just grins. “It’s too late to bully me, everyone else is already talking anyway. I hate to break it to you, Y/N, but you’ve destroyed the entire atmosphere.”
Peter isn’t entirely wrong. Already, people are daring to voice their comments again, and you have no doubt that the entire library will break back out into conversation in a matter of minutes.
You roll your eyes. “My apologies for messing with the vibe. Anyways, I have to go.”
Peter frowns. “So soon? I’ll miss you terribly.”
You smirk. “I bet you will, Parker. I hate to separate you from my presence, but I have no choice.”
Peter waves a hand dismissively. “I’ll mourn for hours. Are you still up for our study sesh later tonight? If you abandon me the night before our history final, I will actually lose my mind.”
You grin. “Never, I need that as much as you do. See you tonight.”
Peter waves goodbye as you gather up your things and go. You leave with a smile, and not just because you’ve been able to have another productive study session with your best friend.
No, this particular source of joy has everything to do with the alarm that just went off on your phone. You created that reminder to make sure you were ready to go when the time came. Namely, the time when all of the Avengers would travel out of their facility and thus be unprepared for an attack. You’ve been tracking security cameras and exit patterns as best you can, and you think you’ve been able to successfully map out the one time of day when New York’s resident heroes are least likely to be in Avengers Tower.
To put it simply, you’ve got a break-in planned, and you’ve organized it so it’ll coincide when no one is there. You’ve got a bone to pick with the Avengers. Technically, they only know you as Nightmare, an inhuman with the ability to put someone to sleep with the mere touch of a finger. Every good villain has a secret identity, and yours has been striking terror into the hearts of the Avengers for the past couple of months.
See, it all started about a year ago. Life isn’t wonderful as an inhuman, especially not since the Avengers started racketing up their enlistment process. Basically, if you’re even rumored to have gifts, you’re brought in for all sorts of questioning and tests, and if they find anything on you, you can kiss your normal life goodbye.
That’s what happened to a friend of yours, a girl named Alyna. She was able to bend light, and the two of you were happy practicing your abilities together until she messed up and used her powers in front of a security camera near northern Manhattan. Next thing you knew, she had ‘moved to a different school,’ and you never saw her again. You know the whole thing happened because of the Avengers, she was able to tell you that much before she vanished.
Now, you’re doing everything you can to find her. You’ve been raiding S.H.I.E.L.D. outposts for a while, trying to find anything on her, but the real target is the Avengers complex. You’ve been setting this up for a while, and finally, it’s time to strike. You pull on a change of clothes in a nearby alley, tug a hood up around your face, and start to walk briskly towards Avengers Tower. It’s time to do this before you lose your nerve. You have to find your friend.
You have no idea how well this is going to work, if it’s even going to work at all. Suddenly, it occurs to you that this is a terribly stupid plan. You’re one person, and S.H.I.E.L.D. is a mammoth organization composed of thousands of trained killers. There is no David and Goliath here, more like one David and about twenty or thirty Goliaths all junked up on super soldier serum and thus resistant to stones. The odds are not entirely in your favor, to say the least.
However, you’ve already arrived, and the sight of the crimson ‘A’ over the door fuels you to keep going. You’re not doing this for you, you’re doing this for Alyna. You have to keep going for her. It’s what she would do for you.
So, you duck your head as you enter the doors, and walk briskly towards an information desk located in the center of the room. You can see two double doors at the far side, locked and in need of a key card. They’ll probably lead to the rest of the complex.
A tired looking woman raises her eyebrow suspiciously when you walk in. “Can I help you?”
You notice a key card attached to her ID and smile. “Yes, actually, you can.”
You lean close enough to the woman that you can reach over and tap her wrist ever so gently. The security cameras shouldn’t see anything out of the ordinary, as you don’t seem to attack her, just stand there. The woman slumps back into her seat, and you grab her key card as she falls asleep. You let yourself in through the doors, and then it’s time for the next stage of the plan.
You’ve learned one crucial lesson over the past couple months spent breaking into smaller S.H.I.E.L.D. facilities: if you look like you belong, you won’t get caught. Walk with confidence, and you’re pretty much bulletproof. Even though you’re dressed in a hoodie obscuring most of your face whereas everyone else is dressed in impeccable uniforms, no one casts you a second glance. They just assume you’re coming back from an undercover mission and haven’t yet had the chance to change. The stolen ID card casually pinned to your chest doesn’t hurt either.
You don’t entirely know where you’re going, but after a few good loops of the hallways, you find a room off the main promenade that’s full of computers. It’s only guarded by a couple people so it should be fine, right?
You close and lock the door behind you, which causes the two agents to look up from their computers. One steps forward, a hand reaching for a gun.
“What are you doing here?”
You smile at them, sweeping close enough that you can lay a hand in their pulses, one by one, and knock them out with your gift. “Getting what I want.”
Thankfully, one of the agents was already logged in, so you start searching for files on the open computer. Anything is good, and the further you scroll, the more you realize that you have no idea what you’re doing. Everything is labeled with long strings of identification digits, or hidden behind password protection.
Eventually, you manage to find an entry level subfolder on S.H.I.E.L.D. recruitment policies regarding inhumans. It’s the best you’ve got right now, so it’ll do. You whip out a flash drive to start copying stuff over, and that is when everything goes wrong.
Apparently, S.H.I.E.L.D. knows enough about foiling break-ins to regularly check in on agents guarding their doors. Your receptionist must not have woken up in time to answer a call, or somebody passed by and realized that she was slumped over her desk instead of monitoring new arrivals. Regardless, you’re suddenly running on far less time than before, and people are going to start searching for you. You need to hurry this up.
Already, you can hear the sound of footsteps pounding down the halls. Someone tries the knob on your door, jiggles it a few times, then calls for backup. They’ve found you. Swearing under your breath, you silently beg the computer to hurry up. There’s only one door in this room, which is currently facing opposition from agents trying to get in, so you obviously can’t use that.
There is, however, a window on the far side, which looks to be just wide enough for you to get out. You reach in your backpack and pull out your uniform, the one you use whenever you have to go out on Official Inhuman Activity Time without a disguise like the one you’re wearing now. It features a mask, which is the main reason you want to have it on. A hoodie will only do you so much good when you’re running for your life, and you can’t afford to be found out.
The computer beeps at you as you’re zipping up the last couple inches of your uniform. You shove your clothes into your bag and race over to it. The door splinters to your left and you quickly change directions, tapping the oncoming guards on any exposed parts of skin so you can force them into unconsciousness. It won’t last long, especially since more and more agents are pouring down the hallway towards you, but it can at least buy you some time.
You run back to the computer and grab your flash drive before exiting out of the file locations. Turning your attention to the window, you examine it for latches and levers, anything to let you out. There’s a knob on the side and you twist it, causing the pane of glass to pull out towards you. A fire escape style railing winds treacherously down to the ground, but you doubt you’ll have enough time to jog down the remaining flights of stairs before they find you.
Looking behind you at the rapidly approaching squadrons of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, though, you’re not sure that you have much of a choice. You fling yourself out the window before you can talk yourself out of it, then close the glass panel behind you in an attempt to disguise your exit, not that it will make much difference.
Guards are starting to amass on the ground beneath you, so instead of running down the stairs, you run up, towards the roof. From there, you’re able to start running across the flat tops of the buildings, hoping to make it towards a nearby commercial district before you’re caught.
Someone lands on the roof beside you before you can get very far, though. Judging by the flash of electric blue in his eyes, and the hammer clasped firmly in his hands, you’ve made an enemy of a very powerful Norse god. This is exactly what you’d been hoping to avoid.
Thor frowns at you. “Stop right there, mortal. You have something of ours.”
You nod. “Okay. Can I hand it over now?”
Thor’s eyes narrow. “Really?”
You smile as disarmingly as you can. “Yeah, really. Giving it to you as we speak.”
You walk slowly towards Thor, flash drive held up so he can see it, but just before you drop it into his awaiting palm, you reach for his wrist instead. Putting Thor to sleep is far harder than your garden variety agent, and it takes almost all of your willpower to manage it, but when you blink hard after a sudden bout of intense dizziness, he’s suddenly sprawled on the ground in front of you.
You laugh, elated. You just put a god to sleep. You just put a god to sleep!
There’s a whir of helicopter blades overhead, and you start running again. It’s sometimes hard to remember being chased by a massive government organization when you’ve taken down the crown prince of Asgard. Everyone has their own priorities.
You reach the edge of a building, and come to a hasty stop. The next building isn’t as close as you thought, and the thought of messing up a jump and having your mission come to a hasty end isn’t all that appetizing, but you don’t have much of a choice.
At last, you get a running start, and take off before you can stop yourself. You only manage to careen through the air for about a couple feet, though, before someone collides with you. This someone, as it turns out, would be Spider-Man, at least judging by the red and blue suit and the rope of spiderweb he’s been using to swing into you.
You glare at him, frustrated. “You’re not supposed to be here, you know.”
You’re fairly sure that he’s grinning. “Funny, I could say the same thing about you. You know, the last time we fought, you swore that you never wanted to see me again.”
“I don’t,” you offer, but he doesn’t seem to believe you.
“Then why are you at the Avengers complex? Honestly, I appreciate the attention, but we’ve got to stop meeting like this.”
You roll your eyes, trying and failing to knock him unconscious through the material of his suit. “Yeah, quit it. Give me your skin.”
You swear you can see the eyes on his mask widen. “What the fuckdoes that mean?”
You grin in spite of yourself. “This.”
You scan his uniform, searching for any inch of available skin, but you can’t find it. By pure luck, your eyes catch on a seam between his shoulders and his jawline, as if the suit itself separates out into a mask and torso piece. You seize upon the opportunity, yanking the bottom edge of the mask up just enough to reveal an inch or two of skin.
Spider-Man attempts to twist away from you, but it’s too late, and you’re desperately pressing your hand to the bare space above his collarbone. It takes just a moment for it to work, for his body to sag in your arms.
The two of you are definitely still swinging between skyscrapers, though, so you curl the fingers of your free hand around the webbed rope and hold on for dear life until you can come to a rolling stop on a nearby roof. Your arms ache as if they’ve been pulled out of their sockets, and your entire body is screaming in outrage, but you’re alive, at least.
So is Spider-Man, albeit asleep. You may be fighting the Avengers, and by extension, him, but that doesn’t mean you want to drop him off the side of a building. Contrary to anything you’d ever tell the masked hero, you have found yourself covering up a laugh or two at his sarcastic remarks, and he’s the only Avengers affiliate you think might actually win fights for the people of this city instead of a public victory for S.H.I.E.L.D. and their men.
You drag yourself over to the section of the roof where Spider-Man lies. He’s breathing, which is good. However, his mask has ridden up on his face during the crash landing onto the roof, revealing a sliver of a smile.
You freeze in place, hand extended to pull down the mask. You know that smile, that corner of a mouth just shadowed under the recesses of the mask. You saw it just an hour or so ago. This is—
Oh, no, this is Peter Parker. This is the boy you were studying with earlier today, the one who walks with you to your locker in between classes no matter how far away his next room is, the one who has been your best friend since the dawn of time and who has also been the masked hero trying to take you down for months.
You jerk away from him, crumpling into a tangle of limbs and folded arms and awful, awful realizations. You can’t take this, not now. Not with the heavy din of S.H.I.E.L.D. helicopters still clamoring overhead, trying to find you.
You’re not going to give up on trying to dismantle the Avengers’ stringent recruitment policies when it comes to inhumans, but this has definitely thrown a wrench in your plans. Peter is already starting to come to, so you force yourself to tug the mask back down over his face so he’ll never know.
You’re long gone by the time Peter Parker wakes up, already forced into the shadows by the agents combing the rooftops in search of the villain they’ll never capture. You’re forced to take a long, irregular way home due to search patrols, and by the time you finally make it back to your room, night has long since fallen. You change out of your uniform on the way back, then let yourself into your room.
At last, safe within the confines of your apartment, you let yourself relax. You draw a shuddering breath, squeezing your eyes shut tight. You nearly died about a dozen times, and for what? You have no idea if the information on your flash drive will be useful whatsoever, and you’ve got to grapple with the fact that you’re likely going to have to keep going toe to toe with Peter whenever you try to work on your Saving Alyna crusade. You can’t keep this up.
The door swings open, and you flinch. Standing over the threshold between the hallway and your bedroom is Peter Parker, as if you’ve summoned him there by mere thought alone. You remember fleetingly that you were supposed to have a study session tonight, which you’ve probably missed. Shoot.
Peter’s mouth opens, closes, then opens again. “Sorry for startling you, I let myself in. You’re only a couple minutes late,” he answers in response to your silent question, “so don’t worry about it.”
He takes a hesitant step into the room, then frowns, eyes casting searchlight beams over your skin. “Y/N, you’re covered in bruises. Is everything alright?”
You glance down at yourself and grimace. You took several hard hits trying to escape the Avengers complex, and it’s showing now. At least you’re out of your Nightmare uniform, but you look like you got into a fight with a brick wall and lost.
You rub a tired hand over your eyes. “I, uh, tripped going down a flight of stairs. Like, a really long flight of stairs. It’s been a rough afternoon.”
Peter nods slowly, although you can’t tell if he entirely buys your lie or not. “Yeah, I can see that. I’m assuming you were held up because of all the traffic in the area, it took me forever to get here, too. Someone tried to break into the Avengers facility and now it feels like the city is being monitored by police.”
A sudden light dawns behind his eyes. “Wait a minute. You left a couple minutes early from school, as set out by a specific alert on your phone. You came back late. You’re covered in bruises.”
You really, really don’t like where this is going. “Your point is?”
Peter clasps his hands together in front of him as if he’s about to deliver a killer presentation. “You’re an Avenger. I mean, it’s hard to tell which one, because I thought I knew who a lot of them were, but we seem to be getting more by the day. Really, though. Are you an Avenger?”
You laugh before you can stop yourself, the sound like that of a lunatic. “An Avenger? No, Peter. God, no.”
In fact, you couldn’t be further from being an Avenger. You’re literally doing your best to make sure there are as few Avengers as possible. Oh, if only he knew the irony of that very question.
“Well, put it that way, and it makes it seem absurd. I’ll still be holding out hope, though.” He says.
Peter has started to turn a faint red, but all you can think about is that this was a very, very near miss. You need to be more careful, especially now that you know Peter is Spider-Man. If you were smart, you would start cutting ties with him, and make sure that Peter has as few chances as possible to figure you out.
However, you need your best friend more than anything. So, you just laugh along with him, then start to pull out your notebooks for the study session. You consider him, sitting across from you, head bowed over the latest calculus homework, and make one decisive choice. You’re not giving him up. Not now, not ever. It might destroy you, but leaving Peter behind would kill you far faster than any secret identity reveal. You just hope that he’ll extend you that same courtesy if he ever finds you out.
Peter went back to the tower and received the needed medical attention. His aunt would show up and be so relieved that he was in one piece. She would hold him as he cried and tell him that everything would be okay while silently cursing the world for being so cruel to the young boy who deserved a break. After a while, she would have to leave with Happy to start sorting everything out. Other Avengers would come in and offer Peter their condolences, promising that they would be there for him if he needed anything. Tony practically moved into Peter’s room, not wanting to leave him alone. The worst part came when Y/n’s mother showed up. He expected her to scream at him for killing her daughter. But instead, she just told him how relieved she was that he was okay. She cried, he cried, she explained to him that the funeral would be held a week later and asked that he speak if he was up for it. She reminded him of how much you loved him and told him that he could come by any time.
Two days later he went back to his Aunt’s apartment. Everywhere he looked he saw you, memories flashing. He remembered the countless movie marathons (and maybe make-out sessions) on the couch. He remembered disasters in the kitchen and the flour fight you had when he discovered you trying to bake his birthday cake last year. He remembered chasing you through the halls, both of you laughing, him kissing you when he caught you in his arms. He slowly made it up to his room trying to keep it together. But, that was honestly pointless. As he opened the door, he saw the multiple shirts he had tried on before your date sprawled across his bed. He pushed them on to the ground and laid down just wanting everything to stop for a minute. But his mind refused him such pleasantries.
Instead, he thought about the nights you had spent studying together. The time that you had discovered he was Spider-Man. He replayed multiple conversations the two of you had had. He remembered the day he asked you out, your first date, the times he went to your house after a particularly bad night whether it was to be patched up or just to talk. His mind continued on like that until he eventually drifted off to sleep.
The next morning Aunt May came in and brought Peter breakfast which he hardly touched. She sighed as she was at a loss for what to do. He stayed in his room all day, only getting up to use the restroom. He just wanted to be left alone and she tried to respect that, no matter how hard it was to watch him push her away again.
After two more days of refusing visitors and ignoring the outside world, Peter’s aunt informed him that your mother had called and asked him to stop by. He honestly didn’t want to, but he figured he owed her that much. So he forced himself to shower and get dressed. He then proceeded to walk the too familiar path to your apartment, which again was accompanied by various memories that caused his chest to hurt. He didn’t know how he was supposed to do this. He eventually made it outside your door, thinking about the first time he kissed you, right there in that hallway. He hesitated, and finally knocked softly.
Your mom answered and Peter could see how upset she was, not that anyone could blame her. She invited him to come inside and take a seat on the couch. He still didn’t know exactly why he was here.
“I went today to get her stuff- from the car. This- I think it belongs to you,” she said handing him the small ring box with the promise ring he planned on giving you that night. As he took it, his eyes closed as he tried not to cry again, not in front of your mom. She too was on the verge of tears as he pulled something else out of the bag. “Th-this was in the trunk, it was her anniversary gift for you, she’d been working on it for weeks,” she said taking a deep breath and handing it to him. It was very neatly packaged in blue wrapping paper with a red ribbon. He turned it over in his hands.
Noticing his hesitation, your mother reassured him that he didn’t have to open it now. He just stared at it.
“Can I get you anything, Peter? Maybe something to drink? Or to eat? People keep dropping off casseroles,”
“I’m good, thanks,” he replied clearing his thoughts.
“You can go up to her room if you want, I like to go in there. It makes me feel closer to her,” she added.
“Yeah, I think I might do that.”
He absentmindedly walked up to your room. It looked exactly the same as it had when he had last seen it. He looked over your photo wall, glancing through the pictures mostly of the two of you. You were smiling and/or laughing in 99% of them. Seeing them brought a smile to his face. He walked around the rest of your room thinking about the time the two of you had spent together there. He took in your familiar scent and felt if only for a moment at peace.
After a while, he made his way back downstairs. He thanked your mom and told her to reach out if she needed anything. She asked him if he planned on saying anything at your funeral on Saturday and he told her that he would. Though to be honest he had forgotten that that was even a thing. Not the funeral, just the speaking part. He would have to start thinking about it.
When he returned to his apartment, he wasn’t entirely surprised to find one of Tony’s cars was parked around the corner.
“Hey kiddo, how are you doing?” Tony asked as Peter entered.
“As well as can be expected,” he replied setting down the boxes from your house before sitting across from Tony.
“I wanted to check-in, and bring you this,” he said handing him a small shoebox,”
Peter was confused, to say the least. “Mr. Stark you didn’t have to get me anything,”
“I didn’t, it’s from Y/n. She gave it to me a few months ago, made me promise to hold on to it just in case something ever happened,” he explained waiting to see how Peter was going to react.
“She’s unbelievable,” Peter chuckled, the stopped was he thought.
“Have you eaten anything today?” Tony asked most likely at Aunt May’s request.
“Not really, but I’m fine,”
“Are you sure, I can have Happy can go pick something up and bring it by, he’s been worried about you,”
“I’m good, thanks though”
“Peter I’m sorry, I can’t imagine how hard all of this is for you, especially right now. You know that I and everyone else are here for you. If there is anything that any of us can do, all you have to do is say the word and we’re here.”
“I know Mr. Stark, thank you,”
“Okay kid, I’m going to give you some space so you can open that -when you’re ready. Make sure you eat something, if not for you, do it for your aunt who’s worried about you. Let me know if you need anything. Otherwise, I’ll see you Saturday.”
“See you Saturday,” Peter mumbled before taking the three boxes upstairs to his room.
He sat and stared at the anniversary gift and the apparent contingency plan. He debated which one to open first or whether he wanted to open either of them. Okay, that was stupid, obviously, he was going to open them. It was just a matter of when and in which order. After some thought, he made up his mind and picked up the blue box unwrapping it carefully. Inside, was a scrapbook. It had pictures from kindergarten to the present, but that wasn’t all that it had. It also contained some of your artwork and small memorabilia. For example, there were tickets from various movies, the receipt from your first date, the ribbon from the science fair the two of you won, and other things that Peter had absolutely no idea that you kept. His favorite part though was your handwritten additions. Small notes, song lyrics, quotes, and memories that you used to embellish the pages. You had narrated the entire story and it was beautiful. He spent hours going through it carefully, not wanting to miss anything.
When he finished, he put it back in the box and set it aside. He debated whether he wanted to also open the shoebox tonight as he had just been on an emotional roller-coaster. He hesitantly pulled it closer to him and pulled off the lid. There was a note on top which he read first.
Dear Peter,
I hope that this note never has to be read. However, it needs to exist. So, here we go I guess. In this box, you will find two things, first a Funko Pop! and secondly a flash drive with a video that I recorded for you.
The Funko Pop! is Kylo Ren. And you may be asking yourself why out of every character in existence, I would choose him. So here’s my reasoning: 1. You love Star Wars 2. I’m guessing that the world seems a little darker than normal right now, so I figured that he could serve as a reminder that no matter how far into the “dark side” you go that there is always redemption and light.
I love you Peter Benjamin Parker.
Forever and Always,
Y/f/n Y/l/n
Peter took out the Funko Pop! And set it on his desk as he retrieved his laptop and queued up the video. He tried to mentally prepare himself for it, but it was no use.
Hi Peter,
So if you are seeing this something happened to me. I don’t know whether it was Spider-Man related or not. I guess it really doesn’t matter. I just wanted to tell you not to blame yourself. And believe me, I know you well enough to know that you will try to. Even if I live to be 102 and die peacefully in my sleep of natural causes you’d still be looking for a way to blame yourself. That’s kinda your thing, putting the weight of the world on your shoulders. Anyways, no matter what happened, it wasn’t your fault. I knew exactly what I was getting into when I agreed to be your friend, partner in crime, and your girlfriend.
You are so good Peter. You are truly a breath of fresh air. While others actively ignore the pain and suffering in the world, you go out of your way to make a difference. You protect those who can’t protect themselves and you never expect anything in return. Your life has presented you with so many challenges and so many reasons to turn cold, but instead, they made you kind.
Please keep fighting. Don’t lose hope, find something that inspires you, and use it to make you better. Make the most of every minute because life is unpredictable, beautiful, and ephemeral. That’s kinda the whole point isn’t it?
I could keep talking to you for hours, but at the same time, I feel like there isn’t much more to be said.
I love you Peter, and I know that you will get through this. I believe in you and know that you will do great things in life. There is nothing that you can’t do if you put your mind to it. Keep fighting the good fight. Or should I say keep swinging the good swing. Maybe I should go for, ‘May the Force be with you’? Hopefully that made you laugh or at least smile. God, your smile can save lives. So I feel that it is my personal duty right here and now to remind you to smile everyday. More importantly be the reason someone else smiles.
The world can be dark and scary and cruel. But there is so much beauty and goodness. You just have to seek it out. I wish you the absolute best this world has to offer. I love you, always and forever.
Oh by the way, just in case there is any doubt, I am totally okay with you move on. In fact I want you to. Find a girl that makes you happy, who makes you more, and then allow yourself to enjoy it. Absolutely under no circumstance do I want you to use me as an excuse to stop living.
Stay Gold Spider-Man.
And with that, the camera clicked off and the video ended. Peter replayed it again, taking in your voice and smile. This whole thing felt so surreal, like a bad dream that he had simply yet to wake from. That video though, it was something he hadn’t realized that he needed until he had seen it. It was like the fog was beginning to clear and he knew that everything would be okay.
When he woke up, he ate half of his lunch, which satisfied Aunt May. He then sat at his desk to do the impossible task before him. He had to figure out what it was that he wanted to say at your funeral the next day. He must have written and deleted at least 10 speeches. Nothing was good enough. It needed to be perfect. He would sit there in front of that computer for hours. When he finished, he was entirely shocked to see that it was after 2 am.
May woke him up so that he had plenty of time to get ready for the service. The drive there was silent and Peter was thinking over his speech. When he arrived, Tony came to greet him. He wasn’t surprised to see many of the avengers in attendance. You were always with him at the tower and had become close to several of them. The service was short and sweet, your mom spoke, and then she asked for him to come up and say a few words.
It was in the moment that he reached the podium that he decided to entirely disregard his speech. And instead, speak from his heart.
“From the time I was a little kid, I always wanted to be one of the avengers. I wanted to have superpowers and make the world a better place. Y/n taught me that you don’t have to have powers to change the world. You just have to make a choice to be kind and do the right thing. She was one of the bravest and most beautiful people I have ever met. She always saw the best in people and went out of her way to make a difference in the lives of others. She radiated kindness, and inspired those who knew her. She always was there for me and never gave up on me. She taught me how to find the good in everything. She was the love of my life, my best friend, and my hero. She taught me how to become something more than I ever thought I could be. She saved my life in more ways than one and I will carry her with me every day of my life.” he finished quickly returning to his seat.
After that, you were buried and everyone went their separate ways. The following Monday, Peter finally went back to school. It wasn’t easy, but he had to start somewhere. It would take him three more days before he was able to put the Spider-Man suit back on. From there, he took it day by day. Some were harder than others, but he persisted. He walked at graduation and then swung by your grave to talk to you about his future plans. He was sure that you were proud of him. He spent most of his summer in the Avengers tower with Tony. In the fall, he’d be attending college. And from there who knew what would happen. But whatever life threw at him, he would remember to seek out the good and to do kindness recklessly as you had taught him.
A/N: This is sad, but that’s okay. There is character death and also a car accident. There will be a part two, named AFTER, coming out very shortly.
“When you can do the things that I can and you don’t and then the bad things happen, they happen because of you”
That quote was Peter’s answer when Tony had asked him why he was Spider-Man. He knew that he could use his power to do a multitude of things, but he had decided to use it to help people, to protect his community, to be a hero.
But what was the point now? What was the point of any of this if he couldn’t save you?
Every time he closed his eyes he was back in that car. The two of you were on your way to celebrate your two year anniversary. You were talking about your plans for college and your graduation that was right around the corner. Peter had been planning everything out about this night for weeks. He was nervous that he had gone slightly overboard, but Mr. Stark and Pepper assured him that it was going to be perfect.
He looked over at you as you were singing along to one of your favorite songs on the radio. His chest filled with adoration and eased any nerves that he had. He was about to continue the conversation when his spidey senses went off. He quickly looked for the source of danger but was cut off as a car collided with your own on the driver’s side.
The next thing he remembered was the smell. He couldn’t tell what it was exactly, maybe the car’s fuel, maybe the airbags. Then the pain. He reached up to feel the side of his head which was covered in blood. He seemed to be pinned to the seat. He was extremely disoriented and found it hard to focus. That was at least until the panic set in. He remembered where he was and who he was with. He looked over and realized that you weren’t in the car.
He struggled through the previously unrealized pain in his shoulder to reach his phone. He called the one person who could help him, the person who had always been there to help him.
“Hello Pete, how’s the big date going? Give her the ring yet?”
“T-Tony-”
“Peter what’s wrong? Where are you?” he cut him off already summoning one of his suits.
“We were- there was a car- and I-” Peter tried but he was freaking out.
“Friday track Peter’s location and notify 911” Tony said to his AI.
“Peter, it’s okay I’m on my way, are you hurt?”
“I’ll b-be fine. No-nothing worse than I’ve dealt w-with before,” he answered.
“And how’s Y/n?”
“I-I don’t know. She’s n-not in the car and I can’t g-get out,” he replied as his breathing started to get faster.
“It’s okay Pete, just try to calm down. I’m almost there and help is on the way,” Tony reassured.
“Thanks, Mr. Stark,” Peter breathed,
True to his word, Tony touched down moments later. Seeing the state off the two cars he was surprised that anyone was going to be walking away from the accident. He quickly went to where Peter was and started to get him out of the car.
“No, go find Y/n first. I’ll be fine. Just go help her.” he pleaded.
Tony moved around to where you were laying on the ground. He immediately knelt down and had Friday scan your vitals. You were seemingly unconscious with a large piece of glass sticking out of your chest and blood from where your head met the cement. Friday’s scan showed that you had multiple broken bones and were in critical condition with almost no chance of survival. Tony knew that he couldn’t risk moving you, especially since he had no way to stabilize you. He also knew that while help was coming, that it wouldn’t get there in time. Silent tears fell from his eyes as he returned to Peter.
“How is she? She’s okay right?” Peter asked hopefully.
“Kid- she,” Tony started.
Peter didn’t even need to see his face to know. That tone is the same tone every adult used when they told him devastating news. It was the tone from when his parents died. The tone from when his uncle was murdered.
“No, she has to be okay, she-” he started crying.
“Pete, she’s not-, I need to get you out of here so you can say goodbye,” Tony tried, his own emotion taking over.
He used the strength of his suit to pull the door off of the mutilated car. He then carefully readjusted Peter’s seat to free him. He had Friday do a scan to see the severity of his injuries. Besides the shoulder and concussion, he had bruised ribs and was experiencing multiple symptoms of shock. Tony helped him out and supported most of his weight as he led him to you.
Peter immediately sunk down and was debating the best way to hold you. He wanted more than anything to pull you into his arms, but he was so afraid of making things worse. Tears were gliding down his cheeks as took your hand in his and called your name. Despite how much he wanted you to be okay, somewhere deep down he knew Tony was right. This was it. He was drawn out of his thoughts as he heard your quiet voice.
“P-Peter?”
“Hey, I’m right here,” he said as he leaned over you so you could see his face.
“What happened?” you asked struggling through your thoughts.
“We were in a car accident, but it’s okay help is on the way,”
“Peter, you’re bleeding,” you say taking in his appearance. You made the mistake of trying to sit up and grimaced in pain.
“Easy Y/n, just try to lie still,” he all but whispered.
“I’m so sorry,” you said as tears escaped your eyes.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,”
“I ruined our date,” you tried
“What? This? This is still not the worst date I’ve been on,” he tried to joke.
You smiled. God he loved that smile. He wanted to spend the rest of his life making you smile. This was so unfair. Why? Why did this have to happen to you? Why now?
“Peter, what’s wrong?”
But even as the words left your mouth, you knew. You knew that you weren’t going to be okay. That this was how it would end. And, you realized that Peter most know this too. You didn’t want to go, you didn’t want to leave him. It was supposed to be the two of you against the world. You were supposed to graduate together, and go to college, and get married, and have kids, and make the world a better place. There was so much that you were supposed to do. But none of that mattered now did it? You braced yourself and decided to make the most of the few minutes you may have left.
“I love you so much, Peter Parker,” you started.
“Y/n, please don’t,” he cried.
“Pete, you are the bravest, kindest, person I know. You’ll be okay. It’ll take time but-”
“Stop it!”
“It’s okay Peter,”
“No, it’s not, I can’t lose you too,” he cried.
You were at a loss for words. The excruciating pain you once felt was numbing. You knew that you were running out of time.
“Peter, tell me you love me,”
“I do, I-I love you so-so much,” he sobbed.
“Promise- Promise me- you’ll move on. That you’ll be happy,”
“Y/n I-”
“Promise, that you won’t shut down. You have so many people who love you. Let them help you,” you struggled as it became harder and harder to breath, unconsciousness - no, death- was creeping in.
“I promise,” he replied.
“Good,” you whispered eyes closing and chest falling for the last time.
“Y/n? Y/n wake up. Come on I don’t want to do this with out you. Just-just stay with me. Help is coming. I-I love you. I love you so much.” Peter cried pulling your lifeless body off of the ground and craddling you in his arms.
Tony, who had returned from helping the people in the other car, minimized his suit and went over to Peter. He honestly didn’t know what to do, his heart broke for the kid. He gently went to his side putting his hand on Peter’s shoulder.
“She’s gone,” he whispered.
“I know Pete,” he said sadly.
“We should really get you back to the tower, to the med-bay, I can have Happy go pick up your aunt.”
“I don’t want to leave her.”
“The paramedics are here, they’re going to take her.”
Peter looked up for the first time since it had happened. The road was now blocked off. The police and ambulances were here. People were trying to see what had happened. He knew Tony was right. It was time for him to leave. So he hugged you one last time placed a kiss on your head and laid you down on the ground, pausing to close your eyes. He took once last glance before allowing Tony to guide him away.
Summary: Dr Strange made everyone forget about Peter Parker. But somehow the spell didn’t work on you.
From one moment to another, everyone just forgot.
Out of nowhere Peter’s whole existence became non-existent. When you asked Ned, all he said was “Who’s Peter Parker?”
No one bugged, bullied or tormented you anymore is school. The fact that Peter was missing wasn’t a good sign either.
You had a feeling he was in trouble. For the last couple of days, he didn’t text or call you, even if you knew what happened to May, you knew better than to press him.
You had work that day, in the book store. You heard the familiar bells as someone entered.
It was Peter.
“Hi. My name is Peter Parker.” he said smiling.
“What did you do?” you asked and he looked at you like you had two heads.
“You didn’t forget?” asked Peter as he rushed over to you. And you hugged him.
“No. But the whole word did. What happened Peter? Why does no one know who Peter Parker is?”
Peter explained everything to you. And although you understood his reasoning, you were a bit angry at him for messing with everyone’s minds.
Then one thing hit you.
“B-But then why didn’t I forget?”
But you were more focused on Peter.
You knew that it took a toll on him when his identity got out. You knew he was in a constant battle of bullies, college, the media and even the police.
But to get a sorcerer to make others forget… was another level. And the multiverse? What did that mean?
But was most important now, is that you had your Peter back.
“How can you still remember, Y/N?” asked Peter, the question was more towards the doctor than towards you.
“Must be love.” You came up with the conclusion, half joking as you laughed a little.
Both Peter looked at you, eyes wide.
Even though the two of you were dating since London, you never said the ‘L’ word to one another.
You just looked at him.
“What?”
“Y-You said…”
“I know what I said dork. I love you. And next time, maybe you should have called me, I was devastated when I heard what happened with May, but I couldn’t find you anywhere.”
“I’m sorry Y/N. I should have called you but with everything going on and May and then Dr Strange and then the spell and I had to move.” he was mumbling as he looked down, but you cupped his face and kissed him.
“You should be. Make it up to me after work maybe? If you don’t have superhero stuff to do.”
“Sure! YES! Okay, I have an apartment, come over!” he got all excited as he started to plan everything in his mind. Flowers, dinner, a movie and chocolate.
“Y/N! GET BACK TO WORK.” you both heard your boss yell.
“I’ll meet you later, Tiger.” you kissed him on the lips one last time.
Peter was about to leave before he turned back, looking at you behind the cashier.
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.”
This was honestly inspired by this very scene in the trailer and since the trailer just dropped, I could not resist writing about it. sorry for the many mistakes, i haven’t managed to fix them all! Also, title has nothing to do with the imagine. I was coincidentally listening to the song when i was writing this! hope you enjoy.
“That was great!”
You sneak up to Peter the moment May lets him out of her embrace and cover his eyes with your fingers. “Guess who?” You whisper quietly. Although, you reckon Peter already knew you were behind him because he chuckles and raises both of his hands to pull your fingers away from his face.
Peter turns around to look at you and he greets you with one of the brightest smiles you have ever seen on his face. “Hi, Y/N.” He says almost breathlessly, and you look up at him, giving him a smile in return. He leans down to press his lips shyly against yours and you giggle quietly, standing on the tip of your toes to deepen the kiss the slightest bit. Peter takes that chance to wrap one of his arms around your waist to pull you closer.
Despite going out with you for half a year already, Peter still tends to get rather shy when it comes to showing affection in public – especially when he can still feel Aunt May’s gaze on his back. He pulls back and can’t help the smile on his face from widening.
“So proud of you, Peter.” You pull one of your hands away from Peter’s hold to wrap an arm around his torso, leaning against him. He chuckles, nodding his head shyly. “You were amazing too, Aunt May!”
May smiles endearingly at the both of you; this is one of the few times where she has actually seen her nephew looking very happy and she’s glad you are one of the reasons as to why he looks less miserable. When May had found out about her darling Peter’s involvement as the neighborhood friendly Spiderman, she had almost fainted, worried herself over Peter’s wellbeing, ranted about how Mr. Stark had the audacity to lie right to her face and felt upset about how you seemed to know about Peter’s secret before she did and it wasn’t necessarily in that order.
It took a lot of groveling from Peter, Happy (who May learned from Peter worked for Mr. Stark) and you. Although, granted, Happy really didn’t do much groveling – he was there to supervise and step in whenever Peter had no idea how to answer any of her questions. But once she finally calmed down and listened to all of his explanations, May all but demanded to be in on the (unofficial) team as well.
The endearing scene before her lost its serenity when the door opens and Happy struggles to walk through the door with the check he is currently holding. Peter and you turn to look at the door and a smile appear on your face.
“Hey, sorry, I’m late.” Happy closes the door behind him with much difficulty and walks up to where the three of you are standing around and he pauses, looking over at May appreciatively. “You look nice.”
The moment Happy said that, you had to swallow the gasp that almost threatened to leave your mouth and just about pushed yourself even closer to Peter. He is staring at Happy and May in confusion.
May smiles, (almost shyly, you noted), and gives him the once over. “Thank you.” The smile on her face grows bigger. “You too.”
Happy moves the check over to his other hand as he still continues to stare at May. His eyes zone in on her dress and he nods his head once more. “New dress?” He definitely has never seen that on her before – Happy thinks May look absolutely beautiful in it.
This time, you had to bury your face on Peter’s chest and wonder briefly if this was how May felt whenever Peter and you tried to flirt with each other and fail miserably. Judging by how Peter is still looking at the two of them in confusion, you almost want to giggle at how clueless your boyfriend is.
Flatter over how Happy seemed to know that she had gotten a new dress, May giggles. “Yes, it is.” She looks away shyly from him, but it doesn’t last long because a few seconds after May looks away, she turns to look back at him. “How’d you know?”
This is when you decide to slowly pull Peter away from the two of them, which hadn’t been a hard thing to do because of how engrossed Happy and May seem to be with each other, and your cheeks are starting to warm now. You have always seen May as a parental figure and to see Happy and her looking at each other like that made you just a tad bit shy.
Once the two of you are a bit further away from Aunt May and Happy, Peter pulls himself away from you and stare at you in confusion. “What just happened?” He asks incredulously. Whatever he had seen just now, Peter cannot for the life of him wrap his head around it and you chuckle, throwing your arms around your boyfriend’s torso. Peter wraps his own arms around you too but he still left some space in between the two of you just so he can stare at you in absolute (adorable) confusion. “Please tell me whatever happened didn’t actually happen?” He pleads and you stand the tip of your toes to pull his head down to kiss him.
Pulling away, you made sure to hold his face in place with your hands and you stare at him. “If Happy is the one for Aunt May, Peter, I will be really happy for her. She deserves someone like him, don’t you think?”
Peter makes a choking sound before he coughs. “Y/N!” He whines. “That’s Aunt May we’re talking about.” He shivers and shakes his head. “Happy and Aunt May? How did this happen – has this been happening for a while?”
You soothingly pat your boyfriend on the back and simply smile at his antics. “I think so. I mean, I had a hunch but I think that just confirmed my suspicions. But enough talk about them, let’s talk about you, Peter. I am so proud of you tonight,” You tell him earnestly and Peter relaxes a bit, giving you a look.
“I’m glad you were here to witness it too. I had all of my favourite loved ones in the room and I felt happy.” Peter leans down so that his forehead is touching yours. “Thank you for coming tonight, Y/N.” He murmurs as his eyes slid down to your mouth. “I love you.”
pairing: Peter Parker (Andrew Garfield) x reader (Marvel) part 2
word count: 4.4k
warnings: MAJORRRR NO WAY HOME SPOILERS !!!!!
request/s: part 2 hehe
summary: Peter Parker had lost you in a different reality, but when he is brought to a reality with another Spiderman, he also finds you, but you don’t remember him.
a/n: special thanks at the end of this post and literally felt soo sad in the ending like maannnn, im so scared this post wont live up to everyones expectations ajbshsha
Warning:Fluff, Peter being cute as all hell and a supportive bf
Summary: Y/n is stressed about school, so Peter suggests they ditch class.
Author:Dizzy
A/N:As some of you know, I have been pretty ill and am using a nice little google form to get some more personalized fics to people and e-letters as well. This is one of those fics that I was able to change into an x Reader.
“Y/n,” Peter whispered, leaning over the side of his desk in the library, “Y/n, Y/n.”
The girl did not look up from her notebook and textbook that was splayed across the desk she sat at, not far from Peter.
“Y/n,” Peter hissed, still not getting her attention. “Ugh, Y/n.”
He pulled the eraser off of his pencil and tossed it at her, the blow landing right on her cheekbone, sending the girl to fly back in her seat.
“What the-” She reached a hand to her face, touching the spot where the eraser hit her to see if it had left a mark before her eyes landed on Peter. “Peter.”
“Don’t be mad.” He spoke quickly and softly, sitting up just as fast as she had moments ago. “I have been saying your name for the past five minutes.”
“Yeah, I heard you.”
“So you were ignoring me?” Peter gave her a hurt look.
“Peter, I have to study. That’s why we’re in the library during lunch. I’m falling behind in chemistry.”
“You are not falling behind.” He argued, rising from his seat and slinging his bag over his shoulder.
“No, Peter, I am. I am so lost in class I can barely pay attention- What are you doing?” She cut herself off as she watched Peter pack all her belongings into her backpack and slung it over his other shoulder.
“Get up.” He instructed. “We’re ditching our next class.”
“But, Peter,” Y/n rose to her feet, very clearly unsure, “we have chemistry next class.”
“Yeah, but you were the one who just said you’re so lost you don’t even pay attention-”
“I can barely pay attention.”
“Whatever.”
“There is a difference!”
“Again, whatever, Bug.” Peter rolled his eyes before continuing and starting to walk away from the girl who seemed stuck in her place. “As I was saying, since you can barely pay attention we should go out and do something else. Take a break for once.”
“Peter Parker, who is such a stickler about school, is going to skip our last few classes for little ole me?”
“I’m only doing this because I love you.” Peter argued.
“So this isn’t because you heard from Ned that there’s a showing of the original Star Wars in about an hour?”
Peter cracked a shy smile as he adjusted the two backpacks on his shoulders. “No, it does not. This is about you and your inability to relax and take a break. If we just so happen to make it to the movie theater, I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”
“Oh my god, you are so ridiculous!” Y/n exclaimed, giving him a little bit of a shove.
“Don’t push me too hard, Bug. I will drop both these bags.” Peter gave caution as he adjusted the bags once more. “What do you keep in this bag anyway? A pound of rocks? Don’t tell me you carry those crystals Liz gave you around.”
“You’re probably only carrying them both just so I’ll say yes to your little movie.” Y/n stated as she pulled her bag off of his shoulder and slipped her arms into the straps. “And for the record, no, I do not carry the healing crystals Liz gave me. I carry the anti stress and worry ones.”
“I knew it!” Peter exclaimed, walking quickly to catch up with the girl who was already walking away from him again. “And about the movie, we don’t have to go. Let’s do whatever you want today. Does that sound like a plan to you?”
“All I want is to lay down and never get up again.”
“How about we get some ice cream? Do something a little less depressing?” He asked, throwing an arm around her shoulders.
“I think eating my feelings in ice cream is also depressing.”
“I thought it was only depressing if you do it after a really bad breakup. That’s what Aunt May told me.”
“Did Aunt May tell you that or did you end up watching Eat, Pray, Love with her like she asked you to?”
“I’ll have you know that Eat, Pray, Love wasn’t even that bad. I actually kind of liked it. Made me want to go to Italy again.”
“You actually liked the movie?” Y/n giggled.
“I can be sensitive sometimes. I mean, I cried the first time I saw Marley and Me.”
“I think everyone cried when they saw that movie.” Y/n smiled as they made their way out of the school building and onto the sidewalk. “But those are definitely not the same movies.”
“Fine. You’re right, but don’t you dare tell anyone I liked that movie.” Peter begged. “Not even Ned. And especially not Liz. She’ll end up thinking it sounds adorable and will tell everyone else.”
“That’s because it is adorable.” Y/n smiled. “It’s adorable that you like movies my mom likes.”
“You’re not funny.”
“I’m pretty funny.” She smiled up at him, both of the teens stopping in their tracks to not stand face to face. “You think I’m funny, but you don’t want to admit it.”
“No, you don’t want to admit that I’m funny.” Peter argued, his hand slipping into hers. “Regardless, it’s nice to see you finally smiling.”
“Yeah?”
He hummed in agreement as he closed the space between them, leaned down to kiss her softly. He always loved the feeling of her smiling when he kissed her, as if her happy demeanor made her lips taste even more sweet.
Peter smiled as he pulled away, brushing her hair down with an open hand.
“If you do that again, I definitely want to go see that movie.”
“A kiss? That’s all it took?” He chuckled as he leaned in close again, resting his forehead on hers. “And they say boys are total simps.”
“You’re not as funny as you think you are.”
“Oh, Bug, we both aren’t that funny.” Peter laughed, kissing her softly again.
He pulled away slowly, as if he didn’t really want to. He could tell she hadn’t wanted him to pull away either as a small whine escaped her lips, causing a smile to stretch across his own.
“Maybe if I kiss you at the movies, you’ll finally learn to relax.”
“Why wait for the movies when you could have me relax right here and now?”
Peter smiled, this time placing both his hands on her face before he pulled her into a kiss again.
