Who Are You, Really? || Chapter 2

Pairing: (any) Peter Parker x Reader

WARNINGS: Blood, violence

Words: 2,069

Masterlist

CHEMICAL REACTIONS

There’s a silent squeaking of shoes against the polished floor which is already difficult to avoid on a normal day let alone one where New York’s been plagued with heavy rain. While it’s annoying to the ears, the group votes to ignore the sound in favor of making quick work of their robbery.

Four men wheel off barrels filled with chemicals down to their truck which is parked on the lowest level. At least four of their buddies’ act as lookouts, although, the group has already tied up three security guards who have since been forced to sit in the corner of the parking garage, their mouths gagged with duct tape.

The leader of the group is a tall gruff man with a belt of bottles attached to his hip. He must be feeling pretty confident with their work because he’s been sitting at one of the lab tables for about eleven minutes now, playfully mixing different chemicals and metals while his colleagues do all the heavy lifting. It almost makes Spiderman smirk under his mask, watching the show from his perch in the corner of the ceiling.

“I wouldn’t mix those two chemicals if I were you,” the men jump when Spiderman finally speaks after noticing the leader pick up two bottles, one with a clear liquid inside and other with chuckles of silver metal,“ that’s dilute sulfuric acid and sodium metal. One’s a reducing agent oxidized to sodium ion while the other’s an oxidizing agent that reduces hydrogen ions to hydrogen gas. Mix them together and the sodium will melt to the surface with an explosion to follow which, honestly, isn’t going to feel too good if you’re within range-ACK!”

He doesn’t get to finish his knowledgeable chemistry explanation before being forced to jump off the ceiling when the four men draw their guns, firing rapidly at the hero who effortlessly dodges their attempts.

“Not fans of chemistry I take it? Then what’s with all the chemicals you’re stealing? Helping your kids with a science fair project?” Rolling upon his landing, he swiftly webs two of the men’s hands and guns to the wall then shots a web directly in the face of another. While the man fruitless attempts to pull the sticky substance off, he’s suddenly roundhouse kicked into the counter which causes several beakers to crash on the floor. The last man lunges forward, swinging a fist at the back of the hero’s head, only for said fist to be caught midair. Within seconds, the man is flipped onto his back and webbed to the ground by his arms.

With the four goons taken care of, Spiderman finds himself facing the leader alone,“ come on man, you should really put those bottles down. You’re not even wearing goggles and that’s, like, the one rule science teachers care about.”

“Gladly,” the leader growls, throwing the bottle of acid towards Spiderman who jumps onto the ceiling light, quickly leaping to a further end of the room when the bottle of sodium metal is thrown soon afterwards. There’s only about three seconds in between the sound of breaking glass and a loud ‘pop’ that sends sparks of acid across the room, some of which hits one of the criminals who had been lying next to the counter.

The leader shows no concern over his subordinate’s screams of agony, merely flashing a toothy grin when stepping forward and selecting two bottles from his belt,“ you’re not the only one who knows your chemicals, Spidy-boy.”

He tosses the bottles towards the hero, resulting in sparks flying. Spiderman uses the hanging lights to swing himself around the room, dodging each explosion which will no doubt leave burn marks and fire damage all over the once polished floors. The biggest explosion occurs when the man grabs three bottles of a dark metal, a clear liquid, and a white powder. When he throws them under his target, they ignite, creating an awfully loud 'bang’ that shakes the walls and shatters the lab’s main window.

“Okay, first of all, it’s Spiderman,and secondly, throwing chemicals around like a toddler doesn’t mean you 'know chemicals’, only that you don’t know proper lab safety. Let’s review the basics, shall we?” He lodges himself at the leader, landing a punch to his face. Wobbling backwards from the force, the man drops a few bottles, some of the clear liquid splashing against his legs in the process,“ avoid skin and eye contact with all chemicals.”

He shouts in pain, but is cut off when Spiderman grabs the fire extinguisher kept on the side of the lab table, spraying the white foam to cover the man’s vision quicker than he can react,“ always know the location of fire extinguishers-”

Finally, using a web as support on the ceiling, Spiderman swings and kicks the man’s chest, sending him flying back into a small glass room mere few away. With another web, he makes sure to glue the dazed criminal in place before very casually walking over to pull the hanging handle which causes water to begin pouring from the sprout above, drenching the man,“-and the laboratory showers.”

“You fuc-” The man goes to growl but is shut up with a web to the mouth.

“No cursing either,” Spiderman smirks, leaning on his elbow against the wall beside the shower station,“ that’s not actually a lab rule, just a personal one. Can’t be a friendly neighborhood Spiderman while having a sailor’s mouth, y’know?”

He looks away, listening to the sound of growing sirens rather than the leader’s muffled shouts. Waltzing over to the broken window, Spiderman gazes down to see the street’s already lighting with blue and red, an army of police officers rushing in through the front doors.

“Well gentlemen, I’d love to stick around and continue educating you on proper lab safety, but I’m already late for dinner. Maybe we’ll get a chance to pick up where we left off once you’re, y’know, out of jail for burglary and destruction of property charges,” sending a halfhearted salute towards the group of criminals, Spiderman takes his leave through the window, swinging off with a proud yet tired smile hidden under his mask.

Eight hours; that’s how long he’d been patrolling the streets before noticing the shine of flashlights inside Oscorp. Eight hours on top of a nearly six-hour school day is exhausting even with superhuman endurance, but luckily for Peter, tomorrow is Saturday meaning he can actually sleep in for as long as he wants for once. In such a tired state, he could easily get lost in daydreams about a microwaved dinner and his soft bed, but the ideas are dismissed when an all too familiar feeling pierces through his senses.

The world seems to slow around him, his anxiety beating against his chest while his eyes dart around wildly to the tops of the buildings surrounding him. He can hear droplets of rain hitting concrete, splashing into even smaller particles which add to the thin layers of water covering New York. There’s also the sound of voices below, most people cursing the weather while some run after taxis in which stir up calm rain puddles and break the gentle atmosphere with their annoyed honking. Then he hears the whirling of metal-

-Suddenly maneuvering his body to the right, he uses a web to pull himself downward off course and away from the blade that shines with his reflect like a mirror mere centimeters above his head. Shooting another web, he makes a sharp turn at the corner, looking back in terror at his attacker who hangs off the side of a building, watching him through silver goggles, however, he doesn’t get much more time to take in their appearance. In seconds, a wire is sent flying past him, hooking onto another building which allows them to lunge forward at a blurring speed, their blade already pulled back and ready to swing.

Peter moves to dodge their next attack, but can do nothing when they predict his counter, somehow switching the direction of their swing faster than even his Spider sense can keep up. He hisses in pain from the feeling of metal being dragged across his stomach, cutting deeper than any other weapon has before. They look ready to swing again when he shots a web behind himself, heading backwards then around a few more buildings in a poor attempt of losing the attacker.

With one hand clenching the wound, Peter doesn’t dare look down at the damage, knowing by the way his face feels stuck in a scrunched-up expression of pain that it’s bad. His mind races with other thoughts, having never seen this person before nor has he heard of any villain who uses a type of grappling hook system somewhat similar to his webs-

-He feels his heart skip another beat when remembering the conversation he had overheard earlier this week between the newspaper club kids, more important, what he had heard Josh say. The Night Ripper, an infamous assassin armed with a blade made of vibranium…Could this be them?

Looking back, Peter sees no one on his trail and, for a moment, he feels relieved to think he might’ve succeeded in losing them, however, he should’ve been smarter than to trust such a notion.

Right as he comes around the next building, he spots the blur returning in the corner of his eyes, but this time, he puts his bloody hand up, desperately shooting a web into their face which throws them off guard. Despite jerking their head back in surprise, they still swing their sword blindly, cutting the web Spiderman hangs onto which sends him tumbling down towards the street while they land upon the nearest rooftop.

With irritation, the Ripper attempts to tug off the sticky webbing from their goggles to no avail. Upon realizing the substance can’t be removed so easily, they push the goggles onto their forehead, revealing their narrowed (e/c) that hold a poisonous anger in them.

Meanwhile, Spiderman uses a single web to swing himself towards an ally, crashing against the ground, although, such pain’s nothing compared to the burning of his stomach which is becoming too much to handle.

Clenching his side, he looks down at his torn suit at last, his head feeling dizzy at the sight of blood oozing from the gaping wound across his midsection. Sure, he’s gained plenty of wounds that have require stitches before, but nothing like this. It hurts…

With teary eyes and a shaky hand, Peter lifts his mask up to breathe easier before slowly pushing himself to sit upright. He lets out a cry at the feeling of his gloved hand rubbing against the raw injury which is deeper than he originally considered. It hurts so damn bad…

There’s a quiet 'thud’ that meets his ears, making his heart leap. Ever so slowly, he raises his head to the top of the buildings surrounding the ally. His breath catches in his throat at the sight of the Night Ripper who stands in all their glory in the shine of moonlight, staring down at him with a drawn blade.

Peter’s lip quivers from both the pain and fear he feels when meets those dull (e/c) eyes that stare down at him harshly. He’s afraid to move under that look, his jaw clenching and body tensing in preparation to fight for his life in a way he’s never done before. Is this what all the Night Ripper’s victims felt like before their deaths? But Peter can’t die here! He doesn’t want to die!

Then, for some strange reason beyond Peter’s own belief or understanding, those (e/c) eyes that once held a storm of fury soften. Within a blink of his own eyes, theirs become human, showing an emotion he can’t quite put his finger on even if he tired.

As if that isn’t strange enough, in complete contrast to his expectations, the Ripper doesn’t leap down from their post to finish their job. Instead, they hesitate to take a step back, remaining still for a second longer before suddenly jumping down the other way with the sound of their grapples hitting the air soon afterwards. Where most people would be crying with relief at such a point, Peter is left frozen with confusion, his mind continuing to race maybe even more than it had before.

The Night Ripper is a perfect assassin…A one solider army who can and will eliminate anyone they’re told to without sparing a soul…so why did they just spare Spiderman?

NEXT CHAPTER {Coming Soon}

Who Are You, Really? || Chapter 1

Pairing: (any) Peter Parker x Reader

Words: 1,696

Masterlist

WHERE’S THE BLAME

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The alarm refuses to understand how annoying it is, continuing to make Peter’s ears bleed until he finally throws in the towel first with a groan, his fist slamming down over the device with more pressure than it can take. The plastic shatters, sending tiny wires and pieces of chip across the bedstand which only draws another groan from the teen.

He’d continue to lie there curled in his cocoon of blankets all morning if not for that math exam he has during second period and Aunt May’s current calls from the other room,“ Peter, what are you doing?! You’re going to be late!”

Seeing that he no longer has a good o’ digital clock, he blindly slaps his hand across the bedstand before rolling onto his back with his cracked phone now in hand. From there, he tiredly blinks open his eyes just enough to see the glowing numbers on the screen, checking to see just how long he’s laid there after destroying his actual alarm clock.

“SHIT!” The covers of his bed are thrown into the air, drifting back down to the bed that’s he’s already leapt out of. Rushing around his mess of a room, he begins a desperate scavenger hunt for all the items that he requires for school. Textbooks, pencils, backpack, Spiderman mask, camera…He puts his hand on the doorknob before throwing his head back and spinning his heel. Shirt and pants! Can’t forget a shirt and pants; no one wants to see his boxers in first period Spanish!

“PETER!”

“I’M COMIN’, AUNT MAY!” He stumbles around, using one hand to help guild on his pants while the other stuffs school supplies in his bag. Using a web, he grabs the first shirt he sees on the floor, giving it a single sniff to decide if it’s clean enough for the day. A little smelly, but it’ll fine.

Once running into the kitchen, he hastily sends an apology to May while selecting an apple from the fruit basket. She, of course, takes instant notice to his bedhead and the wrinkles in his clothing,“ did you just wake up? Peter, how late did you stay awake? I wear I heard you up at midnight!”

Peter stiffens at her questions which confirms that he had, as previously worried, been a little too loud crawling through the window last night. It’s not his fault he tripped over his skateboard in his tired state…okay, so maybe itis his fault for not cleaning his room, but he would’ve gotten home earlier if not for that gang of bank robbers leading him on a high-speed chase through Manhattan! …Not that May ever needs to know he was hanging off the back of an armored truck yesterday.

“Sorry if I woke you up, May. I, um…I was studying late for my math exam. Yeah, I’m super nervous for it so I should get to school right now before I’m late. I love you, see you later!” Not allowing her any more time to question or scold him further, he throws out each word at a speed she can barely understand while pressing a kiss to her cheek for good measure.

After that, he’s out the door, sprinting to school without any intention of slowing his stride thanks to his increased stamina. He effortlessly dodges each pedestrian that moves in front of his path, weaving through the crowded sidewalks of Queens while reviewing possible exam questions in his head and occasionally taking bites out of the apple he’d be heartbroken to drop.

Of course, while Peter may be incredibly smart and focused when desired, he can also hold the attention span of a fruit fly, therefore, it should be no surprise that his run slows to a jog then an amble when spotting a bustling newspaper stand in which overflows with familiar red and black papers.

Many purchasers remain hovering beside the stand, hands occupied by newspapers as they mumble gossip to themselves which hints to Peter that the headline must be an interesting one. He’s quickly proven correct when managing to push pass the inconsiderate readers and catch a glance at the bold white headline:

NEW YORK’S KILLER! SPIDER-MAN’S TURNING TO EXCESSIVE FORCE! CIVILIANS BEWARE!

Peter spares a careful glance at the people surrounding him with furrowed eyebrows. Excessive force? Alright, so last night he webbed three guys to a wall and left the other two hanging upside down from a streetlight, but that’s not excessive, is it? He didn’t even land a direct punch on any of them, and they were shooting at him! What’s Jameson want him to do; stand there and just get shot?!…Okay, so don’t answer that last question.

While it might not be the wisest move to reward the Daily Bugle for spreading rumors, curiosity gets the best of Peter, leading him to purchase a newspaper to examine himself during his continued his route to school. Despite the obvious challenge behind reading and trying not to run into people at the same time, he manages to unveil the company’s latest ridiculous allegation about him, one that make his blood boil.

Osin Yousaf, leader of the Selvaggi gang that Peter had stopped the previous night, had been found dead earlier this morning after the police had received some anonymous tip. Regardless of a complete lack of actual evidence left at the crime scene, the Daily Bugle claims that the nonexistent ‘evidence’ points towards Spiderman having killed Yousaf all because of the bank robbery earlier that night. The newspaper even tops the article off by giving a warning for civilians to be careful in case Spiderman begins using excessive force against them, too.

Of course, it’s all completely outlandish. While Peter’s had several run-ins with Yousaf and his crew, he hadn’t seen the gang leader since they split up last night, both flooring it in different directions which had forced Peter to pick only one group to pursue. Even if he had seen Yousaf, there’s no way he would’ve killed him because Spiderman doesn’t kill people. That’s his number one rule!

Unfortunately for Peter, the newspaper claims had only been the start to his bad day. From being marked tardy in Spanish to the realization that he’s forgotten his history homework, poor Parker’s mood has been thrown in the gutter by the time lunch break rolls around and that group of six or so students sitting exactly one table in front of him aren’t making things better.

Peter rolls his eyes the second he hears one girl bring up the Daily Bugle’s latest report, asking for her friends’ opinions on Spiderman becoming violent. While most of the teens seem to agree on how unsettling it is and worry the police won’t doing anything about it, there’s only one person who immediately shoots down the preposterous idea.

“You guys are kidding me, right? Spiderman did not kill that guy,” even Peter raises his head, his face covered with crumbs from the cold grilled cheese sandwich he’s been miserably eating, not that there’s another way to eat school lunch even on the best of days.

“And what makes you so sure?”

“I could ask you the same question. Did you not read the details of the body’s condition? The guy’s hand had been cut clean off and he had a single, yet perfect stab wound that went right through his spine and out the other end! There’s no way Spiderman’s capable of something like that! The guys a pacifist looser!” Alright, so that one hurt, but Peter bites his tongue, having learned a long time ago that the more he inserts himself in conversations about Spiderman, the more suspicious people grow.

“Then who else would’ve done it? Seems like too big of a consequence for the guy to be involved in a crime Spiderman stopped then end up dead all in the same night!” One girl argues, causing the boy, who shares at least two classes with Peter and is named Josh, to lean back in his chair with crossed arms.

“The Night Ripper,” he says it so casually, peeking Peter’s unnoticed interest.

“The Night Ripper’s just a legend-” The girl goes to roll her eyes, but Josh sits up straight, the chair legs hitting the ground which a 'clink’.

“-No, they’re real! I did a project on them for my web design class. They say the Night Ripper’s a perfect assassin hired by the world’s most elite criminals. Armed with a blade made of vibranium, they’re like a one soldier army, eliminating everyone and anyone they’re told to while never sparing a soul. Think about it! It would make total sense for the Ripper to kill that Yousaf guy especially if he was involved in something bigger than a simple bank robbery!” Josh is beaming at his own point, eagerly waiting for his friends to agree with praises of how clever he is. Alas, the table only breaks out in laughter.

“You and your damn stories, Josh. Where’d you do your research? Wikipedia?”

“Wikipedia has a surprising number of good sources. Teachers just tell you not to use it because they like to make our lives miserable!” He attempts to defended himself, his face growing red with embarrassment over his friends’ laughter,“ I’m telling you, there’s something big going on in New York and all these gang related crimes are related to it! So is the Night Ripper! They had to have been the one to kill that guy, not Spiderman!”

While his friends continue to wave off his claims, Peter can’t help but hang onto Josh’s theory, making a mental note of the name. 'Night Ripper’, huh? A spooky name, he guesses, but all villains these days have some type of weird gimmick.

If this 'Ripper’ person really does exist and is behind Yousaf’s death, then they must be some type of big shot like Josh said considering the body’s condition in which the Daily Bugle made a point of detailing as violent. While a lot of questions can be asked about the Night Ripper, there’s one in particular that tumbles around in Peter’s mind: if the Night Ripper is working for elite criminals and is somehow connected with the rising gang violence in New York, just how long will it take until they cross paths with Spiderman?

NEXT CHAPTER ➡️

Who Are You, Really? || Prologue

Pairing: (any) Peter Parker x Reader

WARNINGS:Blood, violence, implied death

Words: 1,333

Masterlist

THE PAIN IN CRIME’S BEHIND

“Following a high-speed chase through lower Manhattan, five of the suspects were finally apprehended by none other than the masked hero, Spiderman. Law enforcement has taken the five into custody where they have been charged with robbery, assault with a deadly weapon, and attempted manslaughter with more charges still pending. The Chief of Police would like to remind the public that at least four other suspects are still on the run. If you have any information on the individuals seen in the provided surveillance videos, you are urged to call the following number-”

The horrid static of the old TV only ceases once it’s shut off midway through the reporter’s sentence, yet the man remains frozen in place with a same shameful bow of his head. His eyes are glued to the ground, his hands rubbing nervously against his pant leg as if trying to wipe off a stubborn stain of dirt. He isn’t brave enough to so much as glance at the woman who stands before him with crossed arms and a glare colder than liquid hydrogen.

She doesn’t say anything for a good minute or two since turning off the report which acts as an impressive intimidation method, one that dares the man to break the silence first in order to further fuel her anger. Even when he doesn’t make that mistake, she still moves on with business with a fuming shout.

“Do you realize how much shit you’ve put the organization in!” It isn’t meant as a question despite her used format,“ a police chase through Manhattan? You were supposed to be on a stealth mission! Get the money and disappear before anyone notices! You didn’t even try to be inconspicuous!”

“We tried to be subtle, ma'am, but then Spiderman showed up and one thing led to another. The alarms got tripped, Robbie and the others got webbed up, we…we went one way and the others got captured by Spiderman…there…there was nothing we could do,” the man’s voice grows quieter with each spoken word, his nerves slowly being ingested by the rageful look he receives. He should’ve known from the moment he opened his mouth that no excuse could be good enough to soften his current situation.

“Maybe I’m not an expert in the matter, but if it only takes one itsy bitsy spider to crush you, then I’d say you aren’t exactly cut out for this line of work, wouldn’t you agree?” The woman hisses, the man opening his mouth to further argue for his case, but he isn’t granted the pleasure,“ the boss is furious, I’ll have you know. This is the third job this month that you’ve messed up all because of that Spider.”

“I-I understand, ma'am, but I promise you, this was our last mistake! We will succeed for sure next time; I swear it on my life!” The man feels a small sense of relief when the woman turns on her heel away from him, but it’s short lived.

“Unfortunately, there won’t be a next time, Yousaf,” she says it causally while digging through her purse on the table, finally plucking out the phone she searched for. Her voice is now much calmer compared to what it had been just a few seconds prior,“…you see, Spiderman has become quite the nuisance as of lately and our boss is tired of having his toes stepped on, so he’s decided to take a new approach to the issue; a more appropriate measure for our desperate times.”

Yousaf shallows the lump in his throat, feeling that he might choke,“ has he…?”

A chill runs down his spine when a quiet ‘thud’ hits his ears from behind. Unlike the woman who continues to stare down at her device in a bored manner, Yousaf spins around to the sound’s source, his heart nearly stopping his chest.

Despite the dark goggles and mask that cover their face, it takes him no time at all to recognize the person who promptly stands from where they had landed on the ground mere feet behind him, unpretentiously sauntering over to join the two.

“Yousaf, I believe you’ve met (L/n), right? Well, I say 'met’, but I’m sure the two of you have never actually spoken to each other. 'Seen’ would be a more fitting word, wouldn’t it?” At last, the woman glances up from her phone, the corner of her lip tugging upwards into a cruel smirk,“ the boss has decided it’s best to finally utilize our little (L/n) out in the open field since, as I’m sure you’re aware, she has a perfect record comparable to an entire gang. With that said, there really won’t be much point in wasting time and patience in keeping you employed with us anymore.”

“H…Huh?” It’s all he can say through his shocked state.

“Of course, despite your own incompetence, some of your employees show great promise in which the boss plans to put to good use under (L/n)’s command. I’m sure you’ll agree that it’s an excellent choice, really.”

“But what about me?!” The shock finally wares off, replacing itself with vexation,“ what am I going to do!? I have a family to provide for! I need this job!”

“That’s none of our concern anymore,” the woman shrugs while turning back to her purse to put her phone away, but Yousaf isn’t having it. Throwing his common sense out the window, he lets his fury take over instead, a complete contrast to the submissive behavior he usually shows towards his higher ups.

“BULLSHIT-!” He takes one step forward, reaching his hand out to grab the woman’s shoulder, but within a blink of an eye, an agonizing pain is sent through his arm, ripping a scream from his lungs.

Throwing himself back in terror, he only manages to trip over his own feet, but the pain of the cement ground proves far less harrowing than that surrounding his wrist. Lacking the ability to think clearly, he makes the mistake of glancing down at his hand, or at least, where his hand should’ve been attached.

Another scream rattles through the room yet the woman only spares a tired glimpse over her shoulder, humming at gory sight that greets her eyes,“ my, you’re just a walking disaster anymore, aren’t you Yousaf? I’d figure you to have at least a decent amount of intelligent, but I guess this is an even better choice for the company that I originally thought…

"I trust you’ll be fine cleaning everything up on your own. I have a meeting across town and would hate to get blood on my skirt,” after receiving a wordless nod from you, she swings her purse over her shoulder before going to take her leave, however, as she walks past him, Yousaf reaches out shakily with his remaining hand, grabbing hold of her leg.

“…P-Please…I-I d-don’t wanna die-die here!”

“An orders and order, Yousaf, but don’t worry. I heard (L/n) is very quick with her work,” the woman effortlessly lifts her leg from his grip, shaking her head in disappointment at the sight of the bloody handprint that now stains her stockings.

Her heels create a sharp clicking pattern against the ground which does nothing to echo out the cut off scream left in her wake; not that she pays it any mind anyways. Instead, she taps away at her phone while waiting patiently right outside the warehouse despite the driver of a black Mercedes-Bez holding the vehicle’s door open for her mere feet away.

“Don’t worry yourself with the body. He wants it to be a message to anyone else who’s thinking of slipping up,” she explains dully once feeling your presences,” I’ll assume you already understand your next target. The boss has given you the freedom to take down Spiderman in any method you see fit. No one cares how messy it gets, just get it done.“

She barely spares you a glance as you coolly clean the blood off your sword with an already stained towel, your goggles glowing in the shine of the streetlights,” of course, ma'am.“

NEXT CHAPTER ➡️

|| MARVEL MASTERLIST ||

FANDOM MASTERLIST

Symbols Key:

- Series

- Completed Series

- Fluff

-Contains eventual warnings/possibly sensitive content (the specific warnings will always be listed at top of the story and/or the exact chapter they occur in)

Peter Parker/Spiderman

• Who Are You, Really?
• New Year’s Eve with Peter (Andrew Garfield)
• The Hidden Threat
• Peter, We Have A Problem

Bucky Barnes/ White Wolf

• We’ll Meet Again…I Know When
• Project X {coming soon}

Peter, We Have A Problem ||

Pairing: (Any) Peter Parker x Reader

Words:4,000

Overview:Aunt May and your parents visit for dinner, but instead of having a peaceful night with family like you had ordinally hoped for, your husband and yourself are stressed with the task of hiding an unexpected problem from your relatives, one that could expose Spiderman’s true identity if you aren’t careful enough.

Marvel Masterlist❤️Fandom Masterlist

Note:This can be seen as a continuation of ’The Hidden Threat’

Even from your spot in the kitchen, you can hear the living room TV echoing. Every couple of minutes, you’ll take a short break from your work to peek around the corner, smiling contently at the sight that always greets you. For the last hour since he returned home, Peter has been sitting on the floor with his back leaned against the couch, his arms wrapped around your son who is placed on top his lap. Both Parker boys carry the same hypnotized looks on their faces, their mouths slightly agape with their eyes glued on whatever episode of Sesame Street is currently playing on the TV, although, you doubt the youngest understands most of it. He’s likely just happy to be with his daddy.

While Peter keeps an eye on the baby, you’ve gotten to work on making dinner. About a week ago, you had made plans with both your parents and Aunt May to have dinner together. While they claimed that a family visit has been long overdue, it’s clear they’re mainly wanting to spend more time with the baby, not that you could ever blame them for being entranced by such an adorably cubby face.

Little Benjamin Reilly Parker was born on June 14th with a small fluff of brown hair upon his head and a healthy weight of 7.6 pounds. Needless to say, after months of constant illness, mood swings, and relentless kicking from the baby, you were very eager to finally meet the little monster as was your husband.

Benjamin is only six and half months old, yet he already has his daddy wrapped around his finger, Peter happily taking on the role of a doting father regardless of what it entails. If Ben’s hungry, he’ll volunteer to cradle him with a bottle no matter the hour. If Ben wants to play, you can expect to find your husband sprawled across the carpet with the baby lying next to him in his activity gym. If Ben is being extra fussy with you during the night, you bet Spiderman is going to kick someone’s ass much faster so that he can sooner get home to his son.

Speaking of Spiderman, Ben doesn’t seem to notice a difference between the hero and daddy. The second Peter crawls through the window, Ben is already reaching out to him with a smile and endless babbling, knowing all too well who’s under the mask. About a month ago there had even been a few pictures on the Daily Bugle of Spiderman stopping to say ‘hello’ to young mother and her baby. Of course, you played dumb when your parents called to inquire about the incident, agreeing with them that Spider must not be able to resist such a cute baby while also secretly elbowing Peter who had laid his head against your shoulder with a smirk as he listened in.

If there’s one good thing about Ben’s young age, it’s his inability to talk so far. You’ve brought the worry up to Peter a few times, quizzing him on what he’ll do if lil’ Ben ever starts referring to Spiderman as dad in front of people. Peter often chooses to brush the question off, insisting that Ben’s young enough for the two of you to convince people he just thinks of his dad as a superhero, although, you’re personally not convinced with that plan. Eventually, your son will have to be taught to keep his father’s secret just that, but for now, it isn’t too big of a concern, after all, Ben has yet to even say his first word. It’s not like he’ll suddenly say 'hey, Spiderman’s my dad’ the next time you take him to the store.

Peter’s arms snake around your waist as you stir the pasta noodles, his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck which draws a smile from you,“ May just texted a few minutes ago. They’re almost here.”

He just nods, smiling against the exposed skin of your neck.

“You know, she offered to bring a meatloaf, too.”

Even without seeing it, you know he’s making a face by the sound he makes alone, hiding himself further away in your hair,“ thank goodness you’re cooking. Don’t ever tell her, but your cooking is way better than hers.”

“Now Peter, I can’t lie to Aunt May. I promised to tell her everything,” you giggle when glancing back at him, his bottom lip pushed out in a pout as he whines your name,“ I’m joking. You know your secrets are always safe with me, my dear.”

Peter hums in satisfaction, pressing a couple of quick kisses starting at the crook of your neck to your cheek before pulling himself away to grab the glass of water he originally came into the kitchen for. Meanwhile, you turn off the stove and go to grab some cream cheese from the fridge, subconsciously glancing towards the living room where you should’ve seen Ben sitting in either his bouncer or laying in his activity gym in front of the TV, but he’s in neither spot,” did you put Ben in the crib?“

Peter pulls the water glass away from his lips, raising an eyebrow at your strange question,” no? I laid him down on his blanket so that he could play with his toys.”

It only takes you two steps to enter the living room. Seeing that your apartment isn’t huge, neither are any of the rooms, therefore, you have a full view of the floor just from where you stand. At first, you expect to discover Ben either rolling or crawling around the carpet as such as been a habit of his ever since he first learned to rock his body about a month ago, but instead, you didn’t see your child anywhere, making your heart drop into your stomach.

“Peter, he’s not here.”

“What do you mean ‘he’s not here’?” You husband doesn’t sound concerned, the meaning behind your words not processing in his mind.

You walk around the room distraughtly, looking on the other side of the coffee table and the two small couches,“ I mean he’s not here. I don’t see him!”

It only takes seconds for Peter join you in the living room, panic sketched across his face when he realizes you aren’t just pulling his leg. The baby really is nowhere in sight causing both of you to franticly search for him, your minds racing as would any parent’s if in your situation.

“I only left him for a minute at best! How could he have crawled away that fast? Babies aren’t that fast, right?” Peter runs down the hallway, his eyes scanning the floor in search of his son. He even looks around the bedroom and bathroom despite both doors having been shut just on the off chance that Ben somehow got inside.

“I don’t see him, Peter! How-How could he have just disappeared like this? How did we lose our baby?!” You get onto the ground yourself, checking under the couches and tables then dashing into the kitchen in hopes that lil’ Ben had tried crawling in there after his father. No luck.

“Maybe we’re just missing him?”

“How do you miss a baby, Peter!? It’s a baby!” Your hands are on your head, your fingers digging into your hair as you face your husband, your thoughts racing over how terrible of a mother you must be to lose your six-month-old baby.

“I don’t know-!” Peter doesn’t finish his sentence, instead jumping back when a small drop of water hits his forehead. Even you notice, both of you looking up ever so slowly from each other to where the droplet had fallen from. The sight makes your eyes widen and hearts race even more than they have been if that’s even possible.

“…Peter?”

“…Yes, dear?”

“W-What the fuck?!”

Both of your eyes are locked on the ceiling, or better put, on your son;your six-and-a-half-month-old son who is hanging upside down directly above your husband with his signature two-tooth grin and a line of drool dripping from his puffy lips. All either of you could do is stare for what felt like an eternity, that was, until you break the silence with a cry.

“Peter, get him down!”

Your husband snaps out of his trance, leaping up and easily grabbing hold of your son, although, he has a bit of difficultly with the 'getting him down’ part. Moving his knees to the ceiling, Peter gently tugs on Ben, yet the baby’s hands and knees remain glued to their spot,“ he won’t let go.”

“What do you he won’t let go? Just pull him off.”

“I don’t want to hurt him.”

You think for a second before standing on the coffee table, but even on your toes, you can’t exactly reach him, your fingertips only barely brushing against Ben’s back. He babbles, reaching one hand out to you with a grabby motion,“ don’t let him fall, Peter.”

“I won’t.”

“Come on, Ben. Let go and come to mama. You want mama, right?” At last, Ben removes his other hand, reaching it out to you with his knees becoming unstuck soon after. Peter’s hand on his back prevents him from falling, allowing him to slowly lower Ben into your safe arms where you’ve never held onto him so tightly before.

Peter falls to your side, the two of you searching Ben for any injuries before looking into each other’s flabbergasted eyes. You open your mouth, although, you aren’t sure what you’ll even say. You don’t get the chance anyways. A ring echoes through the apartment as well as a soft knocking at the front door which makes both of your mouths fall open.

“…Shit. SHIT!”

“Language-uh, the baby!” Peter fusses even though he’s saying the same word inside his head. The realization hits you both like a train. You know Ben takes after Peter in both looks and personality, but powers to? You have a baby who sticks to walls and you’re only just figuring this out the second your family arrives?!

“What do we do? How do we explain Ben sticking to stuff?”

“We don’t. Here, I’ll get the door and watch over Ben while you finish dinner,” you go to hand Ben over to Peter, but when you hold him out, his hands remain stuck to your shirt. You whine Peter’s name, remaining frozen as he tries to shake Ben’s grip from you to no avail.

“Okay, new plan. I’ll get the door, you finish dinner. Don’t. Ruin. It,” there’s no time for arguing or new plans, another ring sounding off from the front door. Putting on your best 'I didn’t just find my baby on the ceiling’ smile, you hurry to the door with Ben while Peter dives into the kitchen.

“Hi,” you sing when seeing May and your parents together, stepping aside to let them in while praying they won’t notice your alarmed state,“ it’s good to see you all again. Please come in.”

“It’s always great to see you, too, (Y/n), as well as this little cutie, of course,” May waves at Ben with a bright smile which grows when he giggles at her, trying to hide his face against your shirt. Meanwhile, you give both of your parents the best side hug you can while also holding Ben’s unwavering grip as far away from touching any of them as possible.

“Oh, he’s gotten so much bigger since the last time we visited. You’re making your grandma feel old, little bug,” your mother coos at her grandson, reaching her arms out to take him from you only to be confused when you suddenly turn your body away sharply.

You’re quick to redirect the conversation before she can be offended,“ Peter’s in the kitchen finishing dinner so we can all sit in the living room until it’s done. Please excuse the mess, we didn’t have much time to clean up Ben’s toys.”

“No one’s going to blame you. Having kids is a messy business,” your father jokes, the three of them heading into the living room with you in their trail. With their backs turned, they are completely unaware of your internal dread as you fruitlessly attempt to pry Ben from your shirt once again. Peter has told you about how much he stuck to everything when he first got his powers, but this is ridiculous not to mention poorly timed!

Once everyone’s seated, you give an quick excuse while dodging your way into the kitchen where you find your husband rushing to get the sauce made with his limited cooking skills.

“Ben, come to dada,” he calls, providing you a small bit of relief when Ben listens and reaches for him, although, his leg remains stuck to your shirt. The two of you gently fight with him for a moment, trying to weaken his grip without too much force when a voice comes up behind you.

“I baked a pie for dessert; it’s Peter’s favorite. Should I just set it here?” By the time May looks up from her pie tin, Peter’s arms are around your waist, pulling you to him with Ben sandwiched between you both, not that the little guy minds, in fact, he seems to loving the extra attention he’s receiving.

“Yep, that’s fine,” Peter gives a rushed nod, swiveling the two of you so that he can lean over to kiss May’s cheek as she sets the pie on the corner next to him,“ it’s good to see you, May.”

“And you, too, Peter. I see your doing an excellent job raising your little one. He looks just like you did when you were his age. Oh, I’m sure he’s just the handful, too,” luckily, May’s oblivious to your strange behavior as well as the praying Peter is doing in his head as he watches her run a hand through Ben’s fluffy hair, both of you begging it not to stick. For the first time that night, fate is on your side with May successfully removing her hand from Ben.

The three of you share a short conversation, Peter never faltering his grip on you. Despite May’s various offers of help, he finally manages to convince her to wait in the living room while the two of you worry over dinner. With a relieved sigh once she exits, Peter turns to you only to be horrified by the look on your face as Ben tugs on a rather thick handful of your hair, the expression you’re giving your husband already saying it all.

You can hear May and your parents talking lively in the living room, unaware to the snipping of scissors as Peter cuts your hair from Ben’s grip. Although he tries to cut the least amount of hair as possible, you know by his grimace afterwards that it’s noticeable. He switches the scissors for Ben, taking him into the living room while you disappear into the bathroom to get a hair tie, putting your hair into a messy ponytail to hide the evidence.

From there on, it feels like you’re looking into the room every few seconds as you do the finishing touches to dinner. You know Peter’s just as worried by the various glances he sends towards the kitchen whenever no one’s looking at him. He makes every excuse in the book as to why no one can hold Ben while keeping him directly on his lap and far away from any other objects.

It’s as if you can read each other’s minds, knowing exactly what is at risk if anyone sees your baby’s tight grip. While they may not link it back to Spiderman directly, you’d eventually have to admit it just to keep them from ushering you to the doctors for your child’s strange 'disease’. Believe it or not, but neither of you really want to have that long conversation explaining to everyone that Peter’s not only Spiderman, but that his warped DNA has unexpectedly managed to passed down to the next generation.

Even when dinner’s ready, Peter doesn’t move Ben far from himself. You make your husband a plate, pressing a kiss against his cheek and ignoring Ben’s grabby hands as you pass by. As much as it kills you inside to hear Ben’s cries for attention, you let Peter convince him to sit with dada on the chair you had pulled up for them while mama sits with Auntie May on one couch, your parents together on the other.

“He sure loves his daddy, doesn’t he?” Your mother comments. Fortunately, you’re half away through dinner and no one’s noticed anything off yet.

“Yeah, his dada’s little boy. Aren’t you, Lil’ Ben?” Peter hums with a genuine smile while squeezing Ben’s cubby hand. Afterwards, Peter’s easily able to pull his own hand away from his son’s adhesive skin. ‘Must be nice’, you think.

“You’re gonna have to drop him off with us sometime, you know. He needs to learn he can get spoiled at grandma and grandpas,” your dad chuckles, leaning back in his chair with his empty plate balanced on his knee.

“It looks to me he’s already pretty spoiled here,” May jokes with a look of fondness while watching her nephew share his meal with his son one silly face and small fork full at a time. Ben’s admiration is clear by the way he stares up at his daddy with glittering eyes and a spaghetti-stained face, a look Peter shares (minus the stained face since May thankfully taught him long ago not to be messy when he eats).

“…Dada’s boy for sure,” you can’t help but smile yourself with one look towards your husband and son. Yeah, Ben’s powers are going to be a pain to deal with and it’ll scare the life out of you if he ever decides he wants to fight crime like daddy, but nothing could ever make you love your son any less. For the time being, you’ll just have to find a way to control his powers. Sure, your family is going to be disappointed when you don’t let them hold Lil’ Ben tonight, but it isn’t as if he’s going anywhere. Once your husband and you figure everything out, you’ll be able to invite them over for a much better dinner-

“-D..da..dada,” your eyes go wide as do everyone else’s when hearing the tiny yet clear voice, all eyes turning to the source, however, when you do, you’re surprised to notice that Ben isn’t looking at Peter. Instead, his head is facing forward with his cubby hand reaching towards the muted TV screen or, more specifically, towards the picture of Spiderman that’s showing on the news.

It takes every ounce of will power for Peter not to immediately burst with joy, agreeing with Ben in front of everyone and encouraging him that it is, in fact, dada on screen. Instead, he must suffer with that bubble of happiness in silence the same way you do as your eyes dart between your husband’s face to your baby’s.

“I guess Spiderman sure made quite the impression on the little bug,” your mother reckons in awe.

“Was that his first word?” May asks in surprise and you nod wordlessly, Peter being too busy holding a hand over his mouth in a poor attempt at blocking his giddy laughter. He has to force himself not to shake you while gushing about over Ben saying ‘dada’.

“Damn, not even to his own dad?” Your mother elbows your father for his remark, hissing at him to be quiet.

“We shouldn’t be too upset, I guess. Spiderman’s a great guy, after all; someone good Ben can look up to, right Peter?” You smirk, placing a hand over his free one while his other is still preoccupied hiding the massive grin over his face that would look far too strange on the face of a father who supposably just heard his son call someone else 'dada’. You can’t blame him, though. Even you can’t suppress the grin as you look you down at Ben,“ dada’s right here, honey. Can you say it again? Dada?”

“Dada?” Peter finally speaks, tickling Ben’s arm to gain his attention,“ dada. Da-da.”

“Da…dada,” Ben watches Peter’s mouth, following the movements and sounds he heard. He smiles at the bright look his daddy gives him, repeating the word once more with both hands outstretched in attempts to grabbing his face,“ dada!”

“That’s right, Ben! Dada!” Peter lifts him up, holding him in a standing position so that Ben could actually put his hands against his cheeks,“ dada…and that’s mama. Can you say mama? Ma-ma. Ma-ma.”

Ben looks to you, staring for a moment while babbling the sounds he’s hearing before finally getting it right after quite a bit of practice,“ mama.”

“Yes, I’m mama,” laughing cheerfully, you run a hand through his fluffy hair, not even considering the possibly that it could’ve gotten stuck. You’re too happy to worry over that.

Ben giggles, looking back to Peter and reaching across his face. Even with his sticky hands, Peter doesn’t mind, pressing his forehead to his son’s as they both laugh. Your mother and May gush about how cute they both are while your father sits back with a smile of his own. The joy everyone feels over witnessing Ben’s first words is enough to distract your guests from your strange behavior throughout the night, eventually excusing your habits of not letting them hold the baby as the two of you must just be soaking up the moment with your son.

By the end of just three hours, your parents and May depart from the apartment but not without making you promise to bring Ben to visit them soon. Once everyone is out the door, you shut it with a tired sigh that turns to a gentle smile when you hear Ben’s babbling behind you.

“Ma-Mama,” turning around, you’re greeted by your smiling husband and baby, the later reaching out to you with grabby hands.

“That was fun,” Peter comments, brushing your hair back to press a kiss to your forehead as you take Ben from him, fully aware it’ll be a fight to pry him away from yourself later. Looking from your child to your husband, you already expected the giant grin plastered on his lips,” Ben said his first words. He called me 'dada’!“

"Technically he called Spiderman 'dada’ meaning you’ve got some competition for the role, Mr. Parker,” you tap Ben’s noise, smirking when Peter rolls his eyes, his arms wrapping around your waist to bring you closer to him, but your smirk soon turns into a frown, a sigh escaping your lips again,“…what are we going do now? They may not have seen anything tonight but May wants us to visit next week and if any of them ever notice Ben sticking to stuff, they’ll eventually realize why he called Spiderman 'dada.”

“I know…May would be heartbroken if she found out you had an affair with Spiderman, but I guess no one can really blame you. Word on the street is he’s pretty hot not to mention excellent in bed. How is a normal guy like me to compete?” Peter jokes, causing you to whine his name in halfhearted annoyance. He chuckles, moving to kiss your lips, although, he only gets a small peck before you move away with a pout.

“Peter, I’m being serious. I don’t care so much about our family knowing, but if the wrong person finds out, what will happen?”

Now it’s Peter’s turn to sigh, his forehead resting against yours,“ then we make sure no one does…I’ve been through all of this before, I know what to expect. I’ll teach Ben how to control his powers and, as he gets older, we’ll make sure he understands that Spiderman and his dad need to be separate people.”

When you lift your head, your lips slightly brush against his,“ and if he decides to fight crime while wearing bright spandexes?”

“I’ll give him 'the talk’,” he simpers, his hot breath blowing against your lips before he finally rids of the gap with the deep kiss he’s been waiting for all night.

“…Peter?” You break away, but the distance only lasts a second before Peter’s lips are back on yours.

“Yes, dear?”

“Ben has my ponytail.”

“…Shit.”

The Hidden Threat ||

Pairing: (Any) Peter Parker x Reader

Words:2,729

Overview: Your husband’s spider-sense has been acting up quite a bit lately, making him paranoid that something will happen to you if he can’t locate the threat in time.

Marvel Masterlist❤️Fandom Masterlist

Twelve years ago, if someone were to ask Peter Parker what the best thing to ever happen to him was, he would’ve made up a convincing lie while secretly thinking about the radioactive spider bite that granted him his powers, but if someone were to ask Peter Parker the same question now, he won’t hesitate to gush about his wonderful wife instead (although, the spider bite will still be a close second, no doubt).

Peter adores you, something no one in their right minds can deny without the man making it his personal mission to prove them wrong and you’re really no different yourself, often spending entire nights cursing out the person who just sent your husband home to you bloody and bruised. During those nights, Peter likes to close his tired eyes and imagine the hell you’d try to give his enemies if you ever happened across them in person which always rises a chuckle from his lungs especially when you notice his thoughts, insisting on the damage you could do despite not having any powers of your own. ’Never underestimate an angry wife’ is what you always say, and Peter never makes the mistake of forgetting it.

Being Peter Parker’s wife has plenty of benefits, your favorite simply being that get to call yourself Mrs. Parker, a title you wear with pride after having dreamed about it since the beginning of your relationship (and even before it, honestly). If you could look into a mirror at the same time that you introduce Peter as your husband, you’d see the sparkle of happiness that tinkles in your eyes. Telling others that Peter’s yours causes your heart to swell, but not nearly as much as it does when he introduces you as his wife. No mirror is required to see the joy that takes over his own expression then. Nearly five years of marriage and you both continue to act like giddy teenagers when it comes to your relationship. Chances are, that’s not going to change anytime soon either.

Peter is an extremely loving husband who does all he can to ensure you never forget his admiration towards you whether it’s through small gifts like bouquets of handpicked flowers, poorly cooked yet well intended candlelight dinners, or even simple words of affection throughout the day. For Peter, all the stresses of his life melt away under your presences alone whether it’s when you’re wordlessly laying with your legs over his lap while reading on the couch or when you’re patching him up after a particularly rough patrol, your attention fixated on your work until he steals it with deep kisses and roaming hands. Where most of your friends complain that their husbands seem distant after a few years or less, you have yet to experience that yourself and so long as Peter’s around, you doubt you ever will.

Of course, it’s not to say your marriage with Peter doesn’t have its challenges, the biggest drawback being the fact that it isn’t just Peter who you married. When you recited your vows all those years ago, promising to always love and protect the man in front of you, unknown to all of your guests, you hadn’t just meant Peter, but also his alter ego, Spiderman.

Being married to Spiderman is a little more demanding than if you were simply married to the ordinary side of Peter. Most nights, Peter’s out saving New York City, sometimes not returning until the earliest hours of the morning, however, that isn’t what bothers you the most about his second job. Yes, it gets lonely at times, but say the word and Peter will spend each second he can in-between with you. What troubles you the most is the constant condition he returns in once his superhero work is done.

Peter Parker is a good man at heart. He’d do anything to protect New York and his loved ones, but even with his spider-like powers, he isn’t invincible. It never matters how much he assures you otherwise, you have always understood from the day he told you about his secret that you could lose him at any moment which is a day you can never stop fearing.

Peter shares a similar fear, being notorious for worrying over your safety and how his heroic activities might put you in more danger that he can stand. Spiderman had made too many enemies over the years, most of which would be ecstatic to discover the masked vigilante they despised is married to you. Peter could never forgive himself is something happens to you, therefore, he can be rather protective especially under certain circumstances. Crimes are on the rise in New York? Maybe you should work from home today. He recently pissed off some new supervillain? Yeah, he’ll stay in a motel for a few nights just to be sure they don’t track him down to you. His spider-senses have been going off none stop for the last two days? Forget him leaving your side.

You don’t need spider-senses of your own to know something is wrong with your husband’s. His strange behavior lately is enough to give you that guess on its own. While it isn’t necessarily unheard of him to suddenly get anxious, usually he discovers the cause right away whether it’s a crime occurring around the corner or that one time someone tried to steal your purse as the two of you walked home after visiting May, but whatever it ended up being, it has never lasted for as long as his current worries.

It all began at around 1:00am yesterday when Peter suddenly jerked you awake, scaring the daylights out of you with the claim that someone was in the apartment, but after an extensive search of the area, he found nothing alarming. Even so, he continued to fidget all night, his strong arms snaked around your midsection as they held your back to his chest, your hands intertwined together. When you had questioned him about it directly, he mumbled into your hair that he ‘just didn’t feel right’. Needless to say, neither of you got much sleep that night both due to Peter’s restlessness and the shared anticipation for something bad happening.

You had awoken again around noon, not too surprised to find yourself alone in bed with a note on the bedstand telling you to have a good day with a little reminder of your dinner plans at a new sushi restaurant down the street. Not feeling the greatest due to your lack of sleep the night before, you spent most of the day being lazy, snacking on crackers and watching tv from bed until Peter came home. By the time he walked through the front door with a bright smile on his face, you had disregarded the morning’s situation with his spider-sense, however, when he embraced you, his body tensed and his head flinched to the side, wordlessly telling you his anxiety had returned.

Deciding he was may be stressed with work and in need of a break, the two of you continued with your previously planned dinner date, one that didn’t end out as well as you had hoped due to you getting a bad case of food poisoning. While holding your hair back as you threw up all of your stomach’s contents, Peter made a hopeful comment about how the food positioning must’ve been what his spider-senses were worried about all day, but alas, the second he joined you in bed that night, the tingling feeling came back with an extra bite.

Considering all the factors, Peter reached the conclusion that something’s wrong at home and if something’s wrong at home, he refuses to leave until he has discovered the threat. Perhaps it’s selfish, but New York City comes second to his wife, so throughout the day, the two of you have searched for anything that could be out of place to not avail. No alarms are going off signaling a gas leak, there’s no smell of anything burning not to mention you checked all of the outlets, nothing is out of place to raise suspicion of having been robbed…and yet Peter’s spider-sense is still bothering him.

By noon, you opted to just ignore it, craving subs from the corner deli shop for lunch, however, Peter argued against the idea, refusing to let you go anywhere so long as he feel so anxious, but after some pouting and moping on your part, he felt guilty enough to cave in, the two of you creating a compromise that he’d take you to get subs if you stayed directly at his side the whole time. So long as you get to drool over the sight of the mouthwatering subs, you didn’t mind.

“It’s like when I first got bitten; before I knew how to control my powers. There’s something driving my spider-sense crazy and I just can’t find it,” Peter complaints to you out loud, watching from his spot on the kitchen counter as you cut the two subs in half,“ I felt it when we went out to the deli, but if I go into the bedroom or living room, I don’t feel it…You’re not poisoning my food, are you?”

You chuckle with a shake of your head at the question that many wives would find insulting,“ nope, afraid not, love.”

Peter huffs in annoyance, although, it isn’t aimed towards you. Instead, it’s aimed towards his powers. Why are they acting up so suddenly after twelve years? Is he losing them or his control? That can’t be it since everything else is fine like his healing and strength. Only his spider-sense is being difficult.

“It’s strange. You’re sure it just started yesterday?” You glance over your shoulder at him while setting each slice of the subs on two plates accompanied by a handful of chips (or two hands in the case of your plate).

Peter nods when you look at him,“ when I woke you up. It kept up until I got up again in the morning then was fine all day at work until I got home. Even at the sushi restaurant, I felt it.”

You grimace at the memory, pointing the butter knife at him accusingly,“ there was a reason for that time! That was the worse food poisoning I’ve ever had in my life. In case you already forgot, I was throwing up forhours. I’ll never eat sushi again!”

Peter smiles, his cheek resting against his fist which was propped up on his knee,“ give it two weeks and you’ll be wanting to go back.”

“Doubt it,” you gag, passing the two plates over to him to take to the living room while you circle around to the fridge to grab two cans of soda.

“They need to update their slogan from 'best subs in Queens’ to 'best subs in New York’. It was the right call to get lunch there, babe,” he comments, looking down at the messy sandwiches while taking a seat on the couch with a smile which grew when he heard you snicker.

“Five years of marriage and you still doubt your wife, Mr. Parker. When will you learn that I’m always right?” You set one can of soda on the coffee table in front of him before taking your plate from his hand and moving to join him on the couch, that was, until he suddenly grabbed your wrist, stopping you in place,“…what is it, Pete?”

Peter doesn’t answer. He isn’t even looking directly up at you yet his eyebrows are furrowed, his face scrunched up in concertation as he focused on the tingling of his nerves.

“…Take a step back?” It sounds like a question when he lets go of your wrist, not looking to you. You raise an eyebrow at him, but follow his words, nonetheless, walking backwards until you’re nearly in the kitchen again, your plate of food balanced over the palm of your hand,“…come back…”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, walking back over to the couch and sitting down at last,“ you’re sure acting weird lately- weirder than usual, that is.”

Still, he doesn’t answer you, instead standing from the couch wordlessly. You turn your attention away from your food, frowning at your husband who stares down at you with narrowed eyes before slowly kneeling in front of you. You hum your concern, setting your plate on your lap so that you could move your hands to brush against his hair. He continues to stare at your midsection silently before his eyes go wide, his mouth slightly agape.

“Pete? What’s wrong, hun?”

“…I found it.”

“Found what?”

He looks up at you, his eyes twinkling in both the light of the apartment window and the beads of water in them. His hands moved to your stomach, pressing against it ever so carefully as if it is the most precious thing in the world.

“…Why my spider-sense has been going off…That’s why I felt someone else in the apartment the other night and why I only feel it whenever I’m directly around you,” his words became increasingly more rush and excited as his sat up a bit taller so that he can move his hands to your cheek while possibly the widest smile you’ve ever seen tugged at each end of his lips, “ you’re pregnant!”

“H-Huh?” Now it’s your turn for your eyes to go wide, one hand subconsciously moving to your stomach as the other moved to set your plate completely to the side, the food you waited so desperately for completely forgotten,“ b-but…how would you…?”

It makes sense the more you consider it. The two of you are married and like any loving married couple, well, you take part in quite a bit of ‘intimacy’ which you both have recently started taking less precautions with. It isn’t as if you’ve been actively trying for a baby, but you also haven’t been actively trying to prevent one either. One could say that you had both agreed on having a kid or two at some point while the fear of being parents still wavered your minds, leading you both to conclude it would be easier to let fate decide what will happen and when.

Once Peter’s words fully process in your mind, you are quick to stand to your feet with your husband following directly in your trail on the way to the bathroom. You practically tear it apart in search for the tests you had bought three months ago, shooing Peter out once you locate them. Even then, you can hear him pacing just outside the door, mumbling out loud to himself over the likelihood. You two have definitely been intimate as of recently, your period isn’t due for another week so it hasn’t given you the chance to notice it’s possible absences, but you’ve been tired and sick while also eating more than usual, and he only gets his spider-senses around you especially when your stomach is closest to him…he’s certain your pregnant, but at the same time, he refuses to get his hopes up too much before it’s confirmed (not that they aren’t already all the way up with the chance alone).

After what felt like hours to Peter, you open the door, the little white stick in your hands as you stare at him with wide eyes. At first, he worries he had been wrong, but when you suddenly leap at him, your arms flung around his shoulders as you laugh and cry at the same time, he lets all those doubts wash away with happy tears of his own. His spider-senses were never alerting him of a threat, only to his child’s existence inside your womb; the tiniest of heartbeats calling out to him from the moment it began.

“You’re pregnant! We’re going to be parents!” Your laughter increases when Peter effortlessly spins you around before setting you down and eagerly kissing you. When you both pull away from the deep kiss, he runs a hand through his hair giddily,“ we’re gonna be parents! I’m gonna be a dad! I-I gotta call Aunt May! She’s going to be so happy, but first-”

He barely gives himself time to finish his own sentence, peppering you in countless butterfly kisses with one hand on your hip and the other over your stomach where he could now knowingly sense his unborn son or daughter growing.

…It looks like the radioactive spider bite is now in third place for the best things to ever happen to Peter Parker.

New Year’s Eve With Peter ||

Pairing: TASM Peter Parker x Reader

Words:2,720

Overview: It’s nearly midnight on New Year’s Eve and your friendly neighborhood spiderman/best friend has a special surprise for you.

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Tap. Tap. Tap.

You weren’t sure if it was the whispered knocking you somehow heard or the slight shift of red and blue you spotted in the corner of your eyes, but either way, you found your attention being drawn away from your laptop screen to the bedroom window where a familiar culprit stood on the fire escape outside. Regardless of his identity being hidden behind his infamous mask, you could perfectly visualize the goofy smile he had pulling at his lips just by the way he seemed to perk up when noticing he had gained your attention at last. You could also make the assumption that he was silently begging you to provide him refuge from the cold, a gift he was most thankful for after long patrols on winter nights.

Removing yourself from the bed, you hurried to open the window, allowing your friend to finally slip inside where the room’s warmth welcomed him with a wave of comfort compared to the chilled breeze of New York City’s air. Even you shivered upon feeling the icy air which managed to seep inside after him before you could close the window again,“ what are you doing out so late? It’s freezing.”

“I’ve been out later in colder weather,” he dusted off your worry which a shrug. By the time you turned around, he already had his mask off, allowing you to confirm that he did, in fact, wear that sideways smile of his that never failed to make your heart swell,“ besides, it’s New Year’s Eve. Everybody’s out late.”

“A lot of crime I’m guessing?” You scanned over his body with your eyes, a habit you had developed after the first few times your friend had showed up battered at your window. Such was usually the main reason he visited as his alter ego. Although you were no doctor, you could bandage him up better than he could himself not to mention your presence alone made him feel better after long nights of fighting villains. Surprisingly, he looked unscathed for once with no visible wounds at least.

“Not really. It looks like there’s a lot of police out doing the work for me tonight,” he answered happily while glancing around your room, taking note of the glowing laptop set aside on your bed. He felt a small amount of relief knowing he hadn’t woken up even if he doubted he would’ve. He was certain you stayed up late most nights especially considering his frequent nightly visits,“ is your family home?”

“My mom already went to sleep, and you know my sister. She gets so absorbed in her games that she wouldn’t notice an earthquake,” it wasn’t unusual for him to worry about your family’s whereabouts since it wouldn’t exactly look the best if your mother or sister entered your bedroom only to find you whispering to a half-naked Peter Parker dressed as Spiderman while you patched his wounds. Your mother would surely freak out, and your sister couldn’t keep her mouth shut long enough to not tell everyone she knows who Spiderman is; neither situation would be good.

While his questions about your family never surprised you, his next question made you raise an eyebrow,“ do you have your coat?”

“My coat? Why?”

“I have something I want to show you and it’s cold out.”

“Peter, it’s 11:30 at night and 8 degrees outside. Where would we even go this late?”

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Peter nor were you against hanging out at the moment, after all, you were best friends and spend most of your time together already, but that was with Peter Parker, not Spiderman. Refusing to ever put your life in possible danger, the idea of anyone seeing you by Spiderman’s side never sat well with Peter, therefore, he normally refused to even chance it. The only exception he made was to visit you after his patrols, but even that took a great deal of convincing after the first occurrence. All it took was one enemy or even the Daily Bugle to spot you together which would risk the wrong people discovering you were something special to the hero and as a hero, it was never a good idea to have someone openly special to you. Peter would never forgive himself if you gained so much as a scratch from someone trying to get to him. So, why was he going to risk it tonight?

His hand reached for the back of his neck, his smile turning into one born of nerves. You could’ve sworn there was even a bit of pink to his cheeks, but maybe that was just due to the cold,“ it’s a surprise.”

You hummed in wonder, too tired to decipher where you could possibly be going so late on a holiday. Nevertheless, you agreed, after all, who were you to deny spending New Year’s Eve night with your favorite guy? You loved Peter enough to spend every night with him if he asked.

~ ~ ~

Ever since the night you found out Peter was Spiderman, you wondered what it was like for him to spend his nights swinging around New York City, being granted a bird’s eye view of all the shining lights and tiny people walking below. You had imagined it was especially beautiful during the holiday season…Well, you couldn’t really say it was as amazing in person compared to those daydreams.

It was a wonder that Peter hadn’t complained about how tightly you held onto him, your legs locked around his waist like a boa constrictor with your arms wrapped a little less tightly around his neck as to not choke him, however, you still held on tight enough to remain firm against his chest. Deep down, you knew Peter would never drop you. He had promised as much from the second you stepped onto the fire escape to the moment he actually leaped into the air not to mention he never dared take his left arm off of your back, only using his right to swing around. Regardless, you refused to let your grip falter as he kept your head tucked against the crook of his neck, the cold air burning your cheeks and causing your eyes to tear up anytime you gained the courage to glance down at the streets below. You had no idea how Peter did it every night; the constant shifts between free falling before suddenly being jerked back up. Luckily, you had been on enough carnival rides to not throw up.

"You hanging in there?” Peter glanced down at you, the hint of teasing obvious in his voice.

“How much further?” You only answered his question by pushing your face closer against his suit, your entire body shivering despite having the thickest coat you owned on. You were really going to chew him out later for not wearing a warmer outfit himself during the winter months.

“Almost there,” he chuckled, taking a hard right that jerked your bodies to the side,“ your hood up?”

You only nodded, having been careful to keep the top of your hood pressed against his chin to prevent it from blowing back. You hadn’t been surprised to find Peter had one major condition for taking you out with him as Spiderman: keep your hood up at all times. While anyone could see Spiderman swinging around with a random girl, no one would be able to see your face well enough to identify exactly who you were. Of course, you had no objects to this rule especially considering how cold it was.

Suddenly, the streets became louder, the sound of cheering echoing out the harsh wind that blew past your ears the entire time. Peeking your eyes open again, you looked down upon the hundreds of people below the two of you, most of which were wearing top hats, cheap beaded necklaces, and blow-up sticks which helped them compete against each other when making as much noise as possible. While some of the crowd’s cheering became directed towards Peter as they took instant notice to Spiderman swinging above, most of the attention was strictly focused ahead as everyone watched the glowing ball upon the One Times Square building.

Finally, Peter landed, carefully lowering you down while warning you to watch your step. Hundreds of feet above the street, you found yourselves on top of Times Square Studios where you not only had an amazing view of New York City’s biggest New Year’s Eve party, but also the famous Times Square Ball in which flashed various patterns of colors as it waited in the dark sky for its moment to truly shine. You could only stare in awe at it all. It was beautiful.

“Are you surprised?” Peter’s voice broke your thoughts, ripping your attention away from the celebration below to him. The lights of the billboards and street illuminated him, making the eyes of his suit practically glow thanks to their reflective surface.

Despite having lived in New York your entire life, you had never actually seen the New Year’s celebration in person. Your mother, forever a worrier, didn’t trust giant crowds, so allowing you to go just wasn’t an option. You had told Peter this a week ago as well as your wish to see the ball drop at least once in person, but you never actually considered he’d take it to heart. It was only a small point in a long night’s conversation you two had. To have him not only remember and take you to the celebration, but to also get you the practically the best seats out of everyone else-

“-This is amazing! Thank you, Peter,” you spun around, wrapping your arms back around his neck, this time in a tight embrace. He smiled under the mask, returning the embrace as he rested his chin against the top of your head. While it may not be visible, his heart warmed at both the sight of you happy and the feeling of having you so close yet again. It was a wonder that he managed to remember where Times Square was with having someone he held so dearly to his heart being held literally to his chest.

“I hoped you would like it. You said you’ve never been and neither have I. Who better to watch the new year start than with you?”

You smiled, the red of your cheeks no longer being due to the cold. Best friends or not, it made your stomach feel fuzzy to think Peter would think of you. Sure, you were the only person who knew he was Spiderman, but it wasn’t like he couldn’t have gone by himself. Hell, it would’ve probably been a great opportunity for him to ask someone like Gwen Stacey out. What girl wouldn’t want to spend New Year’s Eve with Spiderman?

Soon, the two of you found yourselves sitting on the roof of the building, Peter lying on his back with his arms folded under his head while you sat with your knees to your chest and gloved hands in your pockets, trying to keep as warm as possible. Five minutes till midnight. You could barely hear one of the concerts playing down on the street over the cheering crowd which made you even more thankful for being on your own little rooftop with just Peter.

“This year’s gone by too fast,” you broke the silence between the two of you, your eyes still locked forward at the building ahead,“ but it’s actually been a pretty good one, I have to say.”

You heard Peter shift to sit up, his leg brushing against yours due to the proximity between the two of you,“ what’s been your favorite part of the year?”

“Um…That one’s difficult. A lot’s happened. We’re officially juniors meaning we only have one year left, I finally got a driver’s license and a job…” you pretended to think long and hard about his question despite already having the exact answer in mind,“ I think I’m gonna have to say…finding out my best friend is Spiderman! Yeah, that’s a good one.”

You smiled at the memory even if it had been a terrifying occurrence at the time. Anybody would likely freak out when hearing a loud crash outside their window with a bleeding Spiderman being the culprit. You had been about to screamed for your mom when the injured hero pushed himself up, weakly begging you not to draw attention to him. While Peter hadn’t ordinally meant for you to find out about his alter ago especially in that way, you had recognized his voice immediately, your fear turning to instant worry as you ushered him inside, almost crying when you saw just how deep the cuts were over his chest.

“I guess it was a good thing I decided to crash on your fire escape that night then,” Peter gave a small laugh, looking to the sky above. He remembered how bad he felt when seeing how scared you were that night, but at the same time, there had always been a selfish part of him that was happy to know someone like you cared so much about a loser like him,“…I think that was my favorite part, too.”

“Really?”

He nodded, fidgeting with his gloved fingers,“ to be honest, having you know took a lot of stress of my shoulders…It’s not that I don’t love being Spiderman and all, but ever since I got bit by that spider, I’ve just felt…alone in it. I had no one to turn to, not even Aunt May or Uncle Ben. I didn’t have anyone to talk to after a rough night or to tell me how I was doing… Then you found out. I finally had someone to share it all with, someone to tell me I was actually doing a good job, to say that they supported me…and someone to pull me back when I got too far… It felt relieving especially with it being you of all people. I knew that if you were saying that what I’m doing is right, then I has to be true.”

"I really am proud of you, Peter,” you rested your head against his shoulder, smiling when you felt his rest his head on yours, “and Ben would be, too, just so you know.”

“I know…Thank you for always being there, (Y/n).”

“And thank you for trusting me. It’s not a small task to know a hero’s true identity, so I’m honored that you let me know even if it was by accident,” you nudged him with your elbow, causing him to chuckle and wrap him arm around your waist, pulling you closer to himself.

“It was the best accident of my life.”

You noticed the screen below the Times Square Ball was at a less than a minute now with the object in question beginning to lower from its stand, people on the streets below count down in sync with its movements. Lifting your head from Peter’s shoulder, you watched eagerly as the timer got closer and closer to the moment everyone waited for, the crowd growing louder with each tick of the clock.

Ten!

Nine!

Eight!

Seven!

Six!

You felt Peter shift, but you paid little attention to action, figuring he was just getting more comfortable.

Five!

Four!

Three!

Two!

ONE!

The crowd erupted into the loudest cheers you heard all night, fireworks exploding in sky and confetti raining down on everyone. You barely had time to process the hand that reached for your cheek, gently moving your face to the side until your lips met with another which applied the smallest amount of pressure that still managed to make your heart do backflips. Just as you began to close your eyes and enjoy the kiss, Peter had pulled away, staring down at you with his mask pulled up only slightly over his nose, just enough to expose the lower part of his face.

“Happy New Year’s, (Y/n),” he gave you a nervous smile, a dark red in which matched his suit painting his cheeks. You smiled brighter than the city lights, wasting no time in catching his lips against yours once again. Your arms snaked around his neck, the two of you laughing between peppered kisses that showed no sign of ended anytime soon.

Best Part of the New Year: Peter Parker becoming your boyfriend.

Who Are You, Really? || Masterlist

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Marvel Masterlist❤️Fandom Masterlist

STATUS: Ongoing

OVERVIEW: As a descent of an infamous assassin family, it’s only natural that you’ve never failed to accomplish your goals. Armed with years of flawless experience forged from the hardships of your life, you’ve ultimately become both respected and feared by most of New York. With unmatched skills paired with undying loyalty, you’ve never once hesitated to eliminate anyone who’s made the terrible choice of standing in either you or your boss’s way…so why did you spare Spiderman?

NOTE:This story attempts to use neutral details and original storylines in order to fit any version of Spiderman so that you, the reader, may choose the variant that you wish to fill the role whether it be Andrew Garfield, Tom Holland, Tobey Maguire, or someone else if you really want.

WARNINGS:This story will eventually contain mature content including swearing, violence, gore, and themes of mental illness. Reader discretion is advised.

CHAPTERS:Prologue,One,Two,

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Y/N enters the room with Star Wars and Y/N’s favorite anime in their hands: So what are we watching for tonight Pe-.

Peter is changing out of his Spiderman suit looks @ Y/N:Yes?

Y/N without thinking:Gimme some of that Spidussy.

Peter: A how’s your day been Peter? Would be nice, or Did you save all those people in Fisk Tower? Would be good too.

Peter internally: Omg they think I’m hot.

Y/N whispers into Peter 3’s ear: Why dont you show me what those web shooters can-.

Peter 3 drops a beaker flustered as it crashes to the floor:Y-Y/N!

Peter 1 working on the other side of the lab: What’s happening over there?!

Peter 3 covers Y/Ns mouth with his gloved hand: Ah n-nothing at all.

Extra

…..

….

…

..

.

Peter 2 catches Y/N by herself: Y/N next time leave room for Jesus.

Y/N embarrassed having forgotten that all the Peter’s have super hearing: Yeah of course.

TRIGGER WARNING! SEXUAL ASSAULT

word count: 2431

request by: anon

WARNING: Might be triggering to some people! Please do not read if this may harm you. No fic is worth your safety. 

Ridiculous. That is what you would describe this entire day as. It was nearly midnight and you were finally leaving Flash’s house after finishing your chem lab work. Of course he waited until the night before it was due to invite you over to “help”. His version of helping is sitting beside you talking complete nonsense while you do all of the work. You swore that if your teacher ever assigned the two of you to work together, you were going to just throw him off of the school building.
What’s worse is that he didn’t even offer you a ride home afterwards. He seriously expected you to walk home in the dark by yourself. At the time, you were just happy to be leaving his house. But about twenty minutes into your journey, you were drowning in anxiety. Every single sound or slight movement that you heard, you were immediately spraying pepper spray in that direction. Of course it was useless since the trash cans you heard rattle were not a threat, but you couldn’t be too careful. 

When you weren’t giving yourself a heart attack, you were thinking up a million ways to murder Flash. Decapitation. Throwing him off a building. Running him over with his own car. The possibilities were endless. 

“What are you doing walking around this late?” a gruff voice asked from behind you. You were so caught up in your own head that you didn’t even see the three men leaned against the side of a building. Your spine snapped straight, feigning as much confidence as it could in its terrified state. 

“As if it’s any of your business,” you scoffed before attempting to walk away from them. However you felt two hands snake around your waist from behind. You jumped, a surprised yelp jumping out of your throat. Quickly, the man covered your mouth with a sharp curse. 

“Come on, now,” he scolded you, “There’s no need for that. We aren’t gonna hurt you, baby.” 

You squirmed in his grasp as he led you over to his friends, one hand holding your waist in a death-like grip. Your attempts at calling out for help were all muffled behind the man’s hand. However futile they felt, you never once stopped. If you had any luck, some sort of stranger could walk by. Maybe they could hear you crying out for them. Maybe you could be saved from this. 

“I’m gonna need you to shut the fuck up,” the man holding you growled into your ear, his lips brushing against your skin which made you recoil from him. He pulled you back to him harshly, his grip curling slightly which caused his nails to dig into your flesh. You let out a painful whimper, too scared to scream anymore. 

“There you go,” he praised gruffly before turning to his friends, “good bitch knows how to take orders.” 

His friends laughed alongside him as they approached slowly, each of their hands moving to caress various areas of your body.                                                                                                                                                                                                                               You weren’t sure you could call it that at this moment though. It didn’t feel like your body anymore. Not with their hands and bodies pressed against it. And how do you move a body that isn’t yours? The most you could do was shut your eyes. Close your eyes and pray that this will end quickly. But as the sound of your shirt ripping off your body was heard, you didn’t have a single ounce of hope left.  

“Hey!” a voice broke through the air. The hands of the men stopped suddenly. You assume they had turned to the origin of the voice, but you weren’t ready to open your eyes just yet. Not when you felt the cold chill of a sharpened blade to your exposed neck. 

“How about you back away, Spiderman?” a cocky tone chimed in from behind you. He spun the two of you to face Spiderman, causing you to cry out in fear as pressure slightly increased under the blade. Your eyes opened as if on their own, the sting of the cold metal against your surprising them open. Spiderman’s stance straightened in surprise. Before now, you had kept your hair partially sheltering your face, when you looked up to see the man- he acted almost as if he knew you. 

“Don’t you hurt a single hair on her head,” Spiderman growled, his posture shifting into a fighting stance. 

“It’s up to you, Spiderman. You move, she gets hurt,” the man cooed teasingly, “But if you leave, I’ll put the knife completely away.”

Spiderman looked at you for a moment, and even though he was wearing a mask… you knew that he was sorry. The knife was against your neck. If he were to move his hand to shoot his webs, there was a good chance that he couldn’t stop the knife in time. Sadly enough, you understood. You knew that no matter what superpowers Spiderman has… right now he couldn’t save you without gambling your life. So instead you just closed your eyes. It would be easier to forgive him for this if you didn’t see him leave. 

The men laughed cockily as the sound of Spiderman retreating hit your ears. Immediate tears formed in your eyes, well aware of what he had left you with. You tried to tell yourself that it wasn’t his fault. There was nothing he could have done. He isn’t the monster of this story. But it was so hard to convince yourself while foreign fingertips greedily scanned your bare skin. 

“I think that since I was the one who got rid of ole Spidy, I should get first dibs,” the man with the knife whispered against your ear before softly nibbling your neck. You recoiled at the feeling and let out a pathetic cry. 

“I’m the one who caught her,” another griped, “If I wasn’t behind her, she would’ve gotten away.” 

The men bickered, their motions becoming harsher. You tried not to cry, not wanting to give them more satisfaction than they were already stealing from you. Soon the argument took over the situation, causing two of the men to break away and fight on their own. To them, you were nothing more than an object. They only saw you as some living toy used only for their desire. It was sickening. How could they not care that they were ruining someone’s life? 

The second the men broke into their own battle, a figure swooped in from the sky and kicked off one of the men held against you. A small smile broke out of your face as you witnessed the man slamming against the ground, unable to bring himself back up. The men fighting stopped instantly, turning to keep you cornered behind them. However, before they could make it to you, webs shot out of the sky. The web wrapped completely around them, immobilizing them. You watched with bright eyes, finally seeing some hope in this horrible situation. Spiderman swung out from the shadows and slammed against the two men, kicking them away from you. You heard them struggling against the webs, but your eyes stayed locked to your savior. 

“I suggest you let her go,” the man growled, stepping closer to the two of you. The man didn’t give up, instead using you as a shield. You felt him pulling you backwards with him, but if it was just one guy- you could do something about it. 

You waited until he was taking another step back before twisting as best as you could and slamming your leg into his groin. You heard the man let out a sharp breath of air before doubling over. Immediately you intertwined your hands and slammed downwards, knocking him to the ground face first. The two of you left standing winced slightly at the sound of bones breaking. The impact of his nose against the concrete caused it to break. It made you happy, knowing that you wouldn’t be the only one scarred from the situation. 

“Ma’am?” Spiderman asked from behind you, not wanting to step forward and frighten you more than you already were. You turned towards him and it was something about being able to move freely… or maybe it was the fact you didn’t feel their hands anymore. Whatever it was, it caused tears to flow freely down your face. Spiderman jumped slightly in surprise as a loud sob erupted from you. 

“Take me away from this please,” you wailed, “Please get me away from them or I’ll be the one having to go to jail. Please take me away.” 

He moved quickly to you and waited for your permission to wrap his arm around you before swinging the two of you away from the men. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to get back in time to arrest the one not webbed, but you were more important to him than anything else. 

The two of you ended up on top of an apartment building. He placed you on the ground as gently as he could, but it didn’t matter. The second your feet touched the ground, you dropped to your knees and cried. 

“I-I’ll be right back I promise,” Spiderman said before jumping off the side of the building. A few minutes later he showed back up with a t-shirt and jacket in hand. You thanked him and put the clothing on. Whenever you turned back to him, you saw him facing the other way with his hands over his eyes. 

“I don’t know why you’re doing that. You’ve already seen it,” you said quietly, hugging yourself with the fabric, “you can turn around though. I’m done.”

“I kept my eyes closed when I got the first three guys,” he admitted sheepishly, turning towards you slowly, “With the last guy, I looked only at him.”

Red hit your cheeks, “Thank you for that,” you mumbled, “And for saving me. I know that there was nothing you could’ve done the first time so… thank you for coming back.”

“I never left. I waited until it was safe… I had to wait until the guy with the knife was far enough from you. I’m so sorry it took so long.” 

You were trying your hardest to fix your composure. You didn’t want to look weaker than you already did. So you stood tall  and wiped the leftover tears off of your cheeks. Spiderman surveyed your posture before slumping.

“Y/N you don’t have to be on your guard with me,” he sighed, “I know you’re scared, but we know each other. Just trust me, please? I won’t hurt you.” 

“We know each other?” 

You could see him thinking something over with himself before he answered, “If I take off my mask will you not freak out or tell anyone?”

“Will you tell anyone anything about what happened tonight?”

“Other than the cops, no. I won’t use your name either.”

“Then we have a deal,” you agreed, still being on your guard. But when he lifted his mask, you broke down completely. You ran into his arms and hugged him as tightly as you could.

“Hey,” Peter shushed you calmingly, “You’re safe here. I’ve got you.”

“Peter,” you cried painfully into his chest. Peter was one of your best friends, and as soon as you calmed down from the situation- there would be a talk about why it took so long for you to be in the know. But for right now, you just wanted him to hold you a little longer. 

“You can stay at mine tonight,” he told you, kissing the top of your head, “Aunt May won’t mind and you can just tell your parents you stayed at MJ’s. She’ll cover for you.” You nodded, unable to speak. You just held onto him as he took you back to his apartment. 

-

Peter led you to the shower as soon as you got to his house. You thanked him as he turned the water to an appropriate setting. He of course made it a little hotter than he normally would because he knew how you liked the water hot. He left the bathroom for a minute and returned with a set of clothes, a towel, and a spare toothbrush. 

“You know where my room is. I told Aunt May you’re here, it’s up to you whether or not you want her to know. She’s so tired that she didn’t really question it. Plus she knows about the whole side job thing.” 

You thanked Peter, motioning to the shower, “I’m gonna get in now. I’ll probably be a while…” 

Peter’s expression contorted to concern, but he just nodded. He knew it was better to just let you cry it out for right now. As much as he hates seeing you upset, he knew that you needed to get it out. 

And you did. You sat on the floor of the shower for an hour and sobbed. You kept it as quiet as you could because of Aunt May, but it was hard. 

You scrubbed your skin raw until you felt like you’d gotten most of their filth off of you, but some would always remain inside of you. The memory of you would keep their torment alive forever. They knew that, and you were sure they loved knowing you were going to suffer thanks to them. 

Whenever you finally rejoined Peter, he was sitting up in his bed changed into nightclothes already. You had stayed with him before, but this was the first time you were nervous to share a bed with him. He noticed immediately and hopped off.

“I’ll stay on the couch tonight,” he announced, “Do you need a light? I don’t know how you feel about the dark right now. But I have a lamp I could keep on.” 

You shook your head, “No I’m fine, but you can stay. I-As much as I’m scared to share a bed with a male right now, I’m more afraid of being alone.” 

Peter nodded and walked towards you, enveloping you in his arms, “I’m so sorry I didn’t get there faster.” 

Hearing his words, you let your walls down once more and clung to him, “Could you just take the pain away? It hurts… “ you whispered in a broken tone, Peter held you tighter to him, “It hurts so much.. Help me.”

Peter sighed, unsure of how to tell you that he didn’t know how to fix this. All he knew is that he would never let you leave his sight ever again.

No Inhibitions - Peter Parker

WARNING: SMUT, THIGH-RIDING, OVERSTIMULATION, SMUT SMUT SMUT (SEX POLLEN)

WORD COUNT: 3777

—-

You told him that it was a bad idea. Tony specifically told the two of you to stay away, but Peter wanted to see what everyone was being so secretive about. Of course you didn’t want to join him, but he begged you and Peter had this ability to convince you to do just about anything. He knows it too. So when he came into your room and begged you to come with him (Tony would be less likely to yell at him if you were with him), you couldn’t say no.

But you should’ve.

“Peter what are we even looking for?” you asked him with a bored expression. Peter looked back at you and shrugged. He didn’t have a clue. You sighed and leaned against the door frame, waiting for your idiotic friend to hurry up and leave. The deal was that you would go with him to the room, but you wouldn’t go in. Peter whined for a moment about it, but decided that it was better than nothing.

“I’m guessing I’ll know it when I see it,” he commented as he continued snooping around Banner’s work space. Guessing that you would be there for a while, you pulled out your phone and began scrolling through social media. You could hear Peter shuffling around the room mumbling to himself, but you concluded that if he found what he was looking for he would let you know.

It was quiet for a while, maybe two or three minutes before you heard clattering and Peter let out a short cry. When you looked up, you saw Peter flat on his ass looking up at some weird pink plant. You didn’t move to help him up or make any noise because of the look he had on his face. He looked dazed or distracted, like he was in some trance.

“Pete?” you asked with furrowed brows, shoving your phone back into your pocket, “You doing okay over there, Spidey?”

Peter’s gaze snapped away from the plant immediately and stuck on you. The way he was looking at you caused your heartbeat to quicken. He both looked confused and enthralled at your presence. You backed away slowly as he rose to his feet, not fully trusting his willpower at the moment.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me,” he spoke almost robotically, stepping closer towards you, “But I think you might need to get Mr. Stark.”

Without questioning him, you took off in the opposite direction where you assumed Tony would be. You ran as fast as you could through the headquarters, earning the attention of everyone you passed. When you finally caught a glimpse of the man, he was in a conversation with Banner. Normally you would just stand beside them awkwardly until you were noticed, but of course this situation was a bit different than all the other times.

“Tony!” you yelled as soon as you saw him, “Tony something happened!”

He turned around and looked at you with a surprised expression, “What hap- where’s the kid?”

You doubled over, holding onto your knees to catch your breath. Tony, who had an idea of what was going on, grabbed onto your shoulders and lifted you to his eyesight, “Y/N, where is Peter? Please tell me you did not go in the lab!”

“I-I didn’t,” you panted, “But Peter did. He messed with something, I don’t know what it was.”

Tony growled lowly to himself, removing his hands from your shoulders, “I need you to go into your room right now and don’t come out until I come to get you.”

“What ha-”

“No,” Tony snapped at you causing you to flinch slightly, “You don’t get to ask any questions. What you get to do is listen to me for once and go to your room.”

“Tony, all due respect and all, but I am not a high schooler anymore,” you seethed, not appreciating his tone, “I am twenty-three, okay? I told Peter to not go in there, but he didn’t listen to me. Don’t you dare treat me like a kid when I am just concerned for my best friend. So you’re going to tell me what the fuck happened in that lab and you’re going to tell me now.”

Tony sighed, his leg shaking impatiently. He didn’t have time to argue with you on this. Peter could be anywhere in the building by now. As much as Tony loved the fact that you were learning to stick up for yourself, he also knew that Peter probably figured out what happened in the lab. If he found that out, that means he’s trying his best to stay as far away from you as possible. There is no telling just how long he can hold himself back. Tony sighed, looking back at Banner who looked just as worried and guilty as Tony did.

“Banner, tell her everything,” Tony instructed, but before you could rejoice, Tony continued, “but walk her to her room while you do it. Quickly please.”

–

“So you’re saying that Peter was infected by…” you trailed off, not sure what to call the mysterious plant Banner was explaining. Apparently Banner and Tony found it on some planet or something. Tony, of course, was curious and talked Banner into helping him discover it’s powers. Little did they know that they ended up stealing a mating plant.

“We aren’t sure what to call it,” Banner explains, “but all we know is that once you sniff it, you go a bit crazy. Your inhibitions drop and your libido kind of goes crazy.”

“So you’re basically telling me that Peter sniffed a mysterious alien plant and is now roaming the building with a major boner?”

Banner slightly cringes at your terminology, but he couldn’t really argue with it, “Yeah basically.”

“So why am I being sent to my room like a scorned toddler?” you huffed.

Banner looked at you for a short moment, wondering if you were actually serious. When you didn’t budge, he just shrugged his shoulders, “I have no idea. But I’d rather follow Tony’s orders than be on his bad side.”

“I guess I understand that,” you stop in front of your door, turning to the man with a puzzled expression, “I have one last question.”

“Go for it.”

“How are you guys going to help him?”

-

It has been an hour since Banner and Tony stuffed you into your room. There hasn’t been any word on Peter’s condition, nor if they found him. Of course you have been blowing up everyone’s phones, but the only answer you received was from Nat. It was pretty vague also.

“Stop being a chicken. Do what you have to do. I never sent this message.”

You hate that you knew exactly what she meant. It didn’t take you very long to connect the dots as to why you were the only person being locked in their room. When Peter looked at you after messing with the plant, his eyes never left you once. The way that his eyes traveled down your body like he was soaking you in… You began to berate yourself for taking this long to realize.

You were the first person he saw. That had to be it.

But to break it, you would have to do something that would possibly end your friendship with Peter. Having sex with your best friend has always been the number one “do not”, but what if it was to save him? Though you weren’t entirely sure if he would die from this, but the way Tony was acting you just assumed it was lethal. So you asked yourself the dreaded question:

Would you have sex with your best friend in order to save their life?

Easy. Yes.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about it before. There was no way that you could see Peter Parker without a shirt and not have that thought. The one reason you never crossed that territory is because you know Peter, and you know that he wouldn’t endanger your friendship like that. Unless he was saving you from an alien plant that made you super horny? Honestly this whole situation is very Riverdale-y.

So you texted Nat. By now she would know.

Where is he?

She didn’t take long to answer you back.

His room.

-

“Peter?” you whispered, knocking lightly on his door. You could hear shuffling noises from behind the door, but Peter never replied. He had to be in there, Nat said he was. Also, who else would go into Peter’s room? On the brightside, if you were to go in and it wasn’t Peter- you could possibly catch a thief or an eavesdropper. It didn’t take long for you to make up your mind before you pulled out the spare key you had to his room. Peter had one to your room too, just in case.

Whenever you walked in, you noticed that his room had been destroyed. His desk, which was normally cluttered with his little inventions, was empty. The tools and other objects that normally resided on the desk were scattered around the floor. You searched the room for the boy, but he was nowhere in sight.

“Pete?” you called softly. A soft groan sounded from above you. Startled by the sound, you looked up at the ceiling to see your best friend covered in sweat. You could see the pain in his eyes as he looked down at you.

“Y/N, you really shouldn’t be in here,” Peter struggled to speak, jumping off the ceiling but staying a fair distance from you.

“Nat told me where to find you, but I’m not supposed to tell anyone,” you spoke softly, attempting to approach him. Peter back up into the wall, trying to stay as far from you as he could.

“Please,” Peter strained, “You don’t understand, you can’t be in here.”

“Banner told me what happened with the plant,” you sighed, stepping forward once more. Peter couldn’t back up anymore. He was stuck.

“Y/N can you not hear me?” Peter whined, “Just listen to me for once. Leave. Please.”

“I’m not leaving until I fix this,” you spoke stubbornly, your arms crossing in front of your arms, “Banner didn’t tell me why I was the only one being kept from you, but I finally figured it out. So I came to help. Please let me help.”

“You figured it out?” he croaked, “And you’re not… do you… you know?”

“I was the first person you saw after you were infected,” you explained, “So I’m guessing it’s like a love potion type deal? First person you see, you get stuck too.”

Peter looked at you in shock before laughing, “That’s not it at all, Y/N.”

Your eyebrows furrowed at the boy, a small frown tugging at your lips. Peter watched as the wheels in your head began to turn. You would figure it out soon. When you did, that would be the end of your friendship. There was no way that you would stay friends with him once you figured out how obsessed with you he was. He’d been in love with you forever and he was really good at hiding it from you. Years and years of pretending that he didn’t think about you writhing underneath him as his lips greedily devoured you… down the drain.

“Oh,” you whispered before meeting his eyes, “That makes this a whole lot less awkward.”

Peter’s grip on the window seal tightened, the wood splintering in his grip. He didn’t meet your eyes, afraid of what he would say or do. His resolve was crumbling by the second and he didn’t know how much longer he would be able to keep away from you. But then he realized something.

“Less awkward?” he spat, “Really? Is right now the time for you to be making jokes?”

“I’m not joking with you, Spidey,” you huffed, “I was going to have this whole heartfelt confession about how I really like you, but you know what. If you don’t want sweet, fine. You won’t get sweet.”

Peter’s eyes darkened, “You-”

“Like you a lot? Have imagined you pinning me down? Wondered what it would be like to have you whisper in my ear? Yeah all of the above, I guess. Also, Peter you broke the window seal. I’m not taking the heat for it so y-”

Hands reached out for you in a frenzy, both grasping onto your hair and tugging you backwards until he had you pressed against the wall, his knee positioned between your legs. You felt Peter’s lips envelope your own, snatching the breath right out of your lungs. Peter’s lips were soft and inviting, also they had a hint of a maple taste but that could be because you made him pancakes this morning. One of his hands abandoned your hair and fell onto your waist. You didn’t argue with him as his fingertips dipped underneath the fabric of your shirt, though you did make a sound when his warm hand caressed your breast, but it wasn’t in protest.

“Peter,” you moaned as his thumb grazed the fabric over your nipple. You felt his body go rigid against yours, a groan of desperation soaring past his lips.

“Pretty girl, I’m going to need you to stay a little quieter for right now,” he strained, “I don’t want our first time to be a blur to you. If you keep making beautiful noises like that, I might break and take you right here.”

You smiled at him challengingly, “Maybe that’s exactly what I want.”

Peter shivered at your words and gave you a wicked smile before placing both hands on your waist and wrapping you around his hips. His greedy lips bruised the skin of your neck, marking every available spot that he could reach. Your head was thrown back in bliss, symphonies of needy cries escaping your lips. It didn’t help that you could feel him against your crotch, teasing you ever so slightly.

Peter sat on the bed, leaving you sitting pretty on his lap. However, it wasn’t his plan to keep you there.

“Stand and strip.”

You didn’t challenge him this time, you would save that for later. Instead you just stood and slowly removed each article of clothing. Peter’s eyes drank in the sight of you bare in front of him, his beautiful eyes darkened by lust. It only made them more beautiful.

“Good girl,” he hummed, “Now sit on my knee.”

Confused, yet intrigued, you followed his orders. Peter smiled, loving how obedient you were being for him. The look in your eyes as you sat and awaited your next instruction. But he didn’t say anything, not at first. Instead, he began bouncing his leg. A struggled moan pushed passed your lips as the movement stimulated your clit. Your hands desperately grasped onto his shoulders in an attempt to steady yourself a bit better. Peter watched you with an amused smile on his lips. He loved seeing the way your eyes screwed tight just at the feeling of his thigh, He couldn’t wait to see your expression when he pushed himself into you.

Peter’s hands fell to your waist, guiding your hips in a grinding motion. You quickly understood his silent instructions and you kept the motion going, pressing down harder on his thigh.

“That’s my pretty girl,” he whispered, his lips grazing your bruised flesh, “I want you to keep going until you cum.”

You whined at his words, but you did as you were told. You rocked your clit against his denim clothed thigh, your eyes fluttering shut at the friction gathering between the two of you. Peter watched you with hunger in his beautiful brown eyes. The desire to touch you became too strong for him, leading him to allow his hand to travel to your heat, rubbing circles against it. The second the pad of his thumb pressed against your soaking wet clit, you were gripping tightly onto his thigh in order to quicken the pace. Peter smirked, enjoying the fact that all it took was his thumb and his thigh to have you falling out of place for him. As your pace increased, so did the bouncing of his knee. He closed his eyes, trying to lock the memory of your desperate mewling inside his mind.

“Peter,” you whined, your nails digging into his jeans.

“Are you close, pretty girl?” he asked sweetly. You could only nod in return, your eyes screwing shut at the knot turning in your stomach. Peter removed his empty hand from your waist and lifted it onto your breast, circling the areola faintly before dipping his head down and encasing your pearled nipple between his perfect lips. The sensation was the finishing touch to make the knot in your stomach finally break, causing stars to erupt in your eyes. You screamed a moan as you tried to ride out your high on Peter’s thumb and thigh, but he had other plans. The second you came, Peter flipped the two of you around, slamming your back onto his mattress. You didn’t have time to question him, nor were you really interested in asking.

Peter helped you ride out your high as he continued rubbing circles on your clit, high pitched whines dripping from your lips like profanities. It was the most provocative thing that Peter had ever heard in his entire life and he was hoping to remember the sound of you screaming his name on the day that he dies. Your hands reached forward and grasped onto Peter’s curls, tugging mercilessly at them.

“Peter,” you cried, “Peter please…”

He didn’t take another moment before ripping off his clothing and following you down onto the mattress. Peter’s warm palm was placed against your breast, massaging it and ever-so-slightly twisting on your nipple. More cries. Peter couldn’t get enough of the way you looked and sounded, dripping wet and desperate. For him. He reached into the dresser beside his bed, pulling out a condom and effortlessly sliding it onto his hard cock.

“Hey,” Peter hummed, “Pretty girl, I want you to tell me if it hurts okay? If it hurts, we will stop immediately.”

Your eyes opened to meet his, and to any other person- you would look like the most innocent girl in the world, but he knew you better than that. He knew that the innocent look was an act, and he was proven correct by your following words, “Make me hurt.”

Peter grinned, “God you’re hot.”

He didn’t waste any time before gripping your hips and thrusting himself in completely. You screamed his name so loudly that both of you were sure that the entire floor heard you. Of course neither of you cared at that moment. Peter dug his nails into your hips, leaving angry crescent shaped scars on them that he would later kiss as an apology. However, as of right now, he was unapologetic in each of his movements. Each deep thrust, each scratch, each sharp nip of your flesh… Peter did it all.

“Baby I-” that’s all you could get out before being interrupted by your second orgasm.

When you came for the second time, Peter discovered that it felt so much better having you come undone around his cock rather than on his thigh. The feeling added with the way you called him baby…You were in big trouble now. Peter was rushed with another frenzy, flipping you around onto your stomach, lifting you ass into the air by your hips, and slamming into your entrance once more. You crumbled onto the bed, your pussy throbbing against his cock. However, Peter didn’t like you like that, he wanted you upright. So he reached down and grabbed onto your hair, yanking you up onto all fours. He gripped your hair in two parts, using them as leverage to slam your body back into his with each thrust. Stars, fireworks, cannonballs… you saw them all.

“Fuck baby,” Peter groaned, he emptied one handful of hair into the other hand and used his now-empty hand to turn your head, kissing you deeply. You tried kissing back, but the angle was too awkward and you couldn’t stop the moans from filling the room. Peter lowered his hand, using it instead to choke you once more. He would use his grip on your throat just like he used your hair, causing him to go deeper and deeper into you.

“Peter I can’t,” you struggled. You were so close again and you weren’t sure how much longer you could take this. You told him to hurt you, not wreck you. Hopefully you wouldn’t have to go on a mission for a few days because you’re not entirely sure that you would be able to walk.

Peter understood you though, but he was far from finished with you. He reached his hand around your waist and began to circle your clit once more, overstimulating your body. Peter felt as you began to shake, coming so close to your orgasm that you could almost taste it.

“Not yet, princess,” Peter growled.

A breathy whimper escaped your lips at his words, you didn’t know how long you could keep it from coming. Peter was hitting every good spot and you were on the edge of spilling over.

“Peter please,” you cried, your hands grasping onto the pillow on his bed, submerging your face in it.

“I said not yet,” he chastised, his hand coming down on your ass as quick as lightning. A sharp moan filled the room as his hand print  settled on your ass cheek. Peter flipped you over once more, wanting to see your face as you come undone.

“Now?” you begged him, tears brimming your eyes.

“Cum for me, princess,” he instructed. Your walls came undone around him as he spilled into the condom. You felt him twitching inside you as he messily tried to ride out each of your highs. Whenever both of you came down, he pulled out of you gently and tied the condom, tossing it into the bin. Peter picked up the nearest blanket and wrapped the two of you in it. He watched you as you cuddled closer to him, a content smile on your pretty face.

“I know it’s a bit late to ask this,” Peter whispered to you, gently brushing strands of hair out of your face, “but will you go on a date with me?”

You smiled up at him, taking in his perfect features once more before nodding, “But don’t be mistaken… I don’t kiss on the first date.”

DO NOT REPOST ON ALTERNATIVE SITES UNLESS YOU WANT ME TO SPAM EVERY LAST ACCOUNT YOU OWN- PLUS YA MOMMAS. I STG.

Times this has been stolen: 3 (ongoing)

still alive i am!!!1!!

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.

Both hearts skipped a beat.

i want to be tagged or let to know what i think

masterlist

✒ONE SHOTS:

1. “Way Too Far From Home”
2. “Empire State“
   

My main masterlist♡

Peter: Are you laughing at that video of Bucky and Rocket fighting?

Tony:No.

Y/N: We’re laughing at the comments.

Summary: This AU is based on an idea from an old prompt in which people have tally marks to represent how many times they have fallen in love. Peter has fallen in love a couple times, but never been loved back. Peter is college age, would say around 21-23, and so is reader and company.

Author’s Note: This has honestly been something that I’ve been wanting to write for a while, and finally found the time to sit down and write it. Though still testing the waters, so please let me know. Would most likely try to be a slow burn, like definitely be more than four parts.

Word Count: 2K

—————————

“Ned, I told you, she isn’t in love with me,” Peter repeated for the eighth time in this same phone conversation, but that didn’t mean that it hurt any less.

“Are you sure? I mean it could just take a while for hers to show up soon?”

“Ned, I really don’t want to say this but she did have a red mark, but it wasn’t for me,” he finally caved and explained the one fact he has kept thus far, “I didn’t think she would pull something like this, that’s why she can’t love me…because she loves someone else,” he sighed almost feeling the tally mark was burning his skin.

“Oh, I’m sorry dude,” he said after a long pause.

“I know but it’s not something you should apologize for,” he sighed, trying not to remember the events that occurred that morning.

“You can always come with me and Betty to the movies tonight, we can invite a few more people so you don’t feel like third wheel,” wanting to switch topics to hopefully cheer his friend up.

Peter knew that his friend was really trying to help but he really couldn’t think of leaving his apartment. He really needed to process the whole situation rather than distract himself from it, because he knew when he was alone, he would feel this low again. He looked down at his wrist seeing nothing but black tallies on his wrist, and let out a long sigh.

“Pete, you still there?” pulling him out from his thoughts.

“Yea just thinking about the offer,” even though he already knew that he had the answer.

“How about you think about it and let me know. I don’t want you to feel pressured,” always the supportive friend. “I would cancel on Betty but…“

“Thanks Ned,  don’t think Betty deserves that,” smiling knowing that Ned will always be his ride or die. “Think I’m a sit this one out,” his eyes still focused on his wrist.

“Offer will stands till seven, but if not, I’ll stop by tomorrow with food and can talk about it,” wanting Peter to know that he’ll be there through thick and thin.

“Yea tomorrow would be nice, I’ll text you if anything happens,” affirming that he wasn’t going out tonight, “have a great date Ned.”

“Thanks Pete. Hope to see you soon then,” he said.

Both said their goodbyes, leaving Peter  to let out a long groan of frustration. The palms of his hands pressed against his eyes hoping to keep the tears in that he kept in the whole day. Another black tally mark etched on his skin, great another failed attempted at love.

It was at times like these that wished he never learned about the tally marks, but it’s something unavoidable. He remembers days in which his Aunt May would sit down and talk to him about the tally marks that would one day appear across his wrist and tried to do her best to explain it.

“Alright Peter, so one when you find someone you really love, you’ll one day see a black tally appear right here,” pointing out her own single red tally on her wrist.

“But yours is red,” child Peter pointing out the obvious.

“I know, but if the person you love, loves you back, then it will turn red. Just like mine, yours can start off black, only depending who falls for who first. I can tell you first hand that mine showed up a month before your Aunt May’s did,” puling Peter’s attention from his aunt to his see his uncle setting down his stuff. Ben walked over to the two ruffling Peter’s hair to distract him from giving May a quick kiss.

“Hey it’s not my fault that you fell in love sooner than I did,” she joked.

“Uh, yea it is, you didn’t make it easy for me,” he smiled, “So what is this tally mark talk about?”

“Just curious,” Peter responded, “besides our teacher was going to go over it soon and wanted a head start.”

Peter smiled his tears gaining a bittersweet taste to them but figured that he may as well let out any tears at this moment. He looked at his wrist, nothing but black tallies and he would be lying to himself if he said that it didn’t hurt him. He really didn’t get the idea of what was so difficult about loving him, but then again, it’s not like he can force someone to love him. But still he just felt like a below the belt when he saw his now ex-girlfriend, if she even considered herself that, sport a red tally that clearly wasn’t his. Peter let out a loud sigh, thinking it was just to just scour his social media and start to unfollow her but couldn’t force himself to delete old pictures of themselves.

Just a few moments later and Peter heard a large crash outside his door. Peter quickly got up and walked over to the door hearing already someone cussing from the other end.

———————–

You didn’t know whether to be mad at the carpet lining the floor or yourself for thinking it was a good idea to carry more than you actually could  because you really took a dive just now.  You were glad that the boxes you decided to carry were filled with things that wouldn’t break, but you couldn’t help the burn on your cheeks from embarrassment and hope that no one saw your fall.

You started to stack a few things to try to somewhat organize things, and decided now was a good time as any to open your door. You decided to take a few things with you hoping to prevent anyone from seeing your mishap. By the time you went back to your stuff, someone was already organizing your fallen mess.

“Hey, sorry about the mess in front of your door, just give me a couple minutes and it’ll be totally clear,” walking over to said mess.

“it’s no worry at all,” seeing the stranger get up and face you.

Your heart jumped to your chest seeing the face that although you have forgotten about over time, you could never truly forget. “Peter?” knowing full well that there was no doubt about it.

“uh do I know you?” his face really confused because he really couldn’t place your face to a name.

“It’s been a while, but remember me from middle school,” trying not to act like you weren’t even more embarrassed then just a moment before.

You could visually see his mind thinking back to middle school, and finally put the pieces together, “(Y/N)! Oh god, I’m sorry I didn’t remember, trust me have a few things on my mind,” and although you haven’t seen peter in years, you figured he still was the same bashful boy you hadn’t seen in years.

“no worries, I mean what are the odds, that your old middle school friend moves down the hall much less spill most of her stuff in front of your door,” trying not to  make anything more uncomfortable.

“yea guess so,” already sensing things slowly ease, “So you took over the empty loft, I think I heard about someone filling that room,” quickly picking up a few boxes, “ how about I help you out.”

Judging by him carrying boxes you knew that he wouldn’t take no for an answer, “sure guess we can catch up, plus definitely need the extra set of hands,” you said.

You didn’t know what it was about Peter but he really had a way to become instant friends with just about anyone that he met. You really were glad that he still was the same as the Peter you left behind at the end of middle school. It was almost easy being with Peter that it almost made it seem like you guys hadn’t seen each other in years but can already tell that moving in here was a great choice. You found out that he was still friends with Ned and kept in touch with Michelle, which he was already mentioning that he couldn’t wait to tell the others.  you really were glad that he already wanted to plan things out with you.

You would be lying to yourself if you couldn’t deny that although you could recognize Peter, he really had matured into someone very attractive, especially by your standards. The once round cheeks chiseled out into strong edges, small chucky arms and hands became defined and strong by the easiness that he carried large boxes. however, some traits didn’t change at all, his doe brown eyes still had the same glee and his smile still captured the room, at least it did in your opinion. But now with this stance and physique, he really could capture the room.

“So, you moving in all by yourself?” Peter asked bringing in heavier objects. You

“ Yea, just me though if its gets too pricey may ask one of my friends to move in with me,” you replied already seeing that more than half of your stuff was already moved in thanks to Peter’s help, “pretty sure she will like the space as well.”

You looked over at Peter seeing that he was staring at his phone, his default cheery attitude replaced by a saddened look.

“Peter, you alright buddy?”.

“Uh yea, just some,” not knowing the right words to say, or better yet not know the right words that didn’t make him want to cry again.

“Girl trouble,” you finished, doubting someone like him couldn’t be with anyone or have someone he’s interest in.

“Um, something like that,” figured that he didn’t know how to phrase it.

“You don’t have to talk about it, I mean we technically just met,” not wanting to push his limits, because you figured that he would tell you just to be nice.

“It’s not that, I just don’t want one of our few first conversations to be about how my girlfriend got a red tally,”  the words sounding so sour, “my bad I think I don’t think she was my girlfriend to begin with.”

“Red tally, then isn’t that a good thing?” not really understanding the problem.

“Yeah her and whoever she’s interested in, but definitely not for me,” lifting the side of his wrist and showing his black tallies., “just figured she’d be the first you know,” he said melancholy as he shrugged his shoulders.

“Hey her loss and their loss too, because I can already tell you that you have already been one of my better random male encounters in a while,” trying to cheer him up, though you figured you were failing at it.

Peter let out a small chuckle, “very funny but think I’m going to head out. Ned’s meeting me tomorrow for food, you’re more than welcomed to come,” he said trying to switch to lighter topics, “I’ll knock, see if you’re free ok”

“yea, sounds like a plan and really thanks for the help couldn’t do it without you.”

Peter said a small goodbye and walked out leaving you to finally press your hand against your chest. Your heart was racing, you knew that of course spending time with someone attractive like Peter was going to make you react but it was more. You knew that although you were glad to have met up with peter, but you weren’t sure if it was such a good idea in the long run. You finally decided to look down on your wrist, your eyes locking on your first tally mark. Your fingers traced over the black tally, knowing full well that the person who this tally represents is none other than your new neighbor, Peter Parker.

——————————

End Author’s Note: So that was part 1, please let me know how it is. Still in debate if i should include peter being Spiderman, that is the other main opinion I would want, since I am really on the fence. Once again this is planned out to be a somewhat slowburn.