about.in which you find your lab partner in a strange place you’d never expect to find him in.
warnings.corny‼️
ricky rocks. short story 4 my best man because i didn’t want to think too hard into this
“you look like someone who could use some company.”
oh god, you sounded like a weirdo. or a hooker.
but despite that, he still looked and smiled at you, “look at you.” he almost grinned harder once he got a good look at you, taking notice that you weren’t exactly wearing the sweatshirt and sweatpants he always saw you in—but rather a very revealing top and a mini skirt. “didn’t take my lab partner for someone who liked to party.”
“i might say the same thing about you, parker,” you smiled back, taking a seat next to him on the ratty old frat couch he sat on. “when i thought of you getting your rocks off, i thought you’d be in an actual room with rocks.”
“wow, i’m offended,” he squinted at you putting a hand against his chest as if to cover his wounded heart, but he stilled smiled. “i would have hoped you thought higher of me, y/l/n.”
“i don’t intend on offending you, peter,” you smiled with amusement, “i just would have thought you were better than this.” you motioned and referenced to the frat house that you both currently sat in with all the buff dudes bumping their heads as they watched another identical guy chug a beer.
it made him scoff and his head slightly tipped, “but it’s normal for you to stoop this low?”
you shrugged, “we all have our moments of weakness… me more than anyone.”
“oh, so you’re saying this is a weekly occurrence for you?” he quirked an eyebrow, really wanting to know the answer.
and you almost didn’t want to answer, cringing as your head slightly fell sideways in shame, “maybe.”
“oh, on,” he shook his head, “cheap beer? men who don’t know basic hygiene and are probably failing their math 1 class? that’s your type, isn’t it? that’s why you come here, to get some play from boys with pedophile staches and low iqs?”
you laughed maybe a little too loudly, quickly slapping your hand over your mouth as you stared at peter who’s brow arched higher, but still he smiled, loving every moment of your presences.
“i don’t stoop that low.”
“oh, good. we still have time to save you,” he sat up now, clasping your elbow and scooting closer to you, “i almost thought i’d have no chance with you.”
“really?” your cheeks burned and you almost felt shameful for leaning closer to him as his voice was now a whisper and comforting and warm and ready to swallow you whole.
“yeah,” he nodded his head, “compared to those big burley guys who live off pre-workout, i’m nothing.”
you giggled again, feeling woozy and even more drunk with his amusement that was just feeding you to the brim with bliss. it felt out of body, it didn’t feel real, but it was and you felt like a fool falling so fast for someone you barely knew.
“they got nothing on you, peter parker.”
**
you were completely lost with time, but all you knew was he was a really good kisser and that’s all that mattered right then and there as the two of you stumbled into your dorm room where you were soon consumed in pitch black. neither of you could find care for it as you still clung to him feverishly, kissing him with all you could as if on a timer.
you couldn’t help but laugh once his mouth pulled from yours and started pressing kissed against your neck while the two of you still absent mindedly attempted to find your bed. you tried your best to guide but failed—causing the both of you to trip over your own feet and fall to the ground.
you giggled through the pain as you were now squished beneath peter’s body. he groaned, laughing a little himself but he still winced, pushing himself off and to the side of you, “well, we tried.”
“we did.” you smiled, not finding the attempt a complete failure due to now being a lot more familiar with your lab partner.
“i’d say i was hoping things would go a lot more smoother but…” he traveled off, now looking to the side of your face, “i’m not completely disappointed.”
Could I Find Homeland In You? (Peter Parker One Shot)
Summary: based on the following nonnie’s lovely prompt - Can you do a TASM!Peter x fem!reader prompt where they are childhood besties but Peter kinda starts crushing on Gwen but then after he approaches her she turns him down and the reader comforts him until he finally realizes he loves her? Kinda gets angsty when Peter tells her about Gwen bc she has also had feelings for him since forever but refuses to acknowledge them. Best friends to lovers kinda trope… loads of fluff?
hope you enjoy this my sweet nonnie <3
Pairings: TASM!Peter Parker x Reader
Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, italicised words between dividers are past moments between peter and the reader. This is non canon compliant. Peter, Reader and Gwen are in university.
Don’t look at them, don’t look at them. You chant to yourself, but your eyes do fixate, on his warm grin, bright brown eyes full of mirth. Then you gaze at the person making him laugh, Gwen.
Your heart sinks, you look back down at your notebook, ideas messily strewn across the pages. Lines crossed by ink but not you.
It isn’t that you dislike her, she is a really great person, you admire her work and she is always sweet to you.
It’s just Peter parker is completely taken by her, he hasn’t told you, his childhood best friend yet about how he feels but you can see it as clear as day. Peter blushing when he speaks to Gwen or about her, longingly looking at her when she walks past the two of you.
He doesn’t need to tell you what you already know.
You just wish he would look at you that way.
Because you look at him that way but he never finds your eyes.
“Do you want to continue this later? I’m kind of tired.” You ask the remaining members of the chemistry group project, your mood souring as Peter shifts closer to Gwen, reading the contents on her laptop over her shoulder. her temple resting against his jaw.
Your mind flashes to last week when the two of you were watching the latest episode of Dynasty, that was how you both were, cuddled up the laptop resting on the makeshift pillow stand.
You shake out of the memory looking at your group,
“Yeah.” They agree, you grab your scarce materials, shuffling out the door of the open area, it reverberates a clang upon shutting.
Peter looks up after a while, from the yearbook spread on Gwen’s screen, eyes scanning the area. His eyebrows furrow noticing your absence.
Summary: Peter brings a lab coat home one day. It gives you an idea. How could you pass up a chance to drive him wild?
Warnings: afab!reader, oral (fem receiving), lots of bad chemistry puns, penetrative unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), did I say bad chemistry puns already? This went from smut to fluff to humor at the end.
“Welcome home Mr. Parker,” You said upon your fiancé entering the apartment you and him shared. He put down his bag (full of papers) and gave you that small, forced smile that instantly told you it had been a long day.
“Long Friday?” You asked, taking your attention away from the stove.
“Oh you know, the usual. Did you know you can say to your students “this material is corrosive; it will burn through fabric’ ten times and they’re still shocked when it burns a hole through their lab coat?” He held up the lab coat, which had a small but noticeable hole in it.
“I’m sorry babe.“
“It’ll be an easy fix. Besides, I should start washing these regularly. I forgot how bad teenage B.O. is,” He said, throwing it over the chair. He walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.
“Whatcha making sunshine?” He asked, his breath hot on your neck.
“Just some salmon cakes.” This was your routine- Peter would come home and wrap his arms around you, whether you were watching TV or cooking dinner.
“I missed you,” He murmured into your neck.
“I missed you too my love,” You said, flipping the salmon cakes so one side wasn’t burned.
Your eyes darted to the table, landing on the lab coat.
An idea popped into your head.
A different idea. A spicy idea. An idea that made you inadvertently squeeze your thighs together.
Noticing Peter’s outburst at school shortly after the death of his Uncle Ben, you decide to introduce him to the local boxing gym.
When you saw Peter Parker’s head resting on his locker, his signature goofy smile muted, you knew something was wrong. The brightest geek in the class was usually a ray of sunshine; today, it looked like his light had been sucked into a black hole. You resisted the urge to reach out to him, having heard the grave news of his Uncle Ben dying in his arms. When you lost someone close to you, you didn’t care about the well wishes or sympathetic looks. All you wanted was your loved one back. So you held back, watching his pain from afar.
You were collecting your books from your locker as the halls fell silent. A crash of a body hitting the metal. Spinning around you saw Flash pressed against the locker, Peter’s hands tightly holding him there. You didn’t need to see his face to see the empty fury lurking in his features.
Feeling as if you were intruding on something, you turned away. The crowd dissipated as quickly as it had formed. Peter eventually released his grip on Flash, him scurrying away as quickly as he could.
It was clear Peter was in pain. You felt that pain before. You barely spoke to the boy but you felt the tie of grief bind you together. An urge to help him took over your body. Turning on your heel you went back to your locker, snatching a flyer. Before you could think too much about it you slipped it between the slats of Peter’s locker.
~
You didn’t see him that night, or the next. Each time you kept an eye on the door, waiting anxiously for him to step onto the premises. Weeks passed and eventually, you stopped checking.
Brett clapped you on the shoulder. “Y/N! Can you show the rookie around? I’ve got a class in ten.”
“Sure,” you didn’t even look up from the computer, too busy deciding on what playlist would bounce through the walls of the gym.
Someone cleared their throat. You looked up, nearly falling out of your chair. It was Peter.
A bright smile lit up your face. “Sorry about that, in my own world.”
“It’s okay.” He seemed better than that day in the hall; not by much.
You randomly selected a playlist, shuffling out of the seat and moving to show him the rest of the gym. “Have you ever boxed before?”
“I… This isn’t normally my kind of thing.”
“You’d be surprised, a lot of people tend to think that. Next thing you know, they’re hooked.” You paused. “Sorry, that was a bad boxing pun, even I’m ashamed.”
Peter stared at you with a blank face.
“You know, hooked like a right hook? Nevermind.”
Clearing your throat, a niggle of doubt set in at the back of your mind. Why did you slip him the flyer? There was no point dwelling on it now, he was here and he was clearly interested, his eyes raking the large space with intrigue.
You pointed to the treadmills lining one wall. “That’s your treadmills, good for keeping up cardio. Hop on and I’ll show you how it works.”
“I’m more interested in the,” Peter cleared his throat, almost as if he was embarrassed to admit it out loud. “Hitting part.”
“You’d be shocked how tiring boxing can be. You need a good level of fitness, but” you shrugged, turning your back to the treadmills. “On your head be it. If you go running to Brett because you flew off the treadmill let him know I warned you.”
You swore you could see the ghost of a smile on his lips. “I’ll do that.”
“Over here are the bags. Please, for the love of god, make sure you have wrapped your hands correctly and wear gloves.” You grabbed some hand wrappings from the side. You showed him how to wind the wrappings correctly around the hand to ensure maximum protection. “You can just use the gloves or the wrapping on their own, but it’s just safer this way.”
Peter nodded. You unwound the wrappings from your hand, placing it securely on the side before moving towards the large boxing ring in the middle of the gym. Grabbing a hold of the rope surrounding the ring, you leaned your weight into it.
“This is the ring. We do a lot of our one on one training sessions there.”
“What are they like?”
“Brutal.” You huffed a laugh. “They cost extra, but if you have a problem paying, speak to Brett. He’s pretty good about that kind of thing.”
Peter’s eyes fell to the floor. Any enthusiasm you had seen from him earlier had evaporated, his posture deflating like a balloon. “I don’t exactly have a lot of money.”
You smiled, gesturing to the people dotted around the gym. “Do you think they do? Most of us do things to help him out instead. I run the front desk after school, Stacey manages the socials and Jackson cleans the gym after hours.”
“That’s really nice of him.” Peter perked up a bit, lifting his eyes from the floor.
“He’s a good guy.” A beat of silence passed, then two. “Or if you wanted, you could train with me.”
You wanted to draw the words back into your mouth; it was too late. Peter’s face lit up, and his lips moved to the closest thing resembling a smile. “Really?”
“Uh, I’m nowhere near as good as Brett, but maybe I could help you start off.”
“I’d really like that.” Peter shook his head vigorously. “Good, cool, that’s amazing, thank you.”
“Great, I’ll add you to the group chat. It just has some updates on the gym, that kind of thing.” Peter’s phone binged. He looked at the screen, a notification having popped up.
Peter P has been added to Brett’s Boxing Bitches.
“Brett’s Boxing Bitches?”
“Don’t tell Brett.”
~
It had been a few weeks since you’d offered to train Peter. You were half convinced he was trying to kill you. Initially you started on two sessions a week, next thing you knew, he wanted to practice every day after school. Your body was aching constantly but you didn’t care, it was all worth it to see the grief slowly ebb away from his face.
His stance was slowly improving. When starting boxing it can be a lot to take in, with the footwork, defence and attack all happening at once, but after a few sessions he was taking it into his stride. He was a quick learner.
“Okay,” you heaved a breath, wiping the sweat from your forehead. Your hands were securely in a pad on each hand, creases from where Peter’s punches landed appearing on the material. “Just make sure when you’re tired you don’t wind your punches back. The power comes from your arm, not from pulling it backwards.”
“Like this?” Peter demonstrated jabbing his arm out straight in front of him. You nodded.
“Much better. Winding back the punch can leave you exposed and you want to stay standing for as much of the fight as possible.” Peter shook his head up and down. “Are you ready for another go or do you want a break?”
“Let’s go one more time.”
“Okay, let’s just keep to the jabbing for now. Ready?”
Peter nodded, raising his gloved hands in the defence position by his jaw. His arm stretched out, hitting the pad. Your arm nearly came out of socket as he ploughed into the pad.
Slightly out of breath, you lowered the pads, smiling at him. “Great job.”
He hadn’t seemed to have noticed the lowered pads. One minute, you were standing upright, and the next second, you were staggering backwards. Agony exploded in your nose and wetness started to slip past your lips.
Peter instantly rushed to your aid, ripping the gloves off and waving a hand in front of your face. “Shit, are you okay?”
With a bright grin, you smiled up at him. “That was perfect!”
“Excuse me?” Peter’s brow quipped. He looked at you as you were slightly swaying on your feet, blood gushing from your nose. Despite the red flooding your chin you had a wide grin on your face.
“Your form was perfect!”
“Uh, thank you?”
“I’m pretty sure you broke my nose but it’s worth it.”
“Y/N I’m so sorry.”
“I’m proud of you!”
“We need to get you cleaned up.”
“Meh, I’ve had worse happen. Let’s try again.”
“Y/N!”
“Fine. I could have gone for another round but whatever.” You ducked out of the ring with Peter’s assistance, grabbing the first aid kit. He instructed you to sit down, which you did with a reluctant huff.
He pulled out the alcoholic wipes, ripping open the packaging.
“You have to admit, you’re a little bit proud.”
“I hurt you.” Peter began wiping the blood away from your face, the wipe coming back a bright red. A rush of pride soared through you at the sight - it was a sign he was improving.
“It was my fault, I lowered the pads.” You paused a teasing smirk appearing on your face. “Just remind me to wear a helmet next time.”
“You’re a pain in the ass.”
“And you’re a pain in my nose!” He stared at you blankly. “Too soon?”
His lips curled up at the sides.
“It’s nice when you smile, you should do it more often.”
“I’ve not had much to smile about these days.”
The pair of you fell silent. You could tell Peter was thinking about his uncle, just in the same way you were thinking about the loved one you had lost. It was strange the way grief can never lose its hold over you - it would never disappear, only weaken to the point where memories don’t feel like ripping open old wounds.
It hit you suddenly that you wanted Peter to know that it got better. Without realising it, you started to tell him about what happened to you. “Did I ever tell you that when I started here, I was in the exact same position as you? I was angry, getting into fights, drinking, smoking weed, one time I even got arrested.”
Peter froze, alcohol wipe dangling in his hand. “What changed?”
“Boxing. It was the perfect place to vent out my aggression. I miss them all the time, but now I know how to handle my grief.”
“By hitting a boxing bag?”
“Better than hitting a person.” You coughed. “Well, at least hitting someone out of the blue. You will punch someone every now and then but it comes with the sport.”
Peter nodded. You could sense his understanding. You watched as he pieced the pieces of the puzzle together, turning to you with a slack jaw. “You were the one who put the flyer in my locker.”
“Guilty.”
“Why?”
“Because I was like you. And I wanted to help.” Peter wiped the blood from your face, disposing of the wipes. He seemed to be lighter than he was that day in the hallway, making your heart swell. “He’d be proud of you.”
“Thank you…” he averted his gaze. He swallowed thickly. At that point you expected the conversation to be finished.
He looked up at you, a slight curl to his lips. “You broke the one rule of fight club.”
“Eh?”
“Don’t talk about fight club.”
A beat passed. A small laugh crept out of your mouth, and you hit him playfully. “You’re a nerd.”
it’s not common that you get to have nights in with peter, y’know, with all the spider-man stuff. because of that, your nights in are usually jam-packed to make up for it. you two would do things ranging from spa nights with face masks, hair masks and manicures to game nights (he always wins twister).
other times you’re both too tired and want to revel in the domesticity of this sacred time together. so, here you two were, heads on opposite ends of the bed - yours against the headboard and his propped up on a pillow near your feet - reading in silence. the room was quiet minus the sounds of your breathing, the flicker of the candle next to the soft lamp that illuminated your room, and occasionally the honk from the streets of new york just outside your window.
you were so relaxed and full of love, stealing glances at peter every once in a while. sometimes he’d be deep into the words on the page, eyebrows furrowed, eyelids hooded, lips parted. you wanted to crawl over and kiss him so badly. other times, when you’d glance at him, he was already looking at you with a sleepy, dopey smile on his face. you always blushed and looked away.
meanwhile, peter was enamored. honestly, he hadn’t read more than 3 sentences in his book that entire time because your presence was just more stimulating. you were doing barely anything - sighing, turning your page, laughing at a funny line - and he just wanted to pounce. he wanted to kiss and hug you so tightly it hurt him. made his skin burn. he loved your focused face. he couldn’t help himself to reach out and rub your ankle every once in a while; you were just so alluring. so, he waited patiently there, soaking in your entire being as he waited for you to finish your book and pay attention to him.
when you sniffled, his head shot up, he propped himself up on his elbows and surveyed your emotions. he could hear your heart beating.
“what’s wrong?” he questioned immediately.
you shook your head, lip pouting. “nothin’, this book is getting so sad, peter.”
his stomach flipped when you said his name. “well, maybe we’re done for the day, yeah?” he offered, reaching over for the book.
“no!” you exclaimed, scaring you both. your eyes widened before you both began chuckling. “sorry, sorry. i’m almost done, i need to know what happens, p”
he nodded his head, he adored you. he wondered for a moment if he should start writing books just to see you like this, so entranced and happy. just for you. “my sweet girl” he hummed, leaning over for a kiss before laying down on his pillow again. he opened his book but kept his attention on listening to your heart beat.
after a while, you finished your book and sighed contentedly, closing it. you looked at the front and back for a while before scooching over to peter. his book was closed in seconds. you leaned over him, admiring his face and smile. you felt lovely and warm.
you ran your hand against his cheek, enjoying the feeling of his stubble. you kissed him, slowly and softly.
you pulled back, continuing to just feel him. his hair, his stubble. you ran your finger down his nose and across his smiling lips. across his eyelids and long soft eyelashes.
you loved him.
“how was your book?” he hummed.
you jumped a bit in excitement “you wanna hear about it?” you asked, almost in disbelief.
he nodded his head, “everything, all of it; i want to feel like i read it”
your eyes lit up with excitement, “okay, but i’m literally gonna tell you the entire plot, peter. i’ll have to tell you everything”
he only raised his eyebrows, as if to say ‘go ahead’ and you began your excited rambling.
god, he loved you so much. his chest hurt as you described the characters in detail, telling him which one was your favorite. he loved watching you flip back through the book to read him some particularly touching lines or give him a back story to a joke that made you laugh. his heart lurched when you ran out of breath, or back tracked because you forgot something, or when you leaned down to kiss him while talking about a sweet moment in the book. his hand rested on your waist when you shyly blinked back tears recounting the emotional events, giving it a squeeze or two while you pushed through the feelings.
“don’t fall asleep, pete!” you exclaimed when he closed his eyes for a moment.
he laughed, “i’m not, i’m not! just visualizing it all!”
“you are not! you’re sleeping!” you accused, laughing exasperatedly.
“i promise im not - i just want to see it” he said, closing his eyes as you continued recounting the novel while you lightly traced his features.
he continued to listen, asking questions about that one character or a plot point you seemed to have forgotten. when you finished, he looked up at you, smiling, always smiling.
“i loved it” he beamed.
“really?” you beamed back.
“yeah, i think i’ll have to read it myself. after i finish this one” he said, grabbing his own book.
you hummed, crawling on top of him. you laid your body right on top of his, chest to chest.
“what’s yours about?” you asked, settled into him.
“okay, i’m not done yet but - don’t fall asleep!“ he said, pinching your butt for a moment before delving into his own read.
you were warm against him. he was so happy, so content. he went through his book, stuttering over his words every so often when he thought about you and how much he loved you.
summary: peter stumbles into reader’s apartment with an emergency
it’s not that you were used to the huge thumping of peter’s body against your window or the sudden knocking in the middle of the night - you just expected it. the sudden noises still startled you but not for long since you always raised your head to the window to see your best friend’s bashful (sometimes bloody) face or spider-man’s mask.
so now, you let the huge thump make you jump in your seat at your desk. before you could even raise from your seat he began knocking incessantly, making you roll your eyes (it was the middle of the night for christ’s sake!).
you still rushed over to the window to see peter pulling at his tight spandex suit and frantically gripping his body. his voice was muffled from the glass but you could tell he was screaming.
“oh my god what the fuck peter?” you scream back, letting him into your apartment.
“it burns it fucking burns y/n please help me! fuck! holy shit! help help” he begs, still pulling at his suit while squirming around the room.
you pull his mask off of his head to see his scared face and red eyes. “peter, what burns?! what’s going on?!?”
he screams again before leaving your room and heading into your bathroom, screaming the whole way there. you trail behind and enter the bathroom to see him standing in the shower under the running water, ripping the suit off of his body. “oh my god oh my god y/n please help me i’m fucking begging you!”
your heart is racing - you’re extremely scared now but you jump into the shower anyways, letting the water soak you in your pajamas. you pull the suit from his body, revealing his very toned torso. you try not to blush or look shocked as you continue to frantically pull it away from his body. he pants the entire time, squirming and scratching at his very red skin.
“oh god this is fucking terrible - does this water get any colder please y/n”
he’s standing under the water, clad in just a very tight and very thin pair of underwear that leaves almost nothing to the imagination.
your jaw drops and your face flushes, but peter’s still jumping around. you try hard not to get distracted. you put the water on the coldest temperature and guide your hands across his torso, trying to soothe whatever burning was happening. his screaming has turned to incoherent mumbling and he even lets out a long groan - the cold water was clearly helping.
he’s breathing heavily, guiding his own hands across his body as his head tilts back. “i - i don’t know what happened. i don’t know what it was. i - i was just fighting some bad guys and then one of them throws some fucking chemical at me and i go blind for a second. then i’m rushing here trying not to let my skin burn off.”
you nod your head, still not understanding completely what could have caused this. you grab your bar of soap, letting it gently glide across his body. it soothes him greatly, making him let out another groan, this one long and breathy.
“oh my god. that’s so good - that feels so good” he whispers, eyes still closed.
you’re blushing furiously now, letting your head hang as you just focus on the task at hand.
“your skin is getting less red” you note.
“oh my god, thank you so much. i’m so sorry y/n, i really didn’t know what to do. it hurt so bad - i was so scared” he admits, letting a hand rest on your shoulder.
you look up at him and he’s already looking down at you, hair soaked and lips parted.
“you’re all wet” he says, eyes scanning your body before a hint of that dopey smile spreads across his lips.
you let out a light chuckle, “yeah, didn’t have much of a choice. you were really freaking out pete”
he grabs the soap from your hand. “ ‘msorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” his other hand lightly grazes your cheek. “alright, i feel way better. get outta here and go dry up, please”
you laugh, nodding your head before ringing your clothes out as much as you can before stepping out. you stand on the other side of the shower curtain now, pulling the clothes away from your body and wrapping yourself in a towel.
his head pops out, “oh, uh t-thank you. so much. i seriously can’t live without you.”
you nod your head at him with a smile before exiting the bathroom, cheeks burning.
when he emerges from the shower, he feels so much better, relishing in the feeling of his skin being basically back to normal. he looks at the bathroom counter to see a shirt and sweatpants folded neatly for him. both are his from one of the various times he’s stayed over. he smiles, chest fluttering with his love and appreciation for you as he gets dressed.
he leaves the shirt there, however, wanting to still air out the part of his body that he scratched the most.
he walks back to your room where you’re standing in front of your mirror and drying your hair. you make eye contact with him in the mirror while he approaches you. he leans forward, leaving a long kiss on the top of your head.
“thank you, love you” he mumbles against your head before retreating to flop onto the bed. the bed is basically both of yours with how much he’s stayed the night.
you finish up and approach him, giving him a joking slap on the butt.
he jumps with a shriek.
“oh my god! i’m so sorry peter! does it burn?!” you screech with terror.
he looks at you and laughs, shaking his head before “no, it’s fine, i just hate it when you do that”
you laugh with relief before pulling back the neat bed covers and trying hard to yank them out from under him.
“cmon spider boy - get up and get in bed” you huff.
he obliges immediately and crawls up the bed and under the cool, silk covers. he nearly moans.
you two settle in with your bodies facing each other. the room is mostly dark except for a far away street lamp outside but it’s entirely peaceful.
you relish in how calm peter looks as he looks at you; you’re so glad he’s okay.
“thank you for helping me.” he whispers, finger coming up to trace your nose.
your hand comes up to do the same to his, making him smile. “anytime” you whisper back.
he sighs and scooches forward to leave a kiss on your forehead before wrapping his arms around your body so you can lay against him, your head against his chest.
it burns a bit - he’s still sensitive - but he doesn’t care one bit. he’s glad you’re resting.
your breathing becomes slower and slower as you finally fall asleep - then he follows.
Y/N gets incorporated, episode by episode, into Teen Wolf.
Friends to Lovers type beat.
Y/N and Scott McCall have known each other since birth, being as their families were close friends. They did everything together, including meeting and befriending Stiles Stilinski. Y/N only ever knew him as Scott’s good friend. But suddenly, sophomore year changes everything. She now has to juggle everything from newly-found popularity to exposure to the supernatural world and a new romance that she’s been wishing for since she was a child.
Peter comes back to his universe after helping his other selves defeat the MCU’s newest threats only to be greeted with another enemy. In the depths of his despair, he unexpectedly finds a woman who offers to patch him up from the nasty battle he previously fought. Wondering why he felt so magnetically drawn to her, she later reveals an old nickname; MJ.
SUMMARY:Peter wholeheartedly regrets not coming back to Y/N’s apartment and tries his best to stay away for her sake. She continues to think of him as her career begins to take off. Spiderman sees her during a battle and has to make a deal for her safety.
Peter laid on his bed, staring mindlessly at the noisy fan that clicked away above him as he tried to fall asleep. He’d probably watched it spin around hundreds or thousands of times every night, trying to rid his mind of her. She lingered in his every waking thought and visited during his dreams.
“Jesus Christ,” He whispered, rubbing his hands on his face in aggravation. “Okay, stupid multiverse-god-thing. Very funny. She’s the one, I get it! Just let me sleep..”
He found himself thinking of her eyes and the way they darted around aimlessly as she talked as if they were following her train of thought. He thought about her voice and the way it got raspy as the night progressed and her drowsiness with it. He accidentally caused a small explosion at the lab earlier in the day because his mind was on her. Her plump lips; the way they moved when she spoke or, god, when she smiled.
He flipped onto his stomach and groaned into his pillow with frustration.
He wanted nothing more than to wait for her to return to the apartment and take him to her favorite diner in the city on that day. He felt his heart sink when he felt the familiar tingle, knowing he’d have to leave her stranded to chase after his newest enemy. He didn’t have time to leave a note. He had a responsibility to protect the innocent; it normally came with the cost of hurting or losing someone he loved. As much as he hated to admit it, as bad as he wanted her, he needed to stay away.
Butboy did he want her. His mind wouldn’t let him simply forget about the destiny written by the fates; the story of Spiderman and MJ, an inevitable romance that spanned through multiple universes, his being no exception. He wanted her to take him to the diner. He wanted to walk her home and kiss her sweetly before making plans for a second date. He wanted to fall for her. At times, he wanted to ignore his power and abandon his responsibility all in hopes of living a domestic and happy life with this woman.
But alas, the world didn’t stop turning for him; not in his darkest times, much less in the hopeful ones. Duty called. The Collector continued to wreak havoc on the city of New York, and Peter had no other option but to fight. Yet, he couldn’t help but wonder how she reacted when she arrived home.
Little did he know that after her meeting, she’d gone through the effort of ordering two of her usual coffee for the man who had painted the everlasting, smitten grin on her lips. She had gone through her day with a coy smile, anticipating and craving his presence. She rushed home, opening her apartment door to be greeted by a soul-shattering silence.
No number, no address, no way to contact the perfect man she had woken up next to only a few hours prior. She’d searched every room, hoping the sinking feeling in her stomach would be replaced by the warm one she’d felt that same morning but there was nothing but her usual empty and silent apartment. Her smile faded and eyes blurred, left with no other option but to drink both coffees and move on with the day.
It had been almost two weeks now since their interaction. He’d seen her at the scenes of The Collector’s attacks, observing Spider-man’s every move and defending him mercilessly in her New York Times column; The Daily Herald. He’d make it a point to pick it up every morning on his way to work and read it on the train ride. Her words were piercing and revolutionary, changing the minds of thousands of citizens a day. It seemed that as time carried on, Peter noticed more and more pedestrians reading and talking about her articles.
He sighed, looking at the clock. Sleep now weighed heavily on his lids as his thoughts slowed to a single image; her. Y/N was engraved into his mind; he saw her vividly every time his eyes fluttered shut. And with that, he slowly drifted into a restless slumber, unaware that she laid under the same sky with the same striking memory replaying on a loop in her own mind.
———
The city had been quieter than usual; everyone hid away in the safety of their own home in fear of being caught in The Collector’s terrorizing paralysis. Tourists mostly steered clear of New York, and those who had the privilege of working from home rarely dared to leave their apartments. The attacks were more frequent and deadly. declining in morality at the villain’s mind declined in its strange illness.
Y/N mindlessly stared at the pedestrians who rushed past the cafe window. She was meant to be writing the next day’s article. Though it was a seemingly impossible task with the endless daydreams and memories of the night spent with a perfect stranger. She’d never quite managed to rid her mind of him completely.
She rarely remembered her dreams yet couldn’t seem to forget the one she woke from that same morning. His warm brown eyes, his soft chuckle, the tint of his blushing cheeks, the shape of his lips, the way he said her name- it was all the same.
The beginnings of rain snapped her out of her thoughts. She smiled as it began to sprinkle the fast-paced crowd outside, watching as some children held their arms up and stuck their tongues out before being ushered off by their parents. For a split second, it felt like the same city again; bustling with life and noise. It felt like home again.
The moment was interrupted by a loud crash, and suddenly the sweet scene from just seconds before melted into disarray. The same kids she watched happily embrace the rain were now being pulled into buildings by their mothers. A crowd of people ran down the street in blind chaos, screaming so loud that the windows rattled.
“‘Scuse me! Comin’ through!” She heard someone yell before seeing the familiar red vigilante sprint past the window. He shot a web and launched himself forward, sending him out of sight.
The Collector, she thought as she closed her laptop and quickly stuffed it in her bag before running outside. She only caught a small glimpse of the battle before it moved out of sight, it seemed that the enemy kept developing new weapons; this time it was a motorcycle that sped effortlessly between crowds and buildings. She followed the screams and ran against the swarm of panicked pedestrians, paying little mind to the mayhem.
She kept seeing glimpses of red turn corners, missing the majority of the action. She sprinted at full speed at this point, knowing damn well the danger she was putting herself in but putting the thought aside for the opportunity to write about a first-hand Spiderman experience. The adrenaline kept her legs moving and thoughts silenced for a few more minutes before she finally slowed down.
She turned another corner, only to see a frozen congregation of people that looked like something from a River Styx painting. She stopped in her tracks, backing behind a wall before deciding on whether or not to proceed. Then she saw it; Spiderman holding the watch in his hand as The Collector yanked at the makeshift web cuffs on his wrists to no avail. The motorcycle was dangling to the building above.
“Oh, my sweet boy,” The older man chuckled, shooting his foe a bone-chilling grin. “This would’ve all been over by now if you killed me when you had the chance.”
“It could’ve been prevented if you would’ve just listened to me,” Spiderman spoke up, breathing heavily with anger and despair. “The cure wasn’t worth the madness. The old you would’ve preferred death over the man you’ve become.”
“Kill me,“ He purred, smiling like the Cheshire cat. “Or I will personally see to your loved ones’ deaths. Starting with that old-“
A web suddenly covered his mouth. The Collector’s eyes widened before he squirmed around and screamed.
“What was that? Starting with who?” Spiderman asked, stepping closer to his muffled words and cupping his ear. “Just a little louder, man. I can’t quite understand you.”
He fumbled a bit with the watch for a moment as the wailing sirens grew closer. The silence burst into screams and the sounds of a stampede, civilians running every which way. Y/N could no longer hear the conversation but watched as Spiderman walked up to the man and whispered something in his ear, causing The Collector to fall still. She dared to step out from behind the wall, trying to hear what was being said.
It was no use trying to run against the roaring crowd. She felt people slam into her and shove her out of the way as she attempted to approach her targets. The sirens grew deafening as she halted to a stop, giving up any chance of getting close before the cops ushered her away.
The masked man looked to his left to see the cop cars begin to swarm in. That’s when he saw her. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of the woman standing amid the paranoid mob that ran against her. He dared not look for too long, not wanting to give any hint of recognition.
“Well, that’s my cue,” Spiderman nodded toward the cops before shooting a web up towards a nearby skyscraper. “I meant what I said. Behave.”
“Wait!” Y/N stepped forward only to see him fly into the sky once again. “I-.. And you’re gone. Great.”
“Out of the way!” The cops called as they shoved people away from the man in web constraints.
“How many times have we told you that you can’t be at these scenes, Y/L/N?” A familiar cop barked, grabbing at her shoulders to pull her away. She turned to see that it was the chief of police, an old friend of her father’s. “It’s dangerous. You can get a quote later.”
“Chief Johnson, it’s part of-“
“Your job, yeah, yeah, I’ve heard your spiel before. It’s my job to clear the premises so get the fuck out of here!” He rolled his eyes, shoving her towards the cop cars. She looked back at The Collector as a cop recited his rights and cuffed him. “MJ! Go!”
“Fine! I’m gone,” She held up her hands defensively before turning on her heels. “Damn, who pissed in your fucking cereal this morning?”
“Don’t you have something better to write about?” He called after her. She stopped in her tracks. “He’s a menace to society!”
“He hasn’t killed anyone so what does that make you?” She asked, shrugging with her hands before turning to leave.
Y/N rolled her eyes as she turned the corner. She hated cops, but specifically the ones on Johnson’s crew. He used to be someone she was fond of until she found out about all of the injustice and corruption that he and his coworkers partook in.
“Fucking pig.”
———
After returning to the cafe, Y/N spent the next few hours writing and perfecting the article, making sure to explain the events that unfolded only hours before. She lost track of time, only leaving when the barista informed her that they’d be closing soon.
The streets were bustling with people celebrating the newfound freedom that came from The Collector’s imprisonment. She smiled at the lively crowds that gathered in the East Village, giggling at the people who decided to sport Spiderman masks. New York City was restored to its buoyant state.
She took the usual train home and walked a few blocks towards her apartment, opting to take a shortcut through the same alley she’d found Peter in.
The city’s sounds were muffled in the dark space; it was instead filled with the echo of her footsteps bouncing off of the dirty walls and rusty trash cans. She walked for a few minutes before realizing that she heard a second pair of footsteps behind hers. Taking a quick glance over her shoulder, she noticed the silhouette of a familiar skintight bodysuit.
“You’re that Daily Herald journalist,” The voice from earlier spoke. “Y/L/N, right?”
“Depends,” She adjusted her backpack as she turned to face him. “Who’s asking?”
She heard a breathy chuckle before he walked into the light, showing off his brilliant red suit.
“Just figured I’d say thank you. Before your column, most people saw me as a threat. But tonight.. I’ve never seen so many-”
“Fans?” She suggested.
“Well, I was going to say Spidermen in one place,” He chuckled once more. “But I like the sound of fans a lot better.”
She smiled. “Well, it’s no problem. I’m just writing the truth. It’s part of the job.”
“Is it part of the job to follow me around too?” He questioned.
“Oh, that? No, that’s just for fun,” She deadpanned before laughing. The man chuckled. “So did you really go through the trouble of finding out where I live just to thank me and ask if I was following you around?”
“Actually no. My main purpose of coming out here was to tell you to be careful,” He continued, making her furrow her brows. “Look, I don’t want you getting hurt on my behalf. Stop following me, alright?”
“And lose my job? Pass. But I appreciate the concern,” She turned to leave before a web blocked her path.
“I’m serious. Just-.. Be more careful. There have been lesser-known journalists that have died for less. If I see you in the middle of a fight again, I’ll have to web you to a wall or something,” He said sternly, making her smile.
“Web me to a wall?! No, please, Spiderman! I promise to stop following you around!” She cried out sarcastically. “How was that?”
“How was the acting or comedic presentation?”
“Both.”
“It was god awful,” He answered nonchalantly, making her chuckle. “What do I have to do to get you to stop following me?”
“Meet me here every night and tell me about your battles.”
“No way,” He protested. “Do you have any idea how much danger I put you in just by visiting tonight?”
She narrowed her eyes in thought before pulling her backpack off of her shoulder and taking out a small business card.
“Email me then,” She said, holding out the card. He looked down at her hand. “I can’t afford to lose this job. So it’s either this or I keep following you around.”
“You want me to report back to you after every battle?” He grumbled, looking back at her. She raised her brows, waving the card. He hesitantly took it. “Even the nightly patrols?”
“You do nightly patrols?” Her eyes widened. “I didn’t know that. But, yeah, that’d be ideal. If you can’t get around to it though, I’d settle for a weekly update.”
“Okay, deal,” He said after a brief moment of consideration. “You sure it won’t cause any tension between you and a boyfriend?”
“I’m sure he won’t mind, considering he’s nonexistent,” She smiled again before shrugging, choosing to ignore the inquisitive, flirtatious tone. “Currently too busy being caught up on someone I met once to fall for somebody new.”
Peter felt his breath hitch in his throat at the confession. She was talking about him. Not only that, but she rejected what she thought was another man because she liked him. He felt a hot blush graze his cheeks, grateful for the opportunity to be able to hide behind a mask as he heard that, and simply nodded.
“But I should probably get inside to finish up tomorrow’s story,” She continued. “If you could email me at least every Thursday so I have the weekend to work on an article, that’d be great.”
“Will do,” He said, not quite being able to wipe the smile off of his masked face as he watched her sling her backpack on again.
“Nice to finally meet you, Spidey,” She said before walking off, turning back to flash him that heart-melting smile before disappearing behind the corner. “I expect to hear about today’s fight!”
———
Peter smiled as he read the morning paper, reading a direct quote from the email he’d sent the previous night. He had to go to four different places to finally get The Times; the entirety of New York seemed to be carrying around, reading or talking about The Daily Herald.
“Hey, man,” His favorite coworker greeted as he walked into the laboratory’s downstairs cafeteria. “Ah, catching up on The Daily Herald, I see?”
“Hey. Yeah, me and everyone else it seems like,” Peter said, looking around at the people holding their phones or the paper, all reading or talking about the previous day’s events.
“Crazy fight, huh?” Caleb continued with a big grin, setting down his lunch and mimicking Spider-man’s web shooting stance. “I saw it in person! He was all Wa Pow and Ha Ya!”
“You didn’t see it, did you?”
“Not even a glimpse,” He smirked, taking his usual seat in front of him. “But that article was crazy, dude. Reading it made it feel like I was there. I think she even incorporated a Wa Pow in there and everything.”
“I see you didn’t skip out on your Adderall this morning,” Peter chuckled.
“Oh, fuck off,” Caleb laughed, before looking around at their coworkers in the cafeteria. “Feels like I stepped into some weird time portal. I don’t remember the last time I saw so many newspapers in one room.”
“Hey, I have a favor to ask,” Peter said, setting down the paper next to him and earning a hummed response from his friend. “You think you can cover for me for the rest of the day? There’s this girl that I really like and I found out that she-“
“If I say yes, will you spare me your love life details? I don’t need to know about another one of your casual hookups,” He sighed. Peter chuckled; he rarely ever had hookups. It was mostly an excuse to get out of work or other activities to go fight crime.
“It’s not a hookup, actually,” He corrected, making his friend’s jaw drop dramatically.
“You mean my horniest friend decided to put his trashy whore days behind him? Did you like suddenly become religious?” Caleb asked. “Oh my god… Are you dying?”
“What? No, I’m not dying,” Peter rolled his eyes. “Remember that girl I told you about? The one that patched me up after I got jumped?”
He might’ve stretched the truth a little on that too.
“Shut up. You’re actually gonna go back?” Grey leaned in, soaking in the gossip. “I knew you would! Yeah, I’ll cover for you. We’re waiting on a shipment so they’ll probably let us off early anyway.”
“Oh, dude, I owe you one!” Peter grinned before frantically gathering his things into his bag. “I could kiss you!”
Peter practically ran out of the building after he changed into his suit. He shot a web to a nearby skyscraper before launching himself into the air and heading towards the East Village. He stopped only a few blocks away from her building to change his clothes before walking up the familiar streets. He passed a small flower stand, leaving a twenty as he grabbed a set of purple flowers. “Keep the change!”
He finally made his way up to her apartment building, catching the door as someone exited and walking up the stairs to the fourth floor, stopping at the third apartment on the left.
This was it.
He took a deep breath, preparing something to say before he raised his hand up to her door to knock, only to be greeted with it flying open and a gasp.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” Y/N yelped, holding her hand to her heart. She looked up at the man standing before her with a smile, holding the flowers up. Her features softly melted into an expression of amused disbelief. “.. Peter?”
“Hi,” He greeted softly.
“What are you doing here?” She furrowed her brows, a hint of a smile teasing at the corners of her lips. “Wait- how’d you get up here?”
“Caught the door as someone was leaving,” He pointed behind him, looking into her Y/E/C eyes that danced back and forth between his own. “Can I come in?”
“I, uh.. Yeah, yeah, come in,” She stepped aside, granting him access. “I only have about twenty minutes though, I have to catch a meeting.”
“Yeah, okay,” He nodded, looking into her ever-moving eyes.
“So… did you come here for something or..?” She shifted her weight uncomfortably in the silence.
“Yeah, I just.. Y/N, I’m so sorry for leaving that day,” He began, making her eyebrows raise in surprise. “Look, I know you must think I’m a dick for the way I left. I feel like a dick for leaving you hanging without so much as an explanation. And I’ll gladly give you one if you want, but I just wanted to apologize. Oh, and these are for you.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” She laughed as he handed them to her, lifting them up to her nose and taking in their scent. “I love lavender. Thank you. Let me put them in water, I’ll be right back. Make yourself comfortable.”
He smiled and nodded before she walked away. He felt a shift in the way she looked and spoke to him. Not that he blamed her for it, he’d probably have his walls up too after his little disappearing stunt, but it was kind of heartbreaking to see the once warm and present gaze now a little colder and more distant. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, hoping he didn’t fuck things up past repair.
He took in the apartment, noticing the guitar that now sat outside of its case. She got a new set of candles and a different couch, but everything else remained the same. The warm scent of vanilla wafted through the air and the posters hung happily in their places. He took a seat on the couch as she came back into the room with two glasses of water.
“Thanks,” He smiled at her graciousness. She looked at him as if she was skeptical it was all a dream; he looked at her as if he never wanted to wake up.
“It’s comfy, isn’t it?” Y/N asked, taking a seat next to him and putting down her glass on the sturdy coffee table before shifting to look at him.
“Yeah. I like the green,” He asked, looking down at the velvet couch. “Does this one get stuck too?”
“No, that’s kind of the point of a new couch,” She teased. “That’s more of a DIY project called ‘my friends are drunk idiots’. I donated that old thing.”
“Ah,” He smiled before looking up at her. “Bummer.”
She raised her brows, giggling slightly at his flirtatious comment before looking over his shoulder at the clock. Her face fell slightly as her eyes settled on his once again.
“What?” He asked, following her gaze. “You have to leave?”
“I should leave soon, yeah. I have this important meeting with my boss. I should probably get my stuff together,” She pursed her lips, placing a sympathetic hand on his wrist and getting up.
“Oh, yeah,” He nodded, hiding his disappointment as he stood up. “No problem. I can just-”
“Peter, can I ask you a question?” She blurted out, turning towards him.
“Yeah, of course,” He nodded, sensing the shift of tone.
“What changed?” Her own disappointment was on display now.
“What changed? What do you mean?” He tilted his head slightly.
“Why are you here?” She furrowed her brows, watching as he took a deep breath. “I mean it’s been two weeks. Why today?”
“Honestly? I-.. I can’t stop thinking about you,” He admitted, chuckling nervously. “And I’ve tried to stop but.. Y/N, you’re the first thing on my mind when I wake up. I can’t get the thought of you out of my head throughout the day either; wondering what you’re doing or if you’re staying safe. I pick up The Times every morning to read your column. Hell, I can barely sleep knowing that your apartment is only a few stops away from mine. I guess I realized that maybe the reason I couldn’t stop thinking about you is because I don’t wanna stop. I just had to see you again.”
She smiled at his sweet confession and his nervous demeanor. He moved his hands frantically as he spoke, running them through his hair when he stumbled on words, his voice gently and nervously pleading for her forgiveness. “Yeah?”
“Mhm,” He responded softly, glancing down to her lips quickly before looking back into her eyes. He swore he could melt on the spot when she looked at him like that.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you either,” She took a step forward, making him let out a breathy chuckle of relief and excitement.
“Yeah?” He asked.
“Mhm,” She hummed slowly.
“And why’s that?” He took another step forward, closing the distance between them. His eyes locked onto her upturned lips.
“I think you know why,” She said softly, feeling him place his hand on her left hip.
“Maybe,” He whispered, now only mere centimeters from her face. She felt his hot breath rhythmically hit her top lip. “But I wanna hear you say it.”
“I like you, Peter,” She breathed, biting her lip. His name has never sounded so sweet. He smiled and pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear before caressing her cheek. When his eyes made their way back to hers, he couldn’t hold himself back any longer; he leaned down and kissed her.
She was intoxicating. Her lips were softer than he imagined, and they moved in perfect harmony with his own, fitting flawlessly like the last piece of a puzzle. He felt her smile into the kiss before pulling him in closer to deepen it.
Never in his life had he felt a kiss like this one. The passion was electric, sending shock waves down his spine. He never believed in soulmates, not even after hearing the other Peter Parkers talk about their MJs, not even after he met his own. But this. This kiss, this moment, this woman; it all began to disprove his personal belief system.
He never believed in fate or destiny, but he wanted nothing more than for this, her, to be written in his future. It was no coincidence that in every realm of the universe, they were meant to find each other. He finally understood the gravitational pull she had on his mind; no matter how badly he fought against it, it was written in the stars. It was now beyond him.
“Mm, I really.. need to go,” She giggled in between kisses, only to be pulled back in by the delightfully dazed man she was entangled to. “Peter.. I’m serious.”
“Okay, okay,” He smiled dreamily as he pulled away. “Wait, one more.”
He leaned down and gently kissed her before they laughed against each other’s lips.
“What time are you free tonight?” He murmured, placing his forehead against her own.
“Well, unless Spiderman decides to get into some mischief, 7:00,” She smiled.
“I’ll personally see to it that he doesn’t,” He half-joked, making her chuckle as she pulled away to grab her purse. “Can I take you out to dinner?”
“Depends,” She smirked, opening her door. He followed behind her and walked towards the elevator. “Where were you thinking?”
“Either my favorite place or yours,” He responded as she pressed the button to go down. She smiled as he pulled her in by the hips. “What’re you up for? Chinese or that diner you were telling me about?”
“Chinese actually sounds heavenly,” She threw her head back in desire, making him laugh.
“Chinese it is,” He nodded as the elevator door opened. She hesitantly pulled away before he gently grabbed her wrist and guided her back into him, kissing her softly one final time. “I’ll be here at 7:00.”
“It’s a date,” She smiled before they walked out of the building and went their separate ways, smiling like idiots with a seemingly everlasting blush that lingered on their cheeks for the rest of the afternoon.
SUMMARY: Takes place after Peter returned from the multiverse. Though he survived New City’s newest villain, he felt the weight of the life claimed. In the midst of a breakdown, he meets a young woman who offers her assistance.
TW: none really? cursing
WORD COUNT: 6500
The only sound down the dark alleyway was that of an offbeat pair of footsteps. They echoed as he limped home in the soft, cool Autumn wind. Having survived the battle meant nothing to him knowing that someone didn’t get so lucky. His thoughts circulated like a storm in his mind; quick, loud, unavoidable. So much so that the typical New York City ambience was drowned out by his anxiety ridden mind and the sound of his limp.
His ribs throbbed from the bleeding gash that now decorated them. A deep breath sat at the forefront of his mind, teasing him with the relief of the mindful action. It was, however, impossible with the injuries to his chest and the impending panic attack that loomed above him.
A child was the newest victim of New York’s newest enemy. The city named him The Collector, seeing as he always took something from his victims. He used a device on his wrist to freeze everyone around him. Everyone except for Peter. He watched as he grabbed a little boy. He watched the fear of his mother, terrorized by the sight, forced to watch because of the temporary paralysis. Peter fought. And he failed.
It had been years since anyone has terrorized the city in this way. It had been years since he needed to suit up for anything other than his nightly patrol. Even then, he only needed to fight off common criminals and saving the people of New York. Not long after Gwen died, the city’s overwhelming chaos and villains did too.
He missed those days.
He missed her.
Tap tap… Tap tap… Tap tap…
The soft sound of his limp was deafening. It sounded like a line from a dreary blank verse poem; one of war, loss, and heartbreak. It was evidence of the failed mission. He grunted, trying desperately to correct the limp to no avail.
The sounded echoed is his mind. It was a sick reminder of the night’s previous events; of the fact that his best effort no longer being as effective as it once was.
His thoughts now swelled like the dark clouds of a storm; the wind deafening. His surroundings disappeared into the anxiety induced tunnel vision. He finally let out a frustrated scream as he fell to his knees. He felt the weight of the child’s life, the weight of the mother’s scream fall onto him. He openly sobbed at the bitter memory.
In the midst of his cries, he failed to hear the woman above him open up her window and step onto the fire escape.
“Are you okay?” She spoke up hesitantly. He looked up to see her climbing down the fire escape. He wiped his tears as she landed on the floor and walked over to him. She looked at the broken man in front of her and looked down in concern; his eyes refused to meet her own. “Should I call an ambulance?”
“No,” He grumbled. “I can’t afford to go to the hospital. I’m fine. It looked worse than it is.”
A silence fell upon the two of them. He was grateful he changed into his regular clothes beforehand, not wanting to be seen in this state as Spiderman. The adrenaline that aided him in the process was now completely drained from his body.
She shifted and grabbed her backpack to pull something out. He kept his gaze on her hands, skeptical of the stranger before him.
She smiled, handing him a bottle of water. He furrowed his brows and looked up. That’s when he caught a glimpse of her beautiful features. Her warm gaze felt like the sun after a weeklong storm; relieving, happy, bright. His breath hitched out of sheer surprise; her beauty was unique and magnetic. He looked down at the bottle and gently grabbed it from her hand.
“I’d offer you an alcoholic drink but you don’t look like you’re in any condition to handle dehydration,” She continued to speak softly, as if trying not to spook him. He sensed a genuine kindness. “I worked as a CNA to get me through college. I’m pretty good with stitches if you want me to-”
“Didn’t your mom never teach you not to talk to strangers?” Peter mumbled as he opened the bottle to take a sip. He wanted nothing more than to be left alone, regardless of how melodic her voice was or how sweet her doe eyed gaze was.
“She didn’t get the chance to,” The stranger shrugged. This caught his attention; he slowly lowered the bottle from his lips as she continued to talk. “She died when I when I was young. My dad, on the other hand, taught me several lessons. Keeping my ass off of the New York City concrete was one of them. You would not believe the amount of times I’ve seen someone puke in that exact spot.”
His face twisted up in disgust as he looked down. Sure enough, the patch of pavement he sat on was stained a questionable color. She giggled and extended her arm towards him to help me up.
“Gross,” He muttered, as he took her hand. “Ignorance is bliss sometimes. Thank you for that.”
“It got you off the floor, didn’t it?” She smirked. He smiled halfheartedly and shrugged. “Um.. so I’m sure your mom taught you not to go home with a stranger, but can I take you up to my apartment and patch you up?”
He hesitated, looking into her eyes. It was too dark to see exactly what color they were but light enough to see the concern on her face. He sighed before nodding. She perked up slightly before reaching for his arm. She began slowly lifting it to wrap around her shoulder, wanting to ease his limp as his crutch.
“Wait, wait,” He said quickly. She froze, looking at him with wide eyes. “Other side, I don’t think I can lift this arm.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” She winced, moving to his other side. She repeated the motion, and let him share his weight in order to walk him into the building and the old elevator. They walked in silence until they reached the fourth floor. The elevator dinged and she guided him to the third apartment on the left. He watched as she fumbled with your keys a bit before finally opening the door. “Welcome to my humble abode.”
He looked around at his surroundings. The apartment was small but it was charming nonetheless. She had candles burning on the coffee table and vintage art covering the walls. He heard a soft tune playing from the record player in the corner of the room and recognized it; it was as if the lyrics were on the top of his tongue. The quaint ambience of the living room was relaxing. He was surprised he hasn’t felt a sense of danger. If anything, his senses were telling him the opposite; this felt like a safe haven.
He watched as she paced around her apartment, gathering different little medical tools into a bag until she finally plopped down on the sturdy coffee table in front of him.
“I’m gonna cut your shirt off,” She said nonchalantly. His brows furrowed uncomfortably. “You bled through it so I’m assuming I should start there. Or you can lift your arms up to take it off yourself. But I assume that’s not an option so..”
She picked up the scissors and snipped at the air with a facetious smile. He fought back one of his own. Her sweet demeanor was a nice change of pace; it was rare in this city. He hated to admit it to himself, especially after the awful events that happened not even an hour before, but he was utterly intrigued by this woman. She was unlike anyone he’s ever met before.
He pressed his tongue against his cheek, accepting the challenge. She raised her brows and sat back, knowing that it would be nearly impossible to do with the amount of blood on his shirt. He went to lift his arms and hissed in pain, clenching his eyes. When he opened them, he caught her already looking him in the eye with an amused smile.
“You must really like that shirt,” She teased, making him smile slightly. Something about the way she said that reminded him of Gwen. “Do I have your permission to cut it off now?“
He nodded and she got to work. He watched as she cut away carefully. Once she successfully peeled his shirt off, he noticed a small blush arise on her cheeks at the sight of him. He couldn’t help but smile, raising his eyebrows when she looked up at him. She cleared her throat with a small smile of her own before turning away to grab the small medical bag beside her.
Peter found it hard to look away. She wasn’t trying to flirt, but the subconscious coy smile that decorated her features made her irresistible. She played her embarrassment off well, making him even doubt the hint of attraction she just displayed.
“This is going to hurt a little bit,” Her eyes finally met his again. He nodded.
“I think I can candle a little bit of- FUCKEN HELL OW?!” He hissed as the alcohol hit his gash. She scrunched her nose and muttered an apology. “A little bit?!”
“Ahh, I know, I know. I’m sorry! Almost done,” She squinted her eyes with sympathy before finishing off disinfecting the wound to the best of her ability. He sighed in relief when he saw her lean back, watching as she dug through the small bag again.
The woman gathered the materials needed to stitch up the wound, feeling his gaze burn into her as she picked out the respective instruments. She looked up to see that his warm, brown eyes danced all over her face. It was as if he would be forced to draw her features from memory. She couldn’t recall the last time someone had looked at her like that.
“Stop that,” She ordered, looking at him through her eyelashes for a split second before she adjusted herself near the wound. She steadied to hands to begin the procedure.
“Stop what?” He chuckled. His laugh was soft and boyish, making her chuckle and look up at him.
“The staring,” She said as sternly as she could, not quite being able to shake the same coy smile from earlier.
“Ah. I’m sorry,” Peter grinned, looking up. She chuckled at his exaggerated movement before positioning herself once again. She took a breath, glancing up only to catch his eyes on her. He attempted to play it off by looking away.
“I’m serious! I can’t focus with you looking at me like that,” She shook her head, not bothering to move from the perfect position she attained.
“Yeah, no, that was my bad. Sorry,” He drew in his bottom lip in an attempt to stop smiling. His eyes began roaming the room once again, taking in details he hadn’t spotted on first glance. The wall opposite of him was decorated neatly with several small posters; her favorite bands and artists. His lips parted at the sight, taken aback at the similarity in his own music taste. He began listening to the music playing from your record player, it was something he’d never heard before but right up his ally. “I like this song. Who’s playing?”
“Oh, uh, my old band. I played guitar for them throughout high school and part of college. What you’re hearing is our third album I think,” She recalled nonchalantly. He looked at her with wide eyes. “Wait, stop moving. I’m almost done.”
“You expect me not to move after you told me that you’re in a band? That’s so cool!” Peter beamed, making her giggle. “What did you play?”
“Guitar,” She mumbled as she focused on the project at hand. She paused every once and a while to look up and him and further explain. He found himself longing for those beautiful eyes to meet his when she looked back at his ribs; missing them the way one would miss water in a state of dehydration. “We never went anywhere with it though. It kinda just for shits and giggles. We’d play at nightclubs and small venues. But we all hated the idea of becoming famous so we kept it pretty lowkey. I’d hate to be in the public eye. Seems like a lot of pressure.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” He mumbled, making a face. He knew all too well how much pressure it could be. “Did you ever sing?”
“Sometimes,” She mindlessly shared as she finished up the stitches. “Every blue moon, our lead singer would get sick so I’d step in. But I’ve always hated singing in front of people. I honestly don’t know how he did it. He was damn good at it too. He had this personality that completely captivated the audience and this voice that gave us the most unique edge.”
“I can hear that,” He nodded, listening to the soft rock play in the background. A comfortable silence fell upon the two as they listened to the song.
“All done,” She perked up, tossing the tools into a plastic bag. “Are your legs alright? No cuts?”
“You want me to take off my pants too?” Peter raised his brow, making her fumble with the bag in her hand.
“What? No! I mean, not like that. I wouldn’t ask you to-.. You want to borrow a shirt? Let me get you a shirt,” She stuttered, getting up and rushing off as quickly as she spoke. He refrained from laughing as he watched her disappear into what he assumed was her room. “Is a t-shirt alright?!” She called after a moment.
“Yeah, that’s fine!” He spoke up, admiring the room once more. There was a beautiful tapestry to his left and a small TV in front of it. He saw two guitar cases on the floor and smiled at the thought of her playing the instruments inside of them. In front of him, the coffee table was scattered with guitar picks, strings, and music that she’d been writing.
He felt his body healing already; one of the perks of a radioactive spider bite. He leaned forward, wincing a bit as he reached for a piece of music. He couldn’t understand the notes but he found himself in awe of the lyrics. It was about war, loss, and heartbreak. He blinked away the shock, sensing her standing at the doorway.
“I’m not nearly as musical as I seem,” Her soft voice commented, walking towards him to hand him a black t-shirt. He smiled and gently took the shirt from her hands, grazing them ever so slightly as he did. She paused for a second, trying to conceal the fact that her head was spinning at the touch. “I, uh, had one of my old bandmates come over this morning. We were just messing around with this stuff. Before today, I actually hadn’t played in like.. Pft, eight months now?”
“And here I was thinking you were cool,” He teased, making her let out a breathy chuckle. He carefully put on the oversized t-shirt, only now seeing a familiar yellow smiley face. “Okay, I revoke that comment. You like Nirvana?”
“My dad was a big fan of theirs. He actually went to so many of their shows that Kurt knew him by name,” She chuckled. “So when my mom got pregnant, my dad asked the band what my middle name should be. The story goes that they all sat in silence for a minute, watching my dad take a drag off a joint they were all sharing in an alleyway. Then Kurt smiled and said Mary Jane. So my name’s Y/N Mary Jane Y/L/N.”
“M-Mary Jane?” Peter’s breath got caught in his throat. You furrowed your brows.
“Yeah?” You chuckled, taking a seat in front of him again. “My stage name was MJ because I thought it was much cooler than Y/N.“
“Huh,” He mumbled. His mind began racing with thoughts; the experience he had in the multiverse and the other Peters’ lovers. If she was MJ- his MJ, it’d explain the spark; the magnetic and unavoidable chemistry between the two. That would explain why her personality felt like it was made for his and why her presence felt so safe. They were meant for one another; in this life and millions before, during, and after.
“You’ve got a cut on your brow,” Y/N squinted, leaning in to look at the cut. His breath hitched in his throat once more; the faint scent of her shampoo wafted past him. “Want me to start there or on your leg? Because I think your knee is bleeding.“
“I-..” He muttered. How was he supposed to act knowing he was meant to be hers? How was he meant to act casually knowing that a future was already decided on by the fates? His mind raced at the speed of light; far too fast for him to utter a sentence, let alone keep up a conversation. It wasn’t until he saw Y/N’s head tilt slightly that he realized he was gawking. “Legs.”
“Yeah, I can do..” She trailed off. “Are you okay? Do you have a concussion?”
Before he got the chance to respond, she was flashing a small light at his eyes to check.
“I’m fine,” He chuckled.
“What’s your name?” She questioned skeptically as she put the light down.
“Peter,” He smiled. “Peter Parker.”
“What year were you born?”
“1995.”
“Where are you from, Peter Parker?”
“Queens. Want my social security while we’re at it?” He responded, making her roll her eyes.
His name never sounded so sweet before. He liked the way her lips moved as she said his name, it was as if she couldn’t say it without a smile. He especially liked the way her voice slightly jumped up in pitch when she said the first syllable of each word; Peter Parker.
“Okay, smart ass,” She shook her head, putting away the small collection of medical equipment. “You want my help or not?”
“Yes!” He said a little too quickly. Though she only glanced up for a split second, he still spotted the smug look that now painted her face. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m in rapid fire interrogation mode.”
“Right,” She dragged out the word, making him blush slightly as he let out another small chuckle. “Okay, wanna take off your pants so I can have a look at that knee?”
Peter licked his lips, holding back another audacious remark. He began to unbutton his jeans, pausing when he realized Y/N didn’t bother to go to the next room. He simply raised his brows. She looked up from cleaning up the area surrounding her.
“What? Want me to cover my eyes?” She smiled, placing her delicate hands on her face to hide behind them. He chuckled before taking off his shoes and pants, throwing them onto his bag when he was done. He looked down at his underwear and silently thanked his past self for deciding to wear a pair of boxer briefs under his suit today.
“Damn, Parker. Are you taking off your pants or sewing new ones?“ Y/N groaned, slouching for that she could rest her elbows on her thighs.
“I’m done, I’m done,” He chuckled as he sat back down in front of her. She peaked behind her fingers before looking down at his knee. A deep scrape adorned Peter’s leg, a bruise already teasing at the surface around it.
“Shit,” She whispered before looking up at him. “You really got the shit beaten out of you, huh?”
“You have no idea,” He chuckled dryly, looking down. She got the memo and changed the subject.
“This isn’t as bad as your ribs. I think we might be able to get away with cleaning it and wrapping it in gauze,” She said before moving on. Just as the sensation of the alcohol burned into the wound, she found herself empathetically scrunching her nose at the sound of Peter’s groan. “I know, I know. That’s the worst of it, I promise. It’s been a while since I’ve had to do this for someone outside of the hospital setting. I used to have to patch my brother up all of the time as kids. I know a thing or two about patching up the underdog.”
“What makes you think I’m the underdog?” Peter smiled. She giggled softly as she reached back for something. He paid no mind to the object in her small hands; he was utterly captivated by the way she spoke and carried on conversation. Something about it all felt so familiar to him.
“I don’t know,” She shrugged, placing the gauze onto the wound carefully. He noticed the fact that she no longer minded his gaze. In fact, she looked up with every other word to catch glimpse of it. “You don’t give me bad guy vibes.”
“Oh yeah?” He chuckled. “What if I told you was the baddest of all guys?”
“I’d call bullshit,” She deadpanned and motioned over to his backpack with her head. “Bad guys don’t decorate their backpacks with enamel pins.”
“Oh,” He felt his cheeks warm at sight of the SK8R CAT pin he’d recently added to the small collection of dorky pins that adorned the old bag. She let out a breathy chuckle at his reaction. Dear god, that laugh was intoxicating.
“So why’d you stop playing guitar?” He asked lightheartedly, expecting the woman in front of him to light up at the chance to talk about her obvious passion. Much to his surprise, her face fell and hands paused. It took her aback. “Oh shit. I don’t mean to pry-“
“No, no, it’s fine,” She responded quickly before flashing him a small smile. “I just wasn’t expecting the question is all.. Uh, my brother was our lead singer and he died last year. He got into this huge car crash on the way back from my college graduation. After that, the band unanimously decided to put those days behind us. It just wasn’t the same without his vocals, you know? We played one last time at our drummer and bassist’s wedding.”
“I’m so sorry,” He muttered after a moment of silence. He watched Y/N shrug, keeping her eyes down as she finished up the wrapping. “I mean I don’t think I can really relate to the pain of losing a sibling but losing people you love is just..”
“Fucking awful, huh?” She finished, smiling softly as she finally looked back into his eyes. He raised his brows and nodded. “It’s like your whole world crashes and burns yet everyone still goes on. You hate how the real world just continues and refuses to stop to grieve with you. Then you grow to appreciate it being one constant in your life; the city. The sirens and yelling have become this sort of.. comforting white noise that I can’t sleep without? I don’t know.”
“Yeah, no, I actually get that,” He sighed, readjusting slowly into the couch. “I lost both of my parents as a kid and went to live with my aunt and uncle. I got into an argument with them as a teenager and Uncle Ben went looking for me. He got killed that night. Right in front of me actually. I don’t know how I would’ve gotten over it had it not been for my girlfriend.”
“Jesus Christ..” She breathed, feeling her heart sink at the confession. “Peter, I am so sorry. I can’t even imagine.”
“Oh, it was almost ten years ago now. Gwen really helped me process the pain,” He shrugged. “It really helps to have a support system.”
“Is Gwen available for weekly coffee talks?” She smiled. “She sounds incredible.”
“She really was,” He responded softly. Her lips parted, feeling a sinking feeling in her stomach once again. She placed a reassuring hand on his own and squeezed. It took him aback, her touch.
“I’m sorry,” She whispered. She didn’t let her hand linger for too long to his dismay. Though her hands were cold, her touch warmed him to the bone. It was soothing. The fact that she reached for his hand wasn’t what surprised him; it was the comfort that came with it. “Tell you what, let me clean your face up a bit and then I’ll make us some tea. Nothing like trauma dumping over a cup of chamomile tea.”
“Deal,” He nodded, still thinking about the electric touch.
He normally felt a pang of guilt at the thought of moving on from Gwen, shutting down any feeling towards another person. In his past relationships, it was a mental block that ultimately resulted in a breakup. Maybe it was the fact that she would’ve liked Y/N or that it was simply meant to be; but he didn’t feel anything other than a sense of comfort at the thought of being with the woman in front of him.
He couldn’t believe how organic her touch felt or how naturally their personalities blended with one another. Peter could practically felt the universe pushing them together. He was utterly captivated by this woman; the way she spoke, the way she moved. All he wanted was to get to know her in her entirety. He knew this longing all too well. He felt it with Gwen, but it was different with her.
“Ow!” He hissed as she pressed a small alcohol wipe into his brow. “What happened to a warning?”
“I didn’t think you needed one if you literally saw me coming at you with this wipe,” Y/N giggled.
It was only then he realized how close she was. He could feel her warm breath on his nose as she hovered above him. It was electric, the chemistry. Judging by the way her eyes kept wandering to his own, she felt it too.
“All done,” She smiled, pulling away to collect her small mess. He watched intently as she quickly cleaned up before finally getting up to go to the kitchen. “Chamomile alright?”
“Yeah, um, yeah that sounds great actually,” He smiled. “Do you need help with anything?”
“No, I just need you to sit still and heal,” She responded. He lost sight of her as she disappeared behind a wall. “Do you wanna stay the night? This couch pulls out and it’s pretty comfortable. I’d hate to see you walk home in your condition.”
“Oh, I don’t want to overstay my welcome,” He shook his head before grunting as he got up, disobeying her orders; Peter found himself drawn to her. Greater forces were working and it felt as if he had no control over his body. It longed to be in her presence.
“I thought I told you to sit,” Y/N chuckled as she looked over her shoulder to see his silhouette in the doorway. She paused what she was doing to continue the conversation. “And you wouldn’t be. Your welcome expires at 8:00 AM. I have a meeting.”
“A meeting,” He repeated, leaning against the cursed wall that separated them only moment before. “Sounds very professional.”
“It is!” She grinned proudly, turning back around to continue making the promises tea. “I’m a journalist. My boss put me on this Spiderman project a while back.”
“Oh?” Peter asked cautiously. He’d been so caught up in her world that he’d forgotten his reality.
“I’m actually really excited,” She admitted, turning to look at him every so often. “The Daily Bugle has been spreading hate on Spiderman and convincing people that he’s some menace to society. I mean it would take an actual idiot not to see that he’s a hero. Anyways, I have a New York Times column called The Daily Herald dedicated to debunk everything Jameson says.“
“You’re kidding,” Peter deadpanned. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it certainly was not that. It must’ve been a universal MJ trait, rooting for Spiderman.
“Ew, don’t tell me you actually side with that asshole!” She scrunched her nose, making him laugh at the irony.
“No! No! Not at all, I’m just shocked. That’s a pretty cool job is all,” He responded. “What’s the meeting about tomorrow?”
“He saved a little boy today. Everyone thought he was dead but the kiddo pulled through. He’s expected to make a full recovery. I’m interviewing his mother,” Y/N said casually as she grabbed the tea from her cabinet.
“He survived?!” Peter pushed off of the wall with wide eyes.
“Yeah,” She said, turning around to look at him. His tone demanded her attention. “I was shocked too. He-”
“Wait, I’m sorry. The little boy that was held in the air and thrown to the side by The Collector? That kid is the one who survived?!” He questioned, taking a step forward in excitement.
“That’s the one,” She said slowly, narrowing her eyes at his urgent curiosity. She caught a glimpse of his grin before he turned around to go lean on the wall again. A smile of relief. A smile of someone who knew the child.. or of someone who tried to save him. “Huh..”
“What?” He asked, seeing her face change into one of deep thought.
“Oh, nothing,” She pushed the thought away. It was crazy. This dorky, sweet man couldn’t be.. “Just.. It’s nothing. Can you please just go sit down? I don’t know if those stitches can withstand all of this excitement.”
He nodded slowly, wondering what just went through her mind. He hesitated before walking back to the couch. It was only a few moments later that MJ walked in with two cups of tea. He smiled at the one in her left hand.
“Careful, it’s hot,” She mumbled, setting his cup on the table. His eyebrows shot up at the Spiderman mug that was placed in front of him.
“You even have Spiderman merch?” He giggled, picking up the mug to further examine it.
“Okay, before I look like some obsessed fan, let me explain,” She laughed, blushing at his playfulness. “My best friend bought me that when I scored the job. Stop laughing! I mean it’s a small chunky cartoon version of Spiderman! Isn’t it cute?”
“Very cute,” He chuckled, not taking his eyes off of her as she relentlessly defended the cup in his hand. She smiled as she sat down with a mug that read WE ARE HAPPY TO SERVE YOU. “Is there a story behind that mug too?”
“I went to this diner with my brother a couple years ago and said they had cute cups so the idiot decided to steal one,” She smiled, looking at the cup. “Best diner in the city! I’ll have to take you there sometime.”
Peter looked down and chuckled softly. She said it so casually, as if they hadn’t just met an hour prior. The sense of familiarity was mutual. She smiled as she set her brother’s mug down before turning her body to face Peter.
“Thanks for letting me stay the night,” He mirrored her motions. “It’s not every day that I’m exposed to a kindness. It seems like a rarity in this city.”
“Yeah, the people here kinda suck,” She said nonchalantly. Another laugh escaped from his lips. “But it can be nice though. There’s this sense of anonymity, you know? You’re just a number and you can be whoever you want to be.”
“Yeah, definitely. Lonely but nice at times,” He nodded.
“God, it can be so fucking lonely,” She breathed out.
The two got lost in an organic conversation, talking as though they were lifelong friends. She spoke fondly of her childhood, giggling at the memories of her rambunctious brother. He spoke of his adolescence, recalling simpler times with his uncle and Gwen. They kept the chat platonic; besides the teasing and longing looks.
He liked making her blush. It arose to her cheeks the same way the morning sun set; slowly, subtly at first and then all at once. She covered her face with her hands and giggled when she felt it coming on, which baffled Peter. He couldn’t fathom why she would hide such a beautiful face.
The tea was long gone by the time she finally glanced over her shoulder to look at the time. “Oh my god. It’s a lot later that I thought it was. I should probably set up this couch for you.“
“Here, let me help,” Peter offered, getting up to follow through with the promise.
“No, no, no,” She frowned, grabbing his shoulders to gently move him out of the way. It was the first time he stood up straight; he was taller than she imagined. “You just stand here. I don’t want you to tear your stitches that I worked oh-so hard on.”
“Yes ma’am,” He tried to match her stern tone. She playfully rolled her eyes before methodically placing the couch cushions in the corner of the room. He watched her intently with soft eyes. She entranced him with the way she moved. Everything from how her hips swayed to how she gripped the cushions; he observed with eager attention, similar to the way one does when they watch their favorite movie for the first time. He almost didn’t realize that she was struggling to open the futon. “Y/N. You sure you don’t need help?”
She looked up and huffed in defeat, her hair strung amuck.
“So, here’s the thing,” Y/N sighed, standing back up. “I kind of forgot that my friends broke this thing last weekend. I’ve been meaning to get it fixed, but it won’t open. Just take my bed and I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“I’m not taking your bed,” He grinned at the absurdity. “I’ll take the couch if you fold it back up.”
“Right. Um,” She hesitated, looking back down at the couch. “I’ll just..”
“You can’t get it to fold up again, can you?”
“Peter, please. Do I look like a complete imbecile? I’ve got this all under control,” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Take the bed. I’ll get this sorted out.”
“I’ll take the bed if you sort it all out in front of me,” He smirked. She pursed her lips.
“Okay! So I can’t get it to fold up again,” She groaned. “I forgot it took three of us to push it back into place last time. I’ll take the floor.”
“No way!” He laughed again.
“Okay.. Then we can sleep together,” She sighed, only realizing how that sounded at the sound of his chuckle. “You know what I mean! Like share the same bed.”
“I’m okay with that,” He responded, feeling his heart speed up at the simple thought of falling asleep next to you.
“Okay,” She nodded, hesitating to walk him to her room. “You’re not like.. secretly a pervert, are you?”
“What?!” Peter laughed. “No, of course not!”
“Okay, I didn’t think so but I just had to ask,” She giggled, walking towards her room. He followed close behind, stopping in his tracks when she paused in the doorway. “Wanna borrow some pajama pants? Or do you prefer to sleep in those tighty whiteys?”
Peter looked down at his white boxer briefs, his jaw dropping offensively. She laughed as she turned back around again and walked towards a small dresser.
“These are not tighty whiteys!” He argued as he followed her into the room. It was incredibly small, but charming nevertheless. She had a bookshelf filled with old books and decorated the walls with vintage paintings. A soft white light lit up the room, giving the room a golden glow. He was surprised at how at home he felt in her apartment. Or maybe it was just the fact that she was there.
“That’s exactly what someone in tighty whiteys would say,” She teased, digging through your closet before tossing him a pair of Star Wars pant bottoms.
“I don’t know what’s worse; tighty whiteys or Star Wars pajamas,” He bit back playfully, slipping into the soft pants. They were obviously meant for men, far too big for her to wear. He hadn’t even thought of the idea that she might be taken; maybe these belonged to a boyfriend. He refrained from asking the question, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.
“So admit it? They’re tighty whiteys?” She laughed, grabbing an old t-shirt and shorts. “And don’t blame me for the nerdy PJs. My brother left them here for whenever he needed to stay the night. He was such a geek. I mean the man was super into math and science and Star Wars.”
“What’s wrong with math and science and Star Wars?” Peter raised a brow as she walked towards the door. She smiled.
“Math is hard. Science is complicated. And Star Wars is beyond bo-“
“Please don’t finish that sentence with boring. You’re actually breaking my heart right now,” He frowned, making her throw her head back in laughter.
“Be right back,” She replied, disappearing behind the door. Peter decided to lie down under the sheets. Once he got comfortable, he looked around at the paintings, admiring the beauty in them. She didn’t strike him as a romantic but the art said otherwise. Quite a few of them were of couples doing mundane things such as walking in the park holding hands or dancing in the kitchen.
“What are you smiling about?” She asked, coming back in wearing the clothes that previously dangled from her arm. He looked over at her for a moment before motioning to the pictures with his head. “Oh, they’re really cool right? I like to go thrifting for vintage pieces. My latest purchase was that old film camera on my bookshelves. I’ve been meaning to fix up for a while now.”
“I might be able to fix it up for you,” He offered as she walked to the other side of the bed. “I love messing with old cameras actually.”
“I might actually have to take you up on that,” She yawned, getting under the covers. Peter bit his lip, resisting the urge to smile. This moment somehow felt like it could be in one of her paintings; a seemingly mundane moment shared by two strangers. One of which was allowing himself to fall for the woman next to him. “Anyways, I’m gonna turn off the light. Feel free to stay as long as you want tomorrow. If you’re not busy, maybe we can grab lunch after my meeting?”
She sounded nervous, as if she had been pondering asking him that for a while. Planning out how to word it and when to say it. He looked over and smiled.
“Only if it’s at that diner you were talking about earlier,” He agreed, speaking in a soft voice. She grinned.
Requested: no Published: January 2nd, 2022 Pairing: Established tasm!Peter Parker x Reader Prompt(s): none Warning(s): none Word count: 2.3k Author’s note: My obsession continues. I’m having waay too much with his character. Also Trixie!
While at it please read my “Way Too Far From Home” one shot because it does not want to appear in the tags no matter how many times I repost it.
“How was school today?”
You stopped fiddling with the asparagus in the corner of your plate. Your mother’s cheerful voice had you reaching for your cup of water if only to give work to your mouth, so you didn’t have to engage. It needed ice cubes, the water, because room temperature with steak for dinner was not a good choice. Still, you downed it because it meant no immediate answer was needed.
Placing the high glass back on the table, you managed an awkward smile and said, “Good.”
Because it was just that.
Good.
Nothing new, nothing special. Only grades and exams and a shit ton of assignments.
“Just good?” She enquired innocently, cutting her steak delicately.
“The steak’s nice,” you said instead. Your mother’s eyes went ablaze at the lack of response, and just as she opened her mouth to demand intimate detail about how your day went, your younger sister jumped out of her seat and pointed at the TV.
“Look mom! Spider-Man!”
“Trixie-” Your mother began to tell her to stay put, but with no avail.
The child of destruction had already leaped for the sofa, throwing herself over the armrest to get a better view of the TV. She rolled over twice between the fluffy blanket before she was happily settled in to watch…
The news.
Your heart leaped in your chest.
But your mother was watching you.
Don’t show it. Don’t show it.
Don’t give her a reason to suspect. Don’t let her know you’re interested (rightfully so) in what had happened to the masked hero. Especially not for the sole reason that it will give her ammo.
The woman had her suspicions.
“HE’S BLEEDING! OH MY GOOD MOM–”
Your eyes widened ever so slightly, and you dug into your mashed potatoes like a lunatic.
“Several eyewitnesses have confirmed what many already knew. Spider-Man had fallen down thirty stories and is currently…”
“How awful,” your mother mused, cradling the wine glass in her hand. She never had a thing for peace makers that weren’t wearing a badge, “Doesn’t Peter know him?”
Should have just given it to me straight, you thought. “No, Peter just takes pictures of him.”
“Just pictures?”
“Yeah?”
“You sure?”
You gave her a look, “I’m pretty sure I would know if my boyfriend was friends with Spider-Man.”
“Not just friends but,” she began conspiratorially, but waved a hand. “Never mind.”
Then, just as fate smiled your way and your mother began succumbing to the wine and lack of interest in your geeky boyfriend (for who she did not know just fell thirty stories!) a sound so close to a falling table reasoned in the hallway.
Your room.
Not the hallway.
“What was that?”
The steak turned ashen in your mouth.
Your little sister felt as though it was her duty to pipe in from the couch, “Maybe there’s someb-”
“A lamp!” You blurted out with vehemence, “The white one from Ikea. I must have left the window open. I should probably-”
You were already running across the living room. “Y/N! Come back here this instant!”
Trixie was cackling on her spot as if shedidn’t leap off the dining table herself. “Zero manners.” You leaned into her face to say the words and snatched the pillow beneath her, ruining her tangled bliss.
“Hey!”
You took two stairs at the time, barging through your room as if you knew a burglar was in there. Scanning the desk, on which the white lamp laid undisturbed, you turned to the beanbag in the corner.
Nothing.
Then the bed.
First thing you said was, “The sheets!”
“What?” Asked Peter groggily, as if he had slept nicely before you came raging through. He twisted in his Spandex suit to release pressure on the silk sheet you were so desperately trying to get away from him. “Your boyfriend’s bleeding and you’re worried about sheets?”
“They’re silk,” you said as if it answered everything, gathering the flowery pattern that kept slipping away. “And you’ll heal.”
He brought out a hand and webs shot out, grasping your wrist and pulling you to the bed when you almost teleported to the other side of the room. Peter was so out of it he just nuzzled himself against your fallen body and murmured an almost drunken, “You smell soo nice babe.”
“Stop it,” you were still hugging the sheets in your arms, willing yourself not give him any attention. You were so angry you could bite his ear clean off.
Stupid invasive thoughts.
“Y/N? Who are you talking to?” Your mother’s voice hollered from downstairs.
Fearing she would trek her merry way upstairs and find you in bed with a bloodied red and blue man (who still wore his mask), you released the sheets and grabbed Peter’s wrist. You lead the dangly muscle clad arm to the direction of the door handle, “Shoot.”
“What?” He mumbled in your neck, sending tingles running.
“Just…” You tried to ignore his warm breath, “Just shoot your webs Peter for the love of everything–”
Pop.
The door handle became a sticky mess, connected to the wall and door by unbreakable web. You sighed in relief and fell back against the pillow. It was silk too, but you didn’t have time to strip it clean. “I need to see those wounds.”
He groaned.
“I’m serious Peter,” you told him. “Take off your shirt. Or suit. Or whatever. Now.”
“So bossy.”
You snatched off his mask yourself, revealing a Peter Parker with nasty cuts all over his face. Upon seeing the look on your face, he brought his bloodied lip out in an innocent, broad smile as his cheek rested squished on your pillow. Blood trailed his face like tears.
“Let me get the aid kit,” you announced. “Clothes are coming off. Now.”
“Yes ma'am,” he smiled, muttering a happy, “Don’t have to tell me twice.”
The aid kit was placed underneath your desk, settled in a big shoebox that once housed knee-high boots but had to give up the space in order for the emergency kit to settle in. “You have an aid kit in your room?”
You felt his eyes on your bottom as you pushed out the white leather chair and crouched beneath the big desk, half expecting to rattle your head against it because of his watchful eyes. His footsteps creaked the laminate flooring as he fought his suit, hopping from one foot to another. “Be quiet!” You said and retrieved the kit. “And yes, I do have an emergency kit in my room because you keep coming to me injured! Now take off the suit.”
“I’m trying,” Peter said beneath the suit that now clawed at his face, acting as a mask when it wasn’t. “I really am babe.” He added when he felt your own fingers attempting to grasp his suit. Every time you pinched a spot, the skintight cloth found it rebellious to slip right through.
“How do you even get this thing off?” You asked him, breathless at the lack of sudden air.
“Lots of practice.” He replied helpfully, his body unmoving as he allowed you to dot all over him. You found a good grasping spot just above his collarbone and yanked, feeling the material finally work alongside you. “And a vicious girlfriend. Ow.”
When at last the suit fell apart, you exhaled in relief but blanched at the sight of his chest.
He kissed your worried face away. “I’m fine.”
“No you’re not,” you stated, pushed him down on the bed.
“Ooohkinky.”
“Shut up,” you couldn’t help but laugh, reaching for the aid kit. “You fell down thirty stories.”
“You saw?”
“No,” you shook your head grimly, settling his head on your lap. “I heard.On the news.”
He visibly cringed, no doubt feeling terrible that you had to found out that way. Was he in the wrong for not telling you that his today’s adventure was probably going to end with him in pain? Yeah, probably, he thought.
“Mom’s been a pain in my butt though,” you told him with fake chirpiness, dabbing the antiseptic on his nose. He seethed but said nothing, being an obedient boyfriend after putting you in such a frenzy. “Almost told her that the punk she calls Spider-Man might very well be her son-in-law. God she’s infuriating.”
Peter smiled big and wide, having heard nothing of what you said save for that one label.
“And Trix?” You began droning on, “It’s like she wants mom to know. Ever since youtold her who you were…”
Peter liked your sister. Liked the filterless kid with all his might. Even the purple temporary color in her hair that she always begged you put on her. He thought it was cute that she already had such a strong personality. Smart mouth and dye in her hair.
And his biggest fan.
Then a knock on the door. Your head whipped mid wound cleaning.
“It’s Trix,” Peter supplied.
You threw a bandage at the door. It didn’t make it farther than Peter’s knee. “Go away!”
“Please!”
Throwing Peter’s head off your lap (gently) you stood up and brushed the creases off your pants. His blood blended with your dark shirt, so you were less worried about traumatizing your sister. You took a step toward the door before Peter pulled you to him. “What are you doing?” You whisper-shouted, careful not to touch his injuries after you landed on top of him.
He mouthed one word. Kiss.
“What for?”
Peter rolled his eyes, “To make it better. It’s a condition.”
“Oh? A condition?” You looked him in the eyes, tilting your head. “You’re setting up contidions?”
“It’s in the contract,” he supplied, running a hand beneath your loose shirt. “Y'know, no big deal.”
“Really? No big deal?”
“Mhmm.”
You were about to make his wish come true when he raised his head and stole one for himself. Then another. And another. “Peter…” You said in between each kiss, giddy despite the fact worry cruised through your veins. “You’re impossible.”
“I know,” he replied proudly and settled back, his torso naked for all to see. Not wanting to traumatize your sister, you at last grabbed the silken material you so desperately tried to save and threw it on him.
“Behave,” you pointed a finger, grabbed scissors off the desk and yanked them into the web. “I believe it’s in the contract.”
“No it’s not.”
“Oh I think it is,” you told him with a light smirk, “It’s under mutuality of obligation. Both parties agree that Peter Parker must listen to his girlfriend at all times,” you pointed at yourself with the scissors. “Aka me.”
His chuckle was the last thing heard before the web broke apart and a small body of a child barreled through, ear first and then the rest of her body following.
“Were you eavesdropping?” You asked your sister after grabbing her by the elbow to prevent her fall.
Trxie fixed you a stare, “No I wasn’t.”
“Yes, you were,” you and Peter said at the same time.
Her jaw went slack, “Peter!”
You rolled your eyes, shutting the door after peering into the hallway in search for your mother. “Great now we have an audience.” You said after shutting it.
“How are you feeling?” Trixie asked him, ignoring you. “I saw you on TV.”
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine Trix,” he told her banged up. “No big deal.”
“I knew it,” she said, proud to have guessed right. If only she saw what lay beneath the sheet her hero was covered with. Trixie turned to you, “Mom’s sleeping.”
“Hallelujah.”
“So, Trix,” Peter tried to sound casual as you leaned against the table with your hip, daring him with your eyes to tell her how much it hurt. “H-how’s it going?”
She scooted closer to his head, and he grunted in pain, masking the action by coughing. Your eyebrows reached your hairline.
“Good,” Trixie’s hair fell beside his. “How are you doing?”
“Oh,” he sounded surprised. “I-I’m doing good Trix. Doin’ realgood.”
“Then why’d you fall down thirty stories?”
You couldn’t help but laugh.
“I saw everything,” she announced proudly, twisting until her cheek lay in her palm, elbow digging into the bed and everything. Peter, who still rested on his back looked at her from the corner of his eye. “Somebody filmed you and they played it on the news. It was in slow motion and everything.”
“You probably shouldn’t have seen that,” Peter told her. “Too graphic.”
“So what? I can take it.”
“You’re eight Trixie.”
“And you’re eighteen and can’t even do your job right.”
“O-kay, Trix,” you came in between, grabbing her leg and yanking her toward you. “That’s enough. Thank you for bruising his ego.”
“Yeah, thanks Trix.” Peter added, suddenly sour.
“No problem,” she said, confused as to why she was unrightfully being kicked out but still proud to receive thank yous.
“Yep,” you lead her by the shoulders, “Thanks for the audience kid.”
Just as you were about to close to door in her face did she announce, “Mom said you’re driving me to school tomorrow.”
“Sure,” you said, done with dealing with her. “Might even let Peter swing you there if you leave me alone.”
Her eyes sparkled, “You promise?”
She already had a finger out. You rolled your eyes and looped your pinky through hers. “Now leave us alone.”
“Done!” She skedaddled back to where she came from.
“Impossible,” you muttered after her and closed the door. “Can’t a woman have any peace-”
Peter suddenly stood incredibly close to you, some of his wounds already healed. “Thanks for the help Y/N but I really need to make my payment.”
“It’s in the contract?” You asked him, watching him nod eagerly. “All right then. Come and collect.”
He swooped in and kissed you long, hard and good.
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maybe need a threesome with rob pattinson and andrew garfield after these pictures of a dinner party in LA
like imagine a crossover with andrew spiderman and rob batman where they have to collaborate together cos ur a vilain in gotham city and they finally caught you (thanks to peter web ???) ans they both decide to teach you a lesson for being bad and naughty ??
TASM!Peter Parker x reader (eventually), Bucky x reader (Past)
Word Count: 2.1k
Warnings: Angst
A/N: Ive always loved Andrew Garfields Spider Man, but ive never really got around to writing for him and now that im getting settled in my new house I thought why the heck not. My heart beats for Bucky Barnes so I of course had to find away to add him in here lol.
This fic will of course be based off NWH (SPOILERS) But its not at all going to follow everything down to a T, The only thing that’s going to be the same is the fact the Spider man’s are in our universe and they want to cure the villains.
And in case you get confused while reading, the reader was born in 1920, grew up with Steve and Bucky, her and Bucky were engaged before he enlisted. Bucky and Steves storylines are still the same. Will of course get more into their relationship in further parts! And how she got her abilities.
You were out of touch with the world and everything that was going on in it, which had to be a lot - it was always a lot.
You finally mustered up the courage to leave your new home, scratch that apartment, nothing and no one was ever going to be home to you again.
You were done, done looking at the brighter side of things like Tony told you to do, you should have listened to Natasha, love was for children and you were so young when you fell in love with him, and the two of you were most certainly not children anymore.
Life was hard, you always knew it would be but you never in a hundred years expected your path to go the way it did.
How did you get it so wrong? You couldn’t stop thinking maybe you shouldn’t have mustered up the courage to talk to the boy next door when you were an adolescent, that you should have just let it be and maybe you wouldn’t have been sucked into the whirlpool that was your life.
That maybe you would have found a husband, had a couple of children and died at 80 like everyone you had ever known did.
When you appeared out of thin air, you knew with everything you were made of nothing was right or where it should be and when that door in the white room opened up and Steve walked thru you couldn’t help but laugh, did you really die of heart ache and go to heaven, because that made more sense then it being 2011 when you could have sworn two seconds ago it was 1945 and Steve was dead.
And you were waiting anxiously for Bucky to walk in the door Steve came through, because if he was dead, and you were dead, Bucky had to have been there too right?
Wrong.
You were oh so very wrong because it wasnt heaven, it was some safehouse on the outskirts of New York that some government agency called SHIELD occupied, and Bucky was still dead, Steve wasn’t and neither were you.
Fall 2012
“Were going to be okay y/n/n, i promise” His hand reached out to squeeze yours
You gave him the best smile you could “How is any of this okay Steve? I have no idea how I’m here or why? I just went out for a walk after that lady told me about you and next thing i know im here? And you’re here, you’re supposed to be dead” You were standing up now and rain was hammering against the window “And he’s still gone, how is that fair? How is this okay?”
A man burst into the room you were in “If you don’t calm her down were gonna be under water here in a few seconds”
Your eyes shot back to Steve “What’s he talking about?”
Steve sighed and stood up off the chair “I haven’t told her yet”
The man rolled his eyes and adjusted his stance to face you “Look sleeping beauty, i know this is a lot, i get that i truly do, i feel for you, but we’re beating around the bush here”
“Stark” Steve warned
The man waved him off, his brown eyes still staring into yours “You have powers, yes super powers, abilities whatever you wanna call em”
A crackle of thunder boomed from above you.
He gave you a reassuring smile as he pointed to the window “All that, is you, your doing that”
Your mouth parted, you shook your head and averted your stare to Steve “He’s telling the truth y/n”
“I always am”
You took a step towards the window looking outside, you could feel it inside you, you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, watching his smile play out behind your eyes.
You felt them both behind you, Stark spoke “Pretty cool aint it”
Opening your eyes you see the rain dried up, a rainbow taking its place in the sky.
Steve smiled at you, placing an arm around your shoulder he whispered in your ear “For Bucky”
You weren’t sure how you felt about that memory, you were so greatful at the time to at least have one of your boys back in your life. And you were so happy to have a new one, Tony meant so much to you, he was one of the best people you had the pleasure of meeting in your century long life.
But of course that didn’t last long, nothing good ever does.
You thought after what Tony kept telling you that this was ’it’, this was the big fight, the fight of your lives, you thought maybe you would have been able to pull a win out of thin air like the team always seemed to do even in a last second ditch effort. But that was when the team was whole, and not scattered, tossed around carelessly.
As you were on a planet in outer fricken space, you watched everyone slowly turn to dust, as the fight you thought for sure you’d win scatter into thin air like everyone seemed to be doing. You held onto Peter’s hand offering any support you could, but when he was gone your started to feel it.
Summer 2018
“Tony” you voice was hoarse
He looked up from the spot Peter just was, your hand still where his left yours “No”
“I’m sorry”
Realization dawned in his eyes, leaning forward picking your hand up “No kid, not you too”
You watched your hand turned to dust “Its okay, its okay”
While you were dusting away you weren’t sad, you knew that they were going to find a way to bring everyone back, to win. And even if they didn’t would being gone really be that bad? Surely you over stayed your welcome being over 100.
Till you and everyone was back but at a high cost, that you weren’t sure was worth paying. Your home, the compound certainly was destroyed, and you lost some members of your family along their whole 5 year journey, another 5 years added onto your ticking time bomb of a life, you thought it was finally time for the light to stop flickering with tragic horrible unthinkable things, that it was time for it to stay on guiding you to the end of this dark twisting tunnel but you were so wrong, you always were.
You weren’t even hurt, or heart broken, it would be an honour to feel something, anything but you were walking down the dark streets of New York and the rain was hitting your skin and it wasn’t calming or causing you joy like it use to it, it was just adding to the weight of all the burdens you were carrying.
104 years
o n e hundred and four years, was a long time to be alive for, it was a number most people never even got the chance to see but you did.
You’d hear people ramble about how Steve and you should be so grateful for getting the chance to live as long as you had, how lucky you two were to experience two such different decades but you didnt feel lucky or greatful, you felt betrayed and like your chance at ever being truly happy was ripped out from underneath you.
You didn’t care for the powers you were burdened with, you wanted to go back, back before Steve was Captain America back to when Bucky was on one knee in front of that stupid oak tree outside of your parents old house with lit latterns scatteted along the lawn, back to when the ring was on your finger and not back with the owner.
Back to before after you risked your life for the sake of your boys just to have them blind side you.
Back to before Steve went back for a woman you had never even heard of till she was on your doorstep telling you about Steve and the crash.
Before you went out of your way to fight to get the love of your life back, to when you waited and waited to finally have your chance at love with him just to have him call it off because neither of you were who you were back then.
You had never felt more alone.
Had never felt more betrayed.
Then Steve left.
Fall 2023
“You’re what?”
Steve sighed “When I put the stones back I’m going stay, I’m going to find her, I’m going to taste a bit of the life Tony was telling me to get it”
“You’re just gonna leave us, just like that?” Your hand ripped out of Bucky’s, you were standing up now “W-when we finally have a chance at being happy like before?!”
“Doll” Bucky tried to reach for your hand again
You stepped further away “I can’t believe after everything you’re just going to leave me again! What if something happens and, and your not here and we fail Steve” your exterior cracking
He stood up taking you in his arms as you sobbed, gripping onto him for what would be the last time“You’re not going to fail Y/n/n, because the world has you, and you have Bucky, you have each other”
-
Then Bucky left and took apart of you with him.
-
Spring 2024
“I just feel it’s for the best right now doll” His eyes were pleading with yours, hoping that you would understand where he was coming from, but you didn’t.
“I don’t understand Buck”
He placed his hand on the table reaching for yours but you pulled away placing your hand in your lap before he could grab it, you seen him swallow back the heart ache “I just, this is the first time in 70 years where I’m free and -“
“You want to be free from everything that reminds you of the past and that includes me?” Your voice was laced with betrayal.
His mouth dropped he shook his head violently “No, not at all doll, I just want some time, time to figure out who i am now”
You nodded, pushing your chair back.
“Don’t go please, i love y —“
You pulled your necklace out from underneath your shirt, unclasping it, taking it off, a single ring hanging off of it, you placed it beside his gloved hand.
“You kept it?”
Licking your lips, tears welling up in your eyes “I waited for you, i fought for you, it was supposed to be you Buck, i thought it was gonna be us, i was wrong”
He picked up the family heirloom in between his fingers “Please keep it, it’ll always be yours, my heart will always be yours doll, i just need some time”
You shook your head, putting your coat on “I’m tired of waiting Bucky”
That was 6 months ago, he tried to call you, you never answered, Sam showed up more than a handful of times, you never opened the door. When Steve passed you watched from a distance you watched Bucky look for you and Sam reassure him you’d be there because you had to be there it was Steve, but you never made an appearance like they wanted.
Were you really that bad at making choices? So bad that you’d never be anyone’s first choice.
Your fingers trailed over the old oak tree with a heart engraved in it with ’Y/N + Bucky = Always & forever’.
What a lie, what a sham.
Your hand gripped onto the tree, your nails digging into the bark till they were bleeding you let out an agonizing scream till the rain started to fall down rapidly, the wind picked up, the sky screamed with you and the roots from the tree ran up it cracking it down the centre till the heart wasn’t whole anymore, matching yours perfectly.
A buzzing in your pocket pulled you away, you prayed it wouldn’t be him and maybe luck was finally on your side because as the raindrops littered across your screen the name ‘Peter Parker’ illuminated your phone.
You let out the breath you were holding “Hi Pete”
“Y/n, I-I need your help, i messed up so bad, i’m sure you have a lot going on but i just, i need help, p-please”
The rain eased up, the sky no longer crackling with heartbreak.
You took your hand off the tree, spinning around as your wet hair was sticking to your face. “Of course Pete, whatever you need, I told you I’m always here for you kid, where are you?”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you — “ You could hear him letting out the breath he was holding “That safe house, the one just north of where the compound use to be”
The one you woke up in.
“Okay, I’ll be there as soon as i can, do you need me to bring anything?”
You were fast walking waving your hand at any taxi you could till one finally stopped.
“Just be ready for anything”
A fight, be ready for a fight.
“I’ll see you soon Pete”
“Bye Y/n”
You hung up “Just drive straight i’ll tell you when to stop”
You rested your head on the back of the seat, your head pounding along with your heart.
The driver peaked in the rear view mirror “You’re that Avenger right? The one that can like-“ he paused making gestures with his hands “Like control earth or something like that, right?”
✍ Summary: Your Peter’s best friend. So, when he almost loses you - it’s dejavu. | 2.7k
Warning: NO WAY HOME SPOILERS
Finding yourself in a whole new version of New York with your best friend, Peter Parker, was confusing enough.
But whoever thought that it was a good idea to add some magical portal with two teenagers who seemed to be calling out to your best friend - obviously was crazy.
“Should we go to them?” Peter asked, nodding towards the portal with the two teenagers.
You looked at him, “Peter, as your best friend, you know that I often commend you for your brilliance, but this is seriously one of the dumbest ideas you’ve had.”
Relationship: TASM!Peter Parker x Reader Warnings: Mentions of sex, suggestive language, crappy title (i’m sorry) Summary: You find the hickeys Peter left on you last night A/N: This is a short, cute thing that came to me in my sleep last night lmao I’m sorry I’m on a bit of a TASM!Peter kick lately. Peter is college-age in this which is very obvious but im still mentioning it here lmao please enjoy :)
Usually, it was your alarm clock waking you up for your 8 A.M. lecture. But today, it was your annoying yet adorable boyfriend attacking your neck that roused you from your sleep.
You giggled, playfully trying to push him off. Of course, he didn’t budge. “Peter, seriously?”
Peter had surprised you last night by showing up at your dorm. His Friday lecture had been canceled and he thought that’d give him the perfect chance to come to visit you. You two had spent a lovely first night together but unlike him, you did have a Friday lecture to get to.
“Mmm, sorry,” he muttered into your neck as his hands ran up and down your sides. “Can’t seem to get enough of you. I missed you so much.”
“I missed you too, honey, but you can have more of me after class,” you replied as your alarm clock went off on your bedside table. Going to a different college than your boyfriend was tough but you know what else was tough? Passing your classes.
“Skip it,” Peter replied.
You gasped at his suggestion. “Is the genius Peter Parker telling me to skip class?”
“He is,” Peter said and lifted his head from your neck. He looked at you with tempting, pleading eyes. “And I think you should listen to him. He is a genius after all.”
You laughed and shook your head, taking the chance to slip out from Peter’s grip. He whined at the loss of contact. You ignored his silly antics as you rifled through your closet, hunting for an outfit.
“I’ll be gone for an hour at most,” you said as you pulled on the comfiest outfit you could find — because, come on, Friday class — and headed over to your mirror to start on your make-up. “You can lounge around here or…”
Your words died out as you took in your rough appearance. It took all your strength not to scream as you whipped your head to your boyfriend who was completely oblivious to what you had just found. He was laying on the dorm bed, flipping through one of your textbooks.
“Or what, babe?” Peter asked, still unaware of the anger that was beginning to boil in you.
You promptly ignored his question and asked, “Peter, what the hell is this?”
“One of your textbooks,” he replied. “You know, this all seems a little—,”
“No, Peter, I’m not talking about the damn textbook,” you said, your voice just nearly at a scream. Your tone made Peter finally look up at you. “I’m talking about the fact it looks I took a million paintballs to the neck.” You motioned dramatically towards the string of hickeys that painted your skin, ready to burst. It wasn’t unusual for either of you to leave marks on one another but you tried to refrain from it when one of you had something to do the next morning. Something like — going to class.
Peter, however, wasn’t phased at all. A cocky, cheesy grin slowly broke out on his lips as he took in the marks he had shamelessly made on you last night. There wasn’t even an ounce of remorse in his eyes.
“I didn’t hear you complaining last night,” he said with a laugh. “You were screaming but it wasn’t from anger.”
You felt your skin get warm as the memories of your late-night activities flooded your brain — No, you couldn’t get distracted by that. You pushed back the thoughts.
“I have class to go to, Peter,” you whined as you began fumbling for your foundation. You didn’t actually normally wear heavy make-up, your foundation only being used in desperate times. Like now. “I barely have time for this.”
Peter sat up on the bed. “Then leave them,” he said with a shrug. That ridiculous smirk was still plastered on his face.
You shot him a look in the mirror. “I can’t go to class with all…this on my neck. What on earth would my classmates think?”
Peter barked out a laugh. “Maybe that you have a partner who knows how to please you?”
“Peter, that’s…” You shook your head but didn’t know where to go with your words. You eyed your foundation, trying to ignore the little stirring that began in your stomach at his words. Well, when you put it that way…
When you turned your attention back to the mirror, Peter was suddenly behind you. You nearly jumped, having not heard him approach. He was sporting only a pair of grey sweatpants that were hanging tempting low.
“That’s what?” He asked as his hands snaked around your waist and his head fell to your shoulder. Your gaze met his in the mirror. “That’s a good idea? That’s a great idea? I am a genius, according to you.”
Gosh, he was never going to let that go. “It’s just… It’s not very professional, is it?”
“If you’re so worried about it,” he muttered into your neck, “why don’t you skip class today and come back to bed? We’ll let those marks heal, hmm?”
You squirmed beneath his touch, a light, breathy laugh leaving your lips. “Are you really going to let them heal? Or are you just going to add more to the collection?”
“Hmm,” he sighed, “haven’t decided yet. Why not come back to bed and find out?”
“You’re ridiculous, Peter,” you said as he began pulling you away from the mirror and towards your dorm room bed. It was the complete opposite of what you should be doing, but you didn’t have the strength to fight it.
“But you love me,” Peter replied.
“Yeah,” you muttered, “I guess so.”
The next thing you knew, you were being pulled down into the sheets once again.
Warnings: fem!reader if that’s a warning, children, marriage, emotional conversations, not much else, it’s pretty fluffy
Summary: You are Peter Parkers wife and when you get pulled into another dimension with him and have to help these kids, you realise you can help this version of you in another universe.
Word Count: 2.4 k
It had been a regular day, you were waiting for Peter to come home from patrol, Aunt May was in the other room with baby Ben. But now it was midnight and he should have been home by now, the panic setting in.
You walked into the other room, pulling May aside. But not before you checked on Ben, making sure he was okay.
“Peters not back yet, I-I’m gonna try calling him again, can you watch Ben for a bit?” you asked. May wrapped her arm around your shoulders, both of you looking over the sweet little boy laying in the crib. He looked just like Peter, those bright brown eyes staring up at you and those sweet little locks of curly hair on his head.
You sighed, walking over to your shared bedroom with your husband before grabbing your phone, dialing Peter’s number for the third time tonight. Sure, he would sometimes be out on patrol late but he’d always call to let you know.
“Hey Pete, just wanted to check on you,” you said, leaning against the wall with a frustrated sigh, “You’re late, Ben just woke up again but May’s here. Do you need any help? Please call me back,"
All of a sudden, you could feel your body beginning to evaporate and you were in a random apartment bedroom that looked just like yours but wasn’t.
Peter was looking around the streets. One second he was heading home and the next, he had disappeared and was in the same alleyway but everything seemed different.
He swore under his breath before swinging to the nearest phone and dialing your number. Someone answered the phone, a male voice asking who it was. Instantly, he froze, dread sinking into him.
"Where’s Y/N?” He asked, his voice stern and harsh.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know anyone called Y/N,” the man said, “I’m sorry, I think you have the wrong number man,"
Peter instantly looked around, scanning the alleyway for you. He couldn’t let what happened to Gwen happen to you. He didn’t know how he’d live with himself if he let someone hurt you and Ben.
Whilst all of his fears were running through his head, he saw a portal open in the distance from the alleyway. With a confused look, he walked towards it, hearing people calling out his name.
When he walked in, he looked around at the two teenagers standing there. Suddenly, an older woman threw a cushion at him and the portal that he had walked through closed.
He pulled the mask off, looking around and staring at the people. You weren’t here.
"I’m Peter Parker, Spiderman,” he looked around, narrowing your eyes, “I was in my world but then I came here this morning, and now I’m here,”
They looked at him, the young girl MJ narrowing her eyes at him, “So it wasn’t just the villains,” Ned stated.
“So you’re telling me that matter displacement, multidimensional theory, its all real?” He asked and they nodded their heads. He smiled, a wide grin on his face as he looked around.
“But that doesn’t answer our question, where is our Peter?” MJ asked.
“Prove it, prove you are Peter Parker?” MJ said, folding her arms across her chest with a defiant look.
“I don’t really carry ID with me, it kind of defeats the secret identity thing,” he said before reaching into the small pocket by his side. He pulled out a photo of you, him and Ben before putting it back in his pocket, “Listen, I really need to get home,”
“Doesn’t matter,” MJ said before throwing a piece of bread at him that was sitting on the table.
“What was that for?” Peter asked, looking at her confused as the bread bounced off of him.
“I wanted to see if you have the Peter Tingle,” she said before picking up an orange off the table and throwing it at him.
He looked at her with confused gaze, “I have the Peter Tingle but now for food,” he said before looking around, “You are a very distrusting person and I respect that,” he jumped up, his hand sticking to the ceiling to show that he really was Spiderman.
“Crawl around,” MJ ordered.
He raised his eyebrows, “Crawl around?” He questioned as if it was the craziest idea in the world.
“We need more proof that you’re Spider Man,” she explained and the guy next to her stood awkwardly there.
With a sigh, he jumped up, crawling around a bit and even fulfilled Ned’s Lola request of cleaning the cobweb in the corner. “We good?” He asked when he came down
“For now,” she narrowed her eyes at him before turning to Ned, “Let’s keep doing it until we find the real Peter,”
Ned nodded his head, holding his hand out, “We want to find Peter,” he said, waving his hand around to reveal another person. This time, an older man walked out dressed in clothes suitable for a youth pastor, “Oh, it’s just some random guy,”
“Hope it’s okay, I just came through the portal,” he said before turning around, looking at it close, “Oh, it’s closed now,”
“Peter?” Ned questioned as he looked at the man.
Then the man noticed the other Peter that stood behind them. They both looked at each other before simultaneously shooting their webs at one another to see if they really were both Peter Parkers.
“So you’re Spider Man too?” Ned questioned before Lola walked in, saying something, “Also you two need to clean up the webs that you shot,”
They apologised to Lola before the second Peter looked at them all, “Well, I generally don’t go around advertising it,” he said.
When they found their Peter, they all comforted him over the death of his version of Aunt May. He blamed himself for it and they didn’t feel good about it.
“I lost my MJ once,” your Peter explained, his eyes tearing up, “I wasn’t fast enough to save her. I became bitter and stopped pulling my punches, I became full of rage,” he took a deep breath, looking at the young boy in front of him, “Then someone else stepped into my life and, and everything just became clear,"
He had met you in high school and you had always been friends with him. You had helped him through everything but when Gwen died, you had helped him recover and find himself again.
The three different Peters walked into the labs to work on their work. The first thing your Peter did was rush over to Ned, "Hey, is there any way that you can check with your magic hands if uh, my wife Y/N is here,” he asked and Ned raised his eyebrows.
“You have a wife in this reality?” Ned questioned and he smiled.
Peter nodded his head, pulling the picture from his pocket, “And a son,” he said, a huge proud grin on his face, “I just want you to see if she’s here’s, and my son Ben, I don’t want them to just be out there,”
Ned smiled to himself before closing his eyes, “Find Y/N Parker, and Ben Parker,” he said, moving his hands around.
A portal opened and through it, Peter saw you, a relieved smile on his face. You stormed through it, hitting him on the chest, “Where the hell am I?” You asked but he just pulled you closer into a hug.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he placed his hands on your face so that you were now looking at him, “How’s Ben? Is he at home with May? Did he come here with you?”
“Idiot, he’s at home with May. He’s fast asleep, now will you please explain to me why you didn’t call and where I am?” You asked, watching as everyone in the laboratory watched you and Peter interact.
“This is another universe, these are two other Peter Parkers,” he explained, pointing at two people behind him, “And we’re going to help cure the villains, like max,” she nodded, listening to him explain. He turned to look at everyone, “Guys this is my wife, Y/N,”
You looked around, smiling awkwardly before waving at the group of people. “Hey, um, do you need any help?” You asked, incredibly nervous.
“You seem awesome,” the girl said with a smile on her face and she lead you to the corner to show you how you could help out. “I’m MJ,” she held out her hand and you shook it.
“I, surprisingly, am also MJ but nobody’s called me that since high school. Y/N Mary Johnson, but uh, I just go by Y/N Parker now,” you explained and the girl smiled, realising that maybe she could have what you and Peter have.
“Well this is the stuff, I can help you a bit but I’m not really the chemistry one,” she explained and you nodded, “Peter is,” you both said at the same time, chuckling afterwards.
“Do you know if there’s like an interdimensional phone so I can reach May, I have expressed milk at home but she should probably know that I haven’t just abandoned my kid,” you explained, kind of rambling on a bit.
“We haven’t been able to figure that out yet," MJ said before looking around, almost seeming anxious to say the next words, "How does it work, with you and Peter and the whole spiderman thing,”
You smiled to yourself. She wanted what you had with your Peter, a life where she could balance love and the rest of her life. She was just like you in so many ways.
“It’s hard. He comes home late and struggles with the pressure and he’s scared of losing us; but it means the streets are safe. And he’s always there for Ben and for me and it works,” you explained, nudging her in the shoulder, “and hey, you two will make it work as well. Peters and MJs always end up together anyway,”
Your Peter looked over at you. He didn’t know how he deserved someone so smart and amazing who understood all aspects of his life. The worry he felt every day wondering if you and Ben would be okay. The fear of how stable his job was. The joy of being with his family. You understood it all.
“It’s sweet they can talk,” your Peter said to the other Peter as they worked on the cures for the villains, “About dating spiderman,” he chuckled to himself, “God that sounds so weird,”
“Yeah, with everyone knowing my identity, I don’t want her life to be ruined because of it,” The younger Peter explained, looking over at you and MJ as you laughed together.
“I know it sounds hard, but you can make it work. If you love MJ, it’ll work out. Because seeing the woman you love standing at the end of the aisle, seeing her holding your child in her arms,” he chuckled to himself, taking a deep breath as he looked over at you, “It makes all the worries and fears of being Spiderman evaporate in seconds,”
Once it was all over and they had managed to save everyone, the Peter from this reality was going to have to erase everyone’s memories so that everything would be fixed.
You walked up to MJ, “Listen, before you say goodbye, remember what I told you. This is gonna work out, MJs and Peters belong together. And anyway, if you ever need a girl chat, try to discover interdimensional texting,” she said, pulling the girl in for a hug.
“Thanks,” she said, wiping the tears away before walking over to her Peter. So you said goodbye to everyone and walked over to yours.
“It was lovely to meet you other Peter,” you said, pulling him into a hug.
“It’s nice to meet you too,” he said before wincing and you realised you had leant on his stab wound. You apologised and he just laughed.
“Let’s go home,” you said, taking your Peters hand in yours. He nodded, pulling your hand up, pressing his lips against your knuckles.
“Let’s go home,” he repeated.
That same tingling feeling that was there when you first appeared in this world appeared again and you appeared in your apartment. It was like no time had passed at all.
But Peter wasn’t there.
The first thing that you did was run towards your baby’s room in that cheap New York City apartment and pull him into your arms, cradling him against your chest.
Almost in an instant, Peter was swinging through that window, ripping the mask off and looking at you with tears in his eyes.
He rushed towards you, placing his hand on your cheek and pulling you in for a soft kiss, holding you and your son close.
“Does anyone want to tell me what is going on?” Aunt May asked and you both looked at her, forgetting that she was even there.
You both looked at each other, a sense of knowing in your eyes. You’d done something good today, helped influence these kids’ lives even if they were going to forget it in the next moment.
Did I like this. No. Did I have fun writing it though. Yeah, I kind of did.
Warnings: Sadness, a bit of fluff, memory loss, fighting, near death experience.
Summary: As Neds older cousin, you never felt like you really fit in with them. Until he turned up and made your entire universe turn upside down. So how does this affect both of you and the turns your futures make?
Word Count: 3.2 k
You stood in Ned’s kitchen with him and MJ, trying to find Peter using Ned’s newfound powers of the mystic arts. “I just wish I could see him,” Ned yelped, circling his hands and making a portal form from thin air. Inside of that orange portal was someone in a spider suit, standing in an alleyway.
“Peter!” You called out, the others joining in so that the man turned around and started walking towards them. But when he stepped into the light, you noticed he had a different suit on.
He took off his mask and you all stared at him in shock. He wasn’t your Peter Parker. Instead, it was a man in his twenties with messy brown hair atop his head. You felt your heart skip a beat and his gaze lingered on yours in a strange way that made your stomach flutter.
“Who the hell are you?” You asked, picking up a rolling pin from the side and pointing it at the man, “Where is Peter Parker?”
“I am Peter Parker. In my world anyway, I suddenly appeared here the other day,” he looked around, waving his arms around, you explained to him about the different universe and he just smiled, “Multidimensional reality theory, its all real. This is insane,”
He had this wide grin on his face as he realised he was in a different dimension. You stepped forward, narrowing your eyes, “That still doesn’t answer the question, where is our Peter?”
“Your Peter?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at the three.
“Well how do we know that you’re Peter Parker?” MJ asked and this other Peter pat himself down.
“I don’t really carry ID with me, it kind of defeats the purpose,” he explained. MJ shook her head, picking up an orange from the table and throwing it at him, “Why did you do that?”
“I wanted to see if you had the tingle thing,” MJ answered, shrugging her shoulders like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“I have the tingle thing but just not for bread,” he explained and you rolled your eyes, looking over at MJ. He jumped up, his hand sticking to the ceiling as he tried to prove he was spiderman.
“Crawl over the ceiling,” MJ requested.
“Crawl over the ceiling?” Peter repeated. She nodded her head and he sighed. With a strong jump, he leapt onto the ceiling and began to crawl around in a bid to show them he was Spider man.
Ned’s lola walked over, saying something before he translated it for them, “My Lola asked if you can get that cobweb in the corner,”
You chuckled to yourself, not noticing the slight smile on Peters face as he crawled into the corner and brushed it away for her
When he came down, he looked over at the three of you. “I think that’s enough,” he stated, looking at you as if you saw him as a dancing monkey.
“Just keep doing the magic thing till we find the real Peter,” MJ said, brushing off the slightly hurt look on Peter’s face.
Ned spun his hands around again and the portal opened. This time, an older man in his thirties walked out in regular clothes, “I hope its okay that I came through this,” he said before turning around, “Oh, it closed,”
“Peter Parker?” You asked, realising this was probably him from a different universe.
When he noticed the other Peter Parker, the first one that had arrived, they both stared at each other intensely. All of a sudden, they both shot their webs at each other, the three of you jumping out of the way.
When they had calmed down, the second Peter who had arrived was talking to MJ and you were talking to the first Peter, asking him about his life and where he came from.
“So, how, uh, do you know your Peter?” Peter asked as he stood next to you whilst the others brainstormed ideas of where their Peter might be.
“Oh, I’m Ned’s older cousin. I live with them but I’ve never quite fit in, you know,” you said, turning to look at him. He had this intrigued look on his face, like he was listening to every single word that you said.
“You okay?” You asked and he seemed to shake out of that trance.
“Yeah, yeah, just tired,” he explained. You saw through the fake smile he put on but decided not to pry, you had only known him for 20 minutes.
They rushed to the rooftop where MJ thought that their Peter would have gone. It was a beautiful night and they found him sitting there, tears in his eyes.
MJ and Ned knelt down next to him, embracing them in a hug. He cried to them about how he felt about Aunt May’s death and you felt for him but didn’t want to intrude.
“We have some people we want you to meet Peter,” MJ said and Peter looked up at the other two Peters who had approached.
He stood up, shaking his head as he looked at them, not knowing who they were, “I’m sorry they dragged you in here but I’m done, you don’t understand,” he threw his hands up in anguish, not wanting anyone else to get hurt like she had.
“I lost someone too,” the first Peter who had appeared explained and everyone went quiet, your gaze turning to him, “She was my version of MJ, I couldn’t save her either,” his eyes were full of tears and you could see how much this was hurting him, “But I carried on because that’s what she wanted. Until there came a point where I stopped pulling my punches and became full of rage,”
He couldn’t meet your gaze. What you didn’t know is that you reminded him of her. Of Gwen. You had the same smile and the same positive outlook on life. It was all too much and not enough at the same time.
Once again, you felt left out even though Ned was your cousin. You couldn’t comfort Peter, you couldn’t advise him like the other two could.
They decided to go back to the labs at Midtown High to be able to use their facilities to cure these people. Because that’s what Peter knew Aunt May would want him to do.
You tried to help as much as you could, but with your lack of science knowledge, you weren’t as much of a help but you still tried.
“Peter,” Ned called back and they all answered.
You chuckled as Ned asked again, “Um, Peter Parker?”
“Ned, I think they’re all called Peter Parker,” you said with a half chuckle, “I think he needs you on the computer Peter from this universe,”
“Okay, we need codenames, I’m Peter One,” Your Peter said before pointing at the one in civilian clothes, “You’re Peter Two,” and then he pointed at the one who you had began to grow fond of, the one who was in a lab coat, “And You’re Peter Three,”
They had developed all of the serums and you hoped that they worked, because if they didn’t then you were going to have to press that button on the box and send them all home, even Peter Three.
Aimlessly, you reached into the drawer of the science lab to find a load of confiscated items but the one that stood out was a Polaroid camera.
“Peter Three, come here,” you said, spinning the chair round to him, “Smile,”
He chuckled, posing for the photo with a smile and an awkward peace sign. It printed out and you shook it before looking at it, chuckling at how awful it looked.
“Yeah, maybe not one for the photo books,” you said, placing it on the table with a smile. Peter picked it up, smiling to himself as he put it in the pocket of his suit.
You looked over the last few pieces as you ignored the now missing Polaroid. When you looked up, you saw Peter One and MJ holding hands, looking into each other’s eyes.
“Young love,” you said with a chuckle, a slight smile on your face, “It’s such a weird concept isn’t it,” you turned to Peter Three and he shrugged it off.
Then you remembered about his MJ. About the girl that he didn’t have the opportunity to save, that he was clearly still in love with.
“Oh god, I’m so sorry, I forgot about um, her,” you said, feeling slightly embarrassed with what you had said as you looked away from him.
“It’s okay, that was five years ago. I’m uh, it doesn’t hurt as much anymore,” he explained. But you knew he was lying. It was just something that you could sense, when people were lying.
You turned to look at him, building up all the confidence you could muster. He was staring at you, eyes glossy and upset.
Before you could talk to him, Peter announced the plan and you decided to walk away so that Peter Three couldn’t hear your heart pounding in your chest. But he did.
The three Peters decided to go and fight the villains that had come over whilst you, Ned and MJ stayed in Lolas house to protect the box. Ned, with his newfound powers, opened a portal that would lead them to the tower but he couldn’t close it again.
The three of you argued over it, MJ berating Ned for not being able to close it. However you felt worried, sick to your stomach. You always did when you knew that your friend was in danger, but this time it felt doubled. You knew that you felt worried about the other Peter, the Peter you kept thinking about.
All of a sudden, the lizard man rushed in, trying to pounce on the three of you as you all rushed around the room and towards the portal.
The only exit that would guarantee the safety of both you three and the box was through the portal and so you jumped, watching as Peter Two jumped on him and took him out.
You didn’t notice and continued to run, splitting up from MJ and Ned. When you turned around and stopped, your foot got caught on a piece of metal and you began to fall.
The world began to slow as you fell and you screamed Peter’s name. You looked up and saw Peter Parker, your Peter Parker, leap down and try to reach you.
Your hands nearly reached and the feeling of drowning and suffocation began to stop. That was until the Green Goblin hit him away with his hoverboard, knocking him away from you.
As you watched him being hit away into the distance, you closed your eyes, ready to let go and die. Maybe this was your fate, to die at the hands of a supervillain for absolutely nothing.
“No!” You heard Peter yell out and this time it was Peter Three. His voice was full of regret and the pain was obvious as he realised it was all happening again, just like Gwen.
So you opened your eyes. Your eyes met his and you could see the fear and panic in them. He leapt after you and at a speed you had never seen anyone fall before, he reached out to you. There was a sense of urgency in his eyes as he reached for you, hands brushing with a spark.
He instantly wrapped his arms around your body, the warm heat of him and the strong smell engulfing your every sense. With a rapid sense of desperation, he shot his web shooters onto the scaffolding so that the two of you could land safely on the ground.
Peter held you bridal style, his chin resting on the top of your head and his breathing erratic. You couldn’t even look up, just opting to nestle your head into his chest and take deep breaths to slow the pounding of your heart.
You looked up into his eyes, those deep brown eyes that you hadn’t forgotten since the second you saw him. And oh, they taunted you to desire him and everything that he stood for. And before you knew it, in a mere matter of seconds, you found yourself falling in love with the man holding you in his strong secure arms.
“Are you okay?” He asked with a rough and shaky tone of voice. You looked up into his eyes and nodded, both of you with tears in your eyes.
He looked like he was about to cry, about to break down completely. “Are you? Okay I mean?” You asked with the same shaky voice - you were scared after falling from such a height, your life flashing before your eyes.
“I couldn’t save her,” his voice broke as he said that, a single tear rolling down his cheek.
“You saved me, and that-” you lifted your hand up, placing it on his cheek in such a delicate way, “-has got to count for something,”
He leaned forward, both of you seeming to gravitate together like two magenta being pulled together like a strong force. When your lips touched, you felt that strong spark. It was sweet and perfect and everything you could have ever wanted. He kissed you like he was going to wait the next day but oh, was it tender and sweet like you were a delicate doll and he couldn’t bear to break you.
When you both pulled away, you felt your face heat up, a giddy smile on your face, “Well, you should uh, probably go,” you said and he let you down, his hands still on your shoulders like he didn’t want to let go.
“Yeah,” he whispered before pressing a kiss to your forehead and swinging away.
You leant back against the scaffolding, heart pounding in your chest. You wanted to kiss him again, to hold him, to comfort him. It didn’t matter that you’d only known each other for less than a day, you’d felt more alive in those few moments than you had in months, years.
As he swung away, all Peter could think about was you. Your lips, gentle and warm, your embrace, the sweet smell of you. Some would say that it clouded his judgement but he didn’t care. He hadn’t felt like this ever, not even with Gwen. There was this rush, this feeling of a string that connected the two of you, one uncuttable by even the fates themselves.
After the battle was over and done, your Peter, Peter One, checked up on you and the only thing you had left of the battle was a scar, a small one under your eye that must have been from when you first fell.
Peter Three rushed over to you after he had checked on Peter Two who had been stabbed in the battle, and you could tell he wanted to kiss you but decided against it, instead pulling you into a long hug.
“I guess this is it, isn’t it,” you said, tears in your eyes, “I’ll come with you, please,”
The two of you were illuminated by the looming presence of the multiverse cracking above them. It was almost poetic, to see your feelings being split up like a rift in the world. Two people who were never meant to be together. Even Shakespeare couldn’t have seen this tragedy coming.
“You belong here, I can’t take you away like that,” you explained and he pressed his forehead against yours.
He picked something out of a strange pocket in his suit and reached into your jacket pocket, leaving the object there.
“For when I’m not here anymore,” he whispered. Peter placed his hand on your cheek, tilting your head up so that you could kiss him one last time.
It wasn’t as desperate, this time the kiss felt almost mournful, like a goodbye he didn’t get to have last time.
The hand went cold and you felt the warm kiss on your lips disappear. When you opened your eyes, he was gone and you looked around, not understanding why you were here.
You stood in the cafe with Ned and MJ months later, the three of you laughing about something dumb with the two of them now going to MIT with you.
You reached into the pocket of your jacket for that piece of gum when you found a Polaroid. You narrowed your eyes at it, looking at the picture of you and some handsome man standing together, wide smiles on both of your faces.
“Wow Y/N, who the hell is that?” Ned asked and you furrowed your brow, staring at the image.
“I don’t know,” you simply stated. But your heart filled with something that you didn’t understand, and your mind went blank whenever you tried to remember the face in front of you.
MJ walked back from helping some weird customer when she saw the picture, “He’s cute,” she said with a chuckle.
You stood up, “I’ll be right back,” you said, stumbling into the bathroom and staring at the mirror at your own reflection, not recognising the miserable person in front of you. You looked so happy in that photo, so where did that go?
Before you even knew it, you fell through a portal, landing in the streets of New York. But this wasn’t the New York you knew.
“Y/N?” A voice asked and you looked up to see him, the man from the photo.
All the memories came flooding back to you and you smiled. Falling, the lab, your kiss, the goodbye, it was real, “Peter,” you whispered, a grin on your face as you jumped into his arms.
☆☆☆
So I have refound my love for Andrew Garfield and despite the fact that this is not my best post, I still like it. If you want like a part two for this I wouldn’t mind writing it. I also have a few more ideas around No Way Home as its all I can think about so they may be out soon, maybe. But yeah, I hope you enjoyed it :)
Summary: Peter Parker is always getting injured and Y/N, his long time girlfriend, is always being pulled into it. Until one day she’s too scared and has to tell him.
Word Count: 1.7 k
As Peter’s girlfriend, you knew that things could go wrong, that one day you could wake up with a call saying that your Peter had died. But the call you hated the most was the one full of heavy breaths, asking you to come round because he has an injury.
Having dated Peter Parker since college, you knew everything about him and your long term relationship was as strong as it could be. But you couldn’t help but worry every time he went out on patrol, worried that one day he wouldn’t make it home.
You drove there as fast as you could, opening the door with your spare key that he had given you. You gasped as you saw him sitting on the couch, shirt off and looking down at a large cut through his abdomen.
“Oh no,” you whispered to yourself and he looked up, putting on a fake smile as he gritted his teeth.
“Hey baby,” he said and you shook your head, walking over to him and sitting next to him. You looked at the large gash across his abdomen and shook your head. That looked deep and probably needed to be looked at by a medical professional.
He chuckled to himself as he looked down at it but you saw past that fake smile and the seemingly relaxed look on his face. You noted the thin layer of sweat forming on his face and the way that he would occasionally wince when he would move.
“Come here,” you said, placing a hand on his cheek and moving his head so that he was now looking into your eyes, “You need to go to the hospital for this Peter,"
"No, no, how do I explain this?” He asked, letting out a shaky sigh before putting on a funny fake voice, “Hi sir, what happened? Well I was in a fight, I’m Spiderman you see, and this guy with a big knife hit me and I managed to web him up before going home.”
You rolled your eyes, grabbing the first aid kit that was next to him, “I hate you,” you muttered, pulling out the antiseptic wipes, knowing you were going to have to clean him up now because he was too stubborn.
“You know you love me,” he chuckled, hissing through gritted teeth as you brushed the wipe across the wound that would clearly leave a scar, “I love you,” he whispered and you looked up at him, face softening.
You would always be angry that he constantly put himself in harm’s way, but you could never stop him and the plague of worry and fear would always follow you around no matter how much you loved him.
“Yeah, yeah, I love you too,” you said before reaching over and grabbing the stitches and the needle.
Aunt May said that you were a good influence on him, that you kept him grounded and reminded him that he couldn’t just go around fighting carelessly, that you gave him someone to come back home to. His love for you was like Aunt May had never seen before.
You didn’t believe in soulmates, but this boy with the brown doe eyes and slightly sweaty tousled hair that fell over his face, he was the closest thing that you would ever find to one.
You grabbed a cloth, pressing it against the wound on his chest, “Hey,” you said, placing a hand on his face and making him look at you, “You okay?
He hissed, placing a hand on top of your hand over his wound, "I will be baby,” he said, a half hearted smile on his face as he chuckled, “It hurts like a bitch,”
Peter sighed as you took the cloth off of the wound. He looked just as amazing as he did every day, even with that thin blanket of sweat on his forehead. You watched as Peter leaned his head back, eyes screwed shut as you began to sew up the wound.
He hissed slightly as you began to sew it up, “Maybe if you were safer it wouldn’t hurt that much,” you said and he rolled his eyes, “haha,"
Every time you would pull the piece of medical string, he winced slightly, tapping his fingers against the seat of his chair as he tried to make it through the pain. The soft drilling sounds were the only thing that filled the silence as you focused on the task at hand.
He opened his eyes and looked down at you, your hair tied up in a bun, the focused look in your eyes as you tried to make him better. He loved you more than anything in the world.
Peter didn’t know how he deserved you. Someone that loved him despite the fact that he was spiderman and despite the fact that he always put himself in harm’s way to help everyone else.
He reached down, brushing a piece of hair away from your face and tucking it behind your ear as he noticed it was in your way. He also noticed how you blushed slightly when you did that.
When you tied that last piece up, he winced but let out a shaky breath. You picked up another antiseptic wipe and brushed it over the injury, "Can’t have you dying on me can I?
"Wouldn’t even thing about it baby,” he whispered, looking down at you with a soft smile.
You placed a gauze in the wound before helping him sit up, wrapping a bandage around his chest just in case the stitches came loose. “You should probably take it easy for a little while,”
When you leaned up to look at you, he placed a hand on your cheek and pulled you in for a kiss, a gentle and grounding kiss that reminded you both that you were here and he was okay. He was going to be okay.
“You gotta be safer,” you whispered against his lips, resting your forehead against his. He noticed the tightening of your voice as you said that and the wave of worry that rushed from you. He couldn’t tell whether it was from his spider-senses or because he just knew you so well, but he knew something was wrong.
“What’s up Y/N?” He asked and you looked up at him, tears in your eyes. His heart filled with pain as he saw you like that because he never wanted you to feel upset.
“I’m scared for you,” you whispered, watching as he brought his hand up and brushed the tears away with the pad of his thumb, “I don’t want you to get hurt, I just, I love you so much and I don’t know what my life would be without you,”
He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Marry me,” he whispered and you pulled back, looking at him.
You scoffed, a surprised chuckle leaving your lips as you looked at him, “You’re serious?” Your eyes were wide and shocked, looking at him with an incredulous look.
“Y/N L/N. You are the only girl for me, and I love you with every single bone in my body. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and give you everything you want, even if that means giving up the suit.” The words were sincere and so full of love that tears began to spill over your eyes as the realisation began to sink in, “Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”
You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a tight hug, “Yes, yes, oh my god Peter, yes,” you muttered into his shoulder before pulling back, smashing your lips against his.
He had never been so happy in his entire life. Peter Benjamin Parker had never been so sure of what he wanted. And what he wanted was to marry the beautiful girl in front of him and to start a family with her, a big, happy, beautiful family.
“Stay there,” he said, wincing as he stood up, hobbling over to the drawer before pulling out a box.
You smiled, placing a hand over your mouth as he sat back down, opening the box and showing you the diamond ring, “It was my moms, I thought you should have it,” he said, taking your hand and placing the ring on your finger, nothing had ever felt that right before.
“God, I love you Peter,” you said and he smiled, pressing a kiss to your lips before replying, “I love you too Y/N.”
You never would have believed that Peter Parker would ask you to marry him in his living room, shirtless with a bandage on his chest. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.
