#andrew garfield!peter parker x reader

[literaila]

i’ll tell you in the morning

tasm!peter x reader

summary:

“you’re going to fall through the couch.”

“the couch would never betray me.”

warnings: overly considerate peter, scheming reader, fluff and stuff

*

“you’re supposed to be in bed.”

his voice rolls, like a click on a cassette, and you know that peter is not really there.

because it’s all a little blurry. his voice, the door opening, the feeling when he kneels down next to you, his breath hot in your ear.

it’s all some remanent of a dream. a brief moment where you might wake up, but decide not to.

“i’m serious,” his voice ebbs and flows, waving in and out, like your consciousness. “you know i don’t like it when you wait up for me.”

you groan and roll even further into the couch. your face is smushed, and your hair is a mess, sweaty because you’re drowning under every blanket in the house. it smells like cotton, and peter’s deodorant, and potato chips that you probably dropped through the cushions.

you dig your nose in deeper, trying to get back to that dream.

peters probably not actually there, you think, because if he was he would’ve kissed you awake. his hand would be lazily running through your hair, and his body would be pressed against yours. you would be cuddling by now.

real peter is much nicer than dream peter, who shakes your shoulder, albeit massaging you right afterward. “c’mon, bug, we’re going to bed.”

“sleeping,” you mumble, pulling away from him.

dream peter continues to try and wake you up, while you wonder—amidst the dream, no doubt—when real peter will be home. you want to be drowning in his collarbone instead of your own sweat.

there’s a kiss next to your ear. “you’re going to fall through the couch.”

“the couch would never betray me.”

“we’ll see if you’re saying that in the morning, when your neck is bent the wrong way,” he whispers, and rests his head against yours. you feel it as he breathes out, relaxes. almost like he’s purring into your ear.

so you keen into him, a bit awkwardly, considering that it’s his forehead. “why’d you wake me up?”

“you can’t sleep here.”

“c’mere,” you murmur to him, your hand wrapping around the back of his neck, fingertips just brushing his hair. “cuddle with me.”

“being cute isn’t going to stop me from moving you.”

“peter,” you try and push him away, “go to bed.”

“why are you out here?” his nose trails down your hair, to your neck. “it’s almost four in the morning.”

you ponder this, and decide that you don’t really remember what you were doing before you fell asleep here, with your hand shoved in the crook of your neck. “the beds cold,” you slur, head falling back into the cushions as you doze.

“that’s because all of the blankets are out here. why didn’t you turn the heat up?”

he’s playing with some baby hair by your ear now, trying to lull you to sleep, probably, because he loves you.

“i was waiting for you,” you whisper this like a prayer, “and now you’re here.”

“you waited in the wrong spot. i would’ve come to bed with you. there’s no room for me here,” he smiles when you finally turn your head towards him. he’s got a smudge on his nose, and his eyes are sunken in—aged from exhaustion.

“i know.”

you’re both whispering. trying not to wake that drowsy, lovesick part of yourself right now.

“hmm?” he leans into you, nose brushing your cheek. almost like he’s breathing you in. “what, bug?”

“i wanted to fall asleep with you.”

then his eyes are wide open, and he leans back, brows furrowed in a tight line. “i told you i was going out.”

you muse at his confused face, and lean back towards him. “i know. i didn’t know when you’d be home.”

“you could’ve called.”

“i’m not going to interrupt your repertoire with a burglar at midnight. it’s rude.”

“not to me.”

you tsk, and lean away, back into the pillow comforting you while simultaneously scheming to ruin your morning.

“you need more sleep than i do,” peter adds, trying to keep you awake with his sheer willpower, his hands squirm under your shoulders. “we’ve talked about this.”

“no, you threatened to tell my mom—“

“that’s not what i said,” peter interrupts, groaning into the sofa.

“that i wasn’t getting enough sleep. and i said that you could make your own decisions, but that i wasn’t going to stop waiting up for you.”

“it makes me feel bad,” he ignores your gentle protesting. “i don’t want to keep you up.”

“peter, it’s not like you’re out dancing with strippers.”

he laughs, unexpectedly. and you grin back at him, with a sheer conviction undiluted by any hints of remaining sleep.

“you’re up helping people. i don’t mind waiting for you,” you emphasize this by leaning in to kiss his forehead, tasting sweat and not minding at all.

“you’re going to be tired tomorrow. when did you fall asleep?”

you acknowledge your win for what it is, and sit up on the couch, looking around your apartment like you can’t remember where you are. “probably an hour ago. i didn’t know when you’d be home, and i waited a while, but then i moved to the couch so you’d have to wake me up if i fell asleep.”

“so this was an elaborate scheme, huh?” peter laughs at you as his teeth graze your cheek. his chaste kiss makes you warm.

“i learned from the best.”

peter chuckles against you, and the two of you sit like that for a moment. calculating each others breathing like there’s something you might miss, however brief.

and then you smile at him, and he smiles back. “bed?” he asks you, softly, fingertip running against the skin of your jaw. you nod.

his arms wrap around you as he picks you up, your head rested comfortably on his shoulder, legs wrapped around his waist.

“i’m leaving you on the couch next time,” he threatens as he walks, “just so you know.”

“then we’ll both wake up with sore backs. not just you.”

peter snorts. “i didn’t say i would be there.”

“like you can sleep without me.”

he doesn’t say anything to that, but you feel him murmur in your hair suspiciously.

peter sets you down on the bed softly, pushing your legs so you’ll lay down, then covering you with the comforter. he tucks you in like any average middle aged dad.

when you grin he nods, very satisfied with himself.

“i’m just gonna change,” he says, taking a step back.

“hurry. i’m tired.”

“now, look who’s talking,” he shakes his head, but moves swiftly to the bathroom. you hear it as he runs the sink, as he bangs his foot on something and curses, and when he pads back into the bedroom, looking like a young child sneaking out of bed in his pajamas.

you laugh. “where did you get those?”

peter looks down to himself. to the many cartoon styled spider-man’s dancing across his cotton pajama set. “what? this old thing.”

“i don’t think i can be seen in public with you if you’re wearing that.”

“we are in the privacy of our bedroom,” he points out.

“i don’t think i can be in the same room with you if you’re wearing that.”

peter shakes his head, pouting like he’s disappointed, but he slips the shirt off, a concession he’s apparently willing to make.

though you don’t doubt that there are ulterior motives to this move.

“c’mon,” you whine to him, “i’m cold.”

“you’re so needy.”

you roll your eyes, but sink into him as he shuffles from beside you, laying his head near yours. “you’re not coddling me.”

“i’m so very sorry, my dear,” he whispers, and wraps his arms around you.

“shh,” you nuzzle your nose into his neck, and murmur against his hot skin. “i want to go back to the dream i was having.”

peter must be laughing at you, you can tell, even slightly asleep, because something jostles you.

“what was it about?”

you smile against him, listening to his heart like a hymn you’re devoted to. “i’ll tell you in the morning.”

he whispers something, brief, a whisper in the quiet of the room. but you feel the words as he settles into the bed, his calloused hands running over your skin.

and you fall asleep; hands clutching the others heart.

*

[madxyy]

Selfish

| pairing : peter x reader

| summary: your boyfriend comes home injured--as usual--late at night and you can't help but want him safe from his life as spider-man

| warnings: fluff, touching wrists (sigh, again), y/n used once, baby used, peter being cute and angsty as usual, reader also being cute, light angst

author's note: i am trying to write angst so bare with me lol

2 am. 

It’s always when you hear that faint knock on your window that makes all your worries wash away in a split second. But not today, no, today was different. You were waiting all night to hear that thud on the firescape or the cries of the window seal being opened. All night you were absorbed in your own anxieties and worries. Your hopes were dreading as time went by. You were getting scared for the local crime fighting hero and you did everything in your power to take your mind off it.

You really did. 

Drawing, watching tv, listening to music, cleaning the room—which was a bad idea as it just bought you a reminder of the boy who has your heart. You would stumble upon Peter's belongings that were scattered around your shared apartment like confetti: his engineering notes, his sweaters, his latest sketch of a brilliant idea he had to improve his spider-man suit. It only made your heart ache even more, longing for his presence and increasing your worries for your vigilante boyfriend. So you would take another route and try binge-watching a new season of a recent tv show you are watching, which would likely just be collecting dust in the column of ‘continue watching.’

Your mind keeps on going back to him. ‘He’s okay. He’s okay.’ You thought to yourself. ‘He’s coming back to me. He’ll be alright. He’s probably on his way right now. It’s just going to be a scratch, hopefully. He's going to be okay, right? Oh god. Oh god.’ 

As much as you love and adore that your boyfriend is helping the city and its people by saving anyone from another lab experiment gone wrong or from a dangling car that’s about to fall off a bridge, you can't help but wonder if he would ever take care of himself. It’s hard seeing him everytime he comes through your window with a new bruise on his keen jawline, a wound on his ribs, a scar on his hip. You couldn’t deal with it anymore. You wish he stopped just for his own safety. You know it’s selfish but is it so wrong to want him safe? Just the thought of turning on the news and seeing J. Jameson reporting: “Breaking News: Our local friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man reported dead by …” 

You want him back with you already, his arms wrapped around you, drowning you into his warm embrace, so distinctly Peter, while he whispers soft and reassuring words that always mend your heart. You long to hear his random facts about science, see his lopsided smile that always welcomes you back into reality whenever you wake up next to him each morning. You yearn for his contagious laugh that makes your heart throb in delight over the euphonious sound. You want to smile at the tics he does when he gets nervous or the way he avoids eye contact and scratches the back of his neck when he is stuck in an awkward situation. You want him to be back so you can smooch the newly embedded scars that are planted all over his body which you love kissing away everyday when he wakes up. You want to see his dimples that adorn his face when he smiles wide enough because he finally got his web shooters to work, followed by a triumph fist bump to the air. You want to see his eyes, oh his eyes: brown, soft, autumnal, brimming with love and warmth, despite the grief and cruelty he has been absorbed in. His scent, a mix of cedarwood and asphalt (due to his high-flying urban adventures). You want to see the way his hair sticks up in the morning whilst the sun gives it a mixture of honey and bronze aura, running your hands through the mused up tufts of hair, which always leads to the corners of his eyes crinkling up as a sleepy, boyish smile tugs up on his rosy lips. 

Selfish. You can’t help it. 

You waited as long as you could; staring at your window for who knows how long. Your eyes were trained on the window for a good while, but you couldn't help it, all this anxiety finally got to you and you were feeling drained and your posture slumps with exhaustion. Your eyes burn from keeping them open, and soon those same eyes start to slowly droop. Blinking back sleepiness proved futile; your head eventually settled onto the cool silk of your pillow. The material greets your cheek, making it easier for you to be welcomed into slumber. 

It was 4 am, yet your worries haven’t gone down at all. Your eyelids started to grow heavier, and darkness gradually enveloped your senses, until you heard a faint knock on your window, piercing the silence. 

Your heart leapt, and you twisted towards the sound. In an instant, sleep was gone.

Not even a second later you heard your window opening—mm the sound of the cries. Your tired, red eyes snapped open. You were met with a disheveled and drained Peter Parker. His hair sticking to the nape of his neck and forehead, sweat giving him a post-shower appearance. A large laceration marred his chest. Oh. Your stomach dropped, eyes widened with horror at the sight of the injury. It looked like he was scratched -- no, clawed by someone or something. With quick motion, you quickly peel away the sheets, disentangling yourself from its soft embrace, and quickly hurrying to his side.

“Peter” you gasped softly. A hand settles onto his latex-clad one, the other arm wrapping around his waist to support him as you guide both him towards your bed, placing him where you had lain just seconds before. “It’s not that bad, don’t worry about it, seriously, I mean you should see the o-” Peter quickly swallows his words upon seeing your stern glare. He slumps his head downwards as he sighs in defeat. 

You sigh, telling him quietly that you'll be back soon. You left him for a few moments before coming back with a wet rag. Gently, you tug at the suit, trying to cautiously take it off him without aggravating his wounds. Soon, you were met with his bare torso, which is marked with a huge claw mark. You mentally steel yourself before starting to lightly clean around the injury, dabbing the wet rag gently onto his toned chest as you avoid his eyes. It’s not like you were trying to make him feel bad, but you were also trying to cope with the situation. You don’t know if you were mad, relieved, sad, maybe all of the above? Uncertain emotions swirl within you, but one fact anchors your turbulent thoughts: he is here, safe, and alive. That's what truly matters.

Peter seems to catch your avoided gaze, he studies you for a few minutes. Biting the inside of his cheek as he purses his lips to the side, trying to figure out how to approach this situation. He takes in your furrowed eyebrows, the way you’re also biting the inside of your cheek as you put all your strength into avoiding his worried amber eyes. He knew the consequences of inviting someone into his dangerous life, it wasn’t exactly a warm and inviting embrace, nor was it appealing, but what he didn’t fully grasp is how it truly hurts you, in more ways than one.  “Y/N…” he whispered, rough hands that have been through so much and experienced so much, reaching for the comfort of your skin but you gently dodge his touch, leading to a sudden twinge of anguish in his heart. You give him a slight smile to distinguish any suspicion – I mean, you weren’t doing a good job at it – before you continued cleaning the dirt away from his injury. Peter’s eyebrows furrow while his lips start to droop downwards, a frown laid upon his lips at the rejection. 

Biting the inside of your cheek harder to stop the tears from flowing down the curve of your cheekbones. You keep on wiping his cuts clean, overs and overs again, getting flashbacks of his visits from the last time you had to patch him up. Blurred vision starts taking over your eyesight and all you can think about is his pain, what he goes through, his blood, the thought of losing him, life without him, the many ‘what ifs.’ The many times he almost visited death's door. You couldn’t keep it in anymore, it was like a burning sensation bubbling in the back of your throat, the sadness was too hard to keep buried down now. You started shaking and before you knew it your sobs filled the walls and all your fears were coming out of you in the form of a liquid pea that contained so much. As soon as the warm liquid left a path down the curve of your cheeks, peter panicked and rose to action just like the hero he is—your hero. 

Quickly sitting up and fixing his posture, which made him wince slightly from the injuries but he pushed through, his mind set on you and only you. He wipes the tear away with the pad of his thumb and takes the wet rag away from your slightly shaky grip; gently putting it on your nightstand before he lightly reaches both of his hands out and holds onto your wrists.

“I can't” You choke out a sob. 

“Hey shh it’s okay baby, what’s wrong? You can’t, what? Tell me,” He coos. 

He hunches down, trying to find those eyes of yours that he swears are otherworldly, but you just can’t. You can’t see him like this. Hurt. In pain. Suffering. It pains you that he is in this much pain -- you can’t. “Peter I just… ” he gently takes your face in his hand, caressing your cheekbones with his thumbs that are growing wet from your moist cheeks. His heart hurts from the sight of you crying, it conjures a deep-seated throb of pain in his eyes. “Look at me,” he whispers softly, gently nudging your head up with his right hand that is slowly descending down to grasp your chin as if you were a treasure, in a way you are, to peter you are his treasure, the main reason he even gets up or even tries, you are his rock, the only thing that makes sense in his life, and god does he love you, he loves you so much that his heart hurts. A quiet sigh escapes you, it sounds defeated. “Please,” He pleaded oh-so-gently, his gaze unwavering but patient. You sniffle before swallowing down a ball of saliva forming in your throat. As soon as you look up you are met with a pair of almond-shaped umber eyes that are filled with the utmost care, worry, and a hint of guilt. 

“Talk to me..” he whispers desperately, his heart crushing at the pain you are experiencing, he just wants to take it all away with his soft whispers but he knows they will be in vain. Shakingly exhaling “I can’t,” you frantically shake your head. “Please baby…” A few silent beats pass before you finally look back up to find those amber eyes looking back at you with nothing but worry and sincerity. 

You take a deep breath before swallowing deeply ”Peter...I just…” another beat passes. You take a sharp deep breath. “I just really wish you would take more care of yourself, I...I know you love saving people and fighting crime and trust me I love you deeply for that but you come home everyday with a new wound that’s even deadlier than the last one,” You pause, licking your salty lips. “aren’t you worried that maybe those people that you save won’t have anyone to save them if they’re local neighborhood spider-man won’t be there to save them anymore..?” You ask him, almost in a plea. Peter bites the inside of his cheek, thinking over your words with a solemn expression forming on his face that are littered in small cuts from his last escapades. He diverts his gaze to the floor and the room is quickly overcome with silence as he takes in your words, letting the heaviness of your words sink in.

The silence fills the room, it lets you both engulf into your own thoughts. Peter knew what it meant when he finally told you he was the unmasked superhero. He remembers spilling his deadly secret on a rooftop late at night, where you both were admiring the stars, laying on a blanket and talking about anything and everything. He remembers looking over at you and admiring the way the moon was cascading down on you, making you look even more angelic and completely ethereal. 

Peter looks at you hurt and guilty and god do you hate that. Both of you guys shared a gaze that held so much that it made the room feel denser as the distant sounds of ambulances filtered through the slightly open window. A breeze wafts in, brushes against you both, causing small goosebumps to prick up on your skin. Peter grew to learn from his past relationships and the impact it had on his partner knowing he was Spider-Man, which is why it hurts him to know he is the one making you feel like this. A calloused hand slowly creeps up, gently grasping your cheek with the utmost care, as if you were made of glass and he was scared of causing further harm. “I know, I know,” He murmurs, his voice breaking while his toughened fingers absentmindedly traces the curve of your cheek. “It’s just so hard to stop when I know I can make a difference.” 

You swallow the lump in your throat as his words sink in. Your heart breaks knowing how much his words are true and the scary reality that he won’t stop until crime is put to bed and everyone can roam around the streets freely. You shook your head, one hand gently grasping his wrist. “But at what price, Pete?” you ask ever-so-softly like the question itself was forbidden territory. Those eyes that he loves so deeply, look up into his eyes and it causes a gnawing feeling in his chest, almost making him wince from how hurt you look, how scared you look. Peter bites the inside of his cheek a bit harder while furrowing his brows, trying to think of what to tell you because he himself doesn’t know.

He takes a shaky breath, adjusting the grip on your face and slowly pulling your head a bit closer until both of your foreheads are resting against one another, a silent plea for understanding in his eyes. The brush of skin itself was tender-filled, telling a millions of words with just one movement. “I am just sick of all the crimes happening here and the cops not even doing anything about it.” Peter whispered, his voice a low blend of anger and helplessness. You could feel the raggedness of his breath, each exhale a testament to the battles he fought alone in the shadows of the city. The close proximity allowed you to see the subtle tension in his jaw, the way his eyes shuttered as if bracing against a storm of inner conflict. “Peter, I know you care – it’s one of the things I love about you,” you respond gently, reaching up to smooth a stray lock of hair from his clammy forehead. “But you can’t carry this burden alone. It’s too much for one person, even for Spider-Man.” Your voice was a soothing whisper, trying to pierce the armor of duty he wore so steadfastly.  

Peter simply nodded, the weight of the world momentarily lightened by your understanding. You saw the fortress around his heart crumbling, if only just a bit. His eyes, usually so vibrant and full of life, now shimmered with unshed tears, reflecting the constant battle between his duty and his love for you.

“I’m sorry…” Peter’s voice broke through the silence, each word heavy with remorse. He leans forwards, delicately kissing your forehead which grounds you and makes you close your eyes momentarily as you cherish the soft kiss that eases your heart just a bit. “I am sorry for not fully understanding what you are going through. I am so, so sorry,” He whispers into the dark night, the words flowing into the air as gently as ever. A few beats of silence pass while you take in his words. It gave your weary heart time to mend. Peter leaned back slightly so he could get a better look at you, his gaze locked with yours, conveying a depth of sincerity and vulnerability. “I’m truly, deeply, sorry” He whispers once more before he starts to softly press kisses underneath where your ear and jaw meet, your cheeks, forehead, nose, the wrinkles in the middle of your eyebrows, smoothing them out with the pad of his thumb, and finally kissing your lips, so delicately, it makes you want to cry even more. 

The kiss was so deliberate, it was a bundle of promises that his lips sealed to keep, an abundance of love, tenderness, deep affection and care that runs so deeply into his veins that it affects his touches and kisses, he can’t help but pour it all into the kiss, he just wanted you to know how sorry he is. He wanted you to know that he never meant to hurt you, whether it was indirect or direct. It makes your heart flutter and reassures your timid heart. Slowly one hand moves to cup the left side of your face as his other hand descends down towards the side of your neck as peter tastes the saline on your moist-tear lips, but even that doesn’t stop him from pressing gentle kisses against your lips, it only fuels his love, turning the kisses even more tender. Each kiss conveys a message of “I’m sorry, I love you, please know I love you.” You can taste the metallic on his lips as your lips were caressing his back as equally gently and lovingly, your kisses filled with a message of “It’s okay, I love you.” 

Peter slowly pulls back from the kiss, his mouth hovers over yours, his breath fanning over your lips, noses rubbing against each other in the tenderest manner ever. Both of your eyes were still closed, taking in everything, cherishing one another. His right hand moving back up to cradle your face, both hands cradling your cheeks and caressing them with the pad of his thumbs in a feather-like caress. You nuzzle your cheek against his right hand, feeling the rough and calloused palm that you grew to admire and adore. It always provided you with such care and comfort, always caressing or reaching out to gently touch you. Both of your hands now encircled around his wrist, caressing the inside of it so softly that it makes Peter almost melt.

Slowly, Peter opens his eyes. His amber gaze held nothing but love and the utmost care. Shortly after he opened his eyes, your eyes opened as well. Both of you search each other’s eyes as a white noise of admiration passes you both. After a moment of silent communion, the air between you both thickens with unspoken words and shared feelings, Peter finally speaks, his voice a soft murmur against the quiet room. “I can’t promise there won’t be more nights like this,” he says, his honesty laying bare the truth of both of your lives entwined with danger and uncertainty. “But I promise you, no matter how many crazy guys in suits I have to fight, I’ll always do my best to come back… to this, to us.”

This promise, simple yet profound, strikes a chord within you. It’s not a heroic declaration from Spider-Man, but a heartfelt vow from Peter Parker, the boy behind the mask, the one you fell in love with. His words acknowledge the reality of his life—danger is part of the package, yet he’s equally committed to your shared life, to you, and he isn’t going anywhere.

You feel a surge of mixed emotions: fear for the dangers he faces, gratitude for his honesty, and love for the person he is. “And I’ll be here,” you say, matching his tone with a blend of seriousness and affection, “not just to patch you up and be your personal nurse, but to love you.” The corners of his lips quirk up, his eyes twinkling with love as he takes in your words. He leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead, a silent vow of his commitment. “Thank you,” he whispers, gratitude resonating in his voice, “for everything.”

“Of course,” You whispered. 

The two of you stay like that, embraced in the warmth of your love for one another, finding comfort in the silence that now speaks volumes. The world outside, with its chaos and challenges, seems momentarily distant as you both cherish this safe haven of understanding and love you’ve created together.

[biblio-smia]

excuse me, could i get a picture?

pairing: (tasm!) peter parker x gender neutral reader

summary: "hey, i'm a street photographer, could i take your picture?"

masterlist | requests are open!

warning i wrote 80% of this half-asleep

read part two here

Saturdays were reserved for coffees and walks to get breakfast. They were reserved for earbuds in your ears, music blasting as your feet rushed through busy intersections. Although Saturdays were reserved for yourself, that didn't stop New York from moving around you.

"Excuse me!" You thought you heard, but the voice was barely audible over the music in your ears; plus, there was no reason for anyone to be talking to you.

The rush of footsteps behind you made your footfall slow in confusion, and a gentle tap on your shoulder made you spin.

"Sorry," a boy began, and you let him keep speaking as you looked at him.

He was tall, cozy in double jackets with a large camera hanging around his neck. He had brown hair and warm brown eyes to match, looking at you with a polite smile and his phone in his hand, pointing down towards the ground.

"Hi, uh, I'm sorry to bother you," he spoke awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot and doing his best to look at your face. "I'm uh, a photographer -" and the way he said it made you smile, like the word was too serious for an unserious person. "And I was wondering if I could... take photos of you?" He finished with a tilt of his head and a shy smile.

Oh, he was cute.

"Of me?" You ask, sure you'd misheard. Your hands went to pull your earbud out of your ear, only to find that it was already out. Your hand landed on your neck to save yourself from embarrassment.

"Yeah!" His expression brightened at your lack of immediate rejection, eyes more confidently settling on yours with the occasional flicker to the camera hanging around his neck. His head tilted down, expertly? picking up the camera and stepping closer to you while maintaining a respectful distance, showing you strangers on the small screen.

The photos were absolutely beautiful.

"I wanted to focus on natural beauty... the leaves are perfect right now - " His eyes looked up and around as the shades of autumn began to fall around you on the out-of-the-way street you were on, lined with apartments. There was a brightness in his eyes as they fell on you again and you realized he had been talking. " - and you, of course."

"Me?" You asked again, feeling stupidly like an owl, wide-eyed and unbelieving.

"Yeah!" He bit his lip through a smile, a pink blush appearing on his pale cheeks, a nervous shift in his demeanor revealing he was only a few seconds away from backpedaling.

You looked around at the empty street and stepped a little closer with a smile. "Well, since there's no one else, I guess I'll do you the favor," you grinned teasingly.

"Cool. Awesome," he looked down, shaking his head a little. "Is it okay if I film, too?" He motioned to his phone and you nodded with a smile.

You self-consciously tried to touch yourself up as the boy turned his back toward you, setting his his things up. God, you didn't even know his name.

"You never told me your name," you noted softly, not expecting him to perk up at the sound of your voice and turn towards you.

"Oh! It's Peter!" Peter gave you a dopey grin you couldn't help but mirror as you gave him your name in return.

Peter messed with his camera, flickering from the screen to you with his eyebrows furrowed and the tip of his tongue poking out of his lips in concentration.

You weren't sure if the nerves in your stomach were from the camera pointed at you or the boy behind it, but you bit your lip and tried to look anywhere but at Peter.

"I should warn you, I suck at posing," you managed to get out when the silence was almost too much. You weren't sure whether to feel bad about breaking Peter's concentration until he laughed and shook his head.

"You'll be fine."

You weren't certain about that, but Peter's tone and his soft smile made you believe it for a while.

"Okay, for the first one, I think you'd look great right against this door..."

Peter guided you gently with his voice and his motioning hands until the sun hit you perfectly through the thinning leaves, lighting you and the red door you stood against perfectly.

You tried to follow Peter's easygoing instructions of just "acting natural" but the half-smiled he offered and look in his eyes told you weren't getting very far.

"Sorry," you winced, embarrassed for yourself.

"No, no, you don't have to apologize," Peter assured, dropping his camera and approaching you. "Here, just... may I?" Peter looked at you with a gentleness that knocked the words out of your lips. You could only give a small nod and Peter put his hands on you, feather-light touch moving your arms like you were a porcelain doll Peter cared deeply about. His fingers found yours as he positioned your hands and you could only stand there and admire his attention to detail, his mind coming up with a bigger picture you couldn't see quite yet.

"You should model more often," Peter said, stepping back just enough to be out of your personal space - but just close enough for you to see all the beauty marks on his face.

You scoffed. "Yeah, right."

"I'm serious! It'd be a crime if you didn't."

"Maybe I'll just model for you, then," you said rather boldly, turning your head to the side in embarrassment, missing the small smile and twinge of red of Peter's ears at your comment.

"Perfect," Peter muttered and you turned back to see his face partially hidden by his camera - you weren't sure how long he'd been snapping photos for.

You laughed and Peter grinned, fingers pressing buttons rapidly as he held you in light conversation.

There was a permanent warmth in your face you hoped wasn't obvious through the camera, the feeling shielding you from the cool wind blowing around you.

Your focus was only on Peter, listening closely to every word and story he shared with you: his favorite coffee shop in the area, his photography, the people he'd met through it. None of the connections lasted longer than the session and you wondered if it'd be the same for you - if Peter was always this kind to the strangers he took photos of.

After a small shift to the stairs in front of the door you stood in front of and a lot of wondering how many photos of you were filling up Peter's camera, Peter took a seat next to you, his knee bumping yours as he leaned towards you, clicking through pictures.

"Woah..." you said softly, finally seeing the vision Peter had in his head. The scene was set up beautifully, with your fluid movement at its center.

"You like them?" Peter asked hopefully, wishing he could take another picture of the moment.

"I love them!" You exclaimed as Peter continued moving through the dozens of photos, shot after shot of you.

You felt that warm rush of embarrassment again and you placed a gentle hand on Peter's arm.

"Okay, okay," you laughed, looking at Peter's face. Realizing how closely huddled you were.

"You're a great photographer," you uttered softly with a smile to accompany the compliment.

"You're a perfect model," Peter returned just as quickly.

You laughed, shaking your head as Peter tried to argue. "I'm serious!" But the smile on your face was contagious and Peter couldn't help but smile around you.

There was a beep from Peter's phone, still off to the side and recording, and Peter jumped up at the noise.

"I'm so sorry, I have to go," Peter rushed out, grabbing his things and giving you a smile. "I'll text you... send you the photos."

"Yeah!" You nodded, barely able to give him a wave before he was off. Barely able to think about it before realizing he didn't have your number. "Peter!" You called, but he was gone.

「 … 」

Finding Peter on social media was a lot harder than you'd imagined, especially when both of you had stupidly excluded last names from your introductions. All you had was "peter photographer," which evidently didn't count for much.

You gave up that same day and it wasn't until two weeks later and the help of your friend that you found him again.

The video you were sent was it: Peter walking up to you for the first time, the two of you talking, you posing, the two of you reacting to the photos and finally, the photos themselves. They were just as beautiful as you remembered.

The clips themselves were short, only a few highlights of your conversation in the video; times where you made Peter laugh, or the other way around.

In retrospect, the words exchanged between you and Peter with charged with some other than just friendly, polite conversation and you really wondered now if it was all just in your head.

Although that worry diminished with a look at the caption of Peter's video.

watch me shamelessly flirt for a minute and a half

A stupid smile spread on your face at the handful of words and your first instinct was to check the comments.

"they're so into each other omfg" "they flirt so much and a majority of their convo was probably cut out........" "peter please tell us you got an @" Now this one had a reply from Peter himself.

"no i had to leave in a rush and didn't realize i had no method of contact until later :(" "PETER YOU FUMBLED" "NOOOOOO"

There were more cries of disbelief in response to Peter with even more calls of action to find you.

"Oh, my god," you whispered, fingers moving quickly and your heart beating just as fast as you swiped to Peter's profile and hopefully... yes! His Instagram was linked.

You followed him instantly, clicking on the Message button before hesitating. Would he recognize you? Would he even respond? What should you say?

You bit your lip and drafted a few messages, typing and deleting and pacing until you settled on a message.

"hey. it's me from kips bay! i saw ur tiktok :)"

Send.

You threw your phone across your bed immediately, nerves settling in now that you had nothing to do but wait. You didn't have to consider unsending the message for too long when you phone dinged.

"ppparker: Oh my god hi" "ppparker: Sorry i can't believe i actually found you" "ppparker: Hi :)"

[angstylittleb1tch]

Rain, Rain go away

Tasm!Peter Parker Imagine

Am I magically respawning after so long of being dead? No.......absolutely yes. Anyways here's a random Tasm!Peter Parker Imagine I had cooked up in my notes for a while, hope you guys like it, byeeee.

Peter parker hates the way rain ruins everything.

He hates how cold and sticky he feels when it rains. How the benches in his favorite park get wet and dirty. How he accidentally steps in multiple puddles of water while rushing to college. How his clothes get drenched running home when he forgets to bring an umbrella to the lab on unfortunate rainy days. How he has to wash his hair 3 times to get rid of the icky feeling rain leaves behind.

He hates how crimes rates always start to spike up in his neighborhood during the rainy days. He loathes having to sit in his bathroom and wash his now dirty AND wet spider suit. He hates how his heater magically breaks down everytime its raining leaving him freezing and irritated.

He absolutely despises the cold he catches everytime it rains because all the bad guys in town have made a pact to gang up on him in the middle of an intense rain shower when all he wants is to go home and sleep until he dies. He hates how cold his hands and feet become by the time he gets home and how it doesn't seem to go away.

Peter groans on and on about hating getting sick, sneezing everywhere and having a slight fever barely a day before huge projects that somehow always make up 60% of his grade. Even though he completely aces them dispite having a terrible fever the next day.

He hates the melancholy atmosphere and the patter of raindrops on his window keeping him awake most nights. He hates the smell of the earth mixing in with his morning coffee. It leaves a bitter taste on his tongue.

All in all, Peter parker hates the rain, yes. But he can't help the grin on his face when he finds you pulling him in to dance in the middle of the raining street with pure and un- adulterated love in your eyes. He absolutely loves the way you laugh and smile at him, your hands wrapped tight behind his neck and his on your waist, gently pulling you in. He adores the little blush you sport when he leans down to smother your face in light kisses as the rain falls coloring you both in its various shades. He loves watching your heart melt at the small 'I love you's' that spill out of his mouth as he spins you around blissfully unaware of the rain.

Because Peter loves the rain if it means he gets to hold you through it all and kiss you breathless till he forgets he ever hated it in the first place.

[parkerpeter24]

Sending in req, wedding anniversary w/ peter can be smut or not but a lot of fluff <3

OKAY I LOVE THE IDEA thanks so much for sending this in 🤍 i tried my best idk why my writing feels a bit rusty and this isn’t that long 🥸🤧 also i accidentally made this pre-wedding anniversary 😭

pairing ➳ peter parker x reader

requests are open

masterlist

the remnants of last night flooded your mind, leaving a wide smile covering your face as soon as you woke up. peter’s arm were wrapped firmly around you but he shuffled when he heard the change in your pattern of breathing.

you turned around in his arms and he pulled you closer, “g’morning, boyfriend. happy anniversary.”

you watched with partly closed eyelids as peter’s eyebrows furrowed, lips downturned, “i’m your fiancé!”

“right. i know.” you chuckled as he nudged his nose against yours. peter, your boyfriend since four years, had finally proposed to you one night before your anniversary, and despite him being the worst at secret-keeping, this one was exceptionally well kept. but knowing peter, you would have expected something like that from him anyway.

“why’d you say boyfriend?” he asked.

“you know, it was fun being your girlfriend. it’s like an end of an era.” you shrugged, getting up finally to start the day.

peter shook his head, “happy anniversary, fiancé.”

the two of you made breakfast together, stealing kisses every once in a while as you worked around the kitchen in co-ordination. peter cut up some strawberries while you baked pancakes.

“we should run to the grocery store later.” you stated as the two of you sat down at the dining table, besides instead of sitting across each other.

“why?” peter asked.

“there’s basically nothing left in the fridge.” you said before dipping your spoon in the nutella jar and pulling out a flood of the chocolate spread, covering your pancake in it.

“whoa! easy there, willy wonka.” peter teased, making you laugh.

“it’s alright. not like i’ve gotta maintain a figure, i got a boyfriend.”

peter’s face, once more turned sour with distaste. not from your pancakes but from what you’d just said, “i’m your fiancé.”

“yes, i’ve got a fiancé.” you gave him a grin before taking a bite from your stack of pancakes.

the two of you took a trip down to the grocery store around noon. peter gathered all the items from your list while you were busy exploring the snacks section, finally deciding on a few packs of readymade popcorn for your movie night later and some reese’s peanut butter cups.

on your way out from the store, you stumbled into your neighbour, mj. she noticed the ring immediately and her eyes widened in excitement.

peter realised you two hadn’t told anyone about your engagement. peter noticed the look of confusion over your face as mj congratulated you.

the brunette took your hand in his, pulling it up to your eye level so you could see the beautiful ring sitting on your ring finger, “fiancé.” he mouthed to you.

“oh! thanks a lot, mj.” you smiled at the kind girl.

you were sitting on the couch, legs stretched to rest over the coffee table as you waited for peter to bring the snacks out. the first scene of the movie you two had mutually agreed upon– after a long, long conversation over how star wars is better than rom coms– was paused over the screen as you tapped away on your mobile phone.

you were talking to gwen, telling her the whole thing since she wanted every little detail about how peter proposed to you. you sent her the last text as peter settled beside you, leaving against your shoulder, “watcha doin’?”

“nothing, just telling gwen about my fiancé.” you emphasized on the word.

“finally!” peter cheered, making you laugh as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

the two of you cuddled on the couch as you started ‘the proposal’.

not to your surprise, peter was straddling your hips as the end credits rolled. his hands, warm under your t-shirt, travelled up, pulling the fabric along with them.

your tongue worked its way past your lover’s lips, exploring his mouth. your hand travelled to the nape of his neck, playing with the soft curls as he pulled away for breath. his lips attached to your jaw, leaving a trail of kisses in their wake, then over your neck. you felt him gently bite the skin over your sensitive spot, making you gasp, “peter! no teasing.”

peter pulled away to look you in the eye, giving you a smug look “what? i just wanna make sweet love to my girlfriend.”

“fiancé!” you scolded before sealing the gap between you two once more.

[mrshipsmcgee]

Golden beams of sunlight peek through the drapes, the warmth of a new dawn dancing across your face - the sounds of the insomnolent city wake you.

Quiet snores cause a smile to spread across your face as you turn to the beautiful man sleeping beside you, his cheeks squished against the pillow underneath his head, his hair wild. Despite the box fan being directly pointed at him, sweat beads lay across his forehead like a crown.

A human space heater, that man.

“Peter,” you breathe, your fingertips caressing his warm cheek before planting a tender kiss on the tip of his perfect nose.

He stirs, inhaling sharply as his eyes blink open - those honey eyes sleepily staring back at you through squinted lids.

He smiles, still blinking away sleep, “Morning, bug.” Peter’s voice is scratchy and deep.

God, you loved his morning voice.

“Good morning,” you say as Peter’s strong arms quickly snake around your waist, pulling you into his warm and sweaty chest.

“C’mere, it’s a Saturday morning - I’m not moving,” the bass of his voice vibrates against your cheek now pressed against his sternum. “I’m not going anywhere, especially because I have such a beautiful human in my arms.”

“Beautiful human?” You retort, pulling back from his embrace to look up at him - his eyes golden from the sunlight pouring into the room. A wide smile spreads across his handsome face as he giggles, shyly hiding his face in the pillow, kicking his leg over you and resting it on your hip, pulling you back into him.

“We should get breakfast delivered,” Peter says. “We should stay here all day, right here in this bed.”

“No Spiderman Delivery Service?” You ask, still wrapped in his arms. “He’s the fastest this side of town.”

“No no, Spider-Man is sleeping,” he says as he rolls himself on top of you.

“Ah,” you say, squished underneath the weight of Peter. “Well, I guess I’m just stuck here then.”

“Oh, I’ll stick you with something,” Peter smiles as he lazily ruts his hips against you.

“Peter Parker!”

Peter lets out a laugh, “oh, don’t Peter Parker me - I know you want this.”

“I do,” you smile.

“Yeah, you do,” he nuzzled his face into your chest.

—-

A/N: I don’t know what this is LOL I just felt inspired this morning. It may suck, but who cares because fanfiction is supposed to be fun :)

Anywho -

Happy Saturday! Love you guys <3

- Cait

[flightlessangelwings]

Us Against the World

Tasm!Peter Parker x gn!reader

Word count- 4.4k

Dialogue prompt- “ hey! why don’t you try picking on someone your own size! “ Action prompt- [ DISTRACT ]: sender causes a distraction to draw the receiver’s attacker/s away from them.

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY), action, protective!Peter, food mention (reader makes salsa), Peter lifts reader, attempted harm to reader, the villain uses gas and chemistry to attack and reader is described as being trapped in a cloud at one point, reader interacts with kids briefly, no use of y/n

Notes- This month’s Year of Protectiveness is in honor of Andrew Garfield's birthday! I can't believe we're in August already! @yearofcreation2023 But this one was alot of fun to write so I hope y'all enjoy it! And I wrote it so that it could be read in the same timeline as Just Kiss Like Real People Do so if you liked that one, here is more with that pair but of course it could be read on its own! I"ll link it in the taglist rb if you want a refersher!

@flightlessangelwings-updatesis my update blog so feel free to also follow that and turn on post notifs!

~

The city lights illuminated the way as Peter swung through the tall buildings of New York. The air was crisp so high up, and it felt refreshing after a long night of being Spider-Man. He wasn’t sure what time it was, but he knew it was late… well after midnight. And even though the villain he was chasing got away… again… all Peter looked forward to was coming home to you.

Peter expected you to be sound asleep in the tiny apartment, so he was surprised when the light from the widow shined like a beacon calling him back. His heart pounded in his chest and he hoped you were alright as he flipped his wrist to shoot a web towards the building and hurled himself into the window. Letting out a heavy breath, Peter ripped off the Spider-Man mask and closed the window behind him.

Just as he was about to call out your name, the sound of the blender filled the space. That combined with the intoxicating aroma of the spices and tomatoes told Peter exactly what you were doing. His stomach growled as he stepped out of the tiny bedroom and into the living space where you were occupied at the kitchen counter. 

He stood in the doorway for a moment and just watched you with a lovestruck expression on his face. Every time he saw you it was like the first time, and even dressed down in a t-shirt and shorts, you looked stunning to him. You were too consumed with putting the last touches on your salsa that you didn’t hear him come in. But, Peter enjoyed the view for the time being and his heart skipped a beat in his chest with the overwhelming emotions he felt towards you.

But, when you let out a startled yelp, Peter quickly jumped into action. 

You had turned around and were surprised when you saw him standing there. So surprised that you almost dropped the blender that held the salsa you had worked so hard on. But Peter was quick, and in a flash he jumped across the room and caught it before it hit the floor and splattered everywhere.

“Peter!” you exclaimed, “You scared the shit out of me! I didn’t hear you come in!”

“Sorry sweetheart,” he mumbled sheepishly as he set the blender on the counter, licking a drop that splashed onto his fingers after, “Wouldn’t want to waste any of your famous salsa,” he laughed softly, “But why are you up? It’s 3 in the morning.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you shrugged as you eyed him up and down. Ever since you found out that Peter Parker, your best friend, the person you had been in love with for years, was Spider-Man, it never got old seeing him in the suit. His long, toned arms, muscular body and especially the messy hair took your breath away every time.

“Everything alright?” Peter asked, concern lining his tone as he peeled the top half of the suit off and stepped closer towards you. 

“Fine,” you fidgeted as you felt your skin heat up under his gaze as your eyes dropped down to the floor, “Just thought you’d be hungry when you got back…” your voice sounded distant.

Peter looked at you with a softness and adoration in his eyes as he reached out and cupped your face, gently pulling you to look at him, “You know I know when you’re lying to me, right?” his voice was soft as his thumb brushed your cheek.

You let out a shaky breath as his eyes locked with yours, “I…” you trembled in under his hand, “I was worried…” you admitted.

“Baby,” Peter rested his free hand on your waist, holding you in his special way, “I’m fine, honestly. You know nothing would ever keep me from coming back to you, right?” he exhaled deeply, “I promise,” he took a breath, “You and me, remember?”

Tears filled the corners of your eyes at the sincerity in his voice and the confident look in his face. You knew he had been Spider-Man for a long time now, he had his powers and he knew what he was doing. Yet, you’d never loved anyone as much as you loved Peter, and sometimes you couldn’t help but worry as your mind went to the worst possible scenario. 

“I know,” you breathed. You opened your mouth to say more, but the words were caught in your throat as Peter reeled forward and kissed you deeply. Somehow, you were sure he knew what you were going to say, how much you worried for him. He said it in his kiss. 

“Sweetheart,” Peter mumbled between kisses as he backed you up against the counter, “As much as I love your salsa…” his voice dropped and his eyes darkened, “There’s something else I want right now…”

“Peter!” you couldn’t help but laugh at his insinuation, but you also felt a pulse of need through your body. You clung to his shoulders as your mind swam and your body warmed.

He let out a soft chuckle as his hands roamed up and down your sides, savoring the feeling of you under his touch. As much as it was a comfort to you to feel Peter’s hands on you, to feel his touch, it was just as much a comfort for him to know you were here and safe. Peter’s cock twitched as his hands dipped under the waistband of your shorts and in a flash he yanked them off of you, causing you to yelp in surprise.

But, before you could react to your shorts and underwear suddenly on the floor, you found yourself hoisted up onto the kitchen counter. Giggles erupted between you as Peter nestled himself between your legs… your bare legs. A low groan unlike anything you ever heard rumbled from deep in Peter’s throat as his eyes landed between your legs.

“Fuck…” he breathed heavily in a tone that made you shiver.

“Pete,” you sighed as you watched him drop down to his knees.

Immediately, you buried your hands in his hair as his hands ghosted along your inner thighs. Peter mumbled your name in a praise before he licked his lips and dove into you, causing you to scream loudly.

You saw stars as Peter worked you with his tongue, licking and slurping every sensitive spot with precision. You could tell even in your blissed out state that he was too desperate to tease you and take it slow tonight. Tonight was all about need; it was the need for both of you to know the other was here.

Tugging at his hair, you felt like your body was on fire from the way he worked you with his talented mouth. Every flick of his tongue sent waves of pleasure up your spine, and you were sure you weren’t going to last much longer. You arched your back as parted your legs more to give Peter more access to your body, an invitation that he immediately accepted. 

“Shit… Pete…” you moaned as you felt your body tingle.

Peter grabbed your inner thighs and squeezed hard as he intensified his motions, determined to push you over the edge in bliss. And from the way you screamed his name, he knew you were close.

It only took a few more licks of his tongue, a few more nibbles of his lips, one last nuzzle of his head before you came hard. Your head slammed against the cabinet as you screamed, your legs trembling under his strong grip as you gushed into his mouth. Tears formed in the corners of your eyes as bursts of color clouded your vision.

As Peter coaxed you down from you high, you felt his movements slow before he reluctantly broke away from you. A trail of spit connected the two of you until he moved far enough for it to break, but in the corner of his mouth remained a shiny dribble of your release. Peter watched until you opened your eyes to lick it clean with a satisfied smirk on his face.

“Delicious,” he chuckled as he rose to his feet and wrapped his arms around you, “But I’m not done with you yet,” he tone dropped as he easily picked you up and spun you around.

“Pete!” you yelped as you wrapped your arms and legs around his strong body. No matter how many times he lifted you up, you never quite got used to his super strength, and it caught you off guard in the most wonderful way every time.

He quickly made his way across the small apartment and gently lowered you down onto the bed, handing you with tender care as he did so. Peter stood for a moment and admired the sight of you, spread out on the bed, naked from the waist down and a look of pure bliss on your face. Hastily, he ripped off his Spider-Man suit so he was bare for you, and the way you eyed him hungrily made his cock stiffen even more.

“Like the view, sweetheart?” he asked with a cocky grin.

“Very much,” you purred as you bit your lip and extended your arms for him. You loved when he got like this.

“I do too,” his tone matched yours as he hovered over you, “But,” Peter grabbed your shirt, “You’re overdressed.”

You burst into laughter at his antics and allowed him to take off your shirt, the only barrier between your bodies. The two of you let out matching gasps at the sight of the other, as if it was the first time all over again. At times, it felt like that for both of you. The wonder, the passion, the desire never got old so matter how many times you slept together.

“I love you,” Peter broke the silence with a breathless voice as he cupped your face.

“I love you too,” you replied in a dreamy tone as you mirrored his action.

In a flash, Peter closed the gap between your bodies with a heated and desperate kiss. He swallowed the moan you let out as you parted your lips for him once more. The taste of yourself on Peter’s tongue was just as intoxicating for you as it was for him, and you bucked your hips against his hardened cock in a wordless plea.

Without breaking away, Peter muffled a moan as he positioned himself between your legs once more, this time with his cock poking at your entrance. Slowly, he pushed himself into you, past the first ring of muscle and into your warmth to connect your bodies together.

The moan you let out made you break away from the kiss, and your cry of pleasure echoed in the tiny room as Peter entered you inch by slow inch. You heard Peter’s own moans as he felt you engulf him, and he rested his forehead against yours as he slowly bottomed out inside of you.

Together, the two of you laid with Peter on top of you. Heavy breaths filled the room as you stayed with your sweaty foreheads pressed together. You wrapped your arms around him and dug your nails into his shoulders, clinging to him desperately.

“Move,” you pleaded softly.

He groaned your name and compiled without another word. He started slowly at first, rocking in and out of you, savoring the moans and groans you let out every time he was fully sheathed inside you. It wasn’t until you let out a higher pitched cry that Peter picked up his pace; he found what he was looking for.

“You feel so good, sweetheart,” Peter moaned, “Shit…”

The bed creaked as Peter thrust in and out of you faster and faster. As much as he wanted to keep his eyes open, to watch every expression you made when he was inside you, he couldn’t. He knew he would cum too fast if he watched the way your mouth hung open and your body bounced with his every move.

But luckily for him, you also weren’t far behind.

“Fuck!” you screamed as you dug your nails into Peter’s skin, “I’m gonna cum… Peter…”

“Me too baby,” Peter grunted, “Fuck…”

Peter’s thrusts became fast and erratic as he chased his climax as well as your own. He pounded into you with fervor as you screamed and your second climax hit suddenly. Your inner muscles clenched around him as you squeezed him inside and out. That and your beautiful screams were just the final push Peter needed for his own orgasm, and with a loud moan of your name, he came deep inside you. But, he kept going, wanting to savor every second of your shared climaxes together until he couldn’t hold himself up any longer. 

Peter let out a deep exhale as he collapsed down on top of you. Immediately, you wrapped your arms around him, holding him as close as you could. Neither of you wanted to move, content to stay in the other’s embrace, safe and loved. For several long moments, no one spoke, and just the sound of slow, deep breaths filled the room as you felt the other’s heart pound against your bodies.

It was Peter who broke the silence first with your name in a low voice.

“Hmm?” you hummed as you ran your hand through his hair.

“You know I’ll always come back to you, right?” Peter said as he propped himself up on his elbows to look into your eyes.

Your heart fluttered in your chest, “I know,” you cupped his face the same way he did yours earlier, “I trust you… I just worry sometimes,” you admitted.

“I do too,” Peter breathed, “But I’ll always keep you safe, sweetheart.”

The truth was Peter always worried about you too. He was scared that someday someone would find out his superhero alter and use you against him. He was scared that one day you would get hurt because of him. He was scared that one day he might not get back to you in time… But, as much as you trusted him, Peter had to trust you too. Having no one else, it was just the two of you against the world.

“I’m gonna go shower then we can sleep in tomorrow,” Peter broke himself from his thoughts, “How does that sound?”

“Perfect,” you purred as you gave him a chaste kiss on the lips, “A day at home together sounds like just what we both need. But remember, the day after is that science museum day I wanted to go to.”

Peter let out a soft laugh as he tapped your face playfully, “I wouldn’t miss it, baby.”

*

“Looks like we came on a school field trip day,” you commented as you and Peter walked hand in hand into the science museum.

Children filled the space and chattered excitedly among themselves. The two of you followed close behind the class as you lost yourself in the exhibits. At one point, you broke away from Peter so you could play with one of the hands-on displays, and he couldn’t help but chuckle brightly at you as you were just as excited as the kids were.

As Peter watched you, a thought popped into his head: he was ready to marry you. He had never been more in love with you than he was at that moment as you laughed in fascination at the exhibit. He wanted to marry you for some time, but as he stared stupidly at you, Peter knew it was time for him to pop the question.

“Hey Pete…?” your voice broke him from his thoughts.

Peter suddenly found himself face to face with you, and he must have zoned out for a moment because you looked concerned, “Yeah?” he asked as he cleared his throat and tried not to look conspicuous. 

“Everything ok?” you asked as you tilted your head to the side a bit.

Peter just smiled back at you; you had no idea what he had in store for you, “Perfect,” he slid his hand in yours again, “Shall we check out that chemistry demonstration?” his tone was light, “You look like you’re having more fun than the kids are,” Peter joked.

“Shut up,” you giggled as you playfully nudged him.

Peter imagined that your hand would feel like with a ring on your finger as he fiddled with your knuckles. Yes, it was time, and everything was perfect. But, just as it felt like nothing could bring down his mood, a chill ran up Peter’s spine and he was suddenly filled with a sense of dread the moment the two of you crossed the threshold into the other room where the chemistry table was set up.

He stopped dead in his tracks as his heart sank and the hairs on his neck and arms stood up. The man behind the table was instantly recognizable to him; he was the one that kept slipping out of his grasp. And the feeling of dread was only made worse when the chemist looked up from his table and made direct eye contact with him.

It was like he knew.

“Peter?” you sounded even more worried than before as you tugged his arm.

Without a word, Peter dragged you out of the room and down the hallway towards the bathrooms. His heart pounded in his chest as his first thought was of keeping you safe and getting you out of harm’s way.

“Peter?!” you repeated more forcefully, “What’s going on?”

“Listen to me,” Peter grabbed your shoulders and spun you to look him in the eyes, “That guy… He’s…” he let out an exasperated sigh, “He’s the guy I haven’t been able to catch,” he finished in a hushed tone.

You gasped as your eyes went wide.

“I think he knows who I am too. Something just feels off,” Peter sounded more scared than you’d ever heard him before, “But I want you to get out of here, I’m going to stop him here and now.”

“What about those kids?” you asked as your breath came out fast and ragged, “We have to get everyone else out too,” you inhaled deeply, “Let me help you, Pete.”

His lips tightened as he paused for a moment before he spoke with a heavy exhale, “I’m going to create a distraction, and you help them out,” Peter’s grip on your shoulders tightend, “But you promise me you’ll get yourself out of here.”

You nodded, swallowing your fear, “What kind of distraction were you thinking?”

At the same time, both your heads turned and both your eyes landed on the fire alarm that stood out on the wall. You looked back at Peter and he nodded at you, knowing exactly what you were thinking.

“I love you.” Peter’s words sounded more like an assurance than a confession.

You knew what he meant too: Stay safe.

In a flash, Peter pulled the fire alarm before he rushed around the corner to rip his shirt off, revealing the spider suit underneath. At the same time, you ran towards the children, who you headed screaming and panicking before you even reached the room.

“Quickly!” you shouted, “Outside! Now!”

The kids scrambled as they rushed towards the door and you ushered them out. But, as you did that, a movement from the front of the room caught your attention.

The chemist dissolved into a fit of rage, and you heard his angry mumbles to himself even over the fire alarm. Smoke billowed out from either side of him as he mixed his viles together and for a brief moment, he looked up and caught your gaze.

Everything felt like it froze as you locked eyes with him, and suddenly you knew what Peter felt. It felt like this man looked into your soul and read your deepest secrets. Your blood ran cold and fear pulsed through your veins as he suddenly launched himself at you.

You yelped and covered your head, anticipating an impact, but it never came. Looking up, you saw Spider-Man clinging to the ceiling, a shot of web tangling with the chemist and stopping him in his tracks.

“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” Spider-Man quipped as he flung another web shot at him and flipped over to stand in front of you.

“Spider-Man…” the chemist growled as he threw a bottle towards him.

Peter quickly covered you, protecting you from the impact as well as the few kids who still hadn’t gotten out. 

“Spider-Man!” They cheered together as they kept for joy- and relief- at seeing their favorite hero.

“Get out of here kids!” Peter instructed before he glanced at you for a moment. The two of you nodded subtly before he turned back to the chemist and launched himself at him.

“Come on,” you breathed, “Hurry!”

You pushed the rest of the kids out of the room, but before you yourself exited, you couldn’t help but look back. Deep down, you knew Peter put himself in danger as Spider-Man, but to actually see him fight in person, and so close, was something else. You felt fear, but not for yourself. Watching him take and deliver hit after hit honestly scared you. 

But you suddenly had something else to worry about.

“You!” The chemist roared as he gathered his concoctions.

“No!” Peter sounded more scared than you had ever heard him before.

Clearly, it was obvious to the chemist how important you were to Spider-Man, to Peter, and he took advantage of the opportunity. Before either of you could react, he threw something at you, and you found yourself surrounded by a blinding gas. 

You gasped as you covered your mouth and dropped to the floor. Faintly, you heard the grunts of Peter fighting him still, but you couldn’t see anything. You were sure if it was from the gas or just from the adrenaline but you felt more and more dizzy the longer you stayed in the fog.

I’m another flash, you heard an explosion and the building shook. You struggled to keep from falling completely flat on the floor and you scrambled to stay on your hands and knees, ready for anything. 

You heard your name in Peter’s voice before you saw his silhouette appear in the fog. You tried to call out his name, but your voice croaked. Reaching out for him your hand trembled until it finally made contact with his.

“I’m here,” Peter murmured to you as he yanked you close, “Cover your mouth and hang on,” his voice trembled, “I’m getting you out of here.”

All you could do was nod as you felt yourself lifted into his arms with his super strength. You covered your mouth as you clung to him with your other arm. A gust of air hit your face as you found yourself flung through the air as Peter flipped and flung your bodies out of the museum. Faintly, you both heard the kids cheering for Spider-Man and shouting excitedly. Usually, Peter would have stopped for them, but right now his first priority was you and your safety.

You buried your head in the crook of his neck as you felt the air get fresher and fresher as he fwiped through the buildings and landed you both in an empty skyscraper far away from everyone.

The moment he sat you down, Peter ripped off his mask and looked you over, cupping your face as he did so. “Look at me,” he sounded breathless, “Are you hurt?”

You immediately saw the look of pure fear on his face, and it made your heart sink. You were sure you looked a mess, and you felt sore but you didn’t feel hurt. “I’m ok,” you whispered. 

Peter exhaled your name in relief as he gathered you in his arms. “You’re ok, sweetheart,” he cupped the back of your head as he held you as close and as tight as he could, “You’re ok…”

You weren’t sure if his words were for you or for himself. Perhaps both.

“I’m ok Pete,” you whispered softly in his ear as you clung to him, feeling safe in his arms. All the fear and adrenaline slowly faded away and you felt calm and safe the longer he held you. With one deep exhale, you felt better and you pulled away just enough to look into his eyes while still remaining secure in his arms, “Did you really have to wait and pull a dramatic rescue like that?” you smirked softly.

Peter rolled his eyes at you, but at the same time he was relieved to hear you say that; it meant you were back to normal with your wits about you, “Sweetheart…” he breathed. The truth was he had never been more scared, especially with the explosion. He opened his mouth to voice that, but the words were caught in his throat. Peter grimaced at the thought of losing you and a tear formed in the corner of his eye.

Sensing the change in tone, you tried to distract him, “Hey Pete?” you asked.

“Hmm?”

“What happened… To…?”

His grip on you tightened, “I think the mixtures he was using affected his mind… Made him so angry… He…Umm,” Peter trailed off, not wanting to say it out loud and upset you.

“Oh,” you whispered, unsure of what to say next. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for several moments as the breeze hit your faces. “Well, thank you,” you broke the silence, “For saving me.”

That brought a smile to Peter’s face. He leaned in and kissed you deeply, expressing all his emotions in the kiss instead of with his words, “You never have to thank me, honey,” he murmured against your lips as he placed a chaste kiss, “I’ll always protect you.”

You grinned against his cheek as your eyes fluttered closed, “And I’ll always take care of you too,” you hummed, “We made a good team back there though, didn’t we?”

“We did,” Peter chuffed, “You and me…”

“Against the world,” you finished the thought.

Silence fell over the two of you again, but before either of you could say anything, a growl from your stomach interrupted. You looked at Peter and both of you burst into laughter.

“I guess all that excitement made me hungry,” you chuckled.

“How about we get out of here then?” Peter said with a smirk, “I know a place that’s got the best salsa. We’ll pick up some tacos or something on the way too.”

You smiled brightly at him, “Sounds perfect…” you poked his chest, “Spider-Man.”

Peter felt his heart flutter in his chest. Oh yes, he definitely was going to find you the best ring he could and he was going to ask you to marry him as soon as possible. 

[literaila]

hey v ! what about peter and reader getting ready to go somewhere and after reader puts on some red lipstick peter can't stop kissing her ?

lipstick

warnings: ugh, peter

*

“how many times have you done that?”

peter is standing behind you, leaning against the wall, probably ruining your focus, or your makeup, or your sanity. he’s probably staring just to mess with you.

you refrain from smiling in the mirror. wipe a smudge with your nail. “i don’t know, peter,” you meet his eyes, and his nefarious smirk. “how many times have you watched me do it?”

“i got lost somewhere around the first time.”

you laugh at him, crumbling the napkin you’ve been using, now filled with kiss marks, and turning it around so you can throw it at peter. “are you sick?” you ask him.

instead of answering, he licks his lip and unfolds the napkin, staring at the red marks, creases and tireless efforts arranged in a messy pattern. “this is like art.”

“why are you acting like you’ve never seen anyone wear lipstick before?”

“what?” he asks, hand to his chest. “i cant watch you get ready? i’m banned from being in the bathroom when you are?”

“yes, and yes.”

it does not escape your notice when peter tucks the napkin into his pocket for safekeeping.

he shrugs. “i don’t mind breaking the rules.”

you scoff at him and pat his shoulder as you walk past him through the doorway. “i would’ve locked you out if i knew you were going to be weird about it.”

“weird? how am i being weird?”

“you were lurking. you’re still lurking.”

“i’m talking to my girlfriend. that’s part of our contract.”

“you’re following me.”

peter smiles. “well, i like you.”

you roll your eyes, almost—almost—smiling when you feel his arms wrap around your waist. “please don’t make me argue about your stalker like tendencies.”

“we don’t have to argue,” peter says, kissing the space beneath your ear. his breath is hot.

“i need to put my shoes on, peter.”

he smiles, his teeth clashing against your skin like a dreadful reminder. some type of jumpscare—minus the fact that you merely lean into him, sans jumping. “we can spare fifteen minutes.”

“how can you be thinking about anything besides the fact that we’re already late to meet may?”

he nibbles on the skin by your collarbone, then licks it, as reprieve. “it must be the lipstick.”

“you’ve literally seen me with lipstick before. i wore some on our first date.”

“‘s probably why i like it so much.”

his lips are needy as they crawl around your skin. his hands are stationary, but they pose their own threat as they lurk.

“peter, we have to go.”

“i’m not known for my punctuality,” he spins you around, his lips curled in mischief, “you know.”

“i’m aware.”

you refuse to indulge him. your brows furrow, your hands held in the air—just so you can avoid accidentally touching him. purposefully.

“then why are you so worried?” peter asks, kissing your cheek.

“i’m not kissing you,” you say, instead of answering.

“you’re not?” peter pouts like a child. he is far too grown.

“no.”

“how come?”

you try to pull away from him, but, shockingly, peter is stronger than you are. your will is weak. “you’re going to smudge my lipstick. i just finished.”

“you have more, don’t you?”

“not the point.”

“what?” he asks, his voice so serious and teasing. “you don’t want to kiss me?”

“no, i do not.”

you look away from him, admiring a wall that has always been there.

“are you sure?” peter asks, ducking so he can catch your eyes again, because he is nothing if not cruel.

you break, pouting. “peter,” you whine, “we’re not going to be late again.”

“i think we are.”

“you can kiss me when we get home later,” you promise, trying again to wiggle out of his grasp.

“that is a terrible compromise.”

“you won’t compromise,” you snap back. “what else am i supposed to do?”

peter grins, tilting his head. “okay. i have an idea. how about i kiss you, and then we leave? you don’t even have to kiss back, even though we’d both prefer it that way.”

“i’ll kiss you,” you mock him. “you’re the worst negotiator i’ve ever met.”

“then how come we haven’t left yet?”

you scowl at him, and he scowls back, but his eyes are alight.

your skin is ravenous with an ache to touch him, he’s so close that kissing him would be nothing—merely breathing, really—but you don’t want to lose this game to peter. and you dont want him to stop looking at you.

he pretends to check a watch. “hmm, it’s getting awfully late.”

“are you british all of the sudden?”

peter grins, biting his lip before he tries to bite you. you lean away. “if you like my accent, all you have to do is say so.”

“i like it when you get out of my way, and stop trying to sabotage me. i like that a lot.”

“no clue what you mean, dear.”

you roll your eyes and manage to cross your arms in his hold.

“i wonder how we could solve this,” peter muses, tapping his finger on your waist. “it’s a big problem.”

“i could leave you behind and have lunch with may myself.”

“that’s one option.”

you roll your eyes again.

“i was thinking something else, though,” peter says, and he’s closer now, but you’re sure that you never saw him move. “something more… proactive.”

“shove it, peter.”

“you don’t even want to hear it?”

you sigh, leaning your chest into him, out of pure delusion. “fine. what?”

peter smiles at you, eyes catching eyes.

the look on his face is soft, delirious. he’s got that look in his eyes, and that smile on his face, and he’s still staring at you like he’s mesmerized by whatever you’re doing.

“what?” you repeat, but softly, like you can’t find your voice in the chest cavity peters taken hold of.

“kiss me,” he says, softly, and it’s really not your fault that his lips are already brushing yours.

and it’s not your fault when you lean in, sighing in relief at the mere feel of him.

you’re almost breathless, from the tiniest of kisses.

but then you kiss peter again, and again, and your hands finally wrap around him—keeping hold of something real in this fake reality—and your voice isn’t your own when you groan at peter for making you do this.

you have evacuated your body. you have lost common sense.

but it doesn’t matter, because kissing peter has always made you forget all of that.

and it still does, when he pulls back, grinning like he’s won. “see?” he says, voice ragged. “it was simple.”

“we’re going to be late and it’s your fault.”

peter laughs, kissing you again, staring at your red lips. “gladly. i’ll take all the blame.”

“and you’re making it up to me later.”

“whatever you say,” he murmurs, thumb brushing your bottom lip.

he releases you and watches as you finally put on your shoes.

you don’t think it necessary to mention the red marks on his lips. it’s not like it’s your fault they’re there.

*

[d3adp00ls]

skateboards, bruises, and spiders

Summary: While Peter is supposed to be teaching you how to skateboard you notice a new bruise on his face leading you to confront him about it (the summary sucks I know i couldn't think of a good one)

Warnings: mentions of an attempt of robbing an old lady, Peter has a bruise (but that's normal for him), honestly there aren't any real warnings this was just smth I put together cuz I was bored but it's just fluffy.

Word count: it’s short. But you can count and tell me if you want ☺️☺️

A/N: I need to make a new masterlist later but I'm too lazy to do it rn but here's this fic while we can all pretend I definitely didn't forget or give up on my other series 🤭🤭🤭. ALSO, this could be seen as a platonic type of thing but in my mind, they both like each other but won't say anything (yet)

........

A bunch screaming, crying, and laughing that's all you could hear while you waited for your best friend who was supposed to be here over 10 minutes ago, Peter told you he wanted to hang out as much as possible this summer so when you brought up the fact that you were trying to learn how to skate he right away told you he would help teach you and you agreed to it embarrassingly fast though.  Your patience was wearing thin and you had sent a few texts to Peter none of which he responded to or even saw. You rub your face and let out a sigh as you press his contact and call him and let it ring.

“Hello?”

“Peter! Hey, it's Y/n you know? Your friend? The one you were supposed to meet up with at the park over 15 minutes ago? Are you still coming or what man?”

You hear him curse on the other side of the phone and it causes your jaw to clench thinking he forgot about you.

“If you forgot it's fine we can do it some other ti-”

You hear shuffling on the other end before he cuts you off.

“No! I mean no I didn't forget- I mean I kind of forgot- what I mean is I just lost track of time but I'm on my way right now.”

You stay quiet for a moment as you listen to him move around through the phone You swear you hear you hear cop sirens that sound way too close to be outside his room but you choose to ignore it  before you lean back on the bench and let your skateboard rest on your lap

“Alright, I’m by that playground near the bathrooms and the vegan food place,” you say into the phone and you hear him hum in response before you hang up.

........

It took Peter about 7 minutes to finally get to you and when he did he realized he forgot his skateboard so you both had to walk back to his aunt's apartment to get it, now you were both back at the park. You were watching him as he explained how to maintain balance while you push yourself and blah blah blah, you were just nodding your head pretending to listen while you stared at the new bruise below his eye that definitely wasn't there the last time you saw him

“Okay so then you’re gonna push like- Y/n/n? Y/n? Are you even listening to me?”

You blink a few times trying to think of what he was saying to you.

“Um…” Peter sighs before you can even come up with an excuse.

“Y/n, you asked for my help but you're not even paying attention, were you even listening at all-”

“How’d you get that bruise?” You cut him off

Peter's eyes go wide for a moment before he looks down at his foot playing with the skateboard in front of him.

“Are you trying to change the subject?”

“No…I just wanted to know,” You scratch the back of your neck as you look around you “I mean you didn't have it the last time I saw you and I'm just curious.”

You hear Peter hum, “I fell off my skateboard the other day.”

Now it was your turn to hum, “Oh really? That's weird…cause I've had that same kind of bruise before…and it was when someone punched me…”

“Someone punched you-” “Not recently, and plus that's not the point, Peter, that was a long time ago, but someone definitely punched you recently.”

You watch him scratch his neck as he tries to think of an excuse before he sighs.

“No one punched me I just ran into a pole-” “You're a horrible liar Parker, Who punched you? Was it Flash again? I thought you guys were friends now… Or was it that one kid-” “It doesn't matter Y/n-” “It does matter, you’re hurt-” “I'm fine” “But you’re bruised-” “It doesn't even hurt anymore-” “Okay but it did at some point.”

He stares at you in bewilderment at how you wouldn't drop this conversation and how you were actually worried about him.

“Y/n, I’m fine I swear, some guy was trying to rob this old lady and jumped in and stopped him, he was able to land a hit on my face before I could get him on the ground though.” He says with a shrug.

You sigh and shake your head.

“You could've just told me that instead of lying,” “Yeah I know but it was fun seeing you all worried about me.” He nudges you with his arm before laughing when you glare at him

“I wasn't ‘all worried’ about you I just wanted to know whether or not it had something to do with the police I heard through the phone early.” After you say this you can see him tense and his eyes widen.

“What police?” “Peter don't play dumb when we were on the call I literally heard police sirens going off in the background, at first I thought maybe it was just from outside but then I realize they were too loud and that you were in fact near them,” “I don't remember hearing any police sirens when I was on the phone with you-” “Okay peter whatever you say man, but the way you're all tensed up and sweating it just proves my point more and more.” “And what point is that?” You smile when he asks you that and you can see his brows furrow when you lean closer to him so you could whisper to him, “That you’re Spider-man.”

Peter jumps back his eyes wide and his mouth agape as he stares at you as if you had just told him Victoria’s Secret, “Spider-man?!” he shouts but when you both notice people looking toward you he calms down slightly and leans back in “Spider-man? That’s crazy- how could I- no way- I'm not him- he's not me- that's a crazy idea-” You only stare at him with a raised brow as he continues to rant about how he could never be the vigilante that swings around new york city every day.

Eventually, you get bored of listening to him try to deny his alter ego and you pick up your own skateboard and start to walk away.

“-And plus if I was Spider-Man- hey wait where are you going?”

“We came here to skate Parker, not to talk about your secret double life that, by the way, is definitely real, and as much as I would love to stuff in your face how I've figured you out I also wanna learn how to do tricks on this thing.” You lift your skateboard up before letting it drop on the ground and getting on it and skating away.

“Hey wait!” Peter quickly got on his before trying to catch up with you.

“When did you even learn to skate!?”

...…..

A/n: Bro ik it’s short like I said 😒 I was just bored and made this 🤭🤭🤭but yo I think I did good I told my friend I would probably finished at 3am it’s only 1 so I’m good now. OH ALSO MY REQUEST ARE OPEN (but specifically for PETER PARKER ONLY!!!) SO PLEASE SEND IN SMTH IM BORED AND ITS ONLY 1AM

(Also please leave a like if you enjoyed and if you’re feeling ever so generous a reblog as well 🫶🏾🫶🏾)

[biblio-smia]

you fell first

pairing: (tasm!) peter parker x gender neutral reader

summary: best friends to roommates to best friends with benefits wasn't your best idea.

masterlist | requests are open!

warnings: fwb/mature themes, implied smut

"pete: are u busy?"

the corners of your lips threatened to turn up at the message and you bit your lip to suppress the smile desperate to form.

you watched as your screen darkened, the notification against your lock screen fading with it. you checked the time on the corner of your laptop. 12:38 am. one, two minutes passed and you "read" the text. three, and you were out of bed, laptop forgotten, phone tossed to the side.

it didn’t take long for you to leave your room and reach peter’s, the few feet of hallway between the two of your rooms convenient now, though it had led to awkward bumping in the first few days of navigating sharing a space together.

you knocked on peter’s door, an unspoken rule since the beginning, waiting until peter opened it for you. you remembered how he mentioned having a stressful day today before disappearing into his room. you were sure that had something to do with this.

the door swung open and peter appeared, in sweatpants and lacking a shirt and you knew immediately what it was he wanted. he waited a second, waiting for you to consider it, waiting for your decision.

your arms were around peter’s neck and his hands were on your hips as the two of you stumbled into his bed.

this thing with peter started about a month into living together. you were friends first; then came the benefits. though the two of you agreed quickly that was what you both wanted. neither of you were currently looking for a relationship and even if you were, it was simply illogical to date your best friend and roommate; emotional attachment was a line both of you tiptoed, but never crossed.

a relationship would be too much. what if you broke up and couldn’t salvage your friendship? a split would divorce the friend group, too. not to mention the apartment you two shared.

the thing you loved about peter was how true to his word he was. if he promised he wouldn’t make things weird between the two of you, he wouldn’t.

no strings attached, backouts at any time. free to date anyone else. no need to let the other person know. the two of you weren't dating - though the two of you never really looked for a way away from each other.

just don't fall in love with each other. though that was always the tricky part.

「 … 」

“peter!” you called from the kitchen, shutting the fridge with a sigh.

“yeah?” peter asked from the hall, peeking his head out wearily. it wasn’t often you said his full name.

“oh, shit,” peter mumbled, running a hand through his hair. “it’s sunday?”

“it’s sunday,” you confirmed, crossing your arms over your chest. “i’ll do it,” you sighed, moving to start grabbing your things.

“no, no, it was my turn, i have to do it,” peter argued, moving in your direction to get to his things first.

“it’s fine, i wanted to get lunch anyway,” you insisted.”

“no.” peter shook his head stubbornly. another thing he was great at being.

you sighed, rolling your eyes. you weren’t getting through to him.

「 … 」

you pushed the shopping cart along the isle (only with one hand - peter insisted on pushing you to the side and pushing the cart with you, too). peter checked the list the two of you made over the week, stopping occasionally and looking for whatever item needed crossing off next.

there was a strange feeling in your chest as you watched peter and from the nervous flickering of his eyes, you could tell he was picking up on it, too.

maybe it was a little bit of annoyance as peter’s elbow bumped against your arm, or maybe it was the fact that you could’ve enjoyed your favorite snack last night if peter had gone grocery shopping when he was supposed to.

or maybe, it was the way the two of you looked.

it wasn’t how anyone in particular was looking at you; rather, it was how they weren’t looking. you and peter looked like something you weren’t, pushing a cart together and pointing for peter to pull an item off the shelf when his too-quick eyes skipped right over it.

it all felt… weirdly domestic.

which was strange, considering the two of you lived together. but you realized now that the beginnings of your living together had been nothing but platonic and now there was more attraction than either of you knew what to do it. it was physical, entirely. mostly. maybe not as much as you pretended it was.

no. this was just a physical thing. a convenience thing. a “hey i don’t want to spend time trying to find a hookup each time i want to have sex” thing. a “sure, we’re friends, right?” thing.

no emotions involved. don’t look at peter like that. don’t imagine him kissing you like he does, but softer, maybe in line to check out or maybe while putting the groceries away - oh, god.

“ha! look! they’re restocking the cinnamon toast crunch. we wouldn’t have had cereal if i went shopping yesterday.”

“you wouldn’t have had cinnamon toast crunch. you are literally the only twenty-two year old i know that still eats a bowl of sugar for breakfast.”

“okay, like you don’t always steal a bite.” peter scoffed, nudging your shoulder with his. “plus, harry loves cinnamon toast crunch.”

“only because you indoctrinated him into liking them. it doesn’t count.”

“it totally does!” peter laughed, not missing the way you turned your head to hide a smile. you couldn’t stay mad at him for long and he knew it.

"hey, hey, look," peter said excitedly, picking something off the shelf, displaying it proudly as you turned back to see what he held. "can we get the miraculous ladybug cereal?"

「 … 」

"i can't believe how expensive the eggs are!" you grumbled for probably the fifth time that trip, shuffling slowly through the checkout line with peter. usually, you'd keep these complaints in your head, but peter had the unlucky pleasure of being by your side.

peter hummed his agreement and you wondered how he wasn't sick of your complaining until you realized his focus was elsewhere - like it usually was.

peter stretched and curled and stretched his fingers, watching his hand but keeping his eyes off you. very carefully, you placed your palm against his. peter's fingers clasped between yours and he started talking about lunch but his words went in one ear and out the other.

now your focus was elsewhere and the beat of your heart drowned out anything peter was trying to say. it wasn't until peter rolled the cart forward that you heard him again, ranting on about nearby places to get food and what he was in the mood for.

you nodded along and weighed in, normally, as if holding hands with peter was nothing out of the blue. the contact with him shouldn't have shook you like it did, considering he'd been physically closer much more often, but the feeling in your chest was starting to choke you and the weight of peter's hand in yours was making you sink.

the way peter bumped you as he moved to start checking out, the smile that he flashed you as he paid for all the groceries, the shake of his head as you tried to help him carry them.

oh, god.

「 … 」

"pete: hey are u busy?" "pete: i kinda need your help"

a knowing smile tugged at yours lips as you let out a playful sigh, falling on no one’s ears but your own.

“what do you need help with now, pete?” you mumbled softly, tossing your phone to the side and briefly considering removing a piece of clothing before heading to peter’s room. you ultimately decided against it, making the short trip to peter’s door.

you’d controlled yourself since that day in the grocery store. you gave it more logical thought and considered the situation with each possible scenario. you were content now and there was no use in fixing something that wasn’t broken.

(you did need some time distant from peter to get over the fluttering of your heart when you were near him).

(but it only took a few days).

you knocked softly on peter’s door, lip bit in anticipation. you were hoping maybe he’d kiss you first tonight. you could use a little stress relief.

the door opened to reveal peter, hair disheveled and half of an outfit thrown on. “hey,” peter smiled, stepping aside to let you inside his mess of a room.

clothes were strewn across almost every inch of floor and bed and you weren’t sure peter was planning on adding to the pile.

“so, i don’t know what to wear,” peter began, a little bit of rush in his voice you were doing your best to keep up with despite the change of internal itinerary. “and i have a date in, like, 30 minutes.”

your body immediately forced a smile, your cheeks straining as your lips trembled into place.

“oh my god, peter parker has game?”

peter laughed and turned his back towards you, giving your face a chance to drop and you a chance to be grateful he didn’t notice. god, what was wrong with you?

peter dug through a small pile of shirts, shrugging the one he wore off and replacing it with another. “i think it’d make you really happy to know i still don’t. she asked me out.”

“oh?” you asked curiously, biting on the inside of your cheek. “wh-”

“how does this look?” peter turned, modeling his cargo pants and a pink and white button up shirt.

“awful,” you said bluntly, moving towards peter and unbuttoning the shirt he wore (don’t think about how many times you’d done that before). “i thought i told you to burn this?” you forced your eyes from peter’s chest to his face, watching as he rolled his eyes and pulled the shirt off his arms.

“put this on.” you threw peter a white button up instead, followed by a nice blue sweater. “and these, please,” you said, handing peter his most flattering pair of jeans.

“thank you,” peter said as he changed and you shoved clothes off his bed to make room for yourself. “you’re a lifesaver.”

“i’m gonna start charging you. and i’m gonna make you pay me $20 every time you put on a bad outfit.”

“jesus, all the food i buy you isn’t enough?” peter grinned despite the question as he did his best to fix his hair.

you shrugged. maybe nothing would be enough for you.

“it’s gwen, by the way,” peter said quickly as he finished, messing with things on his dresser to avoid looking at you.

you were quiet for a moment, staring at your fingers on your knees before you forced a laugh. “i never would’ve guessed gwen liked you.”

“yeah, right?” peter chuckled a little awkwardly, glancing at you to double check the smile you stubbornly held on your face, as if he were waiting for you to crack. he only forced his eyes off you to glance at his phone and mumble a curse. “i gotta go,” peter mumbled, grabbing the last of his things in a hurry. “i should be home in an hour or two, but don’t wait up, okay?”

“yeah, okay,” you nodded, waving at peter as he left his room, door wide open and forcing you to watch his retreating figure.

you felt glued to his bed, staring into the hall and back at your own door, listening to the front door open and shut. it wasn’t until you heard the lock click and the slow fade of footsteps that you let yourself cry.

「 … 」

the soft click of a lock signaled peter’s return, the front door sliding open and closed. you could hear peter sigh as he locked the door and hung his keys and you couldn’t help but be angry all over again.

peter’s footsteps stopped between the two of your doors and you wondered why he wasn’t going into his room before you realized he had stopped in front of yours. he changed his mind, turned around, and cut the silence of the apartment with the soft closing of his door.

you hoped he wouldn’t noticed the pile of clothes you kicked earlier.

you turned over in your bed, staring at your wall through the darkness of your room, willing tears not to force their way out of your eyes as your breathing quickened. you would not let peter hear you cry.

your phone lit up beside you and you lunged for the distraction.

"peter: hey" "peter: are you awake?"

a part of you wanted to text him back, "no." but you knew that wouldn't get you anywhere. ignoring him would have to do.

"peter: if u are i need to talk to you” "peter: please"

you turned your phone down and flipped over, balling into yourself and listening carefully to peter shuffling around. his door opened and he stopped again, giving you a feeling he was listening just as closely as you were.

"you're never asleep by now," peter accused in the softest voice an accusation could be made in and you sighed.

you could never stay mad at him for long. and he knew it.

"come in," you said, quiet, but loud enough that you knew he heard.

your door creaked open slowly and the light still on in peter's room illuminated his figure, now dressed in an old midtown high shirt and sweatpants.

"you're gonna raise the light bill," you muttered half-heartedly from under your comforter, just to say something.

"sorry," peter said even though he wasn't. "you were ignoring me."

you hated how he was just standing in the middle of your room, as if he didn't belong there.

"i wasn't," you lied.

peter sighed and placed a hand on your legs as he sat, careful not to hurt you. he didn't move his hand and you hated how his touch was warmer than your sheets.

"can you just... tell me what's wrong?" peter pried carefully.

"nothing's wrong."

peter sighed, more frustrated this time. "i know that i hurt you-"

"so then why'd you do it?" you were sat up now, anger flowing through you again.

"well, because you didn't say anything! how was i supposed to guess how you felt?" peter said defensively, moving his hand away from you.

"then maybe you should've thought about what you said to me. you said you didn't want a relationship and especially not with a friend because you didn't want to split the group apart if anything ever happened. but it's okay when it's with gwen?" your voice was louder now and you didn't even try to hide the hurt on your face. you swallowed thickly, watching the way peter couldn't even look at you. "you could've just told me you didn't want a relationship with me, peter." your voice was quiet now, which somehow hurt peter even worse.

peter stood up off your bed, taking a few steps away from you before stopping. you got up to follow. he didn't get to stand there and say nothing.

peter turned and you almost felt bad for causing the distress in his eyes. "i didn't- i only said yes because i was starting to feel something for you-"

"so it's my fault?"

"no! no, just-" peter put his hands on your shoulders, willing you to calm down. "it's not your fault. it was mine. i said that, yes, because that's what i wanted at the time. and then you just... i don't know. did something to me. but you said you didn't want a relationship either and i didn't want to ruin everything so gwen asked me out and i just... said yes! it wasn't to spite you, i promise."

you looked into peter's eyes, soft and desperate for you to believe him. you could never stay mad at him for long. and you made sure he knew it.

your fingers found his face and his hands fell to your waist in a dance the two of you had done many times before but never performed quite like this. your touch was feather-light and peter handled you like you'd slip away at any second, yet like he wanted to take his time with you. like he wanted to do it properly.

"you know, gwen told me right before she left that i was the biggest idiot she'd ever met. she asked me out to try to get me to realize i liked you," peter laughed. "she kept bringing you up and listened to me talk about you almost the entire time. i mean, that's like, red flag number one."

you laughed and stroked your thumb against peter's cheek. "i think i could work it up to forgive you," you said softly, the complete 180 making your head spin.

"i'd do anything," peter mumbled, leaning forward like you were something he simply couldn't resist. and you were in a way, his addiction, always in the back of his mind. he was unable and unwilling to part from you and he'd take any little thing you'd give him.

"i don't need much," you promised, placing your fingers on peter's lips and effectively disrupting his route to yours. "when'd you start liking me?"

peter's eyebrows furrowed and he frowned but didn't dare move your fingers, even as he spoke. "years ago, probably. i just realized it that night you fell asleep after we had sex. the only night that you did. i don't know, i just imagined you always sleeping next to me, even though we live together-"

you laughed and so did peter, your hands moving to cup his face gently. "i realized it when you forgot to get groceries and we went together."

"that recently?" peter asked with a little bit a shock in his voice, moving to get a clearer look at your face.

"hey, it wasn't that recently. at least i kept my end of the deal. no falling for each other, remember?" you mocked yourself and peter's stupid little rule.

"yeah, whatever," peter rolled his eyes playfully, leaning in to finally kiss you.

peter's lips were familiar but the feeling he brought out in you wasn't. it was something like before but about a hundred times stronger, eager and restless and wanting more. you were hungry for peter, but for his soft kisses and his tender touches. you wanted his lips on yours like how they were now, telling you how much he needed you rather than how much he wanted you. you wanted an arm around your waist and a hand in yours.

peter broke the kiss and picked you up, placing you on your bed and crawling in after you.

"will you go out with me? tomorrow, 7 pm?" peter asked softly, knees between your legs and arms caging you in.

"i'll take a look at my schedule," you grinned, placing a soft kiss on peter's lips. "i think it says yes."

"dork," peter grinned, kissing you again and dragging you down with him as he landed on your pillows. his arms wrapped around you and your head found a place against his chest. you could feel the smile on peter's face, basking in the heat radiating off of him and the quick beating of his heart.

"pete?"

"hmm?" peter hummed and you could feel the vibrations of his chest. you pushed him flat against your bed, moving up so that your face hovered above his, your fingers finding their way to his hair and stroking through it gently.

"you're not sleeping here until you turn that light off."

"oh, my god."

[slytherheign]

WORTH IT ALL | tasm!peter parker

PART 5/5 OF WORTH: THE SERIES.

PAIRING: tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 12.9k

SUMMARY: the question of worth will be answered as the battle continues and the only thing you and peter need to do is survive.

WARNINGS: cursing/swearing, depression, grieving, blood, multiple deaths, heavy traumas, murder, descriptions of major injuries, extreme violence, and dismembered body parts. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: 17+]

AUTHOR’S NOTE: if you don’t have a strong stomach for extreme violence, i suggest you don’t read this. but if you still want to know what happens, please skip the violent parts. i think you’ll feel and know when the said scenes start as i wrote it in a way where it builds up and the scenes become more and more violent. remember that you are responsible for your own media consumption.

DESTINATION: Angst Avenue | GO TO SERIES MASTERLIST or GO BACK TO THE STATION.

Peter was proven right yet again.

Mac was the original Scorpion, the one who attacked the neighborhood but his twin Mitch got ahold of the news, stole the formula, and manipulated it. There were two Scorpions. One in New York, right in front of him. And one in Japan, living in the same apartment building as you.

Anger and worry flowed through his veins. He wanted to go after you so badly, but he knew that leaving Mac alone would be a poor decision. The glass holding Scorpion captive was strong, but Peter did not trust it enough. With Mac’s enhanced strength, he knew that he would be able to break through the glass at any moment. 

The wisest decision would be to let Charlene and Carlos deal with Mitch. And as for him, he needed to stay and deal with Mac.

So he did.

It didn’t matter if you couldn’t feel your legs anymore, you just kept running as if your life depended on it. Because it did.

You only stopped when you reached a bus station. Going inside the vehicle, you made a plan of going straight to the airport. You would wait there until your flight, which was luckily scheduled a few hours from now.

As you reached the airport, you prayed that Mitch wouldn’t find you there. But in the meantime, you needed to blend in with people. You made your way towards the bathroom, heading straight to the mirror to look over the state of yourself. Your jacket covered the layers of sweat along your body. Your hair was in a ponytail but many strands managed to get out when you were running. You didn’t look like a mess, but you definitely didn’t look decent. You were surprised the guards even let you in this place, they probably assumed your current state was a result of you running late to your scheduled flight.

You went inside a cubicle, putting down the toilet lid so you can rest your bag on top. Escaping that vile apartment was your priority so you didn’t even bother bringing all your things, only the essential ones that can fit in a bag. Opening your bag, you pulled out a white sweatshirt and changed your sweaty clothes. It wasn’t much as you’d prefer to take a shower instead, but it did do the job so you weren’t complaining. When you exited the cubicle, you went back to the mirror to fix your face and hair. Just as you were securing your ponytail, you heard a couple arguing outside. 

“You need to go fast, we can’t waste too much time,” the man said. He seemed frantic and almost out of breath.

“Do you think I don’t know that? What do you want me to do? Just pee myself?” the woman replied. She seemed highly stressed.

“Okay–you know I didn’t say that. Charlene, that’s not what I said at all. Come on,” he tried to reduce the tension of their conversation.

The woman, who you now know was named Charlene, let out a deep breath. “I know, I’m sorry… everything is just too much right now,” she sighed again. “I’ll just make it quick.”

You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but hey, your curiosity got the best of you. And besides, they weren’t exactly trying to keep their conversation a secret as they conversed quite loudly. You heard the door open as Charlene went in. You looked at her out of concern and curiosity just to check if she was okay because she sounded anxious before. She didn’t seem to notice you as she went straight inside a cubicle without throwing you a glance. You decided to wait for her just to check once again if she was fine. 

Minutes later, Charlene left the cubicle and you didn’t hesitate to talk to her. Inching closer, you gently touched her arm before she could even get out of the bathroom. “Miss, are you alright?” you asked.

Charlene smiled, although her face still showed a glimpse of annoyance. Her eyes were still glued to the door, ready to leave at any moment. “Oh, thanks but I’m–” she started, but her smile faded and her eyes widened when she finally looked at you. “Holy shit,” she gripped your arms with slight roughness, seemingly shocked at your presence and scared that you would get away. You stared at her confused as you repeated your question. “Is everything okay?”

“No–yes. Yes!” she replied. You smiled at her response, wiggling out of her grip to start leaving the room yourself. She wouldn’t budge. “Wait! Don’t leave. I’m Charlene. NYPD,” she showed her ID. Your eyebrows furrowed, but your face slightly lit up in the presence of another person from New York City. You didn’t know why she didn’t want you to leave, though.

“You’re Y/N, right? Y/N L/N?” she asked and you nodded skeptically. “Yes… why?” you asked when suddenly your overthinking nature started creeping up again. “Shit. Did I do something? D-did I commit a crime? Am I wanted?!” you screamed in a whisper.

Charlene let you go eventually, chuckling at your reaction. “No. It’s a–shit,” she laughed again but you noticed there was relief behind it. “We were looking for you, Y/N.” 

“But why?” you asked again. “Scorpion,” she only said one word but you understood. “You’re not safe here. You need to go back to New York. We’re taking you back,” she explained.  “Okay. I’ll go with you,” you said. You knew you probably shouldn’t trust her so easily, but you were desperate to escape this country. It was only a matter of time until Mitch would find you here. And besides, she was an officer, or at least that’s what she claimed to be. 

“Can I ask you a question?” you started gathering your things as she fixed herself in the mirror. “Sure,” she replied. “How do you know me? and how did you know I’m in this country?” you questioned.

“Pe–” she started to say, but then she remembered that Peter Parker was dead for you. “Spider-Man informed us about you. He couldn’t go here and rescue you himself because he was dealing with the other Scorpion back in New York.”

You froze at her answer. “What do you mean other Scorpion in New York? There are two?!” 

“Yes,” she replied as if it was such a simple thing. Working with Spider-Man definitely got her used to dealing with unusual things. She noticed your frozen expression. “I’ll explain more when we get out of here,” she assured you. 

Charlene came out of the door first, with an annoyed Carlos waiting for her. “How in the world was that quick?” he complained. “Relax,” Charlene teased, a knowing smile creeping up on her lips. “How could you smile knowing–” he started to say before Charlene interrupted him. “I found her.” 

You stepped out of the door, waving at the man. “Hi, I’m Y/N,” you held your hand out for him to shake. “I know,” he shook your hand. “Carlos,” he replied. He let out a sigh of relief and looked at Charlene. “What a coincidence. You’re lucky,” he told her and she agreed.

“We still have an hour left before the next flight to New York,” you informed them, showing your ticket. They shook their heads. “You don’t need that anymore. Come with us,” Carlos said and you followed.

“You have a private helicopter?!” you almost screamed as they led you up the stairs. “It’s not ours,” Carlos replied. “Then who owns it?” you questioned. “James Jonah Jameson. The pilot is his friend too.”

“The anchor from the Daily Bugle?” you asked while the three of you found a seat to sit on.

“Yup. We’re friends with him,” Carlos replied. “We’re great friends with him,” Charlene laughed. “Seriously,” she stopped laughing. “Who owns this helicopter is not important. What’s important is that we found you, and we’re going back to New York, we’re gonna get you somewhere safe before we go and help Spider-Man again with these Scorpions.”

“I can help too,” you offered but Charlene instantly held a hand up before you could continue. “Oh no no no. We are under strict instructions to keep you safe and that’s what we're gonna do.” 

“But–”

“No,” they said in unison and you didn’t push any further. They explained the whole situation to you before you fell asleep with the heavy weight of knowing how dangerous the whole thing was to everyone, but most of all to Spider-Man and you.

Exhaustion was slowly eating Peter up as he stared at Mac Gargan through the glass. Many hours had passed, it has probably been a day or two since Charlene and Carlos left New York to come after you. He had instructed them to fly to Japan as soon as possible, and when the couple discovered Jameson’s private helicopter, he made Jameson call his pilot to fly it. With the amount of time that had passed, he hoped that you were already with them and were already on the way back here. 

He wished he could call Charlene and ask about you, but his phone was still missing until now. He thought that he should probably find it, but could he leave Mac alone and expect nothing would happen? No. He was smarter than that. 

The grumbling of his stomach interrupted his thoughts. Shit. He hasn’t eaten since his friends left. For all he knew, he hasn’t drank water as well. All he did was pretty much stare at Mac as he sat on a sturdy chair in front of the glass. All the while his head thought of ways to end this mess. He just wanted all of this to end. He imagined how it would be if the Scorpions did not exist. Peter Parker would still be alive and still be with you. He probably would’ve confessed his feelings already and if you felt the same, you probably were already together.

Someone behind him cleared their throat, interrupting yet again his train of thought. He turned around to face Jameson, who actually turned out to be quite friendly in the time he was spending in his basement. Jameson held a water bottle and a box of Chinese takeout, offering them to Peter knowing the boy hadn’t eaten for a long time. As it turned out, letting Jameson go was one of the best decisions he ever made. He let him go some time ago, deciding that watching Mac would be much easier than watching both Mac and Jameson. Besides, he knew people at the Daily Bugle would be suspicious without their anchor present for days. He wasn’t worried he’d escape or reveal his identity to the authorities, Peter knew his knowledge about Jameson and his illegal schemes was more than enough for Jameson to give his loyalty to him. Weirdly enough, the entire situation made Peter and Jameson sort out their differences and get along with each other.

Peter accepted the food and water with a big smile when an idea presented itself in his head. “Can you guard Mac for a while?” he asked. Jameson was obviously hesitant, but Peter managed to convince him eventually. He told him he would leave his house after he was done with his meal, go on his way to the station which was the last place he hasn’t checked yet for his missing phone, and return immediately. “It won’t take long,” he assured.

And so after his meal, Peter finally left the suffocating basement after staying there for more than a day. He entered the station with a smile, thinking of a way to get to Charlene’s desk without getting reprimanded by the officers. Sure, he could just don his suit and enter as Spider-Man, but it would make the questions about the case start flooding in—questions that he had no energy to answer at the moment.

An old female officer recognized Peter the moment he came from the door. “Hey, are you Peter Parker?” she questioned and he nodded. “Sorry, kid. Charlene’s not here.”

“How do you know I’m here for her?”

“Oh, she told me about you, even described you. That's why I recognized it was you when you entered here.”

Now, why would Charlene talk about him to other people? What else did she talk about? Did she talk about Spider-Man and him being one and the same? She couldn’t be a traitor. No, he trusted her way too much.

“Are you okay?” she asked, noticing his frowned expression. Peter nodded. “What did she tell you about me?”

There was a glint of sympathy in the officer’s expression that Peter couldn’t understand what for. She guided them both to a waiting area where they could sit down. “Well, she told me how you reminded her of her brother. Her brother, Charles, died because of a car crash. She hasn’t been the same when he died, she was always composed to herself, and she wouldn’t talk to anyone except her husband unless it was necessary. But then she started getting all lively again, and when I asked her why, she told me about you. She said that ever since she met you, you filled a hole that her brother left in her heart and made her complete for once.”

Peter didn’t know what to say. But at that moment, he finally understood why Charlene never questioned his decisions and why she easily supported and helped him in whatever the situation was. “She cares a lot about you, so you best be careful when you’re driving. Always check the car,” the officer continued.

“Always check the car…” he repeated in his head. 

The car. Shit.

“Oh! I’ve probably talked too much. I should go. Do you need anything?”

Peter shook his head, remembering now where he left his phone. It wasn’t in the station. It was in Charlene’s car. He put it in the compartment on the way home after they had a tiring night surveying the Mega Grand.

He had never entered a car so swiftly up until now. His heart was beating so loud he could hear its rhythm as he put his hand in the compartment and tried to find his phone.

He found it.

You landed at Jameson’s helipad with relief. You were away from Mitch but you knew that you still weren’t safe. Charlene guided you straight to the parking lot so she could get her car and take you away from this place.

You had no idea how dangerous this place was at the moment and Charlene made sure to get you out of the area immediately. As soon as you were out of the house, Charlene noticed that her car was missing. Peter probably used it, she thought.

“Let’s use mine,” Carlos offered. And so, the three of you went inside the car and drove off while the pilot of the helicopter you borrowed left the place on his own.

“Can we go to my house?” you requested. “With all of these things happening, I think I can only feel comfortable when I’m in there.”

“Okay. We’ll be with you anyway.”

“Thank you,” you smiled before telling them the directions.

The silence was the only thing that surrounded the house the moment the three of you entered it. You were all in the living room, sitting on the sofas while the television played softly in the background. None of you were even paying attention to the news, you just opened it to cope with the tension and silence that was eating you. Carlos was staring at the floor, Charlene was playing with her fingers, and you were tapping your foot anxiously on the hardwood floor.

No one knew how much time had passed.

No one knew what was happening to Peter.

No one knew what was going on outside.

But you all knew that you were all scared.

Peter held his phone close to his chest, gripping it tight as he was scared of losing it again. This wasn’t just a normal object he could replace anytime. It was his phone which had your number and the countless conversations he had with you. To say that he was relieved was an understatement.

The battery was dead as expected but luckily Charlene had a charger in the car he could use. He drove back to Jameson’s as he waited impatiently for the phone to turn on. As soon as he saw the lock screen, he was immediately met with numerous notifications from you. God, how much time had even passed since he heard your voice or last saw your face as Peter Parker?

Keeping his eyes on the road while glancing at his phone every now and then, he debated on whether to open the messages right now or wait until he was parked at Jameson’s house safely. Upon realizing he was already close to his destination, he decided to open them while driving instead.

Hey, Pete.

God, I haven’t texted you for so long.

I just wanted to let you know that I’m leaving the city.

He knew these texts were from before you left the city after he told you that he died. He also noticed your missed calls. Tears brimmed in his eyes as he realized that you still continued to talk to him even after knowing he was gone.

But don’t worry, I’m still going to visit you and the house. Oh and speaking of the house, your things are there too. I figured you wouldn’t want them to stay at the old apartment (they might throw it away haha).

The first tear fell as he chuckled. Smiling afterwards with pain ringing in his chest. You truly were the kindest and most precious person to ever step foot on this earth. He wished he could hold you again. But he knew he couldn’t. This was for you. To protect you. He sent Charlene and Carlos to get you and keep you safe. He swore to himself that after all of this mess was done, he would stop talking to you anymore.

I’m sorry, Peter.

For leaving.

It hurt him to know that you were apologizing for simply leaving and trying to move on. And now, just as he realized he sent people to get you back in the city again, he hated himself even more for putting you in harm and hurting you over and over again.

I miss you so much, Pete.

He missed you too. So fucking much. He missed the smell of your perfume, the touch of your hand, the warmth you always brought when you entered the room—everything. He missed everything about you.

I love you.

Time stopped all of a sudden. Even his eyes, wet from tears, stopped blinking. His grip on the wheel became tighter. You loved him just as he loved you and those words were the confirmation he needed. His past decisions flashed in his memory and those three words coming from you clouded his mind.

Was this the life he would live until the end of his days?

To love someone and let that someone go over and over again to keep them safe?

He remembered Gwen, how she died for him, and how her eyes told him that it wasn’t his fault. Even in her last breath, Gwen chose to fight for him.

He remembered you, how you reacted when he told you that Peter Parker died. You didn’t believe him initially, you demanded proof and accused Spider-Man of lying. You also chose to fight for him.

He was a coward, always choosing to build up a wall and shutting people out every time instead of telling them the truth and fighting the challenges of life together.

It was his turn to fight for himself.

He didn’t want to be lonely anymore.

He was aware of the danger he would bring into your life. And maybe what he was about to do was selfish. But if it was then…

He would be selfish just this once.

Fuck all of his plans. He wasn’t letting go of you anymore.

Just as he was parking the car in the parking lot, only one thing came to mind.

He would fight for this love.

He pulled the keys out of the car. He removed his phone from the charger and started to type the four words that would confirm he was still alive and that he loved you too. He was about to send it, but the moment he opened the door and left the car, the atmosphere changed.

The hair on his arms stood up. The smell of metal entered his nose but he knew that it wasn’t metal he was smelling. Rust. It smelled like rust as well and from that moment he knew that he was smelling blood.

The house was dark. Not even a single light was on. No doubt, there was no electricity. Something bad happened when he was gone.

He threw the phone on the seat, leaving it on the car and closing the door before rushing towards the basement. 

The emergency switch was on the other side of the basement. Because he couldn’t see anything, he closed his eyes and focused his senses to find where the switch was.

“Jameson?” he called out. 

Silence.

“Jonah?” he tried again.

The only thing he could hear was his footsteps until he eventually found the switch and flicked it. All the lights were turned on in a second and reality attacked him in the worst way possible the moment he opened his eyes.

Blood.

Blood was everywhere.

The once-white walls and tiles were now stained with red and the giant cylinder glass that used to hold Mac Gargan’s Scorpion was shattered. He was nowhere to be found. 

But what he saw next was even worse.

“Fuck,” he couldn’t believe the sight in front of him.

“Fuck fuck fuck. Shit.”

It was Jonah. But it wasn’t the entirety of him. It was his left leg separated from his body. Not too far from the right, he saw his right arm. His eyes roamed the entire place and sure enough, the other parts were scattered everywhere. 

The blood in the room was Jonah’s. It was everywhere because his body parts were everywhere. His decapitated head was on top of a table.

“No,” his trembling lips whispered. It was all he could say as he continued to study the room.

“No no no no.”

He started crying the more he saw the dismembered parts of his friend’s body. He had been Spider-Man for years. He had encountered violence and experienced injuries. But he had never seen something like this before. 

He had a fair share of traumas. But this—this brought an unwelcome kind of trauma that would surely change his view of the world for the worst.

His knees gave up on trying to hold his shaking body. He was on the floor for who knows how long. He cried, and cried some more just to somehow get ahold of himself and try to move on from what he just saw. But it was hard. 

Now, he knew who or what he was fighting. If one Scorpion could do this, what more would happen if the two Scorpions teamed up against him?

This… this just showed him what the Scorpions were capable of doing. And if Mac could do this to Jonah, then Mitch could do it to you.

No. He quickly shook his head as soon as the thought entered his mind. He wouldn’t let anything happen to you. He didn’t need his mind creating negative thoughts that would distract him. He needed to prepare himself and stay strong… and for you, he would.

Peter put on the Spider-Man suit and went to exit the property as fast as he could. He decided not to take the car as he thought that swinging would be faster. Just as he reached the road where Jameson’s property ended, two more roads greeted him and he had to make a choice. Left or right, which was the road that would lead him to Scorpion?

He did something he had never done before. He shut down all his senses. He closed his eyes, paused his movements, and stopped his breathing. He focused on one sense only—the sense of smell. If there was one thing Peter remembered in relation to Scorpion other than the sight of him was the scent of chemicals around the basement that he was sure were used on him. 

Just like magic, his mind created a map for him leading to Mac Gargan. With his eyes still closed, the once absolute darkness that one was supposed to see when one’s eyes were closed was changed into images of roads leading up to one building. The Daily Bugle.

An emergency broadcast from the Daily Bugle interrupted the silence that surrounded the three of you in the living room. Charlene and Carlos stood up, almost knowing what the emergency was on the news. They faced the television and you stood up to follow their actions. 

A live broadcast of the Daily Bugle building, no doubt the cameraman was recording from a helicopter. You were all confused for a moment about why the news would broadcast a view of their building but then just as instantly you realized the reason why.

A figure similar to what you have seen Mitch become when you ran away from him appeared on the screen, they were on the rooftop with Spider-Man. It was a full-on battle, and just by the sight of some windows broken and some walls holed out, you knew that they had been fighting for quite some time until one of them eventually led the two of them to the rooftop to prevent breaking any more things. You were sure that that one person was Spider-Man.

The person behind the camera cried out for help, saying that some of his friends were dead in the building and some were still stuck there. Immediately, you understood why they broadcasted this live—the employees were begging for help. They were begging for the police, for everyone who was willing to help them in an instant. Just by his broken voice, you didn’t want to imagine the extremity of things that had happened in that building.

The screen showed at least 40 police cars arriving at the premises. While Spider-Man was busy fighting the Scorpion on his own, you saw the NYPD enter the building and help the people inside.

“He needs help,” Carlos mumbled, his voice shaking. Charlene was nervous too, but still, she nodded. 

“Are you alright being alone here?” she asked as she faced you. With both her hands gripping tightly on your shoulders, you realized the danger of the circumstance. You knew they would help Spider-Man. And so, even though you were scared to be left alone, you nodded.

“Go to the safest room in here. Be careful and attentive at all times,” she ordered. And then she left with Carlos to help Spider-Man.

You felt small being alone inside the big house. How could you not? When there were ghosts of your childhood in every corner and every room?

When Charlene told you to go to the safest room in the house, you immediately knew the room you needed to go to. The only problem was, the safest room in the house was the scariest one for you. 

Your parents’ bedroom. 

The room you refused to enter ever since that tragic moment. You locked this room the last time you were in this house, making a promise to yourself not to enter it again. But given the circumstances, maybe it was time to grow up and face your fears. You looked for the keys, it wasn’t hard to find the key to the room since the key was very different from the other ones. 

You inserted the metal into the door knob. You slowly twisted it until you heard the familiar click that told you that the room was now open. You put the key in your pocket, keeping it safe there along with other important keys in the house.

You withdrew a shaking sigh, closing your eyes as you pushed the door open and entered the room. Still with your eyes closed, you turned to close the door quietly. You turned back facing the room, opening your eyes slowly until it was wide open.

And there it was.

The king-sized bed with yellow sheets.

The large window that overlooked the most painful view.

You smiled but there were tears on your face. It had been years since you entered this room. You stood beside the window that overlooked a road. The road where your father died.

“I want some donuts!” the 7-year-old you shouted from the backseat. 

“Honey, please stop playing with your seatbelt,” your mother requested.

“But I want to get out so we can get some donuts!” 

“Sorry baby, we’re way past the donut shop,” your father told you. But the little you wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Pleaseeee!” you pleaded.

“Honey, we can’t. Put on your seatbelt back, please.”

“No donuts, no seatbelt.”

You saw your father glance at you from the rearview mirror. “Okay, baby, we’ll get donuts once you put your seatbelt on. Alright?”

“Promise?”

You didn’t notice it, but your mother nudged him. Shaking her head as she whispered not to promise something he cannot do right now. It was already night, they were both exhausted. But their daughter was still energetic and wanted some donuts. It was way too late in the night, they couldn’t allow her sweets. Besides, they were close to home, they could see a glimpse of the window of their room from where they were.

“Promise, baby.”

The little you noticed that you were close to home as well. But still, you didn’t get the donuts you wanted.

“Daddy, where’s the donuts?”

“Sorry, Y/N, it’s too late.”

“BUT YOU PROMISED!” you screamed.

“Y/N, baby, please stop shouting,” your mother told you.

“NO!” you were having a tantrum at this point. “DONUTS! DONUTS! DONUTS!”

“Stop shouting, Y/N. I told you we can’t,” your father said.

“BUT YOU PROMISED ME!”

“Y/N, please… it’s late and you’re being too loud.”

You were crying and screaming. Both your parents were having enough of it.

“Please, stop… Baby, we’ll get donuts tomorrow. I promise,” your dad practically begged you to stop shouting.

“But I want it now! You promised donuts now!”

“Please stop shouting, baby. You’re distracting daddy’s driving,” your mom said.

You didn’t stop. Instead, you continued shouting and crying. “Donuts! Now! Now! NOW!”

“Y/N. Stop,” your father warned.

You didn’t listen.

The next thing you knew, a bright light blinded the three of you and a harsh force impacted the car. You heard the windows shatter before everything turned black.

The beeping of the machines interrupted your peaceful resting. But soon that peaceful state would turn into a headache so painful you thought you just got into a car accident. But you did, though. You were in a car accident.

You started crying, calling out for your mom and dad. Because you knew that just their cuddles would fix everything that was broken and heal everywhere that was painful. The nurse immediately went beside you, whispering sweet words to comfort you. But it did nothing. You wanted your parents. You looked everywhere, but you couldn’t find them so you cried even more. The nurse rubbed your arms, telling you to rest.

“Sleep, little Y/N. Your parents will be here when you wake up,” she said softly.

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

So you believed her.

And you did wake up, and your mom was there beside you… but why was she crying and saying sorry about your dad? 

You looked over at the nurse, the one who made a promise to you, you asked her where your dad was and all she could do was shake her head. 

The kind nurse didn’t know anything, she probably didn’t have any idea at that moment when she made that promise. You hated her for that. It wasn’t her fault, you knew that. But then again, she promised you your mom and dad would be right beside you the next moment you would wake up and that wasn’t what happened. The only one beside you was your mom.

You stopped believing in promises anymore after that.

Most people would be elated the moment they’d be released from the hospital after an accident. That wasn’t the case for you and your mom. In the hospital, it was quiet, just the two of you basking in the unusual comfort of the four white walls. Also, being in the hospital stalled the two of you from dealing with life yet again. You knew your mother wasn’t ready to be without your father and you couldn’t help but feel guilty that you may have killed your father because you distracted him from driving. Life went on, so you both had to accept and deal with it.

The first ever time you saw your mother break down was at your father’s funeral. It was kind of terrifying to know that a person you could touch before would just turn into a tombstone once they took their final breath. On the other side of the cemetery, you saw a lady mourning her brother. Her face was turned back from you but you knew she was crying just by the movement of her shoulder. Your father wasn’t the only one who died that tragic night. The driver of the other car, a guy named Charles, also died. The reports said that Charles was drunk that night, but at the same time your father was distracted and wasn’t focusing on the road, so you guessed that both parties were at fault. Not that it mattered anyway, because you all lost someone special and important.

For a few weeks after the funeral, your mother became numb. She wouldn’t talk to you unless it was time to eat. You had to learn how to deal with pain on your own because clearly, your mom needed to be left alone. You understood her. She just needed time.

You were right because, after a few more weeks, she started returning to her normal self. The smile on her face returned, and the joy that her body radiated was back.

Or maybe she was just good at hiding pain behind a smile, but of course, she would never let you know that.

You wiped your tears as you next stared at the bed. Its yellow sheets were still in the same state and unwashed as when your mother last rested on it. 

“How long have you had this, Mom?” you finally had the courage to ask. You sat on the bed beside your mother, holding her hand as she rested weakly on there. 

“You don’t need to know that.”

“Yes, I do!” you didn’t mean to shout. “I need to know, Mom, please. I-I need to know how long you have been suffering with this.”

“Long enough.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you wait until it’s so severe that you can’t even stand or sit or hold your head up?” you pretty much cried out. 

“Because I thought it was getting better,” she smiled at you. “I knew it was getting better…”

You held her cheeks in between your palms. You wiped the tears that fell down from her eyes. You hated this. You hated seeing your mother, your best friend, your confidant, suffer. For every tear that her eyes shed, a tear of your own followed.

“I was getting treatments. Your dad was always with me. I was getting better but… but then your father died and instead of getting better… I started getting worse.”

“Mom…” 

“I realized then that my treatment was him. His presence. But now that he’s gone and he’s not coming back, I don’t think I’ll get better anymore or last any longer.”

“Shh-no. Don’t say that. Mom, please…”

“Y/N, I love you so much, you know that, right?”

Every now and then you’d glance at the machine that monitored her heart.

“If you love me, show me. Stay with me. I can’t do this without you. I-I need you,” you pleaded.

“Y/N, baby, mommy’s tired…”

“Please. M-mom, please… stay. I-is there something I can do? Is there something you need?” you said the words in between shallow breaths. “What do you need, Mom? Please t-tell me, Mom. Come on…”

“Look at me, baby. I’m tied to these machines. I’m only living because of them.”

“Tell me what I need to do, please…”

“You can’t do anything, baby–”

“No!” you stood up, facing her. “Don’t tell me I can’t do anything, Mom!” you pointed a finger at her. “You’re dying for god’s sake! I want to do at least something… just tell me what to do… I’ll do anything.”

She could only shake her head.

“Stay with me,” you went back to holding her hand. You were kneeling on her bedside. “Please…”

“I can’t.”

Those two fucking words cracked your heart like it was just a cup of glass. And then threw it on the floor and kicked it again and again until it shattered into shards and into merely… particles.

“At least try?” you smiled at her, trying to convince her not to succumb to the pain and leave you. 

“Darling, I already did,” she looked at you with the most broken eyes you’d ever seen.

“Try a little bit more?” you pleaded.

“I don’t want to anymore.”

All hopes were shattered in an instant. You saw the setting of the sun from the large window in the room. Soon, the day would turn into night. But for you, it wasn’t just the day turning into night at that moment. The bright world was turning into a dark one. You hated it.

“Y/N, baby, look at mommy.”

And you did.

“I’m exhausted… can we stop fighting? Please, let’s just talk?”

You could do that.

“Okay…”

Maybe all of this would hurt a little less if you already start the path to acceptance. You stood up from your kneeling position and sat beside your mother once again.

“Honey, can you hold my hand?”

“Of course,” you obliged. You intertwined her right hand with your left and then cupped them with your right. You didn’t know what to say, so you kept quiet.

“Darling, talk to me please.”

You looked around the room, thinking of a topic you could talk about. Your eyes found the bright bed sheets interesting. “Bright yellow bed sheets? I thought you always went for neutral ones when it comes to bedding.”

“That’s true. I hate bright colors when it comes to bedding,” she laughed. “But then your father and I… when we argue, he would always joke about changing the sheets with a bright yellow one if we didn’t stop fighting. It was definitely the argument finisher. He knew how much I hated overly bright colors.”

Your mother smiled thinking about the memory, your lips presented a smile as well. “Then why’d you change the sheets to bright yellow?”

“I want to remember him in every way. Everything that reminds me of him, I want it.”

“I miss Dad…” you mumbled.

“I do too,” your mother replied. “I miss him so much.”

“I’m sor–”

“Don’t even finish that. How many times have I told you that it’s not your fault he died?”

“But–”

“No, baby, no. Let’s just not talk about it anymore, okay?”

“Okay.”

For a while, only the beeping of the machines was what you heard. Even the silence was heartbreaking. You hated every single second you were spending in this room.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?” you looked at her, she was looking at you with joy again. How could she even experience joy at that moment?

“Come here, let me kiss your forehead.”

She was weak, her body was frail. She couldn’t move by herself. As you moved your head close to her face, you felt the light tap of her lips on your forehead. And then with her delicate body, she hugged you… or at least tried to. You moved your head away from her face so you could smile and look at her. She smiled back.

“Y/N, baby, can you close your eyes?”

“Why?” your eyebrows furrowed with confusion.

“Just close them. Don’t open them for a minute.”

And you did.

“I love you, my baby.”

You knew what was happening.

You wished you didn’t close your eyes. You wished you could’ve stared at her eyes for even longer. But you were obedient. You loved her so you followed what she wanted you to do.

You thought your closed eyes would hold the tears back but they didn’t. You were sobbing, silently praying for anyone above who was listening to help. You were asking for a miracle at this point. You wanted, no, you needed a miracle. And you need it right now, at this moment, in an instant.

Her hand intertwined with yours felt heavier because she wasn’t holding your hand anymore. You squeezed her hand, again and again, pleading for her to squeeze your hand back. But she didn’t.

She has let go.

Let go of you.

Let go of life.

She was gone.

You sat on the bed, not caring how much dust had collected on it. You placed your palm over the pillows, stroking it as you closed your eyes imagining that your mother was still there. But of course, as soon as you opened them, she wasn’t.

Something caught your eye. A television. 

You hadn’t been in this room for so long that you forgot that there was even a television. You wondered if you should turn it on and watch what was happening with Carlos, Charlene, and Spider-Man. 

You remembered the moments you spent with Spider-Man, how one of the reasons you left this city was because you had to get away from him. It scared you—the feeling that you were slowly falling in love with him. You felt you were betraying Peter, so you left before that feeling of comfort you felt with him bloomed into a feeling of love. He remained as your friend though, and you were grateful for that. Your mind shifted to your friends from school, the ones scattered around the world achieving their dreams. How were they now? It had been a while since you all talked. Were you still even friends or have the people you know now turned into people you don’t? 

You shook your head, shaking out the thoughts. You decided to turn on the television. It was better to watch and worry than panic because you didn’t know what was happening. 

You watched Scorpion getting the upper hand, with Spider-Man underneath him. He was trying to land an attack on your web-slinging friend’s face, but Spider-Man was able to stop him by gripping his arms and pushing him off of him. Now, it was Spider-Man on top and Scorpion underneath him. You kept your focus on the television in front of you, observing the intense fight on the screen. Moments after, you saw your two police friends enter the scene. With their guns raised, they immediately threw shots at the opponent but Mac’s suit was strong enough to withhold gunshots.

And then the large window in the room suddenly shattered.

“You can’t run away from me forever, you know that right?”

There he was. Your greatest nightmare—Mitchell Gargan. He was in his human form but there were hints of his Scorpion form in his body. You went to the side of the bed quickly before he could even take another step closer to you. You pulled out a box from under it, opening it to find a gun you knew your father kept for situations like this. You raised the gun, pointing it at him.

He just laughed. He wasn’t even afraid. For each step that he took closer to you, his body changed until it transitioned to his full Scorpion form. You backed away until your back touched the TV that was attached to the wall. 

Mitch glanced at the TV and noticed the live footage. “They’re having a party and they didn’t even invite us?” 

He took another step and you didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger. It hit his shoulder. He hissed from pain, touching the wound you created. But then, he continued laughing, looking at you as if you made him even more turned on.

“Don’t you dare take another step or I'll shoot again,” you warned.

“Oh come on, where’s the fun in that?”

You pulled the trigger once more, only to find out that the magazine was already empty. You panicked and Mitch noticed.

“You should’ve gone for the head,” he smirked. 

You threw the gun, it didn’t have any use anymore. You fixed your stance, doing your best to appear confident and brave in front of the monster that was once your friend.

“We’re going to the party,” he demanded.

“No,” you replied sternly.

“You’re cute. But I wasn’t really asking for your permission.”

“I said no. I’m not moving.”

He chuckled darkly.

“Too bad. You’re coming with me.”

The next thing you knew, he grabbed you forcefully by the waist and dragged you along as he journeyed to the Daily Bugle building.

Peter was starting to feel the rising exhaustion of his body but he knew that giving up or merely stopping for a second was not an option. If he was being honest, his body had already given up a long time ago and only his mind was pushing him to continue. When Carlos and Charlene showed up to help him, he felt slightly relieved knowing that the couple was there to help him. However, their presence made him worry because if they were there then that would mean that you were alone. He shouted at them to ask where you were to which they assured him that you were somewhere safe and reassured him that you were fine.

Having Carlos and Charlene with him helped a lot. Their only weapons were guns but nonetheless, he knew that three people against one gave them a far better chance of winning. Somehow, they were able to create a strategy that every time Peter would seem to slow down, the couple would shoot at Scorpion as much as they could. The only problem was Mac Gargan’s suit which made him Scorpion was bulletproof and they had to find an uncovered spot to shoot at.

He managed to get Mac trapped under him. He punched his head over and over again until the helmet on his head broke. He pulled the shards away so that he could see his face and land his punches with more impact. But because the suit was connected to his entire body, Mac’s skin was pulled with it. Mac screamed from pain but he was still putting up a fight, eventually managing to push Peter by kicking him in the stomach.

Peter was quick to react and still stood on his feet, not letting himself be pushed under Mac again. He saw an opportunity to web Mac’s ankles together and took it. And before Mac could release his ankles from the hold of his webs, he flicked his wrists again, circling him until Mac’s body was cocooned by his sticky webs. His spider sense alerted him again, but he paid it no attention because he already knew that the danger was in front of him. Peter called for Carlos and Charlene, informing them that this was the chance to shoot because Mac couldn’t move and his head wasn’t covered anymore.

He heard them shoot, however, no bullets came towards Mac Gargan. He turned his body to face his friends, only to realize that new but not unfamiliar faces just entered the scene.

The second scorpion was here. Mitchell Gargan. The helicopter with the cameraman who recorded the scene live immediately left when they noticed the second monster, scared that they would be caught up in the mess as well.

Mitch was here but that wasn’t what made Peter terrified. It was you. You were there on his side, begging for help.

Peter swore he could feel his blood boil from anger. He was seeing red. He ran towards him, throwing a kick on his head that made Mitch release his hold of you. You ran quickly towards Carlos and Charlene, both of them going in front of you to cover you in an instant. 

Mitchell Gargan’s scorpion proved to be stronger than his brother’s. While the four of you were busy observing and fighting Mitch, none of you seemed to realize Mac slowly escaping from Peter’s webs. 

And then Mitch did something no one expected, he managed to dodge every attack that was thrown at him and ran towards you. He grabbed you by the waist for the second time that day, and with no remorse, he threw you off the rooftop.

“NO!” Peter screamed. The blood on his body seemed to drain at that moment. His mind was blank, but he was sure his heart pushed his body to move on its own. 

He jumped after you instantly. He wasted no time as every second counted. He saw your hand trying to reach out, but your eyes were closed. It was almost like you weren’t expecting to be saved, but you were still hoping for a savior. 

For you, the whole thing was confusing. Different emotions released themselves all at once. For a moment you were shocked and angry, and then you were sad and anxious, but now as you feel your body close to reaching the hard ground in a swift manner, you felt… accepting. Maybe this was your fate. Maybe this was the way it all had to end.

You opened your eyes a little bit and saw Spider-Man trying to save you. Suddenly, there was a glimmer of hope… but he was too far to reach you. It was impossible. You swore you could already feel the ground… he wouldn’t be able to do it… 

He did it.

He saved you.

He had learned his lesson. He didn’t catch you with his webs, he caught you with his arms. He made sure you wouldn’t suffer the same tragic fate as Gwen. He held you close for a long while in his arms. Underneath his mask, he was crying. 

You heard his stifled cries as he set you down and helped you stand up. You cradled his masked face with your hands. For a moment, you wanted to rip it off his face but he stopped you. You didn’t push anymore.

Not now, Peter thought. As much as he wanted to show you he was still alive. He knew that as soon as you saw his face, you would follow him back to the rooftop.

“Thank you,” you whispered. You couldn’t stop yourself from crying as well. Death has knocked on your door and you really thought it was the end.

Spider-Man held your hands in his, nodding in response to your gratefulness. He was crying too much, he couldn’t speak even if he wanted to. How could he not cry? Being able to save you was a moment of redemption for him. He hoped Gwen was proud of him.

A loud clang from the rooftop reminded him that the job was far from being finished. He let you go before crawling on the walls like a true spider.

He almost lost you and that made him angry. Now, all sympathy has left his body. Spider-Man was not going to pull his punches anymore. As he faced his opponents once again, one thing was different.

Fuck being the friendly neighborhood hero. Fuck giving second chances. Fuck hoping for people to change. He was tired of fighting, tired of always being on the defense. He was going to end this once and for all. Right now, he meant to kill.

He was going to kill MacDonald Gargan and Mitchell Gargan.

He didn’t know how it happened, but all of a sudden, Mitch Gargan’s chest was under his foot and Mac Gargan was somewhere on the rooftop with a bloody face and struggling to stand up.

Carlos and Charlene rested their backs on the ledge. They suffered a significant amount of injuries as well, but thankfully they weren’t fatal. Their bodies were exhausted though, it seemed that their legs and knees had given up and no matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t instruct their bodies to stand.

While on the ground floor alone and left with your thoughts, you decided to go back to the rooftop. It was probably a bad idea. But fuck it, you already lost Peter. You weren’t losing Spider-Man.

You were forced to take the stairs because the elevator wasn’t working. The state inside the building was absolutely horrifying. Back at your house, the only thing shown on the live footage was the action on the rooftop, it didn’t prepare you for what you were seeing right now. NYPD scattered the building, officers were roaming each floor of the building. People, both dead and injured, were being escorted out. Puddles of blood marked the floors. You knew you weren’t supposed to be in there, you would be in so much trouble if an officer saw you. But you were on a mission, so you sneaked your way up.

You arrived on the rooftop with a heavy breath. You immediately saw Carlos and Charlene who were both resting on the ledge. Their eyes were closed and their chests were heaving. You made your way over them.

“Are you alright?” you asked, kneeling in front of them. They immediately opened their eyes at the sound of your voice. “What are you doing here?” Carlos asked.

“I’m here to help,” you answered. “Are you nuts?!” Charlene yelled. “You got thrown off the building, you’re lucky you got saved, and now you’re putting yourself in danger again?!” 

“I want to help Spider-Man. I want to help you guys. I don’t wanna be left alone down there when I know the only people I care for are fighting for their lives up here.” 

“You don’t understand, Y/N. I know you only want to help. We appreciate it, we really do. But you being here will only make things worse for Pe–” Carlos stopped himself. “Spider-Man,” he finished.

“Why? What do you mean?” you asked. You could hear the fight happening behind you but you focused on your friends at the moment. “Stop asking questions and just leave,” Charlene demanded, looking at the fight behind you. 

“No. I’m staying.”

“Wha–” before Charlene could even start to scold you, you heard Carlos let out a pained sigh. You both turned to face him instantly. Carlos was holding his left side, you looked at where his hand rested and you noticed his blood start to seep through his uniform. It looked like a scorpion’s tail had pierced his side.

“You told me you were fine!” Charlene yelled at him, tears of frustration visible on her face. “I didn’t want you to worry. I’m fine. I can still fight,” Carlos reasoned but Charlene wasn’t having it. “No, you are not fine! You need help. Where’s the ambulance?” she asked you.

“It’s down there. Let’s get him down there, let me help,” you said. Charlene nodded, gathering every last bit of strength she had to stand and help the love of her life. It was crazy how love could influence your body to do things you thought were impossible before. Just minutes before, Charlene was unable to stand because of exhaustion but now she was on her husband’s side helping him. It was her love for Carlos who made that possible. You went to Carlos’ other side to help him steady himself and stand up. You guided them towards the door where you came from, the door that would take them down and out of the building. 

But the door was locked. It wouldn’t open anymore.

“What’s wrong?” Charlene noticed you struggling to open the door. “It won’t open,” you answered honestly.

“Let me try. Hold Carlos,” she told you and you followed her. No matter how hard Charlene tried to open the door, she couldn’t do it. But still, she refused to give up. It was her husband’s life on the line. While Charlene was busy thinking of ways to open the door, you set Carlos down beside the door and rested his back on the wall. You already knew that the door wasn’t going to open, but you didn’t tell Charlene to not break her heart even more. She was already under so much stress, you didn’t want to add up more to that. Instead, you started administering first aid to Carlos. You weren’t a professional, but you knew some things. Besides, Carlos guided you on what to do as he let his wife fight with the door. He didn’t want to stop her because he knew that the door was keeping her distracted from his injury. Carlos knew what to do, having had knowledge of first aid since he was an officer. You had limited supplies but you were able to clean his wound using the first aid kit that he kept on his uniform. Just as you were starting to wrap his wound, you heard Charlene kick the door and scream with frustration.

The scream was so loud it made Peter turn to look at where it came from, making Mitch grab that opportunity to hit his face with his tail and throw him off to the side. The unexpected strike from Mitch made Peter fly before he hit the floor with a smashing force. The impact of Mitch’s tail on his face was extremely hard, blood was pouring out of his nose and his head was spinning. And because his body met the floor with so much force, he was struggling to stand. The mere thing he could do at the moment was lift his head to see Mitch approaching you as you were wrapping Carlos’ wound.

Carlos’ eyes were closed as he coped with the pain of his injury, Charlene was busy kicking and punching the door, and you were busy helping Carlos. None of you realized that Mitch was approaching you.

He had never felt so helpless until now. And the fact that the person he was trying to protect was there caught up in the mess made him feel disappointed in himself. His body was recovering but it still wasn’t enough to help him stand immediately. The only thing he could do was watch as the danger got closer and closer to his best friends and the love of his life.

Before Mitch could reach you, Mac jumped in front of him and attacked his twin with a brutal face. Mitch attacked him in return. All of a sudden, the twins were battling each other. The shocking turn of events grabbed everyone’s attention. 

“You are a fucking monster. Look at you,” Mac told his twin just as he threw an impactful punch at his face.

“And you’re not?” Mitch said in return before he used his tail to attack him.

Mac was able to grip his tail with his hand before it could make an impact on his skin. “You should’ve stopped messing with chemicals before everything led to this. You’re fucking obsessed with science, look what it did to you.”

“And you’re fucking obsessed with pleasing people,” Mitch taunted. “Didn’t you volunteer to be experimented on? For what? To please Jameson. You and I are just the same.”

“At least I didn’t let an innocent girl be involved with my unhealthy obsessions.”

Mitch scoffed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I love Y/N. I’ve admired her and followed her for a long time.”

“And yet you don’t realize that she doesn’t love you? How fucking stupid are you?” Mac fired back.

“Not yet. But she will. She will love me. I will make her.”

Mitch tried to get to you again, but Mac stopped him once again. “You need to stop this. This is not your fight. You can turn back to being human, right? I can’t. You have the choice to live normally. Choose that. Live normally.”

None of you chose to intervene as the brothers spoke to each other. However, for every minute the Gargans were distracted, Peter was gathering back the strength he had lost.

Mac rested his hands on top of his twin’s shoulders. He looked him in the eye, trying to get into his soul. The world may see them as monsters right now, but deep down, Mac knew that they were just twins with broken hearts and broken dreams. “You need to realize that not all wishes come true,” he said softly.

“None of my wishes come true,” Mitch replied. “Let me have this, Mac. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Then don’t,” Mac replied. “Put a stop to these obsessions. Let the girl live her life without you in it. Look at her. She’s scared of you. She doesn’t want to be with you. End this dream of yours.”

“Why?” Mitch sneered. “What is it about your dreams that made it more important than mine?”

Everyone but the exception of you knew what Mitch was talking about. His failed dream of becoming a scientist and being unsupported for almost all his life—it made sense why he became this mad and angry.

As Mac was left speechless, Mitch strode towards you again. With Mitch’s back in front of him, Mac slashed his back with his sharp claws. Mitch hissed in pain and turned to face him to attack him back. 

There was something so heartbreaking at the sight of two brothers who resorted to violence because the world has treated them with so much cruelty. You watched as Mitch ultimately got the upper hand and trapped his brother under him. With his extremely sharp tail, he pierced his brother’s chest with no remorse. You heard Mac struggle to breathe, but he was still alive. You knew that he wouldn’t be for long.

As Mitch retrieved his tail with no mercy, Mac held his chest to stop the bleeding. Mac knew that it was the end for him too, but still, he tried to delay the inevitable. 

The moment you saw that Mitch was winning was the moment you realized that if he won he would have the chance to get you again. The fear of Mitch getting close to you again terrified you. So, you acted on fear and adrenaline and grabbed the gun from Carlos’ belt, you pointed it straight to Mitch Gargan. 

You pulled the trigger.

This time, you went for the head.

Mitch fell to the floor instantly. And all at once, reality slapped you in the face as you took in what you have done. You dropped the gun on the floor instantly as you felt everyone on the rooftop looking at you with a look of surprise plastered on their faces. Your chest started to rise and fall at an alarmingly fast rate. You could feel your lips tremble, and your hands shake. You were on the verge of a panic attack, but your quivering lips refused to call for help. Your feet were stuck on the floor and you couldn’t move as much as you tried to. 

A gentle hand touched your back and hugged you. It was Charlene. You didn’t know when she walked up to you but she was now there beside you, letting your head rest in the space between her neck and shoulder so you could hide your face from the world. You hugged her back tightly, sobbing into her shoulders as she tried to calm you down by brushing your hair with her careful fingers.

The sight broke Peter’s heart but he had one job left to do before he could come to you. He knelt down beside Mac Gargan, choosing to be beside him in his final moments. “Why the change of heart?” he asked softly, hoping to distract Mac from the excruciating pain he must be feeling.

“I’ve killed Jameson, and probably almost everyone in this building. And it felt great—the killing. I was able to take out some anger. But I’m still angry. At the world, at you, at everyone, and at myself. Then when I saw Mitch, when he fought me, I had a taste of my own medicine. I experienced what the other people experienced from me,” he coughed, blood spitting out from his mouth. “Everything has dawned on me. I realize, who am I pleasing anymore? ‘Cause it’s certainly not myself.”

“I want to thank you… for stopping Mitch from getting to Y/N,” Peter spoke. “You didn’t have to do that, but you did.”

Mac nodded before chuckling. “As much as I’d like to apologize for everything I’ve done, I know it won’t change anything…” he paused for a second. “If this is to be the last conversation I will ever have, I’d like it to be with Peter Parker. I’m not talking to a masked man. If you really want to thank me, the least you could do is remove that mask.”

Peter smiled but it faltered for a second when he noticed Mac’s breathing start to slow. He granted his final request and carefully removed his mask and revealed his face. They exchanged a smile before Mac took his final breath.

You pulled your head up from Charlene’s shoulder the moment your panic attack stopped. You hugged her again, thanking her for comforting you. As you fixed your state, you noticed Spider-Man beside Mac Gargan, talking to him about something you couldn’t hear. His masked face was facing you.

And then all of a sudden, his hand touched his face and started to slowly remove the mask that covered it. 

It was happening. You were finally going to see the man behind the spider mask…

Only for it to be the face of someone you long thought was dead and buried.

Spider-Man was Peter Parker.

“Peter?” you couldn’t believe the sight in front of you. Peter, your best friend, and the love of your life, was alive and breathing. He stood up as soon as he heard your voice. You walked towards him.

You cradled his face with your shaking hands, tracing every feature of the face you thought you’d never see again. Suddenly, your cheeks were stained with tears that continuously flowed. You cried out of anger, out of pain, out of elation, out of everything. “What the fuck!” you slapped his chest. “I thought you were dead! I believed you were dead!”

“I know–I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” you scoffed. “Sorry?! I was miserable! You just left me–” your breath hitched as you sobbed. “You just left me all alone. I grieved for you, I mourned you. There were days… a lot of them… where I couldn’t get out of bed because the thought of you buried six feet deep underground left me suffering with so much pain that I became numb. I couldn’t even move, Peter.”

“I’m sorry,” he cried.

“The moment you died, I felt lifeless too,” you told him.

“Y/N, please,” he tried to hug you but you stepped back.

“It’s so unfair!” you screamed, exhausted. “You’re fucking unfair. You were hiding behind a fucking mask as Spider-Man, talking to me and listening to me while I was mourning you. How could you do that? How could you enter my life as someone else? You witnessed me crying for you and yet you still chose to put up an act.”

“I did it to protect you.”

“Well, look at me now. I just killed someone. I’m still heavily involved in this mess. You can’t stop everything from happening.”

“I know that now, and trust me, I’m disappointed in myself as well. Just listen to me, please,” he pleaded.

“You didn’t just mess with my heart, Peter. You messed with my life.”

“Please! Y/N…” he cried out. He was scared of losing you again. “You’re allowed to get angry. I understand why you’re mad at me but please just listen. Hear me out, at least.” 

You looked at him with your tearful eyes. As much as you hated him right now, your love for him was so much bigger than the anger you were feeling. “Go ahead,” you replied.

“I never told you how Gwen died,” he swallowed. “She died because of me. I have a lot of enemies. As Spider-Man, I bear heavy responsibilities that come with the power I have. As long as I’m Spider-Man, there’s always going to be danger following my footsteps. I…” he paused. “I bring harm to people close to me, to people that I care for and love. Years ago, I fought a friend turned enemy. Gwen was there, she was so adamant about helping me and I will always regret that I let her. He dropped Gwen through the top of a clock tower and I was able to catch her. But when Harry and I fought again, one thing led to another, she got caught up in the mess and fell. I tried to save her, I-I caught her with my webs but–but my webs weren’t enough.”

You didn’t dare to speak and let him say everything he needed to say.

“You know that thing that happened to you just moments ago? When Mitch threw you off the building and you almost fell to your death? That’s almost exactly what happened to Gwen years ago. The only difference is she didn’t survive because I failed to save her,” his lips started to quiver but he continued to talk. “What almost happened to you was the reason I didn’t tell you I was Spider-Man. It was why I chose to pretend I was dead because I’d rather be out of your life than bring harm to it.”

“Peter, I…”

“I don’t wanna lose anyone anymore, Y/N…” he sobbed. “I’m tired of visiting graves, tired of saving other people when I couldn’t even save the ones closest to me. I know I hurt you, but it hurt me to do it too. Please understand, Y/N. I’m not forcing you to forgive me, I just need you to understand.”

You hugged him tightly, letting his head rest on your shoulder. He closed his eyes.

“I’m sorry… I was stupid. I saw a major threat and my first instinct was to get you out of my life. But then I realized that I can’t function properly when I’m not with you, so I entered your life as Spider-Man. I-I was gonna tell you the truth eventually, I swear,” he confessed.

You were certain you knew Peter before, but now you saw him in an entirely different light. “I can’t forgive you right now. You left my life, you can’t just walk right in and expect that everything will be the same…” you told him with full honesty. “But I do understand you, Peter. I have some secrets too that I haven’t told you—about my parents and my past.”  

He looked up to meet your eyes. He knew you still loved him, and he was going to do everything to make it up to you. “If you’re still up to it, can we start again?” he asked.

“This time, no secrets,” you added.

He nodded. 

“I have an idea,” you said.

“Hmm?”

“What if you move in with me?” you asked him, saying the exact same thing he said when he first offered you to be his roommate. “Be roommates with me?” you smirked.

“Deal,” he answered, also saying the word you said when you accepted his offer back then. He laughed before letting his forehead gently touch yours.

“I love you, Peter.”

“I know,” he teased. “I read your texts.”

“And?” you asked cheekily.

“And I love you too, Y/N. With all of my being.”

His lips met yours passionately. The kiss wasn’t just a declaration of love but also a sharing of understanding between the two of you. Every kept-up emotion you and Peter buried inside yourselves was poured into that kiss. When the two of you opened your eyes and pulled away to catch your breaths, you saw that Carlos was lifted up by a helicopter and was immediately sent to the hospital. Charlene went as well. 

Peter immediately put on his mask again when he noticed the medics walking up to both of you. When they reached you to offer their help, you accepted it while Spider-Man declined. However, when they lead you to another helicopter that will direct you to the hospital, he insisted on staying with you. The authorities didn’t dare to disagree.

6 MONTHS LATER.

A lot has happened in the course of 6 months.

After the tragedy, the whole city of New York was left in mourning. People from all over the world heard the news. Some of your friends from other countries even called you to check up on you. You told them you were fine. They didn’t need to know the truth.

J. Jonah Jameson and everyone in the Daily Bugle building that day was recognized for their contribution to the journalism world. There was no Daily Bugle for a couple of months to give way for its rebuilding and out of respect for everyone who passed away. When the news program came back, the Daily Bugle was relocated to a new building because the old building held so much tragedy and trauma. 

Spider-Man made a deal with the government, he told them everything—including the names of everyone involved in Mac Gargan’s experiment, the people that Jameson mentioned were his and Stillwell’s ‘trusted friends’. In exchange, he asked them not to reveal the scorpions’ real identities. In the eyes of the public, MacDonald and Mitchell Gargan were just two unfortunate souls who got involved in the fight and died. As for Jameson, because his ‘trusted friends’ were now in jail, they got angry and revealed to the public that Jameson was also involved. To save his reputation in the slightest bit, Spider-Man spoke to the public that Jameson was only forced to do it and he was only threatened to have the experiment be conducted in his basement. The people believed Spider-Man.

As for Carlos and Charlene, they moved out of their old house and purchased a home that was situated near yours. A home where Carlos was finally free to design with as many bonsai trees as he liked. Since some of the officers were in jail because of their involvement with the scorpion experiment, they both got promoted and Charlene became the head of NYPD.

As for you, you weren’t afraid to go to your late parents’ room anymore. In fact, after the window that Mitch Gargan broke was fixed, you claimed it as your room and Peter claimed your old room. You both agreed on still having separate rooms, although most nights, you slept beside each other in one of them. About your job, you transferred back to Greta Marketing Co. in New York, and because Mitch was gone, you took up his position. You and Charlene also discovered that it was her brother who died with your father in that accident. After that discovery, you two became closer and treated each other as sisters.

As for Peter, he kept his close friends closer and loved you more than ever. He told you everything about his past and how he was feeling every time. He kept his word when he agreed that there will be no more secrets between you. When you told him about your past, including the significance of the window and the bed in your room, he empathized with you even more. 

The truth was, you and Peter have already lost a lot of important people in your lives, forcing both of you to build up a wall to surround yourselves in hopes of protecting yourselves from experiencing the hurt that comes with yet another loss.

But with life came the death, and with beginning came the end. Loss in life was inevitable, and building up a wall would only create a barrier that would stop you from enjoying life as it was. The two of you realized that. So, each and every day, little by little, you were breaking down his wall and he was breaking yours.

Two broken people were healing each other.

“I’m sleepy,” you yawned. You had your head on his shoulder as the two of you watched a movie in your room.

Peter chuckled. “Go ahead, sleep. I’ll stay here,” he replied. He adjusted your head in a more comfortable position. The television was still playing but his mind was somewhere else.

He mused about how love came with realizations.

When you love, you were bound to take risks.

When you love, you were bound to shed tears.

When you love, you were bound to wait.

When you love, you were bound to feel pain.

And as Peter kissed your forehead while you were sound asleep, he revisited all the risks he took, the tears he shed, the moments he had to wait, and the pain he had to endure just to have you here, beside him, where he could finally call you his, and him, yours.

You were worth it all.

SLYTHERHEIGN TAGLIST: @writingstoraes @joshiiieeenesx

TASM!PETER PARKER TAGLIST: @mymilkducts @i-am-woman-strong @lauraneedstochill @jeanettexkillian @ms-mandalore @enaraism @alessandralol @sad-darksoul @sincericida @mentallystablepotato @mich0731 @logolepsic-insomniac @k0miiki @dreamsarecloserwithyou @jumilzzz @primroseparker @preciousbabypeter @myheartonthemove @rebecca-johnson-28 @silkholland @ellievickstar @okkulta @geekygamerchick @starqwerty20 ​ @the-quiet-observer @softiepeterpan @willowhaired @sflame15-blog

a letter from the author:

this is it! WORTH: THE SERIES has finally ended. thank you so much for being with me as i ventured through the world of peter, y/n, carlos, and charlene. this series took almost a year to make. after 5 parts and thousands of words, we have reached the finish line. i’m forever grateful for all the support and patience you’ve given this story. worth the risk was the first imagine i ever posted on tumblr, and since then i have gained a lot of friends from this app. i hope you’ll stay with me because WTS may be done, but there is more to come from this writer.

love, rheign.

[ficthots]

Destined for Greatness

A/N: Hi everyone! I hope you all enjoy the new area I’m dabbling in. This is the longest fic I have ever written and I am so in love with it. As always let me know what you guys think & enjoy!

Word Count: 16k+

Warnings: Smut, 18+ content, DNI if you are under 18!

A lot of things in your life were accidents, including yourself. When you were six and learning to ride a bike and crashed head first into your neighbors mailbox, that was an accident. When you were fourteen and forgot to scan your mascara at the self checkout at Walmart, that was an accident. When you were seventeen and turned in your best friend's homework instead of your own, that was an accident. The biggest accident of all was you, though.

Your mom accidentally found herself pregnant with you when she was only seventeen. She was in no shape to have a child and immediately shunned you when you were born.  To say you had little to no relationship with her was an understatement. She was a wanderer and would go without contact for years at a time, randomly popping up to send you a text asking if you had fifty dollars to send her. You didn’t hate her anymore, as you grew up you understood that she was just a child when she had you, in no place to raise a baby and you couldn’t hold that against her anymore. Especially when you realized who you did have in your life, particularly grandma Elise.

Your grandmother stepped up to the parenting plate instead, taking you and raising you as her own. She had been single most of her life, losing her husband when your mom was only twelve and raised you on her own. You would do anything for her. She was your anchor and your everything. The only family you had. Except for the family next door.

Grandma Elise was a New York transplant, moving into the city when she was in her twenties to chase a life she wasn’t sure of. She stumbled into a friendship with May after she began working at a local diner to pay for her next meal, quickly moving in together and becoming attached at the hip thereafter.  When Elise brought you home to the small two bedroom townhouse, May was there to help.

Your little life with your grandma and neighbors was wonderful. Little six year old you knew no different after all, but when a little boy, who was just a hair shorter than you, was sitting on May’s porch steps that fall afternoon, you didn’t realize just how much your life would change. You battled within yourself if you should go talk to him when your grandmother came up next to you, crouching down at the window to see what you were looking at. She nudged you, sending you a wink as she encouraged you to go introduce yourself. Still hesitant about the decision, you took in a deep breath as you opened your front door and set your sights on the house next door.

You made your way across the yards and smiled at the young boy, offering a small wave, trying to keep a distance of a few feet between the two of you. He looked at you through his glasses, eyes squinting to see you in the sun, hand smushed to his chin, holding a stick with his other hand.

“Do you know May and Ben?” You finally worked up the courage to ask. He nodded his head, eyes falling back down to the stick in his grasp. “They’re my aunt and uncle. Do you live next door?” You mimicked his movement, nodding your head and letting your eyes fall to your sandals.

Standing in silence, slowly bouncing between leaning on either of your legs, you finally offered your name, asking him if he wanted to ride bikes. He sighed and looked back up at you. “I don’t have a bike. I have a skateboard though,” he pushed his thumb to the side, pointing at a small piece of wood on four wheels.

You smiled and walked up to him, moving the board back and forth, “I’ve never ridden one before. Is it hard?” He watched you carefully, before he dropped the stick and picked up the board, walking to the sidewalk a few steps away.

He shrugged, getting on and pushing with ease as your jaw fell slack at how easy he moved. He went around the street easily before coming back in front of you, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You wanna try?” You nodded eagerly as you carefully got on the board, one hand holding onto the mailbox in front of you.

He tried to show you how to balance yourself, stumbling over his words as he attempted to teach you how to properly ride his skateboard. In a split second, the board shot out from under your feet and you fell flat on your butt. You stared at each other in shock before laughing together.

The boy ran to grab his board as it rolled into the street, you stood back up and watched as the boy approached, taking him in. His brown hair was neatly combed and styled, his part to the right, his black rimmed glasses sat high on his nose, he wore a striped t-shirt with black shorts and worn out converse with no socks.

When he stood in front of you again he offered another smile. “I’m Peter. You wanna try again? I won’t let you fall this time, deal?” You peered at his outstretched hand in front of you, taking it in yours with a firm shake as you let a smile form on your face again. You two didn’t even notice that your grandma and his aunt were standing between the two yards, smiles adorning their features as they watched you two quickly bond.

Peter did not hold out to his deal, by the end of the day your knees were badly scraped and your elbows ached, but you had never had so much fun. Neither of you wanted to go inside that night as the street lights turned on, your grandma calling you inside for dinner. Peter cocked his head as he saw the older woman in the doorway. “Do you live with your grandma?” You turned and looked to see her back to you two, heading back inside. Nodding your head in response as you turned to look at him again, hands clasped tightly together behind your back you quickly spoke. “My mom left when I was born and I don’t know my dad. I’ve lived here my whole life,” he smiled softly at you when May called out to him from the front window.

“I have to go, Aunt May made meatloaf. It’s really good you should try it,” you giggled at him as you waved bye, saying you would see him tomorrow. The next morning you waited out front for Peter and you two walked to school together, forming a habit that would happen everyday until graduation. When you arrived at school you showed him your desk and forced one of your classmates out of their desk next to yours so Peter could sit next to you.

That was just the start of the friendship that you two would have. You had never connected with someone quicker than Peter. He was like your other half, your confidant, your partner in crime. When one of you appeared everyone knew the other was only half a second behind. It was how you two functioned. You knew Peter was destined for greatness, it was just the type of personality he had, you just didn’t know how it would come to him.  

Peter was honestly the smartest person you had ever met and as he excelled in every subject known to man, you floundered in math and science. He tutored you almost every night, screaming matches ensuing as he grew frustrated because you just couldn’t get chemistry. After you two had finished another argument you noticed how close he was to you. “Parker, I swear to God if you don’t get out of my face in the next ten seconds, I’m gonna drop your ass so fast you won’t even see it coming,” he leaned forward, practically nose to nose with you. “I’d love to see you try, sweetheart,” the pet name that he only used when he was trying to taunt you slipped from his lips, setting your skin on fire with anger.

Your hand clamped onto the back of his neck as you flew out of your desk chair, you both hit your bedroom floor with a thump as you two fought for dominance. When he began to pin your left hand to the floor, you used your right to pinch him on his side. A loud hiss escaped his mouth as he faltered, letting you go.

The bedroom door flew open and your grandma stood there with her arms crossed as she saw you laying on top of Peter, hurling curse words at one another. “Are you kidding me? Knock it off you two! You're making the whole damn house shake,” you both stopped, out of breath at the small exertion and sat opposite each other. Your back was leaning against your bed, his straight against the wall, legs outstretched against one another.

When you both calmed down he held his hand out to you, your hand wrapped around his as you both stood with each other, taking your respective spots at your desk. The heels of your hands pushed into your eyes, rubbing hard as you sighed. “I just can’t get this Peter, my brain doesn’t function like yours. I’m gonna fail chem, it’s fine,” he shook his head, hand coming to the back of your head and forcing you to look at the homework and lab sheets laid out in front of you.

“No, it’s my personal mission to have you pass, okay? You’re gonna get this, I promise,” you rolled your eyes, knowing Peter’s promises were a 50/50 shot at coming through or not. This was a time that the 50/50 odds leaned in your favor, allowing you to pass your class and move forward to senior year.

You two had big plans for senior year, applying for colleges, internships, all the works. A few things happened that were not in the plans, one being Ben dying. It had rattled you all, Peter couldn’t sleep at his home for weeks, opting for your floor or bed instead. You helped May around her house as often as you could, your grandma practically moved in with her to make sure she would continue to function. Your attention went to Peter, trying to help him with the grief that overpowered him at times in ways you just didn’t understand. He acted like he had killed him, not some low life mugger, but he wouldn’t listen to that. It was around the same time Peter started going through changes that were not in the plans for senior year either.

You noticed he had been acting weird, his reflexes were on another level for example. The previous week you had knocked over a soda off his desk and he caught it so quickly that nothing spilled out of it. It was falling, turning upside down. You two stared at each other, before he awkwardly cleared his throat, moving on like nothing had happened.

He was constantly warm, like he was his own personal heater. On your way home from school, in the middle of winter, you stood on his board as he lightly held your hand, dragging you along because you never did learn how to ride it, and the wind was whipping against your face. Your eyes watered, you felt like ice, but Peter was warmer than ever.

His strength was out of control, but you knew Peter did not work out. His shirts fit tighter than normal, at times straining against his arms.  His veins in his hands and forearms were more prominent. Should you have been looking at him wondering what those veins would look like, flexed, as he used them for some extracurricular activities? Probably not, but shoot you. You’re only human!

Peter bumped into you one night, trying to maneuver around you in the kitchen and when his shoulder collided with your chest, you clutched at the spot, wind knocking out of you. “What the fuck, Peter?” His eyes were wide as he set the plates down on the counter behind him as he started quickly uttering apologies. His large hand went over the contact spot, rubbing hard on your sternum, shaking you. “You’re good, champ. Shake it off,” you scoffed at him as he went back to what he was doing.

You were starting to worry when he was coming to school with insane bruises all over him. His face, neck, hands, every part you could see. He refused to tell you what was going on, offering lame lies instead that he must’ve known you didn’t believe. How many times can you fall in the shower? He stopped responding to texts between ten pm and four am, when he had never missed texts from you before, middle of the night be damned. You were fed up and decided to take matters into your own hands.

Finding the ladder at the back of his house, you pushed it up against the side of the house, starting your ascent to his window. You knew about his bedroom locks, he had even installed them on your bedroom door. When you reached his window you pushed up, climbing inside and trying to dodge the small bookshelf and not step on something disgusting that covered the entire floor of his room.

Empty. You muttered under your breath as you checked your phone. 1:42 am and he was nowhere to be found. As you started looking around you saw a sewing machine sitting in his closet, making your eyebrows furrow. Since when did he sew? His camera and backpack were gone. Your eyes drifted over the small cork board above his desk. Your eyes scanned the million pictures of you and him, candid shots of you, pictures of Aunt May and your grandma, you smiled.

What was most definitely not in the plans for senior year was Peter becoming a superhero and instant celebrity for New York. You hear him fall through the window behind you and as you turn, arms crossed over your chest ready to give him the third degree, your jaw fell open at the sight before you. Your best friend stood there, head to toe in spandex, hands raised in front of you.

“Okay, let me explain,” your hand clamped over your mouth as he pulled the mask off, revealing it was not in fact a one piece suit like you originally presumed. His hair was a complete mess, sticking up in a million different directions, which was turning into his daily look more often than not. Now you know why.  

He had a large cut on his cheek, his eyes were wide, trying to gauge your reaction. There was an awkward silence between you two as your eyes scoured over him multiple times when you knew you needed to say something.

“Do you do cosplay now?” was all you muttered out behind your hand, trying to think of a reasonable explanation for this because Peter was most definitely not Spider-Man. He was the least coordinated person you knew and from the videos you had seen of the vigilante it could not have been your best-friend of nearly thirteen years. The man couldn’t go a day without tripping over something and swinging from buildings without colliding into them, it was just in no way possible. Yet as you stared at him and weighed the odds, the truth settled over you.

His hands dropped to his side, his head falling forward as his eyes shut, a laugh falling from his mouth. “Yes, I do cosplay now. I go out in the middle of the night and take pictures of myself to post on a super cool blog I have,” you couldn’t fight that smile that was breaking through your faux steely demeanor. You two started laughing and before you knew it you were hunched over, out of breath, tears streaming down your cheeks as Peter was on his knees, hands braced in front of him on the floor, trying to catch his breath.

When you two calmed down you walked over to him, tangling your hand in his hair and pulling his head back to meet your gaze. “Oh you have so much explaining to do, Spider-Boy,” he chuckled and stood up, grabbing your hand to sit you on the bed. “For starters, it’s Spider-Man,” he said, standing in front of you, peeling the suit off as he started explaining how it happened.

You two talked for hours that night as you gently put Neosporin over his cut even though he assured you it would be gone in a few hours, but you couldn’t trust that, explaining how infections worked to him. He let you do it every time though and let you ask all the questions you could think of even well after the sun had come up. He even let you look at the web shooters he had made, accidentally setting it off and watching it hit the wall with a loud splat.

Peter laid back on his pillow, letting you rest your head on his chest, snuggling into his side, realizing how much you had missed your other half the last few months. Your regular sleepovers had all but ended, but the comfort of Peter was like home. His soft t-shirt under your cheek, the warmth radiating from him, his steady heartbeat pounding beneath your ear. His familiar scent of cinnamon and cedarwood drifting to your nose and another note that was just simply Peter all but calmed your nerves about his secret life. You trusted him, he knew what he was doing even if you didn’t like it.

You were drifting into sleep, Peter a step ahead of you when you mumbled out to him, “Peter?” He hummed in response, hand rubbing your arm. “Can you take me flying tomorrow?” He chuckled, lips landing on the crown of your head. “Whatever you want, sweetheart,” and for the first time, the pet name didn’t irk you.

That became a regular occurrence on his patrol nights. He would fall into your room and you had a secret stash of medical supplies under your bed that you would pull out, half asleep, and dress his wounds as he went over his nights with you. Sometimes your hands lingered too long and you were worried he was going to catch it, but if he did he never said anything.

Your hands were trembling as you stood in line, waiting for your name to be called, Peter nowhere to be found. It was graduation day and by some dumb luck you had managed to graduate with honors the same as Pete. You were terrified you were going to trip and as that thought crept into your head, forcing you to realize just how embarrassing that would be, you heard that familiar voice behind you, making you jump.

“Don’t worry babe, I won’t let you fall,” you turned quickly and saw his backpack on his gown, but before you could say anything your name echoed through the speakers, your grandma and May cheering for you as Peter nudged you forward, right on your heels as his name was right after.

Once the ceremony ended you found yourself hugging your small friend group that you had grown fond of over the course of high school, offering congratulations to them all when you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around you from behind and hurl you into the air. The small scream that flew from your mouth was traumatizing, your nails clawing into his arm, cap falling off.

His laugh boomed as he set you down, catching your cap in the process. You whipped around, too damn happy to be mad at him and threw yourself in his arms. The familiar grasp around your waist made your heart flutter as you jumped up and down, shouting the entire time. “We did it! We’re fucking done!” he followed your same chant, starting to jump with you when your grandma and May found you both.

“Come on, picture time!” You leaned into Peter’s side, head resting between his shoulder and chest, arms wrapping around his waist as they snapped pictures, your smile the biggest it had been. “So, Spidey duties were absolutely necessary minutes before our graduation?” you mumbled out to him so your guardians couldn’t hear. He pinched your side, forcing a giggle to bubble from your throat. “It absolutely was, but I made it in time,” you looked up at your best friend, his large chocolate eyes piercing your own.

“I thought you weren’t showing and were gonna let me walk alone, possibly even letting me trip up the steps in these death straps,” you gently kicked his leg trying to show him the wedges you were wearing, but his eyes never left yours. As you continued to talk, he smirked, lips finding your hairline. “Never sweetheart,” your cheeks flushed when your grandma finally called out to you both saying we were going out to dinner.

Peter squeezed your arm as he pulled away saying he was going to talk to some friends real fast before we left. You walked over to the ladies, wanting to see the pictures, when you felt eyes on your back. Elise and May both said to meet them at the curb when we were ready. You barely responded as you looked around and when your eyes met the lanky figure across the field your breath caught in your throat.

She looked like hell. Skinnier than the last time you saw her, veins prevalent on her arms, hair scraggly, but you could tell she had put on her best dress for the event. You fought within yourself if you needed to walk over and say something or just turn and walk away, but before you could make a decision your legs started moving in that direction anyways.

Her smile filled her features, not quite reaching her eyes as you approached her. “Oh honey, you look beautiful. I’m so proud of you,” you stood about a foot away from her as she tried to reach out to touch you, but you immediately flinched back. “What’re you doing here?” she seemed taken aback by your question, but plastered the same fake smile on her face.

“I’m here to see my baby graduate of course,” you shook your head, trying to not meet her gaze that stared straight into you. “I’m not your baby. Really, what’re you doing here?” She faltered, hands shaking as her eyes darted around. “Sweetheart,” your eyes snapped up to her, stepping back as the name fell from her lips. She wasn’t allowed to call you that, it didn’t hold the same meaning. It sat in the air between you two, seeping into your skin, making you feel nauseous.

Before she could continue you felt a tall figure take their place behind you, hand slipping to your waist and pulling you back into him. Her smile grew as she took in the boy behind you. “Oh my god, Peter! You’ve gotten so big,” you didn’t need to see his face to know he wasn’t offering her the same kindness in return.

“May and Elise are waiting, we need to go,” he gently started pushing you towards your family, leaning forward to whisper in your ear that he’d meet you in a second. As you started to walk away, you spared a glance back at Peter and your mom. He pulled his wallet out of his pocket, but you turned back around before you could see what he was going to give her.

Your eyes stung, your nose became full, you dropped your head, going to hide behind a brick wall that was home to the park's bathrooms. You fell into a squat along the wall, trying your hardest to fight the tears that threatened to fall. Anger coursed through you at the women that had abandoned you, left you behind, and only showed up for money. On your graduation day no less and yet you felt pain for her.

Your heart ached for the woman that knew no better and could only think about contacting her family for money. Whatever she used it for, you didn’t care. It didn’t take the sting away whenever she made her appearance though. You saw the dirty converse make their way into your eyeline and two hands cradled each side of your face, his long fingers resting behind your ears.

“Hey, hey, hey. You’re alright, c’mere,” he pulled you up and into his embrace, locking his arms around you as you calmed down, breathing him in, letting it act as some sort of aromatherapy to you. His hands drifted back to your face, forcing you to look up at him. “I took care of it, okay? I don’t want you to worry about her anymore. Now we’re going to go to a nice dinner with Elise and May and eat as much sushi as you possibly can, alright? I talked them into all you can eat sushi and I have been starving myself all damn day to eat as much as I possibly can and you’re going to join me in that,” you let a wet laugh come through your tears, letting the pads of his thumbs brush over the tracks on your cheeks.

His lips found your forehead, one hand on your jaw, the other cradling the back of your head. “Do I look like I’ve been crying?” You tried to make a serious face looking up at him and he bit back a smile, tilting his head. “I’m sorry, but yes. You’re totally swollen like you just ate a fuck ton of salt,” you smacked his hands off of you, stomping off towards your parents as he trailed behind, trying to make it better, but only making it worse.

You had a caterpillar roll halfway in your mouth when your grandma took out an envelope addressed to both you and Peter. His eyes lit up as you gently took it from her hand, eyes narrowing at her as you set your chopsticks down. “I thought we said no gifts,” she rolled her eyes, May looking entirely too nervous.

“Now, this is from the both of us, we hope you guys like it,” your gaze softened towards May as you flipped the envelope over, pulling at the back. Your eyes met Peter’s, his brow pulled together indicating he had no clue about it either. You pulled out a card titled “To the Graduates”, you and Peter both read the small script on the front as you opened the card and saw two tickets taped to the card.

You pulled them off, reading the top one. A train ticket up the coast to Maine, a place you and Peter had always talked about wanting to visit, mainly for the crabs and lobsters, but for their beautiful history and beaches too. Always imagining a vacation away from everything. Where he could abandon Spider-Man duties for just a few days and where you could read as much as possible on the beach. A dream you shared often that you didn’t think would be possible. At least not for a few years, maybe after college. There had been so many nights spent laying together and whispering about what you would do on vacation and heavy sighs that would follow, knowing how far that trip was from the present. But now the two most amazing people in the world made it reality for you two and you didn’t know what to do. Your hand came to your mouth, eyes watering for a second time that day as you looked at the two women sitting across from you that would give you both the world two times over if they could and you only hoped you would do it for them too.

Your grandma cleared her throat before continuing. “We got you a two week long trip up the coast to Maine. Honey, you remember that your grandfather has a house up there that’s been sitting unused for one too many summers and we want you both to take the trip. You more than deserve it. All expenses paid, including food and tickets,” you looked at Peter to see him biting his lip, a small sniffle escaping him as you both stood up and went to hug them.

Your arms wrapped around May first, nuzzling your head into the side of her face, murmuring a thousand thank yous before going to your grandma, switching with Peter as he went to his aunt. You kissed them both and wiped your tears, looking at Peter with a huge smile. “I’m so happy right now,” he grabbed you in his arms and pulled back quickly, looking at the tickets. “Holy shit they’re for the day after tomorrow,” you both sat back down, pulling out your phones to start looking at everything you wanted to do on your trip, only letting yourself overthink for a second when you saw him open the notes app on his phone. The note titled ‘Our Dreams’.

Your head leaned on the window, watching the coast fly by as your feet sit on Peter’s lap, when you hear a snap. You look at the boy sitting across from you, seeing how the sunset took over his features, turning him into a golden glow. His soft hair was tousled, slightly falling over his forehead, he had just gotten a haircut so the sides were a bit shorter than you were used to. His jaw was as sharp as ever and when he looked up to meet your gaze his eyes looked like honey. His dorky smile took over his face and you gave a soft smile back to him.

“You’re so pretty, you know that?” You told him as he pulled the camera up to his eye, one hand holding it firm from underneath as he snapped another picture of you. “Don’t worry, you’re still the prettier one, but I am aware of how gorgeous I am,” he mumbled as the shutter clicked. You lightly kicked his stomach as he said that, a snort falling from your lips. “I can’t believe we’re actually doing this. You think New York’s okay with Spider-Man for that long?” his smile grew as he looked at you. “They survived seventeen years without me. I think they can manage two weeks, yeah?” you giggled as he kept talking.

“It’s crazy, right? I don’t know how they managed to pull this off without us knowing,” you two continued to talk before the train pulled to a stop. Peter quickly gathered your bags and slung his backpack on, ushering you towards the exit as you grabbed the duffle bag from his shoulder. “Just cause you’re Spider-Man doesn’t mean I can’t carry my own bag,” he rolled his eyes, continuing to push you forward. As soon as you stepped off, your Uber sat parked and waiting. A thirty minute drive had you pulling up to a small white shack sitting on an isolated part of the coast. Your eyes slipped shut, hearing the waves crash on the shore, the smell filling your senses.

Keys jingling pulled you back to the moment, seeing Peter hold the keys, moving towards the house. When he unlocked the front door, you both stepped in. The walls were decorated with typical coastal decor, lots of blue, seashells, anchors, stripes, nautical everything.

The sun was dipping into the horizon, a clear view from the back door and porch as you dropped your bags and took off running. Peter came from behind, his arm wrapping around you throwing you over his shoulder as he ran you both to the water, screams and laughs falling from your lips as you both fell into the water.

The two weeks flew by. Peter was unbelievably tan, with the sunkissed look he looked like a complete Greek God. You had read over twenty books in the two weeks, hardly ever leaving the beach. You two had explored the entire area, eating at almost every place you could,wandered through all the shops, and you had never seen him take so many pictures before. He claimed his muse was the happiest she had ever been.

It was your last night of the trip and you were on cloud nine. You laid on the beach, Peter right next to you, his arm brushing yours. Your skin felt like it was on fire from where it had touched him. It was happening more often and it made your head swirl. This wasn’t anyone else, it was Peter. You were falling for him and it was exciting, but terrifying. You couldn’t risk anything happening between you two. If you lost his friendship it would be the end of you.

You couldn’t ignore that Peter had been looking at you differently and his gazes were lingering longer than normal on you. You admit, you both had been touchier than normal, his hands on you more than usual. You loved it, longed for it, and craved it. It would ruin everything you two had together, but the more it happened the more you thought about what could be. He meant too much to you, but you wouldn’t lie to yourself, it was getting harder to act like it meant nothing.

He cleared his throat, making you realize you had been staring at him for too long. Your face burned as his smile grew wider. He sat up and grabbed his backpack. “Elise made me promise to wait until the last day to give this to you,” he pulled out a card from his backpack and handed you the envelope.

It was almost identical to the one she had given you for graduation, but this one was only addressed to you. You sat up and moved to sit in between his legs, settling down and leaning back against his firm torso. His head rested on your shoulder, peering down at the card you were pulling out.

One of your arms draped over his knee as you began to read.

My darling girl, I cannot begin to put into words how proud I am of you and the woman you’ve become. You continue to amaze me everyday with how resilient, smart, and strong you are. I know you’ve dealt with so much, but I have some more to tell you. 

You never met your grandfather, but he was the most wonderful man I’ve ever met. I wish you could’ve met him, he would’ve loved you darling girl. His family was from New York and he had lived here his entire life, but his family spent the summers at that beach house you’re at. I wanted you to go there to get a glimpse at what your grandfathers and my life was like when we were younger.

Your grandfather had property set aside for your mother. I don’t think I will ever be able to apologize enough for what happened to her and the pain I feel seeing what she’s doing to herself is just a reminder of what could’ve been for her. You, my darling girl deserve the world and more. I want to give you the apartment he had set aside for your mother.

It’s not much, but a small two bedroom one bathroom apartment that we had lived in at one time. When he passed it was too difficult for me to stay, but I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of the apartment and stuck to his wishes to keep it for Dahlia. But it’s yours now. You can choose what to do with the extra space, I have a feeling I know what you’ll do, but it’s yours. It’s time for me to move on from my New York dreams. I think I achieved them all anyway. I’m coming to live at the beach house, to spend my time resting after the work I’ve done. I’ll be a phone call away whenever you need me, but I know you’re ready for what’s next in your story. You always are.

I love you more than anything and always will. You're my girl. Always. Grandma Elise

Your sobs hiccuped in your throat as you finished the note, tightly grasping the key in one hand that tumbled from the note when you had opened it, Peter holding you as you cried. He kissed your temple as you wiped harshly at your face. You never knew your grandfather, your grandma didn’t speak of him much, it caused too much pain for her and you didn’t want to pry into a part of her life she didn’t feel like sharing.

Yet after this trip and with the note that you would cherish for the rest of your life your heart broke at the thought of her relocating up here, so far from you, but you knew it was her turn. Her turn to continue her life however she wanted and whatever that would entail for her.

You turned your head, pushing your face into Peter’s neck as you whispered up to him, “I want you to come with me. Move in with me to the apartment,” he nodded his head, as he gently took your face in his hands.

Your breath hitched in your throat as his plush lips met yours. You eagerly met his kiss, hand stuck to his throat as he licked your bottom lip begging for entry and you opened for him. A small moan escaped your throat as he explored you in an entirely new way, you turned to face him, hands landing on both his thighs.

His hands landed in your hair, one tangling in the locks and gently tugging, pulling a gasp from your lips that he instantly swallowed. You stopped, putting your hands on his chest, leaning back from him. You two were panting and you rested your forehead against his and you shook your head. “Pete, we can’t do this,” you whispered to him and he shut his eyes.

He nodded his head and kissed the tip of your nose, “I know, I know,” he mumbled and you smiled at him. Your hand cradling his jaw, a small, pained smile coming across your features. “I love you, you know that?” He returned the smile and chuckled under his breath. “Don’t get soft on me. C’mon let’s go pack,” he stood, taking your hand in his, wrapping his arms around you after he pulled you up. You savored the moment, feeling his warm skin pressed to you, your arms wrapped tightly around his stomach, trying to fight back the feelings that were quickly bubbling up and were getting harder and harder to deny.

When you two returned from your trip life swept you both up in a whirlwind. Your grandma moved the following week, school was going to be starting soon, and you and Peter were packing everything to get moved into the new apartment. You hopped between homes all the time, asking if he had towels that he could bring or if you needed to bring them. Your grandma let you both take the furniture from the townhome that had been your home your entire life.

The last night was harder than you thought. You crept into your grandma’s room, seeing only a blow up mattress on the floor. You shuffled in the door as she turned and saw you. “It’s weird seeing it so empty, huh?” she asked you and her breath caught in her throat, trying to bite back tears. You hurried to her side, laying next to her in bed as she started smoothing your hair down. “When I brought you here I didn’t know what I was going to do. I was terrified. I didn’t have Mark anymore, Dahlia was god knows where, and May and Ben were the only people there,” you sat quietly listening to her share something she never had before.

She was a secret person, you knew that, and you relished in moments where she let you into glimpses of her life that she had buried away. “I hadn’t seen Mark’s family since he had died. They never liked me much, and completely blamed me for what happened with your mom. I do think some of it was my fault, but it was so hard without her father. I lost a part of me that day,” you sat there, trying to think about what would happen if you lost Peter.

You weren’t sure you would ever be able to recover from that. An entire part of you would be ripped away, the better part of you. He made you better. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing the thoughts to go away. “But everything turned out alright. You grew up and became the most wonderful person. I’m so happy you have Peter to share your moments with. You’ll be good with him, I know it,” you smiled listening to her. You knew everything would be fine as long as Peter was there for it.

The next six months passed in an absolute blur. You both moved into the apartment, started school, you began working at your dream job in a museum as a museum assistant, and Peter was busier than ever with Spider-Man and school. You hardly saw him more than once a week if you were lucky and even then it was in passing. He hadn’t stopped coming into your room in the middle of the night for you to take care of his wounds, but it was mainly done in silence, you were too tired to talk. He would fall asleep as you tended to him, struggling to keep his eyes open.

You had only seen your grandmother once since she had moved to Maine and it was hard. You had been feeling more alone than ever even though everything was falling into place like it should’ve been. You missed Peter. Your Peter.

After the night on the beach you two hadn’t talked about the kiss, but the tension between you two was palpable. Every time you two were together you caught yourself thinking about how amazing he felt and how right it was. Your feelings had multiplied, but you had been the one to stop and Peter made no further advances, respecting your stupid wishes. But you wish he would break them because you knew if he started up you wouldn’t be able to stop and you were becoming more okay with that.

Another day trudged along. Back to back classes, followed by a full eight hour day at work, and to top it off a blizzard was supposed to blow through that night. All you wanted to do was go home, eat some ramen, and go to bed, particularly with Peter if he was going to be home, but you highly doubted it. You were the last out of the building, shooting Peter a text and letting him know you were on your way home, something he insisted you do so he would know you were safe.

The snow on the ground had turned to pure ice over the last few days and was incredibly slick as you walked down the steps from the museum's front doors, turning to lock them and begin your trek home. The wind was whipping and you pulled your coat tighter around yourself when you saw fresh snowflakes starting to fall from the sky above.

You knew you needed to get home because this was going to be a bad storm. In your attempt to hurry and dodge disgusting puddles that you didn’t even want to think about what could be in them, you miscalculated a step and you could feel your legs fly out from under you. Your body turned at the last minute, having the impact fall completely on your right shoulder. Your head knocked against the concrete as you laid there, feeling the searing pain that went down your whole arm and head.

When you sat up you realized that you couldn’t move your arm and began to panic, trying to figure out how to get up without the stabilization both hands would offer on the ice beneath you. Fishing your phone from your pocket you dialed his number, praying he would answer while on patrol.

It rang four times before you heard the chipper voice answer on the other end. “Hi babe, you called just as I was getting back to my bag. I honestly don’t feel like patrolling in the snow tonight so I’m calling it an early night. Did you get home yet, you didn’t text me?” You bit your lip trying to hold in the whimper that was threatening to escape at any moment as another pain shot through your arm.

“Peter, I slipped and fell on ice and I can’t move my right arm at all and I hit my head on the concrete. I seriously cannot get up, I’m on an entire patch of ice and will slip if I even try. I really need your help and I’m so dizzy,” before you could finish your sentence you heard wind going through the speaker on the other side of the phone.

“Do not try and move, baby. I’m on my way and I’ll be there in just a second, okay? How far from the museum did you get?” As you told him where you sat, you realized that it was far later than you normally walked home and it was starting to snow harder. It didn’t look good that you were sitting there in the middle of the sidewalk completely alone, tears falling down your face from pain.

Peter was breathing hard trying to get to where you were, knowing that a young girl sitting on the sidewalk in New York late at night who couldn’t move on their own was not a safe situation in any way. He went further out from his patrol zone than he normally did and was pissed that he didn’t keep himself closer to your normal walking route from work. He always stayed nearby, just in case, but you hadn’t needed him yet over the six months you had been working there. Figures that on the one night he strayed from the area you would need him.

He kept you talking on the phone, heart clenching as he was hearing you cry on the other end from how much pain you were in even though you were trying to not let him hear. When he turned down the street he saw you sitting there and realized how soaking wet you were from the ground and falling snow, your hair a matted mess from behind. He landed in front of you with a soft thump and immediately pulled his mask and gloves off.

His warm hands found home on your cheeks, eyes frantic with worry. “It’s okay, I’m here, I’m here. Your right arm?” He went to grab your hand and a small scream left your mouth and he released it immediately. A small smile came across his face trying to calm you down.

The pad of his thumb swept across your forehead, a bit of blood dripping from his fingertip at the motion. “Okay baby, your arm might be broken and you have a bad cut on your forehead. I need to get you to the hospital. I’m gonna pick you up, don’t try and hold on to me okay, I got you,” you nodded as you felt his arm go behind your back, the other behind your knees.

The emergency room took longer than you would’ve liked. Peter changed out of his Spider-Man getup before taking you inside, having fully changed in less than a minute. Your teeth had been chattering the entire time, shaking from how cold you were and he was incredibly worried, trying to not to translate that to you. Luckily, you didn’t have a concussion, and your arm wasn’t broken. Your shoulder had been dislocated, but Peter hadn’t been able to see with your coat on.

When you two got home all you wanted to do was get changed, take a shower, and go to bed. Peter was being extra careful with you, almost terrified to touch you. Your arm was in a sling and your face was bruised, the cut on your forehead didn’t need stitches, but was bigger than a scrape.

Peter helped you out of your coat and sat you on the couch. “Sit here, let me get you water you need to take your pills, and then I’ll help you into bed,” your eyes never left him as he hurried around the space, grabbing everything he needed. He had been nervous all night, hardly meeting your eyes after getting you to the hospital.

“Peter,” you whispered as he kneeled in front of you, his eyes met yours and his gaze met yours. You reached a hand out and lightly set it on his jaw. “Are you okay?” He dropped his head and let out a single dry laugh. “You’re sitting here with a bruised forehead and a dislocated shoulder and you’re asking me if I’m okay,” his eyebrows furrowed, tilting his head to look at you. You didn’t know what to say so you thought of the first thing that came to your mind.

“Can you help me take a bath? Please? I feel so disgusting. I sat in street gunk for like fifteen minutes,” he nodded his head, grabbing your hand and helping you up. He went into the bathroom, starting to run the bath and you followed him into the small space.

He turned to face you and you felt your hands getting clammy, suddenly nervous at the notion you had proposed, but you needed to bathe. You were a disgusting mess. His hands looked at your shirt and his eyes met yours.

“Don’t even try to move your arm, okay? I’ll get you all sorted, sweetheart” his voice was low as he moved to take your arm out of the brace. His eyes drifted to your shirt, working through all the ways he would be able to get it off of you without moving your arm.

“Just rip it, Pete,” you let out a low laugh and he did the same. His hands went to the neck line and without any struggle ripped it down the middle. It fell off your shoulders and into a pool on the floor. His hands slipped behind your back, fingers lightly grazing over your spine, sending a shiver down your back as he undid the clasps on your bra, his fingers fumbling slightly.

You noticed his hands had a tremble to them as he moved the straps down your arms. Your breasts became exposed to the cool bathroom air, your nipples instantly getting hard. His breath hitched in his throat as he eyed you for the first time. He squatted in front of you, undoing the button on your pants, before gently sliding them down your legs, taking your hand and helping you step out of them.

His eyebrows furrowed, seeing the large bruise forming on your hip, his fingertips grazing over the area. You were visibly shaking, but Peter thought you were just cold, making him feel silly for being so nervous about this. Your panties went next and you were hyper aware of every movement that was happening between you two.

Peter stood up and his eyes met yours, an attempt at a comforting smile as you stood completely nude in front of the man that had been your best friend for most of your life. You were crossing a threshold that you wouldn’t be able to return to and you weren’t sure you wanted to. Peter was flush, his neck and face growing redder as the seconds ticked by.

You played with the hem of the worn hoodie he was wearing. Peter let a small smirk form on his plush lips and took his hoodie off. “Can I get in with you?” You played the actions in your head, all possible outcomes that could end as poorly as you imagined, but you didn’t care.

Nodding your head, he quickly finished undressing, and you saw the beautiful man in front of you. You had thought about this moment so many times, but now that it was happening you didn’t really know what to do. His fingers lightly closed around yours, leading you to the tub. The steam bounced off the water. Peter climbed in first and when you went to step in, he stopped you, lifting you with ease into the tub.

He helped you sit, allowing your freezing back to lean against his warm and firm chest. You let a small moan fall from your lips as the warm water enclosed around you, feeling like absolute heaven. Peter chuckled behind you and whispered out, almost afraid to jostle the moment. “Please, don’t make that noise again,” you could feel how hard he was behind you, pressing into your lower back.

He grasped the cup on the edge of the tub, when he grabbed it you had no idea, pulling the hot water into it and pouring it over your scalp. Letting your hair get drenched, his hands grabbed your shampoo bottle, squeezing a good amount into his palms. You watched as his hands lathered the soap, attaching his fingertips to your scalp and starting to massage it into your hair.

Your eyes slipped closed, letting your weight fully rest against him. “There you go,” he murmured, lips kissing your temple as you let his hands work into your hair. You don’t know how long he washed your hair, but when he finished you felt his large hand cover your forehead, blocking your eyes from the falling water that went through your locks, removing the soap.

His hands found the bar of soap, dipping it into the water, and your eyes opened. You started breathing harder as you realized he was going to wash you. He whispered into your ear as his hand rested on your left shoulder, “Are you sure this is, okay?” You nodded slowly, feeling him trail down your arms.

Goosebumps erupted over your skin, his other hand going to rest on your stomach. His lips found home on your shoulder, kissing the bruise that had shown in the hospital. You two sat in silence before he spoke up. “You know how scared I was when you called me?” Your eyes danced over the side of his face, your head resting against his shoulder as he talked.

You shook your head as he kept going. “I was terrified. The thought of you sitting there alone, in the dark, and hurt,” he shook his head, eyes closing as he thought about it. You kissed right under his jaw. “I know, I’m sorry. You know I fall a lot, it’s kinda my thing,” you giggled, trying to lighten the mood as he rested his forehead on yours.

“Which is why my patrol on nights you work are always in that area. You hadn’t needed me in the entire six months you’ve been working there,” he shook his head and you knew what he was saying. “I’ll always need you, Petey,” his eyes opened at the nickname.

He didn’t hesitate, lips landing on yours. Your bottom lip finds solace in between his. The kiss grew needy, messy, and sloppy. Your teeth clashed  against each other, tongues fighting for dominance. He broke apart from you, breath fanning across your nose. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop once we start this,” you nodded your head in response.

“I know,” your hand pushed his head back down to yours and you two connected once again. Your fingers tangled in his damp hair, tugging lightly, a groan that you could feel against your back erupted from his throat. The line didn’t exist anymore between you two. It had been crossed and you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. He was your Peter, always had been, and you needed him in every way he would offer himself to you.

His hand danced across your ribs, moving upwards as they groped your breasts. Your nipples were hard and perked as they rubbed against his palms. His hands were still covered from the soap as he pinched your left nipple, a gasp leaving your mouth, quickly swallowed by Peter.

He stopped suddenly, gulping down air. “You’re injured and I don’t think it would be smart to do this in the tub. C’mon,” he stood, pulling you with him and grabbing the towel from the bar, wrapping it around you as water puddled on the floor.

“Go to your room, I’ll be in there in a second,” he quickly kissed you before you turned around to walk to your room. You didn’t realize how freezing the apartment was until your feet moved across the hardwood floor, but you heard the heater kick on, knowing that’s what he went to do. Even in the heat of moments like this all he could think of was what you needed and how he could make sure it would be taken care of. When you got to your room, Peter was on your trail, only seconds behind you.

His hands moved you towards your bed, lips attacking your neck. “Get under the covers, you’re like ice,” you followed his orders, trying to move gently so as to not move your shoulder. The heavy comforter enclosed around you, Pete laying on top of you underneath it. The body heat radiated off him and you pulled him closer wanting more, anything more.

You chased his lips, a laugh leaving him. “God, you’re so needy, baby,” you scowled at him as he laughed harder. His lips landed on the pulled skin between your brows, smoothing it out. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you, I promise,” you internally thought about the odds of how this promise would play out. When you felt his long, slender, middle finger move through your folds you gasped. Your odds were good.

He brought his finger to his lips, letting it hit his tongue. His eyes fluttered shut, a groan leaving his lips. “You taste so damn good,” a moan was all you could offer in response as his finger went back to the place you needed him most. Your eyes squeezed shut as his thumb briefly moved over your clit. “Oh god, Peter,” his forehead rested against yours as he pushed down, starting to move his finger in circles, your breath mingling together.

“Say that again,” your teeth sucked your lip into your mouth, biting down hard as you whimpered, his middle and ring fingers pumping into you as he continued working your clit. His fingers curled inside you, hitting the spongy spot deep in your pussy and your mouth opened, a loud moan tumbling out.

“Peter shit,” he worked his fingers faster, wanting you to fall over the edge that was getting closer and closer. “Are you gonna cum for me, sweet girl? C’mon I can feel how close you are. Cum for me, baby,” as his words fell over you, you clenched around him, a loud groan came from him as he coaxed you through your orgasm.

He removed his fingers and when you saw your own slick dripping down his fist, onto his forearm, veins popping in his arm, you moaned his name as he licked his hand clean. “You’re a fucking mess, sweetie,” you could feel how flush you were, trying to catch your breath as you came down from the high.

You moved your hand down his torso and felt his cock pressed hard against his stomach. He shook his head and kissed you deeply. “Not tonight, sweetheart. I wouldn’t be able to control myself and you need to sleep. Soon, okay?” He could sense how irritated you were, laughing as he fell down next to you, gently pulling you into him.

“You really are needy, aren’t you?” You flicked his forehead, letting him kiss you as you settled down, feeling the wave of exhaustion fall over you. “Thank you, Petey,” was all you mumbled out as sleep took over you, the pills you took earlier clearly kicking in.

He hummed in response, arm wrapped around you, lips on your temple. “I love you,” was the last thing you heard before falling into the best sleep of your life.

The next couple of months were the best of your life. Peter kept to his word and as soon as your shoulder was better and you had gained mobility again, you two slept together. Afterwards you two found yourself trying to get at each other whenever you could. Peter would come back from patrol and you were immediately on him and he would pound into you, taking his stress from the night out on you. When you were trying to make dinner, Peter was right behind you needing you as soon as he could. Your bare ass on the countertop as he ate you out, your moans bouncing off the apartment walls.

Peter had even taken you on a couple of “real dates” as he called them. He had taken you to dinner after work one night, a 24 hour diner being the only thing open, but it had been the best burger you had ever had in your life. On an open Saturday morning you two had gone to the farmers market, getting ingredients for you two to cook dinner together that quickly ended with food being forgotten as you two tangled up on the couch, you using Peter for over an hour. Peter asked you to help cut his hair one afternoon and as you straddled him, ensuring the sides were even, you somehow ended up riding him, having your neck littered with purple marks.

Your feelings were blossoming by the day and you knew you were completely and totally in love with your best friend. Peter was harder to read and the thought of sharing your feelings with him only spurred migraines. He hadn’t mentioned any other girls, honestly he never really had apart from some girls he was friends with at school, but you didn’t want to rock the boat on what you had going on with him.

As you sat up waiting for him one night, knowing you had been dying to see each other for the last few days, you heard the familiar thump on your bedroom's fire escape. When your window didn’t open, you stood going out to see Peter slumped on the stoop. You immediately grabbed his arms, dragging him into the room as he groaned.

You pulled his mask off and saw the bruises as prominent as ever on his face, blood pooling from his nose. “Fuck, Petey where’s it hurt the most? What do I need to do first?” you started bombarding him with questions, hands going to peel the suit off. You didn’t even realize you were shaking, eyes blurring with tears as you were so focused on just getting him fixed. You hadn’t seen Peter like this in a long time and it never failed to rattle you.

Running to the bathroom to grab the tub of supplies you kept, your thoughts ran rampant in your head. Situations like this forced you to realize that although he was a superhero and that he could heal quicker than normal, he was still human. He was still mortal and putting himself in these dangerous positions was normal and it could kill him. Deep down you knew it would be what would kill him and it felt like your heart was being ripped apart at the thought.

You dropped to the floor with him, his breathing shallow and struggling as you saw the incredibly large gash across his stomach. Your hands were trembling as you grabbed the towel to wipe the blood and know where you needed to start. His hands grabbed yours and pulled them towards his mouth, lips kissing your knuckles. “Breath. I’m here, I’m alright. Take a breath,” you closed your eyes, forcing yourself to calm yourself down.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at his face, into his eyes as you began to work. Your stitches had improved over the years, the many videos you had watched only made you better, plus years of practice. When you finally finished, you cleaned up the supplies and felt Peter’s hand slip under your chin, tilting your head up to look into his eyes.

Your eyes stung and began to water as you saw how beat to shit he was. “I’m so sorry,” he mumbled, bringing you to him and placing a chaste kiss on your lips. “You scare me sometimes, Peter. When you come home like this,” you motioned to the state he was in as you continued talking. “I get scared I won’t be able to fix you and what do I do then?”

Your head tilted as you looked at him, waiting for his response. The tears that had begun falling, Peter wiped with the pad of his thumb. He nodded his head, hair falling into his eyes. “I know, baby, I know,” you brushed the hair back out of his face. Peter’s hand fell to your hips and pulled you onto his lap, you shook your head and tried to fight him. “I need you, please,” his desperate plea had you melting into his touch, allowing him to pull you onto him.

His hand lifted your night slip, pulling your panties to the side and ran a finger through the wetness of your pussy. You bit on the soft spot between his collarbone and shoulder, savoring the sound of him groaning, immediately thrusting his hips up to meet yours.

He wasted no time, freeing his cock from his suit pants, and you sank onto him. Slowly accepting him inch by inch. You felt complete like this, like you were meant to be with him like this. You started to move, Peter’s arms crushing you to his chest as you bounced on him. His lips found yours, allowing the cries that fell from your mouth to flow into his, mingling with what he was grunting out.

His encouraging words fill the space around you, encompassing you, making you feel warm and loved. One hand was on the back of your neck, the other around your waist, keeping you as close to him as possible, trying to savor the moment. You mumbled out to him that you were close, Pete telling you he was right behind you and you knew he was. His movements were like second nature to you, as his back muscles grew tighter and the vein in the side of his neck popped out, you knew he was only seconds from his own release.

“Cum in me, Petey. I want to feel you cum in me,” those words tipped him over the edge, his hips snapping up into yours as he finished, cum painting your insides as you finally hit your release, letting him push your face into his neck. That scent of cinnamon and Peter hit your senses, making your eyes water at the hominess that it offered.

You didn’t move as he softened inside you, not wanting to leave his grasp and he was making no effort to move you either. When you made the first move to get up, you pulled him with you, bringing him to your bed. No words were said as you both laid in your sheets, Pete pulling you to his chest as you laid on your side. You felt his lips on the back of your neck and you let sleep take you, reveling in the warmth he always offered to you.

When you woke up the next morning, sun hitting your eyes, you stretched out and let your joints pop into place. The spot next to you was cold as your hand skimmed over the empty sheets. You heard movement in the kitchen and you got up, following the sounds. “How’re you feeling, Spidey?” You smiled as you spoke, walking up to where he stood leaning on the counter, back to you.

He slowly turned to you, arms crossing over his chest, his eyes rimmed red. “Baby, what’s wrong?” You started towards him and he held his hand out to you, stopping you from coming closer. Your stomach dropped, the feeling of dread creeping into your every thought. “We can’t do this anymore. I can’t hurt you anymore,” Your arms wrapped around yourself as you thought of what to say.

“What’re you talking about, Peter?” He shook his head, not wanting to meet your gaze as your eyes stared at him. “Last night you were terrified. I’ve never seen you look like that before and I caused that. I won’t do it again, I promise,” you scoffed, pressing your heels into your eyes as his words washed over you.

“I’m going to stay with May for a few days so this can settle,” Your eyes snapped to him and you stormed up to him, pushing him with your palms. “So you’re just gonna leave too? Just like that? Like I’m nothing to you? Okay, fine. Leave, go!” You were screaming at the end, huffing for air, tears threatening to spill.

He wouldn’t even look at your face as he moved to his room grabbing an already packed bag and leaving your shared space. You grabbed a cup off the counter and threw it at the door as he left, watching it smash into pieces as you screamed after him telling him how much you hated him as you sank to the floor. You couldn’t hold in the tears as a sob ripped through your throat, it felt like your heart was being ripped from your chest.

You knew this would happen. You had told yourself over and over this would be how it ended, but you were naive and thought that he wouldn’t be like everyone else in your life. You thought he loved you, but you knew he didn’t. He was being selfish, like everyone else in your life.

You had no idea how long it had been since he had left, but you hadn’t left the couch. You slept there, cried there, and stared at the ceiling. You were fairly certain you had lost your job, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Your phone went off, you had been keeping it near, just in case he called. He hadn’t yet.

Your grandma's picture popped up and you hesitated to answer. You knew May had told her what was going on and you didn’t want to talk about it. She was only going to worry more if you didn’t so you finally picked up. “Hi, grandma,” your voice was raw, not having been used in days other than to cry.

“Oh darling, you sound horrible. Pack a bag, you’re coming to stay with me for a few days,” you tried to tell her no, that you weren’t up for it, but she forced you, saying she needed you. So you found yourself sitting on the couch of the beach house that felt like paradise. Where you and Peter took your first and only vacation. Where you started to realize just how in love with him you were.

Your grandma took care of you. Brushed your hair, forced you to eat, forced you to get some sun. On your last day there, you sat on the porch swing with your head in her lap when she sighed. “You know, your grandfather and I had some amazing memories here,” you looked up at her as she broke the silence. “One summer he and I snuck up here a week before his family was due. We spent the whole time just enjoying each other. It was the first time he and I had been truly alone, just us. God, it was amazing. I realized I was gonna marry him on that trip,” your eyes watered as she shared exactly what you had felt with Peter.

The feelings she described were tearing you apart. A small sob came from you and she peered down, running her hand over your hair. “Oh my darling, it’ll be okay. He’s just in as bad of shape as you. May says he’s gone for days at a time and she doesn’t hear from him at all and when he’s back he’s locked in his room,” your heart ached at the thought of him hurting like you were.

But he did this. It was what he wanted, not you. He didn’t want you. It was an accident. You found yourself as an accident again and it was destroying you. She sat you up and took your hands in hers. “I have to tell you something and I need you to listen to me before you start, okay?”

You nodded your head waiting for her to continue, worry spreading through you. “I’m dying, darling. I have cancer and I’m dying,” your eyes went wide, jumping from your seat as you tried to comprehend what she was saying. All you could manage to say was a chant of no’s, refusing to believe that the only person who had been a constant in your life was going to be leaving you. Just life everyone.

She pulled you back down, trying to get you to calm down as your tears finally stopped. You felt like you had nothing left in you. A shell of yourself as she answered all your questions. She had known since before your graduation, nearing a year from that date. May had known the entire time and had promised not to say anything to you. She didn’t know how long she had and even if she did she wouldn’t tell you.

It turns out it wasn’t long at all. You had decided to stay for a bit longer, just to have some more time with her and she died the next week. You felt numb. You had no idea what to do. May came up to help you take care of the important things and mourn with you, but you ended up comforting her more than anything. You couldn’t imagine what she was feeling. Your grandma was the last person she had ties to and now that she was gone it was like a large part of her life was gone.

When you had to get on the train back home you stared at the seat across from yours, vacant where your boy should be. You sat in silence, not even letting your brain think. You had no thoughts, you hardly moved, and you had no recollection of getting back to your apartment. It was quiet. No movement at all. He wasn’t back and you were glad. Deep down you knew you couldn’t face him or anything right now. You felt a bit of hatred searing you that was directed towards him that you knew wasn’t fair. He had no obligations to you, to be there for you.

You went to the bathroom, went through your nightly routine and climbed into your sheets. You never fell asleep, not able to close your eyes and let it sweep over you. You hadn’t slept a full night since she had passed. You heard a loud thump on your fire escape and your window slid open. Your back faced the window, not wanting to see who made the noise.

Your name came from his lips, the familiar sound filled your ears. Your eyes squeezed shut and you didn’t respond, laying as still as possible, hoping that if you didn’t move he would leave. He didn’t. He said your name again, slightly louder this time, his warm hand landing on your arm.

“Leave me alone, Peter. I can’t do this right now,” you mumbled out and he didn’t respond. He turned you towards him and when you saw him, he was beaten worse than any other time you’d seen. Your eyes widened in worry, taking in his features and seeing bruises on him in places you’d never seen before. He wasn’t in his suit, but in shorts and a t-shirt.

You sat up and moved towards the edge of your bed and took in the sight before you. “When was the last time you slept? You look horrible,” was all he said as his eyes scanned over your face. You scoffed, standing up, almost flush with him.

“You wanna talk about looking horrible? Peter, I can hardly tell it’s you. What the fuck have you been doing?” He rolled his eyes, one completely bloodshot, overpowering the brown that you hadn’t seen in at least a month. The longest you had been without him since you were six.

He stood firm as all of your anger over the events of the past month bubbled up. “Where the fuck have you been, Peter? I don’t know if you know this, but my life has practically crumbled around me. You walked out on me! You left me! My grandmother died, Peter! I have been completely alone. You left me alone to deal with this. I needed you. I needed you so bad and you were just like everyone else in my life and you left me. I fucking hate you!” Hot, angry tears rolled down your face as he stood there listening to you.

His hands grabbed your arms, pulling you into his chest. You didn’t fight him, sobbing into his t-shirt as his arms wrapped around you. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you. I’m so sorry,” was all he spoke into your hair as he felt your body shaking. “I didn’t know she passed until ten minutes ago,” he whispered out. You pulled back and looked up at him, his own tears threatening to spill.

Your hands were balled into fists in his shirt, scared that if you let him go he would vanish, like this was just your overtired mind playing tricks on you. Your head tilted back to look at him and his hands gently made their way to your jaw and you leaned into his touch, eyes falling shut as his thumbs rubbed over your cheek bones.

“I’m so sorry. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. If you’ll have me, I won’t leave you again, okay? I love you and I need you, sweetheart,” his lips ghosted over yours as he spoke. He moved away from your mouth, instead placing delicate kisses on your eyelids, cheeks, nose, forehead, everywhere he could.

The battle within yourself reared its head as you thought about what you needed to do. You couldn’t deny that you loved him because you had known that for a long time. In some part of you, you knew you needed him and from the looks of him, he needed you too. You melted into his touch instantly becoming putty in his hands, letting him mold you into whatever he wanted. You knew Peter wouldn’t let you fall again. You knew he couldn’t keep fifty percent of his promises and this proved that yet again.

You peered up at him, wrapping your hands around his wrists, his hands hadn’t left your face. You thought he was pressing so deep into your skin they would leave marks, like he was dealing with the same thoughts that if he let you go, you wouldn’t come back. You kissed the inside of his wrist.

“You can’t leave me again, Parker. I’ll drop your ass so fast you won’t even know it happened,” his laugh boomed in the space, ripping a cut on his lip open, blood falling down his chin. You moved away from him, going to grab a tissue from your nightstand. Moving as gently as you could, you placed it on the cut, wiping up the blood.

“I need you to tell me what happened to you, Peter. Why do you look like this?” You whispered to him, trying to take in all of the marks that littered his entire body. “I went a little crazy for a bit,” was what he responded with, thumbs moving in circles on your neck. “I was so angry at myself I went and took it out on some criminals. Some fought back more than others,” you winced at the thought as he chuckled, trying to make light of the situation.

You moved him to sit on your bed and went to the bathroom, grabbing the tub of supplies that you hadn’t touched since he left. You moved it into the room, his eyes squinting with a smile as he saw you grab the Neosporin. “You’re gonna need a lot more of that, sweetheart,” you couldn’t fight back the smile as his hands found home on your waist, kneading at the exposed skin where your shirt had ridden up.

Peter pulled you closer to him and your hand threaded itself into his hair, the other still holding the tub of medicine. His lips kissed each of your collarbones, your eyes slipped shut at the contact, your breath stuttering. His tongue darted out, licking up your neck. You dropped the tube, letting your other hand brace itself on his shoulder.

Your head rolled to the side, letting him have better access. He laid back on the bed, pulling you with him. You leaned down, hands landing on his firm chest as his hands dragged you down to meet him. Both of your legs were spread over him, your core rubbing against the cloth of his shorts, showing how hard he was beneath you.

Your core pressed down onto his cock and he moaned. It made your heart soar, hearing him make those noises again. You were flipped onto your back so quickly, you hardly even felt the movement. His hands moved to the hem of your shirt pulling it off and placing pecks all over your exposed chest.

He took a nipple into his mouth and you arched into him. Your head fell back onto the pillow, feeling his teeth nip at the bud in his mouth, his fingers pinching your other before he switched. Whimpers fell from you as his hands moved further down, slipping into your sleep shorts and feeling the slick pooling in your pussy that was starting to drip down your thigh to your ass.

He removed his mouth from your breast and kissed down your sternum and stomach, pulling your shorts down as he went. He groaned at the sight before him, you spread open, waiting for him. His teeth nipped on the inside of either thigh before kissing his way to you. He placed a light peck to your clit that had you clenching around nothing.

His tongue licked a stripe up your pussy, his moan mixing with yours. “God, you have no idea how much I missed this sweet pussy, baby,” you gasped as he stuck two fingers into you, sucking your clit into his mouth. You writhed beneath him as he curled his fingers in you, hitting the sweet spot only he knew how to get to.

It took you no time at all to feel the budding pressure in you to know that you were close. “Pete, oh my god,” was all you could muster up to say, your chest heaving. “I know, sweetheart, c’mon, cum for me,” you felt it wash over you in waves of pleasure. Your breath caught in your throat as whimpers flowed from you, his fingers slowing down as he continued to lick up your mess.

He moved back up to you, your hands clawing at him to meet you. You tasted yourself on him and you moaned at the taste, missing him more than anything. Peter wasted no time, stripping as quickly as possible and his cock came free. Your hand closed around the base, offering a few pumps, Peter thrusting into your hand at the feeling.

“Fuck, don’t do that. I won’t last,” he chuckled as you guided him to your entrance. His head slipped in the wetness, pushing against your clit as you both hissed. He leaned down, lips on yours as he sank into you. Your jaw fell open as you felt him fill you up.

You wasted no time, wanting to feel him. “You gotta move, babe, please,” he didn’t hesitate. He pulled back, almost all the way out before pounding back in. You felt like the wind had been knocked out of you. As he started thrusting, the only sounds in the room were your moans, Peter’s grunts as he sucked marks into every piece of skin he could, and your skin hitting each other as he fucked you like you were going to leave. Peter’s words were a mix of how good you felt, how tight you were, and how you were clenching around him so tight.

His hand moved to your knee, pulling a leg up towards your chest. You let your legs come up, placing them on his shoulders, letting him hit an entirely new spot deeper in you. His hips stuttered at the new sensation, the only words you could form was his name, falling from your lips like a prayer.

You both were covered in sweat, your neck and chest were covered in purple bruises, Peter’s hair was a mess as his head tucked into the crook of your neck. “Fuck, baby I’m gonna cum,” your nails scratched down his back. “Cum for me, Peter. Cum in me,” you barely finished before he slammed into you one last time as he emptied out into you.

His fingers found your clit, rubbing tight and quick circles as he lightly kept thrusting as you tumbled over the edge, another orgasm taking you in its hold.

As you finished, he let your legs fall back down. You both fought to catch your breath as he pulled out of you, his cum dripping. His thumb pushed it back into you, not letting it seep out of you anymore, wanting to keep it in like that was where it was meant to be. His lips met yours, a deep kiss that showed how much you missed each other.

You two got up together, going to the bathroom and taking a shower with one another. He let you lean back against him, reveling in the comfort of his presence. Neither of you said a word as you washed up and went back to bed. He laid next to you, your legs tangling together, facing each other.

His hands danced across your face, thumb brushing across your cheeks. “Will you marry me?” Your eyes searched his face and you smiled, a small laugh falling from you. “Go to sleep, you’re obviously delirious,” your hand went over his eyes, feeling his eyelashes tickle your palm as his eyelids fluttered.

He moved closer to you, lips nearly touching, taking your hand in his. His smile spread as he looked at your hand. “I’m serious. I want to marry you. Will you marry me?” You bit your lip, eyes narrowing at him. “Petey, we’re nineteen,” you said, your eyes falling to see his fingers wrapping together with yours.

“I know. I know I don’t have anything to offer you, but I love you. I love you so much it hurts. When I was away from you I would’ve rather died. I can’t be without you. We’ll keep it secret, just something you and I know. We have a lot of secrets, what’s one more? I want you to marry me,” your eyes were getting blurry as you realized he was completely serious.

You nodded your head and placed your hand on his cheek. “Okay. I’ll marry you, Peter,” his eyes snapped up to yours, wide in surprise. “You’ll-you’ll marry me? Really?” you giggled and nodded through your tears. He hovered above you, kissing every inch of your face as you laughed.

The following weekend you and Peter were at the courthouse, a random witness from the street stood with you two as you stood in front of the justice of peace, pronouncing you husband and wife. Your short white poofy dress and short veil matched the occasion with Peter’s green dress pants, black button up and tie.

Your simple gold bands matched one another, yours just slightly thinner than his. His hands grabbed your jaw, pulling you into him, your hands landing on his waist as you kissed for the first time as husband and wife. You both laughed, you started jumping excitedly. “Holy shit, we just got married,” he nodded and kissed you again.

It felt right. It always did with Peter. The shy little boy you had met thirteen years ago changed your entire life. He had become your person and he always would be, no matter what. You kept looking at your hands, seeing the bands sparkle in the sun. Peter had his camera with him and he snapped so many pictures, your hands started coming up to cover the lens.

“C’mon, I need more pictures of my beautiful wife,” you giggled, asking a student leaving the library if they would snap a couple pictures of you two. Peter dipped you in one, bending down to kiss you as your leg kicked out straight, a small yelp leaving your throat. You thanked the young girl as he offered her congratulations.

Your wedding dinner ended up being your local sushi restaurant in your neighborhood that Peter craved every single week. The owner came over to congratulate you both, your waiter taking multiple photos for you two as you sat down. You both ate the caterpillar roll that never failed to make you moan as you took a bite. Peter nipped underneath your ear in the booth as you took a sip of sake. “Promise me you’ll make that noise for me tonight,” his eyebrows shot up as you rolled your eyes, pushing him away. “I’m sorry, babe, but this is the only thing that can get that noise out of me,” you put another bite in your mouth as his hands attacked your sides, making you giggle as he tickled you. “Challenge accepted.”

The following week you two sat on your couch, looking at the photos he had taken. Your eyes fell on the one the young lady had taken of you two. You bit your lip, thoughts running about the day. Your grandma would’ve been so happy for you two. But she wasn’t here for it anymore. She wouldn’t be. Guilt built up in you at the thought. Your weekly dinners with May had been tough, seeing the empty chairs that should’ve been filled with the people you loved and deserved to be there.

Peter pulled you into his side, kissing your forehead as you sniffled. “Elise would’ve loved it. She would’ve told you how beautiful you were a million times,” he chuckled looking at the photos he had taken of you. You nodded your head, wiping at your eyes and choking out a small yeah in response.

As you two laid in bed that night, sleep wasn’t coming to you. Your thoughts raced about your grandma and May. You knew May was doing well, having joined a book club and she started hanging out with some nurse friends. You thought about your mom and how she had missed another huge life event and you looked over at the sleeping man next to you.

He had a small cut on his eyebrow from his patrol the night before and your finger danced over it, waking him easily. He hummed, hand wrapping around your wrist and pulling you towards him. “You okay, sweetheart?” You nodded, hand resting on his bare chest. “Petey?” He peeked an eye open at you. “When we graduated, what did you say to my mom?” He sighed and rubbed his face with his free hand, the other laced with yours.

“Um, let’s see. I told her that she couldn’t pick and choose when she wanted to be a parent. That she needed to leave you alone and not contact you again because she had made her choice and she needed to live with it. I gave her $100 to tide her over because she was asking for a really specific amount, it was like $73 or something like that and she left. That was it, why?” You kissed under his jaw and snuggled into him.

His warm arms wrapped around you, a soft breath releasing from his lungs as he nuzzled his head into your hair, breathing in the comforting scent. “I never thanked you for that,” he chuckled and rubbed your arms. “It’s my job, baby,” you kissed his adams apple, feeling it bob beneath your lips. You didn’t say anything else as your eyes slipped closed, drifting off to sleep with the man that would do anything to protect you and keep you happy.

***

Your friends and family cheered around you as you kissed Peter, feeling him dip you in front of everyone. You giggled against his lips, clutching onto his shirt at the movement, like he would ever let you fall. May had tears streaming down her face as he stood you up, making eye contact with her as everyone clapped.

Your five year anniversary with Peter had come so fast, it was hard to wrap your head around. Life had been so hectic you could hardly keep track. Peter’s time as Spider-Man had increased tremendously over the years, but you didn’t mind. New York had Spider-Man, but you had Peter Parker. Your Peter. You didn’t have to share him with anyone and you loved that.

You had both graduated from university and you were quickly hired at a museum as an assistant curator and you loved your work. It made your heart happy and you had finally found your niche. Peter had found work with Oscorpe, his old good friend Harry getting him a great job in the lab that allowed him some freedom to dip out as needed with no explanations required.

You and Peter decided to tell May you were married a little over a year into the marriage, feeling so guilty for hiding it from her. She was furious, but so happy. She had blown up the picture of you two that the lovely student had taken and it hung in the living room proudly. On the anniversary of your grandma's death May had given you a small box of her belongings that she specified needed to go to you.

Peter was given her wedding ring to your grandfather for you to use. She said she knew you two would end up together and she had saved the ring for it. You wore it proudly with your gold band to match. She had also given you two a joint gift that was to be enjoyed together. The small beach shack that held a special place in your heart.

You two vacationed there every summer for at least two weeks and it was where on your five year anniversary you did a small dinner reception with your close friends and family on the beach, as your friends guilted you about doing an elopement without any celebrations.

You and Peter were meant to be, it had been known since that day you talked to him on the porch. He had said he knew he was in love with you that day and he just had to muster up the courage to do something about it and it only took a little over a decade. You had never connected with someone quicker than Peter. He was your other half, your confidant, and your partner in crime. When one of you appeared everyone knew the other was only half a second behind. It was how you two functioned and it was how you two would function for the rest of time.

You knew Peter Parker was destined for greatness, you just didn’t know how. But now as your eyes swept over your best friend, you knew exactly how. He was destined to be your person and you would love him for the rest of your life.

[mgparker]

sidelines

[tasm!peter parker x reader]

request | word count: 4k

based on this request: so the reader has a boyfriend but he’s been kinda of a shitty one to her? like he’s an extreme workaholic who often skips their anniversaries and dates, and just takes her for granted all the time. whereas peter is her best friend who has been pining and harboring feelings for her but kept it all to himself (he knows how her bf has been treating her as well) until one day she breaks down in front of him and he comforts her. it’s very angsty and maybe ends with fluff?

warnings: f!reader, not as angsty as i’d hoped so sorry about that, asshole boyfriend, greys references, pining!peter, request, not much fluff, unedited

Fact— Peter Benjamin Parker was in love with his best friend. Completely and utterly whipped. The kind of love that blossomed over the course of a few years; something he thought he’d grow out of but to his luck, it grew in his heart like uncontrollable weeds in a yard.

And it didn’t help that you would literally choose any other person on this planet but him.

Now, Peter couldn’t control that. Of course not. As much as he dreamed that one day you’d suddenly tell him you were absolutely in love with him and had been for years, he knew it wouldn’t matter if it didn’t come from the heart. 

And seeing as it’s been years since Peter realized you were his entire world and you’ve been in other relationships (some of which you’ve solely depended on Peter’s advice of dating them or not—to which he always faked a smile and encouraged), the dream would simply just be that. A dream. 

Nothing more. 

And yes, it hurt like hell. It felt like a knife was being plunged into his stomach every time he saw you with someone else. Like the world was crumbling beneath his feet when you smiled at the phone because you were texting him… Like there was no chance in hell that he’d ever find a way past the heartbreak whenever he saw you and your boyfriend together.

Because this relationship was a little different than the others…

It took a while for Peter to notice it, which was surprising due to his incredible senses. But when he finally did, God did it kill him. 

The fake smiles. The sudden mood changes. The excuses. 

It was like your personality was being slowly drained away and it lit a fire in his bones. A rage that threatened to burst whenever he saw your piece of shit boyfriend. Thankfully, Peter had mastered the mask of nonchalance and innocence whenever you brought Nate around but you weren’t stupid. You knew that Peter knew.

And you couldn’t tell if that filled you with relief or shame. 

For as long as you’ve known each other, you’ve never been the type to settle. You’ve always known your worth, known how to put your foot down and put it down firmly. Certain in what you wanted—no, needed (but that’s not to say you were afraid to ask for what you desired). You were fair, open to compromise, a fairly good listener, and overall a person who cared... 

So you had no idea when your relationship had started tipping the scale, losing its balance until you were stuck with the heaviest side. With all the burden and hard work that should be shared in a healthy relationship. 

And though you tried your best to figure it out, to grasp at the confidence and outspokenness you once had, it was damn near impossible.

So you just settled. You just took it one day at a time because you didn’t want to disappoint him. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself even more than you already have, and you know you shouldn’t feel this way. You know that Peter would never judge you in the way you’re scared of but you couldn’t stand pity. And that’s exactly what you’d get if you ran away now. 

So, you just settled.

“How’s the new promotion going?” 

It’s your two-year anniversary, an occasion you were highly surprised Nate had even remembered. Let alone planned something for it. But here you are—at a high-end restaurant on the waterside of the financial district.

The damn financial district. You had forced a smile when the two of you arrived at the restaurant, trying to hide the fact that you’d already made the decision that you absolutely hated the restaurant. Just because it was in the financial district.

Everything was about the financial district. About finance and his dad��s business and fucking Wall Street. 

“Hm?”

Swallowing your mouthful of pasta, you stared at the table with a sense of detachment. This isn’t anything you’re not used to. “Your promotion?” You cleared your throat. “How’s it going?”

Nate finally looked up from his phone, a spark of interest gleaming in his eye. Normally, that little spark would excite you, get you on the edge of your seat as you grasped for his attention.

But you were beyond over it today.

“The promotion!” Nate smiled in a satisfied way. “It’s good. I think my dad is finally starting to see me for who I truly am. What I’m truly meant to be.”

You smiled sweetly. “And what’s that?” You played the supportive girlfriend part perfectly.

“CEO of New York’s biggest finance company.” Same shit, different day. As if you hadn’t heard that before. Except it isn’t New York’s biggest finance company. In fact, it’s barely a speck in the thousands that are fighting their way for a spot next to the big boys on Wall Street. 

“That’s great,” you lied. “I’m happy for you.”

Fueled from the praise, Nate was suddenly a bit more animated. “So how’s it going with your—um—what’s it called? Your art stuff… the uh—”

“Photography?” You wanted to laugh. How hard was it to remember your passion? It’s not like he’d been calling you his girlfriend for the past two years or anything…

Mouth full, Nate nodded largely. “That.”

He’s not looking at his phone. You realize suddenly as you gave him a skeptical look over the table. He’s actually listening. He’s looking at me and listening! Call the press, this is monumental news—I should probably answer before he picks up the phone again—

“It’s good! You know I actually got an internship with this really big newspaper company. It’s the biggest opportunity I’ve had so far and I’m actually really really excited—”

He’s looking down at his phone again. Not only that but he’s picking up a call—right in the middle of this fancy five-star restaurant he’d claimed was the best of the city. Right in the middle of your passionate spiel. 

Your jaw hung slightly, staring across the table incredulously as the words died on your tongue. Embarrassed tears filled your eyes, your throat tightening in shame as you glanced around at the nearby tables. 

For the most part, everyone was minding their business, actively engaged in conversation with their partners. Until your eyes met the gaze of a young woman who sat at the table to your right. She was in a group, sat next to a man you assumed to be her husband (if the matching rings were any indication) and their hands were interlaced at their sides. 

They seemed to be a little older than you, probably not by much but everything about their language screamed relaxed and comfortable. Secure and healthy. 

Of course, you couldn’t know that for sure but then her husband was suddenly tugging at her hand softly, ripping her gaze away from you and back towards him. The look they shared hit you in the gut, punching you with a severe realization—it was a look you recognized. 

A look that had been given to you many times… but not from the man who sat across from you. Not from the man who was currently laughing on the other end of a seemingly interesting phone call (more interesting than your photography at least).

You observed as the husband whispered something in his wife’s ear, the two giggling quietly as they leaned in closer. It left you speechless, their small interaction holding more love and adoration than anything you’d ever felt toward Nate.

Your appetite was suddenly gone.

It’s even worse when the woman looked over again, as if to check on you. When her eyes found yours again, she gave you a look of—of pity.

One single tear fell down your cheek, your face turning quickly to hide it, but you were sure she’d seen it. 

A shaky hand came up to wipe it swiftly, watching through watery eyes as Nate took a joyous bite of his meal. 

“Oh, you’re right outside?” Nate was saying to the person on the other end of the call. Your eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. “Great. I was just finishing up here. Yeah… Okay… Sure—I’ll meet you out there, how’s that? Okay, bye.”

He put his phone down loudly, finishing the last sip of wine in his glass. Then, your boyfriend looked up as if he remembered you were sitting at the table with him… on your two-year anniversary. 

“Right!” He wiped his mouth with a cloth. “This has been swell, but really I invited you here to tell you something.”

You were perplexed. “Okay…”

“I’m breaking up with you.”

It was deadpan. A monotone statement that left you in an instant state of confusion. “What?”

“In all honesty, I shouldn’t have let it go this far. But you know how my dad is. He likes order and breaking up with you would’ve cost me my job. My goals…”

At this point, your jaw had dropped open at his audacity. 

“And I couldn’t have that,” he laughed like it was all one big joke. “Clearly!”

You tried to take a moment to process your feelings—were you sad? Were you upset? Angry?

You should be sad, right? You should be on the verge of tears because your two-year relationship was over, right? 

But all you feel is anger and a burning sense of humiliation. “Clearly, you’ve had your mind set for a while. How long did you fake it?”

“Fake what?” He had this dumb smile on his face, as if he hadn’t spent the last few months pulling you in with meaningless ‘I love you’s and little moments of affection that made you feel guilty for even considering putting yourself first. 

Your nostrils flared. “Everything.”

“Don’t know. Lost count after the first few months,” he shrugged, waving over the server as he dug through his pocket for some cash. 

Motionlessly, you sat in your spot, rethinking every single effort you’d made for your relationship to work. Rethinking every single time you’d lied to your best friend’s face and told him that you were in love with your boyfriend and that everything was alright. That he didn’t need to worry. 

“But I’ve got this banging hot chick waiting outside for me and now that this promotion has secured me a spot on the board, there’s really no reason for me to put up with you anymore.” Nate gave the server a polite smile as he signed the receipt, leaving a generous tip on the table. 

Put up with you anymore? What the hell did he put up with? Your tireless efforts to make him feel loved? All the times you’d make sure the workload wasn’t getting to him? The times you’d fake it just for him because you didn’t want to hurt his feelings?

What the actual fuck had become of you? Nate had destroyed you from the inside out, draining you of everything you had until he got bored of you. 

“Fuck you,” was all you had to say, watching as your ex stood up, screeching his chair noisily until every other table looked your way. 

He looked as if he enjoyed the insult, loved the joys that came with being an absolute asshole. “For what it’s worth,” you could sense it wasn’t going to be worth anything. “The sex was great.”

You were right. 

With that, Nathaniel spun on his heel and sauntered out of the restaurant. 

The tables around you were silent, eyes burning various holes in your figure while you felt a deep pit form in the base of your stomach. Nausea kept you rooted to the spot, afraid that if you moved, your entire meal would land right back on your plate. 

Never in your life had you felt so humiliated, reduced to a good fuck and nothing more. After countless forgotten dates and anniversaries… After countless times you’d stuck your neck out for him. 

And when you finally gathered the strength to stand up from your table, your legs were a bit shaky, overwhelmed from the mortification.

Stumbling onto the sidewalk in the chilly New York streets, your hands fumbled for your phone, dialing a number you’d known by heart since the seventh grade. 

The line rang a few times before a warm voice picked up. “Hello?”

You wanted to sound normal, but the sound of your best friend was enough to break down all your defenses. “Pete?”

On the other end, Peter sat up quickly, heart dropping at the crack in your tone. “Sunshine, what’s wrong?” He practically cooed. 

He could hear rapid footsteps on the other line, little puffs of breath leaving your mouth like you were hastily walking somewhere. “Are—are you home?”

Please, please tell me you’re home, you beg silently. Your throat ached from the sobs you were holding back.

“I am,” he replied instantly, the worry making him sit up and rush toward the window. He was already pulling off his shirt, dressed in his Spider-Man suit underneath the sweats, before you could sniffle a response.  

“Um, I think…” you were stuttering, a million thoughts running through your head. “You were right.”

“About?” You could hear him pull the window open hastily. 

You sniffled. “Nate.”

Halfway out the window, Peter froze, hanging from the side of the building. His breath caught in his lungs. “Y/N.”

“Yeah?” You answered weakly, finding a nice spot overlooking the Brooklyn bridge and collapsing on a bench. 

Your best friend took a deep breath. “Did he—” his voice cracked in anger. “What did he do? Did he touch you?”

“What?” You spluttered. “No, he—he didn’t—”

“Y/N…” his voice was shaky like yours, though it was from the sudden fury that consumed his nerves at the mere thought of the asshole even touching you at all. 

Just spit it out. “No. No, he didn’t hurt me… I, um, just got dumped.”

It was silent for longer than a minute and you glanced at your phone to make sure the call hadn’t dropped.  

You continued. “…and—and I want to say that I’m sad. That my heart hurts and all I want is for my relationship to go back to the way it was but… but I can’t say that because it isn’t true.

“I just feel humiliated and drained. And it’s—” a sob escaped you. “It’s the worst feeling ever and you can say—you can say I told you so. It’s fine—”

“—it’s not.”

The phone slipped from your grasp, landing on the bench in a noisy clatter as you jumped at the sudden presence next to yours. 

It was Peter—well not Peter, more like Spider-Man but it was your best friend nevertheless. “It’s not fine. I’m not going to sit here and gloat, because I didn’t want to be right.”

Your lip was caught between your teeth, something that secretly made his gaze linger on your mouth, and you were staring at him with those big doe eyes. Watery and full of a thousand things you wanted to say but wouldn’t. 

“I didn’t want you to be hurt,” he whispered. “All I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy, sunshine…”

With that, he crossed the few steps that separated you, joining you in the middle as you stood up. His arms wrapped around your waist protectively as your façade completely dropped, sobs wracking your frame violently. 

He wished he could show you the depth of his love for you. Show you the way you deserve the be treated. Erase the pain that that asshole had caused. 

But how could he put you in harm’s way? Expose you to the many enemies Spider-Man inevitably made? 

It’s out of the question—it always had been and it always will be. 

“I’m sorry,” you were repeating under your breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I’m crying.”

A suit-clad hand reached up to stroke your hair back, pulling you tighter into his chest. 

“How…” you sniffled. “How did you know where I was?”

Peter smiled softly. “Senior year, remember? Whenever we need a place to think—”

“—this is our spot,” you finished with a wobbly smile. “Right.”

It was an agreement you’d made years ago when the two of you had been going through a tremendous amount of stress. Between college applications and state assessments, you were both teetering the line between barely staying afloat and a full-on meltdown. 

The week of college acceptances was the worst. Peter found you on this same bench almost every afternoon, sweating from jogging the bridge and nearly in tears as you stared at the water nervously. 

And when freshman year of college rolled around and the two of you had moved in together, it was Peter’s turn to frequent the bench. Reduced to tears over his anxiety about juggling a full-time program in biophysics at an Ivy League and fulfilling his Spider-Man duties in the city.

The bench was a quiet place, marked by countless hugs and silent tears. It was your place.

“I didn’t even realize I came here,” you sighed, letting Peter drag you over to the bench. 

A realization made you stop in your tracks. “You’re in the suit.”

“Right,” Peter grinned sheepishly under the mask. Then, he pulled you close and wrapped an arm around your waist. 

“Wait—”

It was too late; he’d already taken off before you could brace yourself. Your heart sunk to your feet, a scream catching at the back of your throat as you frantically fought to wrap your arms around his neck.

It was impossible to open your eyes against the rushing wind, eyelids squeezed shut, clueless as to your destination. But you couldn’t find it in you to care, the only thing rushing through your mind was the desire to touch ground already. 

Transportation by web wasn’t a new experience for you. But it didn’t mean you appreciated it anymore now than you did the first time. The views were pretty, sure, but nearly throwing up hundreds of feet over New York wasn’t. 

The end couldn’t have come sooner. As soon as your feet touched solid surface, you snapped your eyes open. A scolding was at the tip of your tongue until you realized where he’d taken you. 

The top of a skyscraper, an important monument if you had to guess. 

Hurriedly, you looked down to survey the surface you were standing on. It was a nice slab of stainless steel, surprisingly sturdy and spacious. Next to you, a spire dwarfed you in size. 

“We’re on the Empire State.”

You looked over at Peter; his mask was gone, hair swiped to the side in a curly mess. He seemed more relaxed than you’d seen him in days, no— months.

He took your silence as a sign to continue. “I’ve been coming here for a while now.” 

“It’s beautiful,” you said, scanning the glittering buildings below. You spotted Madison Square Garden not too far ahead, laughing in amusement at the venue that seemed so big to you whenever you’d visit. Now, it was barely the size of your thumb. 

Peter followed your gaze and gave you his own chuckle. “Tiny, right?”

“This is what you see every night?” You asked in amazement. 

“Yeah. It’s the only place I can really think.”

The crack in his voice made you turn. There’s pain in his eyes, it’s the first time you really see it. The last few months had blinded you to a lot of things, your frustration and self-pity stealing you away from the one person who meant the most to you.

“Pete—”

“You know what I’d think about?” He pursed his lips. “While I was up here?” Something told you where this was going, but you were too afraid to answer.

“I’d think about you.”

Okay… He was absolutely mad at you. He’d been sparing your feelings because he could tell how miserable you were in that relationship but now, the jig was up. You were done and apparently, so was he. The words were tumbling out before you could stop them. “I’m sorry—” 

“Wha—why?” Peter chuckled humorlessly. “Why are you apologizing?”

“I dunno,” you mumbled. “I know I haven’t really been there lately.”

It was silent. You hesitantly looked at your best friend to find him already staring at you with a look you couldn’t quite place.

“I would think about you,” he repeated pointedly. “For the last two years, I’ve watched you turn yourself into someone, at times, I barely recognized. I’ve watched you shrink yourself slowly until... until...” he never finished and it left you mildly curious, though you weren’t eager to hear an outside perspective of how you’d been played like a guitar string.

“That asshole didn’t deserve you, Y/N. You’re too good, too-too pure, and he didn’t deserve more than a minute of your time...”

You stared at the skyline, your eyes stinging with unshed tears. Peter wasn’t trying to make you feel bad, you knew that, but it stung nonetheless because he was right. 

Then, he softly uttered your name. It was filled with an emotion that struck a nerve deep within you. You nearly choked.

“You’re still the same girl I’ve known since high school. The same girl that wouldn’t hesitate to put Flash Thompson in his place—” you rolled your eyes at the reminder of that dickwad. “You’re still the same girl that sees the good in everyone, and you’re still the same stubborn girl who can get villains to stand down from the sheer force of your will...”

He’s talking about Harry Osborn, and it finally draws a laugh out of you. It wasn’t funny a year ago, when the incident nearly got you killed, but it was enough to make you tearfully laugh now.

“Y/N… you’re still the sun.”

The laugh got paralyzed in your throat, choked down by a small sob of relief. The alleviating realization that the most debilitating aspect of your life was finally gone, a parasite that had been reducing you to ashes, shadowing your brightness and sucking every part of you until you were practically a shell of who you used to be.

There were words your best friend never heard, arguments and disputes no one would ever know, parts of yourself that would take more than an hour to steal back from Nate’s vicious clutch, but you were more than relieved to realize that at the other end of it, there was one thing that he could’ve never taken away from you.

Before you could say anything, Peter uttered one last thing. 

“You’re still the same girl that I’ve always loved.”

A swell of emotions attacked your heart, squeezing and squeezing until the only relief was Peter’s arms. You’re glad that he has such fast reflexes or else you’d both be tumbling off the side of the building. 

There could be multiple meanings behind that statement—and there definitely was— but Peter meant it in the way he knew you needed.

A confession wasn’t something you could handle right now, and it wasn’t something Peter could ever see himself admitting while he still worried about your safety, so he made sure you saw the fond edge in his gaze. The years of friendship and devotion that you two shared.

There weren’t words to describe how you felt about Peter Parker, you could barely make sense of it. But holding him close, feeling his hands around your waist and heartbeat against your ear, you were almost certain that the words that rested at the tip of your tongue held a different meaning than what he’d just said to you.

But you keep it in, afraid to shatter this moment and feeling the long road of healing ahead. It could wait.

This embrace was enough.

yes... this is a little bit of a mess but i’m fairly certain i say that about every single thing i write. also, shameless grey’s anatomy reference because that show has my entire heart and soul. anyway, this request is from MONTHS ago. i am so sorry you sweet anon but if anyone would like to read it, here it finally is. 

hope you’re all having a splendid day. x

— elle <3