#peter parker x twin!reader

[delicatebarness]

safe & sound | prologue

Summary: Bucky is given his new assignment.

Warning: Mob AU. Age Gap (Bucky - late 40s/Reader - early 20s). Dad's Best Friend. Mentions of Violence/Blood/Bones. Mentions of weapons.

Word Count: 423

Spotify Playlist

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A/N: I wanted to just get on with it and make a start. As always feedback is appreciated and highly encouraged :) thank you!!

Tags: Let me know if you want to be tagged.

In the city's heart, shadows danced in the alleyways and whispers carried weight, the weight of the Rogers dynasty. Steve Rogers, a man of authority, led his empire with a determination that brooked no dissent. His wife, Natasha Romanoff-Rogers stood by his side, an equal in every sense, and her presence was as chilling as a winter evening. 

Their legacy was filled with secrets, built upon the bones and blood of those who dared to oppose them—bounded by a fierce love that went beyond the chaos they masterminded. 

Then, there were the twins. Their children, you and Peter, bore the weight of your parents' legacy on your shoulders.

Peter was the elder twin, a reflection of your father’s determination. From a young age, your parents groomed him to inherit the family business. He was schooled in the art of manipulation and intimidation. 

You were the younger twin and the polar opposite of your brother. Where Peter had embraced the darkness of the family name, you sought out the light. Your innocence remained untarnished as you wandered through life with wonder and hope. 

Together, you were the heirs to the Rogers legacy, a legacy steeped in blood and betrayal.

Your paths diverged further as you grew older. Peter had immersed himself in your family’s business, an ambition driving him to climb the ranks of the underworld. One day, take over your father’s mantle.

On the other hand, you yearned for something more, something that went beyond the confines of your family’s gilded cage. 

As the Rogers legacy thrived, a whisper of a testament to the power, love, and loyalty lurked within. You and Peter stood at the edge of your destinies as a shadow of your father’s past loomed ever larger, threatening to consume the Rogers whole. 

It was in the wake of this ominous threat that your father, the patriarch of your family, made a decision that altered the course of your life forever. Concerned for your safety, he turned to his oldest friend, a man who was forged from the same steel as himself: Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. Known throughout the underground as “The Winter Soldier” but to you and Peter, he was “Uncle Bucky.” 

“Will you protect her, Buck?” Your father’s voice was grave as he asked for his friend's support, his eyes reflected a weight of the world that had settled upon his shoulders. 

Bucky’s gaze met his with a solemn node. “You don’t even have to ask, Steve.” And with their agreement, a new chapter in your life began.

---

Masterlist | Next Chapter

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

2.5k sleepover ♡

thank you all so much for 2.5k followers! i won't be doing a usual celebration this time around, even with as much as i want to and love that kind of celebration with fun requests, I have way too many wips that I'm currently working on and don’t wanna lose the spark while it's there... so this time it's just gonna be some fun little games! thank you again and I love you all immensely ♡

this celebration will run from now till the 10th of march. anyone can participate and you can send in as many asks as you’d like, there is no limit.

navigation | masterlist

our lips are sealed - tell me a random fact about yourself and I’ll say who I ship you with!

billboard dad - games! (cast your mutuals, fuck marry kill, would you rather…)

holiday in the sun - i'll give you a nostalgic song that has your vibe!

moots: @ddejavvu @oncasette @fightingdragonswithwho @fleurfairie @fxllfaiiry @magicchai @sunflowerharrington @luveline @gaelic-symphony @deeplywornletters @prettyboyeddiemunson @forourmoons @creelteeth @reidslovely @wonderlandhatter @appocalipse @lovetaints @starlit-moonlight @sapphireplums @wanturvideo @chvoswxtch @autumneverleigh @lanadelreyscokewhor3 @lucasnclair @midniteluv @sw34terw34ther

[ibbythebee]

masterlist of the bee

Also quick disclaimers:

All my writing is fictional and therefore are not intended to reflect any views or actions of anyone I write for, even Y/N.

All my works are for female readers.

If you are not 18+ do not read or interact with 'smut' stories. I will put 18+ warnings at the top of stories to indicate this too.

Thank you for reading, hope you enjoy :]

· · ────── · Peter Parker · ────── · ·

Late Night Study | smut, fluff | Peter’s having trouble with his homework, and you help him out... in more ways than one.

Prescription | big fluff, tiny smut | Peter feels like you're the only one he can go to when he's all bloody from his Spider-Man duties.

· · ───── · Fred Weasley · ───── · ·

Anything | fluff, slight angst, slow-burn ish | Fred would do anything to see you, 'Hogwart's strictest Prefect', loosen up.

· · ──── · Neville Longbottom · ──── · ·

Hospital Wing Hermits | so fluffy with a pinch of angst | From Neville's second year to his last, his most memorable times with you have been spent in the Hospital Wing.

· · ──── · Seamus Finnigan · ──── · ·

Green-Eyed | fluffy angst | Seamus shouldn't be jealous of Ginny spending more time with you. You're just a friend to him, nothing more... right?

· · ────── · Request rules· ────── · ·

I have the right to decline a request. Please do not feel hurt or ignored if I do not complete your request, as it might just be because I don’t feel particularly inspired or am busy with real life stuff. As we all are sometimes ╥﹏╥

I write for the following:

Any Peter Parker of any universe. All of them are precious bois

Harry Potter universe characters (mostly Neville, the Weasley twins, Harry, Ron, Draco, perhaps sprinkle in a few of the side characters like Seamus or Dean)

Maybe some other characters in the future??? Depends on which characters I'm obsessing over at the current moment

Please do NOT request the following:

Explicit scenes of sexual harassment/abuse or suicide/self harm (there may be mentions or implications but nothing ever explicitly told)

Rape play… look whether I'm kinkshaming or not, rape play just isn’t it guys. This do be my opinion, do what you gotta do, but make sure there is full consent!!

There’s probably other things, so I might update this slowly if I remember to hehe. You can always ask me, if in doubt.

Even if you don't want to request something and just want to chat, you're more than welcome to! I am also a shy person in real life, so don't hesitate to talk about anything that might be on your mind.

okey bye :]

[distinguisheddingus]

TASM Peter Parker, Steve Harrington, the Weasley Twins, Kol and Elijah Mikaelson will always be my comfort characters.

They'll always have a special place in my heart.

[moonvyx]

✧.* ᴍᴏᴏɴᴠʏx'ꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ  ✧.*

- ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏʟᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴀʟʟ. ꜱᴏ ᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛ ᴀ ꜰᴇᴡ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴄʀɪɴɢᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴇɪʀᴅ. -

- ɴᴏ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴍᴀʏ ʙᴇ ᴀ ꜰᴇᴡ ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ɪᴛ. -

❀ - 𝘰𝘭𝘥

✧ - 𝘯𝘦𝘸

☾ - 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵

♡ - 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧  

-ˏˋ ࿐°˖*✧ʜᴀʀʀʏ ᴘᴏᴛᴛᴇʀ✧˖*°࿐ ˊˎ

✧.*≪ ɢᴏʟᴅᴇɴ ᴛʀɪᴏ ᴇʀᴀ ≫✧.*

↳˗ˏˋ ᴅɪꜱɴᴇʏ - ʜᴀʀʀʏ ᴘᴏᴛᴛᴇʀ ࿐ྂ  ❀ ♡ 

↳˗ˏˋ ɢᴏᴏᴅ 4 ᴜ - ʜᴀʀʀʏ ᴘᴏᴛᴛᴇʀ ࿐ྂ  ❀ ☾ 

↳˗ˏˋ ʜᴀᴘᴘɪᴇʀ - ʜᴀʀʀʏ ᴘᴏᴛᴛᴇʀ ࿐ྂ  ❀ ☾

↳˗ˏˋ ᴘᴜᴘ - ʜᴀʀʀʏ ᴘᴏᴛᴛᴇʀ ࿐ྂ  ❀ ♡

↳˗ˏˋ ᴅᴏʟʟʜᴏᴜꜱᴇ - ʜᴀʀʀʏ ᴘᴏᴛᴛᴇʀ ࿐ྂ  ❀ ☾

↳˗ˏˋ ᴀᴍᴏꜱ' ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴀɴɢᴇʟ - ʜᴀʀʀʏ ᴘᴏᴛᴛᴇʀ ࿐ྂ  ❀ ♡

↳˗ˏˋ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀɴ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ - ʜᴀʀʀʏ ᴘᴏᴛᴛᴇʀ ࿐ྂ  ❀ ♡ ☾

↳˗ˏˋ ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘᴏᴠᴇʀ - ʜᴀʀʀʏ ᴘᴏᴛᴛᴇʀ ࿐ྂ  ❀ ♡

↳˗ˏˋ ᴏʟᴅ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ - ᴡᴇᴀꜱʟᴇʏ ᴛᴡɪɴꜱ ࿐ྂ  ❀ ♡ ☾

✧.*≪ ᴍᴀʀᴀᴜᴅᴇʀꜱ ᴇʀᴀ ≫✧.*

↳˗ˏˋ ᴋɪꜱꜱᴇꜱ - ʜᴀʀʀʏ ᴘᴏᴛᴛᴇʀ ࿐ྂ  ❀ ♡

↳˗ˏˋ ʜɪꜱ ʜᴏᴏᴅɪᴇ - ʀᴏʟꜰ ꜱᴄᴀᴍᴍᴀɴᴅᴇʀ ࿐ྂ  ❀ ♡

↳˗ˏˋ 54321 -  ᴊᴀᴍᴇꜱ ᴘᴏᴛᴛᴇʀ ࿐ྂ  ✧ ☾

↳˗ˏˋ ꜱᴛᴀʀɢᴀᴢɪɴɢ -  ꜱɪʀɪᴜꜱ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ ࿐ྂ  ✧ ♡

↳˗ˏˋ ᴍɪɴᴇ-  ʀᴇᴍᴜꜱ ʟᴜᴘɪɴ ࿐ྂ  ✧  ♡

↳˗ˏˋ ꜰʟɪʙʙᴇʀᴛɪɢɪʙʙᴇᴛ -  ꜱɪʀɪᴜꜱ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ ࿐ྂ  ✧  ☾

✧.*≪ ᴇxᴛʀᴀ ≫✧.*

-ˏˋ ࿐°˖*✧ᴍᴀʀᴠᴇʟ✧˖*°࿐ ˊˎ

↳˗ˏˋ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ - ᴘᴇᴛᴇʀ ᴘᴀʀᴋᴇʀ (ᴀɴʏ) ࿐ྂ  ❀ ☾

↳˗ˏˋ ʟᴏᴠᴇ - ᴘᴇᴛᴇʀ ᴘᴀʀᴋᴇʀ (ᴀɴᴅʀᴇᴡ ɢᴀʀꜰɪᴇʟᴅ) ࿐ྂ  ❀ ☾

[fandomnerd9602]

Scarlet Webs

Wanda Maximoff x Spider-Man!Reader

For @tokufighter

She thought it was the end. Wanda Maximoff was supposed to die on that mountain along with the Scarlet Witch. And yet the next thing that Wanda remembers was falling.

Falling in the open air towards a series of buildings. Was it New York? How did this happen?!

Wanda found herself falling towards the ground faster and faster, her magic rendered useless. And then came a blur of red and blue, zipping into her view.

Suddenly the ground stopped growing near, "don't worry ma'am I got you" you reassured her before landing on top of the Empire State Building.

"You good?" you tried to ask her, calmly reassuring this mysterious and beautiful woman before you.

"Peter? You're here?" Wanda asked you.

"Sorry?" you asked back a little confused. "Who's Peter?"

"Peter Parker? Oh come on" Wanda rolled her eyes at you, "I know you, Spider-Man"

You removed your mask, exposing your face. Wanda gasped, "You're not Peter Parker"

"Sorry. I'm (Y/N), (Y/N) (L/N)" you gave a smile to her. Your smile, something about it seemed familiar.

And then it hit her like a ton of bricks. It was the same smile that haunted her dreams. The smile that graced the faces of her twin boys.

"I've never see someone like you before" you spoke, interrupting her thoughts.

"Ever hear of the Avengers?" she asked you, a small blush making its way across her face.

"Yeah. I'm a proud member" you smiled back.

Could this be it? Could you of all people be the key to the life she had with her boys?

"Since you're not from around here" you gave a nervous shrug, "maybe I could show you around."

You held out your hand to her, a simple little invite but one that held so much more with it. Wanda couldn't help but smile and take your hand.

"I'd like that" she whispered back.

She could see herself already falling in love with you.

[kombuuuu]

Hello✋🏾! If I could request a Peter b parker x wife!reader where they have twins (including mayday) during the events of the movie?

No.1 Dad!

“Baby, Please. It’s a canon thing!”

“They’re toddlers!”

PeterBParker x Wife!Reader + little ones :]

light angst and a chase scene. ending is mostly comforting daddy parker

(it’s not sad i jus ❤️ this gif)

(Benjy is a canon named Kid of Peter B Parker’s in the Comics!)

“Peter Benjamin Parker.”

“Oh shit.”

The father of two grimaced at the room full of spidey people. The voice of his wife sounding through the phone and into the echoing room.

“Tell me, why the fuck-“ Peter dragged a worried hand down his face. Miles snickering next to Hobie in the background. “—I woke up, to not only my *husband missing from my bed.” He sucked in a breath, glancing over at Miguel. Stood unimpressed with two spider-children climbing all over him and his platform. “But my two toddlers *lost from their damn cribs.” “Baby, I can explain.” He focused back on the phone, crowding over it like it would help conceal the conversation at all.

“You are in so much shit when you get home, young man.”

“I’m older than you by four years!”

“Watch your tone with me, Mister.”

He groaned, huffing and pouting into the phone while you continued to scold him before Miguel interrupted.

“Good morning, [name]. Hope you slept well.” His monotoned voice drawled out while picking the children off his clothes like bugs, and putting them back on Peter.

“Leave my wife alone.”

“Oh my god, please go somewhere private for this conversation.” Miguel rubbed between his eyes, his favourite thing to do apparently.

Your voice spoke back over him. “I don’t need privacy, I need my damn— Oh! Found it.”

“Baby, what are you—“ The connection cut off midway through his sentence, causing him to huff before realising; “Hey! That got me out of it!”

He straightened his posture, collecting his kids, Mayday and Benjy. And stuffing them into their baby carriers, carefully threading their limbs through each limb-window, as he called it.

A sparkle of warm tones caught his eye, circling from nothing into a fully developed portal.

“Oh, I should’ve known.”

“I seem to be making you say ‘Oh’ a lot.”

“You should’a heard you last night.”

“Peter!” He laughed as he watched you make your way over to him, giving Miguel a courteous nod and Miles a questioning glance. You looked so beautiful. An angel to him, the love of his life. He was so lucky to have you. And the little family you had created for yourselves. All the baby-stealing and stupid pictures aside, you were beyond enamoured with him as well.

“You’re lucky I still have this old thing, Parker. Or you wouldn’t have wanted to come home.

Despite the obvious threat, the only thing he could focus on was “come home”. A sentiment that was single to just your home, or just his home. But it was home. For a family, his family.

The admiration was broken when you pinched his nose. “Ow!”

“Shouldn’t have taken my kids.”

“Our kids!”

“Yeah whatever.”

You turned to Miguel, scanning the room and being very unsurprised at the amount of spider people here. If it was something important, Miguel loved a show. “What’s going on?”

“I’m… explaining something.”

“Uhuh.” you blinked at him slowly, unbelieving.

“Stop talking to my wife.” peter cut in.

“The fate of the multiverse is at stake, [name].-“ He threw his hands up, then gestures aggressively towards the kid next to Hobie.

“It’s his father, or an entire universe!”

“She’s not into you weirdo, back off.”

“Uhuh. And how old is the kid?”

He had the gall to look ashamed. Mayday babbled behind you. Giggling excitedly once she and Benjy had lost interest in whatever they were messing with on Peters suit. “Oh, come here baby.”

“How come I didn’t get that?”

Peter pouted over at you, rocking Benji gently, who was still half asleep.

You turned back around with your kid around your hip, addressing the kid near the centre of the room. “Hey uh—.”

“Miles!” He perked up, shyly waving at you.

“Oh, Miles! Peter talks so much about you.”

“No, I don’t.”

“He even named our dog after you!”

“No, I didn’t!”

“It’s so lovely to finally meet you.” You smiled at Miles whilst he smiled back, happy to know Peter thought of him as much as he did Peter.

“You too, Mrs.Parker!”

“Don’t listen to this lady, she’s crazy and a psychopath!”

Peter stepped into place beside you, shaking his one un-baby-occupied hand in the air wildly.

“She’s off her meds!”

“Peter.”

He grumbled and stuck his tongue out. Blowing a raspberry, which Mayday happily replicated. You put the tip of your finger on Maydays tongue, pushing it back into her mouth. “Don’t do that, germs.”

turning away from peter, you kissed her cheek in apology, whispering “It’s not you, it’s him.” In her tiny ear.

You propped your free hand on your hip, looking up at Miguel on his platform.

He looked away. Hand settling below his chin as he closed his eyes and sighed.

“There’s that contemplative expression again.”

“Why is he always contemplating, nothing’s that serious.”

“I dunno.” Peter shrugged. He crept up close to you, putting his arm around you waist and leaning down to smell your perfume.

“I like that one.”

You smiled, tilting your head back to look at him, “I know,”.

Miguel continued on with his explanation, showing miles the different Canon events. Showing him Peters, Gwen’s, yours. When Miles seems to suddenly realise something.

“The Spot does it.” His hands shake alongside his voice, Peter glances over to you in worry, but ultimately focuses back on Miles. “He kills ‘im.” The boys shoulders drop in defeat.

“When does it happen.”

Miguel looks away, shaking his head and wincing.

Miles turns to the small group surrounding him, helpless.

“When does it happen?!”

“In two days,” Miles whips back towards him. “When he’s sworn in.”

“That’s- what the model says.”

“I’ sorry Miles-“

“Send me home.”

“I can’t do that, not now.”

Gwen winces and squeezes her eyes shut. Body stuff and unmoving.

“What am I supposed to do then? Let him die?!”

Miguel pauses. And doesn’t relent.

Miles’s face contorts for a second before he turns, gesturing vaguely at Gwen.

“What about your dad? He’s a captain, right?”

She just sighs, “Yeah.”

“Wh- And that’s it! You guys aren’t even gonna do anything about it?!”

Gwen looks down, ashamed.

Mayday grabs hold of your finger. Noting the serious tones of the situation, she stays quiet. He scoffs and turns to Peter.

“Okay what about Uncle Ben? That’d been okay? If you knew and you just—,” he stuttered, “Let it play out?!”

Peter stepped forward, putting a reassuring hand on his students shoulder. “If not for uncle ben, most of us wouldn’t be here Miles.”

He pauses to look at the webbed window of his Ben.

“The good we did it-,” he breathes, “It wouldn’t have been done.”

You harden your gaze over your husband. He doesn’t look at you.

Miles nods, “So we’re just’ supposed to let people die because some algorithm—!” he hits Peters hand of his shoulder and starts towards Miguel again. “Woah, woah.” Lyla interjected. “—Says that that’s supposed to happen?!”

He swings his arms in annoyance, in *fear.

This is a *kid.

“You realise how messed up that sounds, right?”

With a better moral code than most in this room.

“You have a choice between saving one person—“ The slow approach of other spider people filled out the fog coating the room. “—And saving an entire world, every world!” Miguel points at him, hand on hip.

“I can do both!” He tries,

“Spiderman always-,”

“Not always.”

Miles looks to Peter, seeking back up. Peters face twists something sorry, and Miles’s flashes of hurt.

Benji starts to wake up, cooing softly at his dad.

Miguel’s hand gently turns the boy back around, this isn’t looking good.

You glance at Hobie, seeing the apprehension in his posture as he meets your gaze.

He glanced down at Mayday in question, you reassure him with a nod. If it comes to it, you’ll put her in peters baby carrier for safety. He nods back.

“Miles, we all want to lead the life we wish we had.” When Miles shrugs him off he raises his hands.

“Believe me, I’ve tried.”His hands slowly lowered. Miles’ breathing got heavier.

“And the harder I tried, the more damage I did.”

“You can’t have it all, kid.”

Miles looked around in panic, noticing the faces creeping up on him. He makes eye contact with you, and you try and signal your support.

If you run, I’ll run too.

“Being Spiderman is a sacrifice. That’s the job, that’s what you signed up for.”

A robotic voice caught your attention as a large suit approached the outer circle.

“Miles.” The faceplate opened.

“Penny?”

He put up his defences once more.

“What is this?” He yelled, the force of his words drawing an immediate attention. “Is this an intervention or something?”

“We know it’s hard, but it’s the truth, Miles.”

You glare at the faces around you, Adjusting Mayday on your hip and keeping an eye out for your two boys.

Miles and Benji.

Peter will be dealt with later.

Miles stumbles back, righting his foot and turning to Peter.

“Is that why you’re here? To—“

he clenched his fist, “To let me down easy?”

You watch your lover closely, the look on his face telling you all you need to know, and apparently same goes for Miles.

“It worked last time, why not run it back huh?” his voice was raising, Benji getting uncomfortable at the tone.

“Woah- hey, hold on. Hold on!” He raised his hand in a placating matter, trying to tune Miles down.

“You were right, Gwen.”

You glanced up at her, his venomed whisper doing its intended purpose, hurt.

“You should have never come to see me.”

Peter slowly approached Miles, bending down to his height like a person to a stray dog.

“Kid, look at me-“ “Stop callin’ me that.”

“There you go.” You sent Hobie a huff of appraise.

“Hobie, you’re not helping.”

“Good.”

Miles gratefully nodded at him.

“Miles, please understand-“ Peter tried.

“Peter.” Your stern voice interrupted him, and he shut down his attempt.

“You can’t ask me not to save my father.”

“I’m not asking.”

You glared at Miguel, only noticing the barrier a little too late. It opened under Miles, trapping him within when the inner circle started to protest.

“Miguel just give him a second! Please!”

“Dont! Stop it.”

“You let him leave, he’ll only do more damage.”

Gwen intervened, “Enough!”

You rushed towards the barrier with Mayday, her reaching for the barrier in confusion. You can’t help him out of this, you don’t know how.

“Miguel, let him out! He’s a kid.” You raised your voice. Weaponising your authority.

“Miguel this is too far.”

“[Name], it’ll only hold him few days.” He turned around to walk away.

Miles was panicking, banging on the barriers walls and spinning to try and find a weak point. His eyes caught onto Hobie. Doing nothing but holding his palms out, and giving him an earnest look. “Sorry it had to end like this, kid.”

“I said—“ Miles placed his hands flat on the barrier, right above his head. Palms out, You backed up shielding Mayday and dragging Peter to turn around and using him as a body block for Benji.

“—Not-“ The barriers begun to crack, shatter like glass.

“—To call me that!” A wave of energy pushed everyone down as the barrier broke, exploding in a mess of bright colours.

You heard Hobie chuckle, and looked up at Miles in amazement. A second where he caught your eye, he darted. Running straight for the exit.

“Miles!” Miguel screeched.

You stuffed Mayday in her carrier in record time and blew them a kiss as you pounced from your position to catch up with Miles.

Unbeknownst to you, Your husband, along with every other spider person, would follow. Except Hobie.

“Just for the record, I quit.”

—

You had found Miles being interrogated by your lover, him holding up your two children like bribing toys.

“C’mon- just hold ‘em!”

“I don’t want to do that.”

Miles manoeuvred slyly through all the cranks and pipes, your Spidey following swiftly behind him. “Just one hold! It’s rejuvenating!”

“I’m plenty juvenated!” Miles retorted.

You were going to interrupt when you lagged behind a bit, getting stuck on a moving pipe.

When you finally freed yourself, you stumbled into a cute moment between the two.

“I wanted them to be like you!”

He stared at your husband, vulnerable and scared, the beginnings of a smile creeping onto his face.

Mayday and Benji bickered with each other in his hold.

Peters watch suddenly lit up.

“Okay, Peter I’ve got your location.”

Their faces dropped, betrayal raw on the young boys.

“No, no. You do not have my location!”

Him peeling open the crate to the industrial fans, and slipping in. You using your webs to sling in after him and pull the crate shut behind you. Catching Peters fleeting glance before what seemed twenty different spider people broke through the crate, smashing through fans.

You followed miles swiftly, through the busses and over cartops. Using your webs to keep up with him. He wasn’t bad, for someone so young.

“I’m a great mentor!”

You huffed at Peters distant offended tone. “Sure, baby.” You muttered.

You hooked around a building, watching as Miles cut himself off from Gwen. Her hand reaching out for him as he fell. Your spidey senses caught your attentions, tingling in the forefront of your mind. You zeroed in on Miles and watched as he aimed for the train. It hadn’t looked like anyone else had caught on yet. Still scrambling to get to him, instead of trying to cut him off.

—

Miguel had the kid by the throat. Slamming him against the train doors and dragging his body up with him. You watched in fear as he spoke to the boy.

“You’re a mistake!”

You screamed at him from your position below, begging for him to just let the kid go. Miles caught you gaze. You fought against the wind, trying hard to get to him, and keeping an eye on Peter and your babies.

“If you hadn’t been bit-!” Miguel slammed his back again. You winced. “Your Peter Parker would have lived!”

Miles struggled against him, trying to push off the claws attacking him. “Instead he died- Saving you.”

“He would have stopped the collider before it went off. Spot wouldn’t exist-“ “Peter!” “-And none of this, would have happened.”

The three of you climbed to get to them. You grabbed Benji off peter, Cradling him in your arms as the winds were getting too rough.

Miguel slammed him back again, crowding over the small boy and growling his words.

“And all this time— I have been the only one holding all this together.”

“Miguel go easy on him!” Peter called down from his spot behind you, he sounded devastated, your heart broke for him. You knew how much he loved Miles, thinking of him almost like his first son. Your husband would bring him up so often, wondering what he was doing when he could see through the Spidey-Windows Miguel would (angrily) provide.

He always stressed when Miles had to figure out things himself, saying things like “Just give me a day with him, we’ll figure it out!” “He’s a kid Miguel. Wouldn’t you have wanted a mentor back then?” “I’m a great mentor.” “You just don’t see my brilliance.”

Benji babbled in your arms and you cooed back at him, spider beanie pulled snug over his face. Huh, he was pretty rejuvenating.

Miguel leaned closer, growling words of disgust to the kid.

“Let me go!” Miles struggled against him. A choked sound came from Peter, and when you looked back at him you swore you could see his eyes shine with unshed tears.

“Miguel that’s enough!” Gwen shouted.

“This isn’t what we talked about!”

Miles stopped struggling.

“You talked about this?” He looked down at Peter, heart breaking.

“You knew?”

Peter looked down, ashamed. Clinging onto the train but no longer climbing. Mayday held tightly to his chest with the other hand, he caught your eye.

“Peter what did you do..” Your breath escaped you and the words came out a whisper, flown away by the winds around you.

“You all knew?”

Your head shot up, starting to disagree before Gwen spoke.

“I.. I didn’t know..” She looked away, unable to face him.

“How to tell you.”

“That’s why you never came to see me.”

“Miles it’s for your own good!”

He pushed forwards.

“Who decides that?”

Miguel pushed back.

“I’m not a kid Gwen.”

Miguel grunted, slamming him again, the dent in the train deepening every time. “That’s exactly what you are! You’re just a kid!”

“Who has no idea what he’s doing!” Miles grabbed onto his shoulders, trying to squirm further from the beast on him.

His fingers sparked.

Miguel shoved his forearm against Miles’ neck, pushing his face against broken metal.

“Yeah well, I did get hundreds of Spider people away from your own club house.”

The roaring of spider people climbing the train travelled straight to Miguel’s ears.

“I guess he did plan this out!”

You smiled up at him. Seeing him smug back.

“And, I’m about to do this.”

He latched his sparking fingers onto Miguel’s shoulders. Clenching down and watching the starts of his electricity flow through the man’s arms.

The elder was the on struggling now, confused grunts paired with an effort to escape the boys hold.

“Everyone keeps tellin’ me how my story is s’posed to go.

Nah, Imma do my own thing.”

He pushed his whole hands against blue spiders chest.

“Sorry, but i’m going home.”

He pushed Miguel off of him right as he ignited the current buzzing underneath their veins. And watched as the Brunettes body ragdolled off of him and shot off the train and into the open sky.

The fanged man dragged his hand through waves of spider people, struggling to catch himself against smooth metal.

You looked back up at Miles, as he stood, connected by a single web to the speeding train.

“Goodbye, Gwen.”

He cut the thread and fell.

Gwen yelled for him, a call of his name. But peter? Peter just watched with his heart in his throat. His own betrayal heavy on his heart.

—

You were finally at home again. The stress of the day weighing high on the both of you. Even Mayday and Benji seemed to have noticed the tension.

Getting tired over all the moving and all the fighting, it was barely 7:30 before they were dead asleep.

“You think we’re bad parents?”

You were stood leaning over he crib, arms rested on its gates. Peter crowded over you, covering you in his smell and feeling. The weight on his body pressing against your back was akin to a weighted blanket, grounding you as you watched your sweet children breathe.

“Nah, Everyone has their first chase.”

“Well,..”

“Ehhh, want to see the cute photo I got of Benj and May?”

“Fuck, yeah.”

—

Your husband had been off the whole rest of the night. When you two had sat down together to watch the first mind numbing thing you could find, he couldn’t stop moving. Jittering with nerves.

You were waiting patiently for him to work the courage to say what he needed. Not ever preparing for something like this.

“Think Miles hates me?” It was said slyly. Like he was playing it off to be nothing, but the tension in his shoulder told you otherwise. “I think he’ll be hurt. And upset, but I don’t think he hates you.” He picked at his nails as you spoke, you curled your hands over the expanse of his chest and fit your ledge over his waist, he looked up at you through wet lashes.

“Are you sure cause-“ He cut himself off with a clear of his throat, not wanting to sob over something so *stupid in his head.

“Oh, baby. You’re so sweet, but he could never hate you.”

Peters hands stopped fiddling with themselves, smoothening down the curve of your ass and the small of your back.

“Okay,”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.”

He sounded relieved, if not a little suspicious.

He dug his face into the juncture between your neck and shoulder and inhaled deeply.

“Creep.”

He nipped at your skin lightly in retaliation.

“Miguel talks to you too much.”

“Every sentence we shared was negative.”

“He’s like that.”

You scoffed at him playfully and he smiled into your neck, turning his cheek to your skin and watching you. “I’ll make sure next time we talk, it’ll be in sign.”

“No, I don’t speak ASL, what if he says something about me?”

“He says something about you out loud, baby.”

“Yeah but I can’t hear it if he’s signing.”

—

Even later in the night, when you heard the shower running and soft sobs coming from the bathroom. You did nothing but undress and climb in with him. Rubbing your hands soothingly down his back, spreading soap along his chest and back and massaging it in deep for him.

You let him hold himself up against you, and pretended not to notice the difference between the shower water and his tears. You dragged him down to your height, a hand tucked into his soft hair before your lips met his. He would settle his hands on your hips, push you ever closer to him. And take the comfort you gave him in stride.

Eventually you would pay mine to your water bill, and would dry each other off carefully, get dressed together and settle in your shared bed. It was 1 AM now, but you couldn’t care less, being in the arms of your lover had outweighed any negatives lack of sleep could bestow. He would make it up to Miles. Solve the problems of the universe (multiverse), and have you two meet for real. Introducing Miles to his wife, and his son to his twins.

—

I WENT OFF THE RAILSSSS

probs making a part two later, for more peter daddy snippets and cute kids plus wifey reader

[keerysfreckles]

secret - peter parker (tasm)

pairing: tasm!peter x f!reader

summary: peter goes to y/n, his best friends twin sister, to help patch up his wounds.

warnings: use of y/n and she!her pronouns, maybe two swear words, small makeout seshhh

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

y/n wasn't doing anything unusual on her saturday night. she always watched a movie before falling asleep so tonight was no different while high school musical was displayed on the tv in her bedroom.

however the only difference tonight was a knocking sound came from her bedroom window. y/n, now confused, walked towards the sound and opened the curtain. she was most certainly taken aback by the brunette boy crouching on her fire escape.

"peter? what the hell are you doing here?" y/n asks while opening her window. the question having two meanings; why peter was in her room, or why peter was on her fire escape. she's quiet with helping peter threw the small window, not wanting her brother to hear from the room next to hers.

"i'm supposed to hang out with josh, but-" before peter finishes his sentence he lifts his shirt, revealing three giant gashes across his torso. y/n gasps before covering her mouth.

"peter what happened?"

"i uh- tripped?" he simply shrugs it off before sitting at the foot of the bed. he places his backpack down and is quick to zip it up, encasing the red and blue fabric inside.

"just stay here," y/n starts to walk to her bedroom door, "and please dont make any noise."

peter only laughs, at y/n's words and the disney musical playing on her tv. his head turns as y/n walks back inside with a white box. peter guesses it's a first aid kit.

y/n walks around the boy, and sits on his right side. "lay down," y/n instructs. peter obeys, as he lays back on the comforter. his eyes watch the slow moving ceiling fan to distract him from the cold wipes y/n uses to wipe the excess blood off of his skin.

"sorry," y/n whispers, and peter lets out a small response, before grimacing again.

"how did this even happen?" y/n asks, while starting to patch up the open wounds with gauze and medical tape.

peter doesn't respond at first, as he's not entirely sure if he should lie or tell the girl the truth. her own brother doesn't even know about peter's secret.

"pete?" y/n voice is softer than before, and she looked him in the eyes now. she had just finished patching up the third and final wound.

peter sits up slightly and leans on his elbows. "can i tell you something?"

y/n simply nods and watches peter take a deep breath.

"do you ever notice how i disappear a lot whenever i hang out with you and josh?"

y/n nods again.

"it's not because i have catchup homework or i remembered aunt may needed something," peter looked up at y/n, before taking in another breath. "i'm spiderman."

"what?" peter could barely hear y/n's voice, but he could certainly hear the confusion.

peter gets off the bed and hands the girl his backpack. she only looks at him once before unzipping it. a small gasp leaves her lips when she pulls out a red and blue spandex suit.

"so you're really spiderman," y/n looks over the suit.

she looks up at peter who only responds with a dopey half-smile, which only makes her laugh. "how did this even happen?" she asks, and refers to the suit in her hands.

"i was sorta bitten by a radioactive spider at the place gwen used to work at," peter explains.

"wait so what exactly did that do?" y/n's genuine curiosity shocks peter. he was mostly worried she'd never want to talk to him again, or freak out and tell her brother.

peter rolls the sleeves up of his longsleeve shirt and shows the girl the black bands on his wrists. he chuckles as her eyebrows furrow. peter simply shoots a web towards the backpack on the bed, and is quick to hold it in his hand.

he chuckles again at y/n's reaction. "holy shit!" y/n's jaw is to the floor as she's amazed by the boy in front of her. "what else can you do?"

once again, peter lets out a laugh, before he drops the backpack on the ground. y/n watches peter stand on her bed and jump. his hand touches the ceiling which leaves the boy hanging there. y/n laughs before covering her mouth and watches peter bring his other limbs up as he starts to crawl on her ceiling.

"that's so cool!" y/n exclaims while peter lands on his feet with a thud.

y/n stands with the first aid kit to put it back in the bathroom, however she feels a small tug at the back of her shirt.

"i can also do this," peter states, before y/n twirls back towards peter until she's right in front of him. she looks down at the white stringy web now wrapped around her waist.

before she can get a single word out, peter's lips meet hers. his hands hold her waist until one moves to cup her cheek. after y/n's first reaction of shock fades away, her hands rest on peter's shoulders, before her hands interlock behind his neck.

the kiss is quick to heaten up. peter moves y/n to her bed and leans her down, with him hovering over her. y/n's hands are now on peter's jaw as she caresses over his skin, and peter feels nothing but butterflies in his stomach.

much to the two teenagers dismay, they pull away from each slightly and both catch their breath.

both y/n and peter's heads turn at the sound of a rattling doorknob. peter's quick to lock it as he shoots a web across the room.

"y/n?" josh calls from the other side of the door. "i heard a loud thud from my room. you okay?"

y/n's eyes scan her floor and she internally groans at herself for dropping the first aid kit from earlier.

she's quick to come up with a lie, "yeah i uh- just dropped my history books."

y/n's shoulders relax as josh responds, "oh okay, just checking."

as soon as josh's door closing could be heard from y/n's room, peter questions, "where were we?"

[lovelettersforthedamned]

Okk hear me out differently peter parker reading bed time stories to your twin daughters and when they go to sleep your all over peter telling him how amazing he is and ride himm-

World’s Best Dad

--genre + trope: SMUT, FLUFF, dad!peter, husband!peter.

--pairing: dad!tasm!peter parker x mom!reader

--word count: 1.3k

--warnings: no foreplay (reader and peter are HORNY), unprotected sex (don't even think about it), PinV, creampie, kinda sub!peter, PETER LOVES HIS WIFE, mentions of kids, fluffy as hell.

Your evenings look different now that your daughters, Aaliyah and Ida, aren’t in diapers anymore. Dinner as a family isn’t full of screams and cries, bathtime is suddenly fun with the toys you’ve collected over the years, and bedtime stories are actually read. Walking down the hallway of your apartment, you see your two girls run across with wet feet and a towel wrapped around their small silhouette, followed by your husband picking up their clothes from the day into the hamper. Your eyes meet for a split second as he crosses your path through the doorway, “Do you want me to clean up dinner?”

“No it’s alright,” you wave him off, “I think they want you to read them a story tonight, they were practically pleading for a book on the way home from school today.”

A chuckle leaves his lips as you turn around to start the dishes when you feel a hand gently grasp your upper arm, stopping you in his tracks. Turning back around to face your husband, you've met with his wickedly sharp, yet warm gaze. Looking down at your lips, you know exactly what he wants, and it’s confirmed when he brings a hand to the side of your face and guides you into a deep kiss. 

A few quick pecks later, the sound of your girls giggling in their room interrupts you, “I love you, Pete.” 

Peter places one last kiss on your forehead as he speaks, mumbling into your skin, “I love you too, bug.” As you finally part ways, Peter can’t help but look back at you as you walk back to the kitchen. Never in a million years would he know that this would be his life, and yet he couldn’t imagine it any other way. 

It didn’t take too long for you to finish up in the kitchen, checking the time before you leave, the girls should be in bed by now. You walk towards their room, and the sight in front of you almost brings tears to your eyes. Peter was on the reclining chair with a book in his hands, and your daughters sitting on either side of him, trying their hardest to stay awake. 

You don’t fully enter the room until you know the twins have fallen asleep, not wanting to wake them further. Once Peter closes the book, you walk in quietly, your presence putting a smile on his face. Without saying anything, you take Ida while Peter takes Aaliyah into his arms. Leaning down to place Ida into bed and tucking her in, you kiss her forehead as you walk towards the door, Peter slowly following. You turn off the lights and softly close the door, leaving a crack open. 

Wordlessly, you both walk towards your room, Peter’s arm lazily falling on top of your shoulders. Peter’s the first one to enter the room, unaware of you closing and locking the door behind you. Like every other night, he sits on the edge of the bed and starts to unwind, but tonight you had a different plan. Swiftly walking over to him, you stand in between his legs and lean down to plant a passionate kiss on his lips. 

The kiss progressively turns more and more passionate, his hands finding their way onto your hips, clawing at the clothed skin, desperately trying to feel you. Without pulling away, you bring your knees up to straddle his legs, the new position allowing Peter to feel more of you. Grinding slowly on him, makes him pull away from your kiss to look up at you, his eyes glazed over as he admires you in this state. 

“Please Peter,” you whine, “take off your clothes…please.” 

Climbing off of him, you both undress with haste. You both know that neither of you needs any preparation for this, there’s an unspoken decision that you both need this right now, Peter might not know why, but who is he to turn you down? Wasting no time, you straddle him once again, the heat radiating off of your core makes Peter ache with need. 

Sinking down, you sigh with relief and pleasure, the feeling making you close your eyes and slowly throw your head back. You savor the moment as you open your eyes to look down at your husband, the sight of him making you clench around him. Still looking at him, you place your hands on his shoulders to keep your balance while you pick up the pace. His eyes are hooded, he’s too blissed out to focus on anything but the feeling you’re giving him. 

His heart rate picks up as you lean down to kiss him, a soft peck placed delicately on his lips. “Fuck Peter, do you know how fucking hot you look taking care of our family? You are such an amazing and caring man, I’m so lucky,” praise flows out of your mouth, and all Peter can do is stare up at you, unable to respond in a coherent sentence. But you don’t stop there, “And you feel so good, baby. You make me feel so good.” 

Peter lives and breathes to make you feel good, he’s always known that ever since you first started dating. He not only knew that he loved to make you feel good, but he also knew how. So every time you tell him that he makes you feel good, he can’t get enough of it. The thought of you cumming to him makes him writhe in pleasure.

“Baby, baby, baby…” Peter mumbles, he’s getting close. 

You hold his face in your hands, forcing him to look back up at you, “You gonna cum for me baby? Yeah? Good, because I’m so close Peter.” 

He finishes inside you before you can say another word, the increasing pressure causing you to cum as well. Peter is grabbing onto your hips as he rides through his high, bruises are for sure going to be there in the morning. 

After slowly coming down, you move to get off of Peter, but your legs stop you before you can take a step. Shakes riddle your muscles, exhaustion weighing on your body. Peter immediately notices your weak figure trying to move, the position now becoming uncomfortable. He wraps his arms under your thighs and stands, picking you up in the process. 

You’re limp in his arms as he carries you to the other side of the bed, softly placing you down on the sheets. You quickly sink into them, the fabric cool to the touch. All you can do is sigh, a warm state of bliss washing over your mind. The bed dips as Peter settles himself into bed next to you, a warm hand holding your face as your eyes flutter open, “I meant what I said by the way.”

A stupid grin litters his face, “Yeah, I knew you came. I felt it.”

You giggle and slightly smack his arm, “You’re so stupid…”

He laughs at your response, and the sound of your quiet giggles fills the space. “I love you, bug…so much.”

“I love you,” you hold the back of the hand that’s holding your face, “thank you for being the best husband, and the best dad the girls could ever ask for.” 

Peter studies your face, before pulling you in for what seemed like the thousandth kiss of the night, but you’re not complaining. There’s no hint for more in this kiss, he just kissed you to kiss you; to show how much he loves you. 

In the morning, you’ll wake up and do everything again, well, maybe not ride your husband until you physically can’t walk, but your day will bring you another sense of bliss. The city’s sounds along with the sun will wake the girls up, Peter will make breakfast, you’ll walk to the park, and Peter will probably read another bedtime story. 

--author's note: I'M BACK! hey guys long time no see:) had a blast writing this because i have the most intense baby fever rn, and i love picturing having a family with peter...GUYS KEEP SENDING IN REQUESTS!!!! I LOVE THEM AND I'M WORKING THROUGH THEM RIGHT NOW. please keep showing your writers love by liking, commenting, and reblogging (we love to see that YOU love our stuff). ok, bye ILY!!

[shayyprasad]

right next door // part one | peter parker

ahhhh new series!!

masterlist!

summary: you move in right next door to a cutie, problem is, he isn't much of a talker. or anything at all. but it's okay, because you're dead-set on getting him to warm up to you.

warnings: mean peter :(

pairing: peter parker x fem!bubbly!reader

word count: 1.9k+ words

you scowled under your breath, absolutely frustrated.

“if you want us to take the boxes up to the fifth level, you’re going to have to pay us extra,” the man spoke, arms crossed. the movers you had hired looked to be twins, around the age of 30, perhaps? they had heavy accents and took you to be a gullible female if they believed that you’d pay an additional 25 dollars for that.

“look, i included the information about my flat being on the fifth floor, and despite having that knowledge, you took this job. i am not paying you extra, so how about you do this right, okay?” you scoffed in disbelief; you didn’t know that moving into a new apartment would be so difficult. all you wanted was for these insufferable men to take your stuff to your flat so you could finally relax.

finally breathe, because you hadn’t gotten any “you” time since you made the decision to move into a whole new state, which you were starting to regret now.

no, no, independence is always worth it.

probably.

either way, it was nice to get away from your overbearing parents that were currently all the way over in florida.

“lady, we don’t got all day, so either pay up, or-”

“i’ll take it from here,” a male voice interjected. you looked over to see a brunette, with honey-brown colored eyes and a perfectly sculpted face.

perfectly sculpted.

perfectly.

you’d seen him a couple times when checking out the building. he lived in e11, which was part of the reason you’d moved into e12, right next door. there wasn’t anything wrong with wanting a god for a neighbor, right?

that was a rhetorical question, of course there wasn’t anything wrong with it.

after poking around (begging your landlord for his name and room number), you found out that he was peter parker from e11.

you watched him walk over and raise an eyebrow at the men, who stood unmoving. “i said we got it from here.”

“you her boyfriend or something?”

“and what would it be to you?” peter adjusted his position to where his arms were crossed, shirt tight and muscles flexed.

okay, so it wasn't just his face that was perfectly sculpted.

the men exchanged eye contact and shook their heads, sighing. you stuck your tongue out at them, despite the fact they were already walking out the door, backs facing you.

you called out, “and that’s one star for you guys on yelp!”

brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, you looked back at peter, who was already picking up a box. “oh, hey, you don’t have to do that. i’m sure i’ll manage.”

“it’s okay. i don’t mean to underestimate your strength, but these boxes aren’t very light.”

“yes, but-… are you sure? i don’t want to burden you with this.”

he glanced at you, balancing a box on top of the one he was holding, “it’s no burden. unless you don’t want my help, which is a different story altogether.”

“uh, no, nothing like that,” you hesitated. he seemed very stoic, in no mood for small talk, or to converse in general. “but thanks for what you did. i didn’t need the help, i could have handled it on my own, but… um, thanks.”

“did you a favor,” he shrugged, “you weren’t really getting anywhere with that.”

you frowned at his bluntness, but bit back a retort. he was willing to help you, this complete stranger. and for that, you were grateful.

picking up one of the lighter boxes, you followed after him on the stairs. “so… um… i’m y/n. l/n,” you added after a second.

“peter parker,” was all he said, and you nodded as if you hadn’t previously known that.

“nice to meet you, peter.”

“what room do you live in?”

“e12.” you stopped yourself from adding right next to you.

“’kay.”

“what about you?”

“huh?”

“w-where do you live?”

“e11.”

“oh,” you smiled, as if you didn’t know that as well. “that’s so cool! we’re neighbors!”

“yay.”

it seemed like that was sarcastic, so you decided that it was best to maybe shut up. so that’s what you did.

after a while, you were able to get all your boxes (with peter doing most of the work). you stood in your flat with your hands on your hips as peter put the last box down. “seriously,” you breathed, “thank you so much. i have no idea what i’d do if you weren’t there.”

“negotiate with russian twins and get nowhere.”

you laughed nervously, unsure of whether or not that was a joke. “um, you can stay a little longer, if you’d like. or not. that’s fine, too.” you were hoping he’d stay, even though you literally had nothing for him to sit on. there was no furniture… but maybe he’d want to stay anyways?

“i’m good.”

“o-okay, peter. see you around?”

without another word, he slipped out of your apartment, shutting the door behind him.

you thought that moving in next to peter would make you a little less lonely, and maybe you’d make a new friend.

but perhaps your mother was right. what if you weren’t ready for all this?

new job, new home, new state… new everything.

you were all alone in the big city.

but- but it would be okay, you decided, shaking your head. “it’s fine. i can do this. i’m going to do this. today was a minor setback, which my mom doesn’t need to know about… and i need to make new friends before talking to myself becomes a habit.”

you stood in the middle of your flat, grinning. nothing was going to stop you from achieving your dream.

-

your new job at the daily bugle wasn't going to start for another week, so you had time to unpack and adjust. music blared from the speakers, helping you get into your new groove. you sang and danced around to it, laughing like a fool (you were sleep deprived).

you took the plastic wrapping off the couches and adjusted them to where you liked, with much struggle, of course. next came chairs and tables, and you were glad to get those out of the way. once you’d completed moving and unpacking some of the bigger things, you had gotten bored.

but, nevertheless, you still wanted to be productive. finally, you settled on decorating the living room. taking out pillows, throw blankets, and pictures, you put them all in their designated places.

in complete exhaustion, you tossed yourself onto your couch. “aw, crap, where i am gonna sleep tonight?” you groaned.

in hindsight, maybe you should’ve done the bedroom first. man, you were kind of a mess without your mother.

laying there, gazing up the bare ceiling, your thoughts drifted to peter. he was mean, but in a reserved way. like it wasn’t really to be mean, but more about how his personality was. “oh, well, i’ll just make him warm up to me.”

after all, you did need friends. so why not start with peter?

with a new task at hand, you jumped up, speeding towards the kitchen. you planned on making him cookies, after all, who didn’t like those? you preheated the oven… before realizing you had to unpack all your kitchen related items.

and you had to go shopping for ingredients.

you had some money to last you until a new paycheck, so you might as well spend it somehow. besides, this could be a way to get peter to like you.

not like that.

well, not yet.

first, you had to get him to be friends with you. no, scratch that. you had to go shopping first.

-

“you need butter to make cookies, right?” you asked yourself, glancing over to your cart that currently held milk, eggs, and flour in it. “oh! and sugar! …vanilla extract? why on earth haven’t i googled this yet?” shaking your head in dismay, you pulled out your phone, searching up what you needed.

“okay… so…chocolate chips. gah, how did i forget that? cornstarch, and salt,” you looked at the aisle you were in, pausing momentarily. after a second, you threw a pack of measuring spoons in. “obviously, you need chocolate chips for chocolate chip cookies!”

sighing, you glanced up, only to be met with the eyes of a bewildered woman. “um… sorry,” you mumbled sheepishly, forgetting you were in public.

seriously, you needed new friends. pronto.

you wheeled your cart to the checkout aisle and waited in line. looking up, you saw a masked figure on the television. you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and tilted your head, squinting to read the caption; “spider-man stops yet another robbery”.

“huh,” you murmured quietly. “spider-man.”

“mommm, isn’t he so cool?” turning your head, you saw a little boy pointing at the screen.

“what? yeah, he is,” she said, filing through her wallet.

you pulled your phone out of your back pocket, going into safari. the knit between your eyebrows hadn’t left as you tapped on the first news link, jjjnews.com.

spider-man, the masked menace.

you looked up and frowned. menace? you thought he was a hero, given the whole robbery thing. come to think of it, the name sounded familiar. “spider-man…” you hummed, testing it out once more.

whether he is in affiliation with the avengers, we do not know. the infamous spider-man, often referred to as the masked menace by his critics and opponents, raises an intriguing question: why does he feel the need to conceal his identity? what secrets is he keeping from us that drive him to hide behind a mask? could it be fear of exposure or perhaps a deeper motivational factor? but what drives him to conceal his true self from the world? what secrets lie beneath that mask, and what is he purposefully keeping hidden from those around him?

these questions continue to haunt not only the citizens of new york city, but also his closest allies. while spider-man is praised as a courageous crime-fighter, some question if there is more to his story than meets the eye. as a beloved hero or feared vigilante, the truth behind spider-man's persona remains a mystery waiting to be unraveled.

with the emergence of new heroes comes a surge in villains as well, and perhaps spider-man's presence only adds fuel to the fire. it is time for the authorities to take action against this dangerous masked figure before any more harm is done.

you pressed your lips together, and exited the app. that was enough of that, because as far as you knew, this guy sounded like a hater. this man, expecting no incentive at all, risked his life every day to keep others safe.

what more did people want, honestly?

seeing as it was your turn, you picked things up from the cart and set them down onto the checkout. pulling out your wallet, you inserted the chip in the credit card.

“that’ll be $37.50.”

“um, okay,” why was that more than you thought it’d be?

 yay, cookies, right?

somehow, you managed to make it home without crashing into someone, or someone crashing into you. you didn’t have a car yet, nor did you trust yourself with on here in nyc, so you took a taxi.

being completely honest, you were kind of excited about this. being more completely honest, you didn’t know how to bake. (or cook.)

but maybe it’d be okay. i mean, how hard was following instructions on a screen?

[phyrestartr]

Baby Crazy | Miguel x F!Reader

Miguel x Symbiote Host!Reader W/C: 1.8k

#SFW, mentions of trauma, mentions of past miscarriage, new beginnings, Miguel has baby fever, established relationship, fluff, comfort

Note: I'm trying to finish up and move on from a bunch of WIPs I have cluttering up my docs, so that's why I'm rapid-fire posting LOL. I have so many that are nearly done bro it's driving me insane!!!

--

Something changed.

This hadn't happened before, the way he was acting, the way he was feeling. Everything around him, anything that even slightly hinted at kids, triggered the frenzy in Miguel’s brain; if Peter showed up at HQ with May in his arms, Miguel had a hard time leaving the room and ignoring them because–yes he wanted to hold her, god dammit, hand her over already, Parker.

Then there were the instances with Jess on missions; any time she got whipped around, Miguel flew to her in an instant, asking if the baby was okay before asking if Jess was okay. He knew they were both fine, but–but still.

And, Christ, when you held a baby, and that stoicism lifted from your beautiful face? It killed Miguel, made him fall even more in love with you if that was even possible. 

Fuck. He was so, so doomed. 

He'd never seen you so soft before. Just that little glimpse of your maternal instincts, your quiet gentility, dyed your partner’s blood in bright hues of hope and wonder. Because you were a hardened woman, someone the universe took great pleasure in beating on time after time. It was a wonder love could still find a home inside your bruised heart. Miguel had been there to see you before it all, and held you through most of the downfall, and when he’d missed things, you filled in the gaps for him; you were his greatest confidant, ranking high in Miguel’s mind with Lyla and Gabriel. 

You'd been there since the beginning as a cool, calm, collected reporter that'd do just about anything to get the next story for the papers. Miguel found you incredibly aggravating, and he would have had much less patience for you if he hadn't wanted to get in bed with you so much. And as it turned out, your insatiable curiosities would come to bite you in the ass as much as it would foster your bond to the scientist; you would become host to the symbiote, and he would become spliced with spider genetics. 

Spiderman. Venom. 

Who else could you turn to but each other? Who else would understand what it felt like to change in a split second, to endure what it meant to change? 

You'd both done your damndest to take it in stride, and now here you were, too many years later, stuck to each other like glue and hardened off into something hurt and impenetrable that just now started to ease into something soft and malleable. Miguel found he loved it. He loved you. 

And, shit, he wanted a goddamn baby with you. 

He watched you from the couch while you loitered in the kitchen, hair a mess and oversized sleep shirt hanging lazily off one shoulder as you willed yourself to get a pot of coffee going. Rosy eyes glanced down to your stomach. How tight would that shirt get when you were nine months? And what if you had twins? Miguel had confidence in himself, he figured he had the power to put two babies in you at once. Easy. No problem. Definitely doable and–

"Miguel?" You called from the kitchen with a croaky, groggy voice.

"Baby?" He blurted, the fever in his mind overtaking his mouth and sabotaging what he tried to say. 

You stared at Miguel as heat rose to his face. He didn't call you "baby." You didn't call him "baby." You had a right to be suspicious. And because you were you, you continued to stare, and stare, and stare like it was some kind of punishment done to make Miguel squirm in his seat (which succeeded). 

"I–uh, shit, sorry. You–say again?" 

You stared at him. 

"(Name), for the love of–stop, just stop. Please," he more or less begged as he rubbed his face. Maybe he could rub away the red staining his cheeks if he tried hard enough. 

"Hm." You collected the two mugs of coffee you'd prepared during Miguel's daydream, and brought them to the couch. "You've been thinking about babies a lot." 

Miguel took the mug with a soft thanks. "Well, it's hard not to with Jess and Peter around," Miguel deflected. 

You slipped your legs across his lap and leaned against the arm of the couch. "Mh." You sipped your coffee and held it with both hands to warm your chilled fingers. "Do you want–" 

"I think so." He looked at you, eyes big with a maelstrom of nerves and excitement dancing behind them as sparks fluttered in his chest. "Do you?" 

Your head tilted just slightly as you looked him over. "Mhm. Wanna do it now?" 

Miguel's palm magnetized to your thigh and squeezed. "Well, I think we've got time."

“Okay.” Miguel smirked and started to feel up your leg, his fingers dipping into the sleep shorts you wore. But then, you took out your phone, and paid no mind to his lustful touches. “What do you want?”

Miguel blinked. “What?” 

You stared at him again. “For breakfast.” 

“Oh.” 

“Mh.” You fidgeted with your phone between your fingers for a moment. “Oh. Did you…think I was talking about–?”

“No,” Miguel interjected. “I–I just thought you–maybe just–I, well. Maybe?” He swallowed and drummed his fingers against your leg. “Have you…thought about it?” 

The question held weight; he knew you’d thought about it, knew you lamented over it, even, because you lost a child just as he had. The memories swirling in your mind never rose to the surface, never burned into the history of the outside world, but Miguel knew they were there. He knew a late-term miscarriage could never be forgotten. 

“Mmh…” You slipped your legs off his lap and made slow work of tucking them into your sleepshirt, making yourself a blob. A very cute, sleepy blob. “We’ve thought about it,” you admitted, but didn’t expand. It gave Miguel hope, though. Clearly you’d mulled it over with your other half. 

“Yeah?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You nodded. 

Your partner nodded. His hand found its way onto the bump of your knee, and his thumb rubbed curious circles against you as he exercised patience, like a puppy sitting and waiting for a treat. You watched his hand on you, quietly admiring the veins and tendons proudly pushing against his skin, and the shift of muscle dancing under his movements as he soothed you.

“Are you ready?” You wondered softly. One of your hands slipped from your mug in favour of resting over his. “For a baby.” 

Miguel chewed his cheek for a moment and watched your hand, too, like avoiding each other’s gaze would somehow quash the trepidation, make it easier to admit what you both wanted and what you both feared. But Miguel, the man who didn’t always like what he had to do but knew what he had to do, bit the bullet and found your eyes. Your beautiful, perfect eyes. Maybe your shared joy would have them, too. 

“Yeah.” He scooted into your space and caressed your warm cheek with the backs of his knuckles. “If it’s with you,” he said, and turned his hand to cup your cheek with his palm, “I’m sure.”

The still, placid look of you melted, just the slightest bit, under the incalescence of your lover’s touch. Your lovely lips twitched a fraction, but the true smile, the one Miguel craved to see day after day, glowed in the colour of your eyes. 

“Hm.” You hummed softly as you nodded, thinking and deliberating with your other half. Your gaze wandered away from Miguel and to the side slowly, to the side she whispered in the most. Your eyes fluttered, then, gaze recentering and focusing on Miguel in front of you again. 

“Well?” He tucked some hair behind your ear only for you to un-tuck that same piece. Miguel tucked it back again, and this time, you let him. “What’s the jury say?”

You took a deep breath, and nodded. “We think we’re ready,” you murmured. You caught his hand and pressed a light kiss to his knuckles, treating him like the princess you knew he was. “If it’s with you, we’re sure.” And this time, you gave him a smile. 

Miguel’s heart erupted. His boyish grin hit you with the concentrated power of the sun before he all but dove into you, crushing you with a hug, and spilling coffee everywhere. You made some sort of strange noise, something between laughter and panic, as you fumbled with the mugs and set them down wherever you could while Miguel peppered you with affection. He kissed your de-blobbed body, first your collarbone and then between your breasts. He nuzzled there before taking a deep, deep breath of your scent and sighing, content.

“You’re weird,” you said as you carded your hands through his hair while he basked in the glory of your chest. 

He pulled his face out of heaven and rested his chin between the girls as he gazed up at you, eyes bleeding adoration and excitement. “Oh, what, I’m not allowed to be excited for a baby?” 

You pinched his nose and watched him scrunch up his face and suffer. “You’re just weird.” Your mean fingers found his eyebrows and pulled them. “I’m excited, too. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time.” You let go of the hairs and smoothed them over with your thumbs. “About trying again.” 

That had Miguel’s attention. “You never mentioned it.” He tilted his head, resting his cheek against one plushy mound as he listened. 

“I didn’t know how to bring it up. I didn’t know if I should.” You dragged your nails against Miguel’s scalp, and he closed his eyes with a pleased sigh. “I’m glad you did.”

Miguel hummed warmly. “Guess we were both a little scared, huh? Hah. Venom and Spiderman, afraid to talk about the future. Who woulda thought.” He picked his head up to look you in the eyes. “But at least that’s out of the way now.” 

“Mh. Now you can stop complaining about using condoms,” You said, deadpan. 

“I–you–look, you don’t get it–”

“Hm.”

“It feels different. Better. Like a real connection–”

“Hmm.” 

“And–okay, fine, I’d rather not have a shitty layer of rubber between me and you. What’s so wrong with that?” 

“Hmmm.”

“Vieja,” Miguel pleaded. 

You smiled, soft and quiet like drifting petals. “Like I said, you won’t need to complain about them anymore. Not for a while, anyway.”

Miguel bit your tit lightly, and you flicked his forehead. “Why don’t we not-complain right now?” 

“Hm.” 

“We have time to start round one of baby-making, yeah?” His smile, dangerous and hungry, split across his features again as his hands wandered up and under your shirt teasingly. “If we knock you up now, we’ll have a kid born in…what, February? Good start to a new year.” 

You thought about it more seriously than Miguel thought you would, if the narrowing of your brows and a sudden prolonged silence told him anything. You were probably mulling over the zodiacs for that month, though, deciding if you liked them enough to go for it. Even with your serious take on things, you still loved your astrology. 

“Hm. Okay.” But you plucked your phone off the ground and turned the menu you’d pulled up to Miguel. “Food first. Baby-making after.” 

He nodded. “Deal.”

[delicatebarness]

safe & sound | chapter one

Summary: An attack on the estate causes the security to tighten and means the worst of the Rogers comes home.

Warning: Mob AU. Age Gap (Bucky - late 40s/Reader - early 20s). Dad's Best Friend. Mentions of Violence/Blood/Bones. Mentions of weapons. For Peter being 3 and a half minutes older, he is an immature man-child.

Word Count: 1322

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A/N: I wrote this and the last chapter of I Think He Knows in the same night and I am such a wreck. Oops, I dropped this.

Tags: @wintrsoldrluvr | @mostlymarvelgirl | @abaker74 | @scott-loki-barnes

It started as a seemingly ordinary day, the morning sun casting long shadows across your family’s estate as you went through your daily routine. Your newly assigned bodyguard, Sergeant James ‘Bucky’ Barnes, always stood at a discreet distance away, scanning the surroundings with his practiced vigilance. 

You adjust your bag on your shoulder, giving Bucky a small smile. You always felt a strange sense of comfort knowing Bucky was near. He was more to you than just your protector; he’s your father’s best friend since childhood and second-in-command. You’ve known and trusted him for your entire life.

The estate’s iron gates creak open as you walk towards the car waiting to take you into town. Bucky’s posture remained relaxed, but you noticed the slight tightening of his jaw. He’s always alert.

The Rogers Estate; is strategically located offering privacy and security. Situated in a sprawling countryside upscale neighborhood. Surrounded by acres of lush greenery and perfect landscaping. Shielded by towering walls and guarded gates, the head of the Rogers family believed security was paramount. Installing state-of-the-art surveillance throughout the entire grounds. There was not a single blind spot, he saw everything. 

Yet, no fortress is impervious, and danger always finds its way in.

~

Suddenly, a screech of tires shatters the silence of the estate. A black van swerves into the driveway, and masked men with guns begin to pour out. The peaceful morning instantly turned into chaos as the men began shouting orders and brandishing their weapons. 

“Get down!” Bucky barked at you, pushing you behind a marble column. 

Drawing his weapon, Bucky fired with deadly precision. Your heart pounded in your chest as you crouched low, bullets ricocheting off stone and metal. You weren’t entirely native to your parent's work, you’ve always known they had enemies, but this was the first time you felt their malevolence so close. 

Bucky moved like a predator, every shot he took neutralized a threat. He was outnumbered, but his determination and training kept him in control of the situation. As you peek out, your fear mixed with awe at his focus.

Your breath catches in your throat as you notice one of the attackers rushing towards you. Bucky’s gaze met yours for a brief moment before he was able to react. In what felt like the speed of light, he tackled the man to the ground, disarming him and delivering a punch so brutal it left the man unconscious.

In the distance, you notice the familiar SUVs arrive, the estate’s backup security. The shoot-out ended as quickly as it began, leaving an eerily silence in its wake. 

Bucky reached out to help you to your feet, his pull gently. “Are you hurt?” he asked with urgency as he examined your face. 

“No, I’m okay,” you reply, your voice trembling. “Thanks to you.” you offered him a small reassuring smile, and he returned it as he reached out, rubbing your cheek with his thumb for only a moment. 

Your father, Steve, arrived moments later, his face contoured into a controlled fury. Rushing over, he embraced you tightly before turning to Bucky.

“Who were they?” he demanded, his eyes turned a deeper shade of blue with his anger.

“They looked like Rumlow’s,” Bucky replied, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. “It seemed like a random hit. But,” his voice trailed as he took another glance at you. “We need to tighten security all the same, they knew when to strike.” 

Your father nods, his expression hardening the more the gears in his head turn. “I’ll speak to Stark,” he stated firmly, referring to Tony Stark, a longtime ally of the Rogers family and exceptional in mechanics and technology. 

As your father began making calls to arrange meetings, you stood by reaming close to Bucky. His eyes, usually sharp and focused, softened as he looked down at you. He placed a hand on the small of your back, ushering you towards the safety of the house. 

Inside, the atmosphere was tense but yet, controlled. Bucky remained close by your side, guiding you to a secluded area of the house, away from the commotion your father brought back in with him behind you. 

Before you can fully process the events that happened moments ago, the door bursts open with a thud, and Natasha, your mother, storms in. Her eyes were wide with fear and desperation, a look you had never seen your mother sport.

“Are you alright?” she demanded your answer, trembling with emotion as she rushed toward you. Her hands reach out to cup your cheeks, moving your head and twisting your body to assess any signs of injury. Her controlled demeanor which she usually wears, shattered.

You met her gaze, she searched for reassurance in your eyes. “I’m okay, Mom,” you tried to reassure her, your voice threatening to discredit you. “Uncle Buck kept me safe,” you shot her a small smile. 

Grasping you into an embrace, she turned to Bucky, “Thank you,” she whispered, sincerity laced in her tone. 

Bucky nods, “I won’t let anything happen to her,” he vows to one of your parents, for the second time. 

~

As the days passed, you found yourself seeking peace again in the tranquil embrace of the garden. The vibrant blooms and gentle rustle of leaves provided a calm sanctuary for your mind. 

You were suddenly startled by the sound of approaching footsteps. Glancing up, you saw Peter, your twin brother, emerging from the shadows. His presence casts a shadow over the serenity of the garden. 

His gaze was cold and calculating, “What are you doing here?” his voice dripped with contempt as he approached. 

He was, ever the hostile older, by 3 and a half minutes, brother and you could only assume that his mood had only worsened since your parents cut his business trip short. Despite sharing the same bloodline, your paths diverged sharply. 

“Reading,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady as you gestured to the book you were holding.

Peter scoffed. “Of course,” he muttered, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed the garden. “Always so sensitive, one little scare and you seek refuge in pretty flowers.” 

Your grip on your book tightened, and the sting of his words cut deep, “Just leave me alone.”

A cruel smile tugged at the corners of Peter’s lip, his eyes gleamed with malice. “Make me,” he taunted, snatching the book out of your hands. You watched with frustration as his actions were fuelled by his desire to provoke and intimidate. 

“Give it back, Pete,” you demanded, rising to your feet.

Peter laughed, a harsh, mocking sound that echoed through the garden. “What’s the matter, little sister?” he continued his taunts, flipping through the pages. “Can’t handle a little fun?”

Your fists clenched, the urge to lash out nearly overwhelming. But, the years of conditioning yourself to keep emotions in check and not be like him, held you back. “Just give it back,” you repeated, your voice almost breaking.

His grin only widened, he thrived in your discomfort. “Or what?” he challenged, “What are you going to do about it?”

Before you could respond, a voice cut through the tension, sending both you and Peter snapping your heads around in surprise. 

“What’s going on here?” Bucky stood at the edge of the garden, his expression was a mix of concern and disapproval as his gaze flickered between you and Peter. “Peter, your dad wants a word with you,” 

Hesitating for a moment, Peter narrowed his eyes in defiance. But, he ultimately tossed the book aside with a dismissive flick of the wrist, indifference spread across his features. As he disappeared toward the house, you let out a shaky breath. The tension drained from your shoulders as you kneed down, reaching for your book.

In your haze, you never noticed that Bucky had also knelt. For a moment, his hand grazed over yours and your gazes met.

---

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[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.

[peterparkerluvr]

2+2 | Peter Parker

(gif from @sacharinee)

mature content! 18+

pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: Studying with Peter goes exactly right.

content warnings: steamy make out, swearing, sexual content, suggestive dialogue, Adam Sandler.

word count: 1620+

A/N: Hi! This is my first EVER smut, I hope you like it<3

It wasn’t my idea to study for Algebra, it never was. If I had a choice I would abolish Algebra from every school curriculum and burn every math textbook on the Earth, but of course that wasn’t possible.

“Ok, now that we have the x-intercept, we can just insert the y value from the center and finish the equation!” 

“I have no clue what you just said,” Peter’s exasperated sighs fill my ears as I complain about his teaching, “I am just so sorry, I genuinely cannot do math.”

“Yes you can, you’re very smart and very capable and not everyone can add, so it is a-okay!” Sarcasm laces his tone, a humorous glint twinkling in his eye as he sends a cheeky grin my way.

“Ha. I know how to add, 2+2 is equal to 4!” He couldn’t hold in a laugh then, dissolving my prior confidence.

“On that note, let’s take a break!” Peter closed his open notes and pushed the notebooks to his side, stretching from his position.

As he lifts his arms above his head, the edge of his Midtown sweatshirt lifts upwards, exposing his skin and giving me a peek of the definition below. Lean muscle stretches across his abdomen, tensing with every move. His impressive v-line cutting into his torso, deep enough to lap water from-

“Uh, you okay?” his awkward chuckles interrupt my ogling,

“Yeah, yeah.” Spluttering out an excuse, I draw my eyes away from his very rock-hard abdominals and decide to intently stare at the thread hanging from his comforter.

“Let’s watch a movie or something?” He couldn’t hide his unmistakable blush as it crept from the round of his cheeks and flushed towards his chest, oh how I wish I could graze my fingertips across the pink tint on his upper body and-

“Good idea! What are you thinking?” I mention, focusing on his words and pretending to not be soaking wet for my best friend, I quickly dismiss the thoughts plaguing my mind.

“I feel like watching a comedy, take my mind off all the calculations,” He said while scrolling for the perfect piece of entertainment, 

“Besides, anything will be better than those stupid graphing videos she forces down our throats.” 

His soft brown eyes catch mine as they crinkle at the sides, his soft pink lips just begging to touch mine. Leaving me wondering just what other part of him wants to be touched, what other soft, pink things I can-

“Ahem, how about ‘Grownups’? I need a little Adam Sandler in my life right now.” I suggested, I need to rein in my thoughts and I need to do it ASAP.

“Perfect, just what I was thinking. Good job, you’ve found something you’re good at, movie suggestions!” Peter nudged me with his elbow as I moved to climb beside him in his bed.

His very small twin bed where just sitting side by side our thighs were molded together and I could hear his strong, steady heartbeat and his deep breathing.

This boy is going to be the death of me.

He pushes his pillows in an upright position behind us and moves an arm behind my shoulders to create a more comfortable position. His nimble fingers gently squeeze my shoulder as he looks down to catch my eye in an innocent smile.

He has to know what he’s doing to me.

He leans forward to press play on his laptop in front of us, slipping his hold from my shoulder to my waist, slightly pressing his palm into my torso. He shifts back into his former place, bucking his hips upward to settle into the bed.

Many expletives are running through my mind right now.

As the movie begins, all I can focus on are the curls of his hair resting against his forehead. The creamy red tint of his lips run through my mind as I imagine every place on my body I want his mouth to touch. I thought of his even breaths becoming aroused grunts and breathy moans, I imagined his soft voice becoming thick with pleasure and whimpering begs falling past his lips. 

The taut string wound between my thighs pulled, threatening to snap as I let my mind run wild. I mindlessly rocked into the bed, yearning for friction to ease my discomfort. 

Peter’s obnoxious laugh startled me out of my fantasy,

“I forgot how much I love this movie!” His pink lips pulled in a grin exposing his straight teeth, a sliver of his tongue resting between.

“Peter.” My resolve was weakening and I couldn’t resist the need to hear his name pass through my mouth.

“A-Are you okay, Y/N?” His gaze passes from my lips to my eyes, his voice becoming low and small.

“Can I just try something really fast?” My heartbeat quickened its pace as I struggled to gain the confidence to make a move.

His tiny nod my confirmation, I turned to face him and pulled my legs underneath me. Gulping down my fear and apprehension, I focus on the perfect boy sitting in front of me. His deep woodsy eyes boring into mine, his face twisted into one of confusion and a bit of excitement.

I move my fingertips to graze the crook of his neck, dipping into his collarbones and watching a soft blush erupt where my finger trails. I press my hands into his shoulders and lower my head to the crook of his neck. I hear his breathing increase as I move my tongue across the velvety expanse of his collarbone.

Peter releases another breath and latches a hand onto my lower back, slightly digging the tips of his fingers into the skin. I lean closer into him, scooting closer and moving my hand to his slender thigh. My tongue sucks on the smooth skin, warranting more quiet groans from Peter.

His hands push into my back, gripping my sides, faintly pulling my body into his. I push off of his shoulders and lift myself to straddle his legs, settling with our limbs tangled together, his thigh resting between mine. I move from his neck to pepper kisses along his jaw, my hips gently grinding on his thigh, easing the desperation in my clothed heat.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Peter grips my waist and guides my movement, moving a hand to my chin, connecting our lips. His needy tongue invades my mouth, moving his hand to the side of my head, lacing his fingers in my hair. His teeth nip at my lower lip as he continues grinding my cunt along his thigh. 

“Peter,” his name slips from my tongue in whimpers as he continues to let me use his thigh for pleasure. His wet kisses trail down my neck to my collarbone, he kisses into the swell of my breast, sucking gently.

He gently lifts me up and places me directly on his lap, through my position I can feel his erection pressing into my clit through my jeans, applying needed relief to the ache and leading me closer to my peak. His movements become more urgent as he bucks his hips into me, his hardness rubbing against the wetness between my legs.

“You feel so good Y/N, fuck,” His deep beathing becoming throaty grunts, he ruts into my sex as he furthers towards an orgasm. His kisses become urgent as he pushes his fingers into my sides, moving his mouth back to my chest forming hickies and biting into the skin leaving purple bruises on my body.

“Please, Peter,” My head falls to his shoulder, sucking gently on his exposed skin, my nails scratching into his upper back.

“Yeah baby?” His lips move to my jaw as he grips my chin to move my eyes to his, my pupils blown from the pleasure, husky pants leaving my open mouth.

“I’m gonna cum, Peter, please,” His hot mouth connects to mine, connecting in a feverish kiss. Hot and needy, his tongue strokes mine, his hands wrapping around my neck, his fingers pulling me even closer.

“fuck, cum for me baby,” His hand roughly pushes my cunt into his lap, attacking my neck with his tongue. His name drops from my tongue in a chant as I near my orgasm. My moans increase in volume and peak in a whine, my head rolls backwards as my vision blurs. My limbs tense as I ride out my high, moaning Peter’s name, my sex pulsing as I climax.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Y/N you’re so good baby,” Harshly digging his fingertips into my sides, Peter pushes his head onto my chest as he cums. His hips rut upward into me, his lips sucking on my chest in his pleasure; biting harshly at the exposed skin, his movement slows as he rests on my collarbones.

Our deep breaths mix as we come down from our high. My fingers move to his head, lacing my fingers in his soft brown curls, slightly wet from sweat. Using my chin, I lift his head, meeting large pupils and tinted cheeks. I kiss from his forehead to each side of his face, landing in a sweet kiss on his lips, licking at his bottom lip and chewing at the skin.

“Y/N,” His eyes fill with admiration as he licks the taste of my tongue off of his lips and gives a few kisses to my chest moving up to my jaw, 

“God, you’re so beautiful.” His thumbs trace circles into my waist as he looks up at me.

I push lightly against his chest, turning away from him,

“Wait, have we gotten to the part at the water park yet?” My attention diverting to the laptop screen, awaiting the appearance of Steve Buschemi.

[sarahsmi13s]

🎃vinny's 2023 whumptober event🎃

hi my darlings!! welcome to whumptober! this entire event is going to be 18+ so minors back off. i'm serious. this event contains heavy topics and i encourage you to read with discretion. if you read the warnings and decide that you can not handle the content, you will not hurt my feelings if you choose to skip it. protect your own peace. if you read something and find a topic i missed please please please reach out to me and let me know. i want to make sure people are properly prepared and know what they are reading!

if you want to be tagged and haven't filled out the form you can do so here -> vinny's whumptober taglist

day 1: bloody knuckles

-> Bloodstained Sandbags - eddie diaz x reader

day 2: overworked / insomnia / exhaustion

-> Off the Clock – charlie young x reader

day 3: overstimulation

-> I Just Need Quiet – jake seresin x sarah grant

day 4: hiding an injury / betrayal / lying

-> Hidden Gems – rhett abbott x reader

day 5: hostage / kidnapping / held at gunpoint

-> This Is How It Feels – beau simpson x daughter!reader

day 6: forced to hurt someone

-> Just a Little Guidance – tim bradford x reader

day 7: disowned by family

-> The Family I Chose - natasha trace x reader

day 8: panic attacks

-> Last in the Flock – bradley bradshaw x duckie bradshaw (twin sister!reader)

day 9: scar reveal

-> When Sharks Attack – evan buckley x reader

day 10: bullied

-> Family Legacy – rhett abbott x sister!reader

day 11: fainting / adrenaline

-> Highs and Lows – charlie young x reader

day 12: character death

-> A Sibling’s Promise - peter parker x sister!reader

day 13: grief

-> Don’t Leave Your Wingman – pete mitchell x kazansky!reader

day 14: bleeding through the bandage / field medicine

-> Rookie Mistake – tim bradford x rookie!reader

day 15: experimentation

-> Pin Cushion – albert wesker x reader

day 16: amputation / hospital

-> tbd – tim bradford x reader

day 17: heat stroke / “you look a little pale”

-> Hazed Gaze – walt finnegan x reader

day 18: fever / vomiting / warm soup

-> Mama's Don't Get Sick Days – mickey garcia x reader

day 19: left behind / “why wasn’t i enough”

-> Past Pursuits – bob floyd x y/n rogers (lt. rogers)

day 20: dehumanization

-> tbd – walt finnegan x reader

day 21: blood loss / shock / near death experience

->  tbd – bradley bradshaw

day 22: whipping / punishment / stress position

-> tbd – jake seresin x ncis!reader

day 23: begging / forced to watch

-> Chasing Ghosts – eddie diaz x reader

day 24: failed escape / hunted down / too exhausted to keep running

-> tbd – bucky barnes x reader

day 25: stalked

-> Parasocial – mickey garcia x youtuber!reader

day 26: non-consensual touching

-> tbd – rhett abbott x reader

day 27: forgotten / locked away / immortal

-> tbd – pete mitchell x reader

day 28: whumpee hair pulling / oxygen deprivation / sweating

-> tbd – bob floyd x reader

day 29: bargaining

-> Don’t Take the Girl – tom kazansky x reader

day 30: coma

-> tbd – nick bradshaw x reader

day 31: crying

-> tbd – tim bradford x reader

[maevesheart]

you… perv?

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ she-devil (01)

PETER PARKER X FEM!READER

note: georgie griswold is reader’s twin brother :) both are 17 and juniors at midtown!!

summary: harry’s important “news” pisses you off, so you go straight to the source yourself. except when he doesn’t give you answers, you just sort of… slap it out of him.

WC: 1.8k

TW: violence (a slap), swearing

even as a child, you had been kept out of the public eye.

your last name being one of the most recognized in the world, your father tried his hardest to prevent you and your brother from a childhood of cameras and zero privacy.

that only worked for so long, and eventually the two of you were placed in the best private school your father could find, midtown high.

when the two of you transferred your freshman year, all eyes were on you. It didn’t matter how long the both of you had been there, immediately you two became the most popular two in all of the school.

money, grades, status, and beauty? every girl wanted to be you and every guy wanted to date you. it was no secret either.

so when you woke up on monday morning, prepared for another perfect day in your perfect life, the last thing you expected was to get suspended that same afternoon.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

“miss griswold?” a quiet voice squeaked from your bedroom’s door.

you groaned in response, pushing the pillow over your ear in hopes to drown out the noise.

“it’s monday, miss. school starts in an hour.” the voice became closer, and before you knew it, cold hands were on the exposed portion of your arm.

you let out a hiss and turned to see the newest maid, daliah, looking at you with wide eyes.

“yes, i know. now please go away. ugh!”

she nodded quickly and then rushed to the door, probably going to cry or something. you didn’t really care either way.

sitting up in your king sized bed, you stretched and took off the eye mask that sat on your forehead.

sighing, your feet touched the carpeted floors and you padded into the cool bathroom.

after a twenty minute and incredibly organized skincare routine, you made your way back into your extremely large bedroom, and waltzed into the walk in closet.

the walls were lined with expensive and beautiful clothing, but of course, since you went to the most boring and bland school in existence, you were forced to wear a fugly yellow and blue uniform.

you quickly put your hair up in a sleek ponytail, and had jaela, your makeup artist, do a simple makeup look

slipping your feet into your black tom ford pumps, and grabbing your celine backpack from the floor, you made your way out of the closet, and then out of your bedroom, into the tall and long marble hall that held two rooms; yours and your brothers.

you walked down the extensive hall to the curved matching marble staircase, and trailed your perfectly polished black nails on the gold railing as you made your way down.

sara, your maid since you were a child, was waiting at the bottom, and you greeted her with a smile.

“good morning, miss.”

“morning, sara. where’s dad?”

“he’s already at work, but breakfast is prepared.” she gave you a ‘sorry’ look, but you were used to your father never showing. ever since your mother passed he never seemed to make an effort with your brother or you.

taking a seat across from georgie, you watched as he smiled down to his phone.

“texting gwen?” you smiled, happy that your best friend and twin were finally together.

“no. betty, actually.” he awkwardly looked up.

your eyebrows narrowed, and the corners of your mouth went downwards.

“betty brant?” you asked accusingly, causing georgie to give you a look.

“please, g, spare me the jokes,” you laughed, expecting him to confess he was kidding.

“no. y/n/n, i’m seeing betty.”

“this is ruining my morning. stop talking.” you ordered, pushing away from the table and rushing to the elevator. georgie followed after you.

though he stood at 6’3, and had much longer legs, he could never match your pace when you were angry.

“y/n, cmon. don’t be a bitch.”

“georgie! i just really don’t want to speak about this.” you said, very sternly. he winced and tucked his arms into the pockets of his khakis, standing awkwardly next to you.

“let’s forget this happened, yeah? i’ll pretend betty brant’s name never left your mouth, and we will be the perfect twins that we always are.” you smiled your sickly sweet smile at him, and he rolled his eyes before agreeing.

“fine. whatever.”

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

the day passed as slow as it possibly could. that was until lunch, of course, and then it seemed your life couldn’t get any worse.

you sat down with gwen, liz, and harry, like you always did, and the four of you giggled loudly and gossiped like no one could hear.

the four of you made up the school’s most popular and desirable friend group. some called you “the elites”, and others just referred to you guys as spoiled assholes.

liz was the brains, harry was the gossip, you were the face, and gwen was the glue. she kept you all from falling apart.

obviously, when there was any friend group filled with four, gossip obsessed, narcissistic, beautiful teenagers, there was sure to be drama. gwen made sure that drama never let your friendships dwindle.

people would still be jealous, even if you mentioned their names or not.

your idiot brother sat with brad and flash, even though you often voiced your disgust for the both of them.

brad being your first — and only — boyfriend, decided to dump you the summer before your junior year.

the two of you avoided each other all year, and you had zero intent of speaking to him as the year came to a close.

you watched georgie smile down at his phone as it lit up with messages, and hoped deep down that he was joking. even though your mind screamed that he wasn’t.

harry’s loud “psssst!” broke you out of your absorbing thoughts, and you snapped your head to his direction.

“parker’s been spreading some good goss.”

gwen and liz both leaned in, also wanting to hear what your groups notorious big mouth had to say.

“wait,” all heads turned to you.

“who is peter parker?”

liz giggled and harry rolled his eyes. “the weird nerd who was obsessed with liz last year!” harry whisper-yelled, obviously wanting to tell his story.

“alright, go on,” you urged.

“supposedly, parker told ned leeds that he took your virginity last weekend at flash’s party…” harry shyly smiled, waiting for your response.

instead of answering with words, liz, gwen, and harry watched as your lips turned down to a scowl and your eyes narrowed into slits.

“i’m gonna cut off his dick!” you exclaimed, jumping up from your seat and rushing to the back of the cafeteria, where parker sat with his loner friends.

once harry had told you who parker was, you could picture him perfectly in your head.

brown curls, deep brown eyes, and a jawline that could cut diamonds. he was sort of cute….. no! y/n stop it! you scolded yourself.

this boy was spreading lies about you and your most special thing. how dare he? who did he think he was?

marching straight up to the boy who sat laughing with his two nerd friends, you stopped short in front of him, and crossed your arms.

you heard gwen suck in a breath behind you, and harry skidded to a stop on your left.

“parker…” he nodded, as peter’s head shot up.

ned grinned, never even imagining that the elites would walk up to him.

peter looked at the four of you in suspicion. was this about liz? he thought that ended months ago.

but once he saw your face, he knew this wasn’t about liz.

you stared at him with slits for eyes. he thought yoy looked like a lion staring at it’s prey.

you were beautiful, yet terrifying.

“h-hey,” he stuttered, watching gwen awkwardly rub her arm, and harry nudge liz’s side.

“get. up.” you seethed, still burning holes into peter’s eyes.

if looks could kill, peter would be six feet under.

he looked back at mj, who stared blankly at you, and ned, who was bursting at the seams with excitement.

“i said, get the fuck up!”

his eyes widened again, and he abruptly stood up, smoothing down his wrinkled uniform.

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you seethed.

“i- what?” he murmured, shaking his head.

liz turned around and tried not to watch, she couldn’t help but feel bad for the boy.

gwen stood right behind you, ready to pull you away in case it got too intense.

harry, on the other hand, watched with wide eyes, acting as if this was a movie that he got early access to.

“don’t play dumb with me. and also, don’t be a douche. i cant believe your nerve!”

he shook his head again, trying to understand what you were so pissed off about.

“i’m confused,” he breathed out, awkwardly laughing, which just set you off more.

your shoulders went up and down as you took in a deep breath.

after around ten seconds of no one speaking, you smiled at peter.

not a genuine smile, though. a smile that said, “you really expect me to believe your bullshit?”

peter smiled back. and you couldn’t stand that.

usually you weren’t one to resort to violence, but when a nobody is telling half the school that he took your virginity, when he didn’t, you don’t know what else to turn to.

you turned around, as if you were leaving, before spinning back around on the balls of your feet and leaving a huge red mark on the side of peter’s cheek.

his head turned with the impact, and gwen let out a shriek behind you.

“what?” liz questioned, turning around to see your hand raised in the air, and peter holding his cheek while his eyes lit with fire.

harry sucked in a breath, watching your eyes widen, and peter’s shoulder rise and fall with his angry breaths.

ned’s mouth hung open, and mj’s eyebrows hit her hairline.

the entire cafeteria watched. the golden girl? slapping someone? it was unbelievable.

no matter how rude or spoiled you acted, nobody had ever seen you be violent.

not even the occasional into-the-locker-shove.

georgie rushed over and pushed harry out of the way. he placed a hand on your shoulder, and tried to lead you away.

you stood frozen, and breathed out the first words spoken since the slap.

“oh my go-“

“griswold! parker! my office, NOW!” principal morita bellowed from across the cafeteria.

you looked at him, and then your still raised arm, and tucked it into your side, your head falling into your chest from embarrassment.

your father would not be happy.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷