#spidermanfanfiction

[crashing-a-jeep]

Chapter 01: Midtown High School

Summary: The first chapter of my full Peter Parker fanfiction, The World Around Us, also on Wattpad. Dylan West was the quiet girl in the corner. Headphones were shoved in her ears and dreams occupied her mind. Dreams to escape the reality that was High School and dreams that she could change the world. But what she didn't know was that her locker neighbor, Peter Parker, had the same dreams. The only difference was that Peter's dreams were becoming a reality, but not in the way he expected.

Warnings: some curse words

Word Count: 4809

I ran out into the kitchen to see my older brother spreading jam onto his toast. Noah turned to look at me, a smug smile painted on his face.

"What, my dear little sister?" He responded lightly and took a bite out of his toast.

I stalked up to him and tore the toast out of his hand. "You know exactly what you did, dumbass." I took a bite out of the toast and crunched on it obnoxiously. "How many times do I have to tell you that when I'm at school, do not do the laundry? I've said it a million times because you always do it wrong. My whites are now all pink because you left one of your damn red socks in the pile. Do you know how much I hate pink?"

He nodded and smirked, popping another piece of bread into the toaster. "Now you know! Don't watch your stupid shows around me while my friends are over."

"Your friends are all idiots who spend most of their days playing call of duty in their parent's basements with a Costco-sized bag of Doritos!" I shoved the rest of my bother's toast in my mouth."The only one that I actually enjoy spending time with is Nathan Leeds! So yes, I'm going to watch my shows on the only TV in our damn apartment that has cable. That doesn't mean you go and make my favorite sweatshirt pink!"

Noah laughed and I immediately ran to look at myself in the bathroom mirror. I looked like I normally did in the mornings, my hair a matted mess and a giant t-shirt on with pajama shorts. Today I had extra crumbs around my face from the toast, but besides that, I wore my normal morning clothes. I ran back into the kitchen and saw Noah laughing his ass off. I continued to look around, still confused. "What?" I finally asked. He looked at me again and calmed himself.

"That is very true, what you said about my friends. I even have a picture of Mark-" Noah broke off laughing again, then took a deep breath. "Of Mark playing call of duty and eating a fun-sized bag of Doritos."

I rolled my eyes, a smile making its way to my face. I chuckled, "Well that's why I said it." Noah's toast popped out of the toaster and he began to spread jam on it again.

"Okay, well now you have about ten minutes to make it to the subway. You better hurry." My eyes widened and I ran into my room throwing on the first things I could find, a large Dunder Mifflin Paper Co. t-shirt, and a pair of skinny jeans. I ran into the bathroom to wash my face, I had to do this every day. Being an acne-prone teenager sucks. Then I put on barely any makeup, threw my hair up into a bun, grabbed my house keys, and made my way to the door where my backpack laid. "Don't forget your card." I hear my brother say as I head out the door.

"Right," I whispered and quickly made my way back to my room where my subway pass sat on my desk.

"Love you, sis," Noah called.

"Love you too," I yell back and make my way to the station, barely catching the last subway train to Midtown High School.

* * *

Walking through a hall of judgmental teenagers was hard enough on a normal day. Running through a hall of judgmental teenagers with an oversized shirt that looked almost like a dress and sported a logo of a TV show that ended a while ago, along with barely any makeup and ratty hair, made it much worse. The bell had already rung and people were making their way to the first period, forcing me to have to fight to get to my locker.

I pushed past the crowd of people, not caring enough to say sorry like I usually did because they never said "it's okay" or "sorry" back. I shoved past a group of cheerleaders who looked at me as if I had just chipped one of their perfectly manicured nails. I didn't believe in stereotypes when I started high school and treated the cheerleaders with respect like I did with any other person. They didn't treat me the same way, and being in the marching band as well as the academic decathlon team did not help the way they decided to act towards me. I ended up treating them how they treated me, rudely.

When I finally got to my locker, I saw Peter Parker struggling to get his locker open, looking very rushed as well. "Peter!" The brown-haired boy glanced at me before returning to jiggling his lock. Peter was a quiet boy. Usually, I'd see him on the outskirts of things with his best friend Ned Leeds, Nathan Leeds's younger brother. Peter was considered very smart in many ways, he was exceptional in all of his subjects and the top of our class, though he tried not to draw much attention to himself. Peter was in marching band with Ned and me, which was how I first met him. He was also on the Academic Decathlon team. When High School began we ended up having lockers next to each other. Even though we did a lot of the same extra circulars,  we weren't very close. Our relationship consisted of a mutual hello, and/or small talk to our first period, which we had together.

"Hey Dylan," he forced open his locker and took out an English book as I opened my locker with ease. "I like your shirt." Peter smiled and looked me up and down, taking in my horrid appearance, but he wasn't looking any better. His hair was in every direction, bags resided under his eyes, and his shirt had something spilled on it. I pulled out my English book and nodded for us to walk to class. "Thank you. I see you've had a bad morning as well."

Peter scratched his neck and chuckled. "Yeah, I guess so. My Uncle Ben was mad at me for forgetting to do my homework, and I forgot to set my alarm."

"Peter Parker forgot to do his homework?" I gasped dramatically and Peter rolled his eyes as I returned to our previous conversation. "I woke up on time, but," I yawned, "but Noah did my laundry and made all my white clothing pink, on purpose. So I got mad at him and wasted a ton of time to get ready, ultimately making myself late."

Peter jolted, holding in a laugh, then concealed it with a cough and looked back to me. "Uh, yeah, that sucks. I'm sorry."

I rolled my eyes then laughed a little myself. "It does sound a little ridiculous, doesn't it? Well, be happy you don't have an older brother." I smiled and stopped him in front of our English classroom. "Let me fix your hair, you have a horrible bedhead, Pete." I reached up, due to him being almost half a foot taller, and tried to pat his curly hair down. My hairdressing skills worked partially, but some strands were still sticking up a little on the sides.

"We are such wrecks." He said, awkwardly taking a step back. I laughed just as the second bell rang, signaling that we needed to get to class. Peter opened the door and stood back, holding it for me. He scratched the back of his neck, "Uh-ladies first."

"Oh, thanks." I moved past him and stepped into the classroom, walking towards my seat. I sat in the back row and Peter sat one desk ahead of me.

Our teacher stopped his lesson, which had begun only a second before, watched us take our seats. "Notes?" I and Peter made eye contact.

"Uh, no, Mr. Johns," Peter answered hesitantly.

Mr. Johns sighed, "You two are lucky you've never been late before. Next time you are, it's detention." We both nodded and placed our notebooks and textbooks on our desks. Our teacher stood up and slammed a book on the table that sat at in front of the two first front row desks. "Poetry." Mr. Johns stated simply.

He began to write the definition on the white board, followed by a numerical list. While he was turned around I shoved a headphone into my right ear and took out a notebook, beginning to write down poetry as the heading. While Mr. Johns continued to talk about the definition, I doodled. The word poetry became bubble lettered and blown up to look like a balloon, while the lyrics from my favorite songs surrounded it. "Dylan?"

"Hm?" I looked up from my notebook to see Mr. Johns staring at me expectantly and I jerked the headphone out of my ear. My cheeks heated up and I gulped, trying to remain calm as the other students snickered and as Peter turned around to look at me."I'm sorry, could you please repeat the question?" My voice came out shaky, much to my dislike.

"Distracted by your music again, Dylan?" He asked with a smile. I nodded sheepishly and sunk into my chair. "Don't worry, that's not the question." I could feel everyone's eyes on me, especially Peter's. "The question was, what is poetry in your own words?"

"Um..." I looked down at my notebook at the lyrics of different songs and made eye contact with my teacher again. Song lyrics are poetry, right? I hoped so. "Poetry-uh-can create a feeling and gives us, humans, emotions from words. Poetry is written to tell a story through metaphors and similes that everyone can relate to in their own way." I smiled, happy with the response that I randomly plucked out of my brain, and muttered, "Yeah, okay, that's good enough." Peter was still turned around and gave me a confused look.

"How did you do that?" He mouthed and I shrugged and shook my head in response.

My teacher chuckled. "Pretty good, West. Where'd get that answer?" I shrugged again and he turned around to write what I said on the board.

"You're not going to confiscate her phone and headphones?" Flash Thompson pestered and our teacher turned around with his eyebrows raised.

"No. I'm not."

"You are just going to let her keep listening to music in the middle class?" His annoying voice continued, "She already sits in the back of the class and was late. Plus, she's being tutored by Parker! And you're not going to take her phone?"

My hands curled into fists as I sat up straighter, trying to contain my anger. "I'm not being tutored and my grades are fine," I piped up and then mumbled under my breath, "dumbass."

Mr. Johns chuckled and Flash continued to look at him, confused. "Someday you're going to get bitch slapped and I'm not going to do a thing to stop it. Now get out of my class."

"But-"

"Uh-" The teacher pretended to zip up his lips and throw the key away, and pointed at the door. Flash got up and gathered his stuff before quickly exiting the room. "Now, your assignment is to write a poem on whatever the hell you want, but it has to be somewhat decent otherwise you'll embarrass yourself when reading it to the class Monday. Ready, set, go. And people on the Decathlon team, practices are on Monday during second lunch or the underclassmen's study hall."

* * *

"So you have to write a poem?" Natalie asked while we wrote down notes on chemical reactions. I nodded. "What are you going to write it on?" Me and Natalie basically grew up together. After meeting in kindergarten, we became inseparable. Neither of us was popular, we sat at our own table at lunch and studied alone as well. Sure, we knew people but they weren't very close to us. Michelle was the exception. But Natalie had been there for me since the beginning, and nothing has changed that.

I shrugged and stopped writing. "I really don't know. I'm still mentally laughing at the fact that Mr. Johns kicked Flash out of the class."

"Serves him right, I don't know how his ego fits into that small body, I mean it's like," she pinched her fingers together, "this big."

I giggled, "No, that's the size of his dick." We shared a mutual dislike for dear Eugene since we met him in seventh grade. He was always second to the top of our class, right behind Peter. Eugene earned his nickname from how fast he would answer questions in class. Basically, his hand shot up in a flash, and so one of the teachers called him that, and then everyone started to use the nickname. He liked to pick on kids, usually his fellow freshmen, and was a total asshole most days. Eugene also believed he ruled the school and contains an ego as large as Mount Everest in the frame of a five-foot-eight-inch body.

The bell rang and Natalie and I packed up our stuff. "Well, there's no denying that." She laughed. We walked out into the mob of teenagers and continued to shuffle our way to the cafeteria. I put one earbud in again. "Dylan, do you need music to breathe?" I rolled my eyes at her.

"Nat, why the hell do you think I chose to be in band if I don't need music to be alive?"

Natalie looked at me again and then sighed, "Here we go again."

"Music can be understood in any language, at any time, in any place. I could go up to anyone, play them a song from my phone, and they could understand how I feel. It also can alter your mood in a matter of minutes." I ranted as we made our way to the multi-purpose room, "In one piece, you could go from happy to angry to sad to scared multiple times because that's how the music makes you feel. Isn't that amazing? That hearing a string of notes with different pitches and different dynamics can make you feel something totally different than what you were feeling a second before?"

Natalie smiled, "Everyone really does need music to breathe... blah blah blah. Yes I know Dyl, we've been over this a couple of thousand times."

I saw someone appear in the corner of my eye, "More like a couple million," Michelle said.

"Your back!" I screamed. Michelle jumped at the loud sound of my voice and I tackled her with a hug in the middle of one of the two doorways into the cafeteria.

Michelle wasn't one for personal contact and patted me somewhat awkwardly on the back.  "Dylan calm down it's not like I died and came back. I've only been gone like, two weeks."

I pulled away, "Michelle, you'd be surprised how uneventful it's been. I don't have any of your drawings, sarcastic jokes, and hilarious comments to make my boring days less boring."

Natalie moved in for a hug now, and again Michelle awkwardly patted her on the back. "Yeah, we are bored. Nothing goes on here."

"Move out of the way, assholes!" Flash yelled from his lunch table. Michelle broke the hug and flipped him off. I grabbed my friends by their sleeves and pulled them to a lunch table in the very back of the cafeteria. Michelle looked at my appearance and her eyebrows creased.

"Did you get hit by a bus?" She asked and I sighed.

"Long story."

"So," Natalie began, "how was Hawaii? I still can't believe your cousins live there." They both pulled out brown paper bags that contained food.

"Oh, I need to get lunch today!" I started to walk away then quickly turned around and went back. "Don't start telling Nat about Hawaii without me." I pointed at both of them then walked to get my food.

I made my way to the mess of a lunch line, it was a bunch of kids in the middle of the cafeteria with no organization to the line at all. The reason is that the kids who were more popular or more intimidating always cut in the line in order to get their food first. That day I saw the usual, popular and rich Harry Osborn with his girlfriend Elizabeth Mercado cut in front of a kid who could not protest. Believe it or not Natalie and I use to be friends with him before High School. He got past his awkward stage and pretended to actually like his dad, and his dad rewarded him for it. When I knew him he was a brace-faced nerd who cared and loved his friends, and would never have hurt anyone. Natalie was the most hurt when Harry ditched us and still had to see him from time to time when their dad's met for work.

A small tap on my shoulder jerked me out of my thoughts. I turned around to see Ned Leeds. "Oh, hey Ned. What's up?"

Ned shrugged, "The ceiling," then he paused and sighed. "You have no idea how much I hate myself for saying that."

I chuckled, "Don't worry, I've said it too. Have you gotten your clarinet fixed yet? Mr. Heimlich didn't seem very happy when you dropped it." I met Ned the same way I met Peter, a week before school started at marching band camp. The band doesn't stay the night or anything but for eight hours for seven days the freshman learn how to march and the sophomores, juniors, and seniors get a refresher course. Peter was much shyer than Ned, so I got to know him a little more than I did Peter. Eventually, I found out that he was Nathan Leeds's little brother.

Ned pulled out his wallet and looked through it. "Yeah, he wasn't. I got it fixed though, my mom was pretty mad about it. She said that it was a lot of extra money down the drain." He pulled out a five-dollar bill and put the wallet back in his pocket.

I mimicked him and pulled three dollars from my pants pocket, which was pretty surprising considering that I didn't remember putting any money there. I must have put it there last time I got food, I thought. "If I did that I would probably have to play my instrument broken until I had enough money to fix it. Noah would be so mad."

We finally made it to the front of the 'line' and gave the lunch lady our money. "Peter said you had a bad morning. Bro got you down?" Ned asked as we grabbed our treys.

I chuckled at his comment. "Nah, just this mystery meat that I am forced to eat today." The lunch lady glared at me as she slopped a piece of meatloaf onto my tray. I gave her an apologetic look.

"Are you kidding? Mystery meat is the bomb, you just need some ketchup." We moved through the line. I picked up an apple and shoved it into my mouth while Ned asked for extra mashed potatoes.

"Wow, that's a lot of food," I stated and put extra ketchup on my meatloaf like Ned said to do.

Ned shrugged, "I'm a fifteen-year-old boy who can never be filled, if you think I eat a lot, you should see Peter." He snorted and I looked to my friend's table to see them talking to Peter, which was odd because we rarely sat with different people. I started to walk towards them, Ned by my side. "You think they're talking about us? I bet they're talking about us." He whispered.

I laughed quietly, "Yes, Ned, they are totally talking about us." Ned rolled his eyes and made his way to Peter while I sat next to my friends on the other side of the table.

"Now you can talk about Hawaii." I plopped down and Michelle groaned, throwing her head back.

"But I just finished telling Nat!" She whined and shoved a handful of goldfish into her mouth. She munched on them and then showed me her tongue.

"Ugh, gross!" I pushed her away as she continued to mac on her cheesy crackers, clearly content with the fact that she didn't have to retell the story.

"Hey," I looked over to Peter and Ned, "what are you guys staring at?" I had noticed Peter had a flannel covering the shirt he was wearing earlier. Must've got it from Ned, I thought.

The two very hormonal fifteen-year-old boys had their heads resting on their hands staring dreamily into the distance. They continued to ignore me and the two other girls looking at them. Natalie turned around and laughed. "Yeah, keep dreaming." Michelle and I turned to look, and my friend cracked up.

"Liz Allen?" I asked even though I already knew. Liz was the most popular and sweetest girl in school, she basically defied all stereotypes. I met her a couple of months ago when I joined the academic decathlon team. Peter's attention was jerked away from the junior to me while Ned's gaze was still fixed on the girl.

"Y-Yeah."

"Why?" Nat asked as she looked back to see Liz hanging up a poster for the Almond Bowl, a big football game against our rival high school. Underclassmen lunch was the upperclassmen study hall so she must have had leadership that day, I thought. Natalie turned back around. "I mean, every one of the guys in our grade has a crush on her. What makes her special?"

It was Ned's turn to answer this time. "Hair, eyes, smile, clothes..." He trailed on in a dreamy manner. Peter continued the list.

"Personality," Peter stated and shrugged then went back to eating. I couldn't argue with Peter on that one, Liz was one of the nicest people I have met besides my friends. I dipped some of my mystery meatloaf in ketchup and ate it grudgingly, but to my surprise, it was actually very tasty.

I looked to Ned who was awaiting my reaction. "Ned you were right. This is the bomb." I took another bite and Ned laughed as I scarfed down all my food.

"Excuse me, but, 'the bomb'?" Natalie scrunched her eyebrows together.

Michelle chuckled and picked up a banana and used it as a fake phone, "Oh, Dylan, it's for you. The nineties called, they want their phrase back." I rolled my eyes and pointed to Ned.

"He said it first!" Ned put his hands up in the air and shook his head, unable to talk due to his mouth being stuffed with mystery meatloaf. "Oh stop acting so innocent, Leeds. I know what you did." Ned gulped and started coughing. Peter hit him on his back to help Ned's choking. I smiled at Peter who gave me a sheepish smile in return.

"She's way out of your league," Michelle commented and picked up her bag. Peter rolled his eyes and I looked up, about to question her actions. She nodded, "I'm going to the library, you coming?" I sighed and grabbed my bag, Natalie did the same.

* * *

I made my way into the library after school ended. After walking in I decided to wander the shelves aimlessly. Natalie was heading back on the subway and Michelle decided to head to the detention room again, and knowing my friend she was probably drawing some poor kid in distress. I needed to work on the English poem that was due Monday and would be walking home. Not really liking the idea of homework this weekend I decided to get this over with. The only problem was, I had nothing to write about.

I found a random section that contained Shakespeare and skimmed the shelves, looking for any book that caught my eye. Eventually, I found Romeo and Juliet, I knew it was what we were going to read next in English and I thought Shakespeare did stuff with poem-like things, maybe I could get ideas. I plucked the book out of the shelves and wandered around trying to find a seat.

The library was nearly empty, containing only a couple of hunched-over students. I scanned the tables, looking for someone I recognized, it wasn't until I walked over to sit by the window that I noticed Peter sitting in between the shelves. A notebook was placed in front of his crisscrossed legs and his English book sat wide open next to him. A black pen was tucked behind his ear and a pair of glasses sat on his nose while his eyes scanned the page of a book.

"I didn't know you wore glasses." He jumped as I sat down across from him, crossing my legs as well. "Can I study with you?"

Peter pushed the glasses back on his nose and closed his book. "Um, yeah, sure. I wear glasses, my eyesight isn't that bad but I wear them while studying." I nodded.

"Are you working on the poem too?" I began to pull out my pen and notebook and set them in front of me. I placed Romeo and Juliet in my lap and opened it.

Peter looked down at his empty paper and then back to me. "Yeah, I have no idea what to write though."

I snorted. "I seem to have the same issue." I stared at my blank piece of paper practically wishing that something in my brain would click and I could just write down an amazing poem without a thought. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case, and staring at that mind-numbing piece of college ruled lined notebook paper didn't help me whatsoever.

I saw Peter glance at the book in front of me, and then continue to scribble stuff into his notebook."Why do you have Romeo and Juliet with you?"

I shrugged and flipped a couple of pages. "Everyone's heard the story, and Shakespeare writes sonnets and poems so I thought, why not? It may give me some ideas." I read a couple of lines then sighed, "If I can understand it."

Peter chuckled, "Here. Let me try it." I handed the book over to him and he scanned a couple of pages while I stared at my blank notebook again. "I think that Romeo is in love with some random girl and his cousin is saying you need to find another girl because this one hates you? I may be wrong?"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, how poetic of Shakespeare. Really helping me out." I said as Peter handed the book back to me.

The boy smiled. "Did you know that Shakespeare created almost two thousand of his own words? And they are common too, we use them a lot. So cut the guy some slack Dylan, he wrote about teenager problems, and apparently falling in love with a girl that hates you is one of them." I laughed at his comment, then contained myself as I saw Peter shrug. "What? It's true!" He smirked and then looked to his notebook again.

We fell into a comfortable silence as I read through little bits of the play. I finally began to write some of my poems, only completing about half of it before my phone buzzed. Peter looked up from his poem and made eye contact with me.

"Who is it?" He asked.

"Nat." He nodded and looked back to his poem. "Hello?" I answered the phone.

"What's up girl you are coming over now I'm not taking no for an answer, goodbye." Natalie hung up and a startled look was plastered onto my face.

"Um..okay then," I said and Peter looked up at me again. "I have to go now apparently," I told him and started gathering my stuff and placing it in my backpack.

"Is something wrong? I can help you if you guys need help with something." Peter quickly took off his glasses and placed them in a case that he had taken out of his backpack.

"No, Peter it's okay," I smiled, "Natalie just basically forced me to go to her house in a span of thirty seconds over a phone."

Peter relaxed a little, "Oh, okay. I thought she was hurt or something."

I grinned, "Yes it was a very abrupt invitation." I stood up and threw my backpack onto my back. Peter stood up too, then awkwardly held his hand out for a handshake.

He coughed, "Uh... it was a pleasure working with you, Miss West."

I shook his hand, "Same to you, Mr. Parker." I let go and moved past him then turned to face him as I was walking away. "See ya tomorrow." I turned back around and made my way out of the deserted school and onto the streets of New York City.

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[spiderparkerpeterman]

hey. can you plz write a really fluffy college!au

i absolutely can write a really fluffy college!au. thanks for the request!

“you’re the best”

content: lots of fluff, peter being a Good Boyfriend, college!au

warnings: lapslock, me being touchstarved, i don’t know how american college works so I based it off my own australian uni and it shows

word count: 1104

--

"what are the readings for next week?"

you glanced at peter, exasperated. "you weren't paying attention, were you?"

peter grinned sheepishly. "nope. got distracted thinking about food."

"matt said we have no readings because next week is a prac. you're still wearing your lab coat, by the way. people are staring," you pointed out. peter grinned again and stopped so he could take off his coat.

"people stare anyway," he said, shuffling the sleeves off his arms. "people know who i am, so they wanna get a good look at me."

"it's weird. i know i should be used to it, having dated you for three years and all, but it's still weird," you said. you then cringed at how peter unceremoniously shoved his coat into his bag. "that's gonna get wrinkles, and matt's gonna be pissed off, you know."

"eh. i'll fix it."

you started off the campus lawns again, heading towards the cafeteria.

"i'll get the drinks if you get the food," you said, "can you get me a breakfast wrap?"

peter nodded, fishing in his pockets for his wallet, so you went and joined the small queue at the cafe. it was two in the afternoon so not many people were there, having already eaten lunch, but being the most accessible cafeteria on campus, the place always had people hanging around.

you ordered your usual, got peter a decaf vanilla latte- the boy liked his sugar- then waited at the other end of the counter for your drinks. peter joined you a few minutes later, handing you your wrap. he was holding two cardboard containers and a burger, as he needed a fair amount of food because of how fast his metabolism ran.

"what's in the boxes?" you asked, giving peter a nudge.

"fries in this one, and garlic chorizo pasta in this one," he replied. the barista called your order so you went and collected the drinks, giving peter his latte.

you moved to go find a seat- luckily your usual spot was empty, a table next to a giant window that let you see the lawns and the sports oval in the distance, so you went and sat there.

"so," you said, taking your wrap out of its paper bag, "got any plans tonight?"

peter thought for a moment. "i was gonna go on patrol, then catch up with may. why?"

you shrugged, taking a bite of your food. you swallowed, then said, "we've got that essay for biotech due next week. i was planning on getting a headstart on it, was wondering if you wanted to do it together."

"i can ask may if she wants to do tomorrow night," peter offered, and you smiled.

"put the lady before me, peter, geez. she hasn't had you over for a few weeks. you see me literally every single day."

"i like seeing you every day though," peter said, his eyes staring into your own. you smiled and reached over the table to sock him in the arm.

"gross. i love you."

"love you too."

the two of you sat in companionable silence, eating and drinking- or, in peter's case, wolfing down everything like it was some sort of race- before peter's phone dinged from his pocket. still chewing, he dug it out, and let out a muffled groan.

"you have to go?" you asked, an eyebrow raised. he nodded and showed you his phone, where an alert was showing on his police app.

he swallowed with difficulty. "it's this thing-"

"go," you said, amused.

"okay. sorry, i may as well do patrol while i'm out, i'll bring dinner, i promise," he rambled, standing and swinging his bag onto his shoulder. "i love you so much, i'll see you later."

"i love you too, pete," you replied, tilting your head up so peter could give you a quick kiss before jogging out.

you sighed, a lovestruck smile on your face, before finishing your wrap. you decided to take your drink up to your dorm- there was no reason to stay here for much longer if peter had vanished. he had taken his burger with him, having finished everything else, so you cleaned up and headed towards your dorm room.

you got started on that essay, listening to some music with one earphone in as you worked. you didn't notice that the sun was going down until you heard a tap on the window, looking up to see a semi-dark room, and a grinning peter waving from the window, mask and bag of dinner grasped in his hand.

you got up from your desk, making a detour past the light switch, and opened the window, letting peter clamber in then drop to the floor. he went to your small kitchenette, putting the food down.

"i got delmar's," he announced. you smiled as you took the food out, busying yourself while peter pressed the spider on his outfit, stepped out of his suit, then went into your bathroom to change into the spare clothes he always left here. you couldn't help but notice the large. slightly faded bruise on his ribs as he walked back into the main room still pulling on an old midtown sweatshirt.

"what's that from?" you asked, handing him his sandwich and pointing to his rib.

peter shrugged, leading you to the small couch you had in the corner. "was too preoccupied with grabbing a gun from a guy robbing with a bank that i didn't see his friend sneaking a kick on me."

you winced. "ouch."

"i hardly feel it now though," peter reassured you. "did you get started on that essay?"

you hummed a confirmation. "wrote a fair bit of it- and no you can't read it, come up with your own arguments. anyway, you're lucky i don't room with anyone. you walking around shirtless with bruises all over yourself would drive anyone crazy."

"you haven't gone crazy," peter grinned. you rolled your eyes.

"because i'm used to it."

"but not the staring."

"no, not the staring."

peter stood up, put his sandwich down, and went over to get his laptop from his backpack, then yours from your desk. he put them down on the coffee table and settled back down, opening his arm for you to settle into his chest.

he kissed the top of your head, then mumbled into your hair, "i love you."

"love you too," you replied, leaning up so you could kiss him gently on the lips. he smiled into the kiss, humming a little bit.

"you're the best," he whispered when you had broken apart. you raised an eyebrow.

"only because you're the best."

[realityisabitch07]

TOM HOLLAND SPIDER-MAN AU

if you’re looking for a new and interesting Tom/Peter story check out my Wattpad account.

This story is something I’ve just started working on and I’m really proud of it. Go give it a read if you want something new to cure your quarantine boredom ;)

Please COMMENT (please :/) to let me know your opinions/suggestions/thoughts/and theories! I love reading comments it encourages me so much !

I hope y’all are doing amazing and staying safe !

[indecember]

Colors | p.p x reader

Pairing: Peter Parker/Spiderman x reader

Summary: When (Y/N) find out her best friend's identity, she would have never imagined what he was hiding from her all this time. She doesn't just feel betrayed, she can't forgive him.

Warnings: angst, sorry

Word count: 1276

A/N: felt inspired by the song Colours (stripped version) by Halsey and wrote a little short fic-song about it. Let me know what you think about it. Ps : french girl here, sorry if you any mistakes ♡

‘Everything is blue

His pills, his hands, his jeans’

“Oh, sweetheart!”

The woman immediately wrapped her arms as she saw your face. Her warmth embrace spread in your whole body. A weak smile crossed your face, even if your clothes were completely wet, while she squeezed you a little more.

“God, you must be freezing!” She said before letting you go. “Come on in.”

You entered the house you knew well while May closed the door. She hooked your coat and offered you a towel to dry the water soaking from your hair. 

"Here, take this." She added, handing you a clean sweater, before disappearing in the kitchen. "Your dad's going to kill me if you get back sick !"

"It was definitely warmer in Prague." 

Your eyes laid down on the large clothing which didn't belong to her, judging by the nerdy graphics written on it. 

"I didn't know you were coming over!" May hissed from the other room as you put the sweater on.

"I wanted to surprise you." You responded.

She then returned to the living room with two cups of tea. It will definitely help your frozen body.

"Thank you, May."

She always knew how to treat her guests. That’s the reason why you never felt like a stranger at the Parker’s and spent a lot of time here. Especially after the accident.

"Oh, stop." She smiled before sitting next to you. "So, how was Croatia?"

"It was incredible. The islands are incredibly beautiful and full of history." 

"Tell me about it, I read Hvar had lavender fields. Did you saw them?" She excitedly asked.

"No, we stayed only for a few hours there." 

She silently nodded before taking a sip of the hot beverage and you cleared your throat. One question was on your mind since you entered, but the answer seemed obvious.

"May? Um, his Pete here?"

"No... No, he went out with Ned."

Your hands clung firmly to the hot cup.

“But he’s going to be so happy you’re here, you know.” She said.

"Really?" 

"Of course, really. Why not?"

May frowned and you turned at the stormy sky. It was the worst day to be outside but realized you ran all the way from your house, under the smashing rain, to be here. You've landed an hour ago and your first thought was to be with them.

“Did something happen between you guys?”

Your eyes met May’s again.

“It’s- I just think there’s something different about Peter.” You finally confessed. 

May slightly sighed and put her tea down on the table.

“You’ve known each other since primary school and you’re in high school, now... You've been going through a lot of changes."

“No, that’s not it.”

It was subtle at first, so you didn’t see the point of talking about it. Peter seemed busy until he started to forget things: movie nights with Ned and MJ, Sunday’s breakfast at your place… Then, he missed your texts and calls. That’s when you started to get worried. However, his absence wasn’t the most painful above all.

The fact that he might keep something away from you was.

“It’s been months, May… He's changed.” Your voice slowly broke. “He's not the same person anymore."

‘And now I’m covered in the colors

Pull apart at the seams’

Peter was the very first friend you had; the shoulder you could cry on, the little boy who gave you is lunch after two kids bullying you throw yours in the toilets. He just didn’t propose to share his but offered you all of it. Peter was that kind of friend. Your family watched you grow up as your friendship became stronger. You remembered how happy you were.

Until your whole world fell apart, seven years ago.

Your mother’s death made you feel like nothing else matters. Everything became abruptly surrounded by darkness. You let yourself sink while your father was battling with his grief too. Your family tried to help you, just like May and Peter. You couldn’t find a way to support your own weight anymore and stayed in bed, for weeks. It took you months to see some hope at the end of the tunnel.

You fought and couldn’t be more grateful to everyone who constantly left you up. May and Peter represented such a big part of your life now. Nevertheless, you could feel it slipping away from you and wanted to be there for your best friend. He never let you down.

Not once.

“Do you know when he'll be back? I just need to speak with–“

But you were interrupted by a terrible noise.

“What was that?” You mumbled, surprised.

“Um, probably the thunder…”

“The thunder?”

You suspiciously looked at the women you considered yourself the closest to after your dad. 

What was going on? 

“Is there someone else with you?”

May opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

He was here.

And before she could find another excuse, you jumped from the couch and ran to the stairs. You urged to your best friend’s room, May right behind you.

“Wait, Y/N!” you heard before opening the door.

‘And it’s blue

And it’s blue’

You instantly noticed a slim figure standing near the open windows and recognized the young adolescent.

“Y/N…”

Peter looked like a mess, his face was covered with bruises and cuts. However, all your attention was focused on the costume he was wearing.

“I– I can explain everything, okay?” He muttered.

But you were confused by the blue and red mask Peter was holding in his hands.

It was him.

Your thoughts started to spin fast. Too fast.

“Honey–“

“This is what you were hiding from me. The entire time.” You difficultly spoke before glancing at May, trying to hold back your tears. “Both of you.”

It didn’t just hurt.

You felt betrayed as if you weren’t worth their trust.

“May doesn’t have anything to do with this… It was my decision.” Peter admitted.

You were now staring at each other.

“Please, just hear me out…” He insisted. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t want you to find out this way.”

‘Everything is gray

His hair, his smoke, his dreams’

He looked sincere, but you remained silent to his distress, heavily breathing. Why did it look like the walls were getting smaller? You reached the door’s handle in time as your vision blurred for a brief moment.

"Y/N, hey!"

Peter was suddenly in front of you while you were reaching for some air. His lips were moving, but no sound came to your ears. You sensed May's perfume, but couldn't see her. It was so dark. 

"Let's get her to the bed..."

You had to blink a few times and reality hit you back.  

"Don't, don't-"

"Are you okay?" 

He was worried. 

"No, don't... Touch me." 

"You need to sit down for a minute." He insisted.

"I said, stay away from me!"

He suddenly stopped when your scream resonated in the room. You were just as shock as him. It was the first time you've been yelling at him. It never happened. Not once. 

‘And now he’s so devoid of color

He don’t know what it means’

He suddenly stopped when your scream resonated in the room. You were just as shock as him. It was the first time you've been yelling at him. It never happened. Not once. 

“I- I need to get out of here.” 

You were crying. Staying was only making things worse. 

"Please, I didn't want you to get involved in all of this." Your best friend whispered.

How could you believe him?

"I can't stay here." You said between your sobs. 

All you think about was them lying to you as the last words left your mouth.

"I can't be around you anymore."

‘And he’s blue

And he’s blue’

[spideyboi-imagines-blog]

Saved - 1 (Peter Parker T.H)

You sighed as you heard the voicemail of your best friend, after ringing him for the fourth time that night.

Hi! It's Parker, Peter Parker. Call me later? His chirpy voice sounded through your phone speaker, as you sat on the curb of the road, sniffing slightly, rubbing your watery eyes furiously.

"Peter? It's Y/N. I've rang you , like,  four times now. Can you please pick up? I... I needed a lift home, but Mom is out of town, and Y/S/N isn't replying and I don't wanna walk through Queens by myself in the dark and-"

The answering machine cut off with a beep and you cursed softly.

"Damnit, Parker."

You couldn't wait any longer - you'd been sat outside your boyfriends - well, ex boyfriend, now - house for twenty minutes now, after storming out after a particularly bad argument, and you probably needed to accept that   neither Peter, nor your sister, was going to pick up the phone anytime now. Pulling your sweater sleeves down, to cover your cold hands, and swinging your bag over your shoulder, you looked up at the darkening sky, the moon just beginning to show, and began the twenty minute walk home.  It'll be fine. You told yourself, chewing at your already bitten-to-the-quick nails. It's not even properly dark yet.

Your phone was in your hands, so you'd have something to look at, anything, to distract you, from the anxiety that was building up in your stomach, but you had no one to text. The only people you were close enough to message were seemingly ignoring you, and you found yourself wondering just why Peter was ignoring you. Perhaps he was with Ned , you mused, or MJ. You didn't know exactly why you felt jealous at that. It's not like Peter and I were best friends first or anything... You thought sarcastically, hating your slightly bitter tone.

You were ten minutes away from your home, a little apartment on the top floor of a building on the outskirts of Queens, you realised, as you passed a closed café you often frequented, for the ice blue slushies that you and Peter drank on a hot day, or warm pepper mint coffee in the midst of winter. You could do with a warm drink right now, at eight o clock in November, your warm breath steaming out in front of you, visible from the dim light of your phone.

A  ping came from your phone, distracting you from your surroundings.

Peter Parker 🦕 is typing...

A small smile appeared on your face. He hadn't forgotten you at all. He was just busy. Your anxious thoughts subsided for a few minutes - you weren't annoying him, he-

"Give me the phone." A harsh voice spoke from in front of you, and a tiny, shocked, shriek, elicited from your lips, as you looked up to see a teenager, perhaps only a few years older than you, his face partially shadowed by a hood from his jumper.

He was taller than you, only by a little, and in the day time, perhaps you wouldn't have been so scared.

But nighttime, in an empty street? A whole other thing.

You froze, like a deer, in headlights.

"I-"

"Give me the phone." He snapped.

"No, I-" You protested weakly, thinking about how many photos and memories were contained in the iPhone in your hand, the one you cursed yourself for waving it around, almost asking to be robbed.

"I won't ask again. Give me the fucking phone."

You were trembling, as you held out the phone, trying to think of anyway you could get away. But you knew, in the stupid heeled boots that adorned your feet, you couldn't exactly run.

He grabbed it hastily, and it occurred to you that he didn't seem like a very experienced robber, him looking around every few seconds for what you could only assume were the authorities, that very rarely patrolled this part of Queens anyway.

"Please, don't take my phone-"

You were cut off, shrieked again, not by the boy in front of you, but by a presence, another person, who seemed to have dropped from the fucking rooftops.

You blinked, ready to run, heeled boots be damned, when you properly looked at the person, and felt a gasp elicit from your lips. Spider-Man?

"Everything okay here?" He looked directly at you, in a tone that sounded deep, but almost as if he was putting it on - it kept cracking.

The robber in front of you was as pale as you now, mouth open wide

in surprise.

"H-He took my phone." You were still trembling from shock, pointing at the older boy in front of you.

The boy looked down at your phone, back to Spider-Man, back to you, and then, quick as a flash, dropped it to the ground and took off running, faster than you would have guessed he could have.

You immediately dived towards the mobile, on the ground, picking it up hastily, as Spider-Man took off too, after the would-be robber.

You were still shaking, but more in shock than in genuine fear. Two or three large cracks now were on your phone screen, and you sighed a little, but were just glad that that was the only casualty of the night. The notification from before Peter Parker 🦕 is typing... still remained on your screen, but no more joined it. No frantic phone calls from the boy, not even a single text was on the screen. You stared at that for a few seconds, unsure of what you had done to him to cause him to ignore you, before deciding that the situation at hand was arguably more important.

Standing up, dusting off your baggy jeans, you carefully zipped your phone into your bag, surprised the robber hadn't tried to take that also. You looked around, to see that both people who had been on the street with you a few moments ago had both disappeared. What were you supposed to do? Wait for Spider-Man to come back? You decided that you had already waited around enough for people tonight, and began glumly walking back home again, looking around you constantly, on edge, and therefore, saw Spider Man just before he frightened the living daylights out of you again, dropping down from above you.

"Jesus, dude, you really need to stop fucking doing that." You pointed out, crossing your arms.

"Sorry, ma'am." He had an almost grin in his voice.

Huh. Ma'am?

"You okay?" He continued, still trying to put on that deep tone. You could almost swear you recognised it.

You shrugged. "I guess."

"Why are you walking around alone?" He questioned.

"Broke up with my boyfriend. I was hoping my friend would come walk me home - he knows I don't like the dark much. He didn't show though."

You very much sounded like you needed pity, and you very much so hated that. You continued.

"It's fine. He was just busy. He's busy a lot."

The boy next to you, walking, not swinging around the rooftops as he was usually pictured, paused for a few moments.

"I'm sure he wanted to be there, he-"

You shrugged. "It's like this a lot. I'm, unfortunately, used to it. I get it. We're just growing apart."

"I-I'm sure that's not it-"

"Look, Spider-Man , I don't need you to be my shrink or whatever."

You laughed a little. "But thankyou. For saving me."

He turned in your direction, and you'd imagine, without a mask, he'd be grinning. A soft grin, that barely pulled up the corners of his mouth - he'd be tired, you guessed, and -

"No problem. What's your name?"

"Y/N."

"Hi Y/N, I'm Spider-Man." He replied.

You laughed. "I don't get a real name?"

He paused again. "I-I don't usually-"

"It's fine dude. I get it. Anonymity is key." You smiled softly, before walking in silence for a few minutes.

"You gonna follow me the whole way home, Spidey?"

"Just wanna make sure you're safe."

"I appreciate it." You smiled at him, before looking up at the building in front of you. "Well, this is me."

You looked at him.

"See ya around, Spidey."

He laughed, a cute laugh, that, god didn't you recognise it?

"See ya around, Y/N."

[spidermanlover142]

Stars and the Moon - Spiderman (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/story/295920060-stars-and-the-moon-spiderman?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_myworks&wp_uname=alanalupim&wp_originator=lZu9BGAapDjKMcWyliaxG%2FghdueO5dYKqejC9aSLMGJj3%2B%2BwHTpVbyvIvoSHdnWcBWhsbEwjSTUo2uTwg0arGdhn5FA3EplAKeyHTdeB88%2FUiiwDmK%2FYzWVMFEHWOthZ Second book First book: Out of My League

[final-girl96]

Radioactive Spider Bite (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/story/269072304?utm_source=android&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details_button&wp_uname=Cole22_Ann_Writings&wp_originator=doBkjAsZbjuc6qA%2BQJqa1aS3%2Bjl8Hr4gfkOlf1rDxinUbbnQ0iey42RTAj0O9dlvi7JHs6TJeSYROKslzDPWas%2F7SzQONz1dTfK3o49ihdvXzPNvfI6hjjSLHkoFCTqg

SLOW UPDATES

Peter Parker x Reader

*DISCLAIMER I DO NOT OWN SPIDER MAN OR MARVEL OR ANY OF THE DIALOG. I ONLY OWN MY CHARACTER AND SOME OF THE DIALOG I MAKE UP*

Peter Park was my best friend since we were six when he moved in upstairs with his Uncle Ben and Aunt May. May always watched me when my mom was out of town on a business trip which w…

[falling-pages]

Stuck With You: A Peter Parker/Spider-Man Fanfiction - 5. We didn't start the fire (on Wattpad) https://my.w.tt/mPKvdz4krY Being Spider-Man has its downsides. As Uncle Ben always said, with great power comes great responsibility. Sometimes you mess up. Sometimes people die. Sometimes you find out that everything you thought you knew is a lie. Izzy de Bracko might be falling in love with her best friend, Peter Parker. But amidst her parent's divorce and constant fights with her brother, she barely has time to focus on school and her robotics club, much less dating. Besides, it's always been true: falling in love with your best friend never works out. And she'd never want to lose Peter. Peter Parker might be falling in love with his best friend, Izzy de Bracko. When he swings high about the Queens streets, all he can think about are her eyes and the way her voice clears up when she laughs. He hates lying to her about the so-called "Stark internship," but he knows it's better this way. He can't lose her like he's lost everyone else. He can't lose his best friend.

[lousfeature]

Promise

Warning: mentions of death and blood.

A/N Heya, new sad imagine here. I tried to make it sad at least. I’m starting my thomas nickerson series this week so you’ll see. Enjoy.

It was as if everything went in slowmotion. One moment you were standing on a safe place, away from any harm, far enough at least. The next you were standing in front of him, pushing him aside.

Flashback

You were laying next to Peter on his bed. Midnight had passed already and yet you both were awake, feeling the cool breeze of the wind that came from the window which Peter had left open when he entered.

When you looked up you saw Peter already staring at you.

“Pete?”

“Hmm” he hummed.

“What are you thinking about?”

“You.” he answered.

Your eyes flicked down for a moment before looking up again. Even though you’d been together with Peter for several months now he could still make you as flustered as you were when you first met him.

“Oh really?” You smirked.

Peter chuckled slightly at you, but quickly returned to his original state.

“Y/n, what if something happens to you?”

“Happens to me?” you asked carefully.

“What if something happens to you just like it happened to him, because of me. I don’t want that.”

“That will never happen, okay?” you asked but also stated.

“But what if it will? I don’t think I could handle it.”

“If something happens.. which is unlikely, you should carry on living. Everything I do is my choice. Being here, with you, is my choice. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Peter’s eyes flicked up and down your face.

“Nothing will happen Peter.” you whispered to comfort him.

“Promise?

“Promise.”

The cold air brushed past your hair. For a second everything seemed fine. Peter had told you to stay where you were, but you couldn’t. Not when you could save him. The fight he was once winning was taking a nasty twist. Peter was pretty beaten up, his suit ripped in pieces. Another person showed up from behind Spiderman. You recognized him, the Green Goblin. He had a spear in his hand and went in for Peter. You reacted so quick, not even thinking twice about your choice. You jumped in front of Peter. You got the impact. You gasped loudly. Peter turned around so quickly. You looked down at your stomach, spear sticking out. Your breathing slowed down. The only thing you could hear was your breathing. The Goblin took the spear out as he saw what he did and left immediately, and so did his little sidekick, that’s what you called him in your head.

Blood was now rushing out of your stomach. Your knees got weak and just as you were about to hit the ground Peter caught you. Holding you up he grabbed your face.

“Y/n?”

Your eyes stared up at him. A smile creeping up your face. You saved him.

“Y/n? Why did you do that. Why would you do that!” Peter cried.

“I saved you, the amazing Spiderman. Got saved by a girl.” You smiled.

Peter chuckled slightly. Tears welling up in his eyes. Even on your worst you managed to make a witty remark.

“It’s okay.” You noticed Peter’s worried look.

“Y/n.” He said with tears in his eyes.

“I-I made.. my choice. Peter.” You told him. “This.. was my decision.”

“You promised me.. to carry on with your life, remember?” You coughed.

 He started crying now. Everything you had said that evening came flushing back to his thoughts.

“Peter.” You tried to get a reaction from him.

“I-.” Peter had to hold himself together. This was all his fault, was all he could think.

“I’m so sorry Y/n.”

You slipped away for a second. There wasn’t much time left.

“Y/n don’t you give up on me.” He continued.

 Breathing became harder now, blood started filling your lungs. You could taste the metal taste in your mouth. A streak of blood started coming out of your nose, blood started rushing to the corners of your mouth. Realizing you didn’t have much time left you spoke.

“I lov-”

“Y/n, no!” Peter interrupted you.

“Don’t say your goodbyes yet. You’re gonna make it. You are.” Peter assured you. He held you close to him.

“It’s okay, it’s perfect. I’m dying in the arms of the person I love most. I love you Peter Parker.” You whispered.

 You slowly started slipping, panic settled in and Peter noticed too.

“I love you Y/n L/n. So much.” Peter kissed your forehead slowly.

 That was the last thing you heard. The last thing you felt were Peter’s wet tears sticking on your forehead. Darkness taking over. You had slipped away. Realizing your body went cold Peter started looking up.

 “Y/n?” Peter asked as he came up from your face.

“Y/N?” He started shaking you tenderly.

“You stay with me, stay with me, stay with me.”

“No. No please, no. Breath. Come on Y/n breath!”

“Please.”

Tears started overflowing. The thing he loved most was taken from him. Breathing became hard, it felt as if all oxygen was taken. Peter held you close to him. He started rocking your body back and forth while crying out. A hole started settling in his heart, realizing what just happened, realizing he could never again hold you, never again kiss you, never see you smile again, never hear your witty remarks again, but most importantly never see you breath again, live again. He started sobbing. A void that could not be filled had taken it’s place in his heart.

“You promised me.”

[flyinggraceon]

The Black Fat Cat

Chapter 5: Son of a Gun.

Mary Jane looked at the clock excitedly and checked everything was in order. She had done all of her chores for the day at the shop, and Harry would cover for her the hour she would be gone. Everything was in place. The clock ticked, signaling it had been fifteen minutes now from the time Peter was coming to pick her up. She started to wonder if he was really coming after all, but she reminded herself that Harry had said that he was very unpunctual for some reason. Still, that didn't stop her from wondering.

"Hey MJ!" What did stop her from wondering was seeing Peter walk right in through the door,"Sorry I'm late, but my boss—" She waved it off.

"It's fine, I used the time to finish my chores here. And I was warned about your tardiness Mr. Parker." She joked.

Peter laughed, but something seemed odd about it. He surely knew that it was most probable that it had been Harry who told her. But then again, it could be something entirely else.

She took her uniform accessories off and put them under the counter. She and Peter walked out and into his car. She couldn't help but being excited. None of her friends liked to do this with her, or at least try like Peter. It was surprising for her how nice he was with her even though they barely knew each other.

"So, this musical-theatre thing, you really love it, don't you?" He asked, probably trying to make small talk.

MJ grinned. "Yeah, it's my passion. Seriously though, you'll thank me after this. Les Mis is one of the best." She said.

Peter smiled. "I really hope so. I read online it lasts over two hours!"

MJ laughed. "You bet."

After that it was only a few moments of silence. The silent sound of cars, traffic jam and people screaming was a comfortable one for them, it seemed. But well, after living in such a busy city for so long, all that sound seemed to them like the sound of their breathing; sometimes, they don't even notice it's there, and when they do, it's relaxing and comforting.

"So, what about this girl of yours, what's her name?"

She noticed how his face went from a happy one to a goofy, teenage-love-like one. His smile grew even wider, but it was almost as if he didn't even notice. She wondered for a moment if that's how someone in love looked like.

"Her name's Gwen. She's— she's so—"

MJ giggled.

"Yeah yeah, I get it. She lights up your life. She's the sun of your days and the moon of your nights." She said. She didn't just save him from and awkward heartedly moment, but she also gave him good phrases to tell her. Damn, she was good.

"She is." He said as a matter of fact.

"And why haven't I seen her? You go everyday to the shop, but she's never with you." She asked.

And suddenly, his smile flattened. His face went from joyfully to a neutral one. He was silent for a moment, a moment long enough for MJ to wonder if he had even heard her. But the look on his face, his sudden change of emotions said otherwise, she was sure of it. Because of that, it caught her a little off guard when he answered

"It's complicated." He said only at first. MJ didn't want to pride since it was probably none of her business. Maybe after they became closer friends she'd know. Maybe he wouldn't even have to tell her, she'd notice. It was a weird mix of emotions; the ones tangible in the air, Peter's, and the ones inside her, the awkwardness, sheepishness and at last but not least, the excitement of a new friend. The last one was one she hadn't felt in a long time, she had never felt so eager to meet someone, to know more about them. It usually just happened, or it didn't.

"Oh." She said unconsciously. She didn't really mean anything by it.

"It's not— it's—"

"It's okay Peter." She interrupted him. She knew he probably wasn't going to tell her anyway, so why make him uncomfortable? "You don't have to tell me. Geez, it was just a question."

Peter chuckled awkwardly. Damn, everything about him screamed awkward.

"Sorry. It's just still a touchy subject." He said, smiling.

After a moment MJ turned the volume on the radio up. Son of a Gun by The Vaselines was on, and even though it wasn't exactly her genre she knew it was Peter's. Besides, that didn't mean she didn't like it.

Peter started singing the song in low volume and MJ smirked. When the chorus came, she sang along.

"The sun shines in the bedroom when you play," Peter's smile grew wider when he heard her sing, and he quickly glanced at her before turning back to the road. He sang louder, even though he thought he wasn't a good singer, but MJ gave him this sort of confidence, so he just though: "What the hell."

"And the raining always starts when you go away."

They both felt the tension drift away at the rhythm of the music and they kept singing, Peter all of the song and MJ the chorus. At some point, they both stopped singing and started laughing.

"I never thought you'd like this music." He told her.

"Well, as you may already know, I am full of surprises." She answered, a smirk on her face."But I only know the chorus, though."

Peter laughed loudly. "Well, you got almost half of the song."

She laughed, too. "Yeah, yeah. You're right."

For the rest of their way they listened to the radio and played guessing the song that came on next. Neither of them thought they would have all that fun. And this was just the start.

Hey guys, sorry the long wait. Life’s kinda complicated right now, but don’t worry. I’ll finish this story.

Previous: Chapter 4: Hardworking Employees

Chapter Index

Next: ----

[falling-pages]

Stuck With You: A Peter Parker/Spider-Man Fanfiction - 4. The Voices (on Wattpad) https://my.w.tt/Y8dXqAUfmY Being Spider-Man has its downsides. As Uncle Ben always said, with great power comes great responsibility. Sometimes you mess up. Sometimes people die. Sometimes you find out that everything you thought you knew is a lie. Izzy de Bracko might be falling in love with her best friend, Peter Parker. But amidst her parent's divorce and constant fights with her brother, she barely has time to focus on school and her robotics club, much less dating. Besides, it's always been true: falling in love with your best friend never works out. And she'd never want to lose Peter. Peter Parker might be falling in love with his best friend, Izzy de Bracko. When he swings high about the Queens streets, all he can think about are her eyes and the way her voice clears up when she laughs. He hates lying to her about the so-called "Stark internship," but he knows it's better this way. He can't lose her like he's lost everyone else. He can't lose his best friend.

[falling-pages]

Stuck With You: A Peter Parker/Spider-Man Fanfiction - 3. Close Enough (on Wattpad) https://my.w.tt/EzNUzWNKfY Being Spider-Man has its downsides. As Uncle Ben always said, with great power comes great responsibility. Sometimes you mess up. Sometimes people die. Sometimes you find out that everything you thought you knew is a lie. Izzy de Bracko might be falling in love with her best friend, Peter Parker. But amidst her parent's divorce and constant fights with her brother, she barely has time to focus on school and her robotics club, much less dating. Besides, it's always been true: falling in love with your best friend never works out. And she'd never want to lose Peter. Peter Parker might be falling in love with his best friend, Izzy de Bracko. When he swings high about the Queens streets, all he can think about are her eyes and the way her voice clears up when she laughs. He hates lying to her about the so-called "Stark internship," but he knows it's better this way. He can't lose her like he's lost everyone else. He can't lose his best friend.

[falling-pages]

Stuck With You: A Peter Parker/Spider-Man Fanfiction - 1. Stuck With You (on Wattpad) https://my.w.tt/3qKDgzCz7X 

In honor of Far from Home being released (10/10 by the way) I decided to reboot the fanfic I have been working on. Find it on my wattpad at Falling_Pages

 Being Spider-Man has its downsides. As Uncle Ben always said, with great power comes great responsibility. Sometimes you mess up. Sometimes people die. Sometimes you find out that everything you thought you knew is a lie. Izzy de Bracko might be falling in love with her best friend, Peter Parker. But amidst her parent's divorce and constant fights with her brother, she barely has time to focus on school and her robotics club, much less dating. Besides, it's always been true: falling in love with your best friend never works out. And she'd never want to lose Peter. Peter Parker might be falling in love with his best friend, Izzy de Bracko. When he swings high about the Queens streets, all he can think about are her eyes and the way her voice clears up when she laughs. He hates lying to her about the so-called "Stark internship," but he knows it's better this way. He can't lose her like he's lost everyone else. He can't lose his best friend.

[falling-pages]

Stuck With You: A Peter Parker/Spider-Man Fanfiction - 2. Golden Hour (on Wattpad) https://my.w.tt/IbcEwznz7X 

Chapter two is uploaded!

[infiltrationbygamma]

Masterlist

Read Evasion, the prequel to Infiltration here. Currently about 500 favorites on this one. The summary is...

Determination is a powerful fuel. It can drive people to do what no one else will do, and what no one else can do. It can give those the ability to defeat even giants. Peter Parker experiences this first hand when the most powerful heroes on the planet seek his identity. Prequel to Infiltration

Read Infiltration here. This one has over 1200 followers, 800 favorites, and 70,000 words. Here’s a summary! 

It is determination that fuels Peter Parker's daring undercover mission as an intern for Stark Tower. The Avengers continue to pursue Spider-Man. If Peter can't find a way to gain the upper-hand, it's only a matter of time before his identity is compromised. He befriends two unlikely allies, as it slowly becomes obvious that something bigger is at play. Sequel to Evasion

I've had a lot of people request deleted bits from Infiltration and Evasion. The link to that is here

I’ve written other fanfictions as well, including a Spider-Man Fourth of July mini-fic, and a Tony&OC story that is in the process of completion. Go check out my ffn profile for those and more about me.

I also have a normal tumblr, @gammathetaalpha. If you want to see some fragments of my original writing, go there. I have a dragon piece I’m especially proud of. 

[falling-pages]

Peter Parker’s Voices

This is a little chapter from my spider-man fanfiction, Stuck With You. If you enjoy this chapter, go ahead and check it out (I am falling_pages on wattpad)! I’m so sorry for what I am about to do to this cinnamon roll because there’s a lot of pain in this.

Chapter 4: The Voices (Peter’s POV)

Good job, Parker, you blew it. You had the chance to ask her out and you messed it all up.

I know the voice isn’t real, but it screeches in my head louder than any other thought. I could never escape it, though I tried: soundproof headphones, blasting music, even dunking my head in a bucket of water. Nothing worked. If I couldn’t drown myself, I needed to drown the voices. But the bad thing about voices is that they can’t be silenced. While I plugged my nose and held my breath and listened to my heart pump blood, ice-cold in the water, I wondered if those voices could swim faster than I. I never wanted to find out.

Maybe I shouldn’t hate them. For what it’s worth, they had saved my life many times. Taught me how to use my powers, even. Post-spider bite, when I was curled onto my bed, clutching my sheets and vomiting into a trash can because I was too weak to get to a toilet, those voices were there. They sang to me of what had happened and told me what I was, now. I nestled into their arms and relaxed as they waxed eloquent about all the prophecies, the laws of nature, what a special child I was and the responsibility I now carried. As my breathing slowed and eyes closed, I fell into an embrace of shifting sands. They repeated my abilities until they were burned into my brain. I knew what my mission was long before Tony Stark entered my home. 

Swaddled in pain and surrounded by darkness, alone and vulnerable, I made friends with the voices inside my head. 

At first, they were friendly. Part of my spider-sense, they told me when to jump or duck or flip just in time to avoid getting hurt. I always relied on my other spider-senses first--the lightheadedness, arm hair standing up, a tick in my neck, an itch in my stomach--just in case the voices were wrong. They never were.

When I was about to fling myself off a building to test my powers, they suggested I jump off a bench first, just to test the strength of my webs with minimal bodily damage. The left, right, left, thrust-and-pull pattern of my swinging? All choreographed by the voices, playing against my eyelids as I lay in bed, tapping the rhythm against my thigh.

The night I got bitten, when I was crying from the pain and soaked in feverish sweat, the voices wiped my face and told me about all the grand things I’d see, the power after the pain, how the world was one big shiny crown passed from one victor to another, and now was my time to wear it.

I’ve seen the world, and there is nothing grand or shiny about it. There are beautiful moments, like butterflies landing on flowers, the satisfaction of a perfectly done equation, and Izzy’s smile. But more often I came face-to-face with the scum of the earth, staring evil in the eyes while squashing it under my palm. Watching Uncle Ben die was a stark reminder. In my nightmares, everything I held dear would disintegrate like dust and fly off. And nowadays, my nightmares seemed more like realities.

I rake my fingers through my hair, squeezing my eyes shut as I walk, trusting my spider-sense to keep me from walking into a pole. Those tacos churn in my stomach, getting worse after I pass a dumpster. I pause, letting everything shift back to normal. When I take a step, my heart leaps into my throat, battling the voices getting louder and louder.

What a loser. Why would Mr. Stark choose you?

You’ve been given all this power, and what do you do? Help old people cross the street and rescue cats from trees when there are robbers and murderers on the loose?

What makes you think you can be an Avenger when you can’t even ask out the girl you like?

I dig my nails into my palms, crushing my eyelids even more closed. Why me? Why can’t I keep my sanity?

Cars whizz by, telling me I’m nearing the heart of Queens. Their honks battle with the voices, a shouting match with no winner, my brain the arena, with me as the lone spectator. 

I careen to the left, needing to get out, somewhere quiet, clean, isolated--

STOP

A voice louder than the others screams at me as something like white lightning strikes the inside of the eyelids. I lurch to a stop, feeling a rush of wind a few inches from my face. My heart stops as I wrench open my eyes to see a van fly by and stop less than a foot away.

Fire consumes my whole body. One more step, and that car would have hit me.

The driver gets out, but I turn away and run as fast as I can. It doesn’t matter where; I trust my feet and my sense. It saved my ass back there.

But as soon as I take a step, the voices return.

Worthless freak.

You should have let that car hit you, Parker. You’ll do more for the people dead than you are doing right now alive. Everyone knows that martyrs get more glory than living heroes.

“No, no, no,” I whisper, my chest heaving as I run. My throat closes, and I feel like I’m breathing in air through a cloth. Choking, suffocating, burning.

If I can’t run, I can swing.

Making sure no one’s around, I extend my right arm and flick a web into the air. It catches on a lamp post, then the next one wraps around a window sill. Over and over again, flick, twist, thrust, flick, welcoming the burn in my biceps as I pull myself up. Swinging demands all my concentration, so I can’t focus on the voices. Thankfully, one helps me out.

Left, right, left. Thrust. Pull. Extend. Remember who you are, Peter. Remember Spider-Man.