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steves-legs · 5 years

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My Brother’s Best Friend (Chris Evans x Reader)

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Summary: Back home in Boston after your final year at Columbia University, you expect an easygoing and relaxed summer. But those plans go right out the window when your childhood crush, Chris, comes back home after filming a big movie, you see it as a chance to maybe have the summer fling you’d always hoped for. But the fact that he’s your older brother’s best friend may complicate that just a bit.

Warnings: swearing, drinking, fluff!!!, & some angst bc im feeling angsty

...

You tap your index finger against the steering wheel to the beat of the song playing off your phone. You can’t help but feel a sense of contentment as you drive down the street you grew up on. Your music cuts out just before the chorus and your ringer goes off over your car’s speakers. You jump at the sound, letting out a soft gasp before you move to turn down the obnoxiously loud ringtone. You glance over at the screen for a moment. ‘Danny’. You tap the “Answer” button and rest your hands back on the steering wheel.

“What’s up?” “Hey, Y/N. You almost here?” your brother calls from his end. “Just pulling up. Why?” you ask as you turn into your parents’ driveway. There are a suspicious number of cars parked on the road in front of your parents’ house. “Oh, thank God. Mom's been buggin’ me about whether you were close or not. Dinner’s soon,” Danny says. You can hear your mother’s annoyed gasp from the other line. “Love you, mom,” he calls, hushing his voice to a whisper. “She’s gonna kill me.” “You’re damn right she is.” You slow to a halt right behind... Mr. Evans’ car. What the fuck? “You guys havin’ a party or something? A lot of, uh, cars on the street, Danny,” you ask, somewhat annoyed. You really just wanted to bring your bags in, say hi to everyone, eat dinner, and go the fuck to sleep immediately. You groan, shutting your car off and pulling your keys out of the ignition. You unplug and cradle your phone between your ear and your shoulder as you pack your things into your purse. You’ll get your other bags later. “Fuuuuuuck, the cars,” he groans. His voice hushes down into a whisper as he continues, “Yes. It was supposed to be a surprise.” You can hear him smack a hand over his forehead.

You can hear the sounds of laughter and chit-chat, as well as music from the backyard as you climb out of the car. You shut the door with a sharp snap and as if on cue, the voices and music die down almost immediately. “I’ll do my best to act surprised, don’t worry,” you snicker, not bothering to wait for a response before you hang up and make your way up to the front door. Of course, only the outer glass door is shut. The red front door is wide open, so you let yourself right in. You play the role of the unknowing surprise party victim and call out to your family members. “Mom? Dad? Danny? Red?” You even throw your dog’s name into the mix for maximum effect. “Y/N?” a voice that, though familiar, you know definitely doesn’t belong to any of your family members calls. You tilt your head to the left slightly, dropping your purse on the table in the front hall, and make your way towards the source. You head right through the doorway leading into the kitchen and see none other than Chris standing there, a beer in his hand. You can feel your heart rate increase almost immediately. That flimsy red shirt’s doing its absolute best to hold itself together under the strain of his muscles. The collar is frayed slightly, probably from being washed over and over. The little nicks in the fabric allow the thin chain round his neck to show. Did he somehow get even more ripped since the last time you’d seen him? He has the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows. He gives you an excited smile when he has visual confirmation that it is, in fact, you.

“Oh my God, Y/N! Hey!” he exclaims, setting his drink down and moving around the island counter to give you a hug. You take a few steps forward as well, wrapping your arms around his neck as his slide around your waist. “It’s been too long,” you hum, beginning to pull away from the hug. Chris lets his hands linger on your hips for a few seconds before he takes a step back to grab his beer. “I know, I haven’t seen you since, what, two Christmases ago? How have you been, miss college graduate?” he asks, beaming with pride. “Really great. I’m glad to be home for a bit,” you reply.

Chris nods along. “It is nice being home,” he agrees thoughtfully, taking a sip of his beer. “So what’s the plan after your time off? You gonna be producing my next big movie?” He smirks at you, a brow cocked. “We’ll see,” you sigh. “I actually scored an internship at some obscure film company in the city.” “Are you serious? That’s awesome,” he comments excitedly. “It’s alright, nothing too amazing yet but we’ll get there,” you sigh. Chris shrugs, taking another swig of his beer. “We all start somewhere. Who knows? Soon, maybe you’ll be head of Columbia Pictures or something.” “You flatter me, Christopher,” you say, letting out a soft laugh as you make your way past Chris and over to the fridge for your own ice-cold beer. You crack it open with the bottle opener on the counter. “But I think you think too much of me.” Chris is already turned to face you, his elbow propped against the marble countertop. “It’s not flattery, it’s the truth,” he replies sweetly. “You were always writing those insanely good scripts for your school plays... Writing scenes just for Scott and me to perform, for no reason other than so you could feel for the fluidity of the story. You’re talented, Y/N, whether you think so or not.” You raise your brows at Chris, a delicate smile crossing your lips. “Thank you,” you say softly. He only nods. “Don’t thank me, I’m just giving you a reality check, Y/N,” he teases. You roll your eyes, but before you can open your mouth to speak, the sound of the sliding door being thrown open distracts you.

You glance over as your brother storms right in, without closing the door behind him, and he stops dead in his tracks, turning his head to glare directly at you. “Y/N, serious question for you: do you know how old half of the people here are? Because they’ve been crouched real low behind the bushes for, like, quite a bit, just waitin’ to surprise you!” Danny exclaims, glaring down at you. He turns to fire at Chris, who can’t help but let out a short snort at your brother’s over-the-top attitude. “And you! You’re nothing but a little enabler! Get your ass outside!” Danny hikes his thumb towards the back door and Chris, a massively goofy grin plastered on his face, suppresses a laugh as he waves you off and heads towards the door. “Sorry...” You can’t help the lingering grin on your face, though you truly are a tad sorry. “Don’t say sorry to me, say sorry to our arthritic grandfather,” he bites back, squinting at you as he ushers you around the island and out through the sliding door right after Chris. He keeps walking through the crowd of people and back over by where Dodger had chosen to lounge, in the shade under the oak tree with the swing tied to it.

A mess of family members, family friends, and your own hometown friends all leap out from behind the bushes, trees, and fence and scream collectively, “SURPRISE!” with a few stray “WELCOME HOME”‘s. You don’t even have to feign your look of surprise; you’re honestly shocked this many people missed you enough to come to your homecoming party. You let out a scream, laughing into your hands as you recover from your glee. “Oh my God!” you cry out. You glance back at your brother, who has an eyebrow cocked at you. You throw your arms around him happily, turning to wave to everyone as they shout hello’s and ‘we missed you’s. Your parents enter your line of vision with arms open for a hug and, of course, you hug them back. You snuggle between your mother and father in a sea of ‘I missed you’s and ‘I’m so glad you’re home’s. You finally pull away from them and, a soft grin on your face, begin to speak. “God, okay, I will talk to you guys later. I gotta talk to some of the guests,” you say softly. “Thank you... for doing this. It’s nice.” “Of course, of course. Go be a good host,” your mother teases pushing you out towards the party. Everyone had already gone back to their own personal conversations. Well, all except your childhood best friend, Talia. She’s standing there, audibly squealing and therefore effectively alerting you of her presence mere moments before her arms shoot around your shoulders. She’s got you trapped in one of her world-famous hugs. “Y/N!” she exclaims happily. You giggle, returning the gesture. “I missed you so much, Talia,” you exclaim. “I have a lot of juicy college-grade party shit to talk to you about.” “Shit, I... Shit... Can’t wait to....” she trails off. You cock an eyebrow at her, obviously perplexed by her out-of-character behavior. Talia has her eyes darting past you, though. She can’t stop glancing over your shoulder. “Did... did something happen with you and Chris recently?” she asks suspiciously. You eye your best friend with an equal amount of skepticism. “Uh, nothing I’m not aware of. Why?” “On your six... But don’t look too quickly. Make it look nonchalant!” she orders, rather loudly. You roll your eyes, peeking over your shoulder to see Chris eyeing you. His eyes are fixated on you in a way you’d never seen from him before- especially not directed at you. He gives you a soft, flirtatious smirk and, like the cherry on fucking top, winks. You give him a small smile before whirling your head back around to glare at Talia, brows furrowed. “What about him?” you ask. Talia slaps a hand over her forehead. “He’s been watching you this whole time, Danny had to come in to collect you because you were so enthralled in whatever conversation you two were having, he more-than-triple-checked the time of this party just to be sure he’d be here when you got here. He just fucking winked at you, Y/N, and he--” She’s counting each reason on her fingers as she goes. You hold a hand up, cutting her off before she can continue. “Talia, I know Chris more than anyone. He’s one of my best friends and I promise that he’s just a big flirt. He likes to flirt.” “I’m just saying, you two have always had such amazing chemistry that I’d be surprised if I didn’t get a Save the Date for your wedding in the next two years,” she snickers, taking a sip of whatever concoction she’d stirred up in her solo cup. “I still have that sketchbook where we drew up our own personal wedding plans. I could dust it off and hand it to Chris; he’d get the hint.”

You open your mouth to speak, but immediately bite your tongue as your brother’s arm slings around your shoulder. He leans against you, forcing you to lean a bit more to the right to keep straight. “We gossipin’?” he teases. Your roll your eyes, pushing his arm off of you. “Mind your business, Daniel,” Talia interjects. Danny feigns a look of pain, a hand to his chest. “But I’m sooo nosey... Please share?” You give Talia a pleading look and she takes the reigns, understanding fully. “She’s just pissed that her parents invited the Robinsons,” she snickers. You have to hand it to her, it’s believable.

Back in elementary school, you unashamedly beat up the eldest Robinson boy when he wouldn’t stop teasing you about your braces (yes, you had braces). He deserved it, yes, but you had broken the poor guy’s nose.

You nod along with Talia’s story, eyes darting over towards Chris once again. Danny eyes you suspiciously, fully aware of where your eyes are, but doesn’t comment on it. “Okaaaaaay,” he murmurs. “Well, I’m sure Eli Robinson isn’t planning on bullying you anymore, so buck up and talk to the rest of our guests!” “You never know. He might notice some teensy, tiny flaw, somehow, and start throwing hands,” Talia snickers. Danny rolls his eyes. He lets his arm drop from around your shoulders and calls Chris over. You glance over your shoulder as he gets up from the blue lawn chair slowly and starts heading over. Dodger pads up behind his master as he nears you. You whip your head back around to give Talia a pleading look, but she’s got her expectant eyes on Chris as he nears. ”Yes! Yes! Yes!” she squeals. “We haven’t gotten a chance to catch up with him yet!” No. No. No. No. No.

“Yeah?” Chris’s soft voice asks as he plants himself on your left. Your so-called best friend grins up at him like a fool as Danny, turning to Chris, begins to speak. “Can you babysit? Y/N’s afraid she’ll fistfight Eli if not properly supervised.” “Uh,” the blond glances down at you, a brow cocked as he takes a swig of his beer. “Yeah, I mean, any excuse to hang out with Y/N.” You shudder. Danny cocks an eyebrow. “This was supposed to be a punishment. I’m supposed to be killing two birds with one stone.” “What did I do?” Chris demands, raising his voice with a laugh. Talia still has that idiotic grin plastered on her face. It tells you that she remembers Chris and Danny’s banter just as vividly as you. “You’re sittin’ over there, obviously hung up on some mystery chick, and you won’t even tell me anything about her. You’ve been dropping vague comments about her for the past week and it’s getting annoying! Even Dodge’s pissed! Right?” You feel your heart drop as Danny glances down at Dodger and receives a sharp bark in response. “He said no,” Chris replies, obviously tense. “Well, Dodger is a compulsive liar. I don’t know why I looked to him in the first place,” Danny retorts. Chris rolls his eyes, easing back into a comfortable posture as your brother continues on. “If you’re not gonna tell me anything about the girl, drop any hints about Age of Ultron, or do sports with me, what’s the point of being bro’s with a famous guy?” he sneers teasingly, his voice dropping into his frat boy impression when he says ‘bro’.

They joked like this all the time, especially since Chris got launched into stardom. Really, they loved each other. They were best friends. Danny was one of the many people outside of his family that Chris felt kept him grounded. And, well, Danny joked that Chris was just another guy to slowly schmooze into buying him a car, ‘like those YouTuber kids do’.

“God, where would you be if I hadn’t made it big?” “Playing Captain America, probably,” “That right?” Chris quips. You sigh. “Yeah. And probably gettin’ the girl, unlike you.”

Chris shakes his head. “No, trust me, you wouldn’t want her.” Danny narrows his eyes at Chris, an uncomfortable silence hovering over the four of you. Dodger whines impatiently before he nuzzles up to your leg. You reach down to pat him gently before he prances off, probably to attend a more... jovial conversation.

“D-Danny’s just being an asshole, Chris,” you stammer, trying to smooth over how uncomfortable this encounter had become. Talia sees this and speaks up, “... And this asshole is gonna drive me to get more alcohol since I’m sorta drunk and he is not.” Before Danny can come up with any defense, Talia grabs him by the forearm and yanks him towards the side gate. You glance up at Chris. “Sorry,” you say softly. “You’re his baby sister. I get it. Remember how much I used to mess with Scotty back in the day?” He shrugs. You let out a soft laugh. “I don’t remember anything as vividly as I remember when you convinced him to pee his pants on the front lawn,” you tease. Chris groans audibly. “It was so mean,” he says, trying to remain serious despite his laughter.

He points down to your half-empty beer. “Want another?” he asks. You chug down the remainder of your drink and reply with a short, soft-spoken ‘yes’. He grins. “Attagirl.” You follow him through the crowd, weaving between conversation circles, and up onto the patio, both of you dropping your empty bottles into the recycling bin as you make your way over to the oversized cooler. Chris kneels down and peels it open. You follow suit and the two of you gaze into the ‘Adults-Only’ red cooler expectantly. “Pick your poison,” he says softly, reaching for another beer. You shake your head. “Nothing’s jumping out at me,” you sigh, shaking your head. Chris lets the cooler close with a soft thud. “Well, now we have some thinkin’ to do. What would you want to drink for your last meal?” You lean back slightly, taken aback by how quickly he’d turned the conversation into a hypothetical in which you were on death row. “Uhm,” you ponder this for a moment before responding. “Somethin’ much stronger than a measly 8% beer.” You run your fingertips along the circular curvature of the bottom of his beer bottle. You don’t mean for the gesture to be so... obscene, somehow, but it is. Chris’s cheeks flush red. He stumbles over his words for a moment. “Wh-W-Wh... What do you have in mind?” he asks, swallowing hard. You cock an eyebrow. The man who can’t be moved is running full-speed into whatever he thinks you have planned. “Whiskey,” you reply, taking a step back. You make your way past him, shoulders brushing as you head through the sliding door and into the kitchen. Chris follows, like a lost puppy.

You sashay around the island counter and find yourself a glass. “Want some?” you ask, glancing over at Chris as he closes the sliding door behind him. He nods, setting his beer down on the counter absentmindedly. You reach up for a second identical glass and make your way over to the small alcohol tray and peruse for the exact whiskey you're looking for. You pour Chris’s first and hand it to him before pouring your own. “Thank you,” he says softly, holding his glass up. You give him a lopsided smile as you clink your glass with his and you both down your drinks. You pour another for each of you. The combination of your first beer and a glass of whiskey sends a familiar warmth through your veins. You let out a shaky breath. “Can I ask you something without it coming off strange?” he asks softly. You gaze up at him as you lean forward on your elbows over the island counter. He stands still on the opposite side, between two of the barstools. “Maybe. Ask away.” “Do you have a boyfriend down in New York?” he asks. You feel your body tense up, but you don’t let your being caught off-guard show through. “No, I don’t,” you purr, doing your best to keep a poker face. “Is this... mystery gal anything serious?” Chris watches you for a long time, throwing back his second drink. “She could be,” he replies, swallowing rather hard. You shake your head. “Crying shame,” you reply, straightening out and finishing off your drink. You can hear the soft sounds of the Teskey Brothers playing even from inside the house. “Why’s that?” You ignore his question, moving right ahead with yours. “Do I know her?” “Who?” “The girl,” you reply suspiciously. Chris shakes his head. “If I won’t tell Danny, what makes you think that I’d tell you?” “Because I love my bother, but he’s an idiot and you know it.” Chris lets out a hearty laugh. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Yeah, you know her,” he says softly. You shake your head, smiling despite your heart aching. “Oh my God, just tell me already,” you practically beg. Chris sighs, setting down his glass with resignation. “She... I don’t think I should...” he says softly. “I don’t know if I’m ready for everyone to know about it yet. I’m not sure it’ll happen.” You gaze up at Chris with resignation. You know you’re not gonna get an answer out of him, so you yield. “I bet. Well, I’m gonna head back out, okay? I really don’t want a babysitter all day,” you reply sharply, not really listening when Chris retorts with some silly comment.

...

The homecoming party goes on for a few more hours before people start saying their goodbyes. You try not to make it obvious, but you are overjoyed that you get to sleep in your old bed again. You see Talia chatting with Danny in the hallway by the bathroom and you, without another word, shut the door behind Mrs. Robinson and make your way upstairs. You drag your feet somewhat as you make your way down the familiar hallway and finally stop in front of your old bedroom door. It’s cracked open slightly and your bedside lamp is on, to your surprise, so you push the door open a little further to see Chris gazing down into one of your photo albums. “You lost?” you singsong. Chris jumps about ten feet into the air, spinning around to face you. “S-Sorry, Y/N, I just... I remembered you had these. I should’ve asked, I know, but--” You hold a hand up to cut him off as you move to sit on your bed. “You’re acting so jumpy, Chris...” you comment. He sighs, shutting the dark blue photo album and pushing it back into its spot on the shelf. “I guess I am,” he agrees, sitting on the bed beside you. He’s silent for some time after that, gazing at his shoes as though they were the most interesting things in the world. You nudge his shoulder with yours to get his attention. He glances up at you and gives you a soft smile. “What’s up? C’mon, talk to me,” you say. “What do you mean?” “Don’t play stupid. I’ve known you my whole life.”

He nods. “Yeah...” “So tell me what’s been on your mind,” you say, laying a head on his shoulder. “I’m a really good listener, I promise.” Chris gives you a look, his breath hitching in his throat for a moment. “This girl, I’ve known her forever. Hell, I’ve liked her like this for a few years now. I’m just afraid it’ll--” “Ruin it if she doesn’t feel the same,” you sigh. Chris nods as his fingers lace in yours. It surprises you, but you don’t comment on it. You don’t want to spoil the moment. “Exactly...” he breathes. You watch his chest rise and fall rhythmically. Your heart rate rises steadily. “She probably does,” you say simply. Chris glances down at you. “What do you mean?” “There’s no reason she wouldn’t like you, Chris. You’re a sweet, funny, talented mama’s boy who believes in equality. Also, you’ve got a great ass and you play Captain America. If Tumblr loves you, then chances are she will, too,” you say thoughtfully, doing your best not to stumble over your words. Chris doesn’t say anything for a long time. He turns to face you a little more, one leg folded on the bed and the other over the edge of the bed. “Y/N,” he says softly. You mirror his position, your knee pressed against his. “Yes?” “Can I do something stupid right now?” he asks. He’s nervous. You’d never seen him this way before. “Maybe,” you reply, a sly grin on your face. Chris leans forward, eyes fluttering shut. You close yours as well, leaning in for a moment you’d only admitted to Talia about dreaming of. Your lips inches from one another’s, he pauses. ”You’re okay with this?” he asks. You nod. “I’m gonna need you to use your words, little lady.” ”Yes,” you reply firmly. Chris’s hand is on your cheek in an instant, steadying himself as he presses a kiss to your lips. Your arms shoot around his neck, his scruff scaping gently at your soft skin as you kiss him back, your entire body heating up. You feel Chris’s heart pounding against his skin as you press your chest flush against his. Just when his hands slide down to your waist, you begin to feel his innate dominance take over. He pushes you down onto your back, onto the bed. His hands slowly make their way up from your hips to your hair, which he tugs rather aggressively. But you’re no sooner pried apart by the sound of Danny’s voice echoing down the hall, Talia’s giggling along. Chris sits up straight, hands folded on his lap. You reel back into reality and leap forward for the photo album. You flip it open to a random page as you sit back down beside Chris, feigning a laugh. Chris understands and relaxes, pointing to a picture and asking some dumb question. Talia and Danny make their way over to your bedroom and stand in the doorway like proud parents. “Wouldja look at ‘em?” she hums. “Seems like just yesterday he was spraying her with a hose while she was wearing a white t-shirt.” “That was her to him, Daniel,” Talia snickers. “God, you’re the worst,” you glower, narrowing your eyes at Dennis the Menace as an all-powerful duo. “We can hear you,” Chris comments. “No dip, doofus,” Talia giggles. “Get out of my room, Danny!” you exclaim, getting to your feet. “I’m not in your room, Y/N!” Danny shouts back in a mocking tone, pointing down at the floor around your doorframe. “This is your room.” “Mooooom!” you roar, stomping your foot. “Daniel!” your mother calls from somewhere in the house. “I’m not in her room!?” “Danny, listen to your mother!” Mr. (Y/L/N) shouts from his bedroom, just down the hall. “Alright! Alright! I yield!” Danny cries, taking another step back. “Talia and I were just wondering if you guys wanted to go out back and start a bonfire. There are a lot of people from high school who couldn’t make it to dinner that wanted to see you today.”

You glance over at Chris and he shrugs. “You gonna stay?” “Yeah, sure. I’ll get Scott and Carly to come back,” he says, pulling his phone from his back pocket. You glance up at your brother, slamming the photo album shut. “Sure,” you reply. Danny nods and heads out down the hall, already sending out a mass text. But Talia doesn’t move. “Holy fucking shit,” she says softly. You cock an eyebrow at her before following her line of sight to Chris’s... ahem... prominent erection. Chris glances up, confused at first, but soon a realization washes over him. He yanks the photo album from you and presses it over his crotch sheepishly. “Please don’t tell Danny,” he begs.

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steves-legs · 6 years

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Honest (Peter Parker x Reader)

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Summary: Peter Parker, the Amazing Spider-Man, had nerves of steel behind the mask. He was able to defeat horrible villains, swing from impossible heights, and do the impossible. But without the suit, without the mask, he can’t even tell his best friend that he’s in love with her. Maybe it’s her beauty, her confidence, or the possibility of losing her altogether if he admits his feelings, but he just can’t bring himself to do it. His hesitation also most definitely has something to do with the fact that she’s Flash’s little sister.

Characters: Peter Parker, Y/N Thompson, Ned Leeds, Flash Thompson, Molly Owen (OC), Liz Toomes, May Parker,

A/N: there is a little reference to one of Robert Downey Jr.’s old roles in here ;)

You had always been close with Peter Parker and Ned Leeds. You remembered Peter being there when you broke your arm after Flash had pushed you off of your bike. May had Peter deliver a batch of your favorite cookies to your home the day after, even though they had nothing to do with the incident. You remembered Ned fending off the playground bullies for you in third grade when your brother wouldn’t. When you discovered that your two closest friends were also best friends (small world, am I right?), you three became inseparable.

As the years went on and the three of you started high school, the friendship only strengthened as an idea of watching movies together had turned into a weekly tradition. At first, the two boys would make their way to your house, but once Mrs. Thompson got a new job that kept her busy during the weekends, her brother had made it a point to bully the three of you incessantly; so much so that the weekly movie marathon was moved to Ned’s.

In school, you had achieved the status of, ‘Miss Popularity’; a moniker that Ned teased you about to the point of claiming you had become too cool to hang out with the likes of their ‘league of nerds’, but you paid no mind, usually retaliating with some pop culture reference, which Peter tended to fall to his knees for. As stated before, you three were inseparable.

But lately, Peter had been acting... strange. You couldn’t really place a finger on it, but he’d been spending a lot less time ogling Liz... and he’d skipped the past month of Saturday night movie marathons. Whenever Saturday rolled around, and you were on your way to the Leeds’ house, you would receive a text from Peter letting you know that he would be unable to You’d questioned Ned about it on more than one occasion, but every time he just laughed it off.

“Pigeons learn faster than you,” he’d said once. You hit him over the head with a rolled-up magazine for that one.

• • • • • • • • • •

Sitting on the bleachers with your headphones tucked in your ears and a bag of carrots resting on your knees, you reached into your backpack for your copy of The Motion of Life in Water. You’d told your usual group of lunch buddies that you had to study, which was a lie, but you didn’t feel too guilty for it. You munched in silence, reading with soft music playing. You bobbed your head from side to side slightly, completely closed off from the outside world. But as the song’s tempo increased, the feeling of your right earbud being yanked out startled you. Turning your head quickly to shout at whoever dared disrupt you, your eyebrows rose up in surprise as the sight of Peter Parker greeted you. His boyish face had been on your mind a lot as his absence was a noticeable one.

In a moment of unfiltered frustration, you smacked him across the thigh with the paperback book.

“Peter, what the hell!?” you shouted. He sat on your left, grinning from ear to ear.

“Jeez, Y/N, sorry! I just wanted to know what you’re listening to,” he said, listening in on your music. “Ah, not a bad choice.” He smiled, inserting the earbud fully.

“You’re just saying that ‘cause you showed it to me, Petey,” you said. “So where have you been lately?”

“Wh-What do you mean?” he asked nervously, cocking an eyebrow as he offered you a strawberry. You offered him a carrot in return.

“You skipped all of our John Hughes movie nights! It’s so unlike you, Pete, to skip Weird Science?“

“I don’t even like Weird Science, Y/N. Ian reminds me a little too much of--”

“Mr. Stark, I know. I get it. You’re basically an Avenger now,” you rolled your eyes. “I bet you haven’t even met any of them, other than Iron Man.”

One of the few topics of discussion that always seemed to come up was Peter’s internship with Stark Industries. Ever since the Stark Convention in 2010, Peter had become enamored with the Iron Man. It was only fitting that the man that saved Pete’s life would end up choosing him as an intern.

“Y-Yeah...” Peter said softly, smiling down at his feet for some reason.

“But hey,” you began. He looked at you, his brown eyes searching your face. You didn’t catch on, but he looked at you with longing.

“Do you think you could get Spider-Man to sign something for me?” you asked giddily. “Not to totally take advantage of your situation, but he’s awesome.” Peter’s cheeks flushed bright pink.

“Wh-Wh-What m-makes you say that?” he asked, brows furrowed. You gave him a strange look, smiling.

“I dunno, he’s probably the only Avenger who hasn’t left anyone dead on the streets. He’s all for the little guy,” you explained.

“But what if he’s, like, super ugly under the mask? Like, horrifically burned or something?” a detached voice asked. You and Peter glanced over to see Molly, one of your friends, nearing with Liz and your brother not far behind. Flash smirked at her comment.

“I bet he’s definitely got some horrible skin deformity,”

“What, like Deadpool?” you asked as they stopped short in front of you and Peter on the bleachers.

“Yeah! God, what if he’s some geek with pimples and shit?” Flash agreed.

“Okay, well first off, Flash, who invited you into this conversation?” you asked, grinning slyly. He glared at you.

“Y/N, don’t be so anal, alright? You’re having a public conversation with Penis Parker. Are you seriously gonna get mad at me for wanting to be involved?” Flash retorted. You’d already had your fill of his attitude for the day, so you pulled out your left earbud and folded your arms over your chest. Peter, Liz, and Molly collectively held their breath.

“No, you can’t. See, you wouldn’t know this, pretty boy, but you wouldn’t have to rely so heavily on your physical appearance if you were actually a nice guy. But no, you wake up three hours before school to style your fucking hair because there’s nothin’. Going. On. Upstairs,” you said, tapping your temple to express just how much you meant what you said. He looked somewhat embarrassed because of Peter’s laughter. Liz groaned at the conflict in general. You pursed your lips to keep from laughing along, high fiving Peter. Flash huffed, crossing his arms and storming off.

“Nice, Y/N. Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Molly snickered, she and Liz taking the seats below you and Peter.

“Y/N, Flash does kinda have a point, though. You’ve gotta shut up about this Spider-person! What if he is actually a she? What if you’re obsessing over some totally hot crime-fighting vigilante chick?” Molly proposed.

“Spider-Man.... is a man... Because he calls himself Spider-Man,” Peter commented defensively.

“I love him,” you joked, earning laughter from Liz.

“Well, if what Ned said in gym class the other day was true, then Peter does know Spider-Man,” she said, motioning toward Peter. “Why don’t you hook them up?” Molly nodded vigorously.

“I... I barely know the guy,” Peter said bleakly, swallowing hard. You poked his arm softly, making him jolt slightly.

“I... know... when... you’re... lying, Petey,” you teased. “But don’t worry. I won’t ask you to introduce me to your new web-slinging buddy,” You laid your head on his shoulder. “It’d be too awkward, anyway.” You closed your eyes, putting your earbud back in. If you hadn’t closed your eyes, you would’ve seen the way Peter’s face turned beet red. You would’ve seen how Liz raised an eyebrow at his reaction to your affection, and you would’ve seen the shit-eating grin on Molly’s face.

It seemed that everyone knew but you.

• • • • • • • • • •

You whistled along to the radio as you danced around your room, reading from your textbook after school that Friday. No clubs or plans, so the rest of your day was open. You were home alone that evening; Flash had a date (so he most likely wouldn’t be back until the next morning) and your parents both worked, so the music was rather loud.

The sun had begun to set and when you looked out the window, you saw the beautiful city skyline and the outline of Stark Tower in front of the orange-colored sky. It felt peaceful and safe being close enough to see the building, but far enough away that if the sky were to open up again, you’d be safe from harm for a little longer. You tossed your textbook onto your bed, climbing in after it. You propped your feet up against the wall your twin bed touched, your mind wandering from seeing the Chitauri attack on the news to Peter’s internship. What exactly did it entail anyway? Why did he disappear so often as of late? Why did he act so secretive about the internship, especially towards you? You’d never told anyone any of his secrets, so why was this one that he wanted to keep from you? All questions with no answer.

Being home alone could only be fun for so long, so you decided to text your group chat with Peter and Ned to see what they were up to.

Y/N: Guys, I’m dying of boredom over here. What’re you up to?

Nedward 🤠: Hanging out at home. Was just about to text u.

Y/N: Petey

Y/N: Peter Benjamin Parker, wya sis?

Y/N: Where is he tho

Nedward 🤠: I dunno should we be worried? Usually the second your name pops up on his phone hes jumping for it like it’s a life raft and hes in the middle of the ocean

Y/N: Don’t exaggerate. We should totally surprise him at home. He’s probably asleep. Or doing homework

Nedward 🤠: What kind of loser does homework on a Friday? I have to help mom with dinner. I’ll see if I can come later on though?

Y/N: Peter. Peter does homework on a Friday. And me. I do homework on Fridays. Don’t judge. I’m gonna text May and head over

Nedward 🤠: Ok let me know if he’s dead

• • • • • • • • • •

You knocked softly on the door to May’s apartment.

“One second!” her sweet voice called. You heard hurried footsteps make their way over and she pulled the door open. She saw your face and hers lit up like a kid’s on Christmas.

“Y/N! I was worried something happened. What took you so long to get here?” she asked, sounding a lot like your mother. You grinned sheepishly, holding up a bag from Delmar’s deli.

“I got you guys sandwiches,”

“Oh, you’re such a sweetheart!” she took the bag from you, giving you a tight hug and pulling you inside.

“Delmar asked about you again,” you teased. May rolled her eyes, handing you the sandwich marked #5 and the two bags of sour gummy worms.

“Oh, shush. You sound just like Peter. He’s in his room,” May said, heading back over to her desk. You made your way across the living room, knocking on Peter’s bedroom door. No answer. You opened the door slowly, peeking in to see him fast asleep on top of the covers on his bed. Shirtless. Funny. You grinned, letting yourself in and shutting the door behind you.

“Wake up, sleepyhead. I got you dinner,” you said, setting his food down on the nightstand. You sat beside his sleeping body but immediately gasped at the sight. His upper torso was marred with cuts and bruises of all shapes and sizes; your heart sinking as a particularly angry looking bruise drew your attention. You didn’t recall Peter having so many cuts and bruises on his body. It looked as though he’d been through a war. You reached out to brush your fingers through his unkempt locks with concern. He had a small cut on his forehead as well. Your fingers on his skin woke him in an instant. He sat up with a start, grabbing your wrist in panic. He let out a loud sigh of relief.

“Oh, Y/N, it’s just you. How long--” he yawned, letting go of your arm-- “how long have you been here?” He pulled one of those science pun shirts on over his injuries, groaning slightly. You didn’t comment on it.

“I just got here...” you said, taking a look around. His room was a mess. It had taken you being there to realize just how long it had been since you’d actually been in his room. Sure, you spent your weekends out in the living room during your sleepovers with Ned and occasionally Molly or even May, but you hadn’t been in his room in months. You stood, making your way over to his desk.

“What’s all this?” you asked, gesturing to the odd-looking tech blueprints. They looked familiar somehow.

“J-Just stuff for Mr. Stark. And a little bit of schoolwork mixed in,” Peter leaped off the bed, joining you in looking at the blueprints for a second before he hurriedly smashed all of the papers into one of the drawers. You spun around, leaning against the desk looking at his room from a new angle.

“I haven’t been in here in a while,” you commented. Peter had his hand on the desk, his thumb brushing against your left pinky.

“Yeah, it has been a while hasn’t it?” he agreed. You gestured towards his dinner.

“You gonna eat?” Peter moved away from you in an instant, going for the gummy worms.

“Thanks a ton, Y/N. I can pay you back,” he offered, sitting back on his bed. He tossed you the second bag of gummy worms. For a moment, things felt normal. Peter had that glow in his eyes back, but the strange cuts and bruises on his body worried you endlessly. You didn’t want to address it, for fear that he would just close back up again.

You sat at his desk, spinning in his rolling chair. You wheeled over to him and put your feet up on the bed.

“Don’t worry about it, Petey.” You smiled at him and he gave you a sweet look. You watched him for a long time, still debating on whether or not you’d bother to ask what was up.

But you did anyway.

“Are you okay lately?” you asked. Peter looked at you nervously.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’ve been acting super... distant lately. Even when you’re around, it’s like your mind is somewhere else. I’m just sorta worried, is all. Is it the internship or... Liz?” you asked, feeling a strange jealousy in your gut when you brought up his ever-present (so it seemed) crush.

“Everything’s fine!” Peter said a little too quickly and he knew it. “It’s got nothing to do with Liz.”

“So it’s the internship?”

“I... I guess. Partially?” Peter said, recoiling. You rolled your eyes, feet hitting the floor as you stood.

“Peter, you can’t lie to me anymore. You’re covered in all these bruises and cuts, it’s terrifying me. I can’t be in the dark just because you’re afraid of what I’ll think! I’m so worried for you,” you admitted, still holding the open bag of gummy worms in your hand. Peter set his bag down, sighing.

“Okay, okay... I... I was keeping it a secret because I don’t want you to ever risk you getting hurt because of me,” he began. You listened expectantly.

“I’m--”

He paused.

The faint sound of his watch beeping frantically sent Peter into a frenzy. He brushed past you, tearing his shirt and pants off in a hurry.

“Wh-What are you doing--...” You trailed off when Peter pulled the familiar suit up his legs. He slapped his chest, the suit suctioning to his body.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he said through the mask. The Spider-Man. You were too stunned to respond. “Mr. Stark needs me... I... I’m sorry.”

Your brows furrowed, trying to absorb the situation as he threw his window open and disappeared into the city streets. You could hear the sounds of gunfire from his bedroom as you ran to the window, leaning out to watch him swing around the corner. Hell.

You did the only thing you could think of and called Ned.

“Hey, Y/N, what’s up? Is Pete ok?”

“He’s fucking Spider-Man!” you whisper-yelled, climbing out onto the fire escape outside Peter’s window.

“...I know.” Ned answered. You slammed the window shut and climbed down the ladder, cradling your phone between your ear and your shoulder.

“Excuse me, WHAT? You knew and didn’t tell me!?”

“He didn’t want anyone to know.”

“Why? Why do you know then?” you demanded.

“He came crawling into his room in the suit when I went over a while ago,” Ned replied sheepishly. You let go of the ladder when you got to the bottom, landing on the street below. “Did you just climb out the fire escape?”

“I can’t face May’s questioning! Does she know!?”

“No, she doesn’t know!” Ned exclaimed. You rolled your eyes at his dramatic response. You groaned. “How’d you find out?”

“His stupid beeper thing went off. I’m guessing it’s connected to Mr. Stark’s Life Alert necklace or something, you said, rounding the corner in the direction you saw Peter go.

“Y/N, where are you going?”

“Just waiting outside for the little fucker to come back and explain himself,” you lied.

“Y/N,” Ned warned. “Stay put. He’ll be devastated if you get hurt.”

Ned had a point. You leaned against the brick walls of Peter’s apartment building.

“Fine...” you said softly. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Be safe,” Ned answered before hanging up. You groaned, running your fingers through your hair. You had no idea how long you’d have to wait.

• • • • • • • • • •

“Y/N... you’re still here,” Peter’s detached voice said softly. You looked up from your shoes to see him standing there, still in the suit and all. He took a few steps closer to you and under the harsh streetlights, you saw his suit was torn, he had fresh wounds and a slight limp. He reached out a hand to help you stand regardless of the pain he was definitely in.

“Yeah, well, I’m persistent,” you joked as you got to your feet. Peter didn’t say anything, only watched you shiver against the cold.

“Y/N, why’d you wait out here?”

“I panicked... and the fire escape ladder’s too high up for me to reach...”

“Wanna... wanna come back inside?”

“Pete, why didn’t you tell me? Why weren’t you just honest with me?” you demanded, ignoring his question. Peter shrugged his shoulders, speaking through the mask.

“Wow, this feels surprisingly easier when you can’t see my face--”

“Peter.”

“Okay, okay... I didn’t want to risk you ever, ever getting involved in something I can’t get you out of. I want you to live a normal life, even if that means I disappear from it,” he reasoned. Your heart sank, but you crossed your arms.

“Why? Why does it matter so much? Ned knows.”

“Because... you’re not Ned. Not like he’s more replaceable or anything, but you’re my favorite girl. I want to be the one that makes your day, Y/N. I’m pretty sure that you’re Spidey’s number-one fan and I’m yours,” Peter paused.

You felt a smile creep up on your face as he continued. “I’ve seen you date guys that, yeah, they’ve made your heart melt and they’ve made you happy, but I don’t think that they’re right for you. It’s selfish, but I think you were made for me. You’re the most beautiful girl in the entire world. It bothers me a lot that I haven’t been the kind of guy you want, the kind that breaks your heart and makes you cry.” You raised your eyebrows but didn’t say anything for a moment. You slung his arm over your shoulder and walked him down the empty street, toward the fire escape. You finally spoke.

“You don’t think I was crying out here, worried that you’d get hurt? You don’t think I wanted to cry every time you talked about Liz? God, take this damn thing off,” you groaned, grabbing the mask and pulling it up off of his head. His tousled locks draped over his forehead and you saw a bruise forming over his right eye. You gasped, holding the mask over your lips.

“Peter...”

He shrugged.

“Gotta protect the city, right?”

“God, from what?” Your eyes widened.

“Some guy in a green goblin suit, I guess. The city’s full of crazies,” Peter answered. He grinned slyly. “Hey, wanna do something awesome? It’ll make me feel so cool, and I know you’ve dreamed of a moment like this.”

“Sure, Spidey,” you said. Peter took back the mask, pulling it over his head ‘just in case May had gone to investigate the silence’. He put an arm around your waist and shot a web up toward his windowsill. The two of you were practically catapulted up onto the fire escape.

“Holy hell, that was amazing!” you exclaimed, grinning. Peter’s eyes glinted at your reaction.

“Maybe sometime I can take you around the city.”

Peter climbed into his room, you following slowly. He changed out of the suit as you sat on his bed. He pointed to the nightstand.

“Can you get the first aid kit out of that top drawer?” he asked, pulling on sweatpants and carrying a t-shirt over to sit beside you. You did as you were asked and opened it.

“You don’t have to--”

“Yeah, I do. You won’t be able to reach some of these anyhow,” you interjected, pressing a few gauze pads to a laceration on his arm.

“Have you done this before?”

“Mom’s a registered nurse, remember?”

“Right, my bad,” Peter smiled. You cleaned his smaller wounds with care; it didn’t take long for your Spider-Man to be all patched up. You pressed a gentle kiss on his shoulder.

“You know something?” he began, looking at you affectionately.

“I know some things, yes, but you can educate me if you want.”

“I know it’s really cliche, but I think I’m better when I’m with you. I, like, worry when you’re not around,” Peter admitted.

“I like it when you say things like that,” you replied, leaning close to his face. He rested a hand carefully on your cheek, pressing your foreheads together.

“You’re not afraid to be in my life, knowing what you do now?”

“I never was.”

Then Peter kissed your parted lips feverishly, passionately, with his fingers in your hair. He wasn’t wrong, it was cliche but it was happiness. And it was real.

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