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#peter parker angst
losttinwritings · 4 hours ago
Writing To The Void 🌾 Chapter 14
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peter parker x oc story
SUMMARY: A series of letters written to Peter Parker, from his girlfriend while he was stuck in the soul stone.
A-N: ok ngl i liked how the start was coming along. But then i felt like i kinda rushed the last half of it lol. Hopefully it makes sense though
[series masterlist]
[twelve, thirteen]
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Dear Peter
Another two months have gone by already, and no matter how many days I have to go without being by your side. Without seeing your face. The pain is still there, not as unbearable and horrible as it once was. But it's still there, and hell I'm surprised It hasn't caused me to go insane or to break down in public yet. Sometimes I still wonder what it would be like if you were still here. If that day, you hadn't like many others, disappeared.
Would we be fine? What would we be doing together right now? I'd like to think we would be hanging out in your bedroom, either watching Star Wars or just hanging out while your Aunt May comes in every hour or so to bring us snacks or to just check on us. But we aren't, and how i miss those days. Where it's simply just you and me, with all our worries simply thrown out a window as we just spend time together.
Sierra dropped her pen onto her bedsheets, a single strand of brown hair falling into her face as she stared at the paper down in front of her. She didn't know what was with her today, she could not seem to find the words to write into the next letter to Peter. It was like everything that she wanted to say at that moment had simply left her mind. And it bothered her a lot. She's never had this trouble before when she wrote the previous letters, every thing that seemed to flow out of her and onto the page in bursts of emotion as soon as she would touch her pen to the paper. It seemed to not be there today.
She glanced briefly at the shoebox, filled to the brim with the previous loose letters and then at the one in front of her. As she gently chewed on her lip, simply confused. What did she want to write? Why wasn't anything coming to her like it it usually would? the thoughts quickly crossed her mind but she shook them away. Perhaps I'm just hungry or thirsty, that should help...right?
Sierra gently lifted herself from her bed and onto the carpeted ground of her bedroom. She glanced into the mirror which sat opposite her bed and beside her desk briefly. Her eyes took in the bags underneath her eyelids from lack of sleep before they moved across to the makeup situated atop her vanity when something caught her eye. The mismatched pieces of lipstick and other beauty products sat there waiting to be used, but that wasn't what she was looking at.
No, instead it was much rather the small jagged piece of glass which sat on the vanity's surface. She hesitated for a moment, before walking over and reaching over and hovering her hand above the small shard. It was like she felt some kind of pull to it in that moment. As if she felt the need to drag it along her arm and draw as much blood as she could. In order toctake away the pain of losing her boyfriend. She wasn't sure why though considering she'd never really been that depressed to even think about harming herself at all. But here she was. The thoughts were as clear as day, and she didn't even know if it was just the grief she's been feeling which was getting to her head or not.
"Sierra! dinner!" The sound of her mother could be heard shouting from downstairs. Which snapped the brunette out of the sort of trance she'd been placed in then. All the thoughts and the slight tugging she felt towards the shard of glass disappeared in an instant. As she managed to turn herself around and walk out her bedroom door without a glance back.
She carefully made her way down the stairs and onto the first floor of their home, hearing the the talkative voices of her family getting settled down to eat in the dining room. When she made it in, she found herself sitting down on one of wooden dining chairs opposite her older brother. The smell of steak, vegetables and gravy filled her nostrils as she sat there. She found herself glancing towards her parents and brother who were all seated around her, as she picked her cutlery up slowly.
"How was school?" Her father asked, after a few moments of awkward silence between the four. As he tried to make atleast some conversation with his family. Sierra shrugged lazily, it was the same as always in her opinion. Her routine hadn't changed since that day, she still only hung around Eleanor. With also Brayden added into their friendship group now. She didn't really feel the need to tell her dad that though. So she didn't.
The girl poked around her food with her fork, taking small bites every so often. Her intention clear on trying to avoid as much eye contact and talking to her family as possible through dinner. She probably would have eaten in her room if she could, not that she would've eaten much in the first place though.
Sure she did miss those nights where they used to hang out and talk amongst themselves as a family. But it felt different now, with everything that had happened with all these people who had suddenly disappeared off the face of the earth. It of still felt more awkward now at dinnertime and she still didn't think it would change atleast, even after it happened like a year. Well maybe not to her though. Despite, herself kind of coming back to her normal self, if you counted smiling again that.
Eventually, dinner came to an end and Sierra found herself pushing her chair back from the table and standing up. She said a mumbled good night to her family members, took her plate back into the kitchen for either her mother or father to wash up. Before hurriedly rushing back up the stairs, to go back to her room. Where she hopefully could finish the next letter, she wanted to keep writing then. Now that she'd gotten atleast some food into her stomach.
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[next chapter]
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starknik22 · 8 hours ago
Where We Rot: Chapter 4—Let Me Let You Go
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Summary: Bucky is the worst BEST at interrogating, Tony actually feels emotions and shit, Steve, once again, follows his moral compass, and Peter is a little fluff ball that likes planning date nights.
Word Count: 5.1k
Warnings: Swearing, hints to depression, hints to an ED
a/n: a lot of what’s in this chapter actually wasn’t suppose to exist lol. i kinda planned fewer chapters, but since this chapter had so many added scenes i decided to just essentially create a whole extra chapter :/ hope you enjoy and please let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for this or any of my future works! <3
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist 
“Buck, you don’t have to go with us, y’know. I know how hard this has been on you.” Natasha placed a comforting hand on the super soldier’s shoulder. 
“No, I want to see her.” Bucky confirmed, nodding. “It’ll help with my closure.” 
Natasha nodded, and her and Bucky made their way down to the interrogation room. Peter, Steve, and Tony were all already down there, dreading the process of questioning that would soon come. 
“Queens, you should go back home.” Steve said, sitting in the chair next to Peter on the other side of the one-way mirror, as they watched you with your head down on the metal table in the adjacent room.
“No, I want to be here, Mr. Rogers. I deserve answers.” Peter’s eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. He sniffled every now and again and winced whenever he saw your anger get the best of you and you’d throw the oatmeal or soup that gave you at the glass, hoping to shatter it. 
You always got the angriest when Tony would enter the room for the interrogation. You would spit at him and thrash around. On one occasion, you even bit him when he reached across the table for a pen. Steve was the gentlest with you, but still, he received no answers. 
Natasha was the harshest. She’d yell and threaten, but you remained stoic. Peter never went in. He just watched on the other side and when it got too harsh, he’d go up to his room in the compound and cry. 
Bucky wanted a turn to interrogate; he felt like with your shared experience of HYDRA, he could get a better understanding and get more answers. He was sorely wrong.
“(Y/N)?” Bucky sat across from you, manilla folder on the table in front of him. “I know it’s hard to get away from HYDRA. Maybe you feel like they’ll always find you or that you’ll always have this part of you that—”
“I’m not brainwashed.” You stated, interrupting him. “I have my reasons.” 
“Okay well… then what are they?” He tried, “I remember your mother, but I don’t think I recall ever seeing you around.” 
“I stayed away from the brainwashed assassins. I didn’t like how helpless they looked.” Bucky nodded and wrote something down in the folder. 
“Okay um, what is your exact parentage? Ophelia is your mother and your father…”
“Out of the picture.” 
Bucky wrote another note down, just happy to at least be getting a few answers, no matter how little they helped.
“Do you know where the closest base is?” 
“Can you tell us?”
“You’re shit at interrogating, you know that?” You tilted your head. Bucky frowned but continued to press on. 
“(Y/N), I think—”
“I don’t care what you think.” You snapped, “I’m tired. I’d like to go back to my cell now.”
Bucky sighed but nodded and left the room, taking the folder with him.
“You okay?” Steve asked, patting his friend’s back. 
“Yeah, she’s a tough one though.”
“Yeah, she’s giving me a real hard time too,” Natasha frowned, “I’ll go in next.”
“She said she’s tired and wants to go back to her cell.” Bucky informed the group. 
Tony chuckled, “Well she’s not exactly in the position to back demands.” 
“Maybe I could try?” Peter spoke up, prompting the attention of all the Avengers. “I-I want to talk to her.” 
All of the Avengers looked at each other, each having silent conversations with their eyes. “Uh, well, if you think you’re up for it, kid.” Tony patted his back, giving him a small smile. “But the second it gets too much, you’re out of there.” Tony snapped his fingers and pointed behind him “Kapeesh?”
“Yes, sir.” Peter nodded, taking the folder from Bucky.
Peter entered the room when you had your head down. You didn’t lift your head assuming it was Natasha here to rough you up again. Peter cleared his throat, causing you to snap your head up.
“What are you doing here?” You frowned, “You need to leave.” 
“No (Y/N), I want answers.” Peter sat across from you. “I deserve them the most.” 
“I wish I could go back to that night.” You sighed, “I wish I treasured my time with you more, especially since I knew it was limited.”
“But above all, I wish things could be normal, just for a little while. I think I could really love you, y’know?” You frowned, “I’m sorry, I really am. I never wanted to hurt you, but there is so much you still don’t know—”
“Then tell me!” Peter slammed his hand on the table, denting it, “Stop lying and just tell me.” 
You remained quiet, staring at the broken boy in front of you, the one that you rolled over with your darkness and turned grey.
“I’m sorry,” Peter mumbled, running a hand through his hair. “I-I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”
“It’s alright.” You smiled sadly, “We both know I’ve done worse.”
Your “cell” was actually a pretty nice room. It had a queen-sized bed pushed up against the far side of the wall, an overhead light with a fan, and a nightstand with a small table side lamp. You didn’t know this, but Stark wanted to put you in one of his nicer guest rooms, just placing an enhancement-resistant lock on the door so you couldn’t escape. If you closed your eyes and tried really, really hard, you could almost believe you weren’t being kept prisoner.
Food was usually brought to the interrogation room for you. Every morning around 8 o’clock, Steve would wake you up and take you down to the bleak, grey-walled room where you’d spend most of your day being questioned. Steve always brought you oatmeal or cereal in the morning. You ate it about 4 out of 10 times, but most days the questioning would get on your nerves, and in a fit of anger you’d throw the bowl at the glass window or at the security locked door. 
Tony brought cheeseburgers for you almost every afternoon. He never stayed long, considering you’d cuss him out to leave, but he always left the burger on the table for you. The petty part you always throw it back at the door after him, uneaten.
If you weren’t being questioned, you were laying in your bed, staring up at the ceiling, wondering if your mother was even looking for you. Peter hasn’t been at the compound for nearly two weeks and you couldn’t escape the feeling of dread that lodged itself in your heart. Your mother always followed through, it’s the one thing you used to admire about her the most, and now it'd be your one love’s undoing. 
You could feel yourself getting weaker, without the food you needed or the training you always endured, you could feel yourself wanting to sleep more and talk less.
“(Y/N)?” Peter knocked on the other side of the door. “Can I come in?” It’d been so long since you heard his voice or seen his puppy dog eyes. He hadn’t visited you since the first interrogation he conducted. You couldn’t blame him though. You practically took his innocence whilst plotting to murder him, so it made sense that he’d want to keep his distance from you.
You didn’t respond, you just rolled over on your side to face the wall rather than the boy who you just knew wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer here.
“I-I’m gonna come in, okay? Please don’t attack me.” Peter hesitantly opened the door and peeked his head in, eyes turning sad once he saw how frail you had become. You were always a bit scruffy looking, with all your bruises and scars, but you were always able to hide that under baggy clothes and makeup. But now, here you were, in a tank top Natasha lent you—that was objectively too big— and pajama pants left in the room by Mr. Stark. 
“Hey.” Peter closed the door behind him, locking it back up with his workers ID. “Um, I brought you some food. Mr. Stark said you haven’t been eating much, so I brought you Delmar’s.” He held the brown paper bag up and shook it a bit. He frowned when you remained silent. 
“I’ll leave if you want, but you need to eat, (Y/N). You’re skin and bones.” Peter began unpacking the sandwich. “It’s a number five, with pickles and smushed down real flat. The same kind we shared that one time.” He smiled at the memory, sitting on the side of your bed. You scooted further away from him, pressing yourself up against the wall. “(Y/N), come on.” He frowned, sandwich clasped in his hand, “Please, at least look at me.” 
You finally turned around, your red puffy eyes met Peter’s concerned puppy ones. You’d been crying, that’s why you didn’t respond. 
“I missed you.” You sniffled, “You didn’t visit, and I know you probably didn’t want to and you don’t have to, but I missed you. I know you’re angry with me and that I disappointed you, b-but you just left and didn’t come back—” You heaved a sob, “and my mother isn’t looking for me. She’s disappointed in me too, but she never loved me like you loved me, and now you’re disappointed in me and it hurts so bad because I know I’m hurting you, but it's so complicated and you don’t understand and when I say that it just sounds like a shitty excuse. I just—I wish I could start over and be normal and just love you like I’m supposed to.” 
Peter’s eyes began watering again, like they had been doing so much these past two weeks. “I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I never meant to leave you like that.” He moved in to hug you and you flinched. 
“It’s not just that.” You cried, “I-I thought you were dead. I couldn’t kill you, so my mother promised that she would complete the mission.”
“No, no I’m here. I’m right here.” Peter moved in to hug you again, this time you let him. His warmth enveloped you just like the night you left him. You held him close, your boney fingers latching onto your nerdy t-shirt as you sniffled into his shoulder. Peter smoothed your hair out with his hand and rubbed soft circles over your waist where his arm clasped around you.
“(Y/N),” He pulled away, holding your face in his hands, “you need to tell them everything.”
“I can’t, Peter.”  You pulled away, ashamed at yourself for the look of disappointment that flashed across his eyes. 
He thought he was finally getting through to you, but one step forward always led to two steps back, and he was exhausted. This tango you had been doing with him had been wearing him down. 
“You can’t?” Peter frowned with a sigh, “You love me, but you can’t save me?” 
His frustrations from the past month were clouding his mind, his thoughts all centered around you and for once he just wished he could stop thinking about you and move on with his life. He was being selfish, but he was so tired. He took a break to spend time with May and focus on school, and when he came back, hoping the team had made some progress, he was met with none. Right back to square one.
“I-I—” You looked at Peter with such a sad and confused look, almost desperate to be free from these burdens. “I’m sorry.” was all you said before laying back down and curling up again, facing away from the boy whose heart you had broken once again.
Peter sighed and stood to leave the room, leaving the sandwich on your bedside table. As he opened the door he looked back at your silhouette in the covers.
“Um, I’ll come back soon, okay?” you didn’t move or speak, you just laid there, numb. “I love you.” Peter left with those final words, closing the door and locking it.
Peter entered the compound’s main living room, where all the Avengers hung out with each other. Thor was even in town for a few weeks while they searched for HYDRA bases in the area. Clint, Sam, Bucky, Steve, and Natasha were playing cards, Euchre or maybe it was Gin Rummy? Peter never learned how to play either of those. Tony was fiddling with one of his holograms with Bruce watching on, providing verbal help every few minutes when he would get stuck. Wanda and Vision were watching Love, Actually and cuddling on the couch.
“Hey, kid!” Tony looked up from the holograms he was working on at the boy. Peter gave him a small smile but proceeded to the kitchen without a word.
He grabbed a banana and a glass of chocolate milk before returning to the living room.
“Hey, Peter.” Steve looked up from his cards and smiled.
“Hi Mr. Rogers.” Peter gave him a tight-lipped smile in return. “What’re you playing?”
“Euchre, want to join in?” Sam surprisingly offered. He never really liked the kid all that much, but even he could tell the poor boy needed a pick me up. 
“No thanks. I’m gonna go watch the cameras.” Peter moved past the group onto the couch Wanda and Vision weren’t currently on. 
He pulled out his SI laptop and pulled up the cameras hooked up to your room. Tony handed the hologram tech he was working on to Bruce and joined Peter on the couch. 
“Hey, watcha looking at?” 
“Just checking to see if she ate that sandwich I brought her.” Peter sighed, he was angry with you. And he had a lot to be angry for, but he still wanted to take care of you. He didn’t want to watch you wither away, no matter how much you may have hurt him. He still loved you. That was his fatal flaw. 
“Yeah, good luck with that. I’ve wasted almost 15 cheeseburgers on that kid. The good quality ones too—” Tony was interrupted when the live footage of you showed you sitting on your bed, reading the copy of The Hobbit that Bucky left in your room for you, contently munching away at the number five with pickles, smushed down real flat. 
“Holy hell, kid.” Tony smiled, “you’ve got the magic touch.”
Peter smiled for the first time in a while too, just happy to see you so content and eating. 
“I know this has been really hard on you. Probably made worse by the fact that she was choosing this life, not forced into it. But I know she’s trying any way she knows how to do what she thinks is right. Things are pretty complicated for her right now and she still has reasons for her actions that are beyond our understanding. And I know that she loves you.” Tony placed a hand on Peter's shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. 
“What?” Peter whipped his head around, looking his mentor in the eyes, “how do you know?”
“It was about two weeks ago when you took a break from coming around that she really stopped eating. She never ate much before then, but she ate. After a few days without you visiting she stopped eating and instead she asked when you were coming. We obviously didn’t know the answer so we kind of just shrugged it off. But at night the notification for noise in her room would go off and I’d go to the cameras to make sure she was alright and she’d be crying your name in her sleep.” Tony’s eyes held so much sympathy. He almost teared up retelling how the past two weeks have been. He did tear up when he would watch you call out for Peter and wake up to no one. 
There was something about you that made Tony feel more. Normally, going nearly a month without answers, he’d send you to a different facility, somewhere they’d pry the answers out of you. He’d send you to SHIELD headquarters. But for some odd reason, he wanted to make sure you made it out of this okay, maybe not perfect, but okay enough to come back from this. 
Maybe it was the way he saw how much you loved Peter and Peter loved you, or perhaps it was the fact that you were still a kid to him. A kid who's spent her entire life being fed lies and being subjected to abuse. Tony couldn’t blame you for having your walls so high up. He couldn’t blame you for being so guarded and harsh. In a way, he saw a lot of himself in you, and it terrified him.
“All I’m saying is; as fucked up as it is, and as much and she probably doesn’t want to believe it, that’s love. Pure, unadulterated love.”
“Hey, kid.” A voice called from the other side of your door. “It’s Steve. Can I come in, I have some laundry and I need to change the sheets.”
You groaned and groggily flipped on your bedside lamp. “Yeah.” You called out, rubbing your wrists, reddening from the metal band they put on it to suppress your strength.
Steve used his card to undo the lock and he walked in, laundry basket in hand. He quickly shut the door, locking it up again before you could even get a proper glimpse of the hallway outside. “How’re you feeling?”
“Like a prisoner.” You deadpanned, getting off the bed and beginning to remove the sheets. 
Steve cleared his throat, “Right. Well, you know, if you could just tell us what we needed to know, then we could help you. Get you out of here and back to a normal routine.”
“I never had a normal routine.” You spat. “I was raised in a household where fear and hesitancy would get me killed. I don’t think any part of what I went through is fucking normal.” 
“Being with Peter felt normal, didn’t it?”
You froze your movements, looking up and glaring at the super-soldier putting t-shirt and sweatpants in the drawers of your dresser. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“You won’t tell us anything.” 
“I have my reasons. I’m not just going to throw away my entire life's purpose, not for you or anyone else. Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for myself. And maybe that’s wrong, but I’ve never had anyone to do it for.” You frowned, thinking back on your childhood. All the lies your mother told you. How what you were doing was for the greater good. How you always aimed to please her; to make yourself worthy of her affection.
Yet, she wasn’t here now. She probably knew where you were, but she didn’t come to save you. She abandoned you the minute things got complicated. No matter how hard you tried to hold on to her memory, to make it something happy and light, you always came to the same conclusion: she was the reason for your darkness. She was the shadow that shielded you from Peter's warmth.
“You have Peter now.” Steve pointed out, giving you a sympathetic smile when he saw the tears glistening in your eyes. “And if you wanted, you could have us too. You’ll never be too far gone, kid. It’s okay to feel lost, but just know, you’ll always be found again.” 
You rubbed yours eyes, but instead of thanking him, you yawned and began putting the new sheets on the bed. “Bottom drawer, left side.” You nodded your head to the dresser.
“What’s this?” Steve opened the drawer and pulled out a piece of paper. It had a detailed drawing of Bucky, holding a kitten and cuddling with it in a rocking chair. 
“It’s for Bucky.” You sighed, “I felt bad for snapping at him last month. I knew he was nervous, but I still made him feel stupid. So I felt bad and drew that with the crayons Scott gave me.”
Steve smiled as he admired the intricate details of the drawing. “That’s very thoughtful of you. I’ll be sure to give it to him.”
“Whatever.” You mumbled, “Can you go now? I want to go back to sleep.”
“So,” Tony began, staring at your sitting figure in the bleak interrogation room. “I thought maybe I could go in there and try to get some answers. The last time I went in, she threw her shoe at my head, but now she’s only wearing socks, so I should be fine.”
“Yeah, no. Sorry Stark, but she also bit you that one time and that shit got infected as fuck because you’re an idiot who wouldn’t clean it.” Sam said, shaking his head at the thought of Tony going in to interrogate again.
“Yeah, but when she’s angry, she tells us more.” Tony argued, holding his finger up to his chin, thinking it over. 
“All we got last time was that her father is a piece of shit, then she threw that shoe at you so…” 
“She told me she didn’t have a father.” Bucky cocked his head to the side and furrowed his brows. 
“No, you numskull, she said he was ‘out of the picture’. There’s a difference.” Natasha informed him, bopping him upside the head.
“I’ll do it again.” Peter offered. “But maybe we’d get more answers if she felt safer, y’know? Not in a bleak stone-walled room, I mean.”
“Kid might be onto something.” Bruce spoke up. “She tells Peter more than she’s ever told any of us. He probably would get more answers if she knew we weren’t watching her every move.”
“We can’t just not watch her. She’s dangerous.” Wanda piped up, motioned to the glass barrier between you and the team. 
“Actually, my love, the wristband she’s wearing removes her enhanced strength. She’s essentially a normal human now.” Vision spoke, holding a finger up.
“Well it’s the best plan we have.” Steve was the first to concede, “Where do you wanna take her, Queens?”
“I have just the place.”
“Where are you taking me?” You hesitantly asked as Peter led you to the woods next to the compound. 
“You’ll see.” He smiled, “Close your eyes?” He held out a hand for you to take and you reached a shaky hand out to clasp it. 
“I won’t hurt you,” He chuckled, beginning to lead you through the thicket. “It’s a good surprise, I promise.”
Peter led you deep into the woods. The picnic he set up was in a clearing next to a rushing river. When the sunset shone over the hill on the other side, the entire clearing lit up with a bright orange light. It was beautiful. 
He came here by himself a lot. It was his own personal tradition for him to come on Ben’s birthday after spending the day with aunt May. He loved her dearly, but in the evening they both took time to themselves to remember Ben on their own. To remember who he was to each of them individually. To May, he was her soulmate, the love of her life. And to Peter, he was a father figure, a mentor, and a shining light on his darkest days after his parents’ deaths.
“Okay, we’re almost there.” Peter said, guiding over a log and under a tilted tree branch. 
Peter walked you into the clearing, breathing a sigh of relief to see that his picnic basket remained untouched, and the flowers didn’t wilt or blow away while he helped you get ready. 
“Can I open my eyes now?” 
“Yeah.” Peter let go of your hand and stood beside the fluffy blue blanket he set out. “Okay, open them.”
Once your eyes adjusted, you saw Peter standing there, a bashful smile on his face and he scratched the back of his neck. Next to him was a bouquet of wildflowers, tied together in a yellow ribbon. There was a cooler next on the blanket next to the flowers, and a note on the cooler that said ‘For Peter and (Y/N): DO NOT TOUCH’, written by Tony.
Your eyes widened when you saw the scene in front of you. 
“D-Do you like it?” Peter asked, walking up to you, standing in front of you with a hopeful glint in his eyes. “It’s okay if you don’t. I wasn’t sure if this was your style. And it’s not like it’s a date—I mean, unless you want it to be, then it is. It’s just—things got pretty complicated for a while and my heart was kinda broken, but it’s okay now. I still love you—and you don't have to say it back. I just wanted you to know. Y’know? And we kinda did the thing, but I never took you on a date and that wasn’t very gentlemanly of me, so if you want it to be a date it is. But it doesn't have to be. I just want you to be happy—” 
You cut off Peter's incessant nervous rambling with a kiss to his cheek. “It’s a date.” You decided, pulling away and smiling at him. “Definitely a date.”
Peter beamed at you, leading you to sit on the fluffy blanket with him. Peter unpacked the cooler, pulling out two take-out boxes with Thai food and a bottle of sparkling cider. “Mr. Stark tried to sneak us some wine, but Pepper caught him at the last minute, so he got us this.” Peter said, pouring some of the cider in a fancy champagne glass.
“Why do you like him?” You said, taking the glass as Peter offered it to you. 
“Well,” Peter began, “he’s my mentor. After my uncle Ben died, I didn’t really have a strong father figure in life. Then Mr. Stark found me and took me in. He helped me to learn how to use my powers responsibly and how to watch out for the little guys. I don’t know, he’s like a father to me I guess.” 
You scoffed and rolled your eyes, causing Peter to look up and furrow his brows. “He’s a selfish ass.” You spat, “He was a playboy that sold his daddy’s weapons after inheriting a company that never should have gone to him. He slept around with countless women and then left them. I’m surprised he’s even married, to be honest.” You shrugged, the hatred for him evident in your eyes. 
Peter was appalled at the hateful words you were spewing about his father figure. “No, he’s changed, really. He’s a great father to Morgan and he’s so in love with Mrs. Potts it’s crazy. He shouldn’t be held accountable for his past actions when he’s done so much to atone for them now.”
“He wouldn’t even care about you if you were normal.” You sneered, “he’d pass you by without a second glance.”
Peter’s face fell, the hurt swimming around in his irises. You softened your gaze when you noticed how much your words had impacted him. You’d already put him through so much pain the past month, you didn’t mean to hurt him again.
“I’m sorry,” you said, quietly, “that was out of line. My issues with Stark shouldn’t affect your relationship with him.” 
Peter sighed but nodded, “He really has changed, (Y/N). Sure, he’s made mistakes, but each mistake was a lesson learned.” 
You nodded along, poking a fork into the pad thai in front of you. “I guess you’re right. We’ve all made mistakes before. I just—You wouldn’t understand.” You frowned. The secret of your parentage was the only leverage you’ve ever had over Tony Stark. By the looked of things now, you probably weren’t going to kill him. You’d have to kill Peter too and it’s become all too obvious that that task would be left unfinished, ergo you could not kill Tony. But the secret still shouldn't be let out. The world would break and Peter would feel so betrayed. All the progress you made would be for nothing.
“Mr. Stark cares about you.” Peter said, digging into his larb. “He watches the cameras in the room whenever he hears a lot of noise in there to make sure you’re alright. He’s the one that convinced the rest of the team not to send you to The Raft.”
You smiled at Peter, “That’s so minor though, compared to my reasoning.” 
“Then tell me your reasoning, (Y/N). I can’t help you or even begin to understand if you keep hiding things from me.”
“Some secrets aren’t meant to come to light, Peter.” You gave him a tight-lipped smile, “It doesn’t matter anyways; it’s in the past.” 
“It matters to me.” Peter held your hand in his, “I can tell you hate Mr. Stark, I think everyone can actually, but I love you so much, and Mr. Stark is like my dad. It would just mean a lot to me if you could learn to love him the way I do.” 
You nodded, “I’ll try.” 
The rest of the late evening was spent cuddling on the blanket, taking silly pictures on Peter’s phone. 
“(Y/N),” Peter sighed, arms wrapped around you and you both laid on the blanket watching the sunset. “You know you can trust me, right?” 
“I know, Pete.” You smiled, nuzzling your head into his neck.
“Then, can you tell me a little more? About you, about your motives. I want to understand. I want to help you any way I can. We all do.” 
“‘We all do’?” You sat up, Peter following, panic in his eyes when his brain caught up to his words. “What do you mean ‘we all do’? A-are they listening in on us right now?” 
You looked at Peter’s guilty face, offense and hurt flashing on yours. “This wasn’t a date, was it? You just wanted to butter me up so you could get answers for the fucking Avengers!” Your voice raised as you drew the final conclusion, anger seeping into your tone. 
“No, (Y/N)! It’s not like that!” Peter protested as you stood up and began packing the cooler back up to go back to the compound. You’d rather be stuffed in your prison of a room than sitting here with Peter. “(Y/N), please listen to me!”
“No, I don’t want to hear it. I know I hurt you. I know what I did was unforgivable, but you forgave me anyway. You continued to spout out that you loved me, and like a fucking idiot I sat here and believed you. I should’ve known I was too far gone for you.”
“No, (Y/N)! I do love you, you’re not too far gone, I can still save you!”
“Even if you were right, even if you did love me, you still tricked me into coming out here, telling me it was a fucking date, just so you could interrogate me for your stupid fucking team of freaks!” You threw the flowers he picked at him. 
“Listen to me for fucks sake!” Peter dodged the flowers, “I just needed answers, we needed answers. (Y/N) we’re running out of time! Your mom is still out there planning on reeking havoc, and we have to stop her.”
You were about to respond when the sound of a gun clicking interrupted you.
“Looks like you're already out of time, my dear.” 
✧tags & moots✧: @ptersmj @princessofguineapigs @ptersmj @princessofguineapigs @peterbenjiparker @cherrytholland @itsapeterthing @justapurrcat @thirstiestpotato @kelieah @iovebug @waitimcomingtoo @rosyparkers @parkers-gal @allegra-writes @starktonyx @felicityparkers @hollandcrush @londonspidey @blissfulparker @spidernerdsblog @spidey-sophie @spideyspeaches @duskangxls @peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology @andilovetowrite @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @babebenhardy @blackxwidowsxwife @juliannaamonroe @sinisterspidey @amourmarvel​ @hollandsdream​ @annathesillyfriend​ @itsyellowbear25 @fckinel @hornyhoursonly
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rosyparkers · 8 hours ago
make it right | series.
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❝ after much soul-searching and trying to find your own path, you end up in a quaint little town near london, where your closest friend lives. luckily for you, a full-time kindergarten teacher position has just opened up. a couple of months after you’ve hung up your name in front of classroom 2-b, the last person you expect to see picking up a bubbly little boy is tom holland, the man who left you behind all those years ago. ❞
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❀ one ❀
❀ two ❀
❀ three ❀
❀ four ❀
❀ five ❀
❀ six ❀
✎ updates every other friday starting june 2021.
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​⇨ omg I am so excited!! I’ve had this idea for more than a year, but I lacked the time and motivation to dedicate myself to a series. now that I’ve gotten back into writing more regularly and my semester is coming to an end, I’ve dug this baby out of the drafts and I’m ready to write it. 
however, I want to make it clear that, although I’m publishing this masterlist now, the story itself won’t be posted until june! I just want to get it out and make sure this is something y’all are interested in, as well as hype it up until I start posting it next month!!
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sinisterspidey · 10 hours ago
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anchor ☆ prologue - sympathy
a/n: here it is! it’s shorter than i intend the chapters to be, which will be around 4-6k. nonetheless, this is really just to build up the ~dynamic~ and the ~vibes~, yanno? so, please enjoy, and lmk if you’d like to be added to the taglist via ask or dm! and thank you to the lovely @rosyparkers for your banner and your editing skills, you’re an icon. also! if you’d like to be tagged in this series just lmk <3 and, as a fun little twist, each part of this series is named after a song title from the album ‘father of the bride’ by vampire weekend, and the text will begin with some lyrics from that song in italics :D
warnings: drinking mentions, slut-shaming mentions
word count: 1.1k
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alone in someone’s bedroom she firmly took my hand the isolation ended i began to understand
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For the past two years, Peter’s been having dinner with Pepper and Morgan on the first Friday of every month, and they’ve grown from uncomfortable moments of shared grief to comforting and warm check-ins with each other. Though Peter didn’t really know Pepper while Tony was alive, he’s gotten to know her since, and she’s become another motherly figure to him. On the rare occasions that he couldn’t go to May for something, he knew that he could always rely on Pepper. 
And, Pepper, in return, grew to rely on Peter, especially when it came to Morgan. He always made time for her, and was glad to babysit her whenever she called. 
However, after reading Pepper’s text, he’s not as pleased as he is about dinner with the Starks as he’d grown to be.
Because, apparently, you’re joining, and he hasn’t seen you in two years. 
He last saw you at Tony’s funeral, and a week later, when you told him that you were going to finish high school in Switzerland at some fancy boarding school for rich kids like yourself. Even the chance to deter you from going was taken from him, as you only gave him the news when you stopped by his apartment on the way to the airport. 
For someone who’s lost both his parents and his uncle, disappeared into dust, and saw the death of his mentor, that day ranks surprisingly high on the list of “worst days in Peter Parker’s life.”
And even after you crushed him that day, he tried texting and calling you for the first few months, but eventually, he just gave up. It became abundantly clear to him that you had zero intention whatsoever of involving him in your new life, and instead had every intention of creating an entirely different life for yourself that lacked any trace of Peter Parker.
“If you don’t go, you’re a coward,” Ned pipes in, from where he’s laying on his dorm room bed across from Peter’s desk, crunching on a bag of potato chips.
Peter turns around in his desk chair, shooting his longtime friend and current roommate an unamused expression.
Ned, unbothered, continues munching, scrolling through his phone.
“I’m not a coward...I simply don’t want to go,” Peter says, though Ned remains thoroughly unconvinced.
“I think that you do want to go.”
“You’re an idiot,” Peter says, before turning back around in his chair, continuing to stare at the text.
“I think that you’re just scared that you’re still in love with the girl you were in love with two years ago,” Ned taunts.
“We’ve been over this, Ned. I was never in love with… her. I literally dated MJ immediately after she left,” Peter defends, though he knows his defense is shaky, at best.
Ned rolls his eyes, “Yeah, and then you broke up with her because—”
“Okay, okay! If I agree to go will you not bring up… that?!” Peter relents, thoroughly annoyed with his friend. To this day, the reason that he broke up with MJ remains more painful than the fact that they broke up in the first place.
“Sure,” Ned agrees, though not managing to do so without rolling his eyes, before turning his attention away from Peter and back to his phone.
Peter hovers his hands over the phone’s keyboard. Yes, he wants to accept, if not just for Pepper and Morgan’s sake. But, even though he wants to forget about it and erase it from memory, you hurt him. 
Not only did he lose Tony, but he lost you, too. He lost his best friend, and that can’t be over exaggerated. He’d seen you at your worst, and you’d seen him at his. And, yeah, maybe a small part of him thought that you and him might end up together, but that was all crushed when you pulled the rug out from under him.
If there’s one person he saw more than anyone else—it was you. He saw you at school, at his internship, and occasionally on patrol when you would sneak out of the Tower and meet him on a slow night. And then there were the Compound sleepovers, and the pranks on Sam and Bucky.
But you essentially just left him floundering. You were his anchor. And then you weren’t.
Yet he also knows he’ll have to see you eventually. And the news that you’re back in town combined with the constant coverage of you in the papers reminds him of that.
“Y/N Stark Gone Wild: Spotted At A Club for the Fifth Time in a Week.”
“Y/N Stark Seen Doing the Walk-of-Shame from Harry Osborn Apartment—Again.”
And he hates that the headlines make him worried for you. Part of him wants to say that it’s “what you deserve,” but he knows that’s far from the truth, in addition to just being cruel. You lost your father, and clearly that—combined with whatever you “learned” at boarding school—is causing your current PG-13 behavior. 
But then he thinks… he would’ve helped you. Even though he was grieving Tony’s loss for himself, he would’ve grieved with you. He was willing to mourn with you and be as good of a friend as he’d always been, but you made him think that he wasn’t enough. Your act of leaving just reinforced his own insecurities in his ability of being a good friend and, maybe, eventually, a good boyfriend.
And you knew that it was one of his greatest fears. He tried so long to understand your side of it, but after a while, part of him thought your behavior was ridiculous. 
So ridiculous, perhaps, that the old Y/N Stark was dead. 
And in a weird way, that makes Peter’s acceptance of Pepper’s invitation easier. Because if you’re an entirely different person than you were two years ago, he won’t miss you so much. If he creates a different version of you in his mind, then he can hold onto the fact that Y/N, his best friend, didn’t abandon him. Instead, Y/N, his best friend, died, and this new, unfamiliar Y/N lived. It’s morbid, and Peter knows that it’s probably ridiculously unhealthy and not at all a sustainable line of thinking, but it gives him a weird sense of...peace. Or, at least, it gives him the ability to stand in the same room as you for an extended amount of time without screaming every terrible thought he’s had about you in the past two years and then slamming the door and leaving.
And that’s why he types, “I’ll be there, Pep,” and then clicks send.
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sinisterspidey · 10 hours ago
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anchor ☆ series masterlist
pairing: college!peter x stark!reader
updates: every other friday.
prologue - sympathy (posted on may 5.)
chapter 1 - stranger (coming on may 7.)
ongoing total word count: 1.1k
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summary: in 2018, you and peter were joined at the hip—but that was before the blip that caused both of you to disappear and before the reversal of the blip which caused the death of your father and peter’s mentor, tony stark. and it’s made even more difficult for peter when you jet off to boarding school, leaving him to finish high school without you, his best friend.
he convinces himself that he’s happy about your disappearance, which is relatively easy until you come back to new york city, right when he starts college. and though he wants to avoid you just like you avoided him for the past two years, it’s hard to do when you’re in the headlines every single day because you’re getting drunk more than half of the days in the week and sleeping with every eligible bachelor on the upper east side. you remind him too much of tony in the years before iron man, and it worries him sick. keeping his distance from you might be a lot harder than he had planned.
a/n: finally i’ve found a series that i’m actually planning on writing and finishing...what a, it follows the events of endgame and far from home, except for ya know...the ffh post-credit scene :P 
if you want to be tagged in this series, please send in an ask or message me. it will be a separate taglist from my main taglist, so even if you’re on there, you won’t be on this one unless you notify me separately.
this fic is suitable for all ages, and if smut is included (who knows...not me) it will be clearly marked in the chapters.
also, all of the chapter titles are based off of song titles from the album ‘father of the bride’ by vampire weekend. who knows if the songs actually connect to the content of each chapter? not me ;)
lastly, i want to thank the amazing @rosyparkers for not only making me this header, but also for reading and editing my extremely “rough” rough drafts. you’re an icon, you amazing queen.
series taglist (let me know if you want to be added or removed, and strikethrough means i couldn’t tag you): @lolooo22​ ✩ @softholand​ @nuttytani​ ✩ @more-like-reyna​ ✩ @sofsoftheloaf​ ✩ @millennial-teenybopper​ ✩ @aussie-holland​ ✩ @ricochetweb​ ✩ @chubsluda​ ✩ @richkookie​ ✩ @quacksonfrog ✩ @juicyphatcooter​ ✩ @slutforsebstan​ ✩ @squirrelsarescaryman​ ✩ @cali-holland​ ✩ @cocoamoonmalfoy​ ✩ @castawayclaires ✩ @antigoneidk​ ✩ @augustholland​ ✩ @marveloussensations​ ✩ @pinklxmonade​ ✩ @adayasgeorgia​ ✩ @tomshufflepuff​ ✩ @veryholland​ ✩ @lauras-collection​ ✩ @parkers-gal​ ✩ @parkerliciouspeter​ ✩ @prentisswrites​ ✩ @serieholic-by-heart​ 
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blindingdutchy · a day ago
lamentation | THREE
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{peter parker x fem!reader AU}
based on All the Bright Places by Jennifer Niven
word count: 3,310
warnings: depression, anxiety, grief, mental illness! descriptions of injury/blood/gore! angst
18+!!! minors stay away!
Peter Parker: are you okay??
Peter Parker: (Y/N)?
Peter Parker: why aren't you at school? please tell me you're okay
You shut your phone off and buried your head under your pillow again, wishing for nothing more than to go back to sleep and escape life completely. All weekend long, and especially all morning, your phone had been ringing non stop with texts from Peter Parker. As much as you wished you could say you hadn't read them, you had.
You'd read them all almost as soon as you'd received them, but you just couldn't bring yourself to respond. You didn't need friends. You didn't want friends. Peter Parker was not your friend, and you were determined to keep it that way. No matter how hard he tried to force himself into your life, you were not going to let him in; you couldn't.
You couldn't let him in and risk getting hurt again, and today was yet another painful reminder of why. It was her birthday. At least, it would have been if she weren't dead. If you hadn't put her in the wrong place at the right time, ending her life and ruining yours forever.
For one tiny moment after you woke up, one minuscule fraction of a second, you forgot the importance of the day. You forgot what made the day different, and you forgot that your sister was dead. Or, rather, did you forget you ever had a sister at all? Had--that was the word that made you weep.
That fleeting moment of ignorance was the exact reason why it should have been you and not her. Surely, she never would have forgotten your birthday, or you, or your absence. She never would have looked at the date and even hesitated in remembering what the significance was. Always the better sister, the better person, the one who deserved it all.
Since that moment you had not left your bed, and Peter's latest slew of texts forced you to look at the time and acknowledge that hours had passed. It was lunch time, hours and hours since you'd awoken, and you had not moved even an inch. Everything felt too heavy.
The air felt too thick, gravity too strong, your body made of stone; you wondered if you were even able to move. Of course, you had shut your phone off so clearly you could move, but you didn't want to. It was so hard, so unbelievably hard to move. Why did everything have to be so tough?
As you laid there, staring at the blackened void of the backs of your eyelids because you just couldn't shut your mind off, your thoughts wandered through all the darkest places. Would she have been ashamed to see you like this? Would she have been disgusted with how you were acting, the person you had become?
God, why couldn't you just shut it off? Why couldn't you just make it all stop? That was all you wanted anymore. You wanted the thoughts, the feelings, the memories, everything, to just go away. You wanted to just exist in the empty void that only came about when you were sleeping. The space where your senses were gone and it was just you.
Or, maybe, you didn't want to exist at all. That wasn't to say that you wanted to die, even though you did, but rather that you just wanted to cease to exist. You wanted to never be, to never have been. It was complex thought that was equally as heavy and taxing to ponder.
Would that have made a difference? Would she have lived if you had never been around, never been alive, to lead her down all the paths that lead to that moment? If you hadn't existed, she wouldn't have been in the park at that perfect moment. If she, by some mystical force, had been there anyways, she wouldn't have lingered behind to save you.
Everyone's lives would have been so much better without you. Your parents wouldn't have had to work so much to afford everything for you and your sister. Your grandma might have lived longer, not having to exert herself so much to watch after the troublesome child that you had been. Maybe the butterfly effect of your lack of existence would have reached so far that the world would generally be a better place, too.
You barked a laugh at the thought, your voice hoarse from dehydration and lack of use. How pathetic it was of you to think you had so much of an impact! You surely were not so important that you changed that much about the world.
"(Y/N), honey?"
The world got a little heavier at the sound of your door creaking open and your mother's soft, hesitant voice. When you didn't respond, nor even move a muscle, she sighed, "(Y/N), you need to eat. I made some soup, I'll even bring it up to you if you want."
Despite the fact that you didn't feel hungry in even the slightest capacity, your stomach rumbled loudly at the mention of food. "Okay." you whispered, and when the door clicked shut again the silence was overwhelming.
She would have been so disappointed in you. You knew just how much you worried your parents with every passing day, and as much as you wanted to be better and make them feel better, you just couldn't bring yourself to care. You couldn't bring yourself to care about your wellbeing or how all the things you were doing, or not doing, affected your parents.
Caring wasn't easy anymore, and it felt foreign. You were so bogged down under all the baggage on your back, on your shoulders, and on your head that you couldn't expend any of the energy required to do so. If you did, if you tried, you'd surely have collapsed under the weight.
Your mother came back and left once more just as quickly, sighing quietly as she tried and failed to rouse you from your bed. You'd remained silent through the creak of the door, the soft clatter of the bowl and spoon being placed on your nightstand, her soft breathes of disappointment, and the click of the latch as she left again. You even held your breathe, so immersed in listening to all her little noises that you forgot about the air you needed to live.
When your mother returned to your room later that day, though it felt like seconds for you, she ripped the blankets from your body and blinked down at you tearfully. "You didn't eat." she stated simply, gesturing to the still full bowl of soup that was now ice cold.
You blinked back, though the tears in your eyes were due to the sudden burn of being open rather than emotion. The numbness had creeped in at some point during the day, and you couldn't feel a thing aside from empty. She waited there for a long, pregnant moment for you to respond, but you had no words.
What were you meant to say? You could hear your sister's voice scolding you for ignoring her, but you just couldn't think of the right thing to say anymore. "Get up, (Y/N). Dinner is getting cold and you're going to eat with us, even if I have to drag you out of this bed myself." your mother finally demanded.
Weakly, you clambered out of your bed and followed her downstairs. She tried to hide it, probably for your sake, but you could see the pleased smile on her face as she finally got you out of your bed. You wondered what it felt like to smile anymore. Could you smile anymore? You'd tried a few times, but it always felt awkward and forced and never looked quite right.
"She lives!"
You grimaced, your version of a smile, at your father's bland attempt at humor that earned a warning glare from your mother. Yes, you lived, and that was the problem. You didn't want to. You shouldn't have. It should have been her coming down to dinner to celebrate her birthday, not you trudging to the table to try and ignore the party that should have been taking place.
She would have been nineteen. Would she have liked college? Would she have found a cute college boy to date, maybe have brought him home to meet the family on her birthday? Your mother made her favorite food, a family recipe, and you pretended you didn't notice.
It didn't taste as good without her around to gush over it in anticipation. You'd never been much of a fan in the first place, but as a little sister it was your duty to love everything your big sister did. Food included, and you'd eagerly sucked down that casserole for years and claimed it was your favorite too.
"I'll be right back, don't go anywhere!" your mother announced, wiping her hands on a napkin as you choked down the last pea on your plate.
When she returned a few moments later with a large chocolate cake in her hands, a cold sweat blossomed over your body and you stiffened. "What's that?" you demanded, staring wide eyed at the all-too-familiar cake incredulously.
It was a rhetorical question. You knew exactly what it was, but you were horrified to see it. She'd made her famous chocolate cake, the same cake she'd made every year for your sister's birthday because, like the casserole, it too was her favorite.
Was this some kind of sick joke? Why did she make a cake? Your sister was gone, and there was nothing to celebrate. If anything you wished to still be hidden away under your blankets, moping and wishing for peace. Yet, here was your mother, placing the cake down on the table with a sheepish smile and watery eyes.
She stared at the cake, avoiding your eyes as she sniffed, "I just... I thought that maybe this would make it feel like she's still here. I just wanted a little bit of her to make the day a little less sad."
"She's not here, Mom." you snapped, "She's not here, and this isn't going to change that."
With a loud screech from your chair that scraped across the floor, you bolted away from the table and back to your room. God, why are you being so horrible? She's just trying her best, you don't have to be so hard on her... Your sister's voice echoed in your mind, rattling around your skull so hard you swore you could feel your teeth chatter.
She was right, and you knew it. You knew you were being unfair, cruel even, but you couldn't help it. You couldn't help the uncontrollable guilt that seeing all your sister's favorite foods brought creeping back over you. You couldn't help the bile that steadily rose up your throat at the thought of her, the sight of her ever-present empty chair.
You couldn't help any of it. The anger and guilt was too much to bear, especially as you heard your mother's choked sob echo from the dining room all the way to your bedroom. You'd done that. You'd made her cry with your selfish contempt. You were truly the worst.
Collapsing back onto your bed and burying yourself under your blankets, you smothered yourself with your pillow until it felt like your lungs were going to explode. The tears never came, though you wished for them desperately. You felt like crying, you wanted to cry, but you couldn't. You were all cried out once more.
A loud knock on your window startled you awake, and you blinked in surprise at the pitch darkness of your room. You couldn't remember falling asleep, but that was fairly typical anymore. When you don't dream, there's never really much to differentiate between wake and rest. It was always just like blinking your eyes--one moment it was one day, and the next it was another.
Time moved pretty strangely ever since the incident, you'd discovered. Sleep made time seem longer, more impactful, and without it the days all blurred together. Another knock caught your attention, followed by another, before there was a steady rapping at the glass pane that made you furrow your eyebrows.
You clicked the power button on your phone only to huff when you remembered you'd shut it off, and turned to face the window. A shadow passed before it and your heart stuttered frightfully. Another knock, another shadow, and you were surprised you hadn't peed your pants in fear. There was someone out there.
A head popped up over the windowsill, falling heavily against the glass with a loud bang that made you jump. "What the--Peter?" you gasped, your eyes slowly adjusting to the dim lighting until you could make out the familiar suit of Spiderman.
What the hell was Peter doing at your window, and why was he still dressed up in his stupid costume? Begrudgingly, yet secretly curious, you creeped out of your bed and opened the window with furrowed eyebrows. "Peter, what are you doing here?" you whispered, but he didn't respond.
Well, he didn't respond with words. He groaned, a strange gargled noise like he was trying to talk through a mouthful of water, and his head lolled to the side weakly. Prodding his shoulder, he nearly tumbled to the ground until you caught him awkwardly and strained to keep him upright. "P-please, help." he gasped.
Your heart was racing, and your mind was moving nearly as fast with a million questions. How the hell did Peter know where you lived? Why was he at your window? What was wrong with him? Why did he think you were the person to help him? Why, what, why, how, all the questions remained unanswered.
It was a great struggle to drag Peter through your window, a task that was done without much help from the surprisingly heavy boy who leaned nearly all of his weight onto you. You did it, though, and bit back a scream when you pulled your hands away to find them covered in blood. As you stared at the dark, red stains on your flesh, the smell of it hit you and your head was spinning.
Blood, and a lot of it. Immediately your mind brought you back to that fateful day, images of your sister's lifeless form flashing before your eyes and blurring the world around you. Your breathing grew shallower, and just as the tunnel vision started to encroach, Peter garbled, "Please, (Y/N), you need to help me."
He weakly slapped at his chest until his suit deflated like a balloon, peeling away from his body like a loose tarp that was easily pulled away from his skin. "Oh, my god!" you wailed. His body was riddled with cuts, scrapes, and bruises galore. You wondered if any of his skin remained unbroken, because everything was black, blue, and red.
For the first time in what felt like forever, your fight or flight switched gears to fight. You weren't entirely sure why, because you were crying and holding back vomit like your life depended on it, but you raced around your room to gather anything you could to staunch the bleeding. Every breathe you took overwhelmed you with the smell of blood, that familiar metallic scent of iron or pennies, but you couldn't breathe through your mouth.
If you opened your mouth, you were surely going to lose all the food you'd eaten for dinner. All you could think of was your sister. You thought of what she would have done, and you knew that you were making the right choice in helping him. She would never have left him to fend for himself. Most of all, though, you thought of your sister and how you hadn't stopped her from dying, and you couldn't do that again.
You couldn't let another person die as a result of your actions. You couldn't, and you wouldn't. So, you worked hard and fast through all your crying to patch Peter up as best as you could. Nothing needed stitches as far as you could tell, but nearly every inch of his skin was broken with some form of scrape, scratch, or cut.
It was messy, and by the time you finished you were pretty sure you had more of Peter's blood on your skin and clothes than he had on himself. He was asleep, or unconscious, you weren't entirely sure. What you were sure of, though, was that the sun was rising and he needed to leave. You needed him to get out, both for the sake of your mentality and your parents'.
So, you jabbed your fingers into his shoulder and hissed, "Wake up!"
He awoke frantically, his eyes snapping open and his body lurching upright as he looked around in a panic. "Get away--(Y/N)? What... What am I doing here? Where am I?" he stammered, slumping back onto the floor with a wince as he continued to scan his surroundings in confusion.
"You're in my bedroom, Parker, and I don't know why. You showed up covered in blood and begging for help." you grumbled in annoyance. "You need to go. It's almost morning."
He blinked in surprise, glancing out your window to see the early hints of dawn on the horizon. "I, uh, I'm... I'm sorry. I don't remember coming here." he mumbled, "Woah, did I hurt you? Oh my God, I hurt you, I'm so--"
"This is your blood, Peter." you growled, cutting off his frenzied rambling as he finally caught sight of the red stains all over your body. "Get out."
He stared at you with parted lips, eyes wide with panic and apprehension. "Are you crying?" he finally asked, his voice timid.
It took you a moment to realize that, yes, you were in fact crying. You hadn't realized that the tears were still flowing from your eyes, but as you did the adrenaline wore off and you choked out through a sob, "Get out! Get out of here, Peter!"
Without the adrenaline pumping through your veins to keep you grounded, the emotion of the entire situation caught up to you. All the fear, anguish, guilt, and anxiety--it all washed over you in an instant and you were losing it. But, you were also angry. You were angry with Peter for putting you in that position.
You were angry that he'd show up, barely alive and begging for your help, when he knew somewhat of what you'd been through. He knew, at the very least, that your sister's death was on your hands, and he put you in a position to put another name on that list. Most of all, though, you were angry that already all of your worst fears were thrown in your face.
Peter wasn't your friend, but some part of you wanted him to be, and already you were faced with the prospect of him dying and you being helpless to stop it. Why was the universe so cruel to you? Were you cursed? It was all a sick, twisted joke, and you wanted no part of it.
"(Y/N), what's wrong--"
You cried, "Just, please, go. I'll see you at school, okay? Just go!"
And, after a moment of hesitation, he went. He climbed out of your window from where he watched you for another minute longer, clearly unwilling to leave you alone in such a state. Peter watched wordlessly as you fumbled to close and latch the window, until you shut the curtains and shut him out again.
Peter Parker: i'm so sorry
Peter Parker: please be okay
Peter Parker: i better see you at school tomorrow or i'm coming back to check on you
Peter Parker: or today i guess
SERIES TAGLIST {ask to be added}:
@msmimimerton @zendayasfwb
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andilovetowrite · a day ago
Punch To The Heart (Part 2)
Peter Parker x Reader
Summary: After repeatedly blowing you off on plans, events and trips, you have finally had enough. But Peter soon regrets it as he sees the harsh reality of almost losing his best friend.
Based on a request, you can find here!
Warnings: Shooting and violence. But nothing too graphic. This is probably my most angsty fic yet, with sprinkles of fluff here and there :)
Word count: 2.4k
Here is my Masterlist in case you want to find more of my work :)
Punch to the Heart (Teaser)
Punch to the Heart (Part 1)
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“Crap crap crap”, Peter muttered, running his hands through his hair. He looked at Aunt May, hoping she would say that she was joking; it was some sick prank. But she just looked down, coming to smooth her hand on his back.
“Sorry, Pete. Her parents just called me to tell you that she is in the hospital. She isn’t doing so good. She was losing a lot of blood before passing out on the street. Police arrived 5 minutes later.”
Peter sighed, feeling his throat close up as he shook his head. “No, no, no, they said they will go after my girl” Peter looked back at May as he quickly suited up. “My girl,” He said quietly before snapping his web up, jumping out of his window and towards the hospital, sirens blaring in the background…
Peter walked into the school, arm slung around MJ, pressing a kiss to her head before he let her go, watching her walk to her class. He kept walking, a glazed look in his eye, that he didn’t even see you, tumbling onto you.
“Oh, I’m so sorry”, he rambled before he saw who he was talking to.
“Hey Peter”, you said coldly, looking at him with a pinch in your heart.
“Oh, hey Y/N!” he said, a slightly pained look on his face.
You let out a sharp intake of breath you didn’t know you had been holding since he walked in. “I’m surprised you even know my name after you bailed on me last night. Again.”
Peter sighed uncharacteristically. “Look, I already said I’m sorry. Like a billion times!”
You scoffed, trying to hide how much it hurt. “Nope. Not even once. I left you 15 voicemails, Peter! I thought you were dead or you had gotten hurt! Couldn’t you just send me one text? After you probably texted MJ a billion times”, you said, imitating his voice. You tried to stop the shaking in your voice.
It had only been less than a week since you and Peter had talked about him not speaking to you anymore, and now it had been happening more and more. You knew he had Spiderman duties 5/7 days in a week, so you planned your night together on a Saturday night.
The same Saturday night, Tony had asked him to come because there was a challenging mission urgently. But you had looked at the news all night to see how the fight was going. Not once did they mention anything about a fight.
“How was the fight, Pete?”
“What fight?” he asked, confused. And that gave you the answer you were looking for.
“The one you told me as an excuse… You know, I’m sure MJ didn’t even get one text. Because you were by her side the entire time.”
Peter looked at you, wide-eyed. He opened and closed his mouth, trying to say something to you.
“Tell me I’m wrong, Parker. That you blew me off for the hundredth time to hang out with your new girlfriend?!”
Peter didn’t say anything for a couple of minutes, just staring at the ground, even as the bell rang. But then he squared up, jaw clenching. “Why the hell can’t I just spend time with MJ” Without you breathing down my neck?”
“Because you hang out with everyone, Peter! MJ, Ned, Betty… heck, even Flash! But not once do you hang out with me!”
“Maybe because you are just so fucking frustrating! Always wanting attention like a kid!” he spat out, then he looked away, muttering something under his breath.
“What did you say?” you asked, voice breaking, as the silence of the hall felt suffocating.
“I said, I thought you had gotten more than enough attention you would’ve needed in your life!” Just as those words left his mouth, you crumpled as if a shock of pain had gone through your body.
“Why-why would you say that?” you cried out, not caring that you had school anymore as you dropped your bag on the floor, furiously wiping your tears on the back of your hand. “Don’t answer that. I know why you said it, Peter”, you said, glaring at him through the tears. Walking out of the school, you clung to your shirt. So much for not wanting to care.
Little did you know that leaving your bag at school may have been the worst decision you could ever make….
DING DONG, DING DONG, DING DONG, the doorbell kept repeating. Your parents had gone out for the night, leaving you at home by yourself. You walked over, trying to see who would come at 4:00 in the evening.
“Y/N!”, Peter called out. But he sounded muted.
You slowly opened the door to see Spiderman standing there, holding your school bag and some flowers. “I’m sorry. I know I haven’t been spending time with you, but someone sent a message to the compound a week back. Said it was for Spiderman. They told me that they were going to go after my girl, to get revenge for stopping the bank robbery that happened a couple of months ago.”
“Uhm, so that’s why you weren’t spending time with me?”
“Well, MJ also wants me to stop spending time with you so much. Said you were kinda clingy.” He said, scratching the back of his neck.
You scoffed. “No offence, but you gotta stand up for yourself Peter!”
“I can’t just do that, she is my girlfriend.”
“More like your mom…”, you muttered, rolling your eyes.
“Ok then.”
You sighed, giving him the flowers back. “Here, give these to MJ. She will like them. Or why don’t you wilt them a bit first, so I’ll be like her soul?”
Peter looked shocked. “Why would you say that? She is the best girlfriend ever!”
Your eyes softened. So he didn’t know. “Peter, I saw her and Brad today. At the field. Making out!”
Peter shook his head, more so to himself than you. “She wouldn’t cheat on me Y/N!”
“Okay, Peter. If you wanna keep on trusting your lying, rude girlfriend. Then go ahead. Guess we are back on square one then?” Peter didn’t even say anything, but when he left, you could see he left the flowers at your door, crumpled but still smelling fresh.
Peter stood in MJ’s room, playing with her hair softly after his fight with Y/N. But something was playing on his mind.
“MJ, did you cheat on me? With Brad? Since some people claimed that they saw you and him making out near the bleachers?”
MJ looked like a deer caught in the headlights but was interrupted(or saved) by Peter’s phone blaring loudly. Peter grabbed it, picking it up to hear Aunt May tell him something he never would have thought of.
“Y/N’s in the hospital Peter”
Peter gasped, jumping off MJ’s bed. “What happened”, she asked, looking annoyed.
“Y/N’s in the hospital! I have to go there…” Peter said, freaking out now. He looked at MJ, hoping to see some type of understanding in her eye, but she just glared at the phone.
“So what? It’s not like you can speed up her healing process. Whatever happened to her? Did she cry so hard her eyes fell out?”, MJ asked bitingly, rolling her eyes. Peter stood there, shocked.
“MJ, she is my best friend! I have to go see what happened to her.”
She laughed cruelly, “Oh please, you haven’t been her best friend for a long time. Let’s not act as if you care. Plus, you promised to meet my parents tonight.”
Peter shook his head firmly. “No-no MJ, I can’t just sit here having dinner with your mom and dad while Y/N’s in the hospital.”
MJ scoffed, looking down at Peter. “Okay, then here is what’s gonna happen. If you go to the hospital tonight, we’re over.”
Peter stuttered, looking at her in disbelief. “Wha-why?! What’s wrong with you? I have to go see her MJ!”
“No, you don’t. She will be fine. I’m sure it’s nothing major knowing Y/N. Always makes such a big fucking deal about everything”
Peter chuckled humourlessly and turned towards the window. “If you are going to make me choose between my best friend and my girlfriend, then I don’t know what to say to you, Michelle.”
MJ nodded, flipping him off. “Oh please, more like the girl you love and your girlfriend.”
And with that, Peter jumped out the window, tears already gathering in his eyes.
Peter quickly ran into the apartment, seeing May sitting down in the kitchen, talking to someone on the other side.
“Oh okay, I’ll tell him. Please keep me updated”
May turned around when she heard Peter slam the door shut. He ran over to her, eyes bloodshot. “Wha-what happened?”
May sighed, looking at Peter sadly. “It’s not your fault Peter”, she started, and that was when Peter broke.
“May-ple-please, what happened to her!?”
“Remember how you got that call, that those guys will be after someone you know? Well, they must have seen you go to Y/N’s house in the afternoon, and then targeted her.”
“Shit May! It’s my fault...Wait, do they know I’m Spiderman? Because then you have to go somewhere. I’ll call Happy!”, Peter said, rushing around.
May put her hand on his shoulder, “Peter, they don’t know you are Spiderman. All they saw was the city’s hero dropping off a package to Y/N’s house.
“How did she even get out?!”
May sighed. “Fought out of the van, but just as she was running, they shot her in the leg and stomach. Then came up and hurt her a bit more before leaving her on the street”
“Crap crap crap”, Peter muttered, running his hands through his hair. He looked at Aunt May, hoping she would say that she was joking; it was some sick prank. But she just looked down, coming to smooth her hand on his back.
“Sorry, Pete. Her parents just called me to tell you that she is in the hospital. She isn’t doing so good. She was losing a lot of blood before passing out on the street. Police arrived 5 minutes later.”
Peter sighed, feeling his throat close up as he shook his head. “No, no, no, they said they will go after my girl” Peter looked back at May as he quickly suited up. “My girl,” He said quietly before snapping his web up, jumping out of his window and towards the hospital, sirens blaring in the background…
7:51 pm Peter, Peter there are some guys standing outside my apartment. These look like the guys who you took down a few months ago, remember? The bank robbery. Anyway, please call me back, I’m worried.
8:05 pm Hey, please pick up. The guys are now banging open the apartment door. I think I heard a gunshot, Peter! Please please come here…
8:15 pm Oh god, Peter. They are coming up the stairs, and they aren’t stopping. I locked the door and I’m staying hidden, but I’m scared, Peter. Please come here. I think they already shot someone downstairs...Ohmygod, I can hear them on my floor, Pete-
8:17 pm Peter, they are outside my door. I shut off all the lights and am hiding under my parent’s bed. You let out a quiet gasp, then started whispering. “They are inside Peter! I can hear them. At least three voices. Please come here, I need Spiderma-
There you are, a gruff voice called out as you let out a pained squeak.
8:26 pm Pete-Peter, they bought me down. Chucked me out the window. Peter, I don’t know where I am just that I’m in some type of van. I kept my phone next to me, and all-ugh-the guys have gone out for something, wait they’re coming ba-
As he played each message on the way to the hospital, Peter could feel himself getting more and more worried. The guys from the bank robbery. The threat. Y/N now in the hospital. Because of Spiderman. Because of him. Because he didn’t stay next to her when it mattered. Because he blew her off for his probably cheating, heartless girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend.
Arriving at the back of the hospital, he quickly shed his suit, running in. “Um, hello. I’m trying to find Y/N, Y/L/N? She was brought in today evening.
The nurse nodded, pointing to the room down the hall. “She is in there.”, she said, sounding sympathetic. “Sorry..”
Peter didn’t even stick around to see why she was sorry for him. Instead, he ran to the room. No one was here, only a couple of doctors here and there. He went next to the room, seeing your parent’s standing beside you, your body covered in gashes and bruises, while gauze covered several parts of your leg and stomach. Peter walked in, going straight to Y/N, but just as he was about to reach you, your heartbeat flatlined, a loud BEEEEP resonating in the room….
Tagged: @idkatee @eternalscribblesforthesoul @loudbluepancake @poisondevotion @scram1326 @t-hollanderr @305weasley @starknik22 @marvelfansworld @lou-la-lou @lomlparker
Wow! Cliffhanger...ohhh. Anyway, thanks for reading this. It was really fun to write, and I highly enjoyed it. The next part won’t be out for at least a week, since I gotta study for exams. If you wanna be tagged in my next part, as well as other posts, just comment or send me a quick message… Thanks so much, and until next time :)
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starknik22 · a day ago
One more scene left to write in chapter 4! So..
Where We Rot: Chapter Four— Let Me Let You Go
COMING: May 5th @ 7pm EST (New York Time)
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please give the college crossover au headcanons (if you want to ofc) im very curious
Yeah of course! Here’s random stuff about it:
Random Shenanigans:
The first time Percy made blue mac and cheese, Peter looked ill. But then he tried it, and now the whole gang usually has blue mac and cheese at least once every two weeks. (Percy moreso)
The boys have definitely had the “what’s your weirdest near death experience?” 3 am conversations before. They all disagree about who “wins” (and they all pick someone other than themself). 
When Astrid comes to visit (because she and Hiccup are doing the Long Distance Thing), she and Annabeth are very fast friends. 
The whole gang freaking love Sally Jackson when she comes to visit Percy. She brings blue cookies every time. (It also makes Peter Parker and Danny Fenton feel Kinda Weird but they eventually learn to process why and it gets Less Weird) 
Every time one of the Avengers comes to visit Peter is An Experience for Everyone. 
There’s a bit of time where Percy will mention something about the Manhattan Battle and it takes everyone else a minute to realize he’s not talking about the Chitauri Attack. 
That Angsty Stuff Tho:
All the boys deal with nightmares. Percy and Peter deal with them more often and more intensely than the others, but they all struggle with it sometimes. 
By senior year, they all learn each other’s like... trauma anniversaries. Not the nitty gritty details, but just they Get It.
Around the same time every year, Percy and Annabeth are by each other’s sides like glue for around two weeks (the Tartarus anniversary). 
The boys learn that Peter struggles on the yearly marker of the Blip (like, everyone does in some way but Peter has an especially rough time because it’s the anniversary of the fight with Thanos and Tony’s death).
 Hiccup kind of retreats into his own on the anniversary of his dad’s death. 
Danny usually gets a little aggravated and aggressive around the anniversary of him getting Ghost Zoned. 
Likewise, the girls learn how to help each other (especially MJ and Sam helping Annabeth around the Tartarus mark.
One time, Peter asked Percy about his camp necklace. Specifically the bead with all the names. Percy told him pretty much everything. 
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Hey! I’m currently taking requests! Requests are currently open for Spider-Man/ Peter Parker, Bucky, Wanda, Nat and Loki. I might eventually branch out and do the other characters but for now I’d like to stick to those 3.
Important: if you want anything specific please put it in the request with the prompt. Example if you want the reader to be related to be related to another character, a certain aspect to the character, or certain race and gender. So please put the pronouns you want in your request and if you have any other details those too.
“Just calm down, things will be fine.”“My wife is being held at gunpoint and you think now is a suitable time to tell me to calm down.”
“Please don’t let me fall.” - “Never.”
“You take me instead, do you hear me? Give her/him/them back and you take me instead.”
* “Don’t tell me you’re fine, I can see the blood!”
“If you’re watching this then that means I didn’t make it.”
“No you can’t braid my hair.” “Come on please? Pretty please? For me?”
“Maybe if you actually stop staring at her and talk to her, you might have a chance.”
“You can sleep now. I’ll fight the bad dreams off if they come to get you.”
“You can’t have her and it’s killing you inside.”
“How many did you take? Open your mouth, I need to see.” (TW)
“The way he watches you. like he’s ready to take a bullet for you.” “Is that a bad thing?”
“Take my gun and go with Sam, please I don’t want to hurt you. I can’t hurt you” - “You won’t hurt me.” - “Please. Just do it.” (Bucky specific)
“Keep your hands over your ears, do you hear me? Even when the noises stop. Don’t listen.”
“It was working until you showed up, you Damn (nickname)! I mean, this isn’t fair. You had your chance with her! You had your chance and you blew it! And this is my chance and I am not going to blow it because we are meant for each other! And this is all just been one stupid mistake! I was gonna propose tonight.
“My mom told me to Never trust a man that can dance.”
“You’re absolutely beautiful.” He sighed into my hair. “And your ex-boyfriend is an absolute moron for letting a girl like you go.” “Yeah you are you dope now let’s go get some dinner.”
"I hate seeing you two be all coupley in public when I'M the one you're fucking."
"Hey! Wait for me my prince!". Loki stopped dead in his tracks, his breath shallow and wondering why that voice still made them feel this way. (Loki specific)
you obviously can't be trusted to take care of yourself, so let me do it for you.
“(She/he/they) don’t belong with (her/him/them)!” “Than who do(es) (she/he/they) belong with?” “…..with me.”
“You can cut me, bruise me and skin me alive, but you won’t take her from me.”
“You broke her heart and came back for more, you bastard.”
The pictures below are also prompts ( 23 and 24) you can request!
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sunshineandaisies · a day ago
Eight Letters
Words: 935
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Warnings: language, the briefest mention of sex, ANGST
Inspired by: 8 Letters - Why Don't We
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There are so many things that Peter loves about you.
He loves the way your tongue peaks out between your lips when you’re concentrating too hard on your chemistry homework. He loves the way you doodle in the margins of your notebook when you get bored in history class. He loves the way you draw patterns on the back of his hand absentmindedly during movie nights with Ned and MJ. He loves the way your nose scrunches slightly and your eyes crinkle when you laugh. He loves the way you look with nothing but his baggy t-shirt on.
He could go on and on.
There are so many things that Peter loves about you, but he just can’t bring himself to admit - to himself or to you or to anyone else - that he loves you.
It’s not that he doesn’t want to love you. It’s just that people he’s lost people that he loves.
He loved his parents, and they died. He loved Uncle Ben, and he died. He loved Tony, and he died.
Sure, there are plenty of other people that he loves - like Aunt May, Ned, and little Morgan - that he still has, but he doesn’t want to risk it.
Peter doesn’t want to lose you too, so he doesn’t say it, doesn’t acknowledge just how deeply he feels for you.
And some days he wonders if that’s fair to you, to deprive you of something you so freely have him months ago. The little 'I love you' had tumbled from your lips so easily as you laid tangled in the sheets beneath him, breathless and beautiful and so entirely too good for someone who felt as broken as he did. After that day, you spoke the words often, but you never expected anything from him in return.
You wait so patiently for him, and for that alone Peter wants to love you. You gave so much of yourself to him - your time, your body, your heart - and Peter wants to return the favor, but he just...can’t.
He’s come close to telling you what he knows you want to hear. He’s come so goddamn close, but every time the words are at the tip of his tongue, he swallows them whole and pushes the feelings down, down, down, down until they’ve disappeared from his mind completely. It’s like the minute he finally gives in to just how strongly he feels for you, you’ll slip through his fingers one way or another, and he’s not sure he could survive that.
He was still raw from Tony’s death, after all, and if he lost you now...
He’s pulled from his thoughts by a light flick on his forehead, and he lifts his eyes from his still blank assignment to see you smiling softly at him. “I can literally feel you thinking too hard, Pete,” you tell him, and though there’s a teasing lilt to your voice, he can see just how concerned you are in your eyes. “Wanna talk about it?”
He smiles at you in return, but the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “No, it’s nothing,” he lies. You see right through him, just as you always do when he gets like this. He cups your face, the pad of his thumb brushing over your cheekbone tenderly. “I’m fine. I promise.”
You don’t push, you don’t prod. You never do. Instead, you give him the time he needs to sort through his thoughts and feelings, knowing that eventually he’ll open up. And when he does, you’ll listen closely, give advice if the situation warrants it, and reassure him that everything’s okay despite the worst of his worries.
It’s one of the many things that he loves about you.
“I love you, you know,” you say instead, leaning forward to press your forehead against his. Your breath fans over his face, smelling of the spearmint gum that you’re always chewing on, and the familiarity of it, of you, helps him relax just enough to forget his fears for a moment. Your fingertips trail down the length of his arm to his hand, entangling your hand in his.
You help ground him, anchoring him to you and to the present, and, again, he thinks you deserve to be loved in a way that he’s not sure he can. You deserve so much more than he can give you.
He wants to tell you as much, but Peter also wants to be selfish and never let you go.
So instead, he says, “I know.”
You don’t deflate when he doesn’t say it back. You don’t frown or rip your hand from his or run from the room in anger and frustration and sadness. Instead, your smile grows wider before you press your lips to his.
Peter feels the guilt creep in, slowly overtaking the fear, and he wants to just say it so badly. He wants to tell you, over and over and over again until you’re sick of hearing it. But he doesn’t. He can’t.
“Y/N, I-” He tries, he really fucking tries, but he chokes on the words. Why is it so hard to just tell you what you deserve to hear? Why is it so hard to say it back? He feels so frustrated and so, so goddamn undeserving of you, and it hurts to think that he could be hurting you by not saying it back.
It shouldn’t be this hard.
You press your lips to his again and squeeze his hand reassuringly. “It’s okay, Pete. I know.” Another kiss pressed against his lips. “I know. I promise I know.”
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myoafflowerlight · a day ago
String Of Fate
Pairing: Peter Parker x Fem!Reader
Soulmate AU: red string of fate
Warning(s): angst, mild language
Summary: Y/n and Peter were lucky to find each other at a young age. Most people find there soulmate somewhere later in life, there string was unbreakable, until someone broke it.
a/n: this is after endgame so Tony is no longer with us :,( I’m thinking about making this into a series, let me know if I should.
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The string of fate is something that brings people together.
It connects people through friendship and love.
That red string of fate is unbreakable.
Well it was....
Until someone broke it....
And the two were never the same...
You already found him. The person your supposed spend the rest of your life with and live happily ever after.
You and Peter luckily met at a young age. The red string burst with life once you walked into the classroom.
It was the first day of school, preschool.
The string was tied around both of your left ring finger. It’s known as the vein that lead straight to your heart.
Everyone was shocked by the red light that filled the room. Most people don’t meet there soulmate until high school.
━━ ☆・*。
Peter was out on his Spider-Man patrol. The night has already fallen, but you’re still there, in his room. Waiting for him to get back safely like you always do. His been out there longer then usual.
Ever since he lost Tony he hasn’t been the same. His ditched you or stood you up to go out to save the city. He doesn’t want to talk about the loss of Tony, and if someone brought it up he would just push past it.
May already went to bed, having to get up early to go to work. So you lay in his bed hoping he’d be alright when you heard the window slide open.
It could be one too two people, Peter, or someone that has been stalking you for the past two months and is now taking the chance to kidnap you.
It was just Peter. You got stood up off from the bed.
Once he closed the window he noticed you. “Y/n why are you still here?”
“I was waiting for you to get back safely, why were you out so late?”
“I just wanted to stay out a while longer, is May still up?” He walked over to his closet
“No she has to get up early.” You sat back on his bed.
“Your staying over?” He got finished changing
“Yeah, why?” He never really has a problem with you staying over “oh nothing, I just have to get some school work done”
It’s now been a good 30 minutes with Peter doing work, you look over at him at his desk.
“Do you need any help Pete?” You slowly started getting up, making your way to him, you placed both of your hands on his shoulders and rested your chin on his left shoulder.
“Huh?” He said. His eyes never leaving the paper in front of him. Though it was a fairly easy question, it was just a review and he just stared at it.
“Do you need any help? I can’t stand being on the bed without you, the bed is empty without you,” you said.
“No I don’t need any help, I’m just really tired,” he said irritated
“That’s what you always say, it’s okay to ask for help, there’s nothing wrong with that.”
He turned to you with dark circles under his eyes, you already knew he wasn’t getting good enough sleep, and whenever you tried to help he’d just wave you off.
“It’s just a review y/n, I can do this in my sleep.”
“If you can’t do this when your awake, I doubt that you can do this when you’re asleep.” You mumbled, moving away from him.
He glared at you. It wasn’t a flirtatious glare. It was a glare that you’ve never seen him use before, and it scared you.
“If you can’t wait for me to finish then you can go home. I didn’t ask you to stay up late and wait for me.”
Your mouth fell open, you wanted to say something but nothing came out. Words that you can easily say, just died in your throat. You took a step back and shook your head. You grabbed your bag and looked back at him.
“Fine.” Was all you said, with that you left.
Peter stood up. The sound of the door slamming shut rung through his ears. It got louder after you shut the front door.
He looked over on his bed spotting the brown teddy bear you got him for Valentine’s Day.
He stared at its fake black eyes and its plastered smile.
He swung his closet doors open and stuffed in the poor little bear. He shut the doors and locked it.
He couldn’t sleep that night, he just stared at his plain white door.
━━ ☆・*。
By the time you got back the sun started to rise. All the lights where off when you got home. Your parents probably expected for you to stay at Peter’s.
All the time spent together, you never seen him use that tone. Especially with you. There was a tug in stomach from just that thought.
There was a sharp pain crawling up your left arm. You slowly looked down. The string was still there, tied to you left ring finger, but this time...the color...was dull.
━━ ☆・*。
The next day at school just made things worse. Being in the same class, you had to see him again. The pit in your stomach grew bigger from not talking to him. Since the day you’ve two met, there hasn’t been a day where you haven’t spoken to him.
The pit in your stomach only grew for the rest of your day. You kept glancing over at him, hoping he’d look back, hoping that there was still something inside of him that knew he had to apologize. But he only stayed quiet, he had his head down, and occasionally exchanging words with Ned.
For the first time ever. You sat at lunch alone.
━━ ☆・*。
You stood in front of Peter’s door. It had been days since you two have spoken to each other.
To you, that was pure torture.
Everyday since you tried to talk to him, and got nothing in return.
You kept reaching up to knock, but your brain said something, and it fell. It was after school and you have been standing outside his door for five minutes before the door opened. Peter towered over you like the first time you met. Only this time he didn’t meet your eyes.
“Did you need something?” The last time you talked he sounded angry and irritated, but now he just sounds tired.
“Why have you been avoiding me?” You asked. You lost your patience with him. You just want an answer from the person who never kept secrets from you.
“I’m not avoiding you.” He said, still not meeting your eyes.
You huffed “that’s bullshit.” Your voice sounded so stern and cold that he flinched from you. Even you flinched yourself.
What you hated the most was that you didn’t know why Peter was acting like this towards you. There was no reason for any of this.
“I—I don’t know what you want me say,”
“I don’t care what you say!” You exclaimed. “At least talk to me, say something, anything. Why have you been acting like this? Why are you so cold towards me? What did I do? What did I say that was so wrong? Give me a reason Peter! Something! We are fated with each other no matter what.”
Peter sighed, he pushed his hair back, and rubbed his eyes. “Sometimes even fate isn’t meant to be.”
You froze. And just stared at him.
And just like that, you felt the string detach from your finger and the light died.
Published: 5/4/2021
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uselesssomebody · a day ago
𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕝? (𝕀) - peter parker x reader
original wattpad post
part 2
"𝕘𝕠𝕕 𝕕𝕒𝕞𝕟 𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥, 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕓𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝕠𝕗 𝕞𝕖"
𝟙𝟛𝟟𝟘 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕤
gonna do a fat peter x reader dump - just bringing stuff from my wattpad. i'll make some new stuff super soon too - please to request or just let me know any characters i should write about.
this one's switches from first and third person so i do apologize - bit shit because it's quite old.
"You WHAT?!" I shouted through the phone, nearly dropping the comb I had been using to brush my hair.
"YES! Look, it was a small argument, and he took it way too far. I really need you here." I sighed.
"Fine, but you're going to pay for transport."
"Of course." I could almost hear the smug smile he had plastered on his face. "See you tonight!"
"TONIGHT?! YOU NEVE- oh, he hung up on me." I grunted in annoyance, before walking out of my bedroom and into the living room.
"Hey, what's up? I heard some shouting." Y/BF/N was peeking out from on the couch, looking concerned. It was early morning, and she was preparing for the movie marathon we had scheduled today.
"Yeah, sorry. Stark said I needed to be somewhere in Germany tonight." She looked a little disappointed, but nodded understandingly.
"Okay...?" Suddenly her face lit up. "I'll help you pack! You've got to take that new sweater you just got!" I smiled at her childish enthusiasm.
12 years ago
"Mom, who is he?" The young girl looked up at her mother, pointing at the man who was sitting in the living room and speaking with her father.
"It's okay, Y/N. It's okay." Her mother pulled her close to her chest, facing her away from the living room. Y/N's ears were covered by her mother's hands, but she could still hear everything. It was so loud. Y/N and her mother just stood there, with the incessant sounds of shouting penetrating the walls. Y/N tried to hear what was happening, but it was all muffled.
The next thing she remembered was her mother waking her up and telling her to get ready quickly. Through her hazy, tired eyes, she could see her mother pushing things into an old bag feverishly. The tone of her mother's voice was so scared that Y/N listened to her without question. She immediately put on one of the colorful sundresses she had in her closet, and then followed her mother back to the front door. The stark contrast between herself and the man next to her surprised her. While she was in a yellow and pink, floral sundress, the man was in a fully grey suit, accompanied by a black tie. Y/N tore her eyes away from the bland man, and shifted them to a fairly large leather bag, which was slumped against a cupboard. Y/N watched as her father picked it up, and reluctantly pushed it into the man's waiting hands. Her mother crouched down, and turned her around so they were face to face. Her mother pulled her in before Y/N could see her face, but from the sudden feeling of teardrops on her neck and back, she could figure out that her mother was crying. Before Y/N could even wrap her arms around her mother in return, the man grabbed her small hand and started dragging her out of her house.
"What's happening, Daddy?" Were the only words she could get out of her mouth before the front door closed and she was pulled into a car.
She came to a tall, boxy and windowless building, one that she would spend the next 7 years in.
She stayed in a small room with a rickety bed and a small, small table. It wasn't a room, it was a cell. She didn't see much of anyone, and she was fed only 2 meals a day, both consisting of bread, water and the occasional fruit or vegetable. The only times that she would meet anyone was once a week, when the man who collected her would come in and escort her to another room. It was very similar to the one she stayed in, except it was bigger, and it had a table and chair in the middle of the room. She would be told to sit down and, and was told to go to sleep. For the first few weeks, she couldn't do it, and was instead given water with small white particles in it. After drinking it, she would wake up hours later with a headache, before being escorted to her room. After a year of this cycle, something changed. She was given a feather instead, and was told to lift it. She reached to grab it, but the man lightly smacked her hand away, before correcting himself.
"Do it with your mind." She was confused by this, so she was dragged out to look at another person. She watched as he lifted a bag without coming anywhere near it. For some reason, she wasn't that shocked, but she immediately understood what she was supposed to do.
Still, it took her a couple month to learn to lift it. When she finally did it, it was only for a couple of seconds, but it was progress. Over the years, she learned to pick up bigger, heavier things. She would have to look at it, and would imagine someone lifting it up. Her head would hurt, but the pain would be short-lived, and the object would be levitating. One her last visit, she had been able to pick up the entire table, and place it on the opposite end of the room.
It was the 13/04/XXXX when the man made a life-changing mistake. There was hardly ever anybody in the building. She never knew where they were, but that wasn't her largest priority. She was being escorted back when she heard a large crashing noise at the end of the hall. The man must have also heard it, because he immediately ran to it. Stupidly, he left the door wide open. Y/N peeked out of the door, and saw that he had disappeared into a room. She took this opportunity to quietly exit her room. She ran down a long flight of stairs, hearing some noises from the rooms on each floor, but she ignored them, and continued running. She reached the bottom of the building, and saw the first window in years, she was almost blinded by the sunlight peeking out of the trees. She tried to dig her fingers under it, attempting to open it, but the attempt was futile. She stopped for a second, before concentrating on the small pane of glass. She stared at it, imagining a silhouette pushing open the window. At this point, she started hearing distressed shouts from the man upstairs, but she ignored them as she creaked the window open. She started hearing a faint alarm from upstairs, but she continued ignoring everything. She pulled herself up to the window sill, and jumped out onto the grass outside. She hurriedly put the window back in it's place, before running over the grass. She made her way to a small path, but couldn't see anything but trees. She continued running and running, until she found a house. She could only hear the birds above her, but she still attempted to see if anyone was inside. She knocked quietly on the door, and waited for a minute of two.
Finally , the door opened and Y/N was greeted by a brunette woman. She looked down at her, confusion and worry on the woman's face.
"Are you alright?" She asked, tentatively speaking.
"I-I need s-some help, please help me." Y/N spoke weakly, as she hadn't spoken much in the past seven years. She was close to tears.
She was invited in, into the small house. She was questioned about who she was and where she was from, and the woman was surprisingly understanding of her situation. Y/N learned that she was in the house of Maria Hill, who let her stay there for the night. The next day, she was taken to see several different people, who were a lot nicer to her. They gave her proper food, comfortable clothes, and soothing assurances. She finally came in contact with a face she would be familiar with for years. Anthony Stark.
He spoke to her, inquired for her powers, and offered her a place to stay.
The offer was heartfelt, and she immediately accepted it.
She had been able to move out of Tony's apartment a couple months back, and she had been renting an apartment with his money.
She owed him everything.
But Germany? By the end of the day? It was just a bit far.
yeah the build up's a bit shit. like why maria? anyways, hope you enjoyed.
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hayhays · a day ago
Battle Scars
Peter Parker x Reader
Warnings: swearing, talks about cuts (injury)
Word count: 812
Peter had gone out on patrol for the night and it was now 10:30 at night, and you were tired. He said that he would be back around nine o’clock, but here you were now, pacing the room and calling his phone about a hundred times. You were about to call it a night and go to sleep when you heard a knock at your window. You got up to open it, knowing it was Peter. He stumbled in taking his suit off as well.
“Where the hell were you? You said you would be back an hour and a half ago!” You weren’t evening look at him, you were so mad. It was an understatement to say that you were mad; you were livid. He had always promised to come back home on time, but here lately he had been getting back really late.
“Y/N. I need you to calm down please,” he said softly.
“Calm down? You want me to calm down, after worrying so much about your ass?” You turned around now facing him. You continued on with your rambling as he lifted his suit off his side. You immediately stopped and looked at him with worry in your eyes.
“Oh my god. What happened?” All of your anger subsided when he showed you a nasty cut that probably looked infected as well. It started at his ribcage and went around to his stomach. You got up and went to grab the first aid kit you kept for him. You had patched up some pretty bad cuts and wounds from his patrol nights before, but this one was probably the worst one. You sat down on the bed next to him and got to work.
“There was a robbery on 181st and when I was dealing with one of the guys, the other stabbed me when I wasn’t looking. My senses didn’t even warn me about it because I guess I was too focused on the one trying to get away.” He looked up at you with sad eyes and winced when you touched it with the peroxide.
“Sorry,” you mumbled.
“No, it’s okay.” He paused. “Y/N, I need to tell you something.”
“What is it, babe?”
“I don’t think we should be together anymore,” he said it so low and quiet that he didn’t think that you heard him. You kept working on his cut, your tone changing slightly. “And why is that?” You started wrapping up his cut.
“Because of this,” he signaled his hand between the cut and you. “Because of nights like tonight where I keep you up worrying about me and if I’m safe. I hate that you have to keep patching me up for my injuries, because I know you think it’s gross and everything,” he rambled. “But what if there’s one night that I promise to come back…and I don’t.” He whispered the last part hoping you didn’t hear it. You held his face in your hands to make him look at you.
“Pete. Please don’t say shit like that, ever again.” You looked at him with teary eyes. You moved your hand down to meet his and intertwined your fingers, and kissed his hand. “There is nothing more that I love than patching you up at night. And honestly, I don’t mind it as much anymore.” You smiled at him sincerely. “When we first got together, and you told me about Spider-Man, I told you that I’d never leave you. That hasn’t changed. I’m not going anywhere.”
He released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I’m sorry to put you through this.”
“Don’t be sorry for saving people and helping others. You’re doing something that is amazing and no one else could do better than you. I don’t mind fixing your wounds if it means I get to be with you. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me, Peter Parker. There is no one else I’d rather worry at night than you. I love you.” You squeezed his hand in reassurance and he looked up at you with tears in his eyes as well.
“I love you too.” You pulled him into you and kissed him softly. You pulled away and packed up the medical stuff and set it back in the bathroom cabinet. He laid down waiting for you and you laid down next to him. You wrapped your arms around him, this time him being the little spoon because sometimes he needed to be held just as much as you. You played with his hair as he laid his head on your chest. He gave your collarbone a soft kiss and slowly drifted to sleep. You fell asleep listening to his soft snores and the feeling of his chest raising slightly and going back down, knowing that he was now safe in your arms.
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hey-marlie · 2 days ago
IF YOU NEED ME -- Ch. 3: Words
SUMMARY: cindy says ‘i’m here and ready to party,’ y/n literally cannot catch a break, and we would all die for jessica drew don’t @ me
Word Count: 18.6k
Warnings: old faces, new faces, not as much swearing as usual, mentions of an IV if that’s an ‘oof’ for you
series masterlist
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“There are words that can make you happy. And there’s words that can make you sad. And sometimes there’s words that can cause you confusion. And there’s a few words sometimes regret. Oh there’s three words that I long to hear. Especially if they’re true. If you mean it, let me hear you say it (I love you). Right now, right now (I love you). Yes, I do. (You know I do). There’s words that can just soothe all aches and pains. And there’s words that can make the teardrops fall like rain. And there’s a little words that could keep an army from goin’ to war. But these words oh I’ve never ever heard before.” - Solomon Burke
* * *
Peter truly had thought of everything when he opened the large closet to your new bedroom and pulled out a change of clothes. He handed you your leggings, your favorite white crop, and one of his large flannels before pushing your sneakers out from the back without a second thought.
Your look of serious confusion caused him to chuckle, "What?"
"When did you steal my leggings?"
"I was nervous you'd notice they were missing," he laughed, "I grabbed them the night before our anniversary. Figured we'd stay the night here and then in the morning we could go down to the park, but that's obviously not going to happen now."
"They aren't exactly work clothes," you mused, looking at some of your favorite lounging clothes in your arms.
Peter scoffed and rolled his eyes, "I don't think Tony is going to mind. Here," Peter handed you a towel that was hanging and kissed your forehead, "Let's just shower quickly and we can be on our way."
"But Cindy's waiting downstairs," you clutched your clothes to your chest, "It would be rude to make her wait."
"We smell like sex."
"You're right. She can wait," you said quickly before darting into the large bathroom.
Peter jogged to the door and called downstairs, "We're going to shower quickly and we'll be right down!"
"I'm eating this cake!" Cindy called back, to which Peter smirked.
"You have my shampoo," you cooed softly as Peter stripped quickly and followed you into the gorgeous rainfall shower. He laughed, noticing you standing there naked and pouting like a child holding your favorite shampoo.
"You're not going to believe this, peaches, but I do pay attention to every little detail of your life," Peter stepped under the water and let the water fall over his face, "Plus, I thought it would be nice to smell like you for a bit."
The shower was quick and felt nice and refreshing, and as you brushed your teeth Peter dried your hair as best he could before the two of you were scrambling back down the stairs where Cindy was waiting in the kitchen.
"I think the wig is stupid and ridiculous," Peter said, pulling her into a hug.
Cindy rolled her eyes but allowed Peter to twirl her around in a circle before he put her back down. You were doing your best to get the last of the knots out of your hair as you reached for your jean jacket, and that's when Cindy's eyes landed on you.
"It's really nice to finally meet you," Cindy walked over and offered her hand, "P's talked a lot about you."
"She's a busy woman," Peter noted, "Always running off to change someone's life."
You scoffed, "I was running off to class, which wasn't the most life-changing."
Cindy's hand was nice and warm, the same slightly warmer temperature that Peter's skin ran, and you felt your cheeks burn at the thought. She was taller than you and up close for the first time you noticed just how flawless she truly was.
Her eyes were a warm brown that caught the light as she smiled. "Well, regardless, it's nice to finally meet."
"It's really nice to meet you too, Cindy," you told her as warmly as you could, "It's an honor to meet you, honestly. I've also heard tons about you from everyone."
"Yeah she's a real saint," Peter snorted, pouring the champagne into the tumbler in his bag just as he said he was going to.
"You're not actually going to drink that at work, are you?" you asked, raising an accusatory eyebrow.
"No," Peter laughed, "I'm just going to slowly add it to Harley's thermos whenever he's not looking and see how drunk I can get him throughout the day."
"Genius," Cindy beamed as you gapped at him.
"You can't do that," you reminded him while Peter took your hand and the two of you headed to the door with Cindy in tow. "You're kidding ... right?"
"Of course I'm kidding, peaches," he laughed, "I mean, I'd really love to and maybe I would have at one point, but I know how to be professional."
"Sounds like you're being boring," Cindy mused, putting on her sunglasses.
"I think the pink hair actually looks nice," you told her, noticing how it caught in the light, "That wig is really real looking."
"Thanks, I swiped it from MJ," Cindy tossed some of it over her shoulder, "I never would have thought she and Harley would start dating."
"They bonded over their mutual hatred," Peter grumbled.
"Hatred for...?" Cindy asked.
"Peter," you smirked, watching as Peter grumbled under his breath.
It was a crisp fall day as the three of you walked back towards Stark Industries. Cindy whined about why you all couldn't just stop there so she could get into her lab and you mentioned that you'd be happy to help her do so, but Peter reminded you that he had to drop off the new papers for May first thing or else she'd be mad.
"You know how she gets about this stuff," Peter reminded you, "College is the one thing she's still paying for that she feels responsible for, so she takes it seriously and wants all new files and bills to her the second I get them."
"You're going to pay her back for college once you graduate, aren't you?" you said, gripping his arm as you crossed the street.
"It's already put aside," Peter nodded, "I'll just drop it into her account and she'll be none the wiser."
"You also thought she'd be none the wiser when we snuck out for Flash's pool party junior year," Cindy reminded him, "And how did that go?"
"I don't want to talk about it," Peter bit his lip.
"How did it go?" you asked, egging Cindy on.
"Well, first we thought we were in the clear, and then halfway through the party May showed up to the party herself and literally dragged Peter by the ear back towards the car. But not before she decided that pushing him into the pool would probably be a good punishment in front of all our classmates."
"Oh my God," you stifled your laughter as Peter's jaw set in an annoyed fashion, "And what did you do?" you asked her.
"I jumped in after him," Cindy sighed, "I felt bad for him."
As you rounded the corner to approach FEAST, you pulled your hand from Peter's. "I'll take Cindy to get some coffee while you talk to May," you told him.
"I'll meet you there," he told you before bending down to give you a kiss.
Last-minute without even thinking about it, you subconsciously ducked your head sideways so his lips met your cheek. Your eyes fluttered to Cindy's for a moment and you noticed her watching closely as you cleared your throat and stepped back from him, adjusting your jacket.
Peter looked a bit confused for a moment but he dropped it, giving the two of you a small wave before heading into FEAST.
"Right this way," you cleared your throat awkwardly before directing Cindy to next door.
You were about to open the door for her when she stopped, looking up at the awning. "Huh," she whispered, taking a step back to get a better look.
Your palms started to sweat and you felt your heart drop in your chest. With everything going on, you'd completely forgotten about Moonshine and the implications behind it.
"Shit. Right ... um -"
"Is that my handwriting?" Cindy asked, pointing up to 'Moonshine Café' in bold lettering over the shop.
"Okay please don't freak out," you held your hands up in defense, "So I started the charitable café at Stark Industries as my first project and I named it Stark Roast because, you know, Stark's name and stuff. But when he wanted to expand he didn't want another Stark Roast because he doesn't really like the name? And I already had the one roast named after your charitable organization at that café and Peter was missing you and so I thought that naming the place 'Moonshine' might be a funny sort of pun while also, you know, paying homage to you and so -"
"Whoa whoa you're talking so fast," Cindy cut you off, "You named a place after me?"
"There's a photo of you and all your friends inside," you admitted, "A-And I named a charitable organization after you at Stark Roast that puts money towards stopping animal testing because Peter said you liked animals and wanted to be a vet. So ... I ... am now realizing how creepy it all feels? But you were dead so ..."
Cindy looked insanely confused and you were frozen in your spot, unsure of what to say. You felt the need to explain yourself further, but you weren't sure just how much Cindy was ready to hear.
"I don't understand," she finally stated, "You don't even know me."
"But a lot of people did, and they missed you," you whispered, "And a lot of what charity is, is bringing warmth and a positive influence into people's lives. You were that for a lot of people before you were taken from them, so I wanted to do my part to remind everyone of ... you."
"Huh," Cindy muttered.
"And a bit of guilt," you admitted, feeling your voice waver as the gummy tears were starting to stick to your throat, "Since I'm dating Peter and you were dating Peter and he still missed you a lot."
"Oh," Cindy raised her eyebrows, "Well, that's stupid."
"Oh. Okay."
"No, no. Not like that," Cindy waved her hand out quickly before rubbing her temples, "Just that, well, like you said - I was dead. So why shouldn't Peter start looking for someone new."
"Ah," you cleared your throat while nodding slowly, "If it makes this whole situation better, he didn't start looking for someone new. For years, actually. And then when he started to feel something for me he actually pushed it away and didn't talk to me for a while, ruining our friendship. So ... it took him a very, very long time to get over you."
"I see," Cindy whispered.
"In fact sometimes I wonder if he even is over you," you laughed uncomfortably, "How stupid of me. Anyways! Coffee."
You finally opened the door and ushered Cindy inside, cursing yourself out internally for saying such ridiculous and personal things. Usually, your friends just let you ramble until you got everything out, but Cindy cutting you off had left so many unsaid thoughts scrambled in your head.
But you did your best to shake them all off as you started to be greeted by some of the workers.
"Y/N!" Mabel, one of the baristas you'd first hired, waved to you as you entered, "We haven't seen you for a few days."
"I was super busy," you sighed while Mabel handed you your usual work files, "How have things been?"
"Great," she smiled, "And we're still planning that open mic night for Friday, right?"
"I think it should be a weekly thing for sure," you agreed.
"Great. I'll get working on your iced chai now. You still like it dirty?"
"The dirtier the better," you chuckled, looking over some of the logs.
"And is Peter around? He's usually barely an arm's length from you. In fact, I'm pretty sure last time his hand was in your back pocket the entire time," Mabel smirked, watching as you became flustered.
"Oh!" you laughed nervously, "Yes, hilarious," you dared a quick glance to Cindy to see she was watching you with an unreadable expression, "He's ... well, he might be here. Soon."
"And he still only drinks black coffee to prove a point?"
"If you put two sugars in it, he wouldn't complain," you said feebly, "Thanks, Mabel."
"Duh," Mabel smiled brightly, "And for your friend?"
Mabel turned to Cindy and Cindy startled slightly at being spoken to. Even though Cindy had lived in this world for most of her life, and you knew that she hadn't been as restrained as Jessica, you'd forgotten that Cindy was just as much the isolated victim having been locked away for so many years.
"Oh uh ... I haven't had coffee in a while," Cindy mused, "What do you recommend?"
She turned to you and you opened your mouth, but nothing came out. Cindy was asking your opinion? And she seemed serious about it? You couldn't tell if she was patronizing you, but you startled to think of something quickly.
"She'll have a lavender hot milk tea," you told Mabel quickly, "And we'll be at my table."
You grasped Cindy's arm softly before pulling her in the direction of your work table. She sat down across from you and sat back, crossing her arms, "How did you know I like lavender?"
You shrugged and cleared your throat before mumbling, "Peter drinks lavender boba tea whenever he misses you, and he'll go to the boba shop the two of you loved every year on your birthday. I deduced it wasn't a lavender craving that Peter had considering he pouts like a child at all sweet foods and likes things to be stupidly bland and boring, so I figured you were the one who had a thing for lavender."
"So you're a detective?"
"I'm an observant girlfriend with a boyfriend who has gone through many traumas in his life," you said, looking up at her, "And so I need to be aware of his tendencies so I can adequately care for him when he needs me."
Cindy nodded slowly, "Gotcha."
You put down your work and sighed, clasping your hands together in front of you on the table as you felt an inner flame start to boil within your body. Cindy looked back at you expectantly and you lifted your chin up a bit higher.
"I understand that you must hate me," you started off, "And you have to know that had the circumstances been different and your life not been taken from you in such an awful and unfair way, I'm sure you and Peter would be very happy together. But the circumstances led to the two of you having to work through years of loneliness and I was there to see the deepest loneliness of Peter's life right before he almost went over the edge. Now, if you still have feelings for Peter -"
"I'm always going to have feelings for Peter," Cindy cut you off, "Not because I want to, or because I want to be with him. But because we're two halves of a very sticky and webbed coin that connects us in ways normal humans will never understand."
"So ... where does that leave us?" you asked pointedly, "Because you mean a lot to Peter and I don't want to get in the way of the two of you being in one another's lives again."
Mabel came over and placed your drinks down, smiling at the two of you as if she didn't sense the awkward tension. You waited until she was gone before continuing.
"But I love Peter," you said softly, "I love him so much that sometimes I feel like there's a whole star inside of me that might just burst. It's like I've stuffed a whole galaxy inside my chest filled with my emotions for him and my ribs are barely keeping it together."
You sniffled as you did your best to keep the tears at bay, but something deep inside of you was coming alive and you felt powerful, even in the face of the gorgeous woman you'd almost allowed to take your boyfriend.
"I'll admit the second you returned I thought things were over. I thought that Peter would leave me immediately and that that would be it. But he bought us a house and he's talking about the future and he gave me this -"
You pulled Ben's ring from under your shirt on the chain to show Cindy and you immediately saw recognition in her eyes.
"That's Ben's ring," she gasped, standing up and leaning over the table to grasp it between her long and nimble fingers, "The one that May wears. Peter gave this to you?"
"Well, he said that May hasn't worn it in a while so my guess is -"
"No, May wears this every day," Cindy cut you off again, "All the time I've known her she's worn it. I've never seen her without it."
"Well, I don't mean to be rude, but you've been gone for a while and -"
"She was wearing it when she bent over to give me a hug at the Night Clinic when I got back," Cindy raised an eyebrow, "Do you know what this ring is?"
"A class right. Peter told me."
"It's the promise ring that Ben proposed to May with before he had enough money to pay for a real engagement ring," Cindy told you quietly, "It's a proposal ring."
You flushed immediately and sputtered as you pulled the ring back from Cindy's grasp and tucked it back in your shirt, "No," you laughed nervously, waving her off, "It's not a proposal ring."
Cindy placed her hands together and rested them over her lips before pointing at you, "So let me get this straight. Peter bought you - bought you - a house. Like, a large ass expensive one. And he gave you a very, very special ring that he would have had to have a conversation with his aunt about to get it to give it to you. And ... what exactly could that mean to you, honey?"
"Honey is patronizing and I don't like it," you whispered, slinking back into your seat.
Cindy rolled her eyes, "Alright, Y/N, I'll level with you. I do love Peter, but not the way you do. And I'll admit that when I got here I thought being with Peter again would be nice. I mean, he's so tall now and those abs ... I would climb him like a tree."
"But you're together. And I respect that. And I see that it's taken Peter quite a long time to open himself up to have someone like you in his life. And the fact that you're constantly looking out for him without him having to ask or expect anything in return - I respect that."
"I give you my blessing."
You reacted before you meant to as you threw your head back and laughed. Cindy seemed startled by your reaction as she grasped her drink but didn't drink it.
"Sorry," you calmed yourself, "I appreciate that Cindy, I really do, but I don't ... Peter and I don't need your blessing. You know that, right?"
Cindy shrugged, "Just felt like the right thing to say."
She took a sip of her drink and moaned, looking down at it, "Fuck, this is damn good."
"I told you," you took a sip of your own drink, "Best in the city."
"Ladies," Peter appeared and slid into the booth next to you, throwing his arm around your shoulders and kissing your cheek, "May says hi," he told you quietly, "And she was very persistent that we come over next weekend for dinner."
'I wonder why' Cindy mouthed at you, pointing to her ring finger as you glared at her.
"Sounds like fun," you told Peter, "Mabel made you coffee."
"Oh. Nice," Peter grasped the mug in his hand and yawned, "Alright well, Cin, as soon as we're done with our drinks we can now get you into your lab."
"Finally," Cindy rolled her neck around and sighed as it popped, "I'm excited to crack that baby open again. I'm surprised you all kept it the way it was."
"I may have flown through the glass at one point and knocked a few things over," you mumbled, "... sorry."
"Well, did you throw yourself?" Cindy asked.
"No. I was thrown."
"Then apology accepted."
You smiled hesitantly as Peter rested his hand on the back of your neck and started massaging. He did this often whenever he could sense that your antidote patch was pinching or pulling at your skin, and usually, you didn't have to say anything before he was already doing it.
This time, however, you hadn't even noticed the discomfort until Peter started to alleviate it, and you sighed immediately, closing your eyes and slumping against him.
"Thank you," you whispered.
"Is it bothering you a lot?" he asked quietly, "We can talk to Harley about -"
"Please, no. It's really not a big deal," you placed your hand over his, "It's not something to worry about."
"Peter doesn't think so," Cindy pipped up, "In fact, I can sense that he's kicking into overdrive already planning something out in his head."
"Cin!" Peter glared as your eyes widened.
"Oh," you cleared your throat, "Well that's handy information."
"I can't help it," Cindy whispered, "Sorry."
"So you two can like ... read each other's thoughts?" you asked, gesturing between the two spidey superheroes, "How exactly does that work?"
"It's difficult to explain," Cindy clutched her drink to her chest, "It's not so much reading the other person's mind, but I can pick up on how Peter's feeling and the emotions that he's feeling. They're mostly just waves of emotions, but over the years I was able to start deciphering what the different feelings meant. Right now, for instance -"
"Cindy," Peter whispered.
"- Peter's feeling scared and helpless," Cindy continued. Her eyes were a little glazed over and she was staring at Peter intently without looking away, "You say that you're fine and that makes Peter feel scared, and when you said it wasn't a big deal, he then felt helpless. There's also a twinge of anger in there, but it's difficult to say who that's directed at because I don't know the backstory or have a single clue what the two of you are talking about, but -"
"That's enough," Peter cut her off, "Hey," he snapped his fingers in front of Cindy's face and she startled, blinking a bit before setting her drink down and clearing her throat.
"I-I'm sorry," she whispered, "It's been so long having only my own emotions inside me, you know? I grew up with yours too and then for so long ... I was alone."
Peter tensed and he felt his head spinning a bit as Cindy's emotions started to trickle into his system. She was scared, anxious, and there was a deep feeling of loss settling in his chest that made him feel cold. His skin crawled from the ever-gapping and expanding chill and he was about to get lost in Cindy's despair had you not gotten up and moved past him to sit down next to Cindy.
"Cindy," you whispered, taking her hand, "Do you need to talk to someone about what happened? Peter's been seeing a really lovely therapist and I've visited her as well in the past to deal with my own trauma. Has anyone contacted your parents to tell them -"
"No!" Cindy jerked away from your touch as you sat up straight, not wanting to crowd her space, "Sorry," she whispered, noticing she'd startled you.
Cindy's eyes wavered from you to Peter as she said, "My parents can't know. They can't."
"They've missed you so much. I'm sure they'd want to know that you're alive and -"
"I'm dead to them," Cindy said sternly, "That's the end of the story. I died years ago and they can't know that I'm here. I'm not the same person anymore, and they wouldn't know their daughter or want to call me as such once they know the things I've done to stay alive."
"None of that is your fault," you said sternly, "You did what you had to do so you could come home. And now that you're home you deserve to be happy."
Cindy looked down at your hand gripping hers tightly before she looked over at Peter, "I can see why you like her so much."
"She tends to know the right things to say," Peter mumbled before taking a sip of his coffee, "Cin, you've got to let your parents know you're alive."
"I'm not alive," she whispered, "The Cindy Moon who left this earth years ago no longer exists."
She stood and cleared her throat, adjusting her shirt, "That's been made abundantly clear to me."
Cindy started to walk out and Peter stood quickly. He started to make his way out of the café before stopping and turning to you, "I don't know what to do in this situation," he whispered, looking lost.
"You go after her," you told him, taking his coffee from his hand and pushing him towards the door.
Even though you wanted to tell him to stay and that the two of you could spend the morning together before work, you knew that Cindy's life was far more unbalanced than yours and you had no right to be selfish. So you sat down, took a breath, and started your work as Mabel brought you another chai.
Peter, on the other hand, had forgotten how fast Cindy could run. She was dodging people left and right through the streets as Peter did his best to keep up, and finally, just as he almost toppled over a group of kids on some sort of field trip, he was able to grasp Cindy by the arm and yank her into an alley.
"Get off me!" Cindy screamed, hitting at Peter's chest and arms as he tried to steady her.
"Cindy, calm down," he spoke as soothingly as he could. He wasn't good in these situations - helping people was your thing - but Cindy had made it abundantly clear that your help was not what she wanted.
Cindy's struggles caused her wig to fall off and knock to the ground as her real locks tumbled down to her shoulders. Peter grasped her face and held it in his hands as she finally looked up at him. Her eyes were red and she was flushed, breathing heavily, and Peter could sense the panic radiating off of her.
"You're safe here," he whispered, "No one is going to hurt you and no one here wants to. You're home."
"This isn't my home!" Cindy sobbed, "Nothing's the same! Y-You ... You're - well, you don't love me anymore and there's some sweet little miss perfect walking around on your arm! And I've killed people so my parents can't know I'm alive and I'm supposed to keep it together when the one person who I was hoping would fix all my problems is fucking someone else!"
Cindy's screams only escalated as Peter held her a bit tighter, pulled her face into his chest, and wrapped his arms around her in his unbreakable grasp.
"Listen," he demanded, "Listen to my heart. Close your eyes and listen to my heart and sense whether I still love you or not."
Slowly Cindy's anxious pushing of him away started to cease as she gripped his shirt and breathed deeply, trying to even it out. Her forehead nestled into his chest as she clung to him and after a short amount of time, she sniffled.
"Sorry," she whispered, "I'm sorry."
"You have nothing to apologize for," Peter said softly while combing his fingers through her hair.
"I said I was fine," she mumbled, "I lied. I'm not."
"I know."
"You knew I was lying?"
"I can sense everything about you," Peter reminded her, "Of course I knew you were lying. Did I feel a little bit of relief knowing you were still brave enough to hold your head up high? Of course. But you don't have to all the time."
"She's nice," Cindy muttered.
"I know."
"Maybe a little too nice."
"I'm working on that," Peter smirked.
"It's just really hard," Cindy admitted, pulling away from him so Peter could get a good look at her, "I know I said I was okay with it and at the time I really think I actually meant it. But then you opened the door this morning and there she was. There you both were. And that was the future I envisioned for us, right? But then it was all taken from me - from us - and now you're living our life with some other girl."
"She's not another girl, Cindy," Peter reminded her softly, "She's my girlfriend and I love her so much."
"I know you proposed," Cindy scoffed, "I saw the ring."
"Whoa," Peter cleared his throat, "I didn't propose."
Cindy rolled her eyes as she waved him off and started to pace a bit, "It's basically a proposal. That was Ben's proposal ring."
"She doesn't know that."
"I told her," Cindy stated flatly, "When I saw it. I told her."
"You told -" Peter groaned and rubbed his eyes, "Why would you tell her?"
"It's not like I can help it!" Cindy whined back.
"You definitely can help it! This is like debate club all over again!" Peter hissed, "You said you were fine with me pairing up with Liz and then I find out you've been feeding Ned all my secrets about my crush on Liz behind my back."
"That's not what I did!" Cindy gasped, offended, "He started asking questions so I told him! He was your best friend."
"You were my best friend!"
"I see now that we may have had a few misunderstandings when we were younger -"
"Yes, which is odd considering we're two people who can literally feel each other's emotions and motives," Peter grumbled, "Explain how a miscommunication could possibly happen?"
Cindy pouted and crossed her arms, "You're going to start saying I'm selfish again, aren't you?"
"It's like you read my mind," Peter said sarcastically.
Cindy remained quiet and stopped pacing. Peter noticed she was fiddling with her fingers the way she did when she was super stressed and he sighed, rubbing his temple, "I missed you so much," he croaked, "Like you said, I lost a part of me. I was suddenly alone - both on the inside and the outside. I felt ..."
"Hollow?" Cindy whispered.
"Unbearably hollow," Peter agreed, "It was like I was cold and missing a whole section of myself cut off from the world."
"Empty," Cindy agreed, "No longer at full capacity."
"I felt that for years," Peter admitted, "Lonely, bitter, and angry. I manifested my emptiness into anger and then I turned it into distrust. And I hurt a lot of people, but Y/N never made me feel any of those things ... even after I hurt her."
Peter leaned against the side of the alley and shrugged, "She made me realize I was whole, and not just a part of myself the way I felt once you left."
"I didn't leave," Cindy grit her teeth, "I was taken."
"Right. You're right. I'm sorry," Peter put his hands up in defense, "You were gone for five years, Cin. You were dead. I won't apologize for moving on, but I will apologize for not looking for you."
Cindy sniffled and nodded, wrapping her arms around herself, "I didn't expect you to come looking. Part of me hoped that you would feel me, right? Like, like I was still out there and you could still sense me. But I couldn't sense you at all, so I knew that you couldn't feel me anymore. I didn't expect you to come after me, and I know I shouldn't have expected you to wait for me either. It's just going to take some adjusting."
"I can understand that," Peter nodded, "I completely understand that."
"I came back and everything was different," Cindy croaked, "Vision is gone. Thor is gone. The garden is gone at the Compound ... Everything is so ..."
"Different," Peter agreed, "There's no other word for it."
"You still love me though," Cindy whispered, "I can feel it."
"Of course I still love you," Peter gushed, stepping forward and placing his hands on Cindy's face once again, cupping her cheeks in his hands as she looked up at him.
It had been a very, very long time since his body had felt like this. He could remember when it started - when he first started to fall in love with Cindy and the attraction caused his whole body to sizzle like pop rocks. He would get that feeling when he was around you now, only it was slightly different. It wasn't subdued, but it felt more natural and it was the calming kind of love that put a smile on his face and warmth to spread all throughout his body. It wasn't startling and fizzling pop rocks, but more of a hum.
But with Cindy, it had always been a prickling, popping desire that had coursed through his body and made his mouth water, muscles shake, and lips itch to be on hers. And as much as he hated to admit it, he'd felt that way since she'd come back.
He wasn't in love with Cindy anymore, that much was certain, but he was attracted to her and he wasn't sure how to handle that.
"I love you too," Cindy whispered. She leaned forward and rested her forehead against his, "I think I always will."
"I'll always love you too," Peter agreed, "Just differently."
"Differently," Cindy spat bitterly, "Seems to be the tone of my life now."
"It doesn't have to be," Peter pulled away and caught a glimpse of you standing at the end of the alley. "Fuck," he whispered, noticing the discomfort on your face and the work you'd brought with you clutched to your chest.
You hadn't even gone out to find the two of them. You'd simply been walking back to work, and there was a text on Peter's phone that would corroborate that from five minutes ago where you'd told him you'd be at Stark Industries.
But then you'd walked past the alley and heard 'I love you' being exchanged and foreheads touching and you couldn't help yourself but stop. It was such a personal moment and yet you couldn't look away.
"Y/N," Peter whispered, "Hi baby. We were just -"
"Yeah yeah no worries," you cleared your throat and waved it off in a jerky way that looked nothing short of robotic.
"I'm sorry," Cindy sniffled, wiping the tears from her eyes, "Meeting you was ... difficult."
"I'm sorry," you whispered, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
"It's not you," Cindy quickly assured you, "I promise."
"O-Okay," you nodded slowly, "Well um, I uh - I have work, so ..."
"Y/N," Peter called after you, jogging to catch up as you turned to look at him, "It wasn't what it looked like -"
"I know," you nodded, "I understand, and it's okay."
"No, it's not okay," he whispered, "Please, I -"
"Cindy just returned from Hell and she's found that the one person who she used to turn to in her time of need is sleeping with someone else. I can understand how difficult that must be for her and I understand that there will be a little bit of time as she adjusts to this new world. It's her world, but it's all new."
"That doesn't excuse my actions. I was only trying to be a good friend," Peter promised.
"You love all your friends, Peter," you told him, reaching out and taking his hand, "It's no secret, no matter how hard you try to hide it. I know you love them all so, so much. And Cindy is no exception."
Your heart was still aching, and the visual was something you would deal with for longer than you cared to admit, but Peter bought a house for the two of you to live in and he gave you a piece of his past - Uncle Ben's ring - that stood for a future he planned to share with you. Cindy just happened to be a part of that future now.
"You should try to convince her about her parents," you whispered, nodding encouragingly to him, "If she's here to stay - as she should be - then reaching out and reconnecting is the best way to go."
"You're amazing and perfect and endlessly sexy," Peter gushed, "I don't deserve you."
Peter's compliments seemed to make you uncomfortable as you pulled your hand from his and chuckled lightly. "That's very unlikely, Peter Parker, but I appreciate your opinion."
"May was really serious about that dinner, so we should probably schedule it soon ..." Peter winced.
"I'll talk to her and set a date and then put it into your schedule," you said, pulling out your phone to check that your calenders were still connected. You and Peter had merged your calenders months ago, and there was no reason to doubt that they weren't still linked, but considering the past few day's events, you weirdly felt the need to check.
"Great," Peter went to kiss you but noticed Cindy's gaze and instead cleared his throat and kissed your cheek, "Thanks, peaches."
"Right," you whispered, "See you later then."
Over the next few weeks, you did your best to get used to Cindy's presence. She was never intrusive nor did she ever make you uncomfortable, but she was just always there. She was with MJ when the two of you met up for tea, and she was with Ned when you went to an old scary movie at the cinema over the weekend. And whenever you were at work she was also there - in her lab, in the café, or sitting in what you came to figure was her signature chair in Peter's office.
Harley made her a new suit because, apparently, she'd been using her own webbing to make herself a suit for the past years. And you hated to admit it, but the suit was amazing. The red silk scarf she'd initially used now was a nano-tech mask that covered her nose and down. It connected to a white chested suit with sleek black arms and legs with webbing designs wrapped around it.
She was graceful, impressive, and likable by all, and though you wanted to hate her so badly, you couldn't. You'd watch her train with Peter and Jessica and even though you wished you could be a part of it so badly, you also knew that you were grateful Peter had others who understood him finally. You could listen to his needs and be there for him as much as possible, but you'd never understand Peter the way Cindy and Jessica could.
A month after Cindy and Jessica arrived, Cindy sat down across from you at the café and sighed, slumping back in her seat, "Hey," she huffed.
"Rough day?" you asked, noticing her sweaty complexion.
"I just ran all of Central Park to see if I could still remember it," she sighed, "Some parts I got lost in, but the rest I got pretty well I think."
"You ... ran all of Central Park?" you muttered, "Like, the whole park?"
"Yeah. I was slower than I normally am, which sucks. But considering P keeps bringing all your baking to his lab every day, I think I'm getting fat."
"Oh!" you sat up a bit straighter, "Is there anything you liked in particular?"
"Do not pull that tablet out if you want to keep living," Cindy pointed at you. You quickly tried to put it away pretending as if you hadn't been reaching for it.
"Are you working? Are you done?" Cindy asked, taking another swig from her water bottle, "Want to go for a walk?"
"You said you just went for a run?"
"I'm anxious," Cindy shrugged, "Come on," she stood and slapped your thigh, "There's a really great gyro place a few blocks over that is still there - I checked this morning. We should go have lunch."
"Oh, I'm not done here for another hour -"
"Come on," Cindy slammed your laptop closed, "Or I'll break into your fancy townhouse and destroy your kitchen."
"I believe that," you mumbled before scrambling to catch up to her.
"Is this Bobby's Gyros we're going to?" you asked while falling into stride with Cindy.
"Yeah. You been?"
"Well, I -"
"Y/N!" Bob called as the two of you walked in, "Hi sweetheart! How're ya doin'?"
"Hi Bobby," you leaned over the counter so the older man could kiss you on the cheek, "It's good to see you too."
"Where's that boy of yours? He always leaves a twenty in the tip jar so I like him better," Bob shook his finger at you.
"He's working, Bobby, but I'll make sure he stops by later this evening on his way home from work," you promised, "How's Mary?"
"She's as gorgeous as ever," Bob smiled, "My girlfriend, Mary," he winked to Cindy.
"You've been married for 56 years, Bob," you reminded him.
"She was my girlfriend first," Bob shrugged, "The usual, hon?"
"Yes please," you nodded, "What do you want, Cindy?"
Cindy looked like she'd eaten something sour, but she swallowed whatever it was and turned to Bob so she could place her order. Within five minutes you and Cindy were sitting outside at one of the tiny tables Bob set out on the sidewalk eating in silence.
"How do you do it?" she asked suddenly, causing you to nearly choke on your water.
"Do what?"
"You know everyone. Everyone knows you. And everyone loves you," Cindy eyed you suspiciously, "Everyone liked me just fine, but no one ever knew my usual. Well, other than Mr. Delmar, I guess. But that was just because Peter and I bugged him for so many years."
You chuckled, "I work in charity, so I'm always under the hospitality of someone else until I can figure out how to help them. I started getting to know the businesses in the area so we could do a big Stark Industries summer picnic festival every summer. Local shops can set up their booths and food trucks and it's a huge long weekend where we raise money for the businesses while also building community. We've been doing it for two years now."
"So you know everyone?"
"Not everyone," you smiled, "But it would be nice if I did ... make my job easier."
"You seem to do it just fine enough."
"I'm sorry," you put your food down, "Are you interrogating me?"
"No. You're right. Sorry," Cindy shook her head, "I'm sorry."
"You have nothing to apologize for."
Cindy rolled her eyes, "You're allowed to hate me, you know."
You sat back in your chair and shrugged, "I've tried."
Cindy actually smiled and sat up a bit as you watched her, "Seriously?"
"Of course," you said, "My boyfriend's hot ex comes back and is around all the time and I'm just supposed to be cool with it? Believe me, I've tried to hate you. I've tried to shit talk you to my friends. I've tried to ... God, I don't even know. I can't even wish bad things on you, honestly at this point."
"Sounds like you're obsessed with me," Cindy flipped her hair over her shoulder.
"Yeah maybe I have a type," you grumbled, "Sticky fingers and emotionally disconnected."
"Oh my God was that a joke?" Cindy asked with a short laugh.
"I don't hate you, Cindy. The amount of relief I feel knowing Peter has you back in his life brings me extreme happiness. I was there for him at his darkest and so I know just how far he's come to be where he is today, but seeing him training with you or hanging out with you and all your friends - that's a reprieve from his dark mind I never thought he'd have."
"He's the way he is because of you, you know," Cindy said, picking at her food.
"I can't tell if you mean that in a good way."
"Of course I do," Cindy rolled her eyes, "I turned into a murderous puppet for a very bad guy for almost five years because I lost Peter, so I can't imagine the shit that little punk got up to in my absence."
"He fucked a lot of people," you whispered, wrinkling your nose as Cindy smirked.
"So I've heard."
You took a sip of your drink while Cindy put down her fork and looked up at you, "Okay," she sighed deeply, "I haven't told anyone this but you seem like the right person to tell."
"I thought you hated me."
"I can't," Cindy grit her teeth, "And believe me, I've also tried."
"Cheers," you mumbled, "So what's going on?"
"A few weeks back, when I first saw you and Peter together, it wasn't the first time I've had to see Peter move on without me."
The name Harry Osborn flashed through your mind for a moment, but you weren't sure just exactly how much Peter had told Cindy about his past relationships (or flings, more accurately) so you kept your mouth shut.
You furrowed your eyebrows and sat up, leaning in a bit as Cindy refused to make eye contact. "I don't understand? I thought you and Peter were dating up until you were abducted?"
"Ezekiel's earth was far enough away from this one that the timeline was different," Cindy started fiddling with her fingers as she spoke, "The earth that I was in was five years ahead of this one. I didn't realize it at first because I was always at Sims Tower, more accurately, in the bunker of the tower."
"So when did you find out?"
"After about a year Ezekiel started to trust me more. I think once you get someone to start killing for you, you're theirs, right? So he knew that I couldn't go far without having to implement myself in his deeds. So he let me start going out. I'd go grocery shopping and run errands. Sometimes he'd even let me hang out at coffee shops and read if I was really good."
"That sounds terrible," you whispered, leaning in a bit more.
"The first time he let me out I immediately looked to find Peter, of course," Cindy admitted, "I just thought that even though he would be a different version of the Peter I knew, he'd still be able to help me. Or maybe I could find that earth's version of me and she would know my struggle."
"Did you find her?"
"She'd died a while ago. In middle school, I think," Cindy muttered, "There was a car accident and she didn't survive."
"I'm so sorry."
Cindy shrugged, "I never knew her, so I didn't feel the need to mourn. But I looked up the accident and turns out that she was on her way home from a concert with her best friend Peter Parker. She'd passed away along with Peter's aunt ... May."
"Oh my God," you mumbled, feeling sick.
"So I looked Peter up. He was living in Manhattan near Hell's Kitchen and he was married," Cindy swallowed her discomfort, "I never approached him because I figured if he was once friends with that earth's Cindy Moon then he'd obviously recognize me. And he didn't even have any powers, so there wasn't really much he could do anyway."
"He ... didn't have powers?" you tried to wrap your mind around your Peter without his Spider-Man capabilities, and you thought back to when you'd known Peter before figuring out his identity. Ever since you'd figured it out though, the powers and Peter's personality and livelihood had gone so hand-in-hand that it was difficult for you to differentiate the two.
"Yeah it was creepy," Cindy shuddered, "But he was married and it was five years in the future and I had to watch as he helped his very pregnant wife up the steps of their apartment building after they'd spent the afternoon having a picnic in the park. It was awful."
"Who was he married to?" you asked, wondering if part of Cindy's discomfort with you might be from the fact that she'd known another version of you - a version of you that was married with a child on the way.
The thought flashed through your mind before you could stop it. Peter was so soft and loving to you, so you could only imagine he'd be even more loving and protective of his child. You'd never envisioned yourself as someone who would enjoy pregnancy, but being a mother was something you'd always wanted for your future. And now seeing your sister Aggie with her tiny little newborn and seeing the joy little Trina brought to Aggie and Whit, you understood the unconditional love of the family unit - something you wanted to share with Peter.
And maybe, if you were being selfish and honest with yourself, you liked the idea of yours and Peter's love spanning other worlds. You allowed yourself to get lost for a moment in the idea of you and Peter finding one another on different earths no matter the circumstances.
But then Cindy answered your question.
"That bitch Gwen Stacy," she snapped, "With her little blond bob and perfectly manicured nails."
You choked, "Gwen Stacy?"
"You know her?"
"I hate that bitch," you growled, "She's a conniving slut."
Cindy's eyebrows went up as she smirked, "I'd love to know that backstory at some point."
"How were they even together?" you hissed, suddenly boiling with rage. You knew this was another Peter you'd never meet on a very different earth you'd never step foot on, but for some reason, in that moment you felt cheated on.
"Peter was working as a photojournalist for the Daily Bugle and Gwen worked as a reporter, so they must have met at work," Cindy shrugged, "It was disgusting to watch so I never went back."
"That juice-loving whore," you whispered.
"Easy there," Cindy laughed, "But you can understand why I might have um ... gone off a bit after seeing you and Peter together that first day? It was like I was reliving that abandonment all over again and I just couldn't handle it emotionally yet."
"I always understood," you told her, "I don't blame you."
"Well, I'm sure you're probably sick of seeing me around. I can only imagine what it must be like to always have me there whenever you come to visit your boyfriend. I'm trying to figure out what my next move is so I won't be in everyone's space. Tony keeps saying he'll set me up with an apartment but it just feels wrong."
"You don't have to worry about that," you told her quickly, "I'm glad we had this talk. Yes, it can be frustrating sometimes when I go up to visit Peter and you're there, but mostly because I usually take naps on that couch and I'm not comfortable sleeping in front of people I don't really know."
"Naps are very serious so I can understand your frustration," Cindy nodded seriously.
"I didn't know you were looking for a place to live. And I also feel bad that I didn't even think for a moment where you were living," you admitted.
"I've been staying at the Compound but it's such a bitch to get into the city every day when I want to be at the labs."
"Aren't there labs at the Compound?"
"Not my lab," Cindy reminded you, "Besides, Nat is always up my ass to train and I'm not ready for those 5am training sessions yet."
"I don't think anyone's ever ready for those."
"You're not half bad," Cindy sighed, "I mean, I'm not entirely sure we're friends, but you're chill. I'm glad Peter has you."
"You remind me a bit of someone," you said, thinking of Felicia.
Cindy was a bit colder than Felicia in a brutally honest way. Cindy was just untrusting completely, where Felicia would just go off things as a hunch. Felicia had warmed up to you, and you had a feeling you and Cindy would never get to that point.
But Cindy was still badass, and you appreciated that.
"We should get going," you groaned, reaching for your bag, "I have a meeting with Étienne for the art gallery and then I need to take a fucking nap."
"So when are you going to tell me about the crazy robot chip in your neck?" Cindy asked while you started to walk back to Stark Industries.
"One conversation at a time, Cindy," you told her and watched as she smiled slightly to herself.
That night as you crawled into bed, it was only seconds later that Peter was crawling in through your window to join you. His patrols had started to grow a bit longer since Cindy's return. You would have felt more uneasy, had it not been for Jessica's presence with them. They were still training her and spending their time teaching her all their tricks, so knowing Peter and Cindy weren't spending hours together alone at night was a bit of a comfort. But tonight, Peter was ready for bed seemingly as soon as you were.
"I found a really gorgeous sofa today," he told you excitedly, "It's emerald green and it's velvet and super fancy looking and I think it'll look great for your front office."
"That's great," you yawned, "I'm not sure it's a big enough room for a sofa though. Maybe we can put it in the sitting room?"
Peter typed the code into his arm and his suit started to fall away, revealing his jeans and shirt underneath. "An even better idea," he agreed, "I liked the white cotton curtains you found. They don't block too much light."
"Oh did they arrive?" you asked while letting your hair down and snuggling over as Webs sat down against your stomach.
"Got in this afternoon," Peter confirmed while tripping over himself to get undressed, "We still need to find the headboard you were interested in."
"We have so much time, Peter," you yawned again, "We won't be moving in until after graduation. We have months to put everything together."
"I want it to be perfect," he whispered, crawling up onto your bed and hovering over you as he kissed you softly. He then flopped down next to you and reached out for Webs, who quickly reached one of his paws out to press into Peter's arm.
The two of you softly petted Webs between you as you both relaxed from the long day. Peter's leg pushed out slowly to curl around yours and you lifted your arm up under your head to prop your head up while also reaching out for his head, scratching at the back of his scalp.
"The night after graduation I want to carry you into our new house and it's all finished," Peter whispered, "Our brand new life."
"It's not going to exactly be new," you reminded him, "Just continued."
"Right," he nodded, kissing the inside of your wrist, "Maybe our grad party with our families can be at our place? All our friends' parents and stuff."
"I'm sure they'd love that," you agreed, "Speaking of friends, I had lunch with Cindy today."
"Bob said you stopped by when I went by there for dinner," Peter scooted closer to you, "I didn't know you went with Cindy."
"She means well, lover," you mumbled tiredly, "And I want what's best for her too. She's just been through more than we'll ever understand."
"She's slowly been telling me more," Peter said, "I don't want to push it though."
"I don't want to disappoint you if we aren't friends," you admitted, "I think she's a great person but ... I just don't see it happening."
"Give it time," Peter begged, "She'll start to warm up to you."
"It's not just about that. I just don't think she's comfortable being my friend and honestly as happy as I am that she's here for you and that she and Jessica are in your life, I don't know if I'm super comfortable around her either."
"I'm in your bed every night," Peter said, "You don't have anything to worry about."
"It's not about that," you scoffed, "Don't make this about you. It's about me and Cindy."
"Seems like it would be about me," Peter mumbled cutely.
"Contrary to popular belief, Spider-Man, the world doesn't revolve around you."
"That's what you're for," Peter smiled, "Something for the world to revolve around."
He reached out to rest his hand on your cheek and you pushed him away, rolling your eyes, "Not the world," you chastised him.
"My world," he whispered, looking at you lovingly, "And I know you and Cindy aren't ever going to be buddies, but I also didn't think you'd ever befriend Felicia but you got that stone-cold bitch to like you. Cindy's a great person and a very personable friend. She'll come around once she knows she's safe. She's just stressed because she's convinced Ezekiel is going to come after her."
"How do we know he isn't going to?" you asked, "He's been able to get to this earth before."
"The circumstances for him have changed," Peter reminded you, "Cindy has just always been paranoid. It was one of the things that made her so reckless."
You could tell by Peter's clipped tone that he didn't want to talk about this topic anymore so you remained silent and reached out for him, taking his hand. You didn't want to admit it, but Peter was a bit correct - even though this feeling of insecurity came from Cindy, the root of the issue was your slight distrust in Peter. You felt sick thinking about it but you couldn't get all the images of Peter and Cindy hugging out of your mind. You'd seen them hugging in his office or standing too close together in their labs. They were connected at the hip when they could be together and though you tried to remind yourself that Peter was in your bed every night, just as he'd reminded you, you couldn't help but wonder who was on his mind every night ... especially if Cindy could read it.
The brisk fall came quickly as October came and went, and you found yourself stealing more and more of Peter's sweaters and crewnecks whenever you could. It was a vicious cycle for Peter to wake up in the morning with another article of clothing stolen, but he was used to it and he cherished it. And the fact that soon, once you graduated, you would both share a closet so you wouldn't have to put in a lot of effort to steal his clothes made him infinitely happy.
What didn't make him particularly happy though, was that you were spending all day with Étienne working on the art gallery. Peter trusted you, but he didn't trust Étienne, and watching as the two of you worked together always made his mind a little fuzzy.
"Yo," Tony knocked on his office door and Peter blinked, rubbing his eyes as he came out of his day dream. He'd been zoning off again thinking of the conversation he'd had with Cindy the night before about Ezekiel's reasoning for coming to find her and Jessica, and Peter couldn't seem to get that issue out of his mind.
"What?" Peter yawned, leaning back in his chair and stretching, "I'm busy."
"Clearly," Tony huffed before stepping into his office, "I'm going to cut to the chase, I have to go to Morgan's bake sale or whatever at school and I don't have time to interview a new chemist to fill Randy's position."
"What happened to Randy?"
Tony rolled his eyes, "I sent that memo out over a month ago. Randy retired. We're looking to hire a new biochemist and I have a short list. But our most promising candidate is here and I can't interview him."
"... And you want me to?" Peter raised an eyebrow, "I'm not totally in-tune with the biochemistry department."
"Now's your chance," Tony shrugged, slapping the file down onto Peter's desk, "And if you like him and think he'd make a good fit, just hire him. I haven't been impressed with any of the other candidates I've interviewed."
"Tony," Peter stood and loosened his tie, "We talked about this."
"About what?"
"About you pushing me into hiring," Peter crossed his arms, "I said I wasn't ready."
"And I say you are," Tony clapped loudly and rubbed his hands together, "Remember to ask him where he sees himself in five years and ask him his favorite color."
"Tony, I'm going to kill you."
"And if he asks about paid vacation ... don't answer," Tony said while walking out briskly, "He'll be here in thirty minutes."
"You'll do great, kid!"
"Fuck you!" Peter yelled back after him as Tony jogged down the hall towards the elevator.
Since Peter had taken on more serious work at Stark Industries, he and Tony had been doing their best to always be cordial and work together harmoniously. There was therapy, yelling, harsh words, and some good heart-to-heart moments that had assisted the two in their relationship today, but Peter knew they still had a long way to go.
Tony was always pushing Peter's boundaries, and Peter took his boundaries very seriously.
For the next thirty minutes, Peter read over the file and tried his best to prepare for his first interview. It was just like Tony to spring something on him and just expect that Peter would succeed. To Tony's credit, Peter always did succeed, but Peter hated it nonetheless.
"Your three o'clock his here, Peter," Karen said smoothly, "Shall I let him in?"
"He's not my three o'clock; he's Tony's," Peter muttered before standing and saying, "Let him in."
The first thing Peter noticed was how tall he was. Slender, tall, but sturdy looking, Peter felt a sense of seriousness settle around the room.
"You must be Dr. Connors," Peter walked out from around the desk and offered his hand. It was only then that Peter noticed ... he didn't have one.
"Call me Curt," he nodded as Peter quickly switched hands and his metal hand met Curt's only one.
"H-Have a seat," Peter cleared his throat and unbuttoned his blazer before sitting down at his desk, "I'll admit this interview was sprung upon me so I've only just had the past half hour to go over your file."
"And I'll admit I wasn't planning on being interviewed by a kid less than twice my age."
Peter looked up to see Curt Connors was smirking at him, and Peter chuckled.
"Less than twice your age? There's hardly a chance you're in your fifties," Peter stated, looking back down at his file, "So, for risk of sounding stupid, tell me about yourself."
"You've read my file. What more could you know?"
Peter shrugged, "Why biochemistry?"
Connors sat back in his chair and cleared his throat, "When I went into the military they had me working on special assignment - bioweaponry."
Peter's blood ran cold and he felt his jaw twitch as his mind immediately went to you and all the pain a bioweapon caused you. It almost took your life, and yet here was someone who worked in bioweaponry by choice.
"I see," Peter said briskly.
The temperature in the room could be felt going down ten degrees, and Connors shifted in his seat, "It wasn't exactly what I signed up for, but when you have a degree that the government thinks can be put to good use, you don't really say no."
"You could if you're not a coward," Peter held Connors's gaze and watched as a determined flash of anger sparked through his eyes.
"Bioweaponry is the farthest departed thing from what we were intended to do on this planet," Connors continued, "It hurts, destroys, kills, and decimates all within its path. In war, it's helpful but also a last resort. However, in the wrong hands, the loss and the potential impact can be far greater."
"We don't deal in bioweapons here," Peter told him, "Our biochemists play no part in that."
"Which is why I came to you," Connors nodded, "I'm tired of playing god and creating formulas that warp reality and existence. I've lost enough of myself to that."
Peter's eyes shamelessly traveled down to where Connors's sleeve hung empty. Connors had more of his arm left than Peter did - Connors's seemed to have been amputated just above the elbow - but Peter could understand his pain.
"I know this is a long shot and I know I've been out of the business for a while," Connors continued, "But something about this place felt right. You don't pretend to be anything you're not, and when I saw you speak a few years ago announcing your title within the company, I figured this was my chance."
"Because we both only have one hand and yet we still strive to lend it," Connors stated matter-of-factly.
"Way to use my handicap against me," Peter nodded, "You don't mess around."
"I didn't mean it like that."
"I know you didn't," Peter said, honestly.
He felt a sense of purpose and a strong will within Curt Connors that he couldn't quite place. In part, it was unsettling how much power was radiating off of him, but Peter found it immensely intriguing. Peter could barely go out of the house without his vibranium arm and he wouldn't be caught dead without it on. It had taken him quite some time to come to terms with people even being able to see it to begin with.
But here was Curt Connors, a man with nothing to lose and a track record to show that he'd already lost a lot, and he was here asking for a job.
"When would you like to start?" Peter asked, placing down the file.
Connors looked surprised for a moment before clearing his throat, "Whenever. As soon as possible."
"You're hired."
"Do you even have the power to do that?"
"Cute," Peter smirked before standing and smoothing down his tie, "Let's go. I'll show you the biochemistry labs. Then I'll drop you at HR and we can get paperwork settled."
Peter felt like power was radiating off of him as he walked Connors through the labs. Having never hired anyone before, Peter didn't understand the feeling of power he held in deciding the life of someone else. Sure, he played with people's lives every day as Spider-Man, but the sheer adrenaline Peter got from realizing he was in charge and that he was the boss caused a coiling fire to curl in his chest.
Having not had control over a lot of things in his life, having control over who worked within his company suddenly meant a lot more to him.
"We have a few open projects that we've been working on, and I know that your predecessor left a few half-finished projects as well," Peter said as he walked through the large biochemistry lab, "You'll have two colleagues working alongside you and a team of assistants, but a lot of your work should be done from your own interests. We have certain projects we need to work on annually and renewals to upgrade as technology evolves, but experimenting and exploring new avenues of your interests is where we flourish."
"You're smarter than I thought," Connors admitted, "I thought you were just some punk who moonlit as a superhero."
"That's the impression a lot have of me," Peter nodded, "However, I take my job very seriously. I don't always enjoy it and Tony can be a dramatic bitch, but when it comes to implementing new tech to assist and aid others, there's no margin for error."
"I can't work as quickly as others," Connors pointed to his arm, "I'm sure you're aware."
"Work at your own pace, but always be working," Peter reminded him, "And if you have questions, ask."
"Me, what?"
"Ask you? What do you know of biochemistry?" Connors asked simply.
Peter smirked feeling the power fizzle through his veins, "More than you'd expect. You'll start on Monday. Lisa in HR will take care of all your paperwork now."
After showing Connors to HR and making his way back up to his lab, Peter decided to head instead to his lab one floor down to check in. Étienne's lab was empty of anyone, but it was filled with work geared towards the art gallery you and Étienne were working on. Peter blew past it, nodding to Harley where he was working across the hallway before stopping short when he noticed Cindy.
It was like a ghost filtering through a dream. No matter how often Cindy spent in her lab or how long she stuck around, sometimes it truly hit Peter that she was actually there. With his lab right across from hers, he'd spent years staring into the red abyss of her empty and silent lab space. If he closed his eyes and concentrated, he could still remember every little detail of how it had stayed untouched.
But now the lights were back on and new projects, statistics, and blueprints were scattered around the space. Where Peter always implemented a clean and organized workspace, Cindy's space was always a mess. Chaos erupted around her wherever she worked, and seeing her once again in the midst of it all caused Peter to smile.
He knocked on the glass and stuck his head in, "Hey," he smiled, "Working on anything fun?"
"Aw, the big boss man came down to see the peasants," Cindy smirked, smiling back at him, "Someone's happy. I could feel the vibrations jittering around you the second you got on this floor."
"I just made my first hire," Peter proudly boasted, "And if you tell Tony I actually enjoyed it, I'll have to kill you."
"That sounds exciting," Cindy muttered, obviously half paying attention.
Peter watched as she worked and the two fell into silence. It might have seemed odd to anyone else to watch as Peter leaned against the doorframe and watched on silently, but this was normal and routine. Peter enjoyed watching Cindy's process just as much as she enjoyed watching his. Working together in the lab had never been a big success for them considering their work ethics were so different that it often led to a mishap or massive proportions, but there was something comforting about watching one another work.
"I was thinking about you last night," Cindy whispered quietly, "You've been so busy I haven't seen you all week."
"Thinking about anything good?"
Peter could feel words dripping from the edge of Cindy's tongue and could see that she had something building inside her she wanted to say, but when she just shook her head and smiled slightly, Peter pouted.
"So um ..." she cleared her throat and leaned back against her workstation, crossing her arms, "There's something I need to talk to you about."
"What's up?" Peter walked over to stand next to her, leaning in the same way she was until their arms were touching. Cindy subconsciously leaned into him and huffed.
"Don't get mad," she whispered, "But I brought something here with me that I'm going to need you to keep safe so it doesn't fall into the wrong hands. If Ezekiel finds a way here to this Earth, he's going to look for it first with me. But if I give it to you then I think it'll be safer."
"You're scaring me," Peter said as Cindy tugged at the long chair around her neck and pulled it out from under her shirt.
The pendant at the end of the necklace looked like a small locket, but when Cindy opened it up, Peter noticed there was a small vial inside before Cindy tipped it out into her hand. It shone blue - a light, sort of irridescent blue - and Peter felt a tugging sensation in his chest as he looked at it.
"Ezekiel made this before we left," Cindy pressed it into Peter's hand, "I destroyed all his notes and files on it as I was leaving, but I worry he'll make more."
"What is it?"
"Spidey serum," Cindy muttered, "And a good one too. I checked it and did some hypothetical tests using the formula. It works, and I think Ezekiel was planning on their using it on himself, or replicating it enough to create an army."
Peter rolled the vial between his fingers before holding it up to the light, "You're telling me that this little thing can give someone the same powers the spider bite gave us?"
"It's cyphened directly from a radioactive spider Ezekiel was working on mixed with some of Jessica's compounds in her DNA. I don't exactly know how he did it, but it works. I've run the tests."
Peter felt a weird sense of dread as he looked it the serum. The idea of multiple brainless soldiers without a conscious other than what Ezekiel wanted them to do with the strength, power, and skills that he and Cindy possessed ... it was a full-on nightmare.
"And what do you want me to do with it?" Peter asked, looking to Cindy, "Why would you keep this from me for so long?"
"At first I was afraid to let it out of my sight," Cindy admitted, "But we've been here long enough now that Jessica is starting to acclimate to her surroundings. She's making friends and she'll start going to school soon ... I guess I thought Ezekiel would find us quicker. But the longer he's not here, the more I'm split between thinking he's biding his time or he just can't find us."
"Hopefully the latter," Peter mumbled.
"But if we are going to be here longterm, then that needs to be locked away somewhere," Cindy pointed to the serum, "And you and Tony run this building so my guess is you know all the secret hiding places."
"There's a place in my lab," Peter nodded, "I keep only the special things in there. No one's going to find it."
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you right away," Cindy sighed, "I thought of destorying it multiple times but for some reason I just couldn't bring myself to do it."
"I understand," Peter nodded.
It was a weird sensation, but Peter could somehow feel in his bones why this serum was important. Important for what, he wasn't entirely sure yet, but it still resonated with him on a very personal level. This serum was a variation of what ran through his veins and had embedded in his DNA. For a moment, a scary thought passed through his mind.
"Do you think this could be reverse-engineered?" he asked softly.
Cindy furrowed her eyebrows. "You mean ... take your powers away?"
"N-Not mine," Peter whispered, "Just like, in general, do you think it could?"
"Well, we'd obviously have to study it and run a few algorithms and tests, but I'm sure it could be done. It would probably be painful - just as painful as our transition post-bite was. It would literally be rewriting DNA, right? But maybe. Why do you ask?"
"Just a theory," Peter lied, smiling tightly. "I'll go secure this for you."
"Thanks P," Cindy nodded, "I knew I could count on you."
Peter quickly retreated from the lab and headed over to his own, finding the small compartment hidden in the wall that held all his valuables he wanted no one to ever find. Sliding the serum into the compartment and watching as the panel once again solidified back into the wall, Peter felt the guilt creeping up his spine.
Spider-Man was at the core of his identity and after being Spider-Man for years and years it was hard to think of his life without his powers. But he'd never had any reason not to think about what life could be without Spider-Man. He'd always had one duty - to protect and keep safe the people of his city. But now, having met you and committed himself to you, his duties had changed, along with his priorities.
With Cindy's return and Jessica now in their life, that was two more spidey-related heroes in the world that Peter had never had the chance to even dream of. And Peter had quite the future ahead of him already without his role as Spider-Man by running Tony's company. For a moment, Peter allowed himself to think of what his life could be like as a normal man. His job wouldn't consist of late night patrols or throwing himself into danger. He'd come home to you ever night, marry you, maybe even ... start a family.
Peter had blocked away that part of him for so long and not even allowed himself to think about having children because he knew his spidey powers would transfer to them, so he'd refused to let himself think about it. But he'd never had anyone he'd wanted to start a family with.
And now he had you.
You could tell that something was a bit off with Peter that night at trivia, but you didn't press him on it. He spent most of the time working on his tablet, looking up and helping to answer questions whenever he could. He'd been so busy with work lately that you felt bad for him, but you knew that he was doing something he loved (even though he'd never admit it).
The dynamic hadn't changed much with Cindy's arrival. Trivia night was still just a meeting of all your friends set aside to relax and hang out. It was a sacred time, which was probably why halfway through the night MJ finally snatched the tablet away from Peter and glared at him while putting it in her bag.
"No more working," she declared, "You can be angry with me all you want, but this isn't working time."
"You're so annoying," Peter grumbled before slouching in his chair and accepting it.
"Just relax," you told him, "We've all been so busy."
Peter pouted like a child before pulling you into his arms, wrapping you up tightly as you giggled. You felt more carefree in this moment than you had in a long time, but you knew part of that was because the alcohol in your system was keeping you from thinking about Cindy. You'd felt like your relationship with Peter had been strained since she got here, and even though you hated to admit it, you'd felt like you couldn't be yourself with him the way you'd want to be whenever she was around ... which was all the time.
Even though you and Cindy were on relatively good terms (as good as they could be) you still felt a little bit removed from yourself whenever she was around. You couldn't help comparing yourself to her, or wondering what she was thinking of you and Peter, or wondering if she had meant what she said about accepting that you and Peter were together.
The more you thought about it, the more it plagued your mind. And you the worst part was you knew you were doing it to yourself - Cindy had done nothing to make you feel this way. But you alone couldn't stop thinking about it.
Peter pushed your hair to the side and kissed along the dip in your neck and down your shoulder. "What's your schedule look like tomorrow?" he asked softly in your ear.
"Tomorrow," you hummed, "Tomorrow is Saturday."
"It sure is."
"I work tomorrow," you sighed, "I have a few art gallery meetings."
"With him?" Peter glared at Étienne and you rolled your eyes, nudging him with your shoulder.
"Just a few morning meetings and then I'm done for the day," you continued, "What's your schedule look like tomorrow?"
"Well tomorrow is Saturday," Peter confirmed again, "So I have meetings until three."
"Sounds boring," you kissed his cheek.
"It is, but I have you to look forward to afterwards," he kissed you softly, "What do you say we paint the guest bedroom in our house?"
You smiled, "I like the sound of that."
Peter hummed against your neck, sending vibrations that caused you to shiver down your spine. You gripped his shirt tightly as he nibbled on your neck a bit and pushed your body closer to his.
"I like the sound of that too," you whispered, closing your eyes and allowing Peter's scent to envelope your entire being.
And true to his word, Peter looked forward to being with you all day the following day. The meetings dragged on, and he figured you were extremely busy considering you didn't text him back after one of his meetings got out around 1:30. He only had a few more before his day ended, and the thought of getting to do something so homely and domestic as painting a guest bedroom with you was getting him through it.
That is, until halfway through his next meeting, his phone kept ringing.
First it was his office phone, which he simply turned off. Usually he'd pause the meeting to answer, but this meeting was something he'd been focused on for too long to let a single moment pass.
"It could be beneficial," Marcus, one of the chemists spoke up, "If we don't start working to understand black matter, then someone else is going to."
"We don't work in black matter," Peter stated, "I don't know how many more times I have to make myself clear. It's dangerous, there are no positive purposes to working with it, and it can cause severe damage to those who mishandle it."
"If OSCORP starts working with it -"
"I don't care about OSCORP," Peter spat, "I don't care about Alchemax, or the Baxter Building, or any other scientific organization close to our intellect that starts to handle black matter. We're not doing it."
"But we have the best minds," Marcus stated, "If anyone is going to crack black matter equations or learn how to control it, it'll be us."
"That's bold of you to say, Marcus," Peter growled, "And why would we want to control a dangerous and volatile substance? For what purpose? We don't work in weapons, or trying to control the uncontrollable."
"Didn't you work on black matter in the past?" another chemist spoke up, "Why is it off limits now?"
"This decision is final and it's backed by Tony," Peter gestured to Tony sitting boredly at the other end of the table, "So if you'd like to go over my head -" Peter started to threaten, but his phone started going off again. It had been buzzing on the table for what felt like ages, and noticing the same number had called now seven times, Peter felt his aggravation spike.
"I'm going to get this call and then once I'm done you're all going to stop wasting my time and we're going to get back to work," Peter said, finally answering the call.
"Who is this?" he barked into his phone, "And what do you want?"
"Peter," Étienne breathed, "Finally!"
“How did you get my number?” Peter felt his anger rising his his throat at just the sound of Étienne’s breathing.
“Peter, it’s Y/N.”
Peter stood so quickly that everything on the table rattled. Everyone visibly leaned back in their chairs as Peter tried to contain himself.
“What about her? Where is she? Is she okay?” he asked, more like demanded, as he heard Étienne sniffle.
“I don’t - I don’t know. We were planning for the art gallery and Linda called her into the Night Clinic and she’s been here now for an hour and -”
“An hour?” Peter screamed, slamming his fist down onto the table and visibly cracking it as a few people jolted. Tony stood up on the other end of the table and held his hands out as if trying to coax Peter back down.
You’d been at the Night Clinic for an unknown reason for an hour, and Peter hadn’t been notified until now.
“Get here,” Étienne said, “Quickly. Linda won’t turn you away.”
Peter hung up without another word and said, “I have to go,” before he was striding out of the conference room without collecting any of his things. His lungs felt like they were filling up with water and he was suffocating as he strode out into the hallway, loosening his tie as he went.
“Peter!” Tony called after him, jogging to keep up, “Whoa, Peter, slow down!”
“Y/N’s at the Night Clinic and she’s apparently been there for an hour,” Peter breathed in deeply, “I have to go see her. If it’s her antidote again I don’t know what ... I don’t know how -”
“Okay okay,” Tony grasped Peter’s arm and squeezed tightly to get his full attention, “Just breathe, okay?”
“I have to go,” Peter clenched his jaw before turning away from Tony and activating his suit. The glass window panel slid open behind his desk and without a second though Peter jumped out of it and swung through the air. It didn't take him long before he was landing at the back entrance of FEAST and pressing his hand to the sensor for the Night Clinic. The panel in the wall opened and he ran down the stairs, suit retracting back into his arm as he ran.
He nearly skidded into the wall as he turned the sharp corner and he saw Étienne pacing a few feet away, nibbling on his bottom lip.
"Where is she?" Peter demanded, "What room?"
"This one. This one!" Étienne pulled Peter towards one of the exam rooms and without knocking Peter broke the doorknob and pushed his way into the room.
You jumped slightly as Peter strode into the room. His eyes were wild and he looked frenzied and scared. You could tell he was visibly shaking as he looked over you quickly as if checking for any signs of distress before he turned to Linda.
"You didn't call me," he stated. You assumed it was supposed to be in his usual demanding tone, but instead his voice sounded distraught and begging.
"Peter, I -" you started.
"Are you okay?" he asked, walking over and cupping his hand to your face, looking over you, "Are you feeling okay? What happened?" he asked, moving his hands all over your body as if inspecting for injuries.
"I'm fine, Peter. I'm fine," you whispered, reaching his shaking hands and grasping them in yours.
"Why is she here?" Peter turned to Linda, "What's going on?"
He turned back to you and grasped the back of your head, kissing your forehead and holding you there for a moment before you lightly pushed him away.
"S-Sorry," he cleared his throat and turned back to you, "I'm just ..." Peter bent his head slightly and whispered, "... scared."
"It's nothing bad," Linda said softly, "But I figured maybe I would explain to Y/N and then she would later explain to you on her own time."
Tears started to build in your eyes and Peter felt like he was going to throw up. If it wasn't bad, why would you be crying? He grasped your hand in his and brought your knuckles to his lips, kissing them softly.
"You can explain," you told Linda quietly, "I don't exactly understand ... yet."
Linda nodded before walking over to start removing the IV from your arm. Peter only now started to take stock of the situation. Linda had been taking your blood, and as he turned to the monitors behind him, he started to try and understand the medical jargon written on them.
"I've been suspecting something was slightly off about Y/N's blood for a while. There was an anomaly I couldn't quite place and I didn't question it further or push it because if it wasn't harming her, then my guess was it was just a side effect from the bio weapon."
"But?" Peter whispered, holding your hand tightly as Linda took the other to extend your arm and bandage where the IV had been.
"A few months ago when we had all the ambassadors here, you remember they ... got into a fight? I treated all of them and I had all these samples. I was curious about the different DNA compositions and so I tested some of the blood from the Asgardians and the Skrulls, just to see."
"And she found a match," you whispered, eerily quiet.
"I don't understand," Peter looked to you.
"Look here," Linda pulled up an equation that Peter had no idea the meaning behind it, but then when Linda pulled up your own bloodwork, he suddenly understood.
"Asgardian," Peter mumbled, "You're ...?"
He turned back to see that you looked pale and tired. You were looking past him, not at him, as Peter squeezed your hand a bit tighter.
You were Asgardian.
"Not completely Asgardian," Linda stated softly, "Half."
"Half," Peter nodded, "Your mom isn't...?"
"My dad," you muttered, pulling your hand from Peter's and looking down as you clasped your hands together, "It makes sense, thinking on it now. There were a lot of signs leading to it, but since I never thought to make the connection I never put it all together."
Your brain felt like it was melting through your body and your skin was on fire. All those times your dad had mentioned something about his "homeland" or about his culture growing up, you hadn't given it much thought. And whenever your mom had said something about your dad's family being "worlds away" you'd simply figured another continent. But there were never any photos, or any names for you to add to your family tree assignment in elementary school. You never heard where your family was from, just "not here."
Little things that you'd noticed about your father growing up that you'd always wondered in the back of your mind but never let yourself truly dwell on started to surface. Like the way he never asked anyone for help when carrying groceries, or how he was ridiculously tall and muscular compared to all the other dads. He was a cop and then a detective ... that's how all cops were, right?
Or the fact that he'd trained you and your sister from an early age self-defense and some combat moves to "keep you both safe" just in case you ever needed them. Your sister hadn't had much interest in them, but you'd spent hours as a kid "sparring" with your dad. And there had always been a slight accent, but you'd never thought too much of it because it was normal to you having grown up with him. It had always sounded vaguely European, so you hadn't pushed it.
He'd seemed invincible, and yet he'd died so easily once he'd fallen ill.
"If he was Asgardian, how did he die?" you asked quietly, "Aren't Asgardians, like, immortal?"
"There's no saying how old your father was," Linda said quietly and carefully, "But my guess is he caught something that he couldn't quite shake. Asgardians have been sick. I've seen them fall ill reading about New Asgard. There are Earth-related illnesses that they aren't prone to so they don't have the same antibodies. Or ..."
"Or he was killed," you mumbled, looking away from everyone so you wouldn't start crying. You blinked furiously, willing yourself not to cry, but the feeling of Peter's hand gently resting on your lower back nearly broke you.
"So my sister too?" you asked, "She's Asgardian as well?"
"She has the same DNA," Linda agreed, "But my guess is the Asgardian genes and powers aren't as dominant in everyone, so where you might possess some special abilities, your sister might not or vice versa."
Peter's head was spinning as he thought back to all the moments that started to click. There were the moments you'd snap and suddenly it was like you were alert and overly aware of your surroundings if you thought you or anyone you knew might be in danger. Or when you would squeeze just a little too tightly, or bite and break his skin. Not to mention your fight or flight being significantly leaning towards fight whenever you were presented with a challenge. Peter knew that even if you weren't in any way Asgardian, you'd still have that fierce heart in you. But the fact that you had Asgardian blood running through your veins would explain why you were so eager to assist others by jumping into battle.
"Oh my God," you mumbled, "My mom must have known. She must have known where he was from ... right?"
"They were married," Peter said softly, rubbing your back up and down slowly, "I can only imagine two people who loved each other that much wouldn't have kept such a secret like that."
"This also explains why you were able to hold off the bio weapon for longer than a normal human when you were first attacked," Linda informed you, "Your body is just a bit tougher than the rest."
"Well we already knew that," Peter smiled slightly, "Asgardian or not, you've always been a warrior."
You sniffled and tried to smile and nod, but your body just wasn't letting you. Normally, Peter would ask for permission or make sure you were comfortable, but he didn't ask as he reached out and pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. He grasped you so firmly in his arms that you allowed your body to go completely limp against his, giving into your exhaustion, and Peter sighed while kissing your temple.
"You're okay," he whispered, "Everything's okay."
"Who was he?" you asked, mostly to yourself, but it came out out loud.
"He was your dad," Peter said, "He was always your dad."
"But who was he before he was my dad?" you asked, "Will I ever know?"
Peter nibbled on his lip for a moment before he reached behind him for his phone in his back pocket, "I'll reach out to Loki," he stated, "I'll let him know and we can see if there was anyone Loki or Valkyrie would have been aware of leaving Asgard before the time you were born. We can show them photos of your dad and see if they recognize him."
Your hand shot out and you grasped his wrist, eyes wide when he looked up at you. "Don't," you whispered, "This isn't your issue to take care of. This is a family matter. It doesn't concern you."
Peter's eyes softened as he grasped your hand in his wrist and pulled it away, shifting so that your fingers were intertwined with his, "You're my family, peaches. Everything about you concerns me. You're my priority," he whispered, "I'd do anything for you, Y/N. Okay? Let me do this for you. Let's find you the answers you need."
"What if I don't want them?" you asked hurriedly. "What if he was some sort of criminal who was exiled? Or an assassin or a traitor?"
Linda placed her hand comfortingly on your shoulder, "You know in your heart who your father was. He was a kind man who raised a brilliant and loving daughter. No one who raised someone to be as amazing and kind as you could be anything other than a wonderful man."
"I know you, baby," Peter whispered, "And I know that if you keep yourself from finding out the information you're hoping to find, you'll go insane."
You knew Peter was right. It was comforting to know that Peter knew what you wanted without having to ask. You nodded with tears in your eyes. Peter smiled encouragingly before kissing you softly and then stepping out into the hall.
He could hear Linda explaining more to you as he closed the now broken door behind him. Étienne was still sitting on one of the benches in the hall, hands clasped tightly and foot bobbing up and down. When he saw Peter, he stood and cleared his throat.
"Is she okay?"
"She's fine," Peter nodded, too tired and coming down from his initial panic to keep up his angry act with Étienne - someone who obviously loved and cared for you very much. "I'll let her tell you though on her own time."
"But nothing's wrong?"
"She's perfectly healthy," Peter nodded, "But I'd give her space. You don't have to stay. She'll call when she wants to speak to everyone."
"Okay," Étienne nodded, "Does she need anything? Do ... you need anything?"
"Uh ... no," Peter mumbled, "But ... thanks."
"Sure," Étienne grabbed his jacket, "Let me know though, if anything comes up."
Peter nodded instead of spitting the usual 'don't hold your breath' remark he'd normally spew. His day had taken quite the turn, and he was too tired to get into it with Étienne who had been the one to alert him to your condition in the first place. Étienne wasn't petty, so calling your boyfriend to come and make sure you were okay was something a good person would do, and Peter knew that Étienne was a good person. But sometimes he still got on Peter's nerves.
"Peter?" you stuck your head out of the doorway as Étienne was making his way out, "I don't want you to call Loki just yet."
"Okay," Peter immediately put his phone away, "What do you want?"
"Firstly, I'd like for you to stop treating me like a child," you said, crossing your arms, "I can handle myself."
"I'm aware."
"Okay well it didn't seem like you did," you rolled your eyes, "You ran in here like I'd gotten detention at primary school or something."
"I was concerned for you," Peter smirked, "But I see from your sass that you are perfectly fine."
You shrugged and crossed your arms, leaning against the wall as you looked around you, "I don't feel like an Asgardian," you mumbled, "I feel like ... me."
"Feeling like you is the best way to feel," Peter stood across from you and gave you your space, "Just because you've found out something new about yourself doesn't mean you're any different from the person you were before you knew this information. Now you just get to better understand yourself."
"God what is everyone going to say," you groaned, covering your face.
"It doesn't matter what the say," Peter reminded you, pushing off the wall and grasping your wrists lightly to remove them from your face, "Whatever they have to say, they're just words. Words can't hurt you, nor do they control you."
"Says the guy who lets everyone's words get to him," you poked Peter in the chest, smiling slightly.
Peter chuckled and shrugged, "Everyone loves you and they're going to love you no matter who you are or whose DNA runs through your veins, got it?" Peter kissed your forehead, "If anything, they'll probably love you more because this just proves how badass you are."
You scoffed, "Speaking of words, you somehow always know what to say."
You melted into Peter's arms and the two of you stood there in the middle of the hallway holding one another as you allowed yourself to relax. Weirdly enough, when Linda had first told you about her findings, it hadn't exactly surprised you. Maybe deep in your soul you'd known all along? You'd never wanted to admit that you were special because it never felt like you had the right to be. But Peter had always made you feel special since the moment he met you, and so part of you had always thought that yes, you were different, and that yes, you were special.
You'd just never expected it be this special.
"When you're ready to call Loki, we can call him together. Or, better yet, I can take you to New Asgard and we can find all the answers we need there."
"But you'll stay with me?" you asked hesitantly, "I'm not ready to take all this on alone."
"You're not going to have to," Peter told you firmly, "I promise. I'll be by your side the whole time."
"Thank you," you breathed, "I love you."
"Ah," Peter smiled, "Speaking of words, my three favorite to hear you say."
You laughed before he kissed you, whispering, "I love you too."
Once you were ready, Peter took you back to Stark Industries where you sat in his office the rest of the day as Peter caught up on the work he'd missed. You felt like your chest was bursting seeing how Peter understood you. Even though you'd had plans to go and paint the guest bedroom of your new place, Peter knew that with this new information of Asgardian blood in your veins, you'd want to work - you'd want a distraction.
He didn't even ask you, or see if it was what you wanted. He knew you well enough to know that you'd need to tire out your brain through work before you could fully compute this new information. As you sat on the sofa and worked, your eyes would always meet Peter's whenever you looked up. His eyes would land on yours and he's smile slightly while remaining on the phone, or before he looked back down at his work, you it always left you comforted.
The two of you ate with Harley, Jessica, and Cindy in Harley's lab for dinner. Peter didn't bring up your newly discovered ancestry once, making you realize that he truly was leaving this new information for you to tell. At one point Cindy nudged her foot against yours, poking you then with her chopsticks to shake you from your daydream.
"What's wrong?" she asked flatly.
You pushed your orange chicken around the container and shrugged, "Just a long day," you mumbled.
You caught the eye of Tony as he was walking by out of his office and when he noticed you sitting in there he stopped, gave you a subtle thumbs-up as if asking "you good?"
You quickly nodded and gave him a just as subtle thumbs-up back, to which he nodded and kept walking. Obviously it wasn't subtle enough, because Cindy put down her food and crossed her arms.
"Liar," she stated.
"It's not a big deal," you muttered.
She eyed you suspiciously for a moment as you held her gaze, waiting for her to snap. But she didn't, and instead she turned to Jessica and asked, "So, are you ready for patrol tonight?"
"I've been dying to go out!" Jessica wailed dramatically, tossing herself backwards onto Harley's sofa.
"You've been so patient. I'm proud of you," Harley chuckled, "But we had to make sure your suit was just right."
Jessica sat bolt upright with wide eyes and an even wider smile, "You finished it?" she nearly screamed, causing all of you to laugh.
"Feast your eyes, spiderling," Harley said, turning in his chair and hitting a few buttons on his keyboard. The wall panel behind one of his lab tabels opened to reveal a shiny suit in the same material as Peter's old suits. It was all red with the bodice and boots a shimmering yellow outlined in black. Instead of a full mask, there was only a prepared mask for the eyes in the same white style as Peter's lined in yellow and red.
"Oh my gosh," Jessica whispered in awe, "I love it!"
"It's the first of many," Peter reminded her, "But it should do for now."
"Now you can officially start patrolling with us," Cindy smiled brightly.
"But I don't have a name!" Jessica wailed, "What should I go by? Spider-Girl sounds so ... childish. A-And I don't have anything fun to be named after like Cindy's silk scarf. I ... I don't -"
"How about you start going by Spider-Woman?" Peter asked, "Sounds like a promising, young super-heroine, right?"
Jessica was almost in tears as she jumped up and, to everyone's surprised, tackled Peter in a hug first. His eyes widened and he didn't hug back right away, before his eyes met yours in alarm and surprise. Slowly he hugged her back as she continued to squeeze him excitedly and yell, "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"
The moment was touching enough that you could have started crying. Peter held Jessica tightly as she giggled and continued to squeeze him excitedly. She pulled away and wiped her tears before saying, "I won't let you down."
"I know," Peter nodded, "I know you won't."
"I'm going to go get dressed!" Jessica screeched, grabbing the suit from where Harley had his hung up and bolting out the door."
"Well that was adorable," Harley smirked, "Super spidey dad over here."
He jerked his thumb in Peter's direction and Peter rolled his eyes, "She's not going to be a girl forever. At some point she's going to grow up, and going by Spider-Girl her whole life I'm sure would be scaring."
"You know we're going to really have to look after her?" Cindy fretted, trying to keep it together, "She's never practiced out in the open before."
"She's going to be fine, Cin," Peter waved it off, "She's strong and she's ready."
"IT FITS!" you could all hear Jessica screeching from the bathroom, and you couldn't help but laugh.
"I'm going to head home," you stood, setting aside your barely eaten dinner, "I'm exhausted."
"I can take you," Peter stood, setting aside his dinner.
"No no," you placed your hand on his chest and smiled at him lovingly, "I don't want you to miss a single moment of this."
You nudged your head in Jessica's direction where she'd slid out into the hallway again, now completely dressed. "IT HAS WINGS!" she screamed, nearly sobbing as she lifted her arms to show the built in spiderweb styled wings Harley had installed.
Peter smirked and affectionately watched as Jessica spun around to view her image in the glass. A weird pride was overtaking him that he couldn't quite place. As afraid as he was to let loose such a young girl as Jessica onto patrol, he also knew she was strong enough to handle it. He'd been watching her train for almost two months now, and he felt a sense of satisfaction and pride seeing her come into her powers with such grace and poise.
"I'll see you tomorrow," you reached up on your tip toes to kiss Peter on the cheek.
"I'm making breakfast tomorrow," Peter reminded you, "For Ned's birthday."
"Oh my God I completely forgot," Cindy gasped, "I don't have a gift for him yet!"
"We can go shopping after patrol," Peter said, "You'll be there?"
"Like I'd miss Neddy's birthday," Cindy rolled her eyes.
Peter nodded and looked back down at you, "Why don't you stay the night at mine tonight? I can meet you there once patrol is over."
As tempting as that was, you felt the strongest urge to be home in your own bed. The first people you wanted to tell about your newfound identity were your best friends, and you knew that if you could get through telling them, you could tell anyone.
"I think I should be home tonight," you whispered, "But thank you, lover."
"I'll see you in the morning then," Peter whispered before kissing you. It was one of the slow, drawn out kisses that always made your toes curl. It was almost too comfortable of a kiss, like slipping into a particularly warm blanket, or the feeling of a nice hot shower.
"See you in the morning," you agreed once you broke apart, "Thank you for today."
"Of course," Peter squeezed your hand once more before you made your way out. It had been a while since you'd taken the train and as you made your way to your subway stop, you felt young, vulnerable, and displaced. Nothing about you had changed other than information relating to your family's past, and yet everything felt different.
You were so in your mind that you barely paid attention as you walked up the steps to your apartment. Thandie was over at Jason's for the night, and Lazlo said he was working a full night shift, so even though you'd wanted to talk with them, you'd have to wait.
The hallway was dark because the light had gone out a week ago and your landlord still hadn't fixed it. And maybe if you weren't so in your head and preoccupied mentally you would have been more aware, but instead you had to hear him first as he stepped out of the dark.
Just like the psychopath he was.
"Hi princess."
Immediately you dropped your keys and gasped so loudly and sharply that your lungs felt like they were being cut. You stumbled backwards and nearly tripped over your own feet had he not reached out and caught you.
Pale, pale blue eyes, silvery blonde hair, and even paler skin - Harry Osborn had hardly changed since the last time you saw him.
"I've been waiting for you," he said smoothly, letting you go as you stepped back, having gained your footing. He ran his hands through his long, silky hair and smiled, winking at you. "Long time, no see. Huh princess?"
"Don't call me that," you whispered.
Your brain stopped functioning, and every thought to call Peter, or anyone, shut down. Here Harry was completely unannounced on today of all days staring at you. Your waist was still burning from where his hands had touched you, and you felt like you could cry.
Some Asgardian warrior you were, reduced to tears and shaking at the sight of your shitty ex-boyfriend.
"I missed you," Harry stepped forward, causing you to take another step back, "I'm back in the city and figured I would pop in and say hi. We should catch up."
"What are you doing here?"
"I just said, I missed you," Harry rolled his eyes, "Aren't you listening? Let's get a drink."
There was a weird swishing noise and then someone landed in front of you. You closed your eyes as you hear a sharp smack, hiss, and Harry cursing under his breath.
"Fat chance, Skeletor. My girl isn't going anywhere with you."
Your eyes opened wide as you looked up to see Felicia standing in front of you with her legs wide, hand still raised, and a devilish look in her eyes. Harry's cheek was bleeding where she'd clawed at him, and she put her arm out, blocking you from him.
"I suggest you leave," Felicia purred, "And if you don't, I'll go for the throat next time. And not in the fun way I know you like."
Harry wiped at the blood on his cheek and scoffed, "Not as much fun as you used to be, huh Fe?"
"You'd be surprised," Felicia purred, "Now leave before I beat your ass."
Harry tossed his jacket over his shoulder and shrugged, "Till next time, princess," he winked and headed down the stairs.
"Don't count on it!" Felicia called after him before turning to you.
She was dressed in a pair of tight leather leggings, a black bralette, and the hottest most trim leather jacket you'd ever seen. Her long, lush silvery hair was somehow perfectly placed even after ambushing Harry, and she checked her nails before sighing dramatically.
She bent down and picked up your keys, opening your door. You watched as she walked in as if she'd never been away, surveying the place. "Oh," she looked down as Webs hissed at her, "I see you still have this furry baby."
"Felicia," you breathed, stepping into your apartment and closing the door, making sure to lock it. "You're here!"
"In the flesh. Bullet holes and all," she nodded, trying to look bored, "Where's Lazlo keeping his tequila these days?"
"I missed you so much!" you gushed, running up to her and wrapping your arms around her.
Felicia stiffened and mumbled, "Aw ... gross," before you felt her wrap her arms around you and hug you back.
* * *
“But there’s three words that just mean so much to me. Especially if they’re true. If you mean ‘em let me hear you say (I love you). Right (I love you). Oh yes, yes. (I love you) Mm yes I do (You know I do) Just can’t deny it (I swear I do) No doubt about i baby. Way deep in my soul.” - Solomon Burke
* * *
author's note: my editing for this chapter was super lazy because i got tired of it halfway through, so i apologize for any typos or grammatical errors. but here it is ! ch. 3 "in the flesh"
also i know the whole harry thing felt rushed but i wanted it to because i wanted it to feel super disjointed and kind of like ‘wait what just happened’ because that will lead up to the next chapter lol so don’t worry, yes it’s bad writing, but it’s bad writing intentionally *i tell myself* 
thanks for hanging in and waiting for the next chapter ! as always, y'all are the gems of my life. hope you enjoyed !
feedback !! please !
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andilovetowrite · 2 days ago
Punch to the Heart (Part 1)
Peter Parker x Reader
Summary: After repeatedly blowing you off on plans, events and trips, you have finally had enough. But Peter soon regrets it as he sees the harsh reality of almost losing his best friend.
Based on a request you can find here!
Warnings- Crying and a bit of flinching. This is probably my most angsty fic yet, with sprinkles of fluff here and there :)
Here is my Masterlist in case you wanna find more of my work :)
Part 2
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“No, I can’t make it.”
“Sorry, I gotta hang out with MJ.”
“Oh, MJ wants to go out for the evening.”
“Of course I can’t come for movie night, MJ and I are going on a date.”
“Hey Pete, I got the snacks here, come on in”, you said, excited to be spending time with your best friend for the first time in weeks.
“Uh, so I can’t stay for movie night. I gotta pick up MJ and we are heading to her house for the night.”
As he said that, you could feel your heart sinking, stomach curling. Peter never used to bail on your plans, let alone not come to movie nights. Before he started dating MJ and fought Mysterio, you two were inseparable. Always joined at the hip. Whether it was Spiderman duties or simple day to day things, you two would always do it together. Through thick and thin.
That was your motto. You and Peter made it when you were young. But perhaps, you could get through thick and thin, but not through MJ…
“What do you mean? We have been planning this for more than a month. Or well, I have”, you said bitterly, rolling your eyes.
“Well, can’t we just reschedule or something. MJ wants me there tonight.”
You scoffed, looking down. “Peter, I’m your best friend and we haven’t hung out in a month. Can’t you just postpone your plans with MJ?”
He sighed, looking annoyed. “Okay, I can’t just bail on MJ!”
“But you have no problem turning me down every time….”
Peter chuckled humourlessly, running his hand through his hair. “But she is my GIRLFRIEND Y/N!”
“So that’s just an excuse now?” you asked, taking a step back when he yelled.
“Look, it’s not my fault that I want to spend time with my girlfriend. So stop always trying to get attention, and for gods sakes, stop being so fucking clingy!” Peter shouted, throwing his arm back. You stood still, stunned. Tears started welling up in your eyes as you looked down. You wanted to say something, a backhand comment, something to redeem your dignity, but all you let out was a choked sob. Suddenly, Peter looked up, recognition on his face as he reached out to you. But just as he was going to touch you, you flinched, stepping further away from him.
Hurt burst through his face when he saw what you were doing. “Y/N, I didn’t mean-”
“Just go, Peter. You already know how to…” you whispered, arms wrapping around your frame. You felt a fresh batch of tears forming, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing it. So you turned around, grabbed the door handle, and turned to see him, heartbreaking in two as you saw the flowers he had held behind his back for MJ.
“I’ll stop being a clingy best friend. Hell, I’ll just stop being a best friend.” And with that, you walked in, shutting the door behind you before crumbling to the ground. The smell of fresh sandwiches was in the air, the kind from Delmar. You knew Peter liked them, so you had gone and bought some for your movie night. But now, the sight of them made you curl up as you cried softly into your arms.
A part of you hoped Peter would come back, knock on the window and say that he had dumped MJ and was ready to spend time with you. Alas, life doesn’t always go the way you hoped it would, since, within minutes, you heard the familiar WHAP of his web. That was the first night in years that you cried yourself to sleep….
“Ugh”, you mumbled as your eyes tried to adjust to the bright yellow light streaming in through the window. “Mom, close it!”
“Nope, you have to get up! This pity party of yours has been going on for too long. You’ve stayed in bed the entire weekend. You have to go to school today!” Your mom stood up, yanking your cover out of your bed. She sighed, looking at your bedridden head and dark circles. “How late did you stay up till?”
You sighed, leaving the warm embrace of your bed. “Just till one”
Your mom clasped your shoulder, pulling you up gently. “Okay I don’t know what happened, but I have a plate of bacon and egg on the table. Go have a shower and then get some breakfast.” She ruffled your hair. “A full stomach makes a happy person” She winked at you before walking out of your room.
You pulled yourself out of bed and into the bathroom, shedding your clothes. Stepping under the war water, you let your worries flow away with the mascara marks that were stuck on your face. Running your fingers through your tangled hair, you promised yourself Peter wouldn’t see you break down today. Drying off, you walked out of the room, dressed in some of your comfortable clothes. Quickly eating your breakfast, you left for school, wanting to get there before everyone else arrived. You ran up the stairs, going straight to the library. You didn’t have a busy day, actually, you had only 2 classes today but quite a bit of work to do… Since you had something else to do on the weekend.
Tossing your books down, you grabbed a chair, getting your notebook out to start writing. Time passed as you did your work, your hand aching but you didn’t care. For some reason, you couldn’t immerse yourself in you studies.
As if on cue, your “reason” walked through the door, heading straight for your table. You acted as if you couldn’t see him, staring down at your scribbles. Hearing his feet get closer, you tense up, breathing heavily.
“Your heartbeat is getting faster, so it’s kinda useless trying to avoid me…”, Peter said, towering over you. Furrowing your eyebrows, you glared up at him, not saying a word, worried about what might come out of your mouth. Peter sighed, sitting down. You looked at him warily. He didn’t say anything else, just continued to stay quiet and stare at his lap.
Okay, you thought, starting to pack up your things, If he doesn’t want to talk, then neither should I.
You stood up, an as if Peter saw you for the first time, he reached out grabbing your wrist, making you flinch back. “Sorry”, he muttered, retracting his arm. “Sorry”, he said again, looking you in the eye. “I’m sorry. I know I haven’t been spending time with you, and blowing you off everytime. I just- uh, MJ is my first girlfriend. Ever. And I just don’t want to screw this up.”
You scoffed at his words, looking away. “So you would rather screw up a friendship of 8 years than say no to your girlfriend of two months?”
Peter shook his head, trying to find the right words. “I-I don’t want to stop spending time with you just because MJ is now part of my life. Plus, I miss our movie nights…”
You contemplated it, staring at Peter’s soft puppy eyes he was giving you.
“Okay, fine. It’s okay, I know I can be clingy sometimes, and I’m sorry-”
“You’re not clingy! At all. I’m sorry I said that.”, Peter said hurriedly.
“I just don’t want to lose my best friend Pete. Even when we went to Europe you ignored me. And I know it was because of Beck, but after that, it was always MJ this or MJ that!”
Peter hung his head down, not responding. You sighed again, staring at him. “It’s fine Peter. Let’s just try and make time, alright?”
Peter nodded, smiling hesitantly at you before opening his arms. Smiling back at him, you hugged him, feeling the warmth of his body for the first time in days. You felt him nuzzle his head into your neck, his warm breath hitting your skin, leaving a tingling sensation. Without even thinking about it, you whispered softly into his shirt. “I love you Peter Parker.” As soon as the words left your mouth, you tensed up, but Peter didn’t respond. You relaxed, as he probably didn’t hear it.
You could’ve stayed with Peter for hours, but then his phone started ringing loudly, He let go, sheepishly smiling at the annoyed librarian. Looking at his screen, you saw a picture of his and MJ, with her kissing his cheek, way too close to his mouth. Turning away, you tried to concentrate on anything else but Peter’s voice as he picked up the phone, words of love and admiration flowing out.
Hearing what MJ was saying, you leaned closer. “Where are you Peter? It’s been 15 min.”
Peter didn’t say anything for a moment, looking back at you, which made you look away. “I’m just doing something. I’ll be right there…”
He turned around to you, giving you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I gotta go. I’ll see you later though, right?”
Nodding at him, you pulled your books out again, and watched him walk out quickly, a bounce in his step. You hoped you would see him later, that he would keep his promise of spending time with you, that he would stand up to MJ and tell her that he wanted to hang out with you. But for the second time in a few days, you were wrong. So bloody wrong. And this broken promise would definitely be a punch to the heart…
Ooh, I really liked this one! Anyway, thank you for reading this, and the next part will be out later this week, possibly on Friday or Saturday. If you want to be tagged in the next part of the following fics, please just respond to this one telling me that. Until next time👋👋
Tag List: @idkatee @eternalscribblesforthesoul @loudbluepancake @poisondevotion @scram1326
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tommyquacksonholland · 2 days ago
Fix You
Request(from google forms): Where Peter Is spending the night at the readers place and he is having a nightmare(about beck/mysterio) and he subconsciously starts choking the reader and he’s mumbling things and the reader is trying to wake him up but at the end he wakes and and the reader is mad at him for almost suffocating her
Summary: You spend the night at Peters apartment but it doesn’t go as expected. 
a/n: I have a giant list of ideas for things to write and this was actually one of them so thank you for requesting! The title is inspired by Sam Smith’s cover of Fix You (beautiful cover). I can do a part 2 where you confront Peter about what happened if you guys like this.  Also I read a fic like this not to long ago so I will try not to make it too similar. I hope you like it :)
word count: 1282
“Goodnight babe.” Peter, your boyfriend of eight months, whispers against your skin kissing your cheek. 
“Good night, love you.” You say back, pulling him closer to you. You grabbed his chin gently and softly placed your lips on his. 
He smiled into the kiss and pulled away to say, “I love you so much.” 
You just smiled and pecked his cheek. He smiled back and snugged his head into the crook of your neck.
You knew Peter was exhausted, so you weren’t surprised when you heard soft snores coming from his lips. You smiled and let yourself fall asleep. 
You woke up with hands around your neck that were squeezing so hard you could barely breathe. Your hands grabbed wrists and your eyes fluttered open and saw a sleeping Peter on top of you. His head hung low and his brown curls flopped over. He mumbled, “Beck, I’m gonna kill you,” and his hands tighten more around your throat. 
You squirmed and kicked, trying to get him off of you, but it wasn’t working. “Peter,” you croaked out, squeezing his wrists. “Stop,” you said again, eyes watering from the lack of air. You kept kicking his legs, doing anything to get him out of this dream. “You hurt y/n so now you have to die.” 
“Peter, I am y/n,” You choked out, hitting his elbows to wake him up. Without much oxygen your eyes flutter shut but with all the air you have left you manage to “shout”, “Peter!” 
Peter’s eyes flutter open just as yours close. He is a little confused at first, but his eyes widen when he realizes his hands are wrapped tightly around your neck. He pulls them away immediately and jumps away from you. You suck in so much air and roll off the bed, hitting the ground with a thump. Your eyes open sightly while gasping for air and you grab your neck in fear that Peter would try to grab it again. You quickly stood up and ran into Peter’s bathroom, coughing the whole way there, without even glancing at him. 
Peter was sitting on his bed breathing heavily, staring at his hands with his eyes tearing up. He wondered, “How could I do such a thing to her? Why did I hurt her? You idiot! Now she won’t love you anymore. Shit I love her so much why did I do this?” Peter started full on sobbing into his hands because he was terrified that you would never forgive him. 
Meanwhile, you hung your head over the toilet bowl, vomiting up some of your dinner. You were still gasping for air, your eyes were also teary, and your entire body was shaking. You knew he didn’t mean to hurt you, but he DID hurt you. Right now all you wanted to do was go home, but you didn’t want to face Peter, so you sat in his bathroom trying your best not to cry. 
After Peter calmed down a little, he slowly got off the bed and walked over to the bathroom door. He knocked softly and didn’t get a response but with his super hearing he could hear you sniffling a little. This only made him more upset, and he felt terrible for what he did to you. He knocked again, and there was no response. So he finally broke the silence, “Y/n, baby. I’m so so sorry. I was having a nightmare about fighting Beck and I didn’t know I was hurting you. Please baby say something, anything, I just need to know that your ok. I didn’t mean it, baby, I’m so sorry.” He was full on sobbing by the end, and he leaned his forehead against the door. 
You had decided not to answer Peter, and that you were going to leave the bathroom, quickly gather your things, and leave as soon as possible. You inhaled a little and turned the doorknob to greet a teary eyed Peter. But you quickly pushed passed him and began gathering the few things you always brought to the apartment. Peter put his hand on his elbow and rubbed it while gazing at you. “Y-y/n, where are you going?” You sighed, “Home.” 
Peter felt a wave of guilt wash over him when you turned around, and he could see the beginnings of the purple bruises he had left on your neck. He took a step towards you, but you backed away and this caused a lot more guilt. He could see your entire body shaking because he had scared you so much. All he wanted to do was hold you and kiss you and tell you everything was going to be okay, but he had gotten the message that you didn’t want to be touched right now. You slung your backpack over your shoulder and mumbled a quick bye trying to rush out of his apartment but he stopped you by asking, “Wait y/n can I walk you home it’s really late?” 
You stopped in your tracks remembering it was 2 in the morning but you lived on the next street so you decided you’d be fine. “No, Peter, it’s only a 3 minute walk,” you said rather harshly. This startled Peter because he knew you hated walking home in the dark by yourself. “Oh okay, um be careful.” You nodded and quickly exited his apartment with your eyes tearing up. 
Once you closed the door, Peter was a sobbing mess. He fell to the floor shaking with sobs at the image of you bruised and shaking from what his own hands had done to you. He could never forgive himself for hurting you. May wasn’t home, so he had no one to comfort him and no one to talk to. He kept whispering to himself, “I’m so sorry y/n, I love you. I’m so sorry y/n, I love you.” He pulled himself up and walked back to his bed, collapsing on it. He pulled your pillow close, and it still smelled like you. The scent of tangerines and strawberries flooded his nose. He soaked the pillow with his tears and finally fell asleep. 
Thankfully, you had made it home safely, and you ran into your room, closing the door. You threw your backpack off and sank down your door, hiding your face in your hands. Sobs racked your body when you started thinking about what happened. You thought about how your relationship was going to continue and even if it was going to continue. You knew that a serious talk was going to take place, but you didn’t want to worry about that now. 
You got up and walked into your bathroom. Looking yourself up and down, you froze when you saw the purple bruises forming on your neck. You moved your hand to trace the bruises exactly where Peter had gripped you. You felt another wave of tears wash over you because you couldn’t understand how Peter, even in his sleep, could this to you. He was the cute, nerdy, cuddly kid, not someone who would ever hurt you. You loved him, you really did, but if he is hurting you, the girl he loves with all his heart, he really needs to get help. 
Feeling a wave of exhaustion, you finally decided you needed to sleep. You climb into your bed and snuggle into your pillows. You feel a lump under your pillow and you reach to pull it out. It’s Peter’s sweatshirt. You sighed, smelling it. It still smelled like him, warm and fuzzy. You laid back down and held it close to you, thinking about what you needed to say to Peter.
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blissfulparker · 2 days ago
Hi! Congratulation on 10k! That's amazing and your an amazing writer! I was wondering if you could do the writing prompt: “i’m not worthy of anybody’s love.” “that’s not true, you’re worthy of mine.” followed by the lover breaking eye-contact… + a love confession. With Peter Parker x stark!fem!hero!reader? Thank you! I hope you have a great day! <3
I kept the prompt but I made this more of an angst with fluff at the end 😭
“Please, (y/n), let’s talk about this!”
Peter Parker cried out, following you with his mask off as the two of you got done on patrol. Your arms folded as you stormed away, you hated that he chased after you like this. He made it a game almost of running after you and trying to get you to go out with him.
“Stop being so stupid, stop yelling my name and put that damned mask back on before someone sees you.” You point at him and he finally freezes. You might break his heart, but he might need it.
“Why won’t you let me in? You push everyone out and let no one love you, you let yourself wallow away in your own self pity and you know what? If Mr. Stark saw how you turned out—“ before he could even finish your fist came in contact with his face.
Your father being gone was the hardest part, he may have never been your true father but he was the closest thing you ever had to a family. Him, nat, steve, Vision, all of them you thought of as family now gone. The rest of everyone spread out, leaving you all alone. All alone with peter parker.
“Don’t you ever think you have any right to talk about me and him like that. Don’t you ever!” You shout and he backs up a bit.
“You won’t even hang out with me outside of patrol, if you ever go, my only memories of you will be watching you nearly die every night.” He swallowed hard. His eyes watery and you furrow your brows, even though with your eye mask he could not see it, you were just as hurt as him.
“Ever think maybe that is best? You have your friends, what are their names? Ned! MJ, Betty, even that flash guy you talk about it sounds like you’re becoming friends. I’m not worth your time parker, I’m not worth anyone’s time of love. I’m not worththu of anybody’s love.” You swallowed hard, your arms going back to being wrapped around your waist, wanting to go home and he could sense that.
“Maybe if you give it a try you’ll realize people love you more than you think. And that’s not true, you’re worthy of my love. You always have been.” He stepped back, sliding the mask back over his face. “Call me when you’re done playing the villain.” He turned to walk away but for once you reached out and caught his hand.
“Y-You said you liked sushi...” you still weren’t sure how this whole love thing worked, you needed to start over though and peter was a good start. “Lets start there?” You try and he nodded.
Although peter parker never liked sushi, raw fish wasn’t for him but he knew that you liked it and hoped you two could bond over it.
“I actually don’t like sushi, that’s your favorite. When you love someone you start to pick up on their favorite things. It’s not creepy, just something you remember them by.” He walked past you stood still. Staring at him as he walked to the edge of the building. “You coming?” He asked and you snapped out of your thoughts to follow.
You had a lot to learn about loving again, so much to learn. But maybe, just maybe, a rooftop fight and dinner at a run down sushi place with the best boba tea was a good place to start learning again. He was a good place to start to learn again.
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callmeniyahoran · 2 days ago
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Heyyy! I’m going to be writing all night tonight and posting some One-shots of Peter Parker/Tom Holland and Niall Horan [maybe some frat boy era for both] ;) so let me know if you want to be tagged in them and which ones you want to be tagged in!! -xxx
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cuddlemen0w · 2 days ago
daily dose of failure | peter parker x reader
(+ the group aka mj, ned and harry)
a/n: heya so it got some attention and i’m posting something more for it :) hope you like it!! any feedback is appreciated and cherished <3
Peter paced from one end of his bedroom to another. “Shit!” His foot collided with the small bed frame. “This is absolutely fucking great! Amazing!” he yelled out as he kicked the wood few more times.
He sat down on his bed in frustration and sighted loudly. His foot hurt and fingers started to tremble in his lap from the anxiety he was feeling. “Shit,” Peter said again. His eyes now pricked with tears. “This is not how I wanted it to go.”
“Peter, we’re here,” MJ called out into the small apartment, interrupting his little mental breakdown. He shot up from his bed in instant.
Four pairs of steps entered to the living room. He heard the soft murmurs of Harry and Ned, arguing about who fucked up more. And then, there it was. Her heartbeat, her scent, her footsteps and her soft voice, speaking with MJ. He’d recognise her with his eyes closed, even without his spider sense.
Quickly, he wiped the few tears that escaped his eyes and called from his room. “In here!”
Only a deep breath after, the steps of his friends drew closer. His heart picked speed. It’s gonna be fine. He told himself. Shadows could be seen from under the door. They were right outside his closed door now. It’s gonna be ok. Someone’s hand touched the doorknob, opening the door as if in slow motion. It’s NOT ok!
y/n opened the door carefully, trying not to startle him. “Pete?” No response. “Peter? Can I come in?” Nothing.
She opened the door all the way, stepped into his ‘man cave’ as he liked to call it—despite the many lego toys that were all around it—only to find out he wasn’t there. Searching in the closet and looking out of the window on to the fire escape; he wasn’t anywhere. “Oh Petey,” she breathed and sat on his unmade bed.
“He’s not here isn’t he?” MJ asked as she saw her friend sitting sadly on the boy’s bed.
“No,” she forced a small smile. “I really wanted to—”
MJ interrupted, “I know. But it’s his loss. Now, if he doesn’t show up in five, we’re going to the movies without him,” she tried to cheer up. “And getting that cheese nachos he hates so much.” It seemed to work because y/n got up from the bed right that moment.
“Shouldn’t be this eager but he really doesn’t like that cheese and I crave it so much.”
Peter sat on the roof. His feet dangling from the side, the red-black mask in one hand. His head was in the other, messing his already pretty messy hair. He smacked the side of his head. “I’m so stupid.”
“You are.”
Peter’s eyes widened. “What!” He never turned around so fast. “Mister Stark, what— what are you doing here?” he paused for a second in disbelief.
“Came to check up on you, and found you here. Moping like a teenager in unrequited love.”
Oh, how right he was. Peter thought to himself.
“What’s bothering you kid?”
“What you said,” he stated simply, looking back down on the city. “Here,” he gestured around himself, “it makes me feel calm, clears my head.”
The man in the iron suit just nodded and sat right beside him on the roof. “Looks nice.”
“She does.”
Tony looked at the still moping boy. In all his years he didn’t think for a second he’d have to deal with a teenage boy, in his feels, and give him dating advice on top of it. But here he sat. The boy he cared for as if he was his own next to him, sniffing and wiping his nose.
“Kid,” he put his hand on Peter’s sagging shoulder. “Sometimes you face things, not so pleasant things.”
Peter snorted and Tony glared playfully. “Fine, fine, go on.”
“Like telling a girl, or a boy. I don’t judge. That you like them. It’s not easy, but if you want to be happy, you gotta grow some balls.” Tony clapped Peter’s shoulder affectionately.
“That is the worst advice I’ve ever heard,” Peter cracked.
Tony mocked hurt by putting his metal clad hand onto the blue light on his chest. He cracked too. “At least it made you laugh.”
After a moment the laughter died down. Peter breathed deeply. “Maybe I should grow some balls though,” he paused and looked at the mask in his hand. “With this, I’m confident. I’m a superhero. But when I’m... me. I’m pathetic.”
“No, kiddo.”
But Peter continued. “No, I really am. My friends had to be the ones to tell a girl that I like her. I would probably take it to my grave. I’m always so close to telling her, but then I just black out or— or run away,” he gestured around once more. “The Peter in me, is a coward.”
Tony could only watch. He was out of words.
“Maybe, maybe I shouldn’t be the one to tell her,” Peter thought for a minute. “Maybe someone else should do it for me!” he grinned in triumph.
“Kid? What do you mean?”
“You’ll see Mister Stark,” Peter looked to the many lights in the big city. “And I’m not going to be a coward.”
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