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flightlessangelwings · 8 months

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Us Against the World

Tasm!Peter Parker x gn!reader

Word count- 4.4k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Move,” you pleaded softly.

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

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

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

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

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

“Me too baby,” Peter grunted, “Fuck…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was like he knew.

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

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

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

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

You gasped as your eyes went wide.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You knew what he meant too: Stay safe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come on,” you breathed, “Hurry!”

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

But you suddenly had something else to worry about.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hmm?”

“What happened… To…?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Against the world,” you finished the thought.

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

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

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

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

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

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slytherheign · 11 months

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WORTH IT ALL | tasm!peter parker

PART 5/5 OF WORTH: THE SERIES.

PAIRING: tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 12.9k

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

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

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

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

Peter was proven right yet again.

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

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

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

So he did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How do you know I’m here for her?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

The car. Shit.

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

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

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

He found it.

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

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

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

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

“Okay. We’ll be with you anyway.”

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

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

No one knew how much time had passed.

No one knew what was happening to Peter.

No one knew what was going on outside.

But you all knew that you were all scared.

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

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

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

Hey, Pete.

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

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

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

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

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

I’m sorry, Peter.

For leaving.

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

I miss you so much, Pete.

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

I love you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was his turn to fight for himself.

He didn’t want to be lonely anymore.

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

He would be selfish just this once.

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

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

He would fight for this love.

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

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

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

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

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

“Jameson?” he called out.

Silence.

“Jonah?” he tried again.

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

Blood.

Blood was everywhere.

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

But what he saw next was even worse.

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

“Fuck fuck fuck. Shit.”

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

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

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

“No no no no.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your parents’ bedroom.

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

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

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

And there it was.

The king-sized bed with yellow sheets.

The large window that overlooked the most painful view.

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

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

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

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

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

“Pleaseeee!” you pleaded.

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

“No donuts, no seatbelt.”

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

“Promise?”

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

“Promise, baby.”

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

“Daddy, where’s the donuts?”

“Sorry, Y/N, it’s too late.”

“BUT YOU PROMISED!” you screamed.

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

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

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

“BUT YOU PROMISED ME!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N. Stop,” your father warned.

You didn’t listen.

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

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

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

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

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

So you believed her.

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

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

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

You stopped believing in promises anymore after that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t need to know that.”

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

“Long enough.”

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

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

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

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

“Mom…”

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N, baby, mommy’s tired…”

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

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

“Tell me what I need to do, please…”

“You can’t do anything, baby–”

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

She could only shake her head.

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

“I can’t.”

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

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

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

“Try a little bit more?” you pleaded.

“I don’t want to anymore.”

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

“Y/N, baby, look at mommy.”

And you did.

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

You could do that.

“Okay…”

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

“Honey, can you hold my hand?”

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

“Darling, talk to me please.”

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

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

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

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

“I miss Dad…” you mumbled.

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

“I’m sor–”

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

“But–”

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

“Okay.”

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

“Y/N?”

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

“Come here, let me kiss your forehead.”

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

“Y/N, baby, can you close your eyes?”

“Why?” your eyebrows furrowed with confusion.

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

And you did.

“I love you, my baby.”

You knew what was happening.

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

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

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

She has let go.

Let go of you.

Let go of life.

She was gone.

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

Something caught your eye. A television.

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

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

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

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

And then the large window in the room suddenly shattered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” you replied sternly.

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

“I said no. I’m not moving.”

He chuckled darkly.

“Too bad. You’re coming with me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He did it.

He saved you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was going to kill MacDonald Gargan and Mitchell Gargan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No. I’m staying.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You pulled the trigger.

This time, you went for the head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Spider-Man was Peter Parker.

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

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

“I know–I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” you scoffed. “Sorry?! I was miserable! You just left me–” your breath hitched as you sobbed. “You just left me all alone. I grieved for you, I mourned you. There were days… a lot of them… where I couldn’t get out of bed because the thought of you buried six feet deep underground left me suffering with so much pain that I became numb. I couldn’t even move, Peter.”

“I’m sorry,” he cried.

“The moment you died, I felt lifeless too,” you told him.

“Y/N, please,” he tried to hug you but you stepped back.

“It’s so unfair!” you screamed, exhausted. “You’re fucking unfair. You were hiding behind a fucking mask as Spider-Man, talking to me and listening to me while I was mourning you. How could you do that? How could you enter my life as someone else? You witnessed me crying for you and yet you still chose to put up an act.”

“I did it to protect you.”

“Well, look at me now. I just killed someone. I’m still heavily involved in this mess. You can’t stop everything from happening.”

“I know that now, and trust me, I’m disappointed in myself as well. Just listen to me, please,” he pleaded.

“You didn’t just mess with my heart, Peter. You messed with my life.”

“Please! Y/N…” he cried out. He was scared of losing you again. “You’re allowed to get angry. I understand why you’re mad at me but please just listen. Hear me out, at least.”

You looked at him with your tearful eyes. As much as you hated him right now, your love for him was so much bigger than the anger you were feeling. “Go ahead,” you replied.

“I never told you how Gwen died,” he swallowed. “She died because of me. I have a lot of enemies. As Spider-Man, I bear heavy responsibilities that come with the power I have. As long as I’m Spider-Man, there’s always going to be danger following my footsteps. I…” he paused. “I bring harm to people close to me, to people that I care for and love. Years ago, I fought a friend turned enemy. Gwen was there, she was so adamant about helping me and I will always regret that I let her. He dropped Gwen through the top of a clock tower and I was able to catch her. But when Harry and I fought again, one thing led to another, she got caught up in the mess and fell. I tried to save her, I-I caught her with my webs but–but my webs weren’t enough.”

You didn’t dare to speak and let him say everything he needed to say.

“You know that thing that happened to you just moments ago? When Mitch threw you off the building and you almost fell to your death? That’s almost exactly what happened to Gwen years ago. The only difference is she didn’t survive because I failed to save her,” his lips started to quiver but he continued to talk. “What almost happened to you was the reason I didn’t tell you I was Spider-Man. It was why I chose to pretend I was dead because I’d rather be out of your life than bring harm to it.”

“Peter, I…”

“I don’t wanna lose anyone anymore, Y/N…” he sobbed. “I’m tired of visiting graves, tired of saving other people when I couldn’t even save the ones closest to me. I know I hurt you, but it hurt me to do it too. Please understand, Y/N. I’m not forcing you to forgive me, I just need you to understand.”

You hugged him tightly, letting his head rest on your shoulder. He closed his eyes.

“I’m sorry… I was stupid. I saw a major threat and my first instinct was to get you out of my life. But then I realized that I can’t function properly when I’m not with you, so I entered your life as Spider-Man. I-I was gonna tell you the truth eventually, I swear,” he confessed.

You were certain you knew Peter before, but now you saw him in an entirely different light. “I can’t forgive you right now. You left my life, you can’t just walk right in and expect that everything will be the same…” you told him with full honesty. “But I do understand you, Peter. I have some secrets too that I haven’t told you—about my parents and my past.”

He looked up to meet your eyes. He knew you still loved him, and he was going to do everything to make it up to you. “If you’re still up to it, can we start again?” he asked.

“This time, no secrets,” you added.

He nodded.

“I have an idea,” you said.

“Hmm?”

“What if you move in with me?” you asked him, saying the exact same thing he said when he first offered you to be his roommate. “Be roommates with me?” you smirked.

“Deal,” he answered, also saying the word you said when you accepted his offer back then. He laughed before letting his forehead gently touch yours.

“I love you, Peter.”

“I know,” he teased. “I read your texts.”

“And?” you asked cheekily.

“And I love you too, Y/N. With all of my being.”

His lips met yours passionately. The kiss wasn’t just a declaration of love but also a sharing of understanding between the two of you. Every kept-up emotion you and Peter buried inside yourselves was poured into that kiss. When the two of you opened your eyes and pulled away to catch your breaths, you saw that Carlos was lifted up by a helicopter and was immediately sent to the hospital. Charlene went as well.

Peter immediately put on his mask again when he noticed the medics walking up to both of you. When they reached you to offer their help, you accepted it while Spider-Man declined. However, when they lead you to another helicopter that will direct you to the hospital, he insisted on staying with you. The authorities didn’t dare to disagree.

6 MONTHS LATER.

A lot has happened in the course of 6 months.

After the tragedy, the whole city of New York was left in mourning. People from all over the world heard the news. Some of your friends from other countries even called you to check up on you. You told them you were fine. They didn’t need to know the truth.

J. Jonah Jameson and everyone in the Daily Bugle building that day was recognized for their contribution to the journalism world. There was no Daily Bugle for a couple of months to give way for its rebuilding and out of respect for everyone who passed away. When the news program came back, the Daily Bugle was relocated to a new building because the old building held so much tragedy and trauma.

Spider-Man made a deal with the government, he told them everything—including the names of everyone involved in Mac Gargan’s experiment, the people that Jameson mentioned were his and Stillwell’s ‘trusted friends’. In exchange, he asked them not to reveal the scorpions’ real identities. In the eyes of the public, MacDonald and Mitchell Gargan were just two unfortunate souls who got involved in the fight and died. As for Jameson, because his ‘trusted friends’ were now in jail, they got angry and revealed to the public that Jameson was also involved. To save his reputation in the slightest bit, Spider-Man spoke to the public that Jameson was only forced to do it and he was only threatened to have the experiment be conducted in his basement. The people believed Spider-Man.

As for Carlos and Charlene, they moved out of their old house and purchased a home that was situated near yours. A home where Carlos was finally free to design with as many bonsai trees as he liked. Since some of the officers were in jail because of their involvement with the scorpion experiment, they both got promoted and Charlene became the head of NYPD.

As for you, you weren’t afraid to go to your late parents’ room anymore. In fact, after the window that Mitch Gargan broke was fixed, you claimed it as your room and Peter claimed your old room. You both agreed on still having separate rooms, although most nights, you slept beside each other in one of them. About your job, you transferred back to Greta Marketing Co. in New York, and because Mitch was gone, you took up his position. You and Charlene also discovered that it was her brother who died with your father in that accident. After that discovery, you two became closer and treated each other as sisters.

As for Peter, he kept his close friends closer and loved you more than ever. He told you everything about his past and how he was feeling every time. He kept his word when he agreed that there will be no more secrets between you. When you told him about your past, including the significance of the window and the bed in your room, he empathized with you even more.

The truth was, you and Peter have already lost a lot of important people in your lives, forcing both of you to build up a wall to surround yourselves in hopes of protecting yourselves from experiencing the hurt that comes with yet another loss.

But with life came the death, and with beginning came the end. Loss in life was inevitable, and building up a wall would only create a barrier that would stop you from enjoying life as it was. The two of you realized that. So, each and every day, little by little, you were breaking down his wall and he was breaking yours.

Two broken people were healing each other.

“I’m sleepy,” you yawned. You had your head on his shoulder as the two of you watched a movie in your room.

Peter chuckled. “Go ahead, sleep. I’ll stay here,” he replied. He adjusted your head in a more comfortable position. The television was still playing but his mind was somewhere else.

He mused about how love came with realizations.

When you love, you were bound to take risks.

When you love, you were bound to shed tears.

When you love, you were bound to wait.

When you love, you were bound to feel pain.

And as Peter kissed your forehead while you were sound asleep, he revisited all the risks he took, the tears he shed, the moments he had to wait, and the pain he had to endure just to have you here, beside him, where he could finally call you his, and him, yours.

You were worth it all.

SLYTHERHEIGN TAGLIST: @writingstoraes @joshiiieeenesx

TASM!PETER PARKER TAGLIST: @mymilkducts @i-am-woman-strong @lauraneedstochill @jeanettexkillian @ms-mandalore @enaraism @alessandralol @sad-darksoul @sincericida @mentallystablepotato @mich0731 @logolepsic-insomniac @k0miiki @dreamsarecloserwithyou @jumilzzz @primroseparker @preciousbabypeter @myheartonthemove @rebecca-johnson-28 @silkholland @ellievickstar @okkulta @geekygamerchick @starqwerty20 @the-quiet-observer @softiepeterpan @willowhaired @sflame15-blog

a letter from the author:

this is it! WORTH: THE SERIES has finally ended. thank you so much for being with me as i ventured through the world of peter, y/n, carlos, and charlene. this series took almost a year to make. after 5 parts and thousands of words, we have reached the finish line. i’m forever grateful for all the support and patience you’ve given this story. worth the risk was the first imagine i ever posted on tumblr, and since then i have gained a lot of friends from this app. i hope you’ll stay with me because WTS may be done, but there is more to come from this writer.

love, rheign.

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websterss · 1 year

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𝐓𝐎𝐌!𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑

𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒: ‣ A Leap of Faith. ✻ ‣ Memories Remain. ✻ ‣ Nonexistent. ✻ ‣ Screw Fate. ‣ Unexpected. ‣ You Could Be Twins.

𝐍𝐖𝐇 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒: ‣ Can’t Catch A Break. ‣ My Atlantis, We Fall. ✻ ‣ Unforgettable.

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒: ‣ Coming Soon.

𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒: ‣ Peter being oblivious to your feelings. ‣ Peter gets mad at Fury for shooting you with a dart. ‣ Being able to only see Peter when you sleep. ‣ Peter being a werewolf | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4.

𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐖!𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑

𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒: ‣ Coming soon

𝐍𝐖𝐇 𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒: ‣ The One. ✻

𝐏𝐒𝟒!𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑

𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒: ‣ Coming soon

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒: ‣ First Impressions.

‣ 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎: 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐒

#peter parker #tom!peter parker imagines #tom!peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker imagines #peter parker x reader #peter parker x fem!reader #andrew garfield!peter parker x reader #andrew garfield!peter parker imagine #andrew!peter parker #andrew!peter parker imagines #tasm!peter parker imagines #tasm!peter parker imagine #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker x fem!reader #ps4!peter parker #ps4!peter parker imagines #ps4!peter parker imagine #ps4!peter parker x reader

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withahappyrefrain · 1 year

Text

A Little Miracle

Summary: Getting ready for the holidays is never easy. Luckily Peter is there to help his wife. Aka Peter and Sunshine celebrate Hannukah

Warnings: uh, Peter is real fucking Jewish in this (it's what Andrew Garfield would have wanted), some language, you don't need to read Here Comes the Sun (though please do!) Just know this is grumpy!Peter with Sunshine!reader who he literally calls Sunshine.

"Did you get the wine?" She asked after opening the door to their balcony.

Peter took off his mask to reveal his rolling amber eyes, "Nice to see you too, my beautiful wife."

A giggle escaped her lips, bringing a small smile to Peter's face.

"You're right, I'll try again." She stepped back inside the apartment, closing the door.

Not even five seconds passed before the door opened again, a big smile on her face as she skipped up to Peter.

"Husband! Love of my life!" She stood on the tips of her toes to be able to press a kiss against one of Peter's cheeks, "Did you get the wine?"

Peter couldn't help but chuckle at his Sunshine's antics. He turned his head so that he could capture her lips with his.

When she broke away, she noticed the paper bag he was holding up.

"You are my hero! I would have gone myself, but I had started frying the sufganiyot," she explained before taking the bag.

"You're making sufganiyot? Sunshine, we already have rugelach and kugel. Not to mention the gilt Miles is going to bring because it's the only thing he remembers about Hanukkah," Peter followed his wife inside, the smell of freshly made bread and dough in the air.

"For the last time, kugel is a side dish. You eat it with dinner Peter!" She said as she returned to the kitchen.

"It's a sweet noodle dish!" Peter exclaimed, sitting down to take off his gloves and boots.

"Yes, which is why it perfectly compliments the brisket!" She motioned to the oven, where the large piece of meat had been cooking.

It was then Peter took in the sight of the kitchen; dishes that had been used were now drying on the rack, a bowl of grated potatoes on the counter, along with matzah meal and various spices.

"Sunshine, when did you get up this morning?" Peter asked, walking up to his wife.

"I slept in until seven!" She said, trying to ignore the concerned look that adored his features.

"Besides, my nausea hasn't been that bad today! I only got sick three times and that's really good for me and…." Her voice trailed off as Peter's amber eyes burned into her.

"MJ," he said, voice stern.

"Look, I know what you're about to say and I had the energy! I'm not hurting myself or anyone else. It's just….this is the last time I'll get to do this because next year will be different and I know that sounds selfish but I just," she looked down, which made herself appear smaller than she already was, "I want to do as much as I can before things change."

Peter slowly walked up to her, his longer fingers gently wrapping themselves around her chin, forcing her to look up.

"30 minutes. Just lay down on the couch for thirty minutes. Please?" His hands cradled her face, thumbs stroking the soft skin of her cheeks.

Despite all the jokes about how whipped Peter was for her, people always forgot about Peter's effect on her.

She was stubborn and the only reason why more folks didn't use that word to describe her was because she loved doing things for other people. That's what she was stubborn about. If a meal needed to be cooked, she'd not only do it in a heartbeat, but make enough of the entree for three days of leftovers, along with delicious sides. If there was a dessert, they're had to be three other options because folks were picky about which sweet to consume.

And that's how it had been. So focused on others, often at the expense of herself. But then Peter came in and flashed those whisky-casted eyes that gave Bambi a run for his money, becoming the only one who was able to convince her it was okay to take time for herself.

She eyed the counter, then her husband, "You gotta get all the moisture out this time."

"I have learned from the mistakes of my attempt at potato kugel," Peter reassured her before pressing his lips to her forehead.

"I kept telling you-"

"You most certainly did," Peter quickly pecked her nose, then her lips.

"That savory kugel is something that someone had to make for their goy parents in law. That's it's just a giant baked latkae which-"

"You need to get all the moisture out," Peter finished, now on his eyes which allowed him to be at eye level with her stomach (though he still had to bend).

"I'll bring over the bowl for you to inspect. And even though you shouldn't think about this way…..if it makes you feel better, you're not just doing this for yourself," his fingers pushed up her sweater, revealing her stomach that was growing more and more each day.

"You're doing it for Sophie," he said before pressing a kiss into the skin of her belly.

She could feel the heat growing up to her cheeks, something that happened every time he found a way to show affection to their unborn child.

"Could also be a Benjamin. We won't know until next week," she said softly.

Peter stood up, moving so he was behind her. He placed a hand on her back, guiding her out of the kitchen and to the couch.

"I told you, my senses are telling me that it's going to be a Sophie," He grinned.

His own ray of sun playfully rolled her eyes, "I may not know much about radioactive spider bites and their after effects, but I'm pretty sure that's not how it works."

"We'll just have to wait until we get to the doctors, okay? I'm just saying though, if I'm right-"

"You can order the takeout that night, as long as I get extra-"

"Crab Rangoon with double sweet and sour sauce. How did pregnancy make you un-lactose intolerant?" Peter asked as he helped her lie down on the couch, fluffing up her favorite pillows.

She shrugged, "I don't know how pregnancy works Peter. It's fucking weird."

"Its fucking fascinating."

"Please don't go all scientist on me, you have latkes to form and fry." A giggle laced her words. The exact giggle that always made the corners of Peter's eyes crease from happiness.

"I'll start a timer for thirty minutes, okay Sunshine?" Peter said before pressing another kiss to her stomach.

"Don't forget to bring the bowl over to me before you start forming them," She said, bright eyes already closed.

"I never forget anything you say," Peter whispered, moving up to gently peck her lips.

—------------------------------------------

The apartment was now bustling with people, along with the delicious smells of various fried foods and brisket.

"I hope you didn't put yourself through too much trouble making all of this!" May exclaimed, squeezing her daughter-in-law's shoulder.

Peter loosely wrapped his arms around his wife's stomach (her ever growing bump concealed by a large sweater), "I helped too May!"

May playfully rolled her eyes at her nephew, "Peter, buying the wine is important but it's different from cooking."

"He helped with the cooking!" His sunshine looked up at him, smiling, "he did the latkes and helped finish the brisket while I napped!"

May's eyes narrowed, looking back and forth between Peter and Sunshine.

"You okay dear? Didn't you have a stomach bug recently too?" She asked.

Peter noticed his wife's grip on her wine glass tightened.

"She's gotten over the stomach bug! Just catching up on all the sleep she's been missing over winter break, right bug?"

"Yeah! That's how I usually spend my winter breaks," she agreed, forcing out a chuckle.

May nodded, though she didn't look entirely convinced, "Well, you two let me know if there's anything I can do to help!"

It wasn't until May walked away that the two were able to visibly relax.

"You think she knows?" Peter whispered.

"This is the woman who knew about you being Spiderman and didn't say shit for six years. If she does know-which is very likely, considering I have tea with her weekly- she's not going to say anything until we do," she whispered back.

"True, she'll wait. Felicia on the other hand," Peter looked over to the silver-haired woman who was currently talking to Johnny by the drink dispenser.

"Oh yeah, she didn't believe me when I said this was wine and not grape juice," She said, her sweet voice hushed.

"Yeah, Felicia will just straight up ask. Especially if Johnny encourages her."

She was about to take a sip out of her glass when she paused, "Why would Johnny encourage her?"

Peter looked away. Before dating her, he thought May's judging glare was bad.

Nothing compared to her's. Probably because her face was usually bright and cheerful. To see something resembling a scowl chilled Peter to the bone.

"Um….okay! I….I may or may not have mentioned to him that I needed to pick up more ketchup for you to put on your sliced cheese and he said 'that's an odd craving' and gave me a look. But!" Peter held up a finger to stop whatever words were about to come out of her mouth, "That's all he said, so maybe he doesn't know!"

"We should just light the candles now," was all she said before walking away. Not that she got far, as she was stopped by a certain teenager who already towered over her.

"Mazel tov!" Miles picked her up in a hug, "That's what you say for Hanukkah, right?"

"Not really, but you're trying," She giggled, hugging the teen back.

—---------------------------------

"You sure you remember the words Peter?" May asked as Peter stood in front of the menorah.

Peter scoffed, "Uncle Ben ingrained it into my brain May. Of course I remember it!"

Peter felt his hand being squeezed by a much smaller one. He looked over to see his wife, giving him a reassuring smile.

Just three years ago, he wouldn't have been able to make such a comment. Nor would he have gone to a party, much less hosted one.

One of the many benefits of letting some sunshine into his life.

He recited the prayer, first in Hebrew, then in English as he used the shamash to light the other candles. He smiled as he heard her whisper the words along with him, no doubt the words also ingrained in her head.

"So for those who aren't Jewish," Peter paused, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants, "Hanukkah is all about celebrating a great miracle-"

"Peter, we all saw the Rugrats episode when we were kids" Felicia commented before taking another sip of wine.

"The what episode? Were we supposed to watch something before coming here?" Miles asked.

Johnny sighed as he stared into his wine glass, "How old you make me feel should be a crime."

"As I was saying! Hanukkah is all about celebrating miracles with the people you love. It's a great time to gather around, eat delicious food, and remember a time about how people preserved and got through tough times," Peter shot his wife a please help me look, yes, I know I should have planned this out you can yell at me later look.

"What Peter is trying to say," she stepped in, grabbing Peter's hand, "Is that on the final day of remembering and celebrating a great miracle, it seemed appropriate for us to share with you all that we have our own little miracle to celebrate."

"Hold up, are you saying what I think you're saying?" Felicia asked, putting down her wine glass to show how serious she was.

"Is there a ninth miracle? Are you sure I wasn't supposed to watch something before coming here?" Miles whispered.

"We're gonna have a baby! I'm due in June," She finally confirmed, the news being received with cheers.

The next few minutes were a whirlwind, with both Peter and Sunshine receiving congratulations and hugs, even a few tears (not that Johnny would ever own up to it).

Somewhere, somehow, Peter made his way over to his wife, pulling her into a hug (super strength came in handy, particularly when it came to pulling someone away from one of May's big hugs).

"I love you," he said before pressing his lips against hers.

"I love you too Peter. No one else I'd rather do this with," she giggled upon breaking away, burying her head into his chest.

-----------------------------------------------

@p3mybeloved @letmeplaytheliontoo @xbamboowishesx @liz-allyn @sincericida @rae-gar-targaryen @mrshipsmcgee @blooming-violets if you want to be tagged for my Peter stuff, let me know!

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katyswrites · 2 years

Text

Dress

summary: Our secret moments in your crowded room; they've got no idea about me and you; there is an indentation in the shape of you; made your mark on me, a golden tattoo

pairing: tasm!peter parker / fem!reader

genre: smut, romance, fluff

wordcount: 4.2k

content warnings: 18+ only, MINORS DNI, smut, nsfw, literally pure filth, some fluff, college!peter, college!reader, fem!reader, established relationship, semi-public sex, secret relationship (kind of), possesive!peter (kind of), oral sex (f and m receiving), titty worshipping, cursing, p in v, fingering, vaginal sex, drunk sex, overstimulation if you squint, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), Peter is whipped for Y/N, also Harry never turned evil because I said so

*CHARACTERS ARE 18+!!!!*

From the moment you walk into the party, you feel his eyes on you. How can you not? You arrive late, knowing he’d be here. When you and your girlfriends enter the house, through the smoke and sweat, you lock eyes with him instantly. He’s across the room, in the corner with his friend Harry, a red Solo cup raised to his lips.

You avert your gaze quickly, eyes flitting to anywhere else in the room. Still, you were looking at him long enough to see him nearly choke on his drink. You smirk as you open your bottle of cider, in spite of yourself. Before leaving your apartment, you had debated whether to wear your little black dress or not - evidently, it’s the right decision. You know he is trying to catch your attention again, to corner you, but you don’t care - at least, you pretend not to.

“Come on, let’s dance!” Natalie cries, beckoning you into the center of the room. You laugh as your roommate grabs your hand, leading you into the crowd. Soon, you lose yourself in the beat of the music, closing your eyes and swaying with your friends. It’s the same standard shit they played in every frat party you’d ever been to, but you didn’t care - it’s finals week, you’re finally free, and you know Peter Parker is going to be watching. Soon, you’re drunk, sweaty, and feel every care you have dissipating by the minute. Every so often, you even forget that Peter was there somewhere, thinking about you.

It is thrilling, to say the least - knowing that nobody at this party, including your own best friends, know about you and Peter. You’ve heard them talk, of course, about how hot Peter Parker is, and how they wish they knew more about the mysterious genius who skated to class each day. Little do they know, that every time they brought up Peter, or sat next to him in class, or pried about your love life, that he had fucked you the night before. Or that morning. Or in the car 20 minutes earlier. You and Peter are each other’s dirty little secrets, and you can’t think of anything more exciting. And, although you want to tease him for a bit, you know exactly how tonight would end.

As the minutes fade into hours, you find yourself stumbling to the bathroom. As you wash your hands, you look up at yourself in the mirror. Even though you had felt like a million bucks when you walked into the party, you aren’t so sure now - you’re sweaty, practically leaking alcohol; your hair is beginning to frizz a bit, and your dark lipstick is starting to fade. Still, you know you’re doing about as well as any other girl at this stage in the party - and, you know that you look pretty killer in your dress. You take a deep breath, and open the door to re-enter the chaos outside - only to come face-to-face with Peter.

“Hi,” he says, giving a small grin.

“Hey,” you breathe back. Despite every intention, you still feel warm and weak in the knees when you’re this close to Peter, especially when he won’t tear his eyes away from yours.

Did he see you going to the bathroom, and follow you? Did he wait for you outside, hoping to get you alone? You secretly hope so.

“I, uh -” you say, stumbling slightly over your words, “I - I brought other drinks… I need to get them… they’re uh - they’re in the bedroom.” You gesture your head down the hall, to the closed door just before the kitchen.

Peter follows your gaze, and nods a little too enthusiastically. “Yeah, right - me too - I mean… I need something, um, from that room too.”

You nod, doing your best to stay nonchalant - you finally tear yourself from the doorway of the bathroom, much to the relief of the line of people waiting for it. Peter waits a moment before heading the same direction, trying not to appear as if he was following you.

You stumble slightly down the hall, your heeled booties suddenly seeming like a mistake, even though you know they are part of the reason you can feel Peter’s eyes on your ass. You jiggle the handle of the old door and swing it open, walking in. Peter follows a moment later, quickly closing the door and pushing the inner lock.

You turn to him, but before you can even say anything, his hands are on you. He grabs your face, pulling you close and crashing your lips together. Your breath catches in your throat for a moment, before you relax into the kiss. It’s rough, demanding, and everything you need right now. This was beginning to become familiar, easy; it didn’t hurt that Peter knows how to kiss. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pulling yourself flush to him. He continues to kiss you, tasting cheap beer, and you love everything about it. You open your mouth more, allowing his tongue entrance. As you try to pull back for air, he gently catches your bottom lip in his teeth, a quiet groan escaping from somewhere deep within his chest.

“God, I missed you,” he breathes, panting almost in unison with you. It’s true - with finals, you and him had holed yourselves up in the library, or with study groups, or in office hours - you hadn’t really sought each other in over two weeks.

“Me too,” you gasp, as his lips make their way to your neck, wasting no time in sucking the sensitive skin there. “Peter!” you cry, grabbing onto his shoulders. “That’s gonna leave a mark, they’ll see -”

“I don’t care,” he growls. “I want you to remember this - to remember exactly who you belong to.”

You hate the way your knees almost buckle at that. Sometimes, Peter was slow, gentle, and you could have your way with him - tonight isn’t one of those nights.

“That’s what you get,” he says, between kisses, “for showing up here tonight, looking like that, in that little tight dress.” He never stops assaulting your neck, alternating between sucking and peppering kisses up and down, until he eventually makes his way back to your lips.

You smile at that. “Well you know,” you say, running your fingers through his hair, “I only bought this dress so you could take it off.”

This sets Peter off. He seizes your lips again, pulling your head towards his roughly. You stumble backwards, never breaking the kiss until your knees hit the bed, sending you backwards.

Peter leans over you, never missing a beat. “Let’s make that come true then, baby,” he says, his fingers toying with the straps of the dress. He pulls the straps down, his hurried desperation suddenly evaporating as he slowly rolls them down your arms. You shimmy up, trying to shove the straps off, but he stops you.

“Nope - I’m taking my time,” he whispers, his face centimeters from yours.

Oh - oh. He’s going to draw this out - payback for the first half of the night.

“Fine,” you concede. “Do your worst.”

Maybe I shouldn’t have said that, you think to yourself and he painstakingly rolls the straps down your arms, now opting to go one at a time; first right, then left. Then, he lifts you up slightly, effortlessly - why was he always so strong? - and reaches for the zipper at your back, He ever so slowly pulls the zipper down, but only to just below your shoulder blades before stopping. You huff in protest, but he wastes no time in yanking the top of the dress down, freeing your breasts. You knew a bra would be a waste of time tonight, you think to yourself smugly.

“Fuck,” he breathes, oggling your breasts as if he’s never seen them before. “Missed your tits so fucking much,” he whispers, burying his face between them. You close your eyes as he reaches his hand up to your left boob, massaging it as he attacks your right one with his mouth. You arch your back and cry out as he sucks on your nipple.

“God, missed your pretty sounds too,” he says, switching to the other breast, “I love how you sound when I touch you.”

“Peter -” you gasp, struggling for breath as his tongue swirls around your nipple, “please -”

“Please what?” he asks innocently, looking up at you with a devilish smirk from between the valley of your breasts.

“I need you - I need you to touch me -” you moan.

“I am touching you,” he says, lazily toying with your nipple between his fingers.

You groan. “You know what I mean.”

Peter smirks, pulling himself back up to you, and pressing a kiss to your lips. “Oh, right,” he replies. His hand snakes down, down, down -

He reaches under the hem your dress, brushing his hand along your soft inner thigh, causing you to shiver slightly. When his hands find your back lace panties, he shoves them to the side. As his fingertips brush against your clit for the first time all night, your eyes roll closed.

He spreads the lips of your cunt with his fingers, tracing circles around your clit with the pad of his thumb. As he runs his fingers along your slit, he whispers “So fucking wet - so wet for me, isn’t that right?”

You bite your lip, throwing your head back as stars dance behind your eyes. Your chest begins to rise and fall rapidly as he continues to stroke your clit. He pauses for a moment. You open your eyes, about to protest, and lock eyes with Peter. His gaze is fixed on yours, biting his lips as he concentrates where he’s reaching down between your legs. Then, he slowly sinks two fingers inside you, causing you to throw your head back again. He begins to pump his fingers, slowly, his thumb returning its attention to your clit.

You feel the heat pooling between your thighs, fisting your hands in the sheets, rolling your hips into his hand. He speeds up the ministrations of his fingers, brushing against that soft, sensitive part inside you, making your toes curl and your vision start to go white behind your eyes. Yes, yes, yes -

Then, just before you reach your peak, he stops. He quickly withdraws his fingers, leaving you feeling empty. You gasp and groan in frustration, eyes flying open. “What the -” you begin to say, almost crying from desperation.

“Shh, shhh,” he says. “I need to taste you,” he breathes, pressing a kiss to your neck. “I’d rather have you come on my mouth.”

Your heart does a somersault at that. He moves down, getting off the bed, leaving you lying there on the edge. You prop yourself up on your elbows, He reaches once again from your underwear, looking up devilishly at you from between your legs as he rolls it down your legs, baring you to the room. You shiver as the cold air hits your pussy, still sensitive from your almost-orgasm a minute ago.

He presses a kiss inside your knee, never breaking eye contact with you as he works his way up. It’s only as he’s peppering kisses along your thigh that some common sense re-enters your mind.

“Peter - isn’t this Harry’s room? His bed? Maybe we shouldn’t -”

Peter groans. “Please don’t say Harry’s name when I’m about to go down on you,” he says. His breath tickles your cunt, and you gasp for air. He chuckles, and you know he loves having this effect on you. Before you can say anything else, he buries his head between your thighs, and suddenly nothing else matters.

He closes his lips around your clit, making your toes curl and your entire body arch, because finally. Every movement of his tongue against your pussy makes you tense anew, new waves of pleasure shooting directly to your core. Your hands reach for something, anything, before finally finding Peter’s hair between your legs. You grab onto the tendrils of brunette hair, eliciting a groan out of him. The vibrations against your cunt are almost too much then and there. He opens his mouth more, messily sucking at your soaked pussy.

His tongue circles your clit steadily, slowly. You wonder how on Earth you can ever think about anything other than this, the feeling of Peter eating you out so effortlessly, while your dress is pushed around your waist, with all of your friends outside the door, oblivious. Your hips jerk, rolling into his face as he continues. He slides his hand up then, sinking two fingers knuckle deep once again into the tightness of your hole. Your breath hitches in your throat. He crooks his fingers, curling them inside you, his tongue never letting up on your clit. He finds a comfortable, unrelenting rhythm, causing your spine to arch and your entire body to seize. You moan, not caring whether anyone outside the door heard you, because it’s too much, it’s everything -

“Peter,” you moan, your voice weak. “Fuck, fuck - I’m - I’m gonna -”

“Do it,” he breathes into your cunt, continuing with his fingers. “Come for me, baby.”

One last curl of his fingers with his tongue on your clit, and the dam breaks. You practically scream, throwing your head harshly back onto the mattress. Everything below your hips is on fire, squeezing and releasing, your pussy practically gushing onto his face. You’re blind with pleasure, moaning as your cunt pulses and squeeze around his still-pumping hand. Peter continues to gently work you through your orgasm, sucking and lapping into you. You aren’t sure how long it takes for you to pass the peak and begin coming back down from your high, but soon you’re laying flat on the mattress, trying to steady your breathes as the remnants of your pleasure ebb and flow through you.

When you open your eyes, Peter’s face is hovering above yours again, evident of your orgasm glistening on his face. He’s wearing a shit-eating grin, and you wipe it off his face by pulling him in for a messy kiss, tasting yourself on him.

You feel something poke into the side of your thigh, and you realize its his clothed bulge, aching behind his jeans. He groans into your lips, and you smile.

“Let me take care of that for you,” you whisper. Before he can say anything, you’re pushing him onto his back, rolling over him. Your dress is gathered around your waist, your tits hanging out the top, and Peter is far too dressed for your liking. You reach for his t-shirt, gripping the hem. He sits up, swiftly pulling it over his head with one motion, and you’d be lying if seeing that didn’t just get you going again. You’ll never get tired of Peter’s body, you decided - you had no clue how he was always so ripped under everything, he must be a secret gym rat or something - and you pull his into another kiss, pushing him back onto the bed.

“Just relax,” you say, as you begin to kiss down his chest. “It’s your turn now.”

He exhales, throwing his head back as you settle on your knees at the end of the bed. You reach for his belt buckle, freeing him of it and his jeans. He kicks them off, and you smirk at the obvious erection straining against his boxers. You want to tease him back, for payback, but you’re over it by now. You rip them down his legs, not able to free his cock fast enough. It springs forward, slapping against his stomach. The first time you ever saw Peter’s dick, you remember gaping at how big it was, and he just laughed at you, even though you knew he was secretly thrilled. Now, you couldn’t wait to have him in your mouth.

You wrap your hand around his cock, and he hisses at the contact. His eyes flutter closed, and you slowly pump him a few times, reveling in the effect it’s having on him. You lean up, pressing a kiss to the head of his cock, and his hips jerk underneath you. Precum is already leaking out of him, and you spread it around the head with your thumb. You continue to pump him slowly as you wet your lips, before pressing an open-mouthed kiss around the head and taking him into your mouth.

He groans, almost painfully so. “Fuck, baby - that feels so good.” The words are strained in his throat, and you love it. The fact that this man can be reduced and molded so easily by your touch feels incredible. You take his as far as you can go, sinking you head down on his until you feel his dick nudge the back of your throat, almost gagging you. You pull your head up again, running your tongue along the bottom of his shaft as you do so. His hips buck into your mouth, his breathing labored. When you reach the top, you swirl your lips around the head, before slowly plunging down again, taking almost all of him into your mouth. You glance up at him, loving what you see - his head is thrown back, his neck arching, exposing his Adam’s apple. He’s red and flushed, eyes squeezed shut, biting his lower lip, eyebrows pinched together in pleasure. In that moment, you decide Peter Parker is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

His hips jerk again, and his cock twitches in your mouth - you know he won’t last much longer. He does too, as he rasps, “Wait, wait -”

You stop, pulling your mouth off of his cock with a pop. You look up at him, almost innocently, and he groans. “Please, I need - I want to come inside you - I need you -”

You can’t say no to that. You crawl up his body until you’re hovering over him. Without warning, he grabs your wrists, and flips you over until he’s straddling you.

“Now, about this dress -” he rasps, his voice low and rough, “I think it’s about time we get rid of it.”

Before you can react, he reaches around the back and tears through it, not even bothering with the zipper, finally baring all of you under him. He tosses the fabric to the other side of the room, diving into your neck.

“Peter!” you cry. “You just tore my dress -”

“Yeah,” he says, nudging and sucking on the sensitive spot behind your ear. “It was in the way.”

He nudges between your knees with his leg, gently parting them as he settles between them. Your annoyance quickly dissipates as you feel his cock glide along your slick folds, coating the head of his cock in your wetness.

You gasp, twitching as his cock brushes against your clit. He shifts forward, before slowly pressing himself inside of you. You both sigh together, as he slides in, and in, and in -

“Fuck,” he says, almost sounding high and dazed. “You always feel so good - so fucking tight and wet for me -”

You nod, biting your lip and grasping onto his shoulder blades. He sinks another few inches deep, until he’s fully inside, bottoming out with a groan. You sink your nails into the skin at the nape of his neck, as he buries his face into the spot where your neck meets your shoulder.

He gives a few shallow thrusts, slowly rolling his hips into yours - God, you missed this. He begins to pick up the pace, thrusting deeper, and you let your head thrust back against the pillow. He grunts as he thrusts into you, matching your moans with growing intensity.

“Oh shit - fuck - hang on a sec -” he says, hooking his hands under your knees and pushing them up, raising your hips and giving him better access for him to thrust into you deeper. You cry out, the new angle allowing his cock to brush right against your g-spot. You begin to roll your hips up to meet his thrusts.

He reaches one hand up to take yours, interlacing your fingers. The gentleness of the gesture along almost sends you over the edge, until his other hand travels back down to circle around your clit again. You practically scream, burying your head into his shoulder to muffle the sound.

“Fuck!” you cry. “That feels so good - you feel so good -”

He murmurs in agreement, continuing his thrusts.

“Please, Peter,” you gasp. “Harder, faster - I need all of you - oh my God, your cock feels so good -”

You begin rambling, losing your sense of self as Peter fucks you into oblivion. He’s gone too, whispering sweet nothings into your neck.

“Oh my God, you feel amazing - you’re the only one who makes me feel this good, baby - fuckkkk -”

His thrusts are growing erratic, sloppy, and you can tell he’s close. You begin to shake around him, your second orgasm of the night swiftly approaching.

“I’m - I’m close -” you whisper, your hips thrusting into his as he rubs your clit.

“Do it,” he says. “Come for me, come around my cock.”

You feel your peak quickly approaching, your cunt beginning to pulse. “Wait -” he says. “Look at me - I want to see you when you come.”

You do as he says, your eyes fluttering open and locking with his. He’s flushed, his hair tangled with sweat. Your eyebrows pinch together, almost crying with how beautiful he looks right now. He gives one, two, three more deep thrusts into you, and your orgasm hits you like a tsunami.

You scream, and he muffles it with a sloppy kiss, never stopping his thrusts into you, chasing his own high. Your cunt pulses and squeezes around his cock, your vision going white. You dig your nails into the back of his neck, shaking with pleasure.

He groans deeply into your neck, shuddering as he comes, emptying himself inside of you. You feel his warmth fill you up, painting your insides. He rocks into you slowly a few more times, his cock twitching through the last of his release.

He collapses on top of you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. You stare up at the ceiling, stroking your fingers through his hair down to the nape of his neck. You both lay like that for a while, allowing your breathing and heartbeats to return to normal.

Eventually, as Peter softens inside you, he takes a deep breath and pulls out, rolling off of you. You shudder at the feeling of emptiness, and turn on your side to face him. Peter looks back at you from under his dark lashes, his eyes taking you in as if seeing you for the first time. For not the first time last night, your breath catches in your throat at how beautiful he is. You reach out, tracing along the side of your face and down his jaw, He gives a warm smile, nuzzling a bit into the pillow without breaking your gaze.

“That was -” he begins -

“-yeah,” you finish, unable to say much more. Peter starts to say something else, before a crash and scream followed by laughter outside the door brings you both back to reality. Right, you think, we’re at a party. All of our friends are out there.

“Fuck you,” you whisper. Peter raises his eyebrows. “What?”

“There’s a hundred people out there, and you tore my favorite dress.”

He smirks. “You dreamed of me tearing that dress off of you.”

You pout slightly, because he’s not wrong. “That doesn’t change the fact that I have nothing to wear now. Or that we just fucked on your best friend’s bed.”

He laughs, hard enough to throw his head back against the pillow. You snort, catching the infectious laughter as you giggle at the ridiculousness of it all. As your laughter dies down, Peter shakes his head.

“You know,” he says, his voice lowering, “I wouldn’t really care if people knew about us.”

You jolt, raising yourself onto your elbow and turning to him.

“...what? But you said -”

He shrugs. “I know what I said - when we started this thing, I - I know I said I wanted to be lowkey, that it was for the best that nobody knew about us. And, I hope you know that has nothing to do with you. It’s just… things are complicated for people who get close to me, especially with other people knowing about it.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What do you -”

“I know it doesn’t make sense,” he interjects. “But trust me on this one, okay?”

You nod, still no better off than you were before.

He takes a deep breath, breaking the silence.

“Okay, here’s what’s going to happen - you’re going to text your friends, saying you got an Uber home and didn’t feel well. Then I am going to give you my clothes, and I’ll get you home without anyone seeing. Then you can change and crash there, and your friends and roommates are none the wiser.”

You shake your head. “How do you expect to get out of here with nobody seeing us? And what are you going to wear?”

He smirks again, leaning in close until your lips are practically brushing. “I’ll tell you - but only if you promise to not freak out, okay?”

You furrow your brow, but nod. “Okay - promise.”

After all - what could he possibly be hiding, besides you?

*******************************************************************************************

Author’s note: I hope you all enjoyed this story! I think it has potential to be a series, but I’m not sure yet. Likes and comments are always appreciated! Also, for those who didn’t know, this is based on “Dress” by Taylor Swift :)

#tasm smut #peter parker smut #andrew garfield smut #andrew garfield!peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker x reader #andrew garfield!peter parker x reader #andrew garfield!spiderman #andrew garfield!peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction #andrew garfield #peter parker #tasm fanfiction #tasm imagine

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mrshipsmcgee · 1 year

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A Lord & A Lady: Part 5

TASM!Peter Parker x (fem)Reader - Bridgerton AU

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven

Summary: The Duchess and Lord Peter host a pre-wedding celebration. (Third person to get the story moving ;) )

Warnings: mentioning of consumption of alcohol, mentions of poisoning, mentions of a hostage situation

For Katie & Liz

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Standing hidden in the shadows of a second floor window, the Duchess watches on as the indigo sunset sneaks away behind the tree line of her family’s old vacation home - now her home. There she stands, watching on as the people of the Ton flock to her home in their most beautiful dresses and most dashing suits, marveling at the long forgotten spacious estate.

The cobblestone and brick mansion was covered with overgrown ivy - a nuisance to many, but one of the Duchess’ most favorite parts of her home. The long, pebbled entrance to the estate was lined with candlelight and flowers, welcoming eager party guests in for celebration.

Music plays faintly through the halls of the manor, echoing against the walls, along with the chatter from the growing crowd on the main floor of the home.

A calming, raspy voice broke through the noise - “You do not suffer from cold feet, do you, my dear fiancé?”

The Duchess smiles softly to herself before turning towards the voice of her betrothed, who was standing a few steps away from her with a smile spread across his handsome face, adjusting his navy suit just as she glances his way, “Now, my dear Peter - that is an awfully silly question.”

He lets out a breathy chuckle - “Then what on earth is plaguing that beautiful mind of yours, Blue?” His brows furrow inquisitively. “Why are you hiding away from your own engagement ball?”

She bites the inside of her cheek before letting out a sigh - “I am nervous, Peter.” Her shoes click as she steps over to the man, gazing up at him before resting her forehead on his shoulder, letting out another sigh. “I just needed a moment to breathe, I suppose.”

Lord Peter’s warm fingertips move down to the Duchess’ chin, thumb and finger gently urging her gaze upward to meet his warm eyes - “I know that it seems as if the entire Ton will consume you, but I swear I am here to pull you out if they do. You say the word and I will whisk you away to wherever your heart desires,” he pulls her face to his, delicately kissing the tip of her nose before letting out a sharp exhale through his nose, followed by a cheeky grin. “If it brings you peace, you should know that the staff has prepared our favorite foods. I promise, my Bluebell, all of this should be over in just a few hours. The last of our required pleasantries will be over after this evening.”

The small smile on the Duchess’ beautiful face melts into a sorrowful look, biting her inner cheek yet again. “Peter, that isn’t it.. I feel as if something is afoot. Or - or something has gone wrong,” she explains, standing up a little straighter and placing her palm on her gut. “I feel it - deep within me. I feel as if something is watching me… Watching us.”

Peter slightly shakes his head - “It is just you and I, my love. You are safe with me,” he murmurs, his calloused fingertips spreading to cup his hand to her cheek - “No one dare watch you. No one would dare hurt you. If someone were to hurt you, I do not care to think of how I would defend you.. how I would protect you. They should pray a doctor is near if someone were to ever have the thought of harming a single hair on your beautiful head. I will always protect you. I vow it already. Until this day forward..”

He pauses - his opposite hand cups her cheek, bringing her forehead to his, “Only one more day until you are my wife. This party is just one last bump in the road until we are one. You say the word, Your Grace - and I will immediately escort you out to wherever you want.”

The Duchess smiles, shaking off the lurking paranoia in her gut and focusing on Peter’s comforting words.

“Let us go on and get things over with, my dear Peter,” she says, sweetly grabbing his hand and pulling him down the hallways towards the main staircase of the manor. “Peter, do you remember running down these halls in the summers?” She says as she continues to lead him towards the party.

“Anthony Bridgerton chasing us down the hallway wearing a white sheet to appear as a ghost is something I will never forget,” Peter says with a laugh. “He made sure the candles were always blown out and then appeared as the ghost. Mr. Cobblestone?”

“Cobblesworth!” she exclaims, rounding the corner, still pulling Peter behind her, “why on earth Ant thought that was a frightening name, I shall never-“.

“Of course I find the two of you running down the halls like you are mere children,” Lady May’s voice rang out, stopping both Lord Peter and the Duchess in their tracks. She smiles at the couple, nodding her head towards the staircase, “You two are needed downstairs. Your guests are expecting you.”

Lord Peter extends his arm towards the Duchess, holding his wide hand out, “Shall we, my dear fiancé?” He smirks, bouncing his brows at her. A small laugh erupts from the Duchess as she places her gloved hand into his, “We shall, my dear Peter.”

The betrothed step forward towards the top of the grand staircase lined with flowers and glowing lanterns extending down to the crowded dance floor where people began to stop and stare at the beautiful couple descending down the stairs.

“You look absolutely breathtaking,” Peter whispers to his bride. “I feel as if I cannot fathom that this is truly our own engagement ball.”

“I feel as if we are playing make believe, Peter,” the Duchess breathes, glancing his way. “This moment feels like a dream. Are we truly to marry tomorrow? We simply cannot be this old.”

Peter lets out a laugh as they reach the end of the staircase and step onto the marble dance floor, immediately greeted by Lady Danbury and Sarah.

“Lord Peter. Your Grace,” the two women curtsy to the couple.

“Sarah, Lady Danbury,” the Duchess smiles, reaching her hands out to two women. “This is beautiful, beyond my dreams - beautiful. It would not be so without the two of you, and of course - our lovely Lady May.”

May smiles and reaches her hand out to cup the Duchess’ shoulder, “This has truly been our pleasure, Your Grace. I simply cannot believe that tonight is a celebration for the two of you.. you still are those rambunctious children to me. Oh,” she pauses, tears beginning to form in her kind eyes before she quietly clears her throat, “Nevermind me. Tonight is a night for joy. I truly hope the two of you enjoy yourselves greatly.”

Peter clears his throat, gently wrapping his arm around Lady May’s shoulder and placing a tender kiss on her forehead, “oh, how I love you.” He looks down at her and scrunches his nose with a smile - “Though, I am convinced that you want me to shed a tear this evening, Aunt May.”

She lets out a scoffing laugh and touches her pointer finger to the tip of Peter’s nose, “Go, get drinks - enjoy yourselves. Us old hags will be around.”

Peter turns to his betrothed, holding out his hand to her - “My dear Bluebell, would you care for a dance?”

The Duchess smirks up at her fiancé, placing her hand in his - “I truly thought you would never ask, my dear Peter.”

Lord Peter leads his Bluebell through the crowd as the music plays on, pausing as they reach the middle of the dance floor.

The party guests dance around where the couple stands, just feet apart from one another underneath the ornate, candle lit chandelier in the vast ballroom. Peter steps towards his soon to be bride, slightly bowing his head to her - a smile spreading across her beautiful face before she replies with a small curtsy.

Peter reaches his hand out, fingertips gently brushing along the fabric of her gown, bringing her closer to his chest before placing his flat palm onto her lower back. Simply touching the Duchess had Peter nearly breathless, but he proceeds - his vacant hand tenderly wrapping around hers as he guides them, beginning to dance along with the crowd.

“I am so pleased to no longer have to lead us in dancing, Peter,” the Duchess giggles as they dance around the room. “Your foot has not once touched mine. I am impressed, Parker.”

Peter lets out a loud laugh, “I am also no longer shorter than you.. by far.”

“Lord Parker!” Anthony Bridgerton exclaims as he and his wife, Kate, near the couple on the ballroom floor, waltzing towards them with eager smiles.

“In the flesh, Lord Bridgerton! You must be Kate!” Peter speaks over the music. The beautiful woman in Anthony Bridgerton’s arms nods with a small smile, “I am!”

“Ah, well - I give you my sincerest apologies and condolences for having to put up with my dear old mate!” Peter jokes. “It takes a special woman to tolerate Anthony Bridgerton!”

The Duchess lets out a snort and Anthony scoffs, his tone playful as he says - “Peter Parker, I had planned to toast you and your beautiful fiancé, however I shall now refrain from that due to your blatant rudeness!”

“Please, I beg of you! Show me mercy, Lord Bridgerton!” Peter says dramatically as the song ends, “Please, Ant - forgive my unpleasantness and toast me!”

Anthony rolls his eyes, the corners of his mouth turned upward into a devilish smile as he claps his hands, “I would like to propose a toast to the beautiful couple!” The crowd silences, turning towards where the four stood in the middle of the dance floor.

The staff hurriedly disperse drinks to the party guests and hosts - most everyone grabbing a beverage from the trays from which they were being served; the Duchess and Lord Peter receiving their drinks hand-delivered.

With drinks in hand the crowd listens on as Lord Anthony Bridgerton speaks, “I have had the pleasure of knowing the soon to be bride and groom since I was a small boy,” he pauses, looking towards Peter and his Bluebell, flashing them a knowing look before he continues, “Actually - I have had the privilege of knowing these two since before I can remember. In fact, we used to play in this very home.” He looks up at the beautiful glass ceiling - the stars still shining brightly down upon him - though the amber glow of the candlestick chandelier illuminated the room. “I believe I can speak for all of us children who got to spend the summers running through these halls and playing make believe when I say that these are hallowed grounds. This home is magic. The family that resided here was magic.”

Anthony looks at the Duchess, his dark eyes so kind - as if he were a boy again as he spoke - “oh, the make believe games we would play.. This home used to be a pirate ship… or - or a mythical castle… and now it is your home, Your Grace; soon to be the home you share with Lord Parker. Hopefully one day, a home where the small patter of feet hitting the floor resides again.”

The crowd is full of sporadic giggles.

Peter and the Duchess look to one another, exchanging loving glances before turning back to Anthony, who continues - “Lord Parker, Your Grace… I pray you have a life filled with immense joy, prosperity - and that you will always and forever share a passionate love for one another.”

Anthony raises his glass, looking around the room and winking at Kate, “Please, raise your glass with me in honor of the beautiful couple.”

The crowd of people raise their glass-filled hands to the sky as Anthony says - “Cheers!”

“Cheers!” The crowd answers in return before taking a sip from their glass, cheering and clapping as the music starts back up.

“Anthony,” the Duchess coos, stepping towards him. “That was absolutely beautiful. Thank you.”

“Ant, you should be in politics the way you commanded that crowd!” Peter quips, poking his fingertips towards Anthony’s ribs, causing him to retaliate with a shoulder to Peter’s - poking him back. “Only if you do it with me!”

“Lady Bridgerton,” the Duchess smiles, stepping towards the striking woman in purple. “It is so lovely to finally meet the woman who stole my mate’s heart.” She scrunches her nose, leaning towards Kate and gently grabbing onto her hand, whispering - “You are far too beautiful for Anthony Bridgerton. Who put you up to this marriage?”

Kate bites her lips between her teeth - trying to contain a smile before letting out a chuckle and squeezing the Duchess’ hand - “Anthony told me you are as humorous as you are beautiful. It is so nice to finally meet you, Your Grace.”

“Ah - formalities…” the Duchess smiles, “Peter has started calling me Blue as of late, and I quite like it. So how about that, Lady Bridgerton?”

“If I call you Blue you shall call me Kate. No more formalities, yes?” Kate replies with a squeeze of her hand before Anthony and Peter approach them.

“Mrs. Bridgerton - we are needed in the drawing room,” Anthony smiles, squeezing Kate’s side - her beautiful face turning into an embarrassed smile just as Peter turns to the Duchess.

Peter’s soft lips brush against her ear as he leans into the Duchess - one arm barely brushing against her waist as he whispers , “We are needed in the foyer - Lady Danbury’s carriage leaves within the half hour. We must see her out.”

“We shall see you onward into the evening,” Anthony says, pulling his wife away from the crowd.

“See you, Bridgerton,” Peter says with a half smile, turning towards the Duchess - his hand urging her towards the main entrance of the mansion.

They walk towards the crowd and into the now quiet entrance of the home, meeting Lady Danbury as she awaits her departure. She stands, gripping her cane just as her carriage pulls up to the open front doors of the manor -, she turns towards the couple, smiling sweetly - “This evening was absolutely beautiful. I will see the two of you tomorrow evening.” She sighs, looking between the couple before she says, “Enjoy the rest of this event. Cherish it, for tomorrow you become husband and wife.”

Just as Lady Danbury steps into the carriage, Peter is pulled away by - “Benedict Bridgerton,” he turns, placing his hand on his friend’s back, “Just the man I was looking for.”

Benedict stops and turns to Peter, his eyes glancing quickly to the Duchess before averting back to Peter, “Lord Parker, Duchess.” He bows before taking a small sip from the glass in his hand, “Thanks for having me.”

The Duchess notices a strange tingling feeling growing on her cheeks, which also feel flush all of the sudden. Benedict and Peter exchange conversation, but their words are far too muffled for the Duchess to understand - and now that she is trying to read their lips she’s realized that her vision has grown blurry too.

She blinks, trying to see a little clearer, just as Peter places his hand on her back - his voice is muffled as he speaks. The Duchess turns to Peter, her vision finally clearing a bit as he says, “Are you okay?”

The Duchess slightly shakes her head, looking dazed and a little frightened before she says, “I - yes, yes - Peter. I believe I may have just had a few too many drinks this evening.” She looks over to Benedict and then back to Peter before she says, “Don’t mind me, you two seemed as if you were in deep conversation - I will go get a breath of fresh air outside and find you later, Peter.” She nods to her friend, “Benedict.”

“Would you like for us to escort you?” Peter says before the Duchess can leave, his honey eyes pierced through her blurred vision - “Are you sure you are alright, my Bluebell?”

“Do not worry about me. Do not spoil your fun with Benedict on my behalf - I shall only be a moment, Peter,” she says before excusing herself.

The Duchess stands yards away from the beautiful mansion - watching on as the blurry silhouettes of party guests dance around the ballroom. Muffled music plays on as she turns towards the babbling, wide creek behind her - one of her most favorite parts of her property. Limestone rock glistens underneath the stream, glinting off of the distant amber glow coming from the bustling manor.

The water seems to sparkle due to the Duchess’ growing dizziness. The chitters of animals and humming of insects from the forest just beyond the creek grow louder, overwhelming her senses.

She falls to the ground with a grunt as her head hits the grass, her vision meeting the blurred starry sky above where she lay.

“There you are, Your Grace,” a voice says from above her as a man appears in her vision.

“Peter?” She moans, barely able to open her eyes. “Something seems to be the matter. I cannot stand.”

A hand reaches down and scoops the Duchess up from the ground and onto her feet, a strong arm wrapping around her waist as her body starts to fail again, her head going limp as she stares up towards the night sky.

“Curare,” the man says, scooping her legs into his arm, cradling her as he continues - “Do you know what Curare is, Your Grace?”

She lets out a small moan, her body completely limp in his arms - her weak eyes fixated on the sky.

“Curare is a paralyzing agent, Your Grace. It’s a poison that weakens your skeletal muscles; too much Curare can cause death,” the man says as the Duchess’ eyes finally meet him.

The tall brute that tried to assault her at the Bridgerton Ball months ago stood with her tired body in his arms. The same man that snuck into her room and hid in her wardrobe for hours hoping to rob her of her innocence, hoping for a scandal to get the Duchess to marry.

“Fredrick,” she whispers, barely able to speak at all.

Her heart races realizing she cannot scream for Peter. She cannot run. There is no escape.

A devilish smile spreads across his face, “Curare comes from a plant boiled and strained into bitter paste. How were your special made drinks this evening, Duchess? Could you notice the bitterness, or are you so innocent and sheltered that you do not know what spirits taste like?”

The Duchess’ eyes are filled with hot tears as she whispers, “Why?”

“Simply? I want your riches, and I truly do not care how I attain them at this point - so you shall come with me and I shall leave this ransom note right here on the grass for your fiancé to find later on in the evening when he cannot locate you,” Sir Fredrick says with a smile. “And who knows what could happen to the poor, defenseless Duchess while Lord Parker tries to locate her?”

The Duchess lets out a small, close-mouthed whimper as Sir Fredrick tosses her over his shoulder and tosses the ransom note to the ground and begins to walk away with the Duchess and into the dark night.

“Bridgerton, I simply cannot do another shot,” Peter yells over the string music and the roaring crowd of party guests. His eyes scan around the room before he turns back to Benedict, “One moment, Ben - I must check on my beautiful fiancé.” He holds up a finger and makes his way to the French doors leading towards the stone path to the creek, recalling seeing the Duchess head that way for a breath of fresh air.

Peter crosses the threshold to the cool night air, carding his hands through his greased locks as he surveys the waterline, not seeing his future bride.. but seeing something on the ground in the distance.

He jogs over without hesitation, nearing the cream-colored paper laying on the grass, his fingertips clasping the page reading the penned note demanding money in exchange for the Duchess’ life.

All of the life leaves Peter’s body as his stomach drops, his throat drying immediately, unable to even swallow as he desperately searches the area for any glimpse of his bride - his best friend.

Tears brim in his frightened eyes as he falls to his knees, gripping the earth beneath him as he tries to keep his composure - though hot tears run down his handsome face, dripping onto his suit.

He turns towards the manor, screaming from the very core of his soul, wailing “Benedict! Ant!” He cries - screaming out for the Duchess before something clicks in his head, something he had only felt once before.

Rage.

——————————

Well, dear Reader - what do you think? I’d love to know. What will happen to the Duchess? Will Peter save her in time? Find out in Part Six!

I hope you enjoyed! Sorry for such a long wait!

- <3 Cait

A Lord & A Lady Taglist: @loserbee14 @fk12b @todaywasafairytale07 @bellestalesoffiction @nayspy @splintered-emotions @dark-night-sky-99 @panic-at-space-camp @dxmerons @jeezlouiisee @tenaciousperfectionunknown @strangerdangerwrites @spiidergirlsworld @softyutae @kas-1 @lovelyweepingrebel

TASM tag list: @lendeluxe

Tag List: @rose-writes-shit @xuxialling @itwasallinmyhead1 @mypalbuck @angelcritterz @levylovegood @gwenebear @saltedcoffeescotch @thelittlebirdwriter @mbjackie @kiwi5335 @nikkitc0703 @laurathefahrradsattel @lizabethmenke @cheeseman @blooming-violets @haileymorelikestupid @uwiuwi @themartiansdaughter @florqlness @aphrodites-perfume @andrews-lovr @luvvvjada @liz-allyn @abibliophobiaa

General Tag List: @witheringawayagain

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backtothefanfiction · 11 months

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tasm!Peter x Nurse Reader

You cannot tell me post everything with Gwen when he felt able to date again (when May talks him into it), that Peter Parker wouldn’t end up with a nurse. Someone who knows the pressures of saving lives. Able to patch him up when his wounds are a little too deep and gonna take longer to heal. Someone who also works late nights so wouldn’t be bothered if he was out late on patrol…

Imagine this…

It’s Christmas a couple years after the incident. After completing her training Aunt May now puts in shifts at the hospital. She’s gone out with a few other Nurses for Christmas drinks. Peter comes to collect her as it’s late. That is when he gets introduced to you.

You are politely waiting with May until her Nephew turns up so you have your own peace of mind she will get home safe. From the way she talks about him when you work the ward together, you are expecting some nerdy guy who couldn’t get out of his parents basement, not… well, Peter.

You make polite introductions, May introducing you to each other. “Y/N this is my nephew Peter, Peter this is Y/N they work on the ward with me.”

Peter is enamoured by you immediately. Not only does he find you attractive but you also care for his Aunt and he assumes you provide the same care for your patients.

You part ways, but that won’t be the last time you see each other.

Peter keeps an eye out for you now, whenever he goes to meet May from work. You exchange small talk. He realises you work the late shift often, meaning you’re only just starting as his Aunt is finishing.

He starts spending his nights thinking of you working at the same time he is. Wonders if you’ve ever had to patch up any of the guys he’s ended up sending to the hospital over the years.

It doesn’t take May long to recognise that Peter likes you. “Ask her out already?” “What no?”

He ends up running back inside the hospital to ask you out.

You end up having a coffee date and a walk around Central Park. Conversation is easy and Peter is starting to think Gwen may have sent you to him from the great beyond because all of this felt so easy, it had to be fate.

You’ve been dating a couple months when he shows up on your doorstep with a massive gash in the side of his arm. He’d managed to get caught around a metal cable and the wound was too deep for him to heal without a little help but he knew he couldn’t just walk into the nearest hospital.

You patched him up, minimal questions asked, until you woke up next to him the following morning and his arm was almost healed. He had to come clean.

You were accepting at first. You had always admired Spider-Man and how he helped the people of the city. Protected them from the big bads and the little ones. But when Peter starts getting too comfortable around you and showing up with one too many careless injuries you start to become more and more guarded.

You find yourself checking the news app on your phone way too often. You walk into patients rooms when the news is on to watch and make sure he’s being safe.

When he comes home with 3 bullet wounds for you to patch up, one of the bullets still in his body, you realise enough is enough. “I can’t do this any more Peter.” It’s the hardest things you’ve had to do. You promise to keep his secret but dating him is too hard and for your own sanity you need to go your separate ways.

Peter reluctantly agrees to your wishes but it kills him inside. He realises he got to comfortable. Too attached to this idea you were his angel sent by Gwen that you’d put up with anything and always be there. When you’re not, Peter struggles.

He goes out looking for more fights to punish himself. Looking for bigger bads to battle hoping the victories and admiration from the crowds will fill the void inside him.

That is until he comes up against the biggest bad and his most challenging fight yet. And somehow there you are. As if by magic. As if you really are sent by Gwen, placed in the right place at the right time.

He’s so broken, on the verge of death. The bad guy got away while he lay broken in the street. Crowds gather around him. Their beloved Spider-Man is bleeding out and practically dying on the street in front of them and they have no idea what to do.

You had seen everything. It was awful. All you could do was watch on helplessly as if Peter was a dogs play thing. The man, or was it a creature, picked him up like he weighed nothing and threw his body down the street. The roof of a car caved in with the force of it as he landed on top of it, the windows crushed with the force.

Peter had managed to roll himself off the car but he staggered and stumbled, his arm wrapped protectively around his side as he stumbled down a side street. You saw the crowd begin to gather around him as you raced down the street to get to him.

You pushed your way through bodies to get to his unconscious body. You give him a quick check over as you fall to your knees. “Give them some space” you hear someone call out, ushering the crowd back a bit as you realise you’re gonna need to do CPR. You begin doing chest compressions, your hands folding over the spider emblem now torn across his chest. “Come on Pete.” You mumble as you push down, your head counting out the beats on autopilot as your training took over. You lift his mask just enough to reveal his mouth and nose as you begin to give him mouth to mouth. You don’t even know how long you keep doing that, back and forth between the two when he suddenly takes a deep breath in.

The crowd cheers around you but you are only focused on one another. And just like that it’s like the last few weeks of your break up never happened.

After resting in your bed a couple days, Peter is better equipped and healed enough to finish what he started. After that he promises to stick solely to friendly neighbourhood stuff as much as possible. And he’s good to his word for the most part.

You fall into a good routine together. When you work nights, he goes on patrol. On your nights off, you both stay in watching movies in your small apartment whilst eating ice cream and pizza.

A year later Peter is asking for Aunt May’s ring to ask you to marry him. It’s a simple engagement story. He swung you both up to the top of the Empire State Building and did the Spider-Man equivalent of getting down on one knee. He slowly lowered himself down upside down with the ring in hand before you. He’d barely gotten the words out before you were crying and shouting “Yes, Yes, YES!”

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm!peter imagine #the amazing Spider-Man #Peter Parker x nurse reader #andrew!peter imagine #andrew garfield peter parker #andrew!peter parker #mcu #andrew garfield!peter parker imagine #Spider-Man #tasm!peter x nurse!reader #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm!peter x reader

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tarzinnia · 11 months

Text

Surface Tension

This is for @littlewhispersofsolitude OTP Prompt: Kisses

"Kissing each other as tears well in their eyes because they're not sure if/when they'll see each other again. Wrapping their arms around each other, pulling them closer to feel every bit of them in case it's the last time they get to."

A/N: I hope I credited the prompt properly. Please correct me if I need to change how I did that.

Pairing: Peter Parker x OC or Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: Angst maybe?

She was sitting on a small blue blanket near a tree; it wasn't their tree since this was Central Park. Their tree, where they usually shared lunch, was in a park in Queens, much closer to each of their apartments but she had asked to meet him here, near her office. She said she needed to finish this project before she left tomorrow but he knew it was to keep the moment impersonal somehow. Easier.

As if anything was easy.

As if anything was.

As if anything.

As if.

He didn't approach her. Not yet.

She hadn't started searching for him amongst the people dotted here and there like a painting by Seurat. People walking, lounging on the grass, tossing a frisbee.

She was motionless, however, her face turned slightly away. His eyes followed her gaze to a brown-haired young man and a slender woman each holding the hand of a small boy between them, lifting the child up every so often and swinging him, his bare arms taut while his little legs bicycled through the air.

He didn't care to examine the emotion that descended from his throat and twisted somewhere in the vicinity of his heart at the vignette displayed on the grassy lawn. Him watching her watching them. What could be. Whatever there is. Whatever...

As if.

Her raised arm indicated she had spotted him and he strolled over to the tree that wasn't theirs.

"Hi."

"Hi." She was smiling at him but her eyes were not. The word inscrutable came to mind but he didn't normally use fancy words like that.

"I bought sandwiches, I hope that's okay?" She gestured at the paper sack from a deli near her workplace and pulled two water bottles from her ever present tote with I read banned books emblazoned on the side. He gave her that tote last October, when they sat under their tree, its bare arms reaching up. Reaching out. As if.

He didn't want to sit near this tree. He didn't want to sit and catch the scent of her perfume. To sit and watch her delicate fingers brush her hair from her eyes as the breeze blew wisps about her face. To sit and see her wistful smile as she watched him eat. Reaching out with her fingers to brush a crumb off his cheek. As if.

They ate in silence. The words were knotted in the tangles and twists of a timeline that began at their tree and ended at the tree that wasn't theirs. They sat together, watching as the couple with the little boy tossed a kite in the air. Watching as it danced clear of the open arms of nearby trees, reaching for the sky. As if.

Him watching her watching them. Until she caught his eye and cleared her throat, and began to gather their empty wrappers and napkins, sweeping them into the tote. Inscrutable, he thought.

His hand closed around the pink bottle in his pocket and he slowly withdrew his hand, turning away slightly so she couldn't see as he set the bottle on the blanket and twisted off the lid. Two wands. After the very first time at their tree he added the second one just for her.

He turned toward her, drawing a wand out and lifting it to his lips so that the bubbles came around them like a cloud. Floating towards her, floating into open arms reaching towards his, floating towards the sky. As if.

"Peter." Her voice caught on his name. Her arms wrapping around him, holding him tightly while the bubbles floated around them and above them and vanished one by one.

She kissed him as if afraid the memories would vanish like bubbles. She kissed him as if their arms would forever be empty, she kissed him as if it were the easiest thing in the world to love him.

She kissed him as if she would never see him again.

As if.

"I'm coming back, Peter. I love you. You know that. I promise I'm coming back."

He looked at her face, no longer inscrutable; reaching out with love.

As if it were a kite, his heart lifted toward the sky. As if.

END

#peter parker #tasm #the amazing spider-man #peter parker fanfiction #OTP prompt #fanfiction #tasm fanfiction #peter parker angst #andrew garfield!peter parker imagine #tasm peter parker #Peter Parker x reader #tasm!peter #andrew garfield #spider-man #OTP kisses

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eulalielatibule · 9 months

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I should clarify too that by next WIP, I mean next WIP that is my main focus, because I have a ton of WIPs rn 😂

#wanda maximoff x reader #curtis everett x reader #lloyd hansen x reader #stucky #stucky fluff #andrew garfield!peter parker imagine

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parkerpeter24 · 1 year

Text

bloody love . part 3

pairing ➳ peter parker x reader

warnings ➳ hanahaki!au, unrequited love, slightly happy ending, mentions of blood, read at your own discretion.

w.c. ➳ 2.4k

summary ➳ who said love couldn’t kill?

i mean who saw this coming. but i hope you enjoy because writing hanahaki!au has been my oldest wish and here we are 🥰

part 1 | part 2 | part 4

you were there everyday.

peter saw you every day, sitting on your fire escape, your face in the palms of your hands, looking up at the starts. even though you could barely see any with the amount of pollution in the city during winters.

two months had passed since peter talked to you. really talked to you. he saw you every day in the hallways of the hell everyone called school and every night on your fire escape.

you were so close to him, yet so far as he watched you, sure to stay out of your line of sight. the superhero assured himself that it wasn’t stalking if he was on his patrol and happened to stop by a building that happened to be near your apartment building.

peter remembered the day he landed on the same place your elbows rested now, and looked for you in the dark room and he wished, every night, that he could undo whatever it was that led to this situation. or maybe he’d convince you to talk to him about your feelings as soon as he found out about the disease. or he could express his own feeling which he’d kept dismissing as a ‘silly schoolboy crush’ everytime.

he would just about do anything to get you back.

but he couldn’t think of a way. not for the past two months. not since the day you walked out on him. and as he watched you recede to your room at 09:45, just the same time as every day, he thought maybe he deserved this after all and a feeling of familiar pain took over the brunette’s lungs as he took off.

it was a good thing that ned was talking to him. because gwen wasn’t. he didn’t really expect her to after he’d ghosted her for about as long as he’d known you had feelings for him.

but ned was there. he kept trying to stay in touch even after five weeks of his friend ignoring him like the plague. peter was just grieving and forever grateful that ned understood that.

“the empire strikes back? or return of the jedi? i’m in a star wars mood today.” ned stated as he picked up the two tapes in each of his hands. saturday night was a movie night. ned had invited peter and another girl from his art class, michelle, over. peter didn’t really know her well and she didn’t seem too interested in conversation.

“when are you not in a star wars mood?” mj rolled her eyes, however a little smile played over her lips, as she skimmed through the pages of her book.

“maybe you should decide then.” ned suggested.

“fractured.” mj said within a second, shrugging her shoulders, “it’s a good one. quite underrated.”

ned seemed to think for a moment before he looked at peter, “what do you say, man?”

“i don’t mind.” peter said, giving his friend a pursed smile.

ned nodded and started the movie. as the opening credits rolled in, mj looked at ned and mouthed, “what’s his deal?”

“it’s complicated.” ned mouthed back.

peter rolled his eyes, hearing the two of them whisper around behind his back. however, he couldn’t fight what ned had said. it was complicated. and he didn’t want it to be.

and so peter decided that it was enough.

that night, on his daily patrol, he stopped by the same old building facing your apartment but this time instead of waiting for you to walk out of your window, he swung over and before he knew his fist was against your window, knocking at the glass gently until he saw a figure behind the curtains.

your figure.

you pulled the curtains apart, revealing your face and for a moment peter felt all air knocked out of his lungs. he hasn’t seen you this close since… *that* day.

“peter?” hearing your voice pulled him out of the trance he’d suddenly entered, “um, what are you doing here?”

peter remained silent as the mechanical eyes on his suit grew wider by a fraction. he had decided that he needed to fix this mess. but how; he didn’t bother to think about that. peter didn’t usually feel this nervous when he was covered top to bottom in his spandex suit but now he could feel his ragged breath against his mask.

“okay…” you stood there awkwardly, knowing peter was struggling to say something. you didn’t know why he was here but you weren’t gonna help him right now, “i don’t know what to say if you’re not gonna talk.” you gave him a pursed smile.

“i- uh. i-i want to talk.” peter laid out.

“oh, about what?”

“how’s school?” peter asked as if the past two months didn’t exist at all.

“it’s fine…” you trailed off, “boring.”

“right. i-i didn’t see you in ages.”

“i’m right here.” you nodded at him.

“nice.” peter was trying to stall the conversation but he’d run out of things to say, “listen, can we talk about…” he racked his brain to find something. *anything*

“about?”

“about you? i miss you.” peter sighed, watching your eyebrows furrow at his claim. did you not want him to miss me? did he just make a mess of the earlier mess that he was trying to solve?

he watched your fingers grip the curtains tighter, just about ready to shut it on his face, “pete, i think you should-”

“n-no, no, no. no. please. i didn’t mean that!” peter said, instantly realizing how it might have sounded, “wait, i do mean that. um, do you want me to? mean that?”

you found his nervousness adorable. it was probably easy for peter to think that it meant nothing to you but he didn’t know how easy it would be for him to crawl right back into your heart.

and that’s why you needed to stop this.

“don’t come to my balcony.” peter’s heart dropped to the pit of his stomach hearing you say those words next. you weren’t even meeting his eyes as you added, “please.”

may could tell her nephew was going through a hard time. she saw him sulk around the apartment every weekend and this time around wasn’t any different. she watched him swirl around the last bits of his cereal, deep in thought, “got any plans for the weekend?”

“not really.” her nephew replied.

“what about gwen, maybe you can invite her over for dinner!” may smiled, hoping to lighten the mood.

“that was months ago.” peter stated simply, “i don’t think she’d be interested.”

“then how about we go out for dinner?”

“i appreciate you doing this for me, may, i really do but i-” he sighed, not knowing how to refuse the offer, “i’m sorry, i can’t.”

may hated to see her nephew like this. she’d always tried for him to be comfortable around her. enough to share something that was bothering him this much “just tell me what’s wrong, son.”

“well, i-it’s a long story.”

she gave him an assuring smile, “i’ve got nowhere to be.”

so he told her. he told her everything from the day he found you in your room, to the day you ran away to hide in the bathroom, to the day you left him ‘for the better’.

he just left out the detail where he was going through the same problem now.

however, he did feel lighter after sharing everything with his aunt. she tried to help by suggesting him ideas to sort the situation out between the two of you. the situation was a little too complicated. peter hated that word

the next day, as you were pulling out your physics book from your locker, you saw him approaching you again, “hey.” peter said, waving at you.

you raised your eyebrows at him, “hi?”

“walk to class with me?” he asked, hoping you’d say yes. the two of you shared ap physics so what could be the loss in walking together.

you nodded and started walking so suddenly that peter had to take a quick run to catch up to you, “look, i know we left some things unfigured and-”

“i don’t think this is the right time to talk about that.” you stated, looking straight ahead of you.

“okay. then tell me when will be the right time?” he persisted.

you sighed, finally looking at him, “peter, i told you to-”

“you told me to not come to your balcony. i’m not on your balcony.” your eyes met for a second and peter held them with so much intensity you had to look away.

you hesitated for a moment, “the fire escape. same time as yesterday.”

peter blinked, not believing you were actually ready to talk to him, “are you sure?”

“do not push it.” you shook your head at him and he knew better. so he stood there, watching you leave for a class you two shared.

he hoped tonight would make things better between the two of you.

it had become a habit for peter to land on the building in front of yours instead of directly swinging to your fire escape. he made a mental note to stop doing that.

he knocked at your window, second night in a row. you were pulling apart the curtains again and this time, you got out to the fire escape. peter jumped down from the railing and beside you.

“so?” you initiated, “what is it that you wanna talk about?”

“about you. how have you been?”

“better.” you stated, giving him a little smile, “you?”

“i’m okay.”

“for the record, i missed you too.”

“o-oh.” peter felt his cheeks warm against the material of his mask. the air was gradually turning chilly. the city was on the brink of december but it was somehow still warm. or maybe that was just peter because the next moment he found you shivering as a gust of wind passed by, rubbing your hands together, “you okay?”

you nodded, “a little cold.”

you watched as he shifted a little closer to you, your faces inches apart. you could see all the intricate designs that held his suit together, resisting yourself to reach up and trace along the web-like design, “i-it’s got an in-built heater.”

the two of you stayed in silence, you staring up at the sky like you did every day and peter couldn’t resist but say because he finally had the chance to, “you can’t even see anything up there.”

“you can actually! you just need to focus more.” you turned to face him, catching him already looking at you. you averted your gaze back to the stars quickly.

“look, there’s ursa major.” he pointed out.

“yeah! cool, right?”

“it’s actually pretty hot.” peter said, realizing you didn’t get his joke when you gave him a confused look, “well, because it’s a star and stars are… hot.” he chuckled awkwardly.

“that was a terrible joke.” you deadpanned before letting out a laugh.

“come on, you know you liked it.” peter grinned.

“absolutely not!” you laughed, further proving his point, “however it did remind me, do you want some hot chocolate?”

the two of you made your way inside through the window. peter pulled off his mask finally and you took in his appearance. his cheeks were slightly red, probably due to the cold, hair ruffled as he shook his head to let a few strands out of his face. he’d really let his hair grow out. you avoided eye contact once he caught you staring, “i’ll go get it.”

peter looked around the room. you had done some redecorating. a few of your pictures with him were missing– in fact only one picture of you two together remained on your wall and it wasn’t even the two of you it was a group photo from back when your class went on a field trip– which was a little unsettling to peter but right now, talking to you was a big enough step so he pushed all the other worries to the back of his head.

the sound of two voices arguing pulled peter out of his thoughts. the voices belonged to you and your mother, he figured, and found you two talking about him?

he heard your mom’s voice loud and clear, “then why the two mugs?”

“because i was craving two hot chocolates.” you reasoned.

“y/n. come on! the past month has been so much progress. there were no flowers, not even once!”

before peter could register whatever was happening, you rushed inside the room, slamming the door with the help of your foot as you placed the aforementioned mugs on your study table.

“you need to hide in the closet.” you hurried, pushing peter a bit towards the closet door.

“what? y/n, i’m not in the closet anymore, you know i’m bi-”

“this is not the time to make jokes, please! just hide!” you whisper yelled.

peter placed his palms on either side of your face, sensing your heart palpitating. he caressed your cheeks, way too calm as your mom knocked at your door, “hey, hey, calm down.” he took a deep breath, compelling you to do the same, “i’ll leave now, don’t worry. see you tomorrow.”

he gave you a smile, quickly making his way over to your window and stepped outside before closing the curtains just the way you kept it, while you opened the door to your room, letting your very frustrated mom inside, “where is he?”

“where is what?” you tried to act casually, “i told you i just can’t have enough of hot chocolate.”

“y/n y/l/n. where is he?” she demanded yet again.

you sighed in defeat, finding a sudden interest in the wooden floor, “he left.”

it was her turn to let out a sigh. you could tell she was disappointed because any time she wanted to express that, she addressed you by your whole name, “miss y/n y/l/n, do you know why i’d let you opt out of surgery?”

“because i wanted to?” you offered, giving her a meek smile.

“no. because you were starting to get better. you were maintaining your distance from him and you were healing.” your mother said.

if peter was anything akin to confused before, he was perplexed now. unbeknownst to the two of you, he’d listened to everything that was going on inside. the dots were connecting themselves but peter seemed to be refusing the possibility that it was all true.

you never got a surgery?

peter felt something in his chest but this feeling was different than what he’d experienced for the past two months. he felt an unprecedented warmth spread throughout his lungs.

like hope. like everything would eventually be okay.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

taglist | masterlist ✨

taglist : @the-girl-in-the-chair @annathesillyfriend @uwiuwi @spideyspeaches @prancerrparkerr @usergarfields @theglitterymess @quaksonhehe @lowkey-holland @starlight-starks @piscesparker @incorrectsourwolf @wildxwidow @annab-nana @blankspaceblankday @kelieah @arvinsvintage @faultlinegracie @icarusafety @raajali3 @tommyfroggie @saturnpeter @ellabellabus07 @comfort-reads @holland-styles @1-800-starkindustrie @feariteriu @wittlewowa @20forty9 @skepticalleo

#peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker #peter parker angst #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter fluff #tasm!peter fic #tasm!peter parker fanfiction #tasm!peter imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fluff #peter parker series #spider man #andrew garfield!peter parker x reader #andrew garfield!peter parker imagine #andrew garfield!peter parker x you

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