#( ;Vᴇʀsᴇ : Iɴsᴏᴍɴɪᴀᴄ ) || “ Nᴇᴡ Sᴜɪᴛ Sᴀᴍᴇ Oʟᴅ Mᴇ ”

[underude]

@inhcritance liked for pain ( probably )

" . . . oh, god. "

where does he even start ??? the swirl of emotion in his chest is hard to decipher. first and foremost , relief. second , to see his best friend's face on the front of an article rather than in person feels strange. so it begins : jameson's strategic take down of Oscorp and its subsidiaries began ages ago. this past week only made things that much worse.

' OSBORN HEIR FOUND ALIVE '

the title read plain to your average reader. it was the subtext that brought his heart to his throat. he was released the night before. more importantly : Harry had been seen awake.

does he call ? no. he's surely got a lot on his hands.

maybe a text would work. something Harry could tackle at his own pace. he settles , opens the app and starts typing . . .

and then he stops. starts again . . . delete , delete , delete . . .

" fuck. " he has to do something. ultimately Pete lands on a safe , likely lame choice.

' hey, bud. if there's anything i can do, call me. i'll be around. '

his thumb still hovers over the 'send' arrow for a full four minutes too long . . . before eventually it's sent off with a fated, anxious press of the screen.

[underude]

“ hey , listen . . . it is freezing out. do we have any soup ? i can stop on the way in if we don’t . . .  i can’t feel my toes . . . ”

@spinxeret​ requested something small.

[underude]

@redhead-reporter​ asked: [ 𝐇𝐔𝐌 ] ― sender hums a lullaby to lull receiver to sleep

a long night, as most of them were. he’s certainly bruised, certainly sore . . . typically , that’d be the end of it. when he did get home , it was nearer the crack of dawn than a proper ‘ bedtime ’. direct translation : she was normally asleep. it’s why the shift of her weight on the mattress gives him pause.

frozen while she turns to face him ,  only to melt in the warmth of her when he’s laid flat , her arms wrapped loosely around his neck. not the first time she’s tried to wake up for him. she knows him , understands what ‘work’ entails. there are times he worries that she attempts to shoulder it for his sake. she’s his rock , she would be till the end of time. which is exactly why he plants a kiss to her forehead. “ it’s late , Red . . . go back to sleep . . . ”

she doesn’t need to take care of him. and yet , she tries it. every single time. it’s so soft , the effort fighting not to be masked behind the sleep she’d just stirred from. the rumble of her throat . . . it makes him snicker.

“ . . . what song’s that , baby ? ” , she’s so sweet to him he could cry.

[underude]

@redhead-reporter​ asked: [ 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐇 ]: ― sender helps clean receiver after a long day / stressful situation

     there really isn’t a word for this: this culmination of physical , emotional , psychological agony just isn’t normal. then again, nothing in Parker’s life is. there’s not been a day of his entire life since the bite eight years ago that was ‘ standard ’. he didn’t get days off , dates were a thing of the far distant past , down to the very concept of a full night’s sleep, all gone.

     but it was fine , right? after all, these ‘ traits ’ of the job had become normal. he’s used to the loneliness , the dark circles , the exhaustion. if there had been a job description , all of this would’ve been down in the very fine print. yet this night was different.

     he’s fought for his life , other people’s safety , he’s loved and lost . . . but it’s never piled on like this. he’s been taken to the brink and , in some cases , made to dangle.

     Otto had been the one to finally shove him from the ledge.

     something gave , something broke and the wave of what that shattering invoked stung in his veins. for a few brief moments he was back in the body of that fifteen year old boy. the fierce bubbling of lost frustration with nowhere to go , the denial that this was happening . . . that he had let it happen.

     he was back with Ben.           he was back looking over a sick May.

     everything after that realization blurred together : how he’d left ‘ Doctor Octopus ’ in a heap , how he soared back to the shelter. their final ‘ lesson ’ that rang more like review. it would’ve been too much for the strongest people. for the rest of tonight , that simply wasn’t Peter Parker. it’s why he appeared at her window. wordlessly , without a call , not a text , no smoke signal. he didn’t have the strength to be mindful of their ‘ situationship ’.

          Mary Jane was all he had left.

     the moment at least felt like she understood that. they didn’t have to talk. the first time he feels again is when her fingers held his face. the warmth of her embrace . . . now it’s the heat of the water , the cleanse of the steam rolling over his skin. in time , the ache of his muscles , even the pressure of his knees against the tile becomes secondary to the raking of her digits through his hair. he’s still so numb , but bit by tiny bit the familiar tracing of her touch starts to bring him back. whatever follows tonight doesn’t matter. when he’s this weak , all he can do is try and savor how , despite how complicated they were , she grounds him.

          if it’s somehow only tonight . . . at least he’ll be able to remember.

[underude]

“ hey , hot stuff , come here often ? ”

normally , he’d be pretty uptight about holding her this close to yet another massive explosion. at least this time he knew where to find her. she’d been caught some time ago. the distant pop and rumble of a distant , empty building was the best option. “ . . . you okay ? ”

@redhead-reporter​ wanted small.

[underude]

@redhead-reporter​ asked: “ I thought you were dead ! ”

“ . . . sorry ? ”

     what does he even say? that it wouldn’t happen again ? can’t do that. not with this job, anyway. that’s awful to admit, but he committed to being honest. a lot of the time that meant he just. . . didn’t say anything. haha. . .  that’s exactly why they’re here now.  everything comes flooding back as his consciousness returns.  Electro, police, some crazy accusations. a gunshot.  he fell pretty far, and really, that had done most of the damage.  he’d wrapped around a concrete pillar on impact.  some construction site, one of Wilson’s no doubt.

     he managed to sit up about the time he heard her voice, or more specifically, how terrified she sounded. his name rang his ears and brought life behind the lenses. he rolled, backpack sliding and his open zipper allowing the textbook that caught the bullet tumbled onto the foundation below. “ I’m . . . fine . . . just gotta . . .  find my . . . lungs. ”

[underude]

“ . . .  so. what’s your story ? you just really like Romero movies? was Romero even a person in your universe ? can’t really assume much . . . maybe not Romero , you could be a Warm Bodies kinda fan . . . ooo - what about Young Frankenstein ? . . . ”

@spiderz0mbie​ wanted something tiny.

[underude]

☛ - press a finger to my muse’s lips to shut them up 8)

gentle... || accepting!

          he hates that she has such hold over him, even after all this time. sure enough, his body goes stiff and his words stop midair. Pete only wanted to talk to her about her plans from then on.

          ‘ If i’m gonna be stuck chasing you-- ’, was what he’d managed. She couldn’t see it, but perhaps she could imagine his eyes blinking, or his brain scrambling to reboot.

[underude]

“I thought they killed you.” (from Mary Jane, any verse you'd like :D)

     “ Don’t get me wrong ... they tried ... they tried really hard. ”

          There was a huge weight of guilt on his chest. ‘Spider-Man’ sat in her window, bruised and bloodied. His cheek stung, and he was certain it was because of the gash he’d yet to lay eyes on. The muscles in his shoulders felt as though they’d rip the skin, and his ribs ached as he crawled through. “ Sorry, I-- ow ... I didn’t know... Where else to go... ”

[underude]

“I had it under control.”

          “ I know you did. You always do. It’s so frustrating. ”

               That statement didn’t make a whole lot of sense, as that was Peter’s job. As the hero, he was meant to have it all under control. Yet it was Mary Jane who always seemed to have her head on straight. While he was busy flipping around and getting lost in the chaos, she managed to tackle her own conflict with an air of grace Peter couldn’t hope to match.

          “ ... Give me something to do. Jeez. ”

[underude]

💏

random kiss meme thing || here

…in a rush of adrenaline.

          everything moved a touch too fast. something’d blown up, people’d been thrown around, including the pair. Peter somehow managed to pull everyone just far enough away to safety. his heart throbbed, and felt as though it’d soon enough leap out of his chest. his lungs burned, and his muscles felt strained to the point they might tear.

         none of that stopped him from hurriedly pulling Mary Jane into his arm, and swinging to the nearest rooftop. even if his adrenaline made his head spin, he couldn’t reveal himself to the public. his lips slam into her’s a touch too hard, and in retrospect, he would feel bad. there’s no doubt she’d be just a tiny bit bruised. 

[underude]

          “ you know, I always thought black looked best on us. so what’s the deal, here? i’m diggin’ the sleek, stealth look.  you trying to track down cat burglars, or ... ? ”

@corruptedspider

[underude]

“ i did… what i had to do… ”

          “ Harry... ”

     His voice shatters, like the bones in his hands. The words catch in his throat, and his sight fogs. He blinks it away, as best he could. There was only so much to do now. Black ‘sludge’ rests, outstretched from the epicenter that was Harry’s body. This experiment enabled everything. He was fixed. Harry’d gotten better. The fragile man that Peter hadn’t been allowed to witness vanished. In his place literally stood a new Osborn.

     Just as quickly as he appeared, this thing ripped him away.

          Agitation, brutality, everything that, to Peter’s memory, wasn’t Harry. His trip to ‘Europe’ changed him, and it took weeks to realize why. This parasite; the ‘symbiote’, had done this.

          Or maybe, that was just the man’s way of rationalizing beating his friend down. The sound would haunt his dreams for the rest of his days... The crunch of his own friend’s bones, the hissing of the monster he’d been forced to become. Worst of all, the squealing of Harry’s own voice, once he broke through at last.

          It worked.                    Together, the childhood duo forced ‘Venom’ back. They made it retreat, and while Peter’s priority should be how it’s remnants slither into a crack in the concrete, his eyes fall on his friend.

          Finally, his throat is just barely able to relax. He’s, at last, able to choke out;       “ Yeah... Yeah, you did, buddy... ”

[underude]

@spiiderdad needed some twin threads.

     “ mm ... !  that reminds me... i gotta know... Tony’s... Ya know, over on the west side of Chinatown... is it still open? in your dimension? ”

[underude]

@sparkgained​ did the thing.

          “ ... alright. that oughta do it... try it on. ”

[underude]

“Are you alright? You look really pale.”

          “ Hm...? Oh yeah, I’m fine. Probably just a little jumbled from...ya know all the swinging... and fighting... and--... Wait... ”

           “ ... was that a joke, or was I just imagining a mask all these years? ”