#SPIDEY FIC | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

headkiss · 2 years ago

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single thread (pt. 3)

part 1, part 2, part 3

pairing: spiderman!steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: you know steve’s secret, but he has another; he loves you. of course, you love him, too, and things change.

word count: 9.3k

warnings: spiderman!steve au, fluff, smut (thigh riding and a hj), mentions of a car accident (nobody gets hurt), idiots in love!!!!!!

a/n: she’s here!!!! thank u guys so much for ur support on this mini series, i have loved writing it so so much <3 this will be the last long piece, but if you guys have requests for blurbs from this universe, i’d love to have them!!!

/ᐠ(๏‸๏)ᐟ\

You’d never been that great at puzzles, at figuring things out quickly without hints. But for some reason, this was something you’re pretty sure of.

Steve is Spider-man. He’s the one who saved you, who saves people every day, and he keeps it hidden. You understand why he does, and you’d never want to pressure him into telling you something he doesn’t want to, you only wish he knew you were ready to listen. Whenever.

You’re not that strong, but you’d take some of the weight off of his shoulders if you could.

The news plays on your TV now more than ever, as more than just background noise. Your eyes focused on the screen whenever Spider-man is mentioned, analyzing the way he moves, the familiarity of the hand gestures when he speaks, the gentleness when he makes sure someone’s okay.

It isn’t only on the news that you notice things, either. Seeing Steve as often as you’ve grown to, you seem to find more tells constantly. How he can catch a glass before it spills without even looking, the way he’s on edge sometimes, like he can’t focus on one single thing.

You see Steve often, and the clues are there, and he still hasn’t told you about it.

It’s not that you expect him to tell you, or that you’re angry he hasn’t. It’s just been hard to pretend like you don’t know why he’s limping or like you’re still clueless to it all. He’ll tell you on his own time, or maybe he won’t, but you’ll have to be okay with that.

You’ve convinced yourself it’d be best not to tell him you knew. He’s probably stressed out enough, and you didn’t want to add to that if you could avoid it. You’ll be there for him either way, that’s what’s important.

Besides, on top of you figuring out he’s Spider-man, you’ve finally acknowledged the feelings that have been there for a while. The serious ones, the four letter ones. They’ve been on your mind more than anything.

You’re in love with Steve, that’s something you could tell him, in theory, but you can’t bring yourself to. You’d hate to ruin the only real friendship you’ve managed to build since moving.

So, he’s not the only one with secrets after all. He’s Spider-man, you know that he’s Spider-man, and you’re in love with him.

Lately, you’ve actually been thankful for how quiet things have been at work. Your head’s been loud enough. The thoughts of Steve, of trying not to give anything away every time you look at him, of whether he might be going to patrol whenever he leaves.

It’s all-consuming. Pathetic, even.

And it’s what’s on your mind—once again—as you walk home from your morning shift at work. The sun’s out, your eyes squinted when it hits your face. The breeze around you is still chilly, but the promise of spring and warmth is nice.

You glance over to the newsstand you always pass going to and from work, checking the picture on the front page to look for a certain mask. Today, it’s there, and you pause to look at it.

‘Spider-man catches culprit behind string of armed robberies.’

Skimming the article, your heartbeat picks up. The danger this boy puts himself in for the sake of other people. The injuries you’ve seen him come home with. You shake your head and keep walking.

“Mom, look!” A little boy says, urging his mother towards the newsstand. “It’s Spider-man!”

You turn around, a small smile on your face as you see the mother buying her son a copy of the paper. You guess you’re not the only person who can’t keep away from that hero.

Then, there’s a little glow in your chest, the reminder that you’re lucky enough to know the person behind the mask, too.

Steve thinks that telling Robin about you might’ve been a bad idea, because she looks like she might slap him right now.

“You’re telling me you kissed her, then told her it couldn’t happen again, and yet you still have that look on your face when you talk about her?”

Robin makes it sound very simple. To him, it isn’t.

“Well, yeah, but it’s complicated, okay? And I don’t have a look on my face, Robs.”

“You absolutely do, all moony and shit. If I didn’t want you to find someone so badly, I’d say it’s kinda gross.”

Honestly, Steve can’t even tell her she’s wrong. If the way he thinks about you tells him anything, it’s that he probably can’t keep it off his face. At the very least, he hopes that Robin can only tell because she knows him so well, not because it’s insanely obvious.

“Thanks.”

“Steve, I know you like her,” she says, gentler than before, careful not to scare him from the conversation.

I more than like her, he thinks. There’s a better way to describe it and he knows that. He may not admit it, not even to himself, but he knows it all the same.

Robin continues before Steve can reply, “and I know you’re scared, I do, but we both know you’d regret it if you didn’t give this a shot.”

He shakes his head. Somehow, every time he sees Robin, the conversation always leads to this. To you.

“I’d regret it more if I got her hurt.”

“Steve, I’ve known about you since the beginning and look at me. I’m right here, perfectly fine,” she holds her arms out, like it’s some sort of proof that she’s okay. “The worst I’ve done lately is scrape my knee, and that’s just because I’m clumsy, not because I know about you being Spider-man.”

He supposes she’s right, that she has a point here, but it doesn’t stop him from being afraid, from feeling an uncomfortable clench in his chest when he thinks about even the slightest possibility of putting you in danger.

“It’s different with her, though,�� he says.

“Come on! Remember in high school when you had like four different girlfriends in a month?”

“That’s an exaggeration.”

“Well, still. Where’s that part of you gone?”

“Um…”

“Shut up, I mean the part that was open to that. To trying to make connections.”

“Maybe the venom from the spider made it disappear.”

She huffs and sinks into the couch cushions. Steve’s always been stubborn, quick to deflect with humor or sarcasm when things get too intense. Too much.

Robin’s a good friend, the best one, and she can see him closing up, so she changes her approach.

“I just want you to be happy, you know?”

“Yeah, Robs, I know.”

“Can you just think about it?”

“About what?”

“Asking her out, telling her how you feel,” Robin lays a hand on Steve’s shoulder, gives it a small squeeze. “Don’t close yourself off to it completely.”

Steve’s hand lands on top of hers, squeezes it back before letting go. He may not have that many people in his life, but having a friend like Robin never makes him feel like he’s missing anything.

At least, he didn’t feel that way until he met you. Now, he thinks about what it’d feel like to fall asleep and wake up with his arms wrapped around you, to be able to kiss you and hold you. To have that intimacy that you can only have when you’re in love with someone.

Fuck. In love.

“Okay. I’ll think about it.”

The good thing about being lost in thought while you walk is that it makes time go by quickly. By the time you’re walking up the stairs to your apartment, you’re not even sure how you got there, your feet having been on autopilot.

Just as you’re fishing out your keys, there’s the sound of a door opening, a pair of voices following. One that’s practically engraved in your head. The other is of a girl, who seems to notice you standing by your door very quickly.

“Oh my gosh! Hi!”

You blink at her a couple of times, because she’s talking to you like she knows you, like you should know her. “Hi…?”

Steve’s leaning a shoulder against his door frame behind her, a scrunch in his brows and a shake of his head. It’s all you catch before she grabs your attention again.

“Sorry! I’m Robin, Steve’s totally, completely plantomic best friend-”

“Oh my god,” he mutters.

“You’re the neighbor,” she continues, saying your name to make sure she’s right, even though she seemed plenty sure of that already. “Steve talks about you all the time.”

“Really?” You can’t help but ask. You try to hide the hopefulness in your voice, the happiness at the idea of him talking about you. All the time.

“Oh, yeah. You have made quite the impact on this guy,” she points towards him with a thumb over her shoulder.

“Robs,” Steve gives her a stare, eyes wide and—if the hint of pink spreading over his cheeks says anything—probably telling her to stop embarrassing him.

“What?” She looks back at him, all innocent.

“Don’t you have to get to work?”

“Okay, okay,” Robin turns towards you again, gives you a toothy smile that’s wide enough to have you sending her a small grin in return. “It was so nice to finally meet you.”

“You, too,” you say, and though she surprised you with a whole bunch at once, you mean it.

She pulls you into a hug and says to you quietly, “thank you for taking care of him.”

And with that, she walks away, retreating down the hall. Steve hears her, Robin knows that. Hell, she probably wanted him to.

He scratches at the back of his neck (that habit of his) and huffs, “I’m sorry about her. She can be sort of a lot.”

“Don’t be,” you shake your head. “She seems great.”

“You’d like her, I think. If you got to know her.”

He still seems nervous, like you and Robin meeting was a really big thing for him. And it is. The two most important people in his life meeting. Of course he’d want that to go well.

“Steve, you don’t need to worry, or anything. I already like her, okay?”

Anyone who seems to make Steve happier is bound to win some points with you. He deserves friends like that, especially with everything he has to carry.

“Okay, yeah. That’s good.”

He still seems nervous, so you step over and place your hand on his arm, giving him the lightest squeeze. He probably wouldn’t have felt it if it weren’t for how focused he is on you.

“I was just surprised, that’s all. Promise.”

Steve’s hand finds yours, intertwining your fingers gently, as if he doesn’t even know he’s doing it.

“Thank you,” he speaks quietly. Two words he tries to tell you as often as he can.

Steve’s been visiting you at work often, sometimes with food, always with enough to brighten your day. Getting to spend that extra time with him is another perk of working when it’s not busy.

Today, he’s decided to surprise you rather than give you a heads-up over the phone. There’s a takeout bag clutched in his hand, and a little ball of nerves in his stomach. He shouldn’t be nervous, it’s only you. Then again, it’s you.

He opens the bookstore door, the small bell above it jingling. For once, there’s a customer at the register. You glance over at Steve from behind the counter, wiggling your hand in a quick wave before helping your customer again.

And just like that, there’s that feeling in his chest.

Steve waits by one of the displays as you finish up, trying not to make it obvious that he’s looking at you. There’s the soft smile on your face, the tone of your voice, the way the lighting hits your skin. It all has his heart going quicker.

“Hi, Steve,” you greet him once the customer leaves. “I didn’t know you were coming today.”

“Hi, honey. Kinda the point of surprising you with food.”

“Well, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Hopefully I picked something you like.”

From the packaging he’s seen before in your apartment, he’s pretty sure he did alright, but he waits for your confirmation all the same.

You open the bag he’d set on the counter, a small happy gasp that he likes way too much leaving your mouth, “yay! How’d you know I liked this place?”

He shrugs, “lucky guess.”

There’s a second stool behind the counter, and you pull it up for Steve without a word, patting the seat for him to sit down. He does, consumed by the brush of your arms as you unpack the food, the touch of your knees when you shift in your seat.

“Thanks again, Steve.”

“You already know I owe you for all the meals you’ve made me.”

“And you already know, you don’t owe me anything.”

You’re a kind person, Steve’s known that since he met you. So much so that you don’t even see the value in what you’ve done for him, like it’s the simplest thing for you. It’s the simplest thing to help him.

It makes him want to do things he said he wouldn’t. Things like kiss you.

“Anyway,” he shakes the thought away. “How’s your day been?”

You lift a shoulder as you finish your bite of food before replying, “been okay. I’ve had a couple more people come in than usual, which is good.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean, I love the quiet in here, love getting to just read behind the counter and call it work. But, it’s also nice to feel useful at least some of the time.”

“That’s good. What’ve you been reading?”

This is a question he loves to ask you, because you get excited to respond every time. He loves to watch you grab the book and show it to him, to see your hands flick through the pages as you tell him what it’s about, to watch the way your mouth forms the words you speak.

He loves to ask you, because he loves to listen to your voice when you answer. That word’s been in his head a lot lately. Love.

So much that he’s not sure it ever really leaves. It’s a lingering whisper, growing louder when he’s with you. Even after you eat, after the food’s been cleaned, as he walks out the door, the word stays.

“Bye, Steve, see you later!” You say as he reaches for the door handle.

He lets himself look at you again before leaving, his eyes lingering for a second too long. “Bye, honey.”

The bell above the door rings again as he leaves, but it isn’t loud enough to cover what’s rushing through Steve’s mind. I love her. I shouldn’t, I can't. I love her.

God, maybe he should talk to Robin again, he thinks. Or, maybe he could avoid the lecture he’s bound to get and take his mind off things the best way he can: putting on the suit.

Turns out that even when he should be focused on patrolling, his mind still likes to wander. That’s probably why he ends up stationed atop the building across from the bookstore, where your closing shift should be ending soon.

He ends up there most nights he knows you’re closing, really.

Before, when he couldn’t even let himself think about his feelings for you, he’d tell himself he stayed near the bookstore because it was a shadier area, more alleyways and all that. Now, though it sort of scares him, he’s able to acknowledge that it’s purely to make sure you’re safe.

He has a whole city to be protecting, but if his senses aren’t leading him anywhere else, he’ll always end up near you.

It’s sort of ironic. You, subconsciously looking for Spider-man everywhere you go, him being right there, and you don’t even know it. He’s so, so close.

Steve stationed himself across the street from you about twenty minutes before the shop was meant to close. His eyes squinted on his mask to see if there was anyone seemingly dangerous around, just in case.

Sometimes, when he does this, he can’t stop himself from thinking about that night when he found you in that alley. When his ears were filled with pure static until he knew you were safe. When he kneeled in front of you and brought you home. He doesn’t want you to go through something like that ever again.

The click of the bookshop door closing behind you has Steve’s heightened hearing turned on, knowing that you’re about to lock up and head home.

You feel like there are eyes on you as you walk. But, every time you look behind you, there’s nobody there. You’re just being paranoid, you tell yourself. You’re fine. And really, you are fine, because the eyes aren’t dangerous—though you don’t know it—they belong to Steve.

He hops across buildings as discreetly as he can while following your pace. Walking you home in his own, secret way.

The next thing happens in a complete blur.

You’re crossing at an intersection when a car runs a red light, speeding and crashing into another vehicle. You’re in the street, the two cars screeching on the pavement and heading straight for you. Even if you ran, you wouldn’t be quick enough.

But he was.

Steve jumped down before it even happened, his vision tunneling on that car, on you in its path. He just knew he needed to get to you first. He shot the web, swung down, and scooped you up right before the collision reached you. His heart pounding, his grip on you tight enough to knock the air from your lungs.

He lands and sets you down at the back of an alley, hidden from the bystanders that screamed at the sight of the crash, at the sight of him.

It takes you an entire minute of silence, of your chest heaving and your ears ringing to grasp what had just happened. How close of a call it was, how he was there to save you again.

Your vision is blurred by tears when you look up at him, at the red and blue suit, the mask. Your breathing is quick, panicked, but it slows the slightest bit when you look at him. Spider-man. Steve. The best boy ever.

When your eyes lock onto his face, Steve rushes forward, holding your face in a gentle grasp. It’s frantic, the way his hands shake when he reaches for you, the way his head tilts all over to make sure you’re okay. His thumbs brush away the tears that fall from your eyes, back and forth and back and forth.

“Hey, look at me,” he says, dipping his head down to make you focus on him. “Breathe.”

You shake your head, trying to calm down the best you can after coming so close. Fuck, it was so close. If Steve would’ve been a split-second later, you would’ve been hit. The thought doesn’t help you calm down one bit.

Steve can see the fear in your eyes, the quick rise and fall of your chest. It clenches his heart in a tight, uncomfortable fist, and all he wants to do is help you. So he lets it slip.

“Breathe, honey. Come on.”

Honey.

That’s all the confirmation you’d ever need. You were right. This is Steve. It’s Steve holding your face and saving your life.

You surge forward and wrap your arms around his neck, and his go around your waist instantly.

“Steve,” you breathe out so quietly, only he could have heard it.

His heart sinks and flips at the same time, if that’s even possible. It sinks because you know, somehow, and it terrifies him so much, he’s not sure what to say. But then, it flips, too, because there’s a relief that’s clear in your voice.

“How did you-” he starts, but you only squeeze him tighter.

“Steve,” this time, your voice breaks when you say it.

Now isn’t the time to talk about this. Not when you were almost hit, not in public. Not now and not like this, Steve knows that. The break in your voice tells him to push that back for now.

“I’m gonna take you home, okay?”

He can feel you nod against his neck, so he lets go of you with one hand and keeps the other wrapped around you and starts swinging.

Right now, at this second, he’s not worried about how you found out, how you know it’s him. No, he only cares that you’re alive, that he can feel your arms squeezing around his neck, that he can squeeze you back just as tight.

As he swings with you clutching onto him, the realization makes his breathing stutter.

You could’ve died just then. In that fraction of a moment, you could’ve been gone without Steve ever getting the chance to tell you he loves you. He can’t let that happen. He’s gotta tell you.

It scares the absolute shit out of him, but he has to do something. He can’t lose you before working up the courage to tell you how he feels, before having the slightest chance at kissing you again.

He won’t let that happen.

Steve’s very gentle with you, even when he’s swinging from building to building with you in his arms. The sure grip he has around your waist and the smell of his cologne buried under the suit help ground you as wind rushes by.

You’re alive, Steve’s got you, and he knows you know.

Your eyes are squeezed shut the entire way, and in only a couple of minutes, he’s hanging onto the side of his building by his window and thanking himself for (once again) not locking it.

“Hey, honey, can you open the window for me?”

You lift your face from his neck and nod, twisting to lift it open. Steve’s supporting you with one arm and holding the both of you up with the other. The strength he has is incredible, especially when you’re seeing it first hand.

He helps you get into his room with a hand on your lower back, and lifts himself in right after you. You watch Steve’s back beneath the suit as he shuts the window, watch his gloved hands remove the web-shooters from his wrists.

Then, slowly, watch those same hands lift up to the edge of his mask and tug it off.

Your breath catches. You knew it was him, but seeing Steve’s familiar face and its prettiest combination of features be revealed is different, it’s real.

“Wow,” you say, though you hadn’t really meant to. It slipped. “Hi.”

Steve’s had a twist in his gut ever since he found out that you knew about him, and it only tangles more now that you’re looking at him with widened eyes. He doesn’t want things to change with you, and he’s so scared that they will.

What if you don’t want to see him anymore because of this? What if you’re angry with him for keeping it from you? What if you end up hurt because someone wanted to get to him?

“Um, hi.”

You step closer to where he stands by his side table, your hands twisting in front of you like you’re nervous, too.

“You saved me.”

“Just, uh, doing my job,” he says, shrugging it off.

“Well, then, you’re really, really great at what you do.”

You’re trying to be light with the subject, to take it at his pace given it’s his secret, his life. Steve’s quiet for a few moments, a flicker of something you can’t distinguish crossing over his face.

“How’d you know?” Is all he says, but you know exactly what he means by it.

“Saw Spider-man with the exact same injuries as you on the news. I guess I just connected the dots from there.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

You reach for his hand and hold it lightly, hoping that maybe, just maybe, your touch can help to ground him as much as his does you.

“Don’t be, okay? I understand why you wouldn’t. I just want to be there for you.”

“I don’t tell anyone, really,” he starts, his grip on your hand tightening as he speaks. “Robin’s the only other person who knows. I don’t want to put anyone in danger so I… I just keep it to myself.”

You squeeze his fingers, trying to show him in any way you can that you aren’t going to run away from this.

“You don’t have to keep it all to yourself, Steve. You can talk to me or knock on my door whenever you’re hurt,” he shakes his head. “You can. I keep my first-aid kit stocked for you.”

“It doesn’t scare you? That you might get hurt because of me?”

“I’m not scared for myself. I’m scared for you. Going out every night and fighting the bad guys. I’m scared that you’ll get hurt, Steve. I’m not worried about me,” he glances down but you step even closer, making him look at you. “If tonight shows anything, it’s that you’ll save me from getting hurt either way.”

Steve’s hand that isn’t holding yours moves up, pushing your hair over your shoulder before landing on your face. The fabric of his glove rests against your jaw, his thumb running over your skin, his eyes searching yours for a single hint of insincerity.

He doesn’t find one.

“You’re really important to me, honey.”

“You’re important to me, too.”

You’re close enough that you can feel his breath on your lips, his forehead a whisper away from yours. Close enough that you catch the way his eyes flick down to your mouth and back up.

“I know I said we shouldn’t-”

“Kiss me, Steve.”

“Okay.”

The hand on your face tilts you upwards, and just like that, he catches your lips with his. You’ve kissed before and still, there’s a rush of butterflies in your stomach, a warmth spreading over your skin the way a blanket of sunlight feels.

It’s slow, it’s delicate, and it means something. There are a thousand words that neither of you can say buried in this kiss, in the gentle press of your lips. Words spoken with the tilt of his head to get closer, the squeeze of his fingers interlocked with yours.

Steve doesn’t ever want to not be able to kiss you again. Not when it feels like this. Acceptance and reassurance, softness and the sort of glowing feeling he’s only ever had around you.

When he pulls away, he doesn’t go far. Your breaths meet between your faces, mingling in the silence that follows. Steve rests his forehead against yours, your noses brushing.

“I don’t want to be alone tonight,” you say. Because you’re still shaken from earlier, because you need the comfort that Steve seems to provide simply by being next to you, because you’re afraid that if you let him out of your sight, he’ll pull away from you again.

“You want me to stay with you?”

You nod. “Please.”

“Okay, honey, I’ll stay.”

As long as you’ll have me, he thinks, I’ll stay.

Steve did stay that night. After you both showered and got ready for bed, there was a moment where he stood—almost nervous—in the doorway of your bedroom. You lifted the covers for him and patted the spot next to you, and that was it.

He stayed for breakfast, too. This time, it was him cooking for you, stood over the stove in your apartment. It’s a sight you could definitely get used to. Then, like he could get any sweeter, he even called into work for you, saying you should at least get a day after what happened the night before. What almost happened.

Really, as scary as the crash had been, what you’d been thinking about the most was the way he kissed you. The way you’d woken up in the middle of the night with his arm around your waist. The way you fell back asleep easily with him there.

It’s what you’ve been thinking about in the days since. What you’re thinking about even now.

You know that something shifted that night, with him finding out that you knew he’s Spider-man, with you being able to reassure him that it won’t push you away. You could feel that shift, like a tectonic plate.

Despite that, things have been quiet and relatively the same with Steve. You haven’t seen him all that much, but when you do it’s still friendly. Friendly with something lingering between you, unspoken and palpable.

It’s dark out now, the evening news playing on your TV the way it so often does. It’s static to you until you see footage of Spider-man from earlier, swinging around and fighting crime again.

Naturally, your first thought is Steve, and whether or not he’s okay. Before, when he didn’t know you knew, you’d keep all this worry to yourself, letting it build and build until you saw him again. Now, though, he knows you know and you can do something about that concern.

You push yourself up from your couch and head to your door. Knocking on his comes easy, and he opens it quickly, like he knew it was you.

“Hi,” he says. There’s a smile pulling at his mouth.

“Hi. Sorry for bothering you, I just- um. I saw the news and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Seeing you on the other side of his door already had Steve’s heart doing this silly flutter in his chest. Knowing you care enough to check on him this way does something else entirely. It floods from head to toe, the feelings he has for you. The ones he’s identified as love.

“I’m okay, promise. Not even a scratch this time.”

You nod, a pressure lifting from your lungs. You breathe a little easier seeing him unharmed. Seeing him in general.

“Okay. Good,” you should probably stop there, turn around and go back to yours, but you don’t. “I was just really worried, y’know, ‘cause I’ve seen you hurt and all, so I just wanted to see you and check-”

“Hey,” he grabs your hand gently, cutting off your rambling and tugging you into his apartment, pushing the door shut behind you. “I swear not every Spider-man thing I do is dangerous.”

“Yeah, okay, because swinging from buildings is super safe.”

“I’m a professional at that. Nothing to worry about.”

The wood of the front door is solid against your back, and Steve’s hand still in yours is the same. Solid, reassuring, sweet. Steve steps just a bit closer to you, so that you’re toe-to-toe and there’s nowhere for you to escape to.

His free hand reaches up to fiddle with the ends of your hair, gentle in a way that almost feels like you dreamt it.

“Did you really only come here to check on me?” He asks.

“Yeah, I did. Is that… okay?”

Steve wants to kiss you for that. He thinks you might want that, too. So, he dips his face closer to yours, lets go of your hand only to hold onto the nape of your neck instead. He hesitates, waits for you to push him away, but you never do.

Instead, you tilt your head and meet him in the middle.

You never knew that kissing someone could be so easy, that you could fit together so well that it just works. But that’s how it is with Steve, and you suppose that’s how it is when you’re in love. The pink haze and heart-shaped touches.

Steve doesn’t think he could ever get sick of kissing you, of feeling so light when things are often so heavy for him. When you pull away, he chases your mouth and steals two, three pecks from you.

Then, to answer your question, he says, “it’s more than okay.”

You only notice now that you aren’t distracted by his mouth on yours that your hands had found their way to his shoulders. It’s impossible not to notice the muscles under his skin, the clear evidence of his strength. Heat spreads through you, and you have to pull your hands away to speak properly.

“You sure?”

“I’m sure,” he tells you. His hand, still on your neck, squeezes so, so lightly. “I know I’ve said that we should only be friends, but that was before. Before you knew, and I was terrified of what could happen to you.”

“What about now?”

“Now…” He takes a deep breath, and focuses his eyes on yours. Whatever he’s about to say, he wants you to know he means it. “Now I can’t stop thinking about you and how it feels to kiss you.”

“I think about you, too.”

“Yeah?”

You nod, and though being honest makes you nervous, the smile that spreads over his face makes it worth it. So does the slight blush of his cheeks.

“I want to take you on a date. If that’s something you’d like.”

“I would really like that, Steve.”

Right then, there’s another shift, a bigger one. You both know there are feelings here. Big, scary feelings that you can’t say out loud yet.

Steve took care of planning the date. He wanted to surprise you, to impress you and do something for you this time. You do enough for him already.

Though Robin assured him—after all of her ‘finally’s and ‘I told you so’s—that it would be great, perfect, even, he’s still nervous when he knocks on your door. He’s shuffling on his feet, puffing out a breath as he waits, and then he sees you and the rest sort of melts away.

You open your door to find Steve with a picnic basket in hand and a slightly windswept bouquet of flowers in the other. You smile as he hands them to you and try to hide it by smelling the flowers.

“Thank you, these are beautiful.”

“‘Course.”

“I’ll just put them in water and then we can go.”

Your stomach is a mess of flutters and nerves as you fill up a vase with water and put the flowers in it. Sure, you’ve spent time with Steve alone time and time again, but never like this. It’s exciting and it’s scary, but the welcome kind of scary that comes with new things.

“You’re taking me on a picnic?” You ask, locking your apartment door behind you and then falling into step next to Steve.

“If that’s okay with you?”

“Sounds amazing.”

“My cooking isn’t as great as yours, I have to warn you,” Steve says, holding the door open to the stairwell.

“I’m sure I’ll love it.”

“It’s okay if you don’t, I’m just saying.”

He holds the door at the bottom of the stairs open for you, too. And then the one to exit the building.

As you walk along, Steve leading the way, your nerves fade, replaced with the familiarity and comfort of Steve’s company. Replaced with the feelings that sweep inside you like a huge bubble of pink bubblegum, so close to popping and spilling it all.

You talk aimlessly about anything and everything, and Steve does the same. You both try not to make the little catch in your breaths obvious when your hands brush.

He takes you to a park, one with big trees and a walking trail, with scattered flowers and the fresh smell of nature that makes you feel like you’re not even in the city anymore. He keeps going, and you keep following him, until he finds the spot he’d found before. A small clearing between trees, shaded by their leaves and just enough space for him to spread out the picnic blanket.

“Why have I never found this place myself?” You ask, looking up at the sky through the leaves.

“You like it?”

You nod, sitting down next to him on the blanket he brought. “Thank you for bringing me.”

He shrugs, “thank you for coming.”

You share a smile, a slow spread across your mouths as you look at each other for a moment. A smile saying this is real. Then, like it didn’t even happen, he starts to unpack the food.

Steve can’t even remember the last date he went on, but he knows that it wasn’t anything like this. He’s never felt this light around someone before. Somehow, you turn the bricks that weigh him down into feathers.

You’d thought it before, but you’re sure of it now; Steve is the absolute best boy you’ve ever known. The effort he put into making and packing up the food, the shyness he has about it all, like he should be embarrassed for being sweet to you. You feel unbelievably lucky that you moved into the apartment across from his.

The date goes by in a blink. You and Steve subconsciously moving closer and closer on the blanket, your thighs touching and your arms brushing. The food eaten between conversation and giggles. The picnic basket is now packed up again, the containers empty this time around.

You rest your head on Steve's shoulder and say, “thank you for this.”

Steve’s eyes close for a second, trying to memorize how this feels. He opens them and presses the gentlest kiss onto your head. “You’re welcome, honey.”

You stay that way and breathe each other in, once, then twice. That’s all you allow yourself before you stand and brush yourself off even though you weren’t dirty in the first place. Steve folds up the blanket and places it in the basket, and he stands, too.

This time, as you walk back to your apartment building, when your hands brush, you and Steve feel just a bit more confident, enough to reach your pinkies out to each other and lock them.

Steve’s the one who fully grabs onto your hand, letting your fingers intertwine. It’s how they’re meant to be, he thinks, two pieces of the same puzzle that just happen to fit together. You don’t let go for the entire walk.

Outside your building, neither of you really want to say goodbye, to end the date that feels like the beginning of something really, really good.

But, just as Steve lets go of your hand to reach for the door, he feels it. The tingling over his skin, the goosebumps, the static in his ears. He blinks and turns to you.

“I’m sorry-”

“Stop, it’s okay. Just be safe.”

He’ll never understand how you’re so understanding, how you accept it so quickly. All he knows is he loves you for it and so much more.

“Thank you, honey.”

He presses the quickest kiss to your cheek, sets down the picnic basket, and then runs into the alleyway on the side of the building. When he emerges, he’s in his suit and swinging off.

He’d been wearing it under his clothes. Always prepared.

You pick up the picnic basket and walk up to your apartment half convinced that the last few hours have been some sort of dream. Too good to be true.

The issue that had Steve’s senses coming alive didn’t take long to handle. Still, he stayed out to continue patrolling, worried that something else could happen. Worried that it might be too soon to go back and see you again.

Not seeing you didn’t erase you from his thoughts. Not one bit. He spent the hours in the suit waiting for the city to die down, waiting for the moment his senses would quiet down enough to let him know he was done for the night.

All because he wanted to see you, kiss you. God, he’s so fucked.

You were faring pretty much the same. Only, you’d changed into your pajamas rather than a superhero suit, laying around on your bed with a book in hand to hear knocks on your door. Or, at the very least, to hear him get home safe.

When the knock comes, it isn’t on your door. Instead, there’s a tapping on your bedroom window by the fire escape. As soon as you hear it, you shut your book and turn towards your window, and there he is.

Steve hangs upside down, his head level with yours when you open the window to talk to him. If you weren’t so busy being in love with him, the sight would be sort of funny.

“Well hello, Spider-man,” you say, leaning your hands against the windowsill.

“Hey, honey.”

“You aren’t hurt are you?” You ask, moving your hands to hold his face, because you’ve seen him injured enough times to be worried about that, to know it’s a possibility.

“I’m completely fine.”

“You’re really okay?”

“Nothing hurts, I promise,” he says, shaking his head. How could it when you’re holding him like that, looking at him like that. Pain isn’t what he’s feeling in the slightest.

You’re not really thinking when you lean in and peck his cheek over the mask, but it’s enough to scorch his skin, to leave an invisible mark.

And Steve isn’t really thinking when he speaks, “have I ever told you that I think you’re really pretty?”

“You’re upside down,” you tell him, fighting a stupid, lovesick smile. “You must be seeing wrong.”

He ignores that comment and twists himself upright, then climbs through your window into your apartment. You have to back up to make room for him, and when his feet hit the hardwood floors, he’s only inches away.

“I’m right side up now. Still think you’re pretty.”

You’ve never been good at taking compliments, never really thought that people meant them, only that they were trying to be kind. Steve is different. You still don’t believe it yourself, but you can tell that he does. His voice holds enough emotion to do that.

Bashful, you walk around him to shut your window and then lock it. You try to keep your feelings off of your face when you turn back around and find him already facing you, his mask now off and clutched in his hand.

His hair is a mess on his head, his cheeks flushed from being upside down and maybe, just maybe from being so close to you.

“So, what brought you to my window?” You ask.

“I wanted to say sorry,” he says, scratching at his neck. That habit of his. “For leaving the way I did earlier.”

It’s a half truth. He wanted to apologize for that. But, mostly, he wanted to tell you he loves you. He’d been thinking about it his whole patrol. Thinking about when the right time would be then remembering how quickly things can change, how you’d almost been hit not so long ago.

With that, he decided that there wasn’t a right time, that he could lose you just like that and he swore to himself that he wouldn’t let that happen. Especially not without telling you how he feels.

But, he’s always been more courageous with that mask on, and now, he just can’t get the words to leave his mouth. They hover on the top of his tongue, sticky and heavy.

“I told you it’s okay, Steve. I swear,” you step closer to him and reach for his hand, tugging the glove off before lacing your fingers with his. “I know that you had to, that this is a part of you and I’d never expect you to change or ignore it. I-“ love you, you almost say. But the words get stuck for you, too. “I care about you so much. Spider-man included.”

Every time Steve worries, even the slightest bit, that you’ll feel differently about him because of this, you prove him wrong. You say all the right things to make him feel better, to make him want to fall into you completely and never look back.

You’ve proven to him over and over that you’re in this, that you’re this dream of a girl that somehow ended up in his mess of a life. A mess you’re willing to join, helping him clean it without even trying.

You’re a dream, his dream, and he has to say it. He has to say it so he does, those sticky words forced off of his tongue in a breath.

“I love you.”

He squeezes your hand on the second word, like he’s emphasizing it. Love.

“I love you,” he says again, and you realize you’re not dreaming. He really said it, and he’s really looking at you that way with those soft, brown eyes. “You don’t have to say it, I just needed to tell you. I’ve never had someone make me feel the way you do. Never.”

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

Your heart pounds, thumps.

“I love you, too.”

“Serious?” He checks, because he thinks he dreamt it just like you had.

So you repeat it for him, “I love you, Steve.”

He leans in, not so afraid anymore, and places a hand on your neck, his fingers in your hair. The other hand squeezes yours again before letting go to frame your jaw and tilt your mouth to his.

It’s an easy rhythm to fall into now. Kissing him. And you feel yourself melt into him, your muscles relaxing, your body pushing towards his. Your arms are thrown around his neck, and all you feel is him.

It’s a delicate push and pull, a kiss that’s familiar but now has something new behind it. That acknowledged emotion, the reality of it. It has his tongue sweeping against the seam of your lips and dipping in when they part.

His hand is tangled tighter in your hair, and you’re not sure how long it’s been before you both pull away, breathless, chests heaving, matching smiles on your lips. Your noses still brush, and still, it doesn’t feel close enough.

Steve’s hands shift to run down your shoulders, then your arms, and back and forth.

“Does this mean I’m your girlfriend?” You ask, still breathing heavy, still feeling his breath fan across your lips.

“I’d like to think so,” he says, his hands now settled around your forearms. “If that’s what you want.”

You nod, kiss him quick. “Does it also mean you’ll stay the night?”

“As long as I can use your shower first,” he says.

“Good idea.”

“You saying I smell?”

You shrug, shoulder to your cheek. He smiles, and in turn, so do you, and it feels like the closest thing to perfect there could ever be.

Steve emerges from your bathroom with damp hair falling over his forehead and your clothes on instead of his suit. You lent him a t-shirt and a baggy pair of sweats that are still a bit too short at his ankles. You grin when you notice that.

And Steve grins when he sees you. My girl, he thinks. And it’s for real this time.

You’re sitting with your back against your headboard, knees bent and your book in your hands yet again. You needed to occupy yourself while he was showering, after all. Otherwise, you’d just think and think and think about him in the next room, his mouth on yours. His voice saying the words ‘I love you.’

He walks over and sits on the bed by your feet, his side facing you, but his head turned to look at you. Seeing him in your clothes, in your space, you think it’s something you’d like to see forever. Seeing you waiting for him in bed, Steve’s thinking the exact same thing.

“Hi,” you say.

Steve wraps a hand around your bare ankle, his thumb smoothing back and forth. “Hi.”

Though everything’s out in the open now, there’s a shyness there. Like two kids with crushes wondering what to do next. You’ve never loved each other out loud before today. It’s brand new territory.

But with that shyness, there’s so much more. There’s the knowledge of how it feels to kiss each other, to hold each other. There’s want to do it all again.

Steve’s other hand reaches for your book and sets it open and face-down on your nightstand. Then, he pushes your knees over so that he can lean in. He’s not fully thinking about what he’s doing, he’s simply listening to this thread that pulls him closer and closer to you until he’s kissing you again.

It starts with a couple of pecks, innocent, soft, quick. It turns into more and somewhere along the way you’re tugged into Steve’s lap, your knees on either side of one of his thighs. And somewhere along the way Steve’s hands have ventured under your shirt, running across your waist and up and down your back. He groans into your mouth when he notices the lack of a bra.

Steve tugs you impossibly closer to him, tugs you down so that you’re straddling his thigh with all of your weight. You inhale sharp and quick through your nose when he does.

It’s not long after that before you’re panting, unable to keep up with his mouth, and though Steve’s chest heaves, too, he doesn’t take the break to breathe properly. Instead, he dips his head to kiss your jaw, then your neck.

Your head tilts for him easily, an arm wrapped around his shoulders and the other tangled in the hair at the bale of his neck. You gasp when his teeth scrape against the skin behind your ear, your hips hurting unconsciously to rut against his thigh.

“Sorry,” you say, worried it was too much. Still, it comes out breathily.

He pulls back from your neck, looks into your eyes, his brown ones just a bit darker than usual. “Did that feel good?”

Your eyes search his face for an ounce of discomfort, of uncertainty. All you see is the kind of warmth that spreads through you, the kind of intensity that only comes with lust.

“Yes.”

“Do it again,” he tells you, his hands slipping down to rest just above the waistband of your shorts. He encourages you to move, his hands pushing and pulling. You move with him, slowly at first, letting out the smallest whimper when the angle is just right. At the sound, Steve says, “keep doing it.”

“Steve.”

“You’re okay,” his hands urge you forward again, his thumbs running back and forth soothingly. “I wanna make you feel good. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agree, because how could you not when it already feels so good, when he’s looking at you with kiss-swollen lips, messy hair, and wide pupils. When he’s looking at you like it feels as good for him as it does for you.

You move quicker, his hands encouraging you still. He kisses you again, kisses you until you have to pull away, your mouth dropping open, a moan slipping out before you can stop it.

Steve wishes he could bottle up the sound and keep it, listen to it over and over. Because he’s the one who’s making you feel that way, he’s the one who has your hand tight in his hair. Because he’s thought about you before, and it’s nothing compared to the real thing.

The sweatpants you lent him grow a bit tighter, and his hands don’t stop guiding you over him. He wants to hear you make that noise again.

You drop your forehead to his shoulder, your thighs tightening around his, your clit catching on the fabric of your shorts and his (your) sweatpants enough to make you moan again.

“That’s it, baby. Doin’ so good.”

It’s the first time he’s ever called you ‘baby’ and you hope it won’t be the last.

“Steve.”

“I’ve got you.”

The hand that isn’t in his hair trails down his torso and rests above the waistband of his pants for a second. Your hand cups him over his pants, squeezing lightly and finding him hard. Watching you was enough to turn him on, and the thought makes you whimper again.

“Fuck. You don’t have to,” he says, taking a hand from your waist to pull your face from his shoulder, to look at you.

“Want you to feel good, too.”

There’s nothing but honesty in your words, want in your eyes.

“Shit, honey.”

“Will you let me?” You ask, your voice slightly strained from the stimulation you feel, your hips still moving.

“Yeah.”

Your hand slips under the waistband with his consent, and you wrap it around him, your thumb running over his tip. He groans and leans his forehead against yours.

You’re breathing the same air, moving at the same pace, and you don’t think it’s ever felt this right with anyone before. With Steve, you’re not thinking about how you might look and whether or not he’ll like it, you’re only thinking about being with him.

“I’ve thought about you before. Like this,” he says, a quiet confession broken up by heavy breaths.

“Me, too,” you reply in a gasp.

His hands are both on your waist again, squeezing your skin tighter because you have a hand wrapped around his cock and it has his head spinning.

“You getting close, baby?”

“Yeah, Steve. So good.”

“I know. Keep going. I wanna see you.”

His voice is tight, and he’s holding himself back though it hasn’t been long. Your hand is soft, running up and down and he hasn’t been with someone in so long. The fact that it’s you, right now, doesn’t help him last. Just kissing you would be enough, he thinks.

Your rhythm stutters, your eyes squeezing shut, and just like that, you’re tipping over the edge and coming on his thigh.

“That’s it, sweet girl,” he hums, low and scratchy. “That’s it. Look so pretty coming on me.”

Your hand pauses where it was jerking him off, too caught up in your orgasm to keep going. You say his name, say it again, and he keeps you moving over him through it all.

“Fuck,” you open your eyes when the last wave draws away, your legs shaking slightly.

It doesn’t take you long to start stroking him again, up and down and back again. Steve grunts and his hips stutter upwards, chasing your touch. It’s your turn to work him through it.

“Gonna come, honey,” he warns you. “I’ll ruin your sweats.”

“Don’t care,” you say, kissing his cheek, the corner of his mouth. “I want you to.”

You run your thumb across the tip again and then his fingers are digging into your skin. He’s groaning and you feel the warmth of his come spill onto your hand. Neither of you had taken any clothes off and still, it’s the best you’ve ever had.

“Shit, honey.” This time it’s his head that rests against your shoulder. “I’m gonna need another shower now.”

You laugh breathily and pull your hand from his pants, wiping it off on the thigh you’re not sitting on, ‘cause they’re already ruined, anyway.

“I’ll get you another pair,” you say.

“In a minute. Can’t move.”

A minute is closer to five, and eventually he lets you go. You hand him a new pair of sweatpants, then clean up in the bathroom and change into different shorts. When you come back, he’s laying down under the covers in your bed. Twin smiles spread on your faces.

“You’re cute,” you tell him.

“So are you.”

You shake your head and flick your light off, the street lights flooding through your window the only thing left illuminating your room. You join him under the covers, and he doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around you and pull you into his chest.

Your head rests by his shoulder, one of your legs thrown over his. Having him laying next to you is much more comfortable than being alone.

“I love you,” Steve says, his lips pushing a kiss into your hair.

“I love you,” you say right back.

And then, just like you’d imagined so many times before, you fall asleep cuddling Steve. And just like he’s imagined so many times before, you wake up that way, too.

/ᐠ(๏‸๏)ᐟ\

thank you guys so much for reading spidey!steve i hope u liked it!!!! pls pls consider reblogging and letting me know what you thought, i promise it makes a difference <333

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petriwriting · 6 months ago

Text

All Over Again - College!Peter Parker X Reader

Summary: College!Peter Parker, Female reader (She her pronouns). After No Way Home, Peter is in college. He's tried to move on from his past, but cannot let go of one person. So he has to get her to fall in love with him, all over again.

A/N branching out with more of my comfort characters from different fandoms. Warning for google translated Tagalog (filipino) Also this accidentally became mega fluff. oops.

"Are you okay?"

Peter asked with concern. He is battered and beaten, tired, but relieved and a bit sad. Y/N Embraced him, tightly. "yes, we're fine. i'm so glad you're okay," Peter looked at his friends his eyes were so saddened seeing them.

"You're going to forget who I am," he says, Y/N, Ned and MJ all look at him in confusion. "what?" says Ned, "What are you talking about?" MJ says, full of concern.

"Peter, Please," Y/N says, stepping forward, looking at him. He holds her face in his hands gently. "It's okay," Peter Coos. "I'm going to come find you, and I'll explain everything." Y/N's face begins to swell with tears, "I'll make you remember me." He says assuredly.

"Like none of this ever happened." Peter glances over to Ned and MJ. "Okay?" Peter asks, waiting for reassurance.

"What if that doesn't work?" Y/N asks, desperately looking at him. "What if that doesn't work and we- I can't remember you?" Y/N pleas. "Please Peter I can't lose you,"

"I know," Peter says "There's nothing else we can do." He begins to wipe the tears from her cheeks with his thumb. "Y/n, please" Peter says, it's breaking his heart at just the thought of not being able to see her every day. "Trust me." He says, Y/N nods, and their lips meet in a passionate embrace, a moment of desperate love. "I Love you," Peter whispers. "I love you," she manages to whimper back.

"Promise?" Ned says after their embrace.

"I Promise." Peter says.

They shake hands and embrace, and MJ gives Peter a tight hug.

Peter takes another look at Y/N, feeling as if he's losing the best part of himself. The three watch him leave, each crying and grieving the soon to be loss.

~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~

Y/N reported to work promptly and on time, as usual. The small Coffee shop was practically empty, aside from one customer who was busy on his laptop - probably swiftly typing business proposals. he had his airpods in his ears, and had been slowly sipping a black coffee.

Y/N wondered what it was like to have a job, to be important to someone. For some reason, they woke up last week feeling somewhat empty, a sudden and strange longing and depression. It was as if she was missing a piece of herself.

Despite the existential feelings, Y/N still wiped counters and brewed coffee for everyone. A rush of relief hit her when the bell at the door rang, alerting her of a someone's presence. It was Peter Parker, A name that did not yet mean anything to her. She thought he was cute, and he smiled softly and waved. "Hi, Welcome inn." She said, putting on her best fake nice customer service voice. "Hi." Peter said. He was taken aback by her beauty, even at work in some stuffy uniform. "I've missed you." He wanted to say, but didn't for the sake of not wanting to come across as a total creep. Y/N waited promptly to write down his order. "What would you like?" she prompted. Peter just stood there, it was slightly awkward. "We have your standard coffee shop staples, lattes, espresso, flat white, mocha," Y/N listed off the different kinds of drinks, and Peter let her. It was like music hearing her voice again. "We also have one that's new, it's called the Spider-Man latte. It's basically like a regular latte, But we put white chocolate and spider sprinkles on the whipped cream. Very popular right now." Y/N continued to explain.

"That sounds great." Peter said, "Alright, One Spider-Man Latte coming right up." she said, grabbing a coffee cup to prepare the beverage for him. "Is dairy ok?" She asked.

"what?" Peter said awkwardly. "Dairy, like milk. some people like almond milk, or like soy milk. for some reason people really like nut milk." Y/N said, with a slight amusement. It was almost a flirty quip.

"Well regular cow milk is fine. . ." Peter trailed off, "Unless you have spider-milk." Peter was immediately embarrassed. God that was so awkward.. He thought. Peter wasn't much of a flirt, but the Y/N he knew would have laughed.

Y/N paused for a moment and then smiled softly. "Well we dont carry that, but if you figure out how to milk a spider, please come back and let us know i'm sure it would be a total hit."

Peter smiled softly watching her decorate the top of the cup with whip cream and sprinkles.

"That'll be... $6.75."

Peter handed her cash, and she gave back the correct amount of change. Peter put it right into the tip jar, knowing she would probably use the money for her lunch later. "Thanks, Hey- You look really familiar. Have I seen you here before?" She asked, out of curiosity.

"Well I think we have class together, actually." Peter admitted.

"Oh, which one?"

"Physics." He says prompty, knowing that she sat in the back of the class everyday...

"Oh really?" Y/N shrugged. "I'm not really doing so great in that class to be honest. I got a C on the midterm, some of the questions were a little unclear." She said with a slight laugh.

"oh, i'm actually doing well, I could tutor you sometimes if you want?"

Peter offered, Y/N was unsure of how to proceed, but when she looked into his eyes, it was as if she'd seen him before. she just could not remember...

"That's really nice actually, I'd appreciate that." She said, taking a pen out of her apron and writing her number on a piece of receipt paper. "Here, you can text me. I get off at 6."

"And what was your name again?" she asked.

"Peter Parker."

"right, Peter parker." She repeated his name back to him. "i'm -"

"Y/N," Peter said immediately.

"How did you... Oh." Peter had gestured towards the name tag she was wearing.

Y/N nodded, wondering why there was suddenly butterflies in her stomach over a boy she couldn't even remember was in one of her classes. "Well, enjoy your coffee, Peter."

"you too!"

He said, which caused them both to chuckle.

A Few Weeks Later.

The two had texted as if they were old friends, as if they'd always known each other. sending memes and cute messages throughout the day.

It was late in the evening, Y/N was lonely, so naturally she sent a text to her classmate and new friend.

She opened the contact for Peter Parker and drafted a text message. Heyy she brushed her thumb over the text before ultimately deciding to just press send.

A few minutes later, a reply popped up.

What are you up to?

Just at home rn

That sounds fun

Not so much..

Sorry :(

The bubble with the three dots appeared for a moment, then disappeared. Y/N was a bit disappointed in this. Then, the phone was ringing. Facetime call from Peter Parker, she answered almost immediately of course.

"Hi." She said excited to see him.

"Hey." Peter said quietly.

"How was class today?" Y/N asked, watching and waiting for Peters reaction on her phone's screen.

"It was alright, but you weren't there.." Peter looked down sadly. "You didn't miss much though, cause' we were just recapping the exam questions." Y/N frowned. "Yeah, I wasn't feeling all that great this morning, I just could not get out of bed..." Y/N trailed off. "I'm not sure why."

Peter looked hurt by this, because deep down he was. He couldn't bear the thought of his decision hurting her. He hated thinking about it at all.

"Well I know of something that I think could make you feel better.." Peter began. "Oh yeah?" She perked up. the butterflies in her stomach were back. "Yes, but it would be kind of a surprise. Can I Come over?" He asked. Y/N nodded. "I think that would be nice. I could use some company." She says. "I'll text you my address now." Y/N says.

"You're not like a serial killer or anything though right?"

Peter chuckled, he had already collected himself ready to go. "No of course not!" Y/N smiled. "okay well then i'll be waiting on this surprise, It better be worth it!" Y/N joked. "I'll see you in a bit."

The call ended, and Y/N went to go freshen up, butterflies in her stomach. she had no idea where they came from.

Less than 15 minutes later, Peter had arrived with flowers, Y/N's favorite candy, and a pizza for them to share. They ended up talking for hours, and falling asleep to a movie on netflix, Y/N leaning right onto Peters shoulder. This was the first night Y/N felt herself somewhat starting to fall for him.

Later.

After going on a few dates and talking even more, Y/N was officially falling for Peter Parker. He visited her work to bring her lunch almost every day, and they were texting each other constantly.

Today, they had a date planned. Y/N was ecstatic, she had spent hours getting ready, and fantasizing about the romantic evening. It was their first nice date at an italian restaurant. She was even dressed in her nicest outfit.

Y/N finished getting ready for the evening, stopping by the mirror to put on a pair of earrings. The plan was so romantic it was as if it was straight out of a movie. An early dinner at a nice restaurant, an evening stroll through the park to go to a museum. She sent Peter a Quick text I can't wait to see you tonight. she checked to see the word "Read" which was followed by the current time.

Upon entering the street where the restaurant was, Y/N was greeted and sat at the table Peter had reserved for them. was she early? when she had checked the time, she wasn't all that early. but Peter was late. she waited, imagining that he missed his train, or got lost, or forgot about some homework. Although that was so out of character for him.

The time ticked by, after about an hour, she had watched people come and go from the busy restaurant, deciding to just leave. It was dark out by now, and the walk home felt dangerous.

She pulled out her phone to call Peter, see if he was running late as a last resort. anything. Maybe it was just too good to be true.

It rang for a while before going to voicemail. at the beep Y/N left a voicemail.

"Hey pete." Her voice was defeated. "I just wanted to see if you were okay and what was going on, Since you stood me up. I just," she sighed heavily. "I really really like you, and i thought you liked me but i guess i'm just head over heels for someone that doesn't care like I do. I'm sorry. But i'm going home for the night. Just text me later, ok?"

She was beyond disappointed. Y/N walked home alone, made it back and cried. She undressed, putting on a pair of shorts, some fuzzy socks and without realizing it, one of Peter's T-shirts he had left at her flat. It had been three hours or so since Peter had left her at that restaurant, alone. In total defeat, she curled up into bed, ready to lull of into sleep to avoid this awful feeling.

Knock.. Knock.. Knock...

It wasn't at the door, but at her window. Y/N jolted up, terrified someone was trying to break in. or worse. She waited quietly, listening, before her phone started buzzing. It was Peter. She answered quickly, scared she was about to get robbed she just wanted to have someone on the line in case. "Hey, It's Peter im outside." he sounded so quiet, his voice was hoarse and he sounded exhausted. Y/N opened the window in confusion.

"He climbing the goddamn fire escape..." She thought. Opening the window, Peter spilled in. His face was brusied, his cheek had a small scratch with blood dried to his face. He looked awful. "Oh my god." Y/N exclaimed, helping him to her bed. He was beaten up pretty bad, and limped slightly. "Peter what happened??" Y/N demanded. "I uh, I got mugged." Peter lied, he was never a particularly good liar to those he loved, but Y/N was filled with worry. "Pete," She grabbed his face gently wiping the blood off his cheek. "I'm so sorry," She sighed. "I feel like an idiot.."

"why?" Peter asked. "I thought you stood me up I was angry and upset, I feel awful knowing you were getting mugged!" Y/N exclaimed. Peter sighed. It didn't feel right.

"I wasn't mugged. I'm sorry Y/N." He said softly. "I have to be honest." Peter stood, and walked over to face the balcony, taking off his shoes. Y/N saw he was wearing red socks although the apartment was dark. "I have to tell you something." Y/N sat on the edge of her bed, in confusion and shock.

She watched as peter took his sweatshirt and jeans off, revealing his suit to her in the moonlight. y/n gasped softly.

"it's you." she said.

Peter nodded.

"And that's not even the craziest part..." He half smiled, going back to sit on the edge of the bed with her once again. "You're going to think i'm absolutely insane." He whispered. Y/n Shook her head, beginning to think she was dreaming.

"I'm Spider-man." Peter said softly. "And I Love you."

Y/N wanted to burst into tears, but sat frozen in shock.

"I always have, since the first time I saw you. You were in my class in elementary school, your hair was braided and you always said hi to me..." He said, smiling at the memory. although y/n had no memory of him whatsoever. "We were in Love, but I had to make a decision that potentially saved the world.." he said, grabbing y/n's hands in his own. "I had Doctor Strange cast a spell, so that everyone would forget who I was. I can prove it. That necklace you're wearing," Y/N looked down to see the necklace around her neck, she had no idea why she felt like she should wear it everyday and no memory of ever buying it.. "I got it for you in high school. and look," Peter pulled up a picture of Y/N and himself on his phone, it was his lockscreen. The two were sharing french fries on the top of a building in new york.

"Peter," Y/N said gently. "I told you I would find you one day, and explain everything. I didn't want you to think I was some creep or some asshole that would stand you up at the restaurant like that,"

"And I know that living a double life is extremely difficult, and people get hurt. I know that being spider-man puts you in danger, So for a while i kept quiet." He explained.

"I just want you to know the truth. you deserve that."

"Peter," Y/n breathed quietly. "I Love you." She said, Peter couldn't wait any longer and kissed her, deeply and softly. Y/N was beginning to feel the emptiness become whole again.

Years later.

College Graduation.

Everyone was excited, MJ even wore a dazzling gown, and Ned wore his best suit, Y/N was dressed nicely, and Peter was wearing a nice suit. It felt like the ending of a movie where everyone is happy and the hopeful song starts playing. It was a new chapter in life for everyone. Peter had become a huge part of Y/N's life, even rebuilding his relationship with MJ and Ned as well. It felt oddly nostalgic for him.

"Halika, oras na para sa larawan!" Ned's Lola exclaimed.

Y/N looked at Ned, so did everyone else. "She said lets get a picture."

The group chuckled and gathered for a picture. Ned was in the center, by peter, who had his arm around Y/N leaning over to kiss her cheek. MJ had her arm around Ned, smiling widely. As they all posed the camera clicked, and Lola was very pleased. "you all look beautiful!" Lola said, smiling teary eyed. "Am so proud of you." She gave Ned a big hug. She hugged MJ, Peter and Y/N.

"I'm proud of us too!" Ned exclaimed.

_ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _

Epliogue

After graduation, Peter had planned a romantic date night, Giving Y/N absolutely no details. She walked with Peter up to the rooftop of their shared apartment.

There ware rose petals, candles, and a table and chair set up with a nice bottle of champagne and two glasses set up. Y/N's favorite flowers were in a vase in the center of the small table, The view of the city's skyline was in the distance as they walked. Peter pulled out the chair for her and the two sat.

"Pete this is beautiful..." Y/N smiled gratefully.

"Y/N," Peter began, he was nervous, Y/N could tell, but she kept quiet. She always made peter feel fluttery, He was so madly in love with her.

"Now that we've graduated, and we've got the rest of our lives ahead of us..."

"I know that I want to spend it with you." He says, reaching for something, and getting down on one knee to propose a tiny antique ring. "This was my Aunt May's ring, It was my mothers' too. I want to give this to you and ask," Peter gulped. "Will you marry me?" He asked.

Y/N was elated. She was so in love with him, everything felt so perfect. "Yes!" She exclaimed. Peter slipped the ring onto her finger and she admired it for a moment before embracing Peter. Peter picked her up, twirling her around before kissing her.

The moment was so sweet, they proceeded to pop the bottle of champagne and sip the golden bubbly liquid from their glasses. "I can't wait to spend forever with you." Y/N said, admiring her new ring. "you have no idea how long i've waited to ask you." Peter admitted. "I've carried that ring around for years."

"i'm so glad you found me again."

"You have no idea." Peter said quietly.

Enjoying the moment, there was a breeze in the air, and birds flying by every now and then. It was as if the city yielded for them in that moment.

"So does this mean i'll be Mrs. Spider-man?" she said light heatedly. "Well yes, but maybe don't tell everyone- would kinda defeat the purpose of a secret identity." Peter said with a chuckle. Y/N smiled and laughed. "Y/N Parker." He said. "I like that." Y/N said, and then repeated him to hear herself say the words. "Y/N Parker."

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avidread3r · 1 year ago

Text

Miguel: *sigh*

...

Miguel:*SIGHHH*

y/n: and why are we sighing?

Miguel: beCAUSE gwen and her little friend group said something about going somewhere and haven't returned.

y/n: maybe that's because they went somewhere and are still there? they're kids, they're just hanging out doing kid stuff.

Miguel: it's been four hours. FOUR HOURS!

y/n: I take just as long when I'm out. why are you so worried? they're fine.

Miguel: how are you not worried?

...

Miguel: you've been stalking them haven't you?

Y/n: it's not stalking! I'm just keeping an eye on them and their location...and what they're doing.

Miguel: that's called stalking.

Y/n: it's called being a concerned parent Miguel!

Meanwhile the kids:

#they're trying their best #miguel 'bby girl' o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #Atsv #atsv spoilers #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #Fanfiction #atsv imagines #atsv fic #atsv fanfiction #Obviously don't actually stalk ur kids. They're just trynna keep the kids safe cause y'know they're spidey people and fight super villains #as there are literal fucked up peeps in all the universes they go to #gwen stacy #miles morales #hobie brown #pavitr prabhakar #drathalthotz

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 1 year ago

Text

spider society

pairing: miles morales x gn!spidey (platonic)

WC: 3.3K

warnings: cursing and slight spoilers!

summary: a new friend is welcomed but is quick to become foe.

A/N: SPOILER WARNING FOR ATSV!!!! i wrote this in a day and on little sleep, so that will explain if this is terrible. also barely proofread so apologies for any writing errors. i did the best i could for the scene based on memory and clips from tik tok.

masterlist

earth-42

the lobby was crowded. like always. spider people here, there, everywhere. floor to ceiling as they traversed to their different destinations whether that be another dimension to fix anomalies or just the food court to get some lunch.

your headphones covered your ears to keep the loud conversations at bay as you mind your business. nothing to do, just tapping finger to finger in random patterns as you observed everyone with your background music. with your eyes landing near the entrance of the building you saw gwen and hobie, along with someone you’d never met before but excited for the new face. literally new face.

“gwen! hobie!” you shouted after pushing the bulky headphones down to your neck before rushing towards them. they waved you close to them, gwen with a friendly smile and hobie with his watchful eyes but only filled with kindness.

you stopped before the three of them and gave the two of them quick hugs before they could make any objections. attention now on the new person. his was tall and lean and looked a few years younger than you. black kid with curly hair and wandering dark eyes.

“hi, i’m y/n l/n. or spidey or spider, if you want. but best to use my name since we’re all spiders.” mouth moving on its own. “sorry. just haven’t seen a new face or person in a little bit. no offense to the peter’s,” you leaned closer to his face and he leaned away slightly from the intrusion, “but there are too many of him. and a lot of them sound closely the same.”

“don’t let peter hear that.” gwen joke. she gave a quick nudge to her quiet friend. “this is miles morales.”

“h-hi. yeah, i’m miles. nice to meet you, this place is just… wow.” head turning in all directions to get the full scope.

“yeah, kinda crazy. but miguel worked hard to make all this happen for us. kinda nice to physically see you're not alone in the fight.”

“speaking of-“ gwen got cut off by miles glitching out and dropping to the floor in pain. you knelt with him and touched his shoulder. “he doesn’t have a watch?” frantic as you check his wrist for the bulky device but not finding it. gwen bit her lip but avoided eye contact and looked at someone behind you.

“here,” you heard the motherly voice of jessica drew, “day pass.” and saw how miles caught the flimsy band before slipping it on.

“why don’t we get some food?” trying to break the sudden tension jessica brought with her. but before anyone could agree or disagree with your idea, she spoke up. “actually the three…” her eyes lingered on you and the touch of your hand to miles’s shoulder, “the four of you need to see miguel. it’s urgent.”

you didn’t like that. you don’t like it whenever miguel calls for you and it’s not for a job. you tried making an excuse, “actually, i should get-“ “don’t lie your way out, y/n. just follow the rules.” jessica commanded.

she started to walk away, then gwen and hobie followed after her. “hey,” miles tried to make eye contact. you felt like shrinking into yourself. “don’t worry. i’m sure it’ll be fine.”

you knew it wasn’t but didn’t bother. a weary smile, “why don’t we stop by the food court?” fingers circling his wrist as you tugged him along. “miguel loves the empanadas and it wouldn’t hurt to keep him on the nice side.” miles happily agreed.

the walk to miguel’s ‘office’ was always dark and quiet. too quiet, the sound of just your breathing and footsteps sounding like blaring sirens that bounced off the walls. you hated the walk. instinctively you wore your headphones over your ears and played something, but at a low volume to still hear miles and hobie converse. gwen led your group, her back the only thing you saw as she didn’t bother with facing any of you. she felt closed off.

you eyed hobie as he nicked bits and pieces from walls, tables, and junk. you didn’t stop him like miles was trying, just watching with pure curiosity, wondering what he was up to. always doing something to rebel.

miles turned to you and you saw his mouth moving, but only faintly heard his words. pausing the music and moving the device back to your neck you asked him to repeat his sentence.

“so, how does one get recruited for this spider society?” he held the to-go box in both hands. his thumbs rubbing at the top in a nervous sort of gesture.

“i- i don’t think you’d like it very much.” not wanting miles to be stuck like the rest of you. “catching anomalies is very annoying. and very busy. wouldn’t you like to stay in your dimension? with your friends and family?” voice going soft and melancholy. fingers toying with the device at your wrist.

you didn’t notice how miles eyes softened from your tone or how gwen looked fully over her shoulder towards you, knowing the true meaning of your words. and hobie continued to knick bits.

“well…” miles tried to restart the conversation, “i mean. at least with the watch, i can visit my friends. i can hang out with you more.” a playful nudge to your arm pulled a smile. a new friend, you liked the thought.

“why not just make your own watch?” hobie commented. he broke something off a defective project and stuffed it into his vest pocket. “you look smart enough to build from scraps.” he kicked his thick boots at objects in his path.

“i wanna do this by the rules. by the books.” he shrugged his shoulders. face looking just a bit glum.

“are either of your parents' cops?” a simple question you posed.

he looked confused but still answered, “my dad. gonna be captain soon.” he smiled down at the ground. he must be very proud of his family.

now you nudge his shoulder, “well, i bet your dad is proud of you. knowing or not knowing. but sometimes, you shouldn’t play by the book.” a hushed whisper.

“aye, y/n!” hobie slapped his hands on your shoulders, “that’s what i like to hear! screw the system. do what you need to do, my guy.”

“guys!” gwen raised her voice, “please can we just-“ she trailed her sentence off with a tilt of her head. the four of you were getting closer.

“miles, just remember,” hobie leaned towards miles, “don’t join the establishment until you know what you’re fighting for.”

the hallway widened out and when you looked up, miguel had his back turned as he stood on his platform. miles looked to gwen and she held a hand up, “yeah. i know, but it’s his thing. so just…” and she trailed off again.

gwen and miles walked further into the light as you and hobie stayed near the dark. hobie situated himself along the wall, fingers playing with whatever he got his hands on. you leaned beside him with your arms crossed over your chest and hip cocked. just from this show alone, you know miles is in for a miguel tantrum.

“how’s it been?” eyes on hobie, “um… okay.” you picked at the nylon of your suit, “sometimes if i’m bored, i go to other places. they let me as long as i don’t cause trouble. sorry i haven’t visited recently.” a twist to your lips.

hobie waved you off, “ain’t a problem. pop by whenever. gwendys around most times.”

your heads turned when miguel raised his voice and threw the food box to the ground. you pushed away from the wall and walked closer to the light.

“what’d i do?” “miguel. it’s not his fault.” miles and gwen’s voices mixed. you heard a thwip and turned to see hobie stealing the free food.

“he’s screwed everything up! just like doctor strange and that little nerd from earth-1999999.” miguel pinched his nose bridge.

“i visited there once. interesting place.” miles seemed to be the only one intrigued by your story. “they have this group called the avengers.” eyes widening at the word.

“are they like a band?” miles cocked his head. “no earth’s mightiest-“

“who the hell cares!”

you flinched at the boom of miguel’s voice and slinked back into the dark shadows by hobie. automatically he threw an arm over your shoulder and pulled you to his side.

“someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” he muttered. you wanted to comment but felt if you even made a peep miguel would be on your ass. hobie, always the kind friend, noticed your silence and slipped your headphones back on. you didn’t need music at the moment just something to muffle the noise.

eyes watched how miguel and miles spoke. their bodies tense, miguel using his looming height advantage to have more authority. mile's lanky arms fling about and look from gwen to miguel. with your headphones, you couldn’t hear, but you saw how miles turned around and his face was graced with a smile as he ran to someone.

“oh great. humbling reality spider-man has joined.” hobie’s words muffled before you made your ears free again.

you saw peter parker, peter b parker, as he liked to be called. he and miles shared a hug and you started to look at the walls and ceilings.

“why do you have a baby carrier?” miles pointed at the carrier peter always wore.

“mayday!” you squeal when you see her crawling your way. the two of you were well acquainted since you’ll babysit for peter and mj on short notice. or whenever really, they were such a kind family.

the little bundle of joy yipped when you crouched to her level and pulled her to your chest. her tiny hands setting on your shoulders as her blue and green eyes darted over your face. a gloved hand smoothed some of her flyaways and wind-swept hair.

“you have a baby!” you heard miles. “i have a baby! yeah, it’s crazy kid.” peter sighed.

“how’s my favorite web crawler? huh? causing trouble for your dad?” cooing in a baby voice. pretending she could understand every word and would reply in detail about the chaos she brings. you pinched at her chubby cheeks.

“can we get back to business? serious business?” miguel always brings the mood down.

“you are the only serious spider person. we’re supposed to be funny. throwing quips as we punch bad guys.” peter grumbled and made a mocking tone of miguel. he looked about ready to send everyone away.

“lyla, do the thing.” the computer teased miguel for a moment before doing the thing he asked. she pulled up the web of life and destiny.

“it’s called something very scientific, but i like to just call it the spider web. short and simple.” a side comment to miles. “cool.”

“these are canon events. things that can’t change no matter what or the universe collapses.” getting bit by the spider. uncle ben dying or someone close to you. a captain saving a kid but getting killed in the process.

miguel showed different versions of spider-man in those different scenarios. he specifically showed the spiders mourning the death of captain stacy.

you pressed mayday’s head into your shoulder, not wanting her to see this. you turned to gwen and saw her poker face, but you could see the emotion swimming in her irises. she hadn’t been back to her dimension in a while, always crashing in different spots.

“miles,” you looked away as you bounced the child, “what you did back in pavitr’s reality, it broke canon. that’s what caused the black hole and hopefully, we can stop it. but it doesn’t always happen.”

you felt eyes on you. you didn’t like the sudden attention. but you were starting to get why jessica brought you here. why miguel pointed a finger at you to miles confusion. he wanted you to be on his side.

“y/n… do you want to tell miles what happened?” you ignored him. playing with mayday, knuckles caressing her rosy cheeks. “y/n… the kid needs to understand the importance.” you sighed and pressed a kiss to mayday’s temple.

“understand what?” miles walked closer to you. “y/n? what happened?”

you licked your lips. “my reality is gone. i… i got to love my gwen stacy. i didn’t lose any family or a captain who i was bickering friends with. i- i got to have it all. i ‘broke’ canon, but i don’t believe that crap.”

“y/n…” miguel had a warning tone.

“everything was wonderful. not once after each event happened a giant hole formed until one day it just did. it was just a normal day. gwen and i were having a date at this ice cream shop she loved, she looked so pretty. she always did. we were walking towards the met since she kept saying we needed to visit more.”

you raised mayday above you and flashed a toothy smile. she giggled and you pulled her close to rub noses. a sigh as you continue your story.

“it- it just happened out of nowhere. i can’t even place what the cause would have been. one minute it’s a normal day and then next a black hole a few blocks away which then changed into… reality being eaten away.”

you didn’t notice the tears falling until little hands touched your cheeks. mayday stared and baby babbled. a hand to your shoulder, peter giving a pitying look. you handed his daughter back to him and wiped your tears. done with talking, but miguel finished the story.

“they already had a watch and when i noticed what was happening and the rate it was destroying everything… i managed to pull them out in time. they are the last remnants of their home reality.”

it was quiet. no one was speaking and it still felt too loud.

“but… what’s this got to do with me?” happy that miles pulled the attention back to him.

“you are the first anomaly.” miguel voiced. “your spider bite wasn’t from your dimension, you already had a spider-man. and yet somehow… everything is fine.” he seemed pissed at the simple fact.

“miles in two days your dad is gonna become captain.” gwen spoke. her tone seeping in sorrow.

miles looked around. his face scrunched in confusion and growing anger. then he did another look at the images of different peters with captain stacy. his face was dropping.

“your- you're saying i just have to let my dad die? to- to avoid reality crashing? cause it’s a- a canon event?”

“yes,” miguel replied as if that didn’t sound crazy.

miles turned to gwen, “your dad. he’s a captain right?” she nodded. “you’re just, what? just gonna let him die?” her eyes fell to the floor.

“we have to do things to keep reality stable. it’s not always pretty, but it comes with the cost of being spider-man. you can’t have both.”

“i can! i know i can! i can be spider-man and miles!”

your senses went off just a bit and you took account of all the people starting to crowd the room. this felt wrong. it felt like a trap, and for once you're the bad guys. peter and gwen tried to calm miles down, he was understandably upset at everyone shouting orders at him. you wanted to pull miles away and hide the both of you from miguel and the others. this wasn’t right.

“this will hold you for a few days.” and miguel dropped one of his devices to the floor that changed to a red-screened cage.

“miles!” you rushed to the holoprojection and started to bang your fist along with miles. gwen and peter were bickering with miguel. and hobie popped up beside you with his palms facing miles with a knowing smile.

hobie pulled you away when you started to see the electricity start to spark. then suddenly there was a loud boom and explosion of air. everyone was swept off their feet. hobie was able to keep you upright.

miles stood free and looked at his palms as he panted. he quickly looked your way and you only could say, “run.” and he took off.

“no!” miguel roared.

he started to chase after him, but you shot a web to his feet to slow him down. his crazed eyes widened at your disobedience. “you have no idea what you’ve done.” he extended the red blades from his arms, cutting himself free and rushing out of the room with others following.

your chest was panting with fear and worry. you looked to hobie for help, but he stood in a portal and threw his watch away. “for the record i quit.” and he was gone in the blink of an eye.

you were the only one on miles’s side.

you shot web after web at different spider people. at their feet, wrist, faces, anything to slow them down and give miles enough time to form a plan and execute it. you tried to catch up to him, but a few people gave you a taste of your own medicine and fought you.

you were being held down by one of the many peter parker variants, “stay out of our way!” he shouted as he webbed you uptight. you struggled against the hold but it was no use. so you were left alone once the tower was emptied, you just hoped miles was okay.

you were sure how long you’ve been webbed up. your body started to get that prickly feeling when it wasn’t getting proper blood flow through the body. wiggling your body in the hold, hoping to loosen it, a voice called out.

“y/n?” eyes connected with miles who was hanging upside down on a web. one side of his suit was ripped, but he looked safe.

“oh thank goodness. i tried to catch up, but as you can see, i’ve been webbed.”

miles looked around. when he eyed you again he looked hesitant to free you, you understood. some of his friends that he’s known longer turned on him behind his back. but you knew he was a different case, miguel was just using this canon logic as a cover.

“go miles. i don’t want to keep you from getting home.” a reassuring smile to his tired eyes. but he didn’t leave, he started to pull at the webbing and helped you free.

“let’s go.” he led you to the go-home machine. he was able to go invisible as he worked the computers so you stayed on the ceiling in the dark shadows.

when the machine was up and running he hopped in and called your name. you looked to margo, spider byte, who was busy with lyla as the two tried to stop the stitching process. you dived in and stood beside him, the two of you getting anxious the longer it was taking.

“stop the machine!” miguel was charging forward. you knew margo shouted a comment back without hearing her.

the machine was getting closer, it was about eighty percent closed. you thought you were in the clear, but miguel sunk his blood-red claws into the threading and started to rip at it. you pushed miles behind you, “just let us go, miguel!”

“i can’t do that, y/n! why can’t you understand i’m doing this for everyone’s safety!” he growled. the threading was holding.

“because this canon shit is a lie! if miles wasn’t supposed to be spider-man, his reality would have broken a long time ago! you’re just trying to manipulate everyone!”

your body lifted into the air. it was time to leave. and just before you were gone, you did one more reckless thing. you tore the watch off your wrist and threw it to the ground making it shatter. you stared directly into miguel’s burning eyes.

“i quit.”

a/n2: i actually wrote a little more after this part, but it just didnt end off well. i wrote this from like the hours of 8pm to 6am (i did sleep a little in between dont worry)

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