#STILL ALIVE KILLING TIME AT THE CEMETARY NEVER QUITE BURIED | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ollieologys · 5 years ago

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summertime (with you) | p. parker | one.

SUMMARY; In Queens, things have finally calmed down for Peter Parker - he’s more than content with the way life is going. In Brooklyn, Y/N struggles with her own identity. Out of nowhere, Spider-Man dies, and Y/N begins to stick to things. (into the spider-verse/multi-verse au)

PAIRING; peter parker x spider-woman!reader

WORDS; 2.4k

WARNING; mentions of death (a/n: i updated twice today cause why not? also! if you’ve seen into the spider-verse, you know how that plotline goes. i’m going to incorporate my own villian and stuff like that into order to make this both easier for me to write and go how i want it to. this, of course, is more of a love story than an action one and therefore that’s what i’ll focus on! thank u for reading i love u <3)

prologue | two |

“Summertime is meant to fall in love, I could fall asleep and stare in your eyeeesss!” Y/N sang to herself.

Outside the apartment building, the bustling streets of Brooklyn continued through the night. New York never slept. Outside her room, however, light streamed from beneath her bedroom door as her parents conversed about their day as they cleaned up and prepared for the next day.

Y/N spun in her chair, pushing away from her white desk and overlooked her room. Describing it as a mess was an understatement. It was a Sunday night, and tomorrow began her first day of school. Only it was her first day at the prestigious boarding school known as “Brooklyn School of Science.” If anyone asked her, she wasn’t scared to go - she just didn’t want to. The truth was, she was scared.

None of her friends were going - which is a lot considering she felt as though she were friends with all of Brooklyn. She felt intimidated to be surrounded by her soon-to-be classmates. Y/N didn’t mean to prematurely judge anyone, she swore she didn’t, but it was hard not to think about how many students got into the school by paying the full tuition and those who got into the school through the placement test. She couldn’t shake the thought that the former was the majority of the population.

Scattered across her floor were shirts, jeans, bras, and other articles of clothing that she practically vomited onto her floor from her dresser and closet to “layout her options” - as she told her mother after being scolded - for what to bring to school that week. An hour or so ago, an earthquake spread across the city of New York and did nothing to help her already disastrous bedroom.

It wasn’t long after nine, and Y/N didn’t feel like feeling her suitcase or backpack. Instead, she pulled her headphones onto her neck with her music continuing to play faintly. She placed her phone onto her desk and walked out of her room and through the hallway leading into the kitchen. The lights were off, but her eyes landed on her parents sitting on the couch and watching the news. Y/N’s mother turned to face her.

“Baby, what are you still doing awake? You have school tomorrow.” Y/N’s mother asked.

“Momma, my hand hurts.” Y/N motioned toward the swollen and reddening spot just below her knuckles. “What are you watching?” Y/N took a step forward to see the TV better. On the flat screen was a well-known reporter, Grace Falon, sitting in all her professional beauty in front of New York News’ camera.

“Breaking News ahead, New York. Just as of a few hours ago, Spider-Man - also known as his true identity Peter Parker - was found dead in an abandoned warehouse just outside of The Bronx. After the earthquake, Police say that a surge of power was reported from locals and when investigated, they found the dead body of the 26-year-old male. It’s a sad night for the city of New York, especially Queens. We send our regards to anyone who idolized him. Tomorrow, a community meeting in his honor will be held and hosted by no other than his wife, Mary Jane, at...”

The reporter’s voice trailed off in Y/N’s ears as she gazed at the images on the screen. There were two. One was a photo of Peter Parker in his Spider-Man suit, and the other was simply a portrait photo of the man himself. Her father sighed.

“I never liked that Spider-Man, you know. But it’s a shame to see him gone so soon.” His head turned toward Y/N’s mother’s figure as she walked toward Y/N.

“Come on,” Her mother urged, flipping the kitchen light’s switch and then walking toward the bathroom. Y/N followed. “I hate spiders.” Her mother said, rubbing ointment softly on the red bite. Y/N laughed softly. “Yeah, Momma, I know you-” She sucked in a breath through her teeth, pain rushing through her hand. It was only yesterday that Y/N walked through the door complaining about getting bit by a spider. Grabbing an ice pack from the freezer and letting it rest on the bump had helped for a while, but eventually, the stinging pain returned.

“Sorry, Baby. Go get some rest though, okay?” Y/N nodded at her mother. Her mother smiled down at her and kissed her cheek before giving her a light push towards her room.

“You finished packing, right, Y/N?” Her father yelled from the living room.

“Uhh, yeah! G’night!” She yelled back, slamming her door shut and pressing her back to the wood. Across the floor was still the spread out clothing, shoes, and other objects of hers that she planned on bringing. Y/N sighed, pushing her way through her mess and toward one of her windows. After grabbing her phone, she slid the glass upward and climbed out onto her fire escape, looking out at the city beneath her.

As a child, Y/N was always scared of this balcony. Her apartment was four stories up, and for some reason, she always thought she’d fall to her death. Her mother had assured her that no matter what, she’d still be there to catch her. The distant sound of honking horns flooded her ears, a sound she was used to yet didn’t quite love. Leaning against the right side of the balcony, she closed her eyes, let the breeze flow through her hair, and thought about what was to come.

The abrupt sound of a closer, louder horn startled Y/N. She yelped, jumped, and fell backward off the balcony. A scream escaped her lips for just a moment as the thought of death filled her mind. Was she really going to die because she was so clumsy that she fell off her own balcony? The fall was fast, incredibly fast, before she felt herself stabilize on a surface,

Only, she was looking straight up at the moon. Y/N wasn’t looking up, though. She was looking straight. Fear and adrenaline raced through her veins. She looked at her feet and noticed they were on a balcony lower than hers.

But she wasn’t on the floor on the balcony, she was standing on the side of it.

Y/N began to hyperventilate. She was panicking, her entire body stiff with fear. How the hell was she not plummetting to the ground right now? She wasn’t obeying any law of gravity, and it terrified her.

“Think, think, think.” She whispered to herself, careful as to not wake any of the lower-level residents. If anyone saw her like this, she didn’t know what she would do. Looking in all directions, she looked for a way to get back to her room. She had fallen on the side of the balcony where the ladder wasn’t, so she needed to find a way to get to the other side of the brick wall. But it was impossible to climb up a wall, right? You’d have to be Spider-Man to do that. And Spider-Man was dead.

No matter what the facts were, she had to try something. Y/N couldn’t call for help or wait for this phenomenon to run its course. With that thought in mind, she lightly pulled on her right leg.

Nothing.

She pulled harder, then tried the other leg, but it appeared as though she was glued to the metal. With her heart-rate off the charts, and her mind buzzing with fear and questions to no one in particular, she tried her hardest to focus. Y/N thought back to the Spider-Man comics her obsessed friends would show her during their chill sessions. She felt as though she knew how to get out of this predicament, she just needed to think hard enough.

Relax. She had to relax.

In the softest and quietest voice she could muster, she began to whisper-sing.

“Summertime is meant to fall in love, I could fall asleep and stare in your eyes. You’re right by my side.”

After attempting to lift her leg again, she could feel herself begin to unstick. Panic flashed through her, she hoped she didn’t fall again, but she continued to sing in hopes to keep herself calm. Slowly but surely, she made herself off the balcony and instead onto the brick wall. Y/N inhaled quietly and placed her hands onto the wall, swiftly turning her body so that she was facing the ground far below.

Y/N could almost feel her pupils dilating. She was beyond scared, but still, she continued to sing to keep herself calm and walk down the wall.

“Summertime is meant to fall in love, I wrote you a poem for your surprise, it’s right by your side.”

Her voice trembled, but she found herself gaining more control over her sticking. She was able to unstick her hands from the wall but kept her legs sticking every time her shoe hit the wall. More than once, she wondered if this were a dream. How could she possibly be walking down a wall right now?

When she finally reached the ground, she had stopped singing and gasped, looking up at her own balcony as her bedroom lamp light flooded out the open window and onto the metal fire escape. Her original plan was to go back up to her room, go to sleep, and try and forget any of this happened. However, she found herself walking away from her apartment building and down the street. She looked something up on her phone quickly before stuffing it in her pocket. Y/N was heading straight for Calvary Cemetary in Queens.

Where Peter Parker was buried.

Meanwhile, Peter was alive, but Peter was also dead.

Not only was Peter beyond puzzled, but he also was heart-racingly scared. He yearned for help, but he had nowhere to go. After seeing the news lady say that he was killed in an abandoned warehouse, he frantically looked around in search of anything familiar. It was clear he was in Times Square. He was standing on the corner of a sidewalk as a swarm of people continuously pushed past him to get to where they were going.

“Think, think, think,” Peter whispered to himself. He grabbed his phone. It was twenty after nine, not terribly long after he thinks he was sucked into that black hole. Or wormhole. Or vortex. Or vacuum of space. Or whatever brought him here. Wherever he was. He tried calling Tony, but then he thought against it and hung up. If the call went through, which it probably wouldn’t now that he thought about it, even if he was alive he was supposedly dead. It was unlikely that he was in the same world he was before, as Spider-Man dying seems to have just happened. If he were in a different year, or if he had “died” in the suction-hole-thingy, then everyone would have already moved past his death, and it wouldn’t be on the news. All of that made sense, which could only mean one thing.

Peter Parker was sucked into a different dimension.

Adrenaline rushed through his body, and he felt goosebumps appear on his arms. The theory was insane but simultaneously made perfect sense. It was mad, and terrifying, but exhilarating and completely opened new doors to what really was happened every time Peter made even a simple choice. Despite his excitement, he needed to question Quantum Physics and space-time singularity later. He was still an odd-ball out in the sea of people as he stood in his Spider-Man suit, but he had no other clothes, and only a few people glanced at him for longer than usual.

“Um, okay,” He began to speak to himself quietly. Still, no one bothered to take a second glace at the teenage boy dressed as Spider-Man talking to himself in the middle of the night. “Where do I go to get home?” He asked himself. Tired of pacing, he began to walk in a direction he wasn’t quite sure of yet. After a few minutes of walking, snow began to fall. That freaked Peter out. It was almost summer. How could snow be falling?

He decided not to question anything anymore. At this point, anything was possible.

“I got it!” He snapped his fingers and smiled. That was what got his strange looks, but Peter ignored them. He could go to his own grave. Maybe there were people there who could let him know more about how he, or Peter, or whatever - he couldn’t figure out who exactly was who - died. There had to be some sort of reason - or correlation - to his death and his, for lack of a better term, new-found birth into this dimension.

Just as Peter was going to shoot a web to a building, he cursed and stopped himself. He couldn’t just go swinging around as Spider-Man anymore. There were too many people, and he had to keep in mind that he was dead. Or supposed to be, at least. And so, after asking a couple passerby’s, he found out where he was and headed for Calvary Cemetary.

Needless to say, the journey was cold. By the time he arrived, it was just after ten. Peter looked up at the gate’s sign that read the cemetery’s name. The snow had been falling for over an hour now, and it covered the ground. Thankfully, his suit had a heater. Peter missed Mr. Stark. He missed Aunt May and Ned. He missed Happy, and he missed his bed. Peter’s eyes began to water, but he swallowed the saliva building up in his mouth and moved forward.

It was mostly silent. Only the sound of his feet hitting the snow and the distant sounds of cars and liveliness of New York City echoed in his ears. That is, until, he heard a voice.

“I don’t know if you gave me whatever it is I have, or if this happened to you, too. But I-- I’m really scared, Spider-Man. So if you could just, I don’t know.” Peter realized the voice was a girl’s. Quiet, but his enhanced hearing could pick up every word. He walked toward her crouched figure and wondered why she was sitting in the snow all alone. He wondered what she was talking about, but as his hand reached out to touch her shoulder, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up and his spider senses spazzed.

“Hey-” Peter started, but was interrupted by her scream. He screamed back in response. The girl pushed him away, and his body fell to the floor as he jittered.

She sent an electric shock through his entire body, and that was the last Peter saw before he became unconscious.

taglist: @romance-geek

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