#i did not draw half as bad but the student thought the spidey sense was like. ironspider arms. i am never drawing that i promise buddy

[pbnmj]

had this almost exact exchange with a kid in my homeroom today and was so enamoured by the fact that a student was ready to dunk on spider-man like he existed in real like that i inflicted it onto pete

[snakebites-22]

Heylo! I saw that you were asking for requests, and I have one if you want to write it! What if the reader is always drawing on the boards after school, and students don’t know who does it, and one day Peter catches her drawing? Idk, I kinda liked the idea! I love your writing hun!!🥰💕❤️

Peter Parker and The Dry Erase Board Artist

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A/N: And here it is! Almost a whole month after I said I would have it done! I am so so so sorry for how long this took and also sorry for how shitty it also is. I hope you enjoy this trash fire that I just spent almost 4 hours on and finished at 1 am. Oh, I also made this gender neutral using they/them pronouns. 

Warnings: uh language, slight death threat?, stupid teachers, numbers, fluff ig, idrk 

Word Count: 2279

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: There’s a new mystery in Midtown, and it’s the creator of the dry erase board drawings. Peter is desperate to find out who it is even if it means losing sleep and missing assignments. What will it take to find out who this secret artist is?

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Peter knew all about mysteries. He used to stay up too late reading those mystery novels by flashlight when he should have been sleeping. He grew up loving them. The amount of times May would walk into the living room to see him once again binge watching Scooby Doo was uncountable. Even now, he prided himself on being one of the biggest mysteries in New York: Spider-Man. He had to hold back a grin whenever he heard people discuss who the masked hero could possibly be. The craziest one so far was that Spider-Man was actually an alien being used by the government. He wasn’t sure who came up with that one, but props to them for their creativity.

He just absolutely loved mysteries of all shapes and sizes, and now, he had a new one to solve: the drawings. He called it Operation Dry Erase Board, and yes, the name did need improvement. Both MJ and Ned made sure to tell him that every single time he brought it up. Ned had suggested The Search for the Hidden Artist, which MJ just said sounded even worse. 

It had started a couple weeks ago. He had walked into his first period calculus class to see everyone whispering and taking pictures of the board. His first reaction was panic － his teacher was prone to surprise pop quizzes － but it soon turned to awe as he stared at the array of color across the board. It was a beautifully detailed portrait of the sea. He gazed upon the scene of manta rays and fish and even the silhouette of a shark. There was coral and shells of every color, and the lines and swirls of blue captivated him.There was no signature. Nobody knew who had done it. 

At first, Peter just tried to brush it off. There was somebody in the school who was skilled with dry erase board markers and was very artistically gifted. Not the biggest deal, but good for them. It became a bigger deal when the next day a gorgeous rendition of Starry Night was covering the board of the biology classroom. Once again, no signature. That’s when Peter started to become invested. 

He questioned MJ first. She was one of the only artists he knew, but she just scoffed. “I’m good, but dry erase markers are shit for me to work with.” 

He started paying more attention in art class, looking for anyone with a similar style. Nothing. Everyone was your typical high school artist who was just there for the credits, meaning people like him. Don’t ask about how designing the first spidey suit went.

 The drawings just kept coming. He soon saw space, dinosaurs, a jungle, The Mona Lisa, even each of the Avengers all spread across the dry erase boards. Each one of these was so beautiful and so alluring that it made his eyes sting and shouts of protest to erupt from the students when the teachers had to erase them. Even if they didn’t erase them, they were gone the next day. Whether it was the Hidden Artist or the janitor, Peter didn’t know. It was just another part in the mystery.

A lot of the drawings weren’t done in any classrooms that Peter had, meaning he would have to take field trips during his lunch period to go and find them. Most of the time he already knew where he was going. There was now a whole Instagram page dedicated to the art. It was run by Daphne, who was in both Yearbook and the Art Club. He had asked her if it was her, but she had just giggled and said she was a fan. Honestly, Peter was too. 

He would stare at the art for as long as he could each time he saw it, and he stared at the pictures he took of them even longer. He was consumed by the art, by his love for it. He needed to find out who the artist was, but unfortunately for him it would have to wait. He was so preoccupied with being Spider-Man and now also being a shitty detective that he was falling behind on both his work and his sleep. He had now fallen asleep a total of five times over the course of a week and a half, and he was close to failing both AP Government and Spanish, simply because he wasn’t catching up on his workload. 

Now, he was passed out in AP Lang, the one class that everyone knew not to fall asleep in. He couldn’t help it. He was running on a total of 4 hours for the week, and it was a Thursday. Not even his spidey sense could have prepared him for the crash of a ruler against a metal trash can right next to his ear. After nearly falling out of his chair and almost decking his teacher, Peter was given two weeks’ worth of detentions. 

“Hopefully that’ll teach young Mr. Parker here to pay attention instead of dozing off in the middle of class. Maybe he’ll catch up on his missing assignments, too. Speaking of, would you like to tell the class which rhetorical devices you’ll be utilizing in your essay, Mr. Parker?” All Peter could do is stare back at his teacher, horror written over his face. 

————————

It was 3:30 on a Wednesday, and Peter was losing his mind. Each of his detentions were an hour and a half long, lasting from 3:15 to 4:45. He had managed to catch himself up on his work and raise his grades a bit, but that didn’t change his predicament. He couldn’t go home or skip detention, meaning he was stuck at school for another hour and fifteen minutes. When he asked if he could do something, he was told he could go help the janitor. With a sigh, he got up and went in search of the janitor’s closet. 

During the time spanning over his punishment, he had nearly forgotten about his obsession with the Hidden Artist. Of course he still saw and heard about the drawings and he would still stare when he saw them, but now with the need to focus on his assignments being drilled into his brain every day on top of trying to stop bad guys each night, he was forced to move on. He didn’t want to. God, if he had the chance he’d stare at those drawings for hours on end, but he didn’t have that chance. It fucking sucked. 

After a couple minutes of searching, he finally found the closet. He grabbed a broom and looked around, and to his left, there was a classroom with the door slightly open. With a heavy sigh, he walked towards the room and pushed the door open, only to stop dead. There, across the room, was a brand new drawing, and it was a drawing of him. Not him him, of course, but a drawing of Spider-Man. It was a drawing of an event he recognized from yesterday when he had walked a lost kid back to their parents. The drawing showed him crouched down in front of the kid who was crying, and he had his hand out as an offer for the child to take it. 

Upon closer inspection, the drawing seemed incomplete. There were too many white spaces which wasn’t the artist's style. As he stepped closer to it, he heard the door creak and a gasp behind him. He spun around, nearly falling over in the process, and looked up wildly. His eyebrows furrowed when he saw Y/n L/n, a student in his grade. They stared back at him with wide eyes. 

“Did...did you do this?” Peter asked slowly. Y/n hesitantly nodded. 

“If you tell anyone about this, Parker, you’re dead.” 

He was slightly taken aback by this. Not the death threat, necessarily, he got those all the time, but it was a bit of a surprise coming from Y/n.

“I won’t. I promise,” he said softly. 

Y/n nodded slightly before striding towards the board and taking out a marker, beginning to fill in all of the white spaces Peter had noticed earlier. 

After a moment, Peter asked, “How do you do it?”

Y/n turned towards him, black marker clutched in their hand. “What?”

“The drawings. They’re so beautiful...I didn’t even know you could draw like that.”

“Everyone has their secrets, Parker. I’m sure you have yours.” 

Peter almost laughed at that, because yeah, he did, and Y/n was drawing it across the Physics dry erase board. But he didn’t laugh. He just smiled a little and kept watching, forgetting all about the broom that was now leaning against a desk.

“So...Spider-Man huh?” 

Y/n sighed and turned to him. “Why are you still here? Shouldn’t you be sweeping or something?” 

Peter shrugged. “Or something. Look, this is probably gonna sound super weird, but I’ve been trying to figure out who you were for weeks. Your art is super amazing and cool and I just wanted to know so badly who was talented enough to pull it off. And now I know.”

“Are you disappointed?” It wasn’t a question out of fear, but more out of curiosity. Y/n sat themselves on a desk and waited for the answer. 

“I don’t think so,” Peter said. “This was just unexpected, I guess. I didn’t even consider you for a suspect.” Y/n chuckled at this. 

“Nobody suspects me. That’s the fun part of all of this, actually. Did you know people actually thought that it was Ms. Rosemary for a while?”

“The crazy teacher’s aid?”

“Yup. The theory, I think, was that she was so crazy that art became like her therapy or escape or whatever. I mean, it can be like therapy, but I think Rosemary needs a little more than some doodles in order to help her.”

“These aren’t just ‘some doodles,’ Y/n. They’re-”

“Beautiful. Yeah, you’ve said.” They shrugged. “It’s just scribbles on a board, Parker. Scribbles that, for whatever reason, make our brains happy.”

Peter didn’t really have a response to that, so instead he just watched as Y/n went back to work. 

————————

That was how he would spend his detentions. He would offer to go help the janitor, and then he would run around the school trying to find Y/n. Eventually, on the days where the drawings took less time to create, Y/n started to try to teach him how to draw. Basic things at first, like flowers or trying to break things down into their simpler shapes. He could barely do either of those things, but he enjoyed trying anyways. On other days, Peter would just sit and watch in silence as they drew. It was mesmerizing, and only he got to witness it. 

It became their thing. Even after detentions ended, Peter would stay after school for an hour or so just to go hang out with Y/n. They would have snacks and play music and have a good time. Peter learned that Y/n stayed after school since their parents were never home until the late evenings, so they stayed back just for the hell of it. He also learned that they were good friends with the janitor and that his name was Roger. He was the reason that they were even able to stay for as long as they did. It was pretty cool. 

It was a Friday, and Peter was spinning around in the teacher’s chair while Y/n drew a forest scene. Peter watched them for a while, a small smile on his face. They were also so concentrated when they worked, their eyes narrowing and jaw tightening as they drew the different lines and curves that made up the masterpiece. Unbeknownst to Y/n, Peter had a surprise for them. 

“Hey, N/n?” Peter asked. All he got was a hum in response. He rolled his eyes. “Come here.”

Y/n sighed and got off of the stool that they had been sitting on. “What do you want, Pete?” they asked as they strolled over, leaning over the desk when they got close enough. In response, Peter held up a small, wrapped up bundle. Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed as they picked it up. 

“What-”

“Shhhh!” Peter said with a soft giggle. “Just open it.”

Y/n narrowed their eyes at him before slowly tearing the paper away. They smiled softly as they stared at the multipack of dry erase markers, enough colors to make practically any drawing that happened to cross their mind. 

“Why?”

“A simple thank you would have sufficed. It’s an appreciation gift for all of your art. I figured by now you’ve probably killed most of the markers in the school, so I got you some new ones.”

Y/n chuckled a little and looked at him. “Thank you.”

“Of course. You deserve it.”

“I literally just make colored lines one a board.”

“And I appreciate those colored lines! They give me serotonin as do you.”

“I give you serotonin?”

“Yes.”

Y/n blinked in surprise. “Alright then...you also give me serotonin.”

“Really? Awesome.”

They both laughed for a moment, Y/n glancing back down at the markers as Peter continued to look at them.  

“Hey, Pete?” Y/n asked as they looked back up at him. “What?”

“Would you...would you like to continue to provide me with serotonin and go out with me?”

Peter’s eyes widened in surprise, but soon it was his smile that was widening instead. 

“Absolutely.”

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Tagging:  @tommysparker @bebbeb @stixnstripesworld @orowit @dreamerinthesun @ididntseeurbag @bruhelpimgay @yikes-n-bikes @becausewhatiam-iswhatimnot @thespydersargon @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @th0ttie4tommy

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

"we can work together. we can help each other." high school starker

do the thing - send in all the prompts. 

thanks for this one, nonnie - I love high school AUs! 

After figuring out the extent of his powers, Peter knew two things �� one, he’d never be able to go out for football, and two, he needed to use his powers for good. The first fact felt like the ultimate bummer – what good was super strength if he couldn’t use it to boost his social status? Because, if we’re being honest, Peter didn’t have the greatest time amongst his peers in the halls of Midtown Science and Tech. Despite being surrounded by a school of people with higher levels of intelligence, Peter still fell pretty far down the loser ladder.

The second realization, well – he wasn’t too upset about that. After the first couple of times interacting with the criminals around Queens, it felt good to be a presence that kept mischief away. In his makeshift suit, he felt cool – and if the people who taunted and made fun of him could only see him in action, he knew their opinion would change.

Even low-level heroes didn’t get themselves into potentially dangerous situations for the notoriety, though – Peter wore a mask specifically so people didn’t know who he was. There’d been enough drama in his life up until this point, it didn’t make sense to invite more of it onto his doorstep. So – he tolerated being an outcast in the halls at school because Peter knew his own potential, he understood that even the little things he did to protect the people saved lives – and he supposed that’s really all that mattered.

At least, it felt that way until a new kid started to walk the halls halfway through junior year. Midtown didn’t get a lot of new students, so the guy was the talk of the halls for a while – his ‘I don’t give a shit’ attitude was hard to ignore. On top of the superior intelligence, the new kid had all of the ingredients to be one of the chosen ones. Instead, he kept to himself – which if he were being honest with himself, Peter found a little odd.

Not that he had any room to talk – he’d been watching the boy in the hall for the last couple of months, trying to decide what his deal was, but never actually speaking to him. Their lockers were only five down from each other (Peter would be remiss to admit that yes, yes indeed, he did count) and there’s been more than a few opportunities to turn his head and simply say hello. Yet, he’s never taken any of them. For the most part, Peter enjoyed watching from afar, doing his best to understand with only half the facts.

Arriving late to Italian one Monday, Peter was shocked to see that the only place that did not have an ass in the seat was located right next to the new kid. Peter did his best to not be noticed when he stumbled in, his brow still a little sweaty from the chase he’d been in not even thirty minutes previously. He managed to get the guy webbed to the side of a building and an anonymous call in to the police before school started – but he missed the train, which seemed like the ultimate irony.

They were already halfway through the class period, so he spent time looking around the room, instead – and by looking around the room, that meant turning his head away from Tony whenever the boy caught him staring. When they were given time for conversation partners, Peter turned toward the other cautiously, his head tilted. “I’m Peter,” he started, his mouth working faster than the filter his brain was still trying to put into place.

A solid laugh from the other relieved a little bit of the tension in his chest – the tiniest hint of a smile slipping across his cheeks. “I know. I’m Tony – Tony Stark,” the other answered, the new kid finally attached to a name – a suave and debonair name to go with the mystery the guy was shrouded in. “You can’t speak Italian for shit, but you’re really good at Chemistry.”

Peter probably looked like a fish out of water, his lips gapping. It wasn’t often that Peter was the one being observed and from the fresh set of details Tony just dropped, it seemed like the tables were slowly being turned on him. He didn’t get to say anything else, though, their brief time to communicate cut short when the bell rang.

He didn’t see Tony again until he needed to work on his newest version of the web fluid – his old stuff just not doing the trick the way he needed it to. He needed to change the viscosity of it and knew the exact place in the formula to do it. Without thought, he wandered into the open Chemistry lab, his Spidey senses tingling a second before he noticed another human’s presence – the inky dark hair of none other than Tony Stark drawing his attention almost immediately.

No one said anything, in fact – Tony didn’t even look up. His hand flew across the piece of paper on the table below him, his brain obviously working a mile a minute. He could do the ignoring thing, too – and went about grabbing all of the things he needed to start working on the web fluid and got to it.

His head only turned every couple of minutes to look in the other’s direction.

Finally at the point where the reaction was starting to come together, Peter let out a shriek of embarrassment when the beaker started to bubble – his hand almost immediately stuck to the desk. “Oh, shit,” Peter mumbled, his free hand moving out of the way of the rogue solution, the idea of having both hands stuck to the desk more obscene than the current situation.

The rustle of papers and then feet brought Tony’s proximity to his attention – the boy standing in front of him, a huge smirk on his face. “Are you stuck to the table? What the hell is that stuff?” Tony immediately dove in, the questions coming out at an aggressive pace. His sepia eyes were wide, the boy tilting his head to get a better look at the piece of paper on the desk.

“Web fluid?” Tony asked, his tone curious. They caught glances and for the first time since meeting him, Peter understood how truly smart Tony Stark was. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes and then his hands were pulling his phone out and typing furiously on the screen.

“This is you, isn’t it?” Peter grimaced when he saw the video Tony pulled up on YouTube, his latest swing through the middle of the city playing in front of him. His stomach swam a bit, cheeks coloring.

“Uh – no. That’s just bull shit computer generation, right?” Peter replied, the words coming out of his mouth sounding a little weak, a sort of resignation already there. 

Tony was too smart for his own good and soon, another video was being played for him, this one showing the very chemical reaction he’d been trying to duplicate on the desk in front of him - his patented webbing the bad guy to a building coming back to bite him in the ass. 

“That’s totally you. That stuff is genius, Pete. I had Jarvis get his hands on some of the stuff from my dad’s lab – you created something that could serve a lot of purposes.” Tony kept talking, but Peter tuned him out after the uttered ‘from my dad’s lab’.

Choking, Peter suddenly realized why Tony’s last name sounded so familiar. Stark Industries was just on the tv for their newest energy saving development – he remembered saving the link to the article he looked up later to read through the next time he was bored.

Oh shit.

“Your dad’s lab – shit, Tony. You can’t tell anyone about this. Not that there’s anything to tell – but especially not your dad,” Peter babbled his brain forgetting for a second that he was still stuck to the table as he tried to pull away. “Please,” Peter mumbled, the flush in his cheeks getting worse by the second.

Tony didn’t reply for a second, his attention having moved to the piece of paper in front of him. He pulled a pen from behind his ear and worked out a few things, the scribbles from earlier back once again with a vengeance. He fucked around with a few of the chemicals on the table and measured everything out until he was looking at the beaker triumphantly.

“I’m not going to tell anyone. I want to help you,” Tony finally remarked, the boy pouring the liquid in the beaker onto the mess holding Peter to the table. Within a few seconds, the web fluid was loosening, allowing Peter to pull his hand free.

Looking at him speculatively, Peter raised a brow – apprehension tangible in the air between them. “Help me? How could you help me?”

Tony grinned, nimble fingers replacing the pen behind his ear. “Hear me out. We can work together. We can help each other. I have access to materials that could put this stuff to shame. I’ll help you with your gadgets and you teach me how to fight back, how to be brave." Though the words weren’t said with anything but confidence, Peter noticed the small falter, Tony’s weakness peeking through the cracks ever so slightly.

Peter pulled in a big sigh, his brain already saying yes, the idea of having help, of having someone who knew – it was too much of a siren call to resist.

“Fine – but you tell no one. Got it?” Peter demanded, his tone as forceful and assertive as he could make it.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Peter – I mean, Spider-Man,” Tony got out, the correction making his cheeks crinkle with a full faced smile.

[thecreativeangel]

aut neca aut necare: VI

Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

*Please don’t plagiarize my work, thank you :3*

Summary: You try once more to apologize to Peter (not successfully) and Spiderman thinks it’s a good idea to bring up your family. 

Warnings: A hoe needs D E P R E S S O

Words: 3.1k wow i need a life

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“Hi Peter. Sorry I got in a completely meaningless fight with you and brought up the death of your parents. We're cool, right?”

Yeah, that wasn't going to pass. You stared with half bleary eyes at the phone in your hand, a paragraph long text message highlighted in blue, about to be deleted. This was the fifth…sixth? Sixth attempt at an astounding apology that would make Peter so emotional he’d forgive you in an instant. So far, everything you wrote turned out to be shit. Every text was too long, too pathetic and clingy. And it became apparent to you that as of recently, your texts to Peter had to be perfect. Even before the fight you’d been double checking the spelling, triple checking to make sure there weren’t too many emojis.

Is adding a period too formal? Too strict? And yes, you knew very well why you were acting like this but refused to say it out loud.

After huffing through your nose, you pressed delete and half an hour’s worth of typing was gone. The sound of heavy boats cutting through water was really helping right then, to calm nerves and such. You closed your eyes and dangled your feet over the side of the warehouse. The tracker you'd put on one of Kim’s “henchmen” (could a high school student really have henchmen?) had been still for two hours now, and the video you could get on your phone was of the spider-tracker crawling up and down a man’s pant leg. The doors were locked. The live feed was silent, save for the man pacing; he was alone.

A boat horn rang through the night air, startling a cat that was sleeping on the fence down below. That reminds me, you thought. Haven't gone to Delmar’s in a while. Your phone screen’s light illuminated your face, the blank text box ever present. Okay, go simple. Don't be a dumbass. Straight to the point. I've got this. Your fingers moved nimbly by themselves, typing out the shortest thing you could think of.

“‘I'm sorry’ isn't enough right now, I know. See you at school.”

You hit send and watched the text until “delivered” appeared in small blue letters right below. Was that too up front? Probably. Was he going to forgive you because of one text, no matter how long? No. Never. You looked up at the stars and sighed, feeling a cold gust of wind flow past your cheeks. With the mask off, details about your surroundings were more clear. Everything was in high definition, but that made it hard to focus. Spidey was right; your senses were dialed up to 11, too much input and not enough capacity for storage.

Looking back down at your phone, you saw that “delivered” had changed to “read”.

Peter already saw what you wrote. He didn't bother to reply.

You made a high pitched scream at the back of your throat, frustration and shame warming your cold cheeks. I’m an idiot! Of course he still hates me- I brought up his fucking dead parents! I was the first person he opened up to after they died, and now I’ve gone and fucked up. You kicked your legs over the side of the warehouse and laid spread angled on the tin roof. This was the warehouse you’d been visiting for a few days now. Almost a week. It was only half a mile from where you saw the tall grey alien talk to Kimberly and her bosses. Sure, you should be more careful than texting while hunting down dangerous criminals, but after a few days of spending nightly hours on the roof, it had grown boring. Tame. The giant garage door was locked and from a tiny crack in the wall you only saw a giant, empty warehouse.

You were close to giving up when a car pulled into the alley on your side of the roof. A boy stepped out, loudly smacking on gum and locking the car equally loudly. Still laying down, you peeked over the side of the roof. He, a younger kid, by the sound of it, was with a girl. She talked quickly, nervously. A lazy grin slid across your face; Kimberly was never good at whispering.

“Spit that shit out before I make you,” she finally snapped. You heard a “whooey” sound and a wet splat, meaning he did as told.

“It calms me down,” he explained serenely, as if appeasing a toddler. “Maybe you should try it, since you’re so worked up. Maybe you’ll stop annoying dad all the time.”

The garage doors slid up, rumbling so badly you felt the tremors in your entire body. Their voices faded and before they did, you heard Kimberly retort: “Dad likes me better anyway.” So that’s Kim’s brother? The three menacing, scary hooded figures that talked to the grey alien were a...family? SERIOUSLY?

“Hey,” a voice hissed, poking your shoulder. On reflex, you blindly grabbed (an...arm?) and threw them away, fully prepared to then launch yourself at the target because if they wanted to fight then-

“Ow, what the fuck!” Spidey gasped, holding his bruised bicep.

“Shit- don’t sneak up on me like that!” you cried.

“Why-” he seemed to wince, rubbing the sore spot. “D’you always try an’ kill people when they do that?!”

“Well I was kind of in the middle of something!” you argued, glancing nervously over the ledge at the half dozen parked vans. “Friggin’ intense bad guy shit was happening and you just sneak up on me outta nowhere…”

“What’s intense is your grip,” Spidey murmured, rolling his shoulder. “Is that ‘cause of your powers or are you a gym rat?”

“Okay Mr. ‘I Can Stop A Moving Train’,” you said, putting a hand on your hip. "Not everyone knows how to control their strength.”

He snickered and plopped down on the ledge of the warehouse. “No seriously. Powers or its always been like that?”

“Uh…” you sat down next to him. “Powers I think. Dunno, I’ve always been able to slap a bitch who needs it.”

Spidey pouted under his mask. “Aww, am I your bitch?”

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from cackling. “Say that again, but slowly.”

“Am I y- oh,” he laughed awkwardly. “Whoops. Welp, guess this partnership is terminated. Nice knowing you, I’m going to go kill myself now.”

The boisterous laugh finally escaped your lips, all thoughts of Peter leaving your conscious. Spiderman made a gun with his hand, held it to the side of his head and jerked his thumb back as if pulling a trigger. “Now that my sidekick knows I’m an idiot, might as well drop being Spiderman, right?”

“Sidekick?” you managed to scoff between giggles. “Please. I’m the dominant one in this relationship.”

“Kinky.”

The tips of your ears suddenly felt hot. “S-shut up!”

Spidey laughed when you shoved his shoulder, rolling your eyes under your mask. “That’s not what I meant, dammit! I’m like the biggest virgin you’ll ever- Stop laughing!”

He kept doing so but somehow, you felt lighter than you’d been a few minutes ago. Free. Like a kid. Which was odd, because this was a nightly patrol and Kim was right below- “We need to get down there.”

The lighthearted aura was sucked from the air. “Huh?”

“I’m supposed to be down there! I was going to sneak in and- and now we’re talking about bullshit when we could be doing something!”

“Oh-kay crazy,” he dismissed you with a wave of his hand. “I called the police, they’ll be here in less than an hour. All we have to do is make sure they don’t leave the premises.”

You frowned inside your mask, thankful that it didn’t change to show facial expressions like his did. How could this superhero, especially one who was known to deviate from law enforcement, sit here and wait for people to do work for him? People who were defenseless unless they were armed with a weapon, no less. You impatiently tapped a gloved hand on your thigh, ears perking up to the muffled arguing that traveled up a nearby air vent.

“Go patrol the city,” Spidey suggested, tapping commands into the sensors on his wrist. “Better that than sitting here and doing nothing. I’ll call you if I need backu-”

“No way,” you said sternly. “I’m gonna kick their asses myself if they try to escape. Not leaving.”

“Don’t- you shouldn’t hurt them, they’re just doing their job,” he said finally, after at least five minutes of thick silence.

“They’re dangerous-”

“So are you,” he fired back. You drew away, fingers tightening around the ledge in surprise. He must have noticed the outburst was uncalled for because he released a shaky sigh. “So am I. We’re dangerous, you know that- right? Only difference between us and them is that we aren’t desperate enough to go into that line of work.”

You bristled at that. “That’s a damn big difference.”

“Not a hard line to cross, though,” Spidey noted, ceasing his tapping of instructions. “People do shit when they’re desperate. For money, for safety, for family…” he looked away from the skyline horizon and turned to you. “I’d do a lot for my family, more than I’d ever tell you about.”

“Well,” you said frankly. “That hurts a bit. Thanks, man.”

“You’ve been getting more...reckless,” he said, “The whole fiasco with the United Nations-”

“I told you that wasn’t me!”

Peter said the same thing, about the United Nations. About the little epic failure you achieved in one night. He was wrong, though; you were framed, it was synthetic smoke. Who was trying to make you Public Enemy #1? You didn’t know and it was killing you. Maybe I should tell Peter about this superhero gig. He could help me deal with it, I guess, you considered the notion. That’d be a huge chip off my shoulder. Too bad I was a complete dumbass and ruined the friendship with one stupid fucking offhand comment-

“Okay, say it wasn’t,” Spidey said patiently, drawing you out of the stream of furious thoughts. “But you stole from that jewelry store a while back.”

“I stopped a potential robbery!” you said defiantly. “He was an idiot for trying to steal at Fifth Avenue- who the hell does that? A-and I only took one little diamond-”

“‘One little diamond’?!”

“Whaaat?” you whined, looking down at your dangling legs guiltily.

“What would your parents think?” Spidey asked, probably expecting you to open up more. Probably raising an eyebrow under his stupid mask. Good luck with that, bud.

“Okay, okay,” you immediately dropped the playful tone. “I get it, that was bad. Let’s move on please.”

“No, c’mon,” he pressed. “Everyone thinks about their family when they do bad shit.”

Your lips were pursed in a thin line and you felt your head tilt in a small nod. He would get no other answer right away, but he sure did try. “Do you...not have a family?”

No response. “Shit, I’m sorry. I assumed-”

“I have a family,” you forced out, and it sounded so disgusting to say that you prayed you’d never have to say it again. Spiderman did this thing where he leaned forward and turned his upper body towards you, cocking his head down and waiting for a continuation. You huffed.

“It’s a complicated situation, webhead,” you lifted one leg onto the roof and pulled your knee to your chest, letting the other one dangle. “S’not a big family anyway, so at least it’s not completely out of hand.”

“Dead relative?”

You shook your head. “Single mom.”

“Oh,” his hand patted your shoulder, a surprisingly welcomed gesture. “My best friend’s got a single mom. They’re not very close, though.”

“Good for them,” you said flatly.

Spiderman shifted awkwardly. “So maybe don’t...steal jewelry? For your mom’s sake?”

He looked at you for a reaction, even a tiny nod, and got none. “You really hate talking about her, don’t you?”

“It’s not- ugh, I dunno,” you hung your head lower. “If I talk about my mum for another second I’d probably start on a whole rant ‘bout how she utterly failed as a parent and, despite technically being there my entire childhood, is constantly ignoring her responsibilities-”

You opened your mouth to continue but choked on the words, realizing that the conversation was 90% you oversharing. “Anyway she’s an okay mum or whatever. Hasn’t done anything that bad. Very average.”

How else were you to phrase it to someone you met so recently? “Very average” was giving her way too much credit but it wasn’t abuse...anymore. In the past two years she’d gone from hitting you for being a disappointment to not caring at all. She didn’t yell every week, she didn’t slap you upside the head or box your ears. She tried to do Mother/Daughter nights but they always ended with her screaming about kicking you out while you wiped away tears. Frankly it wasn’t “caring” as much as it was random fits of rage but- it wasn’t physical anymore. You didn’t have hand shaped bruises anymore, nor split lips. You still had to be careful around your mum ‘cause hell, who knew if she was having a bad day. Who knew what she’d do if she had a bad day. But despite the bad days...she was still your mum. She always apologized after a week or so, told you she hadn’t meant it.

Spiderman was nodded slowly. “You’ve...got a lot to say about your mom.”

“Trust me, that barely covered my opinion of her,” you grumbled. “But what the hell, right? Not like I know you,” your hands felt clammy and hot from frustration.

“Don’t look,” you warned him briskly.

“What?”

“I need some air, don’t look at me.” Your fingers grasped the bottom of your mask and began to tug up. Chilly night air tingled pleasantly wherever it touched, almost making you sigh out loud.

Spidey’s neck must have snapped with how quickly he looked away. “Are you crazy?! Why are you taking the mask o-”

“Relax, I’m just lifting it a little,” you bunched the mask up on the bridge of your nose, inhaling deeply for the cold, dry New York air. It rattled in your lungs yet you took another calming breath, glancing at Spiderman.

He was covering his eyes.

“You don’t have to-” your quiet laugh got his attention. “Don’t cover your eyes, dude. Jus’ don’t look at my face.”

“Uh, yeah,” he hesitantly took the hand from his face. “Gotta be cautious thought.”

“S’ just my mouth, Spiderboy,” you grinned at his awkward nature. “What- can’t handle seeing a girl’s lips?”

“Yes I have!”

You giggled at his voice crack. “Pretty sure you’ve a bigger virgin than I am.”

“I am not!”

“Oh yeah?” you quirked an eyebrow, knowing he couldn’t see it. “I’m making my ‘I-don’t-believe-you’ face, by the way. Seriously starting to doubt that you’re my age ‘cause…you act like a twelve year old. No offense.”

“I’m sixteen!” he defended and honestly, seeing him angrily wave his arms around without facing you was hilarious. And the suit sounded like it was frantically trying to adjust the voice modifier to his high pitched rambling. “I swear I’m sixteen, it’s fucking puberty-”

You put a hand up to silence him, smiling maniacally before pulling your mask over your chin again. “I kid, I kid. Mask is back down.”

If this were a cartoon there would have been steam shooting from his ears. Not like, angry steam. Flustered steam. Or maybe both. Either way, it was funny.

“I hate you,” he groused. “And my voice had to crack! God, that’s worse than when we met!”

A fresh bout of laughter erupted from thinking of that memory alone. Your cackles, once again muffled by the shitty mask, had to be stifled by biting down on the inside of your cheek.

“Pfft, ha! Oh-” you gagged on the words. “Oh that was fucking amazing! D’you- d’you remember when the kid was running-”

“Please no.”

“And you tried to grab him-”

“No, no you said you wouldn’t bring that up!”

“And he threw the bag of quarters at your dick! Ha!”

Spiderman groaned in agony. “Take the mask off so I can deck you.”

“Come at me scrub, I’m- shit,” your metal wristlet beeped, flashing the word “Urgent” in neon blue block letters. “Ah, damn. There’s a robbery near my place, gotta check that out,” owners of a small Korean place near Delmar’s are being threatened at gunpoint. You’d been there with Peter and Ned few times, and that made thought you somber again. “That’ll be a few minutes to get to.”

“You’ve gotta stop bugging the cameras,” Spidey said disapprovingly.

“Well some of us don’t have fancy Super-Conducting 4.2 Tera whatever to help us,” you answered snidely, projecting a small image of the restaurant's security camera view. “Fuck, you’ve got patrol too. Who’s gonna guard this shit?”

“I can stay here,” Spidey offered quickly. He’s not asking to swing me there? That’s...weird. Last time I checked he was the biggest Mom Friend I’ve ever met.

You paused at the ledge of the warehouse, eyes moving from the him to Queens in the distance and back again. “Are you sure?”

“Go!” he urged, shooing you away. “I can handle one night without a partner. S’ your chance to prove that you’re not evil.” You scoffed, wheeled around and raised your middle finger, falling backwards off the ledge with your arms spread like wings. Your body dissolving into a column of smoke seconds before hitting the ground. Spiderman didn’t call for backup that night and the ordeal was stopped with a few “magic tricks” of yours. The robber was easy to take down as he was stupid high and though you disappeared before they could say anything, you saw the restaurant owners talking to a local reporter with relieved expressions. You doubted the old couple would say anything bad, but being tentative never hurt anyone. Hopefully Spidey’s call sent a few officers to the warehouse.

Funny thing was: you hadn’t seen any police cars heading to the warehouse as you flew Queens. Not a single one.

A/N: idk why i got carried away with this. like on one hand...character background. on the other...character background that will cause some depressing shit vv soon

Tags:  @everythingthatisrandom, @mcheung0314,@spiderdudeparker, @lou-la-lou, @4-a-m, @miss-glitch, @runs-with-sciss0rs, @lubrielx, @kaitlynthehuman, @b-lyn-k, @hotsocke, @therealwatermelon, @shipping-the-unsinkable-ship, @vivideley, @rosieredcheeks 

[visionsofus]

Field Trips, Infinity Stones, and oh mY GOD IS THAT SPIDER-MAN?

CH1  |  CH2  | CH3  | CH4  | CH5  | CH6  |  AO3

|CHAPTER 7 ~ exhibits and explosions |

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

Things go boom

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

Peter stepped into the bustling cafeteria, the force of the heavy door that swung closed behind him ruffling his hair. He took a deep breath and after a quick scan of the room, identified Ned and MJ who were seated, luckily, at an empty table by the window. Determined to avoid the stares and whispers of the rest of his classmates, Peter walked swiftly in the direction of his friends. With each step he pushed the thoughts of the lab on Level 27 further and further from his mind. 

Peter was fairly familiar with the cafeteria on floor 7, having spent many a lunch time down here with some of the other interns. Conversations had often centred around the surprisingly good food that was served, bumps they had run into in their experimentation or complaints about the restrictions placed around their projects. Peter had found the cafeteria a fun and laid-back place to relax with the other interns in between research and experimentation. They'd often had dares going on such as who could sweat talk the cooks into giving them an extra serving or who could design a gadget that would raid the vending machines near the drink fountain.

Though Peter tried to keep his eyes to the ground as he walked swiftly over to Ned's table, he subconsciously took in his surroundings. He spotted Daniel over on one of the tables with some of the interns, his eyes trained on Peter in concern. Midtown took up three tables, but the rest were largely occupied by high school students like himself but wearing two different sets of uniform blazers. Peter didn't recognise either.

Peter shied away from the eyes of his classmates and anyone else who had looked up at his entrance. All their eyes made him antsy and he almost missed the quiet seclusion of the lab he had just been in. His lab… no, Peter corrected himself, no it wasn't.

'But you've always been enough'

Peter squirmed slightly as Mr Stark's words rang through his head as he walked through the tables.

The rest of the occupants of the cafeteria chatted on unbeknownst to the attention that Peter was getting as he tugged his backpack closer to his back. Though the iron spider suit had been fairly lightweight, he already found himself missing the assurance and comfort it had provided. Had he made the wrong choice? He cast the thought from his mind as he took a seat next to Ned and across from MJ.

Ned, oh so reliable Ned, had gotten Peter his serving of lunch already. Peter managed a small smile when he saw the food, Friday's had always been curry days at Stark Industries. It seemed some things never changed.

"Everything ok, Peter?" Ned said quietly, looking concerned.

"Not really." Peter said honestly, sighing as he picked up his spoon. "I'll tell you… sometime." Peter loved being able to share the superhero part of his world with Ned. But there were some things that he just couldn't explain in a way that Ned would truly understand. The bond he'd had with Mr Stark was one of those things.

"Alright, whatever you need just let me know." Ned said smiling warmly and putting an arm around Peter in a sort of half hug.

"Thanks buddy." Peter said, trying to smile. He didn't like how strained his voice sounded, as though he were about to fall apart all over again.

Peter swallowed and looked down at his curry, pushing it around his plate with the spoon. He'd always looked forward to the Fridays he'd spent at Stark Industries because they had usually turned into weekend trips that May hadn’t always been wholly in support of. May really didn’t like it when Peter missed school. Peter would spend the three days researching and experimenting and sleeping in the spare room in the private Stark quarters up on the floor below the CEO's office. He'd have dinners with Tony sometimes, and Pepper if she was free but other times it would just be him and Happy. Peter had fond memories of the time that Tony had tried to cook a lasagne for dinner and had ended up setting off the fire alarm and had to explain to Friday that there was no need to contact emergency services. Both Peter and Friday had been sworn to secrecy to never tell Pepper about the disaster evening.

Peter would spend the days learning as much as he could and always dreading the arrival of Sunday night which marked his return to his ordinary life as a high schooler. On rare occasions he would be able to convince May that his time at SI was a better for his future than classes were, and she'd let him take Monday off as well. Peter felt a lump forming in his throat and in the interests of preserving his dignity, he cast the memories to the side and focused on what he was eating.

Peter glanced up from his food as he caught Ned surreptitiously sliding an apple flavoured juice pouch over to his plate. Peter raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"Whattt." Ned said shrugging and zipping up his backpack which was under the table, not before Peter caught sight of four other identical juices. "They had them with the food, do you know how long it has been since I had one of these? I know you like them, you can't hide anything from me."

"Thanks." Peter said, managing a smile.

Peter unwrapped the straw and poked the juice pouch open, sniffing as he did. He should have stopped at a bathroom to grab some tissues and at least wash his face; all that crying had left his nose running and eyes sore. He sighed and sniffed again. He was tired but at least he was feeling a little hungry now, that was a good sign. With each mouthful of curry Peter tried to push the memories of Mr Stark further from his mind. He hoped that Karen wasn't angry with him for snapping at her and walking out of the lab like that. Could machines sulk? He wouldn't put it past her.

Peter sniffed again and rubbed at his eyes, scowling as he did so. It was so damn obvious that he had been crying.

Peter rested his cheek on one of his hands as he pushed the curry around his plate, taking a mouthful every now and then. Ned seemed to notice that Peter needed distracting and started to tell him about some of the intern's projects they had seen, including what Ned described as ‘mind-controlled drones’ - Peter wished that he'd had the chance to talk to the intern responsible for that project.

Peter listened to Ned's talking and nodded and made noises of agreement where it was appropriate. He let himself get lost in Ned's version of events of Flash being humiliated by one of the interns, a thrilling tale that Peter wished he had more energy to pay attention to.

MJ began fishing through her backpack, eventually pulling out her sketch book - the one that Peter had seen her use time and time again to sketch 'people in crisis' as she so liked to call it. Peter wondered how often he featured in it. Did she ever draw herself? Peter doubted it, MJ had always seemed so cool under pressure, he couldn’t imagine her ever reacting badly to a crisis. It did make him wonder how she had settled in after the Snap, he barely knew anything about her family or whether they had been dusted in the Decimation.

MJ discarded her notebook however and kept looking around in her bag, eventually pulling out a pack of tissues and throwing them at Peter. It wasn't the best of throws and would have gone well over his shoulder if it weren't for his Spidey senses. He caught the small plastic packet in two fingers and raised an eyebrow at her.

"You look like you need them." MJ said shrugging and opening her sketch book up.

"Thanks…?" Peter said and then turned to Ned to whisper, "Do I really look that bad?"

"It's not great." Ned said looking over Peter's face once.

"Great." Peter whispered, pulling a tissue out and dabbing at his nose. "I'm just going to the bathroom, I'll be right back."

"Sure thing." Ned said taking another bite of curry and craning his head to try and get a look at who MJ was sketching. She frowned and turned the sketch book further away from him[SF1] .

Peter slipped his hands into his pockets and ducked around tables and exiting the cafeteria quickly. He needed to splash his face with some water, maybe blow his nose and try and put himself back together again.

Once Peter was out in the corridor, he noticed a group of five students from one of the other high schools gathered outside the elevators. Two guys, three girls, all dressed in purple and green blazers. Peter thought about stopping but decided it was none of his business and continued onwards to the bathroom at the end of the corridor. Their visitor level clearance cards wouldn't get them anywhere anyways. Peter had already entered the bathroom before he could see Daniel join their entourage.

"Welcome to the 18th Level museum," Abigail said spreading her arms out behind her as the group entered the enormous space. "Stark Industries New York headquarters is the only one with such a display, it's one of a kind. For the next two hours you are going to be able to walk around the exhibits, look at our history and in groups of four we will be inviting you to test out some old models."

Abigail reached into her bag and pulled out a set of folded maps and began handing them out in bundles for the students to share amongst themselves. "These are maps to all the displays. The museum is divided into three spaces, in the south wing you will find the history of SI from Howard Stark until the present, the west wing holds most of our Avenger artefacts." excited murmurs broke out throughout the group.

"This space we are currently in is dedicated to the late Mr Stark's work post his accident in 2008. The actual replicas and models that you'll get the chance to experiment with are kept over that way," Abigail said gesturing to her right, past glass cases and information boards, "in the east wing."

The students had started chattering in excitement with several making a break from the group and drifting towards the east wing, hoping to be the first to try out some of the old prototypes.

"When we are done here you willbe required to walk through another detector so please do not try and remove any artefact from the museum as our AI system will immediately alert us and we will have to contact the authorities." Abigail said sternly but stepped aside to allow the eager students to rush forward and look at the exhibits.

Peter looked at Ned who had opened up his map and was struggling to decide where he wanted to go first.

"Where do you want to start?" Peter prompted, looking around the museum space and wondering how they were supposed to spend two hours here.

"I don't even know." Ned said shaking his head. From the excitement clear on Ned’s face it seemed that he would have no trouble finding ways to entertain himself.

"We could just start at the beginning." Peter shrugged, indicating the south wing which was home to the original history of SI. It seemed a safe enough place to start that hopefully wouldn't dredge up many memories for Peter.

"Good idea." Ned said nodding and started off in that direction.

Any other time and Peter probably would have enjoyed looking around the museum. He had heard about it but had never actually ventured to the 18th level himself. He wished that he could feel a little more engaged with the exhibits, but it was difficult considering the way his thoughts kept annoyingly returning to the lab ten floors above them. Peter found the best way to keep his mind off it all was to just not think about anything. He followed Ned around to each case, read the information on the boards but didn't really absorb any of it, and just let Ned go about his business. Sometimes Ned asked Peter questions, particularly when they arrived at the Avengers wing and Ned found a small case dedicated to Peter's own superhero alias.

"This is part of your first suit, right?" Ned asked, his voice hushed so that MJ, just a few feet away and reading about Black Widow’s bulletproof suit, didn’t hear them.

"Yep." Peter said sighing and looking at his deconstructed Spider-Man suit. He'd agreed to let Tony display some of his first designs as well as elements of the first prototype. As a rule, the museum didn't display any full suits that were in working condition because it was a security threat. Thus, the only parts of the suit that were displayed were some models of his web shooters and his old mask and eye goggles.

"Cool." Ned whispered and snapped a few photos, it made Peter smile. Ned had seen his suit before, and he’d seen the newer, better suit that Mr Stark had designed, yet this stuff still made him excited.

Peter followed Ned over to the huge case that held designs for Captain America's suit and shield. Peter's heartstrings were tugged at yet again as he thought of Steve Rogers. A couple of weeks earlier he had received a message from Sam Wilson, aka Falcon. Peter had sort of freaked out when he had gotten the email, wondering if he was being called in for a mission or worse, the message was actually spam. He'd had very few interactions with Falcon outside of battles and getting the message out of the blue made him worried. Instead it had been a mass email sent out to what appeared to be the rest of the Avengers (Peter had immediately saved their emails to his contacts) and detailed events that had taken place earlier that day when Steve had been sent back to return all the infinity stones to their appropriate places in history and had not returned. At least not in the same form he had left in.

"Wow Vibranium," Ned said, reading one of Cap's many information boards. "Do you have any of that?"

"I had a tiny, tiny bit to experiment with that Mr Stark had left over from remaking Cap's shield." Peter explained quietly, "But it's really, really difficult stuff to get and Wakanda is super careful about who they give it to."

"Damn." Ned said sighing. "I'd love to have a shield like that."

Peter laughed despite himself.

Once they had made it around to all the exhibits, Peter becoming very distant at the Iron Man exhibit and Ned had taken his fill of photos, they proceeded into the testing wing. By this time most of the other students had already had their turn so the line wasn't very long.

The prototypes weren't all that impressive once you had seen and experienced the real thing, Peter decided. They had two technicians helping the students to navigate the equipment. Each student had the opportunity to use a replica of Cap's shield, though it were far less impressive and seemed to actually obey the laws of physics, unlike the real thing. They could try on a replica of War Machine's helmet and interact with a bot to read and react to different situations that were presented in a sort of virtual reality environment. There were a few other pieces of equipment lying around but it seemed these two were the most highly sought after. The third item that the students were most keen to use was what shook Peter the most. It was a replica of one of Tony's suit - just the arm and there was no arc reactor powering the blasters - that melded to the arm and shifted as the wearer moved. Peter squirmed as each student tried it on, each looking more ridiculous than the last.

Peter scowled at Flash who had just stepped into the experimental space and immediately headed for the Iron Man arm. The tech helped him into it and Flash grinned as he moved his arm around and watched as the plates shifted with his movements. It was beginning to make Peter feel sick, the spectacle of it all. Here were a bunch of teenagers enjoying trying on different weapons. Though they were just replicas, it annoyed Peter to think that they were being used so carelessly when the real things belonged to people he knew and who put their lives on the line time and time again. Before Thanos, Peter might have found it amusing, he might have even stood a little taller knowing that he actually got to see the real things. But now… it made him feel sick.

Peter watched as Flash arrogantly raised his hand and looked towards the rest of the students as he obnoxiously mimicked a finger snap. Peter saw some of his classmates visibly flinch and Peter himself went stock still in shock. From what Peter had heard, finger snapping had taken on incredible connotations post the Decimation. People were afraid to snap their fingers and it became a sort of equivalent to the horrid 'go kill yourself/ kill me now' phrases that people had enjoyed lightly tossing around for a period back in 2017. Given that some of his classmates had lived through the Decimation, Peter wasn't surprised at their reactions after the way their lives had been turned upside down. It made Peter want to go up into the experimental space and punch Flash right in his stupid face.

For Peter it was different. The connotation of that motion shook him deep to his core, making him feel as though he were back on the battle field, watching Tony Stark die all over again. Peter's chest tightened and suddenly all the noises around him felt infinitely louder, the lights above and their ringing making him want to clap his hands over his ears and eyes. Even the sound of Flash moving his arm and hearing the metal plates clink sent Peter reeling. He smelt body odour in the air, mixing with deodorant and perfume and the potent smell of mint chewing gum that made his nose sting. Peter's vision began to blur, and he swallowed thickly as his heart rate quickened and his palms became clammy. He stumbled when a wave of dizziness hit, and he bumped into Ned.

"You ok?" Ned said grasping Peter's arm to support him.

"Yeah, I'll be ok." Peter said shying away from Ned's touch. "Just going to get some air I think."

Before Ned could offer to come with him Peter pushed through his classmates and made for the exit.

Peter left the museum space through the same door that they had come in and headed down the corridor towards a large window he had spotted earlier. He reached it quickly and took a seat, pressing his back against the smooth, cool concrete. He pulled his backpack off and set it in front of him, pulling out a pair of noise cancelling headphones and snapping them over his ears. Silence washed over Peter as he breathed deeply, crossing his legs out in front of him as he settled into the little outcropping beside the window.

The sensory overload was something Peter had gradually learnt to cope with better over the last few years. He'd come to accept it as just another part of the Spider-Man gig. As great as his heightened senses were in a battle, in regular life sometimes they were just too much. It didn't help that he seemed to be experiencing panic attack symptoms more frequently now.

Sometimes when his senses got too loud Peter liked to listen to music, sometimes, like now, he just liked the silence that the noise cancelling headphones provided. He shut his eyes and pressed his forehead against the cool glass and focused on calming his breathing down, practicing the counting method that Karen had taught him about.

Peter didn't have to take the headphones off or open his eyes to know that someone had joined him. He sensed the air shift as she sat down opposite him, felt the floor beneath him vibrate with her movements.

Peter let his eyes open and glanced at MJ who had taken a seat opposite him, sketch book open. Of course, she had come to sketch him. At this point he didn't feel offended and just let her draw him.

"You ok?" She asked, once Peter removed his headphones. The sounds were quieter now and Peter tried to focus on keeping it that way.

"Yeah." Peter said shrugging and watching as she pushed the graphite pencil around the page, gradually forming what resembled a head.

"You reacted pretty badly to the snap." MJ mused and Peter cursed her for being so observant.

"What do you mean?" He said, choosing to play dumb.

"I'm not an idiot, I know a panic attack when I see one." MJ said, continuing her sketching but pausing to look up at Peter every now and then. She was half right he supposed, but she couldn't possibly know about the sensory overload thing. She probably only knew it was a panic attack because of stupid Flash grabbing his phone on the bus that morning. MJ spoke again, "counting helps for me, I identify 5 thinks I can see, 4 things I can hear et cetera until I’ve gone through all my senses."

"Breathing helps me." Peter replied, tilting his head curiously. Did MJ get panic attacks?

"Yeah well it is pretty crucial." She said, her lips quirking up in what Peter took to be a sort of half smile. "But, you got snapped so how come you reacted so badly to it? We weren't even here to see the effects."

Peter looked out the window and sighed, his warm breath making the glass fog up. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you… or if you did, you'd find it dumb."

"To make you react like that, I doubt it'd be dumb." MJ said in a way that made it clear she wasn't pushing him for an answer, but Peter found that he wanted to anyway.

"I… I lost Mr Stark." Peter whispered, so quiet he wondered if she heard. He kept his eyes trained outside to the skyline, not wanting to see MJ's reaction. He heard her pencil stop moving across the paper for a few seconds before starting again. "He was my mentor, I know Flash doesn’t believe it, but he taught me a lot… he was really important to me. Losing him was like losing a part of myself, and I'm struggling to find my way back."

Peter stopped talking and bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from thinking further about the matter and MJ didn't push him further.

"See." MJ said leaning her head against the glass so as to catch Peter's eye. "Not dumb at all."

"Thanks." Peter said smiling weakly.

"And for the record, I don't think you ever really lose someone. As long as they're still here," she tapped her forehead, "and here" then her heart, “you never actually lose them."

Peter nodded and mulled over her words for a little longer. They remained seated across from each other by the window outcropping for some time, not speaking. The silence wasn't uncomfortable or awkward in any way, instead it was peaceful and comforting. Peter was beginning to find that he actually really enjoyed spending time with MJ.

He was mustering up the courage to ask MJ how she was doing after being brought back from the Snap, worried that any question into her personal life might make her retreat, when the hair on his arms stood up. Peter immediately became alert, looking first out the window to ensure that no alien ships were descending from the sky. He put his headphones away and slung his backpack over his shoulders, moving to push himself off the ground and pressing a hand against the cool tiling of the floor as he did. Peter paused when he felt the energy currents running beneath them and the slow but steady rumbling that was disrupting the waves. Something was growing in power beneath them. Sometime was definitely not right.

"Something-" Peter began but his voice was lost to the extreme force of the explosion that went off several floors beneath them.

[howlingbarnes]

Soft as Silk - Part Four

Characters - Peter Parker x Spidey!Reader

Word Count - 1718

Warnings - None, Slow Burn

A/N - I’m sorry it took so long to get this part out, I know some of you have been waiting for it! I just don’t like to force it because I do care about this series and I don’t want it to come out like garbage because I’m just trying to get out a part. Thank you guys for being understanding. Remember, feedback makes all the difference in the world! Maybe tell me what you’d like to see in the next part??

Masterlist | Help me out? | Series Masterlist

Thank the gods it’s Friday

The thought passed through your barely coherent mind as you blinked awake. As much as you hated waking up before your alarm, you enjoyed the few minutes you got to feel the ultimate comfort in your bed prior to starting the day. Sinking into your pillows, letting your blanket hug you, allowing your body to feel heavy even with the aches and pains from the previous night made you feel somewhat at peace. It’s all you really wanted; peace. You knew that you wouldn’t see it though, not without fighting for it day in and day out.

You’d only let your eyes fall closed again for a moment before a knock on your door made them snap open again. Your mother was speaking so gently that if you didn’t have powers, you wouldn’t have heard her call your name at all.

“We’re bringing you to school today.”

“We?” You called back, your voice muffled by your plush pillows.

Though you knew who your mother was talking about, you wanted confirmation. Your father rarely took time out of work unless it was for something important, so giving you a ride to school wasn’t the only reason he was tagging along. Asking your mother vague questions was your way of getting her to tell you what was going on.

“Your father and I.” She answered and you could almost picture her crossing her arms while talking to your door. “Principal Morita wants to speak with us.”

Time stopped. Your heart just found a place in your stomach and you felt like you could barely breathe. Part of you felt like you hadn’t done anything wrong so you couldn’t think of a reason why your principal wanted to see your parents. On the other hand, you did skip out on class to hang out with Spider-Man. Maybe someone saw you leave? Maybe someone knew your secret and you were about to be exposed.

With your thoughts running rampant, your pleasant morning had quickly spiraled into a panic. Instead of your normal routine, you frantically got yourself ready for your trip to Hell. The nerves were making your fingers shake, and because you couldn’t control yourself, your webs were starting to form without permission and nearly everything you touched was impossible to put down. Each move you made was overcalculated, going out of your way to not draw attention to your nervousness. If your parents caught a whiff of strange behavior from you, you’d never hear the end of it.

The ride to your school was calm and quiet, at least it was for your parents. The city was pulsing for you. Every sense you had was so overwhelming that when your phone vibrated in your pocket, you nearly screamed, quickly recovering by clearing your throat instead.

S 🕸: Hey! It's been a few days. I was wondering if you wanted to hang out this evening?

S 🕸: I mean actually spend time together! That wasn't a pun or anything

Seda: I’d love to, as long as my identity staying intact long enough for me to see the light of day again

S 🕸: You okay?

Seda: I’m fine. Just some family stuff. Talk later, okay?

S 🕸: Can’t wait

S 🕸: You’ll be alright 😊

After your exchange, you tucked your phone back into your pocket and followed your parents into your school with your stomach dragging on the floor. Your nerves were wound tight in a bundle but you pushed forward with each step. Even with eyes on you, with the possibility of your cover being blown, the thought of not being able to see Peter again, you pushed forward, knowing that you couldn’t stop this if you tried. Time was meant to move forward regardless of if your world was crumbling from beneath you.

There was a brief wait before you were invited into Principal Morita’s office. Opting to not be too close, you settled into the chair closest to the door while your parents took the seats just in front of his desk once they’d shook his hand. An unsettling silence blanketed over the four of you and your anxiousness was making you fiddle with your webs in your pocket.

“I brought you here today to let you know that your daughter has incredible abilities.” Your principal spoke clearly, lacing his fingers together on his desk. He was so nonchalantly tearing your life apart, in so many words, yet he was perfectly calm about it. The whole situation was making you angry but more than anything, you were afraid.

“What do you mean?” Your father spoke up, curiously.

Morita’s eyes flickered over to you. The way his gaze laid on you was as if you should know exactly what he was talking about. The pressure was beginning to be too much, everything was bottled up and threatening to overflow. Tears began forming in your eyes, making you dip your head away from his probing stare.

“She’s top of her class.” The words rolled out of his mouth and it took everything in your being to not suck in a gasp of relief. “I’ve never seen anyone test as well as her, and it’s not just that; she’s gotten perfect grades on every assignment she’s handed in.”

Your parents were distracted by pride, giving you a chance to wipe your eyes and breathe without raising suspicion. Everything faded to a blur while you reflected. They talked on about AP classes and early graduation while you asked yourself why you’d let yourself get so worked up about people finding out who you were when the sun was down. Would it have really been that bad?

Seda: I’ll see you tonight 💦

S 🕸: Yes! Looking forward to it

S 🕸: Also what's up with the water emoji?

Seda: Not water lmao webs

S 🕸: ….I knew that

The day went on as normal after your parents left. You were able to pull yourself out of your nervous haziness to discuss after-school clubs and advanced classes with them before heading to your first period. This wasn’t before being called out by your principal. He let you know that he let you skipping your class slide because you were a good student otherwise and warned you not to do it again.

It wasn’t long before you were in a class that used to be your least favorite, one that you had to pretend was still your least favorite to keep up appearances. That class was physical education. There would be times here and there that you would run a little faster, kick a ball a little harder, but you never over-excelled. You didn’t want a huge amount of attention drawn to you over your physical fitness and the first person that would scream to the moon how good of an athlete you were is a gym teacher.

Whoever decided that wrestling needed to be a sport was a maniac, and whoever thought it’d be a good idea to have kids in school participate was even crazier. Sitting in the bleachers, you started to wring your hands and bounce your leg while silently praying that you didn’t get called on. This wasn’t any different than what you would do before you had powers, but now you did it because you were afraid you’d go too far and end up hurting someone.

“....and Parker!” Your teacher called out while you daydreamed about what you’d do when you got out of school, not realizing at first that he was staring at you.

Oh no.

He wanted you to go toe-to-toe with Peter Parker. As if that was fair. Well, anyone you got paired with would feel unfair considering that you could possibly kill them if you weren’t careful. That’s something that terrified you any time you touched someone who’s ass you weren’t trying to kick. In your head, you figured you just take him down fast and move on with your day. You charged Peter and surprised him enough to get him off his feet. However, he didn’t stay down even when you started to put some pressure on him.

“How are you stronger than me?” You struggled out while trying to keep him on the mat. Your classmates cheered when they realized that this match was actually going to be interesting instead of the one-sided messes that have been set up for a better half of the class period.

“It’s you,” Peter replied, staring at you wide-eyed after pinning your shoulders to the hard mat.

It’d taken a moment for you to stop struggling under his weight to process what he said. At first, you were confused but after a moment it all hit you like a brick wall. You weren’t sure if it was his aura, the overwhelming static in your head, or that stupidly cute mouth of his but it was like the lightbulb finally went off.

“Get off me.” It wasn’t a request and the way his small smile faded slowly let you know that he could tell.

Luckily, that was your last class of the day. So, without permission, you took off to the locker room to collect your things once Peter set you free. Your classmates could think you were leaving in embarrassment of being taken down so quickly, you didn’t care. What you did know is that you needed to get out of there, fast.

You didn’t bother changing your clothes before running out of the building minutes before the bell rang, freeing everyone for the day. By the time anyone would set foot out of the school, you were long gone, in your webbed outfit, on your way to a high up place.

S 🕸: Why’d you run?

Seda: I got scared

S 🕸: Is it really that bad that we really know each other?

You considered his words for a minute. It wasn’t bad, if anything it was nice having someone that understood almost exactly what you were going through. It was time for you to start trusting him. You were drawn to him regardless, you didn’t have a choice whether you wanted one or not.

Seda: Can I still come over tonight?

S 🕸: Only if you let me in this time

Seda: Promise

Part Five

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