#mcu MJ looking at you...

[jennrypan]

Now why did they have Halle Barry in that fuck ass wig in the second Kingsman movie-

She looks soo goofy oml. Why would they do her like that- EVERYONE ELSE LOOKS GOOD THEN THERES HER ASS. That wig is so ugly 😭 a cute pixie cut would've been just FINE oml.

[jonathanbyersphd]

The new Spider-Man movies are perfect actually. Men just hate fun.

[whambambatfam]

Webs of a Wing

Chapter 2

I wanted to post once a month and had this chapter ready to go when I posted the first. Then I suddenly decided to add a bunch more a few days along and almost didn't post on time... It's 12:10 but, close enough. Also, I fought for my life trying to figure out how to tag people for some reason..

Anyway! Founding your family time with the slay girls. My knowledge in the MCU is as vast as in DCU so, quite small.

I hope you like it!

Reader ages 10 - 12

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It starts to feel less disappointing to see that they never show up. Of course, Alfred always tries to make the time; he's your number one support.

You didn't ask for everyone's attention, you didn't want it, only theirs. Not looked up to on a pedestal, watched over from afar, like A doll on the shelf. All you asked for is a connection, real and human.

Yet, you could never achieve it, so you stopped trying. You stopped reaching out to hands that were never extended to you. If you're not wanted, then you won't bother. You won't waste your time. You had Alfred when you could, another observer in their lives. In this, you find your own kind of family, away from the manor, forming connections and bonds that follow you through your school years. One girl in particular was a catalyst for accepting others into your life.

“Hey! Can you give your opinion on the after-school club uniforms?” You're halted in the halls by a redhead gripping your shoulders.

You blink at her owlishly, “Uh, wha-?”

Noting your confusion, she introduces herself, “Ah, name’s Mary, Mary Jane Watson. You can call me MJ.” Her arm slips around your shoulder as she guides you along.

“Um, hi, Mj.” You relax ever so slightly when you give her your first name and she doesn't immediately pounce on you for a surname.

Wiping out a notepad, she finally explains, “So, I write the school paper’s fashion articles and I've noticed you join, like, a lot.”

“Oh. Yeah..” Tilting your head at her, you’re still very lost as to why you were the one singled out.

But she just smiles, “Come with me. I need to know about everything they make you wear.” She says as if she plans to drag you away.

She wanted you to show her every blazer, letterman, vest, and so forth. Not ready to bring a stranger to the mansion she compromises. Choosing to meet after your clubs. It's nice to have someone waiting for you, other than Alfred. You don't wish to be her model, to her disappointment. Instead, opting to go behind the camera. Mj squeals in delight as you give her free range on the available gear. Styling and posing a hundred times for each uniform.

You've come to know her as a kind-hearted, fairly popular, carefree girl. One who often weaponized these traits to her advantage, especially when it comes to getting a good story. After her article on club fashion is released, a big hit around school, she doesn't let you go. Insisting she needs someone to help her with photos for her real passion, modeling. That's how you found yourself snapping shots of MJ throughout the school day and between clubs. You would feel like a creeper if it wasn't for the fact that she practically demands it.

On occasion, this has left you at odds with those who thought themselves better company for your friend to keep. She wouldn’t put up with such nonsense, not that you minded it all that much. You didn't have anyone, throwing themselves at your feet, over the wealth and fame over a name. One you didn't even feel the right to associate yourself with. Instead, you were just another middle schooler who was strangely acquainted with someone who others saw as highly desirable

It cemented your friend when she asked you to pick her up for a weekend shoot on a small bridge at the park. The modest one-floor house was surrounded by an unkempt yard and a rusted link chain fence. A rather loud argument pictures the walls as you watch every bit of movement you can see behind the crumpled curtains. Your fingers are anxiously twisting the strap slung over your shoulder, bag packed generously by Alfred with two lunches. Finally, hurling one last shout over her shoulder, Mj emerged. Her arm links with yours and before you can speak she’s all but dragging you down the street.

She didn't say anything until you two were in the middle of setting up your first shot. stumbling over her words, she tries to tell you that what you heard wasn’t really that bad, that her dad just had a few drinks, that really they weren’t even yelling, and actually it wasn’t something to worry about if you are worried. There was an abnormal casualty of which she spouts anything to pacify whatever she thinks your reaction will be. Only the deep sorrow in her eyes told you the truth of the pain and strife she was pushing down.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” You peer from behind the camera,

“Can I just.. complain about it?”

An appreciative smile pulls at her lips as you continue to capture her image. You didn’t expect an explanation, didn’t need one. She stopped trying to reason. Instead, she spoke, and you listened. Then, everything came almost at once, from her sister leaving to her father drinking and even her mother's illness. For a moment, you wonder if your father could do anything for her. You just as quickly push the naive thought away, why would such a man do something like that for a friend of yours?

Her lips curl into a satisfied smile as she clicks through the camera. “You know, you have a knack for catching my good side.” She tucks it away before tossing you a juice box from the bag.

“All your sides are good sides.” You hum, poking your straw through it.

This earns you an unstifled giggle, “Good answer, tiger.” Mj winks at you before tucking the camera back into its carry case, “Seriously, you've mastered the cam. Not that I want to lose my personal photographer, but have you considered joining the paper?”

You suck the last of the juice from the box with a raised brow, “I dunno, ‘might have to drop a few other things..” Swishing the contents as if contemplating. Really thought, it was an easy answer and you already decided to drop most of the clubs you only joined to fill time. Not to mention you were already familiar with helping and it was fun to work with your friend.

“Come on, me and you, together. I’ll do the writing and posing for pictures while you do the editing and taking pictures.” She clutches your hands in hers, fingers intertwined, “We’ll literally be the hottest journalist team.” Her emerald eyes are wide and pleading as she gazes up at you.

“Don't let her trick you into doing her work for her.” The scoff of another girl comes from behind you.

You recognized her as Gwen Stacy, another girl from your grade. She flips her blond hair over her shoulder as she makes her way onto the small bridge. The two of you had been using the foliage-obscured spot for your photo shoot. Coming to stand before them, blue eyes scanning Mj up and down. Mary Jane crosses her arms giving the scrutinizing look back.

She scoffs at the blond, “How do you know they don't want to?”

Gwen raises a brow at her, “Who would?” She offers back with a scoff of her own.

You jump in before proverbial knives can meet throats. “Actually, I like taking pictures for MJ.”

Gwen cocks her head at you, “Then join the photography club.”

Mj huffs, “Not if you want to actually, ya know, do something with your life.”

You step in again as the two wind up to take more jabs at each other. “Hey, um, ‘think I'll stick to what I've got..” Lifting the camera to Gwen she furrows her brows looking closer at your picture, “I've never even owned a camera before, but I'm having fun with Mj and I think doing the paper could be nice.”

She slips the device from your grasp, clicking through each picture. “You're actually really good..” Peeking up at you, she smiles sheepishly, “Can you take pictures of me too?”

While the two have their differences every now and then, you were always together. You left most of your clubs, having only picked them up for that void made by your family. Now you have people to fill the holes that they left behind.

While you'd never met, you’re familiar with the GCPD Captain, through your family's close ties with the commissioner. Who would have guessed that you would find yourself in his living room as Gwen dragged you along? Shaking his head with amusement as he watches he shut the two of you away in her room. Gwen had offered a hangout to help you with your scheduling if you helped her with her own. It was interesting to see all the things she was balancing. A focus in stem with an emphasis in chemistry but, with a blossoming interest in modeling.

Something she admits sheepishly, revealing the offer to do a small shoot she's been recruited for, “I sent in a headshot you did, and well I didn’t think I'd actually get it. Who knows..” She shrugged nonchalantly despite the turbulence on her face, “Maybe it'll help me with college too.” Legs stretching out across her bed, she nudges your shared piles of junk aside, her feet resting at your side.

You mirror her positing from the opposite end of her bed, “Collage? already?? I don't think we have to take it so seriously yet.” Collecting the pile of disheveled papers in your hands, you shuffle them off to the side to be put away later. “Not that getting in would be hard for you. I guess you already know what you want to be but, it's okay to have other interests.”

Smiling at her with reassurance infects her with a pull at her own, “I have a pretty good idea, yeah, and that's what I'm gonna shape myself into. Starting now.” Cerulean eyes scan over your current disastrous schedule of overbooking and under-appreciation, “Stretching yourself so thin isn’t going to make you.. well, whatever you’re trying to become.”

“I just want to be somebody.” It’s your turn to poorly shrug your worries off as if they never really sat all that heavily, to begin with.

“You of all people wanna be famous?” Gwen misinterprets, raising a golden brow at you.

Your face scrunches at the mere suggestion, “God no!” Busying yourself with sifting out your less favorable activities. Handing over everything you planned to keep up with, to the bewildered yet, inturged blond across from you.

Martial arts, Gymnastics, journalism, photography, coding, knitting, and you're still handing her more.. Looking them all over, she shakes her head with a chuckle, “You know what they say. Jack of all trades, they’re master of none.”

A hand slips over your head, rubbing at the back of your neck, “I just wanna be.. Worthwhile, I guess? I’ve just never felt like I was enough.” She set you with a concerned look that paints heat over the tops of your ears, “But I actually like these!”

She shuffles through your handful of flyers, sign-ups, papers, and the like for each, “Well, there’s more to that saying about a jack of all trades, right?” Scooting over to sit beside you, she bumps your shoulder with a soft smile. “They’re often better than a master of one.”

“Thanks.. I think?” Laughing, you bump her shoulder back. You get the sentiment at least, you think..

“Still might be good to cut some of these out. Don’t push yourself so hard.” Lifting flyers for both photography and the school paper, “I thought you were gonna pick one?”

Days spent without Alfred or the girls were the hardest. Roaming long halls, hearing your father and brother, who've been arguing more and more. Robin's role in leading his own team had left the house feeling emptier than usual. Hardly ever crossing paths with one another. Lately, it's even been putting a strain on the dynamic duo's relationship. You wonder if they noticed when you stopped reaching out. Not likely when they are falling apart themselves. Your little band of miscreants always softened the blow of coming home to the lonely Manor, you'd always see them tomorrow...

You spot your blond just outside the lunchroom doors. Nose stuck in her book before you settle in next to her, “Where's MJ?” You ask, pulling your bag from your shoulder.

“Ugh, late as always.” Snapping her book shut, she sighs, leaning into your side. “Are we supposed to hold up everything for her all the time?”

The two of you sit chatting as children flood to and from the cafeteria. You talk long enough for Gwen to get over Mj being late again, just in time for her to show.

“Heyyyy! Sorry, sorry!” The redhead plops between them and hooks an arm over each of her friends' shoulders. She pokes Gwen's puffed cheeks as she huffs, “Oh, don't look so grumpy!”

“We've got to wait for you, like, every day!”

Mary Jane shrugs, “So?”

You roll your eyes, “So, can't you ever get here on time?”

“It's called fashionably late for a reason.” Gwen gives you a look that you return, and the two of you walk away. Mj gasps, hurrying to catch up, “Wait!!”

They may be a bit dysfunctional but they were yours. Before you know it, they're closer to your heart than your so-called family. Alfred even tells you he's delighted to see you making these connections. Happy to host you and your friends when you finally decide to bring them around. Your little room on the far end of the manor is cleaned from top to bottom. An array of treats is accompanied by frequent check-ins, which led to many, many questions each time around.

“You've really had to spend so much time alone here?” Gwen makes herself comfortable in your desk chair.

“Oh, well, I have Alfred.” You scoot back on your bed, back pressed against the headboard. With a sigh your head bumps the wall, “... most of the time anyway.”

“This place is crazy..” MJ pulls open your closet, fuming and ready to tear apart your meager wardrobe. “I can't believe you're actually a Wayne. Your dad is Bruce freaking Wayne, why is he the worst?”

Grimacing as her chair spins slowly the blond grumbles, “Not that surprising from some fancy stuck-up rich boy.”

Green eyes flicker through each quick swish of a hanger, “Why doesn't everyone know? Don't people like that usually have a big announcement or whatever?” Mj turns those critical emeralds to you.

Slouching into yourself to escape the gaze, “I did not want that.”

Unimpressed with the answer, she huffs, “Still there have to be people who know about you, right? Your family is, like, super famous.”

“Wait!” Gwen perks up, feet hitting the ground to halt her cycle, “I think I have heard people talk about you.”

Heat claws its way up the back of your neck, catching onto your ears. “Wh- huh? Really??”

“Yeah, they call you- uh..” Her sudden realization seems to die in her throat, “Well, they call you, um..” Gwen combs a hand through her hair, aquamarines darting away from you, “Wayne unwanted... cause the Wayne's have never acknowledged you publicly.”

Mary Jane scoffs, “Or personally, apparently.”

You've only lived through this your whole life yet hear that you're known for your misfortune, to be watched but never seen...

The two of them were across the room before you even realized you were crying. They cuddled up on either side of you, squeezing you between them as they apologized. “No, no, it's okay..” You giggle through the sting in your chest, wrapping your arms around them.

Gwen gives you an almost offended look. “It is not okay.”

“You deserve so much better!” Mj tights her grip until you're begging for air.

They didn't make you feel othered like your family name or the intimidating manor. You knew they saw you, not a name, statue, money, power. Just you.

“Hey, would you..” Swallowing the nerves catching in your throat, you slide the paper across your lunch table. “Would you guys like to come to my competition?”

Mj snatches the paper up from the table, “Of course!”

The other scans the sheet with intrigue, “We'll be there, promise.” Gwen takes the paper from the redhead's hands, smoothing out her crinkles.

It always felt better to have someone there to root for you. Tonight, Alfred would be busy handling things for Bruce's ‘business trip’. Not that it matters because now, you have friends.

After the winners are called and you can part, Mary Jane is the first at your side. “You were great!”

“Really? Thanks..” Your face burns. You always felt Alfred was just being biased in his praises.

She swoops you up into a hug, “Absolutely, way to go, tiger!” Yet, it feels more real coming from your friends.

“Though, I don't really get it.” Gwen muses from the side, “You're such a wallflower. You hate the spotlight.”

The warmth in your cheeks raises again, “Yeah, well, so?”

Gwen's lips quirked into a frown, “So, why do these?”

“Seriously, like, no one's making you..” Mj raises a brow at you, “right?”

“No, I just.. I wish someone would come.” You sigh, shoulders slumping, “Just one of them. Even once.” No matter how they push you away, there's always that part of you that still wants them to come around.

An arm is thrown over your shoulder, “Well, you're great so, so... Fuck those guys!” The curse slips from Gwen in a half whisper of juvenile rebellion.

Another arm joins the first around your shoulders, “Exactly, Fuck them!” Mj giggles, grading on the use of profanity.

“Heh, yeah.. Fuck ‘em.” You smile despite the way your ears burn in superfluous fear of being scolded by Alfred for your language.

Nights were more exciting with your newfound love of photography. You collected pictures of the best and worst of Gotham. From sparkling main streets to eerily dark alleyways. Especially the growing stock of your star muses, Batman and Robin. You started putting together profiles from them, juxtaposing their day and night personas. Filing in the scraps of knowledge you've gathered from chasing after them. You kept the folders stuffed in your closet; embarrassed by your almost obsessive habit over people who disregard your existence.

Despite how he may treat you, when Dick came home with a bullet in his shoulder from the Joker, you cried. It felt silly when you realized they were falling. What was there to mourn if.. Alfred had been teaching you to take care of bigger wounds. You pleaded to assist his tending of your brother. Promising to feign cluelessness on your knowledge of the.. happenstance.

It wasn't until after his wound was cleared of debris and disinfected, that he noticed you. Trembling little fingers press the gause to his broad shoulder as Alfred prepares the bandage. His hand comes up to rest over yours, steadying it. Head snapping up to meet his gaze, there's something lurking in those sapphires of his.

A smile cracks its way deliberately across his weary face. It's too endearing of a look for him to give you. This was the first time it felt so sincere. The warmth of it burned at your frayed nerves. Sparked at cool embers of hope that he'd come around to you. Only when he's nearly died. It couldn't be real, but it hurt too much to be a dream.

“Thanks, Birdie. You didn't have to.” Dick's praise burns at your ears. It must be blood loss, a near-death experience, or something.

It feels too unnatural. You mumble out quietly, “Of course I did.”

Alfred relieves you of the tension, wrapping the bandage around and across. You’re left to stand off to the side before eventually being shuffled out of the room. The weight of his gaze is unrelenting until you finally step out of the room. You immediately miss it, realizing you've let such a rare moment of connection slip away. The sudden tender moment only made it harder to hear he'd left shortly after. He moved two states away to New York, leaving Robin behind for good.

He hadn't even bothered to say goodbye.

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Tag List?!

@butratherbutrather @dorkatron-2000 @mys0cksrwet @nervousalpacalady @notsamaira @facelessisnthere @danir2006 @ryuushou @sirenetheblogger @l3v1us

[awhoreintheory]

okay so MCU canon Peter in DC is all funny and games but what about comic canon Peter? Peter who’s in his 30s, whose life is falling apart(again) and has clones to deal with(man I hate the fact that Ben became evil :(.)

extra points if Miles and/or Mayday is with him. This single dad is STRUGGLING. And the bats wanna help him/his kids cause man! Look at them :(

(extra extra points if Dick = Richard Parker. That’s a whole nother can of worms. Like the bats are thinking Peter = Family of Dick they didn’t know but NO! It’s actually Dick’s son! Dicks a granddad!)

I want to PSA to anyone sending asks/requests, I'm not ignoring you!! I'm just a slow writer!!! I hope you enjoy though <33

Peter B. Parker could, 100%, picture landing in (yet another) alternate universe. You know what? As a matter of fact, he expected it.

What he didn’t plan for, however, was being stranded in another universe with his baby girl strapped to his chest. 

But here he was, crouched in a narrow alley in the darkest corner of Gotham City, New Jersey. From the name alone, Peter knew he landed himself in a section of the Multiverse Miguel had expressly labeled as off limits. It wasn’t his fault he’d landed here, though!

One minute he’d been web-swinging through New York, enjoying a rare peaceful day with Mayday babbling happily, and the next he was crash-landing onto a grimy rooftop in the most dangerous city he’d ever seen. It was like New York turned up to eleven, all shadows and towering gargoyles, dripping with rain that seemed perpetual. The interdimensional bracelet he’d been given to travel the multiverse was sparking and smoking in his pocket— total toast. He was officially stranded. 

Ok, so it maybe, kinda sorta, been an eensy weensy, tiny bit Peter’s fault. 

Peter’s, very high-tech and likely expensive bracelet had been, uh, scratched in a fight the day before. Barely even a nick! He swears he could’ve reattached the wires and fixed the screen. 

He probably should’ve also taken the watch out of his robe pocket before he started swinging Mayday to daycare. 

MJ was going to be so mad. 

It became evident early on it’d take a little bit to find a way home, or for someone to find him. If it had just been Peter, he could’ve roughed it on some rooves and abandoned buildings. It wouldn’t be a big deal, he knew he would be getting home eventually. Being a little smelly was the least of his worries. 

But he had his baby girl with him. 

So, with the money in his wallet, he found an under-the-counter, rundown but otherwise warm, apartment in a place called Crime Alley. (What a seriously terrible name) Peter started pulling together whatever side gigs he could, fixing appliances, tuning up electronics, just enough to get by. Even for a guy who was used to scraping by, the situation felt bleak, especially with Mayday depending on him. 

His little red-headed whirlwind was still too young to understand what was happening, but she noticed the tension and started clinging to him more tightly. Peter knew he couldn’t keep this up forever, but he wasn’t sure how to trust anyone in a city that had both criminals and vigilantes lurking around every corner. When he spotted someone in a cape swinging overhead, he instinctively hid in the shadows, holding Mayday close, her tiny face tucked into his shoulder.

But the Bats noticed him. 

It was hard not to notice a single dad with no records, no job, and no explanation for why he was squatting in Gotham’s most dangerous neighborhood. Bruce, ever vigilant, put out word to the family to keep an eye on him. 

Jason, who patrolled Crime Alley, wasn’t thrilled about the idea. “A guy moved into my turf with a baby?” he grumbled to Tim. “Either he’s got a death wish, or he’s crazy.” 

Tim, on the other hand, was fascinated by the mystery. He dug through every database he had access to, and then some. But “Peter Parker” returned zero results— at least, none that matched this Peter Parker. no criminal record, no birth record, no online footprint. It was like he just spawned in! 

Dick didn’t have a whole lot of opinions. He thought the man was nice, though he had only met him once in a routine mugging. He evidently cared for his daughter, and matched Nightwing’s wit and humor pretty nicely, too. He looked annoyingly familiar too. Maybe it was Tired Dad Chic? He kind of reminded him of Bruce, in a way. 

Steph seconded the funny part. This Peter guy could be one of those dark-humor comedians. 

From what they observed, and conversations supplied by Jason (who was his neighbor in a series of fortunate events), Peter really did seem to just be an ordinary guy.  

Then one night, Peter was picking up groceries from a corner store when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to find a man in a ski mask brandishing a knife, gesturing for his wallet. 

“Hand over the money, and I won’ hurt ya’ kid.” The man threatened, waving his knife around threateningly. Peter tensed, dropping his groceries in favor of cradling Mayday closer. 

Peter blinked at him tiredly. “The best I can offer is some lint and a can of beans.” 

The man tensed, stepping closer in an attempt at intimidation. Peter thought that his face turning red with anger was kind of funny.

“Don’t fuckin’— are you makin’ fun of me?” The man fumed. Peter might have let out a sleep-deprived chuckle, partially forgetting to respond. 

The mugger lunged, and before he could dodge, Peter felt a searing pain in his side as the blade plunged in, his vision blurring with the shock. Normally, Peter would’ve disarmed the guy without breaking a sweat, but tonight, with Mayday in his arms and his body worn from days of restless sleep, he kind of just… blinked and the knife was there. 

Peter blinked again, then looked back up at the man.

“Oh, wow,” he said, his voice dripping with deadpan sarcasm. “A knife in Crime Alley? Super original. Really, I’m honored to be a part of your creative process.”

The mugger blinked, clearly caught off guard. Peter rolled his eyes, adjusting Mayday to better apply pressure to his side. “Next time you stab a guy, maybe aim for someone with insurance.”

The mugger stumbled back, looking increasingly confused by Peter’s lack of fear. Peter sighed, bouncing Mayday gently as she began to fuss. “Listen, I’m already running on no sleep and the caffeine fumes of yesterday’s coffee. And now you’re just making my night even worse.”

Peter winced, feeling the slow but consistent leak of blood. His healing factor was helping, but it was dulled due to lack of sleep and hunger. 

Between one long blink and the next, someone had jumped down and knocked out Peter’s would-be mugger. 

After another blink Peter realized he was on the ground, Mayday’s wails filled the air, her cries echoing down the alleyway, and Peter tried to smile through the pain. “It’s okay, baby,” he mumbled, clutching her tightly. “Daddy’s fine… just a little… scratch.” But his vision was going hazy as he pressed a hand to his bleeding side. The world began to spin.

One of the vigilantes that Peter recognized as Red Robin rushed over, talking hurriedly into a comm. Peter blinked up at him, his mouth curling into a weak smile. “Hey, nice costume,” he muttered. “Does the utility belt come in dad sizes?” 

Red Robin blinked in surprise, but otherwise keept his focus as he worked to stop the bleeding.

“It doesn’t, unfortunately.” Red Robin offered, popping open his emergency med kit. “I’ve got help on the way, ok? Stay awake for me.” But his attention was snagged when Mayday, overcome with distress, reached out to him, her tiny hands gripping his arm. She wasn’t just clutching it— she was sticking to him, her fingers locked like suction cups on his suit. Tim’s eyes widened as she scrambled up his arm, scaling it like a bug on a wall. 

Red Robin took it in stride, scooping Mayday up as he continued to work. Peter had been on the Meta radar for a bit— a few things here and there just a little off, and it was mostly based on Red Robin’s time spent with super-powered individuals. 

But as he patched up Peter, he discreetly swiped a sample of blood, stashing it in his belt just as the Batmobile pulled up. 

—

Later that night, he ran the sample through the Batcomputer, expecting some small lead. A Meta, possibly insect-based? What with how the kid had stuck to him. Instead, the results left Tim absolutely speechless. 

Peter Parker, the man who was in his early 40s and a single father, didn’t just match someone in the system— it matched Dick Grayson.

Not as a brother, or a cousin, but as a son. 

Tim must’ve ran the test at least 100 times. It came back the same every single time. 

Tim called Bruce and the rest of the family, each of them crowding around the screen with varying levels of shock and amusement as the analysis rolled in. Dick was dumbfounded, staring at the results in disbelief. 

“You’re telling me this guy is my… son?” he stammered, struggling to wrap his mind around it. 

Bruce, socially unaware in all his glory, tried to comfort Dick. “He’s likely from far into the future. Barry said there was a ripple in the timestream around the time Peter showed up.” 

“So what does that make Mayday?” Jason asked, snickering. 

“His granddaughter?” Steph said with a teasing grin. 

“Wow, Dick. You went from a dad to a grandpa in the same minute.” 

“That’s gotta be a world record.”

“You think we can submit this for a Guinness World Record?”

Dick groaned, rubbing his temples as Jason laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. 

“He’s from the future, right? Something must’ve gone wrong on his end," Tim said, folding his arms with a thoughtful look. "He’s definitely got the skills. Moves like you, Dick. It's obvious he's had training.”

Dick couldn't help but smirk, puffing up a little with pride. “Of course he does. He’s got Grayson blood in him, after all.”

Jason snorted. “Yeah, because the whole ‘falling on his face with a baby strapped to him’ bit? So graceful.”

Tim rolled his eyes, trying to stay on track. “Look, I don’t know why he didn’t come to us for help in the first place, but the point is, he’s family. We should get him back to his time, if that’s even possible.” He looked over to Bruce. “Are any speedsters available? Maybe the League could lend us Wally or Barry—"

“Hold on,” Dick interrupted, frowning. “I’m not sure we’re ready to ship him off just yet. The guy’s been trying to make it on his own. He’s got a baby to look after, and I think he’s afraid of dragging us into whatever’s going on with him. You know this family and their pride.”

Damian, who had been silent up to this point, finally piped up, his arms crossed. “I’ve seen him with the baby. She’s… persistent.” There was an almost begrudging respect in his tone. “But he clearly doesn’t have the resources to keep her safe here. If he did, he wouldn’t be living in Crime Alley.”

Dick nodded. “Exactly. The guy’s holding it together with duct tape and dad jokes. We can help him and get him back on his feet while we figure out a way home.”

Bruce, listening intently, finally spoke up. “He’s right. Until we find a way to get him home, Peter and his daughter stay here. We’ll pull together whatever resources we can to help them both.” 

Steph and Tim shared a look. He just wanted to meet his grandson and great-granddaughter. 

There was a beat of silence as everyone absorbed the decision, and then Tim looked at Dick, a small smirk playing on his lips. “So… you ready to be a dad, Dick?”

Dick flushed, looking a mix of horrified and pleased. “I’ll just stick to ‘Uncle Dick’ for now. Baby steps.”

EXTRA:

“Hey,” Jason drawled, barely suppressing a smirk as he looked over at Dick, “you think we can submit this for a Guinness World Record? Fastest unplanned parenthood, or maybe most confusing family reunion?”

Dick rolled his eyes but couldn’t quite hide his grin. “Very funny, Jay. Maybe we can submit you for most inappropriate comments per minute.”

Jason chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder. “Just saying, man, it’s impressive. One day you’re Nightwing, lone acrobat extraordinaire, and the next? Boom— you’re the proud father of a scruffy, interdimensional— what'd you say it was, Tim? Spider-dad? A Spider-dad.”

Tim snickered, glancing up from his laptop. “We’re all just living in a 'Strangest Family Reunion’ reality show at this point. Besides, if anyone’s submitting to Guinness, it should be Peter for most relentless optimism under terrible circumstances.”

Bruce cleared his throat, giving them all a look. “Enough. This isn’t a joke. We have a situation to handle here.”

Dick, still grinning, turned back to Bruce. “All right, fine, we’ll save the record-breaking for later. Right now, I say we start by finding this guy and getting him some real help.”

[dixonsfawn]

── .✦ 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄 ┆ 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 ; your valentine’s day takes a turn when what you think is just a surprise from peter turns out to be a lot more than you bargained for.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 ; mcu!peter parker x fem!reader, fluff, some mentions of anxiety, but mostly just peter being an oblivious lil himbo baby.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ; 3.4k .ᐟ

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ; this is a repost from my old acc x

with valentine’s day just around the corner, it was easy to find yourself paranoid about the entire holiday and what exactly it meant for you and peter. 

while for most people, it was a celebration of love and being able to embrace that, for you, it had become an anxiety-induced menace of a day that had you second-guessing everything.

the worst part of all was that you and peter technically weren’t together. 

yet, as the days grew closer and you continued to get your hopes up, it was hard not to feel disheartened when he hadn’t uttered a single word about it. leading you to wonder if he had even given it any thought or if you were simply just getting in over your head about the whole thing. 

to any stranger passing you by on the street and witnessing just how affectionate you were with each other, you looked like a couple. heck, you had even shared the occasional kiss, sometimes a little more, and on days when you would go to his apartment to study, it was never long before you’d find yourself snuggling in his bed while he tried to do homework over the top of you.

you never really cared to put a label on your situationship until now, and mostly because you didn’t think you had to. 

but when the day finally arrives and peter was yet to exhibit any efforts in the name of romance, you were devastated. 

“so, he really hasn’t said anything?” mj asks as you head to your locker, having just finished your last class of the day. 

“nope. not a word,” you shake your head.

with her brows furrowing into a scowl, mj exhales, “man, i really thought he would have. i mean… it’s peter. the dude is literally the biggest softie i have ever met.”

despite the sadness you were feeling, you couldn’t help but crack a smile at your best friend’s words. she was the only one that knew how strongly you felt for peter. 

after all, she was the one to point it out.

“i don’t know, maybe i’m just looking too much into it?” you lift your shoulders into a shrug at the same time you reach your locker. 

“well, speak of the devil,” mj gestures towards the end of the hallway where peter and ned had just rounded the corner. 

it only takes them a moment to catch sight of you, and when they do, peter beams with a smile and waves before heading in your direction. even as they passed by multiple girls carrying flowers and the various heart-shaped decorations scattered all over the halls, peter still hadn’t noticed.

“hey! ned and i were talking about going back to mine to study for that test we have coming up, and maybe watch a movie. you guys in?” he asks, tugging on the straps of his bag, completely ignorant to his surroundings. 

it was like he had forgotten about the holiday’s existence altogether, or he was actively trying to avoid it. but why?

“i can’t. i, uh, i actually have a date tonight,” mj says, tucking her hair behind her ear as all eyes turn in her direction. 

“wait, what? with who?” you ask, this being the first you were hearing about it. honestly, you were surprised she had even told you at all. 

shaking her head, she looks down at her feet and shrugs, “just this guy. it doesn’t matter. but, uh, y/n is free tonight so… there’s that.”

the second the words leave her lips, peter’s attention returns to you. and you weren’t entirely sure, but it almost looked like he was relieved that you had no plans. 

a small smile dangled on the corner of his mouth, and his deep brown eyes softened as they met yours. “oh, okay. well, uh, do you want to join us?” he sort of fumbles over his words. 

while it wasn’t exactly what you had imagined spending the most romantic day of the year with peter would be like, it beat having to sit at home alone wallowing in your own self-pity. even if it was with the person causing it… and ned.

you open your mouth to speak when you’re interrupted by ned’s phone.

“actually, change of plans,” he says. “it’s betty… and she wants to see a movie tonight.”

“i thought you two broke up?” mj narrows her eyes with confusion. 

“we did… but maybe she wants to get back together?” he turns to peter with hopeful eyes, and after a moment, the other boy gives him a nudge. 

“dude, go!” he laughs. and just like that, ned rushes down the hall in search of betty, leaving the three of you dumbfounded as you let out a chorus of chuckles. 

“on that note, i better get going too,” mj says once the laughter faded into sighs and points the same way ned had gone. “i’ll see you losers monday. have fun, studying.”

rolling your eyes, you wave goodbye to the girl, as the thought of being alone with peter all night creeps into your mind. 

the idea alone causes your heart to fasten, thrumming loudly in your ears as your mouth becomes dry with nerves. it wasn’t like you at all to be so anxious around peter, and so much so that you almost couldn’t think straight. he was typically the one person you went to when you needed things to slow down, not make them difficult. 

you try to play off the effect he was having on you as you close your locker and swing your bag over your shoulder, but the second your gaze meets his again, it only seems to amplify. 

“so, it looks like it’s just you and me,” he shuffles awkwardly on his feet, tightening his grip on his bag straps once more. 

“uh, yeah. looks like it.” you smile, swallowing the ball that had formed in your throat, and the two of you slowly head towards the exit. 

the walk back to his apartment is quiet at first, but the second peter starts talking about the chemistry assignment he had coming up, there was no stopping him. though, you couldn’t shake the feeling like he was purposely trying to prolong the walk. 

he insisted that you take the longer route, which you never do, and he even slowed down his pace through the park. and as you were passing the deli-grocery, he stopped off to buy you both a sandwich, which wasn’t completely out of the ordinary, but it did add another fifteen minutes to your time. 

it was like he didn’t want to get back to the apartment, like the thought of being fully alone with you was something he didn’t want to partake in. 

when you do finally reach the apartment, however, he fumbles to unlock the door and almost drops the keys in the process, but the second it’s open, you’re hesitant to even step inside. you had been there a million times before but this time, for whatever reason, felt different. 

you wondered if it really were such a good idea for you to be there, to be alone with him when he was clearly opposed to the idea. which was odd considering he had been the one to initiate you going over there in the first place.

“do you want a drink or anything?” he asks as he passes the kitchen to put his bag in his room. 

most days, you would follow him straight to his room, sometimes even beating him there, but with how he had been acting, it just didn’t feel right. so you lingered in the living room instead. 

at least, until he pops his head out of the door, and with a reassuring smile surfacing on his lips, he gestures for you to follow. 

“we’ve got water, juice or soda?” he asks as you enter the room, dropping his bag at the foot of his bed. 

“water is fine,” you nod. 

“okay, give me a sec,” he nods back, and having to cram past you to get out of the door, his hand runs down your arm so to not squish you. the touch immediately sends a pulse throughout your body, causing you to let out a small gasp. 

you were just grateful peter was far enough away that he hadn’t heard it, or if he did, he didn’t show it. 

with peter leaving you alone in his room, you take the chance to take it all in like you hadn’t been there before. you drop your bag beside his and slip out of your jacket before falling into a stupor on his bed. 

peter’s room had always been comforting to you, though, since the blip, it didn’t quite feel like it was his anymore. 

like everyone else that tragically disappeared, peter lost the majority of his belongings, as did you, but he no longer had any of his action figures or comic books. even the nerdy science posters that you would pick on him for, or his lego models - all the things that made peter’s room… his… was all gone. 

shaking away the thoughts, you bury yourself in the comfort of his sheets, letting your fingers dance across the cotton as you wait for him to return. but when you move to grab your phone from your jacket pocket, something in the corner of your eye catches your attention. 

it was the smallest glimmer of something red inside his closet, and the door was only open a crack, but it was enough to make your thoughts go wild. 

was it possible that peter had bought you something for valentine’s day and this whole thing was just a ruse to get you alone with him? were ned and mj in on it? or had he decided against it, thinking that maybe it was too much, and that’s why it was hidden away in his closet?

perhaps that was why he had been acting so strange and why he had been pretending like today was nothing but any other regular day?

however, before you get the chance to relieve your suspicions, peter walks back in with two glasses of water, and when he sees that you had already made yourself comfortable, he draws in his bottom lip as a nervous smile takes hold of his features. 

“something tells me you have absolutely no intention of studying,” he shakes his head. 

“something tells me you’re right.” you pat the spot beside you, and he obliges, pulling his laptop from the desk beside the bed and finding a movie for you both to watch. 

while you enjoyed laying with peter in comfortable silence, watching the film he had chosen, you couldn’t stop thinking about what was in his closet. the tiny sliver of red teasing you from between the slats, begging for you to confront it. 

nevertheless, it takes two hours for peter to finally leave the room again, and within that time, he hadn’t mentioned it at all. which only made you all the more curious. 

so the second he stepped out of the room, you set into motion to find out what it was he was hiding. and you knew you shouldn’t have, but not knowing was killing you, and you simply couldn’t help yourself. 

you tip-toe across the floor, avoiding the creaky spot in the middle, and after a deep breath, you slowly open the door. though, what you were expecting to be a heart-shaped balloon or a cute stuffed animal that said something like ‘be my valentine?’ on the front, was far from what you had imagined. 

instead, hanging on the metal rod was a suit. a suit that you would recognise absolutely anywhere with it’s distinct red and black colours, and who could forget the unmistakable mask with its intricate detailing. 

then it hits you, and a shiver of realisation rolls down your spine. 

setting out a gasp, you drop the suit to the floor and stumble back into the bed, knocking over a book in the process. you couldn’t believe what you had just discovered, and you barely get a moment to collect yourself before peter comes running to the door. 

“hey, are you-” he stops the second he sees the suit, his smile falling as he takes in your bewildered state and it transforms into a look of horror. 

“peter, i-”

“shit,” he exhales, cutting you off as he reaches for the material and throws it back into his closet as fast as he can, despite knowing that the damage was already done. “don’t look at that. that’s nothing. completely and totally nothing.”

“peter, was that - are you?” you try to get the words out, but you’re still in so much shock that it seems near impossible to do so.

“no. nope. It’s not…” he shakes his head rapidly, leaning against the closet now. “it was, uh, it was a gift from may. she knows i like superheroes, so, y'know?”

“peter…”

“it’s nothing, really. i promise. it was just a-”

“peter…”

“i was thinking of maybe even wearing it for halloween this year, what do you think? you could go as black widow, or umm, captain marvel?”

“peter!” this time when you say his name, he stops talking, realising that there was no way he was going to get out of this. and if he did, it would be a miracle. but you were smart, smart enough not to believe the nonsense that was pouring out of his mouth, and know that this was for real. 

his head falls with defeat, and he drags himself to sit beside you. the air was heavy now, filled with worry as he tried to choose his words carefully. there were only so many ways you could tell someone you had a secret identity being a superhero and he had wanted to do it perfectly - but most importantly, not like this. 

“look, i - i hated not being able to tell you but if everyone knew who i was then my life wouldn’t be the same anymore." 

"but, this is me we’re talking about peter. i’m the same person that knows you still wear star wars underwear, and that you secretly love it when i choose to watch twilight on movie night.” you sigh, shoulders slumping slightly. “you can tell me anything.”

his eyes soften at your remark, and the ghost of a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “i know, but i wanted… i wanted to keep you safe. there are bad guys out there that would like to come after spider-man and you knowing who i am, only puts you in danger." 

"who else knows?" 

"may, ned and… mj.”

“mj?” you retort. 

“to be fair, i didn’t tell her. she worked it out herself and i swore her to secrecy so don’t be angry at her for not telling you.” he raises a finger to further prove his point. “i was actually planning on telling you about it tonight, but every time i thought about it, i got nervous and i couldn’t do it.”

“so that’s why you’ve been acting so weird?” you ask, nudging the boy’s shoulder playfully as relief washes over you. “and here i am thinking that it was me. the only reason i looked in your closet was because i… i thought… never mind it’s stupid.”

he chuckles, “no. you have to tell me now!”

you let your head fall back for a moment, and after letting out a deep breath, you sway your head back down. “okay. i saw the red through the cracks and i thought that maybe… it was a valentine’s day present. i know we never really put a label on… us… but i just, i don’t know, i thought that maybe that’s where we were and-”

your words turn into muffles as peter presses his lips to yours in a swift movement, and you’re taken back by his actions but you don’t push him off. your body feels electric and you kiss him back with a smile, sinking into it more before he pulls away. 

he doesn’t pull back much, and instead, rests his forehead against yours as you both try to catch your breath. your heart thumps in your chest and you’re still so close that you were sharing the same air. 

peter had kissed you many of times before, some of them turning into heated make-out sessions but this was different to any of those. this had purpose. 

“sorry, you were rambling and i couldn’t help myself.” a coy smile flashes across his face for a moment, before being replaced with a look of uncertainty. “was that enough for you to see how i feel about you? or would you rather i change my relationship status too? or i could just post to the entire world about how much i love you?”

upon hearing the words, you pull away and a shallow gasp escapes you. you weren’t sure if peter had meant to say it, but whether he did or not, it was out there now and your heart pangs inside your chest as your stomach fills with butterflies. 

“you love me?” you say between breaths and disbelief in your eyes. 

he lets out a nervous laugh as his cheeks redden, and his fingers play with the folds of his shirt. “i mean, yeah… you’re kinda my favourite person in existence. it’d be hard not to.”

“really?”

he nods and walks back over to the closet. “yeah. also if you had of looked in the other side of my closet you would’ve seen this…" 

you watch as he opens the closet door to reveal a beautiful bouquet of white and red flowers all wrapped up in bright red paper.

"i was going to give it to you when i told you about… y'know…” he widens his eyes. “but you sort of did that for me… plus, there was also this.”

this time he pulls out a small bag, something that you’d find at a jewellery store, and hands it to you. you look to him as though to be asking permission to open it, and he nods, gesturing for you to do so before leaning against his desk. 

“it’s not a lot, and i’ve been saving for a while now to get it for you, but if you don’t like it then we can exchange it or get something else…”

opening the bag, you find a small box with gold detailing around the sides. and when you open it, inside sits a bracelet decorated with charms, but the one in the middle, that you can’t really see unless you’re looking close enough is a 'p’.

after a moment of basking in the sentiment of it all, you lean back and give him a warm smile. 

“i love it,” you say, tears slowly starting to brim your eyes as your mouth involuntarily starts to crease. “and i love you.”

“yeah?” peter’s brows twitch, his eyes never leaving yours, and he lifts your palm to his lips for a feather-light kiss. he barely touches you, but it sets your skin alight. 

then all of your focus is on him as you stand to meet him, enveloping him in another kiss. hands moving along his chest to fall behind his neck as he wraps his own around your waist and holds you tight. pulling you as close to him as humanly possible. 

when you do finally pull apart, he clasps the bracelet around your wrist before you slide your fingers through his, savouring the warmth of his skin against yours. 

“so, since you have two identities does that mean i get double the love?” you let out a small chuckle and peter matches it. 

“i think i could manage that.” he says and places one more kiss on the tip of your nose. 

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

request!!: peter parker who has a huge crush on reader and one day r just accidently friendzones themself without even realising that they did? (i hope that makes sense?) then after that u can take it anywhere u want to honestly!! ly <333

ily anon, you answered my pleas. also you know that tt prank where couples kiss and then say “thanks brother” or “love you sis”… couldn’t help but add it for some comedy.

mcu!peter parker x fem!reader

masterlist

you need to learn when to shut your mouth. tripping your foot into your mouth has gotten you into too many situations before, but this one is absolutely the worst one. you might as well be taken to the grave already.

your just a girl. sometimes you say your crush is “like a brother to you” when getting hounded by mr. delmar. it’s a panic move, mouth speaking before mind catches up. and it landed you in the dog house when you saw the way peter’s face dropped at the implication. but you thought he was smart enough to know that wasn’t true, you were touchy and teasing with him. you wouldn’t do that with a sibling, you’re not one of those people.

“mj, i’m a fucking idiot.” groaning into your pillow, trying to suffocate yourself.

she gave an exasperated sigh that you knew was followed by an eye roll. “yes you are, but you don’t need parker.” you heard the flip of a page.

you whined in your throat, “but i want parker!” acting like a tantrum kid. even adding a kick to your feet, your bed springs creaking.

mj groaned, “then clear the air! it’s not that hard!” over your peter parker drama.

you rolled from your stomach to your back, arms flipping to your sides as you stared up at your white ceiling. “but what if-“ your sentence was cut short by a knock at your window.

“say his name and he appears.”

peeking at the tips of your toes you saw peter squatting on your terrace, a hesitant smile with an awkward wave. welp, now’s a good time to clear the air.

crawling off your bed you pushed the window up and were greeted by a cool breeze. bits of peter’s baby curls swaying with the touch, a angelic glow surrounding him. you feel yourself melt just at the sight of him.

“h- hey peter, whatcha-“ “can we talk? alone?”

your eyes zeroed in on mj who was blantanly staring at the two of you, book of no interest at the moment. “oh, i’m fine over here.”

“mj…” “fine. fine. i’ll see you both at school.” packing up and leaving your home with a wiggle of her brows.

“so what did-“ “do you really think of my as a brother?”

you couldn’t help a small chuckle, “kinda funny how you’ve interrupted me three times, but uh, no. i- i don’t see you as a brother, that thought feels gross. mr. delmar was making me anxious.” looking to your fingers as you drummed them along your windowsill.

“oh thank god.” peter declared while cupping his hands on your cheeks to bring your head up. both of you smiling brightly at each other

two months later

“so what do i do?” “just sit there and look pretty.”

a shy smile at peter’s lovely words. he finished setting up his camera and pressed record, you just stared at his side profile.

“you wanna get to her, well you gotta go through me.” and peter turned to kiss you on the lips. a shiny haze covered your eyes then- “love you sis.”

“peter!”



[pinksugarscrub]

Lunch Talks

MCU! Peter Parker x Silk! Reader

Scenario: Peter talks about you to his friends (inspired by @heihei.edits on tiktok)

word count: 791

warning(s): second hand embarassment

~

Now Ned isn’t a jealous person. He’s never been one, especially to Peter. Not when he found out his best friend was Spider-Man nor when it turned out he had indeed met Tony Stark. But this-? This takes the cake.

“What a minute you’ve met Silk. The Silk.”

“I still think it’s a stupid name,” MJ interjects. Flipping to the next page of her novel.

“Yeah,” Peter grins. Popping open a milk carton that’s certain to be half frozen. “She remembers you by the way and her name is- well, everyone at the tower calls her Moon.”

It isn’t verbal but clearly MJ is exasperated by Peter’s lack of logic. She wonders why it took so long for her to realize Peter and Spider-Man were one in the same when he talked so loosely about his life.

“She does?” Ned gapes.

Peter nods as he takes a bite out of his burrito which according to you, is a disgrace to Mexican culture. Honestly he wasn’t entirely convinced until you showed up for patrol with a bag that smelled heavenly.

You can’t blame him. All the good spots are in Brooklyn and you’ve done this whole vigilante thing much longer than he has.

“What did she say? How did she say it? Was-?”

“Woah, woah, slow down.”

“She saved almost two hundred dollars worth of legos. I deserve to know!” Ned answers while angrily biting into a carrot. “She’s my personal hero and you’re over here talking about her remembering me like it isn’t a big deal!”

Chuckling nervously Peter raises his hands. Eyeing MJ for assistance but obviously, he’s on his own. At least until she can’t resist the kicked puppy look he gives her and as much as she discredits hero names as being clever, Silk is also someone she greatly admires.

In a way, you and Peter are alike.

Not fighting for fame or money. Just looking out for the little guy and protecting them from large corporations. Yeah, she’s read the news. A lot of Stark’s contributions are encouraged by your involvement within the community.

She’s got to hand it to you, you know how to work the system that is Tony Stark.

“Silk is heavily involved and I’m sure in your case, having a civilian cry over a lego set is memorable.”

“Don’t kill my delusions,” Ned sulks. “And it was a gift for Peter.”

Peter smiles at the memory. Christmas with his two favorite people. Red wrapping paper and silky ribbons. Movies from the 90s which of course included Home Alone and…a small box on his dresser that he wasn’t going to open until he could call you at midnight.

Gulping down milk and stuffing his face would only do so much. Peter could feel his face getting warm and he could certainly feel his heart beating up to his fingertips.

Ah god.

“Hungry are you?”

Peter sputters, choking on the last drops of milk as he sets his tray back into place. “What?”

MJ isn’t a fool and she won’t be taken for one. It also isn’t like she doesn’t get a little enjoyment out of the way Peter fumbles over his words. At least now she knows what’s led him to drift off into dreamland recently.

“What?” Ned parrots. Confused. “It’s lunch?”

Peter wipes away what he spilled before hiding behind his sleeve.

“Sure,” MJ smiles. The smile that allows Peter to know he’s screwed. “When are you going to see her again?”

“Uh- patrol. We have patrol together.” Peter tugs on the collar of his button up.

“Dude?” Ned looks between his friends. A tennis match obviously ensuing.

“Today?”

“Yeah,” Peter squeaks.

“What time?”

“Afternoon.”

“So right after class?”

“Oh,” Ned drawls innocently. “Is that why we’re meeting at your house later tonight?”

Sweating bullets Peter can’t find himself to answer or tear his gaze away from MJ.

“Yeah Peter, is that why?” MJ bites back a laugh.

Peter bounces his leg underneath the table before finally caving. He’s learned from experience it’s easier that way. That doesn’t mean he’ll go quietly.

“I thought you were supposed to be my friend,” he groans. A borderline whine as he refrains from planting his face on any available hard surface.

“Ok, if someone doesn’t tell me what’s going on right now-”

“Betty!” Peter stands up abruptly. Clearing the lump in his throat. “Here- you can sit here.”

“Thanks, I guess.” Betty arches a brow. Her boyfriend’s friend has always been hospitable and a bit jumpy but this is too much. Even for him. When she sits beside Ned she leans over to whisper in his ear.

“What’s up with him?”

“That’s what I’m saying!”

A loud thump resounds in their little corner of the cafeteria.

[adrixivy]

guess who’s back😝 (I’m gone after this)

Wade LOVES recreating the Spider-Man kiss. He basically begs for it when he somehow ends up upside down or if Peter were hanging infront of him. He likes it more when he’s in Peter’s original position but nonetheless, he loves recreating the kiss.

(Disclaimer: THIS IS NOT MCU PETEY. COMIC SPIDEYPOOL HEADCANON)

He discovered it when he stood at a fire escape of a building that was their meetup place as he was leaning against the barrier, looking around as he waited. Peter suddenly slid down in front of him with a bag of Mexican food he brought from a food truck on the way to meet Wade. Wade was oddly silent, the man usually lunging for the food and the man so Peter thought it was weird at first.

That was immediately changed to bewilderment when Wade reached out to pull up his mask a little. Peter immediately grabbed his wrist, his lenses narrowing. “Trust me” was all the mercenary said and Peter slowly let go of his wrist. Peter was curious too so he decided to stay put, despite the feeling to immediately back off and web Wade up in an alley and leave him behind for people to throw rocks or whatever at the man as he eats the food.

This was after Peter revealed his identity to gain Wade’s trust. Trust that Peter actually loved him and wasn’t dating him to play with his feelings cause Wade found it hard to believe a man as pretty as Peter would love him back.

Wade pulls up his mask just above his nose, revealing his rough scarred face that Peter adored. Peter admired the man’s features that he almost didn’t notice Wade leaning in to kiss him.

Wade placed a hand to the side of Peter’s face, holding it gently as he kissed Peter. Peter kissed back, not minding it, even though it was kinda weird to do it in his position. After one steamy make out session and going up to the roof of the building, as they ate, Peter decided to ask the question.

“It’s the Spider-Man kiss!” Wade answered and immediately, Peter is judging the man as his mask’s lenses narrowed at the man chewing on a taco.

Wade proceeds to explain that in one of the movies that Peter was supposedly in, he kissed MJ like that and he always wanted to try it. Sure he was jealous of MJ but he got to do it too so he didn’t dwell so much on it. Least to say, Peter was confused and judged the man but he didn’t mind it. (Peter: When did I make a movie??) (Wade: Oh not you! It’s Tobey!) (Peter: ??)

Sometimes, when it’s Wade’s turn to get food for their patrol meals, Peter would be relaxing when all the sudden Wade appears upside down in front of him and he’s forced to pull his and Wade’s mask up and they kiss. Whether it’s a make out or peck, it’s up to Peter. Most of the time it’s a peck. (Wade sticks his katana into the wall and is hanging off it. Sometimes he falls while kissing Peter and Peter would be laughing away and Wade can’t even be mad because the man’s giggles are cute af)

So now whenever Peter slides down in front of Wade, it’s a make out session or a peck on the lips with or without the mask. Whatever it is, it’s a Spider-Man kiss. It’s Wade’s number 1 favorite thing that he would always beg Peter to do. If the man doesn’t, he’ll do it. (Wade on his knees, hugging Peter’s legs: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE) (Peter, arms crossed as he looks down at the pitiful man: Oh my god, FINE!)

[presleyluvschris]

chilly

pairing(s): mcu peter parker x sick!fem!reader

desc basically im obsessed with sick!fics. posted one a while back for another fandom 🤭 just peter worried.

a/n holy shit im so sorry i haven't been posting lately my loves. my house is currently being sold and i've been running ramped. i wrote this after i had time off work. hope you enjoy.

warnings language, fluff, grammar. (please message me if i missed any!)

@cozytober2023

requests | open 💌 masterlist

It was only October 7th and you we're already a stuffy snotty sticky mess from the sudden drop of temperature outside.

It was cold outside, but the light from your wooden bedroom windows sunbathed the room, brightening your pale complexion.

tissues were plastered all over your messy bed and your phone was constantly dinging with messages from your group chat. you didn't show up to work, or to school that day, and by the looks of your random naps and binge watches on Netflix, you had forgot to call anyone to let them know you couldn't make it, including your boyfriend peter.

you kept coughing which made your head pulsate more as you wrapped your blanket around you and curled into it, squirming and desperately trying to get comfortable.

he was always super protective of you. sometimes it was really annoying but it felt good to know he was always thinking of you. and thats probably an understatement.

you felt sick. that might've been a blunt word, but everytime you tried to swallow your own spit it hurt like hell and you felt your head beating in pain like a heart would pump blood.

you groan and pull your comforter back over your head before you flutter your eyes closed and try to get your mind off the pain in your throat. It burned everytime you breathed which made you hiss uncomfortably. You eventually get yourself to fall asleep (after way too many doses of NyQuil) with half of your body immersed in your pillow.

you rested softly for a few hours before you woke to the sound of peter climbing through your window. you're eyes could barely adjust to the light as your tried to look up to see who it was, but your body was too tired to try and shake yourself up.

he rolled on the floor after falling from your complicated window sill but quickly got up with a groan.

he puffs, dusting him self off as he looks around the room for his girl.

"love?" peter looked around curiously to find you laying in your bed.

he carefully knelt down and shook you slightly as you woke up again with a jump.

you cough. "jesus, peter. you scared the shit out of me." you shift your arms behind you to prop yourself up, as he tucks a piece of your hair that fell back behind your ear.

"sorry," he laughs. "i just got really worried. I came as soon as I could. are you alright? why weren't you at school? or work- MJ said you didn't come."

his smile turns into a concerned perplexed look.

"uh", you sit up and rub your eye, coughing.

he noticed you sweating, and your puffy red eyes and a nose rubbed red.

"are you feeling okay?" his eyes and face look soft for you as his lip pouted a little.

he comes closer to you, kneeling down as he rests his hand on your forehead gently. you press your lips together and sniffle.

"pete, im fine."

"but- you're burning up!" he adds, as you look away from him.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier? i could've taken school off or-"

"peter." you look up.

"no." you croak, "i would never let you do that."

He puffs his cheeks and breathes out as he sits with you in your bed. You look in your boyfriends eyes as he turns his head to examine you.

"you don't look well, sweets." he frowns as he kisses the top of your forehead.

"i know", you say as you sniffle and your face starts to tickle a little.

he hands you a tissue as you sneeze in your sleeves. "bless you." he rests his tongue to the side of his mouth.

spidey senses.

"you okay?" he looks at you.

"mhm", you purse your lips.

you blow your nose as he looks at your face again.

"you gonna let me take care of you?" he holds his breath in worry.

you shake your head. "no."

he frowns again. "but you're sick! you're my girlfriend I can't just leave you here." He seems stressed, folding his his hands on your arms.

you cough and add, "i don't want you to get sick. plus, you have patrol tonight."

he shakes his head. "no way, im staying."

"No." you look in his eyes.

"Yes." he nods.

"No, peter."

"Yes, y/n." he crosses his arms.

you sigh.

"im staying right here." He says determinedly as he wraps his arms around you from behind and rests his chin on your shoulder. worry chilled up his spine for you.

"okay," you give up. "its cold anyway." you couldn't resist him. you didn't want him to patrol in the this insane cold weather anyways.

you pull a sweatshirt over your head.

"movie?" we whispers. "i'll get you snacks." he rubs your back softly.

you sweat a little and try to swallow.

you smile a little, "okay."

coughing, he rubs your arm. "are you okay?" he looks at you worriedly.

"im fine, my body just hurts."

he pulls you in a hug before kissing your head and leaving the room to go to the kitchen.

he gets back almost instantly with a bag of candy and popcorn, setting it on the bed and a mug of hot tea for your throat on the bedside table.

"can i get you anything else?" he looked sad.

your heart warmed and hurt at the same time.

"no, im okay."

he places a bowl of soup down next to the mug as you lean over to take it and sip it gently.

he lays in your bed as you open your laptop to the same crime documentary.

"again?" he groans, shifting his neck up against the pillow as he scrunches his face, looking at the ceiling.

as you giggle he looks up to see your smile which made his stomach hurt.

"yes, again." you try to hold back your lips from curling into a laugh.

he sighs and clicks the play button on your computer.

you rest your head on his chest, snuggling into him as he lays his arm around you, intertwining your hand into his.

"love you." he whispers in your hair softly, tucking a kiss to the back of your head.

taglist my idols/inspo @everythingisawayoflife @cafekitsune @luveline @scarthefangirl @elliexmylove @thevoidsaidnothanks @thestarvingwriter @spider-stark @bittenbyyou @incorrectmarvelquote @badass-dora-milaje @yes-i-am-happyaspie join my taglist ♡

[webslingingslasher]

please angsty queen give us “ranting to a close friend/parent about what they're upset about before they make confrontation just to make sure they aren't overreacting” and “why are you looking at me like that” 🫢

more fluffy than angsty, but i still put some in there bestie.

*mcu peter

Dating a superhero was hard. 

Go figure, right? You don’t think anyone would think it’s easy but the big thing, the real problem in dating one, was that you felt like there was no way to bring up your issues without being selfish. Lately, there was no such thing as Peter time. Dates were pushed off or canceled, he would have you come all the way to his just so he can get pulled away, or get halfway to yours and bail. 

For two weeks straight it hasn’t felt like you had a boyfriend. 

But how do you tell him you feel neglected while he’s out there literally saving people? Hey, Pete? Oh yeah, no, no, it’s nothing, just feeling a little left out, can you stop that guy from dying and come cuddle? Yeah, it was hard. 

One side feels bad, the other is shameful. That side says that Peter could take time away, that he couldn’t always save everyone, that sometimes he could just leave things to the police. But that’s a dark side you’d never talk about, ever. 

You just really needed to talk about it, with anyone other than Peter. You couldn’t tell your boyfriend that he was lacking in his department because he was being a hero. 

“MJ, thank god.” She was the best person to talk to, she took no sides and told it how it was. She could also keep a secret, the only time you let a person play a fence is MJ, she knows too much to ever pick a side. 

“Hola,” She snaps a piece of her apple off, and looks down at her book. Your head looks around the lunchroom, curly hair is nowhere to be found, you need to speak quickly. 

“I need your advice,” you lick your lips and lean forward, she dog ears the page she’s on and closes the book, “go on,” paranoid you look around once more. 

“It’s about Peter.” 

MJ flickers her eyes up, a hand is placed on your shoulder, a kiss dropped on the top of your head. 

“What’s about Peter?” 

You freeze, he’s Spider-Man but you swear he’s rubbed a sixth sense onto you, you just knew he’d pop up. 

“Your birthday’s coming up,” he laughs and sits next to you, “no it’s not,” you look to MJ for support, she gives none, you picked a shitty excuse. “It’s like, seven months away, we have to start planning.” 

Peter takes a bite of your sandwich, “now? Who are you inviting, the whole city?” 

You tsk, “there goes the surprise.” 

You reach to steal a fry, he lets you take three. “You’re lying and wanna talk to MJ about me, don’t you, squidward?” 

Your nose scrunches, “is it normal to let the other person know you’re about to shit talk them in a relationship?”

 Peter thinks about it, MJ watches with a smirk, “I don’t think so, it’s normal to vent.” 

“Do you ever shit talk me?” 

He looks into your eyes, you don’t want to know, “I wouldn’t call it shit talk, MJ, would you call it shit talk?” 

She swallows a bite of apple, “nah, you more panic call than anything.” 

Peter hums and looks at you, “five minutes good?” 

You tilt your head, “to do what?” 

Peter nods at MJ, “to shit talk, I’ll leave five minutes before lunch ends, if that’s enough time.” 

You look him up and down trying to figure out his game, he seems sincere. “You seem really okay with this, I don’t trust it.” 

He shrugs, “babe, we’ve been together long enough. I know you’re not mad at me, I can tell, so I don’t think the conversation could be too damaging.” 

You’re still weary, “fine, five minutes.” 

Peter leans to press a kiss to your temple, “deal,” he looks to MJ, “hey, what was that thing Jason whispered to you in class?” 

MJ cackles, “okay, listen to this,” you follow in conversation until Peter looks at his watch, he kisses your cheek, “times up, see you later.” 

He sends a salute to MJ and finds his way to the double doors, pushing out. 

“Yeah, I could see how you’d want to shit talk him.” 

You groan, “he makes it so hard! Like, this is why I need to talk to you, I feel so evil when I think about telling him bad things.” 

“Okay, what’s up then?” 

“I don’t feel like I have a boyfriend anymore, MJ.” Her eyes widened, “oh shit.” You sigh, “he’s constantly running out on me, canceling dates, not replying for hours at a time, and I feel so shitty because I get so annoyed but I know he’s doing it for a good reason.” 

“And you’d feel selfish telling him because you know what he’s doing when he cancels.” 

You point, “ding, ding, ding. I’m just getting to this place where I feel like I’m being neglected. I don’t like feeling like everytime I’m with my boyfriend I’m on borrowed time. MJ, I…” The words burnt your tongue but it’s a thought that's been on your mind, “MJ, I don’t know how much longer I can do this.” 

MJ frowns, she couldn’t imagine you two not being together, you just made sense. 

“Want my opinion?” 

You nod, MJ clears her throat and shuffles forward. Her hands intertwined and rested on the table, “He’s Spider-Man, but he also needs to be Peter Parker. You deserve to have time with your boyfriend, he needs you to tell him that he’s not splitting his time enough. It doesn’t make you selfish to want Peter.” 

“I should tell him, you think?” 

“If you don’t it’ll turn into resentment, then there’s no coming back.” 

You accept her advice, it confirms how you’ve been feeling, you’ll talk to him and he’ll fix it, then it’ll be okay. 

—-----------------------------

Peter caught you after lunch, his hand wrapped yours and he placed a kiss to the back of it. 

“Consensus?” 

“We should talk.” Peter wouldn’t admit it, but that made his stomach drop. You were talking about him to a friend and then said those words, it didn’t sit well with him, a wave of panic hit him, he didn’t want to talk to you, he was scared of what you would say. 

“Yeah, of course, baby. After school? You can come over, May’s gonna be out all night, we have the place to ourselves.” 

It sounds like a perfect opportunity, if you play your cards right Peter may even spend the whole night home with you. You press up on your feet to place a kiss on the corner of his mouth, “sounds perfect,” it settled his nerves some. 

He felt even better when you sat on his lap during the train ride, your arm wrapped out his neck, his own was wrapped around your waist, sharing headphones you rested your head against his. Peter felt like you were loving up on him, and you were, but mostly because you felt touch starved from him, and this was the first time in a while you had him all by yourself. 

Peter tapped your thigh when his stop came up, you stood with his hand intertwined with yours. They swung the whole walk back, talking about school and May’s new friend from work, throwing in plans for the weekend, it sent a small pang to your heart, you were scared of them failing. 

He tossed his keys on the kitchen counter, his backpack sitting on a bar chair. “What’s up?” 

“I, uh,” you pause to think of the right words, “I’ve been feeling a little-” Peter’s police scanner went off, a bank robbery. You felt the air leave your lungs, you couldn’t even talk about the problem because of the problem. 

“I’m sorry, baby. I need to go.” He dashed to his room, quickly stripping to get his suit on. You couldn’t handle it anymore, you follow him and stop him as he’s pulling his suit up his waist. 

“Peter, I really need to talk to you.” 

His eyes flit to yours, he pulls his arm through a sleeve. “Baby, I gotta go. We can talk later.” 

You feel bold, maybe this is the wrong time but MJ is right, resentment is building. 

“No, Peter, we need to talk.” 

He presses his chest, his suit conforms. You hate the sight of it right now, a thought of hiding it passes by. 

“And we can talk later, there’s nothing pressing. I have to go.” 

“Our relationship is pressing, Peter.” 

His eyes narrow, “are you saying it’s on the line?” 

You look at the window behind him, “it will be if you leave.” 

The scanner bleats in the quiet room, they’re requesting back up. Tension is building, you both are die hard on your stances, neither wanting to bend. 

“I need to go, someone could need me.” 

Your words cry out, like you’re pleading to him, “I need you!” 

Peter breathes in and out, he feels bad but he’s needed elsewhere, you’ll be okay, others might not. 

“You have me, I promise. But, really baby, I need to go.” 

You blink tears in your eyes, you’re telling him you need him and he’s leaving, he’s ignoring, he’s brushing you off, he’s not taking you seriously. 

He pulls his window open, you can’t believe he’s leaving. 

“If you go then I’m leaving, I’m not going to wait around for you. Not anymore.” 

Peter doesn’t know what that means, “promise me you’ll stay here, I’ll come right back, I promise. Then I’m all yours, okay?” 

He doesn’t even give you a chance to respond, swinging off before you could even get words out. It hurt, and he didn’t believe you. He thinks he can just get away with things, that no matter what he did or how long he disappeared you’d be waiting. 

Well, he was wrong. You didn’t need this, not anymore. This time, Peter could come to you, you tried and he refused to listen. If he wanted this relationship then he’d fight for it like he did Spider-Man. 

You packed your things and left, when Peter came home an hour later you were gone without a trace, he tried to call you but all he got was your voicemail. 

—---------------------------

The next morning he came, almost, running up to you. “Hey! I tried calling you last night.” You didn’t sound nearly as happy to see him as he was, “I know, I ignored you.” His eyebrows pinched, “why?” You pushed the arm he had around your shoulder off, it was petty but you were proving a point, things weren’t fine and you won’t pretend they were. 

“You didn’t want to talk to me, I didn’t want to talk to you.” 

Peter hated to fight, this was bordering on fight territory, he wanted to avoid that at all costs. 

“Hey, if this is about last night I’m sorry, I really am. Come over later, I promise I’ll listen.” 

You sigh and shake your head, “you know, Peter, I’m really tired of you promising me your time then taking it away.” 

“I’m not doing it on purpose, you saw how it went down yesterday, there was nothing I could do.” 

There was, it was to choose that you were the more important thing at the time.

“Peter, it’s getting really hard to have a boyfriend I can’t rely on.” 

Internal panic hits again. “What does that mean?” 

You look him over, “it means I don’t really want to talk to you today.” And with that, you walk away. 

—---------------------

Peter was in a funk all day, you stayed true to your word and stayed away unless you needed to talk to him. He understood that what you needed to talk to him about was important, so he decided it was important to him too, he also really missed holding your hand all day. 

You weren’t even home for four hours before he was knocking at your door, Peter could deprive himself from you fine, but when he was aware of it he counted every second. Your plan worked. 

“Hi.” 

“Hi.” 

“Please talk to me, I miss you.” 

You opened your door and gestured for him to come in, he followed you right to your bedroom. He takes a seat on your bed and looks at you expectantly. You didn’t know how to start, you just tried being honest.

“I feel like you don’t spend time with me anymore.” Your words were small, you feel so selfish. 

“I don’t-” 

“For the past couple weeks I’ve felt like I didn’t have a boyfriend, it feels like everytime we hang out you run out on me for something Spidey related. And I hate telling you this, I’ve been bottling it up but MJ said it would lead to resentment and I don’t want to resent you and ruin the relationship, so even though I feel really selfish I just have to tell you this.” 

He’s waiting on you, he’s letting you speak your mind. 

“I know you’re doing important things, and I know the city needs you but I need Peter. I need my boyfriend, I need to have date nights and personal time and I need to not feel neglected.” 

You’re rambling, you need him to talk. He’s looking at you weird, it’s a new look, you can’t place it. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” 

Peter feels choked on words, “I’m sorry. I’m just… really sorry.” 

“I don’t know how to tell you without feeling bad. I don’t want you to feel like you have to make a choice, I don’t want you to choose, I just want-” 

“-Me to choose you sometimes.” 

You breathe out, “yeah.” 

“I get it. I may be Spider-Man but you’re dating Peter, and you need him more right now. I can do that, I’ll plan things better. We can do a designated date night, nothing but earth ending situations can break it. And from now on maybe Spidey doesn’t need to go out for every cop call.” 

You nibble on your bottom lip, “really?” 

He reaches forward to grab your hand, “I don’t want you to resent me and I don’t want you to resent Spidey, I just get so caught up in it sometimes, I need you to ground me.” 

“You’re not mad at me?” 

“For needing me and wanting to spend more time with me, your boyfriend? I could never. Let’s make a schedule, we can plan around Spider-Man. I could do a few hours with you after school then do Spidey after you leave? Or if you want I could-” 

You cut him off with a kiss and thirty minutes later he’s on top of you kissing up and down your neck, his lips ground themselves to yours, you can’t remember the last time he’s touched you like this. His hands slide up your shirt and you exhale into his mouth, you jump when his scanner goes off. 

“All units to Goldburg’s Golds and Gems, active robbery and hostage in progress.” The radio scratched the voice of the operator, Peter barley breaks from your mouth, you hold your breath and wait for the apology, the promise of one last time. 

Instead he reaches out to the scanner and turns it off, he returns to kissing you, then trails down your neck. 

“You sure you don’t need to go?” 

Peter’s words vibrate against your collarbone, “let NYPD’s finest handle it, my girl needs me more.” 

With that he tugs your shirt off. 

[casualcomicfan]

Things non-comic fans get wrong about Peter Parker.

Several people who don't read the comics seem to get ideas about characters and how they act. It's fine when you're doing to characters you know about, but for characters you don't know about, not so much.

Please note: This post is not meant to gate keep anyone from comics, MCU or any other Marvel related products.

#1: He is ugly. This one is false for the most part. Look at the women he has dated, Liz Allan, Gwen, MJ, Black Cat, Carol Danvers and others.

#2: He is naive. This one is also false. Peter is optimistic. There is a difference. Peter himself recognizes that the world is a terrible place. However he thinks it can get better. That is the whole point of him not killing his enemies.

#3: He has to suffer to be relatable. No, just no. This one is false. He doesn't have to suffer to be relatable. He is relatable because he deals with relatable problems. He is nerdy, has to make ends meet, etc. That is how he was relatable. Not suffering. And certainly not whatever the f#ck is going on in the current run.

#4: He is hated by other heroes. This one mainly stems from the Superior Spider-Man comic arc, but is still blatantly wrong. He has several friends in the comics, such as: Daredevil, Deadpool (to an extent) Wolverine, Luke Cage, Johnny Storm, Cloak and Dagger, and several others.

#5: He is not respected by the other heroes. This was also caused by Superior Spider-Man. However several people respect him. Mr. Fantastic and Iron Man respect him for his intelligence. Captain America calls him on of the greatest men he's ever known. Thor says (in a complimentary way) that he was the most mortal man he knew. T'Challa let him eat a Heart-Shaped Herb. Hulk was one of the few people who knew Peter's identity after OMD.

#6: He was a teenager for most of his publication history. The first ever Spider-Man comic was published in August 1962 in Amazing Fantasy #15. He he graduated and became an adult on June 8, 1965 in The Amazing Spider-Man Volume 1 #28.

[writeroutoftime]

you found me

(neither gifs are my own)

pairing: mcu!peter parker x reader

summary: as the multiverse is in peril, peter promises he will find you after strange's spell is cast. but how can peter remind you of who you are and what you mean to him?

warnings: angst but then fluff!

words: 1.4k

a/n: so, I just rewatched no way home and had this idea, which was so much fun to write! also, I just couldn't help but imagine the whole "I will always find you" line from the show once upon a time. that was my middle/early high school obsession lol. anyways, enjoy and please let me know what you think!

oOoOo

The wind whipped around him, and the adrenaline pumped through his system at rapid speed. Peter knew he had only minutes, but he couldn't help but take in the sight of Ned, MJ and - most importantly - you one last time.

"Listen, you're all about to forget who I am." Peter spoke. "Strange agreed to cast this spell to end all of this."

"What? No!" Ned and MJ shouted as you simply stared at Peter with tears in your eyes.

If the entire multiverse wasn't on the line, Peter would have broken at the look you gave him. But this was for the people he loved, for you. He had to make this sacrifice to keep everyone safe.

"But you'll find us." you finally spoke up, voice shaky yet confident. "You're going to find me, and then we'll figure it out. Together."

Peter couldn't help but smile. Even with all that had happened, you still had immense faith in him. He swore to himself he would find the three of you and make it all right again.

"Yes, I'll find you." he vowed, taking you in his arms. "I got you to fall for me once, I can do it again." he chuckled, pressing his forehead against yours one last time.

You revealed in the gesture, unbothered by how selfish you were being with Peter's time. After a few moments, you pulled back and quickly worked to unclasp the necklace that sat against your neck.

Hurriedly, you passed the item into Peter's hand and shut his fingers around it. "I know you will. And then you can give me this." you told him, cupping his face and savoring one last kiss.

Peter was the first to pull away, committing the last smile you would give him as more than a stranger to memory. This would not be the last time he held you in his arms. It couldn't be.

oOoOo

Days morphed into weeks, and weeks into months. Peter was well and truly on his own in New York like he never existed in the first place. That first week he holed up in his new apartment, mourning the loss of his life - of you.

But when the self-pity subsided, Peter marched down the busy streets and checked all your frequent spots until he finally found you one day. The sun framed your figure like a spotlight, and Peter felt as though the breath had been stolen from him. It was like falling in love all over again.

Your melodic laughter rang out of the coffee shop, face scrunched up over a joke MJ shared with you and Ned. The scene tugged at his heart, and suddenly, fear washed over Peter. He looked down to his hands and gripped your necklace even tighter.

It had been a present he gifted you on your first birthday the two of you celebrated as a couple. It was a small, dainty necklace he had laughed at when he first saw it. You had found out early on that Peter Parker was Spiderman, and so the silver spider quickly became a prized possession for you. Often times it was slipped underneath your clothing to tamp down any suspicion, but it was always on you, claiming it was a good luck charm for the both of you.

Looking down at his closed fist and back up to you, Peter was suddenly seized with fear. What if you never remembered him? Or worse, what if you remembered him and didn't want to be with him anymore?

He watched you for a few more moments and saw how carefree you looked. Could he really subject you to all the chaos and danger his life entailed all over again? He vowed he would find you and make you remember, but he had also promised himself to also protect you. Maybe this was how that happened.

Without another glance, Peter turned on his heel and dashed out the door. Clueless to the fact that you caught a fleeting glimpse of him as he ran away, curious and left with an empty feel afterwards.

Over the next three weeks, Peter continued to see you from afar at the coffee shop you frequented. Each time, he ached to be near you, but held back from approaching. He just had to know you were okay, remind himself that he was making the right choice.

What Peter hadn't taken into account was the chance that you would notice - and be interested in - him. It was during the fourth week that you finally approached Peter's table as he poured over his study materials, looking down at him rather nervously.

"Hi." you began softly. "I'm sorry to bother you, but I've seen you around here recently. You look so familiar. Have we met?"

Here it was, he thought as his heart beat rapidly. Peter's chance to explain everything and make you remember him. But as he opened his mouth, it seemed his mind had a different plan.

"N-no. I don't think so." he said. Your shoulders sagged at his words, sparking something within Peter. Even now, he never wanted to be the source of your disappointment. "But, uh, I'm Peter. Peter Parker." he introduced.

You offered a dazzling smile, sticking your hand out. "Hi, Peter, it's nice to meet you. I'm y/n." you introduced, taking the seat across from him.

oOoOo

Peter swore he fell for your twice as hard this time around. The two of you talked for hours that first day at the coffee house. Of course, he feigned innocence and pretended not to know the answers to all the questions he asked. But, regardless, it felt so wonderful to be near and to talk to you again.

It became a regular occurrence for the two of you to meet at the coffee shop, but your exchanges quickly expanded outside of the shop's walls. Each time he saw you, Peter tried to gauge if there was any spark to demonstrate you remembered him and your lives together, but each time he was disappointed. Never in you. In himself over the entire situation.

Soon enough, Peter had invited you over to his apartment when the weather derailed your plans of a stroll around the park. You happily accepted, wanting to know more about the man who had quickly become such an important part of your life. He led you into the studio apartment and left you to explore for a minute while he ran to grab a glass of water in the kitchen.

Glancing around Peter's apartment, you noticed how little decoration or personalization there was. No pictures on his dresser or posters on the walls, only a few post-it notes scattered here and there. The one thing that did catch your eye, however, was a flash of a silver necklace that laid delicately on the dresser.

Peter hardly seemed like the jewelry type and so you stepped forward to inspect it further. Slowly, you reached out your hand and threaded the cool metal chain between your fingers, the pendant hanging in the air. A small laugh left your lips as you noticed the necklace was of spider silhouette.

There was something that struck you about the necklace. It was so familiar, almost as if it were out of a dream. Somewhere deep inside, there was an urge to put on the necklace, but before you could, you heard Peter's footsteps behind you.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Peter." you apologized, quickly setting the necklace back where you found it. "I shouldn't have been snooping, I just couldn't help myself."

Peter stared at you, eyes wide and his mouth slightly open. "I-I, no, it's okay." he stuttered out, swallowing harshly. "Uh, it belongs to a real important person in my life." he added, lamely gesturing to the necklace.

"It's beautiful." you admitted, still unsure if Peter was angry or not.

To your surprise, Peter reached around you to pick the necklace back up. He glanced down at the jewelry, before holding it up and gestured to you. Without hesitation, you nodded and turned so that your back faced Peter.

He stepped up behind you and immediately you could feel his warm breath fan against your neck as your breath hitched. He lifted the necklace and let the chain and pendant fall against your skin before he clasped it shut. You reached down and held the spider pendant in your hand, gasping as another rush of recognition ran through you.

Turning around, you looked at Peter who snapped out of his trance zoned in on the necklace. His eyes met yours and there was something behind them you could almost put your finger on. Both of you took a step closer to each other and Peter reached out to gently cup your cheek.

"Just, trust me." he whispered, leaning towards you to mold his lips against yours.

Your eyes fluttered shut, instantly, and you leaned into Peter's chest and the warmth of his chapped lips. Your hands threaded in his hair at the nape of your neck, sighing into the kiss.

Slowly pulling away, your eyes remained closed for just a moment longer. Then, as if suddenly breathing in new life, you gasped loudly and opened your eyes. "Peter." you whispered, gripping tightly to his shirt. "You found me."

Peter made no attempt to stop the tears that fell down his cheeks as he held you close to him, pressing soft, quick kisses all over your face. "I will always find you."

[juneberrie]

WHEN I SEE YOU AGAIN ➜ peter parker, mcu

requested: yes / no — not goodbye. just "see you later"

author's note: i was listening to remi wolf as one does and down the line came on.. and i got the amazing idea to write this. you're welcome! debating whether i should make a part two. . .

ⓘ content: fem!reader, angsty, mcu!peter, takes place during nwh mwahahaha, not proofread

word count : 1.4k || peter parker masterlist

"you're gonna forget who i am," peter blurts out.

"what?" ned says. mj stares at him, a cut on her forehead dripping blood onto her eyebrow.

"peter, what do you mean?" you ask, voice shaking. so much had happened today; you just wanted to go home, take a shower, and curl up in bed with your boyfriend.

"it's okay," he whispers, taking your hand. "i'm gonna come and find you, and i'll explain everything. i'll make you remember me. it'll be like none of this ever happened. okay?"

you shake your head at him. "what are you talking about?" you say quietly. "what– what do you mean, we're gonna forget you?" your voice cracks.

"i'll explain everything when i find you," he repeats. his eyes are welling up with tears. he turns to ned.

"promise?" your friend asks.

"i promise." peter drops your hand quickly to embrace his friend. when they pull away, tears are rolling down both their faces.

peter turns to mj. "i'll come find you."

she steps forward and hugs him. "you better," she warns. "or– or i'm just gonna figure it out."

peter lets out a shaky laugh. "i know you will." he finally turns to you.

"ange–" he starts, but you throw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him. his hands drop to your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

when you finally pull away, he gives you a soft smile. "i love you. don't forget it."

with sobs threatening to spill out of your mouth, you shake your head. "i don't want to. peter," you beg. "isn't there anything we can do?"

he shakes his head, watery eyes staring into yours. "i'm sorry," he murmurs. "i love you," he repeats.

"i love you too," you whisper, burying your face in his chest. he kisses your head, murmuring reassurances.

"i promise i'll fix this," he says. you look up through blurry eyes, taking in your boyfriend one last time. the boy who had been by your side for the past year and a half, building star wars legos, having study dates, binge watching movies. the boy you loved.

he looks behind you, at mj and ned. his face settles into stony determination. "take care of her. of– of each other," he says.

"we will," ned promises. mj gently places a hand on your back.

peter swallows, his adam's apple bobbing. he lets go of your waist. he jumps up onto a piece of a fallen wall, turning back to look at you one last time.

"bye," you say quietly, salty tears streaming down your face.

he shakes his head. "not bye. see you later."

he swung away, leaving the three most important people in his life crying behind him.

2 WEEKS LATER.

the door jingles as someone pushes it open, letting a cold gust of air in the cafe. mj shivers as the air reaches her bare arms.

"it's so fucking cold out," she complains, pouring coffee into a cup. you snort.

"that's why we're inside, mj," you remark, taking a bite of your donut.

she rolls her eyes at you. "you should do stand up," she says, snapping the lid onto the cup and sliding it across the countertop to a waiting customer. "when's ned getting here?"

you check your phone for any texts. "soon. he say's he's almost here."

right as you say that, the door jingles again, and you turn to see a boy holding the door open for ned. "he's here!" you say to mj. she rolls her eyes again, smiling. she turns to the other boy, who looks strangely familiar.

"hey," ned says, sliding into the seat next to you.

"hi," both you and mj reply. she gives the two of you a small smile before turning to look at the boy, who's glancing between you, ned, and mj.

"can i help you?" mj asks. the boy looks slightly startled, but shakes his head and smiles.

"hi!" he clears his throat. "um. hi. i'm peter parker and i....." his voice falters as he looks at you. he takes a deep breath. "i would like a coffee, please," he says.

mj side eyes you and ned, who bites back a laugh. "okay, no problem, peter parker." she turns to grab an empty cup and moves to the coffee pot.

as she does this, you notice the boy, peter's, eyes quickly flitting between you, her, and ned. his eyes lock with yours and you raise an eyebrow, a small smile playing on your lips.

he clears his throat again, looking away. mj hands him the coffee and tells him his total. he pats down his pockets before pulling out a wallet and handing her a few crumpled bills.

"thank you..." he says slowly.

"no problem," mj replies.

he looks at ned's sweater, the mit logo emblazoned on the front. "you excited for mit?" he asks.

"huh?" ned turns to him, then looks down at his sweater. "oh, yeah. which is weird. usually i'm not excited about things. i kind of expect disappointment."

peter takes a sip of his coffee. you see his nose scrunch up slightly. he hates black coffee, you think. you blink. what was that? how would you know that? you shake your head ever so slightly, telling yourself that its a normal reaction to pure black coffee.

tuning back into the conversation, you hear him ask mj, "are you okay?" he's looking at the bandaid on her forehead.

"yeah," she says simply. "don't remember how i got it, but it doesn't hurt anymore."

"thats good," he replies. a silence settles over the coffee shop, the only sound being the wind outside.

"is there anything else you need?" mj asks him.

"um." he glances at you again. "no, actually. thank you."

"no problem. see you around," she says, grabbing a washcloth and starting to wipe down the counter. peter pushes the door open, the bell jingling, and steps into the cold new york air.

immediately, mj turns to you, leaning her elbows on the counter. "he was checking you out," she says bluntly.

"what?" you feel your cheeks get hot. "no way."

ned poked you in the side. "yes way. he was totally into you!"

you shake your head, laughing at the two of them. "yeah, alright."

the three of you laugh. you had to admit, he was pretty cute. but you probably would never see him again, so what was the point in getting caught up with a crush?

walking back to your apartment, you shove one hand in your coat pocket and use the other to fish your key out of your bag. you trudge up the stairs, thankful for the shelter from the freezing, snowy air outside.

as you reach your floor, your hear the landlord say, "rent is due on the first of the month. don't be late." he brushes past you as you make your way towards your apartment.

peter from the coffee shop was standing outside the door in front of yours, struggling to balance a box and slip the key into the lock.

"oh, hey!" you say. he turns to you and nearly drops the box. you grab it before it hits the floor. "need any help?"

his face flushes. "oh– uh, yeah, that'd be great." you smile at him as he fumbles with the key, finally getting it in the lock and twisting the knob. he pushes the door to his apartment open, holding it open for you. you set the box down on the kitchen counter, then turn to him.

"i'm y/n," you offer.

"peter," he replies. he hesitates before holding his hand out for you to shake. you laugh at his nervousness. it was kind of endearing.

"nice to meet you, peter," you smile, taking his hand. "hey, if you need any help moving in—" you point across the hall, to your door. "—i'm right over there."

he smiles. "that'd be great." he glances down at your still joined hands and flushes slightly. he lets go. you stand together in his empty apartment for a few moments.

"well, i'll see you later?" you say, a hopeful smile on your face.

"yeah, yeah," he nods quickly. "sure."

"cool," you smile. "well, bye!" you step out of your newfound friend's apartment, fishing your key out of your pocket.

"see you later," you hear him murmur. smiling to yourself, you unlock your door and slipping inside and shutting your door. you can't wait to tell mj about this.

[aesthetixhoe]

posts and pictures with jack champion — J.C.

warnings: cursing, harry potter username

word count: ---

pronouns used: she/her, fem reader

authors note: reader plays gwen stacy in the mcu spiderman movies. have been wanting to do this style of post with someone for a while and finally settled on jack. formatting and the final push came from @dizscreams <3

liked by devyn_nekoda, lianaliberato, jasminsavoy, and 740,839 others

accio_[y/n] Jack doesn't like planes, too bad we're flying all the way to LA :(

masonthegooding aww, the poor baby needs his mommy? 🥺💔

| jackchampion PLANES ARE SCARY

| jasminsavoy wuss

zendaya you better visit me while you're in LA, I need my Gwen back :(

| tomholland2013 you have me to keep you company 😁

| zendaya oh yayyyy...

| tomhollad2013 what's wrong with me?

| accio_[y/n] you're not me, that's what's wrong with you 🤭

liked by zendaya, lianaliberato, tomholland2013, and 948,394 others

accio_[y/n] look at this buffoonery I woke up to

masonthegooding GROSS 🤢

| jackchampion it was a joke

misstrinitybliss I love you two, but that's gross jackchampion

| jackchampion it was a joke!

jasminsavoy I might throw up

| jackchampion IT WAS A JOKE! I SWEAR!!

| lianaliberato it was not, you talk like this all the time.

liked by masonthegooding, lianaliberato, melissabarreram, and 209,541

jackchampion catching z's 🥱

accio_[y/n] no photo cred? this is absurd!

| jackchampion sorry babe, I'll tag you next time! 🥸

| masonthegooding you should thrown water on him for that

| jasminsavoy you should push him in

| accio_[y/n] I'll do both 😈

liked by zendaya, lifeisaloha, masonthegooding, and 2,490,582 others

accio_[y/n] he thinks he's spiderman...

tomholland2013 HEY THAT'S MY ROLE!

jackchampion I do not think I'm spiderman!

| accio_[y/n] you literally said "take a picture of me so I look like spiderman." 😐

| jackchampion I'll be spiderman if you're my Gwen Stacy

| accio_[y/n] you're a dork

| tomholland2013 I'm ok with this, I have my mj

masonthegooding I'm actually kinda liking spider-jack

liked by zendaya, jackchampion, misstrinitybliss, and 1,684,493 others

accio_[y/n] post red carpet

zendaya I love my Gwen Stacy

| jackchampion that's my line 🥲

devyn_nekoda you're welcome for the amazing picture 🙄

| accio_[y/n] thank you so much bae 😘

jackchampion my beautiful girl. tonight was a blast

| accio_[y/n] I love you

liked by jackchampion, accio_[y/n], devyn_nekoda, and 319,485 others

masonthegooding these two are insufferable.

accio_[y/n] you know it!

| jackchampion we just cool like that 😎

devyn_nekoda you have to admit, they are cute together.

| masonthegooding I'll never admit it.

Liked by zendaya, jackchampion, jasminsavoy, and 1,384,829 others

accio_[y/n] you got me spinning like a ballerina. happy two years to my beautiful boy <3

jackchampion my favorite girl 🩷

masonthegooding this is grossly cute.

| devyn_nekoda YOU'RE ADMITTING IT!

masonthegooding your caption is cringe tho

| accio_[y/n] your face is cringe, boom!

taglist: @wenvierismycomfort @beggingforxavierthorpe @ourloveisgod23 @sssi-nr @eliza1720 @writinganything @snaackthatsmilesback @dizscreams @saintlulls @xyzstar @urmomlovesliyah

[jahayla-parker]

🎆 Hey J!! Congrats on your 1.5 followers I'm so proud of you girl!! So for my request I was wondering if it could be a Peter Parker one where y/n is somehow transported into Spider-Man: Homecoming, Spider-Man: Far From Home, or Spider-Man No Way Home you pick and chaos ensues 💜

Multiverse : Peter Parker x Real-world!Reader

Descr: short fic in which y/n finds herself in her favorite movie and has to decide how to proceed.

Warnings: I’m not really great at these kind of AUs but other than that, I can’t think of any but let me know!

This sucks; I'm sorry, nothing was coming to me

Y/n bounced her right leg nervously as she looked around. She didn’t understand what was going on. One second she had been rewatching the latest Spider-Man movie, No Way Home from the comfort of her apartment. The next, she was standing in front of a glowing circle, identical to the ones that were portals in the movie she’d been watching. She hesitated briefly but nevertheless let her courage guide her into the multi-dimensional opening.

Y/n squinted as her eyes adjusted to her new surroundings. She quickly realized she’d somehow seemingly entered into the Marvel Cinematic Universe. How that was possible, she wasn’t certain. Had it not been for her literally pinching herself several times, she’d have thought she was simply dreaming. But she wasn’t. This was real.

Y/n slowly made her way across the bridge, stopping the moment she heard the fighting begin. She was actually in No Way Home.. or… in the universe that held the No Way Home events..? She wasn’t sure how to phrase it, it was all so bizarre. Either way, she knew from having seen the movie countless times already, that she ought to run and hide unless she wanted Dr. Octavius or Green Goblin to harm her.

Y/n let her feet guide her away from the immediate threat, only looking up when her legs came to a halt. She blinked rapidly as she found herself standing in front of Doctor Strange’s Sanctum. Of course she’d managed to make it here. Perhaps she should just go with the flow and try to help. After all, she knew how things would go, maybe she could prevent Tom Holland’s char Peter from getting hurt and May from dying.

That idea turned out too optimistic as Peter understandably was weary of y/n. It was one thing to bring people who knew him/Spider-Man from other universes. But a universe in which he was actually just a character and not real, that was another thing to digest. Nevertheless, Peter didn’t want to take any chances so he let her help him, Ned, and MJ.

It was a bit difficult at first to get Peter to trust her. As in his eyes, she seemed to be able to tell the future and was offering to stop the bad things before they happened. Luckily, having seen Far From Home, y/n understood why he was so weary of such a thing being too good to be true. So even when Peter trapped her in a sheet of webs as he demanded answers he could understand, she remained calm.

Once he had heard her out and understood that she meant no harm, Peter let y/n guide him on what to do and what not to do. There were some moments of chaos nonetheless as they were trying new things that y/n knew Peter hadn’t done in the movie before. But, she figured it was worth all the danger and chaos because she was helping her favorite superhero.

Only that too was much more intense than y/n had anticipated. Yet, she was simultaneously thrilled to be playing an active part in the movie she loved so much. Especially since they were now near the ending and May hadn’t died!

The only issue is y/n now had to return to her own universe. As much as she wanted to stay and make a place for herself in this one, she refused to risk ruining the MCU by accident. So, with a sigh, y/n closed her eyes as she said goodbye to this universe before stepping back into hers.

Taglist: @justapurrcat @natswife-marvelicious @directioner5life @ell0ra-br3kk3r @galaxyholland @bigbirdstwins @mcushvft @fishingirl12 @raajali3 @theslayerofthevampires @wonderland2425

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[devilfic]

❝small favor❞

V. the christmas special.

parts: previously / next plot: it's the most beautiful time of the year. pairing: mcu!peter parker x gn!reader. cw: christmas shenanigans, alcohol mentions, harry gets drunk for norman osborn related reasons, peter is a little ball of anxiety because he likes you, can I share with you what jobs I think ned and mj got after graduation. words: 8.4k.

a/n: this was gonna be a two-parter but I thought. no. so instead it's just super long :D

Peter has started visiting more.

There were the surprise visits on weekends. Something was just too important to wait a week, and too important to give you a call, and you liked that he made a note of bringing you food for the trouble. Then he was popping in on Wednesday nights—sometimes Friday mornings—because he'd forgotten to tell you this or he just couldn't wait to tell you that.

And he has texting you more, too. Not super serious things either, and after a few days of it, you had worked the fight or flight reaction to his ringtone out of your system. At some point, you had started feeling like this was becoming... a genuine friendship.

"I mean... I... yeah. We talked about it, didn't we?" Peter stops pouring, brownie batter dribbling off the lip of the bowl, "Friends. I- I think of you as a friend. If you think of me... as a friend."

You gnaw on your pen as you study him. It's another weekend surprise visit, and this time he's brought you boxed brookie batter as an olive branch. You'd actually been busy this time, and so you'd put him to work baking it while you made your vacation list, "It's just... crazy. I mean, we went from being strangers to only seeing each other once a week—purely professionally—and now you bake me things. And we hang out."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing! It's just weird," he continues to pour as you talk, "I used to see you as this unattainable hero. I couldn't believe you trusted me, felt comfortable enough to tell me your name, to care enough that even EDITH knows who I am. And now we're friends."

Peter's nose scrunches at that, and you've never wished more than now that you could see the rest of his face. He starts placing balls of cookie dough in the batter, "You talk about me like I'm Beyoncé or something."

"You're the Beyoncé of superheroes."

"Hey, that is not true. That title goes to Captain Marvel."

"Not to me."

"Well, of course not to you. You're my biggest fan."

"Wow, demoted to a fan already."

Peter slides the pan into the oven, "You know what I mean. You're biased."

"You're starting to sound like Jameson now."

He kicks the oven door closed and hops up onto the kitchen counter next to you, nudging your knee with his knee, "Oh, you haven't heard my Jameson impression. Watch this." Peter clears his throat, clenches his fist, and shakes it in the air, "Spider-Man is a menace and should be charged with domestic terrorism!"

You giggle, "Do more."

"5G isn't giving your kids cancer, it's Spider-Man leaving his webs all over the city!"

"More!"

"Spider-Man is laying eggs in our city's sewers so that one day, all his freaky spider children will rise up and take over New York!"

"Please, keep going."

Peter groans. You see his head tilt toward the notepad in your lap, "How's the vacation going? Or vacation planning, I guess."

You sigh. Your list to pack kept getting longer, and yet, anytime you tried to focus on what to bring, you would just remember something else you needed to do before leaving New York. "How do you think, based on my utter lack of excitement?"

Peter raises a brow, "Whaaat? You're not excited for Miami?"

"I was, but... everything in the world is happening at the same time. Jameson wants me to get two more articles out before I leave and my family wanted me in Florida three days ago. At this rate, I'm just barely going to make it there before Christmas. Not to mention..." You trail off as you look to Peter, whose mask eyes have gone comically wide in interest, "I don't want to leave you all alone."

"You know I've been Spider-Manning since I was like, 14, right?"

"Well, yeah, but- wait, 14?" Peter grimaces. You gloss over it before he can worry himself about it, "Anyway, I just worry. I mean, with Fisk turning the PR tide and God knows what he's planning, I don't wanna just fly to the other side of the country. It feels wrong."

Peter smirks, "Nah, nah. It's fine. I can take care of myself."

"Don't make me remind you about how all of this," you gesture between Peter and the oven, "started." He looks away from you, sheepish. "You know what I mean, right? Maybe I'm overestimating my worth to you, but-"

"You're definitely not. You have no idea how much you mean to me." That stuns you. It stuns both of you, clearly, if Peter's frantic peek at your face was anything to go by. His mouth gapes like a fish out of water for a moment, "I just mean that... you've made being Spidey... easier on me. It's nice knowing someone's actually on my side in this city. So yeah, it will feel really weird without you being just a swing away."

"You can still call, Peter. I won't mind."

"And when your family asks who's bothering you while you're sunbathing on the beach?"

"I mean, my little cousins will be impressed if I name drop Spider-Man."

He smiles. He kicks his feet out, heels bumping the cabinet doors beneath you while silence settles. You take this chance to examine a slight fraying on the fabric of his suit, a hole beginning to form on his upper thigh that you could just fit your pinky through. You remembered a time when his suit was made out of sweatpants and a dream.

He was 14 when he first started all of this. When you were 14, you were stressing over high school essays and alien invasions. You couldn't help but think that maybe he'd lost his youth to this thing. This thing that brought you together.

Spider-Man who, back then, was really a kid. He'd had to grow into it. You couldn't imagine having to grow into that. "Well, that's enough about my holiday plans. What about you?" Peter prepares to answer, then deflates. "What's up?"

He bites his bottom lip, "I don't... have any."

Your heart sinks, "What? Why not?"

"No, no, it's fine. I'll probably be out on patrol making sure everybody else is having a safe, criminal-free winter break."

Sliding off the counter, you come to stand in front of Peter with your arms folded, "Absolutely not."

"Okay, before you say anything-"

"It's Christmas, Peter! You're supposed to take time off! Be with friends and family. If you never take a break, you'll wear yourself out."

"Just hear me out-"

"No! I won't have it. You're not the only hero in New York. You're taking Christmas off. I don't care if I have to stuff you in a carry-on and take you with me but you will not be working-"

One hand clamps around the back of your head and the other silences you, turning your complaints into mush, "If you would let me finish..." you huff indignantly against his hand, "you'd know that a friend of mine is throwing a Christmas party and I was invited. There. I have plans."

Your face softens. "Really?" You ask, but the sound is muffled and it comes out more like, "Will-ee?"

Peter laughs, hand slipping from your mouth, "Really. I'll at least take a few hours off. Maybe more if I fall into a food coma."

Peter's other hand is still cradling your head, but you don't bring it to his attention. "You promise? I won't have to fly back early and check up on you, will I? 'Cause I'll do it."

"I wouldn't stop you." You glower, making Peter's mask eyes squint with amusement, "I promise."

"Sometimes I think you like making me worry over you."

"Would you believe me if I said that I'm just this awful all the time?"

"Yes, but that would make me worry even more."

The hand at your neck gently curls around the side of your throat, Peter's thumb angling your chin up to his own. The brush of it makes you tremble just slightly.

Was he trying to make you dissolve into a puddle?

"I'll be okay. Just... come back to the city, will ya? Don't fall in love with Miami."

You place one of your hands over the hand on your throat. The other hovers somewhere near his knee on the countertop, unsure of yourself. When you admire his exposed mouth, you think of Peter. Parker.

You remember you hadn't actually talked about that since it happened. It was Peter's intention to skirt around Parker, regardless of how certain you were that they were the same person. It was all in jest, sure, but some small part of you (some incredibly small, minuscule, microscopic part of you) wondered if your reporter brain just fit the two pieces together because it wanted them to fit.

Perhaps he wasn't Peter Parker. Perhaps this really was all a coincidence, and perhaps aliens didn't fall from the sky and gods didn't save the world.

You wouldn't push him on it. You wouldn't look into it either, because reporter brain be damned. You cared more about the Peter you knew than the Peter you didn't.

You smile up at him, "How could I? Miami doesn't have you."

"Nice to see you could finally make it, kiddo." Jillian is grinning at you when you arrive, her baby tucked at her hip and her wife entertaining the little monster over her shoulder. She sees the winded look on your face and immediately motions you over, pressing a hand to your cheek, "Did you crawl out of a snowdrift? You're freezing!"

You lean into it, chasing the warmth in hopes that it would restore some feeling to your skin, "The storm's getting awful out there."

"Came outta nowhere, didn't it?" Jillian's wife snorts, booping the baby's nose. "We almost didn't risk coming with the little one, it was so bad."

Said little one looks perfectly warm wrapped up in her blanket, an envious sight as you shiver and shuck off your coat to hang. You would offer the kid a boop on the nose yourself, but with your fingers frozen solid around your offering—a plate of sugar cookies—you don't want to make her cry. You give her a smile instead.

"Oh, and would you believe it?" Jillian whispers, sidling up to you, primed for gossip, "We've got a real treat here tonight. Take a wild guess who decided to show up."

"Jonah's wife?"

Jillian cackles, "God no. The stalker."

As soon as she says the name, your eyes zero in on him.

He's wearing that plaid shirt again, but the collar and cuffs are all that peek out from underneath a wrinkly blue sweater. His hair is free and gelled back, revealing his nervous expression more clearly. Nursing a cup of apple cider, he just barely looks like he wants to be here. But then he catches your eye across the room.

And he waves.

"Oh my," Jillian teases, "you must've left quite the impression if he came all this way just to see you."

"He did not come just to see me." You reply in a hushed tone, but she laughs at you all the same.

"Sure. And that's not him heading over right now, even though he's been hugging the wall all night."

You jerk your head to where Parker was standing, and, sure enough, he's pursuing you.

You part from Jillian before she can get the chance to embarrass you (she accepts your cookies as payment), and so you all but jog to meet him halfway.

He doesn't get the chance to be polite before you're interrogating him, "Where did you go?"

"Uh... What?"

"At the gala. When I ran back inside the ballroom, I couldn't find you anywhere."

Peter's eyes slowly widen, "You went back inside?"

"Answer the question, please."

"Wh- I... I was there. You didn't see me?"

"No, I didn't."

"It got crazy after Fisk rushed the stage. I got swept up in the crowd. You must've missed me."

"Really? 'Cause I was with the crowd, you know. In front of the building? Where Fisk was giving his big speech about how he saved the day? I didn't see you anywhere."

Peter blinks, then gasps as if he'd just remembered something important, "You know what? That's right. I went to go find Harry. I wanted to make sure he was alright, and then I couldn't find you in the crowd so I just assumed... I'm sorry for leaving you back there all alone." You watch as he fumbles for something convincing, "I texted Spider-Man about it, though. He said you were safe."

You fold your arms, "...Is that all he said about me?"

"Well, that. And something about your conspiracy theory?"

"Conspiracy theory."

The topic change gets some of the tension in Peter's shoulders melting away, replaced with a smile faint enough to not pass as overtly smug. He waits for one of your co-workers to move out of earshot before continuing, "You think... I'm Spider-Man."

Your jaw tightens. You know that anyone would draw the same conclusions you did after that night. You also know that no matter how logical your reasoning is, you sound highly illogical when you admit to it out loud. If you brought up the same accusation to Jillian or Jameson, they'd both laugh you out of the office.

You have to stand your ground, though. If there was one thing you were learning about Peter, it was that he was easy to fluster, "And if I do?"

"I'm flattered, really, but I don't really have the hand-eye coordination."

You know it's bullshit. He should know you know it's bullshit. If it hadn't been for his quick thinking, you and Harry would've been trampled under the masses at the gala. It's bullshit and he's waiting for his checkmate that will never come.

You do not give it a second thought. You toss your phone at Peter's head.

And he catches it. Of course he does. He stops it mere inches from his face.

If anyone saw you try to give him a concussion, they don't come over to question you on it. "Can you..." Peter starts after a breath, a bit dazed, "...can you stop trying to hit me?"

You go to defend yourself because, at the very least, you hadn't meant to try to punch Peter—which meant it didn't count—when someone barrels right into you.

And, to prove you right twice in a row, Peter is quick to catch you. He scoops you up into his arms before you end up a reporter pancake on the floor. One of your co-workers, already blitzed off spiked eggnog, had bumped you on their way to the drinks table for what looked like the umpteenth time tonight, and didn't have enough marbles to apologize before bumping someone else.

Peter is careful in how he holds you. There's that unmistakable strength behind his grip, but also... he was gentle. He felt safe.

You don't make to escape just yet, all your bravado knocked right out of you. "Jesus, you okay?" His eyes dart over to your co-worker and a scowl turns his expression sour, "Jonah should put a cap on the drinks."

You feel more than embarrassed stumbling to your feet, even more so when Peter still coddles you after you're standing upright. "I'm fine. Thanks." Peter's looking at you, brows drawn together, with so much concern it makes that second thought from earlier come in hot with a sizable topping of shame, "Talk about instant karma."

Then it's gone. Peter laughs and... it sounds just like your Peter. Undeniably. You can't help but give in. For a fleeting moment, the question of secret identities has melted away and it's just the two of you, giggling about something silly.

You're ashamed enough to apologize for throwing your phone at his head when the laughter dies down. You succeed in stealing it back and lead him over to the windows, far away from any more drunken disasters, "It's alright. I've had worse thrown at me before."

You raise an eyebrow, "Oh? Like what?"

His voice catches in his throat at first, "A... carton of expired milk. High school bully, Flash Thompson. We were both on the same academic decathlon team but he never gave up on his dream of professional baseball."

"Flash Thompson? You mean, Silicon Valley, MIT grad, tech startup millionaire Flash Thompson?"

Peter winces, "The one and only."

You frown at the distant look on Peter's face, aware of some regret there at the mention of Flash. "You and Harry went to ESU together, right? Is that where you always wanted to go?"

Peter shakes his head, but a smile comes to his face regardless, "MIT was my first choice, actually. But... even with a scholarship, I just couldn't imagine leaving New York behind. So I stayed. Went to ESU. Helped my Aunt May with the mortgage on her first house since my... my uncle passed. And now I'm selling pictures of Spider-Man to pay my rent."

You can't help the way you soften. "I'm so sorry about your uncle, Peter. Your Aunt May is lucky to have you around."

His eyelids flutter closed for a breath, and his smile grows wider. If it were even possible. "I'm lucky to have her."

You stand there together in silence after that, but it feels more comfortable than before. All the scrutiny and speculation you'd come in with had faded away, and now you were left wondering more about Peter. His hopes, his dreams, his life before all of this. What would it have been like if he'd gone to MIT? Where would you be? Or Spider-Man?

Peter's eyes peel open, "So, what about you?"

"Oh. Well, I took a shine to my school newspaper. After... everything in 2012, I knew the world would never be the same. So I had dreams of becoming a journalist, covering the street, being the first on the scene. Took my ass to college on part-time jobs and a dream, and interned at nearly every newspaper in the city before Jameson gave me a shot here. As much as I can't stand the way he talks about Spidey... he's not that bad of a guy. All things considered."

Peter agrees, "He did hire you, so..."

"Yeah, well," you lean your cheek against the window, glass cooling your blush, "At least Spidey doesn't hold it against me... but, I have to ask: why the Bugle? I mean, with photos like yours, you should be fighting off every publication in the city. Instead you turn in these... absolute masterpieces, freelancing, for a guy who can't even give you due credit, and you only stop by for a paycheck."

Peter looks to the window, the wind howling over a crooner's cover of Santa Baby. The storm was still raging on outside, and you dreaded the thought of having to walk through it to get back home. The taxis wouldn't have much luck either from the looks of it. "I... like my job, but it's not what I wanna do forever. I don't care about fame or Pulitzer prizes. It's always been about taking care of me and my Aunt May, and Jameson is a lot of things but he's always understood that. He pays me enough that I can have a place of my own and a little leftover for my aunt, and he doesn't ask questions.

"I don't need to be seen. And that's the whole point, isn't it?" His expression gradually warms as he recalls something, "It's not who's behind the lens that matters, but who's in front of it."

Your expression warms too, "I can see why Spidey likes you."

A notification disturbs the moment. Raising a finger at Peter, you check the latest notification... and your stomach drops.

Peter takes a step forward, sensing the change in atmosphere, "What? What is it?"

"My flight's been cancelled. I was leaving tomorrow for Miami but the storm..."

"Oh. Man, I'm sorry."

"I should've left sooner, I should've left when my family..." You lose the motivation to even finish your sentence, feeling exhausted all at once, "It doesn't matter anymore. I'm stuck here for Christmas."

Peter stuffs his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his feet as he searches for something to say. You're about to tell him not to worry about it when he speaks up, "You know," he starts, the uncertainty in his voice giving you pause, "it's no... Miami, but my aunt throws this Christmas party every year? For Christmas Eve. We invite a few friends over for dinner. She'd love it if you came."

"Oh, Peter, that's sweet but... I don't really want to intrude on a friend thing-"

"No, no, it's okay! Anyone can come. It'll just be my aunt, some of her co-workers from F.E.A.S.T., a few of my friends, my ex-girlfriend-"

"Your- what?"

"Oh. Well, I mean, we were friends before we dated. Well... technically? She sort of just... hung around me and Ned in high school and then we started dating for a while but then we broke up in university. But we stayed friends. Became better friends, actually. So, she's my ex but also a really good friend. I promise it's not weird or anything. She's super cool about it. And I am too! Her name's MJ. I think you'll like her."

You stare at Peter. You think you see a bead of sweat twinkle on his forehead underneath the Christmas lights above.

He insists that you're welcome to come, and staying home alone for Christmas would be pretty hypocritical after your argument with Spider-Man.

Spider-Man.

"...and Spider-Man will be there."

Spider-Man?

You abruptly lock eyes with Peter. "Spider-Man?"

Peter's smile is tight-lipped, "Yeah." His voice cracks. "I mean, he's just stopping by real quick, but I invited him. He might not come. But... he also might."

Was this the friend of his throwing a Christmas party? Why in the world would Peter (Parker) invite you to the same party Spider-Man would be at, unless he could stand in the same room as him at the exact same time? There'd be no other way to convince you otherwise, and you'd be forced to accept that they really were two completely different people.

Yeah, right.

You'd go to this party and suss it out for yourself.

And it wouldn't hurt, would it? Peter was nice, if not the most awkward person you've ever met. To offer you a place at his aunt's Christmas dinner not long after hurling an object at his head was a sign of true Christmas spirit. You could learn a thing or two from him, "Okay. You've convinced me. What's your number? You can text me the address."

Peter blanks for a moment, "Um... yeah, um..." You watch him flounder, growing increasingly suspicious, "Can I see your phone?"

You drop your phone in his hand. His fingers move quickly across the keyboard before returning it to you. Peter Parker is now in your contacts. You check the number against Spidey's but there isn't a match. "Thanks," you glance at his wobbly smile, "I sent you a text."

Peter gestures behind him, "Oh, cool, awesome. Will you excuse me for a sec? I gotta use the restroom." And he doesn't wait for you to affirm before he's rushing down the hall and out of sight.

A full minute passes before you receive a text back from Peter.

15 Amfan Ave Forest Hills, NY 11375 7pm :) Hope you can make it! He never shuts up about you *I *shut

Hm.

So... I hear you're throwing things at people now Who told you that? You lose one phone, then you try to bludgeon an innocent man with another. I should lock you up and throw away the key I wasn't trying to bludgeon him, because I knew he'd be perfectly *fine*. And he helped me prove a point Which was... That the chances of him being you are more likely than either of you would have me to believe Could it be that you just have a thing for attractive, masked men? That is That is irrelevant to the conversation HA you so do Literally nothing to do with anything I just said It's okay. The mask makes it really easy to project one's ideal man onto me. Or so I've learned through Twitter I'm not projecting *anything* onto you Do you picture Ryan Reynolds when you talk to me? It's okay if you do Peter, shut up Maybe someone more boyish like Timothy chalet Timothee Chalet Timothee Chalamett I'd say you just like hearing yourself talk but this is a textual conversation I like that we can talk like this :) I like it too :) What about Tom Holland? We've got the same jaw If you think me accusing you of being Parker is me projecting a handsome man onto you, I can only assume you think he's hot. Which means I can assume you have a thing for him. Because I can also make things up Like Batman and Clark Kent? Are you saying Parker is the Clark Kent in our fictional relationship? More like Superman and Jimmy Olsen And you're my Lois Lane? ... Goodnight, Peter

Aunt May's home is beautiful. There's a lovingly sculpted garden out front that has since given into the snow, but you can tell it's a sight in the spring. For now, the Christmas garland lining the doorframe—wrapped in a rope of rainbow lights—brightens up the porch. As does the collection of little striped sweater-wearing gnomes gathered around the front door.

There's a commotion of voices behind it as you approach. You shift your plate into one hand, pressing the doorbell with the other, and the voices get louder. You swallow down your nerves when the door is ripped open by a stranger.

The stranger in question is staring out into the dark at you like they weren't expecting you. Your eyes quickly dart to the plaque beside the door and see a bold "15" emblazoned there. Nope. This is the house.

Their eyes zero in on the plate in your hand. Smiling, they open the door wide and step back, "Sweet! Peter said you'd bring dessert."

You kick the snow off your boots before stepping inside. The stranger shuts the door behind you before any more of the cold could get in. "It's peppermint bark," you explain, returning a smile of your own, "but I hear May's making a cake."

"May and Peter. May's great with everything but the oven- don't tell her I said that. I'm Ned, by the way." Ned holds his hand out for a shake.

Ned is really talkative, you find out. He holds your peppermint bark as you undo your boots and coat at the door, rattling off about how Peter and he had been friends at Midtown. He tells you about his job as a cybersecurity specialist, a job he'd naturally floated toward after graduating from MIT, and how he'd stayed with the Parkers for a few months after moving back to New York. It's how he knows that the downstairs bathroom door won't close unless you lift up when you shut it. You only remember about half of what he says by the time you get to the living room.

There are considerably fewer people than you expected, one of which makes his way over the minute you catch his eye.

"Hey," Harry grins. Unlike the nice suit he'd worn to the gala, he's dressed down in jeans and an ugly sweater with "I've been naughty" printed in big letters across the front, looking a lot less tense than when you'd first seen him, "Fancy seeing you here."

"I could say the same." You can't help but ask, "Don't the Osborns host Christmas Eve at Oscorp tower every year?"

Harry's good mood fizzles out right before your eyes. You feel pretty awful about it. "Uh, yeah. Norman does. But it's more business than anything, so I dipped. I'd rather be here watching Pete fuck up a perfectly good cake."

"I heard that!" Peter's voice calls from a room away.

Harry's good mood returns, "Well, it's good to see you at the annual Parker holiday celebration. And I'll forgive you for poking into my family business if you hand over those treats."

Bashful, you let Ned pass the plate into your hands before passing it to Harry, "Sorry. Reporter brain."

Harry's nose scrunches up, "Don't apologize. Unless these taste like ass."

"I promise they taste better than ass."

"Good enough," he backs away, turning his head to shout down the hall, "Peter! Get in here already!"

When the redhead is immersed in a game of UNO, you turn to Ned, "And that doesn't... feel weird? Having Harry Osborn at family dinner?"

"There are weirder things about Peter. Speak of the devil."

The ugly sweater is the first thing you notice. A companion to Harry's, it is nearly the exact same design, except for the "I've been nice" where the "I've been naughty" had been. He's dusting his hands of something when he comes around the corner. His eyes soften when he sees you with Ned, "Hey, you came." He says in a much too gentle voice. Harry and his opponents nearly drown him out with their cheers and boos.

Unlike at the office party, you notice, Peter's hair isn't tamed by hat nor hair gel. Instead, it curls incessantly around his flushed cheeks. He looked like a damn Keebler elf. It was frustratingly adorable. "Of course. I heard there'd be cake."

"How is that cake, Peter?" Ned pulls on a piece of the ugly sweater as he walks by, and you realize that some of the red had been singed. You follow Peter's frantic gaze from the hole to you.

"This was unrelated to the cake."

"You burned something else?"

"No! One of the stockings fell into the fireplace and I-" Peter trails off as you begin to smile, "you don't get to laugh at me if you didn't bring sweets."

"I did! Harry stole them." You nod over to the coffee table where the group is devouring your peppermint bark with reckless abandon. At least you knew they didn't taste like ass. Peter rushes over to steal the plate before they could polish off the last handful, much to their protest.

"Dinner's almost ready, I swear. You've met Ned, uh, Harry..." Peter scans the group, using his free hand to point out people, "...that's Yolanda, Katie, Lexie, Eduardo: all May's friends. May's in the kitchen but I'd stay out of her way until the ham comes out unharmed."

You notice that out of everyone gathered in the house, he does not mention his ex-girlfriend. "And MJ?"

You wait for an answer. Instead, something heavy shakes the house from above. It doesn't sound like it came from outside, but rather somewhere in the house. Not quite above your head. Weirdly enough, only you seem to be concerned about it.

Peter just glances at the ceiling, "And MJ."

MJ is tossing an empty storage bin to the side when you crawl up through the floor behind Peter. She's crouched on the balls of her feet, shoulders slouched, the sharp bones of her back poking through her tight graphic tee. Her head snaps toward you both when she hears you grunt up the last rung of the ladder. Her eyes narrow on you, then Peter, "I can't find it."

Peter offers you a hand to hoist you further into the attic, "Did you check the-"

"Yes. And I checked the one next to it. And the one next to that."

You look at Peter for an explanation, but he doesn't provide you with one. He walks over to where MJ has now fallen back on her ass, rifling through one of the bins. His mouth twists to the side. "Maybe she meant the box next to her old CDs?"

"There's like 15 boxes in here, Peter."

Off to the side of the room, where MJ was currently facing the mysterious dilemma, were about nine—not 15—storage bins in disarray. Two were off to the side, emptied of their contents: there were piles of men's clothes, women's clothes, baby blankets, and more. The third box that MJ was poring over had Halloween decorations in it.

"Well, you're getting close." Peter encourages.

The way MJ grumbles resentfully has you squirming. As time ticked on, your presence unannounced, you were starting to feel like an intruder. You clear your throat and MJ looks over at you for the second time, "Maybe I could help?" You offer.

At this, MJ brightens. "Finally! Someone cares about my plight. I don't know you, do I?"

You crawl over to where MJ is sitting and Peter gestures to you, "MJ, I told you about the reporter from the Bugle, right?" You give your name for good measure, and MJ's eyebrows raise. She gives a quick, indecipherable look to Peter. He returns it. Then she examines you.

After a moment, she dusts her hand off on her khakis and holds it out for you to shake, "Michelle Jones. Call me MJ." You repeat her nickname warmly. "Peter never shuts up about you."

Peter chokes on his spit.

"He... he does?"

MJ continues shaking your hand for longer than necessary, smiling secretively now, "Oh, yeah. He's got your blog bookmarked too. Post notifs for your Twitter, the works." You cut your eyes to Peter, appalled that he'd ratted you out to someone else, but MJ is quick, "I figured it out on my own ages ago."

"Is it really that obvious it's me?"

"No." And she smiles wider.

Peter is about to cut in with something when a woman's voice rings out, shrill and clear despite two layers of flooring in between you. He's needed with the ham. He looks between you and MJ, reluctant, "Look, if you can't find it-"

"We will." MJ's reply is confident, leaving no room for failure. You feel a little pressure applied to "we".

Peter nods. He mouths an apology at you and skitters out of the attic.

Left alone with MJ, you notice that she is staring at you now. You feel like you've been left alone with an oracle, prepared for your innermost being to be laid bare before you: past, present, and future. She looks like the type to know what makes people tick.

"What are you looking for?" You try to break the silence, though your voice comes out meeker than you'd have liked.

She doesn't look away from you as her fingers grip the container in between her legs, "Uncle Ben's favorite Christmas sweater. All I know is it has a reindeer holding a beer on the front."

Reinbeer. You almost laugh at it. You imagine it would tickle an uncle pink too. "Then I'll get to looking."

You've only just crawled over to a bin of your own when MJ asks you outright, "You like Peter, right?"

Your hand stills as it pries the top off. You feel her eyes burning into your back. "He's... nice, yeah."

You can hear how unimpressed she is with that, "I don't know if it's obvious, but Peter isn't exactly popular." You think that's kind of a cruel thing to say about someone you consider a friend, but MJ keeps going, "All he had was Ned back at Midtown. And me, eventually. I've known him since high school and he's made maybe a handful of friends, maybe less. The last time he invited someone new to Christmas dinner was Harry."

And that had been at least a few years, judging by how long Harry had been away at Oxford.

But why was she telling you this?

"He likes you." You yelp when you realize MJ's voice has gotten close. You turn, and she's kneeling behind you with no interest in your fear. "But do you like him?"

In her hands is a faded, toy Iron Man mask. "I... I think he's nice. I mean kind," you correct yourself when MJ frowns, "but I... I don't really know him. I mean, I don't think I do. I've only actually spoken to him twice and one of those times, there was a gun involved. Everything I know about him is through his pictures and Spidey, and I trust Spidey. So, I trust Peter."

"And Spider-Man?"

"What?"

"Do you like Spider-Man?"

You swallow. Like didn't really sum up how you felt about him. He was a hero, an inspiration, a friend, and also... yeah, you felt something more there too.

You think about why she would ask. Why it would have anything to do with you liking Peter or not. You look at her and it feels like she hasn't really asked you that different of a question at all. Your answer is much more definitive this time, "I do. I like him more than I know what to do with."

MJ leans back on her haunches. She appraises you, "He's pretty great, isn't he?" Her tone is considerably softer.

"Yeah. He really is." You smile.

MJ hands the mask to you and you take it, admiring the chips in its paint and the lovingly worn edges. She scoots between you and the bin you'd been looking into and pops the lid off. Almost immediately, she swears in relief. Sitting folded on top is the most gaudy sweater you've ever seen. A deformed reindeer is embroidered on the front, and sure enough, holds a can of beer in its hoof. When MJ shakes it out, little specks of dust fly everywhere.

This, too, she hands to you. You look at her in bewilderment. "You'll wanna make a good first impression with May," she advises, "just be prepared for the water works."

And there are water works.

May throws her arms around your neck and just about sobs her thanks to you, squishing the sweater between your chests. You note that she smells like candy canes. When she draws back, her glasses are all askew, "And I'm so glad you could make it! Peter wouldn't shut up about you. Isn't that right, Petey?"

Peter's eye twitches. "I'm gonna set the table. Ned, you wanna set the table?" And he scoots past you and May without waiting for a response.

"Don't mind him, he gets testy when he's cooking. Did Petey give you the tour?" You shake your head and May kisses her teeth in Peter's direction, "Okay, this is the kitchen, around the corner here is the dining room. You've seen the living room and the attic. The bathroom is by the front door, and the bedrooms are upstairs. If someone's in the bathroom down here, do not use the bathroom by the stairs. That's Ned's favorite when he gets bubbly guts, and he will get bubbly guts."

Ned complains under his breath as he walks by.

"If you need somewhere to get away from the festivities for a bit, backyard's that way and my room's upstairs, first door to the left. All good?" She pets your shoulder. Then, she looks down at the sweater still in your hands and takes it from you, tenderly. "I'm gonna go change into this and then dinner is served. Help yourself to anything, okay?"

May leaves you in the kitchen with that. Around the corner, Peter and Ned are fussing over where to put the ham and sides. Around the other corner, Harry is drunkenly singing Christmas carols with Yolanda. MJ watches on from the corner of the room, recording on her phone. She catches your eye and mouths, "For blackmail."

You peek into the dining room and Peter is worrying over one of the chairs. You can hear Ned scold him, "Sit next to them. You don't wanna talk over the ham. It'll kill the mood."

"But how do I... subtly get them to sit in this chair and not next to MJ or something?"

"Tell MJ not to sit next to them."

"But what if-" You jolt a little when Peter suddenly spots you eavesdropping. He straightens up with a death grip on the chair he'd been messing with, "Hey! Hi. This is your chair by the way." And he tops it all off with a smile.

It's warm in May's home.

You don't even register the cold at first. You do register Harry's frenzy, the way he grabs far more napkins than he needs to, pressing them to your stomach where the majority of his spilled drink had gone. When you finally do comprehend what just happened, you place your hands over his, "How long have you been plotting your revenge?"

Harry is red-faced. He lets you hold the napkins there while May rushes to find a towel, "Sorry. I wasn't looking where I was- sorry."

You don't get to dwell on the déjà vu of it all. May is ushering you up the stairs with a beach towel pressed to your front, muttering about how she'll have to put Harry on ginger ale for the rest of the night. She guides you into what you're certain is Peter's old bedroom.

It's been cleaned out, and most of his personal belongings must be at his own place, but there are still old posters on the wall, and a calendar dated in April, two years ago. His bed is ruffled like he'd slept overnight. It's neat, and looks like it usually is neat, but there are traces of him everywhere, like picture frames with Peter and May and a man you don't recognize.

"Peter probably has something here you can wear. It's all stuff from college." She digs through the top drawer of his dresser, finally stopping on a sweatshirt with Empire State University in college block across the chest. "Here! You think this'll fit?"

She stretches it out and you nod, thankful, "Yeah, thank you so much, May."

She smiles, "Okay. Bathroom's across the hall if you need to wash off. I can run your shirt through a wash while you're here if you'd like. Just let me know, okay?"

May is, perhaps, the sweetest woman on earth. She leaves you with a thumbs up and shuts the door behind you, reminding you to lock it after she leaves.

Your shirt had absorbed most of the drink, and you're relatively unscathed besides some sticky residue. You wipe at your stomach with the towel she'd given you and slip Peter's sweater on. It feels... odd, wearing it. It smells like May's house with little traces of Peter.

Your eyes drift back to the picture frames.

One such frame sits on top of the dresser, a photo of Peter and the man who you assume is Uncle Ben. He holds Peter in a headlock but they're both smiling at the camera. You smile too, tracing a finger around the wooden edges.

Another picture is of Peter and MJ and Ned, standing outside of MIT with their fingers pointing at the school. Another is of Peter and MJ sharing cotton candy at Coney. Another is of Peter as a little boy, with two people flanking his side that you do not know. You realize you'd never asked about Peter's parents.

There are other photos of him around that age with May and Ben, and as you piece together what feels like an undoubtedly tragic story, you catch something outside the window.

A person. Hanging onto the side of the house.

Your heart hammers in your chest as a hand pushes the window up, and then, "Did I scare you?" Spider-Man perches on the sill with what you can imagine is a shit-eating grin.

You stomp over to the window and shove at his shoulder, but he doesn't budge in the slightest, "You almost gave me a heart attack! Were you watching me get dressed?"

The mask's eyes blow open, "What? No! I swear I just got here."

"Do you ever use the front door?"

"Not if I can help it," he crawls in, staying planted by the window, "don't tell me you're snooping through Parker's things."

"I was just... looking. At the pictures. And Harry Osborn spilled his drink all over me so I had to borrow Parker's shirt."

"Hm. ESU looks good on you."

You look up at Peter, who keeps his hands tucked behind his back, leaning against the wall by the window. "Aren't you gonna say hi to the party? Make Parker look cool?"

"Eventually. Maybe. Might just watch from afar."

"No, nuh-uh. You said you had holiday plans and that you were going to a party. That doesn't count if you're watching from afar."

Peter's head sways to the side, "I never said this was the party I was going to."

"Is there another?"

"Well... maybe. Maybe not."

"Peter-" You whine, but he cuts you off.

"I'm not a party guy! Sue me."

"Well, then Parker's got you beat two for two. Unless you're lying, since I haven't given up on my conspiracy theory."

Peter presses himself off the wall, sauntering toward you in a zig-zag. Your eyes follow him, back and forth, back and forth, until he's a step or two away. His hand reaches out to play with one of your sleeves, its seams resewn with mismatched thread, "Leaving a party as Peter Parker to come back as Spider-Man. Give Parker some credit. That's the kind of plan you come up with in high school."

You shrug, trying not to act like Peter playing with your sleeve wasn't giving you goosebumps. "You never know."

Peter nods, "Yeah, you're right. I mean, he was really excited to see you."

"Oh yeah?" You swallow.

"Yeah. Was kind of pathetic, actually."

Peter shoots a web at the ceiling and twists, catching the web between his feet so he could hang upside down. The suddenness makes you stumble back with a breathless laugh, "That's not a very nice thing to say about a friend."

"Weren't you the one who said he'd be shaking and crying if you yelled at him?"

You sigh, "I was... I was teasing you."

"Because I'm Peter Parker."

He says it matter of fact. You stare at him, "Yeah," you whisper, "that's right."

He pulls himself up the web until he's face to face with you, "Then that wouldn't be very nice to say to a friend, would it?"

"No, it wouldn't. If you were Peter Parker, I guess I'd have to apologize to you."

"Yeah? How?"

You breathe deep. Everyone is still laughing downstairs. You become hyper-aware of the fact that you hadn't locked the door. At any moment, someone could walk in and...

Peter waits, curious.

Your fingers trace the lines of his jaw, pressing into the fabric of his mask, feeling over the ridges where black lines broke red. You know what you want to do. And you also know that there is no going back if you do it.

Your fingers reach the place where the mask meets the rest of his suit. Hooking two fingers under the fabric, you pull.

Your fingernails trace over the curve of his Adam's apple as it bobs, over the jut of his chin. Peter's breath is heaving. One of his hands releases its grip on the web and you see it glide toward yours out of the corner of your eye. You just feel the skin of his bottom lip under your finger when you realize how this might look. What he might think you're trying to do.

Mask in hand, questions of his identity hanging in the air, your curiosity and his vulnerability. You release the mask, awash with worry. You want to get it out before there's any misunderstanding, but as your hand drifts back to yourself, his catches it. You would give anything to know what he's thinking right now.

Peter lets your fingers fall. Silently, he drags the mask over the tip of his nose and leaves it resting there. An invitation. "I trust you." He promises. And kisses you.

He has to stretch a little to reach you. You understand this and press closer, taking the back of his head in your hands and holding it steady for you, but you know you're trembling. You curse yourself for how much your body reacts to this, how uncool you must look, how you shake with all the excitement and terror of this. You kiss him and feel silly about how you claimed to know his lips so well before now. That was nothing.

This is everything. So many things. Each time you go back in for more, you lock away some new little detail about him.

Peter places a hand against your neck and tugs you even closer, but the momentum makes him swing a little bit so his nose bumps your chin. You're too stiff to laugh, but he does, "Sorry," his voice is raspy, "this looked cooler in my head."

You lean into him, dizzied, "Was this... did you plan for me to kiss you? When you got up there?"

"I've wanted to kiss you plenty of ways." Peter's admission is followed by a sigh. He presses a hand to your chest and nudges you back a step before he's dropping to his feet and advancing upon you once more, bumping you against the dresser as the picture frames rattle. Your fingers sneak under his mask at the back of his head so they can sink into his silky hair.

He probably kisses you a hundred more times after that. Every kiss you think might be the last, but then you feel a tug in your chest and go in for one more. An itch that no scratch can soothe.

Peter's mask starts to slip and you feel one of his hands leave your waist to fix it, but the warmth your fingers had snuggled into disappears and-

You keep your eyes screwed shut, "Peter." You gasp against his mouth. Your fingers twitch in his hair, finding no resistance.

"It's okay," he nudges your nose with his, still pressing kisses to the corner of your mouth, "it's okay."

"But-"

"Don't you wanna know if you were right?"

You squeak when his lips find the underside of your jaw, "I don't need- you don't need to-"

"You're always right," Peter interrupts you, kissing down your neck, "I was never fooling you. You're so smart, you know that?"

"Peter." You say his name with no real plans for it to do anything, letting your head fall back.

"Please." He says back. Urging.

You lift your head, heart hammering away, and meet the eyes of Peter Parker.