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book-place · 2 years ago

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The Art of Remembering

Warnings: nwh spoilers, mention of character death, slight cursing, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Stephen Strange x reader platonic, Peter Parker x reader platonic

*not my gif*

Summary: You were the only one that could cast the spell, but you refused to do so because you would lose your best friend

A/N: I started this a long time ago and only just added onto it- so it’s really bad writing for part of it

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

“No, no. Absolutely not.” You immediately shook your head, denying what Stephen had just asked you as you clenched your jaw and turned your head to the side.

He sighed, “Believe me, Y/n, I don’t want to make you do it anymore than you want to do it-“

“Then don’t.” You begged, looking at your mentor with pleading eyes.

“N/n,” Peter interrupted, “We need to do it.”

You quickly shook your head again, refusing to admit to the fact that he was right. That there was no other option, you were backed into a corner with your hands tied.

“Please.” The brunette boy pleaded softly, looking at you with wide, puppy dog eyes that you never could refuse.

You and Peter Parker had met as little kids when Aunt May had brought him to the same playground that your parents brought you to almost everyday after school when you were both six.

The two of you immediately clicked and spent every afternoon together until your guardians saw how well the two of you got along and agreed to let you guys hang out at other times as well.

And now, eleven years later, the two of you grew up as close as siblings and became one another’s best friend. Attached at the hip, inseparable from anything and everything.

Except for this.

Around the time that Peter became Spiderman, you were approached by someone named Stephen Strange, telling you that he’d seen the future and you would one day become the greatest sorcerer the world had ever known.

At first you were hesitant, but then he showed you what you could do, and he slowly earned your trust.

He took you under his wing and trained you in the ways of the mystic arts, teaching you everything he knew so that you could one day fulfill your destiny.

It had been a lot for fifteen year old you at the time, to have so much expected of you, and Peter supported and helped you through the whole thing like you did with him and his double life.

Now, with both of you being seventeen years old, he had just lost May and now multiverses were real and there were multiple Peter Parker’s in yours.

Needless to say, it had been a rough day.

You and all of the Peter’s had just cured all of the villains that had come through the portals into your world, but the other multiverses were opening up with nothing to stop them. Except for you.

Stephen and Peter had apparently come up with a solution, and hesitantly approached you about it.

Dr. Strange had to make the whole world forget who Peter Parker was. Including you.

Peter’s logic was that nobody else would get hurt because of who he was if they couldn’t remember, but you couldn’t wrap your head around the idea of not being able to know who your own best friend was anymore.

Tears began to fill your eyes as you ripped your gaze away from Peter and over to Strange, “Please, Stephen. Don’t do this.”

His answer shocked you, “I’m not.” But before you could sigh in relief, he continued, “You are.” His eyes bore into yours with more pity than you had ever seen from anybody.

Your breath hitched and your heart dropped to your stomach. You stared at him unbelievingly, “You really think that I would make myself forget my own best friend?” You let out a humorless laugh.

“You have to.” Stephen insisted, “This is magic far beyond my control, you’re the one who is destined to be the greatest sorcerer of all time- you’re the one who’s going to be sorcerer supreme.”

“Going to be.” You repeated, “I’m not right now.”

He ignored you and continued as if you hadn’t even spoken, “Besides, I need to hold them off.” He gestured to the sky where figures were beginning to form in the sky.

“But-“

Stephen cut you off as he looked to the sky in alarm, “There’s nothing more I can do here, Y/n.” Then he looked into your eyes for a moment, “You know what you must do… Make the right choice.”

He rushed off, leaving you and Peter alone.

You scoffed, “This is insane, Pete.”

He nodded slightly, “I know.” He whispered, he was looking down, refusing to meet your eyes.

“I’m not going to let myself forget you,” You insisted, almost desperately, crossing your arms over your body.

“I know,” He sounded so defeated as he looked up at you with tears pooling in his vision.

“Then why even ask this of me?” You whispered.

“Because it’s what has to be done.” He stated gently, as if he had already come to terms with the fact that you wouldn’t remember him, and was okay with it.

You flinched back, as if you had been struck and looked at him with betrayal filled eyes, “You know damn well that I can’t do this.” Your hands clenched to fists at your sides and you spoke through gritted teeth.

“N/n,” He slowly took a step towards you before putting his hands on your shoulders, “It’s okay.”

With that, you threw your arms around your best friend's neck and brought him into a tight hug. He hugged you back with the same urgency that you gave him, burying his face into your shoulder as he felt your body rake with sobs.

“Please don’t go,” You begged, voice coming out muffled through his fabric, “Please don’t leave me.”

“I will find you,” He promised, tightening his grip on you even more, “I’ll make you remember me.”

You pulled back with a small, threatening glare, “You better, or I swear to god, Parker, I will kill you myself.”

He let out a watery chuckle, squeezing your shoulder one last time, “I know you will.”

After one more longing look, you forced yourself to tear your eyes away from Peter Parker- the boy no one would remember- and began chanting the spell that would change the course of your life.

Peter watched you from afar with sad eyes, fighting with every bone in his body not to sprint over there and beg you to stop, because he knew this was the last time you would ever see him.

He ruined your life once, he wasn’t going to do it again. You deserved to focus on the mystic arts without having to worry about him or be pulled into any of his missions because he couldn’t handle it on his own.

He was going to let you go.

When the spell was complete, and you no longer stood before him, he finally let the tears flow from his eyes freely as he sunk to the ground with a gut wrenching sob.

We Are Groot 🤎- @lovanitu @jvdethirlwall @ineedmorefanfics2 @sambucky8 @spidyyparker @irethepotato @femalemarvelself @mukbee @its-hell @ip747 @i-writes-things @popfishjr @mitsuki-murakami @mythixmagic

#platonic #platonic imagine #x reader #marvel #mcu #teen reader #mcu x reader #peter parker x reader platonic #peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader platonic #spiderman x reader #nwh x reader #no way home x reader #spiderman no way home x reader #dr strange x reader #dr strange x reader platonic #marvel x reader #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange x reader platonic

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frost-queen · 11 months ago

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Starcrossed lovers (Reader x Peter Parker) NWH

Requested by: Anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn

Summary: You & Peter were in love till he lost you. Pulled through a portal he did not expected to meet you again on a different earth. When the battle against Green Goblin in upon them has Peter a chance to forgive himself but at what cost? [series list]

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you Y/n.” – Peter breathed out. Some electricity flickered dangerously above his head. You gasped loud looking up to him. Feet dangling in the air as his hand in yours was the only thing holding you in place. – “Peter…” – you said anxiously. The broken insides of the construction site clear. In the midst of the building you were hanging. Your life literally in Peter’s hand.

He himself hung stuck on a support bar made of metal with only his web. You gasped again hearing the construction site tremble. Feeling as if the place was coming down any second. You looked down at the gaping hole ready to swallow you whole. – “Don’t… don’t look down Y/n.” – Peter said with a clenched expression.

He felt his hand sweat underneath his suit, hoping it wouldn’t lose his grip on you. The construction site shook again, trembling and breathing as it disturbed the peace. Peter and you bounced a bit trying to stay steady. – “Peter!” – you called out wanting him to look at you. Peter was panting, holding onto you with every might. He looked down at you seeing the fear in your eyes. Yet there was also something else hiding in your eyes. Acceptance? Peter felt his hand slip in yours, making him groan loud. It made your feet dangle more knowing he couldn’t hold you any longer

You knew as good as anyone that Peter couldn’t save the both of you. It was him or you. It was an easy choice to make. The world needed spiderman, but the world didn’t need Y/n Y/l/n. It was an easy choice. You or him. You slowly closed your eyes, squeezing them gently shut as a single tear rolled down your cheek. Peter groaned again as he felt his grip falter on you. – “I’ll… I’ll figure something out Y/n.” – Peter said looking around to see how he was going to get out of here.

“I have to!” – Peter shouted at himself as you slowly opened your eyes once more. – “Peter I love you.” – you said making him look down at you. His eyes widened finally seeing the meaning in your eyes. You opened your hand, letting it lean back so his grip faltered.

Your hand slipped out of his as you descended into the abyss. – “No!” – Peter shouted releasing his web. You were falling. Peter diving after you, reaching his hand out to you. A web shot out aiming at you in the hopes of catching you. Your eyes were glossy from the held in tears. The wind catching you like hands trying to ease your fall. Peter’s web reached and attached itself to your stomach. He called it out trying to lift you up but the ground was reaching faster. Faster then he could’ve pulled you up. Your back smacked against the hard floor, bouncing off. It was fast. Quicker than falling asleep. Red crimes blood staining the hard floor. Peter landed beside you, picking you up carefully. For his pain could never be healed.

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“Just think of Peter!” – you called out slightly annoyed. – “Okay, okay.” – Ned replied jumpy as you were making him nervous. – “Just hold on.” – he added moving away from you. MJ sighed loud with a shake of her head. – “I need to concentrate for this.” – he told you. – “Then concentrate.” – you answered bitsy. MJ got up grabbing you by the shoulders. – “Give him some space.” – she said pulling you backwards away from Ned. You surrendered holding your hands up. – “I’ll won’t say a thing.” – you told her as MJ sat you down. – “Here have a cookie.” – she slid the tiny plate with cookies closer to you.

Cookies Ned’s grandma had made. You didn’t want to accept one as MJ took one and forced it into your hand. With one stern glance of her, she forced you to remain silent and eat it. Ned wiggled his shoulders to prepare himself like a boxer would before entering the ring. He moved his fingers in front of him, closing his eyes. – “Think of Peter Parker. Think of Peter Parker.” – he mumbled to himself. Slowly little orange flickers appeared in the midst of his grandma’s living room. MJ’s eyes widened as the orange sparks increased. Tumbling in a spiralling way as they grew wider.

Creating an opening. Your eyes widened as well making you drop your cookie out of shock. The portal opened more as you could look into an alleyway. A figure unclear. – “Peter! Hey Peter!” – Ned called out. The figure turned around pointing confused at himself. – “Peter come’ on!” – Ned urged not knowing how long he could open this portal. The figure approached jumping through the portal. – “It worked.” – MJ said looking at spiderman. The spiderman looked from Ned to MJ, then his eyes fell on you. It made him take off his mask, hoping his eyes weren’t deceiving him.

Ned and MJ gasped loud. – “Who are you?” – Ned asked loud. It drew spiderman’s attention away from you. – “I’m Peter.” – he said friendly. – “No, we are looking for Peter… Peter Parker.” – MJ stated looking suspiciously at him. – “My name is Peter Parker.” – his gaze going back to you. MJ furrowed her brows looking back at you confused. – “No, our Peter is spiderman.” – Ned addressed. – “I am spiderman.” – Peter replied looking briefly at Ned. MJ grabbed a bagel throwing at Peter.

Peter furrowed his brows, moving his hands away, gesturing why. – “I wanted to test your spider tingle.” – she told him. – “I have the spider tingle just not for bread.” – he told her. You snorted loud finding it very funny. Hearing you laugh made Peter’s face light up. – “We summoned the wrong Peter.” – Ned said out loud making you get up. You brushed past MJ and Ned coming over to Peter.

You started circling around Peter taking a close look at him. When you came to the front and your eyes met, you smiled sheepishly. – “Hi.” – you said softly. – “Hi…” – Peter replied with a saddened smile. You lifted his arm up, going underneath it as you examined his suit. Went around his back to the side, taking his other arm. You faced his palm up checking his spider webs.

You pressed on it accidently gluing your fingers to his device. You chuckled sheepishly. – “Sorry.” – you spoke. Peter smiled till his smile faltered having been brought back to a memory. He remembered when you had done the exact same thing once. He pulled the web of your fingers, freeing you. – “He seems real enough to me.” – you told MJ and Ned. Peter who had put his mask between his teeth, raised his arms in a way of telling MJ and Ned he was telling the truth. He pulled his mask out of his mouth with a smile. MJ still had her suspicion on him. – “Don’t mind MJ, she is a bit untrusting towards people.” – you told Peter.

“That’s okay.” – Peter answered almost saying your name. It almost blurted out so naturally he had missed saying it. Ned took a deep breath. – “Alright attempt number two.” – he prepared himself again for another go. Peter stepped aside joining your side. He watched Ned swirl his hand in a circle to open another portal. – “I’m Y/n.” – you told him making him look back at you. – “I know…” – he whispered saddened. You quirked up your eyebrow. Peter kept staring at you, unable to grasp that you were standing here beside him.

If he could, he would’ve grabbed you and kissed you like his life depended on it. It hurt, hurt being so vividly reminded of the loss of you in his world. It felt like a blessing that he got to speak to you again, yet it felt bittersweet knowing you were from somewhere else. A different earth. – “So uhm…” – Peter began half watching Ned’s attempts to open another portal. – “Peter… your Peter are you… his…” – Peter felt ridiculous and silly for even asking it.

He just wanted to know if his alternative Peter was yours. You picked up on it, laughing loud. – “Oh no, I’m just a friend. MJ is Peter’s girlfriend.” – you nudged with your head at MJ. – “Okay…” – he whispered out with a saddened smile. A new portal opened as a second person walked out, claiming to be Peter Parker as well. MJ sighed disappointed as Ned could only chuckle awkwardly.

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“Can the spiderman come out to play?” – all three Peter’s turned their head at the familiar voice. Green Goblin riding his hoverboard as he unleashed his green bombs. They were coming towards the building aiming for Dr. Strange. Doc Oc’s attached arms grabbed them out of the air, protecting Dr. Strange. They exploded in his metal grip. Stephen gasped when Green Goblin flew by, grabbing the cube from him.

Peter, the Peter from this earth turned his head in shock. Doc Oc flung a metallic arm at him, taking a hold of the hoverboard. Green Goblin was being held in place making him look surprised back. Strange flung a whip to Green Goblin taking back the cube. It hovered between his hands as he sighed relieved. Green Goblin turned snapping off one of Doc Oc’s arms. Doc Oc cursed in pain with frustration. The cube slowly turned in Stephan’s hand as all three Peter’s widened their eyes.

All seeing the green bomb ball inside the cube. – “Strange no!” – Peter one shouted holding his hand out. The bomb exploded releasing the magic inside it with blasts as two spheric rings blasted through the building. The entire building shook as it made you stumble out of balance, knocking into Ned. Ned, MJ and you were a few levels below, unaware of what was happening up there. The heavy shield destined for the statue of liberty released from it’s position.

With a heavy weight it scorched a way down the building. Breaking everything in it’s wake. The platform you were on shook immensely. Even shifted as you lost your balance. Making you stumble backwards as your arms flayed around for any balance. You tipped over the edge with a loud scream. Ned unable to grab you in time as he clutched onto a pipe, nearly falling down himself.

Your scream was hearable till the top. Making all three Peter’s look up with worry. Peter, Peter three was the first one to react. His scream deafened out as he leaped off the building. Not again. Why was he tormented like this again? Having to relive the moment he lost you. Your hands grabbing for any support. Peter dived down getting pulled back to the memory of where he had seen you fall before. The way you had shown acceptance in your eyes.

Yet your eyes were different. Full of fear. Only fear, no acceptance. He came at you with speed, determination on his mind. Not again. No more he would let you fall. He opened his arms, wrapping them tightly around you as the impact made you twirl in the air. Peter shot out a web as it stuck to a metal bar. His falling slowed down as he landed swiftly on his feet with you in his arms.

Shocked you were panting. Thinking you might have been done for it. Peter was panting too, looking quickly at you. – “Are… are you okay?” – he asked. You nodded vigorously, keeping your hands around his neck. – “Yeah… I’m okay.” – you breathed out shakily. Peter felt himself tear up. – “Are… are you okay?” – you asked seeing how emotional he had become. He nodded with a saddened face. – “I am now…” – he answered letting his forehead rest against yours. He set you down on the ground, holding you by your waist.

Knowing how shaky you still are from the fall. Peter sobbed loud, wrapping his arms tightly around you. – “I caught you. I caught you Y/n.” – he said making you hug him firmer. – “You did.” – you whispered to him, leaving a kiss against his cheek. Peter pulled himself a bit back from the hug, wiping some hair out of your face. He chuckled out a smile between his sobs seeing you alive in his arms.

You kissed Peter again on the cheek, feeling as if you had known him your entire life. Your kiss felt bittersweet as he knew he couldn’t keep you forever. You weren’t from his earth so he couldn’t bring you back. Peter tilted your head leaving a kiss on your forehead. – “Stay out of sight and save.” – he said giving you a slight nudge into a direction. – “I will.” – you told him, going into hiding.

Peter looked back at you, wishing he could keep you, but he couldn’t. His feelings for you had never died out. It hurt, yet it hurt good that he was able to love you a little longer. Hang onto you that little longer to be able to forgive himself. If he could he would take you with him. Knowing you were save on another earth pleased him. Yet he would do anything to try and find a way to be reunited with you again. Even if it meant dying in the process. He couldn’t live without you. You were his entire world.

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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

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eloisyw8 · 3 months ago

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💗 ?

#doc ock #doctor octopus #otto octavius #dr otto octavius #dr octopus #doctor octavius #spiderman nwh #no way home #alfred molina #molina verse #doc ock x reader #spiderman #marvel #my art

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whoreforpeterparker · 2 years ago

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on my knees

Summary : Reader gives Peter head for the first time.

"fuck Peter" you whimpered as Peter kissed and sucked on your neck leaving many hickeys to deal with tomorrow but in the moment you dont care.

This wasn't the first time that making out with Peter got so heated, this has become an everyday occurrence. Usually you two would try and study but you would always end up on his lap hungrily making out and grinding slowly on each other.

That was the current situation. your grinding against Peters very apparent boner quietly moaning your hands tugging at his shirt silently asking him to take it off. He got the hint and takes it off, the sight always makes you speechless even if you've seen him shirtless countless times the sight always turns you on.

"quit staring Y/N" He says with a slight smirk your cheeks turn a bright shade of pink, you hadn't noticed you were staring "sorry" Peter gently grabs your face with one hand, other on your waist and kisses you, the kiss was sweet unlike the earlier kiss.

His kisses move to your neck he finds your spot easily making you moan. You grab at his hair and pull him closer, Peter groans when you grind down on him the pressure on his rock hard dick being so pleasurable he felt like he was about to cum right then and there.

Peters kisses made you feel like you were on fire every ounce of your body was burning up, you took off your shirt revealing your red bra that pushes your tits up perfectly. Peters eyes widen and cheeks redden "Fuck Y/n you are so beautiful" you gave him a smile and kiss him again sweetly as a thank you before it swiftly turned heated again.

Your hands wander all over his bare chest and down his abdomen Peters breath hitches when your hands reach the waistband of his grey sweatpants. You pull away from the kiss " is this okay?" Peter nods, you give him a nervous smile. You and Peter have never gone this far before and you wanted to be good.

" y-you don't have to if you don't want to that's okay" Peter says while giving you a smile " I want to" You said as you drop down on your knees in front of his bed and start pulling his pants and boxers down at the same time, Peter helps you by lifting his hips.

You gasp when you see his dick he was big and thick leaking with pre cum, you are still nervous but exited at the same time, you have been wanting to do this for a while you even researched how to give good head in preparation. "Please do something baby" You look up to see Peter panting heavily, face redder than you have ever seen before but it only made you more exited and determined to make him feel good.

You leaned down and grabbed his dick you then bent down and licked his tip tasting his pre cum. Looking up to see his reaction his head was thrown back mouth agape, he already looked fucked even if you barely touched him . without looking down you started sucking on his tip before slowly going further down Peter moaned loudly and looked down making eye contact.

"shit y/n you're so good at that" His words spurred you on making you go faster you jerked off what you couldn't take in your mouth. You moan as you feel Peter thrust his hips further into your mouth making you slightly gag. Peter quickly takes himself out of you " I'm so sorry are you okay? did I hurt you?" He checks your face for any injuries you laugh" Peter its okay it was actually really hot you should do it again"

"o-okay" you give Peter a quick kiss before going back to his dick licking from the base to the tip then spitting on it. You jerk him off a little pulling moans and whimpers from Peter you bent down and started bobbing your head on his dick drool slid down on his dick creating a wet slobbering sound. His hands went to your hair making a ponytail "fuck babe shit feels so good" Peters loud moans and groans motivating you to keep going despite the ache in your jaw.

Peter thrusts gently into your mouth, making sure he didn't hurt you. You could tell he was close to cuming when his dick twitched you quickened your movements moaning when his dick hit the back of your throat the vibrations from your moan pushed him to close the edge " I-im going to cum baby" his thrusts quickened and his grip on your hair tightened you made eye contact as he came down your throat with a loud moan.

after swallowing his cum and recovering from his incredible high he looks at you with a shy smile "t-that was amazing baby thank you" he says as he reaches for tissues on his nightstand you shot him a confused look his eyes widen with realization "wait did you um s-swallow?" you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out showing that you did indeed swallow every drop he gave you.

"fuck" He pulls you up and kiss you hard groping your ass. the kiss got heated your tongues fighting for dominance. Peter moves you down on the bed " Your turn" he smirks

#peter parker x reader #Smut #requests open #oneshot #spiderman #peter parker #x reader #tom holland x reader #peter parker smut #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x you #no way home #spiderman no way home #aunt may #nwh

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octivia1o2 · 1 year ago

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im sorry but he’s so baby and i can’t stop thinking about 🖤him🖤

gotta love that funky little belly he has

#the spot #atsv #spider man #sm nwh #across the spider verse spoilers #atsv spot #the spot smut #the spot fanfic #the spot fanart #the spot x reader #the spot spiderverse #atsv fic #atsv fanart #fanart #the spot fic

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nyeddleblog · 3 months ago

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Unrequited. [Part 1]

Pairing: Andrew! Peter Parker x Fem!Reader. Warnings: Felicia Hardy, a little suggestive, interrupted. Summary: You're Peter Parker's roommate and you're so done with the amount of women that come into your apartment.

Chapter 1: Thin Walls.

"Please, please, please" he begged, hips jerking upwards as she let her hips grind against his. His eyes were hazy, lingering on the way her arms stretched, wrapping around his shoulders, "I promise to make you feel good, baby. Please, I need to feel you."

She left a kiss on his jaw, then another on his cheek, and when she reached the edge of his lips, he let out a whine that would have made him embarrassed in any other situation. Right then, however, it just made her let out a breathy laugh against his mouth and he could feel his pants growing tighter.

She was everything.

"You sure you want this, Peter?"

He nodded mindlessly, he didn't really hear what she said, he would just agree to anything that woman asked if it meant being hers, and when she dropped to her knees, another whine left him.

She was being so sweet, softly pushing him against the bed, playing with his zipper, palming him through his jeans. Peter threw his head back, a lazy grin forming on his lips as she settled her eyes on his. He reached for a strand of her hair, and played with it.

She left a chaste kiss on his hipbone, another on his lower stomach, and when he felt the sloppy kiss against the fabric of his boxers, he groaned.

Then he heard the loud thud on the wall, and finally recognized the presence of his roommate on the next room. He incorporated quickly, but Felicia was pulling on his boxers and he couldn't help the "Fuck" he whimpered at her touch.

"Peter, for fucks sake!" you yelled, and he bit his lips cringing, "Stop being a slut!"

Felicia looked up at him and she didn't seem annoyed, no, she looked absolutely angry. He licked his lips, ready to explain but she was already standing up and picking up the thin blouse he had taken the sweet time of unbuttoning.

"Sweetheart...!"

"Don't fucking 'sweetheart' me, Parker" she hissed, carefully clasping her stilettos, "You told me you lived alone!"

"I told you I was alone." he corrected her gently, zipping up his jeans as he tried to reach for her, "She wasn't supposed to be here, Felicia. Please"

"I'm sorry, darling, but I don't like having an audience."

She gracefully walked out of his room and guided herself around his apartment. Peter heard the dim laughter inside your room as he followed her, a laughter he could only pick up because of his heightened senses, and he was going to confront you about this.

"Honey, we can just be quieter..."

"I'm not a teenager to be playing around like this" Felicia took a hold of the doorknob and turned to look at him, "Maybe make up a code next time? Put a sock on your door or something, I don't give a shit."

And she left.

Peter turned to look at his roommate's door. He inhaled sharply.

He called for you.

He saw the doorknob move, then saw you peek your head out behind the wood and give him a small smile, "Yeah?"

"Was that necessary?"

"I mean," you took a good look at Peter, eyes scanning him up and down shamelessly. You would never admit it, but he looked delicious all hot and bothered, "It was to me."

"You say that like it happened often" he tried to argue, but you raised an eyebrow and leaned against the door frame, making him remember the other times. He sighed, "Okay, I can understand how that can be annoying..."

"You know, Peter..." Your voice was laced with a mix of amusement and irritation "There's a whole world out there full of people who don't involve me in their intimacy, yet I came to live with the only one who does, and not in the good way."

Peter ran a hand through his hair, feeling the blood run to his cheeks. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? It won't happen again, I don't even think she'd..."

You cut him off waving your hand, "You're something else, Parker" you said, shaking your head as your gaze softened, "Seriously though, knock it off. I'm not your personal filming crew, and, like she said, I'm definitely not your audience."

Peter opened his mouth to respond but you turned around, "Don't bother. I'm going to bed. And next time, maybe try a motel room? Or, better yet, invest in some self-control." NEXT PART.

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peterparkouryo · 1 month ago

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no way remedy | ꕥ

back to school. | ꕥ

warnings: angst per usual, and a glimpse of fluff :3

word count: 3.3k

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ taglist

IT HAD BEEN TWO WEEKS SINCE PETER'S IDENTITY WAS REVEALED. Two weeks left of your summer break, tomorrow being the first day of school that you dreaded with each hour that passed by.

As expected, your dad limited your hangouts with Peter, not wanting you to face more trouble than you already ensued before, which, yeah was ultimately understandable, but you both knew he couldn't just deprive you from seeing your boyfriend. He opted to one hour phone calls instead.

You and Peter had broken that rule, going hours on end during the night while your dad slept soundlessly, oblivious to your loophole.

Currently, you were doing just that, chatting on FaceTime, paying no mind to the fact that it was a school night.

You had missed Peter these past few weeks, and you were finally glad you'd be able to see him tomorrow, but there was no doubt chaos would be awaiting you and your friends.

"Did you get a chance to send in your applications?" You questioned after your conversation about things you expected for Christmas died out.

"I literally just finished my MIT one." Peter tells you, the phone screen bright in your face, a stark contrast from the darkness that surrounded you.

You knew the chances were slim with getting into certain colleges, so you all had came up with a plan to apply to the same backup colleges if all goes wrong, or if miraculously none of you were accepted.

"You?" He retorted back.

"I did, few weeks ago." You admit, shuffling into a more comfortable position.

Peter hums out a response. "Could you imagine if we both got in? MJ and Ned too?" The boy wondered, to which you nod in agreement to. That was the plan after all.

"Yeah, but we'd probably have to get scholarships so that we could actually go." You say, a bit doubtful at your chances.

It's not that you didn't have hope, but with everything that's been going on, you knew your chances of getting in decreased, scholarship or not.

"Come on, you got the scores and the grades." Peter reassured you, dismissing your rational words.

You squint at him in scepticism.

"Are you trying to say I'm being too realistic?" You pondered, raising your eyebrow expectingly.

You probably were, but your question wasn't serious, just only teasing.

"No-, well, yeah, maybe." Peter stuttered out his reply carefully.

Peter shrugs as you let out a low chuckle, watching his face relax into relief, realizing the question wasn't to be taken serious.

"That's okay, though." Peter said after two seconds of silence, giving you a small smile.

"It's one of the many things I love about you." Peter confessed, and he could've swore your eyes got brighter at his sentence.

You smile, feeling the heat warm up your face at his disclosure. The boy seemed to always know what to say at any given time, one of the many things you loved about him.

"Really?" You amused, Peter giving you a small nod.

"What are the other things?" You wondered, rubbing your cold feet together in attempt to keep them warm.

Peter pretends to think about it for a second, and you roll your eyes at his stunt.

"Well.." He starts, with a smile plastered on his face.

"I love how brave you are." The boy tells you, looking back at the phone.

You hum, waiting for him to continue.

"You're also super nice to people." Peter jokes, to which you laugh at.

"Yup, I just love being nice." You agreed sarcastically.

"Your humour, which can be...really dark at times." Peter continued, you give him a grateful smile.

"It makes it more funny." You say nonchalantly, giving Peter a cheeky smile, watching the boy shake his head.

"And..." He trailed off.

"You make me really happy." Peter finalized, and your heart just about flutters in your chest.

You never really made it a goal to prioritized Peter's happiness, but you would never neglect it on purpose either. There was just this unspoken agreement that you had to always no matter what, make the most of what you had. There were going to be times and obstacles in your life that you would face, and you hoped in some way Peter would be there with you every step of the way.

You could say just about the same as well. You never had anyone in your life make you feel the way you felt when around Peter. His presence was enough to make you melt into a puddle, and you were glad you had found him.

You were truly thankful for him. If he asked for the world, you would give it to him in a heartbeat.

You open your mouth to express your reciprocation, but something, or someone snoring obnoxiously loud in the background breaks your train of thought.

"What's that noise?" You quizzed with furrowed eyebrows.

"Oh, it's Happy, look." Peter replies with a whisper, panning his phone over to a sleeping Happy in his recliner.

"Gave his room to May so he's sleeping down here." The boy adds informally, and you slowly nod before deciding to change the topic.

Since the unexpected situation at Times Square that happened, you had this nagging thought in the back of your head that always seemed to make a guest appearance when you were alone with your daydreaming.

You wanted to ask Peter for awhile now, but you never had the time, or chance to.

You figured now's a good time more than any.

"I have a..weird question." You start unsurely, your tone lowering with each word.

You didn't know how to ask it, really. It only just being a thought in your head, words jumbled together, not really making sense, but you thought it never the less.

"Does any part of you feel relieved about all of this?" You finally let out, watching your boyfriend's face twist in confusion at the lack of context you provided.

"What do you mean?" He questioned.

"Like, with the whole identity thing being revealed." You say more clearly, and his face pondered at your sentence.

A few seconds of silence creeps through the phone, the question still lingering in the air, awaiting to be answered.

"Ever since I got bit by that spider.." Peter starts, breaking the silence as he slowly answered the question.

"I only had one week where my life felt normal." He tells you and you couldn't help but feel bad.

"Or kind of normal, I guess." Peter adds and you nod in silence as he continues.

"And, that is when you found out." He says, gazing back at the phone.

You pout slightly, your sympathetic eyes staring behind your phone as you listened.

"Because then everyone that was in my life that I wanted to know, knew." Peter admits, and your eyes shift back toward the phone.

You understood where Peter was coming from, glad your question was answered. You really couldn't imagine the things your boyfriend had to go through after being bitten by a radioactive spider.

"And it was perfect."

You sigh in defeat, your face falls into a sad expression, at a lost for words or even a proper reply.

"But now everybody knows and I am the most famous person in the entire world." Peter states with a heavy sigh as he stared at the condo ceiling.

"And I'm still broke." The boy joked, making you let out a giggle.

You were silent for another minute, your heart beating at a steady rhythm against your chest, content with Peter's answer.

You couldn't bare another day without physically seeing him, the daily routined phone calls not enough.

"I really miss you." You tell him with a soft tone, your eyes looking at the carpet of your bedroom before looking back at the phone, seeing Peter's face gleam.

"Yeah?" He asked with a smile.

"Mhm." You hummed. "I also can't wait to see you at school tomorrow." You confessed, your eyes half lidded, tiredness hitting you like an ocean wave.

"I miss you, and I too can't wait to see you at school tomorrow." Peter retorts, his smile only growing wider with each word he says.

"Wrap it up." A voice demands from Peter's end of the phone, making the boy jump in alert, as you just furrow your eyebrows.

"You both like each other. We get it. Hang up." Happy countered sternly and you fight back a laugh at his annoyance.

"There's no new ground being broken. I need my eight hours." The older man says, his voice muffled by the ventilator.

"Have you been listening this whole time?" Peter questioned.

"Hi Happy." You greet awkwardly.

"Uh, not by choice." The man admits, to which you do laugh at.

"Y/N says hi." Peter tells the grumpy man.

"Hello." He waves, slowly drifting off back into his slumber.

You two suppress your giggles after Happy falls asleep again. It only got harder since the mere thought of poor Happy listening to you two talk all sappy to each other, tortured him, and you could take a few guesses as to why.

You yawn after you both stop your laughter, the action not going unnoticed by Peter.

"You should probably get your eight hours in." The boy teased, you snort at his joke, nodding in agreement.

"You as well." You tell him, stretching the lower half of your body, once again shifting into a cosier position.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow, 'kay?" Peter agreed, and you could see the sleepiness in his eyes.

It was a wonder how it only took Happy breaking your conversation midway to make the two of you realize just how tired you were.

"Goodnight Peter." You reply, a lazy smile on your face.

"Goodnight." The boy says softly, the phone call coming to an end.

You stretch once more, putting your phone on the nightstand near your bed, turning over to get more comfier under your blanket, closing your eyes and picturing a world where you and your friends didn't have to go through the torment you were going through now.

Hopefully your school day wouldn't be as bad as you thought.

School was just as bad as you thought. As soon as you exit the car, there was a mob of either citizens or students swarming the front of the school.

You and MJ had to ride to school with Peter and Ned, via Happy's request because May feared the worst if you four weren't together when attending school. You were glad that she suggested it, because compared to how you imagined, it was chaos.

Chaos is probably a bit of a stretch, but when you were walking up to the school, there was people with homemade posters, claiming just how wrongly villainous Peter was, blaming the boy for Mysterio's death.

As mentioned before you weren't a people person, and you didn't do well in a large crowd, though this wasn't exactly your problem, you made it your problem because you knew Peter. You don't regret it one bit though. The one thing you wished for really was for the people to understand Peter's side of the story.

No one deserves to be wrongly accused for something they didn't do, but you knew how the world worked. People believed what they wanted to believe.

Your anxiety worsen as you walked side by side next to said person, Peter, your sister, MJ, and best friend Ned, closely behind the two of you.

You and Peter instinctively reached for each-other's hand, being one another's unsaid emotional support, guiding through the roaring crowds of people dreadfully.

People were either shouting your name, Peter's name, even Ned and MJ's. Some were saying things you couldn't quite hear, insults here and there, one civilian even asking you if you were going to have Peter's, "spider babies". You shivered at the thought.

Thankfully, a lady who guided you through the crowd, had made sure no one got too close to you or your friends.

"You know he's a murderer right?

"Peter. Do a TikTok with me."

"Mysterio forever!"

"Do a flip!"

Was all you heard as you walked by, your gaze worriedly going to Peter's who face was pinched with cringe, his strong urge to ignore the words being thrown at him.

When the four of you had finally arrive at the threshold of the front doors of Midtown, there was a few security guards waiting at the door, one with a body scanner.

The one with the body scanner, scans Peter, who after he was done attempted to wait for you and your friends, but obviously they wouldn't let him, and your face is evident in defeat.

"I'll see you inside, okay?" Peter reassures as a security guard body scans you, you give him a weak nod.

Soon after, MJ, and Ned get scanned as well, you waited inside the building patiently.

One of the front doors open, revealing MJ, who quickly goes over to hug you, her curly hair in a down do hairstyle, different from her common one you were so used to.

You quickly hug her back, embracing each-other for awhile before pulling back.

"You okay?" You ask her, she nods in response.

"Yeah, where's Peter?" She questioned.

"Class probably." You answer unsurely.

To be fair, you really had no idea where your boyfriend had went. You figured he'd be in class anyway, but not without going through expecting students that most likely lingered in the hallway.

It was your senior year you realize, this was supposed to be it. Instead you were doing everything but beaming with happiness as your final year finally rolled around.

"'S fine, we have him next period." She says, linking her arm with yours as the two of you wait for Ned.

You had no first period class with the two of them, but you decided on earlier in the car you all would walk each-other to your classes, but since the plan backfired, you just had to make do with what you got.

Ned arrives shortly, asking the both of you if you were okay, and you two tell him you were before dreadfully making your way to class.

When lunch finally came, Peter finds his way to you somehow through the expecting large crowds of people who lingered to gaze at him, some amazed that an actual superhero was attending their very school.

The boy had pleaded for the two of you to go someplace quiet, anywhere away from the pestering students inhabiting the school, it didn't take much convincing on your end.

Peter had taken you to the roof of the school, a place you knew was probably the most quietest the two of you had been to in what felt like forever.

"Can we just stay up here all day?" Peter asked from above you, you reading through a newspaper you had found on your way to school.

You two had been up here for five minutes, you resting your head in his lap as he relaxed above you, staring off thinking about only god knows what.

"It is so crazy down there." He tells you, and you hum in agreement, something in the newspaper article catching your eye, almost making you laugh out loud.

"Wait, 's one's good." You say with a small chuckle.

"Some suggest that Parker's power include male spider's ability to hypnotize females," You share with a more bigger chuckle, and from the corner of your eye you see Peter's face fall in disbelief. "Which he used to seduce Jones-Watson into his cult of personality." You finish in amusement, hearing Peter let out a groan.

"Oh, Come on. Stop, stop." He pleaded, and you mischievously smirk.

"Yes my spider king." You mock teasingly.

Peter shoots you a glare from above as you break out into a giggle, the boy soon chuckling as well.

Once the both of you stop your chortling, you sit up from where you rested in his lap, placing the newspaper next to your backpack, gazing at Peter who was already looking at you.

You notice the boy's stare shift from your eyes, trailing to your lips, and you can't help but do the same. Peter smoothly places one of his hands on your cheek, the warmth of it burning against your fair skin.

You already knew where this was going, you had been touched deprived from him for way too long, and you were finally happy the two of you got the alone time you deserved.

You close your eyes just as Peter does the same, both of you leaning in, your lips just inches away, you could feel his breath so close to yours, going in for what you needed most.

"Finally some privacy." Ned bursts through the exit door of the roof, MJ trailing behind him with her bag half on her shoulder.

You and Peter slowly pull away, the boy's hand falling from your face and you give him a sheepish look with a shrug, your eyes watching the two come sit across from you and Peter.

"It is so crazy down there." Ned says, shrugging off his backpack and you just nod in agreement as MJ looked in-between you and Peter.

"What were you two losers doing?" MJ questioned knowingly, narrowing her eyes.

"Nothing."

"Talking."

You give Peter a look, which only made MJ grow more in suspicion at what you were really up to.

Truth was, you were doing nothing, the only thing about to be done didn't happen, and you were talking at first, so not much of that was really a lie.

But thankfully your sister decides not to harass the two of you anymore, pulling out a book from her backpack, blocking the three of you out for the mean time.

"So, I was thinking.." Ned trails off, grabbing his backpack and unzipping the bag to dig through it.

"When we get into MIT, we should live together." The boy suggested as he pulled out his school laptop.

You smile at his words, nodding in agreement as did Peter.

"Yeah, for sure." The spider boy verbally agrees.

"Yeah, love that." MJ deadpans.

You ignore her, focusing your attention on the laptop that Ned had pulled out, showing the front page of MIT.

MJ looks up in curiosity, glancing at the laptop that was held on display for the three of you.

"This is gonna be us." Ned smiles.

"Sure." You say, whole heartedly agreeing with him.

"Minus the Frisbee and the smiling." MJ added, her face cringing at the mere image.

"MIT's obviously the dream, but if we match our backup schools, then either way we'll be in Boston." Peter countered with hope laced in his tone.

"New school, new town. I can Spider-Man there." The boy suggested, getting approving nods from MJ and Ned, turning his gaze to you and you shrug.

"They have crime in Boston, right?" Peter asked you absentmindly, you once again shrug, giving a verbal answer as well.

"Totally."

"Wicked crime" Ned adds in.

"It'll be like a fresh start." Peter states, still expectingly gazing upon you.

You reluctantly nod, sparing a glance at MJ, who's face fell from her grimace to a much more dreaded look.

Peter noticed the lack of the both of your hopeful faces, furrowing his eyebrows in wonder.

"What's up?" Peter questioned, darting his eyes in-between the two of you.

You told MJ about your doubts of the two of you getting to the same school, well not just the two of you, all of you, really. You never had a single doubt before, but now that the knowledge of Peter's secret identity was revealed, you feared that with you knowing him your chances would decrease.

You just wanted all of you to be in the same place at all times, safe and happy. It was easier said than done unfortunately.

"Nothing, it's just..." You trail off, not knowing how to word what you were feeling.

"If you expect disappointment, then you can never really get disappointed." You hear your sister say, the three of you turning your heads to look at the girl.

You nod at her words. It was something she would rarely say, this being the first time she shared her words to anyone in a long time.

"No, hey, come on." Peter says, taking a hold of your hand, before looking back at MJ.

"Be a fresh start, and we'll all be together." Peter reassured, his hold of your hand only tightening, showing you a reassuring smile.

There was something that lingered inside you at his words, you couldn't pinpoint it but you figured you best drop the uneasy feeling still stirring in your gut, giving your boyfriend a nod in agreement.

"Yeah, fresh start." You mutter, giving him a weak smile.

"Fresh start." Ned also says, placing his hand on top of yours and Peter's and when MJ didn't, the boy's other hand dragged her free one on top of his.

You had only hoped Peter's words were right. You couldn't bare another disappointment ensuing.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker angst #peter parker fluff #michelle jones #spiderman no way home #spider man no way home #spider man no way home x reader #spider man #spider man nwh #ned leeds #no way home

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qsphyxias · 10 months ago

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idk if your requests are open but i was wondering if you could write a (tom)peter parker x male reader fluff because i really enjoyed the other ones that you have written 🫶🫶🫶🫶 much love

if you read yaoi and/or bl regularly as a woman, get the fuck out of here!

synopsis ; peter parker x male! reader

warnings ; male (he/him) reader, cussing, (tom holland) peter parker, established relationship

note ; love me some classic peter parker fanfiction - and thank u for requesting!! not sure how long this has been sitting here for whoops

words ; 0.8k +

"Hey, boyfriend." You snickered, hanging your head over him. Multiple strands of hair followed your sudden movement — blocking your view of him, or rather, his view of you.

He looked up at your face and pushed the strands of your hair to the side of your face without thinking much of it. The smile he beamed right back at you made you feel as if he was trying to move away curtains that revealed a most breathtaking view — you, his wonderful boyfriend.

As cheesy as it sounded, the way you looked at him and leaned down made his mind play one of the most righteous theme songs of the Star Wars trilogy. The feeling of your face against his hand, the desire to just hold you and never let go, the heat of his blood rushing everywhere, it was scary. Peter could hardly think straight when you let a small smile shine through your expression, where was he supposed to look? What was he supposed to touch?

As if on instinct, Peter's hands that were once placed on either side of him on the bed, took action and slid up your waist to gain a little bit more control once he saw you close the distance a bit more by resting on your elbows instead of your palms when hovering over Peter.

His grip caught you by surprise, who knew he could be so initiating?

"Is... Is that okay?" He murmured, watching your expression, terrified he was maybe too assertive this time.

He already went through this struggle with where to touch, back when he thought he only liked girls — but now, it's different. Despite all those experiences, It's like he had to relearn everything about the boyfriend world. It's not the same, because this time, he's the one with the boyfriend, not so much the one having to worry about his role as the only boyfriend in the relationship.

And Peter really doesn't want to fuck it up with his boyfriend.

To his shock and awe, you snorted, dismissing all his worries with one single breath.

"Peter, your heart's made of pure gold, isn't it?" You sighed as you fully relaxed into your new boyfriend's arms, letting your arms slide underneath the small of his back and lock softly.

With your eyes closed, and ear against his heart, Peter could comfortably wear his expression of pure exasperation as he settled into your embrace — not having to worry about you reading his face.

"Uh," Peter leaned his head back against the pillows to think, causing his throat to relax under the pressure of gravity — producing a scratchy tone in his larynx, once could only describe it as infatuation-inducing. "Well, maybe. I mean, I let you be my boyfriend, didn't I? I must be a saint!" He joked, a complete 180 to his previous attitude as he attempted to lighten the heavy romantic tension. A smile adorned his face with ease as he looked down at you for a (hopefully) good reaction.

You opened your eyes to playfully glare at him, "I take back what I said; your heart's made of pure lego — it's completely evident."

Peter feigned offence, "Hey, what makes you say that?" getting a bit more comfortable, he rolled over to face you instead of having to crane his neck down, keeping his hands flush against your back throughout.

"The way your joints click and clack, the way you get all stiff and plastic-like when you get nervous, the way you're practically indestructible — not to mention how much space you allow Lego Star Wars to take up in your heart; there's lots of things, Peter. " You laughed near the end of your mini-speech, fiddling with the the collar of Peter's shirt right in front of your point of view.

"And hey, you're basically built like Lego Batman with those 12-pack abs. Not that I'm complaining..." Peter flushed at the blatant flirt directed at his body.

"I did not come here today to be berated, s/o." Peter chose to ignore the last thing you said, "and I do not get 'plastic-like' when I'm nervous." Peter frowned, to which you chuckled.

"You came here because you missed me, be honest." You corrected.

"Well... Yeah, but you don't have to say it out loud." He mumbled, his shy expression breaking into a grin when he saw you smile first.

"Why not? it's true, isn't it?" You closed the distance between the two of you even more, chest-to-chest, stomach-to-stomach, lips-to....

Your eyes fluttered shut as you leaned up to kiss him, shuddering when you felt his hand rub your back with a gentle force, pulling you impossibly closer to him to fully close the distance.

As the two of you kissed, Peter held you close and vowed to himself in his head, to always protect you. Because to protect you, means he'd be protecting precious moments like these.

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theliability · 1 year ago

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Trying to study but I keep thinking about post-nwh Peter being all alone rn

#peterparker #marvel mcu #no way home #post nwh #peter parker x reader #spiderman #mcu peter parker #tom holland #studying #dark academia #idk how to tag this #maladaptive daydreaming

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angelofthenight · 9 months ago

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You: I love being called a lady by the villains like when people are in ur way and they say

Sinister Five: “let the lady pass”

You: it’s like heck yeah I’m a lady!

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www-zoloft-com · 1 year ago

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the sanctum's mad brick rn, wong.

#benedict cumberbatch #doctor strange #stephen strange x reader #doctor strange x reader #stephen strange #spiderman no way home #spiderman nwh #benedict cumberbatch x reader

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waspenned · 3 months ago

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scenes from an italian restaurant • part ten • peter parker

in which you and peter clear the air • 5k

warnings: language as per usual, angsty

now playing: bleecker street by simon & garfunkel

part one / the ao3 version

a/n: long time no see!!!!!! full update in the notes of the ao3 post but what a crazy year

You’ve been stood in front of Peter’s door for five minutes now.

That’s on top of the five minutes you spent working up the courage to go inside the building, and then the other ten minutes you spent pacing the block - just to try and shake some of your nerves out onto the pavement. It’s just knocking, just seeing the same face you’ve been seeing nearly every day for months now, but it feels bigger.

You hadn’t been to a coworker’s place since the fire; not gone for coffee after a morning shift, or drinks after close, or a Red Bull run before the open. It made things easier to deal with. Sometimes it stung a little more than usual, especially when most of them were particularly inclined to come in all hungover and messy on a Saturday, with a whole new roster of inside jokes - but it felt safer, somehow. You’d been friendly with a few of them at some point, close almost, and even though they kept inviting you out with them, they all eventually stopped asking. Some understood, some didn’t - and once you'd overheard Sal hushedly call you ‘troubled’ to somebody through the gantry hatch, you were basically the point of no return.

But Peter, as always, is different.

You glance at your phone. Seven minutes. Some awful part of you twists at the idea that maybe he’s wondering where you are, if he’s waiting for you; or if he’s being normal about it, like a normal person. Peter’s more normal than you, he wouldn’t take seven- no, EIGHT minutes to knock on someone’s door, even if his hands were clammy and his heart was thumping so loudly in his ears he thought his eardrums might burst. You’ve still got your earphones on even though you paused whatever you were listening to long ago, the sound of your breath thrumming through your head. When you move to finally take them off, you fumble and swear as they clatter loudly to the floor.

Immediately, you cringe, wanting the floor to swallow you up as muffled movement stirs behind the door in front of you. You’ve probably got about ten seconds to pull yourself together and appear fine enough for him not to be immediately concerned - a difficult task, considering that you have dark circles the size of plates, and you’re pretty sure you’ve got some sort of stress-related rash breaking out on your hands, but the door is already opening, and life (as it turns out) isn’t merciful.

All of a sudden, Peter is there, and you’re on the floor, frantically chasing your earphones as they scatter across the lino. When you look up at him, you’re suddenly relieved to find that he’s mostly just confused. Lamely, you flap your mouth for a second, and then blurt out the first thing that pops into your head.

“I was just about to knock.”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

Peter’s apartment smells like Peter - which is obvious when you think about it, but it didn’t cross your mind until this moment how painful this might be. There’s his soap, his deodorant, the faint oil fryer smell of any Joe’s uniform, which is currently half hanging out of a laundry basket near the door. It was like you were seeing him properly for the first time; this new, unknown Peter who exists beyond the confines of a kitchen. This isn’t the Peter you know or Spider-Man - this is Peter outside of Joe’s. Peter who does laundry. Peter who has a coffee mug on the drying rack that says ‘World’s Greatest Pop-Pop’, and some complicated calculations splayed out in sheets on the rickety little dining table.

“It’s a bit of a mess right now, I haven’t had time to clean up, because of the-“ He’s babbling and flitting about, picking up different bits of odd clutter only to put them down again. His hair is damp against the collar of his sweatshirt; shiny and dark and curling up in little spirals around his ears that you had the sudden urge to wrap around your fingers. You step inside, and Peter’s pottering about the kitchen, preparing mugs and rooting through his cupboards. When you make your way into the main space of the apartment, barely a separate room, Peter looks up at you through his hatch and brightly chimes, “Would you like anything to drink?”

You quirk your brow. Suddenly, whatever haze had fallen over his face dissipates, and he blinks, dazed.

“I’m still in Diner Mode.” Peter rubs his eyes, then rakes a hand through his hair, disturbing the wet clumps of curls. No wonder it's always so frizzy, with the amount of times you've seen him tug and ruffle at it. The movement exposes the tips of his ears, shiny from the moisture, and their usual shade of flustered pink. He’s back into the cupboard in an instant, searching through boxes and jars before he finds what he’s looking for. “Okay, so I have coffee and…”

“I’m on the edge of my seat.”

“…Actually, that’s it.”

“Then I guess it’s my lucky day.”

You can’t help it, but your voice comes out dry and flat, and his eyebrows knit, something shifting in his expression. Your fingers go numb, and you remember what you came here to do - you just didn’t think you would get into it so quickly. Peter sets his shitty instant coffee on the side (and you would know it’s shitty, because you buy the same stuff) and just looks at you. You’re not sure what sort of look it is, something between his usual awkwardness, and some entirely new face you’ve never seen before. He’s planting his hands on the counter now, squaring his shoulders, and your breath hitches.

Maybe, you think, this is the face behind the mask.

“I don’t know what to say.” It sounds awful and croaky, and it’s nowhere near covering the sheer amount of thoughts currently rushing through your head, but it’s all that comes to mind.

What is there to say? Nothing much had really happened; coworkers hook up with each other all the time (granted, usually not on shift), but even then, you never even had sex. You can’t call him a ‘hook up’, he was somehow both more and less than that - just some guy you’ve kissed a couple times. Whatever the hell the two of you have been doing for months has never been labelled anything past ‘friends’, which you’re now quickly realising is nothing like what you actually are. You’ve been tormenting yourself, tormenting him, all because you couldn’t suck it up enough to admit to yourself that you care about him more than you want to, and because it’s easier to live with the possibility that something could, might happen.

And now a new, worse feeling is looming over you; the possibility that Peter might not feel the same way about you.

Deep breath. Push it down. Bury it.

“Then let me say it.” Peter is clearing his throat now, your heart rate spiking like a hummingbird, your teeth clenched shut. It takes one, two, five, seventy drips of the faucet before he speaks again - or maybe he doesn’t hesitate at all.

“I’ve been thinking about something you said a while ago, before…” He trails off. Before everything. You grimace a little, suddenly feeling nauseous when you remember how rude you were to him, all the times you’d snapped at him when he was just trying to help. He’s the kind of person who helps people, and you’re the kind of person who pushes them away, apparently. All of the hate and grudges you’d held against him, all of the resentment, instantly falls onto your shoulders. You punished him for the crime of being happy and content, when his other job is being beaten to a pulp and worked to the bone, and you were stupid enough to not realise it was only because you hated yourself.

“You said something about how shit happens, and Spider-Man won’t always be there. How I’m ‘just some guy’.”

“Peter, I-“ Your lungs are burning so hot you think you smell smoke again, and you try to hold your breath, even though you currently feel like you’re suffocating, “I didn’t… I don’t think that anymore. I’m-“

Deep breath. Push it down.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m fucked up.” You’re laughing, but it doesn’t reach your eyes, or Peter’s. 'Fucked up’ is an umbrella term, apparently, for having nightmares about a fire that happened over a year ago, shutting everyone out of your life, smelling smoke in every dark corner or pantry. ‘Fucked up’ covers being so desperately lonely that you have to compulsively hurt the first friend you make after isolating yourself for so long; stringing him along in some ‘will-they-won’t-they’ bullshit and letting him down every step of the way. He probably wants to cut you off. It’s probably better if he does.

“You’re not fucked up,” His face is soft, like ricotta against your tongue. Like the skin across his collarbones. “I just… About the fire-“

He’s not broken eye contact with you until now, but his gaze flicks to the dish rack, the walls - he fiddles with the faucet for a fleeting moment. You wait.

“I want to apologise for everything,” It’s slow to start, but once the dam is broken, it all comes out in a rush and drowns you. “I know we didn’t know each other then, but I want- I need you to know that I’m sorry. It’s my duty to protect people, and I didn’t protect you, and I’m sorry.”

“Peter-“

“Hold on. Last night, when you were talking about how it was your responsibility to-“ His voice wavers. You realise you’re still holding your breath. “How you had, like, a sense of duty towards Joe’s, and you were so brave, and all I could think about was how I let you down. Even before I knew you, it killed me just knowing that there was someone who needed me, and I didn’t come through for them. It- It messed me up.”

There’s a pang where your heart used to be, when you realise he’s not talking about you specifically, but just someone in general. Some poor citizen needing to be saved. There’s nothing else there, just hollowness and cold, stretching back and back into you like an abyss. This must be what heartbreak feels like, you realise; you’re not special to him, you’re just something else on his plate. Maybe, something in the back of your head leers, maybe you’re nothing to him after all.

Spider-Man, your coworker, is staring into you so intently that you can feel the weight of the city on his shoulders.

“I nearly quit.” His voice hangs like a loose thread - like the ones on the diner tablecloths that if you pull, make the whole thing unravel. You twist your finger around it and tug, even though you know you’ll come apart too.

“Joe’s?”

“Being Spider-Man.”

“Oh.”

Peter huffs a breath, twirls the faucet knob between his fingers with the same dexterity and fluidity he demonstrated between your legs last night, and your gut churns. The pipes groan to life, and he shuts it off again before any water has the chance to flow through. Then, he’s coming around the corner, out of the kitchen, and all of a sudden you’re in Peter’s living room, with Peter, and that's what he looks like at home. There’s no pretence, no uniform, no employee code of conduct between you.

“I want to be just some guy. More than anything.” He’s so close to you now that you can smell lime body wash and shampoo, see a drip forming at the tip of that one curl at his left temple that’s more like a ringlet than the rest of them. And you only know it's there because you haven’t stopped thinking about him, looking at him only when his back is turned and no one could catch you staring. You can barely hear him over the shame spinning in your ribs like a catherine wheel.

“But after the fire, I sort of took it as a sign that I was meant to be Spider-Man. You were there, you lived it. It’s my responsibility to stop that from happening.”

You can’t help it, but your eye twitches. It’s the same thing that’s been bothering you about Spider-Man since before; the promise of selflessness and responsibility and duty that Peter is now forever bound to. Before last night, you would have told yourself that you hated Spider-Man because you felt like he abandoned you, because he broke some kind of stupid, city-wide promise - but now that you know it’s Peter behind the mask, blaming him feels too harsh when the world gives him enough shit to begin with.

He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve the beatings, or the sleepless nights, or the working minimum wage just to go home to an apartment that will only get more expensive to rent. And all it does is make you angry. It’s unfair - everything’s unfair - and now it feels like your life, your near-death, was the event that made him keep giving himself and getting nothing in return. At the end of the day, you’re both just two twenty-somethings, trying to keep their heads above water.

It’s your fault that he’s still here, still hurting.

He’s still staring at you when you realise you’ve been silent for some time now, your mind blank and stuttering as Peter just looks on, almost concerned. The vice that’s been slowly tightening around your chest for months gives one final clench, and some long-buried string in your heart finally, finally snaps.

You’re so tired.

You knew it would happen eventually; that you’d run out of steam, or your knees would give out, and you wouldn’t be able to keep this up anymore. You’d always expected it to be while you were alone, or in Sal’s office, when you wouldn’t be able to keep up with all the silly little lies you’d been telling yourself - but not here, not in front of Peter, and not like this.

And you’re not sure you’ve ever said any of this out loud - but the same tug in the back of your head that wanted to protect him last night is now thrumming away like a rubber band pulled taut. That pull, that itch, that simmers in your lungs and makes you feel like you’re responsible for him, or that he’s responsible for you.

When you think about it, it’s guilt. Guilt that burns hot and acrid at the back of your tongue - guilt that puts you in debt to him, to everyone at Joe’s. You don’t just owe him an apology for lashing out, and running around the diner like a shithead; you owe him the truth.

Deep breath.

“Peter, I have to tell you something.”

Your voice sounds miles away - echoing in his box apartment, or maybe just in your head. You try not to notice the way his face twitches, or the way he stiffens slightly, or his eyes darting over you. His voice is tense, but not quite strained when he speaks.

“What is it?”

Something scratches at the back of your throat, squeezing, constricting, scratching. This is it, this has to be it.

Say it.

“The fire was my fault.”

You weren’t sure what was going to happen. Sure, you’d imagined this scenario multiple times, all of them ending in various, and increasingly wild forms of punishment - losing your job, being arrested, getting cut off from the people who had been your whole life for years - but you’d at least imagined some form of relief. Perhaps the relief was the driving force of this whole confession, laying yourself bare and raw and bleeding in front of Peter in the hopes that he’d do something about it, take it all away, and still like you enough to speak to you afterwards.

Only now, in practice, the relief never comes, and Peter just keeps staring at you. Instantly, you want to vomit.

"What?”

You can’t read his voice. You can’t read his face. To compensate for this, your brain cedes all control, and your mouth keeps moving.

“I was smoking out the back door and Sal called me in for some stupid reason - something about the pans or the sauce, or whatever - and I forgot to stub it out, and-“

That’s done something. Peter holds his hands up, eyes drawn wide, as if you were some sort of wild animal. Maybe you are. Maybe this is all some sort of twisted defence mechanism - spilling out the one thing you swore you would never tell anybody, in one last-ditch attempt at pushing him away.

“Hey, hey-“

“I didn’t get to see the full report, but I’m not stupid. I know it started near the back door, and that some- some spark, or something, caused it. If I'd just-“ Your voice sticks like glue in your dry throat, like you’re trying to swallow cotton. “I nearly killed people. So much of it was destroyed - stuff that had been there for decades, family pictures, wedding presents.”

You think he says your name. You don’t hear it.

“That burn on Sal’s arm is only there because of me. Because- Because he tried to get me out of there.”

It’s all too much now - even here, even in Peter’s apartment, you can smell the smoke, feel the heat. Through the hatch into the kitchen, you swear you can see a flame, licking up the walls, swimming in your vision like molten glass. It’s burning in your eyes, curling in your throat and nostrils, burning and burning and

“Please, look at me.”

When you finally make eye contact, a breath forces its way past your lips. His hands are steady and warm on your forearms, slipping down to clutch at your palms, as if weighing you down to reality. It’s as if everything else had slipped away, and he’s in the middle of it all, grounding you like a tether. You cling to him.

“I’m sorry.” It tumbles out like an impulse. Peter shakes his head, soft and smudged in the lamplight.

“Don’t be.” He says, firmly. Every wet curl shines and shimmers as he shakes his head, and the smell of soap pushes the soot that little bit further away. Maybe if you were to look out of the window, you’d see plumes of dark smoke rising from a building a few blocks away, but your gaze is stuck to Peter’s like a magnet. “You didn’t do anything wrong."

“I did,” The awful creature that’s been churning in your chest rears its ugly head again, “I caused so much hurt. And I’ve been hurting you, too - holding a grudge for something that was my own fault. You- You don’t deserve-”

“No.” Peter hasn’t let up, watching every twitch and flicker on your face. Is this how he speaks to the maniacs he fights in the street? Is this how he handles every catastrophic responsibility that falls into his lap? “You didn’t.”

“Peter, I did-“

“You didn't.” He says again, only this time, something sticks. The look on his face, the sadness in his eyes - it snaps your mouth shut. It’s the way he hovers around it, the unsureness in his face, that almost confuses you. “I… After the fire, I did some investigating.”

Your feet have gone numb. So have your hands, and arms, and legs, and just about everywhere else. When you don’t protest or interrupt, Peter continues tentatively.

“I got access to the NYPD files, I watched the clean-up like a hawk, I-“ He cuts himself off, clearing his throat. His fingertips worry over your knuckles, back and forth, like a pendulum. “I did some stuff I wasn’t necessarily allowed to, but I needed closure. Joe’s was- It was one of the last things I had left of Ben’s, and…”

“What do you mean?” Your voice comes from another room, another planet. How could he know something you don’t? How could he have answers that you don’t have? Sal never told you anything about the report, about the cause, about any kind of investigation. Something is clawing inside your stomach. How? How? “Peter, what are you saying?”

His voice is softer than anything you’ve ever heard when he finally answers.

“It was a fault with a fryer. Some electrical issue.” You can barely hear him, but he keeps talking anyway, even though it sounds like he’s on the other side of Manhattan. “Suppose it’s why Sal is so insistent on fryer training now, and- hey-?”

It takes a moment to register what you're doing, but you realise that you’re laughing. You can’t help it, but you’re laughing. Peter's utterly lost, his eyebrows tangled into that familiar furrow, the one you only see when you've completely perplexed him.

All this time, all this energy, spent tying yourself in knots and swallowing bile - and it was all the fault of a fucking fryer. Even now, the relief doesn't come, doesn't take all of the pains and aches of it away. Instead, it melts and morphs into something new - awful, burning, searing shame. And there's Peter in the middle of it all, just waiting for you, wanting the best for you. There's something hot on your cheeks, and it turns out that your laughter has quickly merged into crying.

You're actually crying. In front of him. You'd probably prefer being vaporised into a million pieces by whatever supervillain is calling themselves Spider-Man's arch nemesis these days.

"Oh my God," You blurt out, every cell trembling. It sounded like the beginning of a sentence, but any other words dissolve on your tongue.

Something warm wraps around you, and of course, it's him. He's holding you, and while you've had the odd bit of skin contact with him here and there - hands clapping on your shoulders, fingertips as he passes you ketchup bottles, lips pressed to yours in the snow - you'd never expected it to be like this. This close, you can hear his heart pounding away, the scent of his deodorant drowning out any scrap of smoke or burning oil, and your hands - against your will - fist into the back of his t-shirt.

You stay like that until it subsides, whatever it is, Peter murmuring things you can't quite hear with your ears muffled by his arms. Eventually, though, he pulls back, and fixes you with a look you can't really identify. It's the same one from last night, where he'd stood in the middle of your apartment in his spandex and his mask, wanting something from you that you aren't sure you can give him.

"I know that doesn't... fix it," He says, his voice rumbling through you like a wave - like you were one of his webs, and you can feel his feet tugging at the threads, knowing exactly where he was, and how far away, with one tiny movement. Even if you weren't a web, if you weren't coworkers, if you weren't people (though you suppose, he technically isn't, at least not all the way) you'd probably still be able to find him. "But it's the truth."

Even if you could dredge up something meaningful and coherent to say, you don't think you'd be able to actually say it - not with your tongue feeling so heavy and sluggish in your mouth. You settle on the first thing that comes to mind - the onlything your mouth can remember the shape of.

“I’m sorry.”

Peter shakes his head. “Nothing to be sorry about.”

Your diaphragm is still convulsing with the aftershocks of tears, and your breath trembles in your lungs. It's all coming out now, and you don't think you'd be able to stop it if you wanted to - not now that dam is broken, and Peter hasn't gone running for the hills. Apparently, that's given your brain the go-ahead to spew out pure, babbling nonsense.

“I was awful to you.”

"You really weren't."

"I, I just-" Your breathing hitches again, your face burning hot and bleary, “God, this is pathetic. I’m supposed to be apologising to you.”

You're bowing your head, avoiding eye contact, but you can hear the way his face looks, just from the gentleness in his voice, the concern that soaks the room like gasoline, threatening to be set alight.

“You really think about yourself like this?”

“I’m- I really am sorry Peter. I was so mean. You don’t deserve that.”

It’s instant. It's genuine, and it's absolute. “I forgive you.”

There goes that familiar feeling again, the one that claws at you from the inside, and hates how nice he is, how soft he is when the world is so hard to him. You swallow thickly, forcing it down, and choke out a dry laugh, your face scrubbed raw from the heels of your hands. You probably look awful, but he's still looking at you like he always does - whatever that is.

“You know you’re allowed to hate me. You don’t have to be nice to me just because I’m snotting all over your couch.”

“I could never hate you.”

There's a pang in your chest, and you're bent double, winded, by the gentleness of his tone. It hurts like a knife.

“Don’t-“ Another shaking breath as you shake your head, “You can’t say things like that.”

“Look, I don't-" He begins, before he reshapes the words in his mouth, shuffling them like a pack of cards. That's how he's better than you, you think, he thinks before he speaks - he approaches things with kindness and care, instead of months of anger and resentment towards nothing in particular. "With the fire, even if we didn’t know each other then, when I think about what could have happened, if, if you-“

There it is, the unspoken part. The part that keeps you up at night with nightmares and the smell of ash in your hair that you can’t scrub out. Peter looks almost pained, his face screwed up as he debates between speaking his mind and holding his tongue - he seems to go on a whole journey in his head that’s plain as day across his face. He’s tense and strung tight, hands wringing themselves over and over and over, like he’s cleaning the countertops at the diner, and all of a sudden he’s your coworker again, and you think you taste bile. Eventually, he makes a decision, and speaks.

“I guess I'm trying to say that I would miss you."

You’re almost winded by it. He says it so plainly, but it stabs you through the chest like a knife. Whatever emotion you’re experiencing right now is entirely new to you, and hurts like a bitch.

Peter would miss you. He saves your life, he kisses you at work - and he would miss you. He just says it like it’s nothing, like it doesn’t knock the air out of you.

It’s stupid - whether it was because he frustrated you, or confused you, or made you get that funny, swooping feeling in your stomach, you haven’t stopped thinking about him since you met him, and you’ve never even stepped foot in his house. And he looks like an angel by lamplight. And he would miss you.

You don't remember much of the rest of the evening, between mumbles and awkward sips of shitty coffee, and the city growing louder outside as the sun sinks below the horizon.

Perhaps this is why people go to church, or believe in something bigger than themselves - in pure, desperate hopes that despite whatever they've done, there will be someone at the end who will forgive you, and treat you kindly. But Peter isn't one for spite, and his kindness is all the more special to you because of that. His forgiveness, however, is something closer to sacred - washing you over in its totality, its absolution. For the first time in a while, Manhattan's clatter and din isn't overwhelming, or undercutting all the shit going on inside your head, it simply exists; cutting through the wind and rustling the trees, like the pigeons that scavenge the back end of Joe's for pizza crusts and stray fries.

It's been a while, but when you leave Peter's, and take in another deep breath on the steps of his building - it feels clean and new. It's only on the walk home, when his voice is pinging around inside your head, that you realise - and it hits you like a train.

He’s been more than a co-worker this whole time.

How could you not have realised that? You used to have your head screwed on, the sensible one, and here you were; only just realising how absolutely, positively stupid you’ve been. Of course everything has felt so frustrating and complicated - you’ve been so blind to your own feelings that the realisation of it practically knocks the air out of you.

You’re not even sure when the world started looking brighter and the city started smelling sweeter, and you’re not even sure when that feeling became so all-encompassing and vast and deep and hot and cold all at the same time - but you know it’s all Peter’s fault. You want to hate him for it, at first, but you’re not sure that hating Peter would even be possible. Not when there’s no one in the world that looks at you like he does, no one who goes out of their way to make you smile. He makes you feel special, special enough for you to wonder why no one else has been looking at you like this all along. It’s not that the job has gotten easier, or the fancy coffee you can afford with your pay rise; it’s just that you’ve been stupid enough to develop stupid fucking feelings for the stupid guy you work with.

Realising this feels like falling off of the Empire State Building. A familiar feeling, yes, when you tally up all of the emotional turmoil you’ve experienced - except now, there’s a small part of your brain that really, truly believes that Spider-Man would catch you.

Somehow, that was scarier.

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frost-queen · 9 months ago

Text

Starcrossed lovers // part 3 (Reader x Peter Parker) NWH

Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn, @minimin1993, @narniansmagic, @benonlinear, @canthebest1, @mellowdreamlandpost-blog, @thewhitewolfmarvel, @freek12569, @bookloverfilmoholic, @cigarettedaydreamsandcofee, @qalijahbydior, @gabriella-aesthetic, @fallenxjas

Summary: Peter would do anything to get back to you. Hoping with the help of the sorcerer of his earth, he will reach his goals. Will he venture through earths? If so what would he find beyond? [series list]

Aunt May knocked on Peter’s door. There wasn’t an immediate response so she was hesitant to go in anyways. – “Peter?” – she spoke knocking once more. Listening in on the door, she still had no response. Having a bit enough of it, she tried to open the door, only to be greeted by a blunt force. The door wasn’t budging as far as she wanted. Something in front of it preventing the door from opening more. – “Peter! What is blocking the door.” – she called out through the crack.

She kept pushed the door in an attempt to get the thing in front of the door to move. She gave it a hard push, hearing books drop to the ground. – “Peter!” – she repeated being able to open the door a bit more, seeing the ravage in his room. Books and papers scattered around like mad man’s house. Peter sat on his bed, lifting his head up with confused hum.

The moment he saw Aunt May trying to havoc her way through, he jumped up to assist her. He picked up some books, laying them aside on another piling stack on his desk to clear the way. – “What is the meaning of this?” – she asked too stunned to understand more.

Peter picked up some paper from the floor, holding it in his hand. He chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head. – “It’s a hobby.” – he answered sheepishly. Aunt May looked around, her expression with disgust. – “More like an obsession.” – she muttered trying to make her way further into his room. She picked up a book to read the title. – “Dimension travels?” – she questioned loudly, holding the book up to Peter.

“That’s… that’s…” – Peter answered making his way over to her. He snatched the book from her, keeping it close to his chest. Her eyes fell on some drawings as she showed them to him. – “Portals? Space travels? Peter what are you on about?” – she asked desperate. Peter took the drawings from her, looking saddened down at them.

“You… you wouldn’t understand.” – he simply said. – “Then let me try? Peter you’ve been neglecting your life with this obsession.” – she lectured hating to see him like this. – “It’s not an obsession!” – Peter shouted at her, losing a bit of his temper.

It startled Aunt May. He immediately regretted losing his temper like that against her. – “I’m… I’m sorry Aunt May.” – he apologized. Aunt May sympathized coming closer to him. – “I know you are struggling after Y/n’s death…” – she said touching his cheek. – “But you have to let her go.” – she begged wanting to hug him.

Peter backed away, not wanting her pity. – “I can’t.” – he told her. – “Peter look around! You’re going down a path I cannot follow. Y/n is gone and you have to accept that.” – she slightly raised her voice to get through to him. – “Don’t say that!” – he shouted back at her, not wanting to hear it.

You were not gone. You were just on another earth, far away from him. – “Peter!” – Aunt May yelled losing her composure. – “Y/n is dead and you are just going to have to accept that! Now get dressed and get to work!” – Aunt May finally had enough. She had snapped and acted it out on Peter.

Peter moved towards her, grabbing her by the arm to push her out of his room. He shut the door hard in her face. He had never done this and felt a bit ashamed of it. It was just, she wasn’t understanding it. How could he move on from you, knowing you were alive on another earth. Now that he had tasted sweetness, he craved more.

Peter looked down at the drawing of Strange’s portal he had drawn himself ever since he came back. Strange. His eyes widened realizing something. Peter got dressed and ran out of the house. – “Peter?” – Aunt May asked as he completely ignored her and rushed out. She sighed soft, hoping she wasn’t too harsh on him and that he soon forgave her. Peter hopped onto the first subway, taking him to his destination. If your earth had a Spiderman, his earth should have a Dr. Strange as well. Right?

Only one way to find out. Peter stared out of the window as the subway rushed past. He briefly looked down at his phone, lighting his screen up with a picture of you and him. – “I’m coming for you Y/n.” – he whispered blackening the screen again. Finding Strange wasn’t easy. He had little information of the man. He searched the streets thoroughly. Looking at each face to one that would match the description of the wizard he had known on your earth.

When that was a wild goose chase, he decided to focus on the building. Something Peter, your Peter had told him. He tried searching it up with little results. Groaning frustrated, he started to wonder if he even existed here. – “Where the hell is this man!” – Peter called out, making some by-passers turn their head and stare confused at him.

Feeling a bit lost in a foreign city, Peter was ready to give up. He seated himself down on some stone steps leading to a big door. Exhaling deep he let his head fall back against the door. Closing his eyes, he didn’t want to cry. The feeling of letting you slip through his fingers again was agony. It was pure hell. Being so close, yet not close enough. The door knob turned as the door opened. Peter’s eyes widened open as he felt the space behind him disappear.

He called it out when he fell backwards. With a loud oof he hit the hard floor. Opening his eyes a bit, he was greeted by a face looking down at him. Excitement reached him as he pointed heartly up to the man. – “You’re… you’re Strange!” – he exclaimed recognizing the same features of the man from your earth. – “That is doctor to you.” – Strange answered in a deep voice.

"Now get off my doorstep kid!” – Strange called out, ushering him away. – “No wait Sir!” – Peter replied waving his hands in front of him. Strange was about to close the door on him as Peter looked further back into the mansion. Stretching his arm out, he let out a web, letting himself be dragged inside right through Strange’s legs.

Strange stared stunned at the empty spot, turning his head rapidly back. – “How did you?” – he said both stunned and annoyed. Peter jumped to his feet. – “I need to talk to you.” – Peter started, panting a bit. – “Okay bye, bye kid.” – Strange said opening a portal that would flung itself at Peter. Peter gasped jumping up as he kept his hand on the ceiling. Strange’s portal passed right under him.

Strange looked surprised up to his ceiling, seeing the boy hang on it with just one hand. – “You are one annoying kid.” – Stephen sighed out. Peter dropped down on the ground. – “Listen sir… doctor.” – he corrected himself seeing the quirked eyebrow of Strange. – “I need your help. I need you to let me travel through one of your portals.” – Peter began.

Stephan laughed loud. – “I don’t have to do anything, and certainly not for breaking in kids like you.” – he pointed at Peter. Stephen turned away to a table to set himself a cup of coffee. – “Doctor please… I need to get to her earth.” – Peter explained with desperation.

Stephen spit out his coffee, turning a warningly eye at Peter. – “Did you just say her earth?” – he repeated to be sure, he had heard it correctly. – “Yes.” – Peter expressed approaching him. – “I need you to take me to her earth. You see I travelled through earths before… not so long ago some kid brought me to their earth.” – Peter explained further. Stephen hummed loud, scratching his jaw.

“I found out that someone from my earth is still alive there. She would’ve been here if it wasn’t for you!” – Peter accused. He swallowed nervously at the sudden stern glare from Strange. – “I mean your other you… not you doctor…” – Peter said to clarify. Stephen sat his cup down on the table.

“So you are telling me you travelled through earths and this other me… did this?” – Stephen asked so he was sure he understood. Peter nodded. Stephen hummed loud thoughtfully. – “So this other me travelled through parallel worlds?” – he asked.

“I don’t know… I guess… I did for sure.” – Peter replied. Stephen hummed again, deep in thoughts. – “Will… will you help me?” – Peter asked. Stephen grabbed Peter firm by the shoulder giving it a hard squeeze. – “First I need you to tell me everything!” – he led Peter further into the mansion. Peter swallowed nervously, suddenly not so sure of this man’s intentions, but he was his only hope to getting back to you. Peter explained his experience fully to him.

He told him about the portal. The other Spiderman, the villains, you. He told him everything. He explained his cause for him to understand better. – “So… so can you help me?” – Peter questioned nervously. Stephen stared at him. – “No…” – Strange answered getting up and turning his back to Peter. – “But you said!” – Peter called out, getting up as well.

“You said you’d help me!” – Peter tried to get Strange to stop walking away from him. – “Stop running!” – Peter shouted shooting a web at him. Strange’s hand got attached to the doorframe, stopping him from going any further. – “I need her! You… you have no idea what it’s like to lose someone!” – Peter called out angry that he was going to do nothing.

“I do!” – Strange replied harsh, looking over his shoulder to him. – “But… but earth travel…” – he wanted to turn more to Peter, but was prevented cause of the web. He cursed at the web, trying to pull it off. – “Get this thing off me!” – he yelled making Peter rush at him to help him free. – “Earth travel is a dangerous thing kid. It’s not because she died here, you can simply replace her with another copy.” – he told him.

“She’s not a copy!” – Peter made clear with a glare. Stephen moved his hands up as a way it wasn’t meant for him to get defensive. – “She won’t belong here. What do you think the people would say that knew her? Her family? Their daughter risen from the dead?” – Stephen explained trying to reason with him. – “I’ll just move to another city with her.” – he answered. – “It’s not that simple kid.” – Strange sighed out. – “Please… just let me try… I just need you to open a portal to her earth, allow me to get her and bring her here.”

“And how do you think you’ll get back? I have no glass orb that can see when you are ready to leave kid.” – Stephen said giving another stomp in Peter’s dreams. – “I…I don’t know…” – Peter sighed out letting himself fall in a seat. Stephen took a deep breath, approaching him. – “Look I get it kid, you would do anything to get her back, but it isn’t that easy. It could create some serious issues.” – Stephen went on to explain.

“You can’t save everybody, kid.” – Stephen placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder. – “I have… I have to try… I won’t forgive myself if I haven’t tried it at least.” – with desperation and sorrow, looked he up to Strange. Begging him to give him a try. To let him try it. – “Wouldn’t you try it if it was about the one you loved? Wouldn’t you give everything just to be with her again?”

“I would.” – Strange answered thinking back of Christine. The girl he let slip through his fingers because of his own mistakes. His own bitterness and rudeness had pushed her away. He took her for granted and now all was lost. Married off to someone else, that never could be him. Peter felt hopeful from Strange’s reaction. Stephen clapped loud in his hands. – “Alright kid! Let’s break through the walls of space.” – he announced.

Peter jumped back up following Strange with a new hope. It took them several days to get even close to their mission. Figuring out a good plan to get Peter in and out along with you. To find a way to travel through earths. Finally the day had come for their experiment. Peter stood ready, anxious to enter your world once more. – “Here.” – Strange said holding out a watch.

Peter accepted it questionable. – “It will allow you to open your own portal once you have her.” – he told him. – “Where did you get this?” – Peter asked. – “An ant gave it to me.” – Stephen answered with a chuckle, leaving Peter confused. Peter put on the watch over his spiderman suit.

“What earth was she on again?” – Stephen asked. – “Earth-199999.” – Peter replied, having remembered the numbers so thoughtfully. Stephen looked at the drawing Peter had made of the very place he entered your earth first. – “Let’s hope this works kid… if not… it was nice knowing you.” – he commented casually making Peter gulp. –“Thank… thank you Doctor.” – Peter said holding his hand out.

“Please…” – Stephen answered grabbing his hand to shake. – “Call me Stephen.” – Peter smiled feeling as if he had made an alley, perhaps even a friend. All those days spend with him using his wits on science and Strange’s wits on sorcery brought them closer. – “Ready?” – Stephen asked. Peter put his mask on. – “Ready.” – he breathed out.

Stephen moved his hands across, circling a portal open. Tiny sparks frizzled in the centre. It made Peter nervous and anticipating the moment he’d see you again. The sparks grew bigger as Peter took a deep breath. Slowly he could see the other side as he slowly started to recognize it. He smiled underneath his mask. This was it.

The portal grew wider as it was wide enough for him to step through. With one last deep breath, he stepped forwards, traveling through earths. On the other side sat Ned at the table, eating cereal. His jaw dropped as his spoon clattered against the bowl from having fallen out of his hands. Peter took off his mask upon seeing Ned. He looked around to see if it was the room he remembered.

It was just as he remembered. – “Ned!” – Peter called out excited. Ned’s eyes widened in fear. – “You… you know my name…” – he said stuttering. – “Yes, Ned It’s me Peter Parker… I was here not so long ago… well I’m not sure just how long with all that space jumping.” – Peter replied, muttering the last bit to himself. Ned pointed at Peter and let out a loud scream of help. It startled and confused Peter.

“No, no, Ned. It’s me.” – Peter answered as Ned’s chair fell as he backed away. Ned screamed again in fear. – “Ned!” – Peter called out moving closer to him. Ned took off as Peter shot a web out to him. Ned got stuck against the wall. – “Sorry.” – Peter apologized with his hands up. – “You were panicking Ned. I can’t have you panic.” – Peter went on, nearing Ned. – “I don’t have any money.” – Ned squeaked out, struggling against the web. Peter frowned. – “I don’t want your money.”

Peter sighed feeling as he wasn’t going anywhere with him. – “Look…” – Peter said pinching his nose bridge. – “Just tell me where I can find Y/n.” – Peter asked. – “Y/n? What do you want with Y/n?” – Ned questioned suddenly less fearful. – “Are you going to use her for your evil plan?” – Ned called out. – “Evil plan? What no Ned!” – Peter answered confused. – “I am just looking for her.” – Ned turned his head. – “I won’t tell you anything villain!” – Ned shouted, confusing Peter more.

He started to realize something might be wrong, but he had no time for it. – “Just tell me where she is!” – he called out desperately grabbing a hold of Ned. Ned sobbed out the address. Peter thanked Ned, releasing him once again before going after you. He shot out a web, flying above the city between the buildings to reach his destination sooner. Excitement took over as he felt himself smile. Finally he was going to be reunited with you again. His pride and glory.

Peter dropped down on the ground, staring at you through the window. There you were. Just within reach. Sitting down in a small coffee shop surrounded by books. Taking a deep breath, he let himself in. Not caring one bit if people stared at his costume without the mask. He neared your table. You sensed someone approaching, slowly looking up. – “Hi.” – he spoke almost fragile. – “Hi.” – you responded. The person smiled saddened.

You kept smiling at him, till it felt a bit awkward. – “I’m sorry, am I taking in your spot?” – you asked. Peter’s smile dropped, shaking his head confused. – “What.. no…” – he sputtered out. He had expected you to jump in his arms. To be rejoiced at his return, yet you remained seated. Staring a bit strange at him. – “Y/n… it’s me.. Peter… Peter Parker.” – he said feeling silly to remind you of it. You tilted your head a bit with furrowed brows.

You then laughed loud. – “Funny joke. You look nothing like that nerd Peter Parker. Also what’s with the costume? It’s far from Halloween.” – you told him. Peter blinked confused back at you. – “Don’t… don’t you remember?” – he asked softly. – “Remember what?” – you questioned. – “Me?” – Peter pointed at himself with desperation. You smiled soft. – “I think I would remember meeting someone like you, but I don’t… sorry…” – you replied.

Peter turned around with a disappointed exhale. Why didn’t you remember him? Unless… - “Strange’s spell.” – Peter blurted out.

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