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serensho · 6 years ago

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L O V E

A/N: I swear to goodness I will not take this fanfic down lol. I heard an asmrtist sing this, and all I could think about was like Peter Parker in love with his best friend. No spoilers, and this could be read for any Peter, or person if you like! This also female pronouns, but if you’d like it to be gender neutral, just let me know! Enjoy!

L is for the way you look at me

Peter Parker and Y/N Y/L/N, were the best of friends. Some might even dare to say that they looked at each other in a way that seemed as though they could see stars, galaxies, and the most divine universes in one another’s eyes. If only one of them would look up, and realize that.

“Peter is everything alright?” Y/N asked.

Peter and Y/N had been studying, but Peter had taken a break and was just staring at Y/N.

“O-Oh, yeah, yeah, everything’s fine! Don’t worry about it,” Peter stuttered. Peter rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“Alright so the next question is about.....”

Peter could hardly understand what you were saying, as he stared into your pupils feeling like he was drowning in the Y/E/C irises. If Peter could get lost in your eyes, then you could absolutely perish in the intensity of his stare. The two of you were so oblivious.

O is for the only one I see

Y/N was a very attractive girl. With Y/H/L, Y/H/C tresses, piercing Y/E/C, and a cute face to match, it was no surprise when she caught boys attention. However, it was never the boy she was hoping for.

“Hey Y/N, you look really nice today,” Flash Thompson said in a flirty tone.

“Oh-um, thanks Flash. I really should be heading off to class, so-” Y/N was cut off by Flash’s next remark.

“You know, we should really hangout sometime. I’m single, you’re single.”

“I really don’t think so. Bye, Flash,” Y/N said, heading off to her next class.

Peter has overheard your conversation and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. What was this weird, tight feeling in his chest? He knew you would never go out with Flash. But why did he still feel jealous? Seeing Flash talk to you, made him want to punch that guy square in the teeth as Spider-Man.

V is very, very extraordinary

Y/N had always known that Peter had been destined for greater things in life than what he had. And Peter knew that one day, all of your dreams would come true, whether that was with him, or not. But you still had no idea that Peter was Spider-Man. Only Ned knew and MJ knew. But that would all change shortly.

“Where’s Peter? He said he would go over a couple of questions with me on this assignment,” Y/N said in disappointment. The truth was, you totally knew what you were doing, but you always liked when Peter would grab your pencil from your hand and show you how to do the difficult equation, as your head rested gently on his shoulder.

“He had to leave for his Stark internship,” Ned stated.

“It’s like he’s gone so often now. I wish we could just hang out like the good old days,” Y/N sighed.

“It’s alright Y/N. He should be back any minute now,” MJ said in an attempt to reassure you. MJ was always right. Right?

It had been hours later, and you still hadn’t seen him. You texted him a while ago and had received no answer, and it was now late into the night. Suddenly, a beaten up Spider-Man crawled through your open window.

“H-Hello, Miss.”

“Ummm, Hi, Spider-Man.”

“I-I was wondering if you could just help me out here? Do you have any bandages?” Spider-Man asked. He had tried to speak in a lower voice to mask his real one, but it was failing horribly.

“S-sure!” I’ll be right back!” And Y/N ran off into the kitchen silently to grab a first aid kit.

Spider-Man had rid himself of his suit, except for his mask, leaving him in only his boxers. It left you more flustered than you’d like to admit, but you tried to ignore the butterflies flapping relentlessly in your stomach. As you tended to his wounds, Spider-Man let out a quiet hiss as you disinfected one of the wounds on his chest.

“Sorry, I know that must sting a little,” Y/N apologized.

“It’s fine, Y/N.”

You jumped back in surprise. How did Spider-Man know your name? And why did that voice sound oddly familiar? Carefully, you lifted Spider-Man’s mask to reveal, Peter?

“Oh my god Pete! I thought you were hurt, or worse!” You hissed at him. Why hadn’t he told you he was the one and only Spider-Man?!

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I was at Ned’s place and he told me how worried you were! And, and, so, I thought I would come over to check on you, but I had to stop a mugging first! And I know how you know how to like, fix up people so I swung by here,” Peter rambled.

You caught Peter in a tight hug knocking the breath out of him.

“It’s alright. Just don’t ever do that again! But Peter, I always knew you would be something special.”

Peter felt a warmth begin to flush his face, turning his ears red. He was thankful that it was so dark out, and you couldn’t see it.

E is even more than anyone that you adore can

Peter and Y/N had recently been crossing a line between friendship, and something more, more and more often. As Peter would always come to you to get patched up after a fight, he would often sleep in your bed, and leave right before school to say bye to Aunt May, and then walk with you.

It was in the way that you had begun to make Peter’s lunches too, as he would always forget, and he didn’t want to have to bother May about lunch money.

It was all of these intimate things, and things that your friends would say to you, that led up to you confronting Peter about it.

“Hey, Pete!” You greeted as cheerfully as possible. You were very nervous for what you were about to confess.

“Hi, Y/N,” Peter said, as he shut his locker.

“Listen, I have something to get off of my chest, Peter. I really, really like you. Like, in a way that I shouldn’t like you. Like I want to always be around you, I always want to see you smile, I always want to hear your laugh, kind of like. And- And, if you don’t feel the same way that’s fine! I mean, god why did I even decide to do this now!” You explained as you saw Peter’s face turn into one of shock.

“I’m so sorry, Petey, I should-I should go to class-!”

Suddenly Peter gently grabbed the small of your back pushing you close to him. He turned you against the lockers, and pulled you into a passionate kiss.

Mouths molding against one another, hands running up and down the other’s bodies, all the love you had for each other being expressed in one single action, and wow, when was Peter such a good kisser?

“I-I like you too, Y/N. I think, I think....” Peter trailed off in hesitation.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you more, Peter.”

And with those simple words uttered, the bell for class rang. Bodies moved past the couple, but it felt as time had stopped, if only for a moment, for the two of you.

Love is all that I can give to you

Love is more than just a game for two

#this was so cute #i loved this #i love the song #peter parker #pater parker angst #peter parker fluff #peter parker x oc #peter parker smut #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x oc

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defaulttwig · 3 years ago

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I Miss You

Peter Parker x fem!reader (18+)

Warnings: angst, minor violence, crying, smut

A/N: Reposting this from my AO3

Summary: A mission to befriend and infiltrate Spider-Man's life had succeeded, a little too well. Dealing with the aftermath of your choices, you try to suppress your feelings for the web-slinger, for both your sake and his. Funny how life never really listens, and now you're forced to unbottle your feelings and deal with the consequences of love.

Word Count: 6.2k

He groaned, head dizzy from the blast. Gripping the side of his head, he sat up, wincing. He hurt all over.

His gaze roamed in your direction. He froze. The destruction centered there, large pieces of debris scattered where you were. He couldn’t see you.

"No." Peter muttered. He scrambled to his feet, running toward the rubble. "No. No. No. No. This can't be happening."

Peter called out your name. Rapidly turning frantic, he pulled aside bits of rubble. His throat tightened, calling out to you. He just wanted to hear your voice. To know you were okay.

His heart spiked. He couldn't lose another person. Peter couldn't lose you. He grabbed larger pieces of debris and set them behind him. He needed to see you. His vision blurred with tears. He needed you to be alright.

It was heartbreaking to see. Watching Peter lose all cool. You stood far away from all the debris, but you could hear his shaky voice calling out to you. A part of you wanted to comfort him. The part that loved him pulled you forward.

A large hand on your shoulder stopped that from happening. Your expression sank, forced to watch the masked hero look for a body that wasn't even there.

Wilson Fisk patted your shoulder once. "You did your job. It's time you let me do mine."

You bit your lip. Fisk didn't know who Spider-Man was under the mask. You had enough love for Peter to keep his identity safe. Seeing him break down over a death he believed happened, to see how much he cared about you and to do nothing about it, you turned away.

Fisk kept his grip on your shoulder, guiding you away from the wreckage. "Our little victory will be rewarded soon."

You didn't answer. Looking over your shoulder, taking one last look at Peter, you let tears fall freely. He was never going to forgive you for this.

The car door opened and Fisk slid in first. You followed, eyes still on Spider-Man. The guard shut the door and moved to the driver's seat. You did your best to muffle your cries. Peter didn't deserve you.

"That's enough," Fisk reprimanded. He kept his eyes forward, unfeeling to the damage he'd done. "Forget about him. He's the enemy."

Your head fell. Touching your bracelet, you cried harder at the little spider charm on it.

How could a monster like you hurt the boy you loved?

You scowled at the wall, phone pressed to your ear. Your boss spoke gruffly on the other side of the line and you should have paid attention. Unfortunately, the small tv in the corner of the room played the news and the flash of red and blue tore you to that night.

“Do I make myself clear?”

You shook your head. “Yes, sir.”

“I won’t repeat myself. Don’t disappoint me.”

The line clicked and you resisted the urge to throw the phone at the wall. For two years, you had to live with the guilt and pain of hurting Spider-Man. He was a person with feelings and you ripped his heart with your so-called death. Fisk sent you away at that time to seal the deal that you were gone, but now that you were back you weren’t sure if you could handle the proximity.

Sure, he wasn’t right there, but you didn’t want to share a city with the boy you loved. Drawn to him, the urge to console and apologize to him was still prevalent. You tried to stop loving him, but you couldn’t. You touched your bracelet, pinching the spider charm, deep in thought. For the sake of your job, your mission, you requested to not be brought back here.

It didn’t matter to Fisk. For all he cared, you were a machine, an emotionless person. You knew how to suppress and control your emotions. He didn’t realize getting cozy with Spider-Man would soften you. And if he knew, he’d kill you himself. You’d be useless to have feelings.

Falling into your chair, you let your head fall back, rubbing your neck. With a sigh, you laid your hand on the desk, grabbing your mask and putting it on. You twisted the knob of the voice modulator attached under the chin. That was the one thing you hoped to keep Peter from ever learning you were back. If he couldn’t see your face or hear your voice, you’d be just another grunt for him to ignore.

-_-_-_-_-_-

Peter followed after the van from the shadows above. He thwipped his web against a high rise, using it to turn mid-air as the van turned a corner. His attention never left the van, using his instincts to keep him afloat.

For the past few weeks, he’s made major progress on one of Kingpin’s latest projects. Not to toot his own horn, but he’d been on a roll lately. First, there was a thing with Black Cat. She’s the one who tipped him off about the project in the first place, even if it was to get him off her tail. He’d deal with her later and find out whatever her schemes were. Felicia was harmless when she wanted to be.

Fisk had a weapon. A bio weapon. Something that was supposedly in that van. What Kingpin wanted with that weapon, he had an inkling. It was something of a countermeasure against him. Seemed like Spidey would finally meet his match, if the word on the street was anything to go by.

This weapon was deceiving. Something an ordinary person wouldn’t chance a second look at. Something about misdirection, he’s heard. He’s also heard this weapon has been used to knock down Kingpin’s opponents. With efficiency and no mercy. A scare tactic, a dog on a leash. Peter would have to do something about the weapon.

His plan was to either destroy it or take it back with him to…he’d work out the details later. Right now, he landed on a rooftop. Crouching at the edge, he watched closely. He needed to form a plan.

-_-_-_-_-_-

You fiddled with your voice modulator, alternating between a deep voice and one a more robotic voice. The two men in the van with you avoided eye contact but their faces sank in annoyance. You mimicked a laugh akin to a cartoon villain, amusing yourself with the modulator.

“You’re going to break that thing,” one of them said.

You turned the knob, voice deeper. “Fisk will replace it.”

He shook his head, staring at the wall of the van. You wished there were windows back here. “Spoiled brat.”

You dropped your hand to your lap. He couldn’t see your face but visibly tensed, expecting you to lash out on him. Rumors spread about you, none of them true, but it’s been going around that you were some rabid dog. Someone to not tick off or else you’d lose an arm. As much as you hated the lies, you enjoyed what little power it gave you over others.

The van slowed to a stop. You looked up as the door opened. One woman looked over the three of you with apprehension. “Are you-”

“Where’s the stuff?” The man beside you asked.

“Inside.” She locked eyes with your mask. “If you’ll follow me.”

One of the men pointed at you. “Stay here. If you hear anything, then come out.”

You huffed, slinking further into your seat. “Okay.”

The three of them left, closing the door behind them. You went back to fiddling with your modulator, no longer speaking but rather listening to the little clicks of each turn. It was quiet back here. You weren’t sure why you were told to come along if they hadn’t even meant for you to do anything. They were wrong about you being a rabid dog, you felt like a leash constantly kept you bound and at bay, away from any action.

A gunshot made you sit straighter. Two more followed. Then, a third. It was distant and fell quiet shortly after. You prayed it wasn’t who you thought it’d be. Fisk told you the hero was snooping around, but that he lured him away, set him off course. You weren’t supposed to come in contact with him at all.

Your leg bounced. If you left the van, you’d have to see him. If you stayed here, you’d risk a reprimand for not helping. Fisk would call you weak. He’d claim you were disposable.

Neither option sounded great, but the choice was made for you. The two van doors opened and a certain masked hero stared back at you. His lenses widened then narrowed at you, thinking.

“Not the sort of weapon I was expecting. Are you a mutant?”

You panicked. Just hearing his voice made you want to leap at him, to tell him everything. Leap you did, but with the intention to run away. You managed to knock him down and bolted for it, but a web caught your foot and pulled. Crashing onto the ground, you rolled over and saw Spider-Man still by the van.

His lenses narrowed. “I’m trying to have a conversation with you. Why do all the bad guys not humor me?”

You raised your fists. If he wasn’t going to let you run away that easily, you’d have to knock him out. It was your best bet.

“Whoa, whoa.” He held his hands up in surrender. “Maybe I was a little mean. I don’t want to hurt you. Not until I decide what sort of weapon you are.”

You took a step back. Maybe he would avoid a fight with you, if he could help it. Peter did have a soft heart. Clad in black armor, gloves and all, you might have looked hostile. You relaxed your shoulders.

A web shot out at you. “Doesn’t mean I’ll let you get away.”

With your attention solely on him, you let your senses guide you. You sidestepped quickly as the web dismally connected to the ground. Spider-Man hummed at your reflexes.

“Okay. Didn’t expect that. Let’s try that again.”

He shot out his web a second time and you dodged it with the same ease. Spider-Man put his hands on his hips, unsure what to do.

“Okay. Alright. I’ll stop. You win.” He made a show of shrugging and turning around, only to pivot and shoot out another web at you. This time, you dropped low to avoid it, eyes locked onto him. You just wanted to leave but he nodded. “This would be really fun if you weren’t, you know, a criminal. Do you even talk?”

You had enough of this. Flexing your hands, you decided if he wouldn’t stop his games, you’d have to chase him away. If you taunted him into acting first, you’d have the upper hand. “Talking is a distraction.”

“Oh, hey, you do talk.” Spider-Man stepped around you. You turned, following his movements while keeping your back from him. “I was beginning to think how stupid I was talking to myself.”

Your heart ached. You didn’t want to be near him at all, not when he was the enemy. Even if you unmasked yourself, you’d only hurt him worse. You didn’t want to remind him. He looked better, like he forgot about you.

“Come closer and you can talk to my fist.”

“Hey, now, champ.” Spider-Man side-skipped once then returned to walking in a circle. “Is that any way to talk to your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man?”

“You’re stalling.”

“I know, I know.” He nodded. “I’m just trying to figure out what to do with you once I tie you up. I could leave you to the cops like the rest of your buddies back there. Or, I could take you to my lair and get answers out of you, like what Fisk wants with you.”

You thought hard about what could make him tick. There was the obvious, personal stuff you knew about him, but you wanted to goad him into fighting you, not make him hate you. God, your mind flung back to the past.

Peter called your name frantically as he searched the rubble. In excruciating pain but he pushed through it to find out if you were alright. Hearing his voice crack with unshed tears as his masked counterpart cleared away debris.

Spider-Man whistled at you. “Hey, bud, you mind if I just-”

You didn’t even realize you froze. Spider-Man, a mere two feet behind you. You spun around, pushing him away. He couldn’t be too close to you. Mind still scrambled from the painful memory, you muttered his name on accident.

It was enough to put the webbed hero on edge. The lenses of his mask narrowed to near slits. He tilted his head, body tense.

“Where did you hear that?”

You didn’t respond, trying to back away.

He stepped toward you. “Does Kingpin know that name? Is that what you’re here for?”

You raised your arms defensively as he neared. God, you didn’t want him angry like this. You just missed him.

“What does Kingpin know about Peter Parker?” Spider-Man shot out a web at you. “Tell me.”

The web hit your chest but you grabbed it and yanked him toward you. He flung forward, straight into your raised foot that kicked him back. You faltered at his slight wince as he stumbled back. Hurting Peter was not an option for you, you decided.

“Does he know any other names?” Spider-Man was back in front of you.

“No.” Your heart rate spiked.

His voice raised in a slight panic. “You’re lying. Who does he know?”

You stood your ground, fists poised. “Nobody that concerns you.”

“You-” His words died on his tongue. You narrowed your gaze. What could he be thinking, you thought, until his hand wrapped around your wrist and held it between you. Right in front of his eyes dangled your bracelet. “Where did you get this?”

You needed to get away. Pulling your wrist against him, you struggled. His grip on your wrist tightened. You bit your tongue, swallowing down your guilt as you lunged a punch at his face. He caught it, holding you close.

Everything in you screamed to get away from him. Think of Fisk. Your boss. If he found out about this, about your ineptitude, he’d kill you. You did the only thing you could think of. Inching closer, you tugged your wrists toward you, bashing your forehead against his.

Peter stumbled back, stunned as he let go of your wrists. You cradled your wrist with the bracelet. His grip had turned painful. If he held on any longer, he may have crushed it. Truthfully, nailing your forehead against his was the wrong choice to make. It didn’t matter if you didn’t want to hurt Peter. He launched himself at you, throwing a punch at you. You blocked it, refraining from reciprocating. Don’t hurt him. Don’t hurt him.

“You killed her, didn’t you?” Peter continued a barrage of attacks on you. “Why?”

He shot a web to your legs, intertwining them while he punched your stomach. You fell to the ground, cradling your stomach. Peter crouched over you, taking hold of your armor’s collar and reeling his fist back. The white of his lenses barely present.

He punched you once through the mask. You cried out at the pain, head slamming into the ground. You tried to pry his hand off of you, but he had an iron grip. He lifted you up once more to knock you back down. Each time, your warbled cries filtered through the modulator.

“What do you really sound like?” He pulled the modulator, tearing it from your mask. “Who is the person who killed her?”

He punched you again and you cried out his name. “Peter!”

His body froze. Tense, his lenses widened fully. He grabbed the top of your mask and pulled it off, revealing your tousled hair and bloody nose. Hot tears trailed down your cheeks as your lips trembled.

Peter let go of your collar, his hands shaking. “You’re…but you’re…” He turned his hands toward him. “You’re dead.”

You didn’t say anything, choked sobs filling his ears. He shook his head, stepping off of you. As you rolled to your side and held yourself by your elbow, cradling your nose, Peter gripped his head.

“That’s not- I don’t understand.” He jolted toward you, afraid to get closer but desiring answers. Instead, he backed away, pointing a shaky finger at you. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

You hung your head low, crying. He wasn’t supposed to find out. Not at all. Especially not like this. Not from him beating down on his dead girlfriend. Despite your drool and blood leaking from your mouth onto the ground, you hurt on behalf of Peter. Again, here you were causing him pain.

“I didn’t mean for you to-” you choked back on more sobs.

Peter ripped his mask off, his horrified gaze staring down at you. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why are you-? Oh, God, and I just-”

“You didn’t know,” you justified. “Don’t blame yourself for this.”

“You’re alive and you kept it from me and I…And I just-” His gaze hardened. “You’re working with Fisk?”

You wiped away your tears, forcing yourself to swallow down your sobs. “I always have.”

“Even when we-” Peter shook his head. “Even when we were together?”

You knew he didn’t want to hear the answer. “Yes.”

Peter cursed. He paced back and forth, unable to look at you but simultaneously unable to keep his eyes off of you. It led to a very standoffish expression on his face, conflicted with his old love for you and the new information he learned. Was everything in his relationship a lie?

I love you, that much is true. You wanted to say it, but Peter looked too conflicted. Instead, you pushed yourself off of the ground, holding your stomach. Peter glanced at you but looked away in some form of disgust. You decided to help him with his decision. Just like back then, you’d walk out of his life. Only this time, quietly, and with a slight limp.

Peter clenched his jaw, letting you go. His hand itched to smooth your hair down, to wipe your tears and press you to his chest while he told you how much he missed you. He wanted to believe you cared about him. He wanted you to stay.

He put the mask back on and shot a web above, swinging away from the scene.

-_-_-_-_-_-

You spat, letting the blood and saliva mix with the cold water in the drain. Gripping the edge of the sink, you dabbed the wet rag to your nose. Right under your eye, a bruise had begun to form. You groaned in frustration, tossing the rag into the sink and hobbling back to your bed.

It’d been three days since your encounter with Peter. Fisk hadn’t called at all but that was the least of your worries. Fuck your job and life. You sat at the edge of the bed, rubbing your hands over your face and smoothing back your hair with a sigh. All that mattered was Peter. Was he okay?

You glanced around your room. The small studio apartment had been your hideout away from the life Fisk roped you into. It was barren, used only to stay off the streets for a few days before you’d go back to Fisk. Your phone sat on your nightstand, lifeless. You left your charger at your actual apartment and didn’t want to risk calling Fisk and not getting an answer. He’d reach out to you in due time, you guessed.

In the meantime, you put on your hoodie and stuffed your phone in your pocket. Going to the door, you planned to head out onto the roof. Whether for the fresh air or to see Peter again, you couldn’t say. You just didn’t want to be in this place with your thoughts. It was supposed to be a sanctuary from your problems, not a reminder of them.

Opening the door to the roof, you blew a raspberry. It was colder than you thought, pulling your jacket closer. Whatever, you weren’t going back inside. You moved to the parapet, hoisting yourself up and dangling your legs off the edge.

It wasn’t lively down in the streets but it was peaceful. The neighborhood your little hideout was nestled in had been one with low crime, compared to the rest of the city. Higher odds to hide from Fisk, you told yourself. Or, maybe you yearned for a more peaceful life.

You scrunched your face in annoyance, thinking of your reveal to Peter. You toyed with your bracelet, angling the spider charm under the dim lighting of the city. In all honesty, this gift from Peter had been so trivial, you didn’t think he’d remember it. It just showed how much he cared about you, remembering this little charm. There was more memorabilia to have treasured. The sweater you had. The matching necklaces you got that formed a heart. This was so little.

You pulled out your phone, toying with the device. Your gaze unfocused, looking beyond. Down on the street, with faint laughter, a couple walked hand in hand. They looked so in love, innocent in the moment. You squeezed your phone, remembering the pain on Peter’s face after he realized he punched you.

Before you knew it, your eyes squinted in the dim light of your phone as you dialed up a number. Your heart raced, the ringing putting you on edge. This was a mistake. What were you doing? You fool.

The ringing stopped. You held the phone to your ear, waiting. Heavy breathing could be heard on the other side, followed by a shaky exhale. You bit your cheek.

“I didn’t think you’d have it in you to call.”

You let out a soft sigh. “Peter.”

“You remembered my number?”

“Of course.” A small smile made its way to your face.

“I’m sorry.”

Your smile fell. “Peter, you did nothing wrong.”

“You may have lied to me but I hurt you. I…I wanted to kill you.” He sighed deeply. You imagined he swiped a hand over his face. “If I hadn’t taken away the voice modulator, if I didn’t take off your mask…”

“You were hurting.”

“Why did you do it?”

A stray dog scampered across the street. You pulled one leg up, wrapping your arm around it. “Which part?”

“All of it. Why did you date me? Why did you fake your death? Why are you back?”

“You know the answer to that, Peter.”

Only one word swept over both of your minds, the root of your problems.

“Fisk.” Peter took a breath. “Does he know my identity?”

“No. My mission was to get close to Spider-Man. Only I know who you are.”

“Okay.”

Silence fell over you both. You stopped swaying your leg, a question dancing on the tip of your tongue. Somewhere in your stomach, butterflies fluttered around like you had some schoolgirl crush.

“Peter?”

“Yeah?”

You wrapped the string of your hoodie around your finger. “Do you want to come over? To talk?”

This was stupid. You should have been doing your part to stay out of his life. Apologize for what you’ve done, tell him to forget you, end the call, and maybe you’d finally leave Fisk’s clutches. In no way should you ask him to come over. His silence was answer enough. You overstepped. You should’ve stayed dead for his sake.

Peter’s voice crackled to life. “Where are you?”

The corners of your mouth turn up in barely containable joy. You gave him the address of the hideout. Yeah, the idea of this place was to hide from Fisk and the worse parts of your life but this was Peter. If anything, he was the best thing to happen to you. You just wanted to see him again.

“How soon can you be here?” You bit your lip.

His voice was muffled by the sound of wind. “Give me five minutes, tops.”

You agreed to end the call so he could use both his hands. Holding your phone between your thighs, you bit your bottom lip with a smile. This was almost reminiscent of the first time you fell for the web-slinger. It started with a phone call that led him to your apartment, the one everyone knew about. Where Peter confessed his feelings to you and you realized your mission, befriending Spider-Man alone would not be enough.

You decided to wait for him in your room. The window already slid up, you sat on your bed with your knees to your chest. It was pure torture how slow the seconds ticked by. That made it all the more wonderful when time finally sped up by the red and blue suit that crawled through your window.

Peter closed the window, slipping off his mask. He didn’t turn around right away, looking down at his hands. This was a rushed decision on both your parts and unease crept back into you. Neither of you were ready to face one another but here you were. Despite the situation, your heart fluttered.

Peter smiled lowly, shaking his head. He shifted to look at you but his smile fell. His mask crumpled further in his hold. You knew his eyes were locked onto your face, right on your bruise.

You set your feet on the ground, slowly standing as if he were some frail animal you didn’t want to spook. “Hi, Peter.”

“I-” he stammered, dropping his hands at his sides. “That looks bad.”

You touched your cheek lightly, shaking your head. “It looks worse than it feels.”

“Right. Uh.” He shifted, his hand catching his hair. “I don’t really know what to do. I didn’t think this through.”

“Me neither.”

“Your place looks nice.” He gestured to the completely empty space, save for basic furniture. “Love what you’ve done with it.”

You laughed, nodding. “Thanks. I’ll get you in contact with my interior designer.”

Peter took a deep breath, chancing a step forward. And another. His sweet brown eyes met yours, a foot away. He fought back a frown at how closely he could observe your bruises now.

“I still can’t believe you’re here.”

Peter raised his hand, gingerly touching your bruised cheek. You flashed a wince but it was enough to move his hand away. Instead, he brought it to the side of your neck, his thumb rubbing along your jawline.

You touched his wrist delicately. “I should have been honest from the start.”

“Are you…” He touched his free hand to yours. “Are you still working under Kingpin?”

“I think so.”

“You think so?”

“If word gets around that I let Spider-Man take me out without a fight, Fisk will have my head. I’m no use if I can’t keep back the only thing he brought me up for.”

Peter’s gaze sank. “How long have you been a weapon? What exactly makes you a weapon?”

“I just have enhanced reflexes. It’s a really minor strength.” It was so freeing to be able to tell Peter these things. To not have to hide from him anymore. “Almost like your reflexes, without all the spider abilities.”

He nodded. “How’d you get them?”

“Born with it. Fisk just found me and made me an offer.” You frowned. “I wouldn’t have taken it if I had a choice. You know that, right? I didn’t exactly have a great past.”

“I get it but are you willing to change?” Peter’s hand took your own, his mask fallen to the ground. “If I told you that you could be with me. You don’t have to be afraid of Fisk.”

“Peter, I don’t know.” You were honest, at least. “I don’t exactly have a clean record.”

“We’ll get around that together.” Peter rubbed his thumb over your knuckles. “You just-you don’t have to live in the shadows anymore. I know you’re a good person deep down.”

“You do?”

Peter smiled. “I do. And something tells me you want to be good.”

You faltered. “But, Fisk.”

“Forget Fisk. If you say yes, I’ll help you. You won’t have to fight him alone.”

Your lower lip trembled. You let go of his hand, wrapping your arms around his middle and pulling yourself closer. Peter instantly returned the embrace, holding you tightly.

“I’m so sorry I hurt you, Peter.”

“And I’m sorry I hurt you.”

You breathed in his scent, closing your eyes. “I’ll do it. Wilson Fisk will no longer control who I am.”

His lips brushed over the top of your head. You couldn’t deny how safe you felt in his arms. At ease. You didn’t blame him for earlier; he didn’t know it was you. Now that you didn’t have to run from Peter, you didn’t want to let go of him for the rest of time.

He murmured against your hairline. “I never stopped loving you.”

You tilted your head back, resting your chin on his chest. The two of you smiled, happy to be reunited. Happy to be back together.

“And I’ve never stopped missing you,” you said.

You placed a hand on the back of his neck. Peter’s grip on you loosened as you stood on the balls of your feet. Your eyes fluttered shut. Lips brushing against his, his hands took hold of your waist, giving you an encouraging squeeze.

Peter mumbled against your mouth. “We should catch up.”

“Isn’t that what we’re doing?”

He shook his head slightly. “More.”

Peter guided you backwards, his mouth pressed against yours. He parted his lips and you followed, your mouths moving slow with one another. You wanted to bask in this moment. This was both your apology and promise to never leave Peter. You wouldn’t turn your back on him, not now and certainly not ever.

The back of your knees hit the bed. Peter’s hands slid to your thighs. You took the hint and jumped, wrapping your legs around his waist while he held you up. He made a feat of climbing onto the bed with ease, easing you onto the mattress so your head rested on the pillows.

You broke the kiss to peel off your hoodie, followed by your shirt. Given that it was night, you hadn’t worn a bra, much to Peter’s delight. He gently cupped your breasts, latching his mouth to yours once more. You sighed on his tongue, goosebumps crawling on your skin. His suit was freezing cold.

Your fingers curled into the collar of his suit, tugging gently. Peter understood the message, breaking apart to peel off his suit until he was in his boxers. As he stripped above you, you raised your hps, sliding off your pants and underwear in one go. He helped pry them off your ankles, tossing them aside.

His name slipped out of you, sitting up to kiss him before he could take off his boxers. You couldn’t stand to be apart from him. Every second would be used feeling him, relearning Peter inside and out. From the way his lips would curl into a smile during your slower kisses, or the feel of his toned chest.

Your hand slipped down to his boxers, touching him over the material. He groaned lowly in your mouth, hips pressing into your touch. A warm response to his excitement, you splayed your palm flat against it. Peter softly moaned your name.

Your finger crooked into the waistband, pulling it out and letting it snap back against him. “Peter, I want you in me, now.”

“Me too,” he muttered against your lips. He broke the kiss. “I missed everything about you.”

Your fingers combed through his hair as he pulled his boxers down and tossed them off the bed. He sighed dreamily, arms wrapping around your middle as he pulled you up to kiss him. Your nails scratched down his stomach, the tips of your fingers reacquainting themselves with a gentle touch to his dick. It twitched slightly.

“Don’t tease me.”

“Peter, have I ever?” You joked.

Your hand wrapped around his dick. Thumbing his tip, Peter shuddered above you. He groaned into your mouth. You continued to simply rub circles on his tip, asking him to touch you back. He kissed you, one hand slipping between you to oblige.

Peter rubbed slow circles around your clit and opening. He gathered your wet slick around his fingers, rubbing faster. Your hand dropped to take his and have both hands on your opening, gathering slick. You brought both to his dick, having him slide your coating on himself. Peter quivered, pressing his lips on yours once more.

He went back to touching you. He only played with your clit a little longer before one finger prodded your opening. You slowly pumped his dick to the rhythm he fingered you. Both of you gasped into one another’s mouths. The faster you pumped him, the faster he fucked his finger into you, quickly adding another while his thumb rubbed circles.

You moaned, thighs tensing. “Peter, I-”

You grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away. Bringing one leg behind him, your heel pressed into his lower back, urging him to fill you. Peter kissed you harder, taking his dick and lining it up with your opening. He teased you just a little longer, rubbing his dick up and down along your cunt.

You mewled and Peter immediately gave in, unwilling to control himself with your noises. He inched himself in, your little whines and moans like music to his ears. Fully inserted, Peter peppered your face with kisses.

“I missed you. I missed us.” He muttered against your mouth. “I missed you.”

“Peter,” you pathetically sighed. As much as you missed him too, you impatiently rolled your hips. Your thoughts weren’t as coherent as his at the moment. “Please.”

He pulled out, thrusting back into you. It was a slow start. Peter took his time, allowing you to feel him. He wanted you to remember his dick as much as he remembered your cunt. His eyes fluttered shut, thrusting into you languidly. His control shrank with each thrust, though, as you bucked your hips into his. You had plenty of time to relearn his body, you just wanted him now.

Peter groaned, his resolve gone. He thrust faster, setting a pace for himself. You grabbed hold of the back of his neck, pulling him down to kiss you while your legs wrapped around his waist. He turned his face, grabbing your wrist and bringing your hand forward.

Closing his eyes, he kissed your palm, sliding his lips up to brush over your fingers. Your heart soared as he muttered his love for you against your hand. His mutterings moved to your mouth, his fingers intertwined with yours and pressed your hand to the bed.

He kissed your neck and shoulder, muttering praises to you. You were his beautiful girl. His sweet girl. He squeezed your hand. “I love you.”

Your breaths came out in shaky pants. No thoughts came to mind but how good he felt in you. You still managed to bring your free hand to his back and press him closer and repeat after him. “I love you. Peter, I love you.”

The room filled with your two moans and a mantra of “I love you”s. You two couldn’t come up with anything else to say after, only moaning each other's names and how much you loved each other. Your love raised in volume as Peter bucked into you faster.

“Peter, ah.” you moaned. “Peter, I love you.”

Your moans took over any proper speech. Only Peter continued to breathlessly tell you how much he loved you, thrusting into you wildly. Your hands squeezed, the two of you near your climaxes. You did your best to match his thrusts, back arching and moaning into the dark.

It happened in a hot flash. Both you and Peter groaned as you came together. Your cunt spasmed around his dick, squeezing his cum out of him. Peter’s thrusts lost their rhythm, his hips slamming into yours as he fucked you through your orgasms.

When all your energy was spent, Peter’s hand slipped from yours to hold himself above you properly. He pulled out of you, his dick limp and covered in a slick sheen over your stomach. Your cunt still fluttered, leaking slightly.

You looked him in the eye as Peter’s face screwed tight in pain. He choked back a sob. “God, I can’t believe you’re here. You’re fucking really here.”

You cupped both sides of his face, smiling up at him. “I am. And I’m never going to leave you again.”

He forced a laugh as he smiled back at you. “Good. I don’t think I could lose you a second time.”

He lowered himself to capture your lips one more time. You gripped his dark hair, your throat tightening. The two of you broke the kiss, foreheads pressed together as your grief finally hit.

Years of pain and misery, alone without your other half. You missed him and now you could finally hold him again. Peter buried his face in your shoulder as you both sat up. His arms wrapped around your middle, holding you close.

Together, you both cried out in pain, in relief. So much hurt and now you could be together. He didn’t have to grieve over you anymore, now that you were here in his arms. It didn’t matter what happened tomorrow, what happened with Fisk, or anything. As long as you were together, you’d get through this.

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