Spiderman Imagine - Blog Posts

The Hidden Hero | Peter Parker Series

Summary: In an alternative universe, Peter Parker has the biggest crush on the reader. Even though the reader doesn’t know his secret, the reader is obsessed with the webslinger. So Spiderman decides to show up at Liz’s Party to impress everyone, specifically the reader.

Warning: some spoilers

Pairing: Peter Parker (Spiderman) x reader

Type: The Hidden Hero Series

MASTERLIST

A/N: THIS IS A HEAVILY EDITED VERSION OF MY VERY FIRST FANFICTION. IT PROBABLY REALLY SUCKS SO I AM SO SORRY ABOUT THAT. BUT IT WAS MY FIRST ONE SO I WANTED TO POST IT.

The bright yellow buses were pulling up to the curb of the school grounds. The large crowd of high school students hustling and bustling down the corridors. The monotone buzz of several-hundred voices hummed like an orchestra throughout the hallways. 

The small group of gossiping girls were hanging around the lockers. They giggled amongst themselves. They always wore those mini skirts and tight shirts. The cliquey jocks were currently talking about the football game last night. They were wearing the exact same athletic jacket that they wore every single day. The parade of band geeks had just walked past them with their huge instrument cases. There were the aerospace tech kids who never did anything but make different robot models to battle between periods. 

The familiar squeaking sound of sneakers were catching against the newly waxed floors. The metal locker doors were slammed shut once the students had gathered their textbooks for that period. The bell was ringing loudly on the sidelines, signaling the start of classes for the day.

At the given moment, Peter Parker was maneuvering his way through the crowd of students with his best friend Ned Leeds. He was currently carrying his textbooks because he had lost his backpack yesterday. The two of them were making their way to their first class of the day.

Last night, Ned had caught Peter sneaking into his bedroom dressed as the Spiderman. He had seen him crawling on the ceiling! It was quite a shock to find out that his best friend was the webslinger that he had saw on youtube. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to keep his secret. And he had a million questions for him.

Throughout the whole day, Ned was asking questions about Peter’s alter-ego. He was able to come up with a handful of different questions in each class. Those questions mostly consisted of the range of the webslinger’s abilities, such as whether or not he could summon an army of spiders or how far he could shoot his webs. He was always given short or curt answers.

Near the end of the day, Peter and Ned were forced to go to gym class. They watched a short video that had Captain America talking about the fitness challenge. As if on cue, Ned asked his friend if he knew the infamous avenger. He said that he did and that he stole his shield.

Now the students were told to get into pairs of two. They would be doing sit-ups. They would alternate every few minutes between partners. At the moment, Ned was holding down Peter’s feet so he crank out those sit-ups. He actually found that they weren’t so hard to do anymore, now that he had this weird radioactive spider venom in his blood. 

“Can I be your guy in the chair?” Ned wondered spontaneously. 

“What?” Peter whispered. He had spoken in this low tone of voice so that nobody would be able to hear them. He didn’t quite understand his question.

“You know there is a guy with a headset telling the other guy where to go. Like if you were stuck in a burning building, I could tell you where to go because there would be screens around me. You know? I could swivel around them. And I could be your guy in the chair,” Ned explained.

“I don’t need a guy in the chair,” Peter insisted. He shook his head at the idea. He heard the gym teacher praising him on the sidelines, causing him to pause momentarily. He was quick to resume his sit-ups. 

In the background, Y/N had forced herself to walk into the gymnasium. She had immediately hurried towards the gym teacher to explain why she was late to class. She had been tutoring another student during the hour. She quickly handed him a slip of paper. He took one glance at him, nodding his head in confirmation. He told her that she could just sit on the bleachers for the rest of the class because it was almost over anyways.

Out of instinct, Peter had shifted into a sitting position and stopped doing his sit-ups. He could feel the little hairs on his arm raise. His spider senses were telling him that someone had just walked into the gym, but it wasn’t just anyone. It was his crush.

“She’s here, isn’t she?” Peter said. He didn’t seem to take his eyes away from his best friend in front of him. He waited for a response. His friend turned his head to look across the small stretch of the room, settling his gaze on the familiar looking student. He nodded his head.

“Yeah. How’d you know?” Ned questioned. He had furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. He was slightly taken back by his comment.

“Spider senses,” Peter waved off. He had just briefly turned his head to look at her through the corner of his eye. He could barely see her talking with the gym teacher. He was quick to start doing his sit-ups again. “Can she see me? Do you know if she’s looking at me?” Peter whispered in question.

“Oh yeah,” Ned said with a firm nod of the head. He could see her heading towards the bleachers right behind them. He caught her turn her head slightly towards them. “She saw you,” Ned confirmed.

On the bleachers, Y/N had found herself settling down beside her small group of friends. They were currently playing the game called ‘fuck, marry, kill.’ They would list off three random names of celebrities or artists. Then they would have to decide who they would fuck, marry, and kill. They listed three of the avengers.

“You see for me it would be…fuck Thor...marry Iron Man...and kill Hulk,” Betty Brant concluded. Some of her friends had totally agreed with her lineup, but there were a few friends who would have made a completely different choice.

“What about the Spiderman?” Y/N wondered. She had lowered herself down onto the bleachers, looking at each of her friends with curious eyes. She could see her friend Liz Allen shrug her shoulders at the thought.

“It’s just Spiderman,” Liz claimed. She made a face of disgust. She must not have thought that he was that impressive or attractive.

“Did you guys see that big security cam on youtube? He fought off four guys!” Y/N exclaimed. She was now leaning forward in her place. She was quite eager to defend her opinion. She was practically praising him.

In the background, Peter and Ned had turned their heads to look towards the small group sitting on the bleachers. Neither one of them could believe the words they were hearing coming out of her mouth. They looked at each other in slight shock.

“Oh my gosh. She’s crushing on Spiderman,” Betty joked. Her face had twisted into this playful smirk. She leaned over to nudge her friend in the side.

“No way!” Liz laughed.

“Kinda,” Y/N shrugged. She had dropped her gaze to stare down at her hands in her lap. She tried to hide the bright blush creeping up onto her face. She smiled to herself.

“Ugh. Gross,” Betty scoffed. “He’s probably like thirty,” Betty claimed.

“You don’t even know what he looks like. What if he is like seriously burned?” Liz suggested. She had waved her hands in a dramatic manner. She was just trying to make a point.

“I wouldn’t care. I would still love him for the person he is on the inside,” Y/N said with a small smile on her face. “He’s a good man! And its obvious he really cares about this city. That is something I really admire about him,” Y/N confessed.

“Peter knows Spiderman!” Ned blurted out. He didn’t really know what came over him, but he couldn’t stop those words from coming out of his mouth. He could see that everyone in the room had stopped what they were doing upon hearing his comment.

In response, Peter’s mouth dropped open in absolute shock. He turned his head to look at his best friend with wide eyes. He was quick to scramble to his feet, shaking his head in denial.

“Uh, no. I don’t,” Peter said. He had taken a few steps forward in his place, standing in front of the small group of friends on the bleachers. He was trying to find the right words to explain himself. “No. I-I mean,” Peter stuttered. 

“They’re friends,” Ned added with a smile on his face. 

“Yeah. Like Coach Wilson and Captain America are friends,” Flash teased. He had stopped climbing the rope in the background, landing on the floor with a thump. He started to walk towards his rival because he was very interested in this conversation.

“I-I’ve met him a couple times but its uh…through the Stark internship,” Peter clarified. He stumbled over his choice of words. He had lifted his hand to scratch the back of his head in a nervous manner. He nodded his head in confirmation. “Mhmm. Yeah. But I am not really suppose to talk about it,” Peter claimed.

“Well, that’s awesome,” Flash replied. His voice was laced with sarcasm. He had stopped in his place. He had turned his body towards the small group of friends sitting on the bleachers, gesturing to them with the small wave of the hand. “Hey, you know what? Maybe you should invite him to Liz’s party,” Flash said.

“Yeah, I am having people over tonight. You are more than welcome to come,” Liz said. She could feel the strong sense of embarrassment creeping through her body because she hadn't invited them to the party beforehand. She just felt like they were kinda losers so she didn’t want to invite them. But at least she was kind enough to invite them now.

“You’re having a party?” Ned wondered. He knew that this was the first time that he was hearing about this party. He could only wonder why he hadn’t already been invited to the party.

“W-Will you be there, Y/N?” Peter stuttered. She had lifted her head to look directly into his soft brown eyes. She had smiled shyly at him. She nodded her head in confirmation. He could feel his heart fluttering in the confines of his chest.

“Yeah! It’s gonna be dope. You should totally invite your personal friend Spiderman,” Flash said in a persistent tone of voice. He stood directly in front of his rival, staring him down. He was puffing out his chest to be more intimidating (and maybe a little taller than him).

“Flash,” Y/N warned. “Leave him alone.”

“Ah come on. He’ll be there,” Flash promised. He turned his head to look at her with this playful expression on his face. He winked at her. He smirked to himself in triumph. But he didn’t seem to catch the moment where she rolled her eyes at him.

The whole conversation would come to an abrupt end when the bell rang to dismiss the last class of the day. The students were quick to stand to their feet and make their way towards the door. Meanwhile, Peter had watched his crush stand to her feet. The two of them briefly met each other’s gaze for a split second. She sent him a small smile. She didn’t even know that his eyes were following her figure out of the gym.

“What are you doing?!?” Peter turned his attention back towards his best friend standing behind him. He had thrown his hands up in exaggeration. He just couldn't believe that his friend would do that to him.

“Helping you out. Did you not hear her? She has a crush on you!” Ned exclaimed. He could feel the smile growing at the corners of his lips. He watched his best friend open his mouth to say something against him, but nothing could come out. “You are an avenger! If any one of us has a chance with her, it’s you.” Ned confessed.

Previously, Peter had actually known her since grade school. The two of them had become pretty close friends. He had developed his first crush on her, but he was never able to gather enough courage to tell her. Now here she was, years later with a crush on his alter ego. It almost didn’t feel real to him.

That night, Aunt May had driven Peter and Ned to the house for the party. She parked the car in front of the house. For a brief second, Peter had said that this would be a mistake and that he wanted to just go home. His aunt said that she totally understood how he was feeling. She was eventually able to convince him to go to the party after all. 

The two teenage boys turned to look at the grand house in front of them. They had started walking up the sidewalk, heading towards the house. The two of them had passed by plenty of other students that went to their same high school. And they could hear the music blasting from inside the house.

“You have the suit, right?” Ned questioned. Very discreetly, Peter lifted up his flannel sleeve to show him the web shooters and red costume underneath his clothing. “This is going to change our lives!” Ned exclaimed.

The music was so loud that it would be hard to hear the person talking right beside them. The bass thumped in time with the boys’ heart beat as though they were one with the song. Over the roar of music, a distant hazy chatter could be heard throughout the entire house. The high school students could be found holding red solo cups with harmless non-alcoholic drinks.

Of course, Flash would be in charge of the music for the night. He had a pair of heavy headphones around his neck. He rubbed his hands against the two records at the station to create that iconic record scratch sound. He was just trying to look cool. 

“Okay. We are gonna have Spiderman swing in, say you guys are tight. And then I get a fist bump or one of those half bro hugs,” Ned said in a low tone of voice. He really had this whole thing planned out.

A familiar figure had found herself walking around the corner of the hallway. She had turned her head to look at the two teenage boys standing in the short distance. She was quick to make her way towards them, feeling a smile stretching across her face.

“Oh! Hey guys,” Y/N said. She waved at them. She had walked towards them until she was standing right in front of them. She quickly looked between the two of them with the softest and kindest look on her face.

“Hey Y/N,” Ned said with a silly grin on his face. He had forced himself to straighten his back in posture, standing at attention. He turned his head to look at his best friend through the corner of his eye. He nudged him in the side. 

“Hey Y/N,” Peter’s voice squeaked.

“I’m glad you guys came,” Y/N confessed. She was holding onto her own red solo cup in her hands. She lifted her other hand to gesture to the table behind her. “There is pizza and drinks so feel free to help yourself,” Y/N claimed.

“Wow! What a great party,” Peter had choked on his own words. He had turned his head to look at her with this sweet boyish grin on his face. He could feel his heart hammering on the inside of his chest. 

“Thanks. I barely did anything. It was all Liz,” Y/N insisted with the wave of the hand. She could hear someone calling her name in the background. She turned her head towards the sound of the voice, spotting one of her friends in the crowd. “Oh! I should go,” Y/N said. 

“Yeah,” Peter nodded his head. She found herself hurrying towards her small group of friends in the short distance. She had looked over the small stretch of her shoulder, waving goodbye to them. 

“Dude! What are you doing?” Ned wondered. “She’s here, spider it up!”

“No. No. No. I can’t. I cannot do this. Spiderman is not a party trick,” Peter said. He shook his head in denial. He quickly straightened his back in posture. He ran his hands over the invisible wrinkles in his shirt. He shrugged his shoulders to himself. “Look, I am just gonna…be myself,” Peter whispered.

“Peter,” Ned groaned. He had closed his eyes for a brief second. He shook his head at his friend’s comment. “No one wants that,” Ned said harshly.

“Dude,” Peter said hurtfully. He was quick to turn his body to walk away from his friend. He heard his name being called over the speakers in the room. He turned his head to look across the small stretch of the room, looking directly at his rival holding the microphone. 

“Penis Parker! What’s up? Where is your pal, Spiderman? Let me guess, in Canada with your imaginary girlfriend?” Flash teased him. He was only encouraged by the sound of laughter coming from the high school students in the room. “That’s not Spiderman. That’s just Ned in a red shirt,” Flash joked.

Somehow, through peer pressure, Peter found himself standing on the roof of the house. He had disregarded his regular clothing onto the top of the roof. He was now wearing his red and blue suit of his alter-ego. He knelt down on the rooftop and gazed down at the small house.

“Hey! What’s up? I am Spiderman,” Peter whispered to himself. He lifted his hands to the neckline of his white shirt. He pulled the shirt over his head. “Just thought I would swing by...say hello to my buddy Peter. Oh hey! What’s up, Ned? Where is Peter anyways?” Peter said to himself.

Now Peter could see his best friend standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. He felt bad that he had left him alone for a few minutes. However, there was still this part of Peter that did not want to make his presence known at the party. He just didn’t think that it was right. 

“I can’t do this.” Peter whispered. He shook his head at the crazy idea. He could see his crush walk across the small stretch of the room, stopping to stand beside his best friend. She had asked him a question, only receiving a small shrug of the shoulders in response. She sighed to herself in defeat. 

In that moment, Ned had yanked out his phone to dial his best friend’s number. He had turned his body so that his backside was facing the large crowd of students in the room. His best friend had answered his phone without hesitation.

“Peter! Where are you? She is asking for you,” Ned said desperately. He turned his head to look over the small stretch of his shoulder, spotting her familiar figure in the distance. He waited for some kind of response.

“I will be there in a second,” Peter concluded. He had this fluttery feeling in the confines of his chest, thumping against his chest in a violent manner. He didn’t know if he was nervous or excited. 

With great hesitation, Peter had pulled his mask over his head. He stood to his feet. He had jumped down to the ground, landing on his feet with a small thump. He had started walking towards the house, making his way through the heavy crowd of people. 

“Oh sorry,” Spiderman apologized. Every single person had turned their heads to look at the infamous superhero standing amongst them. The high schoolers’ mouths had dropped open in absolute disbelief. The webslinger was currently maneuvering his way through the crowd of students until he was finally inside the house. “Sorry, I just gotta…find my friend Peter,” Spiderman claimed.

“Spiderman?” He forced himself to turn around upon hearing the sound of that sweet voice. His robotic eyes had dilated subconsciously. His head moved up and down her body. His actions did not go unnoticed by her. “W-What are you doing here?” Y/N wondered. 

“Oh, you know. Peter called me and asked if I could show,” Spiderman claimed. He had lifted his hand to wave in dismissal (like it wasn’t a big deal).  

“No way,” Flash said. His voice was laced in the tone of disbelief. He pushed his way past the crowd. He had shifted to stand in the middle of the room, stopping in his place. He soon came face to face with the webslinger himself. “You’re really him? Are you really friends with Peter Parker?” 

In response, Spiderman had turned his head to look over his rival’s shoulder. His large robotic eyes had settled on that familiar figure standing behind his face. He found himself pushing right past him to approach her. He stood directly in front of her. “Hi,” he said awkwardly.

“Hi,” she smiled at him.

“What’s your name? Wait. No. Let me guess,” Spiderman teased. He had lifted his gloved hand towards the front of his face, tapping his chin in thought. He pointed his finger at her. He was able to ‘guess’ her name pretty easily.

“Y-Yeah!” Y/N exclaimed. She was more than surprised to hear that the webslinger actually knew her name. She could only feel her smile growing bigger and bigger with each passing second. “How did you know?” Y/N wondered.

“Peter talks a lot about you,” Spiderman explained. He was hoping that his other persona could score some points with her. He could only wonder if she would give his other self a chance.

“H-He does?” She gasped.

“Spiderman!” Ned shouted. He had found himself taking a few steps forward in his place, shifting through the heavy crowd of students. He just knew that every single person was looking at him. He smiled at his best friend. “Hi! It’s Ned. Remember me?” Ned said with a bright smile on his face.

“Yeah! I do. How are you doing?” Spiderman said enthusiastically. He did give him the fist bump that he so desperately asked for. Of course, Ned was trying to play it cool. But he could hardly contain himself knowing that he would be popular for the rest of his life.

"I am doing fine,” Ned said cooly. He had this smug look on his face. He crossed his arms over his chest. He was hoping to maintain that cool looking stance. “But I’ll let you get back to Y/N. She’s a big fan of you,” Ned observed.

“Really?” Spiderman teased her. He had turned his head to look back towards the smaller figure standing behind him. His robotic eyes had made it look like he was quirking an eyebrow at her in amusement. He could easily spot the bright blush flooding her cheeks. 

“Well, kinda,” she replied shyly. She didn’t mean to fiddle with her fingers nervously. She had dropped her gaze to stare down at the ground, feeling the blood rushing to her cheeks. She shuffled on the heels of her feet in her stance. 

“Well, I should get going.” Spiderman didn’t want to prolong his stay at the party for his own sake. He placed his hands on his hips. He held that heroic stance for dramatic effect. “New York isn’t going to save itself,” Spiderman came up with a lame excuse. 

“Yeah,” she said quietly. She couldn’t help but dreamily admire him. She could only imagine that he was this incredibly handsome looking young man underneath the mask. She smiled at him.

“It was nice to finally meet you. Could you also tell Peter that Mr Stark needs him at the internship at four thirty tomorrow?” Spiderman had tried to make another excuse for her to talk to his other self tomorrow. “Can you do that for me?” Spiderman wondered.

She had nodded her head in confirmation. He did not hesitate to wink at her with those big robotic eyes, which only caused her heart to flutter in her chest. He used his web shooters to swing away from the party. He made his way back up to the rooftop to change back into his regular clothes. 

“I can’t believe he actually showed,” Flash said to her. He had turned his head to look in the general direction they had last seen the famous webslinger swing off to. He crossed his arms over his chest. He shook his head and scoffed to himself. 

“What’s the matter, Flash? Jealous of Peter or Spiderman?”

Missed Me

Peter Parker/Spiderman x Reader

Warning: Criminal activity??? Idk fam

REQUESTS ARE OPEN. DROP ME ONE. SWING ON BY. OR REQUEST A PART TWO FOR THIS. DO SOMETHING. THX.

To say you were a criminal felt like an insult. You weren’t a criminal, you were someone who had a gift and chose to use it to your benefit. Perhaps that was a criminal but you just called it being resourceful.

You sat on the counter of the darkened store, your legs dangling over the edge as you swung them back and forth. You held up the necklace to the little moonlight that peeked in through the otherwise pitch black store and thought it over. You were unsure whether your sister would really like the rhinestone heart charm but hell, it was the thought that counted, right?

You pocketed the necklace and hopped off the counter, humming softly to yourself. You then began to make your way through the store, looking at the various items that lined the racks and shelves. You never stole more than two to four things, you weren’t that much of a thief. And you only stole the cheaper things anyway.

You practically bounced around the store, like a child who was told they could pick any candy they wanted. The surveillance camera was of little concern to you, why, it’s not like the cameras could see you anyway.

The store was pitch black and because of some little accident, you were too. You liked to call it shadow blending, but you didn’t really know what it was. Either way, you could manipulate the shadows around you and you’d be damned if you weren’t going to use that to your advantage.

Just as you spotted a particularly attractive vest, you heard a noise off behind you. “A silent alarm, of course,” you scowled to yourself as you slinked around the clothing rack to look around the store. If the police were going to respond, you had to be out of there quick. Your powers wouldn’t work if the store was all lit up.

Instead, you saw no police. You just saw some kid in a flashy red and blue suit. “Hellooo?” he called out, looking around the store curiously. You quirked an eyebrow, wondering if he really thought someone would respond. “Burglars...you there?” He asked again and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

Quickly your eyes widened as you scampered away from where you’d been standing, his attention now turned to where you previously were. You stood a few feet behind him now, mulling over whether or not you should mess with him. Making shadows move was just harmless fun for you.

You stepped closer to him, intending to concentrate on the shadows that surrounded you but it was like he could just sense you. He spun around on his heels and before you knew it, you found yourself back against the wall, some sort of netting (webbing rather) holding you in place as your illusion had worn itself off. “You know, it’s illegal to steal right?” He asked you, sounding fairly proud of himself. The hood over your head covered enough of your face that he shouldn’t be able to identify you, at least you hoped. This had never happened before.

Stupid silent alarms.

“You know it’s wrong to trap people to walls?” You shot back, struggling against the bindings. “Let’s make a deal here Spiderboy, you let me down and I won’t steal.”

“It’s...Spider-Man actually,” he corrected, somewhat sheepishly for a hero.

“Okay cool, let me down.”

“It’ll dissolve in a few hours, you’ll be fine. Just long enough for the cops to get here,” he told you matter-of-factly, crossing his arms over his chest. You could just imagine his face underneath that mask of his looking so proud about capturing you. With that, he began to head out. Well more or less, jump on top of a clothing rack, preparing to swing out of the open door. Clearly he was bit of a showboat.

“Yeah well, I have homework.”

“Should’ve thought about that before!” he called out, his voice fading into the night as you struggled against the binding before hanging your head. You let yourself calm as you concentrated hard on the darkness that surrounded you. You had only ever thought about your next step in theory, but you’d never actually done it.

If you could manipulate the darkness, could you solidify it? You felt your head pound as the concentration took its toll but you found yourself fall to the floor as your plan had worked and you managed to use the darkness like a knife, slicing you free.

You could hear the sounds of sirens in the distance and you sure weren’t going to stay around, as you rushed out the way you had came.

————————

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” you heard his voice tease as you spun on your heels to face the Spider, who perched on the check out counter. Robbing a closed convenience store should’ve been an easy in-and-out job.

“Slow day?” You quipped, putting your hands up in false surrender. You certainly weren’t going to give up just because ‘Spiderboy’ thought he could take you.

“Night, actually,”

You hummed in response before sprinting to the side, using the darkness like a shroud to disappear. Just like you had hoped, he wasn’t ready as he jumped off of the counter and frantically searched the store for you.

“Missed me!” You yelled, as you had sprung over the check-out counter. In the confusion, you had gotten behind it and took the chance to ambush him. You pressed your hands into his back, shoving him into the nearest convenience rack. You then took off towards the entrance, but found the thick webbing tight around your hand.

“Missed me,” he retorted, pulling you back and swiftly connecting the webbing to the counter. Before you could even try to muster a reply, he sprung from the shop, leaving you high and dry. Or webbed and waiting for the cops.

You used your free hand to try and pry yourself free but no use. “What is this stuff made out of?” You asked aloud to no one in particular before settling for your previous escape attempt.

You snatched some gummy worms off the checkout counter before exiting the store, and literally disappearing into the darkness of night.

————————

The bakery was dark, as were you as you dragged your fingertips across the glass case that housed all of the delicious treats. Of course, you could try and make these at your apartment but chances were you’d just die trying.

Hopping behind the counter, you headed toward the encased cakes and surveyed them all. You truly wished you could have all of them but you knew that the delicate white one with pink flowers was all you really needed. Grabbing the large cake plate and pulling it out, you set it atop the counter. It was tough but you managed to resist the urge to swipe some of the frosting, though your subconscious was quite persistent.

You ducked down behind the counter as you grabbed a box for the cake, setting it inside. “You ever get tired of this?” You glanced up from your cake to spot the familiar blue and red boy in the bakery doorway.

“Do you?” You retorted as you shut the cake box, the Spider heading over. “Maybe if you let me go this one time, I’ll stop. Never know.”

He ignored you offer, probably knowing full well that you weren’t going to be that easy. “Nice cake,” he said instead while you moved the cake aside and stared at him across the counter.

The eyes of his mask seemed to squint at you before you lunged over the counter. He flipped backward, landing on all fours as you darted past him into the street. You made a mad dash down the desolate street, knowing full well he was probably swinging from the flickering light posts after you.

You spun around just in time to cause the light bulb of the post he was on to fritz out, making a loud popping noise. You thought you heard him shriek for a second as he jumped down onto the ground.

But you weren’t going to stay around to find out as you rounded the corner. You intended to round the block, duck back into the bakery, and snatch the cake before returning to the safety of your apartment.

The Spider was back a ways now, giving you just enough of a head start. You cut into the nearest alley, squeezing through the familiar hole in the fence as you ran back to the bakery.

You scooped up your cake box into your arms as you dashed out, only to cause the all too expected pest to jump from the roof and land in front of you. “I think it’s time for your just desserts,” he quipped as you just scoffed.

“Was that a pun, Spiderboy?” you asked before the webbing flew from his wrist and wrapped around your cake box. He pulled it from your hands into his own, before assuming his tactic from before of using the light posts. “I stole that fair and square,” you spat as you dashed after him, concentrating hard.

Luckily your powers were on your side as you created a dark sphere, that pushed the cake box from his grasp. You crashed onto your stomach as you reached out, both literally and with your powers for the cake box.

The cake box was cushioned by its fall into the shadows, you quickly dashing over to take it and run. All you had to do was get back home and then you were safe.

So, you ran and ran. The night covered you for as much as it could before you eagerly climbed the fire escape into your room. You didn’t know if the Spider was still following you but you didn’t have the energy to care. Aside from setting the cake onto your dresser, the last thing you remember was falling into a deep sleep on your bedroom floor.

————————

“Cordelia,” you sang as you lit the candles on the cake, your sister begrudgingly letting you. She swore she hated any acknowledgment of her birthday but you were living with her and she loved you and kept you alive so you were going to acknowledge it very much so. “I won’t sing because I know you’ll probably stab me, but blow out the candles!”

Cordelia rolled her eyes but leant forward, knocking the flames out with one good blow. You clapped happily as you let Cordelia slice the cake. She wasn’t one to object to cake or presents, she just didn’t enjoy being the center of attention. Though it was hard not to make someone the center of attention when there were only two of you.

You slid a small gift wrapped box across the counter with a smug grin as Cordelia rose an eyebrow. “If this isn’t a million dollars in cash, I’ll be very disappointed,” she confessed as you waved her off.

You reached a hand into the bag of gummy worms that you had also gifted Cordelia just when you heard the bell ring. You decided to ignore it just momentarily in order to witness Cordelia open her gift.

“Now this is actually beautiful,” Cordelia exhaled, taking out the necklace with a rhinestone heart. “Looks like you do have good taste after all, Y/N,”

You gave her a glare as you headed toward the door as the bell rung a second time. Pulling open the door, you were met with the face of your classmate, Peter Parker. You had completely forgotten that he was coming over to work on a project with you today. Why’d you even invite him over on your sister’s birthday?

You mentally scowled at yourself but gave Peter a smile. “Hey! We’re just finishing a little celebration-“

“Not a celebration!” Cordelia called out, making you roll your eyes.

“For my sister’s birthday. But you can come in and then we can get to work, yeah?” Peter nodded, adjusting the bookbag on his shoulder as you stepped aside to let him in.

You shut the door behind as your sister gave you a quizzical look, clearly wondering about the boy now in your apartment. “Oh yeah! Peter, this is Cordelia, sister. Cordelia, this is Peter, a friend from class,”

“Hi, it’s, uh, nice to meet you,” Peter greeted her as he gave her a shy wave.

“Slice of cake?” Cordelia offered as extended a plate out to Peter. Peter surely wasn’t going to turn down the slice as he took it from her and you moved to get your own.

“Did you make this?” He questioned you as you got a fork for him and yourself.

“Baking skills don’t really run in the Y/L/N family I’m afraid,” you joked, though it was all too true. Peter chuckled lightly too, eyeing the design of the cake. “Come on,” you instructed as you grabbed one more gummy worm and headed into your room with Peter following.

You two settled onto the floor in your room as you grabbed your bag. “What’s this for again?”

Peter attempted to answer you, but his mouth was full of cake so you just waved him off. As you searched your bag, Peter glanced around the room. His eyes landed on the familiar jacket you wore out at night. “Is...that yours?” He asked, his voice seemingly growing nervous.

You glanced up to spot the jacket on your chair. “I assume so, considering it’s in my room,” Peter chuckled lightly but something seemed off. “You okay, Parker?”

“Me? Oh yeah, definitely. I’m fine, completely fine,” he reassured, but you were quite positive something was off. Peter then turned his attention toward your window.

“I’ve got a great view,” you revealed, which was a clear joke. You certainly didn’t have much of a view besides the neighboring apartment building and the fire escape.

“You know what, I have to go!” Peter exclaimed suddenly, scrambling for his things. “Just remembered, my Aunt’s gonna be home soon and I, uh, wanted to...be there...before she...I have to go!”

Something was definitely wrong and you weren’t going to just let Peter go before you knew what. You jumped to your feet, standing in front of your bedroom door you stared him down. “You’re hiding something,” you decided, poking him in the chest.

“Me? Hiding something?” Gosh, he sounded like some cheesy comic book character. Though you had to admit, he was cute all flustered.

“You’re acting very weird,” you explained as you tried to figure it out yourself. He saw the cake and got suspicious, your jacket and got worried, and then saw your window and wanted to leave. You furrowed your eyebrows as you stared back at him. You took a step closer as Peter instinctively took a step back.

And so you stepped closer, and closer until Peter tumbled back onto your carpet after tripping over your backpack.

You looked down at him before deciding to try something. The worst that could happen was that he freaked more and ran off, which he was going to do anything. So, you stepped backwards some until you were able to reach the light switch.

You flicked the switch, the light in your room fading away. The only light now was the moonlight through your bedroom window. You stood before Peter now, your hand extended to your side. You closed your eyes for a moment as you caused a small sphere of shadow to appear in your palm.

You looked toward the Parker boy as you saw not fear nor even surprise in his eyes but a sense of confirmation like his suspicions were right. And for you, that’s when it clicked.

“It’s you,” you both gasped in unison as Peter scrambled to his feet and your hands fell down at your sides.

Peter Parker was Spider-Man? You didn’t know whether or not you bought it, but he did seem like the type.

“Does this mean you’re going to flirt with me now?” you asked, completely serious as you crossed your arms over your chest. Peter gasped at you, clearly not expecting such a response. “I mean, you flirted with me when I was out there so,”

“I was not!” Peter quickly defended himself but you just rolled your eyes. “You flirted with me!”

You gasped loudly, throwing a hand to your chest. Hell, you didn’t even know if you knew how to flirt let alone if you had the courage to do so. “I most certainly was not! I was merely a victim of bad puns!”

“That was one time!”

“I’m sure it was,” you countered as you both now stood before each other, without anything else to say. “...are you still going to leave? Because we do have a project to finish,”

“Are you going to hit me with darkness?”

“Darkness,” you chuckled, unsure if that was even what your power really was. “Not unless you try to steal the cake in the kitchen,”

“You tried to steal, I tried to return it,”

“Touché,”

And with that, the both of you sat down on the floor and resumed your work. Of course, now both of you were scarily aware of just what the other did in their free time. And for some reason all it did was more you look at the Parker boy in a new light.

A light in which you found yourself wanting to be in as well.

Hello, may I ask for a ship Xmen or Avengers (if you cant think of 1 for Xmen, I hope it's fine to send in a link for the info) please and thank you. I hope the length is fine (sorry if its long, it's easier for me to write it detailed & shorten if need be, then vice versa), if not, let me know and I don’t mind shortening it. Here is the link to the tumble blog , I hope it works. Here it is, shortships(.) tumblr(.) (com) (without the parentheses). Also, I don’t mind being patient and waiting.

Hi! I ship you with Professor Charles Xavier and I think you’d be best friends with Peter Parker.

Charles Xavier would be captivated by your complex personality and compassion for others. He’d be incredibly understanding of your sensitivity and needs due to his abilities and would be able to act accordingly. You both are compassionate, caring, supportive, and loyal people who adore reading and learning. These similarities would be a fantastic foundation for a relationship to be built on. Charles would do his best to ensure that you understand that he is there for you and that you’re safe. He’d love to try the foods you create and would be delighted by your love of reading. Since he knows you enjoy reading and cooking, he’d probably gift you cookbooks frequently. You two would most likely start up a book club to help share your love of reading. Also, Charles would love to hear you sing and would adore your photography. He’d encourage you to pursue these hobbies further and would most likely hang your photographs up everywhere he can (with your permission of course). You would be very helpful for strategizing for missions due to your ability to detect loopholes and Charles and the others would be extremely grateful for your assistance. Charles would do his best to put you at ease whenever public speaking is necessary or when you must go through a large crowd. If you had a panic attack, Charles would be able to calm you down very quickly. On quiet days, the two of you would often be found cuddling together underneath a pile of fluffy blankets. You would be super supportive and understanding of him on his gloomy days where he finds the world’s thoughts and feelings overwhelming and would know how to act when that’s going on since you are familiar with how loud the world can be due to your sensitive and highly empathetic nature. You’d both probably get married to each other one day and have or adopt some children. Overall, I just feel like you and Charles would be a good fit.

Peter Parker would be your best friend because he understands what it’s like to face insecurities and guilt. You two also share a kind, caring, loyal, perfectionistic, sensitive, and witty attitude. Peter and you would discuss technology, photography, video games, and books together. You and Peter would also watch films (except for horror) and anime together. The two of you would go places together with the sole purpose of photographing everything you see. He’d probably get you to help him fix up a gaming console he found in the dumpster so that you two could play games together. He’d enjoy eating your food creations and would like hearing your singing. The two of you would often be found in his room playing a game or assembling a jigsaw puzzle while being wrapped in a huge fluffy blanket with a mug of tea. When your mental illnesses rear their heads, Peter would be supportive and understanding. He’d ask what he can do to help and respond accordingly. He’d try to show you how much you mean to him and would be there for you to the best of his abilities. If you ever found yourself in a situation involving heights, Peter would reassure you that he won’t let anything happen to you and that you’re safe with him. When Peter needs advice, he’d probably come to you due to your shared perfectionistic and caring attitude. You and Peter would make great buddies due to your similarities.

**Also, sorry for the delay in getting this up for you! Life got really crazy and then I got sick for a bit. Also, you sound like a really lovely person! Sorry to hear you’ve had a rough go at it. ❤️

I’m reblogging this because I just edited it and added a few more pieces of information to update it for the film that’s out now.

Dating Peter Parker Would Include:

- You two meeting at school. - He was a bit of a shy butterfly when you first met him, but he quickly loosened up when he noticed your Star Wars tee and you smiled at him. - He’s super romantic and will just randomly bring you flowers. - You two often observe the night sky together on rooftops because why not. - Marathoning Star Wars together. - Discussing the Star Wars films and which is your favorite. - Helping each other study for quizzes and tests. - He tutors you on science and maths. - You tutor him on English and history. - You two are constantly talking. Be it in person, by call, FaceTime, Skype, or text. - Both being awkward yet cute. - You learning more about technology from him. - You not putting up with any lone wolf crap from him. - Knowing that he’s Spiderman before he tells you because you recognized how they move and talk similarly. - A lot of cuddles, cheek and forehead kisses, holding hands… Cute stuff. - He blushes a lot and you flirt with him very often just to cause it. - Aunt May adoring you. - Tony adoring you. - Being BFFs with Ned. - Being a part of the Midtown High School Science Team. - Mitigating Flash and his interactions with Peter. - You go directly to Peter’s after school and hang out there most of the time on weekends too. You practically live there. - “I love you” is said in pretty much every other sentence. - You two nerding out together. - You help tend to Peter’s wounds so he doesn’t scare the stuffing out of Aunt May. - You help come up with excuses for him whenever he is late to an event or if he shows up with an injury. - You pretty much are what keeps him grounded and focused on normal life.

DISCLAIMER- As usual, I do not own any of the characters mentioned and you are you. Please don’t sue me.

Dating Peter Parker Would Include:

- You two meeting at school. - He was a bit of a shy butterfly when you first met him, but he quickly loosened up when he noticed your Star Wars tee and you smiled at him. - He’s super romantic and will just randomly bring you flowers. - You two often observe the night sky together on rooftops because why not. - Marathoning Star Wars together. - Discussing the Star Wars films and which is your favorite. - Helping each other study for quizzes and tests. - He tutors you on science and maths. - You tutor him on English and history. - You two are constantly talking. Be it in person, by call, FaceTime, Skype, or text. - Both being awkward yet cute. - You learning more about technology from him. - You not putting up with any lone wolf crap from him. - Knowing that he’s Spiderman before he tells you because you recognized how they move and talk similarly. - A lot of cuddles, cheek and forehead kisses, holding hands… Cute stuff. - He blushes a lot and you flirt with him very often just to cause it. - Aunt May adoring you. - Tony adoring you. - Being BFFs with Ned. - Being a part of the Midtown High School Science Team. - Mitigating Flash and his interactions with Peter. - You go directly to Peter’s after school and hang out there most of the time on weekends too. You practically live there. - “I love you” is said in pretty much every other sentence. - You two nerding out together. - You help tend to Peter’s wounds so he doesn’t scare the stuffing out of Aunt May. - You help come up with excuses for him whenever he is late to an event or if he shows up with an injury. - You pretty much are what keeps him grounded and focused on normal life.

DISCLAIMER- As usual, I do not own any of the characters mentioned and you are you. Please don’t sue me.

Yeah, This Happened

IMAGINE: In this alternate universe, Avengers tower gains another superhero resident. Your first interaction with the teen arachnid doesn’t go great, but as time goes on, you find that he’s growing on you. An idea your dad doesn’t exactly agree with.  WORD COUNT: 2.7k  WARNINGS: Over protective Tony

"Y/N, how many times do I have to tell you to come down here?" You heard your father ask. Rolling your eyes, you make emerge from the kitchen.

"Mr. Stark, Miss Y/N has been on this level for quite some time now," JARVIS commented.

"Yeah dad," you add, pretending to pout. "You didn't see me come out ten minutes ago?"

You see your father grow red before shaking his head. "Shut up Y/N," he chuckled. Getting over his embarrassment, he pulled you into a side hug. "I wanted you to be the first to know-"

"Know what?" You quickly interrupt.

You had gained lots of Tony Stark's traits. Impatience was one of them.

"If you'll be quiet, I'll tell you," your dad continued, leading you to the window. Reaching the glass, he carried on. "We're going to have a special guest over."

A snort escapes you.

"More special than a 96-year-old super soldier. Or more special than a Norse god who likes pop tarts?"

Tony gently smacks the back of your head. "No, but he's just like us. Special." You groan, pushing him off of you.

Another guy? This was just getting stupid.

After Pepper left, it was just you, Natasha and Wanda around the Avengers Tower. Males around here had you at an advantage. Another dude was just going to ruin that.

"If he can keep out of my room, then I'll be okay."

A blur of red and blue shoots down from the ceiling. A gasp leaves your lips as a slim figure shoots out a thick rope-like cord. As it attaches from the hangars, the colored form made sure it was stable before quickly flipping upside down.

"What are you hiding in your room? Drugs? Alcohol? Secret Candy stash?" It asked curiously, it's tone full of playfulness.

As the cable gently swung the red and blue figure closer, you prepared to smack it in the face. Somehow sensing this, the masked thing caught your fist mid swing.

"You're a feisty one," it commented, laughing at your behavior.

As you go to cuss him out, Tony claps his hand on your shoulder, gently squeezing it as a warning. "Get down, Peter."

'Peter', hearing his name, groaned but complied to the demand. Flipping backward, he landed perfectly on both feet.

"Is that even legal, Mr. Stark?" He asked, crossing his arms. "You can't just reveal my secret identity! That's against the rules!"

"Hey stupid," you responded, interrupting your father. "I know more heroes than you'll ever meet. I'm sure you won't change that."

"Knock it off," Tony commanded, hiding his smirk. No matter how stern he tried to be, his 'cool dad' persona always won the best of him.

"Y/N won't tell anyone. But that's not what you should be worried about." Looking up, "Those webs better be gone next time I'm in this room. I didn't pay good money to have spider-butt silk hanging from my ceiling."

As he goes on to say more, his trusty phone rang. Exasperated, Tony picks it up.

"Great," he sighs. "Steve says he might have found Bruce." Glancing between you and Bug-Boy, he groans. "Y/N, do me a favor and show Peter around the Tower. I'll be back soon."

To clarify that was that, the billionaire walked out. Rolling your eyes, you turn to your guest. Noticing that he was covered head to toe, you cross your arms. "You can change. It would be a little weird of you to wear your suit 24/7,"

"But my identity..." Peter trailed off. It was obvious he was new at this superhero thing.

"You'll be fine. It's not like Iron Man is going to spill the beans... Again."

Offering more encouraging words, you finally convince him enough to remove the mask.

When the fabric is removed, you're surprised. Peter looked... Gentle. He seemed innocent. He couldn't have been much older than you, and you were only sixteen.

Was this guy a real superhero?

Blinking rapidly, you smile weakly. "Just follow me," you tell him, gesturing with your hands. "I'll show you your room."

"Sounds good," Peter replies, giving you a toothy grin. As he walks your way, something hits him. I mean really hits him.

You can't help but laugh as Peter peels off a duffel bag from his face. "I almost forgot about that," he stated, laughing as he did. "But then it hit me."

Shaking your head at his pun, you wave him over. "Let's go."

As you lead him to his assigned room, he can't help but strike up a conversation. "I never got your name," Peter noted, shouldering his bag. He looks away for a second to tuck away his mask, but quickly averts his attention to you.

"It's Y/N," you reply, brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "So, your name... Is it just Peter or are you too cool for that?"

"Parker. It's Parker." He states proudly. "What about you? It can't just be Y/N, no matter how pretty of a name it is."

Pretty? He thought your name was pretty?

A blush covers your cheek as you approach Peter's door. "It's Stark." The teen freezes as he stares at you.

Great, now he was going to think you were just another snobby little rich kid.

He eyes you up and down before cocking his head. "But... You look so different from Mr. Stark. He's... Well, him. And you're just... Really pretty." Your blush worsens as you look down.

"He's not my biological dad," you explain quietly. You fiddle with the hem of your shirt. “He adopted me a few months after I was born. I took his name and that was that."

It's quiet.

"I think that was really cool of him," you hear Peter comment. Looking up, you see the teen looking at you with a knowing look. "I know how it feels. Being raised by people who aren't your actual parents. But sometimes, it's all for the best."

Softly smiling, you nod. "I couldn't have said it better." The two of you smile at each other before you remember what you were supposed to be doing.

"This is your room," you abruptly state, shaking your head. Carefully opening the door, you motion to him to walk in. Once he does, you follow suit.

"You've got a standard double bed," you point out. "Over there, you have a closet. There's a compartment where you can store your suit." As Peter looks, you open another door.

"This is your personal bathroom. It's your job to keep it in clean. The shower is seven feet by ten, so it’s comfortable. The toilet is... Well, it's a toilet."

Explaining a few more things, you find nothing to talk about. "I guess that's it," you admit. The window catches your eye and you jump up.

"How could I forget about the view!" You exclaim, rushing to the glass. Peter quickly drops his bag before walking over. Pushing away the bland curtains, you show him the scenery.

"This is one of the best rooms. You always have a perfect view of the sunset and the moon looks so bright. You'll love it."

You don't see Peter looking at you. You're oblivious to the way he stares.

"I already do," he whispered.

A few minutes later, you go to leave. Peter had been at your heels until you stop him. "Aren't you going to change?" You ask him curiously. The guy was still in his suit.

"Oh!" He cried, looking down at his attire. "Almost forgot. I'll be out soon."

As he turns around, you quickly catch his attention. "I have to ask," you admit, "but what are you supposed to be? Bug-Boy?"

Peter turns around and grins.

"I call myself Spider-Man."

-

You and Peter got along well. Maybe it was the age similarity? Or your mutual love for comic books? Whatever it was, you were glad for it.

"Did you grab the popcorn?" Peter shouted at you. Clutching the bowl of popped corn, you hurry to the large living room.

How could I forget action flicks?

A couple weeks after Peter had settled in, he suggested having a movie night. You quickly agreed and assigned a random night. Saturday was quickly renamed 'Movie Day'.

Peter quickly grabbed the remote, using his special webbing as you prepared to sit down. "You almost crushed the remote," he complained, holding it close to him.

"I'm going to crush you if you don't stop with the damn webbing," you told him. "You never get all of it and it leaves a nasty mess. It's weird to touch it."

"It's a part of me Y/N," Peter complained. "You can't diss it."

Rolling your eyes, you lean into the couch. Tossing a few popped kernels in your mouth, you laugh. "I should be glad it doesn't come out of your butt. 'Cause that would be a horror movie right there."

Peter laughs as he grabs a handful of popcorn and throws it at your face. He can't help but make a face.

"You love me," Peter chuckled.

Hiding your rosy cheeks, you snort. "Sad thing is, I'd love you even if you shot spider silk out of your butthole."

Amused by your comment, Peter pulled you in closer. "JARVIS, can you dim the lights?" He asked politely.

"With pleasure, sir," the A1 replied, following the command.

Taking the remote from the undercover superhero, you quickly put on the movie. Tonight, it was an action/comedy. One of your favorites, actually.

"We're watching (Favorite Movie)?" You ask Peter. He knew how much you loved it.

"I think it's a good movie," He blubed, thankful that the lights were low. Now you couldn't see his tomato-like face.

Taking his word, the two of you watch the movie in content. After the credits roll up, you yawn.

"That was a great movie," you tell Peter. You found it interesting he never let you go throughout the film.

"It was," he agreed, staring at you. This time, you were aware of his burning stare.

"What are you looking at dork?" You ask him. His dark brown eyes never left your E/C ones as he leaned forward.

"You."

Your breaths mingle as you too lean forward. Just as you're about to meet, the lights suddenly turn on.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?" Tony demanded.

One hand hovered over the light switch while the other reached into his pocket. He pulled it out to reveal a gauntlet he had been tinkering with. Letting it pulsate, he motioned for the two of you to separate. Both you and Peter are hesitant, but do so, anyway.

Sliding his sunglasses to the bottom of his nose, your father turned to Peter.

"So Parker," Tony said calmly. His glove crackled as he flexed his fingers. "What were you planning on doing?" As the teen stutters, your dad raised his hand, silencing him. "'Cause it looked like you were just about to swap saliva with my kid. Care to explain?"

"It was my fault dad!" You quickly blurt. "I was encouraging him and-"

"Y/N," your father interrupted. "Don't you dare try to defend him. I know how guys think; I AM A GUY!" His face becomes a dark purple as he continues to scream.

"DO YOU REALLY THINK I AM GOING TO FALL FOR THE CLASSIC IT WASN'T HIS FAULT?!"

Taking a deep breath, Tony seemed to calm down.

"What do you intend on doing with my child, Parker?" He asked slowly, letting the repulsor's light glitch.

You knew what he was trying to do. You've seen your father do the same imitation technique on other people before. He'd bring out a piece of the suit, show off its abilities and use it to intimidate his guests. With his glove, he would scare Peter by threatening to use it on him.

"D-Date them, sir..." Peter mumbled, keeping his eyes locked with Tony's. He ignored your shocked gasp as he locked his jaw.

"And what would you do if you dated them?" Your father asked, rolling his wrist.

"Make sure they were happy, sir," the teen replied. "I'd do anything to keep them happy."

"And what would that include?" Tony questioned further. "Please enlighten me on that." You watch him raise a dark brow.

Peter finally tears his eyes away from your dad and swallowing harshly. Deciding, he looks at him once more.

"If Y/N would take me, and found that they were unhappy, I would strip myself of Spider-Man and devote my time to them. If they found themselves no longer interested in me, I would leave, no matter how much it broke my heart."

If looks could kill, Peter would be six feet under.

"I don't believe you. No one in their right mind would give up something as great as power as this."

You saw the teen clench his jaw as he looked towards your dad. You could almost see the pain emitting from him as he replied.

"A good, no- Amazing man once told me that with great power comes great responsibility. Power means nothing to me if I am not worthy of it."

You see Tony's harsh gaze soften as he continues to scrutinize Peter. Rolling his eyes, he lowered his hand. "Fine, I'll allow this," he grumbled.

As he walks away, your father looks back once more. "Hey Pete," he called. "You mess up, and I'll tell your Aunt May what you really do in your free time."

When your father leaves, for good this time, you turn to Peter. "That was really... Stupid," you admit, leaning towards him again. "But, I'm glad you did that."

"I am stupid," the brunette replied, also leaning in. "But I'd fight for anything that I know is right."

"Oh? So I'm the right choice?" You ask coyly.

"I don't know. Why don't you show me?" The two of you are so close. Just a little more.

Something whistles over your heads, causing the two of you to look up. An Iron Man helmet hovers in the air, its eyes glowing fiercely.

"Dad," you whine.

"Hey, I said I'd allow the two of you staying in the same room together. I didn't permit any kissing." The helmet shook again as it leaned closer. "This is the only way I can watch you two without invading your privacy is this. SO SUCK IT UP!"

This dad was no longer laid-back; he had to fight off guys with a metal bat. A bat that was wielded by him in his suit.

"Can we at least cuddle, sir?" Peter asked.

The left 'eye' of the mask flickered uncontrollably as it zooms over to Peter's face. "Just cuddling?" Tony demanded.

If he were here in person, spit would be flying.

"Yes, sir. No inappropriate touching. Just talking and hugging."

"Is that even okay?" You heard your father whisper. He must have thought he had turned off his microphone. "Why didn't I pick up that parenting book when Y/N was a kid? This would be so much easier..."

Hearing him fight with himself more, your father finally cleared his throat. "I'll permit that too."

Happy, you and Peter sit closer. Grabbing a spare blanket, the teen generously covers you before taking you in his arms. Feeling comfortable, you relax into his hold until a certain noise catches your attention.

Looking over, you see the mask only a few inches away from your face. What really surprises you is the extra ten staring down Peter.

"That's a little too much, don't you think?" You tell one mask.

"You can never be too careful," Tony replied, his voice multiplied by the speakers.

This is one of my favorites so far❤️🥺

Overprotective Tobey!Spidey Headcanons

Request: can you maybe do overprotective headcanons for tobeys peter ???

Of course, I’m so happy to see so many Tobey requests!

Also I’m back!!! Happy new year everyone!! <3

(I do not own Spider-Man or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @wiha-jun.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Oooh okay so Tobey!Peter, we already know that he’s the sweetest boy. The two of you have been sweethearts since High School, spending all day together. The two of you used to sit with your heads knocked together on the school bus, Peter’s fingers trembling as they brushed over yours, turning the page of the newest Science journal. Or partnered up together in lessons, where Peter spends the whole hour with his head resting on his palm with that fond, faraway look in his eyes as he watches you. He constantly gets told off for allowing the beaker to explode, though, and he apologises to you profusely when you have to stay behind during lunch and wipe the goo of the tables. You just start laughing, and in the end he joins in with his own nervous giggles as you walk over and rest your forehead on his shoulder.

And he swears he can feel his heart explode. He stills, trying not to jostle you, but he fears you can tell how he can barely breathe. He awkwardly wraps an arm around your waist, thumb sort of hovering over your shirt in fear that he’s stepping too far. And it’s the most magical feeling he’s ever had, that ecstatic bliss that burns through his chest and sets every nerve of his being on fire. 

Keep reading

all the bright places → p.p

SUMMARY: in which you have a dilemma, and suddenly come face to face with the city’s superhero on the ledge of the bell tower at school.

WARNINGS: passing out, suicide attempt, female reader, unedited.

You’d think you had gotten used to it by now–the blanking out, the waking up. Even as it happened, whenever you reopened your eyes, you felt a little bit more numb every time. Yet, as it continued on, you soon realized that this was the worst one by far. You can’t really tell what was different this time around, only that when you woke, you didn’t actually feel awake. It felt as if you were almost stuck in a dream– or maybe a weird stage that had you caught in between being awake and asleep. It was as if you were empty, like someone had sucked all the blood out of your measly veins. You were alive, yes, but empty.

Closing your eyes, you feel the rusted ironwork curve beneath your fingertips. You don’t exactly remember how you got up here, though you don’t find it surprising, as your arrival here had followed your anemic episode. But here you are, standing six stories above ground, a thin barrier only between you and that narrow ledge. You’re practically a part of the sky, and as you listen to the bustle from the pavement below, you can practically feel the world tip. Everything spins, and you almost feel the wind float you away, drifting you off until there’s nothing.

Another gale rocks you, and it’s when you open your eyes that you realize you’re on the other side of the iron workings of the rail, standing shoeless on the concrete sill in your sheer mustard tights. The laces of your boots are clenched tightly between your quivering fingers, swaying slightly against the gusting breeze.

It’s probably over the whirlwind and oncoming drizzling of rain that you don’t hear the door open to the bell tower of the high school. He’s halfway, running silently, almost to the end and up in the sky when he notices you’re there. You stand a few feet away on the opposite side, hair waving in the breeze and skirt blown up like a parachute. Suddenly, the mask in his clutches is forgotten, and he takes a careful step towards you.

You’re one of the last people he’d suspect to see up here, six stories up on a bell tower and inches away from a ghastly death. You’re popular– a cheerleader even, someone expected to go out with Flash Thompson or sit at lunch with Lizzie Allen. And behind those clunky glasses that you insisted to wear all the time, though he knew they were utterly useless, you were pretty, like a china doll almost. And yet despite these attributes, you still somehow made time for the boy that was unknowingly behind you, staring you down as if he could freeze time itself.

“The worst thing you could do is look down.” The whisper that disposes from his lips is so silent that he’s almost certain you didn’t hear it, but it carries in the wind, and your fingers tighten immediately around the fencing. You didn’t have to turn around to confirm who it was speaking to you.

“It’s starting to rain,” he says, as if you don’t already know this. And yet, as his words are processed in your mind, you abruptly become aware of the water seeping into your cardigan, pooling around your bare meshed feet. You’re shivering, or shaking, the boy behind you can’t tell which one, and so he slowly inches himself towards you more, hoping his movements don’t frighten you and cause you to fall.

“Peter…” his name falls off your tongue, and he suddenly realizes his mistake. His mask remains in his hand, and he pulls it halfway over his forehead, mirroring that of a beanie. It’d be useless now in your presence.

When you don’t say anything else, he goes on inching forward, calling your name out in a hopeless reply.

From down below, someone yells, “Y/N? Is that Y/N up there?”

“Oh God,” you whisper, so low he barely hears it. You turn towards him, eyes widening and almost losing your balance when you realize who had been behind you the entirety of those few minutes. “OhGodohGodohGodohGodohGod.”

The wind blows your hair and skirt, and it feels like the slightest movement could have you fly away.

There is a general buzzing from the ground, and you don’t know if it’s from your current position or the fact that the superhero clad in red stood a mere few feet away from you. But it wasn’t that fact that had your heart in a race with the buzzing in your ears, but rather who had been behind the mask the whole time.

You attempt to straighten yourself, but your rain soiled feet betray your movements and suddenly you’re slipping, grasping back at the railing. Peter moves quickly, and his webbing encompasses your hand, trapping you to the safety of the rusting iron. You glare at the leather boots that fell from your grasp, landing on the other side of the fence with a couple of thumps.

“Here’s what I think you should do—”

“Peter.” It’s a whisper, and he can’t help but stare at you in desperation to get you out of your current situation. “Your mask.”

He stares at you in bafflement for a moment, one eyebrow arched before he scrambles, pulling the material to completely cover his face. All traces of Peter Parker suddenly disappeared.

“Y/N, listen to me; here’s what I want you to do.” The boy takes a slight step forward, as if he is the one on the ledge and not you before him. His hands are held out in front of him, a silent plead for you to stand still. Peter doesn’t know why, but at this very instant, he doesn’t trust his own instincts. If every New Yorker had traded spots with you now, he probably wouldn’t feel the utter fear that engulfed his entire being. But when it comes to you, his best friend, all meticulously calculated plans that could be formulated in just a few moments fly out the window. He simply has no confidence in what he’s supposed to do.

“I want you to turn around completely– yes I know, one of your hands is stuck.” His throat feels clammy, and he doesn’t know if he should continue on with his plan or spring over the railing in an attempt to save your anxiety ridden state. He watches, completely still, as you slowly turn around, your body shaking with even the slightest movement. “And then grab onto the rail– just grab onto it. Once you’ve got it, lean against it and then lift your right foot up and over. Got that?”

You nod, and Peter suddenly realizes how pale you’ve gone, stricken with panic.

“Okay,” he breathes, “Whatever you do, don’t step the wrong way. I’ll count you off. On three.”

You grip the curved iron and kind of prop yourself against it.

“One. Two. Three.”

You lift your leg up and over the railing so you’re sitting on it. You stare down at the ground, and you’re frozen once again.

Peter says, “Good. Great job. Now, just stop looking down.”

You slowly look at him and then reach for the floor of the bell tower with your right foot, and once you’ve found it, he speaks again, “Now get that left leg back however you can. Don’t let go of the wall.”

By now you’re shaking so hard you’re sure he can hear your teeth chatter. Cautiously, you lift your leg over the railing, stopping in a panic as your tights snag onto one of the sharp grooves. Peter takes a brisk step towards you, watching your moment of alarm. Jerking your leg forward, your tights tear free, giving yourself enough momentum to rip the webbings’ hold of your hand. You hurl across the puddled concrete and into open arms.

For a minute you can almost feel it, with his hands gripping your shoulders and your fingers latched tightly around his biceps. The sense of peace as your mind goes quiet, like you’re already dead. You are weightless and free. Nothing and no one to fear, not even yourself.

And despite the tight crinkle around your closed eyelids, the image is so clear and vivid. You can almost see the ground itself, six stories below, slick and damp, your body lying there.

“You alright?” Peters voice is quiet, soothing enough to have you open your eyes. He stares at you in silence, his mask once again pulled up and curling around his ears. There’s still a buzzing down below, and from the volume you’re almost certain it’s because of the boy before you.

You take a breath, it’s shaky, but it’s enough for him. He tightens his arms around you, bringing you into his chest as your fingers tug on the material of his suit. You want to cry, scream until you’ve gutted your throat raw and bang your fists on the ground until they’re cracked and bleeding. But you remain calm, unwavering of any emotion, and it frightens Peter down to the core.

“Thank you, Peter Parker.” It’s a whisper, but still there.  You reach up and kiss him on the cheek, and he catches the scent of your shampoo, and it smells of flowers.

He curls his fingers into your back. “Let’s get you home, okay?”

“Okay.”

i would’ve stayed for you → t.h

SUMMARY: au! where everyone is born with a small tattoo, and whenever you fall in love with someone, their tattoo appears on your body. tom, who drifted apart from you once his acting career took off, falters during an interview, and its announced that he’s attained someone else’s tattoo. it’s not until tom spontaneously shows up at your doorstep and apologizes profusely that you realized it’s your tattoo that had inked itself onto his skin.

WARNINGS: language. fluff. you strip your shirt off lol. angst (?)

The morning was going by slow, exhaustingly slow. You could say that much. The coffee machine was broken at your workplace and the lack of noise in the office was driving you insane, encouraging the bags under your sleep deprived eyes to induce them to close even just for a few moments. You couldn’t recall the last time you had a decent amount of sleep. Now, your nights were filled with paperwork and news articles that you worked your ass off to write, only to be rejected each time you attempted to present a new idea to your boss. At least there was the ac that froze up the entire office building, your khaki sweater doing nothing to appeal the freezing temperature.

A pair of hands suddenly slapped down onto your desk, making you jump from your chair and bite down on your tongue to hold a spew of words you’d rather not have your boss overhear. A giggle was what brought you to look up at the face of the person that nearly scared you half to death, and a bubble of annoyance manifested on your features as your assistant smiled giddily down at you.

“Yes?”

She leaned down over your desk, whispering excitedly in your ear, “There’s an interview right now.”

Your brows furrowed.

“I don’t get it,” you said flatly.

She sighs loudly, dramatically emphasizing her point of you having no clue what the hell she was talking about.

“Tom Holland,” she drew out, “is doing an interview next door. Like, at this very second.”

The name made you freeze, and you leaned down to pick up the pen that had rolled off your desk to try and dampen the nervousness that itched at your palms.

You nearly choked out the next words, exerting a cough that resembled your discomfort. “This is important, why?”

She gave you a wicked smile, one that was as if she was about to tell you a secret nobody around the globe could know. As if she had done something so unbelievably, she’d want the entire globe to know. “Rumor has it he earned a new tattoo.”

With her words, you subconsciously rubbed the bandaid on your left bicep, covering the markings that ultimately decided your fate. You felt it was stupid, the whole someone falls in love with you and attains your tattoo forever thing. At least, that was your point of view about it. It was just that you found it unfair that something so minuscule could determine what relationships changed for the better or for the worst. And for forever? Wouldn’t it just be better if they’d disappear after your feelings dissipated for that person? You, however, couldn’t fathom the thought of having someone else’s ink punctuated into your skin, and it’s obvious due to the small alignment of swirls that were detailed on the right side of your ribcage. 

“Imagine it though!” She gushed. “Having Tom Holland with your tattoo!”

“I don’t have time for this right now-“

“Whoever it is sure is lucky-“

“Amya-“

“I mean, I couldn’t tell you what I’d do to get Tom Holland to have my tattoo.”

“Shouldn’t you be at the fax machine?”

Your drone of words immediately silenced her, and with a nod she left you back in your cubicle, tapping your pen against the polished wood of your desk in contemplation.

For the next few hours, the interview was all the buzz, and you avoided anyone who even thought about mentioning the topic. However, you didn’t know how long you could forestall it, as in 24 hours the interview would be released world wide, and the thought of what was once your childhood best friend falling in love with someone else really took a stab to your gut.

And yet the weight didn’t fall onto you completely until the work day was completed, your computer was shut down, and the rough draft of environmental damage was shoved into the pocket of your backpack. Outside was a madhouse, you realized. Cameras surrounded the building, numerous flashes going off all at once it made your vision blur. You attempted to push through though, muttering excuses left and right to those that trampled into you. Your gaze remained to the ground, not wanting to get involved until you heard someone shout your name through the crowd. Looking up, you saw him, standing by an open door of a yellow taxi cab, eyes pleading in a way that made you not want to look away. In three years, it was the first time you had seen him standing there face to face, just a mere ten feet away. He looked at you as if he wanted to yell your name again, scream obscene apologies at you for the months that he had distanced himself. You didn’t want to look away, you couldn’t, but with hesitance, you did, and the anxious cries of the paparazzi followed you as you rounded the corner of the street.

The next couple of days mirrored the last. Amya, your assistant, had demanded you watch the interview with her the second it had released. You declined, of course, muttering an excuse that it was your lunch break and that was not your ideal way of spending it. The interview, as you imagined, was everywhere. On television, in the trending section of YouTube, and even in the newspaper. Does Tom Holland have a girlfriend? Tom Holland secret lover? Who does the tattoo belong to? You personally thought it was absolutely ridiculous, there were more important events occurring around the world, and sooner or later this whole thing would blow off and it’d just be another celebrity occurrence that everyone would keep on referring to. As of the moment, it was seriously getting in the way of your article, and the enlightenment of exposing your research and opinions were quickly depleting. So you went back to your apartment early, dejected and exhausted, drowning in the hollowness of your present annoyance. There you attempted to type, pulling at your hair and groaning in anguish at the empty word document that seemed to stare menacingly at you. All inspiration was gone, and you sighed defeatedly, your moment of torment cut short by a rhythm of knocks on your front door.

You called for them to wait, brushing back your hair and fanning your flushed face. When you opened it, you stared right into the eyes of the person you had least expected to see. He stood there, unsure, lips upturned slightly in a smile that radiated vulnerability. Your jaw went slack, and all thoughts of your article drained to the back of your mind.

“Shit, uh, come in.”

Tom stepped over the threshold timidly, hands crossed behind his back.

“Do you want anything to drink?”

“No,” his voice cracked softly and he cleared his throat, eyes trailing around your apartment. He was either extremely fascinated with the bowl of fruit that sat atop your table, or he just wouldn’t look at you.

You leaned on your kitchen counter top. “So why are you here?”

For a split second you saw confusion flash on his face, and he cleared his throat once more. “Wha-What do you mean?”

You laughed, softly, cocking your head in interest. “Exactly what I just said. What are you doing here? Out of all places, out of all times.”

“I-I need to talk to you.”

“About?”

“Have you seen the interview yet?”

You sighed, almost wanting to laugh at the thought. “No.”

Tom let out a breath, his poster slacking as he seems to turn away from you. Almost in a whisper, you spoke, trailing your finger through the tiles on your kitchen island. “I don’t have to catch up with someone’s life when they won’t even bother to ask me how my day went.”

Tom’s head snaps up, stepping towards the island counter and resting his hands along the edge. You watched as his fingers tightly gripped the ridge.

“I’m sorry.”

“Tom-”

“I never meant to lose contact with you.”

“Then why did you?”

His posture softens, and you can’t help but lean forward, crossing your arms over themselves.

“I-I don’t know.” 

“There has to be a reason,” you pushed.

“I couldn’t bare the thought of you being mad at me, I guess.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but he quickly cut you off with another plea.

“I think I just thought that if I ignored the issue, it would go away.”

“It clearly didn’t,” you spoke flatly.

“I know but-”

“It clearly made it worse.”

“Yes, I know but-!”

“But what?”

Tom captured his bottom lip between his teeth. “I never wanted to lose you.”

“Tom-”

“You never called me once, when I left. You realize that, right?”

You froze. He was right.

“You know, I thought you just needed some time to cool off,” he continued, “I told myself I would give you a few weeks, a month at most, and then I would call you. Because I get it, I understand that leaving suddenly and then blowing our friendship off with a letter was a bad move, and I knew I could do better than that. But when I did, when I finally mustered up the confidence to call you, you had my number blocked and anything else that I could’ve contacted you on.”

You’re quiet for a few moments, sinking in the words. “I guess I just didn’t know how to react.”

“Neither of us did.”

He smiled at you, a toothless, sincere smile, and for a moment, you almost wanted to smile back.

“You could’ve talked to me, you know. I would’ve understood. I knew how important it was to you.”

“I was scared,” he admitted, “I didn’t know how you would take it. If you’d ask me to stay, or if you just wouldn’t care and let me go.”

“You know I wouldn’t do either of those things. I wouldn’t hold you back. I would’ve supported you, Tom, and I still do.”

He doesn’t reply, just runs a hand through his hair, his eyes crinkling at the corners just a bit.

“I’m pretty sure you didn’t come here to bitch and moan about missing me though,” you said.

“Who says I didn’t?” He countered, leaning forward to match a teasing posture.

“The interview.”

“Right.” His shoulders sink a little. “So you haven’t seen it?”

You shook your head.

“I-I don’t really know how to put this then.”

You leaned forward, encouraging him. He took a breath, as if preparing himself, and he spits out the words in a frenzy.

“Thetattooisyours.”

Your eyebrows crinkled, processing his words. It was like he packed them into a small ball and hurled them across the counter at you.

“What?”

Tom sighed. “You heard about the rumor? About me having another persons tattoo?”

You nodded.

“The tattoo. It’s yours.”

Your chest suddenly felt tight, and there’s a lump that managed to form itself in your throat, making you practically choke out your next words. You know you’re at a crossroads. On one hand, Tom left you. You’re still bitter and hurt and reeling at those few years without him. And yet, you can’t help but feel a wave of relief wash over you. He’s here now, and he’s pouring his heart out to you.

“I-I don’t know what to say.”

“I just need you to understand that this doesn’t have to change anything.” He paused. “Actually, it can, as I would like more than anything to have you back as my best friend.”

You nodded once again, trailing along the side of the counter until you were about three feet away from him.

“I want to see it.”

Tom bobbed his head, pulling up the sleeve of his shirt just by an inch, the trails of black ink becoming visible. You reached up and traced the delicate swirls that formed the shape of a small leaf, feeling him shiver under your caress.

“When?” You asked.

“When I left.” He replied.

You moved back a step, suddenly aware of your proximity. Reaching down to the bottom of your blouse, you begin to unbutton it, working your way up.

“I want to show you something.”

You could nearly hear Tom swallow as you exposed the skin of your chest, moving the fabric of your blouse back to expose the twists and lines that vaguely reflected the outline of the sun.

“That’s-That’s mine.”

He reached forward, unsure, gently running his thumb across the crests of the middle and to the lines that drove outwards.

“It appeared when you left,” you breathed. “I think you leaving was some kind of revelation for the both of us.”

You observed him. His reaction, the uneven tremble of his breaths, the way his pupils dilated when he looked at you. And unexpectedly, on an impulse, you cupped his chin, carefully bringing him down to you, melding your lips together.

Kissing him was like anything you could’ve ever expected and more. It was slow at first, tentative, unaccustomed to each other. Suddenly, your confidence grew, and your back was pressed against the counter. It felt so right, and you grinned against his mouth as his hands slid to your shoulders, warily peeling the shirt down your arms. 

Abruptly, he stopped, fingers brushing against the band aid.

“You hide it?” He asked softly. “Why?”

“I don’t exactly like the idea of a tattoo determining one’s relationship with others.” You confided. “I just feel like everything would be so much easier with out it.”

Tom gazed at you with hooded eyes, intertwining his fingers with your own as he rested his forehead against yours. You smiled shyly at him, closing your eyes as you whispered.

“But with you, I don’t want to be strangers anymore.” You paused, taking a breath. “In fact, I think I’d rather ditch the best friends thing.”

He smiled slyly at you, and all fearful thoughts of rejection were whisked away as he glided his lips over yours.

Without warning, you rolled your hips, and Tom faltered, his head falling into the crevice of your neck.

“For the record,” he shuddered, “if you had asked, I would’ve stayed for you.

besoothing burdens → p.p

SUMMARY: peter announces that he has to fly half way across the world out of the request of Tony Stark, and he comforts you in reassurance that he’ll be alright.

WARNINGS: short & sweet. i accidentally deleted the first post, go me.

It was a whisper, like a gentle breeze of calm wind. An elixir of soft sentiments that lingered with the warmth of his presence. The words, melded with this breath, met with your bare back, a shiver crawling up your spine that left a trail of goosebumps to arise in his wake.

“Y/N.” You felt the callous pads of his fingers gently tracing the soft skin on the nape of your neck, brushing your hair aside. His hands threaded between the wispy tendrils, crowned around your head as if they were to form a halo. Lips found their way to your chin, a fragile stamp that had you clenching your teeth to abstain from gasping aloud.

Peter hummed against your skin, knowing that you were awake. Nonetheless, his kiss remained, peppering down your neck and coalescing with your skin. His touch left you breathless, tinting your cheeks with a glowing affection.

“Y/N.” Bliss rolled from between his lips, husk and raw. Sweet, loving, and whispered it came. Like honey resonating from his tongue and sifting through every fiber of your body. It came again, pouring from the delicate kisses that were being lovingly pressed up the small of your back to the corners of your shoulder blades.

You turned your head, your temple resting on the pillow and hooking onto the warmth of the eyes peering from over your shoulder. His hair was fluffy, curly strands of nutmeg underscoring the ivory of his face. A somnolent smile pulled up the corners of your lips at the sight of him, your lashes drifting close when he assailed another kiss at the corner by your ear. He trailed off with dulcet sigh, intruding the silence.

“Y/N.” You snapped your irises open, solidifying the honey and swiveling your body at the urgency laced between his vowels. You lay back, ogling the boy hovering over your flushed body. His mouth went to open, ready to vocalize, yet you brought your hand up, gingerly placing your palm on his cheek, promptly barring him silent.

“It’s five a.m., do you realize that?”

Peter shook his head bashfully, captivating his bottom lip between his teeth, instinctively leaning into the amenity of your tender touch. You pushed yourself up from the linen to reach him, intertwining your other hand through the flat coils of his ruffled hair.

“No, I…” The boy paused, unsure of how to put his epiphany into the form of words. “I just had to see you.”

You beamed with vehemence, shifting and bringing his body down to lay beside yours. You leant your head amidst his chest, sighing affectionately when you felt his fingers brush against the underside of your jaw. The serenity of your euphoria filtered the room with a haze of golden warmth.

“Y/N?”

You hummed a response, enduring in the ardor of his being.

“I-I need to tell you something.”

“Mhm?”

You could feel him hesitating, his tongue rolling slack as he held the words before they fell prostrate onto you. As encouragement, you traced your hand over the ivory skin of his arm, pleasuring in the ripple as he shivered.

“I-I’m leaving.”

You sat up briskly, your eyes wide and doe-like as you peered down at him, lips parted with unfounded words. The slight furrow of your brows spurred him on, and he too straightened up. “What?”

“W-Well for Mr. Stark, I-I need to go.” You watched intently as he took in his bottom lip, the intensity in his eyes sparring with your own. “I have a chance, finally! It’s in Germany and-“

“Germany?” Your heart dropped, emitting a gasp as Peter persisted his ramble. You didn’t know what to say when his words had found their demise in the silence of your bedroom. Tears that had contrived in your worried eyes soon slipped down, and you had to take the wobbling of your bottom lip between your teeth. Peter noticed almost instantly, taking your hands in his and ever so gently brushing the pad of his thumb back and forth to ease their trembles.

“What are you thinking, Peter? To put yourself that head on in danger? You don’t even have a proper suit a-and you’re just going to run blindly into s-something because Mr. Stark wants you to?”

“Y/N,” he murmured, wiping your tears with his free hand. His palm cradled around the curve of your jaw, delicately placing a strand of hair behind your ear that had become captive in the stickiness of your cheeks. “Let me do this, okay? I... I have to do this. Nothing bad will happen to me. Mr. Stark won’t allow that.”

“Y-You don’t know that!” You spoke. It came as a whisper, yet frightened and laced with worry. “While you’re out there, you can’t guarantee your safety. Neither can Mr. Stark!”

His response was immediate, pulling you back down into his chest, muffling your despairs as you latched onto his torso. All you could let him do was guide his hand up the small of your back, massaging the skin in a voiceless endeavor of comforting your worries.

“You’ll come back to me in one piece, right?” Your words were whispered and innocent as your forefinger traced invisible patterns in the divot of his collarbone.

Peter was quiet for a moment, before besoothing your burdens. He reveled down at you, wrapping his arms around you so tightly that there was no room for anything else. No pain, no anguish, just love. And you marveled at the fact.

my ao3

━━━ ADEPTUS XIAO

my teeth in your heart

in liyue, there’s a fable that’s oft–repeated among the youth of qingce village. xiao knows this tale, he witnessed it firsthand, but who is he to tell it to? all he knows is that the memory is prevalent as the disembodied whispers of karmic debt that call his name.

00. an amputated soul

01. and here, i find you (coming soon!)

━━━ KAEDEHARA KAZUHA

with a silver tongue (coming soon!)

you’ve grown weary of the sea–salt tinge and flavors from the ships on the shore, and all you want to do is return to life on land. kazuha promises that there is more from the world, and you can’t decide if it’s the way his voice sounds or the words he speaks that pulls you in most. (nsfw)

━━━ PETER PARKER (no longer writing)

don’t you lose

you ultimately decide that peter’s life is worth saving over yours, and it takes a sacrifice that may destroy everything you ever knew and loved.

besoothing burdens

peter announces that he has to fly half way across the world out of the request of tony stark, and he comforts you in reassurance that he’ll be alright.

all the bright places

in which you have a dilemma, and suddenly come face to face with the city’s superhero on the ledge of the bell tower at school.

━━━ TOM HOLLAND (no longer writing)

sunshine smile

a certain feeling may be screwing up your friendship with a certain someone, but in one night, you realize that could all turn around.

i would’ve stayed for you

alternate universe in which everyone is born with a small tattoo, and when you fall in love with someone, their tattoo appears on your body.

sunshine smile → t.h

SUMMARY: in which you can’t fall asleep. bestfriends!au

WARNINGS: anxiety & fluff. written in third person rather than second.

She stared at the peeling paint of the ceiling in the darkness of her bedroom, the whirring of the fan quietly humming in her ears, creating a soft white noise. She’s burrowed down under a comforter and a blanket of silver light.

Besides from that, it was absolutely silent, causing a small bit of panic to arise from the young girl . Her doe-like irises widened, and flickered neurotically as she waited for the night to come to an end.

It was 1:42 am, the time in the morning where her mind began to run feral and out of control. One minute it's firm in her grasp, and the next it's sprinting away at a pace that made its meaning indecipherable and incoherent.

There it was, climbing her bookshelf. There it was, swinging from the drapes.

Sighing, she buried her face into her pillow, her felt sheets a tangle between her legs. A street lamp from outside slightly illuminated her room, casting long shadows behind her furniture and across her sanctuary. The bathroom light flickered.

Other than that, her room was pitch black, blanketed by the moons light, a soft tear in the black silk of the sky. The night grew older and the air grew colder. Still, she waited, yearning for that dark silence inside the bud of life, everything unknown.

"Tom?" she whispered, breaking the dead buzzing that hung about in the room.

There's a rustling noise, followed by a soft groan from the boy that slept on the floor. Y/N frowned, pulling her bottom lip in between her teeth. There were no more sounds, and it was several minutes before the girl decided to speak once again.

"Tom?" she inquired a bit more loudly. He shot up, pupils wide as the sleeping bag falls from his chest. She could hear his heavy breathing, suddenly feeling guilty for waking him up.

"Y/N?" he shifted towards her, head perked at the girl who sunk down into the mattress of her bedding. Her fingers were intertwined together as they laid upon her chest, moving slightly with each breath that seemed so hard to take. "What's wrong? Are you alright?"

The girl squinted her eyelids together, teeth still pressed down onto her lip. She laid still, waiting for the boy to lie back down again and fall asleep. But she knew that wouldn't happen. Hearing Tom stand up and the pitter-patter of his feet on the floorboards, sounding like the festering thunder in the annual spring showers.

Y/N felt the bed divot beside her, the boy sighing quietly as he rested his head on a soft cream pillow, the crescent of honey locks that graced his head spreading about, framing his face. The girl turned her head towards him, the moons light highlighting his cheekbones. He looked as if he were glowing.

"I know you're looking at me," the boy whispered after a while, eyes lids still fluttering slightly as they stared upwards.

She immediately felt a warmth spread across her face, grateful for the minimal light that hid her crimson flesh. Turning her head away, she let a small smirk crawl onto Tom’s face. He shifted his whole figure, lying upon his side, hipbones digging into the mattress of the bed. The moon dipped tresses sat amidst his forehead, sticking up every which way. From the corner of her eyes, Y/N still found herself absolutely entranced.

Being best friends with him had its perks, Sunday sleep overs, exclusive backstage action, and early morning cafe visits were the norm. But when she found herself growing feelings for him, she knew she had completely and utterly doomed herself.

"Why aren't you asleep?"

Y/N's heart palpitated as she noticed Tom reach towards her hand, interlacing their fingers.

"Can't." she mumbled, lips forming the vowels so quietly the boy beside her almost didn't hear it.

With a surge of sudden boldness, he grasped the girl's arm, pulling her close to him. Her head rested on his chest, both shocked by his action.

"Just close your eyes," Tom reassured, the calming words muffled by Y/N's hair. She nodded slightly, swallowing away the pit that started to form in her throat, constricting her from movement of any sort. It wasn't like Tom to be so intimate with her.

Yet she wasn’t complaining.

Unconsciously, she slipped her arm over his chest, the rise and fall of her own falling in sync with him. The only thing between them were a knot of cotton sheets and a barrier of friendship that had yet to be broken.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THIS DORK

don’t you lose → p.p

SUMMARY: you ultimately decide that peter’s life is worth saving over yours, and it takes a sacrifice that may destroy everything you ever knew and loved.

WARNINGS: death, angst. so. much. goddamn. angst. also this is my first post. lets see how this goes...

Everything had fallen into place so quickly, you hadn’t had the time to think about what you were even doing.

In fact, it was unusual. The sensation of it all. The careless throw as your body slammed down on the cemented sidewalk. The sounds of snapping bones followed by a blistering silence was all that you could make of upon the impact. In no way had you expected the feeling to encompass your entire body. Not the pain, but the burning numbness that paralyzed your limbs and made your sight turn foggy.

It all seem so stupid now. You knew the plan was in no other way but suicidal. You knew that pushing the boy to the side to take what was supposed to be his blow would end up with you injured in one way or another. And now, the twisted, jagged pieces of what used to be your combat staff protruded from your abdomen, peaking through the hindsight of your fading vision. You could feel the building pressure on your lungs, the bubbling air in your chest and dribbling blood from the corner of your lips with nowhere to go. The sharp taste of copper was prominent, layering your tongue and the back of your throat. It didn’t even have to take a genius to realize what the pouring liquid was from your lower torso.

You used to think, that in this moment, you’d feel a swell of pride overtake the agonizing pain. You used to think that you wouldn’t have minded when or how you died, as long as what you were doing benefited those in the future. But there was none of that. No triumph and no victorious battle cries. If you were completely honest, there was just one person that consumed your thoughts at this very moment, which you figured was rewarded by your ongoing selfishness. It was mostly just blind panic, coated with the stubbornness that you had carried your whole life through, sweetened by your act to keep the one you loved hanging on just a little bit longer. Despite the silence, the nauseating ringing that echoed in your head, you could still hear his gutting screams as you managed to push him to the side. You had stolen what was his, redirecting the blow from him onto yourself. It’s not like you minded, anyways, you were just focused on protecting him.

It wasn’t until you heard a shout of relief that you finally managed to realize you earned a sliver of your hearing back. You let yourself calm, watching as his face materialized above you, hoping you weren’t imagining the boys features as he kneeled next to your quivering body.

This lead you to smile. It had worked. He was alive.

A strange feeling of peace washed over you, grinning stained teeth as you breathed out his name.

“Peter...”

The blood that gurgled up from your throat made his name seem more of a choked sob than a relieved sigh. He leaned in closer, hands fluttering over your body as if he didn’t know where to place them. Lazily, you reached up your palm, letting him tightly grasp it and interlace your trembling fingers. You watched as his eyes took in your sight, pretending not to notice as they widened in pure horror.

“I used to hope I’d look decent for the last time you’d see me.”

It was a nonchalant joke, one that sparked a pain up your spine and threw you into a merciless coughing fit. Peter didn’t laugh. Instead, his lips twitched down as he watched a single tear of blood slip down your chin. The panic was highlighted in his eyes as he brought his face closer to your own.

“W-What are you talking about?” You could hear the sob that threatened to emit from his throat, noticing the extravagant amount of effort it took to keep his voice barely steady. “D-Don’t talk like that. You l-look great!”

He pretended to brush the situation aside, but you could see the real message behind his words, convincing himself that there was a chance you’d be able to survive this. Even you could tell that that was unlikely.

Peter was quick to accept the other palm that you had then extended in his direction, wrapping his fingers around your wrist and pulling you into his lap, sliding his other arm underneath to support your shoulders. Even that slight movement made you shudder, wrenching out a groan.

Peter began to apologize profusely, and yet you were able to silence him with the slightest upturn of your lips. You suddenly felt warmer, the churning in your stomach slowly dissipated, and your vision swam with the boys eyes that stared above you. This new angle somehow made it just a bit easier to catch your breath.

“I’m not sorry,” you heaved, finding it difficult to catch enough air to complete even the simplest of sentences. “Y-You’re safe, t-that’s all that-t matters.”

“Shh,” he coaxed, fingers tightening around your wrist even more so. “You’ll be fine. You’ll be okay. We’ll make it make to the Tower, and you’ll get better.”

You locked eyes onto his own, the fierceness behind those bloodshot irises almost made you want to believe in what he was saying.

Almost.

You sighed, shuddering breaths wracking your chest. “You k-know that is never going-g to h-happen...”

There just wasn’t enough time.

The panic that settled upon his face clutched at your heart. You did your best at a subtle smile, but the red bubbles that seeped through your teeth seemed to have the opposite effect of your attempt to coax him.

“Stop it,” he seethed, growing frustrated at the obvious fact that there was nothing he could do to help you. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

Peter closed his eyes, pressing his forehead to your temple and letting out a shuddering breath that grazed warmth against your neck. He hiccuped, a feeble act to suppress his sobs. “It was supposed to be me.”

He could feel the quake in your fingers as you released his hand, bringing yours to rest upon the line of his jaw. Peter tilted his face, nose lightly brushing up against your own.

You felt the first tear on your cheek, the rest that had precariously settled upon his eyelids letting loose. His bottom lip quivered against your skin, no longer being able to suppress the sobs that wracked his chest.

“I’m still here,” you managed to splutter out, your poorly oxygenated lungs struggling to keep up with the simple words. It was hard, wanting to stare into his eyes until your vision faded completely. And yet his were scrunched closed, nuzzled into the hair that splayed across his lap.

“This is my fault,” he choked. “I should have been more careful.”

Peter sucked in hard, the sharp breath slicing through his body. You let your hand rest from his cheek, watching as it left red smudges in its wake. You almost wanted to laugh, but it was hard to find the energy to do so.

“I was there,” you sighed. When did your head become to feel so lightheaded? “I chose...”

You found breathing to quickly become a problem once again, the angle only letting you hold on for so much longer. It was almost as if you could feel the cavity in you chest slowly collapsing.

“I chose you.” The last word was a struggle to finish off, sending your body into a fit of wet coughs.

Peters grip tightened around you, cradling you in his chest. His arms had you wrapped up on his battered body, face nuzzled to the hollow of your neck. You could feel him trembling, the wetness of his tears that buried themselves in your hair. But you hadn’t minded, all you felt was his heartbeat on your own, and the unusually slow pace of the beating underneath your rib cage.

“I love you.” It was a soft whisper that emitted from your lips. Nonetheless, it was steady.

“I love you, too.”

You felt the ghost of his lips flutter by your ear as his words caressed your skin. There was a pull of a smile on his face, and you would have masked his own if you could have found the energy.

“Don’t you lose.”

The words came to him like a deadweight, the final realization that you weren’t going to make it past the next minute. But you didn’t want to focus on that, you only wanted to focus on him. The slightest smell of his cologne that filled your nose, bringing you to know how dearly you would miss that scent. You focused on his hands that held you close, his breath brushing your cheek, and the lips that kissed your skin. You sank into the embrace, feeling your body mold to his, your breathing gradually become slower and slower.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You felt him shift, locking onto his eyes once more before he dipped his head, melding his lips to your own.

You focused on his heartbeat, on the life that he gave you in your final moments. The steady beat guided you away from him, and you let out a sob as you buried your face into his chest.

Peter stiffened, you could feel it, the atmosphere becoming unusually silent. All you heard was him, and that was alright with you. You could hear his heart, his breaths, his wrenching sobs he fought so hard to hang on to. But even then you could feel yourself slipping away, sinking further into his arms, into his warmth.

“I won’t...” You reminisced his voice, closing your eyes. The weight of keeping them open had become unbearable. “I won’t lose.”

The ghost of a smile played on your lips, the ceasing of your breaths was enough to let Peter emit a bloodcurdling cry.

“I’ll win this,” you heard him croak, just before the blackness took you over completely. Just before you felt the warmth he gave you disappear. “Only because of you.”