spidey-mads

Frank sat at her side every hour, except when he went to their homes to grab some clothes or some fast food. He even got Peter a change of clothes from his apartment.

'He would use them,' he told himself. 'He would.'

He also managed to get (y/n) to take a shower in one of the hospital's vacant rooms. It had only taken Frank one look at the nurse for her to agree and open up the room for (y/n) to use.

It was another day after that before they were allowed to see him. Nothing could have prepared (y/n) for the sight before her---wires and IVs surrounded Peter's bloody and broken body. Tears immediately sprang to her eyes as the doctor spoke.

"He shouldn't be alive, but he is. It's a miracle."

Frank stepped forward, wrapping an arm around (y/n)'s shoulders. "When... when should he wake up?"

"A day? A week?" he shrugged. "We're not sure."

(Y/n) sniffled and turned to the doctor. "But he will wake up?"

"We believe so."

She nodded and approached the bed, leaving her father to get the specifics from the doctor. He looked so small. So pale. Sinking down on the edge of the bed, (y/n)'s thumb lightly traced his cheek, careful of the dark bruising and stitched cut to his temple.

"Hey, Spider-Man," she said in a broken whisper. "I need you to wake up for me. Please."

The steady hum of the ventilator was the only response.

Shakily sighing, she gently took his hand and moved to one of the two chairs beside the bed, scooting it as close as possible. Frank joined her a few minutes later, eyes red-rimmed as he stared at the broken hero lying in the bed.

"He's how I thought he would look, you know."

(Y/n) glanced at the door. They were alone. "Spider-Man or my boyfriend?"

"Both, really," he huffed. "You've got a type."

"What does that-"

"I'm just glad it's not guys like me, alright? You've... found a good one. I-I like him."

"I was gonna tell him about you, but it just didn't feel like the right time." (Y/n) waved her free hand in the air. "Then all this happened, and we both came clean. I told him I knew he was Spider-Man, and he told me about the problems he's been having."

"I'm sorry, (y/n). This is all my fault. I should've-"

She clenched her eyes closed. "Stop. He won't blame you. He's too good." Her glossy gaze met her father's. "I don't. Blame you, I mean. I just want him to wake up."

And that's how the next two days passed---sitting at his bedside, telling him everything about anything she could think of. Stories from the coffee shop, how she felt the first time she saw him, how she felt now. The three words she'd held back slipped from her lips without restraint as she talked to him.

Nurses took the ventilator out after day one, settling with a mask supplying him the extra oxygen he needed to make up for the weakness in his lungs. Her eyes drifted to his stomach beneath the scratchy blankets. Due to his body's strength from the powers, the exit wound had been much smaller than normal.

.50 cals didn't leave small exit wounds.

What did it look like now with his speed healing? Did the stitching hurt? Was the damaged tissue repairing itself right then?

"Sweetheart. How about you go take a shower?"

She cut her eyes over at her dad. "Do I smell that bad?"

"No," he grinned. "You just... need a break. I'll sit with him."

(Y/n)'s mouth opened, but he cut her off with a nod. "I'll holler if anything happens. You're ten feet away."

After a long moment of deliberation, she relented, kissing Peter's forehead and disappearing into the bathroom. The water soothed her aching back as she let the heat settle into her bones. That chair was nothing short of a torture device designed to destroy the occupant's posture and offer no support.

Maybe it was all a ploy to get people back in the hospital.

(Y/n) shook her head. What was going on? Was she delusional?

Possibly, seeing as she'd only slept a few hours the past few nights. But how could she? When she closed her eyes, she saw the man she loved bleeding out before her. When she opened them, he lay breathing in the bed beside her.

One option was clearly better than the other.

(Y/n) quickly finished her shower and changed into gray sweatpants and a navy NYC sweatshirt. She opened the door, towel-drying her hair as she exited. "You happened to grab my favorite sweatshirt-"

The towel slipped to the floor.

"Peter?" she whispered.

He turned and smiled weakly at her from the window. "Hey."

For the first time in days, (y/n) felt like she could breathe. She was at his side the next moment, kissing every part of his face she could touch, tears trickling down her cheeks. "You're awake."

"I'll, uh, give you two a minute." Frank closed the door behind him.

(Y/n) helped Peter back into bed. She sat on the edge, gripping his hand for dear life. He was awake. His brown eyes stared back at her, dazed, but very much his.

Peter leaned back into his pillows with a sigh. "I guess I wasn't very careful."

"Peter," (y/n) breathed, shaking her head. "It's too soon for jokes."

They simply stared at each other for a few minutes, savoring each other's company. Her eyes lowered to their joined hands, then to his stomach.

"I thought I was gonna lose you. When we found you, I-" Her voice broke. "You were just... just lying there in a pool of your own blood."

Peter sat up further, wincing slightly as he did so. "Hey, I need to tell you something. Can you look at me?"

(Y/n) looked up at him through her lashes.

“When it… happened, my first thought was of you. I thought I was going to die without...” He shook his head, eyes glistening. “Without telling you how much you mean to me.”

Peter took a deep breath and pulled her closer by the hand. “I love you. More than anything, and when-”

He didn’t get the chance to finish his confession. (Y/n) kissed him softly, hands cupping his cheeks. “I love you, too,” she whispered against his lips.

With a content sigh, Peter smiled and slowly wrapped his arm around her, tugging her to lay beside him. He ignored her protests and leaned into her. Her warmth seeped through his thin hospital gown and deep into his bones.

“Does it hurt?”

He hummed against her hair.

“Pete.”

“Yeah,” he sighed.

“Did you, uh, talk to my dad?”

He raised a brow. “As your boyfriend or Spider-Man?”

“Either. He’s really cut up over what happened.”

“I know. But I’m okay. Really.”

Peter chuckled under his breath, and (y/n) sat up enough to look at him. “What?”

“I guess your dad really did shoot me.”

“Pete.”

“I asked you if he knew who I was, and you said he’d probably shoot me on site.”

She buried her face in his neck. “Still too soon.”

“Well, I’m just glad we got it out of the way.”

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

"So experimentation and torture?" (y/n) asked, popping into the back of the screen.

"Yes. Wait, who are you?"

Peter shooed her out of the camera and quickly shut down Yelena's questions. With a quick thank you, Peter ended the call and found (y/n) pacing in her room.

"I know you've gotta go, but Pete, please be careful. Rescue her, but don't forget she's still dangerous."

He gently cupped her cheeks, cutting off her rambling. "I will be, okay? I promise."

"Okay," she whispered. "Now go save the day, Spider-Man."

Then he was gone, swinging through the city like a madman as he raced to Roosevelt Island. Back at the docks, (y/n) continued to pace. Her stomach rolled at the thought of Peter facing Jean and Damage Control alone.

She had to do something.

"Dad!"

~~~

Myrtle's tired screeched to a halt as Frank slammed on the brakes to avoid the ten-car pileup. They both hopped out of the car with furrowed brows. Everyone within the shimmering dome stood frozen. A little white dog's leash was caught halfway down the strap. It frantically barked at its frozen owner.

(Y/n) smiled as she thought of Peter's fake story from the day before. His explanations were always hilarious because she knew the truth about his daily habits.

"Yo, kid!" Frank hollered into his comms. "We've got a problem. The girl's frozen everyone within a mile-and-a-half radius of the island."

"Okay. I'm here now. Is (y/n)-"

She flipped on her comms. "Hey, Spider-Man."

"What?! Why aren't you at Frank's?!"

"We thought you might need backup."

"I've got it under control, alright. You need to go back-"

Frank shook his head. "She's safer with me, kid. Trust me."

"Alright. I gotta go. Frank, I've got a plan. Don't interfere with it."

The comms cut out without another word, and the pair's eyes met. It only took one second for (y/n) to know he would never listen to the young hero. If there was one thing about Frank Castle, he always had a backup plan, a failsafe.

He hurried over to the van. "Get in."

They sped down the streets, laying on the horn as they swerved through traffic to somewhere only he knew. Frank pulled over and grabbed his rifle case from the trunk before running inside the nearest building. (Y/n) followed him up the stairs to the roof, where he quickly assembled his rifle.

"Spider-Man said not to interfere. You better not use that unless you're sure you have to."

"I'll do whatever I see fit. And what's with you and Spider-Man?"

"Oh, just shut up," she groaned. "You're reaching."

"Really?"

"Yes, now--Dad! It's expanding!"

"Okay, okay." Frank rested the bipod at the edge of the building and set up the shot. It only took him a moment to adjust for the range.

BANG.

(Y/n)'s brows lifted, and she stood as she scanned the city around her. "It's gone! You did it." She tapped her comms. "Spider-Man, the dome's gone!"

Silence.

"Spider-Man?"

The next thing she knew, Frank grabbed her arm and rushed them down the stairs and out of the building. The stricken expression on his face told her something was wrong. Was he upset about shooting Jean?

So upset that he left his specialty long-range rifle?

"What's wrong?" she asked as they climbed into the car and sped toward the Roosevelt Island bridge. Other than the occasional grunt, he didn't respond. "Dad?"

It was only when they arrived at the Damage Control facility that it all came together. She sprinted behind her dad toward the shattered facility. Frank pushed through the ajar door and froze for half a second.

There, in the center of the destroyed room, was Spider-Man. And he was lying in a widening pool of blood.

Frank was by his side in an instant, putting pressure on his pouring wound. "Hang on, kid. Hang on."

(Y/n)'s feet remained glued to the floor. She couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't come to terms with what had happened.

Her dad had shot Spider-Man. He had shot her boyfriend. He had shot Peter. Her Peter.

Then, as if everything crashed down on her at once, she ran for him with everything she had, sliding to her knees on broken glass beside him. Tears streamed down her face as she knelt over him, cradling his unconscious face in her hands.

"Peter? No, no, no, no," she cried. "Pete, you're gonna be okay. You hear me?"

"We gotta get him to a hospital. Now!"

Frank hoisted him into his arms with a grunt and dashed to the van. He laid Peter in the back, and (y/n) jumped up with him while her dad put the pedal to the metal.

"Put pressure on it! There should be some, uh, a med kit back there."

With one hand pressing on the wound, she rummaged through the junk around her until she found a roll of gauze. (Y/n) pushed against the wound using her full weight, begging him to stay with her.

"We're so close, baby. Come on."

"One minute out!"

The minute passed in what seemed like a few seconds. Then the doors flew open, and Frank hoisted Peter into his arms again. Just as he was about to make for the doors, (y/n) pulled his mask over his head.

"He'd--he'd want-"

Frank didn't need a further explanation as he bolted through the automatic doors. "Get me a medic! Now!" he bellowed.

In a flash, Peter was on a gurney and being rolled down the hallway as hospital staff swarmed his bed. Hands quickly cut his suit and removed the mask as they got to work. (Y/n) and Frank tried to follow, but two nurses stopped them.

"I'm sorry. You can't go back there. The doctors need to work."

"The hell I can't!" yelled Frank, pointing at the crowd disappearing down the hall.

After the threat of calling security was raised, he stepped back and sank into the closest chair, dropping his head in his hands. (Y/n) stood motionless as she stared down the hallway. His blood, Peter's blood, soaked her dark tactical jacket down to the skin. She still felt the fading warmth of his body beneath her touch as she slowly looked down at her hands.

Drying blood covered every inch---caked beneath her nails, the crevices of her shaking hands. Her vision blurred, and everything became too much. She numbly followed the signs to the bathroom, where she collapsed and emptied her stomach into one of the toilets. Then she dry heaved when there was nothing left.

And when that finally ceased, (y/n) just leaned back against the bathroom stall and let everything go. She held herself tightly as she sobbed, shaking uncontrollably until the emotions ebbed into numbness.

She stumbled over to the sink, leaving pink splotches on the white porcelain. (Y/n) scrubbed and scrubbed until her hands were raw. The only blood beneath her fingernails was there due to her own cracked nails. Her eyes caught on the pink soap as it swirled down the drain.

But when she caught sight of herself in the mirror? That's when things truly fell apart. Eyes red and swollen, tearstains streaking through smears of blood, clothes still slick with Peter's blood...

(Y/n) took a shuddering breath and braced her hands on the sink.

"He's okay. He's gonna be okay," she whispered to herself. She needed to believe it. Had to. A life without Peter seemed heartless, devoid of all warmth and love. Of course she loved her dad, too, but that was different.

Her dad.

Emotions warred within her at the thought. He shot Peter, but he was trying to save everyone from Jean. Anger and sadness. Frustration and understanding. In the end, an overwhelming exhaustion won out.

She washed her face and cleaned her clothes to the best of her ability before returning to her dad. Two chairs had been moved directly beside the ICU doors for the two of them in their own makeshift "waiting room."

Frank glanced up when he heard her footsteps. "So I guess I have met Peter Pan, huh?" he croaked, shaking his head when emotion filled his voice.

She only nodded as she sat beside him.

"I am so sorry, sweetheart. I..." Frank trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. He took a moment to compose himself before continuing. "I messed up. Bad. And I hate myself for it. I'm so sorry."

(Y/n)'s eyes burned once again, and her throat closed up. Unable to speak, she reached over and grasped his hand, squeezing once. That was all it took for Frank to pull her into a hug.

He cradled the back of her head. "I'm here."

________________________________________________________________

A/N: Okay, I can't leave y'all hanging. Part four is in the works!

"No." Peter shook his head. "It's just... the mask. It kind of defeats the whole anonymous superhero thing."

Frank opened his mouth with a retort, but (y/n) beat him to it. "What happened to your face?"

He scoffed, pointing to Peter with his spoon. "Ask this dum-dum. He bashed up my van."

"Myrtle?"

"Myrtle."

Peter frowned beneath the suit. He'd been the one hiding so much that he never thought she'd been hiding anything. She'd said her parents were gone, which appeared true if Frank "adopted" her. But what would push a bristling man like him to do something like that?

That was a question for another day.

The trio finished supper before long, and Peter went off to work on his inhibitor. He was pleasantly surprised that Frank had the tools he needed. After the day he'd had, he was starting to learn to not count the man out. He couldn't help but overhear the pair's conversation from their spot in the living room.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "It's been a day."

"What happened?"

"One second I was on my lunch break, and then I was swinging here with Spider-Man."

By the creak of the couch springs, it sounded like he sat down beside her. "That girl... The kid said she's after you."

"I don't know why."

"You're not leaving this boat until I take her out."

"Dad-"

"No. I'll put a bullet between her eyes before I let her get to you again."

"I know," she whispered.

Silence stretched between them.

"How are you and Peter Pan, or whatever his name is?"

(Y/n) laughed softly. "We're good."

"Why haven't I met him yet?"

"Don't even act like you haven't done some crazy illegal background check on him."

"What? Me?"

Peter shook his head and pulled off his mask with a huff, suddenly aware that he was definitely prying. On his girlfriend of all people! Sure, Frank being her adopted dad was a bombshell, but he trusted her. She would tell him in her own time.

Before long, footsteps echoed down the hallway, and (y/n) emerged. Thankfully, he had the curtain pulled between them.

"I bet it's crazy having Frank as your dad."

A deep breath was the only indication she'd heard him. Too much, Peter thought. Leave it be.

"I didn't mean for you to find out this way," she said quietly.

He looked up from his work, brows furrowing. "What?"

"Can you come out here, please?"

What was going on?

"Uhh, sure."

He tugged back on the mask and slid back the curtain. (Y/n) sat on the cot with her hands on her head. When he entered, she looked up at him.

"Without the mask, Peter."

If his mind was already frazzled, that sent it into overdrive. "My name's not Peter," he sputtered, raising his hands. "I don't even know a Peter."

(Y/n) stood slowly and approached him, a slight smirk on her lips. "I'm not stupid."

Peter's mouth went dry. "I never said you were," he ground out.

And then she was only a foot away, smiling at him and slowly pulling up his mask until it rested on his nose. Her warm breath fanned against his face. "I know you, Peter," she whispered.

(Y/n)'s hands hooked around his neck and pulled off the mask as she closed the distance, soft lips meeting his. Peter responded immediately, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer. They pulled away, breathless, and pressed their foreheads together.

"Hi," she whispered when their eyes opened.

"Hi."

(Y/n) smiled. "You're Spider-Man."

"You're Frank's daughter."

She nodded, stepping back from him, but Peter kept his hold around her waist. "It's a long story."

"You don't have to tell me now. But when did you find out? About me, I mean?"

"About eight months ago."

Peter's eyes widened, then narrowed in confusion a moment later. "What? How?"

"It wasn't hard," (y/n) smirked. "You're always out at night, you cancel all the time, you always have random cuts and bruises. But what really sold it was the red and blue lint in your dryer vent."

He shook his head with a groan, closing his eyes. "I should've known. You never asked me about anything."

"I knew you'd tell me when you were ready."

"Yeah. Does, uh, does Frank... know?"

"No," (y/n) insisted. "I wouldn't do that to you. Besides, I think he might shoot you on sight."

Rolling his eyes, Peter pressed a quick kiss to her lips and moved back to his workstation. Her eyes roamed the screen as he sank into the rolly chair. "Peter, what is this? Arachnid DNA?"

So he told her everything---from his episode with the cacoon to the inhibitor he now worked on. By the end of his spiel, she stared down at him with tears in her eyes.

"You've been going through all of this alone? Pete. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to put you in danger. What happened to May... that was because of me. I couldn't live with myself if that happened to you, too."

A wave of deja-vu washed over him. He'd said the same words to her earlier, except it wasn't her. It was Jean.

"Well, now we're in this together," said (y/n), running a hand over his hair. "Let's get this figured out."

~~~

A few hours and brainstorms later, they figured out the goggles were messing with the inhibitor's magnetic field. Relief flooded his senses as it activated, lowering the arachnid DNA in his bloodstream.

"Are we sure this is a good thing?" she asked cautiously.

"Yeah, I'm sure. I don't want to turn into a monster."

"You could never be a monster."

Peter's gaze fell to the floor. "(Y/n), you haven't seen what happens when it takes over. I-I can't control myself."

"I understand, but pushing it down... that can't be good."

Before he could respond, Frank called out for (y/n), and she retreated to the living room with a sigh. They would talk more about it later. He used the time to set up a visual search for Jean Gray.

~~~

The next morning, Peter found himself sitting across from Frank, sipping a cup of coffee while he scoured the internet for any trace of the girl. He'd found nothing but a few adoption records.

"What really happened yesterday," asked Frank, "-with (y/n)."

Peter's gaze met his. "I already told you-"

"Don't bullshit me, kid. I know there's something you're not telling her."

"Alright," he sighed. "When Jean inhabited her, she, uh, made her jump off the roof."

"And why is she being targeted?"

Because she's my girlfriend? Absolutely not.

"I'm not exactly sure."

Frank didn't seem convinced, but didn't push him. "Thanks for keeping her safe."

"Yeah."

A chime filled the air. SUSPECT SIGHTED.

"Jean's been sighted. Looks like she's attacking Damage Control HQ. I gotta go." He looked over his shoulder at the door she slept behind. "Can you make sure-"

Rolling his eyes, Frank scoffed. "You don't have to ask. Go."

A few moments after Peter disappeared, (y/n)'s door creaked open. She crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head at her dad.

"You're really gonna let him go alone? You owe him after Staten Island."

"Oh come on, sweetheart. You know I-"

"Dad."

Frank reluctantly rose from his chair, grabbing his vest from its hook by the fridge. It only took him a few seconds to grab all his equipment and stand before her.

"You stay here, you hear me?"

(Y/n) nodded. "Be careful."

"Aren't I always?"

With a kiss to her forehead, Frank followed Peter into the fray. (Y/n) stared at the door, saying a silent prayer that the two most important people in her life would return to her.

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

A/N: I just might be working on a part three if y'all want it! Let me know in the comments! Thanks for reading!

"Dear Mr. Spider-Man,

Thank you for saving my famly and the citie. We love you. I hope you feel beter soon. I want to be like you when I grow up. I'm six and I have a cot costume like you. Love you Spiderman!"

After wiping the stray tear that streaked down her cheek, she picked up a notepad propped up. It was a drawing of a maskless Spider-Man putting together Legos with another guy. Whoever wrote it clearly knew the man beneath the mask.

(Y/n) put it back and gently sat on the side of the bed. She ran her fingers slowly through his hair. If only she'd known a kid this young had been sitting across from her, eating chili the other night. Maybe she would have been more protective? Before she could think any further, the curtain rustled, and Frank appeared. Blood was smeared across his

"Hey," she murmured.

He couldn't tear his eyes off Spider-Man. His own bruised face held no emotion... or none that most people could see. (Y/n) knew him. She'd heard his past, his pain, and loved him anyway. So when she noticed the slight tremble of his lip and slow breaths, she immediately crossed the room and pulled him into her arms.

He melted into her and pressed his face into the side of her neck as her hand threaded into his hair. "It's alright," she whispered, trying to keep her voice steady.

Frank shook his head against her. "It's not alright." He pulled back suddenly and pointed at the bed, eyes glistening. "I did that to him. He's just a kid, (y/n)!"

"It was an accident. You were trying to-"

"It doesn't matter what I was trying to do. I did it. I shot him."

(Y/n) took his face in her hands. "Look at me. You didn't mean to. It was an accident, Frank. You were trying to save everyone from Jean. Look at him," she slowly turned his face toward the bed. "He's alive. He's gonna make it."

A tear trickled down his face. "I think she's helping him breathe," he muttered. "The girl."

"Good. Then she won't let him go."

"He wouldn't even be in this position-"

"Frank Castle," she snapped. Sometimes he needed some tough love. "You are not to blame. He knew the risks that come with being a superhero. If anyone's to blame, it's Damage Control. Remember that."

He nodded, but his eyes didn't leave the kid.

"I want you to say it."

"I know," he finally admitted in a low grumble.

After a few beats of silence, (y/n) grabbed the bag off the table. "Brought what you asked for." She made sure the door was closed before whispering, "Did you really need the gun?"

"Yeah. What if someone tried to come after him?"

Made sense.

"Okay, how about you go get cleaned up? I'll sit with him."

Frank reluctantly agreed and disappeared into the bathroom while (y/n) sank into the chair beside the bed. She scooted it close enough to hold his hand.

"I don't know how, kid, but you managed to worm your way into that heart of his," she chuckled. "Maybe you annoyed him enough that he started to like you... that's what happened with me." She sighed and squeezed his hand. "Sleep well, Spider-Man."

~~~~~~~~~

Four Days Later:

Relief was too weak a word to describe (y/n)'s feelings when she walked in to see Spider-Man awake and talking to Frank.

"You're awake!" she breathed, walking over to give him a gentle hug before sitting in the chair beside Frank. He wore the biggest smile she'd seen in days.

"I forgot to thank you for the chili."

(Y/n) only laughed and shook her head. "Spider-Man, you don't have to thank me for that."

"Call me Peter. Peter Parker."

Frank met her gaze and nodded with a grin. "Well, we are very glad to see you up, Peter. You have a lot of people worried about you. This guy," she pointed to Frank, "-included."

"Really?" he groaned.

"I've heard." Peter smiled and raised a brow at her. "What did he say? You know he just cried?"

Before she could respond, Frank stood and gestured to the window and all the adoring fans below. "You ready to blow this popsicle stand?"

After Peter hobbled out of the hospital and Frank executed his grand--- and hilarious---plan, only the two of them remained. He wrapped his arms around (y/n)'s waist and pulled her against him.

"Thank you," said Frank, leaning his forehead against hers. "For all of it."

"I'll always be here."

A smile graced his lips as he closed the distance between them and kissed her. Frank wouldn't have imagined that after all he'd done and all he'd been through, someone would love him. Someone so kind, and patient, and understanding.

Pulling away, he pecked her cheek and tugged her into a hug. "I love you, you know that?"

"No, I was-I was just, uh- working out and-"

"I'm kidding," she interrupted with a smile.

Peter huffed and sank into one of the two chairs at his "dining table." Dining table, workstation, counter space... that table did it all. Everything became multipurpose in such a small apartment. He wiped a few crumbs from the table while he watched (y/n) flit around the kitchen, telling him about her day at the coffee shop.

He listened intently about the group of teenage girls who'd spent the whole morning sitting across from each other without saying a single word. She absentmindedly chopped up the vegetables she'd brought from the store.

"What's the point of even hanging out if you're just gonna stare at your phone the whole time?" (Y/n) shook her head. "I don't get it."

He couldn't help but chuckle.

"What?" she asked with a raised brow.

"Nothing."

"Yeah, yeah. Laugh at me. How about you tell me what you did today, Parker?"

What could he say? Yeah, I passed out and then woke up in a literal spiderweb? Or I'm currently fighting against arachnid DNA taking over my body?

"I just... delivered some DoorDash orders. A little dog got out, and I had to chase it down."

The expression on her face changed from faux annoyance to suspicion. “What color was it?”

“White,” he answered immediately.

“Hmm.”

Then she went back to cooking. Peter got up to join her, but then he bowed over, clutching his head with a hand on the chair for balance. (Y/n) ran over to him and helped him to the couch.

"Pete?" she sputtered, kneeling in front of him with her hands resting on his knees. "Hey, hey, hey. I'm here. What can I do?"

Her only answer was another groan as he tightened his grip on his head. Peter's headaches had started a few months prior and got progressively worse. This was the worst she'd seen.

(Y/n)'s eyes scanned the room, thinking of what she could do to help when they landed on the medicine cabinet. Advil. It wouldn't do much, but it would give him a little relief... right?

Promising she'd be right back, (y/n) sprinted to get the bottle and a glass of water. By the time she returned a few moments later, it appeared the worst of it had passed. She got him to take a few pills before sitting next to him.

She soothingly ran her fingers through his curls. Peter leaned into her touch as she whispered. "Feeling any better?"

Peter nodded slightly.

"Good... Babe, have you been to the doctor yet? They keep getting worse and-"

"I'm fine," he ground out. "I don't need to go. The meds are helping."

(Y/n) opened her mouth, but Peter beat her to it. He squinted over at her. "Dinner's burning."

"Shoot."

With a gentle kiss to his hair, she got up and sprinted to the kitchen. A sharp pain rang through his head at the loss of her touch. He didn't understand it-how he'd become so attached so quickly. One day he was content with being alone. But then the next, she was there, smiling at him from across the hall as she moved in.

And a year later, he couldn't imagine his life without her. Gone were the days of endless Little Caesars boxes littering his apartment. Instead, he had home-cooked meals most nights before patrols. (Y/n) brought back a light in his life that had long been extinguished... a warmth that had disappeared when May died.

May would like her. Peter had no doubt about that.

His heart beat a little faster, and his mind got fuzzy in her presence. He knew love was the word to describe how he felt, but saying it out loud made it more real. More dangerous.

The closer they got, the more danger she was in. Peter had battled within himself time and time again about telling her, but he could never justify putting (y/n) in more danger. So he kept her close, but just shut out, just far enough away to keep her from knowing the truth about him.

But a few days later, when the... thing that was inhabiting people found him, it shook him to his core.

"You know, your apartment is just what I expected. A sad, twenty-something man's apartment. Imagine my surprise when I read the letter on the fridge. Sweet really."

Peter's brows furrowed beneath his suit. "You're bluffing."

They had to be.

"Am I?" Then the thing jumped across the way to inhabit a man walking by. "Does (y/n) know about this side of you, Peter Parker? Does she know about the… monster inside you?"

Peter took a step closer, ignoring the forming pit in his stomach. “What do you want? V-MAX? You’re not getting it.”

The person laughed. “I can get whatever I want. I think (y/n) would love to know that her beloved boyfriend is New York’s favorite web slinger.”

“You don’t know where she is.”

“It’s a long way to the coffee shop.”

His heart sank. The letter. She’d talked about going there on their first date. And there was the picture hanging beside the letter of them. Peter was pretty sure you could see the window art behind them.

Before he could move, the thing switched to a woman twenty feet away. “Race you.”

And then he was off, frantically swinging through the city after the thing as it inhabited person after person. Peter couldn't, wouldn't let it near (y/n). If anything happened to her... no, he couldn't think about that. But then the thing inhabited the helicopter pilot, and Peter thought it was over. His heartbeat echoed in his ears as he frantically got E.V. to figure out its max jump distance.

33 feet.

Peter managed to trap the thing by webbing the helicopter to a crane, suspending it with no one inside the jump radius. He breathed a little easier as he swung to the bakery.

He checked the time on his HUD. 2:30. She'd be on her lunch break, probably eating her sandwich on the roof of the building like normal. Peter smiled at the memory of that conversation.

"Why do you go up there?"

(Y/n) shrugged, smiling over at him. "I just like feeling the sun on my face."

It was the little things that made him love her. How she cooked for him without being asked, how she never pried about his past, how she was always patient when he had to cancel. But most of all, how she grounded him. Spider-Man had started to take over Peter Parker's life.

But then she'd arrived.

Peter found her just where he thought he would, sitting in a ratty beach chair atop the building. The crust of her sandwich lay in the plastic bag on her lap. Perching on the far corner of the building, Peter found himself watching her for a few moments.

A warmth he could only describe as adoration settled inside him where worry and fear had been occupying minutes earlier. She was safe.

But if this thing could travel that fast, he had to get her out of here. But where was far enough from people to keep her safe? Then it hit him.

Who was the one person who isolated themselves from everyone and could actually defend her if need be? Frank.

He turned on the voice changer on his suit and hopped down from his perch. "Miss (y/l/n)! You need to come with me right now. You're in danger."

She whipped around so fast that she almost fell out of the chair, barely managing to catch herself before shooting up. "Spider-Man? What are you talking about?" she sputtered.

"There's no time," he said with a shake of his head. "Someone's after you, and we need to get you out of here. Right now."

"But-"

"We gotta go." Peter extended a hand to her. "Trust me."

(Y/n) narrowed her eyes for half a second as she came to a decision. After a moment, she sighed. "Okay."

In a flash, she was in his arms, clutching him for dear life as he swung them across the city. Holding her close eased some of Peter's anxiety, but he wouldn't feel completely at ease until they reached Frank's.

"Hey! Spider-Man!" She cried, tapping his shoulder. "Put me down and tell me what's going on! Now!!"

They didn't have time, but he swung them onto a nearby roof anyway. She immediately stepped back from him. He expected her to run her hands through her now-tangled hair, but instead she bent over and placed her hands on her knees. After taking a few deep breaths, she stood up and approached him with wide eyes.

"What's happening right now?"

"There's this thing... it-it can inhabit people and control them," Peter stuttered. It was even scarier saying it out loud. "And now it's coming after you. We've got to get you out of the city so it can't reach you."

Her brows drew together. "Why is it after me?"

Peter took a moment to think. 'Because you're my girlfriend' didn't seem like the best answer at the moment. "I don't know."

"You don't know? Then how do you know it's coming after me?"

"I just do, okay?!" He took a few steps toward her so they were only a couple of feet apart. His voice softened. "You're going to have to trust me."

"I don't know you."

"(Y/n), please."

The desperation in his voice appeared to convince her. "Fine. But I need to let my boyfriend know I'm okay."

Peter couldn't help but chuckle. The irony of it all. "I'll take care of it."

"How do you know my boyfriend?"

"Peter, right?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck. "He, uh, delivered my DoorDash the other day. Told me about his girl who loved Spider-Man. Even showed me a picture. Respectful guy."

She turned from him, pacing. "He didn't mention that," she muttered. (Y/n) stopped pacing and wrapped her arms around herself, standing on the edge of the building and staring out over the city. "I think he’s cheating on me.”

“What!? No!” Peter’s eyes almost bugged out of his head. “He’s crazy about you, (y/n), I swear!"

She peered at him over her shoulder, eyes shining with tears. "And how would you know that, Spider-Man?"

"Because I..." Peter trailed off.

He had to tell her.

Turning off his voice changer, Peter approached her. "Because I know how I feel about you, (y/n)."

"Peter?"

Her face morphed from sadness to confusion as she recognized his voice. She raised her hands to his shoulders, then up to his face before slowly peeling off his mask.

"Hi," he whispered. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. It's because I-I love you, and I don't want anything to happen to you because of me."

(Y/n) shook her head at him, hands resting on his face. "You could've told me. And I love you, too."

Their lips met a moment later. She threaded her fingers through his hair as they kissed. Pulling away, she smiled and turned back toward the edge.

"It's funny, you know?"

"What?" he chuckled, unable to stop a wide grin.

"That you thought she'd accept your lies."

Peter's smile dropped. No, no, no, no...

(Y/n) turned around to face him, backing her heels to the edge of the building, sending a few rocks tumbling to the street below. Her face no longer held the warmth he'd seen moments before.

"Still didn't mention the monster inside you, Peter."

He held out his hands. "Please, just leave her alone. Please."

Then she was falling, nothing but air between her and the street. Peter darted after her and managed to wrap his arms around her just before she hit the pavement. He propped her up against his chest.

"Hey, hey, hey. You're okay," breathed Peter.

(Y/n)'s chest rose and fell slowly, and he felt like he could breathe again. That was until a car pulled up and its driver got out. The inhabited man threatened them one last time before getting back in and pulling away. Peter's HUD managed to get a picture of the culprit.

It was a girl. A teenager.

He would find out her identity later. The unconscious woman in his arms was his only priority. Wrapping his arms around her, Peter took off through the streets, swinging toward Frank's.

They were almost there when (y/n) came to. She started thrashing in his hold for a moment before realizing she was a hundred feet in the air.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! How'd I get here!? Spider-Man?"

"It's okay! I'm taking you somewhere safe, alright? Just breathe."

To his surprise, she only held him tighter and didn't ask any questions. Only when they landed at the docks did she speak.

"Look, I need to tell-"

He nodded back at her. "Your boyfriend knows you're safe."

"Okay, thanks, but that's not what I was saying," (y/n) said with a smile. "Make sure to watch where you're-"

Click.

A moment later, Peter set off a series of booby traps that ended with them rolling down into the dry dock. "You good?" he asked breathlessly.

(Y/n) nodded and rose to her feet just as a rough voice echoed through the empty warehouse. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

Peter raised a brow. "Didn't really have time to call, Frank."

"Not you, daffodil," Frank scoffed. "Sweetheart, what are you doing with web-slinger here?"

Sweetheart?

She shrugged. "I don't really know."

"Why is she here, kid?" said Frank, his attention returning to Spider-Man.

"There's this thing after her, and I need somewhere to keep her safe."

The man's face shifted to something resembling worry. Peter had never seen the expression on Frank's face before. He'd expected to have to convince him, but he only scanned the dock's entrance before smiling down at (y/n).

"Made your favorite chili."

Peter glanced between the two of them. "You two know each other."

"Yeah," she chuckled. "He's my dad."

"Your dad?!"

________________________________________________________________

A/N: You can now find part two here!

Hope you enjoyed!