Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man

It hadn’t made sense at first. 

The city had been my safe-haven, one that filled my dreams Under the Mountain whenever exhaustion would set in and finally force my eyes shut. My beloved temporary escape from Amarantha’s cruel reign, the only remaining tether to my sanity; and now that I had finally returned after forty-nine Gods-awful years, I was left to find that it was no longer what I remembered it to be. 

Velaris was one of the only places to remain untouched by her merciless hands, though it still felt as though it had been stripped of all its beauty, just as the rest of Prythian had been. My home, a place that had brought me such solace, now felt cold and foreign.

Then, eventually, it dawned on me. Velaris hadn’t been the one to change. I had. 

No one had escaped Under the Mountain unscathed and I knew this, but somehow I had been foolish enough to believe that returning home would be the cure to all the horrors I had endured. Velaris was as beautiful as ever-the same warm, welcoming city that I loved with all my heart. But I was no longer beautiful. No longer warm. No longer willing to welcome anyone into my life, including my own family. 

A part of me had expected Rhys to share in that realization, to have a similar feeling of unease as we were forced to relearn how to exist within the confines of our home. The two of us had felt things under there that our friends would never fully understand, seen things that I knew would haunt us for centuries. I hadn’t thought it foolish to assume that he too would struggle upon returning home; upon remembering what it felt like to be safe. But, I soon realized, that I was the only one to feel a sense of estrangement here. The only one who hadn’t stopped living as if they were still trapped Under the Mountain. 

We were all meant to spend Starfall together, celebrate as a family for the first time in decades. Yet, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t bring myself to go downstairs and join them. I could hear the sound of their laughter as I stood atop one of the many balconies a the House of Wind, listening as they made small talk and drank wine. I wanted them to be happy, I wanted to be happy with them, but the sound of their joy only left me feeling more hollow. 

I leaned against the balcony railing, burying my face in my hands and savoring the feel of cold palms against flushed cheeks. I tried to will that empty feeling away, sighing as it only began to morph into the only other emotion I had felt since returning: sadness. At this point I wasn’t sure which was worse. 

As tears began to well up in my eyes I felt the soothing touch of shadows brushing against my bare arm, grazing gently just below the sleeve of my gown. My head instinctively snapped up from my hands, once again letting the emptiness consume me in an effort to hide just how broken I had become. 

“Mor sent me to look for you.” 

Azriel’s footsteps had been feather-light as always, a carefully honed skill that worked to his advantage as the resident Spymaster. His shadows continued to whirl around my arm, acting as a considerate gesture to make sure I had been aware of his presence rather than just sneaking up on me. 

“She’s asked for you about a dozen times in the past ten minutes.” 

I forced a chuckle at his words, followed by a small smile. “I’m sure she’s already raided the wine cellar and began overindulging herself by now, yeah? Give it a bit longer, I’m sure soon enough she won’t even notice I’m missing.” 

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that since she’s had to suffer through forty-nine years without her favorite drinking partner. If you don’t hurry up and drain the rest of the cellar with her then I doubt she will be quick to forgive you.” 

Azriel came to join me in leaning against the railing, his head tilted towards the sky as his shadows began to dissipate. For a moment he indulged in the silence between us, giving me some time to think over my list of excuses as to why I wouldn’t be joining them tonight. Then, he spoke again. 

“Where have you been lately?” 

The question was deceptively simple and didn’t come with an easy answer. 

“Well,” I took a heavy breath, beginning to pick at my nail-beds, “Rhys signed off on me going back to work so long as I work under Madja for the time being, so most of the time I’m in the city. I tried to tell him it was silly and I didn’t need to be supervised, but you know Rhys. He insists that it’s for the best so I don’t get too overwhelmed.” 

Madja had been the one to oversee my training when I first decided to become a healer. I had just barely completed my training before Amarantha’s reign began, and my time spent Under the Mountain had only aided me in honing the skills she taught me as I tried to tend to whatever injuries I could. But Rhys had been alongside me as I fought to heal as many as I could, had witnessed the way each person I lost had taken a piece of me with him; likely the reason why he had felt more comfortable having me work under Madja rather than begin healing on my own again, an attempt to place less weight on my shoulders for a while. 

“While I’m glad to hear that you’re working again,” I could feel his gaze shift from the stars to me, though I still refused to look up from my own hands, “you know that’s not what I meant.” 

Another smile tugged at my lips, though this one was genuine, albeit weak. “You can’t blame me for trying to avoid the question, can you?” 

“Not at all, though I do hope you’ll try and answer it anyway.” 

“Gods, things really have changed, haven’t they? It used to be me having to pester you to let your feelings out. I guess the tables finally turned.” I shook my head at the thought of all the nights so long ago where I would fight to gain Azriel’s trust, and the ones that followed where he would actually share some of the things that plagued him. “I think I’ve just been stuck in my own head lately.” 

A weak answer, one that I knew wouldn’t satisfy him, because I wouldn’t have been satisfied with it either if the roles were reversed. 

“You’ve been home for months now and yet this is the most we’ve spoken to each other--so I’ve noticed that you haven’t been very present.” His words were so careful, so gentle, and they were laced with so much concern that it made my stomach twist. 

“Have I?” Been home, I mean.” I forced myself to look away from my hands, glancing over at him as his brows furrowed together at the question. “I know it probably doesn’t make any sense, but it just doesn’t feel like home anymore, ya know?” 

“Velaris?” His head tilted slightly as he spoke, offering me his full attention. 

“The world.” I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, averting my eyes from him again to stare at the stars. “I used to have so much faith in everything. Maybe not in the Gods or even the High Lords, but in the world. I believed that there was a purpose to it all, believed in the beauty of life--the same beauty that made me want to become a healer. And now? All of that is gone. I don’t have faith in any of it anymore.” 

The weight of sadness began to creep back into my chest, once again filling the hollow space and making me feel weighted. 

“I thought being back home would fix that. That seeing anywhere that hadn’t been touched by her would fix it. It was supposed to give me something to believe in again, to know that something beautiful had survived.” I chewed on my bottom lip, fighting to keep my voice even, “Truthfully? I think everything beautiful died under there.” 

“No.” Azriel spoke quickly, not allowing even a moment of silence. He lifted his hand off the railing as though he were going to reach for mine, hesitating at the last moment as it hovered over my skin, ultimately settling against the railing again. “Not everything beautiful is dead. You survived.” 

“Is it bad that I wish I hadn’t?” It fell from my lips before I had a chance to stop it, the collected mask that Azriel always wore falling in an instant, replaced with an emotion I couldn’t quite figure out. “I tried to save as many lives as I could, but there were just too many that needed saving. Some of them were beyond help, but fuck Az, some of them? They begged for death, begged me not to help them. Death was just a means to an end for them, and honestly? I think they might have had it right. It would have been better to die than to live like this.” 

He didn’t fight the silence this time, letting it grow until it felt like I was suffocating in it. I turned my head towards him, his lips parted slightly though no sound came out, words lost upon the Shadowsinger at the confession. 

“I’m sorry.” It came out as a whisper as a new emotion flooded through me for the first time in years. Guilt-for thrusting the weight of my problems onto him. “I shouldn’t have put that on you.” I cleared my throat, forcing myself to be louder this time. “It’s just--I don’t know--there used to be so much good in the world, and I just can’t see it anymore.” 

“Try a mirror.” His statement was forward and a bit awkward, a hint of desperation behind the rushed words that was entirely unlike him. “You know, once we realized that you and Rhys weren’t coming back, that there was absolutely nothing we could do to save the two of you, you were what got me through Y/N. I took my favorite things about you-like the way you would smile whenever all of us would find time to be in one room together-and I committed them to memory. And every grueling day that I had to force myself out of bed, every day I was forced to live without you, I would think of them. I would use them to remind myself that I couldn’t give up. I couldn’t lose faith. Because even if I couldn’t see you, I could still feel you, and I wasn’t going to allow myself to give up until you were safe again.” 

Azriel’s hand raised again and this time he didn’t hesitate as his hand pressed itself against my cheek. I forced myself to stay still against his tough, afraid that if I moved even slightly he would take his touch away. 

“When I first met you, you forced yourself into my life. Spent years clawing at the walls I built around myself, around what happened. You never gave up. ” His thumb hesitantly stroked my face, scarred skin against smooth flesh. “You are all the proof I will ever need that beautiful things still live.” My eyes fluttered shut, an unfamiliar warmth spreading through the hollow space that lived inside me, “You’re one of the most intelligent healers I’ve ever met, and so you know that trauma doesn’t heal overnight. But I can promise you that all of us are here to help you. I am here to help you, in whatever way you need.” 

I felt his breath against my skin as he spoke, warm and minty, and I squeezed my eyes shut even tighter to try and fight against the tears attempting to force their way out. 

“You’re not a prisoner anymore. You’re allowed to come home, love.” 

“I’m terrified.” My voice wobbled as a I spoke, forcing myself to look at him, tears sliding down my cheek and falling against the hand still pressed against my face. “What if the pain never goes away? The fear?” 

Azriel let himself smile, “It never goes away, not fully. But it changes, becomes more numb with time, until you barely feel it at all. And I’ll be right there with you every step of the way.” 

There was a sudden crash from downstairs that sounded like the shattering of a bottle, followed by an eruption of drunken laughter. Azriel rolled his eyes at the noise while I couldn’t help but let out a giggle of my own through tears. “They’ll be there for you too, I’m sure.” 

“I don’t want all of you to be worried about me, though. I don’t want you worrying about me.” I playfully shoved his arm, “There’s so much happening, so much to focus on. Worrying about me will just add to the stress.”

“You could never add to my stress.” All hints of teasing vanished, his tone serious as he now used both hands to cup my face, hazel eyes glued onto my own. “I’ve worried about you for the last forty-nine years. At least now I get to do it with you by my side. You matter so much to me, Y/N.”

He didn’t follow it up with a reminder that I also mattered to our family, that everyone worried for Rhys and I’s safety Under the Mountain. He spoke only of himself, in such a personal and intimate way. That unfamiliar warmth in my chest began to grow larger, accompanied by an overwhelming sense of nerves as he leaned closer to me, pressing his lips against the top of my head.

My heart threatened to beat right out of my chest as he pulled back from me, his hands falling from my face as that composed mask of his began to take over his features again, though a tinge of crimson coloring still painted his cheeks under the moonlight.

“I should probably rejoin everyone before they send Cassian after me.” Azriel took a step back, silent for a moment before offering his arm towards me, “You’re welcome to accompany me. I know everyone would love to see you-especially Mor.” 

I took a few deep breaths, steadying my still-racing heart before moving towards him to lock arms. 

“Shut the fuck up-” he hissed at you, his hand now planted firmly against your mouth in an attempt to muffle the stream of moans pouring from your lips, “they’re gonna hear you.” 

With no hesitation you bit down against his palm, snickering at him as he jerked it away, groaning at the stinging sensation. He retaliated by roughly shoving a third finger inside of you, grinning as your eyes squeezed shut, just barely able to take it. 

Neither of you could really remember exactly how you had gotten here. No matter how hard you would try to pin it back to a specific moment in time when things changed between the two of you--you just couldn’t. 

One day Peter was your dads girlfriend’s annoying nephew. Someone that you absolutely could not stand no matter how hard you tried. His constant snarky comments always left you rolling your eyes. His blatant lack of respect left a nasty taste in your mouth. The two of you were just too different from one another. And everyone knew how much the two of you hated each other, just barely getting along for the sake of your dad and May. 

So it would be quite a shock to anyone if they learned what your relationship had evolved into behind closed doors. 

Peter’s lips latched themselves onto your neck, his fingers continuing to pump inside of you at a ferocious rate. His teeth attacked the sensitive skin, lightly sucking against it. 

“Fuck-stop.” you had meant to sound demanding but your voice had other plans, coming out as more of a whine, the desperate sound making him smirk against your neck, “You’re gonna leave marks!” 

The two of you were always extremely cautious when it came to your secret encounters, never wanting to give anyone reason to be suspicious. That of course meant hickeys were strictly off-limits, a rule you had both agreed to early on. 

“Maybe that’s what I want-” in-between his words he continued to leave little kitten licks against your skin, your breathing becoming shallow and heavy as the light prodding of his tongue left you wanting more, “let everyone know who you belong to, yeah?” the hand that wasn’t knuckle deep inside of you had come up to massage your breast, squeezing roughly and making you sink your head back further into his pillow. 

Peter moved away from your neck and despite your insistence for him to stop his actions you immediately missed the contact, wanting to feel him again. He lightly pulled on his bottom lip with his teeth, taking in the sight of you squirming desperately beneath him and he swore that just looking at you would be enough to make him cum--though he would never say that. 

“Imagine what everyone would think,” he taunted you, pinching your nipple and eliciting another moan from your lips, “finding out that the innocent Y/N is so desperate for my dick.” 

Denying the claim would have been futile. Both of you knew that what he had said was true. You had become increasingly needy when it came to him. And once you had moved into the Parker household it only continued to get worse. Constantly going into his room when everyone else was busy. Sneaking into the bathroom whenever he would go to take a shower. 

But it didn’t matter how much he teased you about it. Because both of you knew that he was just as desperate for you, even if he would never admit it. 

You still glared at him though, knowing his words were true but still being irritated by them. Being irritated by him. “You would be a lot hotter if you shut the hell up and just fucked me already.” 

Peter grinned down at you, always loving when you finally had enough of his teasing and would start to talk back to him. 

“Haven’t we talked about this?” the sudden whisper of his voice against your ear didn’t even catch you by surprise this time, having finally gotten used to the constant surprise interjections in your life. “Pretty girls plus dark New York sidewalks equals big no-no!” 

A smile was already growing on your lips at his words, not bothering to turn your head to face him as you replied, allowing the warmth of his breath to continue tickling against your ear. “C’mon bug boy,” you joked, “I can take care of myself! You know that.”  

He let out an annoyed groan at the nickname that you were constantly throwing at him, moving to step in front of you and deciding to ignore your statement. “Do you even watch the news? Cause I’ll tell ya, it’s a crazy world we live in, Y/N.” he wagged his finger in your face sarcastically as he spoke, “And I--as your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man--refuse to sit by idly while you continue to put your life in danger!” 

“Ah, yes!” you feigned a look of terror, “I don’t know how I could be so careless!” 

“Exactly! It’s incredibly irresponsible of you.” 

“You’re right.” you agreed solemnly, shaking your head at the foolish actions, “Going out for milk is definitely a crime-ridden activity.” 

Spider-Man frowned as he glanced down at your hand, noticing the gallon of 2% in your hand for the first time since he had started this little bit. “To be fair going out for milk is the leading cause of missing dads.” the retort came out of his mouth so quickly, always fast on his feet when it came to snarky comments. 

“But seriously,” he continued before you even had a chance to respond, “did you genuinely put your life in danger for milk? What time is it anyways, like, two in the morning? There is absolutely no reason you should be out this late.” 

“It’s nine, actually.” you corrected him, struggling to contain your laughter at his dramatics. 

“What?” his hands clasped at the side of his head, pretending to be panicked, “It’s nine? That is the worst time for crime! Everyone knows this!” one of the hands placed on his head came down to rest under his chin, “Now tell me--did you at least have some milk related emergency? Or was this truly just a careless act on your part.” 

You couldn’t see the expression on his face due to the red mask covering him, but you could still easily tell that he was trying hard to look disappointed in you. 

“Oh no! This was an emergency. If I don’t get my bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch in the morning then I promise you that I would have wreaked absolute havoc on the city.” you assured him. 

“Hmph. Not quite sure I believe you but fine-” Spider-Man raised his hands in defense, “I’ll let you win this time.” 

At this point in your walk you were only about five minutes from your apartment, a fact that was well known by the both of you as he gladly accompanied you for the rest of your journey. 

This had become a frequent occurrence in your life, starting shortly after Spider-Man first showed his face in the city. 

In the beginning you were hesitant when he started to approach you, unsure if befriending a man dressed in spandex was really your best idea. Yet, eventually, he managed to win you over, slowly engaging in what was now just his usual antics and teasing that you loved so much. It became impossible to ignore him. But when it came to why he chose you? Things remained a mystery--that being one of the many secrets the masked man refused to share with you. 

“So, tell me, what did I do to be graced with your presence tonight?” You playfully questioned him, lightly bumping your shoulder into his as he walked beside you. 

“Well that doesn’t sound like the voice of someone happy to see their best friend. I mean if you wanna start complaining then I can just go!” he playfully pointed his thumb over his shoulder, smiling to himself when he managed to get another laugh out of you, “I’m sure there is a cat stuck in a tree somewhere that needs my help.” 

“Since when did you become my best friend?” You cocked a brow at him, ignoring the majority of what he said in favor of focusing on the one tiny detail that had caught you off guard. 

“Ouch.” he stopped dead in his tracks, dramatically clutching his heart, “The hits just keep coming tonight, don’t they? Maybe I should’ve stayed home.” 

Rolling your eyes at him you reached out and swatted at his chest, picking back up your pace with him slowly trailing behind you again. “I’m not opposed to you being my best friend!” you corrected him, “I’m just not sure you can even be best friends with someone when you don’t even know there name!” 

He scrunched up his nose in his mask, “You know my name! First name: Spider last name: Man.” 

The answer didn’t shock you, knowing that no matter how long you teased him about his secret identity he still wouldn’t share it with you. “Ya know what? You’re right. My apologies, Mr. Man, forgive me for my lapse in memory.” 

In the beginning you had been a little off-put by his lack of trust in you. After all, Spider-Man had unlimited knowledge when it came to you. He knew what apartment building you lived in, which coffee shop you worked at, where you were going to school, and even obscure little details like what your childhood dogs name was. He had acquired so many random little details about your life on these walks--and yet you had learned surprisingly little about him. It only seemed fair. But, after a while, you learned not to be offended by it. 

With time it became apparent that it wasn’t necessarily that the superhero lacked trust in you. It was simply that the knowledge of his identity came with a much greater risk than just knowing what your favorite ice cream flavor was. Once you began to view it that way it became easier to come to terms with the fact that you just weren’t meant to know the person beneath the mask, happy to settle for who he was with it on. 

Because even with the lack of information you had about him it would be hard to deny that he had earned a special place in your life. Being with him was just so easy to you, comparable to something like breathing or eating. Everything about it felt natural and it started to become difficult to remember what your life was even like before Spider-Man had become a part of it. 

“Ugh. This walk is never long enough.” He whined while staring up at your building. 

“Well someone has been too busy saving the city to go on a longer walk.” You teased him. “Or maybe you’re just finally getting tired of me, huh? Blaming your superhero duties in order to get out of spending time with me.” 

Even with the mask covering his face it was obvious that he was rolling his eyes at you. “Not likely.” he promised, “But now that you mention it, we really haven’t spent much time together, huh?” the realization seemed to spark an idea in his head, “Do you work tomorrow?” 

You nodded. 

“Perfect!” 

“Can’t really say that I agree.” you grimaced at the thought of your shift at the coffee shop tomorrow, already dreading it. 

“Well-sure-but it’s a longer walk from the shop to your house. So when you get off tomorrow I’ll swing by and walk you home, deal?” 

“I’m starting to think you’re just becoming my personal body guard, Spidey. First you start walking me home while I’m out running errands and now you’re gonna be waiting for me when I get off work?” you grinned at him, “I honestly might be the safest person in the city.” 

“I would be a terrible bodyguard. Honest. I dunno how I even manage the whole ‘superhero’ gig.” he held up air-quotes around the word superhero, once again managing to bring a little bit of humor into your life, something you certainly were never lacking ever since he came around. “Either way--do we have a deal?” 

Of course you wanted to say yes. Even though you were teasing him about it he really had become one of your best friends, and the thought of spending some extra time with him tomorrow sounded great. You bit down on your bottom lip, nibbling on it slightly before answering, “I might actually have to take a raincheck on that.” 

“Yeah? How come?” 

Your eyes were glued to the sidewalk, fingers fidgeting with the buttons on your jacket while the other tightly gripped the handle of the milk jug, “There’s sort of this guy?” his eyes widened at your words, though you wouldn’t have been able to tell due to the mask, “Nothing’s happened between us or anything but he’s been coming in to work for a couple of weeks now and he’s always there on Tuesdays and so I was kind of thinking about trying to talk to him tomorrow?” 

“Oh.” he mentally cursed himself for the drop in his tone, not wanting you to notice. “That’s... amazing.” 

You forced a tight lipped smile, “Just figured it was probably time I put myself out there, right?” 

Spider-Man nodded, trying to hide his disscontempt. 

“I think you’d really like him though! I’ve only had a couple of conversations with him but it’s really weird how much Peter’s humor reminds me of yours!” 

His heart dropped.

Butterflies erupted in his stomach. 

He genuinely felt like he could throw up--and if it weren’t for the pretty girl in front of him and the fact that he was wearing a mask that would just push all of the vomit back onto his face? He probably would have. 

When he had made the decision to start visiting you at work as--well, himself--he had never even considered the thought that you would give him a second glance. And he considered himself lucky for even managing to strike up a few conversations with you as Peter Parker, managing to make you laugh almost as much as he did as Spider-Man, but not once did he think he had actually made any sort of impression on you. 

“Well if he reminds you of me then it sounds like you’re going after quite the lady-killer.” Spider-Man teased. You couldn’t help but notice the switch in his tone though, suddenly right back to sounding absolutely overjoyed even though he hadn’t just moments ago. 

You opened your mouth to comment on the switch, but before any words could leave your mouth you were both distracted by the sounds of sirens wailing from a couple blocks away, meaning there was no time to talk to him about it now.

“Thanks Spidey,” without much thought you flung your arms around him, squeezing him tightly before letting go. “Now go! They probably need you over there. I think I can manage getting inside by myself.” 

He was grinning so wide that it was almost visible through the thin material of his mask, turning to head in the direction of the sound, “See you tomorrow.” 

It wasn’t uncommon for either of you to barge into the other ones room unannounced. Over the years it had just become a normal thing, neither of you thinking much of it when you would waltz into the others house like you lived there, treating basic privacy like an irrelevant thing, and luckily that had always worked out for you. But it truly had been just a matter of time of time before one of you finally wandered in on the other and finally wished you had waited behind the safety of a closed door. 

“Oh my god-” the words spilled from your mouth without any permission, your hand instinctively flying up to shield a very naked Peter from your view. “I am so sorry!” 

Your rushed apology did very little when it came to actually easing any of the embarrassment that was now eating away at the both of you, Peter scrambling to find something to cover himself with. 

The sound of him rustling around his room was accompanied by a bunch of half sentences and frantic stutters, “thought it was locked!” being the only coherent statement that left his mouth. 

 “Look at the bright side!” you began jokingly, peaking through the cracks of your fingers at him as he hastily pulled a pair of sweatpants over the lower half of his body, “At least now I can tell everyone I know that Spider-Man is packing. Could probably make a quick buck selling that story to the Daily Bugle, don’t ya think?” 

It truly was meant as just a joke. An awkward and desperate attempt at defusing a situation that had caught both of you by surprise and left you speechless. But when it left your lips that day, being met by an incredulous stare from Peter’s direction, you had no clue that it had the power to finally tip your friendship over the edge into something much more complicated. 

Things were rather awkward at first, as expected, but with time things slowly began to return to the normal. Peter would crack jokes about the comment and leave you blushing as you remembered the statement, but regardless of how mortified the jokes often left you feeling it was a good thing. Because at the very least it was a sign that things were okay with the both of you and that your friendship was safe. 

But, eventually, things started to change as that moment began to plant a seed in both of your minds, constantly drifting to the thought of all the other ways that day could have went. 

It started with lingering glances--the kind of looks that weren’t shared between two people claiming to be only friends. Glances slowly turned to light touches, his hand just happening to brush against your thigh during weekly movie nights on his couch. And soon enough it became impossible to deny that there had been a strange change in your friendship, a change that neither of you were willing to acknowledge first. 

“So what exactly is it?” Your finger ran across the string of webbing in his room, glancing over at him as you spoke. 

Peter didn’t even bother looking up at you, too engulfed on the project in front of him as he sat at his desk, attempting to tweak his web-shooters that had been giving him trouble lately. “Uh, they’re BioCable.” 

You scrunched your nose at the answer. “Which is?” 

A small sigh came from him as he realized that not everyone was quite as much of a nerd as he was. “Remember the spiders my dad worked on?” You nodded. “Well, BioCable is the silk that they produce. It’s basically just a really strong version of a normal spiders web.” 

“And how did you get your hands on it?” 

“Whatdya mean?” 

You shrugged your shoulders as you diverted your eyes back to the webbing, tugging lightly on the thin string and watching as it bounced. “Well you didn’t like... buy it, did you?” 

“Yeah?” Peter snorted at the question, clearly amused. “Didn’t really think petty theft would be a good thing to add to my super hero resume.” 

“Well, sure.” You agreed with him, however not failing to immediately respond with your own thoughts that differed from his. “But that’s not a good idea, right? Cause what if someone figures out what Spider-Man is shooting? Couldn’t they just look at past purchases then? Receipts? Cause I’m pretty sure that you’re probably the only person in New York purchasing that much of this cable stuff.” 

Your concern took a moment to register in his head, no longer messing with his web-shooters as he thought it over to himself. “That’s actually a really good point.” Peter mumbled mostly to himself, “I need to work on that.” 

His rather careless thinking made you laugh, earning you a sharp glare from his direction, Peter very obviously annoyed that you found humor in the situation. 

“I’m glad to be of service.” You teased him. “Honestly, your secret would be out in a matter of days if I weren’t around to keep you in check, Parker. Don’t know what you’d do without me!” 

“Let’s hope I never find out.” 

His comment was simple and he hadn’t even thought much of it when he said it, already focused on his web-shooters again, but the reassurance that you were important to your best friend made you smile anyways. 

The webbing had lost your interest at this point though, no longer curing your boredom as you waited for Peter to be done with his work. So you turned your attention to your backpack that you had lazily tossed against the wall on the other side of his room when you had come in, leaving Peter’s side to walk over to it. 

Winters in New York were always absolutely brutal, a fact that regularly skipped your mind every year as the season rolled around until suddenly you would find yourself with bright red lips, burning from the harsh air. 

Without very much thought, you bent over the bag and unzipped it, beginning to shuffle around the contents in search of your chapstick. You almost always kept a tube in your bag, knowing that you couldn’t stand the stinging sensation that came from the chapped skin. 

A quiet groan fell from your lips as you frustration rose, searching in vain for the pesky little tube that seemed impossible to find. 

“Do you have to do that right now?” Peter’s voice caught you off guard and left you a little confused by his rather sudden outburst over such a little inconvenience. 

“Sorry?” the word came out as more of a question than an apology, “I swear I put my chapstick back in her earlier. I was just trying to find it.” 

His tongue darted across his lips as his stare remained fixed on the sight of you digging through your bag. You heard him roughly sit his web-shooters down on the desk, the sudden sound making you jump a little as you turned to look over at him. “Here.” he grabbed a tube of cherry chapstick from his desk, tossing it in your direction, “Now you can stop.” 

You just barely managed to catch the tube against your chest, still distracted by the shift in his attitude. What had gotten into him? Sure, there was nothing fun about the annoying sounds of someone rummaging through papers, but it wasn’t like you were purposely trying to irritate him or distract him from what he was doing. 

Still lost in thought over Peter’s strange behavior you began to apply the chapstick to your lips, noticing Peter’s not at all sneaky glances that he was sending your way, making things start to click in your mind. 

Was he... Turned on? 

You wanted to shove the thought to the back of your mind. After all, it wasn’t like applying chapstick was the most erotic thing in the world, was it? And the idea of even thinking such a thing made you feel guilty, knowing that you shouldn’t even be concerning yourself with whether or not your best friend was feeling such a way. But as the gears in your head continued to turn against your will it just felt so obvious that you were right. 

Peter hadn’t become irritated with you because you were being too noisy or even that you were interrupting his concentration, because it wasn’t what he heard at all that caused his harsh tone. 

It was what he saw. 

When deciding to bend over your backpack you hadn’t really considered taking into thought your outfit choice and as you glanced down at your skirt you couldn’t help the blush that appeared on your cheeks. The skirt wasn’t unnecessarily short by any means, but there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that when you went to begin your search it had rode up just enough to give Peter a crystal clear view of what you had on beneath it. 

One glance at him was all it took to confirm the theory that you were now toying with in your mind. His cheeks were painted a very deep shade of crimson, his legs pressed together tightly as he tried desperately to focus on what he was doing. 

You knew what you should do. 

A good friend would ignore it. 

A good friend would change the subject, get his mind off it. 

A good friend might even excuse themselves! Leave him alone to... deal with the situation. 

But--at least in this situation--you had no intention of being a good friend, unable to fight the strange urge to mess with him a bit. 

“Thanks Pete.” The realization had given you a sudden confidence boost, one that certainly wasn’t going to go to waste as you walked over to him, sinking down to your knees beside his chair. “So” you flashed your most innocent smile up at him, “what’re we doin to these bad boys?” 

He tried his best to avoid looking down, ultimately failing and giving in to temptation as his gaze landed right on the sight of your cleavage peaking out from the top of your shirt. “U-uh-the webs got blocked when I was-um-out last night... which obviously... not supposed to happen.” 

You had to bite down on your bottom lip in order to suppress the urge to grin at his nervous stammer, his leg beginning to bounce uncomfortably. 

While humming in response to his struggled attempt at explaining the issue with his web-shooters to you, you tried your best to continue looking extremely invested in the conversation. Deciding to kick it up a notch and use just a little bit more of the new confidence you had gained, you planted your hands firmly against his thigh, using them to lift yourself up so you could get a better look at his web-shooters as he held them. 

“God,” Peter watched as you admired them, and you took note of just how rapid his breathing had become, “I still can’t believe that you made these. They’re incredible! I wish I was even half as smart as you! I really don’t think I could ever make something like this.” 

His breath hitched in his throat as you sunk back down to the floor, your boobs brushing against the side of his thigh as you did, the tiny bit of contact being enough to make his jeans suddenly feel a lot tighter than they were just moments before. 

“Are you really doing this right now?” Peter’s question proved what you already knew--he wasn’t stupid. He was more than aware that you were teasing him on purpose, though he definitely wasn’t complaining about the situation. 

“Doing what?” You played dumb with him, putting on your best doe-eyed expression as you looked up at his through your lashes. 

“You know exactly what you’re doing Y/N.” There was a hint of tension in his voice, though you both knew that he was far from uncomfortable with what was happening right now. If anything this was a dream come true for him, the thought of you flirting with him running through his mind ever since the day you made that stupid little joke. He wasn’t sure why but after that day he struggled to look at you the same--unable to shake the idea of seeing you in the same position that you had found him in. 

Feeling bold, you placed a hand back onto his thigh, this time coming just close enough to barely brush the side of it against the growling bulge in his pants. The sudden contact caused him to instinctively jerk his hips at the feeling, suddenly reaching down and grabbing onto your wrist but hesitating to move it from his body. 

“Okay, seriously-” Peter chuckled nervously, his eyes fluttering back and forth from your face, to your tits, to your hand, and then back to your face again, unsure where to look anymore, “what’s going on with you?” 

“Well,” you began, leaning in a little closer to him, “I noticed that it looked like you might need a little help-” as you spoke you attempted to slide your palm against his dick, the hand on your wrist tightening and preventing you from moving. “and so I just thought I should be a good friend and offer my services again.” 

Peter was hesitant to respond, taking in the words and trying to make sense of them. He couldn’t tell anymore if this was some sort of weird joke or if you were seriously making a move on him. But what he did know was that the feeling of your hand pressed against him was driving him insane. 

“So that’s what this is? Just you being a good friend?” it was his turn now to take over the teasing, stealing your sensual tone to make it his own, causing your eyes to grow wide and a tiny gasp to leave your mouth as he suddenly pressed your hand down harder against his dick. “Or are you really just that desperate to see my monster cock again?” 

As soon as the words left his mouth neither of you were capable of holding the conversation any longer, both of you being taken over by hysterics, choking from the laughter. 

“You are never gonna let me live that down, are you?” You questioned him through your giggling, “But also! I never said you had a monster cock, Pete! I said you were packing. So the trashy word choice? Is all you.” 

Peter grinned. “I mean... Either way you’re the one that decided to comment on the size of my--ya know.” 

You thought it was almost cute the way he refused to say the actual word, much too awkward to talk about what’s in his pants despite what had left his mouth just moments before. 

“I didn’t even get a good look at it.” you defended. “So don’t flatter yourself. Might not be anywhere near what I thought, ya know? Coulda been an angle thing or something.” 

Peter hesitated after your words, suddenly realizing that your hand was still resting in his lap. He took a moment before he spoke, knowing that whatever came out of his mouth next had the power to drastically change your relationship, but finally mustering the courage to speak. 

I had fallen in love with Peter Parker long before the existence of Spider-Man. 

If I could make a list of all the amazing things about Peter that had stolen my heart it would be never-ending. The feelings I had for him were something that I was incapable of putting into words, constantly trying and failing with every single day, but never giving up on trying to let him know just how captivating his entire existence was in my eyes. 

Before he became Spider-Man he had never quite believed me when I would go off on my little rants, sharing all of the things about him that had caused me to fall madly in love with his dorky self. He would always respond only with a laugh, shaking his head at my words and calling me crazy under his breath. And then Spider-Man came along. 

After Spider-Man things changed.

He no longer laughed at the words left my lips. He didn’t jokingly make fun of me or shrug off my words. And now when he would shake his head I could see nothing but pain and guilt in his eyes. Yet, what hurt the most, was that I knew now he certainly didn’t believe a single praise that fell from my lips. 

Sometimes it felt like New York had robbed me of my love. 

They got to see the carefree superhero. The one swinging around from buildings, offering high fives and cracking jokes as he saved them from anyone that dared to try to do them wrong. God I was so happy--happy that people loved Spider-Man. Happy that people loved Peter. But every time I had to watch him slip the mask over his face I realized that it came with much more than either of us had bargained for. 

Loving Peter had quickly become a fight that he refused to let me win. And he was constantly trying to prove it. 

Peter didn’t budge at the sound of his bedroom door pushing open, knowing that it was me without ever looking up. He sat in silence on his bed, uttering not one single greeting as he kept his head buried in his knees. 

Nights like this had become common for us since the creation of Spider-Man. After several missed calls and missed texts I would always find myself walking in the direction of his house, even if I hadn’t set out with the goal of ending up there, desperately knocking on the door and hoping that May would let me in. 

“I called.” 

“I know.” his voice was muffled as he continued to hide his face. 

“You didn’t answer.” 

There was no response this time, though I knew Peter well enough to know that the apology was there even if he never actually spoke it into existence. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to answer me. It was that he thought it would be better if he didn’t. 

I pushed his door shut before slowly making my way over to his bed, sinking down on the mattress beside him and placing a hand on his back, feeling him tense up at the sensation. “I missed you Pete.” I told him, my hand rubbing gentle circles on his back, knowing that it was the part of his body he complained about hurting the most since his recent vigilante activities began. “You should have at least texted. I was worried.” 

“I’m sorry.” A sigh left his lips as he finally lifted his head, running his hands through his already messy hair. “I wanted to. Promise.” 

I nodded. “I know you did.” 

Peter’s head turned to face me, meeting my gaze for the first time since I had entered his room unannounced. The pained expression on his face was enough to make my heart drop, tears glistening in his eyes. 

“I can’t do this anymore Y/N.” His voice cracked as he spoke, and I knew the words just as painful for him to say as they were for me to hear. 

“Pete I’m okay.” I reminded him

A part of me had known this moment was coming, my mind flashing back to that moment on top of Oscorp. Peter had told me to leave, told me to get out of the building the moment that he realized Dr. Connors was heading my way. But I stayed anyways. I stayed because I knew that someone had to get the serum to him. But in the process I began the slow and bitter process of losing my best friend. 

The look of terror that washed over his face when he saw me was still burned into my mind. I remember crying out his name, desperate to get his attention and snap him out of the shock that had taken him over, but he didn’t hear me. He barely saw me. All he saw was red. The sight of blood pouring from the deep cuts littering my body from where Dr. Connors had grabbed me. 

And it was then that we both truly knew how much danger I was in because of him being Spider-Man. 

“Next time you might not be.” his voice sounded so small, so filled with desperation that it made me want to throw my arms around him and hold him for as long as he would let me. “I’m not gonna let you get hurt Y/N. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if anything happened to you.” 

“Nothings going to happen to me.” I placed my hands gently on the sides of his face, leaning forward to rest my forehead against his as I tried to reassure him. 

“You don’t know that.” 

I had seen this look in his eyes so many times lately. This look of pure fear that nothing had managed to erase. But, this time, it was even worse. 

“Do I not get a say in this?” I hesitated before asking the question, knowing that the answer wasn’t going to be the one I wanted. 

“I love you.” Peter responded as he reached up to pull my hands from his face, holding them tightly in his own. “And that’s exactly why I need to stay away from you.” 

I pulled my hands from his grasp, fighting back the tears that were beginning to pool in my eyes. “And what do you think you gain from that Pete? How do you think that’s going to protect me? How does us not being together save me from ever getting hurt?” 

“You know that being with me is danger-” 

“Being alive is dangerous.” My anger dripped off of each word, trying my hardest to channel it in an effort to stop myself from breaking down in front of him. “And if you honestly think that breaking up with me will save me from literally anything then you are ridiculous.” 

He didn’t speak, not yet, watching as I stormed to his closet and flung the door open, grabbing his mask in my fist and going to shove it in his face. “Ever since this you have done nothing but try over and over again to break my heart Parker. To push me away. And I’m not going to let you.” 

Peter tore his eyes from me--tore his eyes from the mask. “I can’t lose you.” 

“And hopefully you never will.” I dropped down to my knees in front of the bed, forcing him to look at me. “But it would be so much better to lose me than to be so afraid of losing something you love that you stop loving at all.” 

With no warning he reached out and grabbed hold of me, hoisting me up so I was back on the bed with him, his arms wrapped around me so tight that I could just barely breathe and yet I still couldn’t help but relax against the warmth of his body. 

“I don’t wanna have to live without you.” Pete mumbled against my shoulder, placing several small kisses against it after the words left his lips. 

If it weren’t for Peter then I would have failed chemistry a long, long time ago. 

This was a fact that I was reminded of every Friday night when the two of us would hole up in his room with a collection of all of the Parker families best snacks and way more flashcards than anyone would ever want to see. 

Peter had essentially made it his own personal mission to help me pass chemistry after listening to me whine about getting an F on the first test of the semester. That was honestly just the kind of person he was, overly caring and always willing to do anything he could to be the most helpful person in the room. That was one of the many things that I loved about my boyfriend. However, the one thing I hated? Was having to study for several long and painful hours with very few breaks. 

“Pete!” I groaned, throwing my head back dramatically, “We’ve been going for like, two hours straight now! And I still just barely understand what you’re talking about. Can we please stop for a second?” 

Peter frowned at me from the desk chair where he sat, still holding the flashcard up. “C’mon Y/N! You know this!” he encouraged. “You just gotta tell me at what pH the equivalence point lies for a weak strong-acid base titration!” 

I stared blankly at him, my brain not even comprehending a single word that had just left his mouth. “7?” 

“Wha-7? What? No. The answer is slightly basic.” The confused look taking over his features was enough to make me smile. “Where did you even get 7?” 

I shrugged my shoulders at him, using my hands to push myself up off the ground where I had been sitting this whole time, stretching slightly. “I don’t know Pete! I mean, my brain is literally rotting. So that? Was the only answer I could come up with.” 

He just jokingly rolled his eyes in response, turning slightly in the chair so that he could place the flashcards face down on his desk. 

One of the few good things that had come from me failing chemistry and being forced to suffer through these study sessions was all the extra time I got to spend with him. While I would have preferred doing anything other than studying, I still was just happy to take all of the quality time that I could get with him. Ever since he got bit by that spider our alone time had been cut down significantly, so if studying was one of the only times I could enjoy his presence then I would happily take it. 

“Ten minutes, ok? Then we really need to get back to it. Don’t forget about your test next week.” Peter reminded me, pointing his index finger in my face and pretending to scold me. 

“Okay, dad.” 

“So what do you want to do with your break then?” He asked as he absentmindedly swiveled his chair around, his eyes focusing in on the bag of gummy bears laying on the ground. “Snack?” 

I shook my head at him, a playful grin now pulling at my lips. I walked towards him, placing my hands on the arms of his chair and leaning in until I was barely an inch away from his face. “I think I’ve got a better idea.” My voice came out low, my lips just slightly brushing against his as I spoke. 

Peter swallowed, quickly nodding his head, “I think I like this idea.” 

“Thought you would.” 

Carefully, I positioned myself in Peter’s lap, his hands resting on my hips and helping to guide me into place. He slowly reached up and brushed my hair out of my face, tucking it gently behind my ear and letting his fingers fall down the side of my neck, fingertips lightly tracing against my skin as he leaned in. His nose bumped against mine, and with both of us still inexperienced and used to making these little mistakes we just let out a small laugh before his lips finally found their way to mine. 

Kissing Peter was something that I never got tired of. A familiar warmth blooming in my chest as I felt him run his hand down my back, finally coming to a stop as it lightly grazed against my butt, a bit of confidence eventually kicking in as he began to grip it in his hand, a low moan escaping his lips. 

Butterflies would still flutter in my stomach as he kissed me, his lips so incredibly soft against my own and his tongue shyly tracing against my bottom lip, begging for me to part them. His kiss tasted slightly sour, remnants of the candy he had been eating during studying still prominent, but I didn’t mind as his tongue slipped inside my mouth. 

I brought my hands up to his head, my fingers instantly becoming tangled in his dark hair. I tightened my grip on it, tugging at it just a bit, knowing that the sensation was always enough to really start to drive him crazy. And it definitely did the trick, his own hands now moving to my hips and dragging me down even further against his own, slowly moving me so that I was grinding against him. 

As I felt something begin to press against the side of my thigh I broke away from him, “Thought we needed to get back to studying?” I teased. 

“Shut up.” his head fell onto my shoulder so his lips were brushing against my ear as he spoke. “It can wait a little longer.” 

Satisfied with his answer I let one of my hands fall from his hair, placing my hand over the bulge in his jeans, earning a small whine from him at the feeling. He began peppering kisses along the side of my neck, occasionally running his tongue over the skin, sucking gently as I moved my fingers up to undo his jeans. 

Peter lifted us both slightly, allowing me just enough room to be able to wiggle his jeans and boxers down just a touch, just enough to be able to give him the sort of physical touch he wanted right now, wrapping my hand around his dick and watching as his head instinctively fell back, his teeth digging into his bottom lip. 

It had been several weeks since we had sex, every moment constantly being interrupted by either schoolwork, his aunt knocking on the door, or Spider-Man duties, meaning that the both of us were very touch starved at this point and I knew that he was just as desperate as I was. 

I pulled my hand away from him for just a moment--much to Peter’s dismay--as I licked my hand, giving just enough moisture to be able to slide it up and down his length with ease. A low groan escaped his throat at the new feeling of my hand tightly wrapped around his dick, my thumb occasionally circling around the tip as I watched him clench his eyes shut even tighter. 

After just a few short minutes of me stroking his dick, he roughly grabbed my wrist, stopping me from moving it any more. “Off.” his other hand tugged at my shorts. I happily obliged with his demands, lifting myself off his lap enough for him to help me remove the articles of clothing despite the rather awkward position. 

Quickies were not a common thing for the two of us. 

Peter preferred to take his time when it came to sex--usually stopping to worship each and every inch of my body, his lips coming into contact with every bit of skin they could find. And of course I loved the way it felt, his tongue mapping out my entire body until he eventually found his way to the one place we both needed him to be, but right now? I knew I wouldn’t be able to sit through all of that and neither would he. 

I needed Peter Parker and I needed him right now. 

His hand was guiding his length, slowly dragging it back and forth along my slit, taking in the sight in front of him. His gaze met mine, just barely pressing against my entrance, waiting for confirmation that it was ok to keep going. My hands rested on his shoulders, slowly sinking down on his cock, moaning rather loudly at the sensation. 

“Quiet princess,” Peter remarked, “wouldn’t want May to hear and interrupt, yeah?” 

The use of the nickname certainly wasn’t helping me stay quiet and he knew that--knowing that the moment he used it I would be absolute putty in his hands. He gripped my hips tightly, slowly helping to guide me up and down his length, a series of quiet curses leaving his beautiful lips. 

Peter and I had been together for a while now and we had been having sex for months, and yet I still wasn’t used to just how amazing he felt. He stretched me out perfectly, always managing to hit all of the right spots without even trying. It honestly wasn’t shocking--everything about him was perfect, so of course his dick was just as fucking amazing. 

As I settled into a rhythm with riding him he moved one of his hands from my hips, letting it venture underneath my shirt--which we hadn’t removed yet--and began squeezing at my tits and pinching at my nipples. 

“You feel so good baby...” His breathing was quick, his words coming out rather strangled, and I knew that he was struggling to hold on after going so long without, trying desperately to hold on and help me reach my own orgasm. 

I placed my hand under his chin, gently lifting it so that his eyes were looking into mine. “It’s ok-” I assured him, not wanting to make him wait any longer. “I just want you to cum inside of me, Pete. Please.” 

The sight of me begging from on top of him while asking for him to cum inside of me was obviously enough to drive him over the edge. His thrusts became quicker, sloppier, his hands still trying to guide me so that I was meeting his hips with each thrust. 

“Fuck y/n.” Pete breathed out, burying his face in the crook of my neck once more, biting down on the sensitive skin as he emptied himself inside of me, various ungodly noises escaping his lips as he continued to move my hips against him. 

I ran my fingers through his hair, my other hand lightly brushing against his arm as he came down. 

“You’re amazing, you know that?” Peter asked me with a light chuckle, still out of breath as he leaned back to look at me. 

I kissed his forehead in response, watching as his cheeks turned a light shade of pink. Here we were, sitting almost fully naked in his desk chair with his dick inside of me and yet that is what managed to make him blush. Typical Peter. 

“Guess it’s time to get back to studying, huh?” I reminded him jokingly. 

He couldn’t tell them what had happened. 

He couldn’t tell them what he did. 

Or at least not yet. He wasn’t ready to see the expressions of disappointment and sadness flash across the faces of his friends. He wasn’t ready to stand in front of a room full of everyone he loved the most and tell them that he had completely changed every single one of their lives; for better or for worse. 

Besides, there was no way that he was going to bring this up to them until he could figure out just how much damage changing the timeline had caused. So far he had accounted for almost all of the members of Team Flash and was still in the process of making a mental list of how he had changed their lives in this new timeline, but there was still one person that was missing from his list of friends. Y/N. 

“Ayo,” Cisco called out from across the lab, throwing a crumpled ball of paper at Barry’s head, “Earth to Flash!” 

He glanced up from the floor where he had been zoning out, too busy caught up in his own head and trying to figure out where to go from here. “What’s up?” 

Cisco gave him a rather concerned look, obviously confused by how spacey his friend had been lately. “Did you forget why we even called you here?” He asked. 

“Oh, yeah.” Barry replied, shaking his head as a sort of attempt to get all of the dreaded timeline thoughts out of his mind. “I’m supposed to be dealing with some meta in the pipeline, right?” Cisco nodded, confirming Barry’s statement. “And why do I have to talk to them again?” 

Barry wasn’t used to being the one dealing with all of the metas they caught. Unless it was something urgent or some end-of-the-world type of deal, he usually just caught them and stuffed them in the pipeline, a bit too busy to deal with the time consuming part of questioning them. 

“Dude. You literally already know why.” Cisco said, clearly thinking that the answer to Barry’s question was beyond obvious. But, seeing the confusion washing over his friends face, Cisco continued, “It’s the chick that robbed the bank a few days ago. She refuses to talk to any of us, she just keeps asking for you.” 

Barry nodded to show that he had taken in the information before quickly speeding into his suit and making his way towards the pipeline. He knew that Cisco could tell something was wrong. After all, it wasn’t like he was doing a very good job at hiding it with out of it he had been lately. But it was impossible for him to try to focus on what was going on around him when he hadn’t even managed to track her down yet. 

Had she never been a part of his life in this timeline? A part of the Team? Did she even live in Central City in this timeline? Did she even exist in this timeline? 

He quickly pushed that thought out of his head. He couldn’t afford to think like that yet. He couldn’t let himself even entertain the thought of her not being here anymore. 

And, as if it were some cruel joke being played by some higher being, he immediately found himself face-to-face with the answer to the terrible question that had been plaguing his mind. 

Luckily, he hadn’t wiped her from existence. 

Unfortunately, however, she was currently the meta that Cisco told him was locked in the pipeline. 

Barry rubbed his eyes roughly, trying to get his head straight as he looked at the cell in front of him. There’s no way, he thought to himself, taking in the sight of Y/N sitting crosslegged in the center of the cell, looking just the same as she had a few days ago back before he had changed the timeline. 

“It’s about time.” Y/N chuckled, rising to her feet at the sight of him entering the room. “I was starting to think you would never show. It’s rude to keep a girl waiting, ya know.” 

“I-um.” Barry struggled to form words, still in disbelief that the person he had been searching for had been almost literally right under his nose this whole time. “Sorry about that.” 

Y/N scrunched her nose, tilting her head to the side slightly at his behavior. “So?” 

Barry stared at her, stepping closer and closer to the cell until he was right in front of it. It was once he was standing right across from her that he realized how confused she looked. 

“You just gonna leave me in these or..” Y/N trailed as she lifted her arms up to display the meta-dampeners around her wrists. 

“I mean..” Barry motioned to the cell, still struggling to take in the fact that she was really here. And a meta? “Kinda seems to me like you did something to deserve being in here.” 

She scoffed at his statement, dropping her hands back in front of her. “Oh please. Now is not the time for flirting, Flash.” She scolded him, a teasing tone to her voice that continued to add to Barry’s growing confusion. “You’ve already left me down here for two days which is much longer than last time. I would say that it’s time for you to go ahead and let me out and start planning your oh-so-brilliant story of how I managed to escape.” 

Wait... Barry thought to himself as all the pieces of the puzzle began to slowly fall into place, Flirting? Let her out? Do I... Help her? 

The thought wasn’t terribly shocking to him. To be fair, it was just a couple of days ago that the two of them were snuggled up in Barry’s bed watching terrible baking shows together on Netflix and fighting over who got to eat the last honey-bun. She was the one person that Barry loved more than anyone else, and he knew from experience that there was nothing that he wouldn’t do for her. But this timeline changed things, didn’t it? Y/N was a meta now, and clearly not a good one if she had been caught by them and stuffed in the pipeline. So, despite the fact that he wanted to be relieved that some semblance of their relationship had survived the changing timeline, he also felt conflicted. 

“Flash?” Y/N spoke, noticing that he had zoned out for about the millionth time that day. 

“How many times have you been down here?” He managed to choke the words out, trying to get back some sense of composure. 

“Well...” she flashed a grin at him, one that made his heart stop in his chest, “Technically three.” Y/N told him as she proudly lifted her cuffed wrists back up, holding up three fingers at the speedster, “But in my opinion? Only two.” she dropped one finger. “Seeing as though I let you catch me last time.” 

Barry furrowed his brows at the girl. “Let me?” he repeated. 

"C’mon Flash.” Y/N groaned and threw her head back in frustration. “I don’t know what kind of game you are playing here but I am more than ready to be out of these cuffs now. I don’t have time to sit here and recount how I let you live out that little fantasy of yours.” 

His eyes widened slightly. “Fantasy?” 

“Okay, seriously? You’re the one that kept mentioning that stupid dream of yours for days about catching me and screwing me in the cell.” 

Fuck. 

He realized then that obviously more than just a bit of their relationship had survived the timeline change. Actually, a fair bit of their relationship was apparently intact with the one very major problem being that the love of his life was now going around Central City robbing banks. 

“Your powers,” Barry began, trying to move past her previous statement despite the fact that he could feel his face burning under his mask. “do you hurt people?” 

Y/N looked offended by his question, confused, and equally hurt. “What the hell is wrong with you?” When he didn’t respond she decided to answer anyways despite her irritation. “No, Barry.” So she knows my identity? “And you already know that. I’ve never once used my powers to hurt anyone and don’t plan on changing that anytime soon. You also know exactly why I’m doing what I do. And you also should have let me out of these cuffs yesterday!” with each word that left her lips her frustration became clearer and clearer. “And I’m getting real tired of entertaining whatever it is you’ve got going on here. You’re all spacey and weird and acting like you don’t know a single thing about me-” 

She stopped talking. She closed her eyes for a moment, and Barry was honestly concerned as to where this conversation would go next. What was she doing? What was she thinking? 

“Barry...” she finally spoke, her eyes opening back up and looking at him, her gaze much softer than it was before. “What did you do?” 

Despite everything that was clearly different about their relationship now in this timeline compared to the one he came from he still found himself breaking down in front of her. Breaking down at the feeling of familiarity that he had been craving ever since he changed the timeline. “I really messed up, Y/N.” He admitted, voice cracking as he spoke. “I messed things up for all of you.” 

Y/N frowned at the sight of him, noticing the tears that were welling up in the speedsters eyes. “Hey,” she began as she reached up and placed both hands against the cell, trying her best to comfort him, “we can fix it, ok? Whatever it is we can fix it.” Barry swallowed hard, placing his own hand against the glass where hers rested. “But first?” Y/N offered a small smile, “You really need to let me out of this cell. I don’t know if I am gonna be much help in here.” 

Barry didn’t necessarily know if he could completely trust her. Obviously she seemed to think he could, and apparently he was supposed to know things about this version of Y/N that would make all his hesitation in trusting her melt away, but a small part of him still felt conflicted about what the right choice was in this situation given the information he did have on her. But all it really took was one more glance into her eyes and he knew that he would let her out. It wasn’t even his choice to make. He would always do whatever he could to help her, no matter who’s side she might be on. 

And so, he opened the cell and walked over to her, removing the cuffs from her wrists. A small part of him expected her to do something, anything, to show him that he had made a mistake and that maybe the Y/N from this timeline was nothing more than the evil meta that Cisco seemed to think she might be. But instead something different happened as she was freed from the confines of the cuffs. She threw her arms around Barry’s neck and pulled him in to her body. At first he was surprised by her actions, but as the scent of her familiar perfume filled his nose he found himself relaxing into her, feeling a sense of home for the first time in what felt like it had been years. 

“Whatever it is-whatever happened-we will fix it, ok?” She whispered against his ear, the warmth of her breath against his neck just making him squeeze her tighter. 

Y/N leaned back slightly, her arms still around his neck as she looked him in the eyes. “I promise you that everything will be fine.” 

And without hesitation, without any sort of warning, she kissed him. The passion filled, soft-lipped sort of kissing that you don’t just share with a casual fling--and if any part of him still held reservations about what exactly their relationship was in this new timeline, it was slowly being washed away as she tangled her fingers in his hair, a moment so consumed in raw emotion that all of his anxiety about his friends or the timeline or her began to wash away. 

Dry spells were a very common thing in relationships. 

Or that is at least what several articles on the Internet had told me. I had thought that doing some research and seeing that it was a perfectly normal thing for most couples would make me feel just a little bit better about it or at least make dealing with it easier; boy... I couldn’t have been more wrong. 

To Peter’s credit it certainly wasn’t due to lack of trying, but time was very rarely on our side and that meant that I had spent a lot of late nights lately taking care of myself after Peter got called away to go be a hero again, a fact that made neither of us very happy. 

So tonight we decided something that seemed simple in theory: No interruptions. 

No talk of school deadlines, no stressing over what happened at work, and most importantly? No jumping out of the bedroom window clad in spandex off to save the city. New York was just going to have to do without Spider-Man for a night, and taking one night off from being a superhero didn’t seem like such a bad idea. 

That is until Peter’s phone began incessantly chiming as soon as his face disappeared between my thighs, that stupid app he had on his phone alerting him of the cities desperate need for Spider-Man. So there went Spider-Man’s day off, ending just as quickly as it began, leaving me all alone for what felt like the millionth night in a row. 

“I am so sorry.” Were the first words out of his mouth as he climbed through the window, mask in hand. 

“It’s fine.” 

Of course it wasn’t fine. But it also wasn’t his fault, so there was no need to make him feel any worse about his responsibilities than he already did. 

“There’s always next time, right?” I hoped the comment might make him feel at least a little bit better or at least reassure him that I wasn’t upset with him, but I could tell from the defeated look on his face that he was still beating himself up over the fact that yet another romantic night had gotten messed up because of Spider-Man. 

“This sucks.” Peter sighed, holding his mask up slightly and pointing at it, “This guy? Is constantly ruining things lately.” 

I couldn’t help but laugh at his statement. “At least it’s for a good cause.” 

“Well, sure-” He frowned at my words, “but it sucks. Because every time we start to... ya know-something happens and I have to leave. And I never get the chance to make it up to you because he is always busy.” Peter walked to the foot of the bed, roughly plopping down on it beside my feet. “He is the one that should have to make it up to you anyways since he’s the one ruining things all the time.” 

As soon as the words left his mouth I could see his entire face change as he looked over his shoulder at me, the gears inside his brain slowly turning as a new thought entered his brain. After a moment his expression quickly changed, an expression that was much darker than the one he was previously wearing. 

“What?” I hesitantly asked, unsure as to where this was about to go. 

“I keep trying to make all of our lost time up to you when it’s not my fault that we keep getting interrupted.” Peter began to speak, an adorable smirk tugging at his lips. 

“Pete I know it’s not your fault! People need you and I completely understa-” He quickly crawled further up on the bed, placing a gloved finger against my lips to hush me. 

“Stop talking.” Pete spoke in a demanding tone, one that he very seldom used with me. I watched him as his finger fell from my mouth, slowly sliding his mask back over his face until I was no longer staring into his beautiful brown eyes, now looking directly at the white patches on his mask. “I think it’s about time that Spider-Man gave you a little apology, don’t you think?” 

I didn’t respond to his question, simply raising a brow at him and trying to figure out what the hell he was on about. 

He tugged on the hem of my shirt--or, rather, his shirt. “Take it off.” 

I was hesitant to comply, still unsure of the entire situation that was now slowly unfolding in front of me. Sex with Peter was never quite vanilla by any means, but seeing him in front of me, all sense of familiarity being lost behind the red and blue suit clinging to his skin made the situation feel so different than any other time. 

I began to remove the fabric from my body, deciding it was best to see where this little idea of his was going to take us, and then suddenly I felt his finger hook around the elastic waistband of my pajama shorts. “Don’t think you’re gonna need these either.” He muttered, pulling them down my legs in a swift motion before I had even gotten my shirt over my head. 

The cool New York air was blowing in from the window that he had carelessly left open, causing me to shiver slightly as it brushed against my now mostly bare body. Peter hummed at the sight of my nipples hardening from the cold, wasting no time as he began to lightly pinch them beneath his fingers. 

His fingers only toyed with my breasts for a moment before he stopped touching me, and I knew he loved the whine that escaped my lips at the loss of contact. He carefully went to lift his mask, revealing just the lower portion of his face before bringing his hand up to his mouth and biting down on the glove to pull it off. 

“So pretty.” He mused, his now bare hand going right back to massaging my tits, the warmth of his skin feeling amazing against my body. “You’re so cold.” he leaned forward, hovering over my chest, “Need me to warm you up?” 

I could only muster up a noise in response, nodding my head at him. A part of me was embarrassed for already being this worked up when he had barely even touched me yet, but it had been weeks since I had really been able to enjoy the feeling of his body pressed against mine, so I had every intention on soaking up each second of this. 

Peter began pressing light kisses across my chest, one hand still touching my breast as the other lightly gripped at my waist, helping him balance himself. The sensation of his tongue running across my skin sent shivers up my spine, and once he reached my nipple he bit down on it, knowing that he would get another moan to escape my lips by doing so. 

“Fuck Pete-” I breathed out as his tongue circled the sensitive area. 

“No.” he spoke after giving my nipple one last bite, removing his hands from my body altogether now. “I don’t wanna hear that name coming from your lips again, ok sweetheart? It’s my turn with you tonight.” he tugged the mask back down over his lips and I realized just how far he was going to take this. “And I know exactly what I wanna do with you.” 

I noticed now just how worked up he was--realizing that the past several weeks without sex had obviously impacted him just as much--as his dick was now bulging through the tight constraints of his suit. “Whatdya say princess?” Pete-Spider-Man asked, grabbing my hand and guiding it to the lower half of his suit, urging me to take it off of him. “Wanna help out a local hero?” 

He didn’t wait for an answer, not even a reaction, his hand still ghosting over the top of mine and helping me pull the bottoms of his suit down. His dick sprung free from its confines, and even though I had seen him naked dozens of times now I still found myself biting down on my lip, taking him in. His size had never failed to leave me drooling over him, but it was clear that the weeks of being neglected had also taken their toll on him, pre-cum already leaking out of the tip before I had even touched him. 

I didn’t need to wait for any more of his demands--I didn’t want to wait, desperate to feel him throbbing against my tongue. 

His head lolled back as I placed my hand on the base of his dick, just as touch-deprived as I was. I traced the underside of his dick with my tongue, slowly making my way to the tip. He had always been a sucker for blowjobs, always saying that my lips were one of his favorite features. And so I knew the moment that I reached his swollen tip that his eyes were going to be back on me, watching as I slowly wrapped my lips around it.

The mask had clearly given him a sudden surge of confidence, the added appeal of him fucking my mouth under the guise’ of his secret identity had revealed a dominance that he had never shown me before. His hand suddenly found its home on the back of my head as his fingers tangled themselves in my hair, impatience getting the best of him as he thrusted forward hard. A deep groan came from above me as he hit the back of my throat, not loosening his grip on my hair even as I gagged around his length. 

He continued to guide me up and down his length at his own pace, just barely letting me stop for air as he ruthlessly fucked my throat. 

“Fuck baby-” his voice was shaky, the words being followed by a series of moans as he tried to push himself further into my mouth, “I needed this so fucking bad.” he tightened his grip on my hair, ignoring my muffled yelp at the feeling. 

I could tell that he was close as moans continued to pour from his mouth, his movements becoming sloppy as he used me, but suddenly he jerked my head away from his dick, leaving me gasping for air with saliva trailing down my chin. “Not ready to cum yet.” He told me, his hands pressed firmly against my chest as he shoved me back onto the bed, “I’ve been dreaming about being inside your pussy for weeks.” he was leaning over me once again now, and I could feel his breath through the thin material of his mask as he spoke. 

He moved back, his hands running along my thighs and giving them a rough squeeze. “So,” he ran a finger along the waistband of my panties, just barely sliding himself underneath it, “you gonna show that pretty little pussy to your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man?” 

I would have never imagined that the thought of being fucked by Spider-Man would be so hot--I mean, fuck hadn’t I already been fucking Spider-Man?--yet looking at the masked man in front of me and hearing the filthy words coming from his mouth... It was enough to have me absolutely soaked. 

Nodding desperately I tried to reach down and shimmy myself out of my panties, earning a small slap on the hand. 

“Nuh-uh-” Spider-Man corrected me, “Good girls are patient. And you wanna be a good girl, don’t you baby?” I whined, nodding once more and getting yet another firm slap, this time over the fabric of my panties, making me hiss at the sudden contact with the part of me that needed him the most. “Good girls use their words.” he chided, lightly rubbing the area he had just slapped, soothing the stinging sensation that still lingered. “Tell me what you want.” 

“You.” I struggled to get the words out, desperate to finally feel him, but that answer clearly wasn’t good enough as I heard him tsk. “Fuck me, Spider-Man.”

Satisfied with the response he was given he quickly removed my panties and tossed them off to the side, once again lifting his mask to reveal his perfectly plump lips, his tongue darting across them as he admired my bare pussy. He traced his finger along my slit, admiring how wet he had made me, stopping at my clit and rubbing small circles against it. 

“Someone’s excited.” He teased with a small laugh, a hint of his typical Peter Parker personality shining through in the midst of his new dominant persona. 

“Please,” I begged him, my gaze locked on the sight of his hand wrapped around his dick, watching as he stroked himself while continuing to rub my clit with the other. “I need Spider-Man.” 

Peter smirked at the words as they left my mouth, continuing to take the utmost amount of pleasure from listening to me beg for the man he was every time he slid the mask over his head. He replaced his fingers with his dick now, dragging it along my wetness tantalizingly slow, savoring the moment. 

“That’s all you had to say.” 

The tip of his dick was pressed firmly at my entrance, his hand still wrapped around himself as he started to slowly push himself inside of me, his mouth falling open and profanities slipping out as he felt my walls tightening around him. I had missed this--missed him--so much more than I had even thought; my eyes squeezing shut as he slowly stretched me out. 

My mind began to race, knowing that neither of us were going to last long but desperate to feel him fuck me with the same assertive attitude that had ruled over him throughout the rest of this experience. 

But--before he even had the chance to sink the rest of his length inside of me--his stupid fucking phone started to go off. 

Peter was the first one to complain, letting out a very loud and frustrated groan. 

“Did we seriously just get cock-blocked by New York?” I questioned as his phone continued to go off in the background. 

“Yeah.” He pulled himself away from me, trying to find a way to adjust himself in the rather tight spandex pants, his erection still very evident. “I think we did.” 

Peter grabbed his phone, quickly glancing at the alert before putting it away, pulling his mask back down over the rest of his face. “Promise to make it up to you later?” 

“I don’t know,” I contemplated, shooting him my best cheeky grin as he made his way back over to the window.

Sleepovers weren’t exactly an uncommon thing for them. 

After all, they had been best friends for years now. Where one went the other was always following close behind, one right after the other. But in the past the sleepovers had always been more of a fun thing, a planned movie marathon filled with junk food and Star Wars. Or sometimes they were just happy accidents, one of them happening to fall asleep on the others bed and neither wanting to leave the comfort of the sheets wrapped around their bodies. They weren’t like that anymore though. They were almost a necessity now--both of them knowing that neither would be capable of sleeping without the other nearby. 

When Peter became Spider-Man they both thought that it was this amazing thing; who wouldn’t love being or knowing a real life superhero? As time continued to pass they began to realize all of the baggage that came with him putting on that mask. All of the trauma. All of the loss. 

Peter had been through so much. Nights spent bleeding out on your bed and wondering if he would heal before he bled out. Memories of falling off of buildings or being injured by whoever(or whatever) he was fighting. And then there was the guilt. The overwhelming soul crushing guilt. 

He would never get used to watching his best friend suffer due to his new secret identity, constantly shoving you in harms way no matter how hard he tried to avoid it. The countless encounters with death as you found yourself stumbling right in the middle of danger, each time making him feel like he was getting closer and closer to losing you. 

And even with all of that aside, there was also the guilt that came from knowing all that you had lost from knowing him. 

Tonight was one of the nights where that guilt weighed heavily on him. 

It was the 6 month anniversary of your mother’s death, a casualty during one of Spider-Man’s fights. A death that he knew he would never be able to forgive himself for failing to prevent, even if it wasn’t truly his fault. 

“You’ve gotta be more careful.” You spoke lightly, eyes focused in on the cut on Peter’s abdomen, dabbing a cloth against it to try to clean up some of the blood. “Otherwise I’m gonna be really pissed when you stain my new comforter.” 

Peter winced at the pressure being applied to the tender skin. “Don’t worry, next time I’m stopping a carjacker I’ll be sure to avoid getting stabbed only for the sake of your comforter.” 

"That’s very thoughtful.” You teased, placing the cloth on the bedside table and pulling open the drawer to reveal the numerous first aid items you kept on hand for Peter’s late night trips to your room. 

He sat in silence as she unwrapped one of the several large bandages, placing it over the wound and carefully smoothing it out as best you could without hurting him. His eyes stayed glued to you as you stood up, collecting the trash from the bandages and grabbing the bloody cloth, walking to the other side of your room to throw everything away and get rid of any evidence that you were Spider-Man’s personal nurse. 

“How are you holding up?” He had debated on whether or not he should even ask the question, but it fell out of his mouth before he could even decide if it was a good thing to ask. 

You hadn’t spoke much of your mothers death since it had happened. At first you were a mess, as expected, but after a couple of weeks you just stopped. Stopped crying. Stopped hiding away in your room. Stopped talking. And it was impossible for Peter to fight the thought creeping around in the back of his head that maybe you were avoiding it because you didn’t want him to feel bad--or responsible--for causing the pain that you were in. 

You turned to face him, offering a small smile. “I’m okay, Pete. Honest.” 

He cocked an eyebrow at you, making it clear that he still didn’t quite believe the claims. “You sure?” 

Nodding in response, not saying a single word, you walked back over to the bed and pulled the covers back, quickly sinking into them. 

“Alright-” Peter raised his hands up in defeat, “Just remember I’m here for you. Always.” 

“Thank you.” 

“That’s what best friends are for.” 

You lifted the blankets on the other side of the bed, patting at the mattress. “Now come lay down. It’s like, one am, and I don’t know about you but I am exhausted.” 

Peter didn’t bother speaking another word, knowing that even if he had the perfect thing to say it wasn’t going to make you feel any better right now and it wouldn’t make you open up to him. So instead he carefully crawled towards the top of the bed and slid underneath the blankets beside her. 

He felt like he had just barely been asleep when he was already being woken up by a strange gasping sound. Leaning up slightly in the bed, propping himself up on his elbows, he turned to glance at Y/N through squinted eyes. The sight was enough to make his heart break instantly. 

You were practically curled into a ball, your arms tightly wrapped around your body and your face stained with tears. As far as Peter could tell you were still asleep, and clearly you were still suffering from a bad dream. 

This was why the sleepovers had become such a necessity for the both of you. It seemed one of you was constantly taking turns taking care of the other as they woke up in another fit of terror, plagued by all of the traumatic things that had happened to you lately. 

Peter bit down on his lower lip, trying his best to fight back that wave of guilt that began to build up in his chest. He shoved the thoughts back as best he could, scooting a little closer to you and pulling your body into his arms, bringing one of his hands up to gently brush your hair out of your face. “It’s ok,” he whispered against your ear, trying to quietly wake you from whatever nightmare you were stuck in, “I’m right here, okay? I’m here, Y/N. You’re safe.” 

He continued to reassure you, his lips lightly brushing against you as he spoke, until eventually he felt your body begin to relax as you started to wake up. 

“What was it this time?” 

You were barely fully conscious, your hands quickly reaching to grab Peter’s arm as it was stroking your hair, bringing it to your waist and practically forcing him to hold onto you a little tighter. “Hey,” Pete spoke again, a comforting smile on his face as he squeezed you, “you’re safe. You know I’m not gonna let anything hurt you, Y/N.” 

“I know.” 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” 

That was the usual routine when this happened. You would usually both stay up talking about what had happened in the dream, the other one trying to find ways to ease the fear that it had caused until eventually the conversation would shift to something else entirely, putting them both at ease until you’d fall back asleep in each others arms. 

“You died.” 

The words fell out of your mouth so quick and so blunt that it caught him off guard. 

“Oh, cool.” He joked. “Nice to know that you’re killing me in your mind.” 

“I had to watch you die, Pete.” Y/N stated, clearly not in the mood to begin joking about it just yet. “It was terrible. You got hurt--like really hurt--and I couldn’t do anything to help you. I couldn’t save you. I just had to sit there and watch you die. And then that was it. I was just left there. All alone.” 

Dreams like that weren’t exactly unfamiliar to Peter. Actually, the majority of his nightmares revolved around not being able to save you. Watching you bleed out in his arms from a fight gone wrong or even dreams of you plummeting to your death, him being just a few seconds too slow. But this was the first time that you had ever talked about having a dream about him dying. 

And he knew why. 

You weren’t left with much after your mom died, a few friendships that just barely survived the stress of losing a parent and a father that you didn’t really have a relationship with. The only meaningful connection you had left was Peter, and he didn’t doubt that the six month anniversary of losing her was at least partially the cause for this dream of losing what little support you had left. 

“Well you can’t get rid of me that easy, Y/N.” Peter reassured her. 

You shook your head at his words, suddenly sitting up and lightly pushing his arm off your waist. “Really? Cause last I checked I was just patching you up from a stab wound a couple of hours ago.” 

It was hard to have much of a response to the statement, both of them knowing that you had made a good point even if it was a little bit unfair. Being Spider-Man came with its perk, but neither could deny the very, very obvious downsides. Both of you were always picking up the pieces of what him being Spider-Man had destroyed, and he couldn’t blame her for thinking it was just a matter of time until he jumped out of her window and didn’t come back. 

“You know that I’ll always do my best to come back to you. I’m not going to leave you alone.” 

“What if that’s not your choice Peter?” When you turned your head to face him it suddenly felt like a hole had been punched in his chest, seeing the tears that were welling up in your eyes. “I don’t know what the hell I would do if something happened to you. I’ve already lost so much. So much. And I really don’t think that I can survive losing you too! I just don’t want to have to keep worrying about whether or not you’re gonna be alive at the end of the day.” 

“I know.” He placed a hand on your back, rubbing small circles in an attempt to provide some comfort as the tears began streaming down your face. “But I can’t just stop. He means too much to people. Those people out there need Spider-Man.” 

“And I need Peter Parker.” 

As soon as the words left your lips you immediately felt guilty, knowing that you were putting him in an impossible position right now. Because as much as you hated to admit it, Peter was right. People needed Spider-Man. 

“I know that Spider-Man is a part of you that I can’t just erase, ok? I know that. But I hate watching you put on that suit everyday and throwing yourself right into danger every time you go. And I get it. I promise you that I get it! People need Spider-Man and they love him-” you hesitated for a moment, struggling to decide whether or not to continue, “but all I can think about anymore is that no matter how much I love Spider-Man I will always love Peter Parker more. And I can’t lose him.” 

You and Peter had exchanged those words before, several times actually, but only ever as friends. But right now you could both feel that they had finally grown into something different, something bigger. 

Peter adjusted himself so that he was sitting right beside you now, his hand coming up to rest on your cheek and force you to look at him. He knew that once again there was nothing that he could say that would ease any of your worries, nothing that would take away the risks that came with who he was and absolutely nothing that would assure assure you that he would always be by your side. But, the one that he knew for certain was that he was here right now. In front of the girl he had been stupidly in love with for longer than he could even remember. And he wasn’t planning on wasting another moment with you. 

You barely even had time to process what was happening before his lips came crashing down onto yours--urgent, like he had been waiting years for this very moment and couldn’t wait a second longer--but at the same time incredibly gentle. He kissed you in a way that felt like his life depended on it, his hands venturing along your back and grasping at the fabric of your shirt as though he would lose you if he didn’t hold on tight enough. 

When you finally broke away to take a breath he rested his forehead against yours. 

Peter knew that he had essentially been banned from coming to visit me at work. 

The last time that he had tried to make a surprise stop by Oscorp during my shift had ended absolutely terrible. Being Harry’s assistant came with a lot of perks, seeing as though it had put me pretty far up on the corporate food chain and was also allowing me an opportunity to learn quite a bit about the business aspects of running Oscorp, however the downsides became apparent any time that Peter and Harry were in the same room together. 

The moment the two of them come into contact with one another it’s almost as though they are immediately taken over by some sort of testosterone-fueled stupidity; constantly trying to outdo one another. 

When it was just Harry and I alone it was easy to ignore his advances. Sure, he would usually find a way to work in random flirtatious comments or the occasional compliment here and there throughout the day, and sometimes it could get to be a bit much, but he was always much more tame on the days that Peter didn’t show his face. 

Yet, of course, it was rare that a day passed without Peter finding some excuse to stop by and make sure that Harry was keeping his distance. 

And today was no different. 

“What do you think salami is made out?” Peter questioned, holding his sandwich in front of his face as he analyzed the deli meat sticking out from the bread. “Is it pork? It’s not pork, is it?

Today’s reason for stopping by during my lunch break was very simple according to Peter: it was Flag Day. In Peter’s mind that was a holiday that he felt was worth celebrating, showing up unannounced with sandwiches from our favorite deli and his usual goofy grin. To be perfectly honest, I couldn’t even be mad at him for it if I wanted to be. Between his silly reasoning for stopping by and his offering of sandwiches? It was impossible not to just find the whole situation rather adorable. 

“I think it is pork.” I answered before taking a bite of my own sandwich. 

Peter scrunched up his nose a little, sitting his food back down in front of him. “It doesn’t taste like pork.” he stated matter-of-factly. 

“What’s it taste like?” I asked. 

He shrugged. “Salami?” 

I couldn’t help but laugh, enjoying his usual odd behavior. Even if Peter was supposed to be banned from visiting me here it was still always a nice break to have him here for a while and take away some of the stress from working. 

“Ah, Peter.” Harry’s voice rang through the room as he entered, his eyes lingering on Peter, who was sitting directly across from me at my desk, remaining on him for just a moment too long. “What a surprise.” 

Peter offered him a very tightlipped smile, not even looking over at him. “Nice to see ya, Harry.” 

For the most part the two of them at least always tried to be somewhat cordial towards one another, yet the tension that filled the room any time the two of them were near each other was undeniable and it wasn’t exactly shocking to anyone around when the passive aggressive comments starting spouting from both of their mouths. 

“Y/N-” Harry began, ignoring Peter’s comment, “did you ever get a hold of that file I was asking you about?” 

“Yes!” I chimed quickly, immediately opening the drawer of my desk and pulling out a vanilla-colored folder, standing to my feet to walk over to him. “This was all of the information that I could pull on both Dr. Connors and Dr. Parker’s cross-species work.” 

I didn’t even have to look at Peter to know that his face was definitely painted with very evident irritation. 

Harry had already been on Spider-Man’s trail as of late, desperate to find some way to cure himself, and the fact that he was looking into the cross-species genetics work Peter’s father had done was not good news. Yet, a part of me did feel bad for Harry. 

Being his assistant meant that I had seen him in some of his weakest moments, the only person around to offer any semblance of comfort as his body was being slowly taken over by the disease he had inherited from his father: retroviral hypodysplasia. I knew that deep down all he was searching for was just a way to live, something that he believed Spider-Man could give him. Unfortunately Peter and I both knew that under no circumstance whatsoever could Harry be given access to Peter’s blood. 

If anything, knowing that there was no way we could help Harry just made me feel even more sympathetic towards him. A sympathy that Peter didn’t quite share most days. 

Harry gave me a sweet smile as he grabbed the folder from my hand and tucked it under his arm. “Thank you so much, Y/N.” 

I returned his smile, about to turn and make my way back to my desk to continue eating lunch with Peter, but halting as Harry spoke up once again. 

“You’re a lucky guy, Peter.” Harry finally made eye contact with Peter for the first time since walking into the room, placing a hand on the small of my back and pulling me into his side, “I know that I certainly wouldn’t be able to live without her by my side.” 

Peter’s nails were digging into the side of his leg, gritting his teeth and forcing a smile at Harry’s words, not wanting Harry to have any indication at all that he was succeeding in getting under his skin. But I wasn’t stupid. I knew the sight of Harry’s arm wrapped around my waist--his fingers lightly gripping my side--was driving him absolutely insane. Yet he wouldn’t make a scene. I knew he wouldn’t make a scene. Because no matter how badly Harry tried to drive him mad he knew that working at Oscorp had been my dream for years now. 

He clearly hadn’t done the best job of hiding his jealousy though according to the satisfied smirk tugging on Harry’s lips as he moved towards the door. “Oh, one more thing,” he spoke, his body halfway out the door, “I’m gonna need you to stay late again tonight and help me with some research, okay?” 

“Of course.” Peter was definitely going to kill me. 

The moment Harry shut the door behind him I immediately turned on my heel to face my boyfriend, who was now up from his seat and pacing around the office space. 

“Do you have to always entertain him?” Peter asked desperately, motioning to the door that Harry had just walked out of. 

“No, no Parker-” I responded quickly, “We’ve been through this! He’s my boss. And he’s usually a pretty good one at that. So do not drag me into whatever it is that you two have going on.” 

Peter stopped pacing for a moment, frowning at me. “I’m sorry. I know that it’s not your fault. But god he is just so unbearable.” 

“Remember when you guys used to be friends?” I reminded him sarcastically. 

“Ah, yeah, well that was before he decided he wanted to screw my girlfriend.” Peter glared. 

I knew that nothing I said was going to make Peter feel any better about the situation, and so instead I opted for walking over to him and placing my hands on his shoulders, giving them a light squeeze. “Just try not to worry about him. Please. Cause I promise you that no one is ‘screwing’ me except for you.” I finished with a laugh, standing up on my toes to place a small kiss on the tip of his nose. 

For a moment it seemed that my joking reassurance and touch had done the trick, his eyes softening and the tension slowly disappearing from his body. But, then, the familiar soft expression he wore every time he looked at me faded into one that was much more mischievous, and I had a feeling that I really didn’t want to know what had gotten into his mind. 

“You’re right.” Peter agreed, his hands suddenly leaving his side where they were anxiously picking at his jeans, coming up to meet my hips. “Maybe he just needs a reminder of that, yeah?” 

I snorted at his comment, my hands falling from his shoulders as I turned to head back towards my desk. “And how do you plan on going about that?” 

Bad question. 

I suddenly felt a tug on the back of my shirt, and before I could even process what had happened I found myself being spun back into Peter’s arms, a trail of webbing coming off my shirt. To say that I was stunned would be an understatement. Peter had never used his web-shooters on me before unless it had been literally a matter of life or death, and yet here he was now using them just to pull me into his arms. 

The look on his face was also concerning, a look that was extremely unfamiliar to me. Peter and I had been together for almost a year now and I had gotten used to his usual dorky and clumsy persona, traits that shined through even if our most intimate moments. He was always banging his head against mine accidentally or cracking a joke even with his hand between my thighs. But--currently?--there wasn’t even a hint of his awkward mannerisms. 

“Why don’t I show you?” 

With no further warning he pressed his lips against mine, kissing me in a way that he had never kissed me before. There was an urgency behind it, a roughness that was nothing like I had ever experienced before. 

One of his hands rested on my hip, slowly venturing further south while the other found its home on the base of my neck, pulling me closer to him. His teeth found my bottom lip, lightly nibbling and tugging against it before pushing his tongue into my mouth. 

It felt like my heart was beating faster and faster and I swore that if it sped up any more then it would come thumping right out of my chest. Suddenly I realized that I couldn’t breathe, a fact that was only being made worse by Peter’s lips pressed firmly against my own. I quickly found myself with my hands on his chest, pushing him away just long enough to gasp for air. 

“What’s gotten into you?” I breathed, still struggling to catch my breath. 

“I told you.” Peter answered with a smug look. “Gotta show Harry who you belong to.” 

He pulled me back into him, clearly unfazed by my interruption. The hand that had moved to my ass was now pushing my hips into his, allowing him to press himself into me. His lips ventured down to my jaw, leaving light kisses along it until he finally made it to the side of my neck. 

The warm sensation of his breath near my ear sent shivers down my spine, my knees feeling weaker by the minute, and if it weren’t for his grip on my body I was sure I would have crumbled straight to the floor at the feeling. 

Peter began to lightly trace his tongue along my neck and I let out a soft moan at the feeling, quickly covering my own mouth with my hand to avoid anyone hearing us, knowing the amount of trouble I could get in if someone walked in but not at all wanting him to stop yet. 

“You’re so beautiful-” he mumbled against my skin, pressing his lips to my neck once more, his fingers getting tangled in my hair “and all mine, yeah?” 

I nodded feverishly, another muffled moan escaping my lips as he suddenly sunk his teeth into my neck. 

My fingers were now gripping at his hair, pulling at the messy dark locks as he continued to nip at my neck, and even though I knew that I would be covered in marks after this I still couldn’t bring myself to push him away. Being with Peter was always an amazing experience but this was unlike anything else, and I fully intended on soaking up every second of this new side of him. 

He pulled himself from my neck, grinning at the sight of all the marks he had created, clearly proud of his work. He returned his attention to my lips, kissing me once again, even harder, deeper, and more passionate than before if that were at all possible. Bringing me further into his body again, desperate for even the tiniest bit of friction and doing anything to get it, eliciting yet another unholy noise to escape my mouth. 

“Bet Harry couldn’t make you feel this good, yeah?” Peter hummed as he pulled his lips from mine, chuckling as I groaned at the loss of contact. 

“You’re insufferable, Parker.” I pouted, earning yet another adorable laugh in response. 

Peter planted one last kiss on my forehead before scooping his backpack up from beside my desk. “As much as I’d love to continue this I should probably let you get back to work since you’re already gonna have a late night.” 

“Don’t remind me.” 

“I don’t know. I’m kind of happy you get to stay late.” Peter replied as I shot him a puzzled look. “Just gives Harry more time to remember who you actually belong to.” 

I couldn’t even be mad at the comment, despite thinking the rivalry between the two of them was beyond stupid. Because honestly? If this is what I had to gain from Peter getting jealous? 

Three hours and thirty-seven minutes. 

That’s how long I had been waiting on him. Over three-and-a-half hours of sitting cross-legged on the end of the my bed, patiently staring at the phone screen and hoping to see it light up with his contact picture. After the first hour had passed, though, that patience quickly began to morph into annoyance as I sent a somewhat passive aggressive text his way--once again getting no reply. But at least I still had some hope that he would eventually respond. However, by the time the second hour rolled around, most of that hope had been completely lost. 

Being late once or twice is one thing. Things happen and I was well aware that people couldn’t always be as punctual as I might prefer. This wasn’t the first time that Pete had left me hanging without so much as a simple text though. Hell, it wasn’t even the first time this week that he had been late. 

I stared blankly at the phone, reaching forward to tap the screen to make it light up, displaying my lockscreen. That picture was probably one of the only things that was keeping me from being totally furious with him. 

It was hard to look at the picture that his Aunt May had snapped of the two of us without having all my anger fade away just a bit. The sight of the two of us after we had fallen asleep on their couch one night--his arms wrapped around me with his mouth wide open and my face buried in his chest--made it difficult to continue being mad at him. Staying mad at Pete had always been difficult. But lately it was less about being angry with him and more about feeling hurt. 

Just as I leaned my head back slightly, my fingers pulling at my hair for probably the billionth time tonight, I felt my mattress vibrating from underneath my phone. Quickly, I snatched it off the bed, hitting the green button before it could even complete the first ring. 

“What’s the excuse this time, Pete?” I sighed into the phone. 

“I am so sorry-” it was hard to even hear what he was saying over the sound of wind blowing into the speaker, but even then it was still evident from his tone that the apology was genuine. “I swear I was going to call and let you know that I was going to be late but I just couldn’t find the time and then-” 

“Save it.” I interrupted him. “Don’t worry about it tonight, ok? I get it. Things happen.” 

“No!” Peter protested, groaning slightly. “I’m almost to your apartment and I promise that I’ll explain everything to you.” 

I pulled the phone away from my face for a just a moment to check the time. “Peter it’s already eleven o’clock! Just go home.” 

“Too late.” He stated just before the line went dead, a knock on my bedroom window causing my head to jolt in that direction. 

You’ve got to be kidding me I thought as I jumped to my feet, rushing over to the window and throwing the curtains open to be met with Peters face, displaying his typical goofy over-exaggerated grin. 

“What the hell Peter?” I pushed the window up so he could come in. “What are you doing? How did you even get here? We are literally fifteen stories up right now how the fuck did you manage to get to my window?” 

Peter chuckled a bit, his voice coming out kind of breathy, “Can’t go giving you all my secrets, can I?” 

As he went to climb through the window into my room I turned around, resting my hands in my hair once again as I went right back to nervously pulling at it. “You are seriously gonna drive me insane, Parker.” I began the anxious and frustrated rant we both knew was coming. “I mean, what, first you’re gonna scare the absolute hell out of me by showing up late as hell at my bedroom window and god knows how you even managed to get up here in the first place. And on top of that this is like-the fifth time that you have ditched me this week. Do you know how much that sucks Peter? How much it hurts? You don’t call. You don’t text. Nothing.” I shook my head slightly, my eyes glued to the ground and my back still turned to him. “Absolutely nothing.” 

Peter remained silent for a moment, knowing that any response he had to give right now likely wouldn’t make me feel any better in this moment. “I know this is probably hard to believe but I promise that it hurts me just as much as it hurts you.” 

Wrong response, Parker. 

I quickly turned on my heal, already spouting off some nonsense about how he couldn’t possibly be saying such a stupid thing to me right now when he was the one that had been ditching me nonstop lately, but before I could even make my point I stopped mid-sentence at the sight of him. This was the first time I had looked in his direction since he had entered my bedroom, the light coming from my desk lamp allowing me to see what the streetlights from my window did not. 

“Oh my god.” My voice was just barely above a whisper, my hand instinctively covering my mouth in shock as I took in what I was seeing. “What happened to you, Pete?” 

Every ounce of anger in my body vanished in an instant at the sight of him standing there, his face covered in dirt and his hand pressing tightly onto his abdomen, his shirt soaked through with blood. 

“No no-” Peter moved closer to me, lifting his hand that wasn’t covered in blood to place a finger against my lips to shush me, “Keep being angry! You have every right to be mad at me right now! So go for it! Keep screaming!” 

I glared at him. “You’re intolerable.” 

“Ah but you love that about me.” 

Usually Peter’s cheeky comments were always enough to bring a smile to my face, but right now it was impossible to focus on anything other than the idea of my boyfriend bleeding out in the bedroom. I mean, how would I even begin to explain that to my parents? 

“Please just tell me what happened to you because I am about five seconds away from having a full-blown panic attack.” I told him honestly, the shock wearing off just enough for me to come to my senses and help guide him over to the edge of the bed so he could sit down, sinking to my knees in front of him so I could look at the wound on his stomach. 

“It’s just a little cut.” Pete said casually, brushing it off like he wasn’t bleeding on my comforter. “Besides, how am I supposed to focus on talking about literally anything when you look so good on your knees for me?” 

I shot a cold look up at him, both of us knowing damn good and well that this was not the time for this. Without even acknowledging his remark I went to lift the bottom of his shirt, knowing that I obviously wasn’t going to get any answers out of him anytime soon. As the fabric lifted off the wound I heard him hiss, his teeth gritting together at the sensation shooting through his abdomen. “What the hell.” I muttered under my breath as I took a look at the gash on his side. “What did you do Pete?” 

“Look,” Peter began, losing any trace of his once cocky and sarcastic tone. “I promise that I’ll explain. Cause I know this is a lot and I’m sorry but you were the only person I knew to come to with this. So could you please help me patch this up? Because believe it or not? This hurts like a bitch.” 

“Trust me, I can believe it.” I quickly raised myself back up to my feet, “Wait here for a second.” He nodded in response as I snuck out of my bedroom door, careful not to make too much noise in fear of gaining my parents attention. I rushed to the bathroom as quickly as I could, gathering the few medical supplies we did have. Gauze, medical tape, some bandaids, and Neosporin. Was the Neosporin necessary? For something so deep? I wasn’t quite sure but I grabbed it anyways and grabbed a few cloths, dampening them before making my way back to my bedroom. 

Peter was now sprawled out across the bed, his shirt now laying in a ball on the floor. 

“Okay,” I started, swallowing hard as I once again glanced at the gash on his stomach. Maybe now would be a bad time to tell him blood makes me squeamish. “Here’s how this is going to work. I’m gonna work on keeping you from... dying. And you? Are going to explain what you were doing for this to happen.” I instructed. 

“You don’t wanna keep talking about you being upset?” He leaned back up slightly, groaning at the feeling. 

“Me being upset is actually the last thing on my mind right now.” 

With that I sat all the supplies down by his feet, settling on the floor in-between his legs once again and beginning to get to work on cleaning him up, dabbing at the blood with one of the wet cloths. “So? Get to talking, Parker.” 

“Okay-” He let out a deep breath. “Would you believe me if I told you that I’m actually a super-criminal? And I got this injury during my latest encounter with the law?” 

I stopped wiping the blood off of him, shooting him a stern look as I went to grab the roll of gauze. “No.” 

He hummed lightly, frowning a bit. “Fair enough. I would be a pretty bad criminal, don’t you think?” 

“Peter I’m being serious here.” I told him as I lightly began to press the gauze against the wound, holding it in place with one hand while I reached for the medical tape with the other. 

“Okay, okay.” He held his hands up defensively. “I’m Spider-Man.” 

I paused, my hands pressing lightly against the piece of tape that I was sticking against the gauze and his skin, my eyes fluttering up to meet his. 

“You don’t have a serious bone in your body, do you?” 

“Why do you think I’m not being serious?” 

“Pete you’re not Spider-Man.” 

“Yes, I am.” 

“This isn’t funny.” 

“Good thing I’m not laughing.” 

I narrowed my eyes at him before ripping off another piece of tape, securing it to his body to finish dressing his wound before quickly standing up. “Alright then Spidey-” I rolled my eyes as the word fell out of my mouth, “Go on. Prove it.” 

“How do you want me to prove it?” 

“I don’t know! If you’re Spider-Man then do some spider things!” I cried out, immediately regretting my loud tone as I remembered my parents who were asleep just down the hall. 

“What are spider things?” He held up air quotes as he spoke, laughing a bit too hard as he spoke, his hand instinctively gripping his stomach in pain. 

I shrugged at him. “How am I supposed to know? I’m not the one claiming to be Spider-Man!” 

Peter threw his head back. “Well I’m not exactly in the condition to be doing... spider things.” he pointed towards the window, where he had obviously sat his backpack down on the way in. “Just look in there, alright?” 

I didn’t want to be mad at him anymore. I had already spent so long tonight being pissed with him and seeing him injured at least made that problem go away for a bit, but now sitting here and watching him make this entire situation into a huge joke was just making the anger come back ten times worse than before. As I leaned down next to his backpack and began to unzip it he spoke up again, “Before you look-” I glanced over my shoulder at him, noting the look of genuine concern and... fear that painted his face. “just know that I’ve wanted to tell you about this for so long Y/N. Literally, so long.” 

I didn’t respond to him, though his words did send a wave of anxiety crashing down on me. There was absolutely no way that Peter was being serious with all of this. No way at all. And yet as I unzipped the bag I found myself unable to breathe as I waited to see what was inside. 

“Holy shit.” I breathed, eyes shifting back and forth between the contents of the bag and my boyfriend. “You...You’re not joking, are you?” 

He responded with nothing more than a tight lipped smile, the fearful expression still there. 

I reached in and grabbed the red mask, running my fingers over the white patches where his eyes would be. “This is so unfair.” I stated, my voice completely devoid of emotion. I could tell Peter was unsure of how to process my words, still obviously not knowing whether or not his admission was being taken well. “How am I supposed to be mad at you for being late if you are freaking Spider-Man?” 

Peter sighed, a small chuckle following it, clearly somewhat relieved by my reaction. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” 

I walked over to him, mask still in hand, and carefully crawled onto his lap and placed my free hand on his face. “You really should be. Being a superhero isn’t exactly the sort of thing you hide from your girlfriend, Pete.” 

Peter snorted. “How are you being so cool with this? I expected you to flip out on me or-I don’t know-maybe even breakup with me or something. But you’re just... Being... You.” 

“Ah, yeah. Well, I think I’m probably in shock from patching up a giant gash on my boyfriends stomach and then finding out that he can shoot webs from his wrists and swings around New York city on a daily basis.” 

“Ya know what? That’s fair.” Peter nodded at me, wrapping his arms around my waist. “I’m just glad that you know now. Because I have seriously hated keeping this from you so much. Plus? It’s kinda nice to have my own personal nurse.” He winked playfully, lightly squeezing my sides. 

“Yeah let’s not make a regular thing out of that one.” I replied quickly, knowing that my heart could only take so many times of Peter showing up to my bedroom window with blood all over him before it eventually just gives out. 

“No promises.” He said as he pulled me into his body, burying his face into my chest and mumbling, “So you’re sure you are okay with this?” 

I smiled to myself, running my hand through his hair. “To be honest? I don’t think I’ve really processed it yet.” I told him honestly. “But I think I can be. And at least in the future when you’re late for our dates I’ll know it’s because you’re out saving the city or something! But I do need you to promise me something.” 

“What?” He spoke, his voice still muffled with his face pressed against me. 

“It only seems fair that you make all of these missed dates up to me, right?” 

Peter nodded his head in agreement. I leaned back a bit, forcing him to move his face away from my chest so he would look up at me and once he was looking I held up the Spider-Man mask with a devilish grin. “Fuck me in the suit?” 

Peter’s eyes practically bulged out of his head at the words, his jaw falling slack and nodding rapidly. 

“You’re gonna end up getting yourself killed, Y/N.” His voice carried a certain kind of harshness that he only ever used with me, a tone that was always sure to cause silence to fall over the Star Labs group as we walked in. Before I joined the team it was rare to ever hear Barry raise his voice, yet my arrival had made it a rather common thing. 

“Ya know, a thank you would suffice Barr.” The sight of my snarky smile was most definitely enough to power Barry up for another one of super-lectures, but Cisco cut him off before he even had the chance to open his mouth. 

“Think you guys could give it a rest for one night?” He proposed, moving slightly to stand in-between Barry and I. 

It only took a glance around the room to see that the entirety of Team Flash had become quickly frustrated with our regular outbursts. It was hard to blame them really. After all, it was at least once or twice a week that Barry and I were bursting through the doors chewing each others heads off about something new. 

Barry let out a sigh, clearly still frustrated and not fully willing to follow Cisco’s suggestion. “I just don’t get it. It’s like you think you are made of steel or something, Y/N. Or like you are just immune to everything. You are constantly putting yourself in the middle of danger and one of these days I’m not gonna be fast enough to save you!” 

“Did you ever think that I don’t need you to save me?” I remarked. “I’ve saved my own ass more than once, haven’t I? I’ve only been here a couple of months and I’ve already done my fair share of putting up with the bad guys and ya know what Barr? I always make it out! Even when you aren’t there!” 

Once again the all-too-familiar silence fell over the lab as everyone tried desperately to get rid of the tension that Barry and I brought to the room. Cisco was the first to open his mouth, probably to offer up another bit about how the two of us needed to stop fighting and just enjoy our win for the night, but before he could even get his first word out Barry had already beat him to it. 

“Okay. I get it.” Barry held his hands up in defense despite the exasperated expression that still painted his face. “I’ll stop trying to save you.” 

And with that the speedster was quick to bring his most annoying habit to light once again as he dashed out of the room before anyone could say another word to him. Typical I thought, shaking my head while staring at the spot where he took residence just mere seconds ago. 

After a moment my gaze shifted to Cisco, who was still standing in front of me. I couldn’t quite pin what his expression was trying to say, but it looked a bit like disappointment. “What?” I asked, confused as to how I was the one deserving of that look. 

“You don’t have to be so hard on the guy, Y/N.” 

I scoffed, “Me? He treats me like I’m made of glass, Cisco. I’m tired of him always seeing me as so much weaker than the rest of you guys. I did the same thing today that any of you would have and yet I’m the only one that he would humiliate in front of the whole team for not being able to take care of myself.” 

What I said wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t like I had been purposely seeking out danger anyways. I was already at Jitters when the man came in, armed and making it more than clear that he was willing to fire if anyone acted against him. Even when Barry arrived I had stayed out of it, up until it came down to someone’s life being at risk. I could see the look on the mans face as he held that man hostage, gun pointed to his head and ready to shoot at Barry’s slightest move. I was in a good position to gain the mans attention from behind and so I did, allowing Barry the chance he needed to save a life and take the gun. And, of course, no one could argue. Not Cisco, not Caitlin, and not Iris. Because every single one of them had been in a similar position before and all of us had put ourselves in harms way to try to help someone else. But I was the only one that had to deal with Barry’s attitude afterwards. 

“Look,” Caitlin began, walking up and placing a hand on my shoulder and offering a small smile, clearly trying to continue combatting the tension that was left behind, “I get it. We all do. And I know that you and Barry have a...” she trailed off for a moment, clearly struggling to find the right word,”rough relationship. But I know that he’s only acting that way because he cares about you and doesn’t want you hurt.” 

“And does he not care about the rest of you?” I asked, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to find a response to the question. “Yeah. Exactly. But I’m the only one that has to deal with that.” I gestured to the doorway where he had just sped out of the conversation as per usual. 

All I could offer after that was a light smile. I appreciated them being so kind and I wasn’t trying to tear apart their attempt at being kind. But it also didn’t matter much anymore. I had been a part of this team for months now and I hadn’t come any closer to proving to Barry that I can carry my own weight, let alone getting him to actually like me. 

Since Barry had ran off it didn’t take long for the rest of the team to say their goodbyes and go their separate ways for the night. 

The walk home certainly wasn’t a kind one. Late nights at Star Labs were always my least favorite, seeing as though my apartment was just a bit too close for me to feel comfortable asking any of them to drop me off at home, but a bit too far for me to really feel at ease walking alone at night. After all, there were a plethora of reasons for a woman to feel uncomfortable walking on an empty street in the middle of the night. 

“Hey pretty lady,” 

Such as that. 

My eyes followed the sound of the gravely voice, seeing a man around his mid-forties leaning against the light post, flashing me the grossest grin anyone could ever possibly muster. 

I didn’t respond, forcing a tightlipped smile and trying to walk past him, hoping that he was just a creepy old man and not an actual threat. 

“Well hey now!” He called out, latching onto my wrist as I tried to go past him. “Where ya off to angel?” 

I pulled at my arm, trying to get it out of his grip which was tightening by the second, “I’m catching up with a friend. He’s actually just a couple of blocks ahead.” I lied. 

The man snorted, rolling his eyes at my excuse. “Really? Cause I been here for a while darlin’ and I ain’t see no one come through here except you.” He yanked on my wrist to pull me closer to his body, his other hand falling to my waist. The smell of liquor and cigarettes was overwhelming. As he inched closer to my face I instinctively went to raise my one free hand to push him away when, suddenly-in a flash-he was gone. 

“Are you ok?” Were the first words out of the speedsters mouth as he magically reappeared right in front of me, reaching out to grab my shoulders gently, scanning over my body looking for any sign of me being hurt by that creep. 

“Fine.” I didn’t mean to sound as harsh as I did, still a bit overwhelmed and filled with anxiety. “Thank you.” I added on, trying to soften the blow. 

Barry nodded in response, letting his hands fall from my shoulders. There was a silence that fell over the two of us for a split moment before he decided to break it. “Can I take you home?” 

On any other night I would have quickly declined that offer, immediately writing it off as Barry thinking I need his supervision in order to do absolutely anything without getting hurt. But, seeing as though I did actually benefit from his help tonight, I decided to put my pride to the side and accept the offer. “Uh, yeah. Thank you.” I replied, “I’m just down the street off of-” before the directions to my apartment even left my mouth I was already being grabbed gently by the speedster and being sped to the door of my apartment. “I guess you know the way?” I finished, slightly dumbstruck as he let me back down from his arms. 

His cheeks were slightly flushed, a hand flying to the back of his neck as he looked down the hall of my apartment complex. “Iris has actually mentioned where you live a few times so I just kind of remembered.” 

I glanced back the door to my apartment, the shiny number 15 on the door. I highly doubted that Iris had mentioned the exact apartment I lived in, seeing as though that wasn’t exactly just casual conversation between friends. “Iris told you which number I was in?” 

Barry didn’t reply to that one, his mouth gaped open like he was trying to think up a response with absolutely no words coming to his rescue. 

“Ya know... I don’t wanna sound ungrateful here, Barr,” I started as the wheels in my head began to turn, “because you really saved my ass back there from that creep. But you don’t even live in this direction? So what were you even doing here?” 

The red color painted his cheeks was damn near as dark as cherries and he was still struggling to form words, a series of ‘uh’s and ‘well’s escaping his lips with no other words. 

And, then, it clicked into place perfectly. 

“You followed me, didn’t you?” The words made his eyes widen to the size of saucers, answering my question without him ever having to say a single word. “You’ve gotta be kidding me Allen.” I scoffed, “Okay. Don’t get me wrong, ok? I am really grateful that you helped me tonight. But I do not need you following me home! I’m not that helpless!” 

“Well you needed my help tonight.” Barry offered up in his defense. 

“Yes! And I already thanked you for that.” I reminded him. “But that doesn’t mean you can go following me home at night just waiting for me to get myself into trouble and be too weak to stop it. I’m not some damsel constantly waiting for the Flash to come to my rescue!” I watched as Barry glanced around the hall, making sure no one else was around to hear me yelling about the Flash. “Do you follow everyone else home?” I asked. “Or is it literally just me that you think can’t protect themself?” 

“I just wanted to make sure you were sa-” 

“What did I do to make you think I’m so damn helpless Barry!” I cut him off, my frustration quickly growing into desperation. Months on end of having him treat me like I was made of glass had finally caught up to me. I was tired of feeling?”  like a liability to the team. “What the hell did I do to make you hate me so much?” 

Barry frowned at my words. “What?” The word escaped his lips seemingly without his permission, confusion crossing over his features. “Why would I hate you?” He asked, “I don’t think you’re weak either, Y/N. I just get-” He hesitated, sighing slightly, “scared, I guess. That someone is gonna use you against me and you are going to get hurt.” 

“Why would anyone use me against you?” 

“Because I care about you?” He said it as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Okay,” I blinked, shaking my head slightly as I tried to piece everything together. “That doesn’t explain why I’m the only one constantly catching the worst of your attitude Barr. You care about everyone else too and yet you don’t scream at them every day because you are scared they’re gonna be used against you or something!” 

“It’s different.” Yet again, he said it as though it were extremely obvious and needed no further explanation. 

“Because you think I can’t protect myself?” 

“Because I love you?” The words came out as a bit more of a question that Barry probably intended, and from the look on his face it seemed like the fact that they were even said was just as shocking to him as it was me. 

I could only imagine how stupid I looked, standing in front of him with my mouth slightly agape as I tried to process what he said. “Um...” was the only thing my brain could really force out. 

“You don’t have to say anything.” It came out as more of a plead than a statement, “About that, at least. I know that it makes like no sense and probably sounds stupid but just-I don’t know Y/N-I care about you. I don’t think you’re weak. And I know I’ve been annoying,” he paused, burying his face in his hands for a moment before continuing, “but it’s just because I don’t think I could stand losing you.” After a brief pause he laughed slightly, “Which is pretty funny since I don’t even have you.” 

I wanted to speak. I wanted to say something. But all I could do was stand in silence, trying to take in everything he said. I mean, after all, going from thinking someone hated you for several months to finding out they actually might love you? Is quite a bit of information to work through. 

Barry seemed to notice my inability to speak, forcing a small-and very fake smile. “You should really get some rest.” He said, taking a step backwards as he prepared to leave, “And just, I don’t know, try to forget about that stuff ok? All that matters is that you know I don’t think you can’t take care of yourself. Forget about everything else, alright?” 

As he went to turn around to disappear down the hallway I quickly reached out, grabbing his wrist and pulling him back towards. me. “I don’t want to.” The words fell out of my mouth without permission, causing Barry to cock his head in confusion at me, our bodies mere inches apart. “I don’t know,” I began “I don’t know if I... love you.” He nodded his head in understanding at my words, despite the flash of pain that spread across his features. “But I want to see if I can.” 

Neither of us spoke for a moment, but Barry stepped closer, his body practically pressed against mine as his wrist was still caught in my shaky hand. I had been this close to Barry before, nearly every time he had to pick me up and run me away from danger. But this was the first time that I had ever paid so much attention to him. The smell of his cologne was intoxicating, so warm and light. And his face. God his face. In all these months I had never really taken the time to see how beautiful Barry was. Obviously I could see that he was an attractive man but I never took the time to admire it. The freckles that littered his face, the cute way his nose was scrunching up as he tried to determine what to do next. 

“I don’t know what to do next.” Barry admitted.

“Well...” I trailed. “You could start by kissing me.” 

There was a small part of me that was almost happy that Peter wasn’t here to see the way that the night had unfolded. After all, he had pretty much nailed exactly how it was going to turn out, an outcome that I foolishly thought wouldn’t happen. I knew without a doubt in my mind that all it would take was just one glance at me--sitting on the curb, all alone, in a dress that he had already assured me cost way too much money for a date with a guy like Flash Thompson--to make him throw the worlds biggest and most obnoxious I told you so! right in my face. 

“You definitely know how to pick ‘em...” I muttered under my breath, reaching to my bag to pull out my cell phone, checking it only to find that there were still no returned calls or texts from my so-called date. 

To be fair it wasn’t like Flash had been my top pick for a prom date anyways. I had never been a big fan of the guy, actually, seeing as though him and Peter were constantly at one-another’s throats. But, after literal months of hinting and waiting for the guy I actually wanted to ask me out to finally get the courage to do so, I settled for the only guy that at least had the nerve to ask me in the first place. 

Peter never had been one to get the hint. 

With one final sigh I finally shoved my phone back into my back and stood to my feet, knowing that over half an hour was already way too long to have waited on a guy you didn’t even like to show. Who needs prom anyways? I thought to myself, trying to find some sort of silver lining to this situation, High school memories are overrated. 

“Now what is a pretty girl like you doing out here all by herself?” 

The familiar sounding voice coming from behind me was the first thing to put a smile on my face all night. 

“What’s a superhero doing prowling around a high school?” I retorted sarcastically, not even turning around to face him. “Don’t make me call the cops on you bug-boy.” 

“Oof-” He groaned loudly as I turned my head over my shoulder slightly, watching as he dramatically placed a hand over his heart, “Now that one? Hurt. I saved your life, remember? And this is how you plan on repaying me?” 

I couldn’t help but laugh. “I didn’t realize you were only in the hero-game for what you could get out of it.” 

A little over a month ago I had gotten lost on my way back home from the library; one wrong turn quickly turned to ending up on an unfamiliar street with zero cell reception. Unfortunately for the majority of this planet, the world is a very dangerous place to be all alone late at night, and I was not the exception to that rule. I can still clearly remember trying to scurry past a man sitting on the steps of a business, eyes glued to my phone waiting to gain even one bar of reception, before he grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me to the alleyway next to us where several of his friends were waiting. And, so, Spider-Man definitely wasn’t exaggerating when he says that he saved my life. If he hadn’t been there that night then I could only imagine I would have ended up like so many others, another statistic or horror story you see on your Insta newsfeed. And, if not for that night, I wouldn’t have spent so many of the following nights being playfully harassed by the hero that seemed to have deemed me as a friend for some absurd reason.  

“What are you even doing here?” I asked, “Cause I think it’s pretty safe to assume that you aren’t here to dance to Call Me Maybe with some high schoolers.” 

“Mmm, and what if I told you you were wrong?” He mused sarcastically. 

“Oh yeah? Big Carly Rae Jepson fan?” 

Spider-Man nodded rapidly, “Yep. The biggest, actually.” 

This was typically what happened whenever I would ask him how he just happened to stumble across my path again. It had turned into a several times a week occurrence, and yet whenever I would question how he ended up finding me again he would always change the subject or start joking, obviously not intending on answering my question. 

“Well, thank you for the laugh Mr. Spider-Man.” I jokingly bowed, continuing the weird joking behavior the two of us always picked up when we would chat. “But I should probably be on my way. Not sure if you have much experience with this sort of thing but heels aren’t exactly the most comfortable walking shoe, so I have a long journey ahead of me.” 

With that I turned slightly, starting to go in the direction of my house before he quickly jogged in front of me, placing a hand on my forearm to stop me. 

“Wait, where are you off to? Shouldn’t you be going inside?” He pointed towards the gymnasium, and even though I couldn’t see his face from underneath the bright red mask I could almost picture the confused expression he had to be wearing. 

“No date.” I told him simply, offering a very small smile as an attempt to hide the fact that I was actually pretty disappointed that I would be missing the senior prom. “Well, I had a date. But he’s a no show so it just seems kinda depressing to stick around any longer.” 

I could almost see him frown through the thin fabric covering his lips. “Well anyone who could ditch you is an idiot, Y/N.” I quietly thanked him, glancing at his hand that was still lightly gripping my arm. “Why don’t we get out of here?” 

The question caught me off guard, my eyes widening. “What?” 

“Yeah. Let me take you somewhere.” He suggested, the familiar tone of excitement returning to his voice. “I know how excited you were for this and just cause some douchebag used tonight to prove he’s a dick doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t have an amazing prom night.” 

I almost made another joke out of the situation, wanting to tease him as to how he could possibly know whether or not I was exciting for prom, but instead I decided to let it slide. What else was I going to do tonight? I couldn’t call Gwen, she was inside probably having a great time. And going to Peter’s house was out of the question because I wasn’t ready for him to find out just yet that he was obviously right about Flash. So, given the choice between sitting alone watching Master Chef and hanging out with Spider-Man? Anyone in their right mind would pick Spider-Man. 

“Okay.” I breathed. “Where are we going?” 

He wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me flush against his body, “You’re gonna wanna hold on.” 

My eyes immediately bulged out of my head, quickly realizing where this was going, but before I could protest he was already gripping onto me and shooting a web towards the skyline, leaving me with only one thing to do: Hold onto him for dear life. 

“Come on!” I heard him shout over the sound of the wind rushing past our faces. “Open your eyes!” 

I dug my fingers further into his suit, one hand around the back of his neck and the other around his waist, letting out a very loud and long squeal before finally opening my eyes and looking around us. 

We were several hundred feet in the air, breezing past the highest stories of all the buildings that surrounded us. When I finally gained the courage to look below us I couldn’t stop the gasp from escaping my lips, taking in the sight. It was so gorgeous, all of the lights twinkling from the streets or passing cars. The people walking on the streets looked like the tiniest little specks and it was almost amazing to think that they were even real. 

“This is beautiful.” I finally spoke, laughter following right behind my words as I continued to take in all of the things around us. 

Soon enough I found myself with my feet planted firmly once again as he sat me down on top of one of the buildings, his hands remaining on my waist for just a moment to make sure that I had regained my balance before letting go. “That’s amazing!” I screamed much louder than intended, clearly still coming down from the high that came from swinging over the city, “How do you ever stop? Like, how do you not just spend all day doing that?” 

Spider-Man chuckled at my reaction. “It is pretty great, huh? I thought you would like it.” 

He motioned for me to follow him, leading me over to the edge of the building where he sat down, patting the ground beside him for me to sit. It had the perfect view of the city, almost as good as just swinging right over the top of it. 

“Thanks for this. You took what was going to be an extremely sad and lonely night and made it pretty unforgettable.” 

“Well just cause you got ditched doesn’t mean you had to spend the night alone, right? I’m sure you’ve got tons of people that would’ve loved to find out you were free tonight.” 

I snorted. “Not so sure about that.” 

“Why?” He almost sounded offended, a tone that caught me off guard and had to be something I was just completely misreading. 

“Well,” I began, “I only really have two friends and one of them is probably off having the time of her life at prom. Which, I totally don’t mean for that to as sound as terrible as it probably does because I am super happy that at least one of us gets to have a good night. But it definitely sucks not being able to rely on her when things get tough, ya know?” 

“What about the other one?” He asked quickly, completely brushing by everything else I had said. 

“Peter... I don’t know.” I laughed a little, looking down at my hands and playing with some of the fabric on my dress, “I know he’s probably not busy or anything. He didn’t want to come to prom--all he’s been doing is talking about how lame it is--so he’s probably at home anyways. But I just can’t really bring myself to call him I guess? He kind of guessed that tonight would end the way it would and I just don’t think I’m ready to have that shoved in my face.” 

Spider-Man hesitated before responding. “Do you really think he’s that kind of guy? The kind to just push you when you’re down?” 

“No!” I quickly defended Peter, not even slightly wanting anyone to get the wrong idea of him. “Not at all. It’s just that I didn’t even want to go to prom with Flash--the guy that ditched me--and Peter knew that it wasn’t going to work out, so he definitely has every right to say ‘I told you so’ on this one.” 

“If you didn’t want to go to prom with him then why did you?” 

I looked back up from my hands, gazing at the blank white eyes on his mask, smiling slightly. “The person I wanted to go with didn’t ask me.” 

“Wait-” I stood to my feet as he started to speak, brushing the dirt off the back of my dress from sitting on the roof, “who did you want to go with then?” 

“Ya know, I think I’ve overshared enough tonight bug-boy.” I giggled at him, not giving him time to ask again, “So, are you gonna be my ride home tonight or am I gonna have to find a way down from this building all by myself?” 

Spider-Man jumped to his feet. “Ready to call it a night so soon? We haven’t even danced yet.” 

I cocked my head to the side. “You serious?” 

“It’s prom night, isn’t it?” 

Before I could respond he held a finger up at me to tell me to wait, rushing around the corner of the roof and snatching a backpack up and starting to dig through it, pulling out a plain black clip-on bowtie and holding it up for me to see. “I came prepared and everything, see?” 

“You did!” I grinned at him as he made his way back over to me, fastening the tie onto his suit. “How could you possibly have known you’d need that?” 

“Call it a hunch.” 

He stopped in front of me and held his hand out. “So? What do ya say?” 

“W-we don’t even have music!” I protested. 

Spider-Man threw his head back and groaned, “You’re really making me work for this, huh?” He rushed back over to the bag he had stashed, pulling out a phone and turning on a playlist before coming back and sitting it on the ground beside our feet. “Any more requests, Ms. Y/L/N?” 

I bit down on my bottom lip, trying to figure out what to do in this situation. It’s not everyday that you have a superhero whisking you away to the top of a building. So, instead of replying, I just placed my hand in his. 

There was something that was very strange about being in his arms. Something about it that was comforting and almost familiar. It made it easy to relax against his form, my head resting on his chest. Spider-Man may not have been the date that I expected or even the date that I had wanted, but somehow he was the date I ended up with, and for that I had to be thankful. 

As the first song came to an end and we stopped swaying along with the music I felt his hand come up and rest below my chin, pushing it up so that I was facing him, my eyes gazing into his covered ones. We were just barely a few inches apart from one another--so close that I could feel his breath against my face through the fabric of his mask. His hand moved up a bit more until it was brushing against my cheek, his fingers lightly tracing along the curve of my cheekbone, slowly coming to a stop as they moved across my bottom lip. 

I barely knew how to respond. Barely felt that I was even capable of responding. It felt like my breath was stuck in my throat, my heart just barely even beating and my mind racing. His hand that wasn’t resting on my face was brought up to the base of his neck, slowly pulling his mask up and carefully revealing only the lower half of his face. 

“You look so beautiful.” The words seemed to just fall off of his tongue so naturally, almost as if they had been waiting forever to finally escape from his lips. There was a sense of ease that washed over me, but the feeling I couldn’t shake was the overwhelming sense of familiarity that I couldn’t understand as he pulled my closer until I was flush against his body, my palms resting against his chest. 

There was a part of me that wanted to just enjoy this. 

A part of me that wanted to lean into his touch and just let whatever happened happen. Everything about this moment was the textbook definition of perfection; with the city lights surrounding us and music playing softly from below us. And, yet, when his lips were just barely about to brush against my own, I found myself unable to lean into his kiss. “I’m sorry...” My voice was low, just barely loud enough for him to even hear me. “I can’t.” 

He let out a forced chuckle, dropping his hand from my face and quickly pulling his mask back down. “No, no, I’m sorry. That was definitely out of line. My bad.” He threw his hands up jokingly, taking a step back from me. A moment passed before he spoke again. “Would it-um-have anything to do with who you wanted to take you out tonight?” 

I forced a tight smile, nodding my head slightly. “I know it’s probably hundreds of peoples dreams to have the chance to make-out with the Spider-Man and it’s so stupid but all I can think about any time someone gets even a little bit close to me is how they’re not Peter.” 

“You.. You would choose Peter over me?” He seemed a bit shocked by my words, clearly struggling to process it as he cocked his head to the side, “You’d pick Peter over Spider-Man?” 

“You’re being really weird.” I ignored his question, backing off slightly from the masked man. Spider-Man and I may have had quite a few run-ins in the past several weeks but even that little bit of familiarity with him didn’t make me feel very comfortable with his current behavior. Was it really that weird for someone to reject him? I mean, sure, he is Spider-Man and all that, but he’s also just some random guy in a mask that tried to kiss me on top of a building when I don’t even know his real name! Seems like a pretty good reason to reject someone in my book. 

“Sorry.” He seemed to sense my very obvious discomfort with the situation. “I-I just didn’t expect that I guess.” 

“Not used to getting shot down, eh?” I awkwardly joked. 

He just laughed in response, scratching at the back of his neck and not saying a word to my attempt to ease the tension that was steadily growing on this rooftop. 

“I promise that it’s really nothing personal though, okay? And I still appreciate everything you’ve done for me! Like, saving my life!” I breathed out through laughter, hoping that maybe I would say something to get back on the spider’s good side. Cause if I didn’t? I was honestly worried I’d find myself spending the night on top of this building cause I certainly didn’t have my own way down from here. 

“Why haven’t you told him?” 

“I’m sorry?” 

“Peter. Why haven’t you told him how you feel? If he’s the one you wanted to be with tonight then why didn’t you just tell him that?” 

I scrunched my nose slightly. “I don’t know?” The answer was an honest one, or at least it sort of was. Because to be perfectly truthful I didn’t know why I hadn’t told him. “I guess because he’s my best friend? And he’s also just... I don’t know! It’s not like Peter has ever really given me a reason to think that he would even feel the same way. And it’s just not something worth ruining our friendship over.” 

Another moment of silence passed over the two of us because I heard him hum slightly through the mask. “Fair enough.” He replied, obviously at least somewhat satisfied with the answer I had given him. “Well-” he dusted his hands against the sides of his legs, his usual goofy demeanor returning just as quickly as it had left, “guess it’s time for me to get you home, huh?” 

“Yeah.” I smiled. “I guess so.” 

He lifted an arm up and motioned for me to move beside him, wrapping his arm around my waist. I tightened my grip around his neck, preparing myself for the feeling of soaring hundreds of feet through the night sky once again, but before I did I felt his breath against my ear, his covered lips just barely brushing against them. “For the record?” he started with an unusually joyful tone.