#lainey writes

Despite the movie having ended over 15 minutes ago, Peter didn’t have the heart to wake up. Instead, he simply stared at your soft features, drinking in how innocent and ethereal you looked as you slept. He knew it was probably creepy, but he couldn’t help it-- he was head over heels for you, and to him, you were the most beautiful thing in the universe.

“Hmm?” you blinked your eyes open, looking up into his deep brown ones through heavy lids. 

“I, uh,” His cheeks turned a rosy pink as he quickly looked away, “I asked if-- if you were awake. Yeah. That’s what I asked.”

You tried not to giggle at how nervous and shy he was around you, even though you’d been dating for almost nine months. You were fairly certain about what you’d heard him ask, but you decided not to push it and ruin the mood. “How long have I been asleep? Did the movie already end?”

“It ended a few minutes ago,” he looked back down at you, a small smile crossing his face, “I would’ve felt bad if I’d woken you up.”

“Well, you make a very good pillow,” you sat up slowly and patted his thigh before scooting into his side, snuggling up to him as he put an arm around you.

“I’ll be sure to add that to my resume.” His warm chest rumbled against your cheek as he laughed, and you were sure an adorable smile was plastered on his face.

“I love you more than anything in the whole wide world, you know that?” you mumbled into his shirt, managing to wrap your arms around his torso so you could squeeze him tightly. He answered by pressing a kiss to the top of your head, your eyes fluttering shut as he rubbed your back comfortingly. In all honesty, you could stay in his embrace forever if you were allowed to. His warm arms were like home to you now, and as you took a deep breath in, his comforting scent filled your heart with a sense of belonging. 

The fireplace crackled quietly a few feet away, the steady rise and fall of Peter’s chest beneath you already beginning to lull you back to sleep. You were floating freely in the half-asleep realm of warmth and comfort when Peter began to hum softly, the vibration of his chest beneath you causing you to sigh and sink deeper into his embrace. 

Through your sleepy haze, you could recognize him humming to the tune of your favorite christmas song; if you’d been fully awake, you would’ve sang along with him. It’s melody floated through the air, filling you to the brim with pure happiness. He continued to hum until your arms loosened around his torso, sleep having cast its spell on you at last.

Peter smiled to himself as he pressed yet another kiss to the top of your head. The light from the fire danced across your closed eyelids, your soft lashes brushing the tops of your cheeks. He swore that every time he looked at you, you managed to get even more beautiful.

How did he get so lucky?

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taglist;

@minnie-marvel​ @magic-marvel​ @quxntumvandyne​​ @imnotbitter-anna @cynicallystiles​ @laurfangirl424​ @misslunala​ @secondsineternity​ @galaxy-parker​ @peterpcrker​ @signed-potato​ @lokiislowkeyhot​ @highlady-ofthe-summercourt @veryspectacularspiderling​ @delicately-written​ @thefallenbibliophilequote​ @jupiterparker​ @buck-ets​ @newtimewriter​ @thedaughterofdawn​ @lltrashll @paradoxparker​ @propertyofmarvel​ @sagebrandy-loves-pancakes​ @flaminghottaquito​ @marvel-galaxy​ @laureharrier​ @futzingclint​ @lokiismischief​ @whycantwebefriendz​ @hedwigthelegend​ @yellowkenyon97​ @casuallytumblingdownthestairs​  @yelyahryan​ @em-aesthe​ @ @smexylemony @watermelonfruitsalad​ @thewildheroine​ @s0cial-retard​ @awkwardfangirl2014​ @nobelwarriorheroes​ @holland-haven​ @moonpadillaa @lesbianismybitchname​ @kingccbsblog @death-by-viola @marvellousparkerpeter @softrdj​ @marvel-carol-danvers​

peter parker taglist;

One day when you were sitting on the couch with Bruce discussing a tricky math problem, Tony waltzed in with a young, curly-haired boy trailing closely behind him. He looked about your age and a nervous smile graced his face when you locked eyes.

“Guys, this is Peter,” Tony introduced you to him and he waved awkwardly.

“H-Hi.”

“Peter, this is my daughter, Y/N,” he pointed to you before shifting his gaze towards Bruce, “I’m sure you already know who Doctor Banner is. Big green guy, can have a bit of a temper-”

“Tony,” Bruce warned, nodding at Peter with a soft smile.

“Aright, alright,” Tony patted the kid’s shoulder, “I’m gonna finish showing the new blood around. You two have fun.”

You couldn’t stop staring at Peter and his slightly pink cheeks as he turned to leave. After all, you were curious. It was rare to see high school aged kids in the compound, let alone ones as cute as Peter.

“Earth to Y/N…” Bruce waved his hand in front of your face, smiling when you jumped back in surprise.

‘Huh?” your cheeks heated as you scrambled to grab your pencil, “Oh yeah, uh, the math problem…”

As the weeks went on, you began to see more and more of Peter, his face popping up almost everywhere you went. Whether it be grabbing lunch in the kitchen, or taking the elevator down to the lobby, Peter was there, giving you shy side glances and small smiles. If you were being honest, it was pretty nice at first. After all, you never really got to hang out with kids your age, because it was too dangerous for you to go to a public school.

But your relationship with Peter forever changed after you got stuck in the elevator together one afternoon. Tony was rebooting FRIDAY, and in his usual fashion, forgot to inform pretty much anybody of the temporary shutdown. This left you and Peter alone in the elevator for roughly an hour. The first few minutes were awkward, which was to be expected; but after those few minutes… it felt like a spark went off. Conversation erupted, laughter filling the air as the two of you exchanged jokes and anecdotes. Whether it be meme references or results of scientific experiments, you covered it all.

From that point on, you and Peter were inseparable, doing practically everything together. There was no doubting it; he was your best friend. (And if you were being completely honest with yourself, there were probably some underlying feelings that were a bit more… romantic.)

Everything was smooth sailing for a while, uncontrollable laughter filling the corridors wherever the two of you went. Of course, you had your ups and downs, but nothing too serious ever kept you apart for more than a day. It was an ongoing joke at the tower that the two of you were attached at the hip. Hell, Peter even began to come along with you to some of your family activities. After all, he was practically family now.

But nothing that’s perfect lasts for long.

Things started to fall apart on a normal Friday night. It was 8:32pm, and you’d just popped some popcorn in preparation for your and Clint’s weekly movie night. But when you stepped into the room, the sounds of laughter already filled the air, a movie playing as background noise to the conversation. Peter and Clint were sitting on the couch, throwing pieces of popcorn at each other in a playfully competitive way.

“What’re you guys doing?” you blurted out, somewhat shocked by the whole situation.

Peter and Clint snapped their heads in your direction, Peter’s face lighting up upon seeing you. “Oh, hey Y/N!” he chirped, flashing you a happy smile, “Clint and I were just watching a movie… or at least trying to…” he giggled, gesturing towards the popcorn bowls, “Wanna join?”

“Oh. Uh…” you paused, a little unsure of what to do. In all honesty, you didn’t really know how to react to the scene laid out before you; you didn’t even know how you felt. Sure, you felt a little upset, but you were also understanding of the situation. But more than anything, you were just… confused.

Why did Clint not wait for you to come into the room before beginning the movie? Why was Peter even here for him to watch a movie with? He should’ve been at home with May. Did Clint invite him to watch the movie, or did Peter suggest it himself? Why weren’t you included in any of this?

“I actually think I have some chemistry homework or something, so, uh, I should go.”

“Aw man,” Peter pouted, sticking out his bottom lip, “Well, good luck on your homework! If you get done early, you should come back down and hang with us.”

You flashed him a tight smile before letting your eyes drift over to Clint, almost immediately looking away when your gazes met. He was giving you the look that told you he wasn’t buying any of your excuses. After all, he could see through pretty much any ruse you threw at him.

“Pete, can you give us a sec?” Clint patted his shoulder and walked over to you, nodding his head towards the hallway to signal Peter to leave the room. “Listen, Y/N, Peter really wanted to watch this movie, and I wasn’t sure if you were coming down tonight—”

“Clint, it’s fine,” you held up a palm, trying to reassure him when he gave you another disbelieving look, “I promise. I get it, I really do.”

After a few moments of consideration, he pulled you into a side hug, ruffling your hair. “If you say so, kiddo.”

A few hours later, when you were laying in bed, you just couldn’t get what had happened off of your mind. You doubted it was intentional, and you had to admit, it was a pretty small thing to get upset over. Besides, you weren’t one to hold a grudge. Deciding it was best to put it behind you, you rolled over and fell asleep, hoping that the incident would be a one-time thing.

If only you’d realized just how wrong you were.

— -

From that point on, things started to go downhill, and fast. More and more often, you were finding Peter doing things you used to do with the whole group. At first, you tried to force yourself into things and make yourself known. But no matter how much you spoke up or how hard you tried, you still somehow felt like an outsider in your own home; an outcast in your own family.

Nobody paid attention to you, no matter how hard you tried. All they seemed to do was fawn over their baby Peter, making sure that he was okay and that he knew he was the apple of their eye.

You felt like a background character in everybody’s lives, including your own.

Eventually, you gave up trying to be included. You began to lock yourself in your room, isolating yourself from everybody in the compound, Peter included. Peter knew something was up, but when he tried to ask you about it, you brushed it off, telling him he was imagining things. Just because you were upset didn’t mean you had to bring him down with you, right?

You knew that you could always talk to the group about how you felt, but you didn’t want to cause any trouble. So, you kept it all inside, locked in a small box hidden in the back of your mind. Every time something new happened, you’d open up the box and throw your feelings in there, always sure to never let a word slip out.

But the thing about that hidden box was that it was bound to overflow. After all, it was a finite space, and you couldn’t keep locking away your feelings without snapping.

That snap finally came when you walked into the lab one afternoon, seeing Peter and Bruce working on some sort of small machine. Taking a few steps closer, your heart dropped when you recognized that small machine as your personal project; an experiment that you’d been working on for years. You’d only told Tony about it because it was so personal to you (and even if you had tried to tell the others, you doubted they would have cared.)

“Huh… try connecting this wire to that one,” Bruce pointed to the object, deep in thought. Peter stuck out his tongue slightly as he carefully reconnected the wires, cheering when the device whirred to life successfully.

“Yes!” he grinned, giving Bruce a high five, “I can’t believe we—”

He paused when he saw you in the doorway, his smile softening a bit, “Hey Y/N! Wanna check out this cool project Bruce and I just finished? We found it sitting in the lab and decided to fix it up!”

You stood frozen, not even sure how to react. Your initial response was anger, a surge of betrayal spreading through your veins like fire. “I’m good.” you said through gritted teeth, taking a deep breath.

“You sure? It’s really cool! I can explain how it works if you want—”

“I already know how it works!” you blurted out, exasperation and annoyance soaking every syllable, “It was my project. I made that. I’ve been working on it for years. So no, I don’t need your explanation on how it works. That wasn’t yours to tamper with.”

“Y/N,” Bruce said with concern, “Is everything okay? This doesn’t seem like you. We didn’t know the project was yours; it was an honest mistake.”

“How would you have known? It isn’t like you pay attention to me anymore,” you scoffed, glaring daggers at the pair, “Besides, even if you had known, I’m sure that you would’ve finish it anyways if Peter had wanted to. You guys do whatever the hell he wants, yet you can’t even find the time to say goodnight to me anymore.”

“Woah, where is this coming from?” Bruce looked genuinely confused, “Who said we weren’t paying attention to you?” Peter sat there dumbfounded as you crossed your arms, Bruce holding up his hands in defense.

“Just— forget it.” You took a deep breath and stormed off, ignoring the calls of your name as the door slammed behind you. As you went on a rampage through the compound, you drew stares from everyone. A few called out to you, asking you what was wrong, but you just kept going until you finally reached your room. Shutting your door softly, you collapsed on your bed, letting out a scream into your pillow. Every emotion was hitting you at once, causing you to feel insanely overwhelmed and helpless.

Your face was buried in a pillow when you heard a knock on your door. “What is it?” you grumbled, rolling your eyes when you heard Bruce’s voice.

“Y/N, could you come downstairs for a minute?”

“Why?” you lifted the pillow from your face, glaring at him before flipping over onto your side to face away from the doorway, “I’m perfectly fine.”

“We need to talk to you.”

“Why do you need me when you could just talk to Peter?”

Bruce sighed deeply, despite already knowing that getting you downstairs was going to be a challenge from the beginning. “You know that’s not true. Just come down for five minutes, then you can come back up to sulk.”

Groaning dramatically, you rolled off of your bed and hit the floor with a soft thump. “Fine,” you called out from your spot on the carpet behind the bed. When you heard the door shut, you slowly sat up, making your way down to the main room as slowly as humanly possible.

As soon as you took a step into the room, everybody’s heads snapped to attention. A quick glance around showed you that basically the entire team was in the room, ready to have this conversation with you. You weren’t intimidated, just reluctant to talk about the topic (mostly out of spite.) And then, your eyes landed on Peter.

“I don’t wanna talk if he’s gonna be here.” Peter looked down guiltily and messed with the hem of his shirt, trying to avoid your heated gaze.

“Y/N,” Steve began in his ‘i’m giving a speech and you will listen to me’ voice, “This clearly involves the both of you, so Peter stays.”

“It’s...” Peter began to stand up, “It’s okay, I can just leave—”

Steve reached out and grabbed his arm gently, “Peter, we want you here, for this conversation—”

“I don’t.” Cap shot you a stern look, causing you to simply cross your arms in defense.

“Y/N, you’re being unreasonable,” Clint butted in, “Peter didn’t do anything intentionally to hurt you, and he wants to make it right. We all wanna make it right.”

“Unreasonable?” you scoff, gesturing wildly around you, “I’m unreasonable for not wanting to see Peter? For not wanting to see you guys? You’ve all been perfectly fine with me pining after you for the past few weeks, but when I finally give up, suddenly you’re concerned.”

Tears were filling your eyes, but you were unaware that they were also filling Peter’s.

He pulled away from Steve, taking a few steps back towards the door. “I should leave,” he began, being interrupted by a loud protest from the group of avengers sitting in the large room.

“Just-just stop!” he yelled, effectively silencing them, “Isn’t it obvious? I only seem to make things worse. I’m clearly not helping the situation. Y/N doesn’t want to be anywhere near me. She doesn’t want anything to do with me. Am I wrong?”

Peter had known something was up with you the past few weeks, but he hadn’t realized that he was the one hurting you. It killed him. You were his best friend, and the last thing in the world he’d ever want to do is cause you pain.

“She doesn’t think that—”

“I wasn’t asking you, Bruce!” he exasperated, turning to you as a tear slipped down your cheek, “Am I wrong, Y/N?”

You didn’t confirm his statements, but you didn’t deny them, either. Instead, you simply stood there, wiping the fallen tear from your cheek. Peter exhaled heavily, taking your silence as a confirmation of everything he’d assumed. Giving everyone a short nod, he walked out into the hallway, nobody speaking up until he’d left.

“What’s gotten into you?” your dad asked, clearly fed up with the way you were acting.

“What’s gotten into me?” you gawked, raising your tone in anger, “What’s gotten into me is that I’m an outcast in my own family! You guys ignore me and all of our special traditions in favor of running off and doing them with Peter instead. It’s like— it’s like I’m not even your kid anymore! I’m a background character in my own life! Nothing I do impacts you, and you can’t even pretend like you care about my feelings. If you cared, you wouldn’t have neglected and ignored me in the first place. Once a newer, better version of me came along, you were quick to leave me in the dust.”

You’d completely broken down at this point, voice breaking from an angry scream to a teary-eyed cry as you finally unlocked your hidden box.

“I just don’t wanna be left behind.”

The room was speechless. In their minds, you’d just been adjusting to the new addition to the compound. They’d had no idea that you’d felt replaced by Peter. A feeling of guilt soaked into almost every heart in the room, the sight of the sad and tired child in front of them enough to almost bring them to tears.

“You’re our family,” Natasha offered, trying to make you feel better, “We’d never leave you behind.”

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Steve interrupted, earning a glare from Nat, “If we’d known, we would’ve done something about it.”

“Because it isn’t my job to tell you,” you whispered, voice cracking, “The saddest part is just that— you had no idea that I was even pulling away until I finally snapped. I know that I’m supposed to communicate with you… but all I needed was one of you to reach out. You couldn’t even do that. And… the one person who did is sitting outside right now, beating themselves up for something that you guys did.”

Tony began to speak, but you cut him off by raising a hand in objection. “If you’ll excuse me,” you sniffed, straightening your shoulders and walking towards the door, “I think I owe somebody an apology.”

— -

You found Peter outside on the patio looking out into the green surrounding the compound. He was sitting on the ground, knees pulled up to his chest. Small sniffles came from him every few seconds, and his curly hair was a mess.

“You didn’t have to come out here,” he croaked, turning to look at you as you took a seat next to him.

“I kinda did,” you smiled a bit, “You been crying?”

Peter nodded. “You don’t look too happy yourself.”

You let out a sad laugh, wiping off a few remaining tears. “I owe you an apology.”

He froze at that. “An apology?” Confusion was tugging at his features, curiosity glowing in his eyes.

“Yeah,” you exhaled, wringing your hands together, “None of this was your fault. You couldn’t have known that you were encroaching on anything.”

He shrugged, wiping his nose, “I should’ve picked up on it, though.”

“You did,” you placed a hand on his arm, squeezing gently, “I just wouldn’t open up to you. That’s on me. The rest of it… well, that’s on the team. But you looked out for me even when they failed to, and I’m really grateful for that.”

You paused, taking a few seconds to gather your thoughts. Peter covered your hand with his own, running his fingers lightly against the back of your knuckles. “And I’m sorry for blowing up at you like that. I’m sorry for ignoring you and shutting you out instead of letting you in. It only made the issue worse, and it made you feel guilty for something that isn’t your fault.”

Tears stung the back of your eyes, threatening to spill down over your cheeks all over again as you whispered, “I’m sorry, Pete.”

Lifting his arm, Peter slung himself around your shoulders, pulling you into a big side hug. He was warm, his t-shirt soft between your fingers as you gripped it tightly and cried into his shoulder.

“It’s okay, Y/N,” he consoled, rubbing small circles on your back as you hiccupped, “It’s okay.”

Slowly, your tears began to dry, and a wave of exhaustion began to spread throughout your chest. Your lungs were heavy and the air was somehow warmer as Peter continued to rub circles on your back, lulling you into a post-cry nap. Before you knew it, you were asleep, your grip on his shirt growing loose. He stroked your hair before repositioning you so you’d be more comfortable lying against him.

Peter’s head jerked up when he heard the door open, eyes widening when he saw Steve walk over towards the two of you.

“How is she, kid?” he put his hands into his pockets, gazing out at the greenery in front of him.

“She was pretty upset. I don’t think it’s gonna be fixed overnight,” Peter paused, “Where’s Mr. Stark and the rest of the team?” “We thought it’d be best to only send one person out here to get her, and Tony didn’t think she was too happy with him,” Steve explained, sadness and guilt in his gaze as he looked over at you, “Not that she’s happy with me, either.”

The vibrations from Peter’s chest as they spoke stirred you awake, causing you to blink a few times in an attempt to shake away some of the sleepiness. “Steve?” you yawned, turning to the man standing a few feet away, “What do you want?”

“To see what we can all do to make this better,” Bruce spoke up from the doorway, taking a few steps out onto the patio before the rest of the team followed.

“We messed up and we wanna fix it,” Tony shrugged, but not without throwing you an apologetic glance.

“Just… don’t be inconsiderate dicks anymore, okay?” you sighed, rubbing your face roughly in exasperation, “And give me some time. I’m upset, and that hurt isn’t gonna go away overnight. I need to process stuff, ya know.”

“Cap, you okay with that language?” Your dad joked, raising his hands in defense when you shot him a death glare, “What? He’s an old man. He can’t handle those words, Y/N.”

“And I want some really good apologies. Like, ten-page-long handwritten apology letters. Delivered by pigeon.”

“Deal. Sam, what’s our pigeon status?” Tony threw over his shoulder, earning a glare from Sam.

“I. Don’t. Talk. To. Birds,” he rolled his eyes, “You two have got to drop that bit, or I think I’m gonna lose my mind.”

“Whatever you say, birdman,” you winked before shooing the team away, “Now, can you guys leave us alone? We were having a best friend moment.”

“Okay, okay,” Bruce laughed, shouting over his shoulder as Steve pushed him along, “But we are gonna talk about this in more detail later.”

“Have your apology letter ready!” you sang, waving him goodbye with a cheesy smile until the door shut behind the group.

You turned back around with a sigh, looping your arm through Peter’s. “Thank you, Peter,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek, smiling a bit when his face flushed red, “You’re the bestest best friend I could ever ask for.”

“Just… be sure to talk to me next time, okay?” he responded, giving the hand wrapped around his forearm a squeeze, “I’m always here for you.”

He paused.

“Plus, I missed you a lot.”

“You got it,” you breathed as you laid your head on his shoulder, “And don’t worry, I missed you too.”

taglist + a few mutuals;

@minnie-marvel @magic-marvel @quxntumvandyne @imnotbitter-anna @cynicallystiles @laurfangirl424 @misslunala @secondsineternity @galaxy-parker @peterpcrker @signed-potato @lokiislowkeyhot @highlady-ofthe-summercourt @veryspectacularspiderling @delicately-written @thefallenbibliophilequote @jupiterparker @buck-ets @newtimewriter @thedaughterofdawn @lltrashll @paradoxparker @propertyofmarvel @sagebrandy-loves-pancakes @flaminghottaquito @marvel-galaxy @laureharrier @futzingclint @lokiismischief @whycantwebefriendz @hedwigthelegend @yellowkenyon97 @casuallytumblingdownthestairs  @yelyahryan @em-aesthe @ @smexylemony @watermelonfruitsalad @thewildheroine @s0cial-retard @awkwardfangirl2014 @nobelwarriorheroes @holland-haven @moonpadillaa @lesbianismybitchname @kingccbsblog @upsidedownparker

peter parker taglist;

@lostnliterature​ @lovely-parker​ @johnmulaneyslut​ @irxnspxder​ @lovinnholland​ @alyssaaaas-stuff

Now, to be clear, Peter loved seeing you in his clothes. You always looked so soft, and he couldn’t resist the smile that graced your face when your head would pop through the neckhole, hair slightly tousled. 

He adored the way you would pull the sleeves over your hands and give yourself a hug, saying it was basically the same as a hug from him when he was away. He cherished the way you would send him selfies in them, the hood pulled over your head as you snuggled with the large teddy bear he got you for Valentine’s Day.

So, it was safe to say that Peter was more than happy to let you borrow his clothes any day. The only issue was… he was starting to run out of clothes to lend. As much as he loved you, he also knew you were a pretty forgetful person. You managed to stay on top of your grades and extracurricular activities with ease, yet you struggled to remember to buy milk when you went to the store. 

This led to his borrowed sweatshirts remaining at your house for months, leaving him with a shortage of clothing. He never had the heart to ask for his stuff back, but he knew it was time for you to return at least a few of his things.

Shrugging, Peter threw on the stained hoodie before running out to May, being sure to send you a text as he was leaving the apartment. He’d worn worse out of the house before, especially after his argument with Tony.

— -

Bing! Yawning, you sat up in bed, rubbing your eyes a few times before reaching out for your phone on the nightstand. You’d fallen asleep binging Netflix again, leading you to sleep in a few hours later than expected. Taking a moment to stretch, you swiped open the screen of your phone and read the newest message from your boyfriend.

Pete: hey! i’m out with May rn, and if it’s cool, i’m gonna stop by this afternoon to pick up some of the clothes you’ve borrowed

You: okay! i’ll have them washed by the time you get here

Pete: also… maybe we should have an intervention for you. i literally only have one clean hoodie, and i’m wearing it rn

You: are you suggesting that i have a problem? i can guarantee that i most definitely do not.

Pete: hmm… guess we’ll let the court decide.

You laughed to yourself and locked your phone before stepping out of bed, almost tripping over the shoes that you’d left on the floor the night before.

“Oops,” you murmured to yourself, scanning your room for any of Peter’s sweatshirts. After trying to balance about six or seven garments in your arms, you decided that maybe you should grab a basket to hold them in.

Or two.

Or three.

Okay, maybe you did have a slight problem. And why did Peter own so many sweatshirts?

It took three loads of laundry just to clean the sweatshirts, and thankfully, you were pulling the last load out of the dryer when there was a knock at your door. 

“Coming!” you called as you ran towards the front entryway, opening up the door to a smiling Peter Parker.

“I believe you have something of mine,” he joked, stepping inside when you moved out of the doorway.

“More like some-things,” you laughed, walking back over to the dryer to fold the sweatshirts, “Like, plural.”

“Told you that you have a problem,” he shrugged in an I-told-you-so way, beginning to help you fold the clothes, “Do we need to have that intervention I mentioned?”

“Listen, I’m not THAT obsessed—” you paused when he raised his eyebrows and looked down at the sweatshirt you were wearing, your cheeks turning red upon the realization that it was one of his. 

“You were saying?”

“Okay, you might have a point,” you giggled and tugged on the sleeves, “But, we both know that you don’t mind seeing me in your stuff. It’s a win-win situation.”

“You’re not wrong,” he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into a warm side hug. He smelled like vanilla, and his hoodie was soft against your cheek as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“So…” you pulled away and gave him puppy dog eyes as you pointed down to the sweatshirt you were wearing, “Can I at least keep this one? Just for today?”

“Hmm…” he placed a hand on his chin, pretending to consider your plea, “I don’t know…”

“Pleaseeee!” you stuck out your lower lip, “I promise I’ll give it back. Really.”

“You know what?” he dropped his hand from his face, “You can just keep that one. Forever.”

“Thank youuuuu!” you sang and did a little jump, squealing when Peter grabbed you around the waist and lifted you up. He spun you around in a circle before setting you back down, his cheeks tinted pink. You always looked beautiful, but in this moment, you were glowing brighter than he’d ever seen before.“But… maybe you should take it back sometimes. I don’t want it to stop smelling like you.”

Peter simply giggled in response, taking a moment to brush a stray hair away from your face before bringing his hand down to hold your jaw. His thumb was rough against your cheek, calloused and worn from his superhero-ing; but his touch still felt like home.

And that was just it, wasn’t it? No matter where you were or what you were doing, Peter was always your home. 

taglist;

@minnie-marvel @magic-marvel @quxntumvandyne @imnotbitter-anna @cynicallystiles @laurfangirl424 @misslunala @secondsineternity @galaxy-parker @peterpcrker @signed-potato @lokiislowkeyhot @highlady-ofthe-summercourt @veryspectacularspiderling @delicately-written @thefallenbibliophilequote @jupiterparker @buck-ets @newtimewriter @thedaughterofdawn @lltrashll @paradoxparker @propertyofmarvel @sagebrandy-loves-pancakes @flaminghottaquito @marvel-galaxy @laureharrier @futzingclint @lokiismischief @whycantwebefriendz @hedwigthelegend @yellowkenyon97 @casuallytumblingdownthestairs  @yelyahryan @em-aesthe @ @smexylemony @watermelonfruitsalad @thewildheroine @s0cial-retard @awkwardfangirl2014 @nobelwarriorheroes @holland-haven @moonpadillaa @lesbianismybitchname @kingccbsblog @death-by-viola @parrkerspeters

peter parker taglist;

@lostnliterature @lovely-parker @johnmulaneyslut @irxnspxder @lovinnholland @peterparker-glee-other @whorecruxs @peterswetsocks

Hands tightening into fists, you lifted your chin and slowly got back to your feet once more. “Is that all you’ve got?” you attempted to joke, blood trickling down your forehead and your body aching, “I really thought you’d be better at this.”

The villain said nothing; instead, he simply cracked his knuckles before swiftly knocking you off of your feet with a sharp blow to your head, a wry smile twisting his face.

“I think it’s about time we finished this.”

Your vision was swimming as you tried to inch backwards, his footsteps echoing in the dark and damp alleyway as he loomed closer. No matter how hard you concentrated, you couldn’t move quickly. You were on the edge of unconsciousness, and you were pretty sure that any sudden movements would cause you to slip under.  

“Thanks for the entertainment,” he leered, “Tonight started out a little boring, but this was somewhat interesting. Too bad it’s over now.”

Although you couldn’t see what he was doing, your spider senses began to fire off, causing you to flinch as he dealt the final blow.

But the final blow never came.

In a split second, you were flying through the air, wind whooshing by your face and whipping your hair around your face. It tugged on your cheap black mask, threatening to rip it right off. As the seconds dragged on, you managed to halfway gather your thoughts, trying to process what just happened. One minute, you were laying on the ground; the next, you were flying across the city with… wait…

Who was holding you?

Cracking your eyes open, you saw one… no, two… maybe three? Red masked figures clutching you tightly.

“SpiderMan?” you mumbled, head still spinning.

He glanced over at you before webbing up to a rooftop, setting you down gently. “I’ll be right back,” he reassured you, jumping back over the edge and leaving you to your own thoughts.

Now that you were alone again, you laid down and tried to figure out what all was wrong with you and what had just happened. Your forehead was bleeding, you probably had a broken bone or two, and you were fairly sure you had a concussion. But, you weren’t going to die, and that was your main concern.

“You okay?”

“Hm?” you jerked your head up, surprised you hadn’t realized that the hero had returned, “Oh, yeah. I’ll be okay; I just needed to clear my head.”

“He’s taken care of, by the way,” he scratched the back of his neck, “He shouldn’t be bothering anyone anymore.”

“Good,” you nodded, wincing a bit when pain pressed on the back of your eyes.

It was silent for a moment, the two of you on the roof together. You noticed that his white mask eyes hadn’t left you the entire time; in fact, it seemed like he was studying you. “Is there something wrong?” you reached up to touch your face, realizing that your mask was still on your face, “O-oh, I can explain that-”

“You don’t- you don’t need to,” he interrupted you, “Well, I just meant that I, uh, I know about your… powers. I saw you trying to use them earlier.”

“Oh.” your heart sank. Here he was, the real SpiderMan, and he saw you make a fool of yourself.

“B-but, uh, if you don’t mind, I would really like to know how you got them.”

“Well, I’m not really sure, if I’m being honest,” you shrugged, trying to situate yourself so you’d be more comfortable while your body healed, “About a week or so ago, I was visiting a research facility that the place I intern at does business with. When they were in the back getting the files I needed, a spider dropped down from the ceiling and bit my hand. I’m not sure if that’s where these powers came from, but when I woke up the next morning, I most definitely was not the same person I was when I went to sleep.”

He nodded, narrowing his eyes as if he was thinking. “Yeah, that’s about how I got mine.”

“Did- did it take you a long time to get used to your powers?” you blurted, curiosity taking over, “I know I’ve only had them for a week, but I’m really struggling with learning how to use them well.”

“Ohhhh yeah,” he chuckled a little bit, “When I woke up the first morning with my powers, I literally destroyed my alarm clock because I couldn’t control my own strength.”

You giggled, picturing the masked hero smashing an innocent alarm clock to bits and pieces. “I’ve already broken off two door knobs. I just wish there were teachers for these kinds of things.”

“What if…. what if I was your teacher?” he threw out into the open after laughing at your comment, “Obviously, if you don’t wanna do that, I totally get it. But if you wanted to, I could try to teach you how to use your powers and maybe you could help me out around the city?”

You sat in shock for a moment before giving your answer, barely even having to consider the offer.

“Let’s do this.”

He stuck out his hand, helping you up from the ground before giving you a firm handshake. “Awesome! Can you meet me back here tomorrow night? The sooner we get started, the better.”

“See you then,” you smiled, excitement already floodinding your veins. You definitely weren’t sleeping tonight.

____________

“Peter!” you shouted, running up to your friend, “You will not believe what happened last night?”

“Oh?” he joked, looking up from his work, “I’m ready to hear all about it.”

“I met SpiderMan!” you cheered, pulling out a chair and plopping down next to him, “He was so cool! He was all like thwip! thwip! thwip!” -you made the sign with your hand- “and stuff!”

“R-really?,” he froze for a moment before smiling awkwardly, tapping his pencil on his notebook, “How’d you meet him?”

“Uhhh…” you froze, “He was just, um, in the area. I went over and said hi? Yeah, I went over and said hey.”

“Mhm,” he nodded, “That’s- that’s awesome.”

“It was,” you sighed, thinking back to the previous night. “It really was.”

You weren’t quite sure what, but something was off. Peter went back to work as you sat and thought, the answer to what was bothering you finally presenting itself:

SpiderMan never asked you who you were or whether or not you’d use your powers for good. He knew nothing about you. Why did he trust you so quickly?

Maybe he knew more than you thought he did.

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“Everything okay?” he asked after crawling through the now open window, being sure to close it behind him. “You seem a little down.”

“Eh,” you shrugged, “Chris cancelled on me again. It’s okay though, I kinda saw it coming. I just don’t have anyone to go to the fair with anymore.”

“That really sucks,” Peter sat down onto the floor, making a light thump noise, “Hey, if you want, I could go with you to the fair—”

“Really?” you squealed, jumping up from your spot on the bed, “Yes! It’ll be so much fun! We can ride the dropper, and the swings, and then the ferris wheel…”

As you continued to elaborate on all of the fun you’d have, you never once noticed Peter’s gaze. It followed you from the floor as you walked in circles, and his cheeks were tinted a rosy pink. His crush on you was common knowledge to most at this point, but you’d remained blissfully unaware.

“Y-yeah,” he smiled, “I can’t wait!”

— -

“Come on, Pete!” you tugged his hand and dragged him forward as he stumbled behind you.

“I am coming!”

You halted to a stop at the ticket booth before giving the cashier a big smile. “Two wristbands, please!”

She glanced between you and Peter before speaking back through the small silver mic. “That’ll be twenty dollars with the added couples discount.”

“O-oh, we’re not—” Peter began, only to be interrupted by you.

“Great!” you slid a twenty dollar bill across the counter, winking at Peter when the lady slid back two wristbands in return.

“Why’d you do that?” he asked with curiosity as you walked away from the booth. He quickly fastened your bracelet onto your wrist, holding out his own for you to help with once he’d finished.

“It saved us some money, didn’t it?” you shrugged, “Fairs are expensive enough as it is, and we’re broke highschoolers. I’ll take all the discounts I can get.”

As the night continued on, you and Peter hopped from ride to ride, letting out yelps of joy as they spun you around. You even played a few games, winning a large stuffed Spider-Man from Peter.

“It looks just like you!” you giggled, squeezing it tight to your chest. It was soft, and just the perfect size to snuggle with. Peter laughed lightly in return, secretly wishing that you’d hug him like that one day, too.

— -

“Let’s ride the ferris wheel before we leave!” it was a few hours since you’d arrived at the fair when you pointed in the direction of the large ride, the lights reflecting in your eyes. Peter nodded in agreement, and before you knew it, he was above you in the white cart, extending a hand for you to grab.

“Why thank you, good sir,” you winked, taking his hand as he gently pulled you up into the cart.

He bowed down jokingly before taking his seat. “Of course, M’lady.”

You giggled, which made him giggle, which evolved into a laugh, which just made you laugh even harder. It was a laughing fit; one that left your stomach aching even after the giggles died down.

You couldn’t remember the last time Chris had made you laugh like that.

The cart was moving up slowly as the operators allowed more people to board, eventually allowing you to reach the top of the wheel and sit there for a moment. The view was beautiful; you could see all the lights of the fair below you, but beyond that the city in the distance lit up the night sky. There were almost no clouds, and the stars were shining brighter than you’d ever seen.

“Wow,” Peter breathed, gazing out across the fairgrounds, “It’s really pretty up here.”

You were about to agree, but for some reason, your voice caught in your throat. Something about the way his curls swayed in the breeze and the way his brown eyes lit up with adoration rendered you speechless.

“So, how are things with Chris?” the second Peter uttered those words, the spell was broken, and you were brought back into reality.

“Uh…” you paused, unsure of how to answer, “To tell you the truth, I really don’t know. I feel like… our relationship has kinda died out, ya know? We haven’t seen each other in like, two weeks, but it hasn’t really affected me. I think that we’re just holding on because neither of us want to be the one to end things, but there isn’t anything there for us anymore. Plus… I think I’ve been slowly falling for somebody else.”

The more you thought about it, the more you realized that you really weren’t that upset over Chris. You felt like you barely knew him anymore. Not only that, but you felt like he might be holding you back from finding somebody else; somebody you really had a future with.

“Maybe you should tell the person how you feel…”

Your head jerked up as you looked into the sparkling eyes of Peter. “M-Maybe I will…”

He gave you a soft smile, but as soon as you grabbed his hand, his eyes blew open in shock.

“Pete?” you whispered, casting your gaze to the worn out gray floor of the cart, “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course—” you were already interrupting him before he could finish his sentence, too nervous to hold it in any longer.

“I really like you. A lot. A lot lot.” It was silent for a moment before he lightly grasped your chin, tilting your head up so you were gazing into his eyes. They were bright and happy, and you were almost certain that you could feel the warmth radiating from them.

“Y/N, I…” his eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips a few times before he leaned in, only to be stopped by a finger placed lightly on his lips.

“I’m not single yet, Parker,” you raised an eyebrow at him, “I may like you, but I’m no cheater. This can’t go any further until Chris and I are officially done.”

“Of course, of course,” he nodded and rubbed the back of his neck, the blush on his cheeks standing out against his skin, “I don’t know what I was thinking. I really am an idiot.”

“Only sometimes,” you winked, laughing when he lightly punched your arm, “I’ll talk to Chris as soon as I can. Hopefully he’s free tomorrow.”

— -

“See you around?” the blonde haired boy in front of you asked, tilting his head to the side with a slight smile on his face. Even during a time like this, you had to admire his ability to see the best in every situation.

“Of course, Chris,” you threw him a wave before heading your own way.

As much as the two of you had been expecting this to happen, it still hurt more than you’d thought it would. You weren’t really heartbroken… just a little sad. Even though the relationship had really been dying for a while, it was still the official end of something that had made you happy at one point in time.

You’d been 100% honest with Chris, explaining that what had happened at the fair had really opened your eyes. You made it clear that you hadn’t done anything dishonest with Peter, but you had developed feelings for him near the end of your relationship. Chris was understanding, even explaining to you that he was in a really similar situation with a girl named Liz who lived down his street.

Although you were somewhat upset, you were happy that you could both leave the relationship on amicable terms.

— -

Later that night, you were watching a movie with Peter in your backyard, laying out on a blanket on the grass. His arm was around your shoulders, and even though his touch comforted you, you sat up and scooted away from him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, worry filling his eyes when he noticed that you were tearing up.

“I— I still like you a lot, Pete. I just need a little while to adjust before we can really dive into this whole relationship thing,” you sniffled, wiping your nose, “It’s just kinda fast. I need you to hold me as a friend, not a boyfriend, right now.” He nodded and opened his arms, allowing you to bury your face in his shoulder.

— -

“Ooh, let’s ride the ferris wheel!” you’d linked your elbow with Peter’s, and your hand rested on his bicep. It was roughly a year since you’d confessed to him, and things were going almost perfectly.

“Hey, Y/N!”

You’d recognize that voice anywhere. Throwing your head over your shoulder, you spot Chris, who’s walking up to you with who you assumed was Liz holding his hand.

The four of you exchanged small talk for a few minutes before you parted ways, feeling slightly awkward but mostly happy. You and Chris hadn’t been right for each other, but you both found the people who were right for you, and that’s what mattered.

“So…” Peter nudged your shoulder with his. The two of you had made your way onto the ferris wheel after your conversation had ended, and the cart was once again stopped at the very top. “It’s been about a year since we were here last…”

“And?” you made a ‘get on with it’ gesture with your hands, wondering what in the world he was about to ask you.

“I was wondering…” he dragged out on purpose, your heart beating a little faster with every second, “If we could kiss at the top? Since we didn’t get to last time.”

“You’re crazy, you know that?” you laughed, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his lips.

“One more? So we can have one for each year.”

“You’re such a piece of work,” you kissed him again before laying your head on his shoulder, “But, you’re my piece of work.”

As silly as Peter was sometimes, you couldn’t deny it; he was the one you were meant to spend your life with.

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When you needed to let go of reality you’d write songs, singing them softly into the cheap mic on your headphones in the moonlight from your window. The melodies would flow past your lips with ease, their notes sweet and somber. They da-nced around your dimly lit room, the darkness making them so much more precious and personal.

One night when you were with Peter, he noticed you humming, asking you with a soft smile if you could show him the rest of your creations. You were hesitant at first but eventually relented, putting your favorite works onto a tape for him. All of your deepest feelings were on that tape and when you handed it to Peter, you so carefully noted that he was holding a piece of you in his hand; a piece of you that nobody had ever seen before. He planted a kiss on your cheek, explaining just how excited he was to listen to your songs later. When he got home, he threw the tape haphazardly onto the floor, just to be covered by dirty clothes or kicked under the dresser by accident.

He never really listened to them, not even once.

And here you are, sitting on the floor of your room still halfway hopeful that he might show up. Glancing out the window, you gaze out at the clear night sky, the events of the day not matching up with the beauty of the stars watching down on you. Lifting up your phone, you bit your nails as you gazed at the empty screen, checking for any missed calls for the hundredth time. He said he’d call, but who were you kidding? Of course he wouldn’t; you should’ve known.

He’s not here again, and you can’t find even a little bit of surprise buried deep in your heart. You hate how many missed calls and ignored texts it took you to realize that Peter doesn’t remember, or maybe he doesn’t even care.

It’s your birthday, and he’s still not here.

Turning your head towards your clock, you let out a deep sigh. It’s 2 am, and the candles that you’d lit earlier are all burned out, leaving the faint scent of vanilla to float in the air until it slowly fizzles out. Sighing, you cross your legs, sniffling as you juggle your phone in your hands. Not even a peep from Peter. Your chest felt heavy with sadness, and the weight of your phone didn’t match the burden of the (lack of) message it carried. You could pretend that it’s okay; you understand, just like always.

But the thing is, you just don’t. You’ve been waiting around for hours, but in all honesty you should’ve known he wouldn’t show. Now, you’re just a fool who spent their birthday all alone.

You never asked for anything more than one ‘happy birthday.’ Even though he didn’t come through to celebrate, there was no reason he couldn’t have sent you a text. It wouldn’t have killed him to leave you a voicemail, letting you know that he was thinking about you on your special day.

But no. He disappeared, dropping right off the face of the earth like always. God, it was so typical of him, wasn’t it? Were you ever on his mind if he wasn’t with you?

Tears begin to stream down your face, sobs filling your throat and blubbering past your lips. You pull your knees in tightly to your chest as you make fruitless attempts to wipe your face clean of the salty drops soaking into your skin. Peter didn’t love you, no matter what he said. People don’t treat the ones they love like this.

It wasn’t fair to you, and it was about time you did something about it.

__________

Sunlight streams through your window and shines into your eyes, waking you up from the short sleep that you managed to get in post-cry. Lifting your phone from its place on your nightstand, you see that you have three missed calls from Peter.

“You’re kidding me,” you groan, rubbing your eyes in exhaustion and annoyance. Just as you’re about to click your phone off and go back to sleep, his name pops up on the screen again, the answer button practically begging you to click. Sighing, you swipe your thumb across the screen, holding up the phone to your ear silently.

“Y/N, I can explain everything,” he immediately begins to talk, offering almost every excuse in his book. (He made sure that they were as vague as possible, of course.) Something about how he totally meant to come, he was just busy and lost track of time. He also makes sure that you know it isn’t his fault. He’s so sorry, but you understand, right?

“You there, Y/N?” he questions when he realizes you haven’t spoken a word the whole time, false concern saturating his voice.

You have no idea what to even begin with. You’re tired of being treated as if you’re worth nothing, and you’re at the end of your rope. Nothing he can say in response could possibly alter the outcome of the conversation, and you’re determined to make sure it stays that way.

“I don’t get it, Peter,” you say flatly, having cried out most of your emotions last night, “And I’m not going to let you make any excuses.”

“Wait, what? Excuses?” he sounds genuinely shocked before recovering quickly, “Y/N, I- I love you-”

“Cut the bullshit,” you interrupt. Your voice is steady, but full of emotion when you finally release all of the feelings you’d bottled up inside during the months and months of the absolute hell that was dating Peter Parker. “If you loved me you wouldn’t treat me like this, so I don’t wanna hear that sad excuse anymore. You’re done dragging me along like I’m only there so you can have somebody when you’re bored. You’re done treating me like I’m nonexistent until you need something. And most of all, you’re done keeping me around with your empty promises and meaningless confessions of love. We’re done, Peter.”

“You don’t mean that, do you-”

You hang up the phone, tossing it across the room when it lights up with his name soon after you end the call. A few tears well up in your eyes as your mom comes into your room, sitting next to you on the bed and throwing a comforting arm around your shoulders.

“I heard the end of that conversation when I was walking by your door,” she comments somberly, rubbing your shoulder, “Are you okay?”

Wiping away a few tears, you shake your head no.

You aren’t okay right now. But you will be.

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@lostnliterature @lovely-parker @johnmulaneyslut @irxnspxder

Glancing at your phone, you pushed open the door to the library. Your first instinct was to search the room for Peter— but you stopped yourself. You used to know that your place was the spot next to him, but now, you were searching the room for an empty seat. The large space was filled to the brim with students studying, watching netflix, or attempting to complete an assignment last-minute. Casting your gaze to the floor, you plopped down at the nearest vacant table, pulling out your laptop to continue writing your history essay.

After a few minutes of staring at the halfway-completed document, you sighed in frustration, running a hand through your tousled hair. Normally, you were a quick writer, the words flowing from your fingertips with ease; but now, you couldn’t seem to form a coherent sentence.

As much as you hated to admit it, the source of your distraction was Peter. The argument that the two of you had three nights prior was the only thing you could focus on, and it was beginning to affect both your work and school life. Resting your chin on the palm of your hand, you allowed yourself to think back to what had transpired.

“Lately, I don’t even know what page you’re on!” you yelled, throwing up your hands in frustration, “What’s happened to you? It’s like you aren’t even Peter anymore.”

Recently, you’d felt like the two of you had been acting like you were more than just friends. But, clearly, you were wrong. Peter had been more distant than usual; he was staying out into the late hours of the night, ignoring texts and calls, and showing up to school with the darkest under eye bags you’d ever seen.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Peter retorted, desperation and panic seeping into his tone, “I’m still the same Peter you’ve always known. Nothing has changed!”

“You know that’s a lie,” you growled, pointing an accusing finger at him, “I can tell when you’re lying. Just tell me what’s going on!”

He clenched his jaw, averting his gaze from your fiery eyes.

“Is…” your voice dropped to a soft tone, emotion causing it to shake slightly, “Is it because of me?”

“What do you mean?” he replied, still not looking at you.

“Don’t pretend like you haven’t noticed it,” your voice had a bitter undertone to it; after all, you couldn’t believe he was denying what had been happening between the two of you, “You and I… I see us as being more than friends. Do you not feel the same way? Is that why you’ve been distant?”

Peter’s eyes blew wide open in shock, but it was only a moment before his face turned stone cold and the answer that you’d been dreading flew past his lips with ease.

“Yeah, it is.”

Although both of you knew that miscommunication leads to fallouts, neither party wanted to talk about what was happening. There were so many things that you wished he knew, but you just couldn’t break through the multiple walls you’d both erected between each other. They stood tall and proud, guarding your already fragile heart from being dealt the final blow that would inevitably shatter it into a million, glittering pieces.

Letting out a groan, you slammed your laptop shut, sliding it into your bag and storming out of the library. Clearly, you weren’t going to get any work done. 

Maybe I should just take the day off… you thought to yourself as you walked down the sidewalk, I can just finish my essay tomorrow. 

— -

How did you and Peter end up this way?

It was three weeks later, and you were standing in the middle of a party, nervously pulling at your sweatshirt and trying to look busy. Glancing around the room, your gaze met Peter’s. His eyes widened for a moment before he spun on his heel, leaving the room without so much as a peep.

That was the first time you’d seen him since the argument. You swallowed the lump in your throat and pretended like Peter wasn’t purposefully avoiding you as you turned the other day, trying to spot a familiar face amongst the crowd.

Once upon a time, you thought you’d tell the story of you and Peter. You’d explain how you almost lost you mind when you saw him for the first time; how he walked you home that night to make sure you’d make it back safe and sound.

But now, he held his pride like he should’ve held you.

God, you were scared to see the ending of this story. Why were you both pretending like this was nothing? It was almost too much for your body and mind to handle, and judging by the dark circles you’d spotted under Peter’s eyes, he wasn’t faring much better.

Words couldn’t describe just how badly you wanted to run into is arms, telling him just how much you missed him. But you had no idea how to.

Pulling out your phone, you drafted a text message, only to delete it a few seconds later. The last messages between you were from two weeks ago, and the last time you talked in person had been almost three.

Yet still, you’d check your phone every hour, hoping to see a notification from him.

Huffing, slipped your phone into your pocket and ran a hand through your hair, frustration and confusion flooding your system. Sure, you’d had arguments with Peter before, but you’d never heard silence quite this loud. And now, you were standing alone in a crowded room, and Peter was nowhere to be seen. Inside, you were dying to know if it was killing him like it was killing you, but you didn’t know what to say or ask to get past this roadblock. 

This terrible twist of fate had shattered everything, and the story of you and Peter looked a lot more like a tragedy now.

Ripping your phone back out of your pocket, your fingers slammed into the keyboard over and over again until finally you hit send, not giving yourself enough time to think twice about what you’d said.

You: hey. can we talk?

The frustration of feeling like this was a contest of who could act like they cared less had motivated you to finally reach out; after all, you liked it better when you were on each others’ sides. Your walls were still up, but… you’d lay down your armor if Peter said he’d rather love than fight.

The battle was in his hands now, so there was no point in letting this ruin the rest of your night. Sighing, you turned your screen off once more, sliding your phone into your pocket and turning to the friend who’d walked up next to you.

— -

Peter’s heart was beating a million times a minute as he stared at his phone screen, reading the text message on his screen over and over again. All he had to do was say yes or no, but for some reason, he couldn’t find it in himself to reply.

It was a simple message, so why was this so hard? Was he scared of the conversation to follow? The chance of having his heart broken? Or was he, deep down, trying to pretend like nothing was wrong?

There were thousands of thoughts racing across Peter’s mind as he continued to stare at the screen, wishing there was a way to express what he was feeling. He had so many things to tell you, but he didn’t know how.

“Everything okay, dude?” Ned put a hand on Peter’s shoulder, throwing him a concerned glance, “You seem a little out of it.”

“Y-Yeah,” Peter locked his phone without replying, sliding it into his pocket so he didn’t have to reply, “I’m good.”

It looked like the story of you and Peter might be ending soon.

taglist;

@minnie-marvel @magic-marvel @quxntumvandyne @imnotbitter-anna @cynicallystiles @laurfangirl424 @misslunala @secondsineternity @galaxy-parker @peterpcrker @signed-potato @lokiislowkeyhot @highlady-ofthe-summercourt @veryspectacularspiderling @delicately-written @thefallenbibliophilequote @jupiterparker @buck-ets @newtimewriter @thedaughterofdawn @lltrashll @paradoxparker @propertyofmarvel @sagebrandy-loves-pancakes @flaminghottaquito @marvel-galaxy @laureharrier @futzingclint @lokiismischief @whycantwebefriendz @hedwigthelegend @yellowkenyon97 @casuallytumblingdownthestairs  @yelyahryan @em-aesthe @ @smexylemony @watermelonfruitsalad @thewildheroine @s0cial-retard @awkwardfangirl2014 @nobelwarriorheroes @holland-haven @moonpadillaa @lesbianismybitchname @kingccbsblog @death-by-viola @marvellousparkerpeter @softrdj @marvel-carol-danvers @parrkerspeters

peter parker taglist;

@lostnliterature  @johnmulaneyslut @irxnspxder @lovinnholland @peterparker-glee-other @whorecruxs @peterswetsocks @talk-geek-to-me @house-arya @hayadora @awokenfandoms @tulipwj