#spiderman ff

His kisses send shivers down your spine and his ragged breathing against your neck gives you goosebumps. In fact, you could lie here all day long and just enjoy each and every single one of his tender touches, be it with his hands or his lips.

Unfortunately, you are not allowed to enjoy this moment much longer because Peter suddenly jumps up in surprise, his spider senses apparently striking, leaving you baffled.

"Oh shit."

You can't read the look on his face to get an idea of what's happening, but you don't have to because you can clearly hear the door to the apartment unlocking and opening in the next moment, his aunt coming in.

"Peter? I'm back!"

You look at each other in silence for a few seconds, your eyes wide, holding your breath. Then, all of a sudden, you free yourself from each other's grip, Peter almost tumbling off the bed in an attempt to stand up as silently as possible.

"What is your aunt doing here?! You said she wouldn't be back until this evening!", you hiss at him under your breath, getting up from his bed while pulling down your shirt, which has ridden up due to your rough make-out session.

"She shouldn't be back already!", Peter whisper-yells back, looking around his room, desperately searching for help. There really aren't many places for you to hide here. His closet is full of piles of clothes and his room is over all pretty cluttered. Not that it usually bothers you, but it is pretty inconvenient right now.

Because his aunt doesn't know about the two of you and you don't intend on her to find out. Especially not like this.

Once she knows, your father will know, and that is going to be a problem.

"Peter? Are you here?", May calls out through the apartment and when you hear footsteps approaching, Peter gently grabs your arms and frantically helps you hide under his bed. May opens the door just as Peter quickly drapes the blanket over the edge of the bed so that you are hidden. Quickly, you hold your breath and hope she can't hear your fast beating heart.

"M-May. What... Uhm, what are you doing here? Already?", Peter chuckles nervously, trying to act as innocent as possible while trying to cover his bare upper body with his arms. May's eyes narrow as she looks at him suspiciously. Her eyes wander around the room, sensing that something is off.

"Why are you not wearing a shirt?", she asks him, her brows furrowed. Peter opens his mouth, but because he has no idea what to say to explain himself, he closes it again. Then he opens it once more, but again can't think of a good excuse.

"You know what? I don't even want to know", she shakes her head, waving a towel around that she must have picked up from the kitchen on her way to his room. "Make sure you put something on though. Something presentable, preferably."

"S-Sure. Why, exactly?", Peter asks with uncertainty in his voice, shuffling to the right to pick up his shirt which was carelessly thrown onto the floor. While doing so, he makes sure that he's still right in front of the bed where you are trying to be as silent as possible. In one quick, smooth movement, Peter pulls his shirt over his head, hiding the obvious clues of what was happening in this room mere seconds ago.

"I invited the Starks for dinner."

"What?", you mumble under your breath at the same time as Peter says it out loud.

"Not quite the reaction I expected, to be honest", May chuckles, pulling a claw clip out of her hair so that her long brown hair falls over her shoulders. "You enjoyed your internship at Stark Industries with Mr. Stark so much and I thought I would be doing you a favour. His wife and daughter will be here, too. And that cute chief of security, Happy was his name?"

"Eww, May!", Peter turns away from her with disgust, shuddering at the thought that his aunt has a thing for Happy out of all people. Nevertheless, his gaze shortly wanders to the framed certificate on the wall that testifies his successful work with the Stark Industries Internship Program. Thank God Aunt May doesn't know that he actually flew to Germany and was involved in a conflict between the Avengers during this so-called 'internship'.

Even though you can't see his aunt from your - extremely uncomfortable - position under the bed, you can literally hear her roll her eyes.

"Do me a favour", she then proceeds, combing her fingers through her hair. "Be sweet to Y/N. She kinda has a crush on you."

Your whole face flushes at once and you almost start coughing, choking on air you inhaled too abruptly, but instead you cover your mouth with your hand.

"Really?", Peter asks with such feigned disbelief that it's extremely suspicious. His voice perfectly captures the satisfaction he's feeling right now and you just know that he currently has that smug smile on his face that you ever so often would like to wipe off.

"I had no idea", he adds to your misery, chuckling a bit under his breath.

"Of course you didn't. Boys never do", May announces with a laugh, teasing her nephew before finally leaving the room and closing the door shut behind her. Her footsteps move away and once he's sure the situation is safe, Peter immediately bursts into a fit of laughter.

"Shut up!", you say angrily and punch the bed from underneath to make him stop laughing. You sigh in defeat when he doesn't. You'd love nothing more than to stay under his mattress forever and never look at him again because everything about this situation is incredibly awkward and makes you want to disappear into thin air.

Peter's laughing face appears in front of you as he kneels down and pushes aside the blanket. The moment he sees you, an emotion darts across his face that you can't quite place, but it certainly has something to do with the intense blush on your cheeks.

"Didn't know you had a crush on me", he mocks you with a wink, trying his best to contain his laughter, and reaches for your hands to help you out.

"Didn't know you were such an idiot", you counter and can't help but let out a soft giggle from the cramped space underneath the bed before you let him free you.

As soon as you're standing upright again, you playfully punch him in the chest and adjust your top, which has slipped from all the action. It only takes him three seconds to pull you towards him by the wrist and kiss you hard, your face in his hands. You sink into him.

"No, but seriously, when did you develop this crush on me? I'd love to know", he murmurs against your lips with a smile, which only earns him a groan from your side. "If Aunt May knew what we did before-"

"I suppose we don't want neither her nor my parents to find out about us like this, so I suggest I get going", you interrupt him, placing your hands on his firm chest to push him away from you. Which is pretty hard since he doesn't want to let go of you just yet.

"I'm sure you'll look stunning at dinner", Peter smirks, his hands riding up your hips to lift up your shirt again. Immediately, you swat his hands away and turn to the window.

"Behave yourself", you roll your eyes with a smile, knowing full well he adores you in any piece of clothing. Or none.

Peter helps you open up the window, the soundscape of New York immediately entering the room. He steadies you while helping you out the window and then wraps his hands tightly around your waist before using one of his webs to gently lower the both of you into the alley outside his window.

Something you're very practiced in with the amount of times you had to sneak out of his room in the middle of the night.

"See you later, Spidey", you say and move to kiss his cheek, but he immediately goes for the full kiss, seemingly not getting enough of you. "And don't embarrass me again."

"I wouldn't think of it!", he answers in shock, as if it isn't something he absolutely loves to do, just to see your adorable reaction to it. You shake your head, smiling and waving as you walk to the main street.

"We still need to finish this!", Peter calls after you and sends another wave of heat to your head, your heart beating faster.

What leads to love? 

Falling in love comes easy. Very, very easily. No one really complains about the process of falling in love, though it’s different each time, there is a certain agreement that falling in love is overall a  happy process. 

Or rather than happy, it’s… simple. 

Falling in love sometimes is magical. Sometimes it’s avoided. Sometimes it can be a storm. 

But undeniably, it’s easy. 

It’s like wine. Bitter, with some sweet notes. 

Some people say the older it is, better. Love might turn better with time, into a more mature routine and more developed plans. 

The young folks usually prefer a sweeter wine. It’s about… taste, really. 

The real connoisseaurs might find disgrace in the cheap wine that people use to get drunk. Like one of those one night stands that might give you a headache the very next day. It’s the same, really. 

Love can be described in many different ways. Currently, you decided wine was the very best explanation for it. Or at least how you were drowning it. Wine worked. 

The circumstances surrounding might not be as pleasant, however, you can easily fall in love. 

You can fall in love with a gentle laugh, a stupid comment and a genuine stare. Falling in love can come from an inside joke, a shared story or a listened to song. 

Falling in love can come as a mistake. And making mistakes, well… 

It’s easy. It just… comes in so easily and you can’t help it. Though it’s very complicated to describe. 

Sometimes you can use colors. Other times you can use flowers. Or wine. 

With him, though, how will you ever be able to describe what it felt like? 

Was it strategized? Probably. From giving him certain type of smiles or making him like you for the dresses you wore. Pretending to love his favorite films or favorite songs. Learning the different conversations to be achieved through dinner with his friends. 

But it was… inevitable. And you wouldn’t change it. 

Per sempre, tutta la vita. 

That’s what he used to say, he’d heard that phrase once, he never remembered from where, and his pronunciation had probably changed along the way and it was a mere memory of it now. But he had decided to use it all the time. It was for you. 

‘Forever, all my life’. 

With the promise that he’d love you forevermore. All his life. As long as you were aware of it, he was, undoubtedly, still alive. 

How easy had it been to fall for that single phrase. Per sempre, tutta la vita. 

Falling out of love, on the other hand, isn’t easy. And that’s something universally agreed upon. 

It should’ve been as easy as losing that neck chain. Or forgetting the dialogue of a movie you haven’t watched in a while. It should be easy. 

Yet it’s not. 

Falling out of love is a forced activity when you’re broken up with. And that’s not easy. A breakup is never never easy. At least not if you’re the one being dumped. It’s like that one bitter cheap wine that you bought in a supermarket and made you sick and gave you a heartache. Falling out of love included the five stages of grief. And wine. 

Refusing to fall out of love had probably led you to where you were by now. A plane. 

Where you had a glass of wine in your hand and you were gripping to your hopes with the other one. 

The conversation was playing over, and over, and over. Like a humorless joke that you can’t help but tell again and again. 

“Really? Just like that?” You had asked, as you walked around the kitchen counter. Pouring a glass of wine as you continued cooking dinner for both of you, ignoring his suitcases by the door. “Just… years and years thrown out the window. All our plans--” 

The music was still playing the background, the music you decided to play so you could dance while cooking, what you usually did, different plans tonight.

“Y/N, Y/N, I— it’s not. It’s not like that,” Miles followed you with his dark gaze, watching your pathetic excuse for dinner. “This is as hard for me as it is for you. Look, It’s not you, it’s—“

You could not believe it. “Please, do not dare to say that,” You begged, closing your eyes as you stopped stirring the sauce. “Don’t dare saying it, don’t say it’s not you, it's me. That’s what people say when it really is the other person.” 

After years of your relationship, he was throwing it away. Just like that, by saying: ‘We need to break up’, which undoutebdly is one of the cheapest ways of breaking up with someone. 

It’s useful, though. If it ain’t broke…

“Well, it is me, not you,” he cleared out and poured a wine for himself, thought he was breaking up with you and he’d already packed, this seemed calm enough. 

You looked up. “Have you met someone else?” Your gaze was trying to decipher his. 

“No,” he took a deep breath. He wasn’t lying.  “That’s why I’m telling you this. It’s not about… us, it’s not that the love is gone or… I…” He took a deep breath. “I want to travel, I want to follow my dreams and being here with you just… stops me from it, being tied—“

“Tied? You feel like that? Trapped? Is that it?” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, though. “Is this a prison? Have I not—“

“No, no, I didn’t,” he squeezed his eyes shut. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant, you… You have your life here, alright? And I don’t know if this is who I want to be. I want to travel…” 

“We could travel, then,” you said quickly, as you felt your chest ache. Yet, you were still calm. You took a sip of the red wine, bitter. “Yes, yes, yes, let’s travel together. We can plan a trip. We can go places, yes, yes, we can do that. Let’s… You wanted to go to San Francisco, right? Let’s go, let’s travel to San Francisco this weekend, let’s plan it.” 

“You… don’t,” he took a deep breath. “That’s the thing, y/n, I don’t want to plan, I don’t want to go… To San Francisco.” 

“Where then?” You were desperate now. You knew your voice was cracking because you knew what was going on. 

He was tired, you could tell. “I just want to travel, be free, no planning. I just—I want to go travel to without planning.” 

“How are you supposed to travel without planning?” You frowned. “However can you travel, you need money, and… and… the plane… and a hotel, or some kind of place to stay and the transportation and—“

“I’m leaving to Italy, without planning anything.” 

“Italy is literally the other side of the world—There has to be some planning, and there must have been some considering your stuff is already packed.” 

“I—” He took a deep breath. 

“Had I known you wanted to break up with me I would’ve planned—“

“This is my thing, y/n, you don’t have to plan everything,” his hands were firm against the table now, he was conflicted. “and you’re always doing it, you plan and then you never go through with it. You just… Plan and order and it’s all—It’s everything, you always have to be under control and there’s no spontaneity—You are scared of everything. You’re even scared of your own dreams.” 

“See? So it is me, it’s not the whole it’s not you, it’s me… It is not you, Miles, is it? It is me.” 

He took a deep breath. “Maybe, yeah,” he ran a hand through his face.

You gave him a bitter smile. “Yeah.” 

 “No, no, I—It’s not you. It’s the person I am today, I need—I need some spontaneity in my life. And you are perfect the way you are—I’m just… I don’t think we are the people who we fell in love with, we have changed.” 

“But… I love the person you are today,” you knew he had cracked you, finally.  “You don’t love me, then?” 

“Oh no, that I do, I do, I love you, I need—Some time, but this is about me wanting to go and be free for myself, but I love you, and I always will. Per sempre, tutta la vita.” 

You felt your heart breaking. “If you love me then, why are you leaving me?” The world was spinning. 

“It’s not about lack of love,” he explained. “I think we have enough love to give,” Miles took in a deep breath. 

He meant it, because falling in love is easy. And falling out of love can’t be as easy. 

There was love there. You knew it. He loved you; and you loved him and this would be another silly argument that comes with time, when the devils get into your thoughts. You knew you’d eventually end up with your arms wrapped around him, dancing under the moonlight, kissing him better. 

“Would you go to Italy with me?” He questioned. As if some sense had gotten to him.  “Right now? Let’s go, I need—“

“I can’t leave just like that, I have a job, I have things to take care of—I would need to plan—“

“I’ve never asked you anything, y/n,” he said. “It’s the one thing I’m asking from you. Let’s go.” 

Italy had always been a dream of his, and yours too; you’d both been saving for it, for a while now. The time would never seem to come because one thing happened or life decided to slip in and before you knew it, you were spending the holidays again watching Home Alone for who knows what time. 

You knew you both wanted this. He was an architect, you were a writer. You were supposed to go there. Learn, travel. Be a romantic and visit Verona, find Romeo or Juliet. 

Yet you never did, although you wanted to. 

“I—I don’t know Miles,” you said. “I’m—scared, alright? Yes I’m scared to—“

He watched you like he had won the race, as if he was dying to tell you he’d told you so. He only cynically chuckled to himself as his eyes couldn’t look at you. 

“Scared to follow your dream?” He questioned. “You’ve always wanted to go there, you always write about having adventures yet you never have one, y/n. Who are you? What happened to you? To us? Why are we even pretending this is working? It’s not. And—“

“It is—“

“No, we don’t work anymore.,it’s always—This conversation, y/n.” 

“I—Can we talk about this, please? You’re so suddenly breaking up with me,” you snapped for the first time. “Miles you can’t—do that.” 

He sighed. “You act like this is sudden.” 

“Well it is,” you frowned. “Something must have happened, you just—packed and you’re leaving and—please let’s—“

“We’ve been having this conversation over and over, y/n.”

You knew he was right, yes lately you had been having arguments but you didn’t think they would lead to… breaking up. It was sudden. Yes, there were arguments but not “packing bags and leaving to another country” arguments. 

“But—we can solve this, right?” You asked. 

“I can’t keep on trying to push you to follow your reams. I need to follow my own, and if you don’t have the courage to follow yours, then—You need someone else, y/n, not me.” 

He was done, and he didn’t have to say it. And it felt like your whole life shattered. Had you not known better you would have thought that every crashing sound was your house glass, or the wine bottle or anything else.  But you knew it was your heart, which he had held for so many years but dropped so easily. 

“I need someone who can just pack their stuff and leave.” Miles gave you a sympathetic sad state, long enough to see the tears bulking in. “I can’t do it, y/n.” 

He left when he saw you had no more left to say, because he had a plane to catch. And the music was still playing in the background and you were left with a pasta for two and an opened bottle of wine. 

He needed more, then. How? How could he need more, you only needed his laugh echoing through the apartment. You didn’t need anything more. 

You needed him. 

And maybe it was the bottle of wine or the playlist that played in the background, very poorly and drunkenly chosen after hearing he’d be leaving for Italy. Maybe. 

Maybe it was the fact that falling in love is so easy. But maybe it was Maybe it was the fact that this was so sudden. He had given you no signs. 

5 years of your life all thrown out the window in one night. 

Maybe it was the fact that he was right. Maybe it was that. Maybe it was because you realized how lonely the apartment looked. 

Maybe it was the fact you realized he’d probably spent the whole day packing but he’d left a lot still. Like all those pictures around the house. 

Maybe it was the fact that for the first time in two years you’d be sleeping alone. Or the fact that you realized that your bed was too big, too stupidly big. And cold. 

Maybe it had been the fact you’d finished the whole bottle of wine. Or the fact that you were going through the five stages of grief in just a few hours. 

Denial, first. You had spent 10 minutes waiting for him to show back up. You knew he couldn’t be serious. 

Anger, second. Screaming, trying to hide away every single picture. You decided to get rid off the plants he’s chosen for the apartment, very decently, moving them outside your apartment. ‘Get out, our relationship died and so will you! Remember how we said we would love you forever? And take care of you This is just a lie because one day you’re flourishing and the other day? Guess what little plant! You get kicked out of someone’s life! Because you’re not what I want! No. You’re just a stupid plant who can’t travel because you’re stuck. Or maybe you’re not and I’m kicking you out before you decide you can leave me too’ 

Dancing to Lizzo’s Good as Hell. Then Cher’s Believe. Then, Taylor Swift. 

Bargaining, third. You’d texted him. ‘Please. Let’s talk.’ ‘Can we go get breakfast and think about this?’ 

You didn’t know why Taylor made you realize how cruel you’d been to the plants. You’d gone out to get them back.‘I’m so sorry I said all that. I love you. I’m sorry, welcome back.’

Then you realized, it couldn’t be that bad. Maybe this was your chance to meet someone new? Or perhaps, 

Depression, fourth. It had started with the tear streaming down your face as you listened to Italian covers of breakup song.

First ‘without you’ by Mariah Carey was playing in the background. Not that version, though. It was in Italian. Somehow you had found the one playlist with breakup songs all sung in Italian. Nowadays there’s a playlist for anything. 

Why? Because your life had lost its sense in the—you looked down at the time, your life had lost its sense 6 hours ago. 

“Can’t live, if living is without you,” you pathetically sang along the lyrics in another language. “Can't live anymore,” you sobbed now.

5 years. This wasn’t supposed to end like this. 

Maybe it was all of that combined. 

Then there was no music, just the sound of your tears as you hugged the pillow that he used every night. With little to no hope. 

With pictures of him stabbing you into old reminders. 

Probably. Yes, it may have been every single thing that led you to the morning. 

That led you to your screen blinding you just enough, and that may have been what led you to drunkenly search for flights early in the morning. 

That may have led you to book a flight, pack in less than an hour and get showered as you went to the airport because your flight would be leaving in less than six hours. 

That’s what led you to it. 

Yes, that’s what led you to your current situation. A plane that would lead you to another plane to get to Verona. 

Quietly sitting on a plane. Hugging yourself. Pathetic. 

With time to think. Because you knew what Miles’ plan was, you’d practically made it. Arrive at Verona, then a road trip along the country, searching for adventures, inspiration and everything that could be put in your way. Sure, Miles didn’t like planning but without you he’d never get anywhere. Your plans completed him. 

You’d called an old friend from college, a roommate you’d had and who had always encouraged you to visit her. Serafina, who was absolutely delighted that you and Miles would finally visit. You’d decided to keep out the part that he’d broken up with you and that you’d gone on a psychotic trance and followed after him to another country in hopes of finding him and getting back together with him. 

Minor details. 

Because, it all led back to him, to Miles. Didn’t it? This was to prove him that you were what he wanted. Yes, you could travel. He was that push you needed. He loved you, you loved him. You were willing to change for him. 

That’s what mattered. Didn’t it? 

Besides Italy was leading you to a whole new possibility. An opportunity for you to understand what you would be able to do for love. You’d been broken up with 24 hours ago. Or More? Less? 

You hadn’t slept and your heart was still aching. This had to lead to him. To Miles. And you knew fate would be on your side, you’d probably see him in a few hours. Destiny would lead you to him. Because your body was still his. It was impossible to erase him. 48 hours ago you still here by his side. You were sure you could still smell his lotion on your clothes. 

You knew you’d never love someone again. Your heart could only belong to him. 

You were excited, excited and tired. So, tired. You were barely looking at anything, you were entranced by your hopes, the heartbreak and the fact your eyes had been crying for 24 hours straight without resting anything. But you wanted this to be the best decision you’d ever made. 

You tried looking for Serafina who had promised to pick you up, you walked through the crowds and accidentally bumped into someone, making him drop the three cups of coffee he was holding. 

“Bloody hell, fuck,” he murmured, angrily as he was trying to get his white t-shirt off contact with his skin. The paper he was holding had been ruined as well. “Guarda dove stai andando!” 

“I’m so, so sorry,” You quickly said. “Sorry! Uh, Mi scuso?” You said. He had sunglasses on, which gave away who he was. Having sunglasses inside a room could only mean he was a certain type. 

He was annoyed. He took a deep breath as he pulled up his glasses. “Watch where you’re going.”

“I… will.” Yes, it had proved it. He was an asshole. 

“Fucking tourists,” he muttered. Though, he was clearly not a native italian either. His accent betrayed him, and his looks.

“I’ll buy you another coffee,” you said. “I’m so sorry for your shirt.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t bother,” he hissed as he walked past you, pushing you just slightly, enough to bother you. 

You were tired and not in the mood. “It wasn’t on purpose, asshole.” 

He only turned around to give you a smirk and kept walking. Smugly. Like he owned the place. Maybe it was your lack of sleep or your broken heart but there was an urge building upon you to go hit him. 

You got a call, saving him from your…violence. 

“Fina!” You finally answered, hoping you’d see your friend soon enough. “Oh my God, hello my love! Are you here?” 

“Bellissima, y/n, have you arrived?” She asked. “Perdonami amore mio, something came up and I sent my roommate for you and Miles!” 

“Oh, er… Yes, I’m here, I… uh, you sent your roommate?” You asked. “What’s her name?” 

“Oh, his name is Tom! He’s adorable, you’re going to love him!” 

“Oh great!” 

“Yes, and he could distract Miles while you and I go out and catch up, amore mio!” She insisted on Miles. She’d always said you both would end up married

You still believed that. 

“Oh… yeah.” 

“How are you dressed, amore?” She questioned. 

Very.. chic. Pants and a hoodie that would disguise your break-up. “Uh, like everyone else.” 

“And Miles?” She asked. 

“Uh… How is your roommate dressed? How will I know it’s him?” You decided to change the subject. 

“He made a sign! I’ll tell him to meet you outside, his car is yellow!” She said. 

“Alright! I’ll search for him” You said. 

“Si si! Can’t wait to see you and Miles, ciao ciao! Baci!” She hung up. 

You waited a bit, trying to know how you would excuse yourself. How in this world would you explain that ‘Miles & y/n’ were no longer ‘Miles & y/n’. How would you explain that you were there looking for your now ex in hopes of getting back together. How the hell would you explain that it had led you to call your boss saying it was a family emergency. How on earth would you tell her that your life had completely been destroyed in less than 48 hours? 

Fina had the suspicion that you were engaged. 

You decided to face your fears and walk outside, looking for that one yellow car. And you did see him. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you said as you walked over to the guy with three new brand coffees. You saw his sign now, previously ruined. ‘Miles & Y/N’Now distorted and stirred, dripping. 

The asshole. With his stupid sunglasses on, but his shirt ruined. 

You made your way over. He only glared as he hung up the phone. Your last 24 hours were better considering that you now had to face him. 

“Are you here to knock my coffee off again?” He asked. 

“Are you Tom?” You asked, as annoyed.

He frowned, arrogantly annoyed, pulling his sunglasses up. “Who’s asking?” 

“I’m y/n.” 

And you couldn’t believe this had led to him.

next chapter

wanna be tagged?

“Thank you so much for the signature, Y/n! I’m such a big fan! I love you!!” A girl said cheerfully, as you gave her your signature on her Endgame poster. She then moved on to Tom who sat right next to you with the same cheerful attitude. 

You were about an hour into the 2-hour fan meet and greet, organized by the heads of Marvel. You and about a dozen other actors from the MCU were attending, meaning to greet fans and sign their merchandise. 

You and Tom had been messing around the entire meet and greet like you always did, undoubtedly creating several gif-able moments. Being very young, Tom had admitted to you several times that he saw you as a little sister. You too saw him as a brother, but liked teasing him and saying he was more like a grandma. You were like two peas in a pod, really.

Although it could be quite exhausting and was currently the number one cause for your finger cramps, you loved meeting the fans and they were always so sweet. Most of them anyway. 

“Hi,” a guy breathed. You smiled at him. He seemed nervous. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, sporting a ‘Squirrel Girl’ t-shirt. You smiled, realizing he was a fan of your character.

“Hi! Squirrel Girl fan, huh?” you pointed to his shirt. He chuckled dryly and nodded. 

It was like he stopped working. Just stood there. There was an awkward moment of silence, as you waited for him to pull out his poster or CD, and he just stared at you. 

“Oh- Uh-” he realized what was happening, breaking out of his trance. He pulled out his poster and avoided your gaze. “I’m sorry, girls as pretty as you just make me nervous.” 

You looked at him in shock for a moment, then forced a laugh and signed his poster quietly. He probably didn’t mean it in a creepy way. 

“You know, I-I read all of your Wikipedia pages and stuff. We have a lot in common, you and I,” he said. You flushed in embarrassment. He was definitely being weird.

He put his hand on yours, making you flinch. You looked down at him and he stared back at you, not taking his hand away. He licked his lips and it caused what was possibly the most uncomfortable feeling you’d ever felt.

At this point, you grab Tom’s hand under the table. As you reached for his, you realized you were shaking. Your entire stomach burned and pricked with anxiety. 

Tom diverted his gaze from the girl he was speaking to, eyes setting on you. It was impossible to miss you discomfort. You were tense like a disgruntled cat. Then his eyes moved to the man in front of you, sweaty hand on yours. His brows furrowed.

“Are you doing anything after this? We could go to my place if you want? You’ve mentioned that you like the show Breaking Bad? We could watch that if you want?” 

The man’s words set off an immediate alarm in Tom’s head. You were usually a very easy-going person, he’d never seen you in such a stressed state. He saw you trying to move your hand away from his and how the creepy man held on. 

Tom’s instant reaction was just to grab his hand and take it off you. As soon as the man’s skin was detached from yours, you visibly relaxed. Your hands was shaking, as you retracted it. 

The man was furious. Eyes wide, nostrils flaring and face red. But Tom was angry too. 

“What do you think you’re doing? You’re making her uncomfortable,” Tom said, doing his best to not just yell at him. The man didn’t seem to be holding back at all though. 

“Back off, dude! You don’t know anything!” The man yelled hysterically, causing several actors’ eyes to turn to the three of you. You caught Scarlett Johansson’s eyes and shrugged, signaling the very obvious and comprehensible message: listen-man-i-don’t-have-any-fucking-idea-what’s-going-on.

“Get the fuck out of here! You fucking creep. Security!” Tom yelled, waving at the security. The man’s eyes watered, and he bit back his words, turning to you. 

“Y/n.. Y/n, please, I love you. Tell them you love me too! Tell them!” he spat, face red. All you could do was shake your head vigorously, as the buff security guards grabbed him by his arms and started dragging him away. “Y/n! Y/n! My love!”

Everyone was silent for a moment, both the actors, the people in the queue, and the staff around and behind the stage. 

“Holy shit,” you said, and everyone stirred again, returning to the meet and greet. 

“What the hell was that about?” Anthony yelled from the other side of the table you all sat at. People erupted into small giggles at his usual sassiness. 

“I don’t know! I don’t,” you said. 

You felt a hand on your shoulder, which given your current shock, made you jump, but when you quickly realized it was just Tom.

“Are you okay?” he asked, a concerned expression on his features. You smiled softly and nodded. 

“That guy was a total creep.”

“Yeah.” Tom seemed more angry than you. You just felt weird about it. I mean, that man was so much older than you? 

“But like, really, do you wanna talk about it?” Tom asked quietly, searching your eyes. You smiled softly. 

“Maybe later,” you said and went back to signing. Tom did too, reluctantly.

You and Tom talked it through later in your hotel room. He listened to all of your worries and all of your thoughts and feelings, and he assured you that he would always be there to scare the creeps away. 

Then, when he starting to leave, you asked him if he could stay the night. That day’s encounter had stirred and anxiety within you. You didn’t want to be alone.

Tom had smiled at you and said “of course”. Then you’d both watched meaningless television until you fell asleep, as secure as you’d ever been, without a worry in your head that someone would get you, because Tom would never let anyone touch his little sister/grandchild. 

___________________________

Tag List:

“Yes?” 

“HotSpot news, we were wondering, who will take over your father’s place?” 

“No one can ever replace my father—“

“Will you be held accountable for anything that happens with Stark industries?” 

“Anything?”y/n blinked and turned to another journalist. “I—next question-“

“Daily Bugle. Do you think Spiderman will be the new leader of the Avengers? Will you be an avenger? Will you lead the avengers?”

“The Avengers was a group of their own—Spiderman is—part of them and I am not an avenger.” 

“What about your suit?” another journalist yelled, approaching the microphone as everyone else’s bustle was hidden through the crowd. “You have an armor don’t you?”

“I do—but—I am not a hero—“ y/n answered. 

“Why?””Are you someone we can trust, miss Stark?” “Would you respond if they were to attack us again?” “If more aliens come who are we gonna call?” “What about all the blipped people?" "How are you going to handle a company which you don’t know anything of?” “Are the blipped people getting their jobs back?”  “Are there any avengers left?” “Is Pepper Potts the owner of the company now?” “Where’s Steve Rogers?”  “Who will save us?””Are you going to take charge of—“

Y/n stopped listening. She was a teenager. A teenager who didn’t deserve to deal with all of this. She didn’t know any answer to any questions they were bombarding at her. She felt how suddenly everything was turning white as if she was about to collapse. Her breathing was getting heavier and quicker and her skin was turning cold. She was sick, she was sure of it. She needed to run away and she was sure that someone had poisoned her. 

She walked out of the stage, and as she was doing it she pressed the arc reactor on her chest as it started to quickly cover her, whatever had happened to her she knew Friday would quickly give her a diagnosis. The armour would help to protect her.

“Miss Stark? Why are you wearing the armour?” “Miss Stark?” “Y/N” the journalists kept pushing her. “Miss don’t leave!”

“Friday protocol leave me alone, send them out ” she ordered. 

“Copy.” Suddenly the press room was shut down and a fire alarm started to go off, the room was filled with screams and people running out of it. 

Y/N Stark was still shaking. 

“Friday what’s going on? Give—give me a diagnosis? Is it the heart?” 

“No cardiac anomaly, Miss.” 

“What is going on—I?” 

“Y/n?” A gentle voice was heard as a figure approached her. She felt his hand on her back.

“Friday what’s wrong with me?”

“Miss, my diagnosis is you’re having a severe anxiety attack.” 

"Anxiety--anxiety?" Y/n blinked. Happy kneeled beside her. She was on the floor, y/n didn’t even know how she had gotten on the floor.

“I’m—Happy—I—“ she couldn’t talk. “Friday fly me out, now, take me—take me out.” 

She pushed Happy away as she flew out of the room and up to the roof. She quickly got out of her armour. She breathed in and out, in and out. 

“Friday—call my father—call Peter—no, no, I can’t call anyone,” she said to herself. “I’m alone, I’m—I’m alone.” 

“Want me to call Pepper?” Offered the AI. 

She took a deep breath. 

“Call Peter Parker.” 

“Copy.” 

It rang a few times. He didn’t answer. 

“Insist.” She said and sat on the floor. 

“Hey.” 

His voice was—dry. 

“Are you—busy?” 

He didn’t answer right away. “I’m doing a group project, Ned and MJ.” 

She gulped. “I’m sorry—I’ll call later.”

“No, no—uh,” he cleared his throat. “Is everything okay? Do you need anything?” 

She thought about it, him, she needed him. But now he had to move on, she had to move on. 

She didn’t answer. 

“Y/N? Are you okay?” He asked. “Want me to come over?”

“I—“

“I’ll be there, where are you?”

She cleared her throat. “No, no sorry, just to remind you to pick up your passport and everything. I—uh, they—they changed something in the schedules, your school—uh, took care of that, they made a deal with a tour group um—“

“Were you really calling me for that?” Peter asked. “Are you sure you don’t—“ 

“No.” 

“Y/N—“ 

“It’s okay, it’s okay, love—I mean,“she coughed. “Peter.” 

“I don’t—“

“Bye, Peter.” 

She had turned around and fell to the ground, defeated. The one thing she had loved the most, she had pushed away. None of her life made sense at that point. Nothing, at all. Everything was so blurry. She didn’t want to be a part of that reality in which she was a stranger, an outsider to her own place. 

That was one of the last times anybody had seen her. Before that, nobody knew how hard it had been for her. People were talking. The press was talking. 

She had kept shut in her world and whenever she was seen outside she would make a scene. She’d be crying or ignoring people. 

“Y/N Stark descends into madness.” 

That was what they were saying. But she kept shut. She didn’t say a word. She knew she was falling into madness. She was seen always in her own world. They’d see her making annotations and then having to use her armour to escape situations. 

That pushed her to it. That had pushed her into trying to get herself back into a world that she could fit in, where she wouldn’t be as a psycho. She wasn’t one. People didn’t understand what she was going through. To lose the world she was supposed to live in, to add a new family member she was supposed to love and to lose her father, having to deal with the fact that she had lost him way long before. Adding an industry, a legacy, the new responsibilities, her left life. Her boyfriend. Her now ex-boyfriend. 

There were a lot of factors revolving around her supposed insanity. She guessed it was right, to think about that. To let the world think she had gone crazy and then fade out. They wouldn’t miss her. But oh, she would miss them. She would miss Pepper and Morgan and Peter. Would she be able to live in a world without Peter Parker? She didn’t know but she would find out. She was planning to stay in a world where her life didn’t have to be, to be in a world where she didn’t technically belong but she’d feel at home. It would be the same anyway, she didn’t belong in her own world either way. 

She knew people had kept talking. She went to Midtown high again, met Flash, saw MJ. 

She had seen her, pretty and different, and normal. Normal in the sole meaning that MJ wouldn’t be risking Peters life. Normal in a way that she wouldn’t be driven to insanity because MJ wasn’t supposed to be a hero. Normal, in a way that Mj could love Peter Parker and not feel guilty about it. 

And now he was with her, making a group project and in a month they’d be leaving to Europe. She should’ve gone with him. She belonged with him. But MJ was with Peter now,  y/n expected that. He probably would fall in love with her. 

While at that moment, y/n had gone straight to insanity. She didn’t know who she was anymore. The necklace that was around her neck didn’t belong to her. The life she was living didn’t belong to her.

So that’s when her project was almost finished, it just needed one last part and she knew he only one able to help her would be the one and only Tony Stark. That was it. Or maybe she could just...

7 months had gone through after the snap and she had seen Peter one last time, she had wished for a last kiss but she hadn’t given it to him. She had taken Morgan to the park one last time, she had had tea with Steve one last time, and she had watched a last movie with Pepper, she had escaped. 

She went back in time.

There she was now, standing in front of a blue screen again. 

“Model success.” 

They read the words over and over but didn’t believe it. Both Starks had been working for about two hours. It would work, y/n’s calculations were complete, she had made it all by herself and Tony just helped her build it, he was more than impressed. Tony knew she was alone, he realized that not even Peter had helped her with this. He knew that she hadn’t had Steve Rogers and he knew that she hadn’t approached Pepper. He was terrified because he knew that he wasn’t there, he couldn’t support her. He had failed to be with her. She was alone. 

He knew why she was there and he pitied his own daughter, not even himself. He knew this wasn’t his reality because whoever was standing there was his daughter but she was nothing like y/n. He realized it then. She had lost so much that eventually, she had no choice but to lose herself. But there was still that spark, there was still that hope. He had seen it in her eyes, sparkling miracles when she saw him. 

They had talked a bit. It was the way they were both saying I love you to each other, they weren’t very talkative but they both knew it that this was the way they could show the other how much they missed each other. He had missed her for those 6 years. Tony Stark had lost her way before the snap, and he blamed himself. 

“I assume future me knows better than to be helping you,” Tony commented. 

“I—“

“That assuming that I’m still around.” 

Y/N stayed quiet as she dropped the tool in her hand. She avoided his glance.

“Well, I hope you’re taking care of Morgan.” 

“I’m sorry,” she said, breaking into tears. “I’m so sorry dad—I.”

“I know,” Tony looked up, leaving on the table the screwdriver, walking over to her. “It’s not your fault, whatever happens, will happen.” 

“No—I—“

“It’s not your fault.” 

“I wanted to make you stay.” It hurt to listen to her. 

“So did I,” Tony whispered, y/n turned her head up. “Threat was imminent. I had to protect the only thing I couldn’t live without, and I didn’t. I didn’t make you stay.” 

“It was on me—“

“No, it was on everyone, out of spite, out of—I don’t know and now,” he walked over. “I have a chance of seeing you, telling you.” 

“I shouldn’t have left.” 

“You did it for you, you knew it was right,” Tony ruffled her hair. “And if we are here to blame anyone, my word is on Rogers.” 

That made her giggle. 

“I know both of us made choices, some of them I’m not proud of,” Tony said. “But I must’ve done something right if it made you come back here.” 

“I always regretted leaving,” she admitted. 

“I know, but mostly because of Peter, I know.”

She sat down. “People say I’ve gone insane.” 

“We’ve all got a little madness,” Tony reached out for her but she had already burst in tears, barely able to breathe. 

“It’s like I’m on the outside looking in,” she said. “As if I’m looking at a life that looks like I should be living, but it doesn’t belong to me, I feel as if I’m not the one supposed to be there.” 

Tony gulped. “We should finish, you should go back to your world.” 

“I don’t want to. I’m not leaving this time.”

“You have to, you’ll regret not going back, this isn’t your world y/n.” 

“I—I can’t go back to a world where I don’t belong,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting this to work. I just planned to stay here..” 

Tony pulled his daughter into a hug, how had he let her break. She was at her lowest point. 

"You can't do that to yourself."

"I can't keep on living without having you," she said. “I—I need to stay.”

"You will regret it, eventually you'll want to see Peter, and if this works, there can't be two y/n's." 

"But--" 

They had built it, it was supposed to work. They didn’t know what to do next.

"If this works," Tony said. "If this works-- you can come, whenever you want and see me, alright? This is a portal to realities, y/n. You’ll come back whenever you want.” 

"I-- what if it-- what if this reality also--?"

"Are you trying to impede bringing everyone back?" Tony frowned. 

Y/n was sure of it. She had gone insane. Suddenly every newspaper had been right, she was crazy because, at that moment, she wanted to stay there and stop him from snapping his fingers. She wanted to stop Hulk, she wanted to stop Steve from going back. She was so, so, so, so selfish. 

"Maybe there's another way, I just—I can’t leave.” 

“Yet you left Peter, you left Morgan, and Pepper,” Tony insisted. “How do you think they’re dealing with this.” 

“I—they will move on.” 

“People move on, not us.” Tony walked over to her.."We will see, but y/n, it's clear to me this is another reality because the y/n I know is a hero and she always does the right thing." 

Y/n frowned. "I'm not myself anymore, everyone says it, I might as well believe it and live to it." 

Tony rolled his eyes. "Why do you have to be such a pain in the ass like me?"

She blinked. 

“Don’t listen to them, what do they know?” 

Y/n pursed her lips. “It’s not as easy.” 

“They also said you wouldn’t be even half as smart as me, and look at you, you just basically discovered a multiverse and are willing to travel through dimensions,” Tony reminded her. 

“We don’t even know—-How do we know it works?” She asked. “I—I can’t believe I—“

“You might as well because we are going to prove it does.”

“How are we going to see this?”

“You’ll travel to a certain point in time to another reality and see if something happens.” 

“And what exactly do you have in mind?” Y/n frowned. 

“Something that’ll bring you back to your senses,” Tony warned. “Although I don’t know if I have a lab coat.” 

“Labcoat?” Y/n asked. Y/n frowned. “Where exactly are you planning to—“

“October 12th, 2015 Oscorp industries building.” 

Y/n blinked. The date did ring a bell and the place... 

“You want to see your boyfriend turn into a Spider?” Tony grinned. 

“We are not—he is— uh,” she gulped. “We broke up.” 

Tony closed his eyes. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this,” he took a deep breath, “but Peter has been the best thing that has ever happened to you.” 

“He is not—“ she lied. “I—I didn't break up with him because of-I well, I was--I think Peter should have better things than me, and he already met a girl, so it’s good.”

Tony frowned. “He didn’t break your heart, did he?” 

“I broke his.” 

“Then with more reason, you have to go back and win his heart. Let’s get this working.” 

“How are we going to know it then? We need a variable and you know—“

“Ugh, okay scientific method, then you’ll go back to this reality in that time, and then to the other reality, see if anything changes.” 

---

She was suddenly standing there, mid aisle as she looked around at the labs, everything was white and too bright for her. Maybe it had worked, there was not much to know if—had the machine worked—Earth-833 was any different than hers. There was no one way to know until something different happened. But right now, it was her own dimension. Her own Earth but years ago. 

This was her own reality. She was not ready to see Peter Parker. A young Peter Parker. She was walking down the aisle, clicking up some heels and trying to cover her clothing with the lab coat, she sneaked to get herself an ID, and she was trying to know if it worked by pressing it to open the elevator door. She knew this moment was crucial to know if it had worked. Her heart was beating fast. 

She walked into the elevator as soon as it opened. 

“Peter,” her shock was imminent. She was not expecting that. This had compromised the whole situation.“You’re wearing glasses—you’re all tiny—“ she whispered. She was about to cup his cheek when she saw he was staring at his hand and trying to cover it up. “What happened to you?”

The guy blinked and looked up. Peter was wearing his glasses, a red t-shirt. “You’re… you’re...Y/n Stark?” 

Y/n was in shock. She kept looking at him. She realized it then, he was just bitten by a spider. She was regretting everything. She wanted to stay. Make him stay. The moment she saw him, so vulnerable, so tiny, she wanted to come back to him, to his arms where she would find herself. Maybe she wasn’t lost but she had left, she was the one that got away. Away from him. That had been the reason why she had left because she couldn't be in his arms anymore because that spark in his eyes was gone. She knew that there were so many different things now that she didn’t want to care about the past, she didn’t care about her future. She just saw the figure standing in front of her, with glasses and smaller and younger. 

“Are you---y/n-- Stark? I didn’t know you worked here--ow. ”He frowned as he looked down at his hand. 

She got back to her senses. 

“Uh… Uh, uh, no, no, I get that a lot, sorry, sorry, I...” she cleared her throat. “I wish I was her, all rich. Ha, right? But I’m… I’m obviously not her, I’m older than her, she is… She is probably at uh, I don’t even know.”

“MIT probably,” Peter said, he closed his eyes. “That’s creepy, I mean everybody knows--” 

“No, no, you’re okay--” She blinked, blushing. It was weird. Seeing him. “I-- eh, I was going to go in.” 

“Yeah—eh, sorry, right,” he moved to the left, awkwardly standing and moving his hands. “Wait.. uh, how do you—How do you know my name?” 

Y/n was so nervous. He made her so nervous. Like the first time they had met, and it was as if she was meeting him again all over again. But she saw him, with hope, with everything. A 14-year-old Peter Parker, a Peter that would meet her just in a few months. 

“You have a name tag on your—shirt,” she said pointing at it. 

“Ah, right.” 

The elevator’s door closed and they didn’t move. 

“Oh--” 

“Uh--” 

They both reached over to press a button, their hands touched and they both chuckled nervously. “Sorry,” they both said. 

She smiled and pressed a random button. 

“Oh,” he looked down and then back at her. “I’m sorry-- you, you really do look a lot like her.” 

She chuckled. “Do you like her?” 

“Hm?” 

“I mean do you think she’s pretty?” 

He instantly blushed. “Well, yeah, yeah, of course--I mean. She’s y/n Stark, she’s so-- incredible and she’s super smart. And really beautiful.” 

She smiled, blushing. 

“Huh, who knows maybe you’ll end up meeting her one day and date her.” 

Peter started laughing. “As if someone like y/n Stark would ever even talk to me.” 

“You’d be surprised.” 

He cleared his throat. 

“What if someone from the future told you that? What would you do? That’d be crazy, right? Like hey, Parker, you’ll end up dating y/n Stark, or hey y/n/n you’ll end up dating a boy from Queens.” 

“I wouldn’t believe it,” Peter chuckled. “That’s insane.” 

“Huh, you really never know.” 

“Wait—“Peter scowled. “How do you know I’m from—Queens?“

Y/n blinked. “Uh—you’re from midtown high school right?” 

“Yeah—Yeah, right.” 

Y/n looked at his hand. “So, uh, why are you roaming around, did anything happen to you?” 

He gulped and covered his recent injury. 

“Ah—nothing, miss I really need to get back to my group.” 

“Right uh—they just finished the spider exhibition, so you'll probably have to go to—where did you tell me you had found them?” she whispered to herself. “Ah, right! Uh, the human power investigation.” 

“So—What floor is that?” He asked as the elevator door opened, meaning she had to get off. 

“Third floor,” she said as she stared at the opened door. “Thank you, Peter.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “What for?” 

“For—uh, the nice chat,” she lied. “Say hello to y/n Stark for me if you ever meet her, I’m sure you guys will be great friends.” 

She walked off the elevator and looked down at her watch, she was ready to go back home, she didn’t even need to prove her project worked, she needed to go back to Peter Parker. 

She came back to Tony First. 

“So how was it?”

“I was standing there looking at him and I felt alive again.

Tony grinned. “Good, But are you ready now? To go to Earth-833?” 

“Bring it on.” 

-----

Days before y/n’s disappearance. 

“Y/N Stark was seen flying with her Iron armour on Central Park, reports said that she was walking normally and when some tourists approached her she couldn’t speak to them, and as usual had another one of her countless attacks and flew off in her armour. People are wondering, has Y/N Stark truly gone insane? In a recent interview with C.E.O. of Stark Industries, Pepper Potts said that y/n is still grieving the loss of her father and shouldn’t be judged, what she saw and did before and after the blip was too much to handle--” 

“Y/n Stark, she’s the clue to all of this!” Quentin Beck said as he stood up, turning the volume down. “That’s it! I’m a genius!” He laughed. “Wherever she is, we need to find her! She’s all messed up already, it’ll make it easier!” 

William Ginter Riva paused as he looked at him. “What are you planning to do with her?” 

“Her brains might bring something in, if we trick her well enough she might even make this project better, and can you believe that someone like her is the heir to all the Stark Industries?” Beck laughed. “That kid’s gone so insane, she’ll help us, she’s so obsessed with that bastard of Tony Stark, we need to find her and when we find her—we will make her believe Tony is back! Then it’ll be easier to get into the system, and if we control her, we will control all of Stark Industries, we will have access to a whole new world of possibilities..” 

“As if we had a chance to get around her, she’s got a lot of security and she’s constantly having panic attacks, she’ll probably kill us with her armour before we even get the chance to get to her,” Victoria Snow said. “We need to really think this through.” 

“Besides we need a great story to convince her, and someone that could break her,” Dr Jensen said. 

“Wasn’t she dating Peter Parker?” Janice Lincoln, an unknown scientist former employee of Stark Industries asked. 

“She was,” Victoria answered. “As long as I remember, she was all over the place for him, they’d sneak to the labs sometimes.”

“Then it’s like taking candy from a baby! We’ll use both of them to manipulate the other,” Beck added. “She’s so vulnerable right now, we need to find a way to know exactly what she is doing, or… let’s get an idea from her, I’m sure she is building something,or—let’s make her think that she can bring Tony back, make her trust us, make Tony Stark appear in front of her, Lion King style all “Remember who you are” that kind of shit then we go from there. We will have the insane y/n Stark giving us the entire industry to our hands, and besides if we use her to get to Peter Parker we will manage to get E.D.I.T.H.” 

“But who would she trust? Who would she trust enough to believe it? We need to make sure she knows it’s real, she’s smart, she might be bonkers but she’s smart.” Asked Guterman.

“Peter Parker probably,” Victoria said. 

Beck wrinkled his nose. “No, no, we don’t know the kid enough to create an illusion, we’d need someone predictable.” 

“Steve Rogers,” Riva suggested. “She ran away with him.” 

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Beck said. “The only problem is that Steve Rogers isn’t--” 

“He’s alive,” Janice said. “Our recent information confirmed he’s living in Brooklyn, but he’s old now I’m not sure how that happened.” 

“So Steve Rogers appears to her, we get an idea to her head to bring Tony Stark back, we make Tony appear several times and then gosh I feel so wrong for this but how I wish--I hate y/n Stark more than I hate Tony Stark, she said I was unstable, can you believe it? I wanna make her so unstable that she doesn’t know what’s real anymore, I want her to go completely insane.” 

“An illusion of Steve Rogers we shall have,” Riva said. 

“If Tony was awful he wasn’t half as bad as she was,” agreed Victoria. “At least Tony knew he was a joke, y/n Stark believes everything she does needs to be far from all the hero’s duty, she is s full of herself.” 

“And that’s why we are taking her down as well, someone with her brains shouldn’t be out there fighting against us, we need her in our team even if we’re forcing her to be with us--She is just like us! Even she was tired of her being supposed to be a hero, the world didn’t listen or cared about her unless she was wearing a suit and now look at her! Let’s take her in our control, she will listen to us--Or at least, she’ll listen to her father.” 

“Then let’s do it,” said Victoria.

“This will be the doom of y/n Stark,” Beck smirked.  

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Almost kissing Spider-Man had felt like cheating. Though, you actually were not even near from cheating because you a) were not dating Peter anymore b) you didn’t even lean over. However, you were cheating yourself. Your feelings, whatsoever. Idled by the constant question.

But now, you were sure of one thing. The arachnid boy had slowly made his way into your heart. Yes, you had a crush on him, now you were sure. And it had been so different from your crush on Peter. Or maybe not so far from it, but your crush on Peter had developed long ago, maybe when you were a freshman. The young guy with sweaters and glasses who was usually taking pictures for the school’s newspaper had won your heart oh so easily, with that nervous voice he had and with those pair of shinning eyes that could easily melt you. You had first had a crush on Peter because you found him attractive, but as you got to know him better, and found out how smart and kind he was, the boy had you quickly wrapped around him, head over heels, falling for him. Yet, with Spider-Man, it had been quick, the impossible crush had come possible, and you didn’t even know what he actually looked like. He had managed to make you crush on him by blinding you and showing off his authentic and adorable personality, he was sarcastic, and quirky and so confident, and somehow you knew that the hero felt something for you, too. He had been the one to lean in, he also wanted to kiss you.

His lips had looked so desirable, so plush, so... perfect. You wondered what they tasted like. Probably like coffee. You didn’t know if his lips actually did look as kissable or if you were actually so in need of Peter’s that you were hallucinating. You knew that somehow Spider-Man was pushing your feelings away from Peter, he was replacing him. Yeah, a sort of rebound. You weren’t proud of that. At least your hands didn’t miss Peter’s hands as much. Or that’s what you were trying to convince because you could still feel Peter’s finger slowly lacing you like the day before. Or how his arms had been wrapped around you once more.

But you were craving them even more. You wished for Peter to be there already with his lips pressing against your cheek, and giggling against you as you told him about your Spanish test.

It had been raining, all day and you were still drying up your hair, because you had had to walk from the school to the subway, and you were soaking.

“Y/N,” MJ finally snapped you back into reality. You blinked twice before realizing you and Peter were staring at each other. “So, you were telling me...”

“Hm?” You turned to MJ, with your eyes still going back to Peter, who was going through a similar scenario with Ned, who was bumping Peter’s head as he just looked at him confused.

“You saw Peter?” She asked, not amused.

“I... yeah,” you blinked twice once more and shook your head trying to focus on the conversation and forget about either Peter or Spider-Man. “At the cafe...”

“And?” MJ was unamused as you were still glancing at Peter.

“Well, uh, we talked,” you shrugged. “About inside jokes or lame things we used to do, but we didn’t really solve anything because he had to leave, as usual.”

“Right,” MJ followed your gaze. Ned was carefully listening to Peter. That’s when you noticed Peter had a bandaid on his chin. Could it be? No, you shook of the thought.

“And well we...” you bit your lip before quickly and quietly saying the following words “we held hands and then I hugged him and said we could be friends.”

“You know, I heard that,” MJ assured you. “You really think after all this time I haven’t figured out how to understand your nervous speaking?” She smirked as she watched you. “Hey, it’s not bad, you still have feelings for him, right?”

“I... do,” you said.

“I mean, you’re basically eating him with your gaze so,” she laughed as you judged her.

“What happened on his chin?” You asked, completely avoiding the whole having feelings because you still had your mind thinking about Spider-Man..

MJ frowned watching, as she shrugged. “I don’t know, he’s kind of clumsy.”

Peter had such a confused glance as he was talking to Ned, but he didn’t look sad for once. His face had brightened up and his lips were forming a smile, he had his cheeks were tinkling red.

Your mind kept wandering off until you finally faced Peter in chemistry, as usual he was already there when you arrived. He looked up at you, and you made your way to your table. For once, you said hello, and he shyly answered. He cleared his throat and started talking about chemistry, and only chemistry. However, you noticed that he had come back at telling lame chemistry jokes.

“That was sodium funny,” you dared to joke, too, causing Peter to sparkle up. You smiled. And you continued, and even walked to your next class together. You stayed outside the classroom waiting for it to start.

“So, what are we?” Peter asked and you frowned.

“We’re friends, Peter,” you answered. You realized that having Peter away had been even more painful than you had planned it to be.

“Real friends?” He inquired.

“I guess,” you shrugged, “Maybe not as close as before, but...”

“I guess I can deal with that,” he answered. “It’s been hard,” he added.

“Can we... just pretend, at least for today that nothing happen? Let’s go back to our friendship.”

“I’m not sure I can do that,” he shrugged. “I mean...”

“What happened on your chin?” You asked, glancing at the spot changing the subject completely, your fingers delicately caressed Peter’s chin as you cupped his cheek. It was something you did automatically, but Peter was startled by your touch. He was so warm.

“Uh,” his hand reached for yours as you kept inspecting the bandaid. Mickey Mouse bandaid, you laughed mentally. He was the same old Peter. Peter couldn’t make out any words because he was still bemused by your hand.

“It’s funny,” you chuckled. “Just yesterday I healed...”

“Hm?” He raised both his eyebrows and cleared his throat.

“I...” you finally let his face go, and backed away, embarrassed. You wanted to keep admiring his face but you couldn’t give any explanations.

“It’s a funny story, I eh, actually bumped into a lamppost,” he excused himself and you didn’t even have time to question it because the teacher was already rushing you in, as also Flash had walked in on you. Flash kept bothering you the whole class asking why someone like you wanted to go back with Peter. You, of course, ignored him, even when he was following you both to lunch. Asking you to sit with him but you politely declining it to sit with Peter.

Flash threatened Peter, as usual. And you flipped him off.

MJ was boringly listening to Ned, as he was gossiping and jumping around. When they both saw you and Peter coming together, they, synchronized, stared at each other and then back at you, scared.

“We’re friends now,” you cleared as you both sat down, Peter nodded. But you both knew your conversation wasn’t over and you still needed to clear out a lot of things, specially since you were planning on seeing the spider hero again.

Both MJ and Ned stayed quiet. If you had scissors you could easily cut out the tension.

“Have you kept seeing Spider-Man?” MJ later asked, causing the three of you to just stare and blink at her. You even kind of choked on your food. Peter and Ned just side eyed each other.

“I...” You shrugged. “Yeah, I’ve seen him swinging around the city,” you declared.

“You know Spider-Man?” Ned asked.

“Yeah, met him once,” you lied and Ned bit his inner cheeks. Peter kept playing with his food. “You know him, don’t you Pete?”

“Yeah, met him through the stark internship,” he nodded. “Actually, I talked to him yesterday, he told me about his day,” Peter continued as he watched you, and in that moment you couldn’t help but feel guilty. Did he know? Would Spider-Man be so stupid to talk to your ex boyfriend about what was going on?

There wasn’t anything really going on, except for the fact you kept seeing each other and that you had almost kissed him. Psh. Nothing.

“Oh, that’s interesting,” you answered.

“It was,” Peter looked down at his food, and you noticed how his cheeks were burning up.

It was study night, and you had been willing to ask this from a long time ago, but of course you waited until last minute to ask. “So, study night my place?” Peter froze, as he glanced up, afraid he wasn’t invited as well. “All three of you.”

Peter nodded.

You kept wondering why you had done that, so eventually you ended up fidgeting with the little spider after school, you were at Delmar’s. And before you could even press the spider, you saw Peter walk in, shaking off some water because it was still raining, and Mr. Delmar watched between him and you. Peter turned around and was once again startled to see you.

“Hey,” you said.

“Hey.”

“Wanna... join me?” You asked and he bit his lip.

“I... would love to.”

“But?”

“The Stark-“ he paused. “No, it can wait.”

Well, that was new. You felt your stomach burn up and twist. Peter Parker, you wondered, why are you suddenly more interested in spending time with me? He usually was off to his internship by now, never strayed. Were you dreaming? Because, oh in this world full of hope, we call what that which we love the most our deepest dreams. Yet it wasn’t another hopeful imagination, this was real. Peter was there, all livid, all there. Looking perfect.

He opened up one of the packs of gummies that he usually bought. He tossed one of them at you, and you smiled. “Thanks.”

And you were excited, excited and scared. This was one kind of dates you’d share after school, just hanging out at Delmar, but it was slightly different, he’d have his arms around you and you’d be tossing gummies and he’d catch them with his mouth, kisses on cheeks, giggles against necks. It was like a nice melody that you couldn’t describe. But today, he was sitting across you, with his feet shaking and his hands fiddling with the gummies.

“Do you think you’ll catch this?” You asked, raising a green gummy and he laughed.

“You and your green gummies,” he grinned while looking down. “Bring it on,” he challenged you as you tossed one at him, he caught it fair and squared.

“Betcha won’t,” he said, and he tossed a red one at you. You didn’t catch it.

And with that, a kind of flirty, innocent and childish war started. Suddenly you were back to a few months ago, just laughing and ignoring all of your problems, with the rain dancing behind you.

“Gosh, don’t you effing miss being in love?” The words had slipped way too fast for you to stop them.

Peter went tense, his claw was clenched and his sandwich sporadically was more interesting.

“I...sorry,” you apologized. “I guess we haven’t talked about anything by now and maybe it’s... time.”

“Want me to be honest?” He looked up at you. “I love you, I just want to be holding you right now, I wanna go back and just be happy again, I wanna see you smile with that precious smile you have, and share your success, kiss you, watch movies with you, dance with your heart and soul and just be able to call you mine.”

You stared at him, quietly. You agreed, you needed him. You didn’t know what to do with yourself anymore, he was just your everyday routine. A routine you’d never get tired of, because it was oh so full of surprises. You were fighting back the urge to jump and kiss him.

“Y/N, you’ve got my heart, but I am such... such a mess,” he sighed running a hand through his hair.

“And who says I don’t want to be part of that mess?” You asked him.

“You can’t fix it,” he sighed. “And I don’t want to keep hurting you, because you deserve better, I don’t want you to waste your time. You deserve better.”

“Maybe I do,” you knew the tears would come once again. “But I want you, Peter.”

“Don’t make a fool of yourself, you’re pushing yourself down,” he snapped and leaned back, his voice was shaking and his eyes were turning red. “I don’t think you’d understand.”

“Then explain Peter!” You cried. “Why can’t we fight just for this... if we both feel something? We could...”

“Don’t you think I wish I could just run back to you?”

“Then why don’t you, Peter?”

“Because I keep hurting you, I know you’d be happier with someone,” he started.

“What’s it that you’re hiding Peter? Wanna know why we are where we are? Because you keep avoiding it, you wanted it to ignore it for a long time, but I’ve fought, I’ve always fought for us, but you? Be true to yourself, Peter, you’ve never risked anything for this, I know you have secrets but I... you wanted me to love you blindly.”

“No, y/n,” he started. “Don’t say that I haven’t fought for us because this whole month I’ve been...”

“You’ve been gone, please, let’s face it, we already are defeated, we can’t be anymore, we were forced into disaster,” you sighed. “Guess we were meant to fall apart.”

“We were not, I...”

“You make no sense Peter, you...” you sighed and stood up. “Whatever you’re going through, that mess of yours, just know... pushing away the ones you love won’t fix it.”

You walked out of Delmars with no tears running down. Maybe you just knew things would end up like this, maybe a part of you was used to Peter’s nonsense. A part of you, wanted him to follow you. And he did.

“Y/N,” he reached out for you and gave you his coat, though it wouldn’t make any difference. Rain was already pouring down your face. “Be safe.”

That’s all he had to say, as he wrapped his coat around you. Giving you perfect memories to treasure, making it so hard to get over him. The rain was pouring down his face and you cupped it, and without giving a second thought, you kissed him. And he kissed you back, but before he could say anything you placed your finger on his mouth and shook your head.

“That was my final goodbye,” and with that you turned away, with him standing on the pouring rain. “You are,” you started. “Still welcomed at the study night.”

And with that, you left, went straight to the subway and straight home, knowing how cliched your goodbye had been. But you needed it, one last kiss from Peter that you’d remember your whole life. You knew he probably wasn’t going to show up.