#spooderman

✐ᝰ spiderman x fem!reader

✐ᝰ syn: you and peter agree to wind down and make dinner for each other after his workload has been taking up all the time he could be with you. but you become anxious that he can’t commit to his promise. you call him and when he answers, you overhear a conversation you weren’t supposed to hear.

✐ᝰ a.n: domestic fluff, emotional traumas, cheating, angst. I’m honestly not the best at writing, making these to hopefully get better. For no reason, I need a hobby. It’s my first fic, be nice…please.

You weren’t anyone to judge, but everything was hard for you to do deal with alone. Nonetheless, you were patient. For a few days, days turned into a weeks and then months, then eventually you had enough. But there was a pit in your stomach, a feeling you couldn’t shake. It over took your mind and sent it swirling, your heart wired to his. You felt guilty to feel this way. You know it’s hard for him to handle too.

Your teeth peeled the skin from your lips. You were attempting to calm yourself, your thoughts. The TV playing for the past hour and still you heard nothing from it. Today, you planned something with Peter, at 7pm the two of you are going to make dinner at your apartment, watch a movie, and if luck is on your side sleep soundly.

Spiderman was someone every kid looked up to and happened to be what the city officials entrusted their security to. It is an honor to him, with all the blood, sweat, and sleepless nights they city of Queens give their respects to him.

The clock hit 6:45, there’s still no sign of Peter. You gathered the ingredients out of the paper bag, it was his idea to make Singapore curry noodles.

Your eyes flickering at the clock on the white stove the apartment complex gifted you. The apartment came furnished, with a few things the old renter didn’t take. You read 6:57, and all the vegetables laid out on the kitchen counter, you straighten up the red bell pepper and let out a sigh.

The wind chime rung softly to the breeze of the night sky. You look over at your empty window, pausing for a moment that maybe he’d slip through. You’re left with nothing. The porcelain clatter against the metal once more. You sigh, “why make this difficult for me”

You grab your phone, unlocking it and staring at Peter’s last message he sent. A selfie of him with his mask pressed against a wine bottle.

For us to wine down

Get it? Wind down… wine.. :P love you

You received it at 6:07, the sun setting in the picture. You glance over at the dark sky outside the window. The time is now 7:05.

Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as the pad of your finger pressed the phone icon. It started to ring.

On the other end, Peter felt his phone vibrate. In the distance, cans clanked on the New York floors, residents preparing for trash day tomorrow.

“You couldn’t pick any other day to chase me down?” He says through the mask, keeping his distance.

Felicia smirks, “spidey, I missed you, life’s not the same without you” her heels echo. Peter sat against the wooden box at the top of an apartment building.

“That’s because it’s different now,” Peter states “I’m in a relationship now, you know that.”

She giggles, “that didn’t stop us before, why now?”

He felt a bubble form in his throat, annoyed at her response. It will forever haunt him as long as she’s alive. He was dumb and angry; Mary-Jane, his ex, did not cooperate with his lifestyle. She didn’t know, of course, he contemplated on telling her multiple times. But she was already too stubborn to talk to in general.

Felicia Hardy, stealthily entangled with Peter after a harsh argument he had with Mary-Jane, he regretted it the morning after. It was wrong of him and he knew it too. Since that day, he still doesn’t know what got over him. After she broke up with him, he laid low, focusing on his studies and saving lives. He wasn’t planning on entering the dating world after his unfaithfulness.

Then, he met you.

“I have important places to be” Peter picks up the wine bottle from the abandoned box, he turns away from her. “She’s different, Felicia, don’t get in the way.”

“She’s different” she emphasizes, “is my good boy spidey the same?”

“I was young, Felicia,” the defeat in his voice, “why can’t you just bug off?” He was interrupted by a gust of wind, he can see the sparkle in her blue eyes and her hips sway closer to him.

“You don’t mean that, love, do you?” As her hand reaches for his chin, he shrugs her away.

It takes him a while to say something, and with everything else you heard from the phone you couldn’t wait any longer for a response. Your heart pulses in your ears, your hand quivering over your mouth. You hung up and dropping your phone on the faux suede couch. Cheating is not something you take lightly, it haunts you from your previous relationship.

But Peter, he’s patient, and aware of your anxious attachment. He doesn’t blame you for it, he knows you’ve been cheated on in the past and he’s always been there to relieve your mind when it takes over. He told you he was Spiderman a year into the relationship, because you sobbed in his lap about your frustrations. He didn’t know how you’d take it, at first you didn’t believe him, you didn’t want him to think you were naive. But he took you for a swing, and explained what happens when he puts on the mask.

For a while, you were calm, he’d visit you occasionally and cuddle you to sleep. You became his safe space. After a few battles that left him bruised and scrapped, he’d go to you and you’d patch him up, sewing up open wounds. You learned quicker than your colleagues in nursing school.

But these flare ups, they made you feel insane, like instinctively you knew not to let your guard down. Guilt won overtime, but after peter accidentally answered your call… you knew to trust your gut feeling.

You weren’t mad at Peter, he didn’t say anything wrong, but he didn’t tell you his wrongs either. Well, he can say it’s none of your business, but had you known he’s had a history of cheating, things would be different.

But did you want things to be different?

Your vision is blurry and you choke on your breath. You wipe your tears away, “oh god,” you sob. You stay seated on your couch, the commercials buzz, but you pull your legs up to your chest and cry.

There’s nothing to do of this situation, he’s not in the wrong. You can’t help but to think you’re way over your head, the woman sounded comfortable. Her giggle, you can remember it. She’s sexy, you know it.

“Sorry I’m late!” Peter hops through the window, “I was trying to find an outfit to match the occasion, then I grabbed another for tomorrow—“

He set the wine down on the bar counter, his head snaps at the sound of your sniffling. He rushes over, “hey” his voice is soft as he takes a seat beside you. The warmth of his arms bring you closer to his chest. “What’s got you down, y/n? Was it me?”

You feel the stronger urge to sob, but you shake your head, you want to ignore it. “I’m sorry, I-I just…” you stand up avoiding his eyes “I missed you, that’s all.”

He watches you walk to the kitchen, shoulders stiff and your pace quickened. His eyes flinch at the sound of you lying, “I’m sorry to keep you waiting” he sees you grab a pan out of the oven and place it on the stove.

He gets up from the couch, his eyes land on your phone faced down on the floor. He bends over to pick it up, the screen lights up, the time is now 7:37 and you’ve got one notification about your internships schedule. He sets the phone on the coffee table and walks to you. His arms snake around your waist, “I missed you” he whispers, his chin resting on your shoulder.

You shrug him off, I missed you. Her voice echoed through your head.

His eyebrows stitched, “what did I do, y/n? Tell me.”

You grab the cutting board, and place the green bell pepper against it. You cut the stem off, slicing it in half as he asks you. You don’t respond, still conflicted if you should mention it.

He waits for you to say something, but you continue to prepare dinner. He hears your heart beating at second quicker than your normal rhythm. He wishes he could hear your thoughts, he knows you’re thinking about something.

“I really tried to get here on time—“

“It’s not about that,” you finally speak “Peter.”

His name used as a period, he feels his stomach churn. He knows something isn’t right. He feared it, as crime begins to pick up, he’s dealing with something more difficult. An anti-hero who he manages to always get in the way. It’s taking up a lot of his time, he senses you’d become impatient someday. He can’t help but to think, you have every right to feel that way. He sees the way you see things and he fears you don’t carry the same amount of patience he does.

“Are you sure?”

You hesitate to finish slicing the other half of the bell pepper, just like you’re hesitating to bring up the conversation you overheard. You bit your lip and close your eyes, you know it’d bring you relief to know more about her.

“Who is she, Peter?” Your voice cracks.

He’s puzzled, that’s the last thing he’d expect you to ask. “There’s no one else, y/n”

“Don’t lie to me”

He bites his tongue, you responded too quick and he suspects you know of the black cat that lingers behind him. He’s cautious, “she’s no one.”

You put the knife down, your eyes fill with tears in reaction to his response. He lunges at you, “let me explain” he repeated but you felt your nerves start to send you in a panic.

“I called you,” you admitted “did you know that?”

He shakes his head, “I didn’t…”

“I heard everything.”

He doesn’t say anything, he knows exactly what you heard. “I wanted to tell you… but it just…”

You tried to brush past him but he grabbed onto you, “you told me about you getting cheated on and I got scared.”

“I don’t even know what to say” you didn’t want to blame him for his past mistakes, he’s learned from them. But you couldn’t shake this anxious feeling on top of that.

“I’m different, y/n” his voice is hoarse, “you’re someone I don’t want to loose. Please, hear me out.”

You steady your breathing and nod. Flushed from your ruminating thoughts, your hands are holding your warm cheeks as he explains. She definitely was someone you’d fear, you have every right to, because everything you thought, she was 10x more. But Peters voice was stern and believing when he says he regretted ever interacting with her.

“I love you,” he sighed pulling you in for a hug, “I’m sorry I don’t get to say that enough.”

“You do—“

“Seconds! Every second you should hear me say it because I truly mean it. IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou.” He shakes his head “even still, I’m not saying it enough.”

You chuckle and to him, that’s a relief. You look into his eyes and he’s in awe. “I love you” he whispers again as his lips hover over yours, he kisses you slowly. His hands sliding down, caressing small of your back.

“I wanna hear you say it” he smiles into the kiss and you do. A mumble out of your mouth, his lips are fighting your words, but he hears you.

He pulls his head back, “I’m hungry” he whines.

You shake your head with a smile, “Whine? Before preparing dinner?” You joked.

His laugh warmed your heart, “I knew you liked that one.”