Tagging my taglist for TLO so those who were reading it can be informed, sorry that it’s been ages and most/all of you may not even want to be tagged anymore!! 😅 Just let me know and I’ll remove you, no hard feelings 🥰

Tagging my taglist for TLO so those who were reading it can be informed, sorry that it’s been ages and most/all of you may not even want to be tagged anymore!! 😅 Just let me know and I’ll remove you, no hard feelings 🥰

Sure, maybe you hadn’t had much luck in the love department in the past, but at the very least, you’d been able to say no one had ever run away at the idea of dating you before. Well, until now. So, not only will you have to deal with whatever awkwardness comes from all of that, but you’ll also likely be cornered into answering Monica’s inevitable million-and-five questions, while trying not to corner Peter with all million-and-ten of your own, along with actually, you know, doing your job.

You’d already spent the previous evening after you’d gotten home from the cafe dodging phone calls and texts from your family and friends, because, on top of not wanting to have the same conversation 50 times in a row, you really didn’t have any answers to give them. None that you really could say, anyway.

Whether Peter had come to grips with the fact that you two were supposedly soulmates by now or not, you didn’t think that your…relationship? Friendship?? Acquaintanceship??? - whatever it was - would be off to a very good start if the first thing you did was blab to the world that he was Spider-Man. You also didn’t think your loved ones would be too thrilled with the idea that you’d apparently be marrying the masked hero one day, either.

So, you’d taken the safe route and sat at home, going about your night as if nothing had happened, despite everything having changed in quite literally the blink of an eye. You’d gotten changed into your comfiest clothes, cuddled up underneath your softest blanket with your favorite drink and snacks in hand, and watched your favorite movies, tuning out the rest of the world for the next few hours in the process. And really, what else could you have done at a time like that?

Needless to say, by the time you actually arrive at your job in the morning, you’re more than a little nervous. You suck in a large breath before opening the door and entering in, greeted by the little bell, only to realize it’s unusually quiet. There’s no chatter, no beeping, no typing, no tools clattering or clanking… Nothing.

“Hello?” You call out, checking the time on your phone to make sure you didn’t get so nervous or caught up in your thoughts that you’d accidentally arrived way earlier than intended.

8:45 am

You’re right on time, so where…?

It’s then that Monica darts out from the back, scaring the life out of you in the process.

“THERE YOU ARE!” She yells, bounding over to you and immediately grabbing you by the arms. She leads you over to your seat and plops you down, not even letting you say a word, catch your breath, or put your things away before the words begin tumbling out of her mouth as she grabs a chair for herself to sit beside you.

“Why haven’t you returned any of my calls or texts?! I have been trying to get a hold of you for hours now, y/n! Since yesterday! I saw everything on the news, and then again all over my timeline- I am so mad at myself for not tagging along anyway, despite it being all my doing to begin with, ‘cause I would’ve loved to have seen that in person, ya know? Like, what are the chances-- But I can not believe that you and Peter are soulmates! Who would’ve thought?! I mean, I kind of did - not like in the ACTUAL soulmate sense with the glowy aura thing or whatever, but more-so in like, the ‘you two would be so cute together’ kind of way, but STILL!”

“Monica.”

“And then I tried to call you because I wanted to ask if you were okay, since I saw in one of the videos that he just kinda left after the glowy thing went away, which was actually kinda rude, in my opinion, but whatever, maybe he freaked. Can’t say I blame him, to be honest. I probably would have too, ya know? Universe out here saying I’ve got a soulmate that’s someone I just met? Shoot, I’d have gotten up and left, too, know what I’m saying? But then I realized it was YOU we were talking about, here, and no one should be walking out on you, so I called and called, but you didn’t-”

“Monica-”

“-answer me, so I gave you some time, ya know, I figured you were probably still in shock too, and probably had other people to talk to before me, but then hours went by and I tried again and again and you still-”

“Monica!” You asserted, leaning forward into her face to draw her attention.

“Oh! Oh. Right. Yeah. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you laughed, leaning back again. “I’m sorry for not answering you, Mon. It’s…It’s been a lot to process. And I still haven’t even heard a word from him since. I’m not sure how I would have, but… I don’t know. I was just kind of hoping to sort it all out today. Where is he, anyway? Aren’t techs supposed to be here by 8:30?”

Monica’s face falls.

“What’s that look for?”

“He’s not on schedule today,” she says softly, wincing when she sees your shoulders slump. “Yesterday was only his orientation, so I gave him today off so he could officially start with a full week and work with Jason when he comes back on Monday. We didn’t have any clients booked this week, and I didn’t realize, at the time, that…”

“Ah. Right. Yeah, no, it’s fine. That makes sense. I can just…” You gesture your hands to nothing in particular for a moment before sighing. “I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry, y/n,” Monica says softly.

“No, no, don’t be, it’s okay. You didn’t know. Heck, I didn’t even know,” you laugh, trying to brush it off.

Thankful as you are to not have to face Peter while things are still fresh and awkward, you still have a load of questions running rampant through your mind that you’d like answered. But at least this gives you the time to sort your thoughts, so for that, you’re grateful. And then an idea hits you.

“Don’t suppose you could just ‘happen’ to slip me his phone number from his application?” You question, only halfway joking.

Monica smiles. “You know I can’t.”

“Worth a shot,” you shrug.

Monica stands and gives you another sympathetic smile with a hand on your shoulder before she retreats to the back, calling out “let me know if you need anything,” before she disappears from sight entirely.

You take a moment to collect your thoughts before placing your hands on your lap and giving yourself a push, standing and finally putting your belongings away. You make yourself a warm drink in the break room to go back to your desk with, and smile to yourself. For everything you’ve experienced in the last 24 hours, you’d say you’re handling it all fairly well, and you’re at least proud of yourself for that.

You’re just about to sit down when you hear the front door’s bell jingle, and you feel your heart flutter at the thought that it might be Peter walking through the door. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up and there’s a twist in your stomach. It’s a feeling you can’t quite describe: one that’s part nerves, which was to be expected, but also a part alongside it that you can’t quite place.

When you look up, it’s your coworker, Reese, instead, and your face drops slightly.

“Well, try not to look too disappointed to see me, y/n,” she laughs. “I know I didn’t bring my baby, but I thought you’d at least be a little happier to see me, too.”

You smile at her. “No, Reese, I’m sorry. I am happy to see you, really, I just wasn’t expecting to see you. I was…” You trail off. “It’s not important. What brings you in? I thought you weren’t coming back?”

“I’m not,” she shrugs. “I have to come in to sign off for my last paycheck to be mailed to me once my leave is over, though. Is Monica in right now or is she on lunch already?”

“It’s not even ten yet,” you laugh. “She’s moved it up to 11 these days, though, so I’m sure we’ll get to the 10:30 lunch soon enough. She’s in her room, want me to call for her?”

“Nah, I can go grab her in a minute. I actually wanted to ask you something first, if that’s okay?”

You quirk an eyebrow at her in response.

“The person you were expecting…Couldn’t happen to be the person I’ve been seeing you all over Instagram with today, could it?” Reese smiles. “If that’s a sensitive subject, you don’t have to answer.”

“No, it’s fine, thank you, though.” You sigh softly. “But, yeah, that’s who I was expecting. His name’s Peter. He’s the new hire to take your spot, actually. He just had orientation yesterday. If you want the full story, I’m sure Monica will give it to you even if you don’t ask for it once you go back there, but otherwise, I’m sure you’ve seen anything that I could tell you.”

Reese laughs and walks over to you, her face softening. “Are you doing okay? Be honest with me.”

“Honestly? I don’t know. It all happened so fast. One minute he’s the new cute coworker, and the next, he’s my soulmate. And then before I can even say a word to him, he’s running off, and I haven’t heard from him since. So I just have a lot of questions, and I don’t even know where to start.”

“I’d think starting at the source would be a good place, don’t you?”

“Well, yeah, obviously,” you roll your eyes, smiling at her. “But it’s not like I can show up at his doorstep or anything. I don’t have his phone number, I don’t know where he lives, and he won’t be back to work until Monday. And that’s if he decides to show up at all, instead of quitting or skipping town altogether.”

“And miss out on all this?” Reese says incredulously, gesturing at you. “He’d be an absolute fool.”

You smile and laugh lightly, shaking your head. “I don’t know, Reese. It’s a lot to take in for both of us. Can’t say I would blame him too much. I just wish we could talk about it and see where we stand. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see how it all plays out, you know?”

She smiles and nods, patting you on your shoulder. “It’s good seeing you, y/n. I know it’s only been a month but I’ve missed you. And I’m gonna miss seeing you and having the usual nights out with you and Monica.”

“Those don’t have to stop just because you’re not working here anymore and had a baby, ya know,” you say. “I’m sure Monica would jump at the chance to come over and cuddle that little one, so if you ever want some company, you know you can always ask and we’ll be there. Or we can go out and grab something to eat, even if it’s just for a little while or you bring him along with us or something.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you,” she smiles. “I’m gonna head back there. I figure if she’s going to tell me her version of this story, I might as well get a start on it now so I can get back home before I need to breastfeed again.”

“Yeah, of course, go on. Good seeing you, Reese.”

“You too, y/n. Keep your chin up.”

“I’ll try my best,” you smile.

You turn back to your computer and finally begin your work, answering emails and returning phone calls from voicemails left the evening prior after the shop closed. You’re in the middle of a call when Reese leaves nearly half an hour later, playfully rolling her eyes and shaking her head as she gestures back towards Monica’s workspace, letting you know Monica had, as expected, definitely given Reese the rundown on yesterday’s events. You smile and mouth a goodbye at her, waving as she shuts the door quietly so as to not disturb your call.

You’re thankful that the rest of the day goes by rather nicely beyond that. There are a few more phone calls here and there for basic questions that you can answer, having answered them hundreds of times before, with a few appointments set up for future clients that will be in next week when Jason (and hopefully Peter) have returned. A few people stop in throughout the day with more basic fixes that you or Monica are luckily able to help them with, but aside from that, it’s a smooth and easy-going day with not much to do.

By the time you’re just about ready to clock out for the day, you’ve hardly thought about Peter at all, all things considered. You’re standing, hunched over your chair, grabbing a few things from beneath your desk to place inside your bag, when the front door bell chimes again. You look up, opening your mouth to greet them with your usual spiel, expecting it to be one more last-minute client.

Only this time, it’s Peter.

Your back immediately straightens and your jaw falls slack, unsure of what to say. It’s as if all the questions you’d had since last night disappeared at the sight of him, the English language almost stripped from your mouth and brain entirely. Thankfully, Peter takes the initiative and speaks first, instead, saving you the trouble.

“Hey, y/n. Um...Can we talk?”

---

But now he's home - thankful that May currently isn't - and he's ignoring the constant buzzing of his phone as pictures, videos, and eye-witness accounts of the event make their way across the internet. This, of course, then leads to friends, acquaintances, and strangers alike, all sending him links and tagging him in posts with messages like, "is this you???"

To top it all off, the person Peter would normally clear his brain with - the one he has relied on so heavily these last ten or so years when disastrous things happen - is also, coincidentally, the one person who has been ignoring any and all contact with him for the last month.

It’s hard to resist the urge to try and call Michelle again, but he knows he shouldn’t. She’s likely to ignore the call anyway, the same as she has every other time he’s tried. He did promise to give her time and space when they broke up, and he knows he will hear from her if or when she’s ready, but that doesn’t mean his fingers haven’t already opened her contact information simply by reflex at least three times now.

By this point, he’s ready to respect whatever she has to say or final decision she’s come to, without pleading or argument. And there is a piece of him that knows, no matter how hard he tries to block it out, that they are over for good - especially after what happened today. Still yet, her voice rings through his ears, whispering words of ‘you’re all I’ve ever known,’ and ‘there’s a piece of me that will always love you,’ that give him that gut-wrenching sliver of hope that he just can’t seem to shake.

All the same, he’d do just about anything to get her opinion on this situation right now. She was always better at having a level head and seeing things for what they were, plain and simple, whereas Peter was always getting caught up in the little details of it all. Every time he had a problem, she knew just how to fix it.

Michelle would know exactly what to do here and how to handle it. But there’s no easy way to have that conversation to begin with anyway, is there? What’s he going to say - ‘oh hey, MJ, thanks for answering this time. Look, I know we were dating for nearly a decade and I was a day away from proposing before you broke my heart and have been radio silent since, and I’m still very deeply in love with you, but I just found out I’ve actually got a soulmate that’s not you, and I’d really like your advice on how to handle it’ ?

Yeah, sure. That’d go over well.

Peter sighs as he lays back on his bed, places his phone on his chest, and drapes his arm across his eyes. To say he has a lot of questions on his mind is a clear understatement, and he knows y/n likely does, too, which only makes him feel worse about running away. Especially after the second...vision, or whatever it was. Of all the people to even have a universe-dictated soulmate to begin with, why did it have to be him? And why did their “moment” have to reveal the secret he’s kept for the last 12 years? He’s only just met them, afterall, what if he can’t trust them? For all Peter knows, y/n is out there telling the world what they saw in those visions, and it’s only a matter of time before his front door is kicked in by any and all of his enemies.

As if on cue, there’s a knock at the door that makes Peter jump off his bed, sending his phone towards the floor. He huffs, not bothering to pick it up as he makes his way out of his bedroom and to the front door. Whoever is behind it knocks again on his way there.

“I’m coming, I’m c-” Peter’s words stop abruptly as he opens the door to reveal Michelle standing there, drenched to the core. His jaw falls slack, the hand he’d had on the knob falling to his side as he looks back over his shoulder, out the living room window, to realize that, at some point in the last hour, it must have begun raining. He looks back to her, shock still evident on his face. “Hey, um- wow. You…Okay. Well, um…Come on in.”

“Thank you.”

Her voice is as soft as a breeze, and yet it brings a clutching ache to Peter’s chest, as if it had been as loud as fireworks set off directly next to him. It takes him a moment to realize that she is, indeed, here, standing before him, and not just in his imagination. It’s only been a mere month, but seeing her now feels like the first time all over again. A singular moment has passed, but in that moment, half a lifetime has raced through his thoughts.

“I’ll uh, I’ll go get you a towel,” Peter says, motioning towards the hall. The corners of Michelle’s lips twitch up in a small smile, and she nods once as a way of thanks.

Peter can guess with utmost certainty what brings her to his door in the pouring rain, and he’s betting it’s not because she wants to get back together - despite the small part of his heart that begs him to believe otherwise.

“Here,” he says, passing her the towel, which she uses to ring the ends of her hair. “Can I get you anything? Change of clothes, something to drink?”

“I’m alright,” Michelle says. She folds the towel into a square and places it on the couch, sitting on top of it. “But thank you.”

“Of course.”

Peter sits awkwardly next to her - a space away, which feels weird to him. His head is angled down towards his lap, but his eyes are focused on her bouncing knee. She’s nervous - her heart rate alone could tell him that much, but he isn’t sure if he should talk first, or wait for her to start the conversation. It's uncomfortable enough to make Peter want to deflect with a joke, despite all of his better senses telling him to do anything else instead. But, as it happens most times, his senses lose and instincts take over-

“So I-”

“You didn’t-”

“Sorry, you go ahead,” Peter laughs, thankful the timing saved him from making the conversation any more uncomfortable than it’s already lining up to be.

Michelle sighs, a frown on her face. “You didn’t call.”

“Sorry?”

“You didn’t call,” she repeats. “I saw the news, Peter. I assumed, at first, you were probably with them, talking things over. So I waited. But then hours went by, and you still didn’t call.”

“I- I was going to. I really was. I just… I don’t know. I thought you would ignore me again.”

“What do you mean by that?” Michelle asks defensively.

“What do you mean, ‘what do I mean by that’?” Peter says, furrowing his eyebrows together. “I’ve tried calling you a dozen times this last month, MJ, and you’ve ignored every single one. You ignored my texts, too. I- I get that you needed space, and I tried to respect that, I really did, to some…small degree, I guess. But what about my side of things? How was I supposed to know where we stood, when you left things so open-ended, only to ignore me?”

Michelle says nothing for a minute, the silence only broken by the sounds of the city outside and the neighbor’s loud tv creeping through the thin walls. She opens her mouth and hesitates to speak several times, and Peter, despite his pain, is reminded of yet another thing he loves and misses about her: her ability to speak only the words she puts thought into. It was always a stark contrast to Peter’s inability to shut up, and he admired that.

It feels as if an eternity has passed by the time Michelle says, “I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry for hurting you,” she says, a little louder than before. “It wasn’t my intention, and, for what it’s worth, I didn’t want to leave you.”

“Then why did you?”

“I don’t know, Peter, I-” she begins.

“Yes you do.”

Michelle sighs. “Yes, I do.”

“And?”

“I saw the ring.” Michelle drops her head, her eyes cast to the floor. “I saw it, and I panicked. I loved you, Peter. I still… A part of me still does. It likely always will. But you and I were just on two different pages. I don’t know if I even want to get married to anyone, ever. We’d talked about that before, I thought you’d remember. I think marriage is nothing more than-”

“A piece of paper and a social construct of moral obligation,” Peter finishes for her.

“Exactly.”

“Then why didn’t you just talk to me about that? We didn’t have to break up, you could have just told me that’s not what you wanted - that you were happy how we were. You know I would have respected that.”

“I know,” Michelle starts, her voice cracking. “I know it should have gone differently, but it didn’t. It’s not like it matters, now, anyway. You’ve got a soulmate, apparently.”

“I don’t even know them, MJ. I- I literally just met them three days ago. And now...Now I’m supposed to believe they’re the one that’s meant for me? Despite our history?” Peter pleads, motioning between them. “I don’t know them, Michelle, but I know you. And I love you. The universe dictating how I’m supposed to live just…It doesn’t sit right with me.”

“It seems the universe has been doing that for you long before now, Spidey,” Michelle smirks, nudging him with her elbow.

“And that’s another thing,” Peter says, standing and running a hand through his hair as he begins to pace. “During our…whatever it’s called- moment, I guess, they saw me in my gear. This person that I just met knows I’m Spider-Man, and I’m supposed to be okay with that?”

“Seeing your gear doesn’t mean it’s you.”

“I took my mask off at one point, so they saw my face. They know it’s me, they know it’s…” Peter trails off with a sigh and sits down again, before a thought crosses his mind, and his eyes widen. “Wait, wait wait wait- you said you saw it. What did you see? Did you see all that we did? Does everyone know, now?”

“Yeah, no, we didn’t see whatever you did. The video I saw was of you and this other person sitting at a cafe table, staring at each other with a blue…haze-type thing around you for a couple minutes,” Michelle says. “It was kinda creepy, actually. Neither of you were blinking.”

“So you didn’t…”

“No. I didn’t know you ‘saw’ anything until just now.”

“Oh thank God,” Peter sighs, relaxing his shoulders. “Doesn’t ease my worry that they’re out there, telling the world as we speak, but…It’s something.”

Michelle chews on the inside of her lip, curiosity getting the best of her as she asks, “So what did you see?”

Peter buries his head in his hands, muttering through his fingers. “You really want to know?”

“I asked, didn’t I?”

He smiles, breathing a laugh through his nose as he nods and looks up again. “Yeah, that you did.”

“So what happened?”

“Well, we were at the cafe. We work together, and it was my first day. Our boss invited me out for coffee with them after we closed, but she had to cancel last second. At some point, they'd accidentally knocked their drink off the table, so I caught it,” Peter begins.

“Naturally,” Michelle jokes, and Peter can’t help but smile that the conversation feels normal again, like it used to be. Albeit an awkward topic - but comfortable nonetheless.

“And then it was like time just…stopped. And I saw these visions of us, but it wasn’t from my own perspective. It was like watching a movie of what could be, or what will be, maybe, I guess.” Peter sighs. “The first one was of us walking in Central Park, and…and we kissed. The next one was when they saw my gear. I’d saved them from some of Fisk’s men and I pulled my mask off afterwards. We were both crying.” Peter sighs again, stalling before finishing the story. “And then…The next two were of me proposing, and then our wedding day.”

Michelle is quiet, but her heart is racing again, her breaths near shudders. Peter can tell she’s trying not to cry, and the thought alone is enough to bring him near tears, too.

“I’m sorry,” Peter mumbles.

“For what?”

“I don’t know, I… I don’t know what to do, M,” Peter says, his voice cracking on the words.

“Have you talked to…?” Michelle trails off.

“Y/n, and no, I haven’t yet. I kinda just…left, when it all happened. It was stupid of me, I know, but I panicked and I didn’t know what to say, so I left.”

“Sounds familiar,” Michelle says, wiping a tear as Peter whispers in agreement. Michelle leans over and lays her head on his shoulder, and he instinctively wraps his arm around her middle. They stay still like this for what feels like an hour before Michelle speaks again, her voice firm to mask her emotions. “Maybe…Maybe this is for the best.”

Peter cranes his neck to look down at her. “What is?”

“I was just thinking that maybe it was meant to be this way,” she says, sitting upright again, her focus straight forward on the window across the room. “Maybe we broke up just in time for you to meet the one you’re meant to be with. I mean, imagine how weird it would have been if we’d still been together when you met them, you know?”

“I don’t-”

“Yeah,” Michelle says, more to herself than to Peter. She stands, grabbing the towel she had been sitting on, and clutches the dry side to her body. “Yeah, I think this is what was meant to happen.”

“Michelle, I-”

Michelle places the towel down on the nearby table and heads back towards the door, putting her shoes back on as she continues speaking. “You can’t argue with destiny. You were meant to be Spider-Man, so the spider bit you. And now you’re meant to be with y/n, so the universe put you at that place, in that moment, to meet them.”

She finishes tying the second shoe and looks back up at Peter, tears threatening to fall from her eyes as she sees him. “It’s better this way,” she states. “And it’s going to work out exactly the way it’s meant to.”

“But what if I don’t want it to?” Peter asks, stepping towards her.

“I don’t think you really have a say in it, Peter.”

“Please don’t leave,” he pleads, grabbing her hand in his. “Please.”

Michelle squeezes his hand twice and looks back up at him, a thin smile across her face, and it’s at that moment he knows she’s made up her mind, and there’s no going back on it. It’s a look he’d seen many times over the last ten years - but one he never thought he’d see on her way out the door, to say goodbye for the last time.

“Tell May I said ‘hi,’ okay?”

Peter nods and squeezes his eyes shut, savoring the final moments with the woman he’s loved for the better part of a decade, and opens them again to look at her through blurry eyes.

“One more for the road?”

Michelle smiles sadly, nodding as she takes a final step closer. A tear works its way down Peter’s cheek, and she instinctively wipes it away, cradling his cheek as she does so. She pulls him in, and kisses him softly for the last time. She steps back, taking one last look at him as she opens the door and steps out into the hallway.

“Bye, Peter.”

“Bye, Michelle.”

It’s so rare that most people just live their lives assuming they’re not one of those "lucky ones," and instead carry on dating and marrying who they will.

And, that’s exactly what Peter had planned on doing with his own life...until Liz moved away his sophomore year of high school, and then MJ broke up with him just a few weeks back, the day before college graduation. Or, rather, the day before he was planning to propose to her. It wasn’t long after that, that he decided he was probably better off focusing more on his friendly neighborhood duties, and less on someone that would be in harm’s way if they got too close, anyway.

But this? Some celebrity that he, quite honestly, doesn’t care too much for, being one of the rare few to find their soulmate - and now they’re broadcasting it to the world? It feels like salt in the wound.

So, instead of focusing on it, he swings.

He catches criminals, helps the elderly, rescues a kitten. All in a day’s work. Tomorrow, he’ll be interviewing for a part-time gig at the local technology repair shop, and then it'll be back to usual. He knows the job is almost a guarantee, given his experience and education, but he also really needs this job.

After the break-up graduation, he moved back in with May - you know, just until he could find a place of his own. But, as luck would have it, her hours were cut. Peter, of course, then promised to do whatever it took to help out as much as he could, despite May’s protests that she could handle it on her own.

So, unless he completely fumbles the interview (which, given his track record for the past few job interviews he’s had lately, wouldn’t be too surprising), he knows the job is his. But that doesn’t mean the nerves aren’t bubbling away in his stomach anyway.

So instead, he swings.

-

“You’re sure I look okay?”

“Yes, Pete, you look fine,” May laughs, brushing a piece of lint off of Peter’s shoulder. “Try to relax, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m sorry. I’m just nervous.”

“You have no reason to be. They’d be lucky to have you,” May smiles.

“You said that about the last five places I’ve interviewed at, and look how those turned out,” Peter sighs. “I really need this job, May. ...Or any job, really.”

“Ya know, I still say you could stay home and focus all that energy on being Spider-Man," May says, poking Peter in the chest where his logo usually rests. "Don't put too much on your plate and wear yourself thin. You know I can handle the bills just fine on my own. A few hours less per week isn’t gonna change that.”

Peter says nothing and instead gives her a smile that doesn't quite meet his eyes, and a quick kiss on her temple, as he heads out the door.

"You've got this in the bag, Peter," May calls after him. "I just know it."

~*~*~

It's another regular Tuesday at work, and you're counting down the minutes until the day ends and you can go home again.

You've already filled every spare inch of the paper in front of you with doodles and fleeting thoughts. Your social media timelines haven’t updated in over an hour, despite checking them at least twice in that time. There are no projects to work on, no clients to return calls or emails with. The phone hasn't rung once your entire shift, and the door hasn't been opened since you walked in, five hours ago. There are only so many times you can pace around the makeshift lobby area in front of your check-in desk before you run a hole in the floor, and you're pretty sure you're at the point where one more lap would do it.

You're just about to call out to your manager, Monica, who is doing Heaven-knows-what in the back, since there's nothing to be worked on, when she has a similar thought and calls out to you, first.

"Hey y/n, what time is it?"

"Uh," you glance down at the computer monitor and sigh. "3:12. I take it that's too early to close up shop for the day, right?"

She laughs, walking over to you. "Afraid so. We've got an interview coming in, anyway. He should be here in a few minutes."

Your face scrunches up as if by reflex when you ask, "Are they sure they wanna work here? I didn't even realize we were hiring."

"We're not, yet, technically," Monica says, leaning back against the desk. "But with Jason on vacation and Reese on maternity leave, we need another tech here."

"I thought Reese wasn't planning to come back after leave?"

"She's not. Which is why we need a new repair tech now, rather than later," Monica laughs. "This guy should be good, anyway. His resume looked really solid. Graduated with his Master’s from MIT last month."

"All that money on a Master's degree, just to get a job to delete viruses off of the elderly’s computers all day for hardly $13 an hour." You shake your head and sigh. "Pity."

Monica shrugs her head to the side in disinterested agreement and heads back again, telling you to let her know when the interviewee arrives.

No sooner had you sat down and pulled out your phone to mindlessly scroll through any social media again, when the front door's bell jingles. Of course. Looking up, you're met with wide brown eyes and a lopsided smile.

"Uh, hello," the man says, offering a small wave. "I'm Peter. Parker. ...Peter Parker. I'm here for an interview with Monica?"

You nod, smiling back at his demeanor, and tell him she'll be out in a moment as you send Monica a text to inform her that he has arrived.

Monica replies, asking for your first impression, which you begin to type out as you look up at him, watching as he aimlessly wanders the room.

He's nervous, fidgeting a lot. Seems nice enough, though.

is he cute? lol

Shut up and get out here before the poor guy faints or something 😂

so he IS cute 🧐 I'll be out in a few

You roll your eyes and lock your phone to look up at Peter again, this time taking in his full appearance. His hair is slightly unkempt, a few stray curls making their way across his forehead, like he had tried to style it before arriving, but gave up halfway through. (He did.)

His constant fidgeting with his sleeves leads you to believe he's not used to slightly formal attire, and would rather be wearing literally anything else besides a button-down and slacks. (He would.)

And, you noticed, his nose is a little crooked, like he'd taken one too many hits to it, but didn't know when to stop doing whatever it was that led to him being hit in the first place. (A no-brainer.)

Overall, he's actually really cute, you think to yourself. Cute in an awkward sort of way, but cute nonetheless. The slanted smile he'd given you when he arrived was charming enough, and the freckles that dot his nose and cheeks only add to it. But his appearance didn't matter much, anyway, as he was interviewing for a Repair Technician position, which meant he would be in the back all day, while you were stuck up at the front. You'd likely never see him again, unless in passing, to begin with.

Doesn't hurt to look now, though.

It's then that Monica arrives at your desk, giving you a look with lifted eyebrows before she introduces herself to Peter, who immediately wipes his palm on his pants before reaching out to shake her hand. Again, cute. You shake the thought from your head with a small laugh through your nose as the two walk back to where Monica had come from, likely headed for the minuscule break room, for his interview.

Peter gives you another small smile and gently nods his head towards you as he passes, and for reasons unknown to you, you can't help but smile right back at him. There is a small portion of you that’s hoping maybe he doesn’t get hired, to save you from yourself before your thoughts of Peter being cute turn into a full-fledged crush. But, then again, there’s also the part of you that would give just about anything for someone else to talk to on slower days like today. So, you suppose Peter being easy on the eyes would just be an added bonus.

You unlock your phone again, opting to check the news this time. You figure if there is nothing going on in your friends’ lives, then at least maybe something was happening in the world around you, and whatever it is, it has to be more interesting than the silence you’re experiencing.

You flick past an article here and there about local crime and upcoming festivals and events, but one particular headline in the entertainment section catches your eye: another soulmate sighting.

That’s two announced within the last two days - weren’t soulmates supposed to be rarer than this?

You squint your eyes in confusion and read the article, sighing as you notice that nothing in the apparent “sighting” matches the stories you’ve read before of the moment the two soulmates meet, so you shrug it off and keep scrolling. It was probably just someone wanting to bandwagon off of the attention from the earlier announcement.

You had to admit, you’d always had a slight fascination with the idea of soulmates. Ever since you were a child, you, like many others, wondered if you were going to be one of the few who got to experience that magical moment, however unlikely it may be. As the years passed and you remained single, however, you decided, heck, you’d settle for witnessing someone else experiencing it for themselves, because it just sounded so beautiful.

Supposedly, when the two soulmates touch for the first time, a light blue aura-like glow encompasses the two of them. As for what happens between the two themselves, no one really knows what is supposed to happen, because it’s been different for everyone. There have been some who saw colors they’ve never seen before after that moment, some who instantly had a matching marking appear on their skin in the spot where they touched, some who gained an ability to feel what the other was feeling, and so on. The only thing to remain consistent throughout every story has been the blue glow that surrounds the two.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by the sound of Monica and Peter’s chatter growing increasingly louder as they approach the front of the building. You put your phone down and slightly spin your chair to glance behind you, briefly meeting Peter’s eyes. Heat rises to the apples of your cheeks as he laughs at whatever Monica is saying, and you internally curse yourself for letting him get to you this easily already.

“Alright, Mr. Parker,” Monica says, reaching a hand out to shake Peter’s. “I’ll see you bright and early Thursday morning for your orientation, okay?”

“Absolutely,” Peter grins, shaking Monica’s hand probably a little too enthusiastically. “Thank you so much again, Ms. Nichols. I truly appreciate the opportunity.”

Peter smiles down at you, whispering a soft “bye” under his breath as he exits. You continue to watch him from the front windows as he practically skips down the sidewalk, taking his phone out of his pocket and presumably calling someone to share the good news. You smile and shake your head, turning to the side to be met with Monica’s knowing stare.

“So you do think he’s cute.”

“Oh, shut it, will you?”

-----

You’re just closing out of your open tab on the computer when Monica appears beside you.

“So, I clearly made a good decision to hire him, right?” She teases, her smile widening in time with your eyes.

“Would you stop?” you groan, rolling your head back. “He’s going to hear you.”

“Would that be such a bad thing? You seem to get along well enough, and we both know you think he’s cu-”

“Monica!” You glare, standing up and taking her a few steps further away by the arm. “Stop. Please. I am quite honestly begging you to stop before he hears you.”

Monica laughs, raising her hands in resignation. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop. But I overheard the two of you talking earlier. All day, actually.” She rolls her eyes, to which you shrug. “But I specifically heard when you were talking about that coffee place down the street. I think you should ask him out for a drink or something.”

“I don’t know,” you start, when Peter walks up to the two of you.

“Sorry to interrupt, ladies, but is there anything else you’d like me to do today?”

Monica shakes her head, “No, that’s alright, Peter, thank you.” Her face shifts into a mischievous smirk before she continues. “But, actually, y/n and I were just thinking about heading over to the cafe down the street to grab a drink, if you wanted to join us?”

You’re thankful you’re mostly facing away from Peter as your eyes widen, your jaw falling slack as you mouth “are you serious?” to her, which she ignores.

“Oh- really? Uh, yeah, sure, that actually sounds great,” Peter says, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he rocks back on his heels. “I could definitely use the caffeine, if it’s not an intrusion, of course.”

“No intrusion at all,” Monica says, turning her head to face you with a smirk. “Right, y/n?”

You turn to fully face Peter, a strained smile on your face. “Right. You’re more than welcome to join us.”

“That’s great!” Peter smiles. “Let me just grab my jacket- I’ll, uh- I’ll be right back.”

The second Peter is out of earshot, you turn back to face Monica, the forced smile on your face dropping instantly.

“Are you out of your mind?”

“Jury’s still out on it.” Monica shrugs up one shoulder as she takes her phone out of her purse with her other hand. “I think I’m actually doing you a favor here, y/n. When was the last time you went out to do anything with anyone?”

You scowl, your mouth open and ready to defend yourself, but your mind blanks. She’s right. The last time you’d gone out for any sort of social event was your coworker Reese’s baby shower, two months ago. You’d mostly kept to yourself lately, opting to spend nights in at your apartment, binging your favorite shows with all of your favorite snacks, rather than going out and socializing with people that you were likely only friends with by proximity, anyway.

Monica finishes typing whatever message she’s sending on her phone and looks back up at you as she locks it, reaching a finger up to shut your still-slack jaw. “That’s what I thought.”

It’s then that Peter comes back, a small smile on his face and his cheeks flushed a nice shade of red, and you’re just hoping with everything inside of you that he didn’t hear any of the conversation.

“Oh, hey, Peter,” Monica starts speaking with an apologetic tone, and you, with a roll of your eyes, can guess with utmost certainty what’s coming next. “I got a text from a friend just now, and they need me to come over right away, so it looks like it’s just gonna be the two of you, if that’s alright?”

You’re ready to scream at this point, but Peter doesn’t look remotely phased.

“Yeah yeah, that’s totally fine with me, so long as it is with you?” Peter asks, looking at you with lifted brows of apprehension.

“Totally fine,” you echo. You know Monica can hear the edge to your tone, but you’re thankful Peter doesn’t seem to notice. “Shall we?”

-

Your fingers are twitching at your side as you wait for your drink to be made. You’re resisting the urge to grab your phone and text Monica with a very lengthy message on how uncomfortable she’s made you, and the situation, by forcing the two of you to be together, alone, on such short notice. You don’t, ultimately because you don’t want to appear rude by being on your phone the entire time you’re with someone, especially someone you quite enjoy the company of, but you still worry that there’s a slightly uncomfortable air between you and Peter as both of you are struggling to form words and strike conversation.

Luckily for you, your nerves are put at ease when the barista calls out your name and sets your drink on the counter, Peter’s having arrived moments ago. With both of you having your drinks, there’s no awkward ‘waiting around’ time any longer, so you can finally sit and hopefully drum up a topic to talk about. You turn to face Peter and ask if he’d like to sit at one of the outdoor tables. He nods, stammering out a “yeah, sure” as you both head for the front door. You’re hoping that being able to people-watch a little easier by being outdoors might help calm your nerves, but Peter just looks happy to be there to begin with.

You inhale, taking all of your insecurities in with the fresh air, and exhale with a smile, resigning your nerves for another day. He’s just your coworker, afterall, and maybe Monica is right - maybe this could be good for you, to begin a friendship with someone that you seemingly have a lot in common with already. Of course, you’d never tell her that, but the thought is comforting, at least.

The two of you sit down at one of the tables furthest from the door, not wanting to be bothered by the people going in and out, and laugh a little awkwardly at each other as you sip your drinks.

“So…” Peter begins. “What made you want to work at a tech repair place?”

“The money,” you deadpan, and Peter laughs, which involuntarily makes you smile, too. “No, I’m serious. I really needed a job and they were hiring, so I figured, why not? The commute isn’t bad for me and the pay is decent enough, so, you know…” You shrug off the remainder of your sentence. “What about you? Monica said you have your Master’s? So what gives?”

“Same as you, actually. I needed a job. I got…” Peter trails off with a sigh and takes a drink. “I had a lot of stuff happen right around graduation and I had to move back in with my aunt. I don’t want to be a freeloader, so I just...started applying at places. As it turns out, there is such a thing as being too qualified, so most places just...didn’t work out for me.”

“A humble brag, nice,” you laugh, and Peter does too. You smile sympathetically at him, nodding. “But no, that makes sense. That’s sweet of you to want to help out like that. Most people I know would just take the free place to live and stay there until they got kicked out. It’s good that you want more for yourself.”

“I do,” Peter agrees. “Not only for myself and my aunt, but- and this is gonna sound really cheesy, I know, so please don’t laugh- but I want better for the city, too.” Peter looks out at the surrounding buildings, the left corner of his mouth twitching into a small smile. “Eventually, I’d like to have a job that does a lot of good for the world, you know?”

You can’t lie to yourself, and you admit your heart swells a little at his comment. It’s endearing to see someone with genuine hope for a better world, starting right in his own neighborhood. Cheesy as it may be, you still find it cute. You find Peter cute. And it seems with every word that passes his lips, you find yourself feeling a pull towards him that you can’t quite explain.

You know you’re getting caught up in your thoughts, and your brain is practically begging you to say something in response so he doesn’t feel as embarrassed as he looks like he feels, but you’re a little too distracted to muster anything more than a simple, “yeah.”

And it’s you being distracted and too far in your own head that is exactly why you don’t realize you’ve knocked your entire drink off of the table.

“Oh!” You exclaim, reaching to grab it as it tips towards the edge, and you consider yourself lucky that Peter has the same idea, his reflexes surprisingly fast to grab the cup at the same time. Peter seemingly has a better handle on it than you do, so you look up, meeting his eyes with a thankful smile as he hands the cup back to you.

Your hands brush at that moment, and time stops.

You’re faintly aware of the sound of glass shattering a moment later, which you presume is your glass making contact with the concrete below you, but the sound feels muted, far off, and you find yourself unable to move. Everything feels significantly slowed down, if not stopped altogether, as your smile slowly relaxes into your neutral resting face. Your eyes are still locked with Peter’s, and your heart feels like it’s gearing up to beat its way directly out of your chest any second now. In a moment, the Peter that’s in front of you fades from view, your vision hazing over as a scene develops in front of you, instead.

You see yourself from an outside perspective, your hand being held by Peter’s as you walk down a path in Central Park at night. You’re laughing at something, and Peter is looking at you like you’ve painted the stars in the sky above. He turns to you, stilling your movement, and says something that brings a bright smile to your face. You nod, and a moment later, he kisses you.

The scene fades as quickly as it began into another one, in which you, again, see yourself from an outside perspective. It’s raining, and you’re underneath an overpass, crying, being held back at the chest by a man with a gun to your head, with several men encircled around you, guns drawn and aimed at respective points surrounding the area. The man holding you yells something towards the sky, and you squeeze your eyes shut, your lips pinched together, with more tears cascading down your face.

In a moment, the gun to your head is taken away. You open your eyes again after the loss of contact and see several webs coming down from the rafters above, taking each of the men’s guns away, one after another. It’s then that Spider-Man drops down before you, saying something to you that you can’t hear through the vision, and you nod and head off towards a nearby column, taking cover.

Spider-Man begins fighting with the men, eventually knocking all of them unconscious, as you watch, paralyzed in fear. When the last man goes down, Spider-Man rushes over to you, grabbing your face with his gloved hands and presumably speaking to you as you nod rapidly, still crying, and collapse into his chest. He reaches a hand up to his face, removes his mask, and kisses the top of your head. You look up, and see Peter looking back at you, tears staining his cheeks.

The scene fades once again, and quickly cuts into a new one of you, laughing through happy tears this time, as you nod, your mouth miming the word “yes” several times as Peter rises from his knee, places a ring on your finger, and kisses you deeply.

The scene fades for a final time, as you watch on for a moment of your wedding day, Peter’s hand at the small of your back as he dips his head down to kiss your cheek and whisper something that makes you laugh into your ear. There are people surrounding you both, several that you don’t recognize, celebratory drinks in hand being raised towards the ceiling, alongside your own loved ones, including Monica and a few others. You’re happy, smiling brightly, and the scene fades to black.

The Peter in front of you returns to view with a faint blue glow surrounding him that dissolves into the light as your eyes adjust. There are people standing all around you, staring, some with mouths agape, others smiling, and almost instantly, a few begin cheering.

You look back to Peter, whose eyes have nearly bulged out of their sockets, as he stands, shaking his head frantically and muttering “no” under his breath over and over.

You’re speechless. And really, what can you say in a moment like this, when you went from secretly admiring your coworker, whom you just met, one moment, to realizing that he is your soulmate the next? Or that you even have a soulmate to begin with? Your mind is racing with questions - questions you know Peter doesn’t have an answer to, but you’re ready to ask him, anyway, when the memory of one of the moments you saw hits you.

Peter.

Peter Parker is Spider-Man.

And not only do you know that, but Peter now knows you know that.

The crowd around you has mostly dispersed, with a few opting to stand by to continue to witness the moment two soulmates have connected, but one look from you and they sheepishly shrink away. An employee comes out of the shop with a broom to clean the shattered remnants of your mug and smiles at you, but you can’t even find the ability to thank her for cleaning up the mess you made. You’re not even sure how much time has passed since the cup fell to begin with, but it feels like a lifetime.

Your heart is pounding, your hands are shaking, and you’re still speechless. Peter, on the other hand, is downright panicking. His hands are in his hair, gripping the tufts of curls so tightly that his knuckles are white, and he’s said the word “no” so many times, it doesn’t sound like a real word anymore.

You stand, slowly, as your knees feel weak, and say his name. He turns, facing you, and shakes his head, tears brimming his eyes.

“I- I’m sorry, y/n. I can’t. I have to go, I-- I can’t do this. I can’t. I’m sorry.”