summary. an unfortunate turn of events forces peter parker to reveal his biggest secret to you, just not in the way he wished. the weight of his presence and the power it entails, ends up turning your life upside down for good and bad.
🏷️ tags. opposites attract trope. reader has power but is not a hero (nor a villain) sort of an enemies to lovers. morally grey characters. SNS AND WRITTEN FIC. i made one character named daniel to be readers best friend, (the faceclaim is yeonjun from txt)
warnings. unhealthy coping mechanisms. complicated family dynamics. some talks about depression. violence. reader smokes occasionally. loss of loved ones. more to be added!
— taglist open! send me an ask or a comment to be added.
warnings. sns post with a written part. some cussing. one mention of puking, reader smokes a cig. nothing else really.
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“…Fucking finally.” You exhale the grey smoke through your nose and a little bit through the mouth. The nicotine burns momentarily then relaxes you.
You don’t have much of a habit to smoke but occasionally, when things get to your head too fast, you dash to the rooftop and smoke one cigarette or maybe two. Today is one of those days.
After a less than pleasant call with your father, your world seems to spin for a few seconds before you find yourself outside, sitting by the edge and looking down. You have a lot to think about but little to no time to do so. Soon you will be forced to begin getting ready for work. Forty minutes max before you have to and the idea doesn’t make you any happier.
You close your eyes, relaxing before the sound of some horns and screams catch your attention. It appears like there is some sort of ruckus on the street and although that does peak your interest, the drive to go downstairs isn’t really enough to move you. Sitting down more comfortably, you bring the cigarette to your lips and hear some applause in the background, breaking your peace again.
Your phone buzzes in the back pocket of your jeans and you groan, already knowing who is trying to contact you again. You take it out, seeing a notification from your father and just as you are about to unlock your device, you catch the Spiderman swinging across the buildings near you.
Instinctively, you open the chat with your friend Ned and text something quick until the hero lands on your rooftop.
“Oh my…holy shit!”
A groan pierces the air and the arachnid friend leans down to catch his breath before noticing you and jumping a few steps back.
“I…I’m not a threat, dude. It’s okay.”
“No, no you don’t understand,” Spiderman interrupts. “I…hold on, just, just give me a moment.” He winces and you raise up from your place, getting slowly closer.
“You look pretty hurt, Spiderman.”
“I’m- I’m fine. As good as I can be.”
“Want me to be honest?” You don’t wait for him to reply. “You look like someone threw a bus at you or something, it’s pretty bad. Want me to help you with those wounds?”
“No! I mean, no, I can’t…It’s okay. I said I’m fine, and I’m super fine, really.”
“If this is about the identity thing, you can keep the mask on. I don’t care. I just know all that red I’m seeing is actually not a part of your suit.”
“Seriously, I can handle it.” Spiderman tries to take a step back but nearly trips. You rush to grab him and slide an arm of his over your shoulders.
“Come on, dude. I swear I won't bite, let me help you.”
He groans but caves in, leaning on you as you two walk to the entrance of the rooftop. The cigarette gets passed by and forgotten, just like the piles of trash and some boxes someone left there a while ago.
You carefully get him downstairs, passing by your neighbor’s door, until you reach the level of your home, opening the unlocked entrance.
Your house is as tidy as it could be on a Wednesday afternoon. Some books are scattered around the coffee table, a jacket and a hoodie are discarded on your couch.Light music plays in the background and the tv is up and running fully silenced. Other than that, the house is intact and mostly okay, you aren’t much around to mess with the whole place anyways, between work and your studies, you only get to truly be at home on your only free day which is usually on Saturdays.
“Here, sit down.” You instruct the man to the couch, lightly letting him go until he plops on the comforting furniture, getting swallowed between the many little blankets and plushies you have. He exhales a heavy breath and begins to finally scan the place, letting the TV catch his attention as images of him fighting a villain display on the screen.
You rush to your bathroom, picking up the first aid kit you have and go back to the couch, sitting on the coffee table.
“Who attacked you? A big cat?” You laugh out as Spiderman unzips part of his suit, letting it fall down and exposing his chest. There are tiny cuts and some badly beaten parts of his body already showing signs of turning purple and greenish.
“Do you know what you are doing?” Spiderman interjects, answering your rhetoric question with a more inquisitive one. You put some drops of alcohol on a piece of cotton before beginning to dab over the nearest scar with delicacy.
“One of my brothers fights for sport, I’m too used to disinfecting scars.” You announce, not offended at all by his previous tone. You understand he must be annoyed by having to require the help of some commoner right now. He probably has bigger fishes to fry, but you also know he’d not be able to do much if he is covered in wounds rubbing against his suit.
If you can be of help, you will be.
“I didn’t know you had siblings.” He murmurs and quickly counter attacks himself with a question to distract you from the suspicious comment. You notice it but let it pass by. How would he know anyway? This is the first time you two interact, unless he thinks you are some other familiar person to him. “Your brother is a box fighter?”
“Sorta, sorta not…” You smile a little and bite lightly on the tip of your tongue, concentrated over his scars. “I did sign him up for some classes and he is doing well, the thing is he can’t help but get into fights at school too. You know, he has some sort of hero mentality, he sees someone getting picked on, suffering somehow, and he throws a punch to solve it. Pretty punk of him to stand up for others, to be honest, but also a big problem — sorry,” you pause. “I’m talking too much.”
“No, it is…It is fine.” You notice the man relax a little and you cannot help but look at his masked eyes with content. A few screams pierce through the air and a wave of noise comes from downstairs, alerting you two.
Spiderman quickly jumps from the couch and rushes to the window, looking down.
“I need to go.”
“You can’t leave with these scars —.”
“People need me, I have to. Thank you for cleaning my scars!”
“Wait, wait! Spiderman!” You manage to grab onto his wrist and momentarily have him still. “Give me your hand.”
“What do you —.”
“Just take off that part of your suit, I need to touch your skin.”
“What the —.”
“Just do it!” You finally yell and he obeys, reluctantly.
You press your palm against his, closing your eyes for a second, and a little halo of light emerges between your touched skin. Sparks of purple, pink and white crawl from the point you connect with Spiderman under his suit, illuminating him from the inside and he separates, surprised. He observes how he lights up and a warm feeling takes over him, dissipating his growing nerves and panic over whatever is happening outside.
“What the actual fuck?” He whispers and the lights fade, leaving a sense of calmness in his heart. His body no longer hurts anymore and whatever scars were bothering under his skin are non-existent now, he is sure of that, he can feel it. He is healed. “What did you just —.”
“Don’t.” You cut him off. “I couldn’t let you go and save the day all wounded.”
“You have powers.” He states.
“No, baby, you totally hallucinated — yes I have powers. Now you can go save the day, man.”
“You have powers,” he repeats, stunned.
“You can leave me a five star review for my service, yes.”
“You have —.”
“My god! Yes, Spiderman. I have powers, now go do your hero gimmick. If you are so weirded out about it you can ask me about it later. Now go!”
Spiderman finally nods, rushing to the window and opening it. He shoots a web outside and before swinging out, he mutters a small ‘thank you’ to which you nod, giving him a thumbs up before seeing him go.
summary. an unfortunate turn of events forces peter parker to reveal his biggest secret to you, just not in the way he wished. the weight of his presence and the power it entails, ends up turning your life upside down for good and bad.
YOU ARE READING A TEASER! Opposites attrack trope. reader has powers but she is not a hero (nor a villain). morally grey characters. sns and written fanfic. warnings tba.
A / N : if this flops it never happened :)
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EXCERPT FROM A CHAPTER : THE FALL OUT.
"You've been lying to me..." You breathe out once Peter finds himself conscious enough to understand the predicament he is in.
The dimness of the lights doesn't mask the anger building up in your eyes like a fire ready to burn down everything on its path. He understands, truly, how you feel, or at least he thinks so. You two have formed a bond you considered precious and he had taken your trust for granted. You shared a secret important to you with him and he had kept his true identity a mystery. The imbalance of comfortability was off, perhaps completely screwed.
"Listen, it's more complicated than that...I," he stutters, regaining his composure and rising up from the warm sheets. There are shots of webs circling the bed, plaguing the corners of a room he had never been in, over the ceiling and some desk full of books. It looks like a nest, he had made a nest in a room of yours.
It couldn't get more obvious than that, really, but still he prayed he could make an explanation out of this.
"You come to my home sweating, nuts, screaming about a music volume you never cared about before —."
"I'm sorry these headaches have been killing me but I swear —."
"I was not finished." You cut him off just like he cut you off previously. "If I'm not finished you don't get to talk because you came here, all fucked up, scaring the living shit out of me and somehow you start screaming and pushing past me and my friends until you turned off the music? When I go to approach you, stop you, see what the fuck is going on with you, your eyes are black. They are pitch black, Peter. It's like you are possessed. I get you in my room and you just...you start trashing everything and throwing fucking webs everywhere until you pass out."
Peter presses his lips together, finally making sense of his surroundings. The art decorations across the walls and the band posters, the vanity in a corner barely lit by a night stand light at his left, the entrance to your closet, opened, the many things he had covered in webs while completely out of his mind.
What was so wrong with him?
"You pass out for nearly a day and I have to make excuses, you know? Because I had to lock you here while you were going nuts and usher everyone home. And I'm worried sick because you don't wake up at all but I know you are breathing and I can't call anyone because guess what? You shot webs out of your damn wrists, Peter, and that can only mean one thing..."
"I'm sorry." He finally dares to speak, with shame, with guilt, with a pinch of anger.
You don't understand, of course you don't. He doesn't blame you for that but he wishes you would, he thought, foolishly, if it ever happened that he had to absolutely tell you about his identity, you would understand but you don't.
