This account is purely for Marvel (MCU) related posts. Then again, it is going to be 95% about Loki, so be prepared for that. XD. My main account is @imaginationcreationer.
Pairing(s) - Tom!Peter, Andrew!Peter, Tobey!Peter x Reader
Word Count - 5.6k
Summary - In every universe you are the one person Peter Parker will always love more than anything; unfortunately, he always realizes it too late. Now that they've been granted a second chance none of them are willing to miss out on finally making things right.
name key: tom!peter = peter ; andrew!peter = parker ; tobey!peter = pete
When they say ignorance is bliss, they aren’t wrong.
There is a certain beauty that comes from a state of obliviousness, a false contentment that can never quite be achieved with the truth. Through a veil of ignorance you can effectively blind yourself from the less than desirable parts of life, pretending that those around you are nothing less than perfect.
And, while the rose-colored glasses granted by obliviousness can certainly make life more alluring, ignorance is never best. Furthermore, perfection—while extremely coveted—doesn’t truly exist. And no matter how hard you try to escape the truth, no matter how hard you fight to stay within that realm of false content, it will always come back to bite you in the ass.
Eventually, whether we like it or not, we are all forced to decide whether or not we can accept something—someone—in their entirety. Harsh truths and all.
“I wish we were meeting under better circumstances.”
There was always this air of stoicism to Dr. Strange, one that was both enticing and intimidating. I had met a lot of important men throughout my lifetime, the most notable being Iron Man himself, but it was always Dr. Strange that left me in a state of awe.
“Without the time stone I’m limited on what answers I can offer,” as he spoke I wondered if his stiff persona was in-fact just situational, a consequence of only ever meeting him in life-or-death scenarios, “but I used what I had at my disposal to at least try and find some answers.”
His gaze dragged along each and every one of us as he spoke, standing directly in front of us as if he were delivering a speech. Which, to be fair, it gave a similar feeling to a school assembly. The way he stood before us with nearly perfect posture, a hand behind his back, and an overwhelming sense of authority.
The location didn’t help make it feel any more casual, either. He had asked Wong to gather us into a rather dusty room in the Sanctum, one filled to the brim with artifacts and old books. Most of it looked like a bunch of junk, however I had a feeling that most of this junk was a lot more dangerous than it appeared.
“I started with a memory probe, an attempt to try and comb through my own memories of what I saw when using the time stone previously.” Strange began, his face contorting in what I could only assume was confusion. “I was able to more carefully observe the realities the stone showed me, to try and find other commonalities within them, any sort of clue that might indicate why you are such a constant fixture within the multiverse.”
None of us spoke as he paused, letting the information sink in while simultaneously biting our tongues to prevent any questions from sneaking out.
“After the probe I decided to use the Eye of Agamotto while questioning the other Peter’s. It allowed me to ensure they were telling the truth about their worlds, as well as give me the ability to witness their realities; to compare them to the ones the stone showed me.”
Parker shifted beside me, awkwardly moving his weight from one foot to another. Out of all of us, he seemed the most uncomfortable, which was truthfully quite a feat given the situation we were in. I didn’t bother questioning why, aware that there was no way to know right now, and so instead I let the back of my hand discreetly bump against his, gaining his attention long enough to offer a reassuring smile. It didn’t do much to quell his anxiety, but it got him to stop fidgeting, his attention now centered on me instead of Strange.
“The multiverse is tricky—and dangerous. And your role in it…” Strange trailed off, trying to find the right words. In the silence I began to wonder if any of them could hear my heart thudding against my chest. “Is interesting. To say the least.”
“What did you find out?” Peter asked the question that had been stuck in my throat, his tone more even than it had been since May passed. He didn’t dare take an attitude with Dr. Strange, more than intelligent enough to realize that the sorcerer wouldn’t give him the same pass that the rest of us did. “With the probe? And the eye?”
Dr. Strange never even glanced in Peter’s direction, still focused on me as he answered. I found myself sweating under the weight of his stare, nervously trying to wipe my palms against my jeans.
“I’m sure Peter already explained to you the full extent of the multiverse, just how expansive it truly is. The other Peter Parker’s that were brought here serve as a good example of how the multiverse works,” he began, running through information I had already been given, “they share a name, a vigilante identity, even family members. But they aren’t the same person, each of them with their own tells that let you know they aren’t of this world. You, however, have none. Every difference between you in this world and you in another is so miniscule that there are essentially no true differences at all.”
“But we already know that she was a constant in the multiverse.” Pete interjected, earning an agitated look from Dr. Strange at his interruption. “What we need you to tell us is what that means.”
“Well if you would have waited a moment I was about to get to that.” I almost swore that Strange rolled his eyes at Pete, though the action was too quick for me to be certain of it. “You’re not just a constant. After comparing some of the timelines I started to wonder if you were a nexus-being, someone capable of causing drastic change to the timelines, but even that doesn’t quite fit.”
A sympathetic look, one that had my stomach twisting. “You defy every known law of the multiverse. By just existing, completely the same in every world, you bend every rule. On top of that, it’s as if in every timeline you begin to forcefully change the narrative. Rewrite destiny, so to speak.” Another flash of remorse. “And it seems that the universe always finds a way to punish you for that.”
It was Parker’s turn to comfort me, although his attempt was much less discreet than mine. His fingers intertwined with my own as he tightly squeezed my hand. The action didn’t go unnoticed by Peter, but for once he decided to keep quiet about it.
“Mr. Strange?” Parker was the one to speak up this time, trying to take a more polite approach than Pete had.
“Doctor.”
“Dr. Strange, sir.” Parker hurried to correct himself, “What do you mean by that? How does she try to rewrite destiny?”
“Well, in layman’s terms, the universe loves a good plan.” Strange mused, “All of us have a path to follow—people we are supposed to meet, jobs we are supposed to get, misfortunes we have to face. It’s like how you—Peter Parker—almost always become Spider-Man in every version of the universe. Some things are just meant to happen. Other things, like y/n, aren’t meant to happen at all.”
My brows snapped together, confusion washing over my face. “What?”
The word left my mouth without permission, and I almost wished that I could take it back now that I realized I had made myself an active part of the conversation by speaking.
“You’re an anomaly. An accident. A blip that somehow bleeds over into every single timeline. Constants are already not supposed to exist in the multiverse, it’s mathematically improbable. But, more than that, you’re capable of altering the course of events, things the universe set into motion millennia ago, without even intending to.” Strange frowned a bit, suddenly looking a little more distant than before, as if he were physically here but mentally somewhere very far away. “More than a constant, more than a nexus, more than anything I’ve ever seen.”
“Wait.” I shook my head, too upset to even notice Parker squeezing my hand tighter. “So I’m not even supposed to exist?”
“Precisely.”
“Then why am I here?” I asked, fairly certain I wouldn’t like the answer, regardless of what it was.
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” Strange answered, the hand he had hidden behind his back moving forward to reveal a golden artifact. “When I use the Eye to look into anyone else's past, I only see their past. When I use it on you, however, it’s as if I’m able to see the past of every version that’s ever lived. Like you’re carrying the memories of not only your own life—your current life—but every life you ever lived; past, present, and future.”
Pete took a step forward, always quick to defend me. “Kind of an invasion of privacy to do that without permission, dontcha think?”
All of us looked towards him, at the way a hand was already hovering just a few inches from his body, ready to shove me behind him if anyone so much as made a single move towards me. It made me think of what Peter said, of how comfortable I had gotten with the other two. How comfortable they had gotten with me. He was so willing to defend me without question, without regard for his own safety.
I wasn’t sure how to feel about it.
“Best to do it when her guard is down.” Strange noted, not bothering to react to Pete’s sour tone. “To have managed to embed herself so deeply in the multiverse… It wouldn’t be unusual if she had some sort of power. If she knew I was using the Eye on her she could have shielded her psyche, perhaps even unintentionally.”
“Why are you talking about me like I’m an enemy?” Another question I felt I shouldn’t have asked, another one I wished to take back.
Strange only gave me an odd smile, or perhaps sneer would be a more fitting descriptor of the look. “Best to play it safe when the multiverse is at risk, don’t you think?”
I didn’t respond, too dumbfounded to speak. Was that a possibility? So many times now I have been forced to consider my role in the multiverse, all of the ways that I was potentially at risk because of it. And now, to be told that perhaps I was a risk to it? It was hard to take in.
“When we talked before,” Peter cleared the silence, perhaps only because he noticed that I was much too scared to speak again, “you made it out like her existence was tied to other things, or other people. What was that about?”
“Well, it seems those ties are the multiverse's way of defending itself against her. A means of elimination.”
Pete took another step closer to me, Parker clasped my hand tighter, and Peter pressed further.
“Elimination?”
“In every timeline I saw—including theirs—” he pointed in the direction of Pete and Parker as he spoke, “y/n finds you. Or a version of you, at least. As if your very existences are interwoven. Truth be told, I don’t have enough information to even fully understand it myself, but what we know is this: the multiverse doesn’t seem to want y/n to exist, and in every world, for whatever reason, she finds Peter Parker. And you are a weakness the multiverse will always exploit, one that will always be her demise.”
Pete’s story crossed my mind, almost as if images from that very night were replaying in my head—it was a moment I wasn’t physically there for, yet it was as if it lived inside my subconscious. Pete hadn’t been my demise though, had he? He wasn’t the one to throw me off the bridge, wasn’t the one that meant to kill me.
“Why would I look for Peter?”
Strange shifted his attention from Peter to me as I continued.
“You said that in every world I find him. Why? Why are we tied to each other? I get what you’re saying about the multiverse and that for some reason I’m not supposed to exist—or at least I think I do—but how does he fit into this? Why does he have to be my demise?”
It was likely the first and last time that I ever had such an attitude when speaking to a literal sorcerer that far outpowers me, but in the moment it felt as if the attitude were justified.
“I don’t know.” Such a simple and unsatisfying answer. “All I know is that in every reality I saw, you found Spider-Man. And in every known reality, Spider-Man is the one that leads you to your death, the one that’s always there when you take your last breath. And so why you keep seeking him out is beyond me.”
Strange seemed to acknowledge that his answer did little to make me feel better, little to make me understand any of the absolute bullshit pouring from his mouth. It urged him to continue. “In a perfect world, perhaps one where your existence was intentional, maybe you were meant to find him. There is limited research on the topic of soulmates, but then again there is just as little known research on the multiverse. Regardless of any of that though, because of whatever you are—whatever threat you pose to the multiverse—meeting Peter Parker no longer does anything but sign your death sentence.”
My train of thought got caught on the word soulmates, playing on a loop in my brain. Soulmates, soulmates, soulmates.
No.
“And what about the Goblin?” I forced myself to talk, forced myself to ignore the screaming in my head. “Does any of this explain why he cares so much about finding me? Can it help us stop him? Or any of the other villains?”
Strange sighed, still clutching the Eye in his palm. “This man, Norman Osborn, is just as complicated as everything else we discussed. It’s possible that he’s just a strange old man with a vendetta. But, in both of the other Peter’s universes and several of the realities I saw, an Osborn was involved in your death. I already looked into it, and neither him nor his son exist in this world. Meaning that we shouldn’t rule out the possibility that all of this—this entire disaster of a spell—wasn’t just a way for the multiverse to try and eliminate you again.”
“Does that mean it’s possible…” Peter spoke slowly, and my heart broke as I saw the guilt overwhelming him. “That if we hadn’t done the spell… If we hadn’t given the others a way into this world… That y/n wouldn’t have died in this universe?”
“Maybe.” I could tell that Strange didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to confirm the possibility that Peter’s attempt at right-ing things might actually be the reason I die in this world. “Either way, it doesn’t matter now. We don’t know enough about what you are to the multiverse to use you to stop the villains. But what we do know is that it would be best for you to be far away from here. From Peter.” He glanced at the three of them. “All of them.”
My heart stopped. My knees locked. My breathing stopped.
“I can’t leave them.” More words spilled from my mouth without permission, coming out as more of a desperate plea than a declaration. “I can help. I’ve always helped Peter, no matter what. I won’t just stop now.”
I think Dr. Strange had expected my answer, and I wondered if he had encountered any similar reactions when looking through the various realities I existed in. Was I always this protestant? This unwilling to leave him? I wasn’t even sure which him I was most scared to leave at this point.
“Do whatever you like,” He spoke softly, a bit of sympathy shining through, even in his harsher last words before exiting the room and leaving us to ourselves, “it’s your funeral.”
Silence fell over all of us as the door shut behind him, no one willing to make the first move. No one was willing to speak as we all tried to grapple with what he had told us. He had offered us so much information, and yet none of it did anything but create more answers.
Out of everything that was said though—all the talk of potential power, the multiverses apparent permanent hit on my life, and even soulmates—one thing hit the hardest.
I wasn’t supposed to exist.
Without so much as a single warning I pulled my hand from Parker’s grip, darting towards the same door that Dr. Strange had disappeared behind just moments before. I could only hope I’d make it back to the room we had been staying in before I puked.
Tony Stark was a brilliant man, one that I never got the privilege of knowing very well. Nonetheless, I felt as though I would be permanently indebted to him for the way he helped Peter, taking him under his wing and trying to keep his head on straight as he figured out how to carry the weight of being Spider-Man.
He kept my best friend alive, tried to make sure that if nothing else, Peter stayed true to himself. After Mr. Stark died, I wondered if I would ever have the opportunity to repay that debt. To properly thank him for everything he did for Peter, and subsequently me.
I still wasn’t certain that I would be able to repay him now that he was gone, fearful that I had lost out on that opportunity for good now, but I had learned that even in death Mr. Stark was somehow finding ways to assist us; to keep us alive.
After all, brilliant men tend to live brilliant lifestyles. The lavish life that most of us will never experience. Despite the fact that Mr. Stark and I had a limited relationship, Peter was the son he never had. And, even in death, Mr. Stark had plans in place to keep him safe—to keep everyone Peter loved safe.
Happy had called about an hour after Dr. Strange had spoke to us, letting Peter know that Mr. Stark did in fact have a safehouse that was located in Queens—an odd place for an uber wealthy man to buy property. But, ultimately, the condominium was never bought for him. Happy informed Peter that it had been bought for him, for both life-or-death purposes as well as bachelor reasons. The indication that came with the latter had Peter’s face turn as bright as a tomato.
I knew now—as I stood in the living space of the condo, admiring the large windows overlooking the city—that I would never be able to repay Mr. Stark. Though, I would try my best anyway, by trying to take on the role he once filled.
Protecting Peter.
“This seems a bit much for a safehouse, yeah?” Parker snapped me out of my own head, standing just a few steps behind me, joining me in staring out of the massive windows.
I shrugged a bit, smiling a bit at the thought of Mr. Stark. “For the average person, yes. For Tony Stark? Not at all.”
Parker took a moment before responding, taking a glance around the rest of the room. Above a sizable fireplace was an equally sizable portrait of Tony, clad in his suit. I questioned whether or not he knew that the painting would be enough to make us all laugh, even in the face of danger. Perhaps that’s why he had hung it there, to try and bring some humor to an otherwise awful situation.
“Not gonna lie, I’m getting some egomaniac vibes here.” Parker chuckled as he remained glued to the portrait, a questionable look on his face.
I laughed at him. “That’s how he liked to come across. Like an asshole. But, truth be told, he’s probably one of the only reasons Peter is alive. Underneath it all, he was a good man. A real hero.”
He didn’t look fully convinced, evident by how put-off he looked by the glitz and glam of the decor surrounding us, but he didn’t push any further. I couldn’t blame him for being skeptical of Mr. Stark. Most people were, especially those that came from a less-fortunate walk of life. A man with so much money, never afraid to show it off. It was always bound to rub some people the wrong way.
“I heard you caught the lizard guy.” I changed the topic, moving away from the windows to go sit on the couch.
“Yeah, Dr. Connors.” Parker followed me, plopping down right beside me. It wasn’t often that there was much distance between the two of us anymore, as if we just unintentionally gravitated towards each other, sitting so close that our legs brushed against the others. “I told you that if they gave me a chance to get out on the streets that I could find him!”
The playfully cocky grin on his face made me smile right back at him. “Ya know, I thought you smelled like a sewer during that talk with Dr. Strange. Kinda figured that meant you were successful in your attempt.”
Parker feigned offense, “Too soon, y/n. Even after showering at least nine times, I’m still sensitive about my sewer stench.”
“Might be time for a tenth shower, don’t you think?” I teased.
He pinched the fabric of the Ramones t-shirt he was wearing, pulling it towards his nose to sniff it. After deeply inhaling the fabric, he glared at me. “I know you’re just messing with me, cause this–” he plucked at the fabric again, “smells like fresh lavender laundry detergent.”
His statement brought a random question to my mind, “When did you even have time to wash clothes?”
“At the wizard's place.” He shrugged as he spoke, as if it were so obvious. “I mean, I did literally crawl through the sewers of New York. I kind of had no choice but to wash my suit, so I went ahead and threw some other clothes in there too.”
Another question stirred to life. “I don’t know why, but the idea of Dr. Strange’s clothes smelling like lavender is so weird.”
“Fresh lavender.” Parker chided sarcastically, earning a small giggle from me. “But no, you’re right. Such a refreshing scent for such a terrifying man.”
“Well, being a sorcerer has to be a stressful job.” I commented, thinking aloud, “And lavender is a soothing scent, right? Maybe it’s for stress relief.”
“Aw.” Parker frowned, pouting just a bit as he thought about my words. “That’s kind of pitiful, then. Maybe Dr. Wizard needs a vacation.”
“We’ll have to make it our next mission.” I teased. “Ya know, after tracking down the rest of the otherworldly villains and attempting to prevent my supposedly inevitable death.”
The joke had slipped out so easily, so quick that I barely registered it. Yet, after a moment passed, the reality of it sunk in. For what felt like the millionth time, my stomach dropped as Strange’s words flashed through my head.
“You’re not gonna die, okay?” A shift in my mood never went unnoticed by Parker, as if he were somehow always perfectly in-tune with what I was feeling. “Not this time.”
His statement was meant for him just as much as it was me. A desperate attempt at comforting both of us, a promise he wasn’t certain he could actually keep.
I wanted to spill my guts to him. Share every doubt that I had, every fear about all of this. I wanted to get it all off of my chest, expel it from my mind. But I didn’t let myself, scared that if I let it out that it would still just consume me, rather than dissipate.
So instead of letting my fear come out, I masked it as curiosity, deciding to question him about my death. The version he knew of.
“How did it happen in your world?” I felt unusually confident about approaching the sensitive topic. Perhaps because one Peter Parker had already recalled the story of my death, desensitizing me a bit to the topic.
Parker clearly didn’t share in my slight apathy, only flinching at the question.
“I know Dr. Strange said an Osborn was involved in killing me, in both your world and Pete’s.” I continued after a few seconds of silence, urging him to talk. “It was your friend, right? Harry? You had said he became the Goblin in your world, but you never got to finish the story when we were talking.”
Parker cleared his throat uncomfortably, his arms crossing against his chest. “He was there.”
“So he wasn’t the one to kill me then?”
“No. Not technically.”
I hesitated, letting my words linger on the edge of my tongue for a moment before speaking, thinking of Pete’s world. “Did… Did you?”
It gained a reaction out of him, his eyes widening for a moment as he jerked his head to the side to look directly at me. “No!” His voice was so loud, so angry that it seemed to shock even himself. He worked to quiet himself, “Can we please not talk about this?”
“I’m sorry.” I held my hands up in surrender, hovering just a few inches above my lap. “I’m not trying to make you upset. I just—I figured the more I knew about how it happened in other worlds, the more likely it is that I could prevent it in this one.”
Parker remained completely silent, even after several minutes had passed. It was the first time since meeting him that he had stayed so quiet, stopping himself from turning the tense situation into something more playful and tame. I worried that I had pushed him too far.
“Peter still wants me to go to the safehouse in Vermont.” I blurted out, unable to bear another moment of silence. I liked hearing his voice, how easy it was to talk to him. “I don’t know if Pete is on board, but after Strange made it out like you guys are just a death sentence for me, I’m thinking Peter might be able to persuade him.”
Parker blinked, arms still wrapped around himself. “Does it matter?”
“What do you mean?” I cocked my head to the side, my eyes still focused on him, even if he refused to look back at me right now.
“What they think.” He clarified. “If they want you to go to Vermont, then are you gonna go?”
I frowned to myself, thinking the question over. “Probably not, no.”
“Why?”
The question seemed redundant, so incredibly obvious. I was confused as to why he would even ask such a thing, especially after hearing my opinion just earlier on leaving them.
“Because, when I needed help, they were always there for me.” I answered plainly, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. “Ned, Mj, Peter. They’re always there for me, no matter the risks. I’m not just gonna abandon them.”
“Is it really abandoning them if it saves your life?” There was a hint of attitude to his voice, finally turning his head enough that he was staring directly at me. Even now, with his sharp tone and evident discomfort from the topic I had tried to explore, his eyes were gentle when looking back at me.
“They are my life.” I told him, nodding slightly. “Even now, with things being kind of awkward between us, they’re everything to me. They’re my family.”
A crooked smile appeared on his lips, attempting to mask the disappointment my answer had caused. “And that’s why what happened in my world doesn’t matter.”
I cocked a brow at him, hoping he’d elaborate. He did.
“I know we’ve been over it about a billion times now, but you really are the same person I’ve always known. Through and through.” He shook his head a bit, laughing as he continued, “A goddamn—”
“Golden Oreo.”
We both spoke at the same time, the stupidly simple phrase enough to cause both of us to erupt in a fit of laughter. I lowered my head as I felt my face heat up from laughing so hard, trying to hide my amusement just a bit.
“If it means I’ll never abandon the people I love, then I’m ok with that.” Remnants of my joy remained, chuckles slipping through between the words as I continued to look down at my lap. “And now that includes you and Pete.”
I didn’t see the way his smile fell, his own happiness fading away until nothing was left except for a numb sadness, one that he had clearly been living with for quite a while. If I had seen it, then maybe I could have asked him why. Figured out what was so bad about me loving them, just as I loved everyone else.
But he covered that emotion back up, though, just before reaching out and letting a slender finger push against the bottom of my chin. A tender touch, soft and careful, so light that I could just barely feel his skin against mine, but strong enough that he was able to tilt my head up, forcing me to look at him again.
Looking at him now, it was as if that sadness that loomed inside of him didn’t exist at all. There was nothing but overwhelming warmth, an adoration I thought I had seen before, one I thought Peter had felt towards me once.
The moment was reminiscent of being in my apartment with Parker; the way it felt to have my hand rest against his cheek, the closeness of our bodies, even the sheer magnitude of emotions that threatened to swallow us whole.
Perhaps I didn’t know Parker perfectly, not in this life, but I was struck by him anyway. Enamored with the way that he knew me. The fact that he knew every one of my tells, every little shift in emotion, all the right ways to reach out and touch me, the tiniest of touches—always so innocent, so meaningful—offered only to ease the negative feelings building inside me.
All of those things made me wonder about his world. Whether or not he had loved me in his universe. Loved me the way I wished Peter would.
“Promise me something.” His voice shook slightly, a subtle indication of the fear that he was desperately fighting to hide. I nodded. “Don’t go to Vermont, stay if that’s what you want to do—but promise me that no matter what happens, you won’t try to be a hero, ok?”
Even with both of us sitting down, it still felt as if he towered over me, the tallest of the three Peter Parker’s. I glanced through my lashes, smiling up at him. Unlike him, I wasn’t willing to make promises I wasn’t sure I could keep.
“I’ll try.”
Parker exhaled, the warmth of his breath brushing past my cheeks, the minty scent of toothpaste overwhelming my senses. I breathed in. “I’m serious. Your main focus should always be on keeping yourself safe, alright? Everything else comes second.”
“My friends are never gonna come second.” I told him truthfully.
His thumb brushed against my jaw as he let his hand come up to cup my cheek, just as I had done to him once. It was different, though. When I had done it, it was meant to provide comfort, a selfless act with the intention to ease his hurt. I could tell that this gesture was of selfish intent, one of the few selfish acts I had ever watched him commit.
He traced against my skin, letting himself enjoy the warmth radiating off of flushed skin. His eyes dragged across my features, from my own eyes, to my nose, to my lips; as if he were mapping it out, trying to commit it to memory. I wondered if he had touched me like this before. I wondered if he had touched me like this when my skin had gone cold, when my lips had turned blue.
“You’ll try to keep yourself safe?” Parker finally let himself speak, low enough that no one but us would ever hear him.
Another nod, too lost in my own head to try and utter a word, too lost in the thought of a boy I barely knew. I barely knew him, barely knew Pete. Yet I was certain that I would risk my life for them, just the same as I would do for Peter.
Never with any doubt.
Never with any hesitation.
My silent action was enough for him, the closest he would ever get to a promise. Parker let himself smile—forced himself to smile—but this time I could see it. The sadness that lived in his chest, the grief hiding behind his gaze. Even as it overtook him, he didn’t dare pull his touch away from me, didn’t dare to let go of his reminder that I was here. That in this universe, I was alive.
And, beneath that sadness that had accompanied him for far too long now, was a growing rage. A strong and undying thing, a ferocity he had never known he was capable of—at the thought of the world trying to take me away again, of being forced to relive it.
“Good.” He spoke suddenly, doubling down on his last question. “You’ve gotta be safe this time. Cause trust me—” a weak look, a flash of rage, a pang of fear; he let his hand fall, forcing himself to create some distance. This wasn’t his world, wasn’t his y/n, wasn’t his. “Peter really needs you.”
And, this time, I wasn’t sure which Peter he had meant.
a/n - gosh, what a slow burn, huh? even better when you're writing slow burn fics for THREE potential love interests. kinda looks like someone is catching some minor feelings for parker (who isn't?). really looking forward to what i have planned for the next chapter though, which (if it goes to plan) will be a little less slow with one of the many peter parkers! <;3 let me know what you think so far and as always, thank you to everyone and anyone who reads this :)
also please lord someone send me some requests for peter (or most any avengers character tbh) so i can write something else when i'm feeling stumped on this haha
tag list - @taeteddybear @just-henny @tom-hollands-wifey
I was gonna say “what you think he had insurance???” but 1) at least in the early aughts to mid-teens, NY was one of the less excruciating states to get medicaid in, and 2) he was a minor and it’s a LOT easier to get medicaid for a minor, especially when said minor’s legal guardians are retirees on fixed incomes I’d wager.
So yeah they’re all just fuckin dumbasses! I love them.
This is why I think it would be peak comedy for the radioactive spider to be of a non-venomous species and for there to be a scene of a new Peter Parker/Spiderperson looking up the spider’s features or posting a photo to an identification subbredit before being informed of the fact that nothing will happen
Out of the Eddie Closet - @junackersworld @anime-for-live @weasleywinchester @elfwoodfae @stuckoutsideofthebox @alexloveskili @teacupcollector @messyserver @iwannabealocalcryptid
You were slumped over in your chair, face in your hands, elbows on your knees, as you tried, desperately, to calm yourself down. You’d just finished literally gaslighting Parnell after he’d walked in on you kissing Venom and you were having issues about that. The gaslighting, not the kissing.
Morsel?
“Having a crisis come back later,” you mumbled into your hands.
Tendrils wrapped around your wrists, little ribbons sliding up to intertwine around your fingers. I’m sorry, sweet one. I should have sensed him at the door. There came the familiar sensation of Venom pooling out of your side before you felt him bunt at your shoulder.
Summary: Wanting to be a moviemaker, you naturally kept everything you ever recorded. As you pack for your first year at NYU you come across a small box of USB drives...all featuring a boy you had a close relationship with but couldn't remember. Flashbacks lead you back to the masked love of your life in an alleyway.
Warnings: mentions of sex (both are 18), cursing
WC: 3.3k
A/N: I haven't written for Peter in SOOOOO long! Poorly edited at 3am. Enjoy ♡
requests are open ♡
"Honey, I found these boxes. Do you need more?" Your mother asked as she entered your room, placing the large cardboard boxes in front of her. She sighed and placed her hands on her hips, her eyes scanning your messy room.
You hummed and looked around at the boxes you already had, their final destinations were written on bold black sharpie. You didn't realize how much stuff you had until you had to downsize for dorm life at NYU. "No, Ma," you tell her with a smile, "I have plenty, plus I only have my closet to go through."
Your mother grimaced as she saw the state of your disorganized closet, "The thrift store down the street will be very happy this weekend," she joked before leaving.
You giggled to yourself and stood up to stretch your legs. NYU. It was finally happening, well, it was five years late but who were you to complain about it? Inhaling deeply, you walk over to the closet, deciding to take care of the cluttered top shelf first. So you reach as far as your arm could extend, gripping the first object your hand could reach.
After struggling to pull the object out, you grunt and tug on it with a little more force. Grinning you take a look at it; a small blue box with a few colorful USB drives in it. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, you had always put the videos and short films you made onto these things for safekeeping.
Plucking one from the box, you look at the beige masking tape 'first day at Midtown High' it read with blue ink. It was your video diary about your first day of high school.
Smiling fondly at the little stick, you hurry over to your bed to plug it into your laptop. After hearing the electronic chime, you pressed play on the file, you crossed your legs, resting your elbows on your knees.
The video started with a solid brown door before a woman with long brown hair opened it, smiling at your brightly "Y/N! come in, come in," the woman told you happily, "you know where he is." You cock your head in confusion, you didn't recognize the older woman with impeccable fashion sense but the motherly tone in her voice seemed familiar to you.
"Peter," you sing, pushing open the door. A thin boy with disheveled chestnut brown hair and bright brown eyes looked at you in surprise, he stopped shoving things into his backpack and smoothed out his blue shirt with the school's yellow logo front and center. A blush graces his cheeks as his thin lips form a wide, boyish smile, showing off the braces he had.
"Y/N!" he squeaked, "Wh-what are you doing with that camera?"
"It'll be my senior film at NYU in a few years! Documenting my life through high school," your lighter voice explained. "Are you ready for the first day?"
Peter nodded excitedly and swung his heavy backpack over his frail shoulder, "Ready," he told you determinedly, his eyebrows furrowing. You giggled before shutting off the camera.
You paused the video and sat up straight. "Peter," his name falls off your lips as a whisper. You didn't know a guy named Peter, or at least you thought you didn't. Those two people on the screen seemed to know you. "Peter," you whisper to yourself again, it felt right to say that name. Like you'd been saying it all your life, it was comforting in a way.
Pulling the little box into your lap, your fingers pushed the other USBs around. The title: 'Decathalon' caught your eye, and you quickly switched out the drives and clicked on the video file.
The camera was pointed at the long table in the library. Ned was there with his fedora he wore every day in freshman year. MJ was doodling in her notebook. You know them, you remember them. MJ worked at the donut shop and Ned was still the same Ned...just a little taller and he finally ditched the fedora.
"Peter," Liz grumbled from the head of the table, "can you answer the question?"
Peter looked away from you and quickly answered Liz's question with a cracking voice. You giggle softly to yourself and place your hand over your mouth to cover the amusement.
"Does my puberty amuse you?" Peter whispered from across the table. The heat rose to your cheeks, looking down at your textbook as you shake your head at him.
"No, Parker" you fought back the cackle that was threatening to come out, "I bet your voice will be nice when it changes," you told him with a confidence you didn't know you possessed. Peter felt the blush tingle at his pale cheeks, his lips parted in surprise.
"T-thanks."
You paused the video and removed the drive. You could barely hear anything in that video, just you and that Peter kid talking. Never once did you miss a decathlon meeting or competition. If Peter was on the team you would have remembered him. You felt a headache start to form at the base of your skull. Rubbing the tender spot, you searched your memory for him; a figure always sat across from you at the meetings, but he was blurry... like he was a memory from a dream.
One more video, maybe he's in another one, you thought to yourself as you grabbed another one. 'Summer' this one read. It didn't have anything special; just clips from your vacation before sophomore year, MJ protesting in Brooklyn, Ned giving you facts about the Lego sets he wanted to build (including the new Death Star.) You were about to turn the video off when you saw Peter's face, his braces were gone and his voice was deeper. Butterflies formed in your stomach for someone you didn't know.
He was sitting across from you in Central Park, the sun made his skin glow in all the right places. He looked stronger, you just knew he had toned muscles underneath that t-shirt. Puberty must have hit him like a truck, he certainly wasn't like the kid in the other videos.
"Should I try out for football this year, Y/N?" he asked you, biting into the sub he got from Delmars.
You laughed and pointed at him, "Pete you get winded from the Subway stairs."
He glared at you with narrowed brown eyes, "I could do it, ya know," he mumbled under his breath.
You sighed, realizing that was not what he needed to hear from you of all people, "I know you can. And if you want to try out, do it! I'll support you either way."
You paused the video again. The image of Peter's face smiling at you was staring into your soul. None of this made sense! How in the hell did you have all these videos of conversations with him and you had no idea how you knew him? Surely it was you in the video! You were able to recognize your voice, and he was saying your name in the videos. Oh, his soft voice when he said your name, it was melodic, you wished you could have put it on repeat. Your heart was fluttering.
Maybe this was a side effect of the Blip. Selective memory? Remembering most of your friends and forgetting one, singular person. It was a plausible theory, at least you didn't have any romantic feelings for him. It'd be impossible to forget then...right?
After taking a long break, taking a trip to the thrift store, and letting your brain relax you sat back on your bed and opened up your laptop, sliding over the box of USB drives.
"Tonight's the homecoming dance," the younger you said on the video. Your camera was on your desk as you stood in the middle of your bedroom, showing off the outfit you picked out. You formed a bright smile, letting out a soft hum at the nostalgia of the short pink dress you wore. "Peter asked me to be his date. He's been acting really weird lately, maybe that means he likes me...maybe he'll kiss me even."
He what? You didn't have a date that night.... you went with MJ and Ned as a group. Whipping your head in the direction of your desk, the framed photo of the three of you gave you some evidence. Peter Parker never asked you to the dance, you didn't know him! You danced, drank the punch Flash spiked, and went home.
You needed more. Ripping the drive out of the plug, you searched the box for something more recent. You grabbed the one that had '18' written on it with a poorly drawn birthday cake. You had your 18th birthday party a few weeks after returning from the Blip. The party was still fresh in your memory, you could recall every detail of it down to the flavor of the cake and the smell of the horrid cologne Ned wore that night.
Your breathing became more shallow as you pressed the space bar roughly. Your bedroom was dimly lit, you were sitting timidly on your bed like you were waiting for something to happen. That dress. You remembered that short burgundy dress with a solid white turtleneck underneath it. It was still in your closet. "Hurry before they notice we're gone!" You whisper shouted in the video. No one else was in the frame.
Peter. He crouched in front of the camera, adjusting the position of the camera, "I'm coming, I'm coming," he laughed, swiping his tongue along his bottom lip. After he moved it to the perfect angle, he jumped up and ran over to the bed, sitting across from you.
What the hell was going on? Your eyes went as wide as they could go as you watched yourself climb into his lap, straddling him with your hands cupping his face. Peter placed his hands on your waist and looked up at you with adoration. Heart thumping as you watched his lips cover yours shyly, then moving in unison effortlessly, hands roaming each other's bodies so intimately. You touched the lips he supposedly kissed, they were on fire. Then you heard it.
"I love you, Peter."
"I love you too, Y/N."
A knock on the door brought you and Peter out of the mesmerizing moment, Peter shoved you off of his lap with a hushed chuckle. "We're cutting the cake, come on lovebirds!" MJ yelled from the other side.
Tears had formed in your eyes, your throat beginning to close up. Panic set in when you tried to remember the morning after your birthday. You remember waking up in sheer bliss. You had given everything to the boy in the video, letting him see you in your most vulnerable state... and he gave himself to you in the same way.
Slamming your laptop shut, frustrated tears fell from your e/y/e eyes. "Mom!" You cried as you fled the room, hurrying down the hallway of your apartment. His words echoed in your head and you couldn't escape it.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" she asked worriedly, standing up from the couch. You sobbed as you clung to her, burying your face in her chest.
"Peter," you whispered over and over. Finally pulling back you looked at her. "Did I know someone named Peter Parker?" you asked, your voice wavering as you mention the brunet boy's name.
She shook her head, "No, baby I don't remember. I know all your friends, and no one has that name."
"Did they check my head at the hospital?" You yelled, pulling away from her, looking up at her with fearful eyes "after I came back?"
"Yes of course! Y/N, what's going on?"
You shook your head and violently wiped your eyes with the sleeve of your purple NYU hoodie. "I was in love with him," you whisper brokenly, "I don't remember him."
She placed her hand on your warm cheek, "I think you're just stressed out because of the move and starting college. Just go to bed, you'll feel better in the morning." You didn't protest.
It wasn't stress! It felt so real... you saw it yourself! You could just feel his muscular hands run up and down your skin with such love and tender care, soft lips marking you as his own. The raspiness of his voice telling you he loved you in your ear.
You sat hunched up against the head of your bed, a pillow placed over your lap. You were in love with a boy you'd never met. Your head was pounding at this point, your head might as well split and half. There was one drive left in the bin, it was staring at you, calling your name. A shiny red one with a drawing of a spider next to a filled-in heart.
Sniffling, you lurched forward and grabbed the cold laptop and the USB drive. Placing it on your lap, you lean back against the headboard, barely ready for whatever happened next.
Of course it was Peter appearing on the screen. The boy excitedly laughed and jumped on the bed in a hotel room. His brown hair was all over the place, you smiled at his fast-talking. Peter was the one recording, "Y/N! You'll never believe that's happening to me!" he cheered. In the background there was another man in a black suit and a noticeable frown, complaining that Peter needed to hurry and change.
He pans the camera over to a silver suitcase, shaking as he pressed a button. You could feel the air being punched from your lungs as a Spider-Man suit was revealed. "Put it on," the older man said. That was Peter's suit.
"Y/N, I got a new suit! Holy shit! Mr. Stark got me a new suit."
Peter Parker was Spider-Man.
You knew of Spider-Man. He saved your team from falling at the Washington Monument, his thick Queens accent still rang in your ears as he asked you if you were ok. You were alive, but not ok when you were dangling in the air, sticky webbing around your wrist. He saved you. He saved the world when Thanos attacked. You watched him swing from your building so many times. You slammed your laptop down again and picked up your cell phone, shoving the drive of your 18th birthday party in the pocket of your sweatpants. You remembered Spider-Man...why couldn't you remember the boy behind the mask. You were going to find him. Right now.
Sliding on the nearest pair of Vans, you tugged on a thicker coat as you stared at the screen. 'Recent Spider-Man Sightings' popped up in your search. You read the address that was updated just two minutes ago, and it was right down the street near Delmar's Deli.
The air was even colder on your tear-stained face as you ran down the street, hands protectively in your pockets to keep them warm. Looking up at the late-night sky you see his silhouette swing towards the deli.
Running into the alley, you gasp for air as you hide behind the stacked pile of black garbage bags. Closing your eyes you tried to calm down, hell you didn't even know if he'd stop here. But it turned out to be fate, hearing a soft landing into a melted snow puddle followed by a disgusted groan. His voice was similar to the one you kept hearing in the videos you shot.
Creeping out quietly, you looked at his strong back, his head covered by his mask. You gulp and furrow your eyebrows in an attempt to stand tall and confident, you'd never admit you were crying half the night. "Do you know who I am?" Your voice calls out weaker than you meant it. So much for being strong.
You could visibly see him stiffen. His hands clenched into fists as he turns to face you. The superhero doesn't respond, his head cocks slowly like he was questioning if you were really standing there.
"I-I keep seeing you in these videos," you tell him as you pull out the USB drive, holding it up. You felt daring as you took a few steps closer out of the cover of night and towards the frozen spider. "A-and I have no idea who you are," you whimper as more tears fall from your bloodshot eyes. "We had a life together and I remember none of it!"
"Y/n," he says, holding his gloved hand out.
You gasp as he spoke your name, a chill ran down your spine "You know me," you sob, "why don't I remember you, Peter!"
Peter starts to walk towards you cautiously, not wanting to frighten you. You match his slow pace, avoiding the puddles as you stood in front of him. Now able to see the shine in his costume underneath the golden light of the street lamp. It was much different than the one in the video or the ones you saw in the news, homemade was your first thought as you looked at the stitching.
His shaking hands rise to the hem of his mask. He slowly slips it off, and you swore you skipped several heartbeats as you saw his unmasked face. His poor features were bruised and scratched, his beautiful brown eyes were bloodshot and filled to the brim with tears, hair a mess. Peter's bottom lip quivers, the small cut splitting open, "You know my name," he sobs in disbelief, his voice cracking.
You nod as you frown, "The videos," you tell him, "You're in all of them."
He looked at the writing on the masking tape. He wrote that... he wrote all the labels to your files at your request. You'd told him he drew cute doodles once and he forever had the job of labeling your stuff. "You kept those." He was on the verge of breaking down again, his face twisting like he was going to cry harder, his entire body trembling.
Tucking the drive into your pocket, your nervous hands reach up and allow your fingertips to touch his clenched jawline. The delicate touches felt so familiar, his skin was still smooth despite the healing cuts littering the area. Peter's jaw slackened at your touch, he missed the way your gentle hands felt on him.
Peter's own trailed down your arms, wrapping around your wrists, his thumb swiping at the bones. "You found me," he cried, "you told me y-you would." He shyly leans forward and rests his forehead against yours as you let your hands rest on his neck.
"Tell me what happened," you request, your eyes fluttering closed.
"I promise I will... can I- can I just kiss you first?" Peter's voice was soft as the words left his lips. You look into his eyes and without confirmation, you kiss him first. A shockwave of emotions run through your body as he held your trembling frame, his fingers desperately gripping the material of your coat.
A hum releases from your throat. Maybe your mind couldn't remember him, but your body did with the way you could easily melt into his touch. Your chest pressed up against his and you could feel his thundering heart beating against his ribcage. "I missed you," you said subconsciously as you pulled away. Your words tickled his lips making him smile.
"You have no idea how much I've missed you."
It would take a few days, but in the cold apartment he rented, you would sit with Peter in his cramped bed. His arm draped around you and held you close to his side, your laptop resting on his thighs as he showed you all the videos he had of your story together. Slowly, and with the added knowledge of Dr. Stranges's spell, you were able to piece things together, it was hazy at some points but you had your Peter back and he had you back in his arms.
Okay I reblogged this before BUT the visual contrast between the first scene and the second one is fantastic. The first sets Peter’s vibrantly multicolored suit up against the black & white colors of the reactor; the second does the same thing, but switches the palettes. Now the background is in reds and blues and Miles’ suit is the black and white. And he still catches the eye in a screen full of moving parts. THIS MOVIE, GUYS.
Symbrock, Venom X Female!Reader, Venom/Eddie Brock/Fem!Reader
You’ve been hired to make sure the rave goes off without a hitch. The music is blaring, security is keeping out the undesirables, people are having fun, drinks are being mixed and served… and then something, someone, completely different crashes the party. You thought he was just sporting a rather impressive costume, and wouldn’t have thought otherwise… until you found yourself hosting an alien. Please God don’t let him be the kind that lays eggs in your chest.
if loki is in multiverse of madness i am BEGGING marvel to include that one bit from the comics where someone turns off all their magic so they're "equals" and they'll have to "talk it out like adults" and doctor strange is like "EQUALS? BUT HE'S STILL A--" right before loki punches him through a fucking wall
dailybridgerton
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