#andrew garfield!spiderman

[funfreezone]

AG!Spiderman x MBJ!MJ resurgence reignited my fury about TASM3 being unfairly scrapped. TASM revisionist history, but real spiderman fans loved it the entire time!

[slytherheign]

WORTH THE RISK | tasm!peter parker

PART 1/5 OF WORTH: THE SERIES.

PAIRING: tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 3.3k

SUMMARY: there's a new threat in town and spider-man has found himself falling for his roommate. after what happened with gwen, he must decide if it's worth the risk yet again.

WARNINGS: depictions of death, depression, grieving, cursing, and canon-typical injuries. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: 17+]

AUTHOR'S NOTE: some characters may be ooc. there are a lot of flashbacks-current time switching. you can criticize my writing, but please be nice.

DESTINATION: Angst Avenue | GO TO SERIES MASTERLIST or GO BACK TO THE STATION.

There was trouble looming around town. Peter Parker felt it. He felt it by the way the hair on his body stood up. He felt it by the way the nerves in his body alerted him. He felt it by the way the wind changed its demeanor as he swung through his beloved New York City.

Aside from the common thefts committed by robbers and the fights brought upon by different gangs, crimes in New York City were almost quiet to him. For a couple of years, there was no big threat that needed Spider-Man’s help.

As the friendly neighborhood hero, of course, he still offered his assistance, but the police assured him that they could handle the crimes on their own. He appreciated the thought, but his love for the city weighed more than the thought of a much-needed rest. He did not like what the police had insisted. Him not saving New York City? Nope. Not gonna happen. Never.

He could still remember the conversation clearly.

"It's not gonna happen. I'm gonna help you," he told them. To which an officer named Carlos replied: "As much as we appreciate you and your assistance, please let us do our job. The people now trust you more than us, which makes a lot of sense because you have saved so many of us, but our reputation for being able to save them has got to be back on track."

"So what, you don't want me anymore? You know you can't stop me from helping people, right?"

The middle-aged police officer nodded. "But you gotta understand, Spidey, what's happening now is that the people call you for help first instead of us. If you keep responding to those calls, there may not be a job left for us anymore. Who are we going to save if you already saved them first?"

Peter understood, as he always did. But the mere thought of not doing anything for the city—his city—got him feeling uneasy.

"But–" he started to reason with him, but another officer, this time a red-haired British woman named Charlene, raised her hand to stop him from talking any further.

"How about this..." Charlene started. "In the meantime, put your suit down and rest from all of this crime-fighting stuff, and let us handle it. And then when there comes a big threat that needs your help, the first thing we'll do is call you."

Carlos agreed, nodding as he went beside Charlene to hold her hand. So they're a married couple, Peter thought.

"Well, can I at least do a little saving and patrol the city every once in a while?" he asked.

The police couple looked at each other before looking back at him. "Fine," Carlos replied. "We can work with that," Charlene continued.

Peter smiled. "Okay, cool. We have a deal, then."

It has been two years and what Peter has named the "big threat, big help" call has not been made. Which he thought should be a good thing, right? Because it would mean that his beloved city was safe from being destroyed any sooner.

However, as he currently swung through the city for what he deemed was just a little night patrol, something was off and he knew it. He wasn't even finished patrolling the entire city. There were still a lot of places he has not yet checked tonight. He smelled trouble and the ringing from his phone with the police's name as the caller confirmed it.

He stopped at the rooftop of a random building before he answered. "What's going on?" he asked.

"We need your help," Carlos stated, his Latino accent laced with fear. "There have been reports of multiple houses being broken into for the past 15 minutes. 1 person has already died, and 6 are badly injured and on their way to the hospital. Given the short amount of time and the fact that the houses are beside each other, we believe they all have the same culprit."

"Do you know what this person looks like?"

"The victims are too traumatized to speak, we couldn't get any information out of them. We're now looking at the city cameras–holy shit."

"What?"

"This isn't just a normal person, Spidey. He's green and he looks like a scorpion."

Peter knew he should think about the injured people.

Peter knew he should think about the poor person who had unfortunately died.

Peter knew he should think about the green scorpion-looking criminal.

But the first person he thought about was you.

The past couple of years for Peter were eventful, to say the least.

After all, after Gwen's tragic death, nothing was the same anymore.

Was it a bad thing or a good thing? Maybe both? He didn't know.

First was the sleepless nights. Every single time he would close his eyes, images of Gwen free-falling to her demise plagued his thoughts. It terrified him—how Gwen's eyes reflected acceptance as she looked at him for the last time. Even in her last moments, she understood... and she accepted. It scared him how she embraced death like a long-lost family member.

Peter knew Gwen didn't want him to blame himself. But he couldn't help it, could he? He was given these abilities... to help people, to heal people, to save people... and yet he couldn't save the person he treasured the most. He couldn't save her.

And even then, at the moments where rest finally found its way to his eyes and body, it would be tormented with nightmares. Rest, for him, was never an option.

Second was the loss of interest. Things that brought him joy before and hobbies that he used to enjoy, he didn't care about them anymore. He was simply uninterested.

Sure, Aunt May had been there for him every step of the way, but even she cannot bring him back to feel anymore. He appreciated his aunt for even trying.

Now came the third and hardest part. As if the pain he was in wasn't enough for the gods above to take pity on him—two months after Gwen's demise, Aunt May passed away.

Peter felt horrible. His last two months with her were him being unresponsive. Aunt May had reached out for him, but he didn't meet her halfway. She tried so hard to help him, and in some ways she did, but he was too caught up in his own hurt and pain that it did not occur to him that she was also hurting for her nephew. For him.

Now, instead of visiting a grave, he had to visit two.

He was in ruins. Everyone he loved the most was gone and he was left to himself. He had no faith. No hope. No everything. None.

Until you came.

He was visiting Gwen for her first death anniversary. Peter couldn't believe it—one whole year since he lost her. Where did time even go?

It was just like the usual; he would sit in front of her grave, talking to her as if she were still living. He would update her on what was happening in his life—a common thing he would do at his aunt's grave as well.

That was when he heard you loudly sniffing from behind his back. Initially, he planned to ignore it to give you some privacy. But the sniffing got louder and your breathing got even slower. He decided to cut his conversation short with Gwen's tombstone; he could do that any other day. You clearly needed comfort, and while he was not obliged to give it to you, something inside him screamed that he should. He sat up from his position and made his way to you.

What he saw was a heartbreaking sight. You sat across the stone, arms desperately clinging to your knees for comfort. You were aware of the new presence beside you, but you couldn't stop crying. It was all just too much. You had just lost your father last year, and now just a month ago, you lost your mother too. You had no siblings or pets, and your friends were on the other side of the world, too busy to visit or even check up on you. You were alone.

Peter crouched down beside you, trying to meet your eyes. And when he finally did, his heart shattered into pieces. You caught his gaze. "I–I'm sorry–" you sniffed. "It's umm... it's my mom's birthday," you pointed at the tombstone in front of you. "Sh–she died a month ago."

That was it. Your broken voice pulled a string in his heart that made him soft for you. He didn't know what gave him the courage, but he sat down from his position beside you and hugged you tightly.

You were surprised at first but appreciated the comfort. The last time someone hugged you was by your mother on her deathbed. For the last month, you lasted on your own. No human interactions except the little greetings you exchanged with the people you passed on the street and the people at work. There were only four places your world consisted of: your house, your workplace, the cemetery, and the grocery store.

You clung to his body as if your life depended on it, and maybe in some ways, it actually did. "It's going to be okay," he whispered. "We're gonna get through this together."

We. Together.

Funny how you just met this man and he cared more for you than the people you called your friends. There was something about him that radiated comfort and protection. You knew you should be embarrassed by yourself; you were a broken mess. You probably looked crazy with your hair all tangled and your face streaked with tears that you were sure just messed up his jacket. But you didn't care, you needed him. And unbeknownst to both of you, he needed you just the same.

That night ended with Peter bringing you to his favorite coffee shop. He treated your coffee as you talked about your life, and he talked about his.

You learned that it was his past girlfriend whom he was visiting at the cemetery. He told you that it was her first death anniversary, to which you replied: "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," he raised the palm of his hand playfully. "It's not like you killed her or anything," he joked.

You laughed with him before moving on to a new topic. You told him about your parents, how your father died from a car crash years ago, and how your mother died because of cancer. Was it too early to tell him the heaviest life issues you mostly kept to yourself? You didn't know. But you were at ease when you were in his presence. Maybe that's why you couldn't stop talking the moment he started the conversation.

He told you about his aunt as well, who died so suddenly after merely two months of his girlfriend's passing. You were so easy to talk to. He almost told you everything about him. Almost. There was a reason why he left out the reason behind Gwen's death—you didn't need to know about the double life he's living. So he left out everything that related to the web-slinging hero.

You were so caught up with each other that it didn't even occur to both of you that two hours had passed until a staff member went to your table to inform you that the shop was closing.

You and Peter left the shop afterwards. He insisted on walking you home since it was pretty late at night and he knew just how the night wasn't safe for people, especially for women. You agreed, mentioning that the house was actually your family's, but since your parents had died, it was all yours now.

"We're here," you informed him. "So... uh–" you looked down as you played with your fingers. Peter looked at you the entire time.

You met his eyes. "Thank you. For everything. I–I hope this isn't the last time we'll see each other."

"Of course," he smiled.

You hugged him. How the hell did that even happen? You had no idea. You practically just ran to his arms and hugged him. Peter didn't mind, though. And if he was being honest, he enjoyed hugging you as well. "See you soon," he added. He didn't leave until you were inside and waved at him from the window.

Maybe this is why the world brought the two of you together. Two broken people who needed healing, ready to heal each other.

His visits became a weekly thing. Every Saturday, he would visit you and you would go to his—and now your own as well—favorite coffee shop. One time, you mentioned that you were thinking of moving to a new apartment because the memories that came with your family house were becoming too much to bear. You needed time away from it in order to fully move on. Besides, it was getting lonely. Having a roommate would also be nice. When he asked you what would happen to your house, you told him that you would still visit it once in a while to clean and maintain it.

Peter, like the absolute genius that he was, had an idea.

"What if you move in with me?" he mused.

Your eyes widened at the sudden offer. You looked at him as he stared at you, waiting for your answer.

"Be roommates with me?" he asked once again.

You thought hard about the idea.

Peter needed a new start, and you needed company. This was shooting two birds with one stone. There was no need to choose. The choice was already obvious.

You smirked, putting your hand out for him to shake. "Deal."

Before Peter took his way to the police station, he made sure to swing by the apartment the two of you shared to check on you.

You were on the couch sleeping while The Notebook was paused on the television. Tonight was movie night. A tradition you both made to follow every Thursday. An hour ago, he was just cuddling you while watching the film. It was peaceful...

Until he sensed something off.

He couldn't just leave you there, but he also couldn't ignore the nagging trouble he was sensing.

He had to at least swing by the city and check.

He didn't know what to do.

He had to find an excuse, and he had to do it quickly.

Luckily, you did it for him.

"You know, for some reason, I'm really craving some donuts right now," you blurted out.

Peter immediately agreed. "You know what? Let me buy some. I promise I'll be back before you know it," he said, standing up quickly. "And hey–" he jokingly pointed a finger. "Don't you dare finish the movie without me."

"Noted," you chuckled, grabbing the remote and pausing the film.

He went back to his bedroom to get his backpack before leaving the apartment, smiling as he closed the door.

You had no idea what he needed his backpack for when he was just going to buy some donuts, but you paid it no mind. He probably just wasn't used to getting out without the bag on his back.

Peter, clad in his Spider-Man suit, observed you from afar.

You looked so peaceful in contrast to the chaos that was currently happening outside. And even in moments of deep slumber, you still looked so beautiful.

He realized you fell asleep waiting for him.

He had promised to be back soon. Yet another promise he had to break.

He felt guilty, but it must be done.

There was no time, Peter reminded himself. And so he continued his way to the police station with one thing on his mind.

He needed to protect you.

"Oh, thank God, you're here," Charlene breathed in relief. "Here–look at this," she gestured for him to follow her into the room where the city cameras resided. She pointed at one of the screens. "This is what he looks like."

"Do we know where he is now? I could swing through the city and find him." Peter insisted.

"No, we need you here," she replied.

"No offense, but I don't think I should be in here right now. He could still be out there."

"That's the thing–he's gone," Charlene admitted. She nodded at Carlos, who had just entered the room.

"What?"

"We already sent all our teams. They say he's gone."

"It's like he just disappeared," Carlos commented.

Peter thought hard about what was happening. "No," he gritted his teeth. "He wanted attention. My attention. And he wreaked havoc just to get it."

"But why?" Carlos asked.

Charlene answered for him. "To create chaos. Come to think of it, for the last two years, there was no big threat to the city. Even Spider-Man..." she glanced at Peter. "Laid low."

Peter agreed. "Some people hate the quiet. And they would do everything to bring back the noise and destruction again."

"What will we do now?" Charlene looked at him, waiting for an order as more officers came into the room.

"I'll do patrols as I always do, but this time every day and night. You check the cameras at all times and install some more around the city. Continue sending your teams to patrol as well. Inform the medical facilities—tell them to prepare for a possible surge of injured people. Don't lack on communication, inform and update each other, and..."

Peter looked around at the people in the room. "If you see anything suspicious, you know how to call me."

Peter left without another word. The situation was more dangerous than he thought, and he planned to get to you as fast as possible. He made a promise to himself that he would keep you safe no matter what it takes.

He found himself knocking on your shared apartment’s window. He saw you slowly stand up from the couch, lazily wiping the sleep off of yourself.

You were confused for a moment, wondering who could be knocking at your apartment at this time—it was coming from the window too.

Surprised would be an understatement for your reaction when you opened up the curtains and saw Spider-Man in your window. With wide eyes and an open mouth you had to close, you opened the window and let the hero inside.

"Wha—" you stuttered.

"Watch the news," he ordered.

You were confused but nonetheless followed his order. He sounded serious. And when Spider-Man was giving you orders in your living room, you gotta follow them.

"Just an hour ago, a green scorpion-looking identity was reported breaking into multiple houses, causing a casualty and 6 badly injured people. We have no report as to where he is right now, but the police and Spider-Man are currently in the process of capturing the criminal. Be careful out there, and wish our protectors luck," the reporter informed.

You were fully awake at this point. Not knowing what to do, you looked over the hero who was already looking at you.

Suddenly, you remembered Peter. Surely, it wouldn't take that long to buy some donuts? He was not yet back. And with a killer on the loose, you were getting more worried each passing second.

"Oh god, m-my friend–he's still out there," you started shaking and pacing.

"Peter," Spider-Man replied. You immediately stopped pacing and looked at him so fast you thought it would break your neck. "You know him? Peter?" you asked with hope.

He noticed the worry that hugged your face. He wanted to hug you, to tell you that he's Peter and that he loves you, but he remembered a promise he made.

To protect you.

Two graves were enough.

Trouble was attached to him. Wherever he went, it followed him.

No matter what it takes.

It was now or never.

So he did what he thought was best to protect you.

"Peter Parker is dead."

He pretended he was dead.

[katyswrites]

Dress

summary: Our secret moments in your crowded room; they've got no idea about me and you; there is an indentation in the shape of you; made your mark on me, a golden tattoo

pairing: tasm!peter parker / fem!reader

genre: smut, romance, fluff

wordcount: 4.2k

content warnings: 18+ only, MINORS DNI, smut, nsfw, literally pure filth, some fluff, college!peter, college!reader, fem!reader, established relationship, semi-public sex, secret relationship (kind of), possesive!peter (kind of), oral sex (f and m receiving), titty worshipping, cursing, p in v, fingering, vaginal sex, drunk sex, overstimulation if you squint, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), Peter is whipped for Y/N, also Harry never turned evil because I said so

*CHARACTERS ARE 18+!!!!*

From the moment you walk into the party, you feel his eyes on you. How can you not? You arrive late, knowing he’d be here. When you and your girlfriends enter the house, through the smoke and sweat, you lock eyes with him instantly. He’s across the room, in the corner with his friend Harry, a red Solo cup raised to his lips.

You avert your gaze quickly, eyes flitting to anywhere else in the room. Still, you were looking at him long enough to see him nearly choke on his drink. You smirk as you open your bottle of cider, in spite of yourself. Before leaving your apartment, you had debated whether to wear your little black dress or not - evidently, it’s the right decision. You know he is trying to catch your attention again, to corner you, but you don’t care - at least, you pretend not to. 

“Come on, let’s dance!” Natalie cries, beckoning you into the center of the room. You laugh as your roommate grabs your hand, leading you into the crowd. Soon, you lose yourself in the beat of the music, closing your eyes and swaying with your friends. It’s the same standard shit they played in every frat party you’d ever been to, but you didn’t care - it’s finals week, you’re finally free, and you know Peter Parker is going to be watching. Soon, you’re drunk, sweaty, and feel every care you have dissipating by the minute. Every so often, you even forget that Peter was there somewhere, thinking about you. 

It is thrilling, to say the least - knowing that nobody at this party, including your own best friends, know about you and Peter. You’ve heard them talk, of course, about how hot Peter Parker is, and how they wish they knew more about the mysterious genius who skated to class each day. Little do they know, that every time they brought up Peter, or sat next to him in class, or pried about your love life, that he had fucked you the night before. Or that morning. Or in the car 20 minutes earlier. You and Peter are each other’s dirty little secrets, and you can’t think of anything more exciting. And, although you want to tease him for a bit, you know exactly how tonight would end.

As the minutes fade into hours, you find yourself stumbling to the bathroom. As you wash your hands, you look up at yourself in the mirror. Even though you had felt like a million bucks when you walked into the party, you aren’t so sure now - you’re sweaty, practically leaking alcohol; your hair is beginning to frizz a bit, and your dark lipstick is starting to fade. Still, you know you’re doing about as well as any other girl at this stage in the party - and, you know that you look pretty killer in your dress. You take a deep breath, and open the door to re-enter the chaos outside - only to come face-to-face with Peter.

“Hi,” he says, giving a small grin.

“Hey,” you breathe back. Despite every intention, you still feel warm and weak in the knees when you’re this close to Peter, especially when he won’t tear his eyes away from yours. 

Did he see you going to the bathroom, and follow you? Did he wait for you outside, hoping to get you alone? You secretly hope so.

“I, uh -” you say, stumbling slightly over your words, “I - I brought other drinks… I need to get them… they’re uh - they’re in the bedroom.” You gesture your head down the hall, to the closed door just before the kitchen.

Peter follows your gaze, and nods a little too enthusiastically. “Yeah, right - me too - I mean… I need something, um, from that room too.”

You nod, doing your best to stay nonchalant - you finally tear yourself from the doorway of the bathroom, much to the relief of the line of people waiting for it. Peter waits a moment before heading the same direction, trying not to appear as if he was following you. 

You stumble slightly down the hall, your heeled booties suddenly seeming like a mistake, even though you know they are part of the reason you can feel Peter’s eyes on your ass. You jiggle the handle of the old door and swing it open, walking in. Peter follows a moment later, quickly closing the door and pushing the inner lock.

You turn to him, but before you can even say anything, his hands are on you. He grabs your face, pulling you close and crashing your lips together. Your breath catches in your throat for a moment, before you relax into the kiss. It’s rough, demanding, and everything you need right now. This was beginning to become familiar, easy; it didn’t hurt that Peter knows how to kiss. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pulling yourself flush to him. He continues to kiss you, tasting cheap beer, and you love everything about it. You open your mouth more, allowing his tongue entrance. As you try to pull back for air, he gently catches your bottom lip in his teeth, a quiet groan escaping from somewhere deep within his chest.

“God, I missed you,” he breathes, panting almost in unison with you. It’s true - with finals, you and him had holed yourselves up in the library, or with study groups, or in office hours - you hadn’t really sought each other in over two weeks.

“Me too,” you gasp, as his lips make their way to your neck, wasting no time in sucking the sensitive skin there. “Peter!” you cry, grabbing onto his shoulders. “That’s gonna leave a mark, they’ll see -”

“I don’t care,” he growls. “I want you to remember this - to remember exactly who you belong to.”

You hate the way your knees almost buckle at that. Sometimes, Peter was slow, gentle, and you could have your way with him - tonight isn’t one of those nights.

“That’s what you get,” he says, between kisses, “for showing up here tonight, looking like that, in that little tight dress.” He never stops assaulting your neck, alternating between sucking and peppering kisses up and down, until he eventually makes his way back to your lips.

You smile at that. “Well you know,” you say, running your fingers through his hair, “I only bought this dress so you could take it off.”

This sets Peter off. He seizes your lips again, pulling your head towards his roughly. You stumble backwards, never breaking the kiss until your knees hit the bed, sending you backwards. 

Peter leans over you, never missing a beat. “Let’s make that come true then, baby,” he says, his fingers toying with the straps of the dress. He pulls the straps down, his hurried desperation suddenly evaporating as he slowly rolls them down your arms. You shimmy up, trying to shove the straps off, but he stops you. 

“Nope - I’m taking my time,” he whispers, his face centimeters from yours. 

Oh - oh. He’s going to draw this out - payback for the first half of the night.

“Fine,” you concede. “Do your worst.”

Maybe I shouldn’t have said that, you think to yourself and he painstakingly rolls the straps down your arms, now opting to go one at a time; first right, then left. Then, he lifts you up slightly, effortlessly - why was he always so strong? - and reaches for the zipper at your back, He ever so slowly pulls the zipper down, but only to just below your shoulder blades before stopping. You huff in protest, but he wastes no time in yanking the top of the dress down, freeing your breasts. You knew a bra would be a waste of time tonight, you think to yourself smugly. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, oggling your breasts as if he’s never seen them before. “Missed your tits so fucking much,” he whispers, burying his face between them. You close your eyes as he reaches his hand up to your left boob, massaging it as he attacks your right one with his mouth. You arch your back and cry out as he sucks on your nipple.

“God, missed your pretty sounds too,” he says, switching to the other breast, “I love how you sound when I touch you.”

“Peter -” you gasp, struggling for breath as his tongue swirls around your nipple, “please -”

“Please what?” he asks innocently, looking up at you with a devilish smirk from between the valley of your breasts.

“I need you - I need you to touch me -” you moan.

“I am touching you,” he says, lazily toying with your nipple between his fingers.

You groan. “You know what I mean.”

Peter smirks, pulling himself back up to you, and pressing a kiss to your lips. “Oh, right,” he replies. His hand snakes down, down, down -

He reaches under the hem your dress, brushing his hand along your soft inner thigh, causing you to shiver slightly. When his hands find your back lace panties, he shoves them to the side. As his fingertips brush against your clit for the first time all night, your eyes roll closed.

He spreads the lips of your cunt with his fingers, tracing circles around your clit with the pad of his thumb. As he runs his fingers along your slit, he whispers “So fucking wet - so wet for me, isn’t that right?”

You bite your lip, throwing your head back as stars dance behind your eyes. Your chest begins to rise and fall rapidly as he continues to stroke your clit. He pauses for a moment. You open your eyes, about to protest, and lock eyes with Peter. His gaze is fixed on yours, biting his lips as he concentrates where he’s reaching down between your legs. Then, he slowly sinks two fingers inside you, causing you to throw your head back again. He begins to pump his fingers, slowly, his thumb returning its attention to your clit. 

You feel the heat pooling between your thighs, fisting your hands in the sheets, rolling your hips into his hand. He speeds up the ministrations of his fingers, brushing against that soft, sensitive part inside you, making your toes curl and your vision start to go white behind your eyes. Yes, yes, yes -

Then, just before you reach your peak, he stops. He quickly withdraws his fingers, leaving you feeling empty. You gasp and groan in frustration, eyes flying open. “What the -” you begin to say, almost crying from desperation.

“Shh, shhh,” he says. “I need to taste you,” he breathes, pressing a kiss to your neck. “I’d rather have you come on my mouth.”

Your heart does a somersault at that. He moves down, getting off the bed, leaving you lying there on the edge. You prop yourself up on your elbows, He reaches once again from your underwear, looking up devilishly at you from between your legs as he rolls it down your legs, baring you to the room. You shiver as the cold air hits your pussy, still sensitive from your almost-orgasm a minute ago. 

He presses a kiss inside your knee, never breaking eye contact with you as he works his way up. It’s only as he’s peppering kisses along your thigh that some common sense re-enters your mind.

“Peter - isn’t this Harry’s room? His bed? Maybe we shouldn’t -”

Peter groans. “Please don’t say Harry’s name when I’m about to go down on you,” he says. His breath tickles your cunt, and you gasp for air. He chuckles, and you know he loves having this effect on you. Before you can say anything else, he buries his head between your thighs, and suddenly nothing else matters. 

He closes his lips around your clit, making your toes curl and your entire body arch, because finally. Every movement of his tongue against your pussy makes you tense anew, new waves of pleasure shooting directly to your core. Your hands reach for something, anything, before finally finding Peter’s hair between your legs. You grab onto the tendrils of brunette hair, eliciting a groan out of him. The vibrations against your cunt are almost too much then and there. He opens his mouth more, messily sucking at your soaked pussy.

His tongue circles your clit steadily, slowly. You wonder how on Earth you can ever think about anything other than this, the feeling of Peter eating you out so effortlessly, while your dress is pushed around your waist, with all of your friends outside the door, oblivious. Your hips jerk, rolling into his face as he continues. He slides his hand up then, sinking two fingers knuckle deep once again into the tightness of your hole. Your breath hitches in your throat. He crooks his fingers, curling them inside you, his tongue never letting up on your clit. He finds a comfortable, unrelenting rhythm, causing your spine to arch and your entire body to seize. You moan, not caring whether anyone outside the door heard you, because it’s too much, it’s everything -

“Peter,” you moan, your voice weak. “Fuck, fuck - I’m - I’m gonna -”

“Do it,” he breathes into your cunt, continuing with his fingers. “Come for me, baby.”

One last curl of his fingers with his tongue on your clit, and the dam breaks. You practically scream, throwing your head harshly back onto the mattress. Everything below your hips is on fire, squeezing and releasing, your pussy practically gushing onto his face. You’re blind with pleasure, moaning as your cunt pulses and squeeze around his still-pumping hand. Peter continues to gently work you through your orgasm, sucking and lapping into you. You aren’t sure how long it takes for you to pass the peak and begin coming back down from your high, but soon you’re laying flat on the mattress, trying to steady your breathes as the remnants of your pleasure ebb and flow through you.

When you open your eyes, Peter’s face is hovering above yours again, evident of your orgasm glistening on his face. He’s wearing a shit-eating grin, and you wipe it off his face by pulling him in for a messy kiss, tasting yourself on him. 

You feel something poke into the side of your thigh, and you realize its his clothed bulge, aching behind his jeans. He groans into your lips, and you smile.

“Let me take care of that for you,” you whisper. Before he can say anything, you’re pushing him onto his back, rolling over him. Your dress is gathered around your waist, your tits hanging out the top, and Peter is far too dressed for your liking. You reach for his t-shirt, gripping the hem. He sits up, swiftly pulling it over his head with one motion, and you’d be lying if seeing that didn’t just get you going again. You’ll never get tired of Peter’s body, you decided - you had no clue how he was always so ripped under everything, he must be a secret gym rat or something - and you pull his into another kiss, pushing him back onto the bed.

“Just relax,” you say, as you begin to kiss down his chest. “It’s your turn now.”

He exhales, throwing his head back as you settle on your knees at the end of the bed. You reach for his belt buckle, freeing him of it and his jeans. He kicks them off, and you smirk at the obvious erection straining against his boxers. You want to tease him back, for payback, but you’re over it by now. You rip them down his legs, not able to free his cock fast enough. It springs forward, slapping against his stomach. The first time you ever saw Peter’s dick, you remember gaping at how big it was, and he just laughed at you, even though you knew he was secretly thrilled. Now, you couldn’t wait to have him in your mouth.

You wrap your hand around his cock, and he hisses at the contact. His eyes flutter closed, and you slowly pump him a few times, reveling in the effect it’s having on him. You lean up, pressing a kiss to the head of his cock, and his hips jerk underneath you. Precum is already leaking out of him, and you spread it around the head with your thumb. You continue to pump him slowly as you wet your lips, before pressing an open-mouthed kiss around the head and taking him into your mouth. 

He groans, almost painfully so. “Fuck, baby - that feels so good.” The words are strained in his throat, and you love it. The fact that this man can be reduced and molded so easily by your touch feels incredible. You take his as far as you can go, sinking you head down on his until you feel his dick nudge the back of your throat, almost gagging you. You pull your head up again, running your tongue along the bottom of his shaft as you do so. His hips buck into your mouth, his breathing labored. When you reach the top, you swirl your lips around the head, before slowly plunging down again, taking almost all of him into your mouth. You glance up at him, loving what you see - his head is thrown back, his neck arching, exposing his Adam’s apple. He’s red and flushed, eyes squeezed shut, biting his lower lip, eyebrows pinched together in pleasure. In that moment, you decide Peter Parker is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 

His hips jerk again, and his cock twitches in your mouth - you know he won’t last much longer. He does too, as he rasps, “Wait, wait -”

You stop, pulling your mouth off of his cock with a pop. You look up at him, almost innocently, and he groans. “Please, I need - I want to come inside you - I need you -”

You can’t say no to that. You crawl up his body until you’re hovering over him. Without warning, he grabs your wrists, and flips you over until he’s straddling you.

“Now, about this dress -” he rasps, his voice low and rough, “I think it’s about time we get rid of it.”

Before you can react, he reaches around the back and tears through it, not even bothering with the zipper, finally baring all of you under him. He tosses the fabric to the other side of the room, diving into your neck.

“Peter!” you cry. “You just tore my dress -”

“Yeah,” he says, nudging and sucking on the sensitive spot behind your ear. “It was in the way.”

He nudges between your knees with his leg, gently parting them as he settles between them. Your annoyance quickly dissipates as you feel his cock glide along your slick folds, coating the head of his cock in your wetness. 

You gasp, twitching as his cock brushes against your clit. He shifts forward, before slowly pressing himself inside of you. You both sigh together, as he slides in, and in, and in - 

“Fuck,” he says, almost sounding high and dazed. “You always feel so good - so fucking tight and wet for me -”

You nod, biting your lip and grasping onto his shoulder blades. He sinks another few inches deep, until he’s fully inside, bottoming out with a groan. You sink your nails into the skin at the nape of his neck, as he buries his face into the spot where your neck meets your shoulder.

He gives a few shallow thrusts, slowly rolling his hips into yours - God, you missed this. He begins to pick up the pace, thrusting deeper, and you let your head thrust back against the pillow. He grunts as he thrusts into you, matching your moans with growing intensity.

“Oh shit - fuck - hang on a sec -” he says, hooking his hands under your knees and pushing them up, raising your hips and giving him better access for him to thrust into you deeper. You cry out, the new angle allowing his cock to brush right against your g-spot. You begin to roll your hips up to meet his thrusts.

He reaches one hand up to take yours, interlacing your fingers. The gentleness of the gesture along almost sends you over the edge, until his other hand travels back down to circle around your clit again. You practically scream, burying your head into his shoulder to muffle the sound.

“Fuck!” you cry. “That feels so good - you feel so good -”

He murmurs in agreement, continuing his thrusts. 

“Please, Peter,” you gasp. “Harder, faster - I need all of you - oh my God, your cock feels so good -”

You begin rambling, losing your sense of self as Peter fucks you into oblivion. He’s gone too, whispering sweet nothings into your neck.

“Oh my God, you feel amazing - you’re the only one who makes me feel this good, baby - fuckkkk -”

His thrusts are growing erratic, sloppy, and you can tell he’s close. You begin to shake around him, your second orgasm of the night swiftly approaching.

“I’m - I’m close -” you whisper, your hips thrusting into his as he rubs your clit. 

“Do it,” he says. “Come for me, come around my cock.”

You feel your peak quickly approaching, your cunt beginning to pulse. “Wait -” he says. “Look at me - I want to see you when you come.”

You do as he says, your eyes fluttering open and locking with his. He’s flushed, his hair tangled with sweat. Your eyebrows pinch together, almost crying with how beautiful he looks right now. He gives one, two, three more deep thrusts into you, and your orgasm hits you like a tsunami.

You scream, and he muffles it with a sloppy kiss, never stopping his thrusts into you, chasing his own high. Your cunt pulses and squeezes around his cock, your vision going white. You dig your nails into the back of his neck, shaking with pleasure.

He groans deeply into your neck, shuddering as he comes, emptying himself inside of you. You feel his warmth fill you up, painting your insides. He rocks into you slowly a few more times, his cock twitching through the last of his release. 

He collapses on top of you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. You stare up at the ceiling, stroking your fingers through his hair down to the nape of his neck. You both lay like that for a while, allowing your breathing and heartbeats to return to normal. 

Eventually, as Peter softens inside you, he takes a deep breath and pulls out, rolling off of you. You shudder at the feeling of emptiness, and turn on your side to face him. Peter looks back at you from under his dark lashes, his eyes taking you in as if seeing you for the first time. For not the first time last night, your breath catches in your throat at how beautiful he is. You reach out, tracing along the side of your face and down his jaw, He gives a warm smile, nuzzling a bit into the pillow without breaking your gaze. 

“That was -” he begins -

“-yeah,” you finish, unable to say much more. Peter starts to say something else, before a crash and scream followed by laughter outside the door brings you both back to reality. Right, you think, we’re at a party. All of our friends are out there. 

“Fuck you,” you whisper. Peter raises his eyebrows. “What?”

“There’s a hundred people out there, and you tore my favorite dress.”

He smirks. “You dreamed of me tearing that dress off of you.”

You pout slightly, because he’s not wrong. “That doesn’t change the fact that I have nothing to wear now. Or that we just fucked on your best friend’s bed.”

He laughs, hard enough to throw his head back against the pillow. You snort, catching the infectious laughter as you giggle at the ridiculousness of it all. As your laughter dies down, Peter shakes his head.

“You know,” he says, his voice lowering, “I wouldn’t really care if people knew about us.”

You jolt, raising yourself onto your elbow and turning to him.

“...what? But you said -”

He shrugs. “I know what I said - when we started this thing, I - I know I said I wanted to be lowkey, that it was for the best that nobody knew about us. And, I hope you know that has nothing to do with you. It’s just… things are complicated for people who get close to me, especially with other people knowing about it.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What do you -”

“I know it doesn’t make sense,” he interjects. “But trust me on this one, okay?”

You nod, still no better off than you were before. 

He takes a deep breath, breaking the silence.

 “Okay, here’s what’s going to happen - you’re going to text your friends, saying you got an Uber home and didn’t feel well. Then I am going to give you my clothes, and I’ll get you home without anyone seeing. Then you can change and crash there, and your friends and roommates are none the wiser.”

You shake your head. “How do you expect to get out of here with nobody seeing us? And what are you going to wear?”

He smirks again, leaning in close until your lips are practically brushing. “I’ll tell you - but only if you promise to not freak out, okay?”

You furrow your brow, but nod. “Okay - promise.”

After all - what could he possibly be hiding, besides you?

*******************************************************************************************

Author’s note: I hope you all enjoyed this story! I think it has potential to be a series, but I’m not sure yet. Likes and comments are always appreciated! Also, for those who didn’t know, this is based on “Dress” by Taylor Swift :)

[saiilorstars]

In the Scheme of the Multiverse - Pt. 2

· Part 1 · 

Characters: Maribel (OFC), Tom, Andrew & Tobey!Spidermans, MJ, Ned, Strange

Summary: Three Peter Parkers are united to help cure their enemies to save one world. Maribel Jenavid, a Multiverse expert, aids them in their quest despite growing weaker as the multiverse cracks. In the process, she learns about her other doppelgangers, more specifically Peter 3’s best friend “Mar” who inexplicably cut ties with him. Maribel then reveals the secret her doppelganger kept that could change Peter’s entire perspective.

taglist: @ocappreciationtag​​​​ @arrthurpendragon​​​​​​​ @anotherunreadblog​​​​​​​ @maaaaarveeeeel​​​​​​ ​​ @stareyedplanet​​​​​​​​ @foxesandmagic​​​​​ ​​​​

Maribel’s Masterlist​​

If you’d like to be a part of this OC’s work/edits, let me know!

Part 2

Maribel couldn't take it. She really couldn't. Sitting around with MJ and Ned in the lab waiting for the other Peters to handle the misfits just wasn't on Maribel's to-do list. When they least expected it, Maribel teleported out of the lab…but she didn't teleport into the scaffolding either. She had other plans to finally put a stop to the nonsense.

"Where the hell did she go!?" MJ helplessly looked around the lab and even peered out the portal into the scaffolding. Maribel wasn't in sight.

They soon grew distracted when Ned discovered that he couldn't close the portal he opened up. They had the Machina de Kadavus in their possession so the portal needed to be closed immediately. It wasn't happening…

And soon their mistake was noticed by one misfit and were forced into a run out of the portal onto the scaffolding. Ned managed to open up a few more portals to evade getting struck but none of them were shut again.

With one last effort, Ned tried opening up one more portal only for someone else to create one right behind them. As he and MJ whirled around, they saw Dr. Strange emerging from the newly created portal.

"Uh-oh," Ned's eyes widened to the brim. MJ gripped the box in her hands tighter.

"Where is he!?" Strange all but yelled in the teenagers' faces.

"Don't yell please…" Maribel came out of the portal after him, looking worse for wear.

MJ lowered the box in her hands, her eyes widening like Ned's but not out of shock. "Oh my God, Maribel, what happened to you?"

Maribel was white as a ghost. MJ swore she could hear the woman's raggedy breathing from her spot.

"What do you think happened to her!?" Strange snapped. He was beyond furious as it was and now they wanted to play dumb about things? "The Multiverse is cracking!" He took the Sling Ring from Ned, along with the box. "Dying! Which means so is she!"

"Am…not…" Maribel's intentions to sound strong were sadly put on hold when her two words made her gasp for air.

Strange took no pity for the situation. He had one thing to do and he was going to do it. "See!?"

"Don't listen to him," Maribel waved the man off, "I went to find him—"

"And in opening so many other portals—"

"Shut up, Strange," Maribel sighed. She leaned against the rail and wrapped an arm around her stomach. "I brought you back to help…"

"And I am." Strange motioned to the box now in his possession.

"Wait, wait, wait!" MJ begged him.

"Before you do anything, Mister... Doctor Strange, sir, well... Peter's plan is working," Ned said, frantically flapping an arm to his right.

"What plan?" Strange said, frowning.

"He's curing them."

Strange followed Ned's gesture and saw the last of a green smoke clearing a little below where they stood. They had just cured Dr. Connors.

"Well, I'll be damned…" Strange said, taking a moment to look at the sight. Suddenly, his head flipped in Ned's direction. "Were you opening portals?"

"Yes…" Ned said slowly, "Yes, sir, I did."

"Help them," Maribel said to Strange, leaning her head back for a second, "That's why you're here."

"No," Strange snapped, "I am not here for any of you. I'm not a babysitter — that's your self-proclaimed job!"

Peter 1 dropped in beside them, yanking off his mask. "Strange, wait, we're so close—!"

"Skip it! I've been dangling over the Grand Canyon for twelve hours!" Strange exclaimed.

"I know, I know, I, uh, um, uh…" Peter certainly had no argument against that point. It was another of his mistakes.

Peter 2 and 3 soon joined them, both easily getting the gist that Strange wasn't exactly the invited guest to their battle either.

Peter 3 then took notice of Maribel's appearance and almost forgot about Strange altogether. "Mar…what's wrong—"

"Strange, you need to help them," Maribel told the other man again, swallowing hard. She didn't want to alert anyone but she really felt like she would collapse soon. "That's why I found you."

"Look, I am really impressed that you've managed to give them all a second chance, kid," Strange said, looking directly at Peter 1, "But this has to end, now. She—" he jerked a thumb over his shoulder towards Maribel, "—is a firsthand visual of what's happening to the Multiverse right now. It's dying, Peter."

"I-I know that—"

"No, you really don't," Strange cut Peter 1 off, his voice sharp, "Because I swear if there's one more crack, or if she uses her powers one more time, it's game over."

"Don't listen to h-im," Maribel said, her voice unintentionally cracking. She cleared her throat but even that had grown weaker. "I'll be okay."

"Quit lying," Strange reprimanded her, "This needs to—"

Peter 2 stiffened all of a sudden. There was a brief second where his body felt the familiar tingle he long ago felt the first moment he showed up. He turned around, his face full of dread as the Green Goblin's voice called from somewhere unknown.

"Can the Spider-Man come out to play?"

Suddenly, the Green Goblin swooped in on his glider with a swarm of pumpkin bombs behind him. Dr. Octopus stepped in to crush various of the bombs but it still was not enough. The Green Goblin stole the box right out of Strange's hands. One last attempt of Dr. Octopus had his tentacle catch the last bit of the infamous glider.

Strange acted fast with a makeshift whip and snatched the box from the Green Goblin. Instead of fighting for the box, the Green goblin spun his glider and crushed the tentacle keeping him in place then flew off.

"That was too easy…" Maribel mumbled just before all three Peters felt their spider-senses go off.

There was another pumpkin bomb lodged on the box.

"STRANGE, NO!" Peter 1 lunged towards Strange but it was too late. The bomb went off and pushed everyone away from the spot. Ned slipped over the scaffolding and managed to latch onto a rivet. MJ and Maribel both fell from the scaffold along with the debris around them.

Seeing Peter 1 go after MJ, Maribel summoned all her willpower to produce another portal for herself. In one of her lucky streaks, she managed to do it and fell right into it. The same portal opened up somewhere else on the scaffold but much too far from the floor to land comfortably. She fell hard on her back and head, letting out a strained gasp. At the same time, she heard a sharp cry in the air.

"NO!"

Maribel felt so tired; she couldn't move anymore. She hoped whoever had cried was okay because then she wouldn't have to fight her own body to lift herself up.

Somewhere else, Strange had gotten the box back and did what he had to. He raised in the air to start the spell only since too much time had passed since it was cast, it was far harder to keep it restrained.

"Where's Ned!? Where's Maribel!?" MJ cried from the ground beside Peter 3. They both looked up and saw Ned still hanging from the rivet but Maribel was nowhere in sight.

Suddenly, a wave of energy blasted from above. It rocked the ground, and quite possibly the whole city. Ned fell from the rivet with energy but thankfully the cloak of levitation came to his aid. It helped it land safely on the ground.

"Ned!" MJ ran up to him, throwing her arms around him.

"I'm okay! I'm good! I'm good!" Ned exclaimed, soon feeling the cloak unlatch from his body and fly back up to Strange. "Thank you, Mister Cape, sir."

The half finished shield could no longer sustain itself under the energy. It crashed down on the scaffolding, absolutely destroying what was left of it. In the midst of it, Peter 2 was able to help Dr. Connors off the scaffold before it hit the ground. The shield fell to the ground and rolled onto the surface of the Liberty Island, stopping on the water. Up above, the sky was literally ripping apart as interdimensional portals opened up for more uninvited guests to crossover. Even as he tried sealing them, more kept opening up — the numbers made it impossible to beat them all.

"MJ! NED!" Peter 1 cried for his friends.

MJ jumped into action trying to find her Peter. "Peter!?"

"MJ!" Peter found them first and hugged them both. "Are you okay!?"

"Yeah, yeah," MJ nodded, "But Maribel — she-she was falling too. Where is she!? We can't — we can't find her!" Even now, MJ frantically searched the immediate area for their friend.

Peter looked around as well, his stomach churning all over again. Too much debris had fallen, covering most of the ground around them.

"I'll find her!" Peter 3 said in a rushed manner as he dashed past them towards the debris. It didn't take much thinking to realize what had probably happened.

Peter 1, MJ and Ned were right behind them when Peter skidded to a stop, letting the others go ahead of him. His senses were going off again. The Green Goblin was getting up from where he landed. He couldn't let that maniac get even an inch away from there.

No one else noticed when Peter 1 ran in the opposite direction. Between the others, along with Peter 2 who had come to help, they pulled off any and every debris in their way.

"Hey, wait!" Ned exclaimed suddenly. "Help me! Help me!" He pushed a chunk of debris with all his might.

Peter 2 and 3 used their webs to yank it right off the ground. Underneath was an unconscious Maribel.

"Oh my God!" MJ beat all three men to Maribel and landed on her knees beside the older woman. "Maribel!? Maribel!?" She gently shook Maribel, repeating her name over and over to no avail.

"Let me see!" Peter 3 practically yanked MJ back to see Maribel for himself. "Maribel!?" He patted her cheek gently then cradled her head. "Mar? Mar, hey?" She wouldn't move nor wake up. "Mar!"

Maribel's head lulled instead.

Peter 2 bent down and pressed two fingers on the side of Maribel's neck. He looked at the others solemnly.

"N-o," MJ's voice cracked, her eyes filling with tears. "Don't…"

"The energy…" Ned looked up at the sky. The cracks were getting wider, the silhouettes of uninvited guests becoming more and more clear. "If she was connected to the multiverse…"

"Mar! Mar!" Peter 3 exclaimed, holding Maribel's body to his. It couldn't be happening again.

"Oh my God, what do we do?" Ned helplessly looked over at MJ. The latter had tears streaming down her face. "Maribel — she's…" Ned couldn't even finish the sentence.

Peter 2 rose up to his feet, straightening his entire body up and looked at the teens. "There's nothing we can do," he said quietly, his jaw clenched tight. The sight was unbearable; he missed home so much.

"Where's Peter?" MJ sniffed. "He should — we can't leave her…"

Peter 2 looked beyond MJ and Ned and saw exactly what was going on behind their backs. "We have to go!" He said urgently.

Knowing Peter 2 was talking now to him, Peter 3 looked up at his counterpart, his own face stained with tears. Peter 2 nodded up ahead. The sight was also unbearable and so familiar. They couldn't let that happened either. Maribel from this world had helped them reach their youngest doppelganger and even though she was gone, they would make sure that Peter 1 got out okay from this. As hard as it was, Peter 3 tore himself away from Maribel, entrusting her body to MJ and Ned, and followed his older doppelganger away.

~ 0 ~

Although it was a hard fight, and a close one, the Green Goblin received the last of the cures and thus finished Peter 1's task. Now all that was left was to deal with the never ending cracks in the sky and the uninvited guests…as well as the heartbreaking news.

Peter 1 could only gaze over his fallen friend's body. Maribel paid the price of his endeavors, just like his aunt May. He would fix what was left no matter what, even if the price was everyone forgetting him in the process. Dr. Strange made it very clear that even though he could potentially cast another spell to make everyone forget Peter Parker, it would not bring back Maribel. The multiverse had weakened exponentially and once cracked, it could never be put back together the way it was before.

Peter would still take it. Because in the end, he would at least be making the world safer which was what Maribel always urged him to do. Even if it was just one person he could save, he should do it.

And so when he left Strange to perform the spell that would make everyone forget who Peter Parker was, Peter 1 returned to his two doppelgangers to explain the situation. "You're going to go home now," he told them, "Thank you. I just wanted... I wanna tell you that... I really don't know how to say this, like…"

"Peter," Peter 3 tried to intervene.

"I want you to know that I…"

"You know. It's what we do," Peter 2' smile was strained on account of the stab wound on his back, but nonetheless a genuine one.

"About Maribel…" Peter 1's entire (beaten) face fell grim, "I don't…I never meant…"

"We know," Peter 3 nodded at him, his eyes shining with new tears. "Do me a favor and tell her family about everything that she did."

"Her family?" Peter 1 blinked. It only occurred to him now that Maribel had never mentioned her family before. As far as he knew, Maribel ran alone and was merely an honorary Avenger.

"They didn't know about anything. You gotta tell 'em what happened, what she did for us…tell them, please," Peter 3 urged frantically, "They have to know!"

"Yeah, yeah!" Peter 1 nodded fervently. "I will! But hey, you're going to go home and you're going to find your Maribel and…and you're going to make sure she's okay, alright man?"

Surprised etched across Peter 3's face. "What?"

"He's right," Peter 2 said. He would have shrugged if it didn't hurt his back. "Always keep your wife safe."

"What?" Peter 1 and 3 looked at their oldest doppelganger with the same wide eyed face.

Peter 2 just smiled lightly. He'd been waiting to drop that one and was more than satisfied with their stupefied reactions.

"I…I gotta go…" Peter 1 said slowly, the shock of such a news was hard to process when so many things were about to happen. "But, um, thank you…again…seriously." He hugged them both tightly. "Thank you!" He pulled away from them. "I, um, I guess I'll see you."

"Keep safe," Peter 2 and 3 offered their youngest doppelganger a smile.

"Find her family," Peter 3 reiterated, "Please."

"I will," Peter 1 promised.

Now all that was left was to say his goodbyes.

~ 0 ~

Maribel Jenavid

June 7, 1994 - June 24, 2024

Teacher. Mentor.

Multiverse Hero.

Peter 1 had no idea how to manage these kinds of visits. With everyone's minds altered, he couldn't attend his own aunt's funerals, much less Maribel's. He had to resign to come afterwards, so he did. He placed a bright sunflower in front of the gravestone — Maribel's favorite kind of flower.

Strange had been right. Even with the multiverse set back into place, it hadn't been enough to bring Maribel back. Once something was broken, it could never be what it was before.

Aunt May was gone, Maribel was gone, and no one else in the world remembered him. He felt alone and yet a strange feeling of liberty now that he could go as he pleased. His only lament was that his family was practically gone.

"I'm sorry, Maribel," Peter sighed. There was nothing else he could say to her now. What was done was done. He did at least get to Maribel's family — as Spiderman — to explain what Maribel had been up to. She would at least have them visiting her every now and then. There was no reason that both of them should be alone.

Peter could take his solitude so long as everyone else was okay. He just hoped the same extended to his doppelgangers in their respective worlds.

~ 0 ~

It took Peter 3 a while to get a handle on himself and the circumstances that led him back home. He presumed that he and Peter 2 had been allowed to remember what happened with the multiverse because they were already Peter Parker, but now Peter wasn't sure if that was a gift or a curse. Remembering meant that, yes, now he knew there were other doppelgangers of his…but it also meant he remembered that somewhere else, Maribel Jenavid had died. She was dead and buried somewhere, never to see daylight again.

He couldn't take it.

He told Harry Osborn, his only remaining friend in his world. It was a lot to take in but it did help having someone to vent to.

"I don't know, seeing Mar — that Maribel — and learning why our Mar did what she did…it makes me feel stupid," Peter said with a heavy sigh. He leaned back in his seat, meeting Harry's gaze across the table. "What?"

Harry was smiling knowingly. "I never bought the 'she just hates us' bit you started."

Peter rolled his eyes. "What else was I supposed to think?"

Harry shrugged. "Dunno. So, what are you going to do now? You are going to finally face her, right?"

The mere idea had Peter straightening in his chair in a second, eyes blinking fast. "I mean…" He had promised that he would go find Maribel. He sighed. "I mean, yeah…I guess…just don't know how to start…or what to say to her."

Harry had an answer to one of Peter's troubles. "You can figure out what to tell her on the way. She works in a diner in the Bronx. Think she gets off at seven today."

"How the hell do you know her schedule?" Peter said warily.

"Just because Mar doesn't want to talk to us doesn't mean I won't make sure she's okay," Harry said, "And I always make sure my friends are okay, even from a distance."

Peter could only look at Harry for so long before the guilt started again. He really did take the "distancing" very seriously and now he regretted everything.

~ 0 ~

It took him a few more days after that conversation to work up the courage to find the diner. He arrived at 6:45 pm, fifteen minutes before her shift was supposed to end. He pulled the door open and walked right in, albeit with a cautious step. His eyes raked over the diner and found there weren't many people. It was a random Wednesday night after all.

He went up to the counter where a dark haired woman was chit chatting with the cook on the other side. When the cook saw Peter come up, he pointed the woman to him. She turned around with a professional waitress smile that dropped dead the moment she met Peter.

Peter gulped.

Maribel Jenavid lived.

Her long dark hair was tied up in a high ponytail, a few strands framing her face. Her dark eyes were wide, her lips pursed.

She was alive.

Peter wanted to hug her so badly, it was a miracle his feet were remained grounded. "Hey…" His greeting was raspy at best.

Maribel visibly swallowed hard. "Hi," she responded in a quiet voice. "So…you finally came…" She wasn't surprised in the least, Peter noted. "I know Harry keeps tabs on me — the price of being ex-friends with a rich person, right?" Maribel grabbed a notepad and a pen from underneath the counter. "What can I get you?"

"No, I'm…I'm not here to order," Peter said quietly, "Just want to talk to you."

Maribel waved her pen between her fingers. "I'm working," her voice turned sharp all of a sudden.

"Your shift ends in 15," Peter startled her with his knowledge, but she pushed it away almost immediately.

"Well, I don't want to talk to you," she declared, "In case you didn't get the memo in high school, I'm not interested in being friends anymore." She grabbed her notepad and moved around the counter.

"Yeah, I know that's a lie," Peter turned after her, watching her make way towards the tables. "I know why you did those things in high school. Why you pushed me, Gwen and Harry away…"

Maribel scoffed. "Please." She slipped her notepad inside her apron's pocket and stuck her pen in her ponytail. She stopped by a dirty table to collect the dishes. "Honestly, Peter, the simple truth was that I realized we had nothing in common. You, Gwen and Harry were all brilliant and I was just the local spanish geek. I cut ties for myself."

"Maybe," Peter nodded, "Or maybe you did it thinking you were going to keep us safe."

"Safe?" Maribel laughed softly. "Okay, sure. Safe from what, exactly?" She carried her stack of dirty dishes back to the counter to dump in the sink.

"From your powers," Peter said flatly and watched as Maribel almost dropped the last of the dirty dishes on the ground.

"The hell are you talking about?" Maribel gently placed the dish in the sink, much too gently. She was buying time before she had to face Peter.

"You know what I'm talking about," Peter said calmly, "Those powers you're hiding — the ones you thought you had to hide from us. From me."

"I don't have any powers," Maribel said, turning halfway around, "If I did, do you think I'd be working as a waitress?"

"Having powers doesn't mean you need to have a specific job," Peter said, smiling knowingly, "But it does mean you have to watch yourself. You shouldn't have to watch yourself on your own. We were your friends. We would have helped you out, we would have had your back, Mar."

The usage of her old nickname did have some effect on Maribel. She sucked in a breath and quickly grabbed a random rag left behind. She started wiping the counter. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she reiterated.

"Mar, please," Peter begged her to stop for a moment. His hand came over hers on the counter, freezing her. "You have no idea what I've been through lately." He lowered himself to try and catch Maribel's gaze. "I don't know what to do except that I really need you right now." He finally caught her eyes and revealed his desperate teary-eyed face.

Maribel pursed her lips. Oh, she could never say no to him. "I'll see you at seven," she mumbled and pulled her hand out from under his.

Peter swallowed the lump in his throat as he nodded. He stepped back from the counter and watched Maribel go back to work. He would wait for her outside the diner.

When Maribel finally did come out, she was dressed in a long coat to hide her uniform. The way she looked at Peter on the street made him believe she had hoped — even for a moment — that he wouldn't be there when she got out. That hurt.

"I have to get home," she told him warningly. "I don't like being out at night."

"I can walk you there," Peter immediately volunteered and watched Maribel struggle whether or not to accept his offer. She didn't want him to know where she lived. "Halfway," he compromised.

Maribel finally nodded and the two started walking together.

"Is Harry going to jump out any moment now?" she asked a few steps in.

"No," Peter shook his head, "It's just me."

"Well, what do you need?"

"Um…sort of complicated to explain…but I guess I can start with what I already told you. I know about your powers, Mar."

Maribel side glanced Peter with a flat expression. "There are no powers, Peter. I already told you that."

"Except I know that's not true," Peter said, his nose scrunching.

"Well I don't know who is feeding you those lies because it's not true. I'm just Maribel."

"With powers," Peter nodded.

"Peter."

"I know it, okay?" Peter stopped walking, leaving Maribel to walk a few steps ahead. "And if you would just admit it then I can tell you that I want to help you."

Maribel let out a sour chuckle as she turned around to him. "I don't need anyone's help, Peter. And I certainly don't know who is telling you that I do."

"So you want to be alone then?"

"Yes!"

"No, you don't," Peter shook his head, shrugging slowly, "Because I've been there, and being alone when you're hurting doesn't do you any well."

"Is this because of Gwen?" Maribel's brow furrowed. "Because rest assured I have dealt with my grief alone and I will continue to do it on my own, thank you so much." She turned around again and started walking.

"I met one of your doppelgangers!" Peter blurted, forcing Maribel to come to another stop. "I got trapped in a different universe and your doppelganger saved me. She told me everything about your powers, about you. That's how I know, because of her."

Maribel slowly turned back, staring at Peter oddly. "What?"

Peter sighed. "It's true, I swear."

"I think you finally watched too many sci-fi movies," Maribel said, licking her lips nervously, "Because none of this is true."

"It is," Peter insisted, nodding, "I would never lie to you. But you want to know why I got sent to a different world?"

"You didn't—"

"Because I'm Peter Parker — Spiderman."

"—get…" Maribel's mouth fell open. "Que!?"

Peter ducked his head. This was not how he intended the conversation to go but here they were now. "It's true…"

Maribel was speechless. She eventually had to close her mouth just to be able to swallow. What the fuck!? She couldn't fit those pieces together no matter how much she thought about it.

Peter Parker — Spiderman!? Maribel shook her head.

"I know everything, Mar," Peter insisted, taking the steps he needed to come up to her. He rested a hand on her shoulder. "I know about your powers and how scared you were. You didn't want to hurt us, you didn't want to hurt anyone. You were brave enough to put distance between us and I'm grateful but you don't need to do that anymore."

Maribel didn't say anything. She met Peter's gaze silently.

Peter let out a heavy sigh. "Mar, please. You have no idea what I…what I saw…"

"You keep saying that," Maribel said quietly, "What happened?"

"Your doppelganger…she died. She, um, she helped us and then she died. And I had to leave her in that world." Fresh tears rolled down Peter's face.

Maribel's eyes widened in a second. "My doppelganger died?" Peter nodded. "Oh my God…"

Peter couldn't help it. He pulled Maribel into his arms for a tight hug. He did have to leave the other Maribel but he wouldn't leave his Mar this time.

Maribel was taken aback by the action. It was true that she'd been on her own for a long time now, and she definitely didn't have friends who hugged her anymore…and she always did like Peter's hugs. He was so tall and so warm — how could anyone resist? Slowly, her arms came up around Peter. She let herself relish the moment before the emotions got to her. Before she knew it, tears blurred her vision.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"No—"

"I didn't know what else to do. My powers are tremendous and explosive and I didn't want them to explode around you, around Harry or Gwen—"

"It's alright," Peter rubbed her back comfortingly.

"—and my family. I'm sorry, Peter, I'm so sorry," Maribel sniffed. "I wanted you guys to be safe."

"I know," Peter nodded, "Trust me, I know. I let you go because I wanted you to be safe too. Safe away from Spiderman."

Maribel drew away to look up at him. "I can't believe it. You're Spiderman?"

"Yeah…"

"Oh my God," Maribel stepped back from Peter, "This is so insane. The world is that small, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Peter chuckled. "But listen, you don't have to be so far from us anymore. Let me help you, please."

"I got a good handle on my powers now," Maribel nodded, "I just…I don't use them so often because, well," she shrugged, "there's no need."

No sooner had she said that when the ground started shaking underneath them.

"Peter…?" Maribel looked around and saw everyone else on the block clinging for dear life, confused out of their minds.

Peter had no idea what was going on either. He looked up at the sky and saw a crack beginning to open up. Oh God no. His stomach twisted. "No, no, that can't be right…"

"What isn't?" Maribel followed his gaze up to the sky to see the same crack. "Oh por dios," she gasped. "Don't tell me…"

"You've seen those?" Peter looked down at Maribel.

"Dreams," Maribel whispered, "I-I had this nightmare that I was in New York and…and there were all these cracks in the sky…"

Peter did a double take at her. She couldn't be talking about…no. That was impossible.

The crack in the sky opened impossibly wide and suddenly a long leg plunged through, crashing down on the road. People screamed wildly as another leg came through. There were odd markings on the legs and when the creature — who resembled a demon from a horror story — came through, it revealed a body full of the same markings.

"Runes," Maribel drew in a sharp breath. "I-I saw those too in my dreams. Peter, what did you—"

Peter didn't think twice and shot a web up, latching onto a building. He reached for Maribel and pulled her body flush against his.

"What are you — AH!" Maribel cried as they raced up.

The creature went after them. It would end up chasing them throughout the blocks of the city, narrowly missing them.

"What the hell is that thing!?" Peter couldn't finish answering the question each time they got a moment to breathe in hiding.

"I-I think it's that multiverse thing you were talking about," Maribel pressed her back against the wall, "How ironic that the day you come and find me and start talking about doppelgangers and other worlds is the day that some demonic creature comes after us!"

Peter would have loved to argue that point but the truth was right there. It was uncanny which only led him to believe that maybe whatever problems Peter 1 had in his world weren't quite done with this world.

"PETER!" Maribel screamed when she saw the creature up above them.

"Gotta go!" Peter exclaimed and shot more webs to flee with her.

"Where are we going!?" Maribel cried as they literally flung from one building to the next.

"Well, um, off to see some worlds, you know…" Peter gulped.

"WHAT!? Put me down right now!"

Peter did put her down on the next rooftop they landed on. Maribel pushed all of her hair back which had come undone with all the web flinging.

"Remember when I said I had a good handle on my powers!?"

"Yeah…" Peter nodded slowly.

"Well I lied!" Maribel yelled. "I don't know diddly squat about my powers in a fight! I don't do the 'fighting' and I definitely don't do it against a stupid creature!"

"And yet that creature really seems to want you, explosive powers and all," Peter jerked a thumb behind him.

"It's chasing both of us, let me remind you!" Maribel groaned then looked up at the sky. "What the hell is happening?"

"I don't know," Peter said honestly, "But I think I know who can help us. We're just going to have to do some long distance traveling…"

Maribel looked at him. "What do you mean?"

"Mar," Peter grabbed her by the shoulders, "You're going to have to teleport us."

"Teleport us? Teleport us where?"

"To another world."

"Excuse me? I'm not—"

"Mar!" Peter gently shook Maribel. "Listen to me, okay? I saw you die because of these cracks and bad people, alright? I will not see you go through that too. Trust me, please. We have to do this. I'm not losing you again."

Maribel hated the way he used those big eyes of his, all full of emotion and pleading and— goddammit. "Okay," she gave in, "How the hell do we get to another world?"

Peter smiled. "Through you. We'll do it together, okay? Just trust me."

Maribel nodded. "I do." Even with all the time that had passed since she last saw Peter, she still felt like they were still those close friends they used to be. They could go back to bantering about the best movies or the best restaurant in town or just tease each other about something stupid and it could work. Things were always just so easy between them and she missed that the moment she stopped talking to him.

If she didn't end up dying, she would not let Peter go again.

A/N: Sue me but I thought it would be a cool place to end it here lmao. Loved Spiderman, love Multiverse of Madness — why the hell not combine them?

[supernatural-lover]

😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

[vasiliapetrovna]

let's be honest, andrew garfield's peter parker would have not been bullied because he was "nerdy looking". i would've made fun of him at school because he looks like he's one step away from becoming a one man band who makes mediocre covers of The Door's discography in 2012. i would ask him if he does historical reenactments as Henry Thoreau on the weekend.

[k----a27s]

Can anyone tell I'm in love with T.A.S.M. Peter Parker?

[supernatural-lover]