ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 SUMMARY: flirting with your guests is a regular on your youtube show… but flirting with SPIDER-MAN hits different, especially ‘cause he flirts right back!
ⓘ CONTENT WARNINGS: flirting, teasing -> confident fem! reader ノ dialogue heavy ノ back-and-forth banter ノ heavyyyy fluff ノ couple of uses of y/n!
AUTHOR’S NOTE: wow, me not posting smut for once— fluff will appear on this page every once and a while. my guilty pleasure watch is “chicken shop date” and love the idea of spider-man flirting heavyyyy. god, i can’t wait for brand new day! btw, i don’t own chicken shop, that shit belongs to amelia diloldenberg, only using the idea!
NEW NOTIFICATION!
CHICKEN SHOP DATE with y/n l/n has uploaded a new video: SPIDER-MAN | CHICKEN SHOP DATE #214
(2 hours ago…)
it took about two years to finally get the man on your show… but finally, someone from spider-man’s personal life finally listened to you and got him on your youtube series.
peter? loved your show. he loves the guests and the style of the show and your laid back personality compared to the other shows on youtube. he always found late night shows too… forced, other people had weird questions, but yours? yours was perfect
the only issue? they asked for… him. so now, here he was, dressed in his spider-man suit, mask halfway pushed up to reveal his mouth and a part of his jawline, and a camera on him… steaming hot chicken and fries sitting in front of him.
and here you were; internally freaking out that you were really interviewing him, the fucking king of new york himself. spider-man. fucking spider-man. the wall crawler!
the restaurant atmosphere wasn’t tense or quiet but rather warm and nervous. maybe it’s cause you’re interviewing world famous superhero, possibly. but even spider-man across the table was nervous as he tasted the food.
but then, spider-man speaks the first words of the video. “you know… this is really good chicken.”
“thanks, we try to make the chicken at least some what edible… like me.” you reply to him, taking a bite of your own food; it’s pretty good, you will agree with him like that.
immediately, peter could feel his heart do a little flip thing that he’s felt before… but never to this extent. he doesn’t let it show though, he knows he can’t be too confident on this show— just be friendly, flirt back, and don’t overshare too much. “well it’s good cause i’m hungry. i didn’t eat before coming.”
you lean back in your chair, pointing to him. “so how do you work out? considering you’re a… human spider after all.”
he chuckles lightly, covering his mouth with the top of his hand before speaking, pointing to his own body. “the spider-like qualities don’t really… stick in terms of… appetite and stuff like that.”
“oh? it doesn’t.”
“no, luckily i’ve gotten good at maintaining sweat and all that jazz.”
[video cuts to an outside shot of the shop; nighttime with the moon bright and the lights of the chicken shop lit brightly; Y/N’S CHICKEN. ON 45TH STREET]
peter takes another bite of the chicken as he swirls the straw around in his chosen drink. “you know… we’ve probably met before.”
“oh yeah?” you challenge. “you think as spider-man we’ve met or as your secret alias thing?”
he shrugs as he scratches his left cheek with his fingers. “i mean, probably as both… sorry if i didn’t remember you if i did save you once; i save a lot of people.”
you put your chin on your hand as you completely ignore his defense. “you have been avoiding me”
“have i?” he asks, tilting his head.
you nodded. “yeah, been trying to get you on this show for two years up to this point… seems like my calls to your manager didn’t reach you.”
he nods his head even if he doesn’t agree with your sentiment. “i don’t have a manager darling, it’s just me… who the hell would you have called in the first place?”
“i tried the daily bugle but they hung up on me, i think i was talking to jameson himself."
“yeah… he doesn’t really… fancy me all too much.”
putting a chicken strip into your mouth, you chew on it before putting your knuckles to your mouth, swallowing it as you respond. “oh that’s so unfortunate.”
peter points his french-fry holding fingers at you in agreement. “that’s what i tell them because i don’t do anything wrong and yet they have an issue!”
“i mean, what did you do to them?” you question, a teasing tone to your words.
peter shrugs. “i don’t know.”
“did you like, fuck jameson’s wife? flirt with his daughter in front of him?” you ask, adding possible solutions to j.jonah jameson’s undying hatred for the wallcrawler.
“not that i know of.” he answers, sipping from his straw. “spider-man doesn’t usually do the hit it and quit it stuff so i know i didn’t do anything to him personally.”
you crack a smile at his words. “so spider-man doesn’t fuck a civillian he saves if they ask hard enough?”
he shakes his head. “nope… not trying to have a son or daughter running ‘round and it uh… reveals my secret identity because of dna and everything… plus, not trying to give my powers away.”
“selfish.”
“reasonable.”
[video cuts to a woman’s arm, your arm, putting the fries from the deep-fry basket onto the tray, ready to serve to the next customer]
you eat a couple of fries before steering the conversation somewhere else. “so we all know new york is the weirdest of weird places… what’s the weirdest thing you’ve interrupted while swinging?”
spider-man chuckles behind his glass. “uhhhh… basically, i accidentally landed… right in between a proposing couple on one of those garden rooftops.”
“was there like a serial killer on the roof? what happened?” you ask.
“uh… the ring rolled off the roof and the guy nearly fell trying to catch it.” he explains, rubbing the back of his head as he chews on a fry, taking the time to scratch the back of his neck as well. “they still got engaged.”
“did you go to the wedding?”
“no, wasn’t on the guest list.”
you click your tongue. “you know; i would invite you to my wedding.”
he smiles bold. “oh really? you think i could look good in a suit?”
“you’d be invited as the groom and not a guest.” your tone deadpan despite the smile on your lips.
peter nods in understanding— he tries to hide his blush at flirty words. “ohhhhh.”
[video cuts to a close up on the chicken’s shop menu… damn, in this economy, it’s surprising to see a 4 chicken tender and fry combo for seven dollars. the sound of the kitchen can be heard in the background.]
peter fixes his mask to make sure it doesn’t reveal too much before he speaks again. “i noticed that the colors of the show’s logo match my suit.”
you look up, smiling as you eat another piece of chicken. “oh yeah?” you cover your mouth to swallow before finishing your sentence. “you like it?”
“it’s an honor, sweetheart.”
[video cuts to the grill inside the kitchen, two pieces of texas toast sitting butter side down]
“is it true that all superheroes are fuckboys and fuckgirls?” you ask.
peter looks up at you, eyes of the mask widening before shortly going back to regular position, waving his hand is dismay. “nah, most of us are professional. i know the human torch and hawkeye and that knobhead from bludhaven, what’s his name?”
“nightwing?” you finish his question, remembering that black hair bird gymnast sitting across from you.
he snaps his finger. “yeah, that kid… bro, he gives us a bad rep ‘cause he’s always flirting with his fans… it’s like totally crazy the type of stuff he pulls with ‘em.”
“so you, spider-man, don’t flirt with your own fans?” you question him, raising a brow as you lean forward on the table.
the webslinger shakes his head. “nope. not trying to have my name trending for flirting.”
“well i’m a fan and you’re flirting with me right now…”
“if you wanna spin it like that.”
[video cuts to the soda station in the shop; all sodas are available except mountain dew. a sticky-note is placed at the bottom of the dispensary, reading very simply; out of order.]
“i’ve asked people out a lot.” you begin, swinging around the half-eaten chicken strip in your fingers. “and have gotten no’s back.”
peter interrupts with a smile, pointing to the ceiling of the restaurant. “in this way or like… in a real way?”
“no… no…” you begin, tilting his head at the accusation that this restaurant is not a real way. how dare he. “well, this is real, but…”
then, spider-man busts out into a fit of laughter— serious, unbridled laughter. you just made spider-man laugh and there’s something good about that. there’s something sweet about having that power over someone so much more powerful.
“stop laughing damn it!” you say, reaching over and smacking the back of his shoulder, which only makes him laugh. “this is a serious issue!”
“oh i know it is, y/n, that’s why i’m laughing!” he tries to explain in between laughs, finally leaning back in his chair.
you look at him dumbfounded, but a smile doesn’t stop from appearing on your lips. “you think you’re so fucking funny.”
“i think you’re funny, darling.”
[video cuts to a still shot of the outside deal; free desert with a purchase over $10, and in this restaurant? that’s pretty easy to get… so obviously, free cakes and free brownies were flying all over that damn restaurant]
“are you seeing anyone?” you ask him, stealing one of his fries.
he shakes his head as he does the same to you; stealing a much bigger fry than you stole. “not right now, it’s kinda hard to date with the whole… superhero stuff. why? you seeing if you have a chance?”
“maybe, why does that matter?” you press him, leaning back and crossing your arms.
he mirrors your action; key sign of someone liking you, mirroring your actions. “just asking. it’s hard to try to be on a date and suddenly an idiot is trying to rob a bank down fifth avenue.” he explains, motioning with his hand.
you nod along. “are you feeling any danger around us?”
he puts his fingers on his chin; surprisingly? his spidey-sense haven’t gone off… maybe this is a sign. “nope, for once, my little inside radar ain’t going off.”
and you almost read his mind perfect. “aye, it’s a sign we are made for each other.”
“can you handle heights?” he asks.
you shrug. “possibly, why you asking?” you question.
peter sticks his tongue to the inside of his cheek, visible to the screen as he scratches the back of his neck, a blush clear on his cheeks. “maybe after this, i can show you what a little web slinging with spidey is like.”
[video cuts to an empty version of the chicken shop; the red and white tables nice and pretty, the lights vibrant inside the restaurant, in the background has two workers behind the cash register.]
“so… as we wrap up our date… speak now or forever hold your truth, they say.” you offer him before sipping on your drink.
peter thinks for a minute before grinning bright. “eh, you have my number, this won’t be our last date.”
4,912 COMMENTS (sort by…)
add a comment…
user431 (2 hours ago)
i have never seen two ppl flirt so hard before and go absolutely no where | 34K likes
user01 (2 hours ago)
HE WAS BEATING HER AT HER OWN GAME AND I LOVED EVERY SECOND OF IT | 12K likes
╰ user43: she wasn’t trying to stop it either
╰ user04: when he asked her to go web-slinging 🫦
user69 (2 hours ago)
would pay exponential amounts of money to see an uncut version of this | 128K likes
user420 (2 hours ago)
the random nightwing stray???? 😭😭😭 | 44K likes
╰ user55: bro is FUMING
╰ user67: he’s impregnating one of his fans just to make spidey more mad at the fact that he’s giving them a bad rep
╰ user58: and i’m the baby mama!
╰ user06: sorry! the baby mama is actually me!
╰ user88: i need to see them interact!
╰ user77: i fear spidey is putting him through the wall
johnnystorm (2 hours ago)
this motherfucker has no game istg | 404K likes
╰ mattthelawyer: how does he have the bucket right in front of him and yet still not score???
╰ johnnystorm: dawg idk, this is baddd
╰ user100: how tf is matt the blind lawyer typing if he can’t see shit?
╰ user44: user100 never heard of asking siri to read the comment out loud
user667 (2 hours ago)
their sex tape would go crazy | 69K likes
user111 (2 hours ago)
watching this after being broken up with was NOT a good idea lmaooooo | 101K likes
ironfistyoass (2 hours ago)
and i thought i was bad at realizing flirting attempts | 91K likes
╰ user789: it’s not even that he’s bad at flirting, it’s just that neither of them will fucking admit shit 😭
peterbparker (2 hours ago)
loved this one y/n, great interview! | 1K likes
╰ user123: jolly aah mf
╰ user457: basic ass comment
╰ user843: ur that mf from the daily bugle, u know spider-man, get this motherfucker on game or tell him to pass the controller!
╰ peterbparker: you think I know spidey personally?
╰ user843: yes. get on it.
user674 (2 hours ago)
i love how he says he doesn’t want to be on trending for flirting with fans and yet he’s been #1 trending for 2 hours bc of this interview 😭😭 | 690K likes
user999 (2 hours ago)
imagine if they become the next rpf final boss like superman and lois lane | 55K likes
╰ user885: their sex tape didn’t leak, this couple’s will atp
╰ user798: still can’t believe they actually became a thing
╰ user321: loved how they went from denying their relationship every single time they were seen out together. the amount of times “i’m just interviewing him” was said is insaneee
╰ user541: everyone remembers that casino video leaking of batman, wonder woman, green lantern, and the flash putting bets of them ‘cause even they were shipping them!
╰ user999: everyone was there for the sky photos
╰ user561: when they got photographed fucking on the daily planet logo 😭😭😭
masterlist is here! click here for more!
ⓘ KENTLUV3R’S WORK. all my fanfics (not the characters) is my very own, coming from my own efforts and my time. do not copy my work, rewrite it, shove it through an ai machine and shit out slop, and don’t repost to wattpad/ao3/c.ai!
☆ synopsis: Peter gets a normal coffee from a normal shop on a normal day. Then he hears his name.
☆ warnings: none (i think?), brand new day peter parker, loneliness, room temp coffee? mdni
author’s note: this is my first tumblr post. (it’s short - does it count?) hello!
It was just another order. Another name. You weren’t aware it would stall the queue, leave people piling into the doorway with frustrated huffs, or that you’d tipped his world completely, irreparably, on its axis.
“Coffee with milk.” You’d called, fighting with the plastic lid as you pried it over the cardboard corners. You’d passed it out to whatever hand reached for it first, glanced up politely, mind preoccupied with the next order until recognition derailed your rhythm.
“Oh, hey Peter.” A casual, polite hello. A nod to an acquaintance. A friendly smile. “How’ve you been?” A perfectly normal thing to say to a classmate. An unobtrusive, socially acceptable remark.
Or so you’d thought.
The gratitude tumbling out from his mouth was cut short, and he chocked on the rushed thank you so much! As he reached out for his order. His entire body grew still, like he’d been isolated in a pocket of time. Frozen. His muscles locked up, his eyes widened, and his fingers hovered over yours, close enough to feel the heat emanating through the cardboard. As he blinked slowly, pulling himself back into the present, something painful flashed through his expression. It was instantaneous, barely noticeable, but your smile turned cautious.
You waited, coffee extended between you like peace offering, until the silence became unsettling. Your eyes flitted from the man before you to the line of customers growing behind him.
Had you said something wrong?
He mustn’t recognise you. Surely school hadn’t been that long ago…Was it only you that remembered the quiet, smart, nervous boy who always saved a hello or goodbye for you each day? You’d shared a project together in your last year, hadn’t you?
“Sorry.” You began, conscious of yourself, the queue, and his evident discomfort. “I didn’t mean to-sorry. Your drink.” You presented the little cup again, as if maybe he hadn’t noticed it the first time, and felt his fingers flex over yours.
He was trembling.
Beneath the harsh lights of the coffee shop his wide-eyes seemed bug-like. He took the cup, but didn’t withdraw, and his lips parted and pressed together like he was trying to say something.
“Are you feeling alright?” You ask.
“What did you just say?” It came out as a pant. Almost a whisper. Though the urgency was sharp.
Someone behind him cleared their throat irritably. You glanced over his shoulder and started to feel hot under the scrutiny of the collective stares as they waited for you. Exchanging your weight, you looked at the little ticket with his order - one regular coffee, additions: milk - and stressed your lip.
“I asked if you were alright.” Suddenly conscious of yourself, your voice, and the way he stared at you like he was close to tears, you weren’t sure what else to say.
“Before that.” Peter said.
“Um…Coffee with milk?” You looked at the little cup as if it had the answer, searching for a grasp of whatever it was he wanted to hear. His stare was unrelenting.
The line behind him was getting longer, bunching at the door so much that the little bell had stopped ringing, instead propped open by the bodies crowded there. As much as it was nice to see a familiar face, clearly just for you, it was coiling your nerves. Each huff, each glower, every tsk that hissed out from behind your old classmate made your chest tighten apprehensively. You were going to get in trouble soon. You were sure of it. You itched to move on.
“No-“ Peter shook his head. The wobble in his voice startled you. He sounded…pained. Desperate. You looked back at him, brows curved, and rolled your lips together. He seemed close to tears.
“…your name?”
“Yes.” Peter gasped, grip visibly tightening on the flimsy cup caged by his palm. Your gaze flicked between the paper and his face. His eyes were rimmed with red, lips parted with anticipation. Buckling under the intensity of his stare, you glanced away.
“…Peter?” You offered weakly, unsure what else you’d possibly said in the few words you’d given him, until a voice cut through the strings of your conversation, and jolted you back to life.
“Excuse me, how long’s my drink gonna be?”
“Sorry.” You gushed, snatching a paper cup, a ticket, and snapping your attention to the next customer. “Y-yes, just a minute.” You rambled, and turned your head back to Peter, who washed his eyes over you like he was seeing you for the first time. “Sorry-“ you started, but you weren’t certain exactly what for. “Sorry if…if I did something. Feel better, okay?” You moved to the ticket, and then to the row that had appeared beside you. You didn’t have another moment to spare. “I’ll see you later, Peter.”
I’ll see you later, Peter.
The last thing you’d said before turning back to your station. Five simple, normal words. He’d heard them a thousand times. But that had been before. Now, they were words that cracked him open and punctured his lungs, like he’d been unable to breathe in the time since anyone had known his name.
He was washed out by the wave of customers moving from the store. The bell above his head chimed again like an alarm trying to drag him from a dream.
Through the glass, he watched you. Coffee, milk, repeat. Mundane, routine, and completely oblivious to his turmoil. Peter glanced at the paper cup, the liquid warm now instead of hot, and exhaled loudly through his nose. The traffic on the sidewalk dislodged him, and he was swept by the stream to his apartment, where he climbed onto the fire escape. He sat his coffee on the railing and watched it, like it might say his name all over again. It remained untouched, as if drinking it would pour away whatever impossible thing had just happened and leave him alone and forgotten all over again.
He hadn’t realised quite how little he’d existed until now. Each day without his name he’d faded a little more. It was like his soul was evaporating. Piece by piece, until only his suit remained and no boy inside to wear it.
synopsis: you’re still wearing peter parkers hoodie, but you don’t know it’s his.
a/n: I SAW BND TODAY ANON! AHH IT WAS AWESOME! and yes yes this peter fic has lowk been brewing, so i’m glad i’ve got this opportunity to post it!
tags: possible (but unlikely) spoilers for brand new day / not proof read
soundtrack: ‘hoodie’ - hey violet
—
Winter
The front door shakily swung open with a loud creek that made your head ache impossibly worse.
You tossed your keys and shed off your large jacket that was speckled in raindrops. You slipped out of your work shoes into your slippers and made your way through the shared apartment to your room.
There it was, hung over the back of your desk chair.
You pulled the hoodie over your head and let it cover your body.
The hoodie was an odd source of comfort after a long day of work, or when it was far too cold outside. But the strangest part was that you had no clue where it had come from.
It wasn’t even pretty, nor was it that functional. Broken zipper, scuffed sleeves, and small cigarette burns across the navy fabric.
Alas, you crawled into your bed, subconsciously chewing on the ends of the strings.
In a matter of time, you’d drifted asleep.
—
Spring
Peter was trying so hard to forget you.
Since the spell to wipe the memory of Peter Parker and he didn’t have the heart to tell you, he tried his best to keep away and keep you safe.
But, as if it were a subconscious action, he always managed to find you.
His legs would go on autopilot and walk him to your favorite cafe, where you’d be tucked away in the same corner reading a new book. Peter always made a mental note to read whatever book it was.
He’d go into the same little convenience store (which was 4 blocks from his apartment), just to have a slight chance of seeing you. Peters would always sweat as the bell chimed, signaling your entrance.
Often, he’d just catch a glimpse of you across the street and his heart would cry out for you.
But today was different.
Peter was seated outside of a small restaurant for lunch, his eyes wandering up and down the street as they often did.
A flash of navy caught his attention, especially the person wearing it.
You wandered across the street towards him, and Peter could have sworn his breathing had stopped completely.
His hoodie. You were still wearing his hoodie.
Peter watched you pass him, his eyes still wide and his heart pounding.
You turned the corner and the man buried his eyes into his palms.
The new found information was certainly not helping his plans.
—
Summer
Despite the warm New York weather, you still always carried the hoodie in your bag.
One day MJ asked you about it.
“Uh…I dunno. I guess it’s comforting.” You shrugged, twisting the draw strings between your fingers.
She nodded understandingly and returned to her sketch of a couple arguing. However, Ned wasn’t satisfied at that.
“Where’s it even from? I mean, it’s clearly a large hoodie.”
Your brows furrowed at his words, and you murmured another statement of uncertainty.
As you all walked back from the park to your apartment, Ned’s question continuously buzzed around in your brain.
Did someone lend it to you and you forgot to give it back?
Did you buy the hoodie? What for?
Was it yours fr-
A sudden collision of shoulders snapped you out of your thoughts. Some lady scowled at you, grumbling about the youth always being on their phones.
Your bag had fallen from your hands, its contents spilled over the sidewalk. With a groan, you made the awkward scrambled to get your things.
“Here.”
A soft voice got you from your thoughts again.
There was a young man, probably your age, holding out the hoodie to you.
He smiled a bit hesitantly, as if he hadn’t done it properly in a while.
“Thank you.” You replied, matching his smile as you both straightened up. Gently, you took the hoodie from his hands, not missing his slight flinch as you did.
“Most people would trample it. Or rob me. But nobody wants this old thing, huh?” You joked with a small laugh, hoping to ease the man.
He chuckled, shoving his hands into his pockets. “It ain’t too bad…Is it special to you?”
“Yeah, it is. I’m uh, not too sure why though.” You nodded slowly, carefully folding the hoodie and slipping it into your bag.
The man nodded understandingly. “I get that.” He slowly extended a hand to you.
“I’m Peter.”
You shook and introduced yourself.
“I see you at uh…the cafe on the corner of 58th and 6th.”
Your smile grew to crease your eyes at his words. “Really? I love that place!”
Peter returned your wide smile. “Me too.”
Your smile suddenly faded as you realized how far ahead MJ and Ned had gotten. “Shoot! I gotta run, but if you see me at the cafe, don’t be shy, okay?”
“Sure thing,” Peter nodded with a small wave.
As you rushed off, you couldn’t help but turn back for one last glance at the boy.
Your eyes met again and you waved.
Something about him was so familiar.
—
Autumn
Almost everyday, Peter would look through the cafe window in hopes of seeing you. Even when he was chasing a criminal, he couldn’t help but look for you.
Most days he was unlucky, busy, or too scared. But finally, today he was psyched up and had an aura of confidence around him.
You weren’t in your usual spot. You had a copy of ‘The Picture Of Dorian Gray’ balanced in your lap as you sipped at your drink.
Your coat was draped over the back of your chair, and you were wearing the hoodie.
Peter thought back to the day he’d given it to you.
After a double of chemistry in the freezing lab rooms, he’d grown sick (and worried) about your shivering and pulled the infamous hoodie off of himself.
“Here.”
“Huh?” Your brows raised as he passed it over to you.
“Wear it. You’re shivering like a leaf.”
You reassured him with chattering teeth. “I’m fine!”
Peter huffed at you, suddenly grabbing your shoulders and forcing the hoodie over your head. You yelped and squirmed for a moment, before admitting to defeat and sighing into the new warmth.
“Better?”
You nodded with a fond smile playing on your lips. “Thanks Pete, real thoughtful as always.”
Peter grinned back at you, cocking a brow. “Mocking me?”
You giggled, tugging the hood over your head.
A few minutes later, you’d murmured something that’d made his heart race.
“Smells like you. Which is a good thing. It’s nice.”
Peters cheeks had shone pink for the rest of the class.
You didn’t even know his name now, let alone his scent. But he never did change his cologne or shampoo after that day, feeling quite proud that you liked how he smelt. Maybe something in him hoped you’d connect the dots.
Peter finally cleared his throat. “Hi.”
Your eyes shot up and a smile graced your lips. “Hey! Peter, right? Sit down!”
He watched you bookmark your page and move your bag for him to sit.
“How’re you?”
“Ehhh, alright. I see you’re still rockin’ the hoodie.”
You looked down at your shirt, laughing at the fact. “Oh, yeah! I never take this baby off.”
Peter laughed with you, feeling a sense of normalcy.
The next hour ticked by, as you both engaged in simple, comforting conversation.
Peter picked up on all your old habits.
The way you fiddled with the hoodie strings, how you’d always tuck your hands into the pockets and how you would play with the broken zip.
His eyes flickered to the clock on the wall, and annoyance ran through him.
“Sorry, sorry! Ugh i’ve gotta run.” Peter sighed, grabbing his phone and jacket.
“Don’t worry about it!” You watched him silently for a moment.
“I dunno if I’m coming on too strong, but could I get your number?”
Your question shocked him, albeit he nodded without hesitation. “Yeah, yeah, sure, of course.”
He rambled on as he typed his contact into your phone. Peters phone dinged as you sent a little ‘hi’ message.
“All good?”
Peter flashed you a smile and a thumbs up. “Yep!”
You smiled right back, and it pained him to walk away.
After an exchanged ‘goodbye’, Peter hurried out of the cafe to meet DeWolff.
His heart felt a little lighter as he swung through New York.
Maybe it was rekindling a connection.
Or maybe it was knowing you still wore his hoodie.
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Summary: In a reality where no one forgot Peter and he got to go to MIT, he met you. You've been crushing on him for years and finally you get the guts to confess to him what you've always been holding back.
Warnings: None, I think. This does not contain spoilers for Brand New Day!
Word Count: 1.7k
A/N: Long time, no see! It's been seven months since I've written on here and honestly about as long since I've written anything in general. But I saw Spider-Man: Brand New Day today and it reminded me of everything I love about Marvel movies and I left the theatre feeling really inspired to write again. I haven't written for Peter since 2021! But I'm thankful because I've been wanting the motivation to write again for months and I loved writing this fic this evening. I'm hoping to write more for Peter and write more in general very soon. Thanks for supporting my writing and sorry for dropping off the face of the planet for more than six months! 😅
“I’m going to do it,” you tell Ned, sitting across from him in the library. Your textbooks are open in front of you, papers spread everywhere, laptop starting to overheat from having so many tabs on it while studying for finals next week, but finals are the last thing on your mind.
Ned looks up from his own textbook, confused. “Do what?”
“Ask Peter out.”
If the two of you weren’t in the library, you’re pretty sure Ned would’ve shouted the words out loud but he’s trying to be better at maintaining a lower volume in the library lately and so, instead, he mutters a “Finally, then I can stop hearing about it.”
You reach across the table and punch his arm gently. “Shut up, I don’t talk about it that much.”
“You talk about it often enough that it’s annoying,” he retorts. “You’ve been crushing on him ever since you first met him in our freshman year. We have a year left before we graduate. It’s been long enough.”
Ever since you’d met Ned and Peter during your first year at MIT, you couldn’t help but crush on the dorky, sweet brown haired boy. You’d become fast friends with the two of them, sharing classes, sharing textbooks and studying together, hanging out during your off time. But relationships weren’t something you were interested in during your first two years in college. You needed to focus on the schoolwork, make the most of your scholarship. It was only now, at the end of your junior year, that you decided you finally needed to bite the bullet.
You didn’t want to regret not dating at all during your college years, especially if the person you were dating might end up being Peter Parker. If there was anyone you’d break your own rules for, it was him.
“Fine, good point,” you huff. “I’m leaving.”
Closing your laptop, you shove it inside your laptop bag and work on picking up all of your textbooks and papers and shoving them back in your backpack. Ned seems happy to see you go.
“Good luck,” he hums as you walk away from the table. You flip him the bird over your shoulder and hear him chuckle as you head towards the elevator to head downstairs.
There’s no better time than the present to find and ask Peter out, right? You may as well do it now while you have the confidence… even though, as every second passes while the elevator goes down, nerves start to creep in.
You don’t know if Peter likes you back. You haven’t particularly been open with your crush. You haven’t even gotten the courage to flirt with him and test the waters. What if all of this ruins your friendship and you spend your last year at MIT friendless and miserable? But what if Peter does feel the same way and your last year is your happiest yet?
Ugh, your brain won’t let you win.
You pull your phone out of your pocket and shoot Peter a text. Hey, where r u?
He texts back just as you’re walking out of the library. Hey just chillin at eastman court, u finished studying w Ned already??
Turning to head in that direction, you reply. Yup. Coming to find u now. See u soon 😝
Peter likes the message almost instantly. You spend the rest of the walk trying to convince yourself that this is a good idea. That this won’t ruin things. That once you get to Peter, you’re actually going to go through with it. Ned would be so mad if you didn’t and you kind of agree with him – you are sick of talking about your crush and not doing anything about it.
You see Peter before he sees you. He’s laying on the grass, his backpack beside him, staring up at the sky. When he said ‘chillin’ he really meant it. He clearly isn’t as worried about finals as you and Ned are, judging by his chosen way to spend time between classes.
“Hey,” you greet as you walk up to him.
He looks up, instantly smiling. “You made it here quick. Was Ned talking too much and getting on your nerves so you couldn’t focus on your study?”
You snort and sit down on the grass beside him, crossing your legs and dumping your backpack behind you. “No, I was the one talking and distracting him, actually.”
“You?” Peter sits up, crossing his own legs and facing you. He leans back on his hands. There’s a piece of grass stuck in his hair and you can’t help but reach up and brush it away. You don’t miss the way his eyes track the movement.
“Sorry,” you murmur, “Piece of grass.”
He shakes his head. “S’ fine. Everything okay?”
You knot your hands together in your lap, suddenly unable to focus on what you need to say. A few moments of silence go by. “Were you cloud watching?” You say, changing the subject and glancing up towards the sky. It’s mostly clear but there are a few clouds dotted around the blue sky.
Peter furrows his eyebrows, confused at your change of subject, but nods. “Yeah, just trying to rest my mind a bit. Been focusing so much on all my study that it was all blurring together.”
“Shall we do it together?” You ask, finally meeting his eyes again. You’re already moving to lay on the grass before he can say anything and when he moves to lay back down beside you, relief courses through your body. It might be easier to say what you need to say without looking him in the eyes while you do it.
The two of you lay there for a few minutes, staring up at the sky in silence. Peter is the one to eventually break the silence. “You sure everything’s okay? You’re really quiet today.”
“I like you.” The words are blurted out so fast that you can barely even register what you’ve just said. It wasn’t at all like you intended to say it. To ease him into it. You squeeze your eyes shut and take a deep breath. It’s out there now. There’s no going back.
“Oh,” is all Peter says and you feel your nerves start to increase.
“I’ve liked you since freshman year, actually,” you continue, desperately trying to save the conversation before things get awkward. Maybe he didn’t realise you meant it quite like that. “And I was wondering if you might want to go on a date with me.”
It’s silent again for a few moments and you can feel how fast your heart is beating.
“Oh,” Peter says again, but this time the word sounds different.
“If you don’t want to, that’s fine. I’m happy to just stay as friends,” you mutter.
“No, no, no,” Peter sits up so quickly it almost makes you jump. He spins to look at you, eyes wide and shaking his head. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just was surprised, that’s all. I didn’t realise you– well, I didn’t even think you might– cause having a crush on your best friend and having them like you back never happens to people.”
You push yourself to sit up again and look over at Peter. His cheeks have gone red and he looks utterly adorable. You have to force yourself not to reach out and touch his pink cheeks or swipe some of the messy hair off of his forehead.
It takes all the courage you have to push past the dread sinking through you and accept the fact that Peter doesn’t feel the same way. It’s fine. You can stay friends and it can be like this conversation never happened. Today, all you did was watch clouds together.
“Yeah, you’re right,” you nod. “Don’t stress about it, ‘kay? I think I’m gonna head to the dining hall and grab something for lunch, actually. I’ll see you around.”
You stand up and start to grab your backpack when you feel it being pulled from your hand. Confused, you turn around and find Peter standing too, holding the strap of your backpack in one of his hands.
He lets out a long breath. “Okay, I didn’t mean that like that either,” he starts. “I meant that I’m the one who’s had a crush on my best friend and having you like me back was never something I thought would happen.”
The shock of his words makes the grip on your backpack fail, the strap sliding from your hand and giving the full weight of it to Peter, though he doesn’t even acknowledge the fact.
“You… like me too?” Your words are quiet, full of disbelief.
Peter nods, face full of nerves but also full of hope. “Yeah, I do. And I do want to go on a date with you. I… honestly, I’ve been trying to get the courage to ask you out all year but I was worried about ruining our friendship and I didn’t wanna make Ned feel awkward…”
You chuckle at that. “Well, when I just told Ned what I was going to do, all he said about it was finally, so he can stop hearing me talk about it… guess he meant hearing us talk about it.”
Peter smiles, one of the smiles you love seeing, one of the genuine ones, the ones that only appear when he’s with someone he really loves, someone he really trusts. “Guess we won’t be making him feel awkward if we’re holding hands or going on dates without him, then.”
He extends one of his hands to you, then, motioning for you to take it. You reach out and he entwines his fingers with yours before throwing your backpack over his shoulder and picking up his own backpack with his spare hand. “Wanna go see what the dining hall has today?”
“Yeah,” you give his hand a squeeze. “I do. But this isn’t our first date.”
Peter shakes his head as the two of you begin to walk, swinging your entwined hands as you move. “Oh, definitely not. But we can discuss some ideas over lunch. I’ve got a few ideas in mind already, actually.”
“If us flying through the city via your webs is one of them, scratch it out.”
Peter grins over at you. “No, I’ll leave that one for our second date.”
Hey so I've already seen the new spiderman movie and I know it just came out but umm when will there be fanfics of Peter? Because I already miss that pathetic little man
By now I'll read Franks fics because DAMN that man is FIIINNEEEE
Find My Pitt Masterlist here
Read Previous Here!
Memories of the past come flooding towards you.
Moments that remind you of home.
Of New York.
...Of Peter.
Building in anticipation of his arrival.
And as it turns out, he's just excited to see you again.
To the point that he shows up at your work to surprise you.
...His arrival might just make your head spin, make your heart race as you come to a realisation, stood between Peter and Dennis...
Notes: wholesome fluff. slowburn. love triangle. meet cute. strong language. medical inaccuracies. meddlesome Ned and May. The Pitt x Marvel crossover. Jealous!Dennis. slightly jealous!Peter.
Word Count: ~4.9k
You were no stranger to stress.
No stranger to stressful environments or situations.
Being thrown into the deep end with very little to go on was something you were very much familiar with.
And you weren’t referring to the stress that came with too many exams at once, or stressing over if you had remembered to lock the door, or worrying that you had over committed yourself.
Those were all very minor in comparison to the stressful situations you had gotten yourself involved with over the years.
Spending most of your life in New York.
Living on the cusp of Hell’s Kitchen was not for the faint of heart.
Learning early on that at every tum and at every bend you had to be alert, had to be on guard–glancing over your shoulder, keeping an ear out.
Ready to sprint at the sign of trouble.
Ready to run away in the face of danger.
…At least, that was what you were taught to do.
It wasn’t necessarily what you were known to do…
Perhaps taking a few fights into your own hands. Turning to face the confrontation–when really you should’ve ran.
Perhaps that was why you got along so well with the nightshift.
Accustomed to a different sort of chaos. One that summered and bubbled in the quiet of the night, only to boil over in a split second. Dunked into the weirdest and wildest of situations.
From those shifts that saw you and Parker trying to wrangle the drunks who insisted that they hadn’t had a single drop of alcohol…
Or that time where you and Shen had to calm down the man that had careened into the ER with a broken leg after trying to sneak into a concert–only to fall through the roof. You had to try your very best to stifle the laughter as he was covered head to toe in glitter.
There were a few evenings–a lot of evenings. That saw you all in the midst of situations that would send any sane person’s heart rate soar.
But the steady demeanours of Abbot and the nonchalant composure from Shen, helps balance the energy.
Tempering the stress.
Crus and his chill, assured energy.
Parker’s reliability and sharp wit. Alongside Walsh’ quick thinking and confidence whenever she’d come down for a consult.
Mateo’s lighthearted energy, whilst working efficiently. Lena’s warmth and caring nature.
None of them took any bullshit. All of them were there for you whenever you needed them to be.
All of them never failed to help you learn something new. All of them never failed to inspire you to be better. And all of them helped you feel supported in the crazy environment known as the Pitt.
Despite the chaos the night would bring.
They would remain calm and level headed…Perhaps not always with the healthiest of coping mechanisms.
But to each their own.
Then there were the quiet moments.
The lulls in the night.
Far and few between, there were moments of calm.
And those moments saw the ‘weird and wild bunch’ to fall into strange conversations and debates to occupy their time.
Just like tonight.
You were still beaming from the news you had received early yesterday morning. Excitement bubbling within from the news that your friend Peter would be coming in a few weeks time.
A smile upon your lips without much thought throughout your shift.
Even after you spilled your coffee. Even after dealing with an asshole early onto the shift. Even after all the shit you had gone through so far.
Nothing could rain on your parade.
3:17 AM was peaceful for now. A short respite. And everyone was taking advantage of that.
You had just poured yourself another cup of coffee, snacking on a few little cookies for a sugar hit.
When you were drawn into a conversation.
Shen and Parker were in the midst of a debate. One that had come about after seeing some news segment from New York.
“Clealy Black Widow is the best,” Shen said whilst sipping on his 3rd iced coffee for the night, “She’d have to be to put up with all that bullshit”
“Everyone on the Avenger’s team deals with the same bullshit?” Parker retorts.
Shen shakes his head, “But she has to do that on top of dealing with the team–and you can’t tell me that they wouldn’t be a headache to be around”
“And here I thought you would’ve picked Iron Man,” Parker comments, she snickers lightly before adding, “You know who Abbot would totally root for–”
“Captain America,” they say in sync.
You laugh softly when you catch word of their conversation. Parker’s eyes darted to you, before dragging you into their conversation, “What about you L/N? Being from New York, surely you’ve got a favourite?”
You purse your lips in thoughts, “I’m a little partial to Daredevil and Spiderman”
Parker’s brow lifts in question, whilst Shen narrows his eyes slightly in intrigue.
“Bias, how?” Parker probes.
“Well I grew up in Daredevil’s territory–so it was always kind of nice knowing that someone was looking out for us,” you said, the memory of Matt popping up in your mind.
“And Spiderman?” Shen asked.
You shrug, “Well–he’s you know, the friendly neighbourhood Spiderman,” your words hold something more to it.
Matoe slides into the conversation with a wiggle of his brows, “I have a feeling there’s more to this”
“No,” your voice raises ever so slightly, trying to find anything to take you away from the conversation.
Parker’s mouth twists, eyes narrowing in on you, pointing a finger towards you in accusation, “See–your voice did that thing again where you’re clearly lying”
Damn Parker and her acute observational skills.
“So don’t hold out on us now,” Mateo adds, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Well New York can be a bit of a small place you know–” you try to rationalise, their eyes peer at you expectantly, whilst you talk, “So he might’ve–I might’ve–”
“Might’ve what?”
“Might’ve been saved by him…once or twice–”
“Seriously?”
“No way!”
“Did he swing you around?”
Their questions get thrown your way, curiosity getting the better of them.
Mateo sighs, “This place must be a complete snore compared to NY, no swinging vigilantes here”
“But that doesn’t mean this ER doesn’t keep me on my toes–” you add.
And as if on cue.
As if jinxed.
Abbot enters the conversation, a light sternness to his voice, “Parker, L/N, you’re with me–we’ve got an MVC, 3 minutes out”
You nod, already beginning to trail after him, when Parker asks, “So Abbot–who’s your favourite superhero?”
For a moment he was quiet, as his brows knitted together.
Before shrugging, “I guess if I’d have to pick it’d be Captain America”
As Parker passes Shen, they share a little high five, a small murmured, “Knew it,” whilst they grin.
Abbot raises a brow towards you, while you shake your head, “You don’t wanna know”
He chuckles softly, while you all get back into work.
…
Weeks go by.
While you’ve been busy preparing the apartment.
Trying your best to clear out your extra clothes that you had stored in the spare room.
Trying to make room for Peter. Doing your best to make it comfortable.
Shifting and shuffling furniture in the spare room, with the help of Dennis.
There were many times that he’d find you in the spare room scrambling to try and assemble furniture you had gotten from IKEA. While Dennis stepped in to help you–despite his growing dislike for the man he had yet to meet.
As the date drew closer, packages and deliveries would show up more and more frequently. Clothes, books and an assortment of other items would arrive. All stamped with the same return address and the same name.
Peter Parker.
Packages containing things he’d need during his stay with you. All in preparation for the Summer.
Dennis couldn’t help but notice how you’d open each delivery with care, how you’d set it out in the spare room with careful consideration and thought.
Despite knowing that was how you were–Despite knowing that you were considerate and meticulous by nature…
Dennis couldn’t help but overthink each action.
And with each reminder of Peter.
A discomfort grew in the pit of Dennis’ stomach at the thought of you putting so much care and thought into your friend simply staying for only 3 months.
It was a fair assumption to say that Dennis was jealous…
But in those quiet moments.
Those typical moments.
When you’d both settle in to watch a movie or tv show together. Those moments where you’d fall asleep on his shoulder.
Those moments where you’d join him on his visits to Amy’s farm.
Those ordinary moments where you and Dennis would simply be in each other's company.
The easy way you both seemed to get along.
In those moments he could almost envision what a life spent with you would be like.
For those moments–he could almost forget that the dynamic might change.
Could almost forget that in just a few days…
Your best friend would be coming to stay.
And Dennis hated how that thought managed to bring out the ugliness of his own thoughts–bring out the self doubt and worry…
Especially because it was over a person he had yet to meet.
Without meaning to Dennis had grown to dislike Peter.
Something that Trinity knew all too well whenever he would rant about it with her. The disgruntled energy only grew more and more as the date of Peter’s arrival drew closer.
…
And then there was Peter.
Now only days away from seeing you.
He was in the midst of finalising his own preparations.
Finishing his packing.
“Dude, you’ll only be gone for like a few weeks–you don’t need to pack your whole apartment,” Ned says while gesturing around the room.
“3 months Ned, I’ll be gone for 3 months,” Peter replied flatly, with an arched brow.
Ned only waved him off, before asking, “And you really couldn’t find an internship here? What happened to Stark Industries?”
Peter remains silent. Biting his lip, trying to busy himself.
Pretending he couldn’t hear Ned’s valid question.
“...”
After a moment.
Ned’s eyes narrow in on Peter, before gasping, “You picked one there on purpose!”
Peter’s head shoots up with a shake of his head, “No! I don’t know–maybe–yes–no!, ughh” he drops his head in his hands with a groan. Eyes scrunched tightly, mind whirring.
“You’ve got it bad dude,” Ned’s arms crossed over his chest, leaning back into his chair, “It’s been years–I thought you were over your crush on N/N?–especially after what happened on the Europe trip back in High School”
Peter sighs, plopping onto his bed. Clothes strewn around him, in a mess of trying to figure out what to bring.
“All I know is that the last few months hasn’t been the same without her”
“Really?” Ned questions, “Don’t you guys talk all the time?”
“We did at the start, but you know she’s busy and I’m busy–with study,” Peter rambles on.
Ned nods in understanding, before mimicking a little web shooting, “Oh yeah, and the thwip thwip”
“Yeah, that,” Peter agrees.
Ned tilts his head, “So what do you think is going to happen on this trip?”
“I don’t know,” Peter shrugs.
“What do you want to happen?” Ned probes a little further, leaning in slightly.
Peter’s mouth twists in thought….What did he want?
He knew you were studying. He knew you were just beginning your residency…He knew you couldn’t just up and leave it–not without good reason…
And Peter…
He had no idea what would come from a long distance relationship–had no idea what would be in store for you both if you were to end up together. Not sure what a life like that would even look like.
All he knew was that he liked, loved you for as long as he could remember. And that those feelings had yet to fade.
His mouth twists.
A sourness settling into his thoughts. As he remembers just a tiny detail. A small fact you had mentioned…
“Peter,” Ned clicks his fingers, snapping him out of his daze, before huffing, “I still can’t believe you haven’t told her how you feel.”
“I’ve been a little busy–” Peter said defensively, moving to continue packing.
Ned rolls his eyes, before replying, “Yes I know–between study and swinging you’ve been busy. But if being with Betty had taught me anything, it's that it's important to pick your summer loves carefully. And Y/N is not just someone to have as a simple summer fling–Especially because you’ve liked her for so long”
Peter groans in despair. Pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Was there anything you know? There, between you both?” Ned continues to ask.
“…It felt like it but maybe that was just wishful thinking,” Peter sighs, his lips shifting into a frown”
Ned clicks his tongue, “Damn man–I thought you told her before she left.”
“I couldn’t–She was chasing after her dream,” Peter sighed, before adding in quiet defeat, “And I didn't want to get in the way of that.”
“And now?” Ned lifted a brow.
“Now–Now I wish I told her just so that she knew…” Peter confessed, before his frown settled in deeper, “Did I mention she has a roommate?”
“And?” Ned asks, unaware of the problem.
Peter’s shoulders drop, eyes settled onto his open suitcase, “And he works with her, and I’m sure they’ve become good friends–”
Ned’s mouth forms in an oh in realisation, “Oh he’s a he”
“Yeah…”
“So this roommate of hers? What do you know?” Ned pulls open his laptop, ready and waiting to do some digging on his best friend’s behalf.
As the hours pass, Peter flits around his room to continue packing, to let out his pent up energy.
While Ned scavenges the internet for all he can about a certain Dennis Whitaker.
“He’s from Broken Bow, Nebraska–so he’s a country boy–Oh he grew up on a farm”
“First in his family to go to college”
“Works at PTMC in the ER”
Ned does his absolute best to find all he could about this mysterious roommate.
And that is how Aunt May finds these two, with pizza boxes in hands, her brows raised as she looks at them both in confusion.
Hunched over a laptop…stalking a random guy.
…Totally normal.
“What are you boys doing?” She looks at them confusedly.
Peter sits up frantically in a panic, “May! Uh–what are you doing here?” he laughs nervously.
Her eyes narrow in on him, before sighing, placing the pizza boxes down on the desk, “Peter, I thought we talked about this–it’s normal to explore sexual–”
He shakes his head rapidly, waving his arms, “That’s not–that’s not what this is!”
Ned agrees a little more calmly with a nod of his head.
Her brows knit together, hand propped on her hip, “Ok–then what is it?”
Peter’s mouth opens and shut–unsure of what to say.
Until Ned simply breaks the ice.
“Peter doesn’t know if he should tell Y/N if he likes her or not–and she has a roommate,” he twists the laptop around to show May, “This guy”
She leans in, observing the picture for a moment, eyes flickering up to glance at her nephew. Lips pursed into a thin line.
Leaning back she shrugs, “You’ll never know unless you tell her”
“That’s what I’ve been saying,” Ned agrees.
Peter remarks, “I thought you said I should be over it”
Ned holds up a finger, “No, I said that Y/N is not a Summer fling sort of woman. Not like what Betty and I had, yes it was special and memorable, but– N/N deserves something real. You gotta commit to it, if you want it”
May smiles in agreement.
Peter sighs, “You’ve been watching too many rom-coms”
“Sue me–it’s a great palate cleanser,” Ned shrugs.
May places a hand on Peter’s shoulder a small squeeze in sympathy, “Don’t worry–I’m sure you’ll work it out when you’re there”
He nods, softly, his eyes shifting to land on his closet once more.
“Ok–I just wanted to check on you both, and make sure you both ate,” May said, getting ready to leave.
Peter turns to hug her, a muffled response, “Thanks Aunt May”
She nods with a smile, stepping back, before leaving the room.
Then Peter’s eyes dart back to his closet, tugging his Spidersuit from its depths. He sighs as he holds it before him.
He hesitates for a moment–unsure of whether to bring it or not.
“What if there’s crime there?” Peter asks aloud.
Ned nods, “Yeah–Cause Spiderman’s known to be in Pittsburgh”
“Shut up,” Peter shakes his head, before he walks over to place his suit and web shooters, tucking it away into his bag.
Ned simply shrugs, raising his hands in defense, “That’s cool–you know, become the friendly neighbourhood Spiderman of Pittsburgh,” before his eyes sparkle as he adds, “Ohh, maybe you can swing through the city with Y/N–she used to love doing that”
Peter’s lips soften into a smile at the memory.
Those moments of swinging through the city, the sound of your laughter, the brightness of your smile. The way you’d cling to him, and squeal in excitement as it felt like flying through the air.
Those were the memories Peter held close to his heart.
“Yeah…” Peter said softly.
He only hoped that your life in Pittsburgh wouldn’t change the relationship you and Peter had sustained through all these years…
The only change he was hoping for–being that you might love him in return…
…
With Peter being only a few days away from arrival.
The spare room, now all ready and waiting for him.
You were practically brimming with excitement.
Counting down the hours until he’d arrive.
As your excitement grew.
Dennis’ dread morphed into a bigger problem for himself. Plastering a fake smile each time you brought Peter up. Doing his best to conceal his growing dislike.
Now with only 2 days to go.
It was obvious to most of your colleagues. Especially as the date grew closer.
In the midst of shift change, as handovers are made, the day shifters filter in while the night shifters get ready to leave.
Mateo elbows your side, whilst you go over some notes.
A wide smile plastered across your face–even humming a little happy tune.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile so much–” Mateo commented, with a raise of his brows, before jokingly commenting, “If you don’t dial it down, some of the patients might think you’ve escaped from the psych ward”
“Sorry, sorry,” you shake your head, but even then the smile doesn’t dim, “I’m just–My friend’s coming in a few days to stay over the Summer and I haven’t seen him since I left New York, so I’m a little excited”
Parker waltzes into the conversation, “And here I thought that the sleep deprivation was finally getting to you–”
“That’s not too far off,” You laughed at her words.
“So who’s this friend?” Princess pries.
You answer vaguely, “Just an old friend from school”
Princess’ brows raise, wanting to pry a little further.
Before you can indulge in her curiosity, Abbot pulls you onto a case, despite Robby’s insistence that the dayshift can handle it, Abbot only waves his friend off–insisting that it's still just before 7 AM, “Night shift territory,” he had jokingly commented.
You fall into a steady rhythm falling in sync with your attending.
Moving fluidly and with precision.
Smile dampening only slightly, as it shifts into one of concentration.
And just as you toss your gloves into the bin, wiping your hands with sanitizer. Jack elbows your side, with a raised brow as he jabs a finger towards the hub, “I think there’s someone here for you kid”
And if Mateo, Princess and Parker thought your smile couldn’t be any wider–they’d be wrong.
Peter stands by the desk, he shuffles as he waves a little awkwardly.
Your eyes practically light up.
Feet moving quickly, as Peter shifts to meet you halfway.
A laugh bubbles out of you, as your arms wrap him in a tight hug, whilst he practically lifts you up into the air. A look of pride upon his face, from seeing you in scrubs.
Having caught a glimpse of you working so diligently just before.
He was just so proud of you.
So proud to see you actively chasing after your dream.
Actively making them come true.
He remembered back in high school when it was all simply hypothetical. Simply an idea you longed to come true. And now you were truly making it happen.
Succeeding despite the pressure.
He was so proud of you. And that pride seeped into his gaze whilst he looked up at you.
You’re put back down on the ground, while you lightly punch him, “Oh my God, I thought you weren’t meant to be here until Thursday!”
He shrugged, offering you a lopsided smile, “I wanted to surprise you”
You laugh softly with a shake of your head, “Well–consider me surprised,” your eyes flicker up to settle on his hair.
The brown strands, a tangled mess.
And just out of habit–you reach up, fingers gently combing through his hair to try and fix it slightly, to tame the unruly strands. Just as you had done a thousand times before, after he’d slip out to save the city only to come back with very messy hair.
“What’d you do this time–Walk into a tree?” you teased softly. A slight tenderness to your movements.
And from across the room, Dennis’ gaze settles onto you. Eyes narrowing slightly. A frown settling onto his lips.
“That’s so cute,” Victoria comments mindlessly, before clasping a hand to her mouth muttering out a soft, “Sorry,” as she looks at Dennis.
Her words only further sink him into despair.
As your hands pull back from his hair, your little bubble is quickly burst while your friends and colleagues circle you.
Probing for information, all clambering over to meet the new guy.
Your mysterious friend.
“This is my friend Peter”
And in a second, he’s swarmed by your colleagues, Mateo, Princess and Perlah were quick to hone in on him, all greeting him, their motives made unaware to you, while you’re pushed aside slightly.
Parker leans down slightly, elbowing you softly cracking a teasing grin, “He cute”
You simply fluster from her words, shaking your head, “Don’t know what you’re talking about”
You duck away from her while you shuffle back closer to Peter.
You grasp his arm, swatting them away, as you pull him beside you, “So Parker–meet Parker,” you grin.
Parker’s arms cross over, as she looks him up and down, “And here I thought I was the only Parker in your life,” she jokes dryly.
Peter sticks a hand out to her, “Call me Peter–nice to meet you”
His hand stays there for a moment.
Before she grasps onto it with a firm shake, her steely gaze melts into a smile.
“This is Shen, Crus, our very fabulous charge nurse Lena, as well as Dana, you just met Mateo, and this is–” you wave Jack over, “And this is Abbot, the very cool, badass attending I’ve told you about”
Jack arches a brow, looking at you, “You’re just trying to gain some brownie points”
“Maybe…” you smile cheekily.
His eyes narrow, before shaking his head with a chuckle, “You’re lucky that works”
Grinning up at him, you continue to drag Peter to meet the other people you work alongside briefly, allowing Peter to place names to faces from the many stories you had shared with him.
From Samira, to Mel, Cassie and Victoria, to having him meet Robby, Jesse and Donnie. And so many others.
Before you come to a stop before Trinity and Dennis.
“Ok Peter, this is Dennis and Trinity,” you gesture to them respectively.
Peter smiles enthusiastically, a slight flicker–just a minute shift in his demeanour at the name Dennis…
So this was your roommate.
This was Peter’s roommate for the Summer…
He shakes Dennis’ hand. And whether it was imagined or not. Both of them feel a sense of tension between them both. Murmuring like a live wire in the background.
Trinity’s arms cross over, her head tilts examining him, her energy remains a little standoffish.
“So you’re Drowsy’s friend from New York?”
Her tone makes Peter falter ever so slightly.
His hand drops to his side, after he realises she won’t shake his hand. His gaze turns to you, in question, “Drowsy?”
You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, “It’s sort of stuck since I met Trinity in the hallway–She’s also my neighbour, so you’ll probably see her come into our apartment whether we like it or not,” you say a little pointedly.
She snorts, before remarking, “I know you don’t mind,” her gaze turns back to Peter, before relenting and shaking his hand, she justified, “Only cause you’re a friend of Drowsy’s”
“I really wish you’d stop calling me that,” you sighed.
“Never,” she grinned with amusement in her eyes. The memory of you and her bumping into each other in the hallway comes to mind.
When you simply couldn’t stop yawning, after having spent an all nighter unpacking, setting up your apartment whilst watching a movie marathon.
Ever since then, the simple nickname Drowsy has stuck to you like glue. Following you from your apartment and well into the workplace, especially when Trinity had realised you also were working in PTMC’s ER.
“So you’re here for an internship?” Dennis asks politely. Doing the best he can to sustain the smile on his face.
Peter nods, “Yeah, there’s a researcher here doing some amazing studies into genetics and the impacts of radiation–”
You pat his back, “Ok–ok, we get it you’re smart,” you gently tease.
His cheeks brighten, a heat crawling up his neck, before he stammers out in defense, scratching the back of his neck, “Not really–It’s you guys who’re really smart, the way you worked just before, it’s so impressive–I wouldn’t even know where to start,” he flattered you all.
Despite you knowing full well that Peter could be very resourceful at times.
You catch sight of the ER around you buzzing, and growing busier with each passing minute.
Glancing at your watch, you note that your shift was well and truly over.
“We should probably get going–let you guys get back to it, before I’m dragged into some unwanted overtime,” you say.
While Peter nods in agreement. Trinity, already moving to pull Dennis away and get stuck into work.
But his feet remain stuck, eyes trained onto you and Peter, unable to turn his gaze away.
“I was thinking we could get some breakfast–or dinner in your case,” he suggests.
You smile with a nod, “Sounds good”
An uncomfortable twist growing in the pit of Dennis’ stomach.
Disappearing for just a flickering second when you turn back to meet his gaze–a small wave, a flash of a smile, “See you later, Dennis”
Your heart raced as Peter’s arm linked with yours, but as you turned back to wave goodbye to Dennis, your heart skipped a beat.
Fucking hell–your mind freezes.
Caught off guard by the way that just a glimpse of Dennis’ smile had made you feel…
Eyes darting back to meet Peter’s trying to shake away your thoughts–struggling to do so.
As it spirals further into a state of confusion.
…What the fuck was all that about?…
Just as you leave their view, ducking around the corner to grab your things from your locker, Trinity can’t help but give Dennis a sympathetic pat on the back.
And across the room.
Princess and Perlah share a look watching as you leave the ER arm linked with Peter. Eyes darting over to watch Dennis practically deflate.
They murmur in Tagalog.
“This might change a few bets…”
“You’re telling me–I had my money that Dennis would confess this week,” Princess groaned in dissatisfaction, “I had no idea he’d have competition!”
…
While you’re walking out of the ER.
Your arm is still linked with Peter's, a bright grin still firmly planted on your face, whilst he holds your bag slung over his shoulder.
He laughs softly.
“Oh–” you raise your brows, “And what’s so funny?”
“I was just thinking about what you said a while ago,” he began.
“And that was?..” you probe him to continue.
“That your Attending Jack definitely has a similar energy to Frank”
You and he fall into a small round of laughter.
Then your brows knit together in confusion, “Hang on–if you just came off the flight, where’s your bags?”
He offers a sheepish grin, “I might’ve swung by your apartment…and slipped in through the window…”
“Of course you did”
You can’t help but smile at his antics.
You had missed this.
Had missed your best friend.
And yet–
Your thoughts couldn’t help but be torn between Peter…and Dennis.
Stranding you in the midst of a confusing train of thoughts. One you had never once considered before.
You had never noticed these feelings before–
Had never acknowledged the possibility of there being something there between you and Dennis.
Had failed to acknowledge that there was still the possibility of something there between you and Peter….
This was going to be an interesting Summer…
Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this part! Peter Parker has come to town and he's here for the Summer!! (Whether Dennis likes it or not). I loved exploring a little more of the dynamics of the night shift. As well as including Ned (He's just so funny, and I totally picture him having such sage advice for Peter) - tbh I'm picturing all of this take maybe 4-5 years post high school graduation, Peter's likely studying for his Masters or smth, just so it aligns with you being a med student/intern at the same level as Dennis (I'm not going too far into the nitty gritty details of it all) And having Peter's arrival totally throw the secret betting board regarding your love life out of whack. While Jack might not break all the rules in the name of justice, he can definitely bend them just a lil bit (just like the abortion situation in s1) so in my eyes he could potentially align with Frank Castle's sort of vibe...just a little -also sidetone, I definitely picture you being able to stand up to assholes during your shift, fuelled by the confidence of your peers and your history growing up in Hell's Kitchen.
Let me know what you thought or if you'd like to be added to the taglist✨
Ok! the next part is going to delve into roommate life between Peter, Dennis and you...Dennis also learns a little more about Peter...A little more than he bargained for...
Read the Part 4: Something Strange here!
Comments, Reblogs and Likes are welcomed and appreciated 💕
If you enjoyed, consider checking out my Dennis Whitaker x Former Army Medic!ReaderTread Lightly Series
Or check out my Dennis Whitaker Masterlist here
You were just being nice. He turned it into something permanent.
Dex's Masterlist
It starts small. It always does.
Benjamin Poindexter doesn’t notice you because you’re loud. Or flashy. Or even particularly remarkable in the way most people define it.
He notices you because you are consistent.
Same diner. Same time. Same booth—third from the window, left side, where the neon sign bleeds pink across the glass and paints everything softer than it really is.
8:12 PM.
Not 8:10. Not 8:15.
8:12.
You order before the waitress even asks. Coffee first, always black, always untouched for at least six minutes before you take your first sip. Then something small—fries, usually. Sometimes a slice of pie you barely finish.
You bring something with you every time. A notebook, sometimes. A cassette player more often. Headphones resting loose around your neck, not fully on, like you don’t want to disappear completely.
You hum sometimes.
Not loudly. Not for attention.
Just enough.
Dex sits three booths behind you the first time.
Then two.
Then one.
Not because he’s interested.
Because proximity improves accuracy.
—
It becomes routine.
Observation requires repetition.
He builds you the way he builds everything else—piece by piece, detail by detail, until you make sense.
You tap your fingers when you’re thinking. You tuck your hair behind your ear when you’re uncomfortable. You stare out the window when you’re somewhere else entirely.
You are easy to map.
Predictable.
Clean.
You fit.
And that matters more than anything.
—
The record store comes later.
He doesn’t follow you there immediately. That would be inefficient. Premature. But once he notices the bag—the same store logo folded into your arm every Thursday night—he adjusts.
Thursday. 6:34 PM.
You linger there longer than anywhere else.
This is where you’re different.
Less contained.
You flip through vinyl slowly, like time bends around you. You read covers. You smile at things no one else notices.
You play tracks at the listening station, eyes half-lidded, completely gone somewhere he can’t reach.
So he learns.
He memorizes what you choose.
Synth-heavy. Dreamlike. Soft vocals layered over something pulsing underneath.
He listens later, alone, in his apartment. Same songs. Same order.
It helps.
It makes the noise in his head quieter.
You make it quieter.
—
The first time you speak to him, it’s accidental.
You’re both reaching for the same record.
Your fingers brush.
You don’t flinch.
“Sorry,” you say, easy, absent-minded. Not scared. Not guarded. Just… normal.
Dex studies your face in real time.
Matches it to what he already knows.
You don’t recognize him.
That’s fine.
“You can take it,” you add, already pulling your hand back.
He doesn’t move.
“Do you like it?” he asks instead.
Your head tilts slightly. Curious. Open.
“Yeah,” you say. “It’s… I don’t know. It feels like driving somewhere you’re not supposed to go.”
He processes that.
Files it.
“Okay,” he says.
You smile—small, quick—and grab a different record instead.
Conversation over.
But something has shifted.
Because now you’re not just pattern.
You’re interaction.
—
After that, it becomes easier.
You don’t question his presence. Why would you? He mirrors you well.
When you’re quiet, he’s quiet.
When you talk, he listens the right way—focused, still, like every word matters.
You say things casually. About music. About the city. About how sometimes it feels like everyone’s watching everyone else, waiting for something to slip.
He remembers all of it.
Repeats it back later, not exactly the same, but close enough to feel familiar.
You don’t notice.
You just think he understands you.
—
You start sitting together.
Not every night.
But enough that it becomes expected.
He adjusts his routine around yours seamlessly. There’s no disruption. No friction.
That’s how you know it’s working.
You laugh once—soft, surprised—and he locks onto it like a coordinate.
Replays it later in his head.
Tries to find the exact sequence that caused it.
Stores it.
Reuses it.
—
“You always come here alone?” you ask one night, stirring your coffee even though you haven’t added anything to it.
“Yes.”
“By choice?”
“Yes.”
You watch him for a second longer than usual.
“Me too.”
He nods.
That fits.
—
For a while, everything is… stable.
You are consistent.
He is precise.
The system works.
The shift is small.
It shouldn’t matter.
But it does.
—
You don’t show up.
Thursday.
6:34 PM.
He waits.
6:40.
6:52.
7:10.
You are not late.
You are never late.
He runs through possibilities.
Transit delay. Work. Illness.
He goes to the diner.
You’re not there either.
Your booth is empty. Someone else is sitting in it, laughing too loud, disrupting the symmetry.
Dex stands there longer than necessary.
The waitress asks if he wants anything.
“No,” he says.
And leaves.
—
The next day, you still don’t appear.
Or the next.
Or the next.
—
Something is wrong.
Not with the world.
With you.
Because the world follows patterns.
You followed patterns.
And now you don’t.
—
When you finally come back, it’s not right.
8:12 PM.
You sit in your usual booth.
But you don’t order right away.
You don’t bring your cassette player.
Your fingers don’t tap.
Dex watches from across the room.
You look… off.
Like something has been removed.
Or replaced.
He approaches carefully.
Measured.
“You didn’t come,” he says.
No greeting.
No buildup.
Just fact.
You look up, startled—but not afraid.
“Oh,” you say. “Yeah. I just… had stuff going on.”
That’s not an answer.
“What stuff?” he asks.
Your expression shifts slightly. A crease between your brows.
“Just life,” you say, a little lighter, like you’re trying to move past it.
That’s incorrect.
That’s vague.
That doesn’t align.
“You didn’t tell me,” he says.
“I didn’t know I had to.”
You say it gently. Not defensive. Not harsh.
But it lands wrong anyway.
—
Dex studies you.
Everything is slightly off.
Your tone. Your posture. The way you don’t hold eye contact as long.
“You’re different,” he says.
You blink.
“What?”
“You’re acting different.”
A pause.
Then a small, disbelieving laugh.
“I mean… yeah? Things change.”
“They don’t,” he says.
They shouldn’t.
—
You lean back, watching him now in a way you haven’t before.
More carefully.
More aware.
“That’s not really how people work,” you say.
“You said you liked it here,” he continues, ignoring that. “You said it felt—”
“I remember what I said.”
Your voice cuts in, still calm, but firmer now.
“And I still do. I just… don’t always want the same things all the time.”
That doesn’t make sense.
It contradicts previous data.
“You’re inconsistent,” he says.
You stare at him.
Something flickers across your face.
Not fear.
Not yet.
But something closer to it than before.
“Dex,” you say slowly, “that’s normal.”
No.
No, it isn’t.
—
“You don’t usually cancel,” he says.
“I didn’t cancel anything.”
“You weren’t there.”
“I didn’t know I had to report my schedule to you.”
That lands harder.
Sharpened.
Unintentional—but sharp.
—
There’s a silence that stretches too long.
Too tight.
The neon outside flickers.
—
“I didn’t ask you to—” you start, then stop yourself.
But it’s already there.
Hanging between you.
He waits.
“You didn’t ask me to what?” he says.
You shake your head slightly.
“Nothing.”
“No,” he says, quieter now. “Say it.”
You hesitate.
Then—
“I didn’t ask you to feel like this.”
—
That’s it.
That’s the break.
—
Dex doesn’t react immediately.
Because first, he has to process.
Re-run.
Re-evaluate.
You didn’t ask.
So—
This isn’t shared.
This isn’t mutual.
This is… his.
—
“You made it like this,” he says.
You exhale, tired now.
“I didn’t make you do anything.”
“You—”
“I was just being nice,” you interrupt, softer but more certain now. “I liked talking to you. That’s it.”
That’s it.
That’s—
No.
That’s not enough.
It can’t be that small.
Not with how it feels.
—
“You said things,” he presses.
“Yeah,” you say. “People do that.”
“You meant them.”
“I did.”
“Then why are you—”
“Because meaning something in a moment doesn’t mean it’s… permanent.”
—
There it is again.
Inconsistency.
Instability.
Wrong.
—
“I’m allowed to change,” you add.
The words settle.
Heavy.
Final.
—
Dex looks at you like he’s trying to fit you back into something that no longer exists.
But you don’t.
You don’t fit anymore.
—
You stand first.
Slow.
Careful.
“I think…” you start, then stop, choosing your words more deliberately now.
“I think you thought I was something I’m not.”
No.
He knew you.
He built you.
He—
“You don’t actually know me,” you say quietly.
And that one lands.
Deep.
Because it’s the first thing that feels… possible.
—
You leave money on the table.
You don’t touch him.
You don’t look back.
—
Dex stays seated long after you’re gone.
The booth feels wrong now.
Too empty.
Too loud.
—
He doesn’t follow you.
Not right away.
That wouldn’t fix it.
—
He goes home.
—
The room is exactly how he left it.
Precise.
Ordered.
Controlled.
Except for one space.
—
A separate room.
Smaller.
Closed off.
—
Inside, it’s different.
Less structured.
But not chaotic.
Organized obsession.
—
Notebooks stacked in careful columns.
Dates.
Times.
Observations.
Your words, written down in neat, exact handwriting.
Your patterns mapped across pages.
Your routines charted in ink.
—
There are receipts.
A napkin you used once, folded cleanly.
A strand of your hair—thin, nearly invisible—sealed between two pieces of tape, labeled with the date.
Collected without disruption.
Without you noticing.
—
On the wall, a calendar.
The last month marked in red.
Your absences circled.
Your return noted.
Your deviation highlighted.
—
Dex stands there, staring at it all.
At you.
Or—
What you were.
—
“You’re wrong,” he says quietly.
Not to you.
To the space.
To the idea of you.
“You were consistent.”
You had to be.
Because he needed you to be.
—
He picks up one of the notebooks.
Flips through it.
Page after page of you.
Perfect.
Predictable.
Correct.
—
Then—
The last few entries.
Messy.
Unstable.
Incorrect.
—
Dex closes the notebook slowly.
Sets it back in place.
—
Adjustments can be made.
Patterns can be relearned.
—
He moves to the window.
Looks out over the street.
—
You’re out there somewhere.
Different now.
But still traceable.
Still observable.
—
He just needs time.
—
And you—
You feel it before you see it.
Days later.
Weeks, maybe.
That subtle, crawling awareness.
—
Someone standing too long across the street.
A figure that doesn’t move when it should.
A presence that lingers just outside certainty.
—
You tell yourself it’s nothing.
It has to be.
—
But sometimes, when you pass reflective glass—
You swear you see him.
Not close.
Not touching.
Just—
Watching.
—
And that’s worse.
Because he doesn’t need to be near you anymore.
—
He already knows you.
Or at least—
The version of you he refuses to let go.
Inspired by hate that i made you love me -- by Ariana Grande
― summary : you're a new investigative journalist at the daily bugle who's been paired up with its star photographer: peter parker. j. jonah jameson wants you, the new hire, and peter to catch spider-man for an interview; but the catch? peter's spider-man and you don't know! can peter manage to thwart the interview with the help of some friends, or does your big break come to end?
― chapter three word count : 1605
― author's note : guys, i think this might be my favorite chapter so far?! i feel like i flew through writing this (note that this chapter is a bit dialogue heavy)! it's def a step up from chapter two, at least i think so LOL so, without further ado here's chapter three, and here's the series masterlist, and chapter two ♡
chapter three : spider-man. . . and spiderman?!
You might be jobless soon. The interview with Spider-man was the only thing on your mind; that, and hunting for a new job. There were a hundred cafes in Manhattan alone, maybe one needed a barista? Because after this failed stunt, there was no way you could ever show your face at a journalist company ever again. Or even around New York. Holy shit. . . did that mean you'd have to move? You can't afford another apartment, let alone a house—
"Stop thinking so hard, I can hear your brain running on fumes from here," Peter chuckled to himself while he fiddled with his camera lens.
"It's kind of hard not to when I'm about to lose my job," You said pointedly. You didn't catch how Peter flinched at the tone of your voice. Harsh, but honest. And he was the cause.
The guilt ate him up inside, but he couldn't risk it. Not even after he took you out to dinner the other day to make it up to you for flaking. . . as Spider-man. It was a nice date— Nope, not a date. Just a totally normal meal between coworkers. Nothing suspicious going on over here. The tips of Peter's ears flushed red and he hunched his shoulders to try and hide them, not that you even noticed his dilemma; still completely oblivious to the goings on in his mind about the not-date-date you two went on. You were still grumbling under your breath about your job.
"Listen, I'm sure everything's going to be fine. We'll stop Spider-man and ask him some questions. How hard could it be?" Peter felt like an asshole. He was the one making it hard. On you. On him. On his reputation. On the company. If the hole he kept digging got any bigger, it'd turn into his grave.
You stopped suddenly and turned to him with a curious tilt of your head. "What do you think of Spider-man?"
"Me?" Peter pointed at himself stupidly. There was a hoard of people on the sidewalk that bumped and shoved into him every passing second he stood there like an idiot. Ah, good ol' New York.
"Yeah, you." You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow.
"I don't know. . ."
"You don't know?"
"I mean! I think he's fine." Peter kept his gaze locked on the concrete below his sneaker clad feet. He was sure that if he looked up right in this moment, you'd figure out who he was.
"Just fine?"
"I think he's cool! Okay?"
"Just cool?"
"Fine. I think he's a great hero who's misunderstood," Wow, way to be subtle, Peter. "I think the public gives him too much slack when the Avengers definitely destroy much more property than he has in his entire career. It's a little unfair, no? Not that I think the public hates him, but I think they can stand to give him more grace."
It was almost comical the way your eyes grew twice in size. "Someone's opinionated. I just wanted to get a feel for the guy. But, yeah, I see it now. . ." You trailed off, looking into the distance.
Your walk went on for too long it felt like. Every time you craned your neck up, the sky was empty. There was no webbed hero swinging from building to building.
"Yo! Pee— Random citizen! Hello!" You and Peter both stopped in your tracks when a voice called out behind you. Turning, you saw Spiderman in his signature black and red suit. Your eyes widened and you quickly took out your notepad.
"Spiderman! It's a pleasure to meet you. We're from the Daily Bugle, is it okay if we ask you a couple of questions?" You eagerly sidled up next to the young hero as you barely tried to contain your excitement.
Unbeknownst to you, Peter looked Miles in the eyes with a questioning look on his face. It screamed urgent as Miles jerked his head behind him. Great, another problem when he had a job to do.
Peter looked at you, whose attention was still on Spiderman, then back to Miles who quickly understood what he needed to do.
"Actually, it seems like I do have some time to answer your questions." Spiderman took a small step back and gave over his attention to you, as Peter quietly disappeared from the scene. Sure, Miles knew Peter could handle the problem just fine, but he was still worried. He'd have to do this interview, and fast.
Before you could turn around, Spiderman wrapped an arm around your shoulder and lead you down the block, ranting about his latest baddie take down.
"And that's how I kicked the Prowler's Barney lookin' butt!"
You walked five blocks as Spiderman continued to talk. Sure, he wasn't the Spiderman you wanted but at least you got something, right? Surely J.J.J could make do with what you have; but even you knew how ridiculous that sounded. You finally stopped and turned around, ready to see Peter trailing behind you but just like last time, he wasn't there.
"Uh, where's—"
"Oh! You mean that guy with the camera? Yeah, don't worry about him! He told me he was. . . getting you guys coffee! Right, coffee. . ." Miles didn't sound so sure and you weren't sure you believed him either.
"He told me we could take pictures later. There's a really cool graffiti wall nearby, don't worry!"
You were worrying. This was the second time in a row Peter went missing when something 'magically' came up. Where did he always run off to?
Right as you were about to text him, the other Spider-man crashed at your feet; and not too far away was the Rhino.
"Ahaha, two Spiderman. . . Spidermen? Whatever. I will get you both." Rhino laughed and started to scrape his feet against the sidewalk, ready for a fight.
"Okay civvie, time to get out of here." Spiderman quickly hoisted you up on his webs and swung out of the vicinity just Rhino attacked Spider-man.
"Wait, but I have questions!" You were silenced as soon as you got into the air. When Johnny Storm carried you into the sky yesterday, it wasn't all that scary since he was mostly stationary. But Spiderman swung wildly to get you out of the Rhino's destructive path.
You only just realized Peter left his camera with you. As Spiderman swung, you tried your best to capture photos of the ongoing fight. To keep your job, you'd do anything at this point. The photos were blurry but you could make out Spider-man and the Rhino trading blows, or Spider-man bouncing off of walls. It was worth it, and you hoped J.J.J would like it too.
Spiderman dropped you both down in a secluded alley way. It seemed like you ended up here too often since starting your job. You rested your hands on your knees and caught your breath. You didn't even do any of the heavy lifting, but clinging onto dear life and being swung about Manhattan wasn't an easy job. You looked through Peter's camera roll to see the pictures you took of the fight, and smiled to yourself. It wasn't a half bad job. Even if J.J.J didn't like them, maybe someone could use them in the next round of publishing. . .
You were snapped out of your thoughts when Spiderman spoke up, "Sorry about that. I'm usually much more careful about carrying citizens. My bad." he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, and you just laughed.
"It's okay, really. And thanks, for the 'interview'." You held your notepad up with a smile, happy you have something to show for even if it wasn't something your boss wanted in the first place.
Spider-man eventually showed up, and he thanked the other Spiderman for helping out; for getting this 'innocent' civilian' away from danger. And, just as you were about to ask Spider-man a question (just one, because one would be enough), Spiderman stopped you. But you didn't let his deterrence get in the way of doing your job.
"Spider-man, please! Just one question. I'm from the Daily Bugle, and I know you're probably not a big fan of ours right now, but I'd like to just ask you one question," You ran a frustrated hand through your hair and huffed. "Look, I don't care that I sound desperate right now, but I'm about to lose my job and I just need to ask you one question, please?"
Spider-man turned back to you and his masked eyes shifted as he 'sized' you up. From behind the mask, Peter's face fell as he saw your desperation. He knew you needed this job; needed it to escape your isolated uptown life, to explore the big city and finally get away from your parents. But he couldn't risk his identity being found out. So he sighed, shook his head, and webbed off.
"Dude, you lowkey sucked back there." Miles mumbled as he squatted on the edge of a rooftop. He looked down at the city and hoped that you'd make it through.
Peter groaned and his head fell into his suit-covered hands, "Yeah. I know. But I can't exactly tell them who I am. Do you know how much danger I'd be putting them in? You remember what happened to MJ."
Miles cringed inwards. Even though he wasn't exactly there to see it, the way Peter recounted the tale, it wasn't good. He didn't want you getting kidnapped on account of their secret identities. Then, an idea popped into Miles' head.
