part 1 - "Oh, I Can Do This All Night Long." || part 2 - [ only if you don't judge me. ]
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pairing: spider-man x f!reader
warnings: this one is ANGSTY. sorry not sorry ^^; This part is all sad no fluff. Maybe the next part will be better...
word count: 1.4k
summary: In another timeline where you’re psychologically connected to the physical pain your soulmate receives- you start to question just who your soulmate could possibly be, and how they’re even alive.
a/n: part three!! do the people want smut in this series or should I keep it to fluff and angst?? I don't mind either way. :) this was based on my own headcanoned version of Andrew Garfield’s peter, post TASM2 before NWH please enjoy! ~ Verdi🌻💜
Since you’d moved in, Peter had insisted on sleeping on the couch in the living room and letting you have his bedroom. You hadn’t asked, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer anyway. The apartment wasn’t very big, and there was only one bathroom- but you felt right at home regardless.
You couldn’t help but notice that nine out of ten times you managed to get out of bed, Peter wasn’t home. Even in the middle of the night. You joked with Aunt May that you’d seen him more often before you moved in than now. Every time he came home, though, he would always check on you first. Every time he did that, you could’ve sworn your stomach flipped. He was really so sweet, and even though you two had this weird arrangement, it was still so nice of him to dote on you like that.
One night when you were feeling okay, you heard him come home and waited for him to come see you...but he didn’t. Something nagged at your chest, telling you to not worry about it, but you couldn’t help yourself. You got out of bed and walked into the living room, but you didn’t see him.
“Pete..?” Your voice was a little groggy and thick with sleep as you called out softly. You looked around, but it wasn’t as if there were a lot of places to hide. Especially in such a small room. You pouted a little, determining you must’ve misheard before going back to bed.
Peter had been watching you closely since you moved in, tracking your good and bad days, but he didn’t say anything about it. Even so, he was sure he figured it out.
When you turned to go back into the bedroom, you were face-to-face with Spider-Man. You almost screamed, but he covered your mouth. Not forcefully, not in an upset way, but almost in a gentle way. A caring way. “Shhh...it’s 3 in the morning.”
Your eyes were wide, staring into the eyes of his mask, darting back and forth from different points of his mask because you couldn’t decide where to lay your gaze. You took a deep breath, closed your eyes, and gave a small nod. As you did, he removed his hand, instead sliding one hand to your waist to help you stay upright.
“Hey...” It sounded like he was smiling beneath the suit.
“...Hi.” Your brows furrowed a little as you kept your intense stare on him.
His other hand moved to grab yours gently, leading you back into the bedroom as he closed the door and sat you down on the edge of the bed. You followed wordlessly. Clearly, he was antsy to say something, and so you wanted to leave him the space to do so.
As soon as you were sat, he dropped down to his knees beside you, putting his hands on your leg gently. “Uhm...” Suddenly, he seemed more shy than he had during your interviews. You quirked a brow, looking down to him. Your hands stayed in your lap for the moment, but they wanted badly to touch him. “I need to tell you something.”
“I gathered...”
“Right.”
“Right.”
He looked away, his grip on your leg tightening just a little before he moved to look back up to you again. Before he could even start his semi-prepared speech, your hands found his shoulders. Then they trailed up his neck, and then finally, you found the gap between the mask and the suit. He tensed, but he let you continue. You stared at him for a moment, waiting for him to stop you, for him to beg you not to, but he didn’t.
You dug your fingertip beneath the fabric, getting a good grip as you began to pull it up. The mask was wet with sweat and blood, and it made you flinch a little when you felt how it was sticking to his skin.
“Are you sure?” You asked, your breaths deep and ragged. He took his hand and held your wrist, but nodded.
The suspicions had been there, but the confirmation still felt like the air had been punched right out of your lungs. “Peter...” Your voice was trembling as you held the mask tightly in both hands. You didn’t know what to do other than to stare.
“Hey...soulmate.”
His eyes looked tired, his lip was busted and bleeding, his face was dirty, and his hair was slick with sweat. And your heart was pounding beneath your ribs. Your mind raced with all the negative things you’d said about your soulmate to Peter, not knowing it was him, obviously. How long had he known? He was still keeping you around. You weren’t sure what to feel...You’d already said you didn’t want to ever meet your soulmate. But...you did really like Peter. All the pain you’d felt from his fighting, though...most days it was unbearable. And when it was, there would still be a dull throbbing pain all over you.
After what felt like an eternity, you finally willed some words from your throat.
“How long...have you known..?” You rubbed your thumbs into the fabric of the mask, fidgeting as you watched how his eyes stayed on you.
“I...had an idea. Before I asked you to marry me.” He admitted, cheeks flush. Even beneath the carnage of the fight he’d been in, he still had that boyish shyness. “It just solidified when...when I saw you every day...”
“When you saw me...unable to get out of bed?” You ask, a little more mean than you meant for it to sound. Your head cocked to the side as you continued. “When you saw me too sore to even take care of myself..? Or when you saw me digging around my backpack to see if I had any loose painkillers left?” There was a sharp edge to your words, a bite you couldn’t hold back. You felt a little selfish for thinking this way...but when it affected your daily life as badly as it had, it was hard not to.
He listened to you, not even trying to hide himself away from your venom. He just...stared. His eyes were full of compassion, maybe a twinge of sadness or guilt. You didn’t even realise you were crying until he lifted up his palm to your cheek and used his thumb to wipe your tears away.
“I’m so-”
You cut him off with your words.
“You knew you were hurting me, but you still go out there every night.” Your voice was so quiet, as if you didn’t even want him to hear you. Your eyes fixated on something on the wall instead of on him. Looking at him was only upsetting now.
It took him a moment to reply. “I...I can’t...not...do this.” He finally said, matching the softness of your tone. “I can’t. I have to. I-I-I...I have these powers...I can’t not use them.”
He sounded genuinely worried, his hands moving frantically as he kept speaking. He gripped a little at the fabric of your pants before looking back up to you with big brown pleading eyes. You stayed quiet for a few moments longer, but then let out a soft sigh.
“Can you...at least try not to get so hurt?”
Peter laughed a little bit, his cheeks flushing as he did. “I never intend to get hurt.”
You weren’t as amused as he was with his answer, and he frowned.
“What now..?” He asked, moving his hands up to your thigh as he rested his chin on your knee, still looking up to you- trying to meet your eyes even though you kept evading his gaze.
“Now...” You started softly, placing one hand in his hair and finally meeting his eyes again. “You’ll go sleep on the couch, and I’ll stay in this bed until opening my eyes doesn’t make me feel nauseous.”
He looked like he wanted to protest, like he wanted to try and stay and fix this but...he’d bothered you enough. Your chest tightened, seeing him like that, so defeated looking, so sad looking...You moved your hand from his hair back to the mask, picking it up off your lap and handing it to him instead.
“Good night, Peter.”
He stayed a moment longer, looking at your face still, before pressing a kiss to your knee and finally moving to get up and leave the room. He walked out slowly, as if he were waiting for you to stop him. But you didn’t.
“Good night.”
The door closed. And now you were alone to try and piece together your thoughts. Everything you’d been thinking...it was true. It was real. And it was more painful than the dull roar of your ribcage.
Venom 3 should have ended with Eddie walking into Mrs Chen shop, her speaking through Eddie and talking directly to venom only for them to stand in pure silence before aggressively sobbing and mourning his dead and NOT with a fucking maroon five and the worst Edit on the god for saken planet
