Summary: Spider-Man wanted to go for a swing, he didn't expect his hero to ask him for one though.
Warnings: established relationship lol. memory loss (bcuz of dr. strange), angst w/ fluff probs? i want my fics to be surprising so... nothing too nsfw or explicit though !!
Word Count: 3k
A/N: my first ever fic on this app. the title has nothing to do with the story. english isn't my first language so i BEG of you to show some sympathy for me. they're an avatar for the goddess Till (basically a goddess OC), inspired by Moon-Knight. throwback to my august 2022 author self who was going through it -- this sparked my idea for this fic, otherwise, i was just bored (yes, i do have homework, what's it to you?)
The old smell of rotten rust hit your nose as you sat on a hard edge of a New York building, one leg swinging mindlessly. You stretched before you yawned, dawning over the fact that there might not actually be a gang of bandits in this part of Manhattan – post-bright winter, the holiday spirits dissipating.
These nights, you would wait with your suit, in the cold, possibly walking around or stretching, or jumping from building to building for an adrenaline rush, as well as in need of warm air. Preferring solitude over crimes, you don’t know the exact reason you’re out almost every night. But you do know that air outside, crisp and on-going, is much better than air inside of cranky apartments.
As your chest falls, a sound from behind jolts your back forward, your mask covering your face. Before you turned around with a weapon in hand.
“Hi,” You heard the Spider say. “You can’t sleep too?” He said from underneath his mask, moving forward as he reached the edge of the building carefully, inching beside your alert figure. He sighed, the sound of his harsh breathing under his mask and the rise of his chest as it struggled to reach for air.
This could be another reason that you were up every night. Expecting someone to accompany you. Though, you were growing a certain feeling that this isn’t just the case.
Under your very own mask, you breathed deeply, thankful it wasn’t another landlord. “I prefer solitude over… honeymoon noises,” You stated hesitantly, though your voice was uninterested in the business that the Spider had to say.
“That too,” He says, still struggling to breath, but managing to calm himself. “But mostly, you can’t sleep too right?” He asked again.
You gave in, allowing your body to relax under the new presence. “Something isn’t right.” You say, clutching your hands together, an attempt to halt your fidgeting with whatever was around. “I don’t know what it is, but something is bothering me.”
A few months ago, you were saving the world, not knowing the exact reason who you were saving it from. But you did anyway, miraculously, with Spider-Man. From his perspective, he appeared as if he didn’t want to talk about it. You didn’t want to pry or nag, so you didn’t.
In return to that very same conversation, you referred to it as something.
Spider-Man shifted from his seat, sighing. Pulling his mask above his nose so he can breathe properly, he clicked his tongue, looking down at the streets. He didn’t respond immediately, still in thought of a response, he stifled. “Do you want to talk about it or do you want to be distracted from it?” He didn’t look at you, quite frankly, he didn’t know how. It would’ve been awkward enough, sitting on top of a building at one in the morning.
“I don’t know... I mean,” You groaned loudly, unsure of how to word your sentences. The offer he gave is still hanging in the air, unanswered. By your curiosity and the presence of the Spider, you tried to speak. “I want to know.”
He nodded, scoffing in awareness of how you word your sentences, though he took a mental note of your social skills, smiling softly at his familiar obtained knowledge. “You want to talk about it, then?” From beneath his mask, he eyed you curtly, seeing you nod slowly. “What’s something you want to know?”
You clicked your tongue, finally looking at the Spider. Trying to look for the something that bothered you so much, trying to remember that something. You scanned his side-view, blurring and bright alongside with the filter of your mask. Goddammit, your suit was such a bother. “I don’t remember what happened a few months ago,” You shook your head as you looked away. “I remember this boy, Peter Parker, he was… smart, awkward, nice, mostly awkward though.” You shook your head, attempting to pinpoint the topic you were giving out.
Meanwhile, Spider-Man froze at the mere mention of his name, his true name. He did a good job in hiding it apparently, giving you a careful look as you tried to come up with another sentence. Oh boy.
He could take off his mask and mutter a big ‘surprise!’ before standing up and swinging away. He could say ‘oh well, you were the love of my life, or you weren’t because that’s how unclear we were back then.’ but he held back, sticking to the topic of the mention of his name.
“This Peter boy,” He cringed, biting the insides of his cheeks to bite back a scowl to himself. “Was… was he important to you?” He said hesitantly, watching as you searched for another sentence.
Spider-Man was never hesitant, he would be confident in how he forms his fists to throw a punch, confident in the way he would choose his words. He’s passive, sympathetic, and friendly. Peter is silent… smart, awkward, nice, as you described him.
With four words, you crushed his soul, not only Peter's, but his; The Neighborhood Friendly Spider-Man. “I don’t think so.” Everything stilled, like his heart stopped beating, like his breath hitched in shock. In reality, behind that mask, your brows furrowed in concentration, trying to remember the way Peter’s hands would graze yours when the two of you were paired together in the Science labs. Although, that was the end of it. Nothing crossed the feeling of warmth and connection of high-school in those days.
You shook your head lightly, away from the thoughts, gazing back at Spider-Man. “What about you? Are you scared?” You asked, unaware of the heavyweight building up in his chest every time you spoke.
“So scared,” Spider-Man admitted, still trying to comprehend what you just said. You seemed so nonchalant about your answer that he wanted to ask again, so he would, another time maybe. For now, he wanted to accept this, he wanted to accept that you could possibly remember him. Not Spider-Man, him; Peter Parker. He meant to say ‘I’m scared for you’.
He meant to say that you mattered to him. That you weren’t a partner in his heroistic acts, or some ‘random hero’ (as Jonah Jameson calls you). You were you. Peter loves you underneath the mask and above it. In and out. Peter loves you and your insanely high morality.
He expected you not pry further but you spoke with a voice that reminded him he existed. “Do you want to talk about it or do you want to be distracted from it?” You quoted him, doing your best to be comforting as the superhero just admitted that he was so scared.
Spider-Man scoffed, standing up and pulling down his mask, he stood cautiously at the edge of the building. Thor, why does everything have to be so difficult? “I want to be distracted from it,” And with that, he jumped down. Swinging to the next building in a second, he landed on his foot, looking back at you as he signalled you to come along.
You smiled, standing up before you heard a voice. He’s very pushy, y’know. The Goddess, Till, appeared beside you, eyeing Spider-Man incredulously. Her long, braided hair trailed behind her back as loud footsteps thud, unheard by normal humans, but seen by you, were walking back towards the door of the rooftop. You need rest, child. She declared.
You look back, following your Goddess with your eyes. “Oh Till, you can’t blame the poor hero, he’s been through shit,” You felt chills go down your spine as she looked back one last time. You look back at the Spider, he was ready to swing to another building, you gave him a thumbs up before looking back lazily, your mask forging down on its own. “Please? I’ll get some rest when I’m done distracting him, I promise.” You confirmed with a sure nod, though Till was not convinced.
Your job as my avatar is to protect people from harm, not help them from their wrecked mental state. She raised her head high. You will not see him tomorrow unless you rest later, understood? She disappeared before your answer was decided. You were grateful anyway.
Your mask forged back on its own, as you felt your body swiftly transport to the building that Spider-Man was standing on. A blur of your own body as you recognized the bright blue and red suit. Although, he wasn’t here.
Another blur from your vision, a sudden disconnection from your body, as you teleported to another building, a tense sense of fragileness building up in the pit of your abdomen. “There we go!” Spider-Man’s voice trailed with excitement. But all you could focus on was the dizziness and spinning of the room.
“Wait, hold on—!” You turned around before your mask could forge down on its own as you breathed in and coughed out immediately. A huge lump in your throat built up. “Don’t look,” You pleaded. “Please.”
Spider-Man didn’t know how to respond other than to nod hesitantly and turn around, respecting your privacy as much as he really wanted to see you. He pulled up his mask too, above his nose, exposing his nose to the fresh air. He breathed in deeply, chest heaving up and down.
Behind him, the coughing ceased and footsteps approached him.
“I thought teleportation was easy,” Spider-Man wondered aloud, looking back at you, licking his chapped lips. Though the tension and uneasiness was brought up in the air, a price of most superheroes. He knew their night would come to an end any time soon. Peter had a speech he needed to finish by Sunday, though he wasn’t quite sure of you. Were you majoring in psychology or in arts?
A sudden exchange of your reply came to a halt, realisation struck that he wasn’t really paying attention, but instead staring at you. As if looking through your bright, white eyes from his mask. “I’m going to puke all over you if you don’t stop that,” You blurted out, annoyance present and on-going by the sound of your voice and the look of your stance; arms crossed together.
“There they are,” Spider-Man scoffed, a half-toothy grin slowly appearing on his face. “What were you saying again, partner?” He teased lightly. You brought your head up high, pointing to the massive crane. He slowly followed your gaze, as he locked eyes with the familiar, abandoned crane carving a shadow in the distance.
Oh.
You gulped, as Spider-Man brought his mask down again, ready to swing from the next building. Grabbing his wrist, a familiar warmth started centering your heart, making your eyes glow – if not, much brighter than it was before. Fuck this mask, you thought. “Could you swing us there?” You inquired, bringing your head down. “It’s alright if you can’t… since, y’know, I might be a bit heavy—”
Your sentence was cut short with a sudden hand on your waist and a sure nod. There. Bringing your skin a double sense of awareness from underneath your suit, though it disappeared as Spider-Man brought it down again. Somehow, it made you frown. “Agh— I’m sorry! I mean, yes! Of course, I’d swing you there, I just— Can I hold you? I’m sorry for not asking earlier and— and—”
You shook your head in amusement, watching as he struggled to put his thoughts into words now. “You dumbass, just do it, I don’t want to puke again.” You said, though you added; “It’s alright, really.” You nodded in reassurance, as he held you around the waist, again, this time he brought you closer to his chest.
“No, no,” His hands slid down the back of your thigh, bringing it up his waist. “Here,” Spider-Man corrected, as he held your wrist in his hands, bringing it up to his shoulders. “There,” He said proudly, you could feel a small tug from behind his mask. You didn’t know what he looked like beneath it, though curious, you noticed the tension hanging in the air, diminishing as soon as the hero looked away. “Hold on tight, alright?” He stated cockily, quirking his hand away from you, expecting you to hold on.
With that, the mix of a falling sensation and adrenaline rush washed over you. Mostly in the fear of falling off, you held unto the Spider for dear life. Behind your mask, you bit back a scream. You wanted to look back, though unable to, you were unable to do so due to the speed that Spider-Man was swinging.
The wind forced your eyes shut, creasing your eyebrows together. There isn’t a word that described the constant falling and rising of excitement and fear that reappeared and disappeared while swinging. But the harsh wind that stayed present outlined the experience enough as it is.
Then it ceased, your whole world was spinning now that both of your legs were on firm metal ground. Spider pushed your back against the tower peak, to keep you steady. He laughed scruffily. “You liked that?” He says, positioning his mask above his nose.
You couldn’t respond due to the heightened feeling of warmth against your chest and his. You could hear him breathing, feel him. You huffed, feeling ants rise above your cheeks, tackling the cold.
He realised the scene, pushing himself from you but never leaving his warm hands from your shoulders, keeping you steady. “Oh- oh, I’m sorry.” A light form of blush appeared on his cheeks, thankfully, a smile from you broke the tension.
“I liked it,” You said, looking down. Shaking your head, your bright, white eyes from your mask. “I loved it.” You beamed, a wide smile forming. It’s been a while since you’ve felt pushed over the edge in exciting adventures, just as the type of adventure you were pushed into when Iron Man was still around.
Looking back, you were much carefree, a lot more secretive, a lot simpler to hunt too, but you never took it as a problem. You were protected by yourself, by Spider-Man, somehow.
You never forgot the measly science facts he threw at you. And the Peter Parker student that you shared Science classes with and table seats, along with his good friend, Ned Leeds.
Now it was all a blip of time. Something that you’d joke about with someone like Spider-Man. Though, you couldn’t. Unbearably, the ‘situations’ you both went through, it was too severe to even heal. Who would heal them? A seed bearer couldn’t possibly heal their souls. Too fragile, even to a tangible sense.
“Sit down, you’ll fall.” Spider-Man spoke, patting down a spot next to him. He was already sitting on the rail of the crane, legs swinging. When he didn’t hear your footsteps, he looked back, a silence of confusion and comfort fused together.
It was until a burning question slipped from your tongue. “Did you get distracted?” With this you sat down, not next to him, but at your steady place, the crane’s tower peak, your head was thrown back in exhaustion, the dark hiding you.
God dammit. Spider-Man and Peter Parker. Those two were never in the same room, or at least, you couldn’t recall it. His voice was nearly as identical as Spider’s, though nice and lifted, a pinch of neshness evident. Spider’s was… confident, matured and hoarse, sure and cocky.
You wanted to know.
“I just remembered everything now that you’ve mentioned that,” Spider-Man scoffed. “It’s like I’ve distracted you more than myself.” He teased, recalling the muffled ‘what the fuck’ as he swung from building to building.
You gulped, bringing your legs to your chest, laying your chin on top of your knees. Mask and suit on, keep in mind. “I can distract you.” You said, burying your face in your knees. You heard the Spider approaching, he inched himself by your side.
“You can’t just say that while you bury your face,” Spider said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. “You have to sound confident.” He said, though, his intention was to tease. He didn’t expect you to try again, this time, with your head high as you gazed towards him. Mask and suit on.
“I can distract you…” You inched closer, keeping a gap between the two of you. “If you keep your eyes closed.”
Spider-Man frowned, he wanted to see your face. But for the sake of whatever you were going to do, as if it wasn’t blatantly obvious enough for him, he would do it. He nodded sharply, a gulp in response, closing his eyes. “Are you okay with this?” He heard you say and he felt himself nod, as if in a dream.
With that, the gap between the two heroes was closed. You brought your lips with his, syncing with the feeling of warmth of the physical contact; the way his hands slid down your waist, the small graze of contact you held with his jaw, the way your lips connected, moving in with each other. Accepting the intimate moments of heaved breaths. And somewhere in between, you could feel him smile into the kiss.
You pulled apart, the both of you out of breath. You were thankful that your hair covered your face, for it was flushed. And you were thankful, it wasn’t as windy.
Spider-Man was taken aback, he side-eyed you, though pulled his gaze away from you. Surprised and startled (and perhaps, you could describe his heart stopped beating for a moment) that you didn’t have your mask on. He wanted to brush your hair away, pushing them behind your ear, just so he could see your pretty face. Though his self-control was high.
“So,” You started, the sound of your mask forged up. “Did that distract you?”
Spider scoffed, breathing in deeply. He looked up at the spinning sky. “The sky or the kiss?” He questioned, unaware and unconcerned about your figure in alert mode. He looked back at you, expecting a teasing answer in response. Though instead, you stood up. A weapon in your hand this time.
You rolled your eyes, gazing up at the sky. “What the fuck is Marc up to?”
Phew so I know this is nowhere near domestic violence and I’m sorry if this is offensive but my dad is emotionally abusive and I always feel like I do things wrong, and I’m the type of person to apologize for everything and imagine Peter and Reader on a first date, and something goes wrong and they cry, apologizing. [i feel like I’d do that, even tho nobody would be stupid enough to date me lol]
Hi anon! and no this is not offensive at all! I’m sorry that’s happening to you, I’m sending you some love! And I understand what you’re saying to but trust me you aren’t doing things wrong, sweetie! I hope you like this one :) feel free to send in any requests you guys would like to see!
Masterlist
Peter Parker x Reader (Fluff!) No warnings except for some cursing :) Word Count: 644
You and Peter were sitting at the booth at the new restaurant, on your first date. You were so happy that he asked you out since you two have been crushing on each other for a while now. He was wearing somewhat fancier clothes than normal, in a cute button down and some jeans. You were wearing what you felt most comfortable in since he said to wear “whatever you want”. You felt embarrassed that the two of you were wearing slightly different clothing, but other than that it seemed everything was going well.
“So, how are you liking your food?” Peter asked, feeling the first date nerves. You nodded back, “It’s great, how’s your food?” You cringed internally at your choice of words, knowing it was just small talk, which everyone seems to dislike.
“I really like the French fries! Do you want to try some?” Peter pipped up, holding a French fry in the air to your mouth. You giggle at the floating French fry, and gingerly leaned forward, opening your mouth as Peter popped it in. You took a bite into it, immediately gasping at the burning heat of it in your mouth. You coughed harshly on instinct, and in horror you watch a chunk of the French fry fly onto Peter’s face.
“Oh shit! I’m so sorry!” You instantly apologize, getting up fast to wipe the fry off his face. Peter laughed, “No, it’s all good!” But once you stood over and leaned over the booth to wipe it away, the milkshakes the two of you were drinking, tipped over and onto Peter’s shirt and lap.
He looked down in shock at the ice and milk poured on him. He frowned at the feeling and glanced back up to you. Your jaw was slack open in horror at the situation before you. “No…” You whispered to yourself, while looking back at your date.
You didn’t even notice you started crying, and when you spoke up, “I’m so sorry, Peter!” He stood up in protest, “Wait no don’t cry, it’s all alright!” You blinked away a few tears when Peter said you were crying, and you gasped at yourself. You felt horrible, for ruining the date all in a matter of seconds. It was your first date too!
“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, how did I manage to fuck up this fast? Pete, really I’m so sorry!” You ramble on, crying while grabbing dozens of napkins from the booth and lightly patting it onto his soiled shirt. Each time you tried wiping up the milkshake, it only smeared even more, causing you to apologize even more.
“Hey, it’s all good! Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault.” Peter smiled at you, trying to cheer you up. You tried grinning at him, but another tear slipped, and you wiped it away. Then you noticed the sticky feeling on your face, and you groaned out another “Sorry”, noticing the milkshake was now smeared on part of your face.
The waiters and waitresses stared on as this continued to unfold. Peter chuckled a little and stepped closer to you, after placing the money owed onto the sticky table. “That was crazy.” He murmured, while taking a hold of your hand. You sniffled a little and nodded, “I’m sorry.” You responded again, slower.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize. It was pretty fun, but I don’t want the date to end. It was actually a good ice breaker,” He paused laughing at his joke, you smiled along. “Did you get it?” He laughed again, making you nod and start laughing along with him. The two of you waved goodbye to the waiters and left.
“Want to go to the thrift store so I can buy a crazy outfit to wear for the rest of this date?” Peter questioned, making you laugh out a quick, “Yes!”
