Summary: You try once more to apologize to Peter (not successfully) and Spiderman thinks it’s a good idea to bring up your family.
Warnings: A hoe needs D E P R E S S O
Words: 3.1k wow i need a life
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“Hi Peter. Sorry I got in a completely meaningless fight with you and brought up the death of your parents. We're cool, right?”
Yeah, that wasn't going to pass. You stared with half bleary eyes at the phone in your hand, a paragraph long text message highlighted in blue, about to be deleted. This was the fifth…sixth? Sixth attempt at an astounding apology that would make Peter so emotional he’d forgive you in an instant. So far, everything you wrote turned out to be shit. Every text was too long, too pathetic and clingy. And it became apparent to you that as of recently, your texts to Peter had to be perfect. Even before the fight you’d been double checking the spelling, triple checking to make sure there weren’t too many emojis.
Is adding a period too formal? Too strict? And yes, you knew very well why you were acting like this but refused to say it out loud.
After huffing through your nose, you pressed delete and half an hour’s worth of typing was gone. The sound of heavy boats cutting through water was really helping right then, to calm nerves and such. You closed your eyes and dangled your feet over the side of the warehouse. The tracker you'd put on one of Kim’s “henchmen” (could a high school student really have henchmen?) had been still for two hours now, and the video you could get on your phone was of the spider-tracker crawling up and down a man’s pant leg. The doors were locked. The live feed was silent, save for the man pacing; he was alone.
A boat horn rang through the night air, startling a cat that was sleeping on the fence down below. That reminds me, you thought. Haven't gone to Delmar’s in a while. Your phone screen’s light illuminated your face, the blank text box ever present. Okay, go simple. Don't be a dumbass. Straight to the point. I've got this. Your fingers moved nimbly by themselves, typing out the shortest thing you could think of.
“‘I'm sorry’ isn't enough right now, I know. See you at school.”
You hit send and watched the text until “delivered” appeared in small blue letters right below. Was that too up front? Probably. Was he going to forgive you because of one text, no matter how long? No. Never. You looked up at the stars and sighed, feeling a cold gust of wind flow past your cheeks. With the mask off, details about your surroundings were more clear. Everything was in high definition, but that made it hard to focus. Spidey was right; your senses were dialed up to 11, too much input and not enough capacity for storage.
Looking back down at your phone, you saw that “delivered” had changed to “read”.
Peter already saw what you wrote. He didn't bother to reply.
You made a high pitched scream at the back of your throat, frustration and shame warming your cold cheeks. I’m an idiot! Of course he still hates me- I brought up his fucking dead parents! I was the first person he opened up to after they died, and now I’ve gone and fucked up. You kicked your legs over the side of the warehouse and laid spread angled on the tin roof. This was the warehouse you’d been visiting for a few days now. Almost a week. It was only half a mile from where you saw the tall grey alien talk to Kimberly and her bosses. Sure, you should be more careful than texting while hunting down dangerous criminals, but after a few days of spending nightly hours on the roof, it had grown boring. Tame. The giant garage door was locked and from a tiny crack in the wall you only saw a giant, empty warehouse.
You were close to giving up when a car pulled into the alley on your side of the roof. A boy stepped out, loudly smacking on gum and locking the car equally loudly. Still laying down, you peeked over the side of the roof. He, a younger kid, by the sound of it, was with a girl. She talked quickly, nervously. A lazy grin slid across your face; Kimberly was never good at whispering.
“Spit that shit out before I make you,” she finally snapped. You heard a “whooey” sound and a wet splat, meaning he did as told.
“It calms me down,” he explained serenely, as if appeasing a toddler. “Maybe you should try it, since you’re so worked up. Maybe you’ll stop annoying dad all the time.”
The garage doors slid up, rumbling so badly you felt the tremors in your entire body. Their voices faded and before they did, you heard Kimberly retort: “Dad likes me better anyway.” So that’s Kim’s brother? The three menacing, scary hooded figures that talked to the grey alien were a...family? SERIOUSLY?
“Hey,” a voice hissed, poking your shoulder. On reflex, you blindly grabbed (an...arm?) and threw them away, fully prepared to then launch yourself at the target because if they wanted to fight then-
“Ow, what the fuck!” Spidey gasped, holding his bruised bicep.
“Shit- don’t sneak up on me like that!” you cried.
“Why-” he seemed to wince, rubbing the sore spot. “D’you always try an’ kill people when they do that?!”
“Well I was kind of in the middle of something!” you argued, glancing nervously over the ledge at the half dozen parked vans. “Friggin’ intense bad guy shit was happening and you just sneak up on me outta nowhere…”
“What’s intense is your grip,” Spidey murmured, rolling his shoulder. “Is that ‘cause of your powers or are you a gym rat?”
“Okay Mr. ‘I Can Stop A Moving Train’,” you said, putting a hand on your hip. "Not everyone knows how to control their strength.”
He snickered and plopped down on the ledge of the warehouse. “No seriously. Powers or its always been like that?”
“Uh…” you sat down next to him. “Powers I think. Dunno, I’ve always been able to slap a bitch who needs it.”
Spidey pouted under his mask. “Aww, am I your bitch?”
You had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from cackling. “Say that again, but slowly.”
“Am I y- oh,” he laughed awkwardly. “Whoops. Welp, guess this partnership is terminated. Nice knowing you, I’m going to go kill myself now.”
The boisterous laugh finally escaped your lips, all thoughts of Peter leaving your conscious. Spiderman made a gun with his hand, held it to the side of his head and jerked his thumb back as if pulling a trigger. “Now that my sidekick knows I’m an idiot, might as well drop being Spiderman, right?”
“Sidekick?” you managed to scoff between giggles. “Please. I’m the dominant one in this relationship.”
“Kinky.”
The tips of your ears suddenly felt hot. “S-shut up!”
Spidey laughed when you shoved his shoulder, rolling your eyes under your mask. “That’s not what I meant, dammit! I’m like the biggest virgin you’ll ever- Stop laughing!”
He kept doing so but somehow, you felt lighter than you’d been a few minutes ago. Free. Like a kid. Which was odd, because this was a nightly patrol and Kim was right below- “We need to get down there.”
The lighthearted aura was sucked from the air. “Huh?”
“I’m supposed to be down there! I was going to sneak in and- and now we’re talking about bullshit when we could be doing something!”
“Oh-kay crazy,” he dismissed you with a wave of his hand. “I called the police, they’ll be here in less than an hour. All we have to do is make sure they don’t leave the premises.”
You frowned inside your mask, thankful that it didn’t change to show facial expressions like his did. How could this superhero, especially one who was known to deviate from law enforcement, sit here and wait for people to do work for him? People who were defenseless unless they were armed with a weapon, no less. You impatiently tapped a gloved hand on your thigh, ears perking up to the muffled arguing that traveled up a nearby air vent.
“Go patrol the city,” Spidey suggested, tapping commands into the sensors on his wrist. “Better that than sitting here and doing nothing. I’ll call you if I need backu-”
“No way,” you said sternly. “I’m gonna kick their asses myself if they try to escape. Not leaving.”
“Don’t- you shouldn’t hurt them, they’re just doing their job,” he said finally, after at least five minutes of thick silence.
“They’re dangerous-”
“So are you,” he fired back. You drew away, fingers tightening around the ledge in surprise. He must have noticed the outburst was uncalled for because he released a shaky sigh. “So am I. We’re dangerous, you know that- right? Only difference between us and them is that we aren’t desperate enough to go into that line of work.”
You bristled at that. “That’s a damn big difference.”
“Not a hard line to cross, though,” Spidey noted, ceasing his tapping of instructions. “People do shit when they’re desperate. For money, for safety, for family…” he looked away from the skyline horizon and turned to you. “I’d do a lot for my family, more than I’d ever tell you about.”
“Well,” you said frankly. “That hurts a bit. Thanks, man.”
“You’ve been getting more...reckless,” he said, “The whole fiasco with the United Nations-”
“I told you that wasn’t me!”
Peter said the same thing, about the United Nations. About the little epic failure you achieved in one night. He was wrong, though; you were framed, it was synthetic smoke. Who was trying to make you Public Enemy #1? You didn’t know and it was killing you. Maybe I should tell Peter about this superhero gig. He could help me deal with it, I guess, you considered the notion. That’d be a huge chip off my shoulder. Too bad I was a complete dumbass and ruined the friendship with one stupid fucking offhand comment-
“Okay, say it wasn’t,” Spidey said patiently, drawing you out of the stream of furious thoughts. “But you stole from that jewelry store a while back.”
“I stopped a potential robbery!” you said defiantly. “He was an idiot for trying to steal at Fifth Avenue- who the hell does that? A-and I only took one little diamond-”
“‘One little diamond’?!”
“Whaaat?” you whined, looking down at your dangling legs guiltily.
“What would your parents think?” Spidey asked, probably expecting you to open up more. Probably raising an eyebrow under his stupid mask. Good luck with that, bud.
“Okay, okay,” you immediately dropped the playful tone. “I get it, that was bad. Let’s move on please.”
“No, c’mon,” he pressed. “Everyone thinks about their family when they do bad shit.”
Your lips were pursed in a thin line and you felt your head tilt in a small nod. He would get no other answer right away, but he sure did try. “Do you...not have a family?”
No response. “Shit, I’m sorry. I assumed-”
“I have a family,” you forced out, and it sounded so disgusting to say that you prayed you’d never have to say it again. Spiderman did this thing where he leaned forward and turned his upper body towards you, cocking his head down and waiting for a continuation. You huffed.
“It’s a complicated situation, webhead,” you lifted one leg onto the roof and pulled your knee to your chest, letting the other one dangle. “S’not a big family anyway, so at least it’s not completely out of hand.”
“Dead relative?”
You shook your head. “Single mom.”
“Oh,” his hand patted your shoulder, a surprisingly welcomed gesture. “My best friend’s got a single mom. They’re not very close, though.”
“Good for them,” you said flatly.
Spiderman shifted awkwardly. “So maybe don’t...steal jewelry? For your mom’s sake?”
He looked at you for a reaction, even a tiny nod, and got none. “You really hate talking about her, don’t you?”
“It’s not- ugh, I dunno,” you hung your head lower. “If I talk about my mum for another second I’d probably start on a whole rant ‘bout how she utterly failed as a parent and, despite technically being there my entire childhood, is constantly ignoring her responsibilities-”
You opened your mouth to continue but choked on the words, realizing that the conversation was 90% you oversharing. “Anyway she’s an okay mum or whatever. Hasn’t done anything that bad. Very average.”
How else were you to phrase it to someone you met so recently? “Very average” was giving her way too much credit but it wasn’t abuse...anymore. In the past two years she’d gone from hitting you for being a disappointment to not caring at all. She didn’t yell every week, she didn’t slap you upside the head or box your ears. She tried to do Mother/Daughter nights but they always ended with her screaming about kicking you out while you wiped away tears. Frankly it wasn’t “caring” as much as it was random fits of rage but- it wasn’t physical anymore. You didn’t have hand shaped bruises anymore, nor split lips. You still had to be careful around your mum ‘cause hell, who knew if she was having a bad day. Who knew what she’d do if she had a bad day. But despite the bad days...she was still your mum. She always apologized after a week or so, told you she hadn’t meant it.
Spiderman was nodded slowly. “You’ve...got a lot to say about your mom.”
“Trust me, that barely covered my opinion of her,” you grumbled. “But what the hell, right? Not like I know you,” your hands felt clammy and hot from frustration.
“Don’t look,” you warned him briskly.
“What?”
“I need some air, don’t look at me.” Your fingers grasped the bottom of your mask and began to tug up. Chilly night air tingled pleasantly wherever it touched, almost making you sigh out loud.
Spidey’s neck must have snapped with how quickly he looked away. “Are you crazy?! Why are you taking the mask o-”
“Relax, I’m just lifting it a little,” you bunched the mask up on the bridge of your nose, inhaling deeply for the cold, dry New York air. It rattled in your lungs yet you took another calming breath, glancing at Spiderman.
He was covering his eyes.
“You don’t have to-” your quiet laugh got his attention. “Don’t cover your eyes, dude. Jus’ don’t look at my face.”
“Uh, yeah,” he hesitantly took the hand from his face. “Gotta be cautious thought.”
“S’ just my mouth, Spiderboy,” you grinned at his awkward nature. “What- can’t handle seeing a girl’s lips?”
“Yes I have!”
You giggled at his voice crack. “Pretty sure you’ve a bigger virgin than I am.”
“I am not!”
“Oh yeah?” you quirked an eyebrow, knowing he couldn’t see it. “I’m making my ‘I-don’t-believe-you’ face, by the way. Seriously starting to doubt that you’re my age ‘cause…you act like a twelve year old. No offense.”
“I’m sixteen!” he defended and honestly, seeing him angrily wave his arms around without facing you was hilarious. And the suit sounded like it was frantically trying to adjust the voice modifier to his high pitched rambling. “I swear I’m sixteen, it’s fucking puberty-”
You put a hand up to silence him, smiling maniacally before pulling your mask over your chin again. “I kid, I kid. Mask is back down.”
If this were a cartoon there would have been steam shooting from his ears. Not like, angry steam. Flustered steam. Or maybe both. Either way, it was funny.
“I hate you,” he groused. “And my voice had to crack! God, that’s worse than when we met!”
A fresh bout of laughter erupted from thinking of that memory alone. Your cackles, once again muffled by the shitty mask, had to be stifled by biting down on the inside of your cheek.
“Pfft, ha! Oh-” you gagged on the words. “Oh that was fucking amazing! D’you- d’you remember when the kid was running-”
“Please no.”
“And you tried to grab him-”
“No, no you said you wouldn’t bring that up!”
“And he threw the bag of quarters at your dick! Ha!”
Spiderman groaned in agony. “Take the mask off so I can deck you.”
“Come at me scrub, I’m- shit,” your metal wristlet beeped, flashing the word “Urgent” in neon blue block letters. “Ah, damn. There’s a robbery near my place, gotta check that out,” owners of a small Korean place near Delmar’s are being threatened at gunpoint. You’d been there with Peter and Ned few times, and that made thought you somber again. “That’ll be a few minutes to get to.”
“You’ve gotta stop bugging the cameras,” Spidey said disapprovingly.
“Well some of us don’t have fancy Super-Conducting 4.2 Tera whatever to help us,” you answered snidely, projecting a small image of the restaurant's security camera view. “Fuck, you’ve got patrol too. Who’s gonna guard this shit?”
“I can stay here,” Spidey offered quickly. He’s not asking to swing me there? That’s...weird. Last time I checked he was the biggest Mom Friend I’ve ever met.
You paused at the ledge of the warehouse, eyes moving from the him to Queens in the distance and back again. “Are you sure?”
“Go!” he urged, shooing you away. “I can handle one night without a partner. S’ your chance to prove that you’re not evil.” You scoffed, wheeled around and raised your middle finger, falling backwards off the ledge with your arms spread like wings. Your body dissolving into a column of smoke seconds before hitting the ground. Spiderman didn’t call for backup that night and the ordeal was stopped with a few “magic tricks” of yours. The robber was easy to take down as he was stupid high and though you disappeared before they could say anything, you saw the restaurant owners talking to a local reporter with relieved expressions. You doubted the old couple would say anything bad, but being tentative never hurt anyone. Hopefully Spidey’s call sent a few officers to the warehouse.
Funny thing was: you hadn’t seen any police cars heading to the warehouse as you flew Queens. Not a single one.
A/N: idk why i got carried away with this. like on one hand...character background. on the other...character background that will cause some depressing shit vv soon
Summary: Peter outright refuses to talk to you at the moment. His girlfriend, on the other hand, won’t leave you alone.
Warnings: Abuse? Idk man everything’s going to shit
Words: 1.7k
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“No Michelle, I can’t have her drive me to the conference!” you argued, mashing the phone into your ear. “‘Cause she’s busy, alright? I’ll have to miss this one.”
“Absolutely not,” MJ clipped back. “You already missed the last two and morale is low. Liz specifically told us morale was important before she left, I know she’s right and so do you. It’s my responsibility to-”
“To keep the team busy and happy,” you repeated for the millionth time, getting up to dump a small mountain of candy wrappers into the trash. “Yeah, yeah I know. Can you keep your voice down please? Please?”
She clicked her tongue. “Finally got yourself in detention?”
“Of course not!” you snapped, plopping back down. “Like I’d ever let myself get detention. I’ve gotta stay after to do some extra credit work for English, since my last essay was ‘bad’. ”
You could almost hear her squint through the phone. “What do you mean by...bad?”
“I don’t know,” you said miserably, staring at the folders of homework that were beginning to pile up on your desk. You rubbed the bridge of your nose before speaking. “I’m usually good at this shit, now I’m not. Fuckin’ go figure, I guess.”
“So that’s a definite no for decathlon?” MJ asked.
You hummed in response, ducking when an iPhone was thrown across the room like a football. A group of guys in the corner guffawed, but one of them had the decency to mouth “sorry”. You rolled your eyes. “I wish I could but...”
“But your mom’s too busy to drive you,” she finished dejectedly, then sighed. “Why’s she been so damn stubborn lately? Is she giving you a hard time again? My parents could talk to her if that would help.”
“No,” you said quickly. “No, no it’s fine. I can go to the next one, she promised.”
MJ was skeptical, you could tell. “Mhmm, why don’t you ride the bus with the team? It only costs a few bucks.”
“I’m busy MJ,” you deflected. Which wasn’t a total lie. The stack of due-tomorrow papers and “small” projects was growing higher with each class. And then there was the ever looming threat posed by some group of arms dealers talking to an alien (a fucking alien! Like Thor!) So yeah, you were busy. “If I get all this done by the end of the month I promise I’ll go to the next meeting.”
Michelle was quiet for a bit. “Okay. But if you leave me like Parker did last year-”
“By all means, you can kill me yourself,” two sets of footsteps entered Ms. Baker’s crowded room. You glanced up out of boredom in time to see a brunette boy whirl around, march back out of the classroom and slam the door behind him. Your heartbeat spiked sharply, blocking out what MJ was saying over the phone. Oh no…
“MJ I’ve got to be very quiet now,” you whispered urgently.
"What? Why? (YN) - "
You hung up.
Kimberly shrugged at Peter’s antics and strode the the empty teacher’s desk as if she hadn’t seen you. You kept your eyes glued to the desk as she rummaged through Ms. Baker’s files. Reaching with shaky hands for a pencil, you slid a random paper in front of you and read it all the way through, not retaining a word. Then you read it again. And again, until the soft clink of her flats on the floor started again. She was leaving.
“Hey.”
You hadn’t realized how strong your grip was on the pencil…
Until it snapped in half.
“Wuh-” you said stupidly. “Heeey. Hello.”
Kimberly cocked her head at the desk next to you. “Can I sit down?”
“Uh…” you dropped the snapped mechanical pencil into your backpack, fully aware of the giant voice crack you just experienced. Like, a “Ned talking to cute girl” level voice crack. And dammit, you cursed at yourself. That pencil was expensive. “S-sure.”
“I was going to study here with Peter, but he pretty much refused to come inside,” your gaze darted away from her, only making her eyebrows rise farther up her forehead. “Seemed kind of mad. You guys have a fight?”
You made the mistake of looking her in the face. “No.”
“Really?” she flicked a decorative cactus pin on her bag. “So why’s he so mad at you?”
You opened your mouth and closed it, repeated this at least three times. Her eyes shone with the same repressed anger as they had when she identified you while on patrol with Spidey. That time she shot at you? Remember that fun night? Anyway, she managed to give you a deadpan stare all while adjusting the straps on her bag. “Reasons,” you answered simply.
“Okay, don’t lie,” she leaned in with a knowing look. “Something happened, and he’s been hanging out with me a ton more than you lately. Did you hurt him?”
You couldn’t look at her without imagining a loaded gun pointed at your skull so how was she talking so casually? “I...don’t have to tell you. I’m not required to tell you. Does that answer the question?”
“Nope,” she said calmly. “It makes you look like an asshole, though.”
“No offense, really, but it’s none of your business-and I don’t know what he’s told you and-”
“A lot,” Kim said. Your eye twitched.
“Well t-then you know what I d-did,” you’d begun to stutter. Badly. “So how m-much was he snitched about?”
She shrugged her shoulders and gave her (Korean? You couldn’t see from your angle) flag pin one final flick. “Well, not that much. You’re sarcastic, or so I’m told. Nice enough, but you got very violent when that one guy bullied Michelle,” she looked up from her bag. “Oh! You’re nosy.”
Your leg bounced up and down as if it were spasming. So your best friend was talking ‘bout you behind your back. Well, part of your brain blamed him, and the other part still replayed the “dead parent” exchange every night before bed. And yes, you didn’t get much sleep these days. “Peter said I’m nosy?”
“No, but you can’t seem to get off my family’s ass,” Kim scoffed. “So I just assumed. What- am I wrong?”
“Y-yes,” you cleared your throat. “Yes. Very wrong. Sorry, but I’m not the one who’s smuggling weapons.”
She glanced around her to make sure no one heard and looked back at you with stony brown eyes. The group of idiots in the corner were still loud enough to mask the conversation, a herd of girls gathered around their friend were giggling. Ms. Baker still wasn’t back.
“I don’t think you understand my circumstances, hon,” she hissed, a tense smile stretching over her features. You saw a single boy in the corner, peering at the two of you from behind a small book but he’d looked away when Kim smiled. “You think Midtown is cheap? Think my dad wants to endanger our family for the freaks who buy his shit?”
You shook you head frantically. Her story sounded all to familiar. “I wouldn’t have known if it weren’t dangerous. The guy you’re selling them to-”
“Pays well,” she clipped. “Doesn’t matter who he is or where he’s from- he pays us generously. In the long run it’s more than we could ever give back.”
“You have no idea what he’ll do with them,” you whispered fiercely. “He disappears after you talk to him and that’s just okay to you? That man-”
She laughed bitterly. “He’s not a man and you know that.”
“He- he’s…” your breathing was becoming laboured, an oncoming panic attack. “And you don’t see anything, I don’t know- wrong with that? What th-”
Kim latched onto your wrist, making the wind leave your lungs. “Did you think it was wrong to leave my mother in that building?” she asked quietly, scraping her nails down your skin. Hot tears brimmed your lower lashes and you clenched your teeth to stop the screech that bubbled in your throat. Thum-thump...thum-thump...
Still you nodded; yes.
“So you’re admitting it was a mistake on your part?” she smiled kindly. Her thumb delicately traced the protruding veins on your wrist (thum-thump!) Once again, you nodded hastily. What else were you to do, scream? And for who? The jackasses who threw someone’s phone? The bitches who were currently showing off their hickeys? The single, lonely, creepy guy and his copy of Animal Farm?
“But you still left her there,” she said sadly. The nail of her thumb pressed dangerously on your central vein, the heartbeat growing weaker and somehow louder in your head. A nauseating, throbbing pulse echoed in your ears. Thum-thump!
She dug her nail into the vein. Thum-thump! Thum-thump! Thum-thump!
“I wish it was different,” Kim murmured. You were startled by her suddenly glassy orbs. “If you’d saved her, maybe dad would’ve stopped selling those things. He used to only sell guns, y’know? But that was never enough money...”
Thum-thump! Thum-thu--
She threw your aching arm away. “Whoops- forgot about that.”
You cradled the wrist close to your chest, watching her with feral eyes and ragged breathing. Kim had the gall to pat your other arm sympathetically, ignoring the way your body flinched. “You won’t tell anyone about this, will you?” she asked, blinking innocently.
“What if I d-do?”
You’d rather drown in the Hudson than hear her answer that.
Thankfully, she never does. Kimberly’s full lips curled up in a half smile, half snarl. You don’t get an reply, though you don’t really need one. Truth was, if this “buyer” was as powerful as he seemed, there was no limit to what he could do. Kim knew this all too well. She stood up, steadied her bag on one shoulder and practically bounced away.
Her flats clicked merrily with each step.
AN: Holy fucking shit it’s been 5 months god damn shit fuck fuck sorry?
MASTERLIST: aut neca aut necare (p. parker x reader)
Summary: An accident, a pretty girl, a bad protagonist, a group of friends (but not for long), a homemade suit, a convoluted plot, a dumbass crush, an origin story.
Junior year.
Queens, New York.
Prologue: The prelude dedicated to a young anti-hero who wished she’d just stayed home.
Part I: Spidey believes in you, although he was his doubts about your intentions. If you’d known those doubts would be your downfall you’d have acted better.
Part II: Spiderman may have feelings for the enemy… also who the fuck is Thanos?
Part III: Apparently you’re not popular with reporters, you might have a thing for your best friend and you have to watch your mother leave (good riddance?).
Part IV: Peter hasn’t been talking to you for two weeks now, which is cool. It’s all good. He’s only your best friend of like, seven years. No biggie.
Part V: Peter outright refuses to talk to you at the moment. His girlfriend, on the other hand, won’t leave you alone.
Part VI: You try once more to apologize to Peter (not successfully) and Spiderman thinks it’s a good idea to bring up your family.
Summary: Peter hasn’t been talking to you for two weeks now, which is cool. It’s all good. He’s only your best friend of like seven years. No biggie.
Warnings: Peter kinda being a shady bitch. The angst begins. Reader is becoming e d g y
Words: 2.3k
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The weeks were passing too quickly. You’d hoped that Peter would interact even a little, to slow down time like he did when it was just the two of you in his living room, watching old cartoons on a Sunday. Classes with him were the same as classes without him; boring, dreary, etcetera. Peter had little intention of talking with you. Or Ned, apparently, because Ned would follow him everywhere in a desperate attempt to gain his attention. You were alone. It made you guilty, that the mention of Ned’s name caused a bitter pang in your chest. Ned didn’t try to avoid you like Peter seemingly did.
“It’s the most annoying book I’ve ever read,” MJ complained, The Pearl by Steinbeck resting on her lap. Peter didn’t look up from his computer, merely humming to signify he was listening. MJ sent Peter a withering look which he’d see if he looked away from the damn computer. She turned back to you and shrugged. “I mean, let’s say we ignore the shit descriptions. Kino is such a conceited prick. He treats his wife like shit for trying to advise him. Actually, now that I think about it, Juana reminds me of that hero chick who the New York Times likes to bash.”
You felt Peter stiffen in his seat and chose to ignore him like he was you. “Okay Michelle I know that you know her name-”
“Yeah, it’s a stupid name-”
“I mean the people started calling her that, so blame them.”
“It’s a makeup brand!”
“-and did you just use John Steinbeck to suddenly shift conversation to Nyx?”
She sniffed daintily, tugging at one of her baby hairs. “And if I did?”
You laughed at her fake nonchalant attitude. “Oh my god Michelle.”
“Right, let’s see what people think,” she roughly shoved Peter’s shoulder, making him release a high pitched yelp that resounded throughout study hall. “Parker, what d’you think about Nyx. She’s cool and all, but the name. It’s dumb.”
“I don’t get why you like her so much,” Peter said gruffly. “Haven’t you read the New Yo-”
You interrupted him. “We’ve seen that thing. MJ says it’s bull and I believe her. Don’t you think that Ritter guy sounds a bit biased?”
“Maybe, but what he writes is true,” Peter said. He focused back on his computer, typing as he talked. “She robbed a store on Fifth Avenue…”
I didn’t rob it, You thought, deflating slightly. I STOPPED a robbery, then put most of it back. Stupid cameras caught me with ONE watch and reporters ignore the actual robber completely. AND WHO ROBS VERSACE? Walk a bit and you’ll get to Tiffany and Co.!
“…and the United Nations Headquarters!” Peter exclaimed, shocking you out of your thoughts.
“No one saw her sneak in.” MJ noted, confused at why Peter was suddenly so against Nyx. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly.
“Wait hold up,” you broke in, feeling your palms become sweaty. “W-what happened at the U.N.?”
“Nyx stole from the U.N.’s library,” Peter explained patiently. “She took something from the historical sciences section. No one knows what it is yet, but they think it’s a record of ancient power sources. Prehistoric relics. What old civilizations worshipped. Supposedly it’s from before people knew what a god was, so it’s kind of a big deal.”
You wiped your hands on your jeans and tore the laptop from his hands before he could protest. Of course, as soon as you started typing “UN” the autosearches read “UN headquarters broken into”, “UN delegates can’t work anymore?”, “UN building in shut down”. You clicked on a random article and sure enough, there were shaky pictures of the glass library, dark blue smoke leaking from its open doors. But it wasn’t your smoke; Nyx hadn’t entered the building at all. You’d been framed.
“Is there any video?” you asked, praying the squeak in your voice wasn’t audible.
“No,” Peter replied, taking his computer back rather forcefully. “But I’m sure it’s Nyx. I mean, blue smoke? She’s been getting more careless and this was her breaking point, her greatest achievement so far- Or maybe she’s innocent. Dunno, I’ve been watching Shane Dawson.”
Summary: Apparently she’s not popular with reporters, she might have a thing for her best friend and has to watch her mother leave (good riddance?).
Warnings: Cursing. Peter’s fallen madly in love…….with Kimberly. 🎉
Words: 2.7k
Previous Chapter Next Chapter
“Newest Queens vigilante “Nyx” seen alongside Spiderman on a midnight prowl of the city.” You read aloud at lunch, Peter and Ned listening closely. Michelle might have been listening in too, but she didn’t show it. “Nyx, seemingly an apprentice of sorts to Spiderman, was captured on camera by teens near the docks of Brooklyn. The teens provided little comment, except that they were uneasy with her presence.”
You threw the newspaper down, trying to hide the scowl that was forming on your face. That had been the latest article of many, all of them more condescending than the next. Compared to other papers this one was tame. And “Nyx”? Seriously? Like the MAKEUP BRAND?
“What do you think about it Peter?” Ned asked, staring at his friend with a suspicious level of curiosity. Peter only shrugged, nudging Ned with his elbow.
“She’s probably a nice person.” He said, picking up an apple slice. “I haven’t seen her around Queens yet.”
“Fuckin’ nosy ass paps,” You grumbled quietly. “‘They felt uneasy around her’? What a bunch of bull.”
“What’d you say Y/N?” Ned asked, leaning closer to you.
“Nothing,” You said lightly, smiling at him. “Just talking to myself.”
“It’s a weird name to call her, don’t you think?” Michelle said loudly from her end of the table. “‘Nyx’. Not really a superhero name.”
“I think it’s ‘cause she only comes out at night,” Ned answered, toying with the straw in his milk. “And she only wears black.”
“Nah, she wears dark blue and silver too.” Peter said passively. Michelle, Ned and you all turned to look at him with varying degrees of confusion.
“I saw some other pictures,” He explained quickly, sending you a sheepish smile. You had looked the most confused. “It’s a nice suit. She seems very cool.”
Michelle raised an eyebrow. “She only comes out at night.”
“Like a bat.” Ned commented.
“Like Batman.” Peter offered.
“Like someone who wants to blend in,” You said, wrinkling your nose. “Not like Batman.”
Peter opened his mouth to say something but closed it immediately. He looked behind you, watching someone pass by. Without looking you could tell it was Kimberly. No matter how hard he tried to hide it from his friends, Peter’s eyes got a bit brighter when she was near. You’d memorized that change without meaning to, even though you didn’t like it.
“I need to go get some water.” was Peter’s brilliant excuse to talk to her. You waved your hand dismissively, flipping through the news article lazily. It’s not like you told Peter that Kimberly hated you because you failed to save her mother. Telling him must have slipped from your mind. And it’s not like guilt ate away at your insides every day because of that failure. It’s not like that at all.
Summary: Spidey believes in her, although he was his doubts about her intentions. If she’d known those doubts would be her downfall she’d have acted better.
Warnings: Cursing, implied bullying, but this is actually pretty fluffy. For now.
Words: 1,908
Prologue Next Chapter
Kimberly wasn’t the only looming threat to you anymore. I mean, she’s up there. You thought. She’s like in the top five. Maybe three. Your fingers tingled with energy all the time now, as if any movement too sudden would trigger a chain reaction. It already happened a few times; you would let go and something in the room would fly into a wall and shatter. That was only at your apartment thought; your mother was yet to see these new abilities, thank god. So far, you’d gotten through most of school without an accident. It didn’t help that Kimberly was in half your classes, eyes boring into the back of your head.
“You okay?” Peter asked softly, poking your arm. Your head snapped at the sound of his voice, another thing you hadn’t learned to control: the odd but pleasant fluttering in your chest when he spoke. A feeling that, by the way, someone shouldn’t be having for her best friend. Despite your face heating up, you convinced yourself it was nothing. Maybe I’m getting sick. Mum did forget to stop by the drug store. She probably didn’t go on purpose, just ‘cause we had that fight…
“Yeah. Just tired.”
“Cool, cool.” Peter mumbled, somewhat awkward. He glanced sideways at you from his book. “You can talk to me, y’know? The whole lab accident made you, uh, quiet.”
“I’m fine, Peter.”
“I know.” He defended, earning a glare from the librarian. “I’m only reminding you that we’ve been best friends for six-”
“Seven.”
“Seven years now.” He finished, closing his book. “If you don’t tell me all your secrets then I’m- I’m just plain hurt, (Name).”
He feigned pain and you flicked his cheek, chuckling under your breath. “Okay you cocky asshole, I got it. Nothing’s wrong, ‘m fine.”
You felt Kimberly’s eyes on you once again, even without looking back. They felt like lasers on the back of your head, slowly burying into your skull. The bell rang and you hopped up, grabbing your pre-packed backpack and tapping your foot as Peter got his.
“See you tomorrow Peter!”
You burst through the school’s back door, already excited for later tonight. Sure, your “super-suit” was handmade and obviously stitched together, but it let you wander the streets of Queens at night without being detected.
Summary: The prelude dedicated to a young anti-hero who wished she’d just stayed home.
Warnings: PTSD, blood, violence, cursing, mentions of anxiety, implied depression (it’s fluffy as shit can’t you tell). This is gonna be an unbelievably angsty series. Enjoy.
Words: 1,924
Next Chapter
You were too tired to brush your hair properly.
“Get out! Everyone out now!”
Some people screamed, some were too out of breath to even speak. Smoke filled your lungs and choked you out. Most of the group was there, all in one place. You noticed that the short woman who had been guiding the tour was nowhere to be seen. Security guards were herding everyone in some direction, yelling in panicked voices for there to be calm. It was ironic in a sinister, twisted kind of way.
Clothes were thrown on haphazardly. You didn’t care if they didn’t match. Most things in your closet were dark colors anyway, which made you smile a bit; that sounded so emo.
MJ was also gone. Ned and Peter were already outside. You prayed that MJ was outside with them, but she couldn’t have passed you without you knowing, even in this thick smoke. And on the inside, tattooed into your brain was the need to go back and help her. Hell, even help the short lady, although MJ was priority. With your lungs making suspicious rattling noises and your eyes stinging, you turned back and trudged into the smoke.
Looking back on it, you were surprised at how useless New York’s police and fire department were. One lady in blue uniform had been sipping coffee leisurely with one hand and throwing blankets at survivors with the other. Peter said she’d thrown one at his face.
A guard yelled for you to come back, but his screaming was quickly drowned out by the creaking of support pillars. You were very dimly worried that the floors of Stark Labs would collapse. The security guard made no attempt to go after you, which was fine. When the smoke was too black to see through you stretched out your arms and felt your way through the fifth corridor. You couldn’t see a foot in front of you, yet you still kept walking, the only light being a fire from one of the smaller physical chemistry labs.
“MJ!”
You heard distant cries for help.
“MJ? MICHELLE!”
The cries became shrieks, and you knew that it wasn’t MJ. You tripped over an overturned decorative plant and landed on your hands and knees right next to a woman who definitely wasn’t MJ. Another fire was spreading from a connecting hallway, providing just enough light for you to see the ceiling that was about to cave in. The lady (a short lady, by the way) was propped up on her elbows, her head turned up to the sky and her eyes squeezed shut to avoid looking at the plumbing pipe lodged into her stomach.
“Don’t help me.”
You rubbed your itchy eyes as she lowered her head to look at you. She was slipping away.
“I saw a…”
The lady tried to take a ragged breath but only inhaled more smoke. “A g-girl, down this hall. She isn’t hurt.”
You looked down helplessly at her, laying there, waiting for death. She frowned and you wondered if frowning took all her remaining strength, because she sunk down on the floor and let the pipe impale her further. Dark red liquid seeped out of the wound. You looked away quickly and bit your clenched fist to keep from releasing a horrified yelp. A step away from the dead lady, and another, and another and you were looking into each lab as you passes them until finally-
A picture of you, Ned and Peter was taped to your bedroom wall, taunting you. Michelle was in the background, photobombing and flashing her middle finger.
MJ was slumped against a cabinet in lab 50, her chest rising and falling in a steady pace. You wanted badly to release a sigh, but the smoke was already filling your chest like an overblown balloon and it burned. As promised, she wasn’t hurt. Your head was becoming fuzzy, slowly being worn away by exhaustion, heat and smoke. Fighting off a migraine, you hooked your arms under MJ’s arms and began to drag her away.
You double and triple checked your backpack, just in case anything was missing. And, after eating a quick breakfast, you checked once again.
You were almost to the big glass doors, almost outside. Most of the cops were handling the injured, reassuring them that an ambulance was coming. None of them looked back to see two girls, one unconscious and one barely walking. For two seconds, you were hopeful. MJ would be safe. Both of you would make it out.
“Spiderman’s gonna help us,” You murmured feeling your head grow light. “He’s gon’- he’ll help us-”
Mum was already at work. She didn’t leave a note. She hadn’t bothered to leave one in six years. You tried not to care much about her, or what she thought of you, or what she did. Again, how fucking emo-
The lobby’s glass chandelier jangled and you watched it fall, taking a chunk of the ceiling with it. More deep rumbles came from above you. In slow motion the exposed ceiling framework collapsed.
Summary: Spiderman may have feelings for the enemy… also who the fuck is Thanos?
Warnings: Cursing, school is stressful, guns, Kimberly won’t leave them alone. (guess who the tall figure is. guess. i dare you.)
Words: 1,879
Previous Chapter Next Chapter
You didn’t visit Stark Labs again to start the internship; you were a junior now, and the homework was pilling up. Peter, Ned and you spent so many hours studying that you didn’t remember just hanging out with them like normal teenagers. You spoke to them in your “homework voice”, a dreary drone, often hoarse from lack of sleep. It was only mid-year and you felt like giving up.
“If this goes on I’m going to quit and become a stripper.” You finished grimly as Spidey tinkered with his web shooters. You were laying on the edge of a building like it was a bench at the park, one leg dangling over the side. “My mum’s already disappointed enough- And that’s with straight A’s!”
“I get you.” He mumbled. “My school’s in advanced academics, yeah? An’ A.C.T.’s are coming up, so there’s college to think about… I’m not going to survive the year.”
You faced away from him, tapping the silver cuff on your wrist to display a holographic map of the Bronx and Queens. A little moving dot was blinking up at you, projecting a new address every time it crossed into another county. It was teasing you.
“You tracked the van?” Spiderman exclaimed. You slapped your hand over the cuff to cut off the projection, finally sensing him looking over your shoulder. Scratching the back of your head, you avoiding looking at him. Guilt. This was what guilt felt like. But getting caught is pretty bad too…
“No?”
“I can’t- You- I shouldn’t have given it to you.” Spidey said in one breath. “You said you’d put it on the storage container!”
“That’s useless.” You retorted, stepping closer. Admittedly, Spidey’s new suit was more intimidating, something you refused to show him. You didn’t step down. “Why the hell would we track something that sits at the dock and doesn’t move! I tapped some guy, no big deal-”
“You should’ve tracked the container and set up motion detectors, and not risked being shot.” He fired back. “Bad guys always come back to the scene of the crime! We could’ve caught them with more cargo!”
“Not a guarantee.”
“I’ve been doing this longer than you,” Spiderman said. “I know what I’m doing.”
“From what I’ve gathered, you’re a kid in highschool,” You said cooly. “Just. Like. Me. Anyway, I know where they are now and it’s useful, so… I win!”
Spiderman crossed his arms and furrowed his eyebrows, refusing to let you win. “Aww, c’mon Spandex,” You teased slyly, poking his arm repeatedly. “You know I’m right. Say it. Say I’m right.”
“Just don’t get shot.” He said stubbornly. “I’m not going to have my friend die.”
“Deal.” You said nonchalantly, although his words shocked you. His friend? I’m Spiderman’s friend? “They’re in Queens now. We can catch them while they’re driving.”
Spidey offered you his hand, implying that he would carry you there. “No. I’ll fly myself.”
“You sure?”
Looking down from the skyscraper, you winced. “Sort of… Catch me if I fall, will you?”
Your body dissolved into smoke as he swung off the rooftop, flying in front of him. On que, two black vans sped by, the exact same license plates from before. Your smoke turned sharply after them with Spidey trailing behind you. A few times you transformed back into human form while flying, but always changed back. It became fun to scare Spidey like that.
Your smoke hovered over the pavement and you dropped down as a human again. Spidey landed silently beside you, both of you inching towards the black vans. Like last time, men got out and began to unload oddly shaped objects. As you hid behind some crates, you noted that they were being very careful not to touch their cargo. Three figures got out of the front of a van, all of them arguing in hushed tones.
“Scan them!” You whispered to Spidey.
“I can’t,” He grit out, his suit’s eyes adjusting over and over again. He eventually groaned. “They’re too far away.”
You pressed your lips into a thin line. The three figures weren’t unloading anything, so they couldn’t be just workers. One was taller, the other two about the same height. 6’0 maybe? You thought. Then those two are like 5’7. A henchman carrying a particularly big object cursed loudly as it slipped from his hands. It randomly shot a beam of blue light at some boxes. They disintegrated in the blink of an eye. You inhaled sharply, the sudden rush of instinct taking giving you goosebumps.
“That’s n-not human.” You said shakily.
“It could be.” Spiderman sounded like he was trying to convince himself. His hands gripped the edge of a crate until it bent and cracked.
“…told you… Never drop it again!” You heard a female voice shriek, although you could only hear parts of what was said. The man who dropped the weapon shrunk back, even though he seemed taller than her. She has power over them.
A figure stepped out of the shadows as the mess was cleaned. You squinted in the dark, watching an impossibly tall person step out of a particularly dark patch as if they just materialized out of thin air. To your and Spidey’s surprise, the three people who seemed to have been in charge bowed before the newcomer.
“That isn’t human.” You repeated solemnly, your eyes boring into Spiderman. The tall figure was talking now, apparently, and the three humans were listening carefully. When Spidey didn’t move, you assumed smoke form and slowly slithered closer, gliding inches over the pavement. The night hid your navy smoke. Please don’t change back into a human now, You pleaded. Don’t let them see me.
Spiderman jolted when he realized you were no longer next to him, searching and finding you crouched behind one of the vans. His eyes widened and he cursed under his breath just as your ears perked up, listening to the four dark figures talk.
“We need the next paycheck, sir.” A deep male voice said. Respectful and hesitant.
“You shall get it when you need it,” You frowned at that voice. It was powerful. So forceful, in fact, that you felt the urge to cower. “For now, the Mad Titan Thanos demands his artillery is supplied for.”
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