Your Favorite Villain│Andrew Garfield!Spiderman x Villain!Reader Pt. 2
Warnings: Brief descriptions of injuries; cursing; slight angst; fluff, suggestive content; set in tasm
Word Count: 2.5k
Summary: It was a minor slip up, but now he knew your identity and you knew his. And to make matters worse? The two of you actually know each other.
Author's Note: The final part! Honestly I love the dynamic of these two so much, I don’t want to stop writing. As promised, if anyone is ever interested in scenarios for these two, whether before or after the identity reveal, let me know~ Anyways, please enjoy!
One-shot ; Part 1
Ignoring the pain of your ribs, you keep your eyes on the wooden floors of your apartment.
“Will we be safe to talk here?” Peter’s voice is void of emotion and for some reason, it makes you feel guilty about your past actions.
“We will.” Slowly sitting down on the couch to avoid irritating your injury any further, you nudge your head towards your roommate’s door. “ My roommate works the night shift at the hospital.”
“Didn’t think you would need a roommate with everything you steal.”
You withhold a bitter remark, knowing that it would only make things worse. He knew your identity, and while you knew his, he could report you any second. His credibility was higher than yours—a thief who only helped whenever it benefited them.
Gesturing for him to sit, you avoid taking deep breaths, not wanting the ache to worsen. The cuts on your back were stinging again too, probably from when you had fallen to your back when fighting Spider—when fighting Peter. You still couldn’t believe the two were one and the same. Everything was starting to make sense, and on the way here, you finally figured out when he had become the Spiderman too. When he finally stuck it to Flash in the gym, breaking the glass back of the basketball hoop. The Peter you knew before that day would have never done that.
Peter doesn’t sit, opting to stay by the window near the fire escape. He had no intention of leaving, wanting to know everything. Yet he couldn’t find it in himself to get any closer. Not while you wore that suit. “Was it the explosion at Oscorps four years ago?”
Nodding slowly, you stare out the window behind Peter, looking at the Oscorp building in the distance. There had been an explosion at the sister location near the Hudson river. You weren’t even supposed to be there, but your boss asked you to deliver files to the lead researcher and at the time, you weren’t one to say no to anyone, much less a superior. It was merely bad luck, but to everyone you were incredibly fortunate. To be the sole survivor with little injuries? A miracle. It was nauseating, how quickly everything was swept under the rug after. A hefty check made out in your name and you eventually went quiet too. You couldn’t afford to talk, and Oscorps’ lawyers knew that.
“You know my background, Peter. Money talks in this world.” Looking at your apartment, you note the luxuries you were able to buy. All thanks to your ability to teleport.
“So you decided to steal?”
“I decided to survive.”
“Oh, don’t give me that excuse. I saw the look on your face. You enjoyed it.”
“And so what if I did?” You abruptly stand up, ignoring the pain of your ribs. Your eyes still don’t meet his when you speak, “I’m human. We all have shitty desires—urges. Some of us follow through with it, others don’t.”
“At least make eye contact if you’re going to make a statement like that.”
Peter scoffs at you, making you clench your jaw. What you’ve done broke the law, many laws. You were well aware of that, but if he wanted you behind bars, he would have kept you busy until the cops came. Or he would have left, leaving you to find your own way back and inevitably wait until the police had a warrant out for your arrest. But instead, he escorted you back.
Slumping back in your seat, you involuntarily wince. The boy sitting across you shifts his posture, his face softening as he saw it. Leaning forward slightly, Peter clears his throat. “Are you hurt?”
“Why do you care?” Your voice comes out a little sharper than you like, most likely due to the pain you were in.
Peter ignores your comment, making his way towards you. “Where?”
You could feel Peter’s gaze on you as you kept your eyes closed, head tilted up towards the ceiling. “My ribs. And back. Volnov was able to get a few hits in and I fell through his glass table.”
“Let me see?”
“You want me to undress?” You ask jokingly, once again falling into Blink’s habit of deflecting.
“Oh shut it. Where’s your first-aid kit?”
“It’s in the bathroom, under the sink.” Pointing to the door at the end of the hall with your index finger, you gently press your other hand against your ribcage, easing the ache with pressure.
Peter is quick to come back, holding the kit in his hand. You move your hand away, not wanting him to see how badly you were hurt. The brunette in front of you pulls a stool out from the counter table in your kitchen. He tilts his head down towards it, a silent command for you to sit. Not having it in you to argue, you do as he says.
Sitting down, you remove the straps from your suit. Hesitating, you lift the top of your shirt carefully placing it on the floor. Averting your eyes, you can hear Peter let out a huff of annoyance. You weren’t sure if he was irritated by you getting yourself into messes, or how Volnov injured you. You didn’t have the courage to ask, neither of you speaking on your current relationship. Blink and Spiderman were one thing, Peter and (Y/n) another.
“I’m going to clean the wounds on your back, do you mind leaning forward a little?”
Nodding, you do as he asks. Resting your forearms on your knees, you let your head fall. Feeling a sting on your back, you curse under your breath. Peter is quick to apologize, working faster so you no longer had to endure the stinging. Well if he was angry with you, he was excellent at hiding it.
“You’re good.” Peter tells you, setting the antiseptic down on the counter. Grabbing the compression bandages from the kit, he makes his way towards you. Kneeling down in front of you, he clears your throat, causing you to lift your head up in reaction. Waving the bandages in front of you, you understand his silent message. Standing up slowly, Peter examines the large bruise on your ribs. His gloved hand gently grazes the injury, something stirring in his stomach.
“Not all of us can heal like you.” You comment, breaking the silence. His touch sent shivers down your back, but you were adamantly ignoring the feelings you had. Now that you knew each other's identities, there was no chance of saving this relationship. If there even was one to begin one. With Spiderman, he was your…you weren’t even sure. All you knew was that you liked it.
Peter doesn’t respond to your remark, his eyes only meeting yours. Holding one end of the bandage against your skin, he begins to wrap it around your waist. As he makes sure it’s secure, your hand reaches out, gripping his shoulder as you curse. He mutters another apology, wincing himself.
Looking up at him, you don’t remove your hand from his shoulder. Swallowing a lump in your throat, you find the courage to speak about what happened.
“We should talk.”
“Do you want to talk?”
The two of you speak at the same time, causing a murmur of apologies to escape both of your mouths for cutting off the other. Closing your eyes, you pull away to clean up the mess surrounding the two of you.
“You go first.” You tell Peter, your back facing him as you pack everything up.
He clears his throat, and you hear him shuffling. A small smile forms, reminding you of how he acted in high school when he arrived late to English. Zipping the kit, you finally face him. Back against the counter, you toy with the zipper while looking at him. Peter forces himself to make eye contact with you, not letting his eyes wander anywhere below your face.
“It’s about the vials at Oscorp—”
The hero stops, his attention flickering to your front door. You don’t hear it, but as the key enters the slot, you realize quickly, your roommate was home. Pushing the stool back into place, you and Peter make your way into your room down the other hall. The moment you close your door, the front door opens.
“(Y/n) are you home?” A soft voice comes out from the kitchen.
“Yeah! What are you doing here so early?” You ask, just opening the door wide enough to stick your head out.
“Oh, Nurse Ackerman let me go early. Apparently a few of the new nurses wanted to get in more hours.”
“Lucky you.”
“Right? Anyways, I brought food from that Thai restaurant we like on the corner. Do you want some?” A red-head appears around the corner, dawning navy scrubs and messy hair.
“I’m good, I just ate.” You lie with ease. “I was going to have a friend come over in a bit…”
“Oh.” The girl in front of you laughs, nodding understandingly as she gathers her food and puts the rest of the fridge. “I got you. I’ll just be blaring music in my room.” Waving goodnight, you close the door and wait for her music to play before speaking to Peter.
Pressing your back against the door, your shoulders relax once her music begins playing.
“That’s your roommate?”
“Yeah, her name’s M.J.” Setting the first-aid kit on your desk, you cross your arms. “I don’t see her often, but she’s super nice.”
“Does she know about your adventures?”
Rolling your eyes at his emphasis on adventures, you cross your arms. “Does Aunt May know about yours?”
The two of you stare down at one another, the tension building. Tossing your gloves at him, which he catches with ease, you look out your window. How you hated how Peter made you feel. Lines were blurring, and you couldn’t deal with that.
“The vials from Oscorp?” Peter asks again, drawing you out of your stupor.
“I don’t know about them.” He gives you a look, as if he didn’t entirely believe you. Eyes widening, you lift your hands in annoyance. “Honestly, I don’t! All I know is that there were rumors amongst staff about a break-in and something going missing. Whatever it was, I wanted no part of it. Everything was kept tightly under wraps, not even some of the higher-ups I work with were informed.”
Brown eyes stare you down, trying to decipher whether you were telling the truth or not.
“And why wouldn’t you want to get involved? That’s a lot of money.”
Scoffing, you give him a pointed look. “I’ve learned to not mess with corporations like Oscorp.”
“Right.” His sarcastic tone snaps something in you. Huffing, you stalk towards him, eyes narrowed.
“If you don’t believe me, why not use that Spidey sense of yours? Or your hearing?”
Peter doesn’t answer you, and you only antagonize him more.
“I can’t use it around you.”
Opening your mouth to give another remark, Peter stands up, effectively silencing you.
“I can’t use it around you because you distract me. You fill my senses and frankly, it’s irritating.”
You’re stunned at his confession, if you could call it that. His annoyance was throwing you off, but you were in the same boat. He looks down at you, and for once you realize how much taller he is than you. Gulping, you don’t break eye contact, refusing to back down. He inhales through his nose, his shoulders tensing slightly.
“It’s irritating.” He repeats.
“I could say the same about you.” You quip, a look of annoyance crossing your features.
Peter runs his fingers through his hair in exasperation, fighting his feelings as he looks at you. He had always wanted to ask you out in high school, and when he finally mustered up the courage, he had become Spiderman. Seeing you live life so brightly, he knew he couldn’t bring you into his mess. It was a heavy burden, and you didn’t deserve any of it. After the explosion at Oscorp, it only cemented his reasoning. He could survive being a friend, if he was even that to you. So long as he got to spend two hours in a class with you, he would accept it. As long as New York was safe, you were safe.
But then Blink appeared, and he was someone who drove him crazy. In a different way. The way you acted as your alias was strikingly different, but as he realized you were her, he could make the connections now. There were similarities, although very difficult to discern. When he had discovered you were Blink, he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to yell at you for your past actions, or kiss you in the heat of the moment. Frankly, when dressing your wounds, he was glad he did neither.
“What are you doing to me?” Peter’s voice was weak, his hands cupping your cheeks as he looked at you with soft eyes.
“Don’t blame—”
Desires.
“Just shut up."
Urges.
Staring into your eyes, feeling the softness of your skin, he presses his lips against yours. Your body relaxes against his, arms dropping from their crossed position. He steps back, hitting the back of his knees against your bed. The two of you fall and Peter is careful to make sure you don’t move too much and strain your ribs.
Breaking the kiss, the two of you quietly pant for air, foreheads pressed against one another. There are butterflies in your stomach and you feel tingles everywhere Peter has touched you. Gripping his suit, the two of you stare into each other's eyes. Never had you wanted to be a better person in this world. Not when it has scorned you so badly, leaving you backed into a corner.
Gaining your powers was a gift. You were no longer forced under the hand of those with power and money. For once, you could hit them as hard as life had hit you. But as you looked at Peter, your eyes searched for something negative. That he was manipulating, that it was all just a ploy to get you to tell him what he wanted, yet you saw nothing but adoration.
Kissing him once more, you cup his face as he tenderly places his hands on your hips.
“I’ll try and do better.”
It was a promise, and though you couldn’t guarantee you would be able to do a complete one-eighty right away. The least you could do was try and make New York a better place. To help those who weren’t gifted with an ability to fight against the corrupters of society.
And for Peter, as he finally got to hold you and no longer feel like he was miles away from you.
That’s all he could ask for.
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