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prismuffin · 1 year

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Masterlist 2:

Full Fanfic Masterlist

Marvel:

How Peter Parker and Steve Rogers react to their crush asking to play with their hair

Hobie Brown helping trans!male!Reader with dysphoria Hobie Brown reminding ftm!Reader not to overbind Hobie Brown turning into a cat and causing chaos in the SpiderSociety

How Miles Morales acts on a rooftop date with another hero Miles Morales reacting to grieving reader Miles Morales being caught wearing his guy crushes hoodie Miles Morales reacting to his crush suddenly asking him out in the middle of a normal conversation Miles Morales with a younger!sister!reader

Platonic!Miguel O'Hara comforting transmale reader after a breakdown Miguel O'Hara reacting to reader coming out as trans (ftm)

Miles Morales and Hobie Brown (separate) reacting to male!Reader with brain issues Miles Morales and Hobie Brown (separate) reacting to male!Reader getting a good grade on an exam

Pavitr Prabhakar and german!male!Reader bonding by learning about each other's cultures

SpiderTeens reacting to gn reader adopting them all

Stranger Things:

Nothing yet!

The Umbrella Academy:

Nothing yet!

Criminal Minds:

Nothing yet!

Hitman Trilogy:

Nothing yet!

Mission: Impossible:

Nothing yet!

FarCry 5:

Nothing yet!

Valorant:

Nothing yet!

Detroit Become Human:

Connor helping male!trans!reader with testosterone shots Connor helping gn!Reader calm down from a panic attack Connor with a s/o who's a maladaptive daydreamer Connor with an insomniac s/o Connor with a s/o who's a wild/active sleeper

Our Life Beginnings & Always:

Nothing yet!

Error 143:

Nothing yet!

Sally Face:

Nothing yet!

WatchDogs Trilogy:

Nothing yet!

COD: Modern Warfare2:

John Price dealing with being a sleep talker

Konig reacting to short!male!Reader climbing him like a tree to see something Konig reacting to short!male!Reader being on his shoulders^^Part 2

Ghost, Konig, and Price (separate) reacting to male!Reader with dermatillomania Ghost and Konig (separate) reacting to having to cuddle up to male!Reader for warmth Ghost and Konig waking up to cuddling male!Reader ^^Part 2 Ghost and Konig (separate) having M!Reader be their gay awakening

The Imperfects:

Nothing yet!

Encanto:

Nothing yet!

Girl From Nowhere:

Nothing yet!

Metal Lords:

Nothing yet!

Dc Universe:

Batfam being jealous of the readers pet/animal Batboys reacting to Tim Drake's "bad-boy" boyfriend Taking care of Batboys (seperately) after they got their wisdom teeth removed Batboys reacting to boyfriend!Reader smacking their ass and running away Batboys + Conner & Wally being caught wearing masc!Readers hoodie Batfam reacting to Tim Drakes boyfriend who is the Jokers son ^^Batfam reacting to Tim Drakes boyfriend who is the Jokers son pt2^^ Batboys reacting to getting hard during training with M!Reader Anthro!Batboys having their ears and tail expose their romantic feelings for male!reader Batfam reacting to Tim Drake making a contract with a demon!male!reader BatBoys reacting to them thinking male!reader called them a goodboy

Sugar Daddy!Bruce Wayne accidentally falling for male!sugar-baby!reader Bruce Wayne with an energetic anti-hero husband

Conner Kent accidentally using X-ray vision on trans!male reader

Male!Justice League members reacting to rogue!reader moving out of Gotham and into their city

Jason Todd reacting to male reader falling asleep on him Jason Todd reacting to a gn reader who can't swim Injured!Jason Todd waking up to Reader in his hospital room

Damian Wayne with a child!brother!Reader Damian Wayne being caught wearing his guy crushes hoodie

Dick Grayson reacting to a very cuddly male reader Dick Grayson waking up his cuddly guy crush Dick Grayson reacting to a sad!male!Reader needing cuddles

Hal Jordan's (Green Lantern) reaction to reader having a lot of lantern rings Hal Jordan (Green Lantern) x recovering!male!Readers Hal Jordan reacting to being bitten by masc!alien!Reader

John Constantine reacting to a food-pusher Reader John Constantine with a werewolf s/o (gn reader) Hungover!John Constantine waking up in a caring Readers bed John Constantine reacting to a male!Reader that reminds him of his younger self ^part 2. John Constantine reacting to similar!male!Reader reading his soul John Constantine being bullied by a cat in a pub John Constantine reacting to a Reader that smokes John Constantine having a demon!Reader be attached to him John Constantine reacting to reader being turned into a baby John Constantine reacting to male!Rader lighting his cigarette with John's

Kid Flash (Wally West) reacting to accidentally courting alien!reader Kid Flash (Wally West) with a night owl boyfriend Kid Flash (Wally West) accidentally petting one of winged!male!Readers arousal zones Kid Flash (Wally West) and winged!male!Reader finally getting together Kid Flash (Wally West) cudding male!naga!Reader Kid Flash (Wally West) with a partner who's part of the BatFamily

Tim Drake reacting to guy crush reader accidentally cuddling him Tim Drake reacting to Rogue!Reader flustering him Tim Drake with a caring and patient boyfriend Tim Drake with a boyfriend who's very physically affectionate

How Superman, Batman, Hal Jordan, The Flash, and John Constantine react to someone handing them the unconscious reader out of the blue How Batman and Superman reacting to their long-term partner being their worst enemy

How Wally West, John Constantine, Hal Jordan, Dick Grayson, and Conner Kent react to falling asleep on their crush (male reader) How Wally West, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, and Conner Kent taking care of their drunk guy crush How Dick Grayson, Wally West, Tim Drake and Conner Kent react to playing seven minutes in heaven with their guy crush How Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, and John Constantine react to their crush asking to play with their hair How Tim Drake and Damian Wayne react to their crush randomly asking them out in the middle of a conversation (seperate) How Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Wally West and Conner Kent (sperately) react to Alien!Panther!Male!Reader cuddling up to them randomly

How Justice League boys react to empathic color!alien reader turning pink around them How Justice League boys react to male!Reader being turned into a cat How the Young Justice League reacts to a male!Reader with an Eating Disorder

—

Back to directory;

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spider-stark · 1 year

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Anti-Hero // Hero x Villain Trope // pt. 2 //

Previous Part

Summary - Reader and Peter are both living double lives. Spider-Man is considered a national hero, while the reader is viewed as a criminal. In their personal lives, they're both head over heels for one another, their friendship finally blossoming into something more. But as vigilantes? It's complicated

Warnings - Blood, mentions of kidnapping/abuse, knife violence,

Word Count - 4.6k

Your foot bounced against the footrest of the barstool you were sat in, your patience wearing thinner and thinner with each passing minute. Another glance at your phone as it laid face up on the counter, confirming that it had now been twenty-five minutes past when you and Peter were supposed to meet.

Five more minutes, you told yourself, only five.

Peter Pan’s doorbell chimed as soon as the thought crossed your mind, as if Peter knew that you were getting painfully close to assuming that he had ditched you.

“Y/n!” He sounded like he had run several blocks just to get here, gasping for breath as he jogged over to where you sat. Your foot stilled at the sight of him, the anxiety of being stood-up immediately dissipating.

He slid onto the stool beside you, still struggling to steady his breathing. You grinned at him, and the sight only made his lungs feel tighter. “You’re late, Parker.”

A knowing tone, yet so light and playful, and it somehow held the power to wash away all the defeats he had faced today. It was one of the things Peter loved most about you, the way that you could melt all of his stress away, without even lifting a finger.

“I’m sorry.” He choked the apology out between labored breaths, his body finally settling enough to let him try to speak.

While Peter hadn’t run several blocks to get here, he did frantically swing a few dozen blocks, his muscles screaming out in pain the entire time. He was thankful that the annoying girl from earlier had been telling the truth when she said he would recover from the toxin, but he only managed to regain control over his motor skills with enough time to change clothes and come straight to Peter Pan’s to meet you.

She also could have mentioned that he would feel like he got hit by a bus afterwards.

“I started to think you were standing me up.” You admitted.

“Never!” Peter blurted the word out, squinting slightly under the fluorescent lights that only added to the pounding in his head. “Today just felt kind of… paralyzing, I guess.” He couldn’t help but chuckle at his own pun, knowing it would fly right over your head. “Had a hard time getting myself moving.”

Concern suddenly washed over your features, brows pulling together. “Do you feel sick or something?”

You didn’t wait for his answer, leaning forwards on your stool and placing the back of your hand against his forehead. The sudden contact had a blush creeping up his neck, his face beginning to turn red. “You do feel a bit warm.” You hummed with a frown. “You should’ve texted me if you didn’t feel good, we could’ve rescheduled.”

“No!” Another too-quick response, only deepening the crimson shade now painting his cheeks.“I feel great, promise.” He awkwardly cleared his throat, trying to sound a little less, well, excitable. “Just a rough day, ya know? Nothing worth rescheduling over! But I’m still really sorry that I’m late.”

Peter already wanted nothing more than to throw that sorry criminal in jail, if not for being a thief than for attempting to ruin his plans with you. God, they knew just how to get under his skin. He tried to shake the thoughts of them from his mind, wanting to focus entirely on you, his mind free of irritating distractions.

Today might have kicked his ass, but there was no way he would miss out on coming to see you. He struggled to make time for ‘Peter Parker’ things while managing to balance his duties as Spider-Man, but when it came to you? He would gladly shove Spider-Man to the side when possible.

“I get it.” You reassured him, a soft smile that had his heart melting. “My day wasn’t that great either, but that’s just how it goes sometimes, yeah?”

It really hasn't been a great day for you. Getting away from Spider-Man was the only thing that had gone right today. The job you were on earlier when Spidey had caught up to you ended up being a total bust after faulty intel led to your target getting away before you could even make a move. It threw things off for you—left you without a profit and forced you to evaluate your sources.

“Well,” you cleared the brief silence between the two of you, “do you wanna get started?”

Peter only stared at you, those beautiful brown eyes filled with little other than complete confusion as his mind lagged behind. You giggled at how dumbfounded he looked, and while he was slightly embarrassed, he also savored the sound of your laugh.

“On studying.” You clarified with your index finger tapping against the garishly colored chemistry textbook laid on the counter. “Our test is next week and I really don’t wanna fail Mr. Harrington’s class.”

Peter’s mouth formed a perfect O shape, his head nodding along as you reminded him of the reason why the two of you were meeting up today. Truth be told, he had been purposely letting himself forget about the ‘study’ part of your study date.

“Oh, yeah.” He shook his head a bit, keeping his gaze focused on the coffee-stained countertop in hopes that you wouldn’t see that he was still blushing. “Sorry, I’m still not all here yet.”

“We can still reschedule, ya know? If you’re just not feeling up to this right now.” You hesitantly reminded him, silently hoping that he would say no, that he would insist that he stay. It had been days since the two of you made these plans, and you had been looking forward to spending time with him.

“No, really, I’m fine!” Peter answered your silent pleading, adding a smile. “I think we need to be on page 279.”

You nodded in response, returning the expression before moving to flick through the pages of the book.

To be honest, Peter really couldn’t comprehend why you needed his help to pass Harrington’s class. In nearly every other subject you were at the top of your class, serving as one of his biggest academic competitors at Midtown. What he didn’t know, however, was that the only reason you needed his help was because of certain distractions in class.

Chemistry was the only class the two of you had together, and unfortunately that meant that the majority of it was spent with you staring at the back of Peter’s head and barely listening to a word Mr. Harrington said (too busy daydreaming about what it would be like to run your fingers through his gorgeous wavy hair). Your little crush had ultimately led to you just barely passing the class, which had turned out to be quite convenient, as it served as an excuse to ask Peter for help and get the chance to hangout with him outside of school.

“Oh c’monnn.” You groaned as you examined the page, immediately filled with dread when you read scientific notation printed in big bold letters.

“I promise it’s really not that hard!” Peter tried to assure you, hiding his amusement at your dramatic reaction as you pressed your forehead against the book, little sounds of protests still falling from your mouth. “You’ve got this, mkay? I’ve got full faith in you.”

“As sweet as that is, Parker,” your close proximity to the paper muffled your speech as you refused to face him, “math is actually my arch-nemesis. I’m horrible at it.”

Besides Spider-Man, you jokingly thought to yourself.

“It’s not nearly as bad as it sounds though!” Peter continued to make promises that did little to ease your dread. “Let’s just give it a try.”

You turned your head to the side just a bit, cheek still flush against the book as you looked over at him from the corner of your eye. “Do I even need to know how to do this? Like, if I don’t pursue a career in chemistry, will I ever need to actually understand scientific notation?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Give me an example.”

“I don’t know, what if you wanna figure out how many drops of water are in a river? You’d need scientific notation.”

You furrowed your brows at him, although still amused by the response. “Why would I ever wanna know that?”

Peter’s shoulders lifted into a shrug, an action he swiftly regretted as a burning pain coursed through his forearm, a reminder of the wound he sustained earlier that hadn’t quite healed yet. He gritted his teeth at the sensation, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Whoa.” You quickly straighten your posture, staring at him cautiously. “Are you good?”

He forced out a quiet mhm sound as he bit down on the inside of his cheek, desperately hoping the feeling would subside. Peter wasn’t used to his healing abilities being so impaired, yet another side effect of the toxin, and he had forgotten just how much it hurt to be injured.

“Are you sure?” You asked again, clearly not convinced by his less-than-impressive attempt at hiding his discomfort. “Is it your shoulder or back or something?”

Peter felt your hand coming towards him, his Spider-senses snapping him out of his current agony as you hovered just inches above the covered wound. He reached out and grabbed your wrist so suddenly that it made you gasp, shocked by how fast he had moved.

“Sorry.” He apologized, immediately loosening his grip. Your eyes remained wide, the shock still evident alongside a bit of suspicion. “I think I pulled something in my shoulder the other day and it’s still sorta tender to touch, ya know?”

He already felt guilty for the lie, but it was the best he could come up with to ensure you wouldn’t try to reach for him again. Coming up with lies was already difficult for him, and he had no clue how he’d be able to craft a story for how he ended up with a giant slice taken out of his arm if you found out.

“You really have the worst luck, don’t you?” You mused, your hand retreating back to your lap as you spoke. “I still have trouble believing that last week you accidentally ran into that streetlight and gave yourself a black eye!”

Peter laughed nervously, thinking back to the moment. Funny enough, he hadn’t really been lying about that one. Sure, he had been swinging and not running, but he did hit a streetlight. “What can I say? I’m just not the most coordinated.” He fidgeted in his seat, an action you equated to embarrassment.

In reality, the action had been fueled by anxiety. There had been too many close calls lately, too many instances where he had to make up an excuse for a bruise or a cut or whatever else, especially with the new girl running around. He was running out of lies to tell, and more than that, he was getting tired of having to lie.

“Well at least try and be more careful, alright?” You teased him, though your concern for him was still evident. While he might’ve hated lying about his injuries, he did quite enjoy the way you’d dote over him whenever you’d discover a new one, always desperate for your affection in whatever way he could receive it. “If I’m gonna pass chemistry then I’m gonna need my tutor in one piece!”

Peter grinned, returning your teasing tone, “If you’re gonna pass chemistry then you’re gonna need to learn scientific notation.”

You jutted your bottom lip out in a pout, a low groan following suit. “Fine.” You reached for the book, sliding it closer to the two of you while scooting your stool a bit closer to Peter’s. “But you owe me.”

“I owe you?” He shot you a bewildered stare, struggling not to laugh.

You nodded. “Mhm.”

“I’m the one helping you pass chemistry.” He noted, shifting his index finger from himself to you as he spoke. “So technically wouldn’t you be the one that owes me?”

“Nope. Pretty sure I was right. You owe me.” You feigned complete seriousness, mocking him by pointing your finger in his direction.

He decided to play along, electing to ignore the fact that you’re just procrastinating studying. “Okay, fine. So what do I owe you?”

You paused for a moment, a mischievous look appearing on your face, causing Peter to raise a brow at you. “A date.” You declared confidently, taking advantage of the opportunity. “A real one. No school stuff or anything.”

Peter felt his heart skip in his chest.

“Deal.”

Maybe learning scientific notation was worth it.

Coming to Queens was a risky move, one that you didn’t like to make often. It was one of two places in the city that you liked to avoid—the other being Hell’s Kitchen—in an attempt to try and avoid running into anyone with devil horns or spiderwebs.

Luckily, your line of work typically kept you out of the ‘problem’ areas of the city. The majority of your targets were New York's wealthiest, the kind of people that wouldn’t so much as dream of stepping foot outside of Manhattan.

You much preferred meeting them in their own territory, finding it all the more enjoyable to toy with them in the places where they felt safest. But, sometimes, that just wasn’t a possibility for one reason or another. Despite that, bringing your business into Spider-Man’s self proclaimed home territory was always a dangerous move.

In this case, though, it was unavoidable.

For months you had kept a close eye on councilman Rupert Fletcher, a man that many others in your circle had tried to go after, only to fail time after time. At first, you struggled to understand how so many accomplished thieves had somehow been stumped on such a painfully average man.

Despite Fletcher's status as a councilman, he was of little importance, his wealth being the only thing to put a target on his back. On the surface, he lived a rather average life of a man in his position.

He owned a sizable penthouse on the Upper East Side that he shared with his wife and their french bulldog. A quick peek at his schedule revealed that his weekdays were typically spent in the office, the deviation being an occasional conference. His weekends were always the same, a trip to the country club in Spring Valley to decompress and unwind.

There were sizable gaps in his schedule, several windows of time where his apartment was left unoccupied, with his weekend trips to the country club and his wife’s recent trip back to her home country for family matters—essentially meaning that Rupert Fletcher was every thief’s wet dream. Yet, even the craftiest of them all came out empty handed, claiming the man’s home was unusually bare. There was nothing of much importance in it, no safes filled with cash, no lavish jewelry. It was painfully basic, appearing as little more than a model home. Every one that dared to go after him all left the same: empty handed.

You started to think you hit a dead end with him, after questioning every single person in your circle, desperate to dig up something on him. That is until a tiny girl by the name of Red made an offhand comment, one she clearly thought was of little importance.

“The best I got out of it was this Dukes of Hazzard keychain,” she flashed a disturbing grin, the street lights illuminating the silver caps on her teeth, “better than nothin, right?”

It was better than nothing. A lot better.

While the keychain itself was rather stupid and not something you cared about, there had been a dingy key dangling off of it, a tag attached that read: StorageMart #813. At first you considered the thought that it had belonged to Red, but given the fact that a pristine Bugatti key hung alongside it, you quickly decided that it must’ve been Fletchers.

That same night, you broke into the office of the StorageMart that night, combing through their records until you found payment receipts for unit 813. It hadn’t shocked you when you saw it was purchased under a different last name: Petrov. You recognized it as his wife’s maiden name, a fact learned through your prior research on him. With confirmation that it was his unit, you wasted no time with swiping a key from the utility office and heading straight for the unit.

Its contents were a mystery to you, your imagination running wild. What could it be? Diamonds? Gold bars? A Dukes of Hazzard boxset? You weren’t sure, and truthfully, you didn’t care all that much as long as it was something of value. You didn’t know what he was hiding in the unit, but what you did know was that Rupert Fletcher was a bad man, and he deserved to pay for it.

And discovering what he had worked so hard to keep secret only cemented that fact.

The first thing you saw was a mattress laid out on the cold cement floor, a tattered blanket with the thickness of a sheet of newspaper spread across it. Beside it was a dingy orange bucket, the scent of what was inside practically overwhelming your senses entirely. You almost considered slamming the door shut, almost decided to cut your losses and get out of there before you emptied the contents of your stomach on the floor and left evidence of your presence.

But then, you heard it. A faint voice, small and fragile, the words in a language you didn’t know. You didn’t need to understand what she said to know who she was, though, to know that you had finally caught Fletcher in his biggest crime of all.

A bit of gossip tends to go a long way. It took a bit of work to find out where the women in Fletcher’s wife’s inner circle like to hang out, but it turned out to be well worth the struggle as all of them sat amongst themselves at lunch and chatted about how she had been threatening divorce months prior, and their theories of what he had done to her upon finding out, entirely unaware of the listening ear just a table over. A bit more digging led to gaining even more intel on Fletcher’s past tumultuous relationships, only furthering the suspicions.

“Ms. Petrov?” You purposely opted to avoid use of her married name, hoping that it would indicate to her that you were there to help, not to cause further harm.

The woman was emaciated and looked as if she were just days away from death, and you struggled to hide your shock. “I’m gonna get you out of here, alright?” A promise you intended on keeping.

A huge part of you wanted to take the story public, to take pictures of the unit before he could destroy any evidence she was here and send it straight to the Daily Bugle. Jameson was an asshole, but he was never one to miss out on a good story. But, despite your desire to see Fletcher’s mugshot on the news, you bit your tongue.

It wasn’t your story to share. And, even if Petrov had wanted to come clean and expose him to the world, men like Fletcher were rarely forced to deal with the consequences of what they’d done. He was too wealthy, too well-known, too powerful.

Which was exactly why you were back here in Queens, at the same shabby StorageMart you had pulled Fletcher’s wife from just a few days ago. She was safe, staying in a women's shelter upstate, already beginning to plan her trip back home where she would be away from Fletcher for good. There was just one thing she needed before she could make her escape.

“Thanks Rupey.” You sang over your shoulder, lazily wiping the ruby stained blade against your pants, “It was a pleasure doing business with ya.”

He coughed a few obscenities in your direction, but made no move towards you as you headed towards the door of unit 813, too weak to move from where he laid on the floor. Everyone liked to put on a good show at the end, run their mouth just enough to make themselves feel like they put up a fight. You usually ignored it. Usually.

“How much did you take?” He spat in your direction, your footsteps falling silent as you paused by the door.

You didn’t like his tone, the arrogance in his voice, his domineering attitude. You were a bit shocked that he had any snide remarks left in him, and even more shocked that he could even form words after you knocked two of his teeth loose.

“I took what I needed.” You assured him, your own tone calm and collected in comparison to his. “And then some. Gotta make a profit in this business somehow, Rupe.”

His wife had told you he would be here tonight, promised that he came by every other day just to chuck some food in her direction and try to convince her to reconsider her decision to leave him. Waiting for him was easy, since she said that Fletcher liked to stick to a tight schedule, and incapacitating him was even easier.

A quick slash to the forehead, just a half an inch above his brows. It was the easiest way to stun someone, there were enough capillaries in the forehead to cause profuse bleeding that would eventually impair their vision, making it even easier to keep control over the situation. Immobilizing him wasn’t hard either, a quick jab to his right leg, maybe two or so inches deep. Deep enough that the average person wouldn’t be able to keep their weight on it without passing out from the pain, but nowhere deep enough that he would bleed out from the wound.

After that, it was as easy and slipping his phone out of his pocket, forcing him to use touch-ID to get into his bank account (threatening to cut off someone's thumb makes it quite easy to get them to follow instructions) and then transferring a couple hundred thousand dollars to an untraceable bank account you had a friend set up for his wife. Fletcher had been the one to ruin her life and damn near kill her, it was only fair that he was the one to pay for her new one, especially if that was the only justice she’d ever get.

“They’re gonna find you–” Fletcher swore, his strained voice growing louder as you moved to open the door, “I have cameras set up in here! There’s cameras all over this fucking property! The cops are gonna find you!”

You gave him a quick glance over your shoulder, your mask still secured over your face, confident that the NYPD would find nothing that could trace back to you. Not any more than they already had, that is. “You’re not gonna tell them shit.” You laughed at him, rolling your eyes, “You think I wasn’t smart enough to hack into your stupid security cameras and duplicate the footage? I have hours of it, Fletcher. Hours of you torturing your wife, keeping her caged up in here like some sort of animal.” He didn’t respond, barely moved a muscle as his face paled. “You tell a single soul what happened here tonight, and I’ll send the footage off to every news station in New York. Got it?”

You didn’t need to wait for confirmation, aware that men like Fletcher would do anything to avoid bad press. He would make up a story, the same way all of them did. A mugging gone wrong or some stupid lie, anything to paint himself the victim and keep his wrongdoings away from the public. You looked forward, savoring the feeling of the cold Winter air kissing your skin as you let the door slam shut behind you, relaxation washing over you at the thought of finally getting to go home.

“Do I wanna know what you were doing in there?”

Well, so much for relaxation.

You glanced up, immediately noticing Spider-Boy crouched on the unit across from 813. “What are you even doing here?” You asked him, an exasperated groan following after. “Like, seriously, do you have a tracker on me or something? I’m gonna get you one of those little collars with a bell on it, the kind for cats, ya know? That way you at least can’t sneak up on me.”

Spider-Man narrowed his eyes at you, and your lip curled in response. You didn’t like the way the whites of his mask moved to match his expressions, finding it a bit unnerving. “What were you doing?” He asked again, ignoring your previous sarcastic remarks.

“Why don’t you go look for yourself?” You jutted your thumb over your shoulder, pointing towards the unit door where Fletcher’s groans of pain should still be faintly heard. “Cause I’m a bit tired from doing your job and all, so I’d rather skip the small talk tonight and head home.”

He scoffed, still perched atop the building, staring down at you. “Doing my job?”

You nodded. “Uh, yeah. Did I stutter or something?”

“How were you doing my job?” He rephrased his question, annoyed by your constant habit of avoidance.

“Do your own research for once, Spider-Kid.” You told him lazily, shaking your head as you began to continue your walk towards the exit gates of the StorageMart. “Maybe then you’ll realize we aren’t quite as different as you think.”

The nickname annoyed Peter, but he tried to shake it off, aware that it was just another way you tried to get under his skin and throw him off. He swiftly jumped from the building, landing directly in your path to keep you from leaving. Before his feet even touched the ground you already had a knife drawn, as if you had predicted his movement.

“While I commend you for wanting to stop me,” you spoke slowly, the tip of your blade pointed at his throat—it was an empty threat, as you knew that you would never strike what would most certainly be a fatal blow against him, although he didn’t know that and chose to keep a safe enough distance. “There’s a man in there that’s in desperate need of medical attention. I suggest you run off to be a hero and get him to a hospital.”

Peter’s eyes shifted towards the unit, his amplified hearing allowing him to hear Fletcher’s heartbeat from where he stood. You were right; and while he didn’t sound like he was on the verge of death, he needed a hospital, and a fight with you was one he wasn’t confident he would win—not quick enough, at least, to justify leaving a wounded man to suffer.

“We’re very different.” He promised you, taking a step back to show that he was backing down. To show that he was a hero, that he would prioritize a civilian's life over stroking his own ego by attempting to capture you right now. The two of you were nothing alike—Peter worked to protect this city, locking criminals up and fighting alongside the Avengers. And you? “You’re a villain.”

You snorted at his dramatic choice of words, still armed and prepared to strike if he made a move towards you. He didn’t, though, taking a few more steps backwards towards Fletcher’s unit.

“Villain’s such a harsh word.” You clicked your tongue, chastising him, making his blood boil as he had to use all the restraint in his body to prevent himself from going after you as you readied yourself to dart for the exit.

“I prefer anti-hero.”

tag list: @llovergirlll @hpchosen1 @vintageoldfashion

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whyareyouhere66 · 9 months

Note

Omg cool I have an angsty request 😈(if you’re comfortable writing it<3)

Kind of Tom!Peter Parker x Male!Stark!reader x Tony Stark(platonic obviously) ??

Reader has a rocky relationship with his dad Tony, just wants his attention, to be seen by Tony etc. but once Peter joins and takes Tonys full attention reader just automatically hates him for ‘stealing his dad from him’. As time goes on reader just gets more hateful and jealous of Peter, maybe getting into fights with Peter on purpose. Suddenly there’s a new villain/anti-hero (??) that’s been interfering with there plans or just wrecking havoc to go after Peter. Plot twist when they finally catch them/they’re too hurt to keep fighting, it’s revealed as reader. You can make it as angsty as u want!

(A.K.A. Reader is Loki, Peter is Thor and Tony is Odin lol)

AHH THIS

I love this trope-

So glad you requested this, (and thank you for checking stuff first) and enjoy

Also note that I’m not too fresh on the marvel timeline, if you notice anything that doesn’t exactly align with the movie than I’m sorry just brush past it- this also might be the longest fic I’ve ever written so

Implied to be set around the start of Peter’s Spider-Man stuff.

Look What You Made Me Do

Male Stark Reader x Avengers

“If I loved you, was a promise….

Would you break it, if you’re honest?”

[idontwannabeyouanymore, Billie Eillish, 2017]

Cw: violence/fighting, Tony being a bad dad, slightest mentions of drinking, angst Kind of jumping straight into it too-

I’ll fix a few things later I’m tired I want this one to be out and about

Named after a Taylor song, starting with a Billie lyric 💪💪

If you were to ask anyone about the wealthiest men in modern day New York, it’s inevitable for Tony Stark to appear somewhere on that list.

He’s rich, handsome, a superhero. New York’s knight in shining armor.

Most believe his life is a dream, somehow oblivious to the fact that maybe a superhero doesn’t live life in the dream house. But when he’s made his brand through money, fancy houses, big parties, and shiny military weapons it’s easy for people to see no further than surface level.

That isn’t the case for his son, though.

From a wealth aspect of it- the young Stark knows how grateful he is, how grateful he should be, for his father.

If it wasn’t for him, he wouldn’t be currently sitting in this large bedroom, with a view most would pay a couple grand for, wouldn’t be surrounded by the various expensive objects linked to his little interests. It doesn’t even matter how much Y/n would insist on paying- he never seems to think much of it. Maybe it’s his way of showing affection.

That’s what Y/n hopes, at least.

Because if not- there’s not much there. Tony Stark has never been much of an affectionate person, some may blame it on his own father. Others would blame it on the business- no time for distractions on a long days work.

But neither of those reasons matter- for all his son ever wanted is for Tony to love him the way he wants him to.

Static crackles through Y/n’s small speaker, and quickly the boy perks up. A short glance over and he finds the old Queen record spinning aimlessly, with the tone arm at the end of its songs.

Pushing himself off the bed, he walks over to the stand where Tony’s old record player sits. Taking the arm off- he flips the record over to side b, before returning it to its place.

The intro of Queen’s “Hammer to Fall” begins ringing from the speaker, and a small, satisfied smile grows on Y/n’s face.

He hums the beat, nodding his head with it while turning back to his bed- but something catches his eye.

Outside, there’s two figures standing out front. One eyebrow raises, Y/n slowly steps closer to the window.

“Who-?”

Recognizing his dad, dressed in his best suit, Y/n leans closer. The other figure isn’t quite as tall as Tony, and looks quite obviously nervous.

Y/n furrows his eyebrows.

….That’s Peter Parker.

What the hell is he doing at Stark’s house?

***

The sound of a backpack falling to the ground echoes through the foyer- and immediately it’s a sigh of relief. The sweet, sweet air conditioning here is heavenly in contrast to the one at school.

Y/n faintly feels a vibration in his pocket- grabbing it only to see multiple notifications coming from a group chat.

‘What are they on…’ he wonders, scrolling through countless messages worth of nonsense. He goes to reply, when-

“Y/n!”

His head snaps up at the voice, echoing out from the couch.

‘didn’t realize he was home…’ he looks back at the window, finding his father’s car parked in the driveway.

“Oh.”

Deciding the group chat can wait, the teen wanders to where his father sits.

“What’s up?” Immediately Y/n sees the scattered papers piling on top of one another on the coffee table, the short crystal glass filled halfway with rum. You’d think he’d wait until at least five, but that’s not the Stark way.

“I found a uh, form on the coffee table,” his voice sounds bored, tired, “something about textbooks for school?”

Y/n notices the forms sitting at the edge farthest from Tony, as if they’d been pushed away as far as they could go.

“Oh, uh, yeah.�� He says awkwardly, looking at the dirty laces of his shoes, “it’s fine, I got it.”

“Well I can pay for them, if that’s what you’d like.” The eldest Stark shrugs, finally looking at his son from over the rim of his glasses.

Y/n almost feels embarrassed- when had he asked for that? He shakes his head, though it doesn’t hide the surprised look on his face.

“No, no you don’t have to-“

“Oh please, I got it, education is our future or something, right?” Tony shrugs, taking off his glasses and beginning to stand up from his chair, headed for the black leather wallet he’d left on the dining table.

Y/n isn’t quite sure why he’s now rushing to step in front of his dad- there isn’t much harm in the gesture after all. Maybe he just doesn’t want the weight of depending on his father for everything to lay on his shoulders. Either way, excuses are already falling from his mouth.

“You really don’t have to, dad-“

“You’re acting like I’m handing you the presidents treasury,” Tony deadpans, “besides, you don’t have a job.”

Y/n pauses.

“Wha- yes, I do-“ does his dad really not know about his job?

“Look, it doesn’t matter, I can get them used anyways-“

Before he can take one step closer, a nervous voice quips up from the doorway and ends the race for the wallet.

“Um, Mr. Stark?”

Curiously, Y/n and his dad snap their heads to see who has just joined them.

“Peter-?”

Peter Parker stands in the large door way, curled into himself with his backpack strap folded between his fist. His eyes are wide and questioning, looking between his classmate and his idol as if he had walked into the wrong room.

Suddenly, Tony’s shoulders drop- and he’s no longer interested in any textbook or wallet.

“Ah, Parker, didn’t think you’d make it.” He says bluntly, strutting away from his son and towards the obviously nervous boy.

“Here, sit down kid.”

With the man’s hand pressed into his shoulder blade, Peter has no choice but to follow him towards the various seats lining the dining table. And from the side- Y/n watches, absolutely lost.

After he had seen his father and Peter talking, he kept it to himself. Knowing the boy, he had simply assumed Peter was asking for an autograph or a picture, just like half of the city.

But now, he is in his house. At his table.

What the hell is this?

“Um,” Y/n’s voice sounds blunt, almost too similar to his father- who’s already sitting down across from Peter with his arms crossed and his eyebrows raised, as if this was a press conference.

Peter looks at him first, while his father throws a glance over his shoulder.

“What’s this?” Y/n asks, pointing to the strange teenage boy sitting down in his seat. Tony tiredly leans back in the chair, twisting to the side just slightly so he could look at Y/n head on.

“Y/n, this is Peter, Peter, this is Y/n.”

“Uh, yeah, we know each other.” Peter pipes up, giving Y/n the shortest, most awkward smile it seems he could muster. Y/n’s face stays blank.

“Yeah, I meant what is he doing here?”

Tony doesn’t seem at all phased by the rude undertones of Y/n’s question.

“Peter is gonna work as my intern for a little while, I’m training him.”

Y/n’s eyebrows furrow.

“For what-“

“Hey, quit interrupting, will you?” Tony dismisses him with the wave of his hand, turning around so he’s fully facing Peter. And Y/n lingers there, processing. He doesn’t like feeling like a shadow, not in his own home especially, but that’s the feeling that begins to overtake him.

Intern…?

He tries understanding what that means- there’s many possibilities. Assistant, maybe. But when he looks between his dad and his classmate one last time, seeing that he’s been nearly forgotten in the room (aside from the short glances from Peter’s end) he turns around to retreat, fists clenched.

His dad has had interns before, Peter likely won’t be much different. Possibly.

***

It’s been 5 weeks.

And multiple times, for each of those weeks, Peter has been somewhere mixed into the tangle of Tony Stark’s extensive schedule, far more entangled than Y/n has been for the past few years.

He shows up to dinner, trains at the Avenger’s tower. He comes knocking on the door randomly asking for life advice, or something- he’s everywhere.

It wasn’t even until week 4 that Y/n discovered the truth behind his sudden presence, when he saw the suit for the first time.

He has his own suit, god can you believe it?

Y/n watches on as Tony seems to easily bring Peter under his wing- hating how he has to avoid the burning green envy that burns his ears. How has Tony managed to take on the father figure role to Peter, when he barely manages that role with his own son?

‘It shouldn’t hurt this bad,’ y/n will think to himself, ‘you’re independent, relying on him will only make it harder in the long run.’

But he couldn’t help the hardened glare that arose every time he saw his dad, his own dad, bonding with someone else the way he had been wanting for what- 16 years?

Even now, sitting at the table, while the teen stares into the bowl of cereal in front of him, it’s just so irking to think about.

His spoon scrapes the edges of the bowl, gathering the now soggy cheerios into a cluster in its silver dip. Then, they get lost in his mouth. Rinse and repeat- he does it over and over while staring a blazing hole into the wall.

What is Peter doing that he can’t?

“Mr. Stark-“

Speak of the devil.

Y/n’s grip on the spoon tightens.

Peter comes stumbling into the room, out of breathe as if he sprinted all the way here. He doesn’t even knock anymore, Y/n thinks, he’s made himself at home.

“Kid? What’re you doing here?”

The nickname sends a shivering twitch through Y/n’s already sore muscles, tugging his face so he can’t control the annoyed look that comes through.

They’re talking to each other now, Peter trying to tell a story far too quickly for either of them to follow. Y/n blocks their voices out.

His chair scrapes against the floor, and he grabs his bag to leave.

“I’m going to school.” He says loudly, cutting off their conversation.

“Oh, I guess I gotta go too-“

“No,” Peter freezes, looking at Y/n curiously, “no, no stay here longer why don’t you? Practically your house.” Venom leaks from his words, the sarcasm so loud it makes Peter flinch.

“Y/n,” Tony groans, rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly. Y/n’s stare only hardens.

“What?” He snaps, now looking at his father.

“Really?” Is all that Tony manages, before Y/n is rolling his eyes and spinning on his heel.

“(F/n) is waiting for me.” He grumbles, snatching his phone and stomping out of the room.

How does his dad not get it? Is he so blind he can’t even see his own blatant favoritism?

The look of exhaustion displayed on his face would make you think hes working day and night having to put up with Y/n’s attitude- yet he’s unaware he’s exactly what’s causing it.

Y/n doesn’t want to blame Peter, in the back of his mind he knows that it’s his dad’s fault. But it feels like his father is being stolen.

But can it really be theft if there wasn’t much of him in the first place?

Y/n knows that he’s picking all the fights, starting all the arguments just so that twisted part of his head gets some satisfaction.

It shouldn’t be working so well.

The young Stark doesn’t return home until it’s just about dark outside, his backpack hanging loosely off his shoulders.

He walks the long halls of his home, past the doors that could either be a guest bathroom or a weapon closet. Even if there’s more entryways than doors, his father opting for large empty frames, he walks the length of it with no specific destination in mind.

He isn’t too sure where he’s headed anyways, considering he’s passed the way to his bedroom already.

Through half lidded eyes he guides himself through this maze of a house, bitter jealousy bubbling in his lungs. It’s such a haunting thought, a looming presence, and he wishes he could push it down the drain but it seems that he can’t.

“Stupid, stupid Peter…” he mumbles, hand grazing the wall beside him.

Ned’s voice still rings in his ears, breathy from how he had been exercising for most of the class.

“You don’t know what he looks like- what if he’s like seriously burnt?”

“I wouldn’t care, I would still love him for the person he is on the inside.”

Of course it caught their attention- Peter’s little crush on Liz wasn’t hard for most to notice.

“Peter knows Spider-Man!”

How horrible.

Across the room, Y/n’s head snapped to where the pair was on the gym floor- Peter’s jaw slacked. It didn’t matter how much he tried to quickly say otherwise- Flash already had slid down the climbing rope with another remark slick on the edge of his tongue.

And Y/n watched on, eye twitching, feeling how his friends slapped his arm in amusement.

“I can’t tell if he’s for real or not-“ F/n mumbled from next to him. Y/n’s eyes never tore away from the scene playing out ahead, tongue poking the inside of his cheek.

“Yeah,” and his eyes squeezed shut, “me neither.”

Y/n’s fists curl together, knuckles scraping the wall for a moment before he’s pulling away.

It’s so frustrating.

He’s walking further down the corridor, eyes sliding open just in time to catch a door left slightly ajar- and he pauses.

He’s passed the door many times, no doubt, but this time it’s different. There’s something pulling him inside, an unknown source that’s too intriguing to walk past.

Slowly, he pushes open the door. And there it is.

Old bins and cabinets with junk gadgets shoved inside- worn blueprints from his fathers old work. One eyebrow raises, cogs turning and grinding in his head.

There’s some things still in tact, some that have been broken apart and scattered about. Y/n kneels down to observe closer.

He feels the smooth surface of a metal clasp against his fingertips, grazing the jumbled objects.

This is his answer.

The backpack slides off his shoulders, thumping on the ground beside him. This room is one that his father doesn’t visit much anymore, now much more caught up in other things such as the Avengers, Peter, the scattered piles of paperwork that seem to constantly consume him.

And in the corner, there’s a bend in the wall partially hidden by a cabinet- if you were to tuck something inside, no one could see from the door frame.

Y/n already feels his mind blooming with ideas as he skims over the various parts and pieces in front of him.

If he can’t live up to his fathers standards, his fathers name,

then he’ll make his own.

***

Multiple nights pass, weeks go by and Y/n finds himself spending the time after dinner until midnight cooped up in Tony’s old gear room.

He likes to think it’s a family trait, something tying him to the Stark name, also known as his skill for parts. He can take a few glances at both his own notes as well as the old blueprints and suddenly have the necessary concept for a retractable weapon, built to strike out of an arm piece. And when he’s done, he simply drags it all into his tucked in corner- hidden until night falls again the next day.

Time not spent at school, occasionally in his room, or in his new lab- is now spent taking full advantage of the gym on the higher floors.

The Avengers don’t question it, barely even using it at the same time as him anyways. He’s planned it so no one is around to see the training he does, the work put in to not only muscle- but also skill.

He doesn’t have a vigilante name just yet- but perhaps that’s the fun in it. He’s totally anonymous.

And as the firm punching bag jerks beneath his incoming fist, he feels the creeping joy of power.

Y/n puts lots of thought into the first strike against the city- building an elaborate yet somewhat reckless attack plan, a formula.

No citizen will get hurt- it’s only the churning, growing need for revenge he wants so badly to be satisfied. Among the jumbled emotions, and new discoveries, he knows what he wants, and he knows just who he wants to be.

Y/n Stark may never be the millionaire superhero his father is- but he will be something. Something that no one will ever expect.

***

“A new vigilante seems to be on the loose, unidentified. They’ve struck many times already, but police have noticed that, interestingly enough, among the pattern of crime scenes none of the main public areas or citizens have been hit. Could this be the work of an Anti-hero, perhaps? Down at the Avengers Tow-“

The anchorman’s voice is cut off, mid sentence, and Tony holds the remote firmly.

Around him, on the expensive couches sit the Avengers themselves, but their faces are dulled by distress, their knuckles tense from a firm grip.

“We gotta find this guy,” Bruce sighs, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose tightly. Beside him, Natasha agrees.

“If we don’t catch them soon, people will start doubting us.” She says it like it’s so simple, lips pressed into a thin line. Steve groans.

“They aren’t gonna start doubting us-“ he tries, but no one seems to believe him.

“Oh really? Sounds like you’ve got some superstar solution then, huh?” Tony, always packed full of sarcasm, looks absolutely exasperated. He’s been looking tirelessly for this new ‘vigilante’ of the sorts - they don’t even seem to have a name. They work quickly and precisely, yet go at it with a powerful vengeance. Their skill- it’s almost something he wants to respect.

The group begins to speak again, switching between civil turn taking and overlapping words. They don’t even notice the figure standing by the door.

Y/n peaks his head around the door frame, watching these strong, powerful superheroes stressing over him. Oh, they just have no clue.

As they’re still talking, planning unknowingly within earshot of their own enemy- Y/n takes his notes. He listens, until finally he slips past the door and walks quietly down the hall as the sick, strong feeling of triumph sinks into his stomach.

He’s got them.

***

The rumbling fill of chaos echoes from all around- machines jittering, codes breaking, and a light flickers down the hall.

Y/n stands at the center of the room, looking around at one of his father’s many warehouses from all around- this one being stationed north of his own home state- Maine, USA.

His dad brought him here only a few times as a kid, once or twice perhaps. He always hated it- still does, actually, hence the small bombs scattered across the place.

It would be funny, to think that not even the Avengers have caught on to his pattern- but that may be jinxing it. Plus, he knows the common traits of each area he’s hit so far, the places holding the unjust power. This stop, though, he’s been waiting to finally hit.

“Stark Enterprises” - a sign once strung together in big letters, now laying at Y/n’s feet broken into pieces. The boy crouches down, picking up a chunk from the “E” and crushes it in his hands.

Under his mask, he grins.

His suit, not quite as advanced as those made by his father, fits him well. The sleeves are tighter, snugly wrapped around his biceps with streaks of purple running through the black material. Padding, like thin layers of armor, protect his torso and the pants are the most loose- cargo, with big pockets.

A mask is what pulls the whole thing together, though, concealing the entirety of his head underneath its black and purple coloring.

Littering his hands, and even weaved into the material all across, are the gadgets he’s spent so many hours on. Rings sealed into the gloves have enough sharp metal twisted together inside that when activated, spread into blades. In the pocket around his waist band- is a button, the button, that with one push turns this warehouse into a cloud of orange and yellow.

Y/n is still watching the crumbling sign fall from his palm, like grains of sand, when the door caves in behind him.

“Put your hands up, tough guy, we caught you.”

Captain America, confident as ever, bursts in at the front of the group with his shield held high. Behind him, Tony, Peter, Natasha and even Bruce waltz right in after him. For a second- a glimmer of pride washes through Y/n’s body, they brought 5 to a fight against 1- he must be special.

“Yeah, times up buddy.”

Seeing his father, dressed in the famous Ironman suit, reminds Y/n of the whole reason this started- and another twisted feeling knots itself in his stomach.

The moment he’s been waiting for.

They can’t see him as he smirks underneath the mask, deciding to toy with them just a bit. He doesn’t speak- no one’s heard his voice when spoken through the filtered material yet. It seems they’ll be the first.

Y/n’s head cocks to the side, and raises an eyebrow- something the Avengers can see through the imprint of his mask. A challenge.

Bruce’s battle cry cuts through the air- and suddenly the Hulk is charging. It startles Y/n for a moment, but quickly he steps to the side and lets the green giant crush the ground beside him. As Hulk gets back up, snarling and growling, Y/n is already grabbing a long beam, bent from where it fell with the rest of the Stark Enterprise’s sign, and strikes Hulk right in the gut.

The giant man stumbles slightly, yet still stomps forward. But Y/n isn’t in front of him.

“Hulk!” Natasha yells out, watching from across the room as Y/n comes from behind, mid air, wielding the same beam from before. Hulk is barely able to tilt his head an inch before the metal is crashing down into the area just below his head, and bruising his neck.

He’s out within a few seconds, stumbling around clumsily while black dots tease his vision. Then, he falls to the floor.

“Well shit.” Steve mutters, bending his knees like a bull preparing to charge. He should’ve known sending in Hulk with no preparations would be a bad an idea.

“Sending the big one in first, huh?” Y/n looks at them cockily, “do you see me as a threat, Ironman?”

Tony raises an eyebrow, “oh look at that, he can talk.” He doesn’t even skip a beat as his suit begins to whir, the arm unfolding so a mini blaster pokes out from the forearm.

The vigilante barely has time to react as strings of energy are thrown his way, jumping and dodging each of them narrowly. Tony doesn’t wait for him to regain his footing though, flying straight towards his figure.

Steve eyes Natasha, gesturing for her to move. The woman obliges, creeping around the fight so Y/n’s back is in front of her.

Ironman grabs Y/n by the shoulders, pushing down with such strong force that the latter is forced back a few steps. He holds the metal sleeves with a firm grip, and at first Tony doesn’t notice as the boy’s rings begin to scrape against the surface. Sparks fly like the touch of a welding torch, grazing the edges of Tony’s mask just in time for him to realize mini blades are beginning to prod at his suit. Y/n doesn’t hesitate to take the opportunity and shove the man away from him.

Natasha watches closely, seeing how Y/n stumbles from the impact. She jumps at him.

Y/n extends his arm in her direction, not even turning all the way around, and his rings grow from small blades to a sharp spiral of metal pointing right at Black Widow’s chest.

She freezes, he smirks.

Of course, it’s not his intention for someone to die. That’s not what he does. This, well, is simply defense.

“How about we get right to the point.” He says, slipping his free hand into one of the pouches around his waist band. Out with it comes a cylinder- black and sleek with some sort of dial built in, a bright red button on top.

Steve feels his stomach drop.

“Pick a number.”

Tony, seemingly unaware of the detonator to have just been introduced, rolls his eyes, he’s growing impatient.

“Alright, fine, 5- you wanna quit it with the games now?”

Big mistake.

Without skipping a step, Y/n is scrolling through digits on the small screen built into the detonator. It’s almost too quick for any of the Avengers to realize what he’s doing- and it’s far too late by the time they do.

“Alright, then.” Y/n presses the button.

Steve goes to lunge forward, tries to make a grab for the device, but he waited too long. The whole room rattles, and the section just to the left of them suddenly bursts. Bombs.

Y/n watches with a special glint in his covered eyes as everyone stumbles, yet his feet stay firmly planted in the ground. They’re startled, bits of the wall flying around and clattering against the floor. Peter snaps his head towards Y/n in shock.

“Who’s next?”

“Oh my god.” Peter mumbles, wide eyed. It’s the sound of his voice, his first time saying a word, that catches Y/n’s attention right away.

His teeth grind together, thumb smoothing over the button’s smooth surface. His mind mumbles, Do it again.

Staring into the large white panels of Peter’s mask, his guard is left fallen for just a moment too long. Tony sends one more blast his way.

A jolt of pain seers through Y/n’s thigh. The energy was strong enough to surpass the material of his pants, leaving a heavy ache in the area. Y/n glares.

“You asshole,” he grunts, spinning the dial with his thumb before slamming down the button.

Above them, part of the ceiling crumbles.

Bits of concrete come tumbling down, Peter and Natasha diving for cover. But Y/n is no where near finished.

“How many bombs are there-“ Peter asks to no one in particular. His question is soon to be answered.

“Let’s not wait to find out,” Steve grunts, sprinting to where his opponent stands at the opposite side of the room. Y/n feels the previous feeling of confidence, the smooth and cocky facade, slipping away. He wants to win.

Each of Captain America’s hits clang against metal couplets clasped to Y/n’s wrist- chaos ensues around them. Tony firing shots, Peter surrounding the fight, Natasha running for a hit at close combat- and hulk just starting to stir from his little nap.

But Y/n doesn’t let up- not until it’s too late.

A fiery blaze heads straight for him, straight for his face. It’s beginning to sizzle against his ears, he can feel it coming. But he doesn’t react in time, trying to defend himself from too many things at once.

The blast, coming from his own father’s hand, hits him.

His mask begins to spark, edges curling into themselves as slowly, Y/n feels the right side of his face being revealed.

His hand meets the wall, holding him up as he recovers from the impact. They haven’t seen him yet.

He hears Steve’s heavy breathing from behind him, something so familiar it almost tricks his mind. Then, Tony’s voice.

“It only takes a few hits, huh? If I knew that’s all it took I wouldn’t have wasted so much time.”

More sarcasm, Y/n almost laughs.

“Who are you.” Natasha doesn’t even make it sound like a question, her voice strong and firm.

Silence ensues, just for a moment, Y/n’s head is swimming.

Yet, over all the thoughts and noise, one thing screams loudest over the rest.

“Do. It.”

“Don’t you recognize me?” Y/n’s voice, no longer protected by a filter, is raspy and hoarse. He slowly turns around, head peaking out of the shadows.

“You know me already…”

Holy shit.

A loud clang echoes through the now dead silent room, the red white and silver shield rolling across the floor.

“…Y/n?”

Tony’s helmet folds into itself, revealing a sweaty face with wide eyes and a slack jaw.

A bitter smile is what he receives.

“Dad.”

Tony looks around, dumbfounded.

“I-“ he stutters, nearly speechless, “what- what the hell are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” Y/n steps forward, voice dry yet dripping with venom.

Tony chokes, “being an absolute moron, that’s what-“

Y/n barks out a rough, quick laugh. “Ooh, rough.” He rasps. Steve steps forward, putting a hand onto Tony’s shoulder and pulling him back. It’s like a warning, silent communication because next, he’s the one to step forward.

“Y/n…” the words die on the tip of his tongue, throat running dry, but he still tries, “what- I mean, why?”

Y/n has begun to pace slightly, taking slow steps around the shocked group. He peels the mask away from his face.

“Yknow, most people tend to turn to the worst of their options when in a dark time,” he says smoothly, feeling each and every set of eyes watching while he walks. Hulk watches through blurred vision, completely disoriented.

“I mean, hate to give you the classic origin story and everything, but…”

“Hold on,” the thoughts are almost visible, loud and heavy in Tony’s head, “is this about something I did?”

So he’s finally getting it.

“What could Tony have possibly done?” Asks Natasha, and Y/n looks at his father directly.

“You don’t care, ok, that’s what-“ his voice is breathy, and he scowls, “You can’t even talk to your own kid, Stark. It’s like you don’t realize what I am, to you- what you are to me!” Anger rises with each word that shoots like poison from Y/n’s mouth.

Tony gets defensive, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut. “That’s not true, I know damn well you’re my kid-“

“Oh really? Cause you seem to have it a bit mixed up.” Y/n’s eyes flicker to Peter’s frame, and everyone tenses.

“Is…is this about Peter?”

At the mention of his name, Peter tears off his mask, a concerned, heavy look on his face.

“I, Y/n it’s not like that-“ he tries, only to be interrupted.

“Yknow,” Y/n’s voice sounds so pained, “I always thought maybe you aren’t too upfront with your affection. For years, ok, I would wake up, go to school, come back, and go to bed all without saying more than a few words to you. Years, dad.�� A lump is forming in his throat, but it’s too late to turn back now. “But then, out of nowhere, someone else comes into the picture and suddenly you’re taking him to lunch, you’re picking him up from school, basically spending way more time with him, than with me.”

Bold, bitter, and wavering- Y/n doesn’t stop. Even as his father, his classmate, the people he’d grown up with thinking were like family, just watch with feeling burning in their eyes.

“Y/n,”

“You made it look so easy with him.”

“Hey, kid, c’mon-“

“Are you serious?!” Y/n yells in disbelief. “Are you gonna tell me I’m wrong? Is that it? I’m just exaggerating, or what-“

Tony straightens his posture, swallowing hard.

Y/n’s face almost crumbles from the way his fathers face wavers. But he just doesn’t stop.

“You can be the greatest hero in the world,” Y/n breathes, sweat sparkling around the frame of his face, “you can put on a face for the interviews, and train Peter to perfection,” a step closer, “but don’t forget that I’ve always been here too.”

Y/n’s voice sounds so dark, unfamiliar and breaking, it’s gone raspy from the pounding drum of his heart beat.

Ringing silence once more. 6 melting souls standing in the waste of their own troubles.

Y/n feels budding tears threatening to spill.

“And now look what we’ve done.”

#x male reader #Avengers x male reader #Male stark ready #Tony starks son #Avengers x vigilante reader #Peter Parker #tom!peter Parker x male reader #66 recs&replies #Pls say you like it

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charg3rs0ck3t · 1 year

Text

Anti-heroism

(Alt title- “Save me?”)

TASM! Peter Parker x (vigilante) reader

Warnings: slight angst, mentions of domestic crimes, reader kills someone (not too graphic), almost death, knives, it’s really fucking long, some fluff.

((Unedited))

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Not everyone is worth being saved.

———————————————————————

The first time you really met Spiderman, your hands were around his neck. You were slowly tightening your grip, but, as you looked up to watch the life leave his eyes, something you had eagerly awaited, you stopped as he began to mumble.

You knew that voice.

God fucking damnit.

—————��—————————————————

You hated heroes. Hated how they were considered salvations to a broken society. Maybe if the rich gave a shit the divide wouldn’t be so great.

Society is run off greed.

And yeah, sometimes the rich do give a shit, you weren’t saying thats the prime evil, the problem comes when assholes use chaos and desperation to make quick cash.

New York City was a prime example of the cesspits designed by and for humanity. In the beginning, there was no night that went by without the sound of an ambulance and a hearse in pursuit with last nights leftovers.

Now they just skipped the ambulance and went straight in with the hearse.

The city chewed people up and spat them out dead.

Heroism is dangerous. It is a false alias for mass destruction and major loss of life, and yet claims to be for the good of the people. A core of wickedness, hidden in a faux utilitarian shell. A being not whole unless causing harm and calling themself in favour of those who they massacre.

Heroism is a plague of the mind, but it doesn’t acquaint to the evil it fights. In concept, the idea was perfect. That’s where you came in.

Neither hero nor villain, but one who admits and atones to their wrongs without a need to do so. You had no image to uphold, doing what was right and paying the cost that took.

At least.. at least until you decided to catch the attention of the ‘local hero’.

———————————————————————

Growing up in New York City had its perks, one such being direction. But it was still a big city, things where constantly changing, so it wasn’t uncommon for you to drop into an alley a block or so over from your intended destination.

Usually, this was fine, however how were you to react when you come face to face with The Spiderman adjusting his costume and packing away casual clothes into a duffle.

Clearly, he didn’t know either because as he seemed to be adjusting the material at his shoulders, he turned a caught a glimpse of you.

There you two stood, at a stale mate, perfectly acquainted through previous minor conflicts and slightly contrasting morals. He began to panic, it was dreadfully obvious when all he could seem to do was gape like a fish.

“Don’t worry spider-boy, knowing what you look like would take all the fun out of it!” You exclaimed, turning your back and walking away, chuckling to yourself as you scale a wall onto another building. Hoping to finally enjoy some peace.

What you didn’t expect however, was for him to follow you.

“Where are you going?” He said, trailing just behind you. He didn’t exactly know why he had followed you up here, but you confused him so and he was intrigued.

Peter knew he was no distinguished labelled hero, Hell, he was reminded by the papers every day. He knew and he accepted that, but he had every intention to be one, no matter what.

You however, you perplexed him. You seemed to hate the evil in the city, and so you did something about it. But you hated being called a hero, you didn’t do anything by the book. In fact there were times Peter found your methods barbaric and oddly personal.

He had watched you beat the literal shit out of your fair share of criminals, but you’d really let it out in cases of domestic crimes. For being so violent, you were so passionate and so caring to victims.

But you just didn’t want to be a hero. Trust that he knows that, he’s asked you on multiple occasions and that black eye from the last time he snuck up on you still aches on occasion.

“None of your business.” You retaliated to him tiredly, soon following with a yawn. You were exhausted, Rightfully so however. You had been parading around since your class ended and it was almost 11 PM by now.

All you wanted to do was get home, finish your coursework, take a bath and sleep.

But here you were, with an eyesore in tight spandex on your ass. You couldn’t go home with him tailing you, so you’d have to go horizontal to your apartment. Sitting on some random roof and hanging your legs over a darkened alley.

Hoping to have lost him, you glanced over your shoulder, only to see him staring at you from across the roof. You sighed, getting out some protein bar and opening it. Eating away as you stared into the busy streets.

The city truly never slept and amongst the ugliness and sorrow, the chaos and twinkling lights seemed ever beautiful and you smiled at the thought.

“Why do you do it?” He muttered as he sat next to you. Getting a hum in response only prompted him to continue. “I mean, you say you hate the city, that you’d leave it first chance you have.. but somewhere in there you must love it, or you wouldn’t do this, put yourself in danger just for the innocent.”

“That’s a dark way of looking at it Spider-man, I thought you were meant to be this place’s glimmer of light!” You laughed a little, majorly just trying to release the harsh tension. “It’s not the city, it’s the people, it’s the people who this place don’t deserve. I think no matter where I was I would have ended up like this because people need something to believe in.”

“Superhero speech! That was totally a superhero speech don’t even deny it! I got it all down!” He yelled accusingly but in a light tone, pointing at you. It was fond, as if you were just two old friends bantering with each other. Even if you did push him off the roof in response with a loud ‘would a superhero do this asshole!?’

But you knew he would catch himself, that he expected it was coming.

You hated heroes, but this one just seemed to be the exception.

———————————————————————

Peter was a sweet boy, respectful, but he was pained.

You could tell he was always hiding a deeper pain, sorrow he never let himself truly feel, sorrow he may never cure himself of.

He was your best friend, a shining ray of hope even through all the dirt, but even the brightest rays where darkened and scarred by the ugly smog that was the city.

Every time you talked to him, every happy moment, he never seemed to let himself truly enjoy it. He seemed to live in the future but always worry about the present.

How can one hope to fix the present if they treat it as the past? Simple answer, you can’t.

———————————————————————

It was another night in New York, even the lume of the many billboards couldn’t shine upon every shadowed corner. So, evil continued in the darkness.

You already hadn’t been having a great day, your job had double booked you for 2 meetings and you had spent hours being yelled at for trying to point out the issue. Plus, you had to miss one of your lectures because the meeting went over by an hour. So really you were just sick of today, wanting nothing more than to curl up at home with a bottle of wine and some shitty tv.

But, unfortunately for you, one of the gangs you’ve been trailing, notedly unsuccessfully, for the past month finally left a huge clue. They would be sending out another shipment tonight, dabbling in special enhancement drugs that made most people go insane.

So here you were, sat on a rooftop watching some goons bicker in-front of the entrance of the warehouse. You were calculating how long until the anonymous tip you’d send to the police would take to dispatch. Either way you had a good Fifteen minutes before anyone came running.

At least, that was until Spiderman decided to grace you with his presence. A presence that you really didn’t need right now, especially when already peeved off.

“What are we doing?~” He whispered mockingly, getting a glare in retaliation. But, not content with that answer he repeated the question again.

“Oh lord give me patience, or atleast a fucking knife.” You muttered to yourself. “ ‘we’ are doing nothing, you, you are going to leave me alone and go save another cat from a tree and I, I am going to go actually make a change in this city.”

He just laughed and shook his head at your response, “oh cmon! Why can’t we be partners! An iconic duo! Like Batman and Robin, Bonnie and Clyde or something!”

“We are not going to be either of those thi- wait shut up for a second.” He began to open his mouth but closed it as you stared intently below, the doors of the warehouse opening mockingly.

“Stay here!” You whispered, the last thing you needed was his moralistic hero speeches as you were using some guy as a punching bag. So as he stood obediently, you scaled down the building to an open window, Three stories high.

The room you entered seemed empty and cold, as though no one had been inside in years. Merely a week prior, their main base of operations was set up in here. It was all a trap.

But who had known you would be coming?

You got your answer in the form of a sharp stab at your side, looking down to find a knife expertly lodged in your flesh. It didn’t seem fatal or anything at the time, but it definitely hurt like a bitch.

Turning around to see the man, hands now covered in your blood, was effortless, even more so as your body seemed to simply flow, contorting in quivers of motion as you eventually left him a bloody pulp, dead, sprawled still upon the floor.

You couldn’t continue, you were tired, woozy and bleeding. Shipment or not, you would have to do this another night, plus you definitely couldn’t be around when the police turned up.

Seeing the flashing lights and hearing the sirens was what drove you to stand up and finally clamber out the window. Admittedly, not as gracefully as usual, but you got a free pass since the knife was still lodged pitifully into your side.

———————————————————————

It comes to a point in a persons life (typically as they’re jumping and weaving from one rooftop to another with their only intention to get home and patch up a literal stab wound), when they wonder if it’s all worth it.

This was that moment for you. As you stumbled from another roof, almost falling into the bustling streets below, you had to take a moment to catch a breath.

Turns out, even that seemed a bad idea because as you closed your eyes, you heard a whoosh of air and the thump of the hero, the one you seemed to come to know so much of, landing next to you.

Today really wasn’t your finest and all you seemed to want to do was sleep. It was infuriating and nothing was going your way.

“What do you want?” You hissed at him, you were in no mood to entertain. All you wanted was to close your eyes, maybe have a little nap, just so you could finally get home tonight.

He took one long look at you, staring at your slumping figure, drooping before him.

It was depressing to see you like this, he didn’t know what happened in the 20 minutes it’d been since you parted, but you were not in a good state. He was worried, and maybe, just maybe, he was scared.

As he went to go pick you up, or at least help you to your feet, his arms wrapped around you. His fingers finally trailed to the bloody hilt of the knife and he gasped, it was light and restricted, but he was shocked nonetheless and didn’t hide it well. He pulled his hand back and observing the reddened substance on his hands, before his eyes landed on your face.

“Calm down, it’s not toxic or anything- it’s just blood- not all of us can be ‘mr I never get hurt in fights’.” You slurred and hiccuped out the sentence, trying to uphold the typical rivalling ‘banter’ you two thrived on.

But He didn’t laugh.

The blank eyes of that mask just bore into yours, especially when he seemed to take in every detail of the injury.

“You are so lucky I care!-“ He was angry, thrashing his arms and pacing back and forward. “If I didn’t I’d shove you in a hospital right now and let them expose you to the world! Shove you off and not let you be my problem.” He was being mean, spiteful, but he was also saddened.

“If I recall Spiderman- you were the one who bothered me.” You laughed in a hushed tone, at least before grabbing at your side as a sharp sensation jolted through it. It hurt and you let out a soft sob.

“My name is Peter, If you’re gonna die here, tonight, on this shitty run down roof, you deserve to know my name.” He was downcast, turning to face you, to grasp a reaction. All he could see was the small shape of a smile under your own mask. How could you just sit there and smile at him? How could you do this to him at a time like this?

“I know, I’ve always known Pete. I probably wouldn’t have put up with you for so long if I didn’t…” you whispered out cautiously, causing his head to whip in your direction.

“How- wait! Wait- No- Please tell me it’s not you! Please (Name)! Please No!” He ran over, dropping to your side and ripping off his own mask before gently going to remove your own.

So you smiled at him, it’d been a few days since you last saw his real face. Even tear stained, his was your favourite.

“I’m sorry Pete, I didn’t mean for it to go this way. I knew, I knew since the first time I met you in costume. I tried to kill you, my hands were around your throat. You only escaped that night because of your voice. So maybe.. maybe this is karma? Maybe this is what I get for killing all of these people! Hell, I don’t regret it, maybe that makes it worse, but what does it all matter anyways if I die on this rooftop tonight?” It all came out in a blur, maybe it was adrenaline, maybe it was fear, you couldn’t tell.

“You’re not gonna die tonight, not now I know it’s you. I’m gonna make sure you live.” He was crying, big tears welled up in his eyes, spilling onto his reddened cheeks.

“You can’t save everyone Peter, I know you want to, but you can’t. You can’t save me, not from what I’ve done and not from the consequences of that.” You knew you had done terrible things, and you knew that you didn’t regret a single one. You didn’t regret anything, except maybe dying without apologising, without telling him how you feel.

“No, no I can’t. But you can save yourself.”

———————————————————————

It all went by in a flash, there were moments when you were semi-lucid. You could look around, take it all in, but you couldn’t speak, couldn’t see faces.

You had been treated, not professionally and definitely not in a hospital, but well enough. You would live.

Finally waking up, you felt exhausted. You craved the idea of sleep, but you detested the days of nightmares you had been trapped in.

Not speaking when awake was something you could handle, but being stuck in a constant terror of false reality drove you insane. You saw Peter’s face in them, he was always distorted and full of rage.

“I hate you.” He’d say

“I will never forgive you.” He’d spit.

“If you had died, I’d have one less criminal on the streets to worry about.” He’d hiss.

You knew it wasn’t real, but it hurt all the same. Whilst you knew that those things he was saying were all in your dreams, all the things you had done were very much real.

It was cliché. You had only once rethought your path before now, that was the first time you had ever met him. He was a small boy, hardly could stand up for himself, but he was something good, infinitely flowing with hope for a better future.

Now here you were, trudging your way from the made up bed on his apartments couch. You’d been here many times before, when he was significantly less aware. Before, it always felt like home, but now it felt like even the walls had eyes that looked upon you with hate, pity and betrayal.

If anything, you wished you could apologise to this place you loved so much, to the lies you told under this sturdy roof and to the cement foundations that had fallen akin a victim to your actions.

You stood outside Peters room for a long while, staring at the Chipping paint at the corners of the door. Debating returning to the couch, but before you could retreat back a voice rang from within the room.

“Are you coming in?” He seemed calm, composed and confident.

Entering the room, he seemed all but that, he seemed anxious and at the same time relieved, he was scared and he was happy. He was confusing.

Walking forward was subconscious. Peter often struggled getting to sleep so you had slept in his room many times.

This time was different though, you weren’t just here because your study date ran over.

He gestured to the empty space upon the bed, so you tucked yourself under the duvet. His bed was comfortable, but you wrapped an arm around him and rested your head upon his chest. Your bodies both suddenly began jolting, he had begin to silently sob, and so you laid there, quietly shushing him as he cried, arms wrapped around him.

Finally the world felt right again, maybe he could save you, because If the world felt this good all the time you wouldn’t have to fight.

“Never do that to me again” he muttered finally.

“Okay.. I love you..” you murmured in response, nuzzling your head further into his chest.

“I love you too, we’ll talk in the morning.” He shuffled slightly to place a delicate kiss on your forehead before falling asleep with you finally in his arms again.

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heliads · 1 year

Note

Tom!peter x make reader with powers of blue marvel, just regular dating headcanon or so with some inclusion of them patrolling together and maybe them just doing sweet things for each other 💖😍

had to google blue marvel bc i don't remember who any characters are ever but bless you for letting me do headcanons

masterlist

Peter Parker has never been more grateful to have a partner for patrols

Being Spider-Man is great, obviously, but having someone else out there to watch his back is really, really nice

Factor in the fact that his partner in anti-crime is you, and, well, Peter doesn’t think life could possibly get any better

You and Peter just click, that’s all

You have the same sense of humor, the same fierce protective spirit about the city, the same curious spark

Any day that Peter gets to spend by your side is a good one in his eyes, and the nights spent watching over the streets don’t feel as hard if he’s got you there too

It makes fighting crime a lot more fun when someone else is there to make the same bad jokes and witty comments that he would

The two of you are well known (by your hero aliases, of course) across the city for your dynamic, with newspapers and magazines swearing by your obvious bond

One of your favorite blog headlines puts it more succinctly: ‘Just Two Guys Being Dudes, But They’re Also Saving Us All?’

That one made you two laugh for days

Peter’s also totally obsessed with your powers, and he’s definitely pretended to complain about how cool they are on multiple occasions

“Super speed is one thing, and super strength, but energy manipulation too? Jeez, Y/N, you have to pick one. It’s making the rest of us look almost normal.”

“You swing from buildings on spiderwebs, Peter, you’ll never look normal.”

That earned you at least fifteen seconds of the silent treatment, but it didn’t last too long– your fights never do

After all, how could you possibly fight with someone who’d save your life over his own, who’d help patch you up after a tough night under the unspoken promise that you’ll do the same for him?

At the end of the day, it’s you and Peter against the world

Nothing could make you happier

requested by @fadedver, i hope you enjoy!

marvel tag list: @namoreno, @thatfangirl42, @rogueanschel, @mycosmicparadise, @ellobruv, @callsign-scully, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @amortensie, @23victoria, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @gods-fools-heroes, @w1shes43, @deafsuperhero, @/fadedver

87 notes · View notes

xoxoavenger · 1 year

Text

Die Trying

pairing: Peter Parker (Tom holland) x Fem!Reader

summary: The one thing they love more than a hero is to see a hero fail, fall, die trying.

word count: 2283

warnings: angst only a little comfort, major character death, not graphic but some gore

masterlist

birthday celebration masterlist

"You're doing the right thing, Pete." Y/N said. The two were upstairs, sitting on the ground and watching all the so called 'villains' converse downstairs. Peter knew they had to figure out antidotes to villain's problems, but he wanted to take a moment with his girlfriend and calm down. There had been no room to breathe the past few days, and if he had a magic lamp his first wish would be to stop time.

"I know. I just wish it wasn't my problem." He knew that Y/N would understand, that she wouldn't think of him selfish. Peter had just had his world practically crash down on him, and he just wanted some time to be a normal teenager. It didn't seem like it would be happening anytime soon, though. Peter leaned his head against Y/N's shoulder, and she sighed as she reached up to brush through his hair.

"I do too. But you and I both know you're the only one that could do this." She turned to him as he lifted his head up, and she left her hand on his face.

"Cause I'm Spider-Man?" He asked, almost melting at the look she was giving him. She leaned in closer, their foreheads touching.

"Because you're Peter Parker." She told him. He could have died on the spot like that - he was surprised he didn't. He put both his hands on her face and pulled her close to kiss her. It was sweet and loving and everything Peter needed to get through this.

He could get through this.

Norman and Peter worked on cures while Y/N and May tried to be hospitable. They shared looks, worried someone would lash out at any moment, but for awhile everything was okay.

"Why do you want to go back?" Y/N asked Flint, the man made of sand. He was staring at a picture of Morgan that Happy proudly displayed.

"I have a daughter. I love her. I want to be there for her." Flint told Y/N, who nodded.

"We'll get you back." She put a hand on his shoulder, trying not to cringe when sand fell all over the carpet. Before she could say anything else, her name was being called by Peter.

"Yeah?" She called back, retracting her arm and turning. When Peter didn't say anything else, Y/N got up, walking over to the makeshift lab.

"I just need you to double check this formula. It's for Norman." Y/N smiled as she looked at the man, who smiled back. She made her way to the table, where she made sure all the ingredients were right.

"Um, there's one-"

"Hold on," Peter whispered, hand grabbing her waist. He was behind her, causing her to have to turn her head. He walked out of the lab, Y/N and Norman following. She wasn't quite sure what was going on with Peter, but he looked lost to the world as everyone called out his name. When he finally stopped, Y/N watched as he looked straight at Norman before webbing his hand to DUMME. Y/N's eyes widened as she watched May sneak out to grab the anti-serum.

"That's some neat trick, that sense of yours." Goblin growled, causing chills to fall down Y/N's body.

"Norman?" Otto asked, watching Goblin's head snap to the other villain.

"Norman's on sabbatical, honey." Y/N quickly moved to the lab, catching the serum as soon as May threw it to her.

"Go," May whispered, the two flinching as the arguing in the room got louder.

"There's something wrong with this! It may not work." Y/N muttered, but May shook her head as she walked toward Y/N.

"It's our best chance." The two turned as they heard fighting ensue, and Y/N quickly ran in.

"Go!" Peter yelled to them. Y/N and May both ran out the door and straight to the stairs, the noise from the fight getting quieter.

"The serum is missing the agent that caused him to turn into this! I don't know how well it will work if we give it to him like this!" Y/N yelled as they ran down the stairs as quickly as possible. She almost tripped too many times to count, but she had to keep going.

"It has to work!" May said, disregarding the odds. They were panting by the time they got to the lobby, which seemed to be in a terrible state. She saw Peter and Goblin fighting, and Y/N quickly ran forward as May stayed behind. As soon as there was an opening in the fight, Y/N took the chance.

"Peter!" She yelled as she threw the anti-serum. Peter caught it and turned to Goblin, sticking it in his neck in one fluid motion. Goblin's smile didn't change, however, and Y/N felt her blood run cold.

No.

"You didn't really think that would work, did you?" Goblin looked at Y/N. Peter tried to throw a punch, but Goblin threw a nasty hit causing Peter to fall to the side. She watched him stay on the ground, obviously too hurt from the previous battle to get back up. Y/N seemed frozen, only able to stare back at the villain. He began to fly away before grabbing something from his belt, but he was gone before she could see what it was. She moved forward as she watched Peter stumble to his feet, but he quickly turned toward the entrance once more. She looked, but couldn't see anything. Peter however was jumping forward, reaching out as she watched a small green bomb enter the lobby.

"No!" She screamed as Peter grabbed it and brought it close to him. She screamed his name and reached out, the spider on his back the last thing she saw before the bomb went off. The explosion was loud and knocked her off her feet, causing her to hit her head on the ground.

She blacked out for a couple moments before opening her eyes again, dark spots dancing across her vision. Her head was pounding, and she wasn't sure where she was yet. She shakily got up on her knees, not hearing anything except the ringing in her ears, before falling forward, not able to hold her own weight. She hit the side of her head again, and it confused her to hit the ground in silence. It knocked her back to reality, however, and her left ear now just sounded like she was underwater; it was almost more disorienting. She needed to see if Peter was okay, needed to know that he was okay. She crawled forward, trying to ignore the pain in her shoulder. It began shooting all the way down her arm, and she groaned as she fell forward, face hitting the ground for the third time. Her balance was shit with only one ear working, but luckily her left ear began to work and helped her get back up again.

She had to keep going.

"Peter!" She began coughing as she took in the smoke and dust, finally making it to where Peter was lying on the ground. She could hear slightly better now, but that paled in comparison to the state Peter was in. His eyes were closed, face expressionless. He was flat on his back, but one of his arms was pinned uncomfortably behind him. His suit had been blown to smithereens, even with the nanotech that had adorned his chest. The skin on the upper half of his body was burned, so bad it made her almost want to throw up. She had to look at his face, his peaceful face adorned with cuts and bruises, before she realized.

He was dead before she had even got there.

"No! Peter!" Y/N screamed, grabbing his shoulder and pulling herself up onto him. She put a hand on his face, barely staying up. "Please, please, please," Her tears ran down onto his face, making little marks among the blood and dirt. Her heart was racing so fast it was bruising her ribs, almost as if teasing the fact that Peter's heart would never beat again while her heart beat enough to power a factory.

Peter stayed still, and Y/N put a hand on his face as she tried to ignore the fact that Peter's open wound was pressing against her. She moved the hand that had been holding her up to his neck, checking for a pulse.

There had to be a pulse. He was Spider-Man. Spider-Man couldn't die. He couldn't.

"Run!" Y/N heard Happy's voice, and she looked up to see lasers cutting through the remaining dust. She squinted, her brain not able to comprehend what was going on. All she could think about was Peter's dead he's dead he's dead he's-

"Oh," May whispered as she kneeled next to Peter. Tears were streaming down her face, and Y/N felt her heart break again, the nausea coming up. May put a hand on Peter's face, pushing his hair away from his face and kissing his forehead before standing.

"Put your hands up!" She heard an officer yelling through a speaker.

"Come on," May put a hand on Y/N's back, and she shook her head.

"Peter," She muttered, tears falling off her chin now.

"I know, I know, but we have to go." May was hiccuping with sobs as she put her hands under Y/N, helping her up and pulling her away.

"We can't leave him here!" She screamed, letting out a screech as a warning shot went off. She let May lead her out the emergency exit, hearing the gunshots ring out as they ran down the street and into an ally.

It was then that she turned and dropped to her knees, leaning forward on her hands and throwing up. She heaved out breaths as she threw up everything in her stomach and then some. Her head pounded as she rolled over and closed her eyes, feeling the rain fall down onto her. At least God had the courtesy to feed into her pain.

"Y/N," May crouched next to her, a hand on her shoulder.

"He's gone, May. Gone," Y/N muttered, May barely hearing her. "I told him to help them. He didn't want to but I guilt tripped him." More tears fell back, since she was still laying down, but they blended into the rain that was now beating a her face.

"Hey, he did this because it's who he is. We both knew that he would give his life for what he thought was right. What he knew was right." May helped Y/N sit up, and together they cried.

MJ and Ned had found Y/N in Central Park, shaking from emotion and cold. They had only known where she was by tracking her phone to underneath one of the many small bridges in Central Park. How she had gotten all the way there they didn't know.

"Y/N," MJ whispered, watching as Y/N turned slightly, face swollen and eyes bloodshot. MJ knew her face wasn't much better, but she was going through it with Ned and the others.

"Please, leave me alone." Y/N begged, turning back into her knees. She didn't want to talk to anyone now; she needed to go through this on her own first.

"We met people that can help you." Ned said, cutting to the chase.

"Stop," She shook her head, not looking up. Her friends turned to the other two Spider-Mans, who had been waiting a few feet away. Ned motioned for them to come over. "No one can help me right now. I really just need you guys to just go away!" She sobbed, and MJ put her hand on her shoulder.

"Y/N, please," She felt tears rolling down her cheeks, not knowing what else to do. How do you comfort someone who just lost their love? "We think they can help."

"Who?" Y/N cried, looking up at MJ. "There is no one that understands this right now." She hiccuped, breath catching as she continued to sob.

"We might." A man Y/N had never seen stepped closer, and her eyes widened as she looked at him. He had a suit similar to Peter's on, and Y/N felt chills run up her arms.

"Is this a joke?" She spat out, trying to stand. She was weak, however, and almost collapsed as soon as she stood. The two men lunged, but she moved away from them.

"We heard about what happened to Peter." The younger one said, and Y/N shook her head, her world spinning.

"You think this is funny?" Her voice was hoarse, and she felt the hurt surging through her.

"Let them explain." Ned begged, and Y/N felt more tears run down her rough space.

"I just lost," Her voice cracked, head turning away from everyone as she pressed her lips together, even more tears falling from her face. "When would I find this helpful?"

"Y/N," MJ started voice soft as she reached out. "They are Peter Parker. They're just from different universes. The universes that the people earlier were from." This made Y/N look over, eyes widening.

"What?" She whispered, turning to study the men next to her. They didn't look like Peter, not even what he would look like as an adult, so how could they be Peter?

"We were so sorry to hear about what happened to your Peter." The way he said it, her Peter. She broke down, shaking, and they slowly walked toward her until they were hugging her close, their suits pressing to her as she pulled them closer. They weren't her Peter, but they were versions of Peter, a way to keep his memory alive.

She would never have her Peter back again, but she had someone to help her mourn and that was enough for right now.

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @roxaya @thefandomplace @punzoquack @edgycatx

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker angst #peter parker x reader angst

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mrtwizz · 2 years

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Midnights WIP

I am writing an 'x reader' for every song in the Mightnights album by Taylor Swift, I have a few planned out already but I need recommendations for the rest of the songs.

Send in requests for the ones in black/white depending on if u have dark mode or not

Lavender Haze

Maroon

Anti-hero

Snow On The Beach -Wednesday Addams

You’re On Your Own, Kid -Peter Parker (MCU) (coming soon...)

Midnight Rain

Question…?

Vigilante Shit

Bejeweled -Evangeline Samos (coming soon...)

Labyrinth

Karma -Peter Parker (MCU) (coming soon...)

Sweet Nothing

Mastermind -Maven Calore

The Great War -Mare Barrow (coming soon...)

Bigger Than The Whole Sky- Derek Hale (Coming Soon...)

Paris

High Infidelity

Glitch -Sirius Black (coming soon...)

Would’ve, Could’ve, Should've

Dear Reader

#midnights #x reader #peter parker mcu #peter parker x reader #maven calore x reader #red queen #masterlist #midnights fics #wednesday addams x reader

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riveramorylunar · 2 years

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The Super Soldier Spiderling Masterlist:

Y/N Rogers adopted sister of Steven Grant Rogers and best friend of Bucky Barnes lived a normal life in 1942. Everything changes when Dr. Erskine recruits Steve for the secret Project Rebirth. An unfortunate event leads to Y/N becoming the first super soldier as well as the first spiderling. After the war she was frozen in ice for 80 years. She meets the Young Avengers 80 years later which consist of Peter Parker, Cassie Lang, Kate Bishop, Morgan Stark, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Yelena Belova, Loki Laufeyson, Harley Keeny, Theodore Altman, Noh-Varr, Kamala Khan, America Chavez, William Kaplan, Thomas Shepherd, David Alleyne, Elijah Bradley, Daisy Johnson & Shuri. She becomes the leader of the Young Avengers by Nick Fury. She later meets the two Anti-heroes Moonknight and Deadpool while on a mission.

A Fem Moonknight & Fem Deadpool x Fem Reader Story

(Powers: Enhanced combat, senses[spidey-senses] & Flexibility, Night Vision, psychic constructs, wallcrawling[of course], Elemental Manipulation, Teleportation, Fire webs, web swinging, regeneration & can see the dead if wanted to and can bring them back for a whole day)

This takes place 1 year after Endgame in 2025.

Warnings⚠️: Killing, Mentions of Sexual Interactions, Weapons, Smoking, Drug usage, Cussing, severe wounds, Blood, Deaths, Fighting, Abuse, Cheating, Sexual assault, Homophobic parents, panic attacks, kidnapping & hallucinations

Characters: Part One , Part Two

Prologue: The Origin Story Of Y/N Roger's- Coming Soon

#Intersex #Lesbian #The Super Soldier Spiderling

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ynscrazylife · 2 years

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It seems that the Marvel character x anti-hero/villain idea has won! I have the most ideas for Peter Parker x Reader but if there’s a different Marvel character that you really want to see, please let me know :)

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modernstoner · 3 years

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Blood red, snow white| P.Parker

(a/n): Hello bitches, I found this in my draft and this was originally "hero x villain" but I changed it to Peter and (Y/n) because I write Peter Parker fanfics, enjoy<3

Summary: Peter loves you, but your the villain.

Warning: blood, angst

w/c: 360

The weather was cold, little drops of snow falling down the sky, making Peter shiver. Peter had unsheathed his swords in an instant, ignoring the chilly wind.

Peter had fallen for your naïve words before but not this time. You eyed Peter’s stance, almost lazily, while he glanced at the sword on your hip.

Why hadn’t both of you bothered to attack?

Each breath you took turned into smoke. Peter breathed steadily as you crossed your arms, probably waiting for a reply.

“Why would you even love me?” Peter sighed, pinching his nose, looking around the snowy forest.

“I don’t know. I loathe you, I hate you and I wish you’d never lived. You are like a poison that is eating me inside out but I can’t help but love the thrill.” Your words were laced with pure venom.

“It means you love rivalry. You don’t love me because you can’t.” Peter said. Saying those words almost broke him but he didn’t dare to show any kind of emotion.

Your gaze hardened but Peter swore something had crumpled inside you. He shrugged it off as a fleeting thought, convincing himself that it’s part of your plan.

Instead, you dropped your swords and started walking towards Peter, slowly. He was obviously confused, gripping tightly into his swords.

You pressed your palms against Peter’s swords, seemingly unconcerned by the blood it drew. “Then finish me. Finish me.” You said, fearless.

Your other hands curled over Peter's hand, so warm and soft. Peter ignored the burn of unshed tears in the back of his throat. You nodded, lacking the usual sinister glint in your eyes.

You were empty now, unsurprised and accepting of your fate.

Peter wanted to fling the sword away and rush into your arm, but the world was never easy. It could never be this easy.

“Go on.” You murmured, resting the tip of the blade against your sternum. “Do what you need.” So Peter did.

A trail of crimson in white snow leading to a crumpled, red pool around Peter's fingertips when pressure is applied.

The sword may have pierced through your chest, yet it pierced two hearts.

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averagewriter-inthedark · 2 years

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Quiet as a Cat, Sneaky as a Spider🕷 | Spider-Man No Way Home MASTERLIST

Contains spoilers for Spider-Man: No Way Home

Pairings: Tobey!Spider-Man x female!Reader /Black Cat (Romantic) , Andrew!Spider-Man (Platonic/flirtatious), Tom!Spider-Man (Platonic), Michele Jones-Watson (Platonic), Ned Leeds (Platonic). Dr. Otto Octavious (Platonic/Flirtatious).

Premise: Having been pulled into another universe where an alternate version of her once on-again/off-again lover and occasional nemesis/ally exists, Y/N L/N finds herself having to suit up again as her long retried anti-hero persona in order to help three SpiderMen face off against some familiar faces causing trouble in New York City.

Content Warnings: Fluff, Angst, spoilers for SMNWH, profanity, violence, implications of sex through innuendoes, flirtatious banter, references to past SA trauma, mentions of death. Slight nsfw in p.5

Black Cat theme from the Spider-Man PS4 game | original black cat comic suit | NWH suit (my interpretation) | My Pinterest Board | Spotify playlist

Note: For this series, it will be told in third person POV and although it is a reader insert it will be as though the reader is a version of Felicia Hardy/Black Cat from Tobey’s universe. I’ll also be taking inspiration from her in the Spider-Man game as well as her comic persona. Think of it like she is Tobey!Peter love interest instead of Mary Jane (although Mary Jane still plays her same role from Spider-Man because Peter doesn’t know Y/N is black cat till the events of Spider-Man 2). I plan to write both a prequel series and possibly a post NWH series so let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future works.

I do not own any characters from Marvel Comics, Marvel Studios and all affiliated with them. All rights belong to the owners and this is just fan-fiction for fans pleasure. This series contains MAJOR spoilers for Spider-Man No Way Home, so if you have not seen it then please do not read this yet.

Series Chapter List (Completed 💌):

Quiet As A Cat: On the hunt for multiversal beings that were pulled into his universe after a botched spell gone wrong, young Peter Parker falls into a game of cat & mouse when a woman in black with a grappling hook manages to escape his every move.

The Spiders Chit-Chat: While crafting the cures for the five villains, the three Peters get to talking which leads to the youngest of the bunch learning the identity of the mystery woman, and the oldest discovering why he hadn’t heard from a certain someone all day.

Sneaky As A Spider: The three Peters come face-to-face with the master escape artist donned in a new suit, who happens to have a very personal connection with the older Spider-Man in their group.

Trying To Do Better, Yet Brilliant But Lazy: The Spider-Men are up against the fight of their lives when former enemies from the past work together to destroy the ritual box needed to sent them back home. With a little help from two high school students, and a escape artist with a knack of bad luck behind her, familiar faces are reacquainted. Some for better, and some for worse.

3 Is The Magic Number: Goodbyes are hard, but necessary for the greater good. In an emotional conclusion to a day turned upside down, young Peter Peter makes a decision that alters his life forever. A life-long connection is born, and a certain cat has one last piece of advice not just for him, but the for Peter still haunted by his greatest mistake.

Extras & Outtakes

Lost In...New York?

The Heart Of The Spiders: Michele Jones had one important job, keep the ritual box safe and away from the multiversal villains. While the three Spider-Mans are off being the hero, MJ takes her chance to flee the lab in hopes of finding a safe place for the box when Ned fails to close the portal. They get separated in the school and to the teenagers surprise, she comes face-to-face with two other worldly visitors—who are quite familiar with Spider-Man themselves.

Series In Association

Family Of Cats & Spiders 🕷 🤍 | Sequel (completed 💌)

The Cat & Her Spider🕸 🌃 | Prequel (in progress 📝)

Collage made by me, pictures from Pinterest

……………………

Tag list: @m-1234, @tsukishimawhore,

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pagesfromthevoid · 2 years

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I have an idea that could work - Andrew's Spiderman and the reader as black cat. His sarcasm and her flirtatious nature would bounce off of each other really well.

Let’s Do the Time Warp | p.p.

Andrew!Peter Parker x superpowered!fem!reader

Word Count: 989

Author’s Note: Soo I loved this (and you’re my first requester!!) but I don’t actually know a lot about Black Cat or what she does. So I changed the reader to having different abilities but the same flirty banter…I hope you don’t mind!!

Series Masterlist | Request here

———

There was something about wearing a mask that gave Peter far more confidence than he actually had. Something about no one knowing he was this awkward, occasionally manic guy who took pictures for a living just…made him cocky. It was a great feeling, no one knowing who he was. Hearing people on the streets, or at work, or just in general speculate how hot Spider-Man probably was. It was probably the only good thing about having an anonymous superhero life, honestly.

That confidence translated well into his fights too. Most of his bad guys found his quips annoying, which he absolutely used to his advantage. Bantering back and forth distracted the criminals, confused them, and left them vulnerable to whatever Peter had planned for them. It was the non-superpowered criminals that it really worked on though. Especially when they pulled knives on him; that was always his favorite line (“Oh shit, it’s my kryptonite —a small knife!” Then boom, webbing them).

There was one person, however, that the banter didn’t bother. One person that the banter didn’t confuse, or throw off. At first, it had bothered him; after all, it was his favorite part of the fight. But as time went on, he started to appreciate the comebacks and responses he got from her.

He didn’t know her real name; as hard as Peter tried, he couldn’t find out her identity. It was a disturbingly well kept secret, though he figured she was probably trying to figure his out as well. All he knew was what the public had named her: Time Warp.

The issue he had with Time Warp was that she wasn’t necessarily a villain, but definitely wasn’t a hero. She was just chaos, wrapped in a hooded cape and a dark purple and black catsuit. She wore a mask, a simple black one that obscured just enough that he couldn’t pick out specific details. And her eyes were an unnatural color every time they met, which he was certain they were contacts that she switched out constantly.

And she could stop time.

That’s what Peter disliked the most about her. He’d figured out that she couldn’t stop time very long; fifteen seconds at the most. But fifteen seconds was enough time to cause damage; to escape every time. His senses picked up when she was about to pause the world around them, but then he’d freeze. And by the time everything started again, she was gone.

It drove him insane.

Tonight was no different. A jewelry heist, a masked woman with a cape and purple eyes. Impossibly fast, and on the run. But there were no causalities; no one hurt seriously. Peter supposed he should be thankful that she wasn’t that kind of criminal.

Swinging across the city, Peter had to rely heavily on his senses to pick up on her powers. The closer he got, the stronger his senses became, until he finally dropped down onto a rooftop. Time Warp was stuffing a bag with jewelry, analyzing specific pieces. She didn’t even look up though.

“I need to start playing hard to get; you’re getting faster,” she teased, pushing her hood back to look at him fully.

Mask or no mask, Peter could assume she was beautiful and it annoyed him that he felt that way.

“Or you’re just getting slower,” he countered, shooting a web to snag the bag from her.

She didn’t seem phased. “Maybe I wanted to be caught. Maybe I want to be reformed.”

He looked down at the bag, then back at her, eyes narrowing behind his mask. “I don’t know if anti-hero is really your thing, Warp. You’re not a very good criminal, I can’t imagine you’d make a good hero either.”

Time Warp rolled her eyes, standing up straight now as she set her hands on her hips. The cape fell back off her shoulders. “I think you just don’t want me to distract you while you’re playing. I see how you look at me, Spidey.”

Peter scoffed. “You can’t see anything, I don’t even blink.”

It was certainly a plus from his costume; his goggles didn’t give away every emotion he portrayed. His alternate version’s were way too expressive, in his opinion. There wasn’t a need for all his enemies to see how he felt behind the mask. Especially when he was definitely checking them out.

His senses panicked suddenly, and just as he raised his hand to web her, time stopped. When he returned to his senses, she was closer, standing chest to chest with him. Even with her heeled boots, she was several inches shorter. “Am I not pretty, Spider-Man?” She pouted, reaching up to run her nails against his mask. “I bet you’re very pretty under that mask.”

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he offered sarcastically, snatching her wrist.

“Hmm, tempting, but I don’t think it’s your face I really wanna see.” She glanced down then back up, winking playfully. Under his mask, Peter blushed furiously then he pulled away from her and dropped her wrist. She pouted again, crossing her arms over her chest. “I bet your girlfriend is just dying for you to be home every night. Or maybe your boyfriend? You look like a guy who swings in everyway possible.”

“I think you’re projecting —“

“We could make it a three way —“

“Anddd I’m taking you to jail now,” he finally said, shooting a web to yank her back to him, holding her wrists now.

She gasped, caught off guard, but a wicked grin soon replaced her surprise. “Ooh, Spidey, I didn’t know you liked to tie’em up. I’m into it —do you use the webbing in the bedroom?”

“That’s not really your business, is it?” He argued, looking down at her before he turned her around, holding her hands behind her back now to prevent her from escaping.

She pressed her body into his, looking up at him from behind. “I’d love to make it my business. What do you say?”

“I’d rather eat glass, honestly.”

“The quarters in your pocket say otherwise.”

Peter panicked slightly, pushing her away instinctively. By the time he realized she was just teasing, time had stopped once more. And when it restarted, she (and the jewelry) were gone.

God, he hated her.

———

Requests are OPEN | Let’s Do the Time Warp (Again)

———

Taglist: @blankspaceblankday

#andrew!peter x reader #andrew garfield x reader #andrew garfield #tasm!peter x reader

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vintamcu · 2 years

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Your Favorite Villain│Andrew Garfield!Spiderman x Villain!Reader

Warnings: Brief descriptions of violence, weapons, and injury; cursing; slight angst; set in tasm!

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: A certain operation of seeking revenge goes wrong when you team up with Spiderman.

Author's Note: No spoilers for Spiderman: NWH! Just to clarify, the reader’s ability is that they can teleport themselves and any inanimate object. Also, the reader’s villain name (I really consider them an anti-hero at this point) is Blink. They’re essentially based off of Blink from the X-Men.

You can read the first part here! It’s not necessary to do so, both fics are stand-alone.

Normalcy is a delight only so many could enjoy.

You were not one of those who could. Sitting in a lecture hall, twirling a pencil in your hand, you ignore the dull ache coming from your left side. Last night, you had proudly come home with expensive goods, courtesy of the Russian mafia. Unfortunately, for some odd reason, they had not taken kindly to your presence, resulting in you having bruised ribs and cuts along your back.

"What'd I miss?" Hearing a familiar Queen's accent, you perk up, your heart ever so slightly skipping a beat. The seat next to yours is suddenly filled, and you look to your right to see Peter Parker looking over at you with a smile.

"Nothing important. The professor was just discussing how he'll be curving everyone's final grade depending on how we do on the final."

Peter clumsily sets his skateboard down near your feet, making a loud noise as he does so. You hold back a laugh as a few of your peers glance back, wondering what was going on. As soon as they notice it's Peter, they're quick to turn back around, used to his antics. Your eyes flicker back towards the professor, a small smile on your lips as you do.

Peter Parker.

A person who brought you a sense of normalcy, some solace in your new life. Neither of you were close, despite having gone to high school together and coincidentally being in a few of the same classes at your university due to overlapping requisites to graduate. You couldn't really call him a friend, but he was familiar. He kept a part of you at bay, the one that appeared when you discovered you had abilities. The part of you that didn't regard others and only sought to satisfy their selfish desires.

"Hey, do you want to study tomorrow for the final?"

Looking at Peter, you allow yourself to briefly admire his fluffy brown hair, his warm eyes that were always so comforting. "Tomorrow? S-Sure."

You curse at yourself for stuttering, wishing you had your alter-ego's confidence. Thankfully, Peter doesn't acknowledge it, only smiling before turning his attention back to the lecture. For the rest of the two hours, you spend all your energy ignoring your anticipation for tonight. It was a different type of feeling, an excitement that came when you stole something that was considered impossible to do so. An excitement that you got when you saw—when you saw Spiderman.

Peter quickly catches your attention again, murmuring an apology for distracting you. He explains that sometimes he has to abruptly cancel his plans. Aunt May would need him for something, sometimes picking her up from work so she wouldn't have to walk alone in the dark.

Appreciating his love for his aunt, you nod understandingly. "It's not a problem. It is what it is, you know?"

———

As you appear on the roof of the Metropolitan Museum, a smirk appears on your lips as you see Spiderman lying in wait. Sneakily making your way towards him, you don't get the chance to wrap your arms around his neck, his hearing far too enhanced compared to yours. He's quick to hear you, the sound of you warping, your feet touching gravel, and the sound of your heart as you make your way closer. He envied you, how you could keep a steady heart rate near him when his raced when in close proximity to you.

"Well look who it is." You murmur softly, a teasing tone in your voice. "I didn't know you were a fan of art."

Spiderman shakes his head, looking at you briefly before looking through the glass ceiling, tracking Volnov's henchmen as they move the exhibit's pieces in wooden crates. "I'm not, but it's suspicious that Volnov would be funding an art exhibit. Not sure if you met the guy, but he's not one for art. What about you? Here to steal some art?"

It was a genuine question, you could tell from the shift in his posture. Crouching down next to him, you laugh. "Not tonight. I'm actually here to see what Volnov's up to, maybe meddle with his plans."

"You shouldn't, Blink." Spiderman whips his head towards you, his voice displaying concern. "These men are dangerous. You don't want to get involved—"

"I can handle myself, Spidey." You cut him off, grabbing him lightly by the chin as you stare at him. If only he knew what you did last night. "But thanks for the concern. It's cute."

"So what's our plan?" Pressing your hand against the glass, you scan the area below, deciding on where it would be best to teleport.

"Our plan? There is no 'our' in this." You could just imagine the look on his face as he said that, the scoff under his breath as he attempted to argue the notion of you two ever working together.

Rolling your eyes, you give him a look. While he would never admit it, the two of you worked incredibly well together. Even when the both of you were known to work alone, and—you know—you being a villain, working together felt unnaturally natural.

With a slight tilt of your head and eyes narrowed, you stare him down until he relents. He's first to share what he knows, you doing so after. Albeit, withholding some information to not incriminate yourself. Fixing your mask, you stand up, irises white as you focus on a location.

"See you inside, Spidey." Blowing a kiss, you chuckle as you appear inside the museum. Hiding behind one of the large wooden crates, you examine your surroundings. Peering down the other entryways, you quickly do a headcount before peering up above you.

"There's about fifteen to your right, and seventeen on your left. I only saw four behind me in the other room. You got that?" Looking up, you watch as the hero gives a thumbs up before disappearing from view, presumably to go find his own way in.

Lucky bastard with his super hearing.

Swiftly you move throughout the exhibit, disappearing and reappearing behind whatever you could to keep your cover. Slinking around a corner, you hear Volnov bark orders at his men, telling them to be careful when moving the cargo. Filled with annoyance at the man who had successfully left a bruise on you, your fingers tingle with anticipation, attention zeroing on him.

"I wouldn't if I were you." Your back is pressed against the wall, arms encasing you, preventing you from moving. "You're quick, but are you sure you can dodge a rain of bullets?"

Looking up at your captor, your shoulders relax as you realize it's Spiderman. Letting your head rest on the wall, you tighten your jaw. "Not sure, but I'm willing to test that theory."

"Don't be so reckless."

You don't make a sarcastic retort, only tilting your head in the direction of Volnov and his men. The sooner Spiderman figured out what the cargo was and handled it, the sooner you could complete your goal. Making Volnov suffer. You and the hero make eye contact, counting down to three. He makes his grand reveal, calling everyone's attention and leaving you a window of opportunity to find out what was in those crates.

You warp towards the crates as soon as you hear the sounds of grunts and webs being shot. Picking the largest one, you're quick in opening it. Furrowing your brow, you discover that there were copper sculptures. Touching them, you determine that they weren't made of what they appeared. They were hollow and far too light to be copper. Grabbing one from the top, you break it in half, revealing safely packed vials. Examining them more closely, you narrow your eyes as you realize where they came from.

Oscorp Industries.

There had been reports of stolen samples, though of what you never knew. Things were kept tightly under wraps, and you had forgotten the incident, deciding it was not your problem. Touching the crate, you build the energy to move multiple containers to a different location.

"If any of them move, if you move so much as a muscle, a bullet goes in your head." A Russian accent comes from behind as the barrel of a gun is pressed against your head.

"Ah, Volnov! I was wondering when you would show up." Your tone is joking, hiding your building anger towards the man and signaling Spiderman that you were in a minor predicament. "It's not polite to point weapons at friends' heads."

"Neither is it to steal from them, but you had no trouble doing that to me yesterday."

"Ah but that was yesterday, and today is today!" Slowly turning around, you make eye contact with the man. He was in his early fifties, dressed in a crisp suit and tie. He would have seemed like any ordinary businessman, at least, if his hands and necks weren't covered in tattoos. "Can't you forgive me?"

"Rot in hell, Blink."

"You first."

Your light-hearted demeanor changes, a scowl replacing your smile as you reappear behind Volnov. The gun is ripped out of his hands, flung across the room before he is bound by Spiderman's webs. Kicking him behind the leg, so he drops to his knees, you're quick to check his pockets for anything else.

"There are vials in the sculptures. They were just using the exhibit as a cover to move them to their next location." Brushing any loose hair strands away, you glance around to see the rest of Volnov's henchmen incapacitated. You were impressed, but you'd never admit it aloud to the hero.

"Where are they from?"

"Beats me," you lie. You bend down, forcing Volnov to smile by pulling at his cheeks, "But I bet our friend here would know."

The man below murmurs a string of curses in his native tongue, and though you weren't fluent, you could get the gist of what he was saying. Rolling your eyes, you sway on the balls of your feet before quickly knocking him out.

"What'd you do that for?"

Peter was bewildered, not understanding why'd you do something like that all of a sudden. Tonight was different. You weren't your usual self. Of course, usual wasn't a word he would use to describe you, but given what happened, there was something off. You had a personal vendetta against Volnov.

"Just cause."

Feeling the hero grab your wrist, you look down at where his hand was before looking back up at him. "This has to do with yesterday, right? Volnov mentioned that you stole from him. Is that true, Blink?"

"No! Well—maybe. But it cancels out, doesn't it? It's not like I was stealing from good people, I was stealing from the Russian mafia." By your mannerisms, Peter could tell you weren't concerned at all.

"You're going to get yourself hurt."

"Like I said, Spidey. I can take care of myself. Besides, when you're in this industry, getting hurt is kind of expected. It is what it is."

It is what it is.

Peter stiffens, his grasp on your wrist becoming tighter. It wasn't a common phrase, not in the city of New York. Yet there was one person, one individual, who had said it in high school and continued to do so well into college. When things went wrong, when plans didn't go according to plan. No matter the situation, they held it together, powering through as they understood that the world would not always be generous.

(Y/n) (L/n).

(Y/n) was someone who made him smile as Peter Parker, who had given him a reason to appreciate and understand why he kept his identity anonymous. From high school, he could remember you as the school's wallflower. He wasn't much different, still isn't, but at the very least, you were an active participant and didn't shy away from helping others. But after he met Blink, he was racked for guilt. For thinking of you and the villain he chased. How he admired both qualities in the two of you.

And as he stood in front of Blink, he could now imagine your face behind the mask.

"You good, Spidey?" You ask, gently tugging your wrist. To no avail, he doesn't let go, only continuing to stare.

Something felt wrong. You could feel it in your gut. His other hand slowly reaches for your face, and that's when you realize it. He was planning to take off your mask. "Something tells me you're not going to let me go so easily this time."

You're able to dodge it before it happens, warping away to the other side of the room as he uses his web shooter. "Come on, Spiderman. Talk to me."

The hero doesn't respond, only stalking towards you. You internally debate, wondering if you should just make a break for it or fight. Both options weren't great, but if he attempted to unmask you, you would do the same to him.

Eyes flashing white, you use your ability to your advantage. He was quick, his reflexes and senses far advanced in comparison to you. Yet you knew what made him tick, how a giggle in his ear and a brush of your hand could make him stumble. It wasn't necessarily fair, but you didn't play by the rules.

You appear, disappear, and then reappear. You had gotten a few solid punches and kicks in, all thanks to your suggestive comments when you could make them. But it didn't matter, not when he was so determined. As you reappear on his right, slightly behind, you feel his elbow dig into your left side, your injured left side. The pain reverberates throughout your body, causing you to falter and lose your focus.

The hero wastes no time, turning his body towards you. You find yourself on the ground, hands pinned down by your side, as Spiderman hovers above you. Peter felt his heart pounding in his chest, and he could hear yours too. If he were right—no, he didn't want to be right. He could let this all go, live blissfully ignorant, and ignore all the signs. But that wasn't who he was. Running his finger along the edge of your mask, you feel his fingers brush the nape of your neck before unclasping it from the back of your head.

Panic sets, your eyes wide as he takes his time in removing it. You sense him hesitating, and you quickly waste no time directing your attention to his mask. Never had you removed something so closely on a person, not like this. Anything could go wrong. You had seen what happened when you attempted to warp a living organism.

Yet it worked, as your mask clattered to the side of you, and Spiderman's mask now in your clenched fist, your eyes met those of someone you would never dare to imagine.

Peter Parker.

Taglist: @maybe-a-fangurl @brynthebulldozer

#the amazing spider man #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman #andrew garfield #peter parker #spiderman x reader #andrew garfield x reader #peter parker x reader #andrew garfield fanfiction #peter parker fanfiction #spiderman x you #andrew garfield x you #peter parker x you

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2-fast-2-curious · 2 years

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Guess This is Winter // Our Bodies Are Young and Blue

Summary: Peter 1 and 2 are calling in a favour from everyone’s favourite dysfunctional couple to help Peter 3. Venom and Eddie are certainly creative in their approach.

Words: 2.2K

Pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x Female Silk!Reader, I mean there’s a bit of Symbrock

Warnings: Sexual frustration. Terrible science talk that I can’t even reread because it’s so cringe. Maybe there’s a swear, Venom and Eddie being mean to each other, TASM!Peter Parker is bisexual which is just facts, Peter 1 and Peter 2 not being aware that Tom Hardy’s Eddie Brock is a hottie. Also Venom wanting to eat people’s heads. Also I have no idea how to refer to groups of Spider-men.

Author’s Note: Never intended to expand this beyond a one shot but this is the fourth thing I’ve written for this series. Honestly it would be hilarious if Peter and Silk!Reader are cured and sent back to their universe only to be dusted with sex pollen.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Random Drabble

Masterlist for Peter Parker | Here’s more of my Venom writing

The other Peters were relieved when you and Peter 3 came clean about what was going on between the two of you. They thought he had developed a sex addiction from the trauma of not being able to save Gwen and were debating having an intervention for him. After describing some of the symptoms and patterns you and Peter had observed the other Peters seemed to have come to the hypothesis that whatever was in your system reached it’s maximum potency in about 15 minutes at which point you and Peter would need orgasms in order to revert to your normal, less-sexually charged states.

“Whatever serum we develop will need to be administered at that peak potency to be most effective.” Peter 2 said pointing to some scribbles on the white board. “Ideally maybe even later.”

“That means we’d have to keep them from…um being intimate until the serum is ready.” Peter 1 said. “But that would be like a full time job, we can’t be doing lab work while also trying to keep two super strong Spider-people away from each other.”

“We’re going to need some help and I know just who can.”

Eddie had been waiting for his Doordash order from the Cheesecake Factory so he wasn’t expecting to find a quartet of Spider-people on the other side of his door. “Eddie, look the Spiderlings came back.”

When Eddie and Venom were transported across universes they used the intel they gathered from the bartender in Mexico to get on the first flight to New York, looking for Spider-man. Peter 2 was surprised that this universe’s Venom was less of a villain and more of anti-hero even if he was just as chaotic. Since Venom and Eddie didn’t seem hellbent on killing Spider-Man or taking over the world, the Peters decided to just let them chill in their own apartment with a steady supply of chocolate and regular check ups until they can figure out how to fix this.

“They have a new one.” Venom took note of the newest member, she had snow in her eyelashes and was shivering a bit from being underdressed for the cold New York weather. “She’s adorable”

Eddie coughed awkwardly even though Venom was right and could read all of Eddie’s thoughts. Eddie erroneously thought Venom’s lack of social skills meant he wasn’t able to pick up on the sexual tension between you and the tallest member of the group. By sifting through Venom’s memories they figured that Spider-man was also from Venom and Eddie’s universe. “So did you figure out a way to get us back?”

Venom scoffed. “Eddie, you really are an idiot. Why do I even let you speak?”

“Why are we even paying for couple’s counselling if you don’t do what we discussed-”

“Um guys...” You trailed off trying to come up with a reason why you and Peter couldn’t be kept apart by Eddie and Venom. Peter 1 and 2 seemed completely obvious to how unassumingly sexy Eddie and Venom were. Instead of one guy you were extremely attracted to, you would be sharing a small space with two of them and a symbiote. While you and your Peter couldn’t read each other’s minds your shared intuition told you that he also found Eddie hot. You didn’t know how open he had been with the Peters about his sexuality so you decided it was probably better if you kept your mouth shut about that part.

“Um… no” “Actually we need to work on something else right now.” Peter 1 said, he looked into the messy, unkept apartment and it’s occupant and symbiote could be described similarly. This would be the perfect. As far as Peter 1 was concerned there was nothing less romantic than Eddie’s apartment, a mouthy symbiote, and an unhinged former journalist who looked like he slept in a dumpster.

“It’s the pheromones, Eddie.” Venom said licking his tongue against the side of your face. He proceed to lick the side of Peter 3’s face and you swore you saw him blush. “Yup pheromones.” The first time Venom met the three Peter Parkers he had tasted the air around them and he could definitely tell there was something different with Peter 3.

Peter 1 was a bit skeptical. “How did you know?”

“80 billion lightyears of hive knowledge across universes-”

Eddie groaned. “Trust me guys, you don’t want to hear this. Venom just knows things okay.”

“Pheromones, okay that’s something to start with.” Peter 2 said. “What we need your help with is to keep them apart and stop them from getting intimate so our cure can work.”

“Yeah, I think we can do that.” Eddie always wished he could do more to help them but he wasn’t much of a scientist and Venom’s form was always breaking things and knocking over chemicals in the lab.

Venom agreed. “Yes, Eddie is an expert at foiling sexual encounters and turning people off. He hasn’t had a date in like five years.”

Eddie huffed in annoyance. “Its almost like something happened to me five years ago that might make having normal-”

Peter 1 and 2 decided it was probably time to leave. “Anyway, we’re going to start working on the cure. Call us if you need anything.”

Venom and Eddie led you and Peter 2 into the apartment which is basically as much of a pigsty as the one in San Francisco since Venom has decided that he loves to feed pigeons. Eddie cleared the couch of his dirty clothes and hid them in the oven. Eddie motioned for you and Peter to sit on the couch while he answered the door, now that was probably his DoorDash order not that he was really in the mood for cheesecake anymore. You and Peter had started off on opposite ends of the couch but with Eddie out of view you two were slowly inching closer together.

Venom was nothing if not mission oriented and jumped into action, wedging his giant body between you and Peter on the couch squishing the two of you to the sides of the sofa and using some of his tendrils to keep the two of you secure. Eddie also starts playing those annoying kids videos on Youtube that Venom loves to watch for some reason.

It’s been half an hour and you and Peter have listened to many grating, upbeat children's songs about the solar system, the sounds animals make, the alphabet, and emotions. You were pretty sure this was how they tortured people to get confessions.

“I have a question” Venom says absent-mindedly as he queues up more unboxing videos on the iPad.

“Yes Vee?” Eddie had given up and helped himself a slice of Oreo cheesecake from the take out container.

“Why are the other Spider-men working on a cure? Have what they been inflicted with really that bad?” He asked studying the looks of embarrassment and frustration on both you and Peter’s beautiful faces. Venom was a hedonist, he didn’t understand why humans were always trying to control the natural urges of others. Mostly because he was hoping he could spin this into support for why Eddie should allow him to eat brains. “They are both young, attractive, and have superpowers. It is only natural that the universe would want them to mate.”

“Well Venom…it just distracts us from a lot of other we should be doing.” You explained shying away from the symbiote’s intense gaze on you. “We should be out here trying to help people and we can’t do that if we have uncontrollable carnal urges that make us unable to focus for more than ten minutes.”

Venom was intrigued. “Are there a lot of bad guys in New York?”

Peter ran through all the petty crime and supervillains he’s seen through the years and skeptical about why he was asking. Venom’s slimy appendages and shapeshifting nature did make him sound like a certain alien goo monster that had been mentioned. “Um yeah there’s quite a bit.”

“Eddie, we should let the Spiderlings focus on procreating and move to New York. There will be lots of bad guys for us to eat the heads of.”

Eddie frowned, maybe in a past life he would’ve liked New York but he must preferred the mind climate of San Francisco, especially with the brutal winter he was experiencing right now. It wasn’t as fun riding a motorcycle in New York with how crowded it was. Plus there were no shortage of annoying tech bros he could let Venom eat the heads of if Venom really put his foot down. “Dude, do you really want to leave San Francisco? That’s where Anne, Dan, and Mrs. Cheng are. Plus Sonny and Cher might still be at the Museum of Fine Art.”

Venom considers this remembering the week Mr Belvedere stayed with Eddie and Venom while Anne and Dan were on their honeymoon. The cat was very fluffy and affectionate and Venom couldn’t wait to visit him when he got back to their universe. “Maybe not.”

The terrible kids videos go on for a while with the only sound coming from Venom laughing at the terrible humourless jokes. Eddie thought you and Peter might have fallen asleep but instead he the two of you were just eye fucking each other from the opposite sides of the couch. Eye fucking was fine, Eddie just wasn’t supposed to let any actual fucking to happen.

Suddenly, the power goes out cutting off the lights and annoying voice acting out a tea party which various sized dolls from incongruent media properties. Eddie has most of Venom remain on the couch to keep the peace while Eddie navigates through the darkness to grab some candles for light.

He hears moaning and what sounds to be sloppy kisses and groans at the fact that Venom had one job. “We’re supposed to keep them apart.”

“Eddie, what do you want from me? They’re so strong even though they’re little. How can I focus on watching the Spiderlings while making sure you don’t trip.”

“You don’t need to-ow” Eddie says accidentally bumping into the stack of dumbbells. Eddie gets back to the couch with the candles and Venom finally regains the strength to pull you and Peter off of each other.

“Um I’m actually pretty tall for a human.” Peter says awkwardly. “We can’t all be almost 8 feet tall and five hundred pounds.”

You had to stifle a full on guffaw of laughter, damn Peter was adorable when he had a crush and possibly a size kink.

A chime from Eddie’s phone interrupted your thoughts of Venom’s tendrils restraining you and Peter in a different context, at the mercy of his giant form and tongue.

“Your friends said they have a cure ready. They’ll be here in about ten minutes.” Peter noticed a flash of sadness across your features and wished he could hold your hand and tell you things would be alright.

You decided to distract yourself from the anxiety you felt about not knowing what was happening next by talking with Eddie and Venom. You didn’t know about Peter but you didn’t have any immediate plans to go to San Francisco so who knows when you might see them again? Plus it would probably be more productive to help out Peter than to have your mind consumed with unanswerable questions. “Eddie, has it really been five years?”

“What?” Your question caught Eddie off-guard, he was on this phone checking when the power might come back.

“Well Venom said earlier that it-”

“Oh…um yeah it’s been a while.” Eddie wasn’t exactly sure where you were going with this. Maybe you and Peter had come up with some sort of plan where Eddie becomes mortified to death and the two of you run away. He can’t believe he’s talking about love life or lack therefore with two young people are currently experiencing their longest break in sexual activity in the past 12 hours.

You gave Peter a knowing but mischievous smile and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to kill you or kiss you. “Well I just find it hard to believe that a ruggedly handsome man like yourself-”

“Should you really be saying that in front of him?” Eddie looked between you and Peter in confusion. The last thing he wanted to do was get into a fight with Spider-man over a pretty lady when two others were on their way.

“You are a very attractive man. You and Venom make quite a pair.” It felt good for Peter to finally get it off his chest. You made it so easy to fall for you. He hadn’t been able to let anyone close to him in the longest time and here you were making Peter feel understood and accepted. The spider bite might have been the thing to bring you and Peter together but he it was your deep understanding of who he was at his core, that’s what made Peter believe you were someone he wouldn’t be able to be without.

“When we’re back in our universe and you and Venom are still lonely for companionship. You could always visit Peter and I in New York. I think we could have some fun.” You offered with a wink.

Before Eddie or Venom could respond, you could see Peter 1 and 2 opening one of the windows near the kitchen and coming into the room ready to administer your cure.

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