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frost-queen · 3 months

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Starcrossed lovers // part 2 (Reader x Peter Parker) NWH

Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn, @minimin1993, @narniansmagic, @benonlinear, @canthebest1, @mellowdreamlandpost-blog, @thewhitewolfmarvel, @freek12569

Summary: The battle is ending as you finally have a sight of why Peter was so drawn to you. Can you rewrite the stars or will they remain unchanged forever? [ part 1 & part 3 & part 4 & part 5 ]

You gasped looking up. A sandstorm picked up as broken off pieces of the structure got lifted up in the air. From your position on the ground, you could easily see the battle. All three Peter’s swinging on their web. Peter, your Peter was focused on Green Goblin. Peter two focusing on Lizard.

Peter three avoiding a bolt of electricity. They were so occupied they didn’t had eyes for what was happening behind them. Eyes widening you saw the broken off pieces fly towards Peter three. You ran out from your hiding position. – “Peter!” – you screamed loud, gaze upwards.

Peter three’s eyes widened hearing your voice. As if his spider tingle was tuned on finding your voice blindly. His immediate reaction was to look down to you. – “Peter!” – you screamed again pointing upwards. Peter’s gaze went back up, looking back in horror at the flying piece of structure coming his way.

He shot a web swinging past it just in time. His action made him nearly bump against Peter one, your Peter. Peter three was dangling sloppy and out of balance. He shot another web directing him to vast ground on the construction. He needed to find his balance again.

His feet touched vast ground as he stumbled a bit forwards. Ned moving out of the way just in time. – “What are you doing the battle is up there.” – Ned called out. Peter grabbed onto the railing, shooting Ned a glare out of breath. MJ slapped him hard against the arm. – “You try fighting off all those villains.” – MJ said coming to his defence.

Peter saluted her before jumping on the railing and leaping into the depts. MJ came running over to the railing, greeted by a tumbling Peter in the air as his web had released. Strange was on top as a piece of construction went his way.

He quickly opened a portal as it flung through it. Another portal opened closer to the ground. Surprised you looked up, eyes wide in horror. A piece of structure slowly falling down. You started to scream, running to a direction, hoping you’d be fast enough to not get squashed. – “Y/n!” – Peter one called out in a panic.

“On it!” – Peter two replied setting himself off to jump down. He kept falling till he shot out a web. Changing his position to swing fast, opening an arm. He lifted his feet up so they wouldn’t scrape the ground as he flung low.

With a loud oof where you grabbed and lifted up in the air with him. – “Careful out there Y/n.” – he said with a soft chuckle. – “Blame Strange.” – you mumbled out. Peter two came to a stop further away. He let go of you. – “Go hide!” – he ordered before launching himself back in the air.

You ran to some rubble, finding a hiding spot in between. There you waited for the battle to come to an end. Hoping Strange wouldn’t drop another boulder on you. While you waited, unconsciously were you pulled back to the feeling when you fell.

The fear making your muscles tense. Then that warm feeling came when Peter caught you. Somehow when you were in his arms, your fear faded away. Seeing the fear and heartbreak in his eyes made you yearn to comfort him.

Being with him was like a movie you had seen before. Something close yet out of reach. There was no denying the way his presence made you feel. Feel visible. With Peter, your Peter you were visible too, but not that much.

You very much felt like a side-character watching the main one’s have a wonderful life as you faded out into nothingness. Only being present when you were requested. Sometimes you felt lonely around your friends. Almost as if you were that one person just too much.

It wasn’t a great feeling. With Peter, Peter three you didn’t felt that way. It felt like you were actually mattered. A feeling you wanted to hold onto for as long as it could.

Everyone made their way down as the battle had been stilled. Peter one had held MJ to bring her down safely. Ned was with Strange as Peter two and three joined. MJ and Peter hugged tightly. Ned exhaled relieved running up to them. Peter three looked around worried.

“Y/n? Where is Y/n?” – he said in a bit of a panic. You hear your name, moving a fallen plate out of your way to clear your way. - “Peter!” – you called out as three heads turned your way. You came out of your hiding place now that the battle had toned down. – “Y/n.” – Peter said from your earth relieved.

You started to run up to them beyond relieved that no one was too injured. Perhaps a few bruises. He smiled opening his arms a bit to you, ready to receive a hug from you. Yet his smile faltered when you ran past him to another Peter. You swung your arms around Peter three as they liked to call him and spun around with him as he hugged you tightly back.

Peter, your Peter gaped confused at you. Peter two came by his side placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. Peter three had his hand against the back of your head. – “Are you hurt?” – he asked setting you back down. You shook your head, presenting your good state to him.

“All clear.” – you joked making him smile saddened. – “Peter.” – Strange called out. Peter three lowered his head knowing what was to come. Tilting your head a bit, you watched Peter carefully. – “Why are you sad?” – you asked.

He lifted his head up with a teary smile. – “You gave me something I could only dream off.” – he told you letting his thumb brush against your cheek. You smiled genuinely back at him. – “Peter.” – Strange persisted on, waiting to send him back. Peter’s smile faded knowing he’d never get to see you again.

MJ picked up on the way Peter was looking at you. It made him look at her own Peter for a moment. – “You lost someone didn’t you?” – she asked out of the blue. Peter lifted his head up to her, surprised. He then nodded saddened. – “I…I did…” – he answered. His hand slid down as his head lowered briefly. – “I…I lost your MJ…” – he gestured at your Peter. – “My… my Y/n.” – he swallowed down the knot in his throat.

You blinked surprised to him, hearing your name out of his mouth. Suddenly it was all so clear. The feeling why you felt so attracted to Peter. Like magnets. Your first reaction was to throw your arms around him and embrace him. Wanting to be close to him.

Peter hugged you tightly back. He didn’t want the feeling to end. Neither did you. – “Peter! Say your final goodbye’s.” – Strange called out. It made you pull away. – “Can’t… can’t he stay?” – you asked as his hand was still on your lower back. Strange shook his head. – “No kid, this world can’t have two spiderman. He belongs on his earth, where they need a spiderman like him.” – Strange explained.

Peter and you looked at each other. – “What if…” – Peter started as you finished off his words. – “What if I come with him?” – you suggested. – “What?” – Peter called out, your Peter. – “Y/n you can’t be serious!” – he called out walking up to you. – “You belong here with us!” – he made perfectly clear.

“Do I Peter?” – you answered back. You turned away from your Peter, back to Strange. – “I can come with him right? He lost his Y/n, so it wouldn’t create a paradox, right?” – you explained. – “Kid…” – Strange began as you knew he was going to tell you no.

“That’s not how it works. The you from his world is no more. You don’t belong there. I’m sorry.” – he told you. – “There must be a way?” – Peter three exclaimed. – “There isn’t!” – Strange answered snappy. Peter, your Peter was pulling on your wrist, pulling you away from him. – “No… please…” – you begged reaching out to Peter. Peter knew he was being selfish but he wanted you.

He missed you so deeply, he couldn’t imagine a world without you. Peter reached back for you. You broke free from Peter’s grip, running up to him. You clamped yourself onto him, not wanting to let go. – “I just want you.” – you told him. Peter held tightly onto you, afraid he might lose you again if he loosened his grip on you. – “I love you Y/n. On every earth.” – he told you as you slowly felt his grip loosen.

Confused you stumbled a bit forwards at the loss of a grip. With glossy eyes your arms embraced yourself. Crying you fell to your knees. Peter, your Peter approached you placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. You brushed it off, wanting nothing of him. Strange had finished the spell without anyone knowing.

Peter stumbled forwards, looking confused at his empty hands. – “No…no…n-n-no…” – he stumbled out grabbing the air, wanting to feel your last touch. – “Nooo!” – he cried out dropping to his knees. Strange had finished the spell. Sending him back to his earth alone. It felt more dreadful knowing he had you back, just to be taken away.

Once again his heart began to bleed with sorrow and grief. Grief overtaking him so badly, he started to hyperventilate in the abandoned alleyway. This was torture. After a while he dragged himself back to his house. Aunt May looking worriedly up.

“Where have you…” – she was about to scold him when she noticed the stained tears on his cheek. She immediately ran up to him, embracing him for comfort. – “I’ve lost her again…” – he said to Aunt May as she furrowed her brows.

She moved some hair aside to sooth him. She knew how hard your death had fallen upon him. Peter went to his bedroom letting himself fall onto his bed. Staring at the ceiling, he felt like spinning. – “I’ve lost you once, but not again…” – he told himself.

“I’ll find a way… even if it is the last thing I do.” – he rolled over to his side, his gaze falling on the many pictures of you and him on his wall. – “Come back to me…” – he said with a tiny crack in his voice.

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don't worry a next part will come

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marvellover-12writes · 1 year

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Remember to Breathe

Pairing: Tasm!peter x reader (or any peter would work)

Summary: Reader recalls their first time experiencing a panic attack with Peter around to help.

Warnings⚠️: Angst, Fluff, Panic Attacks, Depression and References to Depression, definitely some good old Hurt/Comfort, brief mention of suicide, Peter being an angel (I think that counts)

Notes: This is not beta’d all mistakes are my own.

Feedback is greatly appreciated. This is based off of my experience with a panic attack which is not going to be the same as everyone. I tried to keep the reader gender neutral. This also has a past tense view as reader recalls the event.

Italics: inner monologue

Bold red: intrusive thoughts

I still don’t know what was really going through my mind that evening. I can only recall the emotional and physical pain pulsing through my body in random outbursts.

Oxygen.

I. Need. Oxygen.

In my chest, a knot tightened around my lungs, pulling tighter and tighter until I had no control over my own body. As the knot restricted my lungs and chest, the rope spread out to tie new knots around my head and limbs. The room started spinning and blurring together while I tried to force air in and out. But all I could manage were little gasps and hiccups as I began to sob uncontrollably. My hands were clenched tight, restricted by the ever growing rope residing in my body. Something heavy settled in my stomach and helped my body wage war on itself. I dropped to the tiled bathroom floor. Fear set in, and I couldn’t find a way to stop it.

BREATHE.

I know I need to breathe to avoid passing out!

I need to let this attack happen. I need to feel something again—but this is bad. I shouldn't be feeling this way.

I need help.

No, I’m just asking for attention.

How can I be asking for attention when no one is around to see me fall apart? I don’t want anyone to see me like this. This time is too bad. I might accidentally hurt myself if I can’t get a grip on reality.

I know, but I’m going to die. I can feel it. I can feel the lingering doom. Something’s going to get me.

Something is going to get me?

Something’s going to happen. I'm in danger!

I’m in my basement! Why am I so paranoid?

I’m in danger!

This is safe. I’m safe.

No! I feel death, and it’s coming for me.

I’m not going to die.

Yes I am!

No I’m not. No I’m not! This isn’t right. Nothing is going to get me. Something is wrong. What's the number of the hotline?

No! Not that one! They’ll contact the police or Peter. Isn’t it for suicide only? I’m not suicidal, and I can’t be a burden.

Okay.

The anonymous crisis line. I can text it.

What’s taking so long? This system is a failure. I shouldn’t have to ask others for help.

This time, I will.

I tried to grab my phone, but uncurling my hands is like trying to unwind a tight rubber band. Pins and needles took over my nerves as I forced the movement. I took my time typing and retyping at least four times until I had got it right. I couldn’t call them; it would've been too real for me, so I texted instead. The volunteer for the crisis hotline introduced herself as Sara. She guided me through breathing exercises and asked me about my mental health history. I told her about things no one knew at the time.

“What could have triggered this feeling for you?” she texted me.

“I was diagnosed with depression and general anxiety a few months ago. I've been seeing a therapist since tenth grade. It got so bad my family and friends finally began to notice.”

I continued talking to her and she asked me to describe my symptoms to her .Then she proceeded to ask why I had texted. After going over the symptoms including my hyperventilating, numb hands, shaking, and fear, she revealed that I was having a panic attack.

I still can’t get air. How do I calm down? The breathing method isn’t working.

That’s okay I don’t care. I’m just overreacting to all of this.

It’s all in my head.

Damn right it is! It’s not going anywhere! No one can help. I can’t even help myself. No one even noticed my withdrawal or overall irritability. My parents didn’t care until it affected them, and I told them I thought I was depressed. Peter hasn’t notice and he never will. HE CAN NEVER KNOW.

MY ENTIRE PERSONALITY CHANGED, AND THEY DIDN'T EVEN BLINK. They didn’t notice, and they still don’t care.

They do care! Peter cares! This is serious. I need help. Therapy isn’t working anymore. Why can’t I feel genuinely content for once? Why is it always anger or sadness? Isn’t that the whole point of therapy—fuck therapy—to help me feel again? I need more help. I can’t be alone right now—but I am alone!

I am alone and no one cares! Why doesn’t anyone care? Can’t they see I’m suffering? Can’t they see my fight to do basic tasks? I break almost every night, and does anyone ever notice?

No.

No! They don’t understand; they'll never understand. I don’t want their fake sympathy!! How can they tell me they’ve been where I’m at?! This is torture. This is hell!

No, it’s not. So many people have it worse—but no one will save ME!

Nobody even knows I’m suffocating in my own head. They don’t see my constant struggles and daily battles to get up out of bed. It’s a never ending war and no one wins, so who could possibly help?

Peter, he’s the only one who might understand. Close out of the hotline’s website.

For the second time I attempted to use my hands again, but they just wouldn’t cooperate. I pressed each button carefully with my knuckles as my thumbs had completely locked up. Eventually, I made it to Peter’s contact in my text messages.

“Can you please come over it’s an emergency”

“What’s going on??! Are you okay y/n?”

“You have to come over, it's an emergency.

I’m having a panic attack I can barely text, but it's not 911.

Please.”

“Okay hold on, wait for me. I’m on my way!”

I need to pick myself up off the bathroom floor.

Clothes. I need clothes and not this old itchy brown towel. He can't see me like this.

If I go get clothes, I’ll have to try to walk. I can barely type!

I’ll go slow. I have to open the window for Peter.

That’s a bad idea.

Yeah, I know it is.

I pulled myself up off the cold tile floor, and slowly walked to my room from the bathroom. On the way I shakily open the fire escape window, I don’t know when Peter will arrive, but I can’t let him see me like this so I continue to my room.

I get my clothes and grab an oversized white t-shirt I stole from Peter a couple weeks ago; it’s got black lined sleeves and a black collar. I took my nearest pair of pants; soft and fluffy white pajama pants with Care Bears on them. I stumbled a bit, struggling to get my hands around the fabric while shaking violently. Eventually, I succeeded in getting them on and I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

I look like a mess.

I could dry my hair. Put some makeup on. Change again. Stop. Crying.

No, I’m tired of pretending. He's going to be here soon, no point in trying to cover up the truth. This is real and I can’t be fighting it alone.

No one needs to know I’m struggling.

Someone needs to know if I want to get better.

Fine, but I look terrible.

I know.

I returned to the safety of the isolated bathroom in hopes of sheltering myself from reality. I sit waiting while the tears fall down my flushed cheeks. When Peter got there he knocked on the door and came in to see me sitting on the bath rug covering the cold floor, tears streaming down my face as I began to regret my decision. I curled further into myself. I couldn’t stop the shaking and panic that took over me.

He's going to judge me! I just lost my boyfriend! The love of my life! Look at his face! I scared him. How could he possibly want to be around me anymore after this?

I had called him there to help me. I couldn’t be alone in the midst of my world seemingly crumbling around me. I feared he would tell me it’s all in my head. Tell me I’m not actually sick. Tell me I’m making it up, but as he got closer he did the one thing I didn’t expect him to do. Peter quietly made his way onto the small brown bath rug on the floor, grabbed my hand, and wordlessly pulled me close so he could hug me. I couldn’t stop the new wave of tears spilling out and clinging to my eyelashes.

He knows. He understands. I am not alone anymore. It’s okay to break, he’ll pick up the shattered pieces and make it whole again. I am safe right now.

He sat there and let me cry while he encouraged me to breathe with him. Slowly my lungs began to do as they were told. My hands were still clenched, but no longer numb and tingling. My mind stopped telling me I had to be strong. I wasn’t alone. I finally reached out like I should have.

“Shhh y/n, it’s okay. I’m here and I love you. I need you here with me, and I know you’re scared, but I’m here for you. Remember to breathe.”

I love him with all my heart. If it wasn't for him I doubt I could’ve made it. I may never truly win the war with myself, but I won this battle, and that’s all I needed to do. I just needed another soldier to give me direction.

#maddie.writes #peter mcu #peter parker #spiderman #tasm!peter x y/n #hurt/comfort #tw depressing stuff #cute #peter three #tasm fic #panic attack #comfort #intrusive thoughts

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