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#spiderman far from home

Part 17 of ? 

Rating: M 

Pairing: Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Warning: Angst, PTSD, Mentions of Rape and Implied Masturbation

Part 16:


Peter had, in fact, heard of Matt Murdock. Murdock was the briefly famous lawyer of the Nelson & Murdock law firm, who had been responsible for representing Frank Castle. But he was known by another name in the darkened streets of Hell’s Kitchen – Daredevil. And Daredevil had been hunting Wilson Fisk since before Peter’s first encounter with Tony all those years ago. 

The information that Matt gave Peter was invaluable. Fisk owned a number of buildings that acted as hide-outs and safe houses all over the city, and no two were exactly alike. He even owned some of the businesses in the city, which Peter had already known. Peter had been going about hunting Fisk by visiting his various properties, and hoping that he would get lucky and be able to take him out. No such luck. 

“Fisk has a weakness,” Matt said, leaning against the lab table, arms crossed over his shabby suit. “Her name is Vanessa Marianna.” 

Peter exchanged a glance with Tony before looking back at Matt. “Are you suggesting I kidnap Fisk’s girlfriend?” Peter said. “Because that would be awfully un-heroic.” 

Matt scoffed. “No, no I am not.” He reached inside his suit pocket and pulled out an orange envelope with Vanessa’s name written across it in black sharpie. “This is a profile I put together on her – her address is in there, but I think it would be better if you paid her a visit at work. If anyone can get a message to Fisk it’s her.” 

“A message?” Tony echoed. 

“A threat,” Matt corrected. “Better yet, threaten her – that will grab his attention.” 

Peter shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t just go around threatening innocent –” 

Matt cut him off. “If she’s with Fisk, she’s not innocent. Besides, aren’t you forgetting the fact that we’re talking about the man who hired Harry Osborn to stalk and rape your girlfriend?” 

Peter’s jaw clenched and he was silent for a moment before he asked, “So where does she work?” 

Matt smiled at him and Peter had the eerie sense that maybe he could see them from behind those darkened glasses. “In an art gallery,” Matt told him. 


You were up until four o’clock in the morning the next day, tossing and turning, before you realized you wouldn’t be getting any sleep that night. Silently, you sat and disentangled yourself from Peter’s limbs only for him to wrap his arms around you, and pull you back against him. Super strength, you thought, right. 

You struggled to turn over in his grip, so that you were facing his naked torso. “Peter,” you hissed, pushing against him. “Peter, I need to get up.” 

Peter buried his lips sleepily in your hair, so that his words came out muffled. “Need sleep.” 

“I’ll come back to bed,” you promised, uncertain of whether or not you were actually lying. 

“Better,” Peter muttered, releasing you from his grasp and turning over onto his side. 

You couldn’t help but smile as you climbed out of bed and crossed the room. You weren’t worried about anyone seeing you. Your wardrobe was particularly un-sexy, and tonight you had chosen to wear a hoodie with a pair of gym shorts to bed. Nothing inappropriate. 

You made your way out into the hall and wandered over to the elevator where you punched the button for the common room. As you wandered closer to the common area that served as the living, kitchen, and dining quarters you became aware of noises coming from the kitchen. You paused in the darkened living room where an old black-and-white movie was playing on low volume on the television. 

“Hello?” you called out, feeling suddenly nervous. 

The lights in the kitchen flickered on and Bucky lumbered into view behind the breakfast bar. “Y/N?” he frowned. “What are you doing up?” 

You said nothing as you crossed over into the kitchen and sat down in one of the bar stools. “Couldn’t sleep,” you sighed, shaking your head. 

Bucky looked at you knowingly. “Nightmares?” 

“Sort of,” you muttered, watching Bucky putter around the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. When he raised the pot in your direction, silently asking if you would like some, too, you merely nodded. “I dreamed about the rape. That Harry was –” 

Bucky cut you off as he started to fill up the carafe with water. “So not nightmares – memories.” He turned off the water and crossed the kitchen to the little twelve cup coffee maker, the least fancy way of procuring caffeine in the tower. 

You watched him pour the water into the machine and replace the old filter with a new one. “How do you know so much about this?” 

He looked over his shoulder, smiling at you. “Because I’ve been there.” He walked back over to the coffee bar and leaned against it, crossing his fingers beneath his chin. 

“Right,” you said, catching on. “You were the….” Your voice trailed off quietly, not wanting to bring up his past life. 

“Go ahead and say it,” Bucky told you. “The Winter Soldier. That’s who I was – that’s who I am only this time, I’m working for the right side. The good one.” 

“And your memories keep you up at night?” you guessed and it came out as a question rather than a statement. 

Bucky shrugged while the coffee brewed in the background. “Sometimes. After I found the right meds and figured out my triggers, it started happening less and less.” 

“Your trigger?” you echoed. “What does that mean – do I have one?” 

“Probably,” Bucky said. “Were you doing something today or tonight that might have reminded you of the rape?” 

You felt your face burn red, and you looked down to stare at the marble counter top. You cleared your throat and said, “Um, well, I think Peter decided to maybe show off a little bit and he wanted to m-ma – he wanted to rub my back.” 

Bucky sighed and shook his head as he crossed the kitchen and grabbed two coffee mugs out of a cupboard. “Y/N,” he said. “Peter is a good kid, but he’s still a teenage boy. How do you take your coffee – sugar and creamer?” 

“Just creamer is fine,” you told him. “And I’m perfectly aware of how old my boyfriend is –” 

“That’s not what I meant,” Bucky said, pouring out the two cups of coffee. You noticed that he drank his coffee black. He carried the mugs back to the breakfast bar and sat down on the stool the farthest away from you, staring at you intently. “Boys his age have a lot of emotions, and just because he got bit by a radioactive spider that doesn’t change the fact that he’s going through puberty. You think he doesn’t look at naked girls in his free time?” 

You choked on your coffee. “I-I think that’s his business, Bucky. Not mine.” 

“It is your business, Y/N,” Bucky said, jabbing a finger in your direction. “Because the whole time he’s doing that, he’s pretending that those girls are you. He wants to have sex with you and if he says he doesn’t then he’s lying. He wants to have sex with you because he thinks if you sleep with him and it’s good, it’ll fix you –” 

“You can’t know that,” you said, cutting him off, even though you knew full well that Peter did want to have sex with you because you had asked him. And because he still tried to slip his hands under the hem of your shirt from time to time, apologizing afterwards each and every time. “You can’t just make these assumptions –” 

This time Bucky cut you off. “If he didn’t think this way, why does he keep putting you in sexual situations? Today, he was half-naked and giving you a rub down, and on the weekends he stopped sleeping in his own room. He sleeps in your room in your bed, and what does that usually lead to, Y/N?” 

You stared at him silently for a moment, your mouth opening and closing noiselessly. “Are you saying that Peter is trying to take advantage of me?” 

Bucky shook his head. “No, that’s not what I’m saying. At all.” He sighed. “What I’m saying is that Peter is a kid and kids make mistakes. He just got out of a relationship where I know for a fact he had some sort of sexual relationship with the girl because I’ve seen the pictures myself – do not tell him that – and he wasn’t even with the girl for that long, which means he rushed into things because he was stuck in the honeymoon phase. But with you, there is no honeymoon phase because you’re a victim and victims are unhappy which makes him unhappy. And his line of thinking is that if he can just get you to experience that honeymoon phase with him, then maybe you’ll feel better and maybe you’ll forget about the rape. He says he doesn’t care about sex, but that’s obviously not true or like I said, he wouldn’t keep putting you in sexual situations – hell, he might not even realize that he’s doing it. He’s got a good heart. He cares about you. But what he’s missing is that what might make you happy is clearly something you are not comfortable with or ready for.” 

You stared into the depths of your coffee mug, digesting everything he had just said. You wanted him to be wrong, but somewhere deep inside of you a voice was whispering that Bucky was right. “Can we please talk about anything else?” you asked in a voice that was barely even a whisper because the last thing you wanted to do was pick apart your relationship with Peter and find all the ways it was anything but perfect. 

Bucky smiled sadly at you. “Finish your coffee, doll. We’ve got training to do.” 


When you got to the tower’s gym and training room, you were surprised to find that you were not alone. Loki was there with Thor, sparring in a boxing ring, and Steve was running on a treadmill with Sam at his side, timing him. Bucky led you through the gym to an isolated corner away from all of the machines and noise. It was just a small corner with matted floors and a few rubber attack dummies in various stages of disrepair. 

You paused on the mats and watched Bucky wander over to a cabinet and pull out a pair of over-sized arm guards. He slid them onto his arms and turned to face you. “I want you to hit me as hard as you can,” he told you, blocking his face with the guards. “I want you to hit me like you would hit Harry Osborn.” 

You stared at him silently, your spine going rigid at the mention of Harry’s name. Your heart was stuttering in your chest and not out of anger but out of fear. Of course, you were angry at Harry Osborn – he had stolen your virginity from you in the most horrible of ways. He had sullied you. You were dirty because of him. But you knew that if you ever were to encounter Harry in a fight, he would win. He had already proven himself capable of overpowering you. 

“Hey, Y/N!” Bucky said, pulling you from your reverie. He walked over to you, pulling one of the padded guards off of his arm. Then he reached out and gently brushed away a stray tear that was streaming down your cheek, his thumb careful and calloused. Then he reached out to put his hand on your shoulder and you took an involuntary step back. He sighed. “No one in here is gonna hurt you, Y/N, and if they do – look, your friend Loki is right over there.” You looked over your shoulder and saw that Thor and Loki had paused in their sparring to observe your training session. When you turned back to Bucky, he was wearing both of the arm guards again. “Forget about Osborn, okay?” he said. “Just think about the person who you hate the most and pretend I’m them. Pretend I’m them and hit me.” 

You thought about all of the people you hated. All the people who had abandoned you over the years because you were too bookish or weird, but it all boiled down to two people: Your parents. Your father who would get drunk and come to stand in your doorway, stroking himself through the fabric of whatever he happened to be wearing when he thought you were asleep. And your mother for leaving you alone with him so shortly after you had just gotten her back, and for believing in the lies that the media printed about you. For showing up here at Avengers Tower to call you a slut and slap you in the middle of an interview. You hated both of them more than you could fathom. 

You let the anger build inside of you, your hands balling up into fists at your sides. Then you ran at Bucky, who threw his arms up just in time to block your punch. Then you punched him again and again and again, not even caring that your blows were making no impact on him – that he hadn’t even taken a single step backwards to try to stop or avoid you. 

Then Bucky reached out with his padded hands, and pressed them against your fists, lowering them to your sides. “Okay,” he said, nodding and beginning to pull off the arm guards. “That was good, but we need you to be better. So we’re going to start with basic self-defense, and work our way up from there.” He led you over to one of the battered attack dummies. 

He spent the rest of the morning teaching you how to throw a proper punch, and  the various techniques you could use to kill a man by breaking his nose. 


By the time you finished your training session with Bucky, it was six-thirty in the morning and when you went back up to your room, Peter was awake and looked like he had just stepped out of the shower. “Hey,” he said, running a towel through his wet curls. “Where were you – I woke up and you were gone.” 

“Training with Bucky,” you told him, crossing the room and pressing a kiss to his lips. 

“That explains the smell,” Peter teased, pulling a face at you. 

“Shut up,” you said, slapping his arm playfully. Then you stood and shifted your weight from one foot to the other. “Can we just, like, sit and talk for a minute?” 

Peter struggled to keep a frown off his face because those words rarely meant anything good. “Sure,” he said, sitting down on your bed. 

You sat down beside him with a sigh. “I think we might need to take a step backwards.” 

This time Peter frowned openly. “What do you mean?” 

You stared down at your fingernails. “I think it might be a good idea if you go back to sleeping in your own room on the weekends.” 

Peter looked like he had just been punched in the gut. “What?” he said. “Why?” 

“I’ve never really been in a relationship before,” you admitted. “Not a real one, anyway, but when Harry demanded that I start sleeping in his room at night, it seemed like a sign that he expected things to get serious between us –” 

“Y/N,” Peter said, cutting you off. “You know I would never do what he did to you ever. So if you’re gonna compare me to him –” 

“I’m not!” you assured him quickly. “It just feels like maybe you and I are at different stages in this relationship.” 

“What does that mean?” Peter asked. 

You shrugged. “It just seems like you might be a little more enthusiastic about the sexual aspect of our relationship, and I’m just…..Broken.”

Peter sighed, shaking his head. “That’s – that’s not it at all, Y/N. I mean, yeah, I would love to have sex with you, but I’ve been doing this stuff – the massage and everything – because I want to make you feel comfortable enough to enjoy sex one day. Not right now, obviously, but eventually.” He wetted his lips. “I’ve been going to this chatroom for rape and sexual assault survivors and their loved ones to get advice on how to help you, and they said you need to regain power over your sexuality.” 

You stared at him. “My sexuality?” you echoed. 

He nodded. “Yeah, but I figured since you were a virgin before you might not really know too much about that.” He looked up at you, his face burning bright red. “Unless – I mean, haven’t you ever, um, explored your body or experimented at all?” 

You looked away from him, blushing furiously. “Um, well, between taking care of my dad and school and just, you know, grief I didn’t really have a lot of time for any exploring or experimenting.” 

Peter smiled at how embarrassed you were. “So you don’t really know what you like?” When you silently shook to indicate that you had no idea what you liked, he asked, “Would you like to find out – on your own, I mean. I’m not offering to –”

“I’m not sure if I can,” you said, cutting him off. “I mean, I don’t really know how….” Your voice trailed off as you shifted uncomfortably. 

Peter cleared his throat noisily. “Well, we can always buy you something to help with that –” 

You shook your head. “Peter, your aunt would kill me if I brought you within ten feet of an adult toy store.” 

Peter couldn’t help but laugh at your response. “Y/N, we don’t have to go to an adult toy store. They sell them at the mall.” 

You stared at him as it suddenly dawned on you that even though you were older than him, Peter was clearly infinitely more experienced than you were. “They do?” you said simply. 

“Yeah,” Peter scoffed. “I’ve seen them in Target.” He reached out and took your hand in his own. “So is that something you would like to do – buy a toy and, um, get to know yourself?” 

You stared down at your fingers, interlaced with his. “Can I think about it?” 

“Of course,” Peter said. He reached out and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. “What brought all this on, by the way, if you don’t mind my asking?” 

“Oh,” you said, looking away from him guiltily. “I was talking to Bucky and he was trying to help me identify my PTSD triggers, so I told him about the massage. Then he started going on about how you’re trying to fix me with sex –” 

“Wait, he said that?” Peter said with raised eyebrows. You nodded. “And what did you say?” he asked. 

“I told him that it wasn’t true and that he shouldn’t make assumptions about people,” you told him. “But he just kept going on about how you couldn’t help it because you’re only seventeen and that I obviously wasn’t comfortable or ready for any of it.” 

Peter stared at you in disbelief. He didn’t want to believe that Bucky had said these things about him, but he had seen the way Bucky looked at you and had watched him flirt with you right in front of Peter. “Well, do you think you’re ready?” he asked you. 

You wetted your lips nervously. “I want to be ready for you –” 

“Y/N, no,” Peter said, turning to face you. He put his hands on your shoulders. “Never do something that you’re uncomfortable with to make me happy, okay – I’m supposed to be helping you heal. Not the other way around. Now, I want you to answer me truthfully, okay?” he added. “Are you really uncomfortable with me sleeping in here with you or are you just asking me to leave because of what Bucky said?” 

“I like you being in here with me at night and getting to cuddle you all night long,” you admitted, biting your lip. 

Peter sighed, feeling both annoyed and relieved. “And did that massage make you uncomfortable?” 

“Not uncomfortable,” you said, avoiding his gaze. “Just nervous.” 

“And that’s okay,” Peter told you. “You just need to remember that I would never, ever force you to do something you’re not comfortable with, okay? I….” And he had to bite his lip to keep himself from saying the words “I love you” because he didn’t want them to be just words with you, and he wanted it to be special the first time he said it to you. 

“Peter, I’m so sorry,” you said, staring up at him guiltily. “I should have never listened to –” 

Peter cut you off. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s normal have to doubts, but next time Bucky says something like that just ignore him. Just because he’s older than us, that doesn’t mean he knows everything.” You nodded as he pulled his phone out to check the time. “Shit, I’m late for school.” He looked down at you sympathetically. “I’ve gotta go, okay, but I’ll be back later this week to visit you.” 

Once again, you merely nodded and when Peter leaned down to kiss you, he bit your lower lip because you had been silly enough to listen to Bucky and snaked his way into your mouth. And there was more – so much more – that he wanted to do with you, but he was late for school and there was no way he was gonna let this thing with Bucky slide. He pulled away, breaking the kiss, and pecked you once more on the lips before he stood up, grabbing his bag off the floor and turned to go. He paused in the doorway and waved at you, smiling sadly. 


Everyone in the kitchen looked up as Peter stormed across the living room of the common area. He walked around the breakfast bar and straight into the kitchen to where Bucky stood, fixing himself yet another cup of coffee. Peter reached out, grabbed him by the shoulder, and spun him around to face him. For a split second Bucky looked confused, but once he realized who was standing in front of him his mouth settled into a stern frown. 

“You had no right saying what you said to Y/N,” Peter said, jabbing the super soldier sharply in the chest. “I am more than just some horny teenager, who is incapable of controlling himself and I am not trying to fix her with sex. All I have ever done is tried to help her get to a place where she can actually trust me and feel comfortable enough to actually see what it feels like to be loved properly by someone who cares about her. Because I’m trying to show her that sex and sensuality can be a good thing that doesn’t have to traumatize her every time someone tries to be close to her. And you don’t get to decide, Bucky, what Y/N is comfortable with – that’s up to her. You’re not her father or her boyfriend – that’s my job, so if I do something to make her uncomfortable then I will discuss it with her like an adult and take responsibility for it.” 

Peter spun on his heel, his backpack slamming into Bucky as he left. The others watched him silently, too stunned to speak, as he made his way to the elevator and furiously jabbed at the down button. Once Peter was inside the elevator and out of earshot, Tony and Steve both turned to face Bucky. 

“Bucky,” Steve sighed. “Please, tell me you didn’t actually say any of that to Y/N.” 

Bucky raised his hands in surrender and grabbed his coffee off the counter with a shrug. 

“Unbelievable,” Tony said, throwing his hands up in frustration. “You are unfreakingbelievable. What gives you the right to interfere in those kids’ relationship?” 

Bucky shook his head with a wry smile. “Y/N came to me for advice about her PTSD. I was trying to help.” 

“Help?” Tony echoed. “Help how? By making Peter out to be some kind of – of irresponsible –” 

“Fuck boy, I believe is the word you are looking for,” Wanda said, finishing the sentence and taking a sip of her tea. 

“All I said was that maybe he had put her in a situation that triggered her,” Bucky continued trying to defend herself. 

“And that he was trying to fix her with sex,” Steve said with one arched brow. “You know I can tell when you’re lying, Buck.” 

“Okay, maybe I said that, too,” Bucky relinquished. He pushed past Tony and Steve as he walked around the breakfast bar, and sat down on one of the bar stools. “Personally, I don’t think Y/N is in a good enough place to be in a relationship,” he added. “She’s clearly traumatized, and Peter is a good kid, but I’m not sure he can give her the help that she really needs.” 

“It is not your place to say whether or not Y/N gets to be in a relationship,” Tony told him firmly. “Her and Peter like each other, and they make each other happy. That’s all that matters. Maybe the timing sucks, but that’s why they’re both in therapy together to work through these issues –” 

“Well, maybe they should be discussing how Peter is pressuring Y/N into sexual situations,” Bucky cut him off. “Or the way that she idolizes him so much and is so timid, she’ll do anything he says just for the sake of pleasing him.” 

There was a moment of silence while everyone took this in. Then Natasha said, “He said all he was trying to do is establish a bond with her, so she can see that sex can be a good thing.” 

Bucky turned to her. “They’ve been together for what, a month – a month and a half. He sleeps in her room, uses her shower – they’re basically living together. I’ve known adult couples who have been together for years and they still don’t live together. It’s a not healthy timeline – not for someone who was just raped and is still recovering from it. And Peter clearly doesn’t realize that, and have any of you thought about what’s going happen to Y/N when he goes off to college – he applied to MIT, right? That’s his dream and yours, too, right, Stark? Do you have any idea how crushed that girl is gonna be once he leaves, and maybe they’ll give the long distance thing a try, but we all know how that works out. Y/N is codependent on him. It’s not gonna be pretty – what?” His voice trailed off as Steve began making frantic gestures in the kitchen, trying silently to tell his friend to shut the hell up. 

Bucky spun around in his seat to see you standing just outside the elevator doors staring at the group of gathered Avengers, gaping at them uselessly. Bucky rose from his seat and took a single step towards you, but you had already spun around and were jabbing sharply at the call button for the elevator. Then you stepped inside of it and watched the doors close while he was half-way across the common area. 


You knew they would expect to be in either your room or Loki’s, so instead you went to the only other place where you found solace in the tower: The library. You wandered through the stacks that engulfed the huge circular room until you found yourself surrounded by books on nuclear ion fusion. It would have been one of Peter’s favorite places in the library, but you would never be able to make sense of the words in these books. 

You sank down to the floor with your back against the wall and waited. You knew it was only a matter of time until they found you, thanks to Friday. You pulled your phone out to check the time – it was just past seven-thirty. Angela Quinn’s office wouldn’t be open for another hour. You still had to tell her you wanted to take the case to trial. Because Peter had said you should. 

Because he said it was your responsibility. 

Was Bucky right – would you really do anything to please Peter? Were you that incapable of thinking for yourself? And what was the other word he had used – codependent? You pulled out your phone and Googled it. It was a mental disorder of some sort where the sufferer latched on to another person in order to survive almost as if they were incapable of living on their own. 

You thought back to how you had depended on Becca while you were at NYU, then how you threw yourself at Harry in order to forget about Peter, and now that you were with Peter, you relied on him for everything. Was that codependency – had your brain been broken even before the rape and the PTSD? 


You looked up to see Loki towering over you, and you had to stop yourself from hugging him. He sat down on the floor beside you, his back against the bookshelf. He smiled at you sadly and asked, “Which part of it upset you?” 

That’s right because there had been more. This didn’t revolve around you – Peter had applied to MIT. In Massachusetts and it was his dream to go there. And he had never told you. Never even mentioned it. He told you he applied to NYU, so you’d assumed he would being going there. But, of course, he must have applied to other schools as well. And he had never told you. 

You pulled your knees into your chest, resting your chin on top of them. “All of it,” you said simply. 

Loki reached out and grabbed you by the wrist, his skin cool against yours. “Y/N,” he said, his accent making your name sound prettier than it actually was. “Barnes is your mentor – he cares for you. He is worried for you. He wouldn’t have said those things if he wasn’t.” 

You locked eyes with the prince. “You care about me,” you reminded him. “And you don’t say those kinds of things about my relationship with Peter.” 

“No, but I perhaps I should have,” Loki countered. “If I truly cared for your happiness, that is. Barnes was merely pointing out all of the things we have overlooked – things that we all thought you were not prepared to know.” 

“Because I’m a victim, right?” you spat the word at him venomously. You rose to your feet and started to work your way through the labyrinthine library. 

Loki followed you. “Not only that but because you love Parker and he is healing you. We thought that if you were to know, it would only cause more damage to your psyche and to your heart.” 

You were silent as you made your way out of the library and towards the elevator. 

Loki reached out and caught you by the wrist. “Has Parker been pressuring you?” he demanded, his tone shifting from sympathetic to serious. 

You paused in the middle of the corridor, your thoughts going back to how he had encouraged you to “explore your body” with toys just earlier this morning. How did you know that all that talk about regaining your sexuality wasn’t complete bullshit, and even if it wasn’t, were you even ready and capable of what he was asking of you? What if all it did was cause another anxiety attack? 

You yanked your arm free of Loki’s grip. “He’s just trying to help.” 

Then suddenly Loki was standing right in front of you, staring down at you. “I am the God of Lies, Y/N.” 

You sighed, shifting your weight. “He thinks he’s trying to help,” you amended.  You pushed past him towards the elevator, and jabbed at the call button. When doors opened, you stepped inside and pushed the button for your floor. 

“What exactly has he been asking you to do?” Loki asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“That’s personal, Loki,” you told him sternly. 

“So he has been pressuring you,” Loki said, his eyes flashing dangerously. 

You scowled at him as the elevator reached your floor. You paused when you saw who was sitting outside your door. It was Bucky. He jumped to his feet as you started towards him. “Y/N,” he said, blocking the entrance to your room. 

You tried not to be intimidated by his sheer size and the gleaming metal appendage that was capable of punching through sheer concrete. However, you couldn’t help but freeze half a foot away from him involuntarily. 

“Y/N,” Bucky echoed, taking a step towards you and when you tried to retreat you became aware of Loki’s hand on your shoulder, locking you in place. “If I had known you were there –” 

You cut Bucky off with a snarl. “You would have never said it – just like you never would have said that crap you said before our training this morning?” 

Bucky frowned down at you, his curtain of dark hair falling over his blue eyes. “No, I would have said it to your face,” he told you. “Peter is a good kid, but he’s asking too much of you and you aren’t ready for a relationship of this caliber. You need time to heal and to stand on your own. When someone gets traumatized, they don’t just dive headfirst back into the thing that caused the trauma – they heal first. Then they dive back in.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you said, pushing past him to get to the door of your room. “And you should keep in mind that you’re my instructor – not my friend. I don’t need you giving me unsolicited advice and I definitely don’t have to follow it.”  

Bucky reached out slamming your door shut as you tried to pull it open. “We’re not friends yet, doll, but we will be.” Then he turned and sauntered down the hall. 

Loki shot you a knowing look over his shoulder before he turned and followed after the soldier. 

You ducked inside your room and hugged your phone to your chest as you collapsed on your bed. You stared down at the date on the screen. It was December tenth – early acceptance letters had been sent out by now, and if anyone was sure to get one, it was Peter. 


You spent the rest of the day inside your room, pretending to be normal while you responded to Peter and Ned’s and Becca’s text messages. Pretending not to question the very foundation of your relationship with Peter. Pretending not to wonder if Bucky was right. 

You didn’t mention MIT. You didn’t ask Peter why he had never mentioned it to you. You didn’t ask him whether or not he would actually be going. It was his dream, Bucky had said, and Tony’s dream for Peter. And Peter worshiped the ground Tony walked on. 

Of course he would be going. 

You eventually got ahold of your lawyer, Angela Quinn, and told her you wanted to take the case to trial. Yes, you knew that meant you would have to testify. Yes, you could count on your friends to testify for you. Yes, you were strong enough for this. 

You had to be. 


The next day you met up with Bucky for training at five AM. He started off easy with stretches. Then he worked with you to perfect your punch on the dummy before moving on and showing you how to do a proper high kick. He said it would take time before you were able to reach far enough with your legs to do any real damage. Then went on to show you how to do an upper-cut and how to use your elbows and knees to incapacitate someone. 

You didn’t speak a single word to him all morning. 

After you finished training, you retreated back to your bedroom to take a quick shower before you went back down to the common area. When you got to the kitchen you froze when you noticed a tall, ginger-haired woman and a tiny dark-haired child around four or five. They were Tony’s family, you realized. 

You had known that they lived here in the tower. In the penthouse – you shuddered as memories of Harry’s penthouse suddenly washed over you. But you had never actually met either of them. 

The ginger woman looked up at you, smiling warmly, and somewhere in the back your mind you registered that she was Pepper Potts-Stark – the CEO of Stark Industries. “Hello,” she said, offering you her hand. “I’m Pepper. You must be Y/N. This is Morgan.” She gestured to her daughter, who bore a striking resemblance to Tony. 

“Oh, um, hi,” you said awkwardly, shaking her hand. “It’s so nice to finally meet the both of you.” 

“And you as well,” Pepper smiled at you. “I’m so sorry you couldn’t be here under better circumstances –” 

At that exact moment, Tony entered the kitchen closely followed by Bucky and Steve. “Ah, I see you’ve met already,” Tony said, gesturing to the three of you. 

“You’re pretty,” Morgan cooed up at you. 

“Thank you?” you smiled down at her uncertainly. You took a seat at the breakfast bar. “And, yes, we have, but Tony, I need to talk to you about some things.” 

He raised his eyebrows at you. “Such as?” 

“Well, first of all,” you said, “the September Foundation Grant –” 

“Oh, actually,” Pepper said, cutting you off. “It was my idea to offer you the grant.” 

You stared at her, blinking confusedly. “Your idea?” you echoed. 

Pepper nodded as Bucky took a seat dangerously close to you with a steaming mug of coffee. “Yes, that’s right. When I heard you wanted to be a SHIELD agent, I knew it was a brilliant idea with your background in journalism. Being a journalist means you already know how to get information out of people – you’d be perfect at espionage, and this way you wouldn’t need to worry about a scholarship.” 

“Oh, I-I see,” you stuttered at her, and you suddenly felt like you had no choice but to accept the grant. “Th-thank you.” 

Tony had taken his daughter up in his arms and was dangling her upside from her ankles playfully when he turned back to you, grinning. “Anything else?” 

“Yeah,” you said, frowning. “I need to know – what’s gonna happen to me if things don’t work out with me and Peter?” 

You noticed Bucky’s head snap up in your direction as the room suddenly fell silent. 

Tony set Morgan down gently on the tiled floor, exchanging scowls with Steve who was glaring at his best friend. “Why, uh, why wouldn’t things work out?” Tony asked you. 

“Early acceptance letters have been sent out,” you told him. “If Peter gets into MIT, I don’t wanna be the thing that prevents him from going.” 

“That’s very mature of you, Y/N,” Pepper said after a moment of silence. 

“Thank you,” you said before turning back to Tony. “So would I still be allowed to live here or do I need to start looking at apartments again?” 

Tony crossed the galley kitchen and leaned forward on the breakfast bar, pressing his palms against the cool marble surface. “Y/N.” he sighed. “We told you that you were welcome to stay here for as long as you wanted to and we meant it. I’m not gonna go back on my word just because you and Peter didn’t work out – if you don’t work out, which will suck. But the kid’s resilient and he’ll move on. Eventually.” 

You smiled up at him. “Thanks, Tony.” 


Three days later, in the middle of you forcing Loki to sit through The Fault In Our Stars after having forced him to read the book, you got a text message from Peter. Actually, it was a group message sent out to you, Tony, and Ned. 

Peter: Letters are here. NOW. Get over here fast. 

You looked up as the doors of the elevator opened and Tony beckoned you over to him. You jumped to your feet, grabbing your coat off the couch and followed him wordlessly certain that he already had a car waiting. 

When you got to Peter’s house and everyone crowded into the kitchen with Peter and May, all you could do was stare down at the envelopes that littered the table. There were three of them – one from NYU, one from Columbia, and one from MIT. 

You held your breath and waited as he grabbed the first envelope. 


@paullrud // @watson-emma // @anxietyriddledcollegekid // @eridanuswave // @averyfosterthoughts // @cosmicmndes // @animegirlgeeky // @fearlessprncss

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Reality (P.P)

Pairing: Peter Parker X Female, Romanoff reader

Warnings: Mysterio, Mysterio, sad Peter, Peter getting hit by a train, Mysterio mentally abusing reader, just Mysterio

Type: angst??

A/N: It’s been months ya’ll I’m so sorry. This was supposed to be a prologue to Fake, but I got carried away. First post of 2020!

WC: 2,000<

Summary: Mysterio knows what he wants, but so do you and Peter.

Tagged: @theolwebshooter @thegirlwiththeimpala

If you want to be tagged see here

Marvel Masterlist

Peter Parker Masterlist


Originally posted by hollands-roses

The Europe trip was supposed to be fun and relaxing, but instead, it was chaotic and quite terrifying. Your little trip to Paris ended up being a trip to Prague during the festival of lights, in which Peter was on a classified mission (that ended up being fake) to stop a fire monster. Of course, when your boyfriend sneaks out of the opera hours you were going to follow him. And not because you were scared for him, quite the opposite. You knew Peter was doing Superhero stuff and you wanted in. You had been off duty while grieving for your mom, but now it was time to jump back into battle. Something to at least distract you from the pain of loss. Quietly you followed Peter, your footsteps fell silently as snow.

“Peter,” You whisper when he reaches the festival.

“(Y/N)! Wh- what are you doing? You should’ve stayed in the opera house where it’s safe.”

“What’s going on?”


You cross your arms and give Peter the stare, the one your mother taught you. She always said it drove the boys (and girls) mad, "Peter.”

He sighs, muttering something into his earpiece. “Do you remember the water monster in Venice?”

“Yeah…” You raise your eyebrows in speculation, was this attack related to that one? As if Peter read your mind he opened his mouth and said, “They’re expecting another one here, the worse of all, fire. And I’m on duty to try and stop it.”

“Count me in.” Peter scratches the back of his neck, “Babe…” Someone says something into his earpiece and he hands it to you.

“Agent Romanoff, glad to see you back.”

“Director Fury, good to be back.”

He laughs in the back, “let’s get this show on the road then.”

+ + +

“Night Monkey, huh?” You tease Peter.

He blushes, “Ned came up with it not me!”

You grab Peter’s hand in yours, smiling up at him.

“Ew physical affection,” Beck jokes, his glass of alcohol in his hand.

You stick your tongue out at him, sipping from you and Peter’s orange juice.

“You guys love each other don’t you?” He questions.

Peter squeezes your hand, “yeah we do.”

Beck smiles from the rim of his glass, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. You figured it was because it reminded him of his love. The one he couldn’t save. His family.

“I was devastated when my mom died,” You said in hopes of relating to Beck. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye, one minute she was telling me how proud she was of me and that she loved Peter. The next, I was plunged into battle looking for her. As I was fighting I brushed it off and figured she was here and that between everyone I would never find her.” You swirl the orange juice in the glass, staring down at it. The memories still too vivid. Your eyes began to water, “When Tony died, I thought for sure I would find her there. She would mourn for him, but when I got there she wasn’t. I ran to Tony and he just-” the tears slowly rolled down your cheeks as you flashback to that moment.

“Mom!” You shouted desperately. “Mom?” Throughout the whole battle, you hadn’t found her, of course with all the heroes that thought was next to impossible. She could’ve changed her costume too, five years. You didn’t know what she looked like. Chaos swirled around you like fog in the morning. Then, there was silence. You turned around to see Uncle Tony on the ground. Everyone was gathering around, kneeling by his side. Your mother would be there for sure. However, when you got there with Peter, Tony only had a few minutes left. You stood behind Peter as he broke down. A hand was placed on your shoulder, you spun around so fast thinking it was your mom. Instead, you came face to face with your godfather, the same look as everyone else.

“Hey, sunshine,” Clint said.

"where is she?“


"Where is she, Clint?! She’s my mother!” The look on his face says it all as you collapse into his arms sobbing.

Clint holds you to his chest as you cry. “She sacrificed herself for us,” He said quietly. “I fought her till the end, but your mother beat me to it. She was always the better one of us.“

Clint pulls out a letter from his suit, "open it when you’re ready.”

When MJ figured out that Peter was spiderman, she also learned that Mysterio was no mystery, but a liar. You and Peter instantly freaked out, you both had agreed on giving Beck one of the most advanced pieces of technology ever, lord knows what he was planning on doing.

“We have to tell Fury,” Peter said, zipping up his suit.

“No shit,” You reply, snapping on your mother’s wrist cuffs.

“MJ, Ned, you can’t tell anyone this,” Peter warned, halfway out the window.

“You both are already in danger being involved with both of us, so please stay low.”

They both nod as they watch Peter grab you in his arms and swing-out the window, you wave at them over Peter’s shoulder. As soon as you arrived in Berlin, Fury picked you up and drove you to the headquarters. Both of you were frantically explaining what Beck had done and that there was little time left before he advanced. Just as Fury started putting together a plan, the room begins to disintegrate.

“Mysterio,” You whisper, looking around for him. Out of nowhere, Peter tackles you to the ground as a drone fires at you, it hits Fury in the chest and you scream. Peter stands up, checking for him when the drone shoots him and he goes falling.


Your reality begins to shatter as Mysterio’s drones build an illusion.

"You know, neither of you had to die,” Beck’s voice sounds. “really, if Peter kept his mouth shut I wouldn’t have had to kill him. And if hadn’t introduced you, the love of his life. Daughter of the famous Black Widow, you’d still be on your trip to London.”


He laughs, "it didn’t have to be this way.”

The room faults and you’re suddenly back at Stark Tower in the training rooms. The smell of sweat clouding your senses.

“Your mom never escaped the Russians did she?”

The room is suddenly swamped with bright red blood, like your mom’s hair and the nefarious red room she was trained in. The blood flows in, knocking you off your feet with the force. You shriek as you fall back into it, your skin becoming that of a tomato. You try to stand, but keep slipping. More and more rushes in, until you’re drowning in it with no clear direction of up.


Peter would recognize that voice anywhere, "where is she?!”

Mysterio laughs, projecting the image of you drowning in blood.

Peter bangs on the glass until it shatters, breaking reality as the shards rain down on him, but not one speckle of blood. He’s suddenly facing himself.

You’re yanked from the liquid by a forceful hand, tugging at your hair and thrusting you onto the hard concrete, as you’re thrown down a sound like shattered glass resounds through the room and you continue to fall. You land in the snow, bright red snow now. You scramble out of it, slipping as it melts. You begin to sink, there’s nothing to grab onto. When suddenly a hand appears, the same gloved hand of your boyfriend, Peter. It’s just out of your reach when you finally get the strength to grab it, he pulls you up. The room changed again on your on one of Tony’s jets. Peter looks at you and pushes you off the jet.

Your cries fall silent as the wind drowns them out. You land in front of a mirror, your hair is the color of your moms, your black suit stained red, lips dipped in blood.

“You were so beautiful,” Your mother coos from behind you. “but your beauty will fade.”


Natasha draws out a knife, her finger dances dangerously on the edge. The fantasy ends when an arrow whisks past your ear, straight into the mirror where your heart is. Except, it’s not you anymore. It’s Peter, blood soaking through his suit. He falls to his knees as blood pours out of his mouth, you scream looking for him. The room is pitch black, the mirror only showing Peter.

“Stop it!! Stop it!!” You shout, banging on the mirror, a hand grabs you and pulls you through, it’s Peter’s.

“If you were brave enough, we would all still be here.”

“that’s not true.”

Peter fades away and Natasha appears grabbing your chin tightly, “you know it is.”

The ground opens up and she falls through, you dive after her and slam down on the concrete. Dazed, you stare blankly at the sky waiting for another trick. There’s a loud bang beside you, and you see Peter roll of a car.


“(Y/N)?” He starts running toward your broken form, just as he’s about to get there the drones come back and his sense of direction is lost, but to you, he runs up and picks you up in his arms. Peter sets you down, an arm around you. And yet, you didn’t feel safe. You squirm against him and he holds you tighter.

“Let go of me, Beck.”

“The show’s just opening.”

The real Peter runs into the room, “It’s just an illusion.”

“It is Peter?”


“You don’t know the difference, do you?” Beck’s hold on you become tighter, you let out a gasp.

“Stop it,” Peter warns, aiming a gloved hand at him.

Beck just laughs, you take the opportunity and kick the back of his knees, he doubles over and you use the chance to throw him over your shoulder.

“(Y/N)? It is you!” Peter cries, running to you.

“I control reality.”


As if on cue, the world shifts one more time and you’re back in your room. Sunlight filtering through the windows, your bed nicely made. A few stuffed animals sitting on it. You’re home. Something bangs in your desk drawer, curious you walk toward the source. The banging gets louder until the desk is shaking, you open the drawer and a letter flings out. The envelope is black with a red seal, where it now has small teeth. The letter grows in size, filling up the whole room as you cower in the far corner.

That damn letter. Your bedroom becomes encased in black gloom, the ground under your feet begins to tremble. You look down as small words start to appear, first your name at the top. It’s the letter your mom wrote to you. Panic sweeps through your veins and you begin to run, words ripple under your feet as you try to escape the inevitable. The paper begins to curl, now chasing you like a wave, every five seconds you turn around, only to see it get closer. The page chases you until the end, where you stumble and stare into the dark. A cloud of green forms at your feet when Mysterio appears.

“Please, stop,” You plead, you’re covered in blood, exhausted and scared for your life.

He laughs a hollow sound. Eyes glittering with hatred. He begins to walk toward you when shots are fired and he falls to his knees. Fury is limping behind him, you run up to him and he tosses his arm over your shoulder.

“Director, are you okay? Where’s Peter?”

Fury laughs, “I’m great.” His voice morphs into that of Becks. “Peter, not so much.”

Peter stumbles in front of you, slumping to his knees. Much like you if Beck didn’t possess such a strong grip. Beck begins to recite a monologue as Peter backs up slowly.

“Your girlfriend here, she didn’t have to die either. It pains me to have to do this.” Beck releases his grip as you fall to the ground, legs throbbing with pain and exhaustion.

“(Y/N)… Beck please, don’t, not to her.”

“Oh, you won’t have to see it.”

Peter’s pained expression changes to confusion and at that moment, the illusion drops and a train comes hurtling to Peter. You don’t even get to scream before he’s gone.

Beck turns to look at you, “you’re coming with me.”

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Via Instagram

tomholland2013 It’s good in life to set goals and have milestones.  A big one for me was being in a Pixar movie and I can’t quite believe that this came true. Thank you @disney for yet again making me the luckiest kid going. Onward is a film about family and brotherhood  and that’s exactly how you should watch it. Grab the fam and take them to see onward… you’ll love it. And finally, Mr @prattprattpratt is soooo funny in this film - I’m so glad we got to work together again buddy 🙌🏻

February 21, 2020

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part 6mj

♡–be my valentine–♡

(peter parker x reader!, sum mj x reader)

a/n: sum drama …. i luv drama…. i wonder who this mysterious unknown is… who could it be?…

tags for bmv: @songofcosplay -

@juliebean247 - @martinafigoli

ultimate masterlist. bmv masterlist. previous. next.

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