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ficthots · 2 years

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Destined for Greatness

A/N: Hi everyone! I hope you all enjoy the new area I’m dabbling in. This is the longest fic I have ever written and I am so in love with it. As always let me know what you guys think & enjoy!

Word Count: 16k+

Warnings: Smut, 18+ content, DNI if you are under 18!

A lot of things in your life were accidents, including yourself. When you were six and learning to ride a bike and crashed head first into your neighbors mailbox, that was an accident. When you were fourteen and forgot to scan your mascara at the self checkout at Walmart, that was an accident. When you were seventeen and turned in your best friend's homework instead of your own, that was an accident. The biggest accident of all was you, though.

Your mom accidentally found herself pregnant with you when she was only seventeen. She was in no shape to have a child and immediately shunned you when you were born. To say you had little to no relationship with her was an understatement. She was a wanderer and would go without contact for years at a time, randomly popping up to send you a text asking if you had fifty dollars to send her. You didn’t hate her anymore, as you grew up you understood that she was just a child when she had you, in no place to raise a baby and you couldn’t hold that against her anymore. Especially when you realized who you did have in your life, particularly grandma Elise.

Your grandmother stepped up to the parenting plate instead, taking you and raising you as her own. She had been single most of her life, losing her husband when your mom was only twelve and raised you on her own. You would do anything for her. She was your anchor and your everything. The only family you had. Except for the family next door.

Grandma Elise was a New York transplant, moving into the city when she was in her twenties to chase a life she wasn’t sure of. She stumbled into a friendship with May after she began working at a local diner to pay for her next meal, quickly moving in together and becoming attached at the hip thereafter. When Elise brought you home to the small two bedroom townhouse, May was there to help.

Your little life with your grandma and neighbors was wonderful. Little six year old you knew no different after all, but when a little boy, who was just a hair shorter than you, was sitting on May’s porch steps that fall afternoon, you didn’t realize just how much your life would change. You battled within yourself if you should go talk to him when your grandmother came up next to you, crouching down at the window to see what you were looking at. She nudged you, sending you a wink as she encouraged you to go introduce yourself. Still hesitant about the decision, you took in a deep breath as you opened your front door and set your sights on the house next door.

You made your way across the yards and smiled at the young boy, offering a small wave, trying to keep a distance of a few feet between the two of you. He looked at you through his glasses, eyes squinting to see you in the sun, hand smushed to his chin, holding a stick with his other hand.

“Do you know May and Ben?” You finally worked up the courage to ask. He nodded his head, eyes falling back down to the stick in his grasp. “They’re my aunt and uncle. Do you live next door?” You mimicked his movement, nodding your head and letting your eyes fall to your sandals.

Standing in silence, slowly bouncing between leaning on either of your legs, you finally offered your name, asking him if he wanted to ride bikes. He sighed and looked back up at you. “I don’t have a bike. I have a skateboard though,” he pushed his thumb to the side, pointing at a small piece of wood on four wheels.

You smiled and walked up to him, moving the board back and forth, “I’ve never ridden one before. Is it hard?” He watched you carefully, before he dropped the stick and picked up the board, walking to the sidewalk a few steps away.

He shrugged, getting on and pushing with ease as your jaw fell slack at how easy he moved. He went around the street easily before coming back in front of you, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You wanna try?” You nodded eagerly as you carefully got on the board, one hand holding onto the mailbox in front of you.

He tried to show you how to balance yourself, stumbling over his words as he attempted to teach you how to properly ride his skateboard. In a split second, the board shot out from under your feet and you fell flat on your butt. You stared at each other in shock before laughing together.

The boy ran to grab his board as it rolled into the street, you stood back up and watched as the boy approached, taking him in. His brown hair was neatly combed and styled, his part to the right, his black rimmed glasses sat high on his nose, he wore a striped t-shirt with black shorts and worn out converse with no socks.

When he stood in front of you again he offered another smile. “I’m Peter. You wanna try again? I won’t let you fall this time, deal?” You peered at his outstretched hand in front of you, taking it in yours with a firm shake as you let a smile form on your face again. You two didn’t even notice that your grandma and his aunt were standing between the two yards, smiles adorning their features as they watched you two quickly bond.

Peter did not hold out to his deal, by the end of the day your knees were badly scraped and your elbows ached, but you had never had so much fun. Neither of you wanted to go inside that night as the street lights turned on, your grandma calling you inside for dinner. Peter cocked his head as he saw the older woman in the doorway. “Do you live with your grandma?” You turned and looked to see her back to you two, heading back inside. Nodding your head in response as you turned to look at him again, hands clasped tightly together behind your back you quickly spoke. “My mom left when I was born and I don’t know my dad. I’ve lived here my whole life,” he smiled softly at you when May called out to him from the front window.

“I have to go, Aunt May made meatloaf. It’s really good you should try it,” you giggled at him as you waved bye, saying you would see him tomorrow. The next morning you waited out front for Peter and you two walked to school together, forming a habit that would happen everyday until graduation. When you arrived at school you showed him your desk and forced one of your classmates out of their desk next to yours so Peter could sit next to you.

That was just the start of the friendship that you two would have. You had never connected with someone quicker than Peter. He was like your other half, your confidant, your partner in crime. When one of you appeared everyone knew the other was only half a second behind. It was how you two functioned. You knew Peter was destined for greatness, it was just the type of personality he had, you just didn’t know how it would come to him.

Peter was honestly the smartest person you had ever met and as he excelled in every subject known to man, you floundered in math and science. He tutored you almost every night, screaming matches ensuing as he grew frustrated because you just couldn’t get chemistry. After you two had finished another argument you noticed how close he was to you. “Parker, I swear to God if you don’t get out of my face in the next ten seconds, I’m gonna drop your ass so fast you won’t even see it coming,” he leaned forward, practically nose to nose with you. “I’d love to see you try, sweetheart,” the pet name that he only used when he was trying to taunt you slipped from his lips, setting your skin on fire with anger.

Your hand clamped onto the back of his neck as you flew out of your desk chair, you both hit your bedroom floor with a thump as you two fought for dominance. When he began to pin your left hand to the floor, you used your right to pinch him on his side. A loud hiss escaped his mouth as he faltered, letting you go.

The bedroom door flew open and your grandma stood there with her arms crossed as she saw you laying on top of Peter, hurling curse words at one another. “Are you kidding me? Knock it off you two! You're making the whole damn house shake,” you both stopped, out of breath at the small exertion and sat opposite each other. Your back was leaning against your bed, his straight against the wall, legs outstretched against one another.

When you both calmed down he held his hand out to you, your hand wrapped around his as you both stood with each other, taking your respective spots at your desk. The heels of your hands pushed into your eyes, rubbing hard as you sighed. “I just can’t get this Peter, my brain doesn’t function like yours. I’m gonna fail chem, it’s fine,” he shook his head, hand coming to the back of your head and forcing you to look at the homework and lab sheets laid out in front of you.

“No, it’s my personal mission to have you pass, okay? You’re gonna get this, I promise,” you rolled your eyes, knowing Peter’s promises were a 50/50 shot at coming through or not. This was a time that the 50/50 odds leaned in your favor, allowing you to pass your class and move forward to senior year.

You two had big plans for senior year, applying for colleges, internships, all the works. A few things happened that were not in the plans, one being Ben dying. It had rattled you all, Peter couldn’t sleep at his home for weeks, opting for your floor or bed instead. You helped May around her house as often as you could, your grandma practically moved in with her to make sure she would continue to function. Your attention went to Peter, trying to help him with the grief that overpowered him at times in ways you just didn’t understand. He acted like he had killed him, not some low life mugger, but he wouldn’t listen to that. It was around the same time Peter started going through changes that were not in the plans for senior year either.

You noticed he had been acting weird, his reflexes were on another level for example. The previous week you had knocked over a soda off his desk and he caught it so quickly that nothing spilled out of it. It was falling, turning upside down. You two stared at each other, before he awkwardly cleared his throat, moving on like nothing had happened.

He was constantly warm, like he was his own personal heater. On your way home from school, in the middle of winter, you stood on his board as he lightly held your hand, dragging you along because you never did learn how to ride it, and the wind was whipping against your face. Your eyes watered, you felt like ice, but Peter was warmer than ever.

His strength was out of control, but you knew Peter did not work out. His shirts fit tighter than normal, at times straining against his arms. His veins in his hands and forearms were more prominent. Should you have been looking at him wondering what those veins would look like, flexed, as he used them for some extracurricular activities? Probably not, but shoot you. You’re only human!

Peter bumped into you one night, trying to maneuver around you in the kitchen and when his shoulder collided with your chest, you clutched at the spot, wind knocking out of you. “What the fuck, Peter?” His eyes were wide as he set the plates down on the counter behind him as he started quickly uttering apologies. His large hand went over the contact spot, rubbing hard on your sternum, shaking you. “You’re good, champ. Shake it off,” you scoffed at him as he went back to what he was doing.

You were starting to worry when he was coming to school with insane bruises all over him. His face, neck, hands, every part you could see. He refused to tell you what was going on, offering lame lies instead that he must’ve known you didn’t believe. How many times can you fall in the shower? He stopped responding to texts between ten pm and four am, when he had never missed texts from you before, middle of the night be damned. You were fed up and decided to take matters into your own hands.

Finding the ladder at the back of his house, you pushed it up against the side of the house, starting your ascent to his window. You knew about his bedroom locks, he had even installed them on your bedroom door. When you reached his window you pushed up, climbing inside and trying to dodge the small bookshelf and not step on something disgusting that covered the entire floor of his room.

Empty. You muttered under your breath as you checked your phone. 1:42 am and he was nowhere to be found. As you started looking around you saw a sewing machine sitting in his closet, making your eyebrows furrow. Since when did he sew? His camera and backpack were gone. Your eyes drifted over the small cork board above his desk. Your eyes scanned the million pictures of you and him, candid shots of you, pictures of Aunt May and your grandma, you smiled.

What was most definitely not in the plans for senior year was Peter becoming a superhero and instant celebrity for New York. You hear him fall through the window behind you and as you turn, arms crossed over your chest ready to give him the third degree, your jaw fell open at the sight before you. Your best friend stood there, head to toe in spandex, hands raised in front of you.

“Okay, let me explain,” your hand clamped over your mouth as he pulled the mask off, revealing it was not in fact a one piece suit like you originally presumed. His hair was a complete mess, sticking up in a million different directions, which was turning into his daily look more often than not. Now you know why.

He had a large cut on his cheek, his eyes were wide, trying to gauge your reaction. There was an awkward silence between you two as your eyes scoured over him multiple times when you knew you needed to say something.

“Do you do cosplay now?” was all you muttered out behind your hand, trying to think of a reasonable explanation for this because Peter was most definitely not Spider-Man. He was the least coordinated person you knew and from the videos you had seen of the vigilante it could not have been your best-friend of nearly thirteen years. The man couldn’t go a day without tripping over something and swinging from buildings without colliding into them, it was just in no way possible. Yet as you stared at him and weighed the odds, the truth settled over you.

His hands dropped to his side, his head falling forward as his eyes shut, a laugh falling from his mouth. “Yes, I do cosplay now. I go out in the middle of the night and take pictures of myself to post on a super cool blog I have,” you couldn’t fight that smile that was breaking through your faux steely demeanor. You two started laughing and before you knew it you were hunched over, out of breath, tears streaming down your cheeks as Peter was on his knees, hands braced in front of him on the floor, trying to catch his breath.

When you two calmed down you walked over to him, tangling your hand in his hair and pulling his head back to meet your gaze. “Oh you have so much explaining to do, Spider-Boy,” he chuckled and stood up, grabbing your hand to sit you on the bed. “For starters, it’s Spider-Man,” he said, standing in front of you, peeling the suit off as he started explaining how it happened.

You two talked for hours that night as you gently put Neosporin over his cut even though he assured you it would be gone in a few hours, but you couldn’t trust that, explaining how infections worked to him. He let you do it every time though and let you ask all the questions you could think of even well after the sun had come up. He even let you look at the web shooters he had made, accidentally setting it off and watching it hit the wall with a loud splat.

Peter laid back on his pillow, letting you rest your head on his chest, snuggling into his side, realizing how much you had missed your other half the last few months. Your regular sleepovers had all but ended, but the comfort of Peter was like home. His soft t-shirt under your cheek, the warmth radiating from him, his steady heartbeat pounding beneath your ear. His familiar scent of cinnamon and cedarwood drifting to your nose and another note that was just simply Peter all but calmed your nerves about his secret life. You trusted him, he knew what he was doing even if you didn’t like it.

You were drifting into sleep, Peter a step ahead of you when you mumbled out to him, “Peter?” He hummed in response, hand rubbing your arm. “Can you take me flying tomorrow?” He chuckled, lips landing on the crown of your head. “Whatever you want, sweetheart,” and for the first time, the pet name didn’t irk you.

That became a regular occurrence on his patrol nights. He would fall into your room and you had a secret stash of medical supplies under your bed that you would pull out, half asleep, and dress his wounds as he went over his nights with you. Sometimes your hands lingered too long and you were worried he was going to catch it, but if he did he never said anything.

Your hands were trembling as you stood in line, waiting for your name to be called, Peter nowhere to be found. It was graduation day and by some dumb luck you had managed to graduate with honors the same as Pete. You were terrified you were going to trip and as that thought crept into your head, forcing you to realize just how embarrassing that would be, you heard that familiar voice behind you, making you jump.

“Don’t worry babe, I won’t let you fall,” you turned quickly and saw his backpack on his gown, but before you could say anything your name echoed through the speakers, your grandma and May cheering for you as Peter nudged you forward, right on your heels as his name was right after.

Once the ceremony ended you found yourself hugging your small friend group that you had grown fond of over the course of high school, offering congratulations to them all when you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around you from behind and hurl you into the air. The small scream that flew from your mouth was traumatizing, your nails clawing into his arm, cap falling off.

His laugh boomed as he set you down, catching your cap in the process. You whipped around, too damn happy to be mad at him and threw yourself in his arms. The familiar grasp around your waist made your heart flutter as you jumped up and down, shouting the entire time. “We did it! We’re fucking done!” he followed your same chant, starting to jump with you when your grandma and May found you both.

“Come on, picture time!” You leaned into Peter’s side, head resting between his shoulder and chest, arms wrapping around his waist as they snapped pictures, your smile the biggest it had been. “So, Spidey duties were absolutely necessary minutes before our graduation?” you mumbled out to him so your guardians couldn’t hear. He pinched your side, forcing a giggle to bubble from your throat. “It absolutely was, but I made it in time,” you looked up at your best friend, his large chocolate eyes piercing your own.

“I thought you weren’t showing and were gonna let me walk alone, possibly even letting me trip up the steps in these death straps,” you gently kicked his leg trying to show him the wedges you were wearing, but his eyes never left yours. As you continued to talk, he smirked, lips finding your hairline. “Never sweetheart,” your cheeks flushed when your grandma finally called out to you both saying we were going out to dinner.

Peter squeezed your arm as he pulled away saying he was going to talk to some friends real fast before we left. You walked over to the ladies, wanting to see the pictures, when you felt eyes on your back. Elise and May both said to meet them at the curb when we were ready. You barely responded as you looked around and when your eyes met the lanky figure across the field your breath caught in your throat.

She looked like hell. Skinnier than the last time you saw her, veins prevalent on her arms, hair scraggly, but you could tell she had put on her best dress for the event. You fought within yourself if you needed to walk over and say something or just turn and walk away, but before you could make a decision your legs started moving in that direction anyways.

Her smile filled her features, not quite reaching her eyes as you approached her. “Oh honey, you look beautiful. I’m so proud of you,” you stood about a foot away from her as she tried to reach out to touch you, but you immediately flinched back. “What’re you doing here?” she seemed taken aback by your question, but plastered the same fake smile on her face.

“I’m here to see my baby graduate of course,” you shook your head, trying to not meet her gaze that stared straight into you. “I’m not your baby. Really, what’re you doing here?” She faltered, hands shaking as her eyes darted around. “Sweetheart,” your eyes snapped up to her, stepping back as the name fell from her lips. She wasn’t allowed to call you that, it didn’t hold the same meaning. It sat in the air between you two, seeping into your skin, making you feel nauseous.

Before she could continue you felt a tall figure take their place behind you, hand slipping to your waist and pulling you back into him. Her smile grew as she took in the boy behind you. “Oh my god, Peter! You’ve gotten so big,” you didn’t need to see his face to know he wasn’t offering her the same kindness in return.

“May and Elise are waiting, we need to go,” he gently started pushing you towards your family, leaning forward to whisper in your ear that he’d meet you in a second. As you started to walk away, you spared a glance back at Peter and your mom. He pulled his wallet out of his pocket, but you turned back around before you could see what he was going to give her.

Your eyes stung, your nose became full, you dropped your head, going to hide behind a brick wall that was home to the park's bathrooms. You fell into a squat along the wall, trying your hardest to fight the tears that threatened to fall. Anger coursed through you at the women that had abandoned you, left you behind, and only showed up for money. On your graduation day no less and yet you felt pain for her.

Your heart ached for the woman that knew no better and could only think about contacting her family for money. Whatever she used it for, you didn’t care. It didn’t take the sting away whenever she made her appearance though. You saw the dirty converse make their way into your eyeline and two hands cradled each side of your face, his long fingers resting behind your ears.

“Hey, hey, hey. You’re alright, c’mere,” he pulled you up and into his embrace, locking his arms around you as you calmed down, breathing him in, letting it act as some sort of aromatherapy to you. His hands drifted back to your face, forcing you to look up at him. “I took care of it, okay? I don’t want you to worry about her anymore. Now we’re going to go to a nice dinner with Elise and May and eat as much sushi as you possibly can, alright? I talked them into all you can eat sushi and I have been starving myself all damn day to eat as much as I possibly can and you’re going to join me in that,” you let a wet laugh come through your tears, letting the pads of his thumbs brush over the tracks on your cheeks.

His lips found your forehead, one hand on your jaw, the other cradling the back of your head. “Do I look like I’ve been crying?” You tried to make a serious face looking up at him and he bit back a smile, tilting his head. “I’m sorry, but yes. You’re totally swollen like you just ate a fuck ton of salt,” you smacked his hands off of you, stomping off towards your parents as he trailed behind, trying to make it better, but only making it worse.

You had a caterpillar roll halfway in your mouth when your grandma took out an envelope addressed to both you and Peter. His eyes lit up as you gently took it from her hand, eyes narrowing at her as you set your chopsticks down. “I thought we said no gifts,” she rolled her eyes, May looking entirely too nervous.

“Now, this is from the both of us, we hope you guys like it,” your gaze softened towards May as you flipped the envelope over, pulling at the back. Your eyes met Peter’s, his brow pulled together indicating he had no clue about it either. You pulled out a card titled “To the Graduates”, you and Peter both read the small script on the front as you opened the card and saw two tickets taped to the card.

You pulled them off, reading the top one. A train ticket up the coast to Maine, a place you and Peter had always talked about wanting to visit, mainly for the crabs and lobsters, but for their beautiful history and beaches too. Always imagining a vacation away from everything. Where he could abandon Spider-Man duties for just a few days and where you could read as much as possible on the beach. A dream you shared often that you didn’t think would be possible. At least not for a few years, maybe after college. There had been so many nights spent laying together and whispering about what you would do on vacation and heavy sighs that would follow, knowing how far that trip was from the present. But now the two most amazing people in the world made it reality for you two and you didn’t know what to do. Your hand came to your mouth, eyes watering for a second time that day as you looked at the two women sitting across from you that would give you both the world two times over if they could and you only hoped you would do it for them too.

Your grandma cleared her throat before continuing. “We got you a two week long trip up the coast to Maine. Honey, you remember that your grandfather has a house up there that’s been sitting unused for one too many summers and we want you both to take the trip. You more than deserve it. All expenses paid, including food and tickets,” you looked at Peter to see him biting his lip, a small sniffle escaping him as you both stood up and went to hug them.

Your arms wrapped around May first, nuzzling your head into the side of her face, murmuring a thousand thank yous before going to your grandma, switching with Peter as he went to his aunt. You kissed them both and wiped your tears, looking at Peter with a huge smile. “I’m so happy right now,” he grabbed you in his arms and pulled back quickly, looking at the tickets. “Holy shit they’re for the day after tomorrow,” you both sat back down, pulling out your phones to start looking at everything you wanted to do on your trip, only letting yourself overthink for a second when you saw him open the notes app on his phone. The note titled ‘Our Dreams’.

Your head leaned on the window, watching the coast fly by as your feet sit on Peter’s lap, when you hear a snap. You look at the boy sitting across from you, seeing how the sunset took over his features, turning him into a golden glow. His soft hair was tousled, slightly falling over his forehead, he had just gotten a haircut so the sides were a bit shorter than you were used to. His jaw was as sharp as ever and when he looked up to meet your gaze his eyes looked like honey. His dorky smile took over his face and you gave a soft smile back to him.

“You’re so pretty, you know that?” You told him as he pulled the camera up to his eye, one hand holding it firm from underneath as he snapped another picture of you. “Don’t worry, you’re still the prettier one, but I am aware of how gorgeous I am,” he mumbled as the shutter clicked. You lightly kicked his stomach as he said that, a snort falling from your lips. “I can’t believe we’re actually doing this. You think New York’s okay with Spider-Man for that long?” his smile grew as he looked at you. “They survived seventeen years without me. I think they can manage two weeks, yeah?” you giggled as he kept talking.

“It’s crazy, right? I don’t know how they managed to pull this off without us knowing,” you two continued to talk before the train pulled to a stop. Peter quickly gathered your bags and slung his backpack on, ushering you towards the exit as you grabbed the duffle bag from his shoulder. “Just cause you’re Spider-Man doesn’t mean I can’t carry my own bag,” he rolled his eyes, continuing to push you forward. As soon as you stepped off, your Uber sat parked and waiting. A thirty minute drive had you pulling up to a small white shack sitting on an isolated part of the coast. Your eyes slipped shut, hearing the waves crash on the shore, the smell filling your senses.

Keys jingling pulled you back to the moment, seeing Peter hold the keys, moving towards the house. When he unlocked the front door, you both stepped in. The walls were decorated with typical coastal decor, lots of blue, seashells, anchors, stripes, nautical everything.

The sun was dipping into the horizon, a clear view from the back door and porch as you dropped your bags and took off running. Peter came from behind, his arm wrapping around you throwing you over his shoulder as he ran you both to the water, screams and laughs falling from your lips as you both fell into the water.

The two weeks flew by. Peter was unbelievably tan, with the sunkissed look he looked like a complete Greek God. You had read over twenty books in the two weeks, hardly ever leaving the beach. You two had explored the entire area, eating at almost every place you could,wandered through all the shops, and you had never seen him take so many pictures before. He claimed his muse was the happiest she had ever been.

It was your last night of the trip and you were on cloud nine. You laid on the beach, Peter right next to you, his arm brushing yours. Your skin felt like it was on fire from where it had touched him. It was happening more often and it made your head swirl. This wasn’t anyone else, it was Peter. You were falling for him and it was exciting, but terrifying. You couldn’t risk anything happening between you two. If you lost his friendship it would be the end of you.

You couldn’t ignore that Peter had been looking at you differently and his gazes were lingering longer than normal on you. You admit, you both had been touchier than normal, his hands on you more than usual. You loved it, longed for it, and craved it. It would ruin everything you two had together, but the more it happened the more you thought about what could be. He meant too much to you, but you wouldn’t lie to yourself, it was getting harder to act like it meant nothing.

He cleared his throat, making you realize you had been staring at him for too long. Your face burned as his smile grew wider. He sat up and grabbed his backpack. “Elise made me promise to wait until the last day to give this to you,” he pulled out a card from his backpack and handed you the envelope.

It was almost identical to the one she had given you for graduation, but this one was only addressed to you. You sat up and moved to sit in between his legs, settling down and leaning back against his firm torso. His head rested on your shoulder, peering down at the card you were pulling out.

One of your arms draped over his knee as you began to read.

My darling girl, I cannot begin to put into words how proud I am of you and the woman you’ve become. You continue to amaze me everyday with how resilient, smart, and strong you are. I know you’ve dealt with so much, but I have some more to tell you.

You never met your grandfather, but he was the most wonderful man I’ve ever met. I wish you could’ve met him, he would’ve loved you darling girl. His family was from New York and he had lived here his entire life, but his family spent the summers at that beach house you’re at. I wanted you to go there to get a glimpse at what your grandfathers and my life was like when we were younger.

Your grandfather had property set aside for your mother. I don’t think I will ever be able to apologize enough for what happened to her and the pain I feel seeing what she’s doing to herself is just a reminder of what could’ve been for her. You, my darling girl deserve the world and more. I want to give you the apartment he had set aside for your mother.

It’s not much, but a small two bedroom one bathroom apartment that we had lived in at one time. When he passed it was too difficult for me to stay, but I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of the apartment and stuck to his wishes to keep it for Dahlia. But it’s yours now. You can choose what to do with the extra space, I have a feeling I know what you’ll do, but it’s yours. It’s time for me to move on from my New York dreams. I think I achieved them all anyway. I’m coming to live at the beach house, to spend my time resting after the work I’ve done. I’ll be a phone call away whenever you need me, but I know you’re ready for what’s next in your story. You always are.

I love you more than anything and always will. You're my girl. Always. Grandma Elise

Your sobs hiccuped in your throat as you finished the note, tightly grasping the key in one hand that tumbled from the note when you had opened it, Peter holding you as you cried. He kissed your temple as you wiped harshly at your face. You never knew your grandfather, your grandma didn’t speak of him much, it caused too much pain for her and you didn’t want to pry into a part of her life she didn’t feel like sharing.

Yet after this trip and with the note that you would cherish for the rest of your life your heart broke at the thought of her relocating up here, so far from you, but you knew it was her turn. Her turn to continue her life however she wanted and whatever that would entail for her.

You turned your head, pushing your face into Peter’s neck as you whispered up to him, “I want you to come with me. Move in with me to the apartment,” he nodded his head, as he gently took your face in his hands.

Your breath hitched in your throat as his plush lips met yours. You eagerly met his kiss, hand stuck to his throat as he licked your bottom lip begging for entry and you opened for him. A small moan escaped your throat as he explored you in an entirely new way, you turned to face him, hands landing on both his thighs.

His hands landed in your hair, one tangling in the locks and gently tugging, pulling a gasp from your lips that he instantly swallowed. You stopped, putting your hands on his chest, leaning back from him. You two were panting and you rested your forehead against his and you shook your head. “Pete, we can’t do this,” you whispered to him and he shut his eyes.

He nodded his head and kissed the tip of your nose, “I know, I know,” he mumbled and you smiled at him. Your hand cradling his jaw, a small, pained smile coming across your features. “I love you, you know that?” He returned the smile and chuckled under his breath. “Don’t get soft on me. C’mon let’s go pack,” he stood, taking your hand in his, wrapping his arms around you after he pulled you up. You savored the moment, feeling his warm skin pressed to you, your arms wrapped tightly around his stomach, trying to fight back the feelings that were quickly bubbling up and were getting harder and harder to deny.

When you two returned from your trip life swept you both up in a whirlwind. Your grandma moved the following week, school was going to be starting soon, and you and Peter were packing everything to get moved into the new apartment. You hopped between homes all the time, asking if he had towels that he could bring or if you needed to bring them. Your grandma let you both take the furniture from the townhome that had been your home your entire life.

The last night was harder than you thought. You crept into your grandma’s room, seeing only a blow up mattress on the floor. You shuffled in the door as she turned and saw you. “It’s weird seeing it so empty, huh?” she asked you and her breath caught in her throat, trying to bite back tears. You hurried to her side, laying next to her in bed as she started smoothing your hair down. “When I brought you here I didn’t know what I was going to do. I was terrified. I didn’t have Mark anymore, Dahlia was god knows where, and May and Ben were the only people there,” you sat quietly listening to her share something she never had before.

She was a secret person, you knew that, and you relished in moments where she let you into glimpses of her life that she had buried away. “I hadn’t seen Mark’s family since he had died. They never liked me much, and completely blamed me for what happened with your mom. I do think some of it was my fault, but it was so hard without her father. I lost a part of me that day,” you sat there, trying to think about what would happen if you lost Peter.

You weren’t sure you would ever be able to recover from that. An entire part of you would be ripped away, the better part of you. He made you better. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing the thoughts to go away. “But everything turned out alright. You grew up and became the most wonderful person. I’m so happy you have Peter to share your moments with. You’ll be good with him, I know it,” you smiled listening to her. You knew everything would be fine as long as Peter was there for it.

The next six months passed in an absolute blur. You both moved into the apartment, started school, you began working at your dream job in a museum as a museum assistant, and Peter was busier than ever with Spider-Man and school. You hardly saw him more than once a week if you were lucky and even then it was in passing. He hadn’t stopped coming into your room in the middle of the night for you to take care of his wounds, but it was mainly done in silence, you were too tired to talk. He would fall asleep as you tended to him, struggling to keep his eyes open.

You had only seen your grandmother once since she had moved to Maine and it was hard. You had been feeling more alone than ever even though everything was falling into place like it should’ve been. You missed Peter. Your Peter.

After the night on the beach you two hadn’t talked about the kiss, but the tension between you two was palpable. Every time you two were together you caught yourself thinking about how amazing he felt and how right it was. Your feelings had multiplied, but you had been the one to stop and Peter made no further advances, respecting your stupid wishes. But you wish he would break them because you knew if he started up you wouldn’t be able to stop and you were becoming more okay with that.

Another day trudged along. Back to back classes, followed by a full eight hour day at work, and to top it off a blizzard was supposed to blow through that night. All you wanted to do was go home, eat some ramen, and go to bed, particularly with Peter if he was going to be home, but you highly doubted it. You were the last out of the building, shooting Peter a text and letting him know you were on your way home, something he insisted you do so he would know you were safe.

The snow on the ground had turned to pure ice over the last few days and was incredibly slick as you walked down the steps from the museum's front doors, turning to lock them and begin your trek home. The wind was whipping and you pulled your coat tighter around yourself when you saw fresh snowflakes starting to fall from the sky above.

You knew you needed to get home because this was going to be a bad storm. In your attempt to hurry and dodge disgusting puddles that you didn’t even want to think about what could be in them, you miscalculated a step and you could feel your legs fly out from under you. Your body turned at the last minute, having the impact fall completely on your right shoulder. Your head knocked against the concrete as you laid there, feeling the searing pain that went down your whole arm and head.

When you sat up you realized that you couldn’t move your arm and began to panic, trying to figure out how to get up without the stabilization both hands would offer on the ice beneath you. Fishing your phone from your pocket you dialed his number, praying he would answer while on patrol.

It rang four times before you heard the chipper voice answer on the other end. “Hi babe, you called just as I was getting back to my bag. I honestly don’t feel like patrolling in the snow tonight so I’m calling it an early night. Did you get home yet, you didn’t text me?” You bit your lip trying to hold in the whimper that was threatening to escape at any moment as another pain shot through your arm.

“Peter, I slipped and fell on ice and I can’t move my right arm at all and I hit my head on the concrete. I seriously cannot get up, I’m on an entire patch of ice and will slip if I even try. I really need your help and I’m so dizzy,” before you could finish your sentence you heard wind going through the speaker on the other side of the phone.

“Do not try and move, baby. I’m on my way and I’ll be there in just a second, okay? How far from the museum did you get?” As you told him where you sat, you realized that it was far later than you normally walked home and it was starting to snow harder. It didn’t look good that you were sitting there in the middle of the sidewalk completely alone, tears falling down your face from pain.

Peter was breathing hard trying to get to where you were, knowing that a young girl sitting on the sidewalk in New York late at night who couldn’t move on their own was not a safe situation in any way. He went further out from his patrol zone than he normally did and was pissed that he didn’t keep himself closer to your normal walking route from work. He always stayed nearby, just in case, but you hadn’t needed him yet over the six months you had been working there. Figures that on the one night he strayed from the area you would need him.

He kept you talking on the phone, heart clenching as he was hearing you cry on the other end from how much pain you were in even though you were trying to not let him hear. When he turned down the street he saw you sitting there and realized how soaking wet you were from the ground and falling snow, your hair a matted mess from behind. He landed in front of you with a soft thump and immediately pulled his mask and gloves off.

His warm hands found home on your cheeks, eyes frantic with worry. “It’s okay, I’m here, I’m here. Your right arm?” He went to grab your hand and a small scream left your mouth and he released it immediately. A small smile came across his face trying to calm you down.

The pad of his thumb swept across your forehead, a bit of blood dripping from his fingertip at the motion. “Okay baby, your arm might be broken and you have a bad cut on your forehead. I need to get you to the hospital. I’m gonna pick you up, don’t try and hold on to me okay, I got you,” you nodded as you felt his arm go behind your back, the other behind your knees.

The emergency room took longer than you would’ve liked. Peter changed out of his Spider-Man getup before taking you inside, having fully changed in less than a minute. Your teeth had been chattering the entire time, shaking from how cold you were and he was incredibly worried, trying to not to translate that to you. Luckily, you didn’t have a concussion, and your arm wasn’t broken. Your shoulder had been dislocated, but Peter hadn’t been able to see with your coat on.

When you two got home all you wanted to do was get changed, take a shower, and go to bed. Peter was being extra careful with you, almost terrified to touch you. Your arm was in a sling and your face was bruised, the cut on your forehead didn’t need stitches, but was bigger than a scrape.

Peter helped you out of your coat and sat you on the couch. “Sit here, let me get you water you need to take your pills, and then I’ll help you into bed,” your eyes never left him as he hurried around the space, grabbing everything he needed. He had been nervous all night, hardly meeting your eyes after getting you to the hospital.

“Peter,” you whispered as he kneeled in front of you, his eyes met yours and his gaze met yours. You reached a hand out and lightly set it on his jaw. “Are you okay?” He dropped his head and let out a single dry laugh. “You’re sitting here with a bruised forehead and a dislocated shoulder and you’re asking me if I’m okay,” his eyebrows furrowed, tilting his head to look at you. You didn’t know what to say so you thought of the first thing that came to your mind.

“Can you help me take a bath? Please? I feel so disgusting. I sat in street gunk for like fifteen minutes,” he nodded his head, grabbing your hand and helping you up. He went into the bathroom, starting to run the bath and you followed him into the small space.

He turned to face you and you felt your hands getting clammy, suddenly nervous at the notion you had proposed, but you needed to bathe. You were a disgusting mess. His hands looked at your shirt and his eyes met yours.

“Don’t even try to move your arm, okay? I’ll get you all sorted, sweetheart” his voice was low as he moved to take your arm out of the brace. His eyes drifted to your shirt, working through all the ways he would be able to get it off of you without moving your arm.

“Just rip it, Pete,” you let out a low laugh and he did the same. His hands went to the neck line and without any struggle ripped it down the middle. It fell off your shoulders and into a pool on the floor. His hands slipped behind your back, fingers lightly grazing over your spine, sending a shiver down your back as he undid the clasps on your bra, his fingers fumbling slightly.

You noticed his hands had a tremble to them as he moved the straps down your arms. Your breasts became exposed to the cool bathroom air, your nipples instantly getting hard. His breath hitched in his throat as he eyed you for the first time. He squatted in front of you, undoing the button on your pants, before gently sliding them down your legs, taking your hand and helping you step out of them.

His eyebrows furrowed, seeing the large bruise forming on your hip, his fingertips grazing over the area. You were visibly shaking, but Peter thought you were just cold, making him feel silly for being so nervous about this. Your panties went next and you were hyper aware of every movement that was happening between you two.

Peter stood up and his eyes met yours, an attempt at a comforting smile as you stood completely nude in front of the man that had been your best friend for most of your life. You were crossing a threshold that you wouldn’t be able to return to and you weren’t sure you wanted to. Peter was flush, his neck and face growing redder as the seconds ticked by.

You played with the hem of the worn hoodie he was wearing. Peter let a small smirk form on his plush lips and took his hoodie off. “Can I get in with you?” You played the actions in your head, all possible outcomes that could end as poorly as you imagined, but you didn’t care.

Nodding your head, he quickly finished undressing, and you saw the beautiful man in front of you. You had thought about this moment so many times, but now that it was happening you didn’t really know what to do. His fingers lightly closed around yours, leading you to the tub. The steam bounced off the water. Peter climbed in first and when you went to step in, he stopped you, lifting you with ease into the tub.

He helped you sit, allowing your freezing back to lean against his warm and firm chest. You let a small moan fall from your lips as the warm water enclosed around you, feeling like absolute heaven. Peter chuckled behind you and whispered out, almost afraid to jostle the moment. “Please, don’t make that noise again,” you could feel how hard he was behind you, pressing into your lower back.

He grasped the cup on the edge of the tub, when he grabbed it you had no idea, pulling the hot water into it and pouring it over your scalp. Letting your hair get drenched, his hands grabbed your shampoo bottle, squeezing a good amount into his palms. You watched as his hands lathered the soap, attaching his fingertips to your scalp and starting to massage it into your hair.

Your eyes slipped closed, letting your weight fully rest against him. “There you go,” he murmured, lips kissing your temple as you let his hands work into your hair. You don’t know how long he washed your hair, but when he finished you felt his large hand cover your forehead, blocking your eyes from the falling water that went through your locks, removing the soap.

His hands found the bar of soap, dipping it into the water, and your eyes opened. You started breathing harder as you realized he was going to wash you. He whispered into your ear as his hand rested on your left shoulder, “Are you sure this is, okay?” You nodded slowly, feeling him trail down your arms.

Goosebumps erupted over your skin, his other hand going to rest on your stomach. His lips found home on your shoulder, kissing the bruise that had shown in the hospital. You two sat in silence before he spoke up. “You know how scared I was when you called me?” Your eyes danced over the side of his face, your head resting against his shoulder as he talked.

You shook your head as he kept going. “I was terrified. The thought of you sitting there alone, in the dark, and hurt,” he shook his head, eyes closing as he thought about it. You kissed right under his jaw. “I know, I’m sorry. You know I fall a lot, it’s kinda my thing,” you giggled, trying to lighten the mood as he rested his forehead on yours.

“Which is why my patrol on nights you work are always in that area. You hadn’t needed me in the entire six months you’ve been working there,” he shook his head and you knew what he was saying. “I’ll always need you, Petey,” his eyes opened at the nickname.

He didn’t hesitate, lips landing on yours. Your bottom lip finds solace in between his. The kiss grew needy, messy, and sloppy. Your teeth clashed against each other, tongues fighting for dominance. He broke apart from you, breath fanning across your nose. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop once we start this,” you nodded your head in response.

“I know,” your hand pushed his head back down to yours and you two connected once again. Your fingers tangled in his damp hair, tugging lightly, a groan that you could feel against your back erupted from his throat. The line didn’t exist anymore between you two. It had been crossed and you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. He was your Peter, always had been, and you needed him in every way he would offer himself to you.

His hand danced across your ribs, moving upwards as they groped your breasts. Your nipples were hard and perked as they rubbed against his palms. His hands were still covered from the soap as he pinched your left nipple, a gasp leaving your mouth, quickly swallowed by Peter.

He stopped suddenly, gulping down air. “You’re injured and I don’t think it would be smart to do this in the tub. C’mon,” he stood, pulling you with him and grabbing the towel from the bar, wrapping it around you as water puddled on the floor.

“Go to your room, I’ll be in there in a second,” he quickly kissed you before you turned around to walk to your room. You didn’t realize how freezing the apartment was until your feet moved across the hardwood floor, but you heard the heater kick on, knowing that’s what he went to do. Even in the heat of moments like this all he could think of was what you needed and how he could make sure it would be taken care of. When you got to your room, Peter was on your trail, only seconds behind you.

His hands moved you towards your bed, lips attacking your neck. “Get under the covers, you’re like ice,” you followed his orders, trying to move gently so as to not move your shoulder. The heavy comforter enclosed around you, Pete laying on top of you underneath it. The body heat radiated off him and you pulled him closer wanting more, anything more.

You chased his lips, a laugh leaving him. “God, you’re so needy, baby,” you scowled at him as he laughed harder. His lips landed on the pulled skin between your brows, smoothing it out. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you, I promise,” you internally thought about the odds of how this promise would play out. When you felt his long, slender, middle finger move through your folds you gasped. Your odds were good.

He brought his finger to his lips, letting it hit his tongue. His eyes fluttered shut, a groan leaving his lips. “You taste so damn good,” a moan was all you could offer in response as his finger went back to the place you needed him most. Your eyes squeezed shut as his thumb briefly moved over your clit. “Oh god, Peter,” his forehead rested against yours as he pushed down, starting to move his finger in circles, your breath mingling together.

“Say that again,” your teeth sucked your lip into your mouth, biting down hard as you whimpered, his middle and ring fingers pumping into you as he continued working your clit. His fingers curled inside you, hitting the spongy spot deep in your pussy and your mouth opened, a loud moan tumbling out.

“Peter shit,” he worked his fingers faster, wanting you to fall over the edge that was getting closer and closer. “Are you gonna cum for me, sweet girl? C’mon I can feel how close you are. Cum for me, baby,” as his words fell over you, you clenched around him, a loud groan came from him as he coaxed you through your orgasm.

He removed his fingers and when you saw your own slick dripping down his fist, onto his forearm, veins popping in his arm, you moaned his name as he licked his hand clean. “You’re a fucking mess, sweetie,” you could feel how flush you were, trying to catch your breath as you came down from the high.

You moved your hand down his torso and felt his cock pressed hard against his stomach. He shook his head and kissed you deeply. “Not tonight, sweetheart. I wouldn’t be able to control myself and you need to sleep. Soon, okay?” He could sense how irritated you were, laughing as he fell down next to you, gently pulling you into him.

“You really are needy, aren’t you?” You flicked his forehead, letting him kiss you as you settled down, feeling the wave of exhaustion fall over you. “Thank you, Petey,” was all you mumbled out as sleep took over you, the pills you took earlier clearly kicking in.

He hummed in response, arm wrapped around you, lips on your temple. “I love you,” was the last thing you heard before falling into the best sleep of your life.

The next couple of months were the best of your life. Peter kept to his word and as soon as your shoulder was better and you had gained mobility again, you two slept together. Afterwards you two found yourself trying to get at each other whenever you could. Peter would come back from patrol and you were immediately on him and he would pound into you, taking his stress from the night out on you. When you were trying to make dinner, Peter was right behind you needing you as soon as he could. Your bare ass on the countertop as he ate you out, your moans bouncing off the apartment walls.

Peter had even taken you on a couple of “real dates” as he called them. He had taken you to dinner after work one night, a 24 hour diner being the only thing open, but it had been the best burger you had ever had in your life. On an open Saturday morning you two had gone to the farmers market, getting ingredients for you two to cook dinner together that quickly ended with food being forgotten as you two tangled up on the couch, you using Peter for over an hour. Peter asked you to help cut his hair one afternoon and as you straddled him, ensuring the sides were even, you somehow ended up riding him, having your neck littered with purple marks.

Your feelings were blossoming by the day and you knew you were completely and totally in love with your best friend. Peter was harder to read and the thought of sharing your feelings with him only spurred migraines. He hadn’t mentioned any other girls, honestly he never really had apart from some girls he was friends with at school, but you didn’t want to rock the boat on what you had going on with him.

As you sat up waiting for him one night, knowing you had been dying to see each other for the last few days, you heard the familiar thump on your bedroom's fire escape. When your window didn’t open, you stood going out to see Peter slumped on the stoop. You immediately grabbed his arms, dragging him into the room as he groaned.

You pulled his mask off and saw the bruises as prominent as ever on his face, blood pooling from his nose. “Fuck, Petey where’s it hurt the most? What do I need to do first?” you started bombarding him with questions, hands going to peel the suit off. You didn’t even realize you were shaking, eyes blurring with tears as you were so focused on just getting him fixed. You hadn’t seen Peter like this in a long time and it never failed to rattle you.

Running to the bathroom to grab the tub of supplies you kept, your thoughts ran rampant in your head. Situations like this forced you to realize that although he was a superhero and that he could heal quicker than normal, he was still human. He was still mortal and putting himself in these dangerous positions was normal and it could kill him. Deep down you knew it would be what would kill him and it felt like your heart was being ripped apart at the thought.

You dropped to the floor with him, his breathing shallow and struggling as you saw the incredibly large gash across his stomach. Your hands were trembling as you grabbed the towel to wipe the blood and know where you needed to start. His hands grabbed yours and pulled them towards his mouth, lips kissing your knuckles. “Breath. I’m here, I’m alright. Take a breath,” you closed your eyes, forcing yourself to calm yourself down.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at his face, into his eyes as you began to work. Your stitches had improved over the years, the many videos you had watched only made you better, plus years of practice. When you finally finished, you cleaned up the supplies and felt Peter’s hand slip under your chin, tilting your head up to look into his eyes.

Your eyes stung and began to water as you saw how beat to shit he was. “I’m so sorry,” he mumbled, bringing you to him and placing a chaste kiss on your lips. “You scare me sometimes, Peter. When you come home like this,” you motioned to the state he was in as you continued talking. “I get scared I won’t be able to fix you and what do I do then?”

Your head tilted as you looked at him, waiting for his response. The tears that had begun falling, Peter wiped with the pad of his thumb. He nodded his head, hair falling into his eyes. “I know, baby, I know,” you brushed the hair back out of his face. Peter’s hand fell to your hips and pulled you onto his lap, you shook your head and tried to fight him. “I need you, please,” his desperate plea had you melting into his touch, allowing him to pull you onto him.

His hand lifted your night slip, pulling your panties to the side and ran a finger through the wetness of your pussy. You bit on the soft spot between his collarbone and shoulder, savoring the sound of him groaning, immediately thrusting his hips up to meet yours.

He wasted no time, freeing his cock from his suit pants, and you sank onto him. Slowly accepting him inch by inch. You felt complete like this, like you were meant to be with him like this. You started to move, Peter’s arms crushing you to his chest as you bounced on him. His lips found yours, allowing the cries that fell from your mouth to flow into his, mingling with what he was grunting out.

His encouraging words fill the space around you, encompassing you, making you feel warm and loved. One hand was on the back of your neck, the other around your waist, keeping you as close to him as possible, trying to savor the moment. You mumbled out to him that you were close, Pete telling you he was right behind you and you knew he was. His movements were like second nature to you, as his back muscles grew tighter and the vein in the side of his neck popped out, you knew he was only seconds from his own release.

“Cum in me, Petey. I want to feel you cum in me,” those words tipped him over the edge, his hips snapping up into yours as he finished, cum painting your insides as you finally hit your release, letting him push your face into his neck. That scent of cinnamon and Peter hit your senses, making your eyes water at the hominess that it offered.

You didn’t move as he softened inside you, not wanting to leave his grasp and he was making no effort to move you either. When you made the first move to get up, you pulled him with you, bringing him to your bed. No words were said as you both laid in your sheets, Pete pulling you to his chest as you laid on your side. You felt his lips on the back of your neck and you let sleep take you, reveling in the warmth he always offered to you.

When you woke up the next morning, sun hitting your eyes, you stretched out and let your joints pop into place. The spot next to you was cold as your hand skimmed over the empty sheets. You heard movement in the kitchen and you got up, following the sounds. “How’re you feeling, Spidey?” You smiled as you spoke, walking up to where he stood leaning on the counter, back to you.

He slowly turned to you, arms crossing over his chest, his eyes rimmed red. “Baby, what’s wrong?” You started towards him and he held his hand out to you, stopping you from coming closer. Your stomach dropped, the feeling of dread creeping into your every thought. “We can’t do this anymore. I can’t hurt you anymore,” Your arms wrapped around yourself as you thought of what to say.

“What’re you talking about, Peter?” He shook his head, not wanting to meet your gaze as your eyes stared at him. “Last night you were terrified. I’ve never seen you look like that before and I caused that. I won’t do it again, I promise,” you scoffed, pressing your heels into your eyes as his words washed over you.

“I’m going to stay with May for a few days so this can settle,” Your eyes snapped to him and you stormed up to him, pushing him with your palms. “So you’re just gonna leave too? Just like that? Like I’m nothing to you? Okay, fine. Leave, go!” You were screaming at the end, huffing for air, tears threatening to spill.

He wouldn’t even look at your face as he moved to his room grabbing an already packed bag and leaving your shared space. You grabbed a cup off the counter and threw it at the door as he left, watching it smash into pieces as you screamed after him telling him how much you hated him as you sank to the floor. You couldn’t hold in the tears as a sob ripped through your throat, it felt like your heart was being ripped from your chest.

You knew this would happen. You had told yourself over and over this would be how it ended, but you were naive and thought that he wouldn’t be like everyone else in your life. You thought he loved you, but you knew he didn’t. He was being selfish, like everyone else in your life.

You had no idea how long it had been since he had left, but you hadn’t left the couch. You slept there, cried there, and stared at the ceiling. You were fairly certain you had lost your job, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Your phone went off, you had been keeping it near, just in case he called. He hadn’t yet.

Your grandma's picture popped up and you hesitated to answer. You knew May had told her what was going on and you didn’t want to talk about it. She was only going to worry more if you didn’t so you finally picked up. “Hi, grandma,” your voice was raw, not having been used in days other than to cry.

“Oh darling, you sound horrible. Pack a bag, you’re coming to stay with me for a few days,” you tried to tell her no, that you weren’t up for it, but she forced you, saying she needed you. So you found yourself sitting on the couch of the beach house that felt like paradise. Where you and Peter took your first and only vacation. Where you started to realize just how in love with him you were.

Your grandma took care of you. Brushed your hair, forced you to eat, forced you to get some sun. On your last day there, you sat on the porch swing with your head in her lap when she sighed. “You know, your grandfather and I had some amazing memories here,” you looked up at her as she broke the silence. “One summer he and I snuck up here a week before his family was due. We spent the whole time just enjoying each other. It was the first time he and I had been truly alone, just us. God, it was amazing. I realized I was gonna marry him on that trip,” your eyes watered as she shared exactly what you had felt with Peter.

The feelings she described were tearing you apart. A small sob came from you and she peered down, running her hand over your hair. “Oh my darling, it’ll be okay. He’s just in as bad of shape as you. May says he’s gone for days at a time and she doesn’t hear from him at all and when he’s back he’s locked in his room,” your heart ached at the thought of him hurting like you were.

But he did this. It was what he wanted, not you. He didn’t want you. It was an accident. You found yourself as an accident again and it was destroying you. She sat you up and took your hands in hers. “I have to tell you something and I need you to listen to me before you start, okay?”

You nodded your head waiting for her to continue, worry spreading through you. “I’m dying, darling. I have cancer and I’m dying,” your eyes went wide, jumping from your seat as you tried to comprehend what she was saying. All you could manage to say was a chant of no’s, refusing to believe that the only person who had been a constant in your life was going to be leaving you. Just life everyone.

She pulled you back down, trying to get you to calm down as your tears finally stopped. You felt like you had nothing left in you. A shell of yourself as she answered all your questions. She had known since before your graduation, nearing a year from that date. May had known the entire time and had promised not to say anything to you. She didn’t know how long she had and even if she did she wouldn’t tell you.

It turns out it wasn’t long at all. You had decided to stay for a bit longer, just to have some more time with her and she died the next week. You felt numb. You had no idea what to do. May came up to help you take care of the important things and mourn with you, but you ended up comforting her more than anything. You couldn’t imagine what she was feeling. Your grandma was the last person she had ties to and now that she was gone it was like a large part of her life was gone.

When you had to get on the train back home you stared at the seat across from yours, vacant where your boy should be. You sat in silence, not even letting your brain think. You had no thoughts, you hardly moved, and you had no recollection of getting back to your apartment. It was quiet. No movement at all. He wasn’t back and you were glad. Deep down you knew you couldn’t face him or anything right now. You felt a bit of hatred searing you that was directed towards him that you knew wasn’t fair. He had no obligations to you, to be there for you.

You went to the bathroom, went through your nightly routine and climbed into your sheets. You never fell asleep, not able to close your eyes and let it sweep over you. You hadn’t slept a full night since she had passed. You heard a loud thump on your fire escape and your window slid open. Your back faced the window, not wanting to see who made the noise.

Your name came from his lips, the familiar sound filled your ears. Your eyes squeezed shut and you didn’t respond, laying as still as possible, hoping that if you didn’t move he would leave. He didn’t. He said your name again, slightly louder this time, his warm hand landing on your arm.

“Leave me alone, Peter. I can’t do this right now,” you mumbled out and he didn’t respond. He turned you towards him and when you saw him, he was beaten worse than any other time you’d seen. Your eyes widened in worry, taking in his features and seeing bruises on him in places you’d never seen before. He wasn’t in his suit, but in shorts and a t-shirt.

You sat up and moved towards the edge of your bed and took in the sight before you. “When was the last time you slept? You look horrible,” was all he said as his eyes scanned over your face. You scoffed, standing up, almost flush with him.

“You wanna talk about looking horrible? Peter, I can hardly tell it’s you. What the fuck have you been doing?” He rolled his eyes, one completely bloodshot, overpowering the brown that you hadn’t seen in at least a month. The longest you had been without him since you were six.

He stood firm as all of your anger over the events of the past month bubbled up. “Where the fuck have you been, Peter? I don’t know if you know this, but my life has practically crumbled around me. You walked out on me! You left me! My grandmother died, Peter! I have been completely alone. You left me alone to deal with this. I needed you. I needed you so bad and you were just like everyone else in my life and you left me. I fucking hate you!” Hot, angry tears rolled down your face as he stood there listening to you.

His hands grabbed your arms, pulling you into his chest. You didn’t fight him, sobbing into his t-shirt as his arms wrapped around you. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you. I’m so sorry,” was all he spoke into your hair as he felt your body shaking. “I didn’t know she passed until ten minutes ago,” he whispered out. You pulled back and looked up at him, his own tears threatening to spill.

Your hands were balled into fists in his shirt, scared that if you let him go he would vanish, like this was just your overtired mind playing tricks on you. Your head tilted back to look at him and his hands gently made their way to your jaw and you leaned into his touch, eyes falling shut as his thumbs rubbed over your cheek bones.

“I’m so sorry. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. If you’ll have me, I won’t leave you again, okay? I love you and I need you, sweetheart,” his lips ghosted over yours as he spoke. He moved away from your mouth, instead placing delicate kisses on your eyelids, cheeks, nose, forehead, everywhere he could.

The battle within yourself reared its head as you thought about what you needed to do. You couldn’t deny that you loved him because you had known that for a long time. In some part of you, you knew you needed him and from the looks of him, he needed you too. You melted into his touch instantly becoming putty in his hands, letting him mold you into whatever he wanted. You knew Peter wouldn’t let you fall again. You knew he couldn’t keep fifty percent of his promises and this proved that yet again.

You peered up at him, wrapping your hands around his wrists, his hands hadn’t left your face. You thought he was pressing so deep into your skin they would leave marks, like he was dealing with the same thoughts that if he let you go, you wouldn’t come back. You kissed the inside of his wrist.

“You can’t leave me again, Parker. I’ll drop your ass so fast you won’t even know it happened,” his laugh boomed in the space, ripping a cut on his lip open, blood falling down his chin. You moved away from him, going to grab a tissue from your nightstand. Moving as gently as you could, you placed it on the cut, wiping up the blood.

“I need you to tell me what happened to you, Peter. Why do you look like this?” You whispered to him, trying to take in all of the marks that littered his entire body. “I went a little crazy for a bit,” was what he responded with, thumbs moving in circles on your neck. “I was so angry at myself I went and took it out on some criminals. Some fought back more than others,” you winced at the thought as he chuckled, trying to make light of the situation.

You moved him to sit on your bed and went to the bathroom, grabbing the tub of supplies that you hadn’t touched since he left. You moved it into the room, his eyes squinting with a smile as he saw you grab the Neosporin. “You’re gonna need a lot more of that, sweetheart,” you couldn’t fight back the smile as his hands found home on your waist, kneading at the exposed skin where your shirt had ridden up.

Peter pulled you closer to him and your hand threaded itself into his hair, the other still holding the tub of medicine. His lips kissed each of your collarbones, your eyes slipped shut at the contact, your breath stuttering. His tongue darted out, licking up your neck. You dropped the tube, letting your other hand brace itself on his shoulder.

Your head rolled to the side, letting him have better access. He laid back on the bed, pulling you with him. You leaned down, hands landing on his firm chest as his hands dragged you down to meet him. Both of your legs were spread over him, your core rubbing against the cloth of his shorts, showing how hard he was beneath you.

Your core pressed down onto his cock and he moaned. It made your heart soar, hearing him make those noises again. You were flipped onto your back so quickly, you hardly even felt the movement. His hands moved to the hem of your shirt pulling it off and placing pecks all over your exposed chest.

He took a nipple into his mouth and you arched into him. Your head fell back onto the pillow, feeling his teeth nip at the bud in his mouth, his fingers pinching your other before he switched. Whimpers fell from you as his hands moved further down, slipping into your sleep shorts and feeling the slick pooling in your pussy that was starting to drip down your thigh to your ass.

He removed his mouth from your breast and kissed down your sternum and stomach, pulling your shorts down as he went. He groaned at the sight before him, you spread open, waiting for him. His teeth nipped on the inside of either thigh before kissing his way to you. He placed a light peck to your clit that had you clenching around nothing.

His tongue licked a stripe up your pussy, his moan mixing with yours. “God, you have no idea how much I missed this sweet pussy, baby,” you gasped as he stuck two fingers into you, sucking your clit into his mouth. You writhed beneath him as he curled his fingers in you, hitting the sweet spot only he knew how to get to.

It took you no time at all to feel the budding pressure in you to know that you were close. “Pete, oh my god,” was all you could muster up to say, your chest heaving. “I know, sweetheart, c’mon, cum for me,” you felt it wash over you in waves of pleasure. Your breath caught in your throat as whimpers flowed from you, his fingers slowing down as he continued to lick up your mess.

He moved back up to you, your hands clawing at him to meet you. You tasted yourself on him and you moaned at the taste, missing him more than anything. Peter wasted no time, stripping as quickly as possible and his cock came free. Your hand closed around the base, offering a few pumps, Peter thrusting into your hand at the feeling.

“Fuck, don’t do that. I won’t last,” he chuckled as you guided him to your entrance. His head slipped in the wetness, pushing against your clit as you both hissed. He leaned down, lips on yours as he sank into you. Your jaw fell open as you felt him fill you up.

You wasted no time, wanting to feel him. “You gotta move, babe, please,” he didn’t hesitate. He pulled back, almost all the way out before pounding back in. You felt like the wind had been knocked out of you. As he started thrusting, the only sounds in the room were your moans, Peter’s grunts as he sucked marks into every piece of skin he could, and your skin hitting each other as he fucked you like you were going to leave. Peter’s words were a mix of how good you felt, how tight you were, and how you were clenching around him so tight.

His hand moved to your knee, pulling a leg up towards your chest. You let your legs come up, placing them on his shoulders, letting him hit an entirely new spot deeper in you. His hips stuttered at the new sensation, the only words you could form was his name, falling from your lips like a prayer.

You both were covered in sweat, your neck and chest were covered in purple bruises, Peter’s hair was a mess as his head tucked into the crook of your neck. “Fuck, baby I’m gonna cum,” your nails scratched down his back. “Cum for me, Peter. Cum in me,” you barely finished before he slammed into you one last time as he emptied out into you.

His fingers found your clit, rubbing tight and quick circles as he lightly kept thrusting as you tumbled over the edge, another orgasm taking you in its hold.

As you finished, he let your legs fall back down. You both fought to catch your breath as he pulled out of you, his cum dripping. His thumb pushed it back into you, not letting it seep out of you anymore, wanting to keep it in like that was where it was meant to be. His lips met yours, a deep kiss that showed how much you missed each other.

You two got up together, going to the bathroom and taking a shower with one another. He let you lean back against him, reveling in the comfort of his presence. Neither of you said a word as you washed up and went back to bed. He laid next to you, your legs tangling together, facing each other.

His hands danced across your face, thumb brushing across your cheeks. “Will you marry me?” Your eyes searched his face and you smiled, a small laugh falling from you. “Go to sleep, you’re obviously delirious,” your hand went over his eyes, feeling his eyelashes tickle your palm as his eyelids fluttered.

He moved closer to you, lips nearly touching, taking your hand in his. His smile spread as he looked at your hand. “I’m serious. I want to marry you. Will you marry me?” You bit your lip, eyes narrowing at him. “Petey, we’re nineteen,” you said, your eyes falling to see his fingers wrapping together with yours.

“I know. I know I don’t have anything to offer you, but I love you. I love you so much it hurts. When I was away from you I would’ve rather died. I can’t be without you. We’ll keep it secret, just something you and I know. We have a lot of secrets, what’s one more? I want you to marry me,” your eyes were getting blurry as you realized he was completely serious.

You nodded your head and placed your hand on his cheek. “Okay. I’ll marry you, Peter,” his eyes snapped up to yours, wide in surprise. “You’ll-you’ll marry me? Really?” you giggled and nodded through your tears. He hovered above you, kissing every inch of your face as you laughed.

The following weekend you and Peter were at the courthouse, a random witness from the street stood with you two as you stood in front of the justice of peace, pronouncing you husband and wife. Your short white poofy dress and short veil matched the occasion with Peter’s green dress pants, black button up and tie.

Your simple gold bands matched one another, yours just slightly thinner than his. His hands grabbed your jaw, pulling you into him, your hands landing on his waist as you kissed for the first time as husband and wife. You both laughed, you started jumping excitedly. “Holy shit, we just got married,” he nodded and kissed you again.

It felt right. It always did with Peter. The shy little boy you had met thirteen years ago changed your entire life. He had become your person and he always would be, no matter what. You kept looking at your hands, seeing the bands sparkle in the sun. Peter had his camera with him and he snapped so many pictures, your hands started coming up to cover the lens.

“C’mon, I need more pictures of my beautiful wife,” you giggled, asking a student leaving the library if they would snap a couple pictures of you two. Peter dipped you in one, bending down to kiss you as your leg kicked out straight, a small yelp leaving your throat. You thanked the young girl as he offered her congratulations.

Your wedding dinner ended up being your local sushi restaurant in your neighborhood that Peter craved every single week. The owner came over to congratulate you both, your waiter taking multiple photos for you two as you sat down. You both ate the caterpillar roll that never failed to make you moan as you took a bite. Peter nipped underneath your ear in the booth as you took a sip of sake. “Promise me you’ll make that noise for me tonight,” his eyebrows shot up as you rolled your eyes, pushing him away. “I’m sorry, babe, but this is the only thing that can get that noise out of me,” you put another bite in your mouth as his hands attacked your sides, making you giggle as he tickled you. “Challenge accepted.”

The following week you two sat on your couch, looking at the photos he had taken. Your eyes fell on the one the young lady had taken of you two. You bit your lip, thoughts running about the day. Your grandma would’ve been so happy for you two. But she wasn’t here for it anymore. She wouldn’t be. Guilt built up in you at the thought. Your weekly dinners with May had been tough, seeing the empty chairs that should’ve been filled with the people you loved and deserved to be there.

Peter pulled you into his side, kissing your forehead as you sniffled. “Elise would’ve loved it. She would’ve told you how beautiful you were a million times,” he chuckled looking at the photos he had taken of you. You nodded your head, wiping at your eyes and choking out a small yeah in response.

As you two laid in bed that night, sleep wasn’t coming to you. Your thoughts raced about your grandma and May. You knew May was doing well, having joined a book club and she started hanging out with some nurse friends. You thought about your mom and how she had missed another huge life event and you looked over at the sleeping man next to you.

He had a small cut on his eyebrow from his patrol the night before and your finger danced over it, waking him easily. He hummed, hand wrapping around your wrist and pulling you towards him. “You okay, sweetheart?” You nodded, hand resting on his bare chest. “Petey?” He peeked an eye open at you. “When we graduated, what did you say to my mom?” He sighed and rubbed his face with his free hand, the other laced with yours.

“Um, let’s see. I told her that she couldn’t pick and choose when she wanted to be a parent. That she needed to leave you alone and not contact you again because she had made her choice and she needed to live with it. I gave her $100 to tide her over because she was asking for a really specific amount, it was like $73 or something like that and she left. That was it, why?” You kissed under his jaw and snuggled into him.

His warm arms wrapped around you, a soft breath releasing from his lungs as he nuzzled his head into your hair, breathing in the comforting scent. “I never thanked you for that,” he chuckled and rubbed your arms. “It’s my job, baby,” you kissed his adams apple, feeling it bob beneath your lips. You didn’t say anything else as your eyes slipped closed, drifting off to sleep with the man that would do anything to protect you and keep you happy.

***

Your friends and family cheered around you as you kissed Peter, feeling him dip you in front of everyone. You giggled against his lips, clutching onto his shirt at the movement, like he would ever let you fall. May had tears streaming down her face as he stood you up, making eye contact with her as everyone clapped.

Your five year anniversary with Peter had come so fast, it was hard to wrap your head around. Life had been so hectic you could hardly keep track. Peter’s time as Spider-Man had increased tremendously over the years, but you didn’t mind. New York had Spider-Man, but you had Peter Parker. Your Peter. You didn’t have to share him with anyone and you loved that.

You had both graduated from university and you were quickly hired at a museum as an assistant curator and you loved your work. It made your heart happy and you had finally found your niche. Peter had found work with Oscorpe, his old good friend Harry getting him a great job in the lab that allowed him some freedom to dip out as needed with no explanations required.

You and Peter decided to tell May you were married a little over a year into the marriage, feeling so guilty for hiding it from her. She was furious, but so happy. She had blown up the picture of you two that the lovely student had taken and it hung in the living room proudly. On the anniversary of your grandma's death May had given you a small box of her belongings that she specified needed to go to you.

Peter was given her wedding ring to your grandfather for you to use. She said she knew you two would end up together and she had saved the ring for it. You wore it proudly with your gold band to match. She had also given you two a joint gift that was to be enjoyed together. The small beach shack that held a special place in your heart.

You two vacationed there every summer for at least two weeks and it was where on your five year anniversary you did a small dinner reception with your close friends and family on the beach, as your friends guilted you about doing an elopement without any celebrations.

You and Peter were meant to be, it had been known since that day you talked to him on the porch. He had said he knew he was in love with you that day and he just had to muster up the courage to do something about it and it only took a little over a decade. You had never connected with someone quicker than Peter. He was your other half, your confidant, and your partner in crime. When one of you appeared everyone knew the other was only half a second behind. It was how you two functioned and it was how you two would function for the rest of time.

You knew Peter Parker was destined for greatness, you just didn’t know how. But now as your eyes swept over your best friend, you knew exactly how. He was destined to be your person and you would love him for the rest of your life.

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