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#there's some captions if you're wondering why i picked some scenes
alwayzraven · 23 days
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Kardeşlerim Ep 125
Ayla returned to her house with the bag of money she took from Gokhan. When Berk went back home, he was so excited to see her. Ayla told him that she managed to get back all the money Gokhan took from them and then told Berk about her plan with Akif. She told Berk to not let his father back into the house if he comes back and Berk told her that of course he won’t do that after everything that happened. The next day, Gokhan showed up to Berk’s house. He told him that Ayla and Akif stole "their money". Berk told him that he knows what kind of person he is now. He told him that he heard everything he told his friend. Gokhan told him that they lied to him. He told him to give him a chance and Berk told him that he already did after he sold him as a baby. Gokhan saw how determined Berk was so he decided to leave but Berk stopped him and told him to give him his car keys because the car belonged to the company which belonged to him. I was waiting for this scene to happen since we discovered that his father was a piece of trash. It was so satisfying to watch!
Aybike decided to knit a sweater for Berk to give it to him on his birthday. She brought it with her to school and was watching a tutorial on how to knit during the break. She stayed up late at night to try and finish it but she couldn’t. When she woke up the next day, she saw that the sweater was completed and thought that her grandmother finished it but it was Ayten. Later at school, Aybike gave Berk. He was so excited to open it. 
Berk:”Did you buy me a sweater?”
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Aybike:”I didn’t buy it. I knitted it.”
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Berk:”What? Did you really knit it?”
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Aybike:”Yes. So this is what happened, you can tell anyway, I knitted the back, then I fell asleep, I was having a hard time, but then Aunt Ayten knitted the front. It’s obvious. The front is beautiful but the back doesn’t look good.”
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Berk:”No, my love, it's very beautiful. I don't see any difference. Besides, it is signed by you.”
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Berk:” did my beautiful girlfriend knit a sweater for me, stitch by stitch, with her tiny hands?”
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Aybike:”Yes”
Berk:”Thank you so much”
Aybike:”Happy birthday. I am lucky to have you. I'm glad you're in my life.”
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Berk:”I am lucky to have you, my love. I'm glad you came into my life.”
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Then Berk tried the sweater and asked her how he looked.
Aybike:” I will like it even if you wear a sack. That's why I can't make an objective comment.”
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Berk:”Look, look, look at the way you’re speaking. Ma'am, you seem to like me a lot.”
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Aybike: “Sir, I don’t like you, I love you.”
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Berk was very satisfied with that answer.
Berk:"What am I going to do about that sweet tongue of yours? my ego is boosted."
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Aybike:"I noticed!"
Berk got a text from his mother’s lawyer. She said she couldn’t reach her. Berk was worried about his mom’s trial. Then, Berk told Aybike that they will go somewhere nice in the evening. She told him that they should go early so she can get back home early because her dad gets annoyed whenever he gets mentioned these days. I wonder where they are going with this “Orhan hates Berk for no reason” plot???
Berk picked up Aybike later in the evening. They didn’t show us their date but they both looked so good, especially Aybike. Berk told her that she looks so beautiful “as always”. Berk told her that they should take pictures. He posted their pictures on IG with the caption “celebrating my birthday with my girlfriend”.
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Back at Ayla’s house, Elif came to pick up some of her stuff. Ayla told her that she will drive her back to her friend's place. Gokhan was hiding and when he saw them leave he tried to get into the house. He tried the keys he had but it turns out Ayla changed the locks which was smart of her. Gokhan then picked the lock and got into the house. Earlier, Gokhan remembered that he saw a safe in the house and he memorized the password and that’s why he broke into the house but just like the locks, the password was changed. Ayla forgot her driving license so she went back home to get it and Elif waited for her in the car. Gokhan heard the front door open and realized that Ayla came back. He attacked her and pushed her on a table where she hit her head. Elif couldn’t wait anymore and rang the door. Gokhan tried to hide his face with the mask and opened the door and ran away. Elif was startled, then she saw Ayla on the floor and went to check up on her. Elif was crying and trying to wake her up. Berk came back home and was shocked to see his mother unconscious. He told Aybike to call an ambulance.  
I hope Ayla is going to be okay. Gokhan has to be arrested for this and I imagine that Ayla will press charges when she wakes up. I hope Elif will come back home after this.
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waverlyearpe · 7 years
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clana + you are my sunshine lyrics (clark's POV) requested by ohifonlyx33 
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babygirlkiki1016 · 4 years
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The Hunt Begins
When we got to Stanford Dean told me just to wait outside by the Impala. About twenty minutes later I hear voices coming from the building. I see Dean take a glance at me to see if I was still there. Sam was saying something but Dean just rolls his eyes.
"The weapon training, and melting the silver into bullets? Man, Dean, we were raised like warriors." I heard Sam say as they cross the parking lot to the Impala.
"So what are you gonna do? You're just gonna live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it?" Dean growls.
"No. Not normal. Safe." 
"And that's why you ran away." Dean looks away.
"I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing."
"Yeah, well, Dad's in real trouble right now. If he's not dead already. I can feel it." Sam is silent.
"I can't do this alone."
"Yes you can." I joke, making both of the boys look at me. 
"Yeah, well, as Y/n pointed out earlier which you weren't here for, I don't want to."
"Wait, that's Y/n? Y/D/N's kid?" Sam asked surprised. "You brought his kid here?! Do you know what he's going to do to us when he realizes she's missing!?"
"Uh I believe he already knows." I interrupt.
"Look, she wanted to come so I didn't stop her besides she's eighteen." Dean points out. Sam sighs and looks down, thinking, then up.
"What was he hunting?" Sam asked as Dean opens the trunk of the Impala, then the spare-tire compartment, it's an arsenal.
"Holy crap this is cool!" I exclaimed as Dean props the compartment open with a shotgun and digs through the clutter.
"I know right? All right, let's see, where the hell did I put that thing?"
"So when Dad left, why didn't you go with him?" Sam asks.
"I was working my own gig. This, uh, voodoo thing, down in New Orleans."
"Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?" Dean looks over at Sam.
"I'm twenty-six, dude."
"And then you went to Y/D/N for help?"
"That's about right, she offered to help cause her father wouldn't." Dean pulls some papers out of a folder. "All right, here we go. So Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy." Dean hands one of the papers to Sam, I look over his shoulder to see. "They found his car, but he vanished. Completely MIA. The paper is a printout of an article from the Jericho Herald, headlined Centennial Highway Disappearance and dated Sept. 19th 2005; it has a man's picture, captioned Andrew Carey MISSING." Sam reads it and glances up.
"So maybe he was kidnapped."
"Yeah. Well, here's another one in April." Dean hands me a Jericho Herald article for each date he mentions. "Another one in December 'oh-four, 'oh-three, 'ninety-eight, 'ninety-two, ten of them over the past twenty years." Dean takes the article's back from us and picks up the rest of the stack, putting them back in the folder. "All men, all the Same five-mile stretch of road." Dean pulls a bag out of another part of the arsenal. "It started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. I hadn't heard from him since, which is bad enough." He grabs a handheld tape recorder. "Then I get this voicemail yesterday." He presses play, the recording is staticky and the signal was clearly breaking up.
"Dean...something big is starting to happen...I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger...and if you can...Y/D/N's kid." Dean presses stop.
"Wait...he mentioned me." I say silently.
"What does dad want with Y/n?" Sam asks.
"I don't know that's why I went to your dad. So whatever is going on, obviously your part of it."
"Well other than the creepy message involving me, you know there's EVP on that?" I said.
"Not bad, Y/n. Kinda like riding a bike, isn't it?" Sam shakes his head. "All right. I slowed the message down, I ran it through a gold wave, took out the hiss, and this is what I got." He presses play again.
"I can never go home..." Was the voice that was heard, Dean presses stop.
"Never go home." Sam comments, trying to think what it could mean. Dean drops the recorder, puts down the shotgun, stands straight, and shuts the trunk, then leans on it. "You know, in almost two years I've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing." Sam looks away and sighs, then looks back. "All right. I'll go. I'll help you find him." Sam submits, Dean nods. "But I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here." Sam turns to go back to the apartment but turns back when Dean speaks.
"What's first thing Monday?" 
"I have this...I have an interview."
"What, a job interview? Skip it."
"It's a law school interview, and it's my whole future on a plate."
"Law school?" Dean smirks.
"So we got a deal or not?" Dean says nothing, Sam turns back around and heads back into the building.
"Your brother is certainly...not happy." I look over at Dean who shrugs.
"Eh he'll get over it." Dean smirks and gets back in the car, Dean maybe be smiling but I have a bad feeling about this.
~
Dean comes out of the convenience mart carrying junk food. Sam is sitting in the shotgun seat with the door open, rifling through a box of tapes as I was sitting in the back with the window down. I don't know what he's looking for but it must be important.
"Hey!" Dean says with a smile on his face. Sam leans out and looks at him. "You want breakfast?"
"No, thanks."
"Y/n? I got you coffee, along with some biscuits." He hands me the food.
"Thanks...." I say and take the food from him. "So how'd you pay for that stuff?" Sam  asks. "You and Dad still running credit card scams?" 
"Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro ball career." Dean puts the nozzle that he left running while he went inside back on the pump. "Besides, all we do is apply. It's not our fault they send us the cards."
"Yeah? And what names did you write on the application this time?" Sam swings his legs back inside the car and closes the door.
"Uh, Burt Aframian." Dean gets into the driver seat and puts his soda and chips down.
"And his son Hector. Scored two cards out of the deal."
"That's pretty smart, man I wish I thought of that. Then I wouldn't have had to get a job." I joke as Dean closes the door, Sam looks back at me then at Dean.
"Only a few days and your already a bad influence on her." Sam chuckles. "I swear, man, you've gotta update your cassette tape collection." From what I could see there are at least a dozen cassettes in the box on Sam's lap; some have album art, others are hand-labeled.
"Why?" Dean asked.
"Well, for one, they're cassette tapes. And two." Sam holds up a tape for every band he names. "Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica?" Dean takes the box labeled Metallica from Sam. "It's the greatest hits of mullet rock."
"And that's probably why he has them." I interrupt while sipping my coffee.
"Well, house rules, Sammy." Dean pops the tape in the player. "Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole." Dean drops the Metallica box back in the box of tapes and starts the engine.
"Wait." Sammy looks back at me as Dean drives off. "Why does she get coffee?"
"Well I asked her what she wanted and she told me."
"You didn't ask me...."
"Suck it up Sammy." Sam made a pouty face, I look down at my coffee then back at him. I reach forward and politely offer him some which Dean notices.
"Aw look at that she's willing to share."
"Shut up." Sam said with a blush on his face as he slowly took my cup.
~
   Sam is talking on his cell phone. "Thank you." He says then closes his phone. "All right. So, there's no one matching Dad at the hospital or morgue."
"Well at least we know he's ok." I said, making Sam nod in agreement.
"That's something, I guess." Dean glances over at us, then back at the road. At a bridge ahead of them, there are two police cars and several officers. 
"Woah, I wonder what happened." I wondered as Sam leans forward for a closer look, Dean pulls over. We take a long look before Dean turns off the engine. Dean opens the glove compartment and pulls out a box full of ID cards with his and John's faces. Visible ones include FBI and DEA. He picks one out and grins at Sam, who stares.
"Let's go."  Dean gets out of the car and me and Sam follow pursuit. On the bridge, the lead Deputy, leans over the railing to yell down to two men in wetsuits who were poking around the river.
"You guys find anything?" He yells.
"No! Nothing!" The other man who was below us replied. The deputy turns back to the car in the middle of the bridge. Another Deputy, is at the driver's side looking around inside the car. The three of us walk into the crime scene, I felt out of place but the brothers acted like they belong there.
"You fellas had another one like this just last month, didn't you?" Dean asks as the first Deputy looks up when he starts talking and straightens up to talk to him.
"And who are you?" Dean flashes his badge. "Federal marshals."
"You three are a little young for marshals, aren't you? Especially the girl." Dean laughs. "Thanks, that's awfully kind of you." Dean goes over to the car. "You did have another one just like this, correct?"
"Yeah, that's right. About a mile up the road. There've been others before that."
"So, this victim, you knew him?" Sam questioned, Jaffe, as it says on his name tag, nods.
"Town like this, everybody knows everybody." Dean circles the car, looking around.
"...And that is why I hate small towns." I state. "Any connection between the victims, besides that they're all men?"
"Uh N-No. Not so far as we can uh tell."
"So what's the theory? I'm thinking insane hitchhiker." Sam goes over to Dean as I keep the deputy busy.
"Honestly, we don't know. Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?"
"Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys." Dean insults, Sam stomps on his foot.
"Thank you for your time." I say and the three of us head back to the Impala. Jaffe watches us go but I could the two talking.
"She's a pretty one ain't she?" Jaffe mentions, I ignored him, pervert I thought. Dean smacks Sam on the head, catching my attention.
"Ow! What was that for?" Sam grumbled.
"Why'd you have to step on my foot?"
"Why do you have to talk to the police like that?" Dean looks at Sam and moves in front of him, forcing Sam to stop walking.
"Come on. They don't really know what's going on. We're all alone on this. I mean, if we're going to find Dad we've got to get to the bottom of this thing ourselves." Sam clears his throat and looks over Dean's shoulder. Dean turns to see a Sheriff and two FBI agents.
"Can I help you boys?" The sheriff asks.
"No, sir, we were just leaving." I smile at them, giving them some reassurance and walk past the three men. Dean and Sam head past the Sheriff, who turns to watch us go.
~
Later we decided to go talk to this young woman, the second deputy's daughter I believe. As we walk up the street the marquee on the Highland Movie Theater reads in big bold letters: EMERGENCY TOWN HALL MEETING SUNDAY 8 PM BE SAFE OUT THERE. Below that a young woman is tacking up posters with Troy, the missing boy's face and the caption "Missing Troy Squire". The three of us approach.
"I'll bet you that's her." Dean says
"Well no shit sherlock, if course it's her." I joke, the boys turn towards me.
"Listen sweetheart you may be helping us, but that doesn't give you the right to curse."
"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say shit, fuck, crap. Sorry!" I giggle, making Sam smirk. Dean ignores me and walks up to the young woman.
"You must be Amy." Dean points out.
"Yeah." She says as she looks towards us. "Yeah, Troy told us about you. We're his uncles. I'm Dean, this is Sammy and that's-" Dean was saying, trying to think on what I should be. "-my girlfriend Y/n." I give him a weird look and so does Sam, girlfriend? I thought. He couldn't have gone with sister or something?
"He never mentioned you to me." Amy walks away as the three of us tag along.
"Well, that's Troy, I guess. We're not around much, we're up in Modesto."
"We never really talk to Troy much, teenager's these days. Never wanna hang out with the adults." I chimes in as another young woman, comes up to Amy and puts a hand on her arm.
"Hey, are you okay?" She asks, while eyeing the three of us.
"Yeah." Amy replies.
"Do you mind if we ask you a couple questions?" I asked. "You probably know my nephew to be better then I do."
"Woah trying to get married already babe" Dean jokes as he puts an arm around my shoulder. "I thought the man asks the woman?"
"Well, 'darling' technically I am the one who is the man in this relationship." Sam and the two girls try not to giggle.
~
The five of us are sitting in a booth, Dean and Sam opposite Amy and Rachel while I'm sitting at the end of the table with a normal chair. The chair was turned away from the table as I was facing the four if them.
"So...Amy." I start. "What happened the night Troy disappeared?"
"I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and...he never did."
"He didn't say anything strange?" Sam asks, Amy shakes her head.
"No. Nothing I can remember."
"I like your necklace." I state, Amy holds the pendant she's wearing, a pentagram in a circle, and looks down at it.
"Troy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents-" Amy laughs. "-with all that devil stuff.
"Do you know where he got it?"
"Um...no actually."
Sam laughs a little and looks down, then up.
"Actually, it means just the opposite. A pentagram is protection against evil. Really powerful. I mean, if you believe in that kind of thing." Sam says.
"Okay. Thank you, Unsolved Mysteries."
Dean jokes, takes his arm off the back of Sam's seat and leans forward. "Here's the deal, ladies. The way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So if you've heard anything..." Amy and Rachel look at each other. "What is it?"
"Well, it's just... I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk." Rachel, the other girl says. Dean and Sam speak in chorus. "What do they talk about?"
"It's kind of this local legend. This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago." Dean looks at Sam, who watches Rachel attentively, nodding. "Well, supposedly she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever."
"So let me guess you believe in this so called legend?" I ask.
"It's a possibility, you never know." Sam and Dean look at each other.
Considering that Rachel mentioned this legend, we made a trip to the library. Dean was in the computer with a web browser open to the archive search page for the Jericho Herald. The words "Female Murder Hitchhiking" are typed into the search box. Dean clicks go; the screen tells him there are "(0) Result". Dean replaces "Hitchhiking" with "Centennial Highway" with the same response.
"Your not gonna find anything in the internet. You gotta go old school." I point out.
Sam sighs, who is sitting next to him, watching.
"Let me try." He offered, Dean smacks Sam's hand.
"I got it." Sam shoves Dean's chair out of the way and takes over. "Dude!" Dean hits Sam in the shoulder. "You're such a control freak."
"You two are definitely brothers." I giggle, the boys just shake there heads. I push both of them out of the way "If you want to find a spirit, you gotta go dark. Angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?"
"Yeah." Dean agrees.
"Well, it's not murder." I replace "Murder" with "Suicide" and find an article entitled "Suicide on Centennial". Both if the boys seemed surprised. I open the article, dated April 25, 1981, I read what the article had to say. "A local woman's drowning death was ruled a suicide, the county Sheriff's Department said earlier today. Constance Welch, 24, of 4636 Breckenridge Road, leapt off Sylvania Bridge, at mile 33 of Centennial Highway, and subsequently drowned last night. Deputy J. Pierce told reporters that, hours before her death, Ms. Welch logged a call with 911 emergency services. In a panicked tone, Ms. Welch described how she found her two young children, 5 and 6, in the bathtub, after leaving them alone for several minutes. I continued to skim the article. " Here this is what the husband said, What happened to my children was a terrible accident. And it must have been too much for my wife. Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it. Now I ask that you all please respect my privacy during this trying time."
"So she committed suicide." Sam says. "Good job Y/n."
"Quiet there's more. At the time of the children's death and Ms. Welch's subsequent suicide, Mr. Welch was at the Frontier auto salvage yard, where he works the graveyard shift as associate manager. Connie might have been quiet, but she was the sweetest, most caring girl I ever knew, said Deanna Kripke, a neighbor. She just doted on those children."
Dean raises his eyebrows.
"Hm. The bridge look familiar to you?" Dean asks.
~
The three of us walk along the bridge, then stop to lean on the railing and look down at the river.
"So this is where Constance took the swan dive." Dean states.
"So you think Dad would have been here?" Sam asks.
"If your dad was here then he would've stopped the spirit right?" I wondered.
"Well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him."
"Okay, so now what?"
"Now we keep digging until we find him. Might take a while." Sam stops and looks at Dean.
"Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by Monday-" Dean turns around.
"Monday. Right. The interview."
"Yeah."
"Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become some Lawyer? Marry your girl?"
"Maybe. Why not?"
"Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?" Sam steps closer, I could tell a fight was about to break out.
"No, and she's not ever going to know."
"Well, that's healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are."
Dean turns around and keeps walking, Sam follows.
"Guys c'mon we got more important things to do." I state.
"Stay out of this Y/n!" Both of them say at the same time.
"Who am I really Dean?" Sam says.
"You're one of us." Sam hurries to get in front of Dean.
"No. I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life."
"You have a responsibility to-"
"To Dad? And his crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back." Dean grabs Sam by the collar and shoves him up against the railing of the bridge. Instantly I push Dean back, he begins to protest.
"Y/n-"
"No enough out of both of you. Focus, look if San wants out if this life then so be it. You can't change that, I may not know much about what you guys do for a living but I know damn well I wouldn't want to be hunting monsters all the time."
"What do you mean don't know much about what we do?" Sam questioned, clearly aggravated. "You brought her into this!"
"She decided this not me! I gave her the offer to walk away!"
"That wasn't her decision to make! If Y/D/N kept her out if this then you shouldn't have brought her with you!"
"She's eighteen! She can do whatever the hell she wants!"
"No Dean she's not eighteen! She's seventeen! She doesn't turn eighteen till (your birthday)." Dean looks at me, clearly surprised that I lied. However I wasn't paying attention, the spirit of Constance was standing at the edge of the bridge.
"Uh guys." The boys forget there argument and stand infront of me, like I'm something to be protected. Consance looks over at them, then steps forward off the edge. We run to the railing and look over.
"Where'd she go?" I asked.
"I don't know." Sam said, then behind us, the Impala's engine starts and its headlights come on, catching our attention.
"What the-who the fuck is driving your car!?" Dean pulls the keys out of his pocket and jingles them. The car jerks into motion, heading straight for them.
"Run!" I yell. The car is moving faster than we are, when it gets too close, the boys dive over the railing but it was to late for me.
The New Hunter Masterlist
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petersmparker · 5 years
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Clutch pt 7 (Peter Parker x Reader)
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Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Summary: This is the first time Peter has spoken to you since he’d kissed you in the alley, and he can’t help but be surprised.
Word Count: 1868
A/N: woo! long time coming, huh? thanks to everyone following this series for their patience! we’re one week into the semester and college is already beating me into submission. did someone say “five classes that assign almost 50 pages of reading due for every class”?? Love you all for sticking w me!!! I’ll promise the next one will be out faster- it’s already written for editing!! ps, tumblr literally won’t allow a cut, so I’m sorry to anyone who has to scroll past this
INTRO PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5 PART 6 PART 7 PART 8
It's nearly a week until Peter sees you again due to careful avoidance in the halls and an unfortunate streak of petty crime a distance from your usual routes. Even despite the heated kiss that had been exchanged and his decision to share with you the name behind Spider-Man, he worries that it would be unwise to approach you outside of the suit, and the sight of you in school makes his heart do flips that leave him flustered and distracted for an admittedly embarrassing amount of time.
Because of this, the week passes with some anxiety and nerves. Peter isn't exactly sure how to make odds or ends of what had occurred between you. The kiss had been wonderful- something he had dreamed of without the nerve to actually hope for it. Moreover, it was his first. He wondered if it was yours too, or if you minded that it was him.
Well. Not him, he supposed. Spider-Man. He knew that you felt nothing for him personally, but rather his superhero alter ego. You knew very little about him, after all, besides his name. There wasn’t much he’s been able to share. But if you did, Peter wondered, would you see something in him worth caring about?
Five days in, as Peter goes through the motions of dinner, he fights the urge to admit to May what had occurred. To just talk about it, maybe get some advice. The thoughts rattle in his brain nonstop, keeping him in a near-constant state of “What now?”. But he meets her eye over her container of takeout as she digs a piece of broccoli out from under her rice, and can’t seem to do it. Not yet. Not until things are clearer.
As he climbs into bed, he once again replays the kiss in his mind for the millionth time, hoping to hell that his fixation isn’t breeding false hope.
The next day, Peter decides to swing through the street where his fight had occurred to survey the damage repair. It was something he, unfortunately, was becoming accustomed to doing after putting himself on the radar of higher level criminals the year before. The guilt always struck him when he viewed a shattered glass storefront or a torn apart corner of a building. No matter how hard he tried, sometimes the damage control got away from him.
Seeing the closed-up mini mart is just like every other time, and it feels terrible.
Despite that, the guilty thoughts circling Peter's brain come to a dead stop the moment he lays eyes on you again. Overcoming them was nervousness. Embarrassment, even, as he recalled just how much you'd been at the center of his mind for the past week.
You’re walking along the far side of the street, gazing up at what is left of the shop. The busted-out window is covered in several layers of plastic, wood planks, and cardboard. While the police tape is long gone, the word CLOSED is clearly displayed on the front door- as if the mess of a window isn’t enough of a clue.
As Peter watches, you move on toward a telephone pole to read a sheet of paper that had been stapled to it. After a few moments, you tear it off and stride, agitatedly, in the direction of an alley that he knows all too well. For a brief second Peter wants to assume that you’ll just walk past it. Surely you aren't going to return to The Place It Happened and cause the impending conversation to be even more awkward than it was already going to be.
You turned into the alley, and with a sigh, Peter jumps from the roof he had been perched upon to meet you there. He touches down next to you, startling you only slightly when he attempts to casually say hello and reach for the flyer in your hand.
"Jesus," you gasp, yanking the paper away from him in your exasperated surprise, "Part of me had a feeling you'd show up, but I still wasn't prepared. Maybe you need a bell around your neck."
Peter accepts the now-offered flyer and tries not to shiver when you gently brush a finger against his throat for emphasis. "Ah, well," he starts, somewhat awkwardly, "That might ruin the element of surprise a bit, you know? The bad guys would hear me. Mr. Stark might have to fire me. And in this economy?"
"Spider-Man gets paid?" You ask, bewildered.
"God, no," he says quickly, "This suit is payment enough. And he gave me all this nice stuff I couldn't afford, I- I'd never ask for more."
With a gentle laugh, you place a hand on his arm. "You're a good guy. Really. It makes the shit this reporter is spreading all the more ridiculous," you say with finality, gesturing toward the flyer he still hadn't read.
Pictured was Spider-Man in the midst of his criminal sendoff. Shards of glass are flying across the whole photograph, and the look on the man’s face is one of complete terror. The caption reads, SPIDERMAN: HERO? OR PUBLIC MENACE?
"Oh," Peter says, dejectedly, "I can't really argue that, can I?"
In a quick movement, you rip the flyer out of his hands, crumple it, and toss it toward the open lid of the nearest dumpster.
"Spider-Man," you say firmly, commanding him to hear you, to listen, and Peter’s surprised by the seriousness of your tone.
Your voice lowers in volume when you say, "Peter," and take his hands in your own, and he nearly melts.
"Everything you do is for the good of others. You've saved people's lives before. Put your own in danger to do it. That flyer is slander. Nothing more. No one in their right mind will believe this, and you, you damn intelligent boy, you should know better than to buy into it, either."
"The damage-" Peter starts, before you raise a hand over the mouth area of his mask.
"Nothing was destroyed, Peter. The infrastructure is sound. It was a single window. It can be replaced. Lives can't be replaced,” you assert, squeezing your  eyes shut tight when you continue to say, “With the way I was reacting, I- I probably would have been shot. You stopped that from happening.”
"But. . ." he starts, muffled against your hand, before he realizes that he doesn’t know what to say.
Your other hand comes up so that you can gently hold the sides of his face. The touch sends shivers up Peter’s spine. He’s sure you can feel it when it shakes him, and he’d be embarrassed if he weren’t so entranced by your eyes now that they’ve reopened. You stare into the eyes of his mask, almost as if you can actually see his face.
Your voice fills with what Peter thinks is gratitude when you say, "I would be dead if it weren't for you."
A tension-filled moment passes in which he reels, mind flitting to a hundred different places, before it lands on a terrible thought.
"Is that why you were willing to kiss me?" Peter asks, tentatively.
Surprised, your hands fall away for a brief second, before coming back, holding him tighter than before. "No," you say, definitively, "I would have kissed back no matter what you had done. I'm glad you gave me the opportunity."
With your words, the anxiety slips away from Peter all at once. The fear of rejection is sapped out of him, the concern that he had overstepped his boundaries, the sinking feeling he got every time he thought about how he left afterward. He is left with a balloon in his chest inflating too quickly. It fills with happiness, relief, and affection. It takes his breath away.
In his joy, Peter forgets who he is. Not unlike the first time, he surges forward, arms wrapping around your lower back to pull you forward. He leans in to kiss you, and realizes once he meets your mouth with his own that he's Spider-Man. Not Peter. The mask is still on. His embarrassment is horrific, and had you not burst into delighted laughter Peter may have left the country then and there.
"That- that was so dumb," he says, awkwardly, reaching up to hide his face as if the mask didn't always hide his blush, "I'm sorry. That was- oh man."
You pull him down to plant a kiss on his cheek, paying no mind to the mask that has thwarted his attempt at affection. "This is why," you explain, stopping to press a second quick kiss to the mouth of his mask, "You ask if I kissed back because you saved me? I kissed back because in the little time I've known you, you've been funny. And you've been kind, and brave. What more could I have done, besides feel something for you?"
Peter calms slowly, the heat of embarrassment being replaced by a different kind of warmth. A lovely, comfortable one. The urge to tell you who he really is- more than just his name- bowls him over like a tidal wave, potential ramifications be damned. He opens his mouth to do so when a voice at the entrance of the alley says, "Hey, it's Spider-Man!"
Peter turns to see someone who appears to have stumbled upon the alley at the worst possible time. While you hadn't heard them speak, his hearing is far better. You don’t turn until after he’s faced the unwelcome arrival.
Luckily, thinks Peter as he attempts to emote as much disdain as possible without moving, it's just you. Ned waves at the scene you’ve made in the alleyway, unaware of the context of your meeting or the true presence of you in his life.
"Hello there," he adds, when neither of you respond. His tone implies that he's picked up on something, but Peter isn't sure what that is.
"Uh, hello," Peter answers, unsure of what to say.
Ned looks between the two of you slowly. "Is... everything okay?" He asks, seemingly unaware of how odd it is for a civilian to ask if Spider-Man is alright, whether or not he secretly knows him personally.
His eyes flick downward to your hands, still cupping Peter’s jaw.
"Yes!" Peter exclaims, backing away from you, "Everything is fine! In fact, I should probably be going, now that everything is fine."
"Oh?" His best friend questions in response.
"Absolutely," you say slowly, picking up on Peter’s tone.
Ned nods, but his expression clearly states that he is both skeptical and confused. In a moment of eye contact, Peter realizes that you know there's something going on, too. Maybe even that the person who has stumbled upon you and him knows something. The prospect of it is vaguely terrifying. He can feel you continue to stare at him long after he’s turned back to Ned, searching for the words to say, and is sure that you’re searching his body language and the squint of his eyepieces for answers. His posture falls from rigid to defeated.
Peter turns to look back at you, reaching toward you to grab your hand. He stops halfway, thinking better of the action before he’s spoken to Ned. You almost reach out to meet it, but you stop too, centimeters away.
"I have to go," he says, voice laced with apologies and explanations he can’t fully give to you right now, "I'll... I'll see you. I'm sorry."
You smile reassuringly. "See you, Spider-Man."
After a long moment, he turns away. After nodding toward Ned, still watching from the end of the alleyway, he takes a huge leap into the air and swings away. Maybe he’s mistaken, but he’s sure that he can hear Ned offer a quick, I guess I’ll see you later? to you before he runs off.  
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