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moon-rivr · 3 months

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imagine Peter on a date with Mj but he forgot that the date night was “that” night of his “monthly man spider Shenanigans” so either there’s a werewolf moment or he slowly mutates.No worry Mj doesn’t get hurt they’ll reinvent the date

later time

pairing: peter parker x mary jane reader

contents: hair color specified (red), reassurance, and mutation (fur, fangs, and eight eyes 🥸)

author’s note: so i wasn’t sure what version of peter you wanted so i went ahead and just used tobey’s (sorry if that’s not what you wanted)

word count: 3.4k

The world seemed to disappear beneath your feet as you moved across the stage, the lights accentuating every movement that you made. All that mattered in this moment was you and the scene, that strive for perfection that you needed so badly. The weeks that you spent at your vocal coach's office proving themselves in this very moment. Every line that you delivered had the right amount of inflection, every line spoken with just enough volume that even those in the back could hear. Your movements halted as the music stopped, at the mercy of what the director would say about your performance.

"No," the director told you out flatly, the smile on your face fading away slowly. The clapping from the other aspiring actors quickly dimmed down at your rejection. The words didn't materialize in your head until you looked around to see that the rest of the cast was looking at you expectantly, a look of pity painted on their features. "Excuse me?" You asked, a bit dumbfounded as you stood in place. “I said no. We have plenty of girls like you. We're looking for someone younger, maybe someone blonde," the director didn't bother looking up this time before calling out the next person on stage.

After basically being forced to make your way off from the stage, you found yourself walking down Broadway. the path back home ignited a hollow feeling inside of you, seeing everyone's name up on the posters hanging on the wall except for your own. You should be used to this kind of rejection, since it's what you've managed to make of yourself during the multiple castings you've gone to. No matter how many times you got told no though, you couldn't help but feel the fresh sting coursing through your veins at knowing that you weren't good enough. You weren't good enough for your dad, not for the casting directors, and certainly not for Broadway.

Your attention was derived from the thoughts running through your head when you heard some cheering in the background, your eyes focusing on the swinging vigilante saving a kid from a burning building. The crowd burst out into cheers as spider-man set down the kid onto the pavement, a woman running over to the child and wrapping her arms around him in a protective matter. "Oh thank you, Spider-Man! You saved my little boy!" the woman exclaimed, tears streaming down her face from the sheer joy and shock running through her body. The praise flew straight to Peter's head, eagerly hugging the woman back after she'd embraced him.

You knew that you shouldn't feel this way, shouldn't feel jealous for all the attention that he received from the public. It'd taken Peter a while to stop being seen as a public menace to be seen as someone who wants to save the city. But you couldn't help feel a bit bitter at the recognition that he got from the people of New York, the way that they cheered him on like he was their idol. It only made you long for that feeling of being admired, of being the reason that someone gets excited. You shook your head as if that would get rid of the thoughts clouding your mind, making your way back home after the excitement of the scene died down.

"I got an alert that there was a pretty lady needing my help around here," you heard from above you, your boyfriend swinging upside down as he looked at you. "Really? Wonder where she is," you responded, coming closer to him as you slid his mask up to his nose. You hadn't seen Peter in a while due to your conflicting schedules, you with your acting career and him busy with school and his photography gig. He came down to the ground, holding you close to his body before sticking to a wall as a method to get back home faster. No matter how many times you do this, the sensation of being up in the air and looking down at everyone was something you'd never really get used to.

Peter set you down at the living room, sliding off his mask and starting to take off his suit. "How'd it go at the auditions? I’ve heard you rehearsing a couple times but I didn't wanna bother you," Peter inquired out of the blue, the rejection now making a forefront at the center of your brain. "Well, I got rejected. The director said I'm not exactly what they're looking for," you responded, sitting down on the couch as you rubbed your temples. You could tell that Peter was growing exhausted from being the primary provider between the two of you, since you didn't get a 9-5 job just in case an audition would open up just for you. Despite the exhaustion that he felt, he'd never say anything to discourage you from what made you happy.

"Don't worry. I'm sure you'll get your big break sometime soon," he told you as he sat down next to you, holding your hands in his own. "I just don't get what i'm doing wrong. I put my all into that performance and he said I wasn't good enough because I wasn't blonde," you told Peter, a couple tears making themselves known as they streaked your cheeks. "It's his fault for not recognizing your talent, MJ. You're perfect the way you are to me, red hair and all," he whispered, his thumb rubbing small circles on your hands. He wiped your tears away with his other hand, simply holding you until you felt better.

"I'll see you later, I have to get to class before they mark me absent again," Peter spoke up after a while, rushing to change into his streetwear. You stayed seated on the couch, looking at him as he went through the motions of getting dressed. "Do you resent me in any way?" You asked him quietly, his gaze going from the belt he was trying to buckle to your eyes. "Of course not. You're going for something that you want, I could never resent you for that," he answered you, leaning over and kissing your forehead before he grabbed his backpack. You were left at square one, having to look through different casting calls and calling the few actor friends that you'd made throughout the journey.

After a few calls, you'd come up with no results or rejection under the prose that directors were simply searching for someone else. You buried your head into your pillow to wallow over the mess that your career had turned out to be, willing yourself not to burst out crying for the second time today. Just when you were thinking about running off to a farm and raising a couple cattle to make for a profit, your phone rang in your pocket. "Hello?" Your voice came out muffled as you answered the call, expecting it to be Peter or Aunt May. "Mary-Jane Watson, right?" The director from earlier asked, already sounding unimpressed with the way this conversation was headed.

"Yeah, that's me," you managed to answer after a couple seconds, pulling the pillow off from your face and straightening yourself out as if he could tell your appearance wasn't exactly Broadway worthy right now. "So, the actress that's playing Maisie called in to say she has pneumonia. The role's yours if you wanted it, the character description fits you pretty well and it's still a pretty big supporting character," the director told you, a bit of excitement and disappointment combined flaring you up at the prospect. "Uh, sure, I can do that. When do rehearsals start?" You asked him, making a mental note of all the details that he was giving you. You were excited to have the chance to act on the big stage but you wished that it wouldn't be because someone was out sick.

Peter came back home a couple hours later, coming over to kiss your cheek once he set his backpack down. "Hey, how'd your afternoon go?" He inquired, sitting down on the couch next to you as his hand rests on your knee. "It was alright, I called in to a couple friends but they said that there weren't any rehearsals available," you responded, leaning against him a bit. "Don't stress out too badly about it, something will show up before you know it," he told you, his thumb circling around your knee. "Well, about that actually. The director from earlier called and said that i could have a role in the play. Not the role I wanted, but a role's a role," you added after a couple seconds, watching as Peter grinned down at you.

"That's amazing MJ! We should go out and celebrate," Peter told you with a smile, clasping your hands in between his. You wanted to tell him that there was nothing to be celebrated, that you were simply just a second option. That you were just taking scraps from what another actress couldn’t have. But instead, you chose to swallow those words and nod meekly at him at the suggestion. "Okay, that sounds good. Do you have someplace in mind?" You asked Peter, forcing yourself to act excited about the prospect of the dinner. "Well, I was thinking that maybe we could out to that restaurant that just opened up downtown," he replied, the place making you feel a bit nervous. You knew that you and Peter's economic status wasn't exactly the best, but you weren't gonna say anything that might embarrass him.

You simply nodded along to the suggestion, smiling as Peter kissed your forehead. "I'm just gonna go out on patrol to make sure that everything's okay before we out and relax. Is that okay with you?" He told you, waiting for you to approve before he went to put on the spidersuit. You were pretty sure he would've gone even if you said no, but he still liked to have the assurance that you'd be okay with it. You figured you still had a couple hours before he came back, choosing to go over the new lines that you'd been assigned. While rehearsals didn't start until next week, you didn't want to appear unprepared after already being the last resort.

"Hey MJ, wake up," you heard a faint voice in the background, Peter already having changed from his spidersuit into a formal suit. It was an odd sight to see him dressed up, so you took a couple moments to let the sight sink in before you stood up. "Sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep. I’m just gonna go and take a quick shower before we go," you told him, stepping off to the bathroom to hurry up and get ready. You'd fallen asleep while you were going through the process of highlighting your lines, some of the ink apparent on your cheek. You washed it off, getting in the shower to start the notions of getting ready. Despite the initial reluctance that you'd had about going out tonight and spending money, you couldn't deny that it was exciting to get dolled up.

You picked out a green dress for the night, the color matching the color of your hair perfectly. After taking your hair out of the towel, you dried it out before curling it in a beach wave style. You walked out of the bedroom after putting on a pair of heels and doing something light for your makeup, looking up at peter with a smile on your face. "How do I look?" You asked him, doing a small twirl. He walked over and wrapped his arms around your waist, just enjoying the comfort of being in your embrace for a couple seconds. Your relationship with peter had been nothing short of difficult, with the amount of breakups the two of you had under your belt, but you couldn't help but enjoy these moments between the two of you. Perhaps that's why you kept coming back for more.

"You look stunning, like someone that's definitely made for Broadway," he finally spoke up after a couple seconds, stepping back to extend his hand towards you. You grabbed his hand, following him out of the apartment. "Alright, grab on. The subway's delayed today," Peter spoke up, letting you hold onto him before he took off swinging. What would've been an hour long trip and three different subways turned into a fifteen minute adventure between the two of you. You fixed up your hair after the wind had messed it up a bit, following Peter inside the restaurant. "Hi, I have a reservation for Parker. two," Peter told the woman at the front, the two of you waiting as she scrolled through her computer to confirm.

"Alright, follow me," the waitress told the two of you, taking two menus off a stand before leading you two outside. "You'd requested a table outside, right?" The waitress asked to confirm, being met with Peter's curt nod as he pulled the chair back for you. You sat down and grabbed your menu, starting to look through the options. You couldn't help but notice just how expensive everything was at this place, your eyes drifting up from the menu up to Peter. "You sure we can afford to eat here?" You asked him quietly, not wanting to get anyone else's attention. "I wouldn't have brought you here if I couldn't afford it. Just order whatever you want without worrying about the price."

The waitress came back with the drinks the two of you had ordered, setting them down before taking out a notepad. "What would the two of you like to order?" she asked, tapping her pen against the notepad. You gave her your order first, Peter speaking up after you did. "Sounds good, I'll be back with your orders," she responded, grabbing the menus from the two of you before retreating back into the restaurant. "So how's it been going with your boss? Is Mr. Simmons still giving you a hard time?" You asked, taking a sip from your drink as you waited for his response. "Somewhat, though it's not really directed towards Peter Parker but Spider-Man instead. Really hates that guy," he responded, going on to ask you about the rehearsal you had lined up.

Peter's eyes turned into a dark shade of red in the blink of a moment, his jaw clenching tightly. It was hard to comprehend how'd he just gone from having a conversation to going into this sort of.. metamorphosis. He'd transformed into something completely foreign to you in just the span of a couple seconds, the moonlight behind the two of you only making seem to process speed up even faster. His face was now covered up in fur, fangs poking out of his mouth, and his eyes had multiplied by four. He blinked a couple times, like he wasn't sure if this was a dream or it was happening in actuality. You reached over to touch him, only to get rejected before your hand even reached him. "No, don't touch me. I'm a monster," he mumbled, his fangs obstructing most of his mouth.

Despite his current state, you could feel the embarrassment radiating off his body as he flipped the table over in a frenzy to walk away. You left behind money for the two drinks and a tip before the waitress got a chance to come back. "Sorry about the table!" You called out before taking off running in the general direction Peter had taken in. He'd managed to get away in the time you'd done the task, leaving you to look around in a frenzy for him. You approached him slowly once noticing him in an alleyway, the way that one would to a stray dog. You bent down to his level, taking his now furry hand into your own.

"Hey, it's okay. There's nothing to be embarrassed about. You're not a monster," you spoke quietly, wanting to give him some reassurance about the situation. "I'm sorry I ruined the dinner, I should've known but I've been so stressed out and caught up with all these things that I forgot," he spoke up, his voice coming out a bit garbled from the elongated fangs. "It's just a dinner, we can make it up. Come on, let's go home and wait for this to wear off," you told him, getting up and extending your hand to help him. He seemed to be doing better this time around, grabbing your hand as he got up from the dirty floor. The discarded dinner was the last thing on your mind at the moment, all you cared about was getting Peter somewhere he felt comfortable being.

The two of you took an alternative way home to avoid attracting anyone's attention, the way back home silent apart from a couple crickets chirping in the background. "So.. how long has this been going on?" You asked him after a while, wanting to understand more about his situation. "It's been going on since the symbiote morphed with me, usually I am aware of the calendar of when the symptoms come back. But I've been busy working extra shifts to take you out to dinner," he responded after a couple seconds, making you feel slightly guilty for how hard he's been pushing himself. "I'll get a job if it doesn't work out this time," you promised him, being met with eight eyes in response.

"You're not gonna do that, you're not gonna give up on what you want," he whispered, making you feel comfortable despite the state he was in. All the initial jealousy that you felt towards him faded away at seeing what he truly dealt with as Spider-Man, that he was much more miserable than he liked to portray. "Is there anything I can do to make this process easier for you?" You asked him, handing him a bottle of water from the fridge. "It doesn't hurt or anything, all there is to wait it out. I am a bit hungry though," he responded, almost sounding a bit guilty that he was burdening you with the mess. "I'll make you something, just sit there a sec."

You walked into the kitchen and put the skills that you'd attained working at the diner, making him a grilled chicken sandwich with a couple of fries. You set down the plate for him, sitting down on the opposite side. An idea occurred to you in that moment, grabbing a candle that you'd bought earlier this month during a sale and lighting it up between the two of you. "It's not a fancy dinner, but it'll do for now," you spoke up when he looked up from his plate, taking a bite out of your sandwich. "Thank you. for being understanding about all this. I know it's not everyday that you see your boyfriend turn into a man-spider."

"Well it's a nice change from Spider-Man," you responded light-heartedly as you dipped your fries into ketchup. The dinner between the two of you was nicer that you could've imagined, despite the fact that it didn't end the way you thought it would've. You stayed by his side throughout the whole process, watching intently just in case he had the urge to go outside or anything. he held you in his embrace, the fur covering his body adding to his body warmth as he made you comfortable. "It's almost Harry's anniversary," he spoke up after a while, his voice sounding somber. "We'll go out to the cemetery and put some roses down. Just worry about yourself right now," you told him, your hand intertwined with his. "I love you. I'm sorry I don't tell you often."

"I know. Your actions speak louder than you do," you told him, slowly starting to doze off just from how comfortable and at peace you were in that moment. Peter stayed quiet after you said that, his hand gently tracing up and down your arm as the two of you slowly started to grow more sleepy. "I love you too, by the way. I never tell you that enough and I'm sorry for the way that I act towards you," you told him, wanting to convey just how much you cared about him in this moment given how vulnerable he was. "I know, don't worry. Your actions are pretty loud too."

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