#wasn't gifted but in what world is playing piano or violin indicative of being gifted

[dancing-in-a-yellow-dress]

Broken Perfection (1)

Reader x Peter Parker (platonic)

Trigger warning: self hatred, neglection, physical abuse, manipulation, mental abuse, bullying, perfectionism, gifted kid burnout

Word count: 1400 (roughly)

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(If you want to get into mood, go listen to the song She Used To Be Mine)

She's imperfect, but she tries

She is good, but she lies

She is hard on herself

She is broken and won't ask for help

--

You were a rich mean girl, no other way to put it. However, every coin has two sides. Your father owned a big business in the housing market and your mother was a famous lawyer, so time spent together with your family was few and far between. As an only child your parents were adamant you had to be the golden one. You'd been taught in etiquette "proper" manners since before you could walk, and your mother had made you pick up ballet and playing violin to "strengthen character" and teach discipline. Everything had to be perfect. Your father wasn't a patient nor kind man and being anything less than the best usually had dire consequences. More than once you'd come home from dance recitals with the award for second place, to face your mothers disappointment and fathers rage. The next day you went to school in a turtleneck and a bit stronger makeup than usual.

You had been a quick learner all of your life, jumping from one gifted -program to another, always the best in your class. That was until you started high school in Midtown High. There you were still above average, and almost at the top of the list, but in your family almost had never been enough. Every time you’d bring home a paper your parents would ask you if anyone had gotten a better grade than you and the answer would always be the same. And you hated yourself for it. And even more you hated yourself for how you took it out on them. Ned Leeds, Peter Parker and Michelle Jones didn't deserve any of the shit you threw at them and you knew it well. You just happened to be living in survival mode, doing anything to avoid getting hurt again, even hurting others.

--

It wasn't a nice day. You'd failed your math test miserably only getting a B- and for that reason your focus had been somewhere else during your ballet dress rehearsal. Your mother had watched from the front row as you'd struggled with basic jumps and tumbled out of a pirouette beats before you were supposed to. The fact that your mother had left mid performance was indicator enough on what you would be facing at home, so now you were stalling. Dreading going home you decided to take a longer route through a park you new to be somewhat safe even after dark. Walking along the path listening to the city night trying to silence your thoughts you came upon a gazebo, and since no one was around and you really didn't want to go home you put her earbuds on, took off your shoes and tied on your old dead ballet slippers.

As the soft yet stormy sound of piano flooded your ears you let go of the worries at hand and let the movement flow through your body. You let the music guide your movements through many improvised sequences, until chance intervened. The mix you'd been listening to threw a curveball at you in the form of She Used To Be Mine, and suddenly the weight of the world was washing over you. How you enjoyed and felt things before everything became a matter of life and death. Oh how the time flies. You covered your face with your hands and fell to your knees, tears streaming down your face. 16 years of pretending and keeping your shit together, you were bound to be allowed to break.

--

Peter Parker was on Spiderman duty and as the night had been remarkably quiet so far he decided to have a quick break in a park, consequentially the same park you were stalling in. As he was swinging from the trees he saw the girl in the pavilion and sat on branch to watch her. It was dark, so he had some trouble getting a good look at the girl's face, but eventually he recognized your sharp features. He was just about to get back on patrol, when all of the sudden you fell on your knees and started sobbing.

He was unsure of what he should do, since he wasn't sure there was anything he could do to help the girl who appeared to despise him and also what he was doing could be taken as stalking, which was not cool. Eventually though he started walking towards you, knowing your miserable expression would nag him all night if he didn't.

--

"Hey, I was wondering, are you good?" the unsure question startled you and you flinched away from the person now standing directly behind you, turning and ending up face to face with none other than Spiderman. Great. Absolutely marvelous. "Oh, yeah, um-", you were struggling for words turning your head so the hero wouldn't see your red eyes. "I'm actually good, so you can go... stop a robbery or something". You knew he saw right through you, but you didn't have any energy to make your lies believable. Instead of leaving the hero sat down next to you, keeping out of your personal space. "No offence, but I don't think you should be alone right now. Is there anyone I could call?" he asked. You didn't even have to think before answering: "No". Plain and simple.

--

Peter was shocked by the answer. "How about your parents", he asked but dropped the subject seeing the blatant fear in your eyes. "Any friends?" was the next option, but you shook your head as a response. "You sure? Maybe Cassie or Sophie?""No. I don't want them to know". You looked so damn sad. It was getting cold and you were shaking on the ground eyes red puffy and runny mascara smudged around them. Although the sight was heartbreaking you yourself were emotionless. You looked like you were giving up, and Peter wouldn't let that happen if there was anything he could do to stop it, so after careful consideration he made one last offer: "How about Peter Parker?"

--

You sat there staring blankly at your hands. The tears had dried long ago, leaving behind familiar grey fog that settled into your brain making thinking hard, feeling nearly impossible. "How about Peter Parker?" One last tear escaped your otherwise now dry eyes as you answered hollowly: “Peter Parker hates me”. Because how could he not. “And what if he doesn’t” “Then he definitely should.” That's when the boy next to her took off his mask revealing a familiar face surrounded by brown hair. He patted your back and you looked at him sighing: “well this explains a lot”, before burying your face against your knees. "I'm really sorry Peter", you whispered, still not willing to look at the boy. "It's okay" Peter said. "I mean it. I have been awful and you and your friends deserved none of it", you mumbled slowly raising your eyes to look at the boy next to you. "I do too. It's all good", Peter reassured and after a moment of silence he continued: "Look, I don't know what's happening here, but if you want to talk about it you can. And if you don't, that's completely fine too". Silent tears had started trickling down your face once more as you swallowed. "I'd prefer not to", you said and readied herself for the possible reaction, that never came.

--

Peter Parker looked at the girl next to him, who looked like she was mentally preparing herself for a strike and his heart broke. He wasn't exactly sure what was happening, but he could tell you were at your breaking point. "Okay, I won't push" he assured. "Would it be okay if I hugged you tho? You can say no", he asked, and when you nodded he cautiously wrapped his arms around you. You held on like a drowning person to a rope, shaking violently. "It's okay. I'm not going anywhere", he muttered, holding you in a tight embrace. You staid like that until the trembling had stopped and you looked like you could maybe stand up. "Should we get you home", he asked, studying your facial expressions. You nodded slightly and after he'd helped you up and put his mask back on you started walking towards your place, he carrying your bag. You knew the hardest part of the night wasn't over, but you'd be okay, eventually.

#mcu #peter parker #parental abuse #perfectionism #neglect #gifted kid burnout #gifted kid shit #breaking point #reader insert #reader x avengers