Andrew Garfield As PETER PARKER The Amazing Spider-Man 2 (2014) Dir. Marc Webb

Oh Daisy, I’m sorry to hear how tough things have been. Sending you and your mom my love 🌻💛 —v

Thank you V 🖤 We’re all remaining very optimistic about the future and her treatment. I appreciate the message so much 🥺

Live footage of me writing this for V and V only

What if I told you I was working on a prompt for Ravelclaw!Peter and Hufflepuff!reader? What then V?

Well Daisy, I’d have to scream and jump and worship the very ground you walk on because YES PLEASE

The Things We Never Talk About

Synopsis: A health scare reveals to Peter the things she never talks about, and worse, the things she keeps hidden for fear of speaking them into being.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader (she/her pronouns); established relationship, angst, worry, fluff; Basically, if you’d like to suffer and then recover in 9k words, read this.

Warnings/Spoilers: health related concerns (spoiler warning: reproductive health is included), troubled family history, horrible mothers, mental illness, tragedies, mentions of other elements related to these issues. This is quite emotionally demanding, but ends on a positive note. Also, please note that the medical info in this is intentionally manipulated for the story’s convenience. For example, you cannot diagnose certain illnesses with a blood test, but one is used here. There aren’t any bogus claims or anything like that, but medical accuracy is sweked.

Words: 9.3K

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A half hour has passed since she received the call from Dr. Connely, and the same half hour has been spent staring at the wall farthest away from her work desk. No one has called her out for it yet, but then again, the office is mostly empty today. Few people choose to come in when the weather resembles the end times, but she happens to like torrential rain. It’s especially nice when you work on the first floor, rather than the 14th, but somehow not even the thundering of rain drops can distract her mind.

She doesn’t know what this means, for now or for the future.

She does, however, wish she hadn’t gone for that check-up. Yes, she would’ve been postponing the inevitable and embroiling both her and her partner in something entirely nebulous, but she just wishes she had more time.

Peter.

What kind of world is this, where at once you’re the happiest you’ve ever been, and then a six minute phone call severs the branch from under your feet?

Maybe she should’ve suspected something, or at least been more cautious, given the state of things. Family history being what it is for her, the likelihood of this outcome was sadly not that low.

And now it proves devastating.

Going home weighs heavy on both heart and mind, and ten blocks away the pitter-patter on the umbrella has become too much, so she puts it away. Not even two blocks later, she’s soaked to the bone but successfully distracted, at least temporarily. She knows Peter’s arrival isn’t that far away, and in a moment of fear, she considers not going inside and just meandering about in the storm.

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So so happy you liked it!!

HIII!! I saw that you requests are open so here is mine :D What if reader got Peter flowers? <333

A/N: I love this! lets pretend I posted this yesterday on Valentine's day lol

Love, Sunshine, and Beauty

Peter was a really kind and thoughtful boyfriend. He always did like things for y/n like leaving little notes for her to find while he was on patrol and she had just gotten home from work. One time he left a small flower that he must have picked from the bush outside on the soap holder in the shower. He was always doing things to make her smile and know that he thought about her and wanted to make her smile, even if he wasn't there to see it. Being Spider-Man made him miss out on some things that he wished he could be there for like the birthday party she had last year that her best friend threw her at a bar in Brooklyn. It being at night, Peter wasn't able to make it and she understood but it bothered him a lot that he wasn't there for his girlfriends birthday party. That was when the little things had started and y/n adored them more than Peter knew. So when Valentine's day came around, she realized that this was her chance to do something sweet for Peter like he often did for her.

She'd never bought flowers before, especially not for a man so she wasn't sure what to get. She wandered around the grocery store looking at the tons of different arrangements they had but none of them stood out to her until she came across a bouquet of sunflowers, red roses, and daisies. They all meant something that was so true to Peter. It was perfect.

Their shared apartment was empty when she got home and she knew Peter was most likely at the lab still. They had early dinner plans for Valentine's day so he would be home shortly.

After putting the bouquet in a vase with some water, she left it on the counter that faced the front door with a card that she propped up to stand and a small box of chocolates before getting in the shower.

Peter closed the front door behind him, hearing the shower and knowing y/n was in it. They had dinner plans shortly and he couldn't wait to take her to the restaurant. It was where they had their first date two years ago and also the same place she had told him she loved him for the first time just a few months later.

He looked up and stopped in his tracks.

On the kitchen counter was a vase with different flowers. At first, he immediately thought that someone else had given them to her before he had a chance to give her the roses he had in had in his hand, but then he saw the propped card with his name on it.

He dropped his backpack on the empty counter space and picked up the card and opened it.

Peter, Happy Valentines day, my love. I know men don't usually receive flowers, even on v-day but I wanted to give you back some of the beauty you give to me every day. The roses are for how much I love you, the sunflowers are for the sunshine you bring into my life, and the daisies are for the beauty that is you. I love you endlessly.

                                                                  -love, y/n

Peter smiled wide and kissed the card before setting it down and taking in the flowers, seeing her meaning in each type. He knew how lucky he was to be love by her and he felt her love with the gesture and with the beautiful flowers. He was saddened that he wouldn't be able to keep them forever. Maybe he could have one of each pressed and framed. He would have to look into that before they died.

The sound of the shower stopping had him moving and he was coming into the bedroom at the same time y/n was getting out with a towel around her.

"Hey, babe." She beamed. "Happy Valentine's."

He pulled the bouquet of roses out from behind his back, his face partially hidden by them and a smile a mile wide pulling his at his lips.

"Peter." She cooed, taking them. "These are gorgeous."

"Happy Valentine's day, baby."

"Did you see yours?" She asked hopefully.

"No one's ever gotten me flowers before and I love them." He kissed her cheek, thinking back to the arrangement that was sitting on the kitchen counter fondly.

A year later, y/n walked down the aisle with a bouquet of red roses, sunflowers, and daisies.

The Sun is a Blue Moon (Part 2)

A/N: here’s part two of the sun is a blue moon! I wrote this once and hated it about 3k in so I scrapped it and started over and I’m waaaay happier with how it came out than what I originally had planned. Oh and it ended up all being from Peters third person view somehow??? yeah idk. I hope y’all like it <3

Summary: “Only the gentle are ever really strong.” - James Dean

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: violence, blood, injuries, fighting, battle, anxiety, panic, fearing the death of a loved one, gried, sadness, death

Playlist: End of the World by Nightriots

             Till Forever Falls Apart by Ashe, FINNEAS

             As the World Caves in by Sarah Cothran

read part one here

Peter looked back to his notes, checking to make sure his measurements were correct before adding the white cap into the potion, the bubbling encouraging him further. He observed the reaction before picking up his pen and jotting down what he saw on the marked up page, his pinkie smudging the still drying inscriptions on the line above. He adjusted his glasses before continuing on with his work, his mind wandering to y/n who was currently in care of magical creatures while he was in his free period, working on his own potions. His eyes flashed down to the small daffodil colored yarn bracelet that was woven in with white yarn that she had made for him. Everyone in their group had gotten one that she made them in their house color except him. He was special and got her house color. Her glowing face filled his mind and he couldn’t help but smile a little. 

Peter Parker was in love. 

He had been in love with y/n since early December when the snow was just starting to really stick to the ground and everyone wore their thickest robes. He didn’t know when it happened- there wasn’t some defining moment that pushed him off the proverbial cliff, but he realized it when they were laying together in his bed. Y/N had snuck into the Ravenclaw common room which took quite the effort on her part, having not only managed to sneak from one end of the castle to the other since the Hufflepuff dorms and Ravenclaw tower were on opposite ends of the castle, but she had also spent quite some time trying to guess the riddle that would allow her into Ravenclaw. She wasn’t good at riddles but she’d taken her time and got lucky. Peter hadn’t known she was coming and when he was woken by a small poke on his bare shoulder, he’d woken and had to blink a couple times, making sure it was girlfriend looking down at him.

“How did you get in here?” He was bewildered and looking behind him to make sure that his roommate was still asleep and sure enough he, being the heavy sleeper he was, was still out cold.

“I guessed the riddle.” She whispered with a shrug like that was all she needed to explain. 

His hand ran across his one eye. He took her in, looking for a visible explanation as to why she had taken such a huge risk to get there. He was now more awake and realized her eyes were irritated and her cheeks duller and stripped of its natural oils, suggesting she had either recently washed her face or been crying. He went with the latter once he took in her locket that was twisted around and the clasp close to the locket itself. It looked like her fingers hadn’t been able to let go of it all night. The first time he had seen her have an anxiety attack, her small first had been gripping the locket like it was the only thing keeping her tethered to earth. He always knew the days her anxiety was bad with just a look at the chain around her neck.

Instantly becoming more alert, he sat up, large hand framing her face while his other found her hand. “What happened?”

Swallowing, she sucked on her bottom lip and he saw tears start to rise in her eyes. “You know that bird's nest that’s right outside the window of the common room?”

He thought back to the birds nest saga he had been getting daily updated on for the last week. The entire house of Hufflepuff was enamored by the mother dove that had built a nest in the crook of one of the outside windows in the Hufflepuff common room. Two days ago she had laid four eggs, all varying shades of blue with brown spots of them. 

“Yeah.” He nodded. 

Her chin quivered and more tears rapidly flooded her eyes. “One of the eggs fell out of the nest earlier tonight.”

His heart dropped in his chest. “Oh, sweetheart.”

She collapsed into him and his arms enveloped her and wrapped around her tightly, pulling her further into his warm bed and throwing the blanket over her as well. She cried softly into his chest, tears hitting his bare skin as he smoothed down the back of her hair, leaving small kisses on her forehead. 

“She was so sad.” She cried softly. “She just kept looking for it in the nest.”

It was sad to hear but he didn’t quite feel it as deeply as he knew y/n did. Hufflepuffs were natural empaths and felt things deeply, y/n maybe more so than the average Hufflepuff. He knew that her heart was aching and she was feeling everything the mother bird was feeling. 

Her crying stopped after a few minutes but they didn’t barely move after. 

“I’m going to go and see if I can find the egg in the morning. I already looked for it but it’s too dark.”

He loathed the idea of her wandering the grounds at night by herself but knew why she did what she did and that at that point it didn’t matter nor was it the time to say something about it, even if the idea of it did scare the shit out of him. There were dangerous things outside of Hogwarts at night.

“I’ll go with you. We can give it a little funeral if we have to.”

She nodded, face somber. “Please.”

The gentle silence filled the space around them and Peter put a kiss on the tip of her red nose, rubbing her back to soothe her. Having her in his bed made him feel at ease in a way he didn’t know he needed. He was going to have a difficult time not having her beside him at night now that he knew what it was like. Maybe y/n could give him some pointers on how to get into Hufflepuff.

“I like this.” She confessed, her voice nearly undetectable, eyes trusting and allowing him to see right into her. He was the only person on the planet she dropped her guard in front of. A brick wall of anxiety and self consciousness had been impenetrable to everyone except for him. He had been able to find a secret door in that brick wall.

“Me too.” He whispered back. 

“Oh.” She inhaled. “I found that book on unicorns you were looking for.”

His ears perked up. “Yeah?”

“Someone misplaced it. Found it in the Wizarding War section. I checked it out for you.”

He stared at her, his thumb pulling gently at her smooth bottom lip. “What would I do without you?”

“Be without a citation.” She snarked with a small smile. “Always have ink on your face. Get into way more fights.” She listed.

He smirked at the mention of a fight. 

Two weeks prior to that he had punched a Slytherin in the face for calling y/n a mudblood. He was one of those pure blood elitists and didn’t realize that Peter had been within earshot when he said it. “I don’t know how Parker dates a mudblood” he had sneered in disgust. Peter had felt anger before. He’d even say he has felt rage before. It may not have been a very common occurrence but he was not unfamiliar with being so angry he felt red hot rage, but he had never before felt white hot rage until the moment the word mudblood fell from the Slytherin boy's tongue. It filled his body starting at his chest and going into his hands, making them pulse and his vision go hazy. He had walked up to the boy and decked him right in the face- right there in the waiting to begin classroom. It had gotten him in serious trouble but he didn’t care. He had accepted and knew those consequences would come the second the Slytherin hit the floor. He wasn’t going to let anyone mouth off about his girl, let alone in front of him and especially not when they called her a mudblood.

She had balked when he told her why his right hand was swollen and with a small break in the skin at the knuckle on his middle finger. After making him promise he wouldn’t go around punching anyone else- yes even if they did call her a mudblood, she had eagerly pushed him against the wall of the vacant hallway, taking him beyond surprise, and kissed him until he was dizzy and couldn’t think straight. If someone had asked him then for a potions equation he had already mastered he wouldn’t have been able to give them a single number. 

“See the thing about that is that after that fight you kissed me and it’s a kiss I don’t think I’ll ever forget.” Her ears went red and he could only chuckle at this. “I still can’t believe me throwing a punch did it for you.”

“It wasn’t because you punched someone.” She argued, eyes down on his lips. “It’s because you punched someone for me. You defended me and I don’t know…it’s really, really hot.”

“And you want me to not punch someone else for you when you tell me how hot you think it is?” He challenged, an eyebrow raised. 

“Just shut up and kiss me, Pete.”

“I can do that.” He chortled, closing the gap between them and kissing her, her cold hands pressing against his chest and sending chills down his spine. 

They made out in Peter’s bed for a while, the most scandalous part of it when she let him slip his hand up her shirt and cop a feel. They hadn’t gone very far when it came to intimacy, both nervous and unsure about what they were doing. Peter didn’t want to make y/n uncomfortable or feel pressured and y/n was afraid to do something wrong or be bad at it. What they both knew was that when they were ready, they wanted their first time to be with each other.

They both knew she couldn’t stay the entire night even though neither wanted her to go. 

“I’ll walk you back.”

“So you can be in even more trouble if you get caught?”

He shook his head. “I don’t care. I don’t want you walking to the other side of the castle by yourself.”

“You act like I’m going to run into you know who.”

“Don’t even joke about that.” He glared. “This isn’t up for debate.”

She sighed but didn’t argue further, though neither made any effort to move. He flittered with the idea of just staying there until the hour before sunrise and then walking her back. They could be together for a few more hours and bask in the feeling of being in a bed together. It was something he didn’t know how badly he wanted it until he had it. Having her in his arms with a thick blanket over them, their body heat mingling together and their breath mixing in the small space between them was intoxicating. He never wanted it to end. It was like nothing else existed in the world except for them in the bed. There wasn’t charms homework to stress about or people to call y/n names that made him want to punch them or curious eyes watching them. It was just them.

As he stared at her, the realization came to him sort of like a song in the background getting louder and louder until eventually he took notice of him. He realized he was in love with her. It was a lot like putting change in a vending machine; eventually you’d have enough to get what you wanted. All the pennies and nickels and dimes had added up and he was in love with y/n.

He told her when he had walked her back to Hufflepuff and she had looked at him with those big eyes that made him melt into a puddle of mush and said it back, making him wonder if it was possible to die from being in love. Peter had all but floated back to Ravenclaw, a giant smile on his face and, for the first time, holding someone’s heart in his chest instead of his own. No, his own heart was with y/n and he had hers.

The over-bubble of his potion pulled him back to the present and he shook his head, trying to salvage his work that he had been distracted from. She wasn’t even in the room and she was distracting him. She was like a mind sickness that consumed him and kept him awake at night wondering if she was thinking of him like he was her and distracted him from his potions and spells. A girl made of sunshine had put a spell on him and he never wanted it to go away. 

Class ended and he slung his robe over his arm and headed for the great hall, searching for y/n as he made his way to the table, Win and Gwen already there. He sat beside them and greeted them, neck craning around the flocks of students to look for his girl who was usually already at the table.

Just as he was about to ask Gwen and Win if they had seen y/n, he felt someone sit right beside him and knew who it was. 

“Hey.” She greeted everyone, voice chipper and eyes bright. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” He grinned, kissing her cheek and lacing their hands together. 

“Y/N, please tell me you can teach me how to do that braid.” Win gushed, eyes running up and down y/n’s hair.

Today y/n had braided her hair in a french braid, strands falling at her temples. She hadn’t done it in years but woke up feeling like it was going to be a good day so she did the braid and loved the way it looked. Peter had complimented it as they walked to her first class and she was sure she was going to do it everyday for the rest of the year. 

“Oh, for sure!” She nodded. “It’s easy.”

Win squealed just as Harry was sitting down, making him wince at the high pitched noise. “We could have a girls night! I’ll sneak you guys into Gryffindor and we can do our nails and stuff.”

They all agreed and as they talked, the rest of their ground made their way to the table. Peter noticed the small chill that ran through y/n and draped his robe around her shoulders. She always got cold in the great hall and he put his robe on her during meals. She gave him a grateful smile, tugging it closer and putting her attention back on Flash who was telling some story from their second year.

It was in Peter’s last class of that day that the loud rumble shook the entire castle like an earthquake. Everyone had gone silent and perked up, unsure of what was going on. Snape bolted to the doors only for Flitwick to burst them open, startling everyone further. 

“The school is under attack! Dumbledore wants all the children to be sent back to their dorms!”

Snape rushed out while the students followed, all heading in different directions in pure panic and lack of real guidance from adults.

Peter didn’t go to the Ravenclaw tower like the rest of the students in the blue ties. No, he headed for Hufflepuff. He had no idea where y/n was but he wasn’t going to be away from her when Hogwarts was under attack from who knows what. So many bad things could happen. Peter didn’t even want to think about what could happen. All he knew was that he had to get to her and he would do it no matter what. She just had to stay safe until he got there and then he would protect her. He knew how she felt about using magic to harm others but he didn’t know if that applied to those trying to harm her. Would she still raise her wand? He didn’t know. He couldn’t picture her raising her wand with intent to harm- it just wasn’t something he could see her doing. She saw the good in people and was someone who could talk anyone down from anything with just one look.

“I’m coming, y/n.” He breathed as he ran down the stairs, students fleeing past him and screams filling the air. It felt like he was in a nightmare or a horror movie that took place right in Hogwarts.

As he turned the corner after reaching the last step, he was horrified to see the main floor was in shambles. The east wall had been taken out completely, crushed brick and marble everywhere as death eaters flooded inside, fighting with professors and students, spells being cast from wands left and right.  

He saw a terrified first year struggling to hold their own against an enemy and knew that he had to help. He couldn’t just let them struggle. That’s not who he was. Aunt May had been so sure that he would be sorted into Gryffindor because of his lion's heart.

Wherever y/n was, he begged that she was safe for now. 

His wand out and ready, he threw an attack at the death eater that was challenging the young student. Peter battled strongly, surprised at the sheer force of his magic and the way his spells came out more powerful than the rest of the students around him. He didn’t know if it was because of how advanced he was or because of the pure adrenaline bolting through his veins or because of how he felt the need to protect every single person who couldn’t protect themselves. He’d always stood up for people before but this made him feel like he was personally responsible for the well-being of everyone. Like he was some kind of superhero. 

As he was battling alongside other sixth and seventh years as well as Hogwarts faculty, he was looking for a yellow tie and the shine of his girlfriend’s hair that he would know anywhere, even in the fight of his life. Every flash of yellow had him whipping his head in that direction, this proved near deadly a couple times, and every time it wasn’t her he felt his panic rise. It was like the music in the build up of a movie scene when the bad guy is just around the corner and the main character has no idea they’re there with an axe. With a clenched jaw and tight shoulders, he relentlessly fought his way toward the kitchens, looking for y/n as he went and trying to keep his mind together. He felt like he was being pulled in two different directions; his heart and his morals. He felt obligated to help everyone who needed it and not let anyone go without aid. It was who he was and who his Uncle Ben and Aunt May raised him to be; a good man who stopped when someone needed help. But his heart…his heart was begging with him- pleading with him to forget everyone else and find the one person that made it beat inside his chest. His heart was trying to pull him in its desired direction, his chest feeling like it was being tugged at.

At what felt like the end of the world, Peter was trying to find her. He was trudging through war and death, fighting like hell to try and get to her; to try and find her. He would fight for a hundred hours, cast a thousand spells, and travel a million miles to find her. She just needed to stay breathing until he got there. 

It was when he was just around the corner from the kitchens, so close to Hufflepuff his morals were starting to lose the battle to his heart, that he saw it.  He’d have missed it if it hadn’t been for the light reflecting off it from someone's cast spell.

On the floor was y/n’s heart shaped locket. 

Cold dread filled Peter and he could feel himself go pale. His stomach fell to his feet and his heart, the heart that had been shaking him by his shoulders and screaming at him since the damn battle had started, felt like a metal vice was squeezing on it.

She never took that golden chain off, often falling asleep with it on and only removing it to shower. It was her most important possession and something that kept her grounded and stable. She would toy with it when she was anxious, fingernail breaking open the clasp only for her to snap it right shut. The sound of it opening and closing was something that Peter had gotten used to but didn’t hear it as much as he did when they had first started dating. 

The worst case scenario ran through his head and he briefly wondered who he had helped along the way that cost him y/n. Who did he trade her for? Of the dozen or so people he had helped on his way across the castle, who had been the one that he saved while the light faded from his sunshine? He would have been able to protect her and save her but he sacrificed her for someone else.

He rushed over to it, bumping into someone but paying no attention to them as he leaned down to scrape it up. The once pristine gold now had dents and nicks, the luster dimmed, and the clasp broken. Something he hadn’t seen before was the dried blood on the chain. It nearly made him drop to his knees, his body feeling as heavy as the necklace that was in his hand.

Realistically, he knew that just because she lost her necklace didn’t mean she was dead and he was desperately trying to cling to that. But something had happened to her that made her lose her locket and something had prevented her from retrieving it. The blood on the chain had to be from her. There wasn’t blood on the floor where the locket had been meaning the blood had to have already been on it when it fell off of her. If she wasn’t…dead then she was at the very least injured and that was enough to have him seething. Even if he found her alive he would still be out for blood, determined to make them spill ten times the amount of blood that they had made y/n spill. He was going to seek justice- no, revenge on everyone that had sent their wand her way. 

Then Peter turned, ready to do just that, and the air was stolen from his lungs. 

Coming out of the Hufflepuff corridor with others behind her was y/n.

And she was magnificent.

Her hair bounced from the force of the cast of her wand and she seemed to glow gold from the light of the sun coming through the nearby window as she fought without any trace of fear, body moving with expertise and without hesitance as if Athena herself lived within her. There was a deep cut across her collarbone that was revealed by the lack of tie and partially unbuttoned linen button up and a scrape above her eyebrow. Her left sleeve was rolled up haphazardly, like she had rolled them both up seconds before her fight began but one had fallen from combat. She was a warrior and a goddess and his y/n all at the same time. And she was alive.

Seeing her alive actually did bring him to his knees, his heart having gone through too much throughout the day to support him through another whirlwind of emotion that hit him like a train. She was alive and breathing and she was arguably holding her own. It made his shoulders sag back, weak at seeing her become a goddess. He had been picturing her hiding in a closet the entire time like a small puppy; scared and wishing for him to come. Instead she was fighting back with a strength he didn’t know she had in her. She held her wand with the most confidence he had ever seen her possess, her spells stronger than his had been. She spoke clearly and boldly with no tremor or trace of anxiety in her tone. She was leading the charge in her house. How he had underestimated her placement as a Hufflepuff, a people known to be unafraid of toil. How he had underestimated her. 

Peter felt like he was watching her in slow motion and then she was looking in his direction, doing a double take at seeing him there. She sent out a forceful spell at her foe before rushing over to him and dropping down in front of him, hands cupping face and lips moving. She looked concerned, eyebrows knitted together and eyes clouded with worry. It was then that he realized she was talking to him, asking him if he was okay.

“You’re alive.” He gasped before crushing her against his chest, hands gripping her back tight and never wanting to let go. “God, I was so fuckin’ scared.”

“I know.” She breathed, fingers threading through his locks at the back of his head. “I was too. I wanted to try and find you but…”

“I know.”

Their reunion was cut short by a deatheater seeing their vulnerability and raising his wand toward them. Peter’s eyes went wide, thinking of their position. Y/N’s body was directly in front of his. She would take the hit if he didn’t make a drastic move.

But his girl- his sweet, beautiful, kind, gentle Hufflepuff surprised him again. She jumped up, her arm raised. “Expelliarmus!” She lashed and Peter watched as the enemy was disarmed. She took it a step further and cast a sectumsempra spell, harming him and causing him to turn and run. It would have been comical to see someone running away from y/n in fear if he hadn’t been so stunned and full of awe and maybe even a little turned on by the tenacity she was exuding.

Once Peter got over his shock, he was up and fighting alongside her, having her back and her having his. They defended the part of the school they could before finally it was over and what surviving enemies that still lingered realized they were losing and surrendered or escaped. 

The battle-worn students and school faculty were gathered in the great hall where wounded were being taken care of and loved ones reunited. It was a sea of tears, both of relief and grief. They met up with their friends who were all well and victorious, happy to see the couple together and just as victorious. Hugs went around as well as a few tears from Win who had been worried about the two more than anyone.

Peter and y/n walked holding hands, both physically beaten but feeling alive as ever. Y/N leaned into his side as they sat on the rows of opened up bleachers. He couldn’t stop looking at her, seeing that moment when she had emerged from the hallway bathed in golden sunlight and war over and over again in his head. He saw her in a different light. He had always known she was the sun of life; keeping him warm and putting the kick in his step. But he didn’t realize until then just how rare she was now that he was seeing the other side of the sun that didn’t usually face him. She was the all smiles, spoke to everyone like they mattered more than the world, made friendship bracelets for people, purposely picked out the ugliest looking cookie on the tray just so it would get picked kind of soul. But she was also the defend her house to the death, cast out sectumsempra spells, lead the charge of the battle kind of soul. Those kinds of people who were those two sides of the same coin were rare. Once in a blue moon kind of rare. His sun was a blue moon and the irony was not lost on him.

“What?” She asked, eyeing the way he was looking at her. 

“The entire time I was trying to get to you. You know, I was convinced that you were hiding in a closet somewhere? Then I get there and you’re…you’re not just fighting but you’re leading it. I had no idea you had that in you.” He mused, eyes dancing with pride. 

She beamed. “I didn’t either. It just kind of happened. I didn’t even think, I guess. They tried to get in and I just started fighting.”

The memory of her locket hit him and he fished it out from his pocket. “I found this on the floor. I thought something bad happened to you when I saw it there. Had me worried for a second.” That was an understatement. But she didn’t need to know about the true heartbreak he had felt for the thirty seconds he thought the sun had set permanently.

Her face fell into relief at seeing her locket in his open palm. “Oh my god. I thought it was gone forever. Some tried to put a levicorpus spell on me but it got my necklace instead. I tried to find it but there was so much going on.”

Brushing her hair to the side, Peter wrapped the necklace around her neck and clasped it on, letting it rest on her chest where it belonged.

Hi folks just wanted to give an update on where I’ve been. My mom was recently diagnosed with an aggressive cancer and I’ve been not only taking care of her and providing support but also struggling with it myself. I’ve just been too stressed and worried and weighed down to write much but I hope within the coming weeks the rocking of my world will settle. Just wanted to give a little update and for you to know I haven’t abandoned this little blog:)

When I tell you I am OBSESSED with this like she’s everything and so cute? I love her? And Peter punching that jerk in the face for her? Just bury me and write on my tombstone that this was my cause of death

Here Comes the Sun 2/3

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

Summary: Peter somehow is roped into a second date with Miss Sunshine. Why is it everything she does

Warnings: AFAB!reader, language, talk and description of depression and anxiety.

"So how was your date?" May asked. 

Peter didn't know why he thought May would say anything else when he walked in. He was hoping he could avoid it. Avoid talking about his date with Miss Sunshine. 

It was bad enough that she had started sending him good morning texts. Peter didn't understand how anyone had enough energy at six in the morning to send texts filled with emojis and a daily fun fact. 

Though he was finding the facts interesting. 

"It was alright," Peter shrugged as he continued to help unload the groceries. 

"Just alright?" May asked. Peter nodded his head. He could feel her stare burning into his skin. 

"Wow Peter, she must be pretty alright if you're going on another date tomorrow." 

"How did you-" 

May just smiled, "She told me. I asked her how the date went last night, figuring I'd get a more honest response." 

"Somehow she's never been to the night market in Queens. I'm just doing my duty as a resident to fix that," Peter explained. It was the truth. He wasn't doing this because he had a crush on her or anything. That would be ridiculous. 

Right? 

May shook her head, the smile remaining on her face, "I knew you two would get along."  

"We do not get along. I tolerate her and she thinks every other thing I say is funny," Peter defended. 

"Sounds like you tolerate her enough to spend more time with her." Peter wanted to say something snarky, something defensive in response to May's comment. 

But his mind was drawing a blank. So he just continued unloading the groceries and putting them away in the kitchen. 

"She's very pretty, isn't she?" May didn't even wait for Peter to respond. His red face was enough. Peter ignored her, hoping that would be enough to silence her. 

"You two would have the cutest kids. Especially if they get your hair and her eyes." 

"May, are-are you s-serious?" Peter sputtered, "We've been on one date!" 

“Well you’re gonna have to start thinking about it sooner or later Peter. I’m not gonna be young forever and I’d like to at least play with your kids." 

"I'm not responding to this," Peter muttered as he put the milk away. He stuck his head in the fridge, hoping the cool air would bring his body temperature back down to a reasonable level. 

He also hoped it would distract him from the image he had of a small child with soft brown hair and bright, familiar eyes that had popped into his head and was refusing to go away. 

"It's really warm out," Peter commented as he closed the door to the fridge. 

"Peter, it's sixty five degrees," May remarked. 

✓✓✓✓✓✓✓✓✓✓ 

How did he get here? 

Peter kept asking himself that as he walked up to her door. He had agreed to meet her at her place this time. 

What was he doing? He couldn't remember the last time he went on a second date. What were you even supposed to talk about? Why did it feel like there was more pressure now compared to the first? 

No, it couldn't be pressure he was feeling. Because feeling pressured would imply that he was nervous, that he wanted the date to go well. 

And that wasn't definitely not the case. It was probably something he ate. Maybe even May's cooking. She probably got distracted from talking about Miss Sunshine so much and didn't cook the meat all the way. 

Maybe he would get sick and he could leave early. 

Peter knocked on the door to her apartment. Within (what felt like) seconds, the door opened to reveal the dreaded woman of the hour. 

"Y-you l-look nice," Peter said before he could stop himself. It was just a pair of overalls and a T-shirt. It made no sense for Peter to be thinking about how pretty she looked. 

Granted, he could acknowledge she was pretty, right? Acknowledging you found someone good-looking doesn't mean you liked them. 

Right? 

She smiled, "Thanks. You shaved!" 

Peter put his hand on his cheek upon hearing the observation, nodding his head. He figured it was time for a haircut and a shave. It was bothering him. 

That was all. Nothing more.   

"You look good. Both shaved and unshaved," She quickly added. 

"Thanks," Peter mumbled, his hand finding its way to the back of his neck. He was hoping that by wearing a T- shirt, he wouldn't feel so warm. 

It wasn't working. 

✓✓✓✓✓✓✓✓✓✓✓✓

"So how is it you've never been here before?" Peter asked. The two were walking around the night market, taking in all the sights. Her eyes were perpetually widened ever since they arrived. 

She looked at him, shrugging, "I've only lived in the city for about three years now. And out of those three years, two of them were spent on just trying to get a fresh start and adjust." 

"A fresh start?" Peter found himself asking. She nodded her head. 

"I'll spare you the details-unless you're truly curious- but before moving here," She sighed, "I was working at a toxic, shitty place and on top of that was in a shitty relationship." 

"Oh," Peter was stumped at how she talked about it so casually. 

"Yeah, those two years I was telling you about? Where I didn't want to smile? Was too busy debating whether to crash my car on the way to work. It got to the point that I…quit my job, broke things off with my ex and asked my Aunt if I could live with her until I got back on my feet. And you know, went through a lot of therapy." She stopped walking to look at Peter, "I'm sorry, that was a lot of information to dump on you all at once." 

"No, it's…it's okay," Peter gave a small smile, hoping to reassure her. 

 He was jealous. Jealous of how she was able to talk about it so casually, like it weighed nothing. Like it didn't keep her up at night. Like it didn't affect every single decision she made. Didn't weigh on everything she did, every move she made. 

"Thanks," She smiled back, "Wanna go check out this Arepa stand?" 

It was like she knew that he needed a distraction. She motioned towards the vendor. Peter nodded, catching up with her. Not wanting to lose her (and face May's wrath as a result), he grabbed her closest hand.  

She stopped moving, looking down at Peter's hand and then back up to him. A small, knowing smile began to form on her face. 

"I forgot to bring the kid leash." Peter explained, as if that was sufficient. It should have been, in Peter's mind. 

"Okay," except the sly smile on her face was telling Peter she didn't believe him. 

"Look, I wouldn't have to worry if someone had eaten all their vegetables and grown a few extra inches." 

"You can't find me with that giraffe neck of your's?" She remarked back. 

Peter stopped, putting a hand over his heart, feigning shock and offense.  

"What if I told you I was super self conscious about that? I thought you were supposed to be sweet." He was unable to contain the grin on his face. 

She leaned in (or in her case, up) to Peter, "Who says something sweet can't have a little bite to it?" 

Peter felt hot all over his body. He looked down at the ground, not wanting to make eye contact.    

"You're really cute when you're flustered," Sunshine giggled. 

Nope, that was it. Peter had to put an end to this now. 

"I….I'm not flustered!" Was the best he could come up with.  

"Whatever you say, Parker. Now let's get an Arepa!" She began walking with him, still holding his hand. 

"You do not make me flustered," Peter mumbled, kicking a nearby rock. 

"I just make you feel hot and fuzzy inside, right?" Peter stopped dead in his tracks. How did she know?  

As if Miss Sunshine could read his mind, she remarked, "I feel the same way. Even when you're being Mr. Grumpy Gills."  

"Mr. Grumpy Gills? That's the best you can do, Miss Sunshine?"   

"It's what we call the stuffed fish we have in my classroom when we talk about different feelings," She explained, hiding her smile at his nickname for her. 

He could leave now. He could make up some excuse. Or Peter could just bolt out of there-wouldn't be the first time. He could leave and never speak to her again. 

He could go home, back to his apartment. Back to dodging dates from May. 

Back to being alone. 

Normally, that thought wouldn't bother Peter. He had become used to it. It was familiar, normal for him. It was safe. 

Not being alone for one night couldn't hurt. Right? 

✓✓✓✓✓✓✓✓✓✓✓ 

"These questions are all horrible," Peter laughed before taking a sip of his drink. 

"That's because you refuse to answer them!" She giggled, motioning to her phone. The two were sitting down, eating their Arepas. She had suggested twenty questions, as a way to learn more about each other.  

Of course, he found something wrong with the questions. Too deep. Too shallow. Too ridiculous. Too confusing. 

"Alright, I think I have one," She put her phone away, "Do you have names picked out for your kids? Like what would you want to name them?" 

"Why do you keep asking questions related to parenthood?" Peter asked. 

"Because it's important to me, and I see you smile whenever the idea of kids are brought up." 

Peter rolled his eyes, though the smile remained on his face. It disappeared once he realized that he had never thought about that. After Gwen….he assumed that opportunity was gone. 

Gwen. 

He braced himself for the gut wrenching feeling that would start in the pit of his stomach, then bubble up to his chest and throat-

"You okay?" Peter snapped out of his thoughts as soon as he felt her hand on his wrist. 

"Huh? Yeah, yeah…just never uh…thought about it," He quickly explained. 

Huh. That feeling was gone now. That was new. 

She smiled gently, "I can go first?" Peter nodded his head. 

"If I had a girl, I would name her Sophia. Call her Sophie as her nickname. Call her Sophie-Soph when she's a baby and a teenager," She grinned. 

"She's gonna hate that as a teenager, you know." 

"I'm aware. It's how I'll embarrass her when she's a moody teenager. You gotta start thinking of how you'll embarrass them!" She tapped a finger to her temple, earning a laugh out of Peter. It was then Peter noticed that whenever he laughed, her nose would scrunch up and the corners of her eyes would crinkle. 

Weird. 

After the laughter settled down, Peter spoke softly. 

"Benjamin." 

"Hmm?" She looked at him, as if she couldn't believe he actually gave her an answer. 

"If I had a son, I'd name him Benjamin….after my Uncle," He said softly.

She nodded her head, her eyes sad despite the smile on her face. Peter figured if she knew May, she knew what had happened. Or had been told the non-Spiderman version. 

"I've always liked that tradition," She said softly. 

She was good about comforting and assuring people. Peter would give her that. 

"Next question?" He asked, trying to force some lightness into his voice. 

"Favorite ice cream flavor." 

"These questions are all over the place." 

"I'm following up a deeper question with a lighter question! Now what's your favorite flavor? I went first last time, so it's your turn." 

"Raspberry sorbet." 

She snorted, "that's not ice cream." 

"It's close enough. Besides, you probably think mint chocolate chip is good." 

Her silence as she looked down told Peter the answer. He was about to make another joke when he noticed the shift in her body language. The smile was gone and her eyes were narrow and hard. He knew that look. 

A memory had been brought up. One that unpleasant and she'd rather not think about.

"Hey," Peter said, his voice now soft, "Sorry about that. I can see why folks like it, it just reminds me too much of toothpaste. But I shouldn't have been a dick about it." 

She giggled, the light slowly returning to her eyes, "Sorry, my….my ex gave me shit for that all the time." 

"He gave you shit over your favorite ice cream flavor?" Peter knew he wasn't perfect, he wasn't the living embodiment of joy. But he wasn't that bad. 

"He gave me shit for a lot of dumb things. And then would comment on how it made him sad that I had such low self-esteem," The chuckle she let out was bitter and cold.

"Wow that is….some strong cognitive dissonance right there," Peter paused, "I'm glad he's your ex." 

She looked at Peter, a soft smile on her face, "Me too. But he's part of the reason I spent my first two years in the city in therapy rather than going out and exploring. I had to figure out why I stuck with someone like that for so long." 

"And now you're on a date with me?" Peter blurted out. He wasn't trying to be mean. He was just confused why the living embodiment of sunshine was on a second date with him. 

"You're not a jerk, you're just guarded."

"I thought I was Mr. Grumpy Gills?" He said, wiggling his eyebrows, which got a genuine laugh out of her. 

"Again, you're not a jerk about it. I mean, besides that one time at the very beginning of our first date. But then you stopped," She said, smiling at the memory. 

"Well, I still feel like I was a jerk back there about your favorite ice cream flavor. So can I get you some to make it up?" He asked. 

"I would love that!"   

"You gonna stay in that spot?" Peter asked, grinning. 

"Pinky promise," She held out her pinky,  "What? It's a big deal in first grade."

"Yeah, I remember. That's probably the last time I did one." She continued to hold out her pinky, her bright eyes on Peter. 

"Fine," Peter mumbled, gently hooking his pinky around her's, "But only because I forgot to bring a balloon to tie to you." 

"I need you to know that I only tolerate your short jokes because they're clever," She told him, leaning in. 

"Oh please, like I would use 'what it's like down there'. I hope you think better of me than that." 

She leaned in, the scene of lavender filling Peter's nostrils, "I do." 

"Oh."

Peter lingered, his pinky still wrapped around her's. It was then he noticed how soft her lips looked. Which, in Peter's mind, was a weird thing for him to notice. Why did it matter if her lips looked soft? 

He needed to get up. All that sitting was doing something weird to his brain. 

✓✓✓✓✓✓✓✓✓ 

Peter turned around, ice cream in hand.

She had stayed in her spot, but she wasn't alone.   

Some random guy was standing next to her, trying to strike up a conversation. Her body language had totally shifted.       

It was cold, her eyes narrowed and looking away, avoiding eye contact. 

Through the crowd, her eyes found Peter's. He knew that look. He had seen it too many times while out on patrol. 

Help.

He was pretty sure he dropped the cup of ice cream. Not that he cared. His eyes were locked on her, refusing to look anywhere else. His stomach was all in knots. 

It lurched when that piece of shit gripped her arm when she tried to walk towards Peter. He knew where this was going. He had stumbled upon that ending one too many times late at night, the visceral image seared into his brain. 

That was not going to happen to her. 

Peter ran, all but shoving people out of the way. He caught a glimpse of the frightened look on her face and that was enough to justify grabbing the creep by the neck of his sweater and throwing him to the ground. 

"Touch her again and I won't be as nice next time," He spat, turning towards her. 

Peter softened when he saw how her hands were shaking."Are you okay?" He asked her. He reached his arms towards her, ready to pull her in and never let go, when the hairs on his neck stood up. 

Peter turned around, thankful his right hand was still balled into a fist. He pulled that arm back, releasing it as he turned around. His fist made perfect contact with the creep's jaw. In a way, Peter was thankful for the terror that was coursing through his veins. It was the only thing that was holding him back from using all his enhanced strength. Sending the guy right back to the ground was enough. 

"When I said I wouldn't be as nice, I meant I'd break ya fucking neck!" He stepped forward, ready to lunge at him, when a small, soft hand grabbed his wrist. 

"C'mon, let's get out of here, okay?" Her voice told him. 

Peter didn't remember moving to a more secluded spot. His brain was too busy playing images of what could have happened to her-had he not gotten there in time- over and over again. Every scenario that was played ended in him being responsible for her spilled blood. 

The air felt heavy, the weight making it nearly impossible to breathe. His heart was thumping against his chest. 

Peter wanted to sit down. But also stand up. He felt like he was going to throw up. He leaned over, his hands now on his knees. It felt like he was drowning, desperate to reach out for anything-

"Peter?" He looked up towards the calm, steady voice. 

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" Peter repeated over and over. He couldn't trust his own eyes. 

"Peter, I'm fine. You saved me back there." 

"I saved you?" Peter had a hard time believing it. 

"Yeah, you saved me. And then you almost broke that dude's jaw, which I honestly don't blame you, I was ready to-"

"I saved you?" She tilted her head in confusion at his question. Then her eyes softened. She didn't know the whole story, the truth of what actually happened at the clock tower. But even with the official cover version, it became clear why he was having a hard time believing it. 

"Yes, I'm fine. See?" She took one of his shaking hands and put it over her chest. He could feel it beating, confirming his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. 

"Your heart's beating fast," He whispered, his eyes locked on the hand she was holding.

"Because I'm worried about you. You're having a panic attack," She said calmly. 

"H-how do you know?" 

"Because I used to have them all the time. I mean, I still get them occasionally," she explained, like it was no big deal. Like Peter didn't feel like he was dying.      

"Just breathe with me, okay? You want me to tell you a story to distract you? Sometimes that helps me." Peter nodded his head at her offering. 

"Alright, geeze what story," She looked down, trying to think, "Oh!" Her eyes immediately lit up. Peter was certain if she was a cartoon, a lit lightbulb would have appeared over her head. 

"So, when I was five, I had a huge obsession with mermaids. Like any movie or book that had to do with mermaids, I consumed it. So at the beach my family went to, there was this women's boutique. Like, think beachwear your fifty year old Aunt from Jersey would wear." Peter found himself chuckling at the description. 

"So the store was called the Mermaid's Jewel and I would beg to go there. Not for the clothes. My mom and Aunts hated the clothes there, they thought they were so tacky. But I begged to go because it had Mermaid in the name and outside of the store was this really gaudy statue of a mermaid. I'd talk about the store so much, my family started calling me MJ. And that's how I got my nickname. Well, at least my family's nickname." 

Peter smiled, "MJ, huh?" She nodded her head. 

It was then Peter noticed that he could actually take in a breath of air without feeling like he was suffocating. He looked down and saw that his hand was still placed over her chest. He quickly pulled away, hoping that by looking away she couldn't see how red his face had become. 

"How ya feeling?" She asked, "Better?" 

"Yeah, you're…..you're really good at that," He admitted. Usually when that happened, he would just sit or lie down until the feelings passed. Sometimes it would take minutes. Sometimes it would take up to an hour.  

Peter didn't know how much time had passed since punching the rando and the end of her story. But he didn't care. 

"Thanks. I mean, I just did what I like to do when I have them. Everyone's different. I'm honestly surprised you let me touch you," She admitted. Peter didn't blame her. He hadn't been the most affectionate. 

Besides holding her hand. And that was just to make sure she didn't get lost. 

"Do you…..wanna get out of here? We can go back to my place?" She offered. 

"You….you still want to continue this date?" Peter blurted out. As soon as he said it, he knew how ridiculous it sounded. Miss Sunshine just coached him through all that. If she wanted to leave, the time to do so would have been when Peter was punching that creep. Or when they went to a more  secluded spot. Or when he was too busy trying to find a spot on the ground to focus on so he wouldn't dry heave. 

"That….that was dumb. Of me to ask! You're not dumb, far from it. That's the quickest I've gotten through one of those, those uh-"

"Panic attacks?" 

"Yeah." Realization then hit Peter like a freight train. 

"I dropped your ice cream." 

She laughed, despite the hint of sadness in her eyes. She took his hands into her's. It was then Peter realized that despite her hands being much smaller, they fit pretty well with his. 

Odd. 

"It's okay. I think I now owe you some ice cream." She laughed softly, bringing a smile to Peter's face. 

"I passed a bodega on the way to your place. We could stop there?" Peter suggested. 

"I'd like that," She nodded. Peter grabbed her hand as they began walking. 

Not because he thought he'd lose her. 

It was just nice. 

✓✓✓✓✓✓✓✓

"No, put it back." Peter ordered. A pout formed on her face, one that she probably learned from her students. 

"We came in for one thing! Ice cream, remember?" He motioned towards the basket he was carrying. Peter got a basket specifically because they were only there for one thing. 

"The pretzels are for the ice cream!" She explained, holding the bag up. 

"Pretzels would go terrible with mint chocolate chip and raspberry sorbet," Peter retorted. 

"They go great with chocolate chip cookie dough." 

"We don't have…." She motioned towards the basket. Peter looked down. To his surprise, a pint of chocolate chip cookie dough was there. He looked back at her, confused and also impressed. 

"How did you….." She giggled. Peter hated it. One person shouldn't be that fucking cute. 

"I'm sneaky like that." She shrugged with a coy smile, putting the bag of pretzels in the basket as she walked by Peter. 

"We're checking out now," He told her, despite knowing it would fall on deaf ears. 

"I need pizza rolls," She explained, like it was clear as day. 

"We did not come here for pizza rolls!" Peter felt like he was talking to a child. 

Why did he agree to this? 

"Ayyo!" The owner of the Bodega called from the register, "If ya lady wants pizza rolls, let'er get 'em!" 

"Oh, um she sh-she isn't m-my-" Peter tried to get out, his face bright red. 

"Thank you!" Sunshine called out before turning to Peter, "We should listen to Al, he's pretty great and wise." 

"Because he knows that once you put some pizza rolls in the basket, you're gonna get like five other things and then I'll have to get a cart!" He whispered, not wanting to face Al's scolding. 

After several minutes of whisper arguing, Peter and the little sassy ball of sunshine were at the cash register, letting Al ring up way more than one item. 

Al smirked, pointing to her while looking at Peter, "Ya learnin' quickly. She may look sweet but ya girl's a feisty one."

"She i-is…I mean, I-I'm-" Peter tried to get out. 

"He is learning quickly Al!" She said with a grin that Peter wanted to wipe off her face. Whether he wanted to accomplish that with his sleeves or another part of his body-

Why would he want to do that? Oh fuck. Did he want to do that? 

No. He didn't. Right? 

"He seems like'a good egg for ya" Al said to her. She nodded her head, running a hand up and down Peter's arm. The touch sent a chill up his spine. 

Why did this Bodega insist on making the store so cold? 

Peter grabbed the shopping bags, trying (and failing) to hide his flustered face. 

"He is," She said, motioning to Peter, "Have a good night Al!" 

"Do you know how infuriating you are?" Peter asked as soon as they were outside of the Bodega. 

"Are you that upset he thought I was 'ya lady's?" She asked, crossing her arms over her chest. Despite the body language, her face was relaxed. Just a raised eyebrow to indicate how curious she was to hear Peter's response. 

It was aggravating. 

"No!" Peter stopped, realizing now he has to actually think about why he was so frustrated. 

It was her, it had to be. She was so grating with her sweet, calm voice. So repulsing with her cuffed overalls, that had a stray flower sticking out from one of the pockets. So unbearable with her soft skin, kind eyes, calming nature, kissable lips-

Kissable? What an inaccurate adjective to describe her lips. They were soft (well they looked soft), and always tinted with a soft rosy hue. She did this odd thing where she'd bit her bottom lip when she was deep in concentration-

"Are you even listening or did you get lost in my eyes again?" Her words snapped Peter out of the daze her horrible, lavender perfume put him in. 

"I do not get lost in your eyes," Peter sputtered, thrown in the air out of exasperation. 

"Oh what? You space out and it happens to consistently land on my eyes when you face me at any angle?" She snorted. 

"Okay, so I look at your eyes sometimes! Eye contact is very important, or so they told me! I don't just look at your eyes-"

"Sometimes you look at my lips. I'll give you that too." She shrugged. 

"I do not…y-you are insinuating a lot here, Little Miss Sunshine!" 

"I think you're trying to insinuate I'm not your type. Which is hilarious considering how you look at me and hold my hand!" Peter began to walk away, but then she had to make a comment about him holding her hand and he turned around. 

"I hold your hand like anyone who forgot the human leash would!" 

"Oh, they squeeze the hand without thinking about it and brush their thumb back and forth?" 

"Y-You are s-so small and in-infuriating!" He managed to get out. 

Miss Sunshine leaned in, her lips dangerously close to his, "Really? You seem to like it a lot, Peter." 

The only way to shut her up, the only way to wipe that smirk off her face, was to kiss her. Simple as that. It was just a way to get her to-

Who the fuck was he kidding? 

Her lips were soft. They tasted like vanilla. First she smelled great, now she tasted great too? Peter needed to find out where she got the audacity. 

After he was done kissing her. 

She broke away to collect air. The smirk was still on her face. His hands were still cradling her neck.  

"Wipe that smirk off your face." 

"Make me." 

Kissing her was the best course of action. Besides, it felt really good when Miss Sunshine weaved her hands through his hair.  

✓✓✓✓✓✓✓✓

Somehow, they got back to her apartment. It took everything it had in Peter not to reveal his alter ego so he could pick her up and swing her back. 

It was rusty at first. The mechanics a distant memory. Soon it became familiar once again, like riding a bike for the first time in years. 

She somehow managed to put the plastic bags somewhere in her apartment. That was pretty impressive considering Peter was pressing her up against the kitchen wall. 

They broke away for oxygen, her hair tickling Peter's chin as she buried her face into his chest. 

The scent of her conditioner smelled of mint and rosemary. It was the cool scent that brought him out of the mile-high cloud he was in. 

He was kissing her. 

He. Was. Kissing. Her. 

Oh God, what was he doing? 

He stumbled backwards, letting go of her. He took in the sight of her, gasping for air and gripping the counter. 

Horror washed over him. No, this wasn't supposed to happen. He never intended to get this far. He never let it get this far, what had he done? 

"W-we can stop," She suggested, her voice small, "I k-know it's been awhile for-"

"You don't know me." It was true, not malicious. She didn't know him. She didn't know about what he had truly seen, what plagued his mind. What he did at night. 

She didn't know any of those things. So why was he doing this with her? 

"It's only our second date," She explained, her confidence faltering with each spoken word. 

"Then why are we doing this?" He whispered, trying to make sense of it. He had spent years successfully avoiding this. The last time he had genuinely done this was with-

No. That couldn't be it. That was impossible. Because he didn't deserve that and had accepted that long ago.

"Be-because we like each other?" She tried to make it sound like it was obvious. But by the way her eyes were dullening, she thought otherwise. 

"This was a mistake. I'm sorry. I-I….I never wanted to hurt you," the part was true. It was why he had been avoiding being in this situation for almost a decade. 

She scoffed, "if you're doing what I think you're doing…."

"I gotta go. I-I'm s-so sorry." 

He heard her call his name. He just ran out the door, desperate to get out and away. His breathing was shallow, coming out in short gasps. He wanted to vomit. He was suffocating-

Right. She called them panic attacks. 

He got back to his apartment, quickly putting on his masked vigilante ensemble. He could clear his head, he had to when he put on the mask. 

Peter swung around, desperate for a distraction. He noticed an odd, glowing light coming from an alley. He swung down, thankful for the interruption. 

He walked towards the light, it looking almost like a window with the way the source flickered. Each time he thought he was getting closer, he felt like he was moving further away from the alley. 

As he stepped through, his stomach, every bone in his body lurched forward. He felt sick, like he was on a rollercoaster. The sensation lasted both briefly and for what felt like an eternity. 

When he opened his eyes (when did he close them?), He was back in the alleyway. He slowly swung out, trying to keep his presence hidden. 

Something was off. Way off. 

It wasn't just the alert system that sent shockwaves through his body, a sensation due to a Spider bite he received years ago. 

It was the off-putting, mildly disorienting feeling you received when you saw a well known logos in the wrong color or font. 

It was New York City. 

But it wasn't his city. 

His attempt to take in all the differences was cut off when the hairs on the back of his neck pointed him towards the left. 

Peter turned, raising his hand out in time to catch a brick that was targeted towards his head. 

He heard his name called. Spider-Man. Parker. Peter. 

How would they know? That was impossible. 

"You think a new suit will make us forget about what you did to Mysterio?" An angry voice called out. 

Who the hell was Mysterio? 

Peter swung out of the way, needing to get further up between the buildings, away from the crowds. 

He pulled out his phone, repeating the ten digits of May's number in his head as the call went dead every time. 

Something was wrong. Awfully wrong.

He was in New York City. 

And yet he wasn't. 

And the face on the huge digital televisions in Times Square. The face the news had attached to his name. Peter Parker. 

That was not him. 

What the fuck was going on? 

Hi! I love your new Hogwarts au series! My introverted, social anxious, Hufflepuff heart is screaming <333

Thank you for taking the time to send this 🥺 it made my morning. Social anxiety is so hard to deal with and I’ve never seen anything written on it before especially for Andrew!Peter so I had a fine I’ll do it myself moment after an anxiety attack awhile back haha. I’m working on part 2 and I’m very very excited for it!

❤ The Amazing Spider-Man: Cheesy Valentines Cards❤

Chapter 4 of Spidey-Moon will be up today! Also going to work on some requests!