Peter Parker x Reader

When I Realized

(2010) 

"Hey, kiddo. Come on, you don't...you don't really want to be doing this."

Oh but I did. And so did the master. So I had to do this, or I'd...I don't want to think of what'd happen to me. I'd be murdered, creatively. And I was only eight. "Yes, yes I do." My answer was cut in half by gasps. But I managed. "I have to."

"No, no you don't." The voice that spoke this time was feminine, rather than the first voice, which was definitely masculine. And it was a low drawl; she sounded scary. "You don't have to. You can come with us, where its safe."

"Safe?" I echoed. There was no such thing as safe. And she was kidding. She'd kill me so I couldn't do what I was here to do. And it was too dark for me to see who was talking.

Assassinations weren't easy. But I've killed someone before anyway, it's not like this is new. It's just really big and scary. And since my powers, spotty as usual, were glitching, I couldn't get out of the hold the man had me in. The woman, I knew, was in front of me. I was just waiting for her to hit me.

"Or we could kill you." The man said.

"Barton, shut up." The woman's tone didn't change. "Where are you from, child?"

I snarled. "The Red Room."

The woman's breath hitched. "That's not possible."

"Yeah, well, here I am. And they told me it was called the Red Room." I fought against the man.

"It's probably not the same Red Room, Nat." The man spoke.

Barton and Nat.

"It couldn't be. Listen, child, come with me. We'll take you to where you're safe."

Safe didn't exist. Everywhere I went, I'd be in danger. Someone would want to hurt me, and someone would want to kill me. That's what I'd been taught.

Five months later and I was still living with this assassin woman and her sidekick, and they actually kept me safe. 

That's when I realized 'safe' was a real thing. 

(2011) 

"Hi," the little boy who sat next to me said. "I-I'm P-Peter."

I looked at him carefully. He was kind of cute, in a precious, soft kind of way. He'd die soon, if he was left outside too long, judging by how he shivered. And his aunt had just dropped him off. She kissed his forehead. She told him to make some friends this morning. That would explain why he was talking to me. I knew I was too scary for anyone else to talk to; I made a little girl with too-curly hair cry a few moments ago by simply looking at her too long. But I stared and stared at this little boy, and all he did was turn pink. "Hi Peter. I'm Y/N."

Peter's smile was timid. He was very shy, and he looked sad. "N-nice to meet you-you."

I smiled as pleasantly as I could. "Nice to meet you too. How old are you?"

Peter stared at his hands, folded neatly in his lap. "I'm nine."

"So am I," I offered. 

That's when I realized I could make friends. 

(2015) 

"Peter!" I called, waving across the grass.

Peter, standing up at taller than he had at the end of the year, smiled at me widely from across the campus lawn. He'd grown at least half a foot, Jesus. And he looked really, really good. Three months of summer I just spent in a whole other world, completely absorbed. I emerged from summer smarter, stronger, and with my walls broken further down.

Peter emerged with a half foot gained on me and sporting a perfect, braces-lacking smile. "Hey, Y/N."

"Happy birthday." I threw my arms around him, stepping back almost instantly. Physical contact was still new, but Peter looked pleasantly surprised by the hug.

"Thank you," he sounded happy. He had just turned thirteen. I compared him to the boy I met, four years ago, sitting in front of our elementary, nervous.

Now he looked calm, cool, and collected. And handsome.

It was then that I thought I might've been falling for my best friend.

(2016) 

Natasha gave me a code name. I got to go on missions with her now. She called me 'Strychnine'. I didn't mind that, it was better than being called a number.

"You're a hopeless romantic!" I cried, laughing my ass off.

Peter rolled onto his back with a groan. "No I am not!" And I smacked him with a pillow.

The pillow fort, built on top of his bed, was stuffy. But we didn't really care, just screwing with each other under it and telling deep, dark secrets. Actually, that's not what we did anymore. We already knew each other's darkest secrets. I knew he was SpiderMan.

He didn't know I was Strychnine. That's fine, I'd tell him soon. And if I ignored that thought, me and Peter could laugh under the covers and not worry about it. "You are too."

He frowned. "You're the one who hates it when people call her 'baby' or 'babe.' It has to be 'darling' or 'love." He sat up, licking his lips. "Are you British or something?"

I shook my head, still laughing. "I just like the names, it doesn't matter where I'm from."

Peter pursed his lips, nodding. "Okay, fair enough. Can I call you that?"

I smiled. "Of course."

Peter leaned forward, falling onto the space beside me. The blanket over us glowed from the lights outside, New York all lit up. And they filtered through onto his face, giving him a lovely glow. "Okay, darling."

And that's when I realized I was in love with my best friend.