Warnings: soulamtes!au, reader has arachnophobia
Summary: when someone turns twenty, they see the red thread of fate. But you, you saw a spider web.
_
You could write a fucking ten volume thesis on why life sucks. Like literally. Because:-
You had arachnophobia.There were bloody lot number of arachnids in the world.You realised you have a job interview in an hour.And wait. Waking up and finding yourself covered in something sticky was the last thing you wanted.
So naturally you screamed. No regrets, of course. And in your opinion, you had every fucking right to do so. It's not everyday you wake up in sticky stuff (no dirt, please) which you firmly believe is nothing other than spider webs.
There was a shuffling outside your door, and you saw a tuft of blonde hair poking into your room.
"Y/n, everything alright?" Gwen asked as she slowly entered the room.
You could have conjured some creative swears like, 'bucky boobies' or 'kiss my sass, but does everything look alright?', but you were hinged from the edge of the bed, not to mention, with a spider web (or spider webs?) and you pounced on keeping your mouth shut.
But anyway. "There is a fucking spiderweb around me! Sticky and ew," you tried not to throw up at the mammoth amount of web and idea of a bloody nine feet spider.
Gwen passed you a pointed look, and twirling on the ball of her feet muttered something which you hardly cared about at the moment.
A second passed. And then another. Finally your roommate let out a huge breath (and when you tell it's huge, just fucking believe it already), finally looking at you. "A web? A transparent web?"
You wanted to yeet and jump on your feet but the sight of your half body that was a centimetre away from the floor, genuinely stressed Gwen.
"It's around me," you whimpered. "Sp-spi-spIDER WEB!"
"What day is it? Wait-" waiting with a web around you wasn't on your priority list but you didn't blink in agreement. "It's your birthday, darling! You are twenty!"
You barked out a laugh. "Really? What a way to ruin my day! I've an interview at Oscorp... like in forty-five minutes?"
"You don't understand!" Gwen scratched the roots of her silky hair, blinking her eyes unnaturally. "It's the red fate day for you!"
"Except it isn't a red string I see," you quipped nonchalantly, quite forgetting about spiders. "It's a web."
There was a sudden sound, one that you would describe as an expired elastic (or is it, malfunctioning?) and the ropes of firm yet fragile looking webs snapped, causing you to tumble straight onto the floor, headfirst, mind you. You groaned loudly, rubbing your nose while Gwen had her hands tightly clasped onto her mouth, trying to subdue her laugh.
"Oscorps," Gwen gave a tight lipped grin, tapping the door with her fist,"in forty."
"Happy fucking birthday to me."
---
Peter only felt a constricting movement as if his limbs were contorted and there was a loud, deafening scream (definitely, Aunt Mae's good morning) straight over him. Wait, really?
He blinked and squinted in the harsh sunlight and his first thought was to focus his vision on Aunt Mae.
But no.
He screamed.
Not out of fear (well, partly, yes out of fear) but at the fact that he was covered in webs. His own webs? Maybe. Maybe not.
He tried to shuffle back into the blanket, but Aunt Mae cleared her throat. "Good morning, Peter."
"Aunt- Aunt Mae," Peter tried (and miserably failed) to wrap the blankets like a cocoon, "everything okay, yeah okay?"
"Come on, Peter, it's your birthday! My boy is so big," Aunt Mae tip-toed towards him planning to share a hug, and Peter did the most illogically genius thing in the world.
He threw a pillow at Aunt Mae, and the second there was a snap, followed by the loosening of the webs, he bolted out of his room.
"Sorry, Aunt Mae, have to rush to the washroom! Love you!"
So two things were clear:-
Aunt Mae couldn't see the webs.And the whole hush about the red string fate thingy was a scam.
How satisfying, Peter huffed as he punched his spidey-suit into his shoulder bag, making a mental note to bring Aunt Mae a cake as an apology, even though it was his birthday.
---
You sulked as your trainers hit the ground. The whole world practically oozed out 'welcome to hell hole, kiddo' vibes. All you wanted to do today was sleep, eat, netflix and who cares next. But here you were walking into the subway, passing a very calm old lady, who smiled gently at you. If it would have been a brat, you would have retorted with a 'do I give you "i'm peopley person vibes"?', but you just passed a strained and twisted smile to her.
You had to take a subway to crap hole- you mean, Oscorp, which would take at least ten minutes, meaning you would be late by five minutes. Great.
However, you stood back, not taking the train that was crawling because it was filled upto the brim. Getting more late doesn't matter now, does it?
So here you were, tugging your earphones to leave the worries of the world, your laptop tucked nicely in your hold as you waited for the next train. You saw a few guys who looked in their late twenties, all cladded in cargo clothes, and decided to plainly ignore it. Of course, you were never the one to know what is potential danger and what is harmless.
You caught the light of the train from the periphery of your eyes and before you could put two into two about what the hell was going on in the world, your laptop was snatched, there was a big siren at a distance, ear whacking screams and the last thing you remember was falling towards the rails as your death (and the train) was just stretching it's non existent arms towards you.
---
You woke up with a startling pain in your head. Better explanation? Think you are throwing a handful... or scratch that. You are throwing a cauldron full of thumb pins straight towards someone.
And now imagine that someone being you. Fun, right?
You groaned at no one in particular and when you opened your eyes, your first impression was that this thing looming over you was a red and blue cloud. Or is it red and blue melted marshmallow? You couldn't make out, all thanks to the foggy vision. The blurry blob over you titled it's head (you are thinking of them as a marshmallow, 'it' is the correct pronoun), and moved a hand around in the air.
"You are alive?"
You winced at the question. "I- I what? What do you think, Marshme-, what do you think, huh? What dO YOU FEEL?"
Peter peevishly looked away, and if you could blush behind a spandex, he bloody did.
"Right, sorry."
You huffed at him and mumbled 'stupid web', snatching a stray piece of web (which hopefully won't be visible to him). "So, educate me on how I'm here."
"Oh well," Peter let out an embarrassed squeal, "I just pulled you before the train could make you fly."
"Who are you? Or what are you?"
You watched as Mr. Marshmallow tutted from behind his mask, putting his gloved hand for a handshake.
"Spider man."
You screamed for the second time in the day, kicking the blankets, having every mind to even kick this spider guy out of the window.
"GO AWAY, SPIDERRR! YOU ARE A SPI-SPIDER!!"
Peter doubled back in terror and just in order to not actually get kicked out, he made the second foolish decision.
"Hey, I'm not really a spider-"
Apparently it was too late. You had kicked him square on the jaw, and what didn't help was that you both were now covered and bound in spiderwebs, which seem to come out of nowhere.
Stupid fate, stupid fear, stupid spidey soulmate and of course this stupid web.