*.midnight Whispers.*

*•.¸♡midnight whispers♡¸.•*

pairing: college!peter parker x college!Muslim!reader

summary: reader is peter's partner living across the world── literally, and this is what it's like to date him.

warnings: mentions of guilt tripping, 'if one more thing gets thrown at me I will have a breakdown', patience testing, spiraling mental health, fear of parents, lame sex jokes, slight angst, mostly fluff tho.

note: no gender specific pronouns used!! this oc is very personal 🌚 BUT I tried to make them as relatable as possible for everyone <3 enjoy!!

gifs are not mine I couldn't choose a Peter to think of while writing this 👩‍🦯

Catching a breath seemed impossible today with the amount of housework your mom seemed to have piled up for you, it was one task after the other and you couldn't even sit down for a break.

Your arm was sore from the amount of scrubbing and wiping you've done, your back is sore from how long you've been standing around the house and kitchen, and you were in dire need for a shower. And a well deserved nap.

By the time you were done, it was already 10pm and you were starting to get anxious, it's 2pm in New York, which meant that Peter is on his way home from college. You usually text him to make sure he got home safely but only call him when it's past 6pm for him, that's when he usually finishes patrol and starts doing his homework.

Your directly younger sibling was the only one that knew about Peter being your boyfriend, but they didn't know the things you knew about him. Like the fact that he's spider-man, or that he's a year or so older than you.

You took a minute to sit and hold your phone in the kitchen where you were supposed to grab a cup of water, instead you scrolled through your phone and texted Peter if he's made it home yet.

As soon as you pressed send, your mom walked in and your heart accelerated, without taking your eyes off of her your fingers worked from memory to hide your conversation with Peter and press into another with your best friend, who also happen to be somewhere in New York.

You texted them a quick hello as your mom raised a suspicious eyebrow, you only hummed in question and when she shook her head, you dropped yours, knowing that if you pretended any longer she will catch on to you.

Having a boyfriend was one of the biggest 'no-no's you could ever have from your parents. They always warned you about talking to strangers online but that created the best friendships you've ever had. You no longer connect with the kids from your college and not having friends have made you lonely── and not the good kind fo lonely. Having an online social life was the only escape you could have from your reality.

"Can I see your phone?" your mom asked, demanded actually, but she managed to mask it up as a request. "Why?" you asked, a slight whimper in your tone and you curse yourself. She will definitely be taking it now. "Just because, hand it over."

You knew that arguing will get you nowhere, and she might take it for longer than just a few hours, so with a silent sigh you pass her the phone after locking it, and she hides a smirk before walking out.

Privacy wasn't a thing anymore, you believe, every time you do the tiniest of things it has to mean you've done a scandal that will bring shame to the rest of your family, when truly it's just a skipped video or a text from a friend. You've grown scared to talk about certain topics with your non-Muslim friends in fear your parents (more likely your mom) to see those conversations and come up with her own wild assumption that you can't really defend yourself against because she's already made up her mind about you.

And it's so upsetting because you get to see your friends or these random people in your day-to-day life, and you get to hear about the amazing relationship that they have with their parent and it makes you so sad knowing that you can't have that. That you won't ever have that because sharing the simplest of details from your life with her will lead to a lecture and an argument and a long road of guilt trip that you're not ready to go down on, so you just keep your mouth shut and smile. It's how things are, it's how they always will be.

By midnight, you ask for your phone back from your dad. He's the only one who remotely listens to you and treats you like an adult; unlike your mom who's still thinks of you as a 16 years old child. "I have an online lecture at 10 tomorrow morning, you both will be at work, how am I supposed to attend?" was your excuse, and you weren't exactly lying.

Your dad sent you an exaggerated look tied to a tired sigh before disappearing into his room and coming back out a few minutes later with your phone in hand. He handed it over but kept a grip on it when you grabbed it, "you're a grown person, you know what's right and what's wrong, so please don't do anything stupid."

You simply nodded, unable to meet his eyes as you shuffled back to the room you share with your siblings. It was moments like these did you fear that you'd feel regret for dating Peter. He was and always will be the only genuine decision you've made that made you truly happy, and as awful as it sounds, some time he was the only reason why you'd get out of bed everyday. He might not know it, but Peter was a huge part of your life.

And you prayed whenever you could that you could have him one day, that you could hold him in your arms and get to call him yours, because he was the only thing keeping you together when things seem so out of control that you just want to crawl under a rock and disappear.

Peter was your salvation, he was your sweet getaway and he understood you like no other. Because even though he knew this thing between the two of you is not going to last forever, he's grown to love you regardless, and he wasn't afraid nor shy when he told you.

You were on the phone with him that day, you'd stayed on the phone with him all night and even as you slept, which was a huge risk seeing as your parents could've easily walked in on you in the phone with him, but when you woke up and found him still there, awake and admiring you through the screen, a volcano of butterflies erupted in your stomach and goosebumps rose on your skin.

His wonderful 'I love you' was so random you thought he was joking, but he repeated it again and again, with more force behind it every time, as if he's forcing you to believe him. But you were already in love with him too, and as much as it terrified you and told you to stop and run, you didn't. You said it back with just as much emotions, but you cried as soon as you hung up.

You cannot choice him over your religion, so it was only a matter of time before you two separated, and the idea of the amount of pain you'll have to go through clenched your heart unbearably, and you'd spend hours of the night crying, and your pillow has become your best friend as it heard your cries and witnessed your heartbreak before it actually happened.

The longer you're with him the painful this will be, and you knew that, but you still couldn't bring yourself to stay away from him because you knew, no one will ever come close to him. No one will ever compare.

It wasn't until 3am did you call Peter, the clock had just rolled around 7pm for him and you were certain he was home. Your phone rang, over and over again until it didn't, you didn't dare make a sound until you've heard Peter shuffle on the other end.

"Pete?"

At the sound of your voice, the boy let out an agonizing moan and then there was a grunt, heavy breathing and some more groans.

You pursed your lips, "Peter I swear if you're jerking off right now-"

Peter's camera opened, and it showed him on his bed with a gushing wound across his chest. The gasp that escaped you was unannounced, and you slammed a hand against your mouth to keep quiet. Your whole family was asleep, the last thing you need right now is someone waking up to you chatting with Peter.

"What happened? What the hell happened?" you hiss. He was still in his spider suit and you assume he just got home. Peter winces as he slips off his suit slowly, trying not to disturb his wound any more and not cause himself any kind of extra pain. "Just a bad run in with a gang, nothing I couldn't handle." he groans again and you're left to wonder if he's right.

"how deep is that? It looks deep. But you're still bleeding red which is good. I think you should head to a hospital Peter, please."

He shakes his head, "Too many questions, I'm just gonna stitch myself up."

You stare at him unbelievably, "Your organs could have been impacted, dumbass. You can't stitch yourself up with potential internal bleeding! Please go to the hospital or something, please? You could die!" your urgency for him to react or do something didn't affect him, and it pissed you off.

"Or I'll just call Gwen, she'll know what to do."

You clench your jaw at her mention, "she's not a doctor, Parker."

You never held anything against Gwen. Except for the fact that she's your boyfriend's ex and that she knows he's spider-man and that she gets to see him and touch him and be with him while you can't.

"She knows some medical stuff, it's better than nothing, right?"

You want him safe, so you mutter out a response and let him call her, then he came back to your call and laid back on his bed. The phone was set up against his desk and you had a clear view of his body.

He looks tired, sweat beads across his body and his hair a mess, he keeps grimacing every time he breathes too deeply and his hands had turned to fists holding onto his sheets.

You wished there was a way you could help him, he seemed to be in so much pain and you could cry at how desperate you were to help him. It was moments like these you wished you were there with him, holding his hand and brushing out his hair, doing whatever you could to make his pain better.

But then the door knocked, and Gwen walked in and she gasped, the she got to work. He keeps talking to her, following her instructions, and she keeps cursing him for his recklessness, then she says something that renders you silent.

"What would y/n think of you like this?"

Peter scoffs, "they're right there," he points at the phone across from them and Gwen only now notices, "they told me to go to the hospital but I called you instead. I was gonna stitch myself up."

"thank God you didn't."

Thirty minutes later, and he was all stitched and cleaned up thanks to Gwen, she leaves him to get dressed and make him some soup to help him heal faster and he sits on his desk, his head resting on the wood as he keeps his eyes on you.

It was dark in your room, he can make out the outline of your head hiding beneath the blanket, he can make out the placement of your eyes, nose and lips and it causes a tiresome smile to spread across his lips. "You're beautiful." he states.

You roll your eyes, "You can barely see me."

"I don't need to see you to tell you you're pretty."

Your heart warms, and you can feel yourself heat up under his gaze. He never fails to make you flutter and flustered, just listening to him talk gets you through the worst of moods and it doesn't matter what time it is, you will stay up for days if it meant you can have a few minutes long conversation at the end of it all.

"how was your day?" you ask, prompting him to start talking. Peter likes to rant, and you've always been a good listener, you'd sit back and hear him go on for hours about his classes or this new tech he's trying out for his suit, or the criminals he's come across that day or whatever sassy comebacks he's made. It doesn't matter what it is, as long as it's something to get your mind off of your day.

He seems to notice your dimmed mood though, because he shakes his head and lays it on his arm. He looks seconds away from passing out. "I always talk about my day first, you should tell me about yours this time, please?"

He sounds so pretty saying please. "I didn't have the best of days to be honest, I worked a lot, didn't eat until midnight I think, mom took my phone a few hours ago but I have a lecture in..." you trail off to look at the time on the corner of your screen, "seven hours so dad gave it back."

Peter furrows his eyebrows, an adorable crease forms between them and a soft frown on his lips. "Seven hours? What time is it?"

"three in the morning." you knew you were about to get yelled at, but you didn't care.

"Three?! y/n, baby, go to sleep. You need it if you want to stay awake through your lecture."

"I want to talk to you though, we haven't talked properly in a while." you whine and he purses his lips just as Gwen walks into his room with a bowl of warm soup. He thanks her and she instructs him to drink his soup before leaving, something about catching up on work or something. You didn't really pay attention.

"I'll make you a deal, alright? You go to sleep right now, and I promise to call you first as soon as I can tomorrow, yeah?"

"but you have four lectures tomorrow." it was a suitable argument and Peter rolls his eyes. "I don't care! I promise I'll call you, just please get some rest? You need it."

There's no getting out of this one, because you knew if you continue whining against his wishes he'll hang up the phone a d you're going to spend the rest of your night going through your instagram explore page, so you groaned and got comfortable on your bed, head still hiding underneath the blankets to keep your ears warm from the cold AC.

"will you sleep on the phone with me?" you're not the one to suggest this usually, and it's the only thing Peter needs to know that you've had a really rough day. Your voice was small, scared you might be rejected, but he only beams up at you. "Happily, just let me finish this soup so Gwen doesn't murder me."

When your life spirals out of control, or when you feel overwhelmed, you know Peter was there. Even if he's not here physically, he's always with you. And no matter what happens, you know you could always falls back on him and he'll hold you up, because that's what you do for each other. You're each other's escape, each other's joy and happy dreams, even if you don't last forever.

These midnight whispers are more than enough for you to feel loved and wanted, and you didn't want to feel that by anyone if it wasn't Peter.

Pls reblog if u vote :)

Listen up!

You see a post like this? Where OP might hurt/kill themselves? You hit that button that I circled

Hit that.

Click Suicide or Self-harm Concern

Yes.

Fill in the rest of it, and hit submit. The "content you reported" will fill itself in

Tumblr will follow up and help them.

Warning: this is only for mobile. If anyone knows how to do this for desktop, please add it!

This could SAVE SOMEONE'S LIFE.

YOU HAVE NO EXCUSE NOT TO REBLOG THIS.

I DON'T GIVE A FUCK IF IT DOESN'T GO WITH YOUR BLOG'S THEME.

And yes, REBLOG. Liking does no shit at all. This isn't ig.

You reblog, people see it. You don't, people don't see it. This shit's that simple.

This could save someone's life. It's not a joke.

Americans have American privilege. Even if you don’t want it! Even if thinking about that fact makes you feel uncomfortable! Even if you’re in an oppressed group (or more than one) in America!

If you’re an American citizen that comes with a mind-blowingly large amount of privilege with respect to most other countries on Earth.

Just because American SJ activists don’t talk about this (because it makes them uncomfortable) doesn’t mean it isn’t true.

So! Giving my reblogs to this amazing art by @providencehq their own post so I can keep adding on to this fic at my own leisure.

Please don't ask to be tagged. I'm relegated to mobile and simply cannot keep up with a taglist. All additions will be going in the reblogs on this post, though. So feel free to come back here periodically to see if I've added more.

I'm currently up to 3 chunks with 1 more in planning.

So, without further ado:

Caught and Content

Daniel James Fenton had died at 14.

And every day since then he has counted as a blessing. Especially the good ones, but even the bad ones. The terrible ones. The days so horrid that Danny wouldn’t wish them on the worst beings in the universe. Danny treasured them still. Because every breath, every too slow heart beat, even the ones that pulsed with terror and exhaustion and agony, every one was a miracle. A moment of life that Daniel James Fenton wasn’t meant to have any more.

Borrowed time.

That’s what it was.

Danny had been living on borrowed time since he was 14. And he had long since made peace with the fact that his borrowed time would some day run out.

He’s 20 now. 6 whole years he wasn’t meant to live but did anyway.

A few more months and Danny would be 21, old enough to buy his first alcoholic drink. But even if he lived that long now, he wouldn’t get the chance. The GIW would ensure that. Tuck had celebrated his 21st a couple months ago, and Sam a few months before him. Danny would never get to celebrate his with them.

But that was okay. As said, Danny had long since made peace with the uncertain nature of his borrowed time. He didn’t need to go out to a bar with his friends and celebrate that he had survived 21 whole years. It would have been a lie anyway.

Daniel James Fenton had died when he was 14.

He was in the Watchtower now. Power suppression cuffs and collar making his already battered body feel even more weak and achy. Batman was staring at him. Superman and Wonder Woman seemed to be telling him things. Or asking. Interrogating. Danny paid them no mind. No answer he’d given them before seemed to satisfy. And he already knew what would come next.

These were government sanctioned heros. They were bound to the law. And the law said Danny must be turned over to the GIW. And since Danny had already escaped them and his parents once, he doubted they’d be keen to lock him up again. Research be damned, Phantom was too dangerous to be left alive. Or whatever facsimile of alive Danny existed in right now. Daniel James Fenton had died when he was 14.

So Danny ignored the government sanctioned superheros. He didn’t let his mind wander to tomorrows he’d never have. He had made peace with his death. So now he took every moment left of his breathing beating blessing to turn his gaze out the large Watchtower window.

Nothing else mattered as Danny beheld, breathed in, drowned in the last he’d ever see of the infinite beauty of the cosmos. He let himself relax, smile, and relish in the miracle of being here, of being allowed to see it one last time. And up so close, too.

And when the heros grew tired of Danny’s distraction. When they led him to a new room without any windows to peer out of. Danny stayed relaxed. Stayed smiling. He closed his eyes and waited for his borrowed time to run out. Even as Batman stared and Superman and Wonder Woman interrogated and the power suppression devices drained him of excess energy and he’s pretty sure the GIW were on their way to arrange his execution; he was contented.

Danny was not afraid. He was happy. At peace. Why would he be scared? After all, Daniel James Fenton had died at 14. Every moment since has been a blessing he has been grateful to have.

Because

Daniel James Fenton had died at 14.

OK so this is just me being curious but like I wanna know during finals do you just do you exam and go home or do you like do a full day cause like for me we just do the exam and go home but sometimes we have huge breaks between the exams even though we don't have any classes like tmr I have an exam that finishes at 10 15 and then another exam at 1 15 and I can't even go home between them cause I don't have anyone to like come and take me home so I have to stay at school and do absolutely nothing for the 3 hrs between my exam which finishes at 2 15 and then I have to wait till like 3 30 for my mom to be able to come pick me and my brother up. anyways I'm just really curious so like if you can pls answer me and GL for everyone during finals.