Series Tasm!peter Parker X Reader - Tumblr Posts
Venomed
Summary: What once was a beautiful relationship with Peter, turns quite venomous…
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death.
Notes: Fun fact, I first started this blog with a venom!reader x peter parker story (that I never got around to finishing, whoops) so here’s my attempt at one with tasm! Peter. hope you enjoy ♡
Part 2 Part 3
Part 1
“We can’t do this anymore,” he says.
There's tears in his eyes and it makes you angry because how dare he act like this is hurting him as much as it is you when he’s the one choosing to do this.
“Peter, don’t….”
“I’m not going to go through this again. I can’t go through this again. Please don’t reach out to me. Don’t call me, don’t even think about me. I’m going to stay away and for this to work, I need you to do the same.”
Your eyes are clouded with unshed tears and you dig your nails into your palm to keep them at bay because he doesn’t deserve your tears. Not when he’s willingly putting you through this.
“You…you said you loved me,” is all you let out, and you see the muscles in his neck tense up.
“That’s exactly why I’m doing this.”
A tear falls down his face and you instinctively reach out to him but he immediately steps back.
“I don’t get a say?” you ask and your voice cracks and you curse yourself for being so weak in front of him.
You wish you were stronger. You wish you could be angrier. Anything to show him that you didn’t give a damn about him breaking your heart because someone that put you through this much pain didn’t truly love you and didn’t deserve for you to love them back.
“You get to say goodbye.”
But you were never in control of anything when it came to Peter Parker.
“I can’t leave you without telling you why. It’s selfish of me, but I need you to know that it isn’t because I didn’t love you or because you did anything wrong. I…I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I just don’t want your entire life to be spent with me.”
He takes a shaky breath.
“Gwen she….her life was cut short because of me and I…I’m not going to let that happen to you. I refuse,” he says firmly.
You nod slowly, taking in his words.
You’re not going to win this fight. Not when he just admitted that he’s no longer going to fight for you.
“I hate you,” you say surprisingly, eyes locked on his.
He gives you a watery smile but the sadness in his eyes makes it look pathetic.
“Good.”
And he turns around and walks away.
Just like that.
Leaves you alone in front of your favorite Italian restaurant with the take away container of half eaten spaghetti in your hand.
It was your anniversary today.
He broke up with you on your fucking anniversary.
“Asshole!” you scream, but he's completely out of your sight by now and you're not sure if he even heard you and part of you hopes he didn’t because you don’t mean it.
You knew why he was doing this. You knew it was coming sooner or later.
His nightmares were getting worse. He would wake up sweating and shaking and screaming and you would immediately embrace him, rubbing small circles in his back and kissing the top of his head and telling him it was ok because you knew what he was dreaming of.
He never fully recovered from Gwen’s death.
The tenants from the apartment building you both shared had let you know about his high school sweetheart’s passing before you even had a chance to meet him.
“Poor guy, completely devastated about her, even though it’s been two years. Heard it was a freak accident at a clock tower. One of those whackos after Spider-Man. That’s why you shouldn’t get mixed up in that crap,” one of your neighbors, an old man by the name of Charlie, had told you when you first moved in.
You knew Peter Parker was the man who lived right across from you, his mailbox being right on top of yours in the mailroom. You were intrigued by him, only getting to see him when he went in and out of his apartment, never even being able to talk to him. But now, knowing exactly why he was so mysterious, you were completely devastated.
You couldn’t imagine the pain he was in. So, determined to help, you made it your mission to be as friendly and courteous of a neighbor as you could be.
Whenever you would bake, you would leave tupperware filled with cookies or brownies, or whatever it was you whipped up, at his door, with a little note that said “enjoy” accompanied by a little happy face.
He had caught you one day walking back to your door after dropping some off. You freeze, having halfway entered your apartment, eyes on him.
This was the first time you got more than a rushed glance at Peter and your heart beat rapidly in your chest because he was cute. Very cute.
You brought your hand up to signal a greeting to which he mimicked, albeit a little awkwardly, but he sent you a small smile that warmed up your whole body.
Later on that night, when you open the door to head out, you see a collection of your tupperware neatly placed on your entrance rug with a small note on top.
“Thank you” handwritten with a little happy face.
You couldn't stop smiling the entire night.
You both began to talk casually, exchanging small talk whenever you would cross paths while entering or exiting your respective apartments.
Soon enough he asks if he can have the recipe for your brownies and you suggest he comes over so you could teach him in person. Baking together becomes a common occurrence and even though Peter slightly burns everything he bakes, you always say they're delicious because the smile on his face is worth it every time.
You graduate from friendly neighbors to baking partners to best friends, and eventually he even confides in you his biggest secret.
Finding out he was Spider-Man admittedly threw you through a loop, but it didn’t change how you saw Peter. He was still your best friend and your friendly neighbor from across the hall. If anything, it just made your admiration for him grow, realizing just how selfless and amazing he was.
This, unfortunately, also helped you understand just how deeply Gwen’s death affected Peter.
“I killed her,” he had said one night, eyes red and hands shaking.
You comforted him that night. You comforted him every night since. You had a first aid kit on your nightstand, ready for whenever he knocked on your window after a night of patrolling, and hugs and words of love and encouragement whenever he needed it.
His guilt pained you, his confessions of feeling like it was all his fault eating you up on the inside. But you never tired of fighting him on it.
“You do so much, Pete. You always give it your all and I know you did all you could to save her that night. You need to forgive yourself,” you state, tears in your eyes as he sobs into your neck, arms wrapped around you almost desperately.
Peter carried the weight of the world on his shoulders and you tried everyday to help ease the pressure of it all.
With how close you two had gotten and how much you leaned on one another, it was, of course, inevitable that you fell in love with him.
Despite that, you refused to risk your friendship by confessing to him, knowing that he wasn’t ready to date, let alone love anyone else for that matter.
Yes, you loved Peter, but you were more than fine if he couldn’t love you back. You cared so much for him that you were just happy to have him in your life any way you could.
One day, though, he barges into your apartment.
You were in the middle of watching a bad reality show (a Jersey Shore rerun, you remember), when you turned your head to see him entering, rushing over to you.
“Hey Pete, what’s-”
Before you could even finish, his hands cup your face and he crashes his lips on yours. You’re frozen in place, brain trying to register what was happening, but your eyes slowly close and you're surprised to feel yourself kissing back.
When he parts, your eyes flutter open, and your senses finally start working again.
“Wow,” you breathe out.
“Sorry I just….I couldn’t get it out of my head. I needed to know what that would feel like,” he confesses, forehead resting on your’s as he catches his breath.
There’s a look in his eyes that makes your heart race and you suddenly feel shy under his intense gaze.
“Oh…o-ok. Um, how…how was it?” you ask.
“It was amazing, actually. Which is a problem.”
Your brows furrowed, worried.
“How so?”
“Because I want to do it again.”
Which he does.
Again.
And again.
And again.
The rest was history.
You could continue to think about all the good times, all the romantic moments and passionate memories you shared with Peter Parker, but it’s beginning to rain and you're still standing alone in front of the restaurant, container heavy in your hand.
You don’t remember how you got home, but you do, and you immediately throw yourself on the bed, arms grasping at a pillow as you dig your face in it and sob.
Your heart was completely shattered that night.
And though you refused to believe it, Peter’s was too.
As you layed in bed crying, the container of leftover pasta you left on your kitchen counter began to shake. It falls onto the ground and an odd black substance emerges from it and begins to crawl towards your bedroom. It slides under your door frame and makes its way up your bedpost before crawling on the bed and onto the pillow your head lay on.
You had fallen asleep by this point, dry tear stains on your cheeks.
Without stirring you awake, the black substance slithers it’s way into your ear, and you were none the wiser.
At that exact moment, from right across the hall, Peter had jolted awake from his sleep, screaming your name into the dark.