Hangman’s Tapping Out Ceremony

—SPU’S MASTERLIST

MARVEL

Joaquín Torres-

— PHOTOGRAPH

— STAY FOR BREAKFAST

— NO NEED TO BE DRUNK

— CANT HANDLE IT

soccer player Joaquín

Joaquín angsty “blurb”

— SPARSHA SANGEET

Steve Rogers-

— THIRD AMENDMENT

James “Bucky” Barnes-

— THIRD AMENDMENT

— TOO HOT TO HANDLE

Tony Stark-

— SEVEN MINUTES

Peter Parker (Tom Holland)-

— SEVEN MINUTES

Robert “Bob” Reynolds-

TBD

TOP GUN: MAVERICK

Jake “Hangman” Seresin-

— Hangman’s tapping out ceremony

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw-

— Rooster’s tapping out ceremony

Mickey “Fanboy” Garcia-

— IS THAT X-MEN?

Is this a safe space to say that I love to see injured hot men cry 😿

Rooster’s tapping out ceremony

Bradley already had a bad feeling in his stomach before the ceremony had begun. He was graduating, stepping into his dad’s shoes. He’d looked forward to this day his entire life. Now, when it was actually happening, he couldn’t feel anything but emptiness. He’d lost his dad at five, his mom at sixteen, and he’d basically lost Mav the same day he lost his dad. That’s why, when he was standing in formation with his back pin straight and his hands behind his back, he knew not to get excited. He knew no one was coming to tap him out so what was the point?

Everyone he was graduating with was way younger than him. Ever since Mav pulled his papers, he’d held a deeper resentment for him. He didn’t understand, he was an excellent pilot, why did he pull his papers? Why did Mav keep ruining his life? First his dad and now his career?

Through his peripheral vision, he saw soldiers getting bouquets and little gifts and he felt more bitterness than he did annoyance. Their mothers tearing up at the sight of their kids and calling them sweet names like their “little soldier”. He felt a too familiar twist in his stomach at the nickname. His mother would always call him her little soldier anytime he’d do anything that’d remind her of his dad. The soldier in front of him was the son of a pilot, like him. His stomach twisted more when he saw the man give his son a bear hug. It was more of a tackle than a hug from his perspective.

He’d been so focused on what’s in front of him that he didn’t even see who was approaching him from his four o’clock. He felt a rough hand land of his shoulder and it took him a minute to break from the attention stance. He turned his to the left and saw Mav donning a somber smile.

“What are you doing here?” Bradley spoke with venom in his tone.

“What does it look like, kid?”

Bradley fully turns his body to face Pete with a stern face. The more he looks at Pete’s face, the more his face softens. He didn’t know how to feel, Pete was the whole reason he was behind on his career, why was he so happy to see him? Without even realizing it, Bradley hugged Pete with urgency that he didn’t even realize was holding him back. Pete stumbled back from the sudden force of the hug but returned the hug.

As he Bradley slowly peeled off him, he speaks again.

“Even though you’re the last person I want to see, I’m glad you’re here Mav.” The last part of Bradley’s sentence was more of a mumble but Pete still heard him loud and clear. That was the voice he’d so missed for so many years. Bradley let his head slightly hang trying to avoid eye contact.

Pete gave him a few taps on his shoulder before he spoke again. “That’s…that’s understandable. Do you wanna grab a beer in celebration…?”

All of the softness and endearment left Bradley’s body at Pete’s request.

“I wouldn’t hold my breath.” Bradley inched away from Pete and left him standing by himself awkwardly.

He was so closer by the day to reconcile with the only family he had left, Pete could feel it.

you were on the floor.

your knees were to your chest and your tears flowing nonstop.

joaquín gently rattled his key in the lock and opened the door. he was drenched. his boots squeaked as he shuffled in as quietly as he could. he scoped around the kitchen and living room, looking for a box. the box that was the cause of all of your tears. all of your pain.

it held so many of the items you held close to your chest for the last five years. the hoodies and sweats that always kept you warm in lack of joaquín’s presence, his little trinkets he found at random shops while deployed or on missions, gadgets he’d made when he had too much free time. what hurt most was the ring you’d grown to love so much for the last two years of your relationship.

joaquín had to go on an emergency mission right after the break up. it gave you enough time to pack up and isolate his belongings from yours. you’d saved your favorite items of his for last, too attached to them. only when you’d taped that cursed box did you realize what your life was now. no more of joaquín’s warm and protective arms holding you anymore, no more of his loving kisses that you were obsessed with, but most importantly, no more of the person who loved and knew you most.

your confidant. almost life partner. you’d planned your entire future together. he’d said “i don’t care how many kids we have, as long as i have you with me.”, all you could do was smile at him. you’d wanted a quiet life away from commotion. he’d promised it to you, as if it’d kill him if he didn’t get you everything you wanted. he wanted two dogs and a cat, and an alpaca. he never explained why and you giggled at his nonchalance on it.

the two of you had minimal contact while he was on this mysterious mission. he came back after two weeks. you didn’t leave your apartment once. just stayed watching the wall. sometimes moving to the balcony to look at the bustling city of Washington D.C. you only started packing his things after the third day. first his clothes and shoes, leaving a pair of pajamas and a decent outfit, then his electronics, then everything else, and then the box.

his sister had came by with two of their other cousins to collect the boxes. they’d stuck around for a bit after hauling all of the boxes onto the moving truck that they’d rented. you were close. of course you were close. you were basically family. you’d been at countless birthdays, baby showers, weddings, and gatherings alike. of course they were worried. you shook off their worries with a forced bright smile and affirming words, promising them you were alright. with much reluctance, they left, only after giving you one last bone crushing hug.

he rounded the corner to the room you were basically hiding in. hiding from what? you had no idea. maybe if you didn’t leave, joaquín wouldn’t either. that way you wouldn’t lose each other. he twisted the door handle but didn’t open the door. he left it closed. scared of seeing the bedroom stripped of him. every bit of himself that he’d brought to your life and home taped in a box, on its way back to Miami. “you okay in there?”

you stayed quiet.

“i’m coming in.”

you made no attempt to hide your tears. this was not the worst joaquín had seen you. he’d seen you through everything. nonetheless, no feeling could compare to the sight before him. your eyes were bloodshot—almost as if someone had poked your eyes—and snot was running down your nose. your lips quivered and you breathed little ragged breaths to calm yourself. you were a mess, you both could see it, you just didn’t want it to be too obvious.

“there’s the last of your stuff,” you nodded your head to point towards the box.

“I washed all of the clothes and cleaned everything else in the box, don’t worry.”

your voice was quiet. broken. as if someone had peeled away at the joy from you like paint on a wall. that someone was joaquín, and he did it without even realizing. guilt spread through his body like water to paper and he too could feel tears. “i’m sorry.”

you looked up.

“sorry for what? for saving people? for being a hero?”

“for not being able to keep my promises to you.”

he walks towards you and crouches to your level.

“i promised you a quiet life. far far from here, from the villains and the monsters. i promised you our cat and dogs. a future.”

“don’t beat yourself up, hero life follows you around like a tail.” you let out a broken chuckle.

“it was no excuse for me to not uphold my promise.”

for a moment everything went still. all the resentment and anger that you’d built up against him during his absence seemed to disappear. he was so certain that he was going to marry you. he’d wanted peace and quiet with you. you’d wanted it back with him.

“I’d beg you to stay but i know this is what’s best for us. that no matter how many promises we make to each other, there’ll never be a guarantee. you’re busy falcon-ing and i’m busy not. i need you quino, but i want you to myself, and unfortunately, the world needs you. so you go out there and you kick some bad guy ass, when you decide that you’ve had enough, i’ll be right here. that’s one thing i can guarantee you.” you cup his face with both of your hands and give him a smile. weak, but there.

you rest your foreheads together, your tears starting to slow. you breath in sync, feeling each other for the last time. not feeling physically but emotionally. sharing one last intimate moment.

his face starts to angle closer and closer to yours. you know what he’s doing, you desperately need him to do it. his mouth is a breath away, your heart is beating in anticipation. he pauses just before you make contact, an unsure pause, as if he thought you didn’t want it. you close the gap between you two, assuring him that you do want it. that you do want him.

his movements are slow and shaky. your hands remain on his cheeks and his come to cup yours too. it’s raw. no hurry, no anger, no hard feelings. just two lovers saying their last goodbyes without words. neither of you move. his taste is so sweet, you could be hung on his lips forever. his lips were slightly chapped, nothing you couldn’t handle. they were something you’d grown quite fond of throughout your relationship. he was unlike anyone else you’d ever been with. his kisses were definitely unlike anything you’d ever felt.

it almost killed you to pull away. he opened his eyes to look at you but you kept yours closed. you knew if you opened them you’d see the tears flowing down his face. you’d see the pure dejected look on his eyes that always held joy in them. of course you wanted to see him for the last time, it’s the face of your true love looking at you with pure devotion. joaquín torres is known for being a joyful. his happy go lucky attitude and positivity is basically his trademark. so you almost felt special knowing that you were the only person to see him like this. teary eyed and broken.



I need to make this a Joaquin fic now…

— THIRD AMENDMENT

you exercise your right to deny soldiers housing

pairing: best friends!Bucky and Steve x best friend!reader

wc: 422

warnings: none, just our favorite super soldiers 🤞🏼

authors note: this idea has been radiating in my mind for like ever ngl 😛😛

The sound of laughter echoed from outside of your door as you stood at the other side with your phone at eye level. You giggled waiting for either Steve or Bucky to open the door. They’d received invitations to attend a gala to celebrate World War II veterans and were thrilled to attend. By the sounds of it, they had a good time. Finally, you heard the door knob twist open and you finally start recording. You were greeted with James’ bright face which then contorted to confusion at the sight of your camera. “Yankee Doodle” echoed throughout your foyer as you closed the door on their faces while wiggling your index finger at them.

Steve pushed his face against the glass door trying to see what you were doing. You took the opportunity to get a close up on his face on the glass, trying to keep your hand steady while giggling hard. The fifteen second audio finally ended and your giggles broke out into laughter. You saved the video to your drafts before cracking the door open slightly.

“Whatcha doing there, doll” Bucky asks with a slight smirk.

“Exercising my rights, Sergeant” you reply slyly

“Yeah well technically this is our home too, so it doesn’t really apply does it” Steve replies

“Whose name is on the lease, Captain?”

“Touché” Steve answers

After a beat, you finally open the door wide and they walk in.

“No seriously though, what was that?” Bucky asks as he takes his shoes off

“This one TikTok trend” You say making space for them to enter

“Basically, people will record their loved one’s coming back from enlistment and shut the door on them while the screen says something like “When my roommates try to come back home but I know my third amendment right” get it?”

You walk back to your couch only a few feet away and plop straight down. You sit down and open TikTok once more. The video plays and you can feel Bucky’s and Steve’s body heat from behind you as they watch along. You can hear their chuckles from behind at your antics.

“I like that, that’s funny” Steve chuckles out

“Let’s hope the internet does too” you say after captioning the video and posting it.

They laughed at this I promise 🤞🏼

comments—

tennesseeprincess- Personally I’d fold immediately if CAPTAIN AMERICA showed up at my door but wtvs 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

hrts444u- SMASH.

bannerslover- now who took my pants

dliflvr- doing that to Captain America and Bucky Barnes is crazy 💀

- PHOTOGRAPH

you can’t sleep

pairing: Joaquín x gn!reader

wc: idk somewhere in the 500 range maybe

authors note: chat I need to move to D.C. like rn!!! I went there once like two years ago almost and I still think about it💔💔 also why does no one talk about how difficult it is to find bf material pics of Danny 😞😞

“Babe I can’t fall asleep”, you mumbled in a low tone to your boyfriend sleeping right next to you.

Joaquín had just came back from a “long day of training” so he was out, but a part of you was still hoping maybe he’d wake up and talk to you or something of that sort. Instead, he just hummed lowly and went back to sleep. You tossed and turned for another fifteen minutes trying to find the best position. You took the blanket completely off you, took all of the blanket, even pushed Joaquín all the way to the edge of the bed trying to fall asleep. Eventually, you give up trying and got up to go get a glass of water and some fresh air.

You slowly rolled out of bed and lightly patted your feet across your cold floor and walked out of your shared room. You cracked the door open enough to fit you and slipped out as quiet as you could. You looked out the large glass sliding door which let in the dim Moonlight and walked to your cupboard. You got out your favorite mug and turned to your sink and twisted handle to the cooler side and filled up your mug with the cold water.

You took a quick sip before you walked over to the corner of your couch and slipped your slippers on and went out to the balcony of your and Joaquín’s shared apartment. You took in the view for a bit, then and sat on the lounging chair and set your mug on the coffee table not too far from you. As you sat on the chair with your legs crossed and overlooking the D.C skyline, you heard the glass door slide open behind you. You turned around already knowing who it would be ,and still grinned seeing Joaquín’s tired frame standing against the sliding door.

“Anything on your mind?” he questioned as he took a seat on the second chair.

“Not that I can think of. I just can’t fall asleep for some reason”, you replied.

“Are you sure? You’ve been sorta antsy lately.”

You opened your mouth to speak but quieted down once you realized what your problem was. It’d been six months since his accident, there were still remnants of his burns sitting on his neck, chest, and back. You remember feeling nothing but absolute horror when the hospital called you about his injuries. For nights you couldn’t sleep without nightmares haunting you. Ones where he’d died on the table and after moving on from his death, his ghost would guilt you. Ones where he’d been left permanently injured and in a coma for the rest of his life. They all plagued you like the Black Death, you just couldn’t seem to escape the horr-

“Hellooo? You with me, Angel?” Joaquín pulls you out of your trance.

“C’mon talk to me. What’s bugging you?” He speaks in a gentle tone, scooping you up in the lounging chair so he could sit next to you. Your legs draped over his as you rested your back on the arm rest.

“I…I think it’s because of your accident. I remember, back at the hospital and even when you first returned back home, I’d have these horrible horrible nightmares where you’d be stuck in a coma for the rest of your life or died on the table…” your eyes started to water.

“Hey hey hey look at me, baby.” Joaquín tilts your head up. “I’m fine now , it’s okay. I survived, I’m alright.” He embraced you in his warm and strong arms.

“Your heart stoped Joaquín! They had to restart it!” You sobbed into his chest.

He held you in his arms until all of your tears were spent and your breath was stable. You closed your eyes, really soaking in his presence and love. His heartbeat echoing in your ears letting you know that he’s still here, his heartbeat beating for you.

“You checking to see if it’s still pumping? Trust me baby, you’re the only one it beats for.”

You lightly giggled and hummed in response, feeling the warm fall breeze against your skin. You removed yourself from him and now rested your back on the back rest. Your eyes were starting to get heavy when you saw Joaquín move out of the corner of your eye. He slowly took out his phone and angled it towards you.

“What are you doing?” you questioned squinting your eyes.

“Oh you’re still awake. Uh I was just uh you know, taking a picture of the night sky yeah, the…the…moon looks amazing tonight ”, Joaquín quickly stumbled out his words, trying to cover up the fact that he was, indeed, taking a picture of you.

“Whatever you say, cutie.” You say crossing your arms and closing your eyes again.

“Mm I love you, Angel.” You smile softly and hear a shutter come from his phone.

“Damn you look good!” And with that, you can’t help but let out a laugh.

Didn’t even have to tag him, js say you want me, Danny 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

— CANT HANDLE IT

You can’t bear to see Joaquín injured

Joaquín Torres x med student!gn!reader

wc: 1.1k

warnings: hurt no comfort, mentions of injuries, cursing, mention of finals (sigh)

authors note:My next fic is gonna be a cute lil Iron!dad and Spider!son one and it’s alr at 1.2k words at like the beginning of the climax so I can’t wait to share that too! (no promises that it won’t hurt feelings though) ENJOY! (I was gonna wait till Wednesday to post this but I got too excited💔💔)

You and Joaquín were stood adjacent to each other. Your glossy eyes only staring at the scars on his neck and shoulder. He was staring at you. You could feel it. His beautiful, warm, always held joy in them eyes filled with nothing but pain. He was just discharged from the hospital and was so excited to finally come home and feel your love in the comfort of his home. Instead he was faced with a cold shoulder and ignorance.

“What’s wrong, Angel?” He spoke softly.

You finally looked up at his face. You could really see the concern and slight pain in is face.

“What’s wrong? Are you kidding me?”

He just looked at you confused.

“You were dead for two whole minutes is what’s wrong!”

“It was only two minutes, I’m all better now. See?” He approached you slowly trying to hold your hands. You back away and snatched your hands off of his. His brows furrowed as his heart dropped. You’d never backed away from his touch let alone yelled at him.

“That’s not the point Joaquín! I can’t handle this anymore…” tears formed in your eyes “…the bruises, the cuts, the secrecy. I’ll go to sleep one night with you next to me and in the morning you’ll be gone! I don’t get a heads up, or a text, not even a damn letter!”

“Angel…”

“Don’t ’Angel’ me, Joaquín. All I ask is for a heads up or a warning. You go on these dangerous missions and you don’t even show back up until days, sometimes weeks, later!” Now your volume is starting to raise.

“You know I can’t tell you! If I tell you then the safety of the mission is at risk!” Now he’s starting to get frustrated too.

“Yeah that’s what you tell me every single fucking time! That shit isn’t going to work for you every time!”

“What does that mean?” He can’t believe what you’re implying. “You’re wearing that ring aren’t you? Why would I cheat if I proposed!”

“Who said I was talking about cheating?”

“Oh you know what you were saying.” He rests his hands on his hips and turns slightly away from you.

A moment passes before you speak again.

“You know I missed a final? I’d stayed up for three nights in a row studying for it and the call about you went off right as I started it.” Your tears are escaping faster and faster now.

Joaquín’s head turned to face you at your statement. “What? Why didn’t you tell me?” He tried holding you, out of habit, but you backed away again. His heart was starting to hurt more and more.

“And make you bear that guilt at that state? You would’ve been dead permanently.” You let out a bitter chuckle.

“W-well maybe your professor would let you take it now! I’m sure you can send an email!”

“I got a zero. There’s no do-overs with this Joaquín! I’m sick of his lifestyle you have me living! I’m sick of you!” And that’s when his heart fully shattered.

“No you don’t mean that, you’re just tired, Amor…” he was crying now.

“I mean every word. I’ve lost hours and hours of sleep worrying about you, I’ve missed too many deadlines because you decide to get hurt and come home for me to fix you, and you want me to be okay with you being an Avenger?!”

He was stunned at your last statement. When Sam had made him an Avenger you were the first person he told. You smiled so hard and squeezed him so tight, people would’ve thought he achieved world peace if they saw the two of you. The two of you had went out the fanciest restaurant and you’d bought him dinner (much to his objection). You’d made it seem like you were over the Moon. He was so confused.

“What do you mean? I thought you were happy about me being an Avenger?”

“Being an Avenger is what killed Tony Stark and left his wife widowed! Along with that robot and Black Widow! I don’t want to be the next Avenger widow!”

He was honestly just hurt you didn’t have more faith in him and his abilities.

“What you think I’m not strong enough to be an Avenger?”

“Tell me how you plan to fight a genocidal alien or robot, how about an evil god from outer space with your guns and a jet pack with wings!”

You were hyperventilating at this point and the walls seemed like they were closing in on you. You could see Joaquín’s stiff figure also crying through your tears. None of you spoke a word for bit after your sentence.

“Here take this” you snatched the beautiful ring that adorned your ring finger and shoved it on his chest. He held his hand over your hand that pressed into his chest. “Wait no please…” He begged while wrapping his other hand around your arm and held you in place.

“Don’t leave. I’ll tell Sam I changed my mind! I’ll never put the wings back on! Just please don’t do this!” He yelled out through his heavy sobs.

“That’s our problem Joaquín! This! Your job is so important, not just that, it’s your dream! I can’t hold you back from doing what you love and you can’t hold me back either! People need you, the world needs you! You can’t hold me in front of the world…” and that’s when you snatch away your hand and walk to your shared room with Joaquín.

You grabbed your two suitcases and bag that you had asked your friend to pack for you and made your way to the front door. Joaquín followed you the entire time, begging you to not do this. You just ignored him and grabbed the door handle. As you were twisting the door handle Joaquín speaks for the last time.

“You are my world. How am I supposed to save billions of random people if I can’t save us?”

You turn back and see that his eyes are red and starting to puff.

“Maybe when you finally learn that you’re not indestructible and that you’re human like the rest of us.”

You twisted the door open and walked out, shutting it gently behind you. You could hear Joaquín’s from behind the door and your heart broke at the sound of it.

You didn’t know if you’d ever make up, but you were sure as hell that you would never find a love as pure or strong as Joaquín’s. Maybe you’d reconcile one day, if he doesn’t get killed.

— SEVEN MINUTES

Tony takes care of Peter, even if he’s not actually there

Iron!dad and Spider!son (ish)

wc: 2.5k

warnings: fighting, gun violence, mentions of death, blood and injuries, imagine Peter got a bit more time with Tony, May, and Ned + MJ…

authors note: hehehehehehe I’d recommend listening to “White Ferrari” by Frank Ocean and “For the First Time” by Mac DeMarco while reading this! ENJOY!! 😁😁

There were bodies scattered all around the misty lot. Various weapons and gadgets not too far from the mercenaries. Peter was slumped on the ground, his back against a lamp post and his hand on his abdomen. It was supposed to be a simple deal bust. He’d disarm the sellers and buyer, arrest them, and turn in the weapons to the authorities. The deal had almost been struck when the sellers shot the buyer. Peter knew he had to swoop in, even if the buyer was a bad person. He was horrifyingly outnumbered, tall and muscular mercenaries all surrounded him when he swung onto the sight. They all loaded their exotic weapons and opened fire on him. He’d manage to run away and hide just in time to figure out a plan to disarm them.

He was atop the tall lampposts in the darkness and slowly one by one he snatched away the weapons from them. What he hadn’t considered were the backup weapons they concealed on their bodies. As Peter fought them hand-to-hand, he started to tire out. He’d been fighting and jumping and running for the past three hours and it was the middle of the night. The amount of mercs seemed never ending and he was starting to slow down. His punches got softer and his movements became slower. By then, everyone but him had their smaller guns and knives out. Various bullets and knives grazed his skin but none of them lodged into him. Peter wasn’t one who used guns. He didn’t know how to use them and he didn’t want to. It was only when he realized that him and his webs stood no chance that he picked up a stray gun.

The smell of iron filled his nose as he looked around the lot. All of the mercs holding onto their limbs lodged into them, some unconscious. He thought that the fight was over, that he could go home, get some rest. Only when he heard the ringing in his ears and the tingling throughout his body did he realize what had happened to him. He turned around quickly and stopped the punch that was aimed straight at his face. He was gripping the other hand with his full force though, the one that lodged the crowbar deep into him. The ringing and tingling happened again but this time, it was amplified. He knocked out the merc before him and felt a bullet strike into him as he turned around. It seemed as the more he turned around, the more bullets there were.

He saw three mercs on the ground aiming their guns at him as they held onto their wounds, using their last breaths to kill a child who just wanted to do good. More and more bullets struck him as he ran away at an inhumane speed. The sound of guns shooting slowed as did his speed and breath. He ran to the closest lamppost he could find and he collapsed. That’s how he found himself in this position. Looking up, and seeing a familiar face.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter huffed out.

“Kid what did I tell you about chasing bad guys with guns? Now look at you, c’mon get up.” Tony scolded the injured boy.

All Peter could do was look up in disbelief. Blood was pooling out of the little holes all over his chest and back and more was coming out of his abdominal wound. It was a waterfall, and Peter was the small edge of the cliff that couldn’t handle any more of the weight. He groaned out in pain and threw his head back, hitting it quite hard.

“Leave me alone! You’re not real! You’re dead you’re dead you’re dead!” He yelled out as he attempted to curl up into a ball.

The crowbar was still very much deep in him, slicing more of his organs as he moved around. He held onto the bar and started to pull it out.

“Don’t do that! That’s the only thing that’s giving to a chance to stay alive. Now get up and start walking.” Tony’s voice rang in his ear again.

He looked back up at Tony, who was now reaching out his hand to Peter, and pulled himself up, gripping onto Tony’s hand. Tony kept Peter steady as he limped forward at a snails pace. He was dizzy at this point, his body felt lighter, and his vision was darkening. They walked towards the darkness, where the road was hiding behind and Peter felt his body getting lighter and lighter with each short step he took.

“I…it all hurts Mr. Stark…” he took more labored breaths while gripping onto the handle of the crowbar.

Tony could only look at the kid with compassion oozing out of his eyes when he started to speak again.

“Remember when you stopped that bank robbery?”

“Which time” Peter chuckled, even though it hurt every part of his body.

“You know what? I’m gonna ignore that and continue with what I was gonna say…” Tony chuckled too “…remember how mad I was?”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t let me leave the apartment without telling you where I was and checking in every five minutes.”

“I couldn’t let you away from my attention for too long because every time I did, you’d get yourself into some trouble.

They giggled together and the memory of Peter getting scolded by Tony flooded his mind. It was as if he’d been transported to that moment. One moment he was walking in a dark parking lot and the next he was in the living room of the Avengers compound. The entire moment felt like a cutaway in a show. It all happens in the way he remembered.

He relived the scolding from Tony. “Do you know how stupid that was!? They had never seen before weapons! Ones I’ve never seen before! I swear you’re gonna give me a heart attack one day, kid.”

He relived Tony apologizing. He heard the soft knocks on his door and saw Tony walk in with a tight lipped smile. “Uh…I want to apologize..for the last night. Even though you’re young and semi new to the whole hero thing, you dearmed the robbers and turned them in to the authorities without hurting yourself or others. Good job..I guess.” He felt Tony’s awkward side hug along with it.

He relived receiving Tony’s apologetic gifts, even after he apologized. Tony’d given him a new and more advanced suit along with many little gadgets and gizmos, one of them being his little robot buddy A.P.R.I.L (Assistant Programed to Remember I Lived). “Look it was difficult to come up with an acronym okay? It’s to remind you that you lived through the robbery and that you can live through tougher things.”

“Feels like you need this more than me” Peter laughed.

They walked limped for another few steps before Tony spoke up again.

“Hey what was the name of that girl you were dating?”

Peter’s heart skipped a beat “…uh MJ…” he hadn’t said her name in so long…

“Cute name, is it actually MJ though?”

Peter laughs at Tony’s comment, blood pooling out faster because of it.

“Well it’s Michelle Jones but she prefers MJ.”

They inched forward a few steps, Peter’s steps were starting to falter.

“I remember the day I asked to be her boyfriend—like officially.”

“Oh yeah? Tell me about it.”

“Ned gave me a bunch of ideas like to make her an elaborate sign and a hundred different types of other odd things…”

“Dude you have to make it epic! You could to buy her a bouquet with a hundred count of her favorite flowers and each flower has a thing you like about her AND THEN you show her the light up sign asking her to be your girlfriend!” Ned rambled.

“Or…I could just take her out to a restaurant or cafe and ask her…?”

“Nah that’s lame! You see, girls love when you spoil them, you have to go all out!”

“So how’d you actually ask her out?”

“I was simple with it. I took her to this cafe slash book store and asked her over a drink.” Peter gave the best shoulder shrug he could at his state.

“So MJ…” Peter played with the page of the book he’d picked.

MJ looked up from her book and gave a questioning look at Peter. He could feel his pulse pick up and palms sweat when she looked up. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail—with the exception of her bangs—and he could’ve sworn she had a halo and wings appear once he looked at her. “I wanted to ask you something…” Peter started.

MJ takes the bookmark from its position beside the book and closes it between the pages. She slides it slightly off to her right and rests her head in her palm, waiting for him to continue. She gave him the sweetest smile he’d ever been given and all the words evaporated from his mind. “What is it Peter?”

Peter swallowed hard and started speaking, trying his best to not stutter. “Since we both like each other and have gone on several dates and stuff…may I be your boyfriend?” Peter takes her hand in his and smiles at her as she takes her time answering his question.

She taps her fingers to her chin and tilts it up slightly, acting as if she’s in deep thought. Her smile is wider than ever and Peter basically feels time stop seeing her. She lowers her head and stares him straight in the eyes, giggling. “Of course!”

He starts giggling with her and leans his head forward, snaking his other hand to cup her cheek. She too leans her head forward and closes her eyes in anticipation. It’s when his lips finally press to hers does Peter’s heart stop pounding so hard. They molded so perfectly together, he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. It was slow and deep. No tongue, no lust, just deep yearning and pure love.

“I’m not sure where she is these days. I tried to talk to her after the whole multiverse fiasco with Mr. Strange but I chickened out when I got there…” Peter dropped his head at the painful memory.

“It’s okay Pete, it’s not your fault.” Tony rubbed his hands against Peter’s arm, feeling him get colder and colder.

Peter picked up his head and looked at Tony as he let his tears flow down his cheeks. Tony caressed the tears off his cheeks and gave him a side hug. “It’s okay, let your tears out.”

Peter was sobbing against Tony’s embrace. It hurt, physically and emotionally. He was so tired. He had no one left. May wasn’t there to comfort him anymore, neither was Ned, and neither was MJ. The last memory played in his mind at the thought of May. It was the day she and Happy had their first date.

May came out of her room in a beautiful soft yellow and pink dress a bit past her knees. Her hair was in a half up half down style with loose curls and she had her signature purse slung over her shoulder. “Wow May you’re so pretty!” Peter complimented as she walked over to the shoe closet by the front door.

May looked at Peter “Are you sure? It feels…” she made a circular motion in the air, referring to herself “…a little much.”

“Yes! Where are you going?”

“I…have a date.” May grinned as she got her sandals out of the closet.

“Ooo who’s the lucky fella?” Peter asked while wiggling his eyebrows and the brightest smile plastered on his face.

“Happy! You know, the chauffeur guy that you always hang out with?” Peter’s smile dropped.

“Wait you’re going on a date with HAPPY?”

“Yeah…what he’s nice, funny, and he’s got a charm to him!”

“What he’s literally always grumpy! Does not live up to his name!”

May chuckled at Peter’s disapproval as she walked towards him. She cupped both of his cheeks and smiled. “He’s a good man Peter. You just have to warm up to him.” With that, May squeezed his cheeks and shook his head from side to side.

He started laughing at her action and pulled off her hands from his cheeks. “Fine. But if he hurts you in any way, I am not afraid to hit my elders.” He half joked.

May laughed at his half full threat and lightly smacked his shoulder. She pulled him into a hug and he fell into her embrace with no hesitation, closing his eyes.

It’s only when he opened his eyes he’s facing cold harsh reality again. He can see the warm street lights ahead of him along with the few cars swooshing by. His knees are faltering at this point and Tony is long gone from his side. Maybe Tony was never there. Maybe his brain had tricked itself to imagine someone helping him to ease the pain of the loneliness in is last moments. Whether he was actually there or not, he was glad he got a proper last moment with the only father figure in his life. Peter limps two more feet before he collapses on the sidewalk. His knees fall onto the cold hard concrete and he finally pulls off his mask, breathing in the, not so fresh, New York City, air.

He leans forward and rests his left hand on the ground while gripping onto the crowbar with his other hand. His vision is blurred and he can feel his eyelids getting heavier. With all of the might he had left in his body, he pulls the crowbar out. The rest of whatever blood he had left in his body spills out with the crowbar no longer there to aid in stopping the bleeding. The crimson liquor coats the gloves of his suit, pooling out too quickly. The pain speeds throughout his body for the last time as his arms give out. He’s in a fetal position facing the ground, holding onto his wound.

Only when he is taking his last breaths does Peter Parker finally feel relaxed. He breathes in and out deeply as the sound of the world dissolves from his ears and he finally hears silence. He smiles his last smile and he accepts the warm welcome of death. Because it is only when he dies that he realizes that death isn’t a dark, hooded, skeleton with a scythe. It’s his mother, Mary “May” Parker, holding her arms wide open for him to fall into.

It’s said that in the last seven minute of someone’s life, their brain is active, going back through their memories. Peter is content knowing he saw his family for the last time before he died.

“Oh my god look!”

“What?”

“Is that Spider-Man?” the girl pointed at Peter’s corpse. They ran towards it, to get a closer look

“Holy shit it is!” The boy yelled.

“Shit look at him! There’s holes over his body!”

“What are you looking at Ned? Call the cops!”

“Jeez I’m already on it MJ, chill!”

A sense of familiarity washes over her as she pushes the body of the fallen hero to his side. She sees his expressionless face and she feels nostalgia prick at her brain like static. She taps her friend kneeling beside her. “Does he look familiar to you?”