Rundown (Spiderman x Reader) (II)

65. Brokenpromiseland

No turning back no turning back
Who's going to bail out all our shattered dreams?

Every day I'm more and more grateful for nanotechnology. It allowed me to go in pants and a loose shirt without taking forever in taking off the Killer Bee suit.

We found a pub a few blocks away that thankfully wasn't destroyed. Peter nervously sat in the middle. Quentin ordered a beer, I settled for *insert alcoholic beverage of preference*, and Peter asked for a lemonade. He looked like a little kid when he sipped through the straw.

Mysterio slapped his arm. "Hey! You gotta celebrate. We did something good tonight."

But his content wasn't reciprocated. "Yeah. Fury was right. Tony did a lot for me so I owe it to him, to everybody."

"Do you?"

"Yeah. I mean... Mr. Stark gave me the chance to be more. He wanted me to be better than him. And Fury wants me to live up to that," he shrugged.

"Oh, Peter..." I didn't realize how it felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. I reached for his hand, and this time, he didn't let me go.

"What do you want?"

After some back and forth, Peter finally spat: "I wanna go on my trip. I want to go back on my trip with my friends. And then go to the top of the Eiffel Tower and... and enjoy Europe," he finished rambling.

Quentin sadly smiled. "You're not gonna do that, are you?"

"No, I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I have too much of a responsibility." Suddenly, a lady started scolding Peter in Czech, putting the special sunglasses on his hands again. "Oh my god. Thank you so much."

Mysterio pointed to the glasses in curiosity. "What are those? Are those the—"

"EDITH glasses, yeah."

"They were just on the floor?" Peter nodded, nervous about how he almost lost an invaluable item. "Try them on. Let's see how they look on you."

The black and blue framing sat at the bridge of his nose. Smiling, he responded: "I actually really like them."

"They frame your face nicely," I complimented while sipping on my drink. They truly matched perfectly with his hair.

"Can I be completely honest with you?"

"Please."

"They look really stupid." When he said that, I slapped his arm. Then he tried to correct it. "But maybe they have a contact-lens version of them."

Peter instantly took them off. "You try them on."

"No, come on," he laughed.

I started smiling too. "Just put them on, man."

Reluctantly, he pushed the rim up his nose. "What do you think, kid?"

In my secret opinion, they worked wayyy better on Peter's face, but I may be biased. I gave a thumbs up to do the polite thing.

However, that seemed to spark an idea inside my partner in crime. "'For the next Tony Stark, I trust you.'"

"What?" we asked at the same time.

"Mr. Stark left me a message with those glasses: 'For the next Tony Stark, I trust you'," he explained.

"I'm still not following. How many lemonades have you had?"

Oh, but I did follow. And I knew that the plan forming on his stupid (yet sometimes smart) brain would backfire. "No."

"He knew every mistake I ever made, okay? So he must've known I was not ready for something like this."