Wilted (Peter Parker x Reader)

44

Peter

"I think Bruce and I are friends." Y/n muttered as she played with her food.

"Seems so, you called him Bruce." I pointed out and nudged her playfully. We sat on her bed eating (food of choice) while (your favorite show or movie) played on her tv in the background. Despite the entertainment, she stared into her food with tired eyes. She was definitely crashing.

"He helps with no hesitation. He doesn't care about anything that's happened. He's just... nice." She continued. "It's Stark that doesn't like me."

"Why do you think that?" I asked as I listened to her every word.

"Let's see," she started. "His scowl. His lack of empathy. His attitude. His insults. His control issues," she rambled on.

"Okay, okay!" I laughed. "But to be fair, most of that is just his personality." I was just trying to follow her pace to ensure she comes down smoothly.

"He doesn't even want me to get fresh air." She rolled her eyes and tossed the bowl/plate of leftovers onto the nightstand.

"You keep forgetting how many times you've gotten away." I set my dish on top of hers before crossing my arms as she faced me. "He can't risk you going back out there and slaughtering people. It's our job." She furrowed her eyebrows at my words and stared at me.

"Oh, is it? Is it your job?" She mocked and glared at me. I looked at her with a shocked face and stayed silent, unsure how to respond. She took in my expression and furrowed her eyebrows as she looked away. "I'm sorry. I don't know why that made me so mad."

"You're crashing." I sighed. "It was bound to happen eventually."

She turned her gaze back to me, seemingly calmer but definitely not in a good mood. As she looked at me and focused more on how she was feeling, her eyes crowned with tears. She sniffed and did her best to wipe away the oncoming emotions from her face with one hand.

"I'm sorry. Bruce said it's pretty normal but that doesn't mean it feels good. Is there anything I can do?" I spoke gently as she let out a large breath of air, I assume to try to relax a bit.

"No." She sniffed again and rested her hand in her lap. I nodded in understanding and let my gaze fall to the ground.

"How do you feel?" I asked and stood up from the bed. She watched as I walked over to her shredded dresser and began to clean up some of the pieces. Things had been so chaotic, we never even thought about cleaning.

"I feel like I'm suffocating." She sighed and kept her eyes on me.

"What do you mean?" I asked and tossed some of the bigger pieces to pile against the wall.

"Depleted?" She questioned as she looked for the right words. "Like I got hit by a train after running a marathon? I don't know. I'm tired and sad but I don't even know why. I just feel like shit."

"Depleted is a great way to put it; That's exactly what you are. You should feel better after some rest." I smiled lightly at her as I finished condensing the mess. "I'll get some garbage bags and finish this tomorrow."

"You should tell Stark to relax." She brought the conversation back to him. "I don't want to kill anyone."

"You don't?" I asked quickly and stood up just as fast. Her words were surprising to me, but she wasn't a liar. She shook her head and looked at the dishes on the table. "What changed?"

"I can't trust my feelings." Her responses were blunt but I needed to know more. I walked back over to the bed and sat beside her, antsy for more information.