𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤

Don't Fall Asleep

Parings → Peter Parker x Vigilante! Reader

Warnings → Banter, Villain attack, mild drugging/pollen exposure, semi-conscious state, tension, emotional vulnerability, enemies-to-lovers dynamics

Summary →After Goblin’s pollen attack, you collapse into Peter’s arms, forcing him to protect you.

          ｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆  ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

The city smelled like smoke and burnt metal.

And chaos.

“Can you not kick me while I’m mid-swing?!” Peter snapped, landing hard on the side of a building before shooting another web.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you shot back, flipping over a crumbling streetlight and landing in a crouch, “did I interrupt your graceful flailing?”

“I do not flail—”

A deafening cackle cut through him.

Green Goblin.

“Aw, young love!” The Goblin taunted, hovering above you both on his glider. “So much tension! Should I give you a moment to—”

“Shut up!” You and Peter yelled in unison.

You both paused.

Glared at each other.

“…Don’t agree with me,” you muttered.

“Then stop being right,” Peter shot back automatically.

God, he was insufferable.

You launched first. Your body moved like second nature, flipping onto a nearby ledge before springing toward the Goblin. Peter followed right behind, webbing the glider, trying to slow it down.

For a moment, you worked in sync.
The fight is chaos. Webs snapping, metal screeching, your boots hitting pavement hard as you flip over the Goblin’s glider. You land a clean hit to his side.

“Ha! See—”

“Yeah yeah, you’re amazing, can we—HEY!”

Too late.

A pumpkin bomb detonates midair over you.

No fire. No heat.

A burst of thick, glittering pollen explodes outward, coating everything in a strange, shimmering haze.

Peter’s mask lenses widen.

His spider-sense goes wild.

“Not good. Not good—hey, don’t breathe that in!”

You cough, waving it off. “Relax, Spider. It’s just—”

Your voice falters for half a second.
Peter notices. Of course he does.
Your stance shifts—just slightly—but enough.

That’s all it takes.

“Yeah, no, we’re leaving.”

“What? No, I’m fine—”

“You’re not fine.”

Before you can argue, his hand grabs your wrist—firm, urgent—and he yanks you away from the street, swinging you both into a narrow alley between two buildings.

You stumble when you land.
“That was unnecessary—”

Your sentence slurs at the end.

Peter freezes.

“…Okay. That’s new.”

You blink slowly, like your brain is lagging behind your body. “M’not… slurring.”