storm | peter parker

V | formed

Does nature shape our personalities more than nurture?

—

SHE PULLED THE BLANKET TIGHTER TO HER, sitting at the edge of a construction site that was left alone because of the rainy weather that would interfere with the work. The blanket was raggedy, showing wear as its previous beige color had dulled to a dark brown from the use over time. Y/n coughed lightly, eyes staring at the area around her.

"You've ran off again," Someone had spoke to her, a male that she didn't really recognize, but figured connected to her father or her father's friends. He picked the eight year old up as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She laid her head on his shoulder, snuggling up to him as the blanket hung down her back.

Y/n mumbled, "Daddy's too busy to take care of me. I figured I could explore, but I got lost." The man hummed in response, taking a black umbrella out of his pocket and popping it out. The rain fell down in soft thumps instead of the loud pounding that she'd caused herself. He walked directly to a sleek black car, tucking her into a car seat at the back.

He turned to the usual driver that chauffeured for a certain Stark. "I found her at Tony's recent construction site; the one for the orphanage that Tony's building and donating to." The man just nodded, not really caring about the child. He wasn't very soft to the child, especially when she mostly just wrecked everyone's plans.

She looked out the window, watching the droplets race from one side of the window to another. "Will Daddy be there?" The eight year old spoke quietly, causing the man in the passenger's seat to turn around. He stared at the kid, smiling lightly. "Your Dad's a bit busy, sweetheart. He has some other matters to attend to with Tony." 

Y/n huffed, turning away. "Daddy always spends his time with others, but not me." The man's eyes softened at the kid's comment. However, she quickly recovered as her brows furrowed in a concentrated manner. He followed her gaze, locking onto the sky as the rain merely thundered down harder. 

His heart dropped when she continued. "Daddy doesn't care about me."

She woke up with a start, panting heavily and clutching the left side of her chest. Y/n looked outside, watching the rain continue to drizzle down like it had before. Jolts of thunder and lightning struck the air, but that was something that Y/n didn't want to pay attention to. She looked to the side, realizing that Spider-Man must've left on his own accord.

Another rumble of thunder resulted in another toil of anxiety strangling her stomach, nauseating her to the point that she ran and keeled over the toilet, vomiting the remnants of what she'd eaten previously. Stomach acid burned at her throat as she wiped her lips, washing out the result of her nausea from her mouth.

Flushing the remnants, she grabbed her hoodie and slipped on her sneakers. She made sure to take her phone and key card with her, double checking for her stashed backup cash. The girl swung open the door, closing the door behind her as it locked with a small click. The door next to her opened at the same time, revealing the drug addicted woman who lived there.

"Aye, Celeste, what're you up to?" The woman wore a revealing white tube top and an incredibly ripped pair of jeans. She called Y/n by her fake name that she believed to be real. Y/n wasn't that stupid to choose a disgusting part of New York and give them her real name. "Nothing much, Eliora. I'm just heading out for some food."

"Mind getting me some crack while you're out?" She giggled, high.

"I'm not your drug delivery service," Y/n hissed under her breath, zipping up her hoodie before leaving.

Eliora merely cackled, closing the door behind her. Y/n headed down the stairs, refusing to go down the elevator because of the odd and permanent stench. She opened the main door, stretched her muscles, and took a look around. As usual, the New York residents bustled up and down the sidewalks, the occasional car honk going off.

Y/n followed along their stream, like a school of fish. Her eyes peeked up at a nearby small store. Delmar's, it read. She decided to take a chance, change jingling in her pocket as she picked up the pace. Walking inside, her eyes softened at the sight of a quiet cat who looked up and yawned when she arrived.

"Hello there," She scratched the cat, earning a small purr from him as she moved on to look around the store. Picking up a few bags of chips and some gummy worms, she approached the cash register. Her eyes gazed up at the chart of sandwiches, revealing the possibilities of food that she could choose from.

The man approached the counter. He was one that she could only identify as possibly being Mr. Delmar. "Can I help you, little lady?" He tapped the counter, a friendly smile on her face. After hearing constant cussing, smelling alcohol and drugs, and hearing sex moans, she was pretty relieved to see someone so friendly.

"Um, a number five, please." His brows perked at the sound of the order. "Reminds me of a certain someone that's a regular," His nose scrunched as his grin grew, eyes peering at the girl who was obviously interested. She smiled brightly, tilting her head. "Oh, really? I didn't think that many people would order it. Not to mention, this is a small place. Small, but cozy."

She corrected herself, earning herself a rightful smile from the man. "Yeah, he makes sure there's pickles and it's smushed down—" "—real flat, thanks." Peter spoke up, smiling as the door jingled when he opened the door. He approached the counter, grinning at Mr. Delmar with an inquisitive eyebrow. "Interesting to know that I'm a topic of conversation, Mr. Delmar."

"She just reminded me of you a bit, that's why." He winked at Peter, turning around to get the sandwich and wrap it up. Peter grew confused, turning to her, but quickly recognized the female at the sight of the usual gray sweater. She swiped back the hood of the sweater and cracked a mischievous grin. 

"Hello, Peter."