The Wing-Woman (Peter Parker X Reader)

Round 21: Mendings

"You don't have to." He said flustered.

"You're right, I don't have to." I say, sitting back before leaning forward, "But, I want to."

I leaned forward, cotton ball ready to clean up the scratches on his face, I realized his suit wasn't the same as it used to be. It wasn't mine, "What's this?" I asked pointing down at his suit.

His face turned a light shade of pink as he responded, "It's my suit."

I tilted my head, this wasn't my suit. Not that it was bad, or anything but I didn't make it.

"It's my first suit. I made it." He specified, looking down.

Not wanting him to feel embarrassed about his handy work I say, "It's really good. Inventive and creative. I like it."

He smiles weakly, "Thanks."

It was quiet for a long while as I cleaned his wounds, with the occasional whimper or complaint from the hero. I finished the basic marks on his arms and chest, cleaning through the holes in his suit.

"You look really, really pretty tonight." The spider-ling spoke, his voice wavering as if he were nervous.

I looked at him confused, was he at the dance? I turned to grab more gauze and I saw myself in the mirror. I realized I was still in my dress, "Thank you, I don't know if I can say the same for you though," I paused, "You look like you got your ass kicked."

"I-" He was taken aback by how blunt I was, "I mean, yeah."

"I'm sure you got a few good punches in," I commented.

"I did." He laughed, "Actually, I think I won."

"Really now?" I raised my eyebrows. His laugh was so familiar.

He nodded, "I mean, I am Spider-Man."

I did a last check of his chest and back, I looked up to his face, his mask was terribly dirty, covered in brown and deep red splotches, "Okay, Spider-Man. Can you take off your mask?"

His body tensed, "I- Can I- what?"

"I can tell you're bleeding, I just want to make sure it's not too deep and doesn't need stiches or anything."

"I- um-" His voice, and even the hesitation are so familiar.

"Please. I just want to help," I paused, "You don't need to bare everything alone."

"I know." He hesitated.

It clicked in my head, "Peter, please let me help." I hooked my fingers under his mask, my fingers resting on the soft skin of his neck just below his jaw.

He didn't speak. His slender fingers wrapped around my wrists, helping me lift his mask. It was definitely Peter, his pink lips, slightly chapped. His nose, a little crooked. Soon his big brown eyes were revealed, to be followed shortly by his mess of curls that sat on his head.

"How did you know?" He spoke once his mask was resting in my hands, his own hands still wrapped around mine.

"I'm surprised I didn't get it sooner." I smiled.

"Sooner?" His eyes widened, "You weren't supposed to figure it out at all!"

I laughed, "I'd recognize you anywhere."

He smirked, "Anywhere?"

"Not like that!" I pushed his shoulder, "I'm your wing-woman. Which reminds me, I think I lost the bet with Ned."

His eyebrows shot up, "What do you mean?"

"You got a date, but you never went on it. Do you have to ruin everything Peter?"

He looked down, "Sorry."

"I was joking, you didn't ruin anything." I laugh, "Like you said, you won? You probably did more good than harm." I looked down at the mask that was still in my hands. "Woah," I held the goggles up to my own eyes, "Can you even see in these?" I tried to look in the mirror.

He laughed, "I can- I can see in those. You know, you are a lot like your father."

I dropped my arms to the sides, mask in my left hand, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Mr. Stark said the same thing the first time we met." 

"Oh, I was nervous for a second." A moment passed before I spoke again, "You don't look too bad, just this." I pointed to the scrapes on his cheek and the cut on his lower lip.

He turned to look at himself in the mirror, "eh, they don't hurt that much." As he turned back I put  cotton ball with hydrogen peroxide on his cheek. He winced.

"Hurts when I clean it?" I leaned closer to his face and pouted my bottom lip.

His face dropped, "You're a sadist, you know that (Y/N)?" 

I gasped, "You're getting better with these compliments, Parker. First I'm like my dad and now I'm a sadist." I was still cleaning his face and putting small bandages on his cheek and one on his lip.

"You know what I meant." He mumbled.

It went quiet as I began to clean up the bathroom and put everything back in the first aid kid.

"So um," He started, "How was the dance?" 

I laughed at his attempt of starting another conversation, it was cute. "Pretty boring, the media definitely played a big part in romanticizing school dances."

"Yeah, they are nothing like the movies." He put his hand on the back of his neck. What was going on with him? He didn't know what to think, or say, or act. Hell, he didn't even know where to put his hands.

"Excuse me." I say squeezing past him back into my room. Grabbing a blanket and turning on the TV. Nothing was on so I just turned it off.

"Oh my god." I realized.

(A/N: Hey everyone, I know it has been quite a while. I kinda forgot this existed and I've been doing homework and getting ready for college and doing shows. But nonetheless, here is another chapter and over the summer I'm going to try and finish this. I'm sorry this took so long and I hope you enjoyed it! I'm working on another chapter as we speak!:))