unruly › peter parker

eighteen. mr stark

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"I KILLED HIM."

Rhea simpered, looking excessively pleased with herself as she listened to the recording on her phone over and over again. It was unlike anything she has ever felt before. More than happy. More than just being on so-called cloud nine.

She felt like a victor, after losing for as long as she could remember. Lydia had always taken every chance surpassing her with her pathetic, temporary lies. But Rhea finally felt like she has won. And here she was, absolutely enjoying the evidence she would hand in, her trophy, while Lydia, who left the house in a state of panic, would probably never see this coming.

A text notification sent her phone buzzing, and she didn't think it was possible to feel even more thrilled than she already did.

Hey, I've got good news. Keep your window open!

Her mouth twitched, and she found herself fighting a gregarious smile. To top off an already good day, it would end with her seeing Peter.

She collapsed onto her bed with outstretched arms, staring at the ceiling mindlessly with nothing but a content grin on her lips. Peter has good news for me? I do too. She let her fingers brush lightly against her bruised neck, the sensation of Lydia's grip barely there anymore but enough to cause her gleaming smile to fade, as she recalled her absolute terror. I better hide this from him.

In just 30 minutes, she heard a faint shuffling through the window and saw him, the love of her entire life, standing in front of her, seeming just as exhilarated as she does. The sight of him woke up her brain, though she thought herself already wide awake, while her smile grew of its own accord. She could either hide it or let him see what he ignited; she chose the latter.

She hopped up from the bed, moving closer towards him who stood incredibly still, frozen from excitement? Shock? Nervousness?

She slipped his mask off and swept his tousled hair away from his handsome face. And without hesitation, her lips brushed his. Not innocently, but rather, fiery and demanding. Peter had wanted to pull away before he could lose himself, but he didn't, after having lost the ability to think straight. Her arms hung loosely on his shoulders, eyes shut and never wanting to part from him.

Peter placed his hand on the back of her neck, against the thick fabric of the turtleneck collar, earning a slight and subtle wince from her. And he caught that.

With a hand on her shoulder, he gently pushed her to stop the heated, almost-makeout session. The lit up passion on his warm and incredibly tomato-tinted face quickly replaced with anticipative dread and concern. This was way more important than sole, hormonal lust.

"What's wrong?" Rhea groused, their contact being too short to satisfy her merriment. And too unexpectedly interrupted.

Peter furrowed his eyebrows, eyeing her seriously, "Your neck, is it hurt?"

Immediately, she pursed her lips in nervousness, and he knew her well to know she was concealing something. And so, he pulled her towards him. To Rhea's dismay, he reached out towards her, pulling the turtleneck collar down a notch to reveal dark purple bruises lining her neck. His eyes widened in pain that she was hurt, especially to this degree. And he wasn't there to prevent it.

"Look, I... I can explain." Rhea began, she couldn't bear to look at him. Somehow, it hurt seeing him like this more than almost being strangled to death. "I got the confession out of my mom. And in doing so... she strangled me."

Drawing in a sharp breath at her words, he took a step towards her, pulling her into his arms like it was enough to protect her from anything and everything. "You don't have to do this yourself anymore. I... I've found you help."

Rhea paused, "Help?"

They parted from each other, this time, Peter gazing at her with a hopeful glint in his eyes. "Tony Stark. He knows about you because I sent a voicemail to Happy and apparently he's been listening to my every voicemail and now he knows!" He spoke excitedly, words a little too fast for her to catch but enough for her to understand the gist of it.

At that moment, Rhea had stopped listening. And the unruly took her place.

Peter grinned, continuing, "Mr Stark can help you, Rhea. He can prevent you from going to jail, and he can get you back to being... you."

"Peter... what?"

"It wasn't you who murdered. Mr Stark can prove that, and now that you've got your mother's confession, everything you want can fall into place."

"You must be crazy," she gulped, the smile on his lips slowly vanishing at how awfully apprehensive she looked. "I don't want that. I don't want that at all!"

"Why? You've... you've been suffering with someone who isn't you, doing things you'd never do. And now, that can be solved. Mr Stark can-"

"Shut up!" She yelled and leaned against the wall, a migraine pounding in her head as she desperately tried to keep her cool, in order to maintain her image as Rhea.

His hope was quickly replaced with slowly boiling anger, and although he didn't ever want to get exasperated at her, his patience was thinning. All he ever wanted was to get back the Rhea he met in that alleyway, who cradled Mira in her arms, who showed him another form of tenderness.

Who taught him how love felt like.

"I have you, Peter. I... I don't want anyone else's help, I just want you," she whimpered, staring at the ground, and then at her trembling hands. She knew he was getting vexed, so playing the victim was what she did next in this game.

Peter wasn't having it. He knew she wasn't her. Rhea would be happy to know Mr Stark could help her. She would be happy to be given hope. Unlike the unruly.

"You can't give me false hope like this, Pete." Pete? That's a new one, he thought.

He sighed, one of exhaust, and one of resent towards the girl pretending to be his, "If you truly wanted to protect Rhea, you would listen to me."

The door to the apartment creaked open, alerting Peter to Lydia's presence. "I suggest you leave now. You wouldn't want my mother finding a pest in our house, right?" The unruly chuckled despite her eyes glistening with falsified tears.

His glare intensified, muttering a "I will get rid of you" on his way out.

The lingering touch of his lips against hers started to sting, as she realised that everything in life was transitory after all, although some things do last longer than others.

She made a mental post it note to herself, that Peter's expiry date was soon. She couldn't get to keep him around like she wanted to before. And that... was mildly disappointing.

- - - - -

qotd !! ;
would you rather eat natasha's peanut butter sandwich or scott lang's fallen taco from endgame?

a little psa: updates for this fanfic might start to become slow since i'll be having my prelims very soon! prelims are basically mock exams before the official national exams, which i guess, are pretty important. i'm so sorry for the wait and the oncoming wait, but i promise i'll work on a new chapter as soon as i have the time! much love to all of you who have come this far into the story and for all of your support. i appreciate it a lot more than you think! ♡