Marvel/Sherlock/Harry Potter/ETC Fandom One Shots

Forgotten - Peter Parker xReader

A/N: This story is written a bit different. I really like how it turned out. It's a bit sad, but it's supposed to be. I'd love to hear what you think of it. Let me know!

It's not like he meant to do it. At least that's what I've told myself the last few times it's happened. I mean, it's not like I should be some sort of overpowering priority in his life. He has other friends and it's not like his social life is lacking enough for him to be solely focused on me. No, I'm convenient. A good person to call upon when there's nothing else to do. It's not like I have any form of social life.

Still, it hurt like all hell as I waited in front of my apartment, watching the faces of people who weren't him. I didn't have to postpone any plans for tonight, well other than binging cheesy movies on Netflix. I didn't do enough with my time for it to matter all that much. So why did it hurt so bad?

"It's only been a couple of minutes," I tell myself as I scroll aimlessly on my phone. The hands on the clock on my phone seemed as though they were moving through molasses. I haven't even been waiting that long. I'm just being overdramatic. I haven't eaten yet, and that's the only reason I have a pit in my stomach. It's not his fault.

Then why does it feel like it is? Why do I feel like crying every five seconds and why do I just want to call and cancel. It hasn't even been that long, yet I feel like I'm going insane. He's my best friend, he's just running late. Maybe he got caught up with something. Maybe something happened. It can't be his fault!

Cabs fly past, splashing nearby pedestrians with muddy water. The rain only seemed to make my mood fouler. I'm not mad. How can I be when it's not something he can control? The pit in my stomach is just taking over. I really should run upstairs and grab a granola bar or something, but I don't want to miss him.

"It's only been an hour," My heart starts to drop as I realize how much time has actually passed. The humidity has made me feel sticky and my hair feels damp. The door-man at my apartment has asked me several times if I was okay, I say yes.

I don't stand. In fact, I barely move as I send a text to him. Where are you? I can't believe it when I see that my phone battery has already dropped 30% just in the hour I was waiting. I guess that's what aimless scrolling can do. My heart stops as I read the text he sends. Almost there, you still okay to go? I say yes.

Of course, I'm still okay to go, I'm still sitting here, aren't I? On the cold, wet concrete step that made my butt go numb after fifteen minutes. I'm being dramatic again. When am I not dramatic? Even in my dreams, I am always the overdramatic one, and no one has an issue telling me that either. They always ask me if I have to be so dramatic all the time. I gasp, clutching at my heart and say no.

"It's only been a couple of hours," I sigh, knowing that he's not coming. I can't even fathom what is going through his brain right now. I'm still not mad, I probably should be. The people I've texted while sitting here told me I should be mad, but I'm not. It's not like he means to do it. It's not his fault that I was broken today. To cheer me up, he asked if I wanted to hang out, I said yes. If I would have said no, he wouldn't have been stuck hanging out with me. He's probably just procrastinating the inevitable. It's not like it's his fault.

Street lights starting turning on as the sun finally set. Looking up, I finally realized how long I've been sitting here. The summer months meant that the sun didn't want to set until late in the day. It also meant that crime was even more prominent as everyone seemed antsy when the sun was out. He must have gotten caught up being the friendly neighbourhood hero that he was. It's not his fault.

I stand up to stretch my legs once my phone chimes that it's at 10%. Text me when you get here, I have to charge my phone up a bit. I'll come down when you're here. I sent the text off before turning to the doorman with a small salute. He tipped a pretend hat to me and opened up a door. Before I even stepped inside the elevator, my heart sank. I couldn't help the tears that started to retreat down my face. There I go again, making everything dramatic, but I just couldn't stop the damned tears. Hey, sorry I have to cancel. You'll be alright though? I said yes.