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Warnings: Just one curse word, largely unedited, but hopefully it's not as bad as I think it is
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"No!"

Your mother's shrieks wake you yet again, and this time there's no Peter there to comfort you. For the past four nights, you haven't slept at all. Whenever you begin to drift off, nightmares plague you. And not just the usual ones.

Now there are new ones, ones where you're strapped to a table in Avenger's Tower, with Peter screaming at you,

"You don't deserve your freedom!"

"I want those three weeks of my life back, you bitch!"

"I never loved you! No one will ever love you! Ever!"

And every night, those words hurt more and more. Every night, it gets harder for you to imagine his arms around you, to remember his face and his voice other than in your nightmares.

Now that you're wide awake, you decide you might as well get some water, your throat raw from four days of screaming in your sleep. You head to the kitchen and fill yourself a glass, but when you turn to go back to your room, your glass falls to the floor, shattering into a million pieces.

Iron Man is outside your sliding glass door, standing on the balcony.

You unlock the door and let him in.

"What do you want?" you ask tiredly, the shock of seeing him wearing off quickly, replaced by exasperation.

"I want to talk to you," the metallic voice of the hero drones, but his demand is only met with silence.

"Please go," you tell him. "I kept my promise. I'm staying away from Peter, so stay away from me."

Tony's about to protest, but he pauses as the blue light of his arc reactor illuminates your face. In the moments before you squint, Tony sees your eyes, bloodshot from crying, the bags under them so deep that he can tell you haven't slept in days. He's instantly reminded of Peter.

"That's what I came to talk to you about."

Tony sighs. "Look, as much as I hate to admit it, the kid's an absolute mess right now. At first I thought it was just him being a teenager, right, but I did some more research and--"

"What do you mean he's a mess?"

"He won't leave his room," Tony explains, and this is the first time you've ever seen him look so desperate. It feels so strange remembering this was everything you had wanted only a few weeks ago.

"He'll barely eat anything. He won't open the door for anyone. He's only let me in once, and that was so he could tell me off for capturing you."

"Does he know you let me go?"

Stark shakes his head.

"As far as I know, no one's told him. We didn't want him to go looking for you."

You chuckle bitterly.

"Why in the world would he want to look for me? After what I did to him?" You sigh, the sigh of someone broken and defeated.

"He doesn't love me. It was just the curse."

"You see, that's what I thought," Tony says, pointing a finger at you. "But then I did some research." His desperation has reverted back to the usual Tony Stark cockiness, making you roll your eyes. "And you know what I found?"

"I'm on the edge of my seat," you mutter sarcastically.

"Well, actually, I had help," he admits.

"No!" you gasp exaggeratedly, and you almost feel like yourself again. "The great Tony Stark needed help? Impossible!"

"Okay, I'm gonna let that one go because I know you're hurting right now," Stark remarks, pointing at you yet again. "And yes, I had help. From some friends of mine, Bruce Banner and Thor Odinson."

You nod. "Peter told me about them." You smile for a moment, remembering how Peter's eyes lit up when he talked about the Avengers.

"Anyway, I talked to them, and apparently Thor is some kind of expert when it comes to mythology--"

"Not Greek mythology though, right? He's a Norse god."

Tony shrugs. "Beats me, kid. But that's not what's important. According to Thor, there are other..." he hesitates, searching for a word that won't offend you, "beings with powers like yours. Sirens, huldras, all that good stuff. And as cliche as it sounds, legend has it the only way they lose their powers is if someone truly loves them."

"And that's what you think happened to me?" you scoff. He nods.

"Why should I believe you?"

"Because there's a very obvious side effect. When sirens lose their powers, their eyes return to their natural color. I'm surprised I didn't notice it first thing, but..."

His voice fades from your ears.

"I. Love. You. I love everything about you. Your name, the way you laugh, how you hate to clean up after making breakfast, how you get scared when I sneak up on you, how your lips taste, your e/c eyes..."

"My eyes aren't e/c. They're pink. Like a rose."

"They don't look rose-colored to me."

Peter's last words come flooding back to you, the possibility petrifying you, the hope that maybe he hadn't just been lying, or guessing, or seeing things nearly stopping your heart.

"Peter..." you almost whisper. "He told me... that my eyes were Y/E/C on our last day together... but they've been rose-colored ever since I can remember. I see them changing... because of the curse... sometimes, in my nightmares. But there's no way..."

"Look in the mirror, kid."

You rush to the bathroom and study your reflection. Your eyes are red and puffy from crying, but your irises are no longer pink.

They really are Y/E/C.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," you whisper, collapsing into a heap right there in front of the sink, crying tears of exhaustion, disbelief, and maybe even joy? You're not sure, you're not sure of anything anymore, except for one thing.

You need to see Peter right now.

Siren (Peter Parker x Fem!Villain Reader)Where stories live. Discover now