× Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown × [ON HOLD]

~Chapter One~

Hey everyone! This story takes place after the events of endgame, during Tony’s funeral. Just to inform you, Steve isn’t old cause he didn’t want to betray bucky but Nat is still dead. SIIIKKKE she isn’t in the story because they brought her back by using the time stone. I know Natasha can’t necessarily be brought back that way but to the fanfiction world and we can do with ever we want.

It’s mostly based on peter’s experience after the snap. I felt that he didn’t have time to heal and meet the other avengers that’s why I wrote this story.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this fanfic! I apologies if the story is bad cause I’m not a very skilled writer and I don’t have experience in writing soooo… yeah
-Fabiana ‹3

Prologue Part 1: The funeral
Peter
That’s not a hug I’m just grabbing the door for you
If your nothing without this suit then you shouldn’t have it
I don’t wanna go, sir please
I am ironman
We won Mr Stark
You can rest now…………………….

Those haunted words rung loudly in Peters head, as he watched Tony’s old arc reactor float gently on the water with burdened eyes. Death was an old friend of his, it visited his life so often he started to wonder if he was becoming numb to it, accustomed even. He never really got used to it though, every time it strikes it hits harder than before, like adding salt on a wound not yet healed. It feels like the reaper is always lurking behind a corner somewhere and like a vulture it waited for its next victim, ready to snatch away anyone he cares about, who’s next? His aunt? Ned? MJ? Himself? Death was greedy, it only took and took but never returned anything, anyone back.

Looking back, he remembers all the laughs and the wide smiles plastered on the faces of his aunt, uncle and even his own. Yet, even back then, behind all of the smiles he gave, was great trepidation continuously growing in his chest. Always preparing for the inevitable to happen.

His aunt’s gentle hand was placed on top of Peter’s shoulder easing the tension in his muscles ever so slightly. He just wanted to scream so loudly until he had no pain evident in his voice. But he couldn’t just break down like a child, he had to be strong, at least for Mr. Stark. Regardless of his stiff, strong looking composure, hot tears pooled in his eyes ready to tumble down his pale cheeks at any second. A feeling of dysphoria hit him like a truck. He felt so weak and vulnerable at that moment, the walls of his façade threatening to come crashing down. He didn’t have a single care about his childhood heroes all gathered around him. He didn’t care that he was crying in front of the people he mostly looked up to.

He only cared for one person, but that person wasn’t there anymore.

He should have seen this coming years ago. How can I be so stupid? Getting close to people gets them killed! He pessimistically thought. He wished to badly that he had never met Mr. Stark, but part of him was so grateful he had entered his life.

Sometimes he just wanted to run away, far away from everyone in order to rid them of the parker luck he carried around him like heavy chains. The heavy weight he was never able to break out of, all his life.

Someone he cared for was taken from him away again today. He felt as if a chunk of his heart was torn apart. He just couldn’t catch a break. Why do these things always happen to his family, it’s like the world wants him to suffer? He tries so hard to do good, to do better than yesterday, but the universe always makes sure he remembers the bad. But it’s not him who pays the dreadful price, it’s the ones he loves the most.

A gentle breeze brushed on his face making his now wet cheeks dry and cold. A shiver sent through his spine making him shudder, he wanted to leave so badly but he couldn’t just do that. He had to breathe. A sob formed in his throat and threatened to escape his mouth but was gulped down quickly with great effort, he didn’t want to embarrass himself further than he already did.