My Broken Spiderboy (tasm! spiderman x reader)

Nostalgia

After a second, Peter pulled away from me and took the moment in. Standing amid the loud crowd, I knew a million questions were running through his head just as they had run through mine. Yet he asked none of them aloud and just waited. He waited for me to make the next move, almost as if he was scared I would force him away again. 

So I made the next move. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" he asked, the shock seeping through his voice. 

"I should have given you the chance to explain yourself, just as I had promised I would," I looked around, suddenly aware of all of the people around us, and wondered if we should even be standing here discussing this. "I want to give you that chance. Maybe we could talk over dinner or something?"

Peter nodded, reaching for my hand. "Why don't you come to my apartment?"

I agreed, and we made our way toward his old home. Even though I had not been there in years, that path to his home still seemed like second nature to me; like how you never forget your way to an old spot you would always meet your friends, no matter how long it had been since the last time you'd been there or seen those people. And suddenly, I was no longer thinking about the pain that the end of high school had brought me, and I was reminded of the good memories and the joy that I had experienced. 

"You know, Aunt May has missed you a lot," Peter said as we reached the apartment building and began making our way up the stairs. 

I smiled, "I've missed her as well. You're aunt May was always the best."

"Yeah, well, it looks like I can bring my favorite women back together," he said, before opening the door. 

I raised an eyebrow, "I'm really one of your favorite women?"

"Is that really a question?" He asked. 

I laughed, "I guess not."

We stepped into the apartment, and I was immediately overwhelmed by nostalgia. Photos of the family still sat on the mantel above the fireplace. Some were newer, adventures that May and Peter had gone on the last five years, but others I could still remember being taken. Like one of five-year-old Peter and I on our very first day of kindergarten with big cheesy smiles and bright-colored outfits. Next to it sat a picture of Peter, Gwen, Harry, and me at graduation with big eyes set on our futures. There was one of  Ben and Peter on Peter's 10th birthday right before Peter blew out the candles so his cheeks were full of air. All along that mantel sat physical proof of Peter and I's friendship, and how close we were throughout our younger years. And here I was looking at these pictures longing for those days again. 

I was so focused on the pictures, that I didn't even notice Peter slip out to greet his Aunt in the kitchen. And when I heard her quiet, motherly voice from the entryway, I almost burst into tears as I saw her. I ran into her open arms, pulling her into the biggest hug I could muster without feeling like I was going to break her tiny body. 

"Oh, y/n, it is so good to see you," she whispered to me as we pulled away, giving a glance toward Peter. "I had heard that you and Peter had begun to make amends, and I was hoping I'd be able to see you again."

"Of course," I smiled, tears welling in my eyes. "I missed seeing you practically every day."

"Well, please, remember you are always welcome here even if you and this one are arguing. You're practically one of my own." She paused and glanced at Peter, "I'm almost done with dinner if you two want to get situated. Peter, would you help me set the table?"

Peter quickly got to work setting out three plates and sets of silverware. I slowly made my way over to the table, still admiring all of the pictures and decor around the apartment. It really hadn't changed much in the past five years, which almost made it worse. The clash of good and bad memories made it hard for me to focus on why I was even here: to move past and start something new with Peter.