kid

drinks

Thank you so much for over 1k reads! Ily all <3

Also I have an Instagram now where I share edits and talk about random things (basically am my bisexual fangirl weird self). If you're interested it's marvelousmal23

I love this chapter so much and it's like the longest chapter I've ever written

Sorry the title sucks I couldn't think of anything (I was so close to just naming it fuck that's how clueless I was)

Anyway, enjoy :)

Fuck.

That's all Peter could think.

Fuck Tony. Fuck the Avengers. Fuck his life.

Fuck everyone that screwed him over.

Fuck everyone who screwed him up.

Fuck

Them

All

Anger took hold, and he began to run. He ran and ran, not knowing where he was going, just knowing it was away from everyone. His breath started to come in bursts. His lungs felt on the verge of collapse. He didn't know how long he'd been running, but it had to have been a while.

Finally, his body gave up, and he collapsed onto his knees.

"FUCK!" he screamed, hitting the ground hard with his fist.

Screaming hot pain exploded through his hand, and he looked to see redness blooming all across it.

But he didn't care. The pain felt good. The pain centered him.

Peter breathed in and out, and after a few minutes, he'd managed to catch up on breathing. Then he looked at his surroundings for the first time. He was on the side of a road surrounded by trees. He looked down the road and managed to see a building in the distance. He couldn't tell what it was, but he didn't care.

Where there was a building, there were people. Where there were people, there was a person who knew the closest place to get some form of alcohol.

And that's all he wanted.

He stood up, ignoring the cracked pavement where he had punched the ground and the small ache in his legs. He started to walk towards the building, praying that it was either a bar, club, or store.

As he was walking, Peter looked down and noticed he still had the cigarette in his hand. He quickly dropped it and stepped on it as hard as he could. He then checked over himself. His hand was still red and would probably end up bruising for a few hours. He was wearing some black jeans, a tight white shirt, and an old pair of tennis shoes that were falling apart at the seams (the run probably hadn't helped, they were pretty fucked up before).

Finally, he stood in front of the building, and when the sign saying 7-Eleven stared back, he almost burst into tears of joy. Peter immediately rushed inside and headed straight toward the adult beverage aisle. He stared at the drinks trying to decide what direction to go.

He wanted to get drunk off his ass. Which wasn't easy when you're enhanced. It took a lot more alcohol for him to start feeling a buzz. Which is why he stuck to stronger stuff.

He grabbed a bottle of vodka, deciding this would do. Buying loads of liquor would be more than suspicious. There had to be some kind of town nearby. And where there was a town, there was always a bar.