Soulmate AU

My paint covered fingers grip onto the paintbrush as I finish the composition with one final stroke. "Wonderful job, Y/N," my art teacher says with a sigh of awe. I just smile sadly because I know what she's not saying, the thing that she's learned to stop talking about to me. The colors.

I'm told all my works are vibrant, daring blends of them that makes my work so 'breathtaking,' but there's no way for me to tell. Everyone is different. Some have timers, others brands or necklaces, but me—well, I'm the point one percent of the population that can't see color. Until I meet my soulmate supposedly. I don't really know if I believe it anymore.

So, I just pretend like I do and act like I understand what everyone else I've known sees. "Thank you, Miss Miller." I tell her as I clean up my brushes and station. My eyes keep going back to the now covered canvas. All patterned over in shades of grey to make up an image of my dad smiling from behind the counter of our famous deli. It's going to be his birthday gift, and I hope he'll love it just as much as the others.

The bell rings signaling the end of school, and I linger in the art room with its messy counters and paint splatters to avoid the inevitable squeals of excitement as someone else gets one step closer. One step closer to finding the one person made to compliment them in every way, the other half of their pair, and who they're 'destined' to spend their lives with.

Unfortunately, Miss Miller catches me today and rushes me out once my painting is wrapped up and ready to go. I begrudgingly sling my backpack on my shoulder and leave the safety and quiet of the classroom into the bustling hallway. My best friend quickly finds me and sighs when she notices my frown.

"Uh oh, I know that look. She did the roundabout compliment again, didn't she?" Her fingers sign, which is nothing more than an old habit from before she found her soulmate. She was nearly deaf and relied on hearing aids until she met her soulmate, and the first thing both of them heard clearly was the others voice. It's one of the cuter tales that makes me slightly bitter.

"Yep." I sigh and adjust the straps of my backpack as a girl from down the hallway squeals as she either finds her soulmate or gets a step closer. "Don't worry about me though, I'll be fine. I just have to get home early to help my mom set up and properly wrap this for my dad."

"Y/N Delmar, don't you brush it off like it's nothing." She snaps and glares at me. "I know it's hard, but it will happen for you too. We're still young. You have a lot of time before you should even think about giving up."

"I know," I tell her with a forced smile and prepare the usual lie, "and I haven't given up. I'm just waiting for whoever it is to actually show up. Now, I'm sorry, but I really have to run." She nods, clearly not happy with my answer but knowing from experience arguing goes no where.

I give her a quick wave and tightly hold onto the paper wrapped canvas as I weave my way through the crowds to my Dad's bodega. For some reason, I'm feeling nervous and impatient to be surrounded by the familiar deli.

Something just doesn't feel right as I walk. My fingers curl and crinkle the plain brown paper. There's a knot forming in my gut that only grows with every passing moment. I half expect it to fade as the infamous Delma's Grocery and Deli comes into view, but it doesn't.

There's a tug, and my heart lurches in my chest as someone snatches the painting from my hand and runs down the street with it. He probably thinks it's worth something, but unfortunately for him, its monetary value is next to nothing. The sentimental value is priceless though. "Hey," I scream as I start running after the thief.

He darts into an alley, and as foolish as it is, I follow him. Because all I can think about is the piece I worked so hard on these past weeks for my dad that is clutched in his greasy hands. "Give that back!" I shout at him as I tug on the back of his hood to stop him.

The thief turns around with a sneer and flicks his wrist to reveal a small blade. "I suggest you walk away and forget about it, lady."

"Actually," another voice chimes in, and I turn around to come face to face with the Queens hero Spiderman, "I think it's the other way around. Now give the nice girl back her stuff and walk away." The thief's eyes widen as the canvas drops from his hands and he scrambles to get away before the hero can change his mind.

I pick it up and sigh at the damp paper that falls off at my touch. "Well, I guess it won't be much fun to unwrap now. Thank you though." I offer a soft smile to Spiderman, "You just helped me save my dad's gift."

The lenses on his mask widen for a split second, and he scratches the back of his neck as he attempts to be casual. "It's no problem, ma'am. It's just what I do."

"It's Y/N," I tell him as I walk by him, "and thank you again. It's kind of nice having a neighborhood hero around to help the little guys too. Trust me, we appreciate it."

"I-it's no problem." He stutters, and I let out a small laugh as I wave and leave the alleyway. All the while, I feel his eyes on me as I go and can't wipe the smile from my face.

My dad beams when he sees me walking through the door, and his smile only grows when he notices the bundle in my hand. "I know you said no gifts, but I couldn't help it." I tell him as I gently remove the damp paper wrapping. "Sorry about this. I ran into a small problem on the way over, but it should be fine."

I watch him as his eyes trace over every inch of the canvas in wonder, and that's when I notice it. The little bit of something peeking through the grey of his shirt.

The first bit of color I've ever seen.

It's faint. So much that it still is nearly lost amidst the greys, but it's still there. Which means one thing—I met my soulmate sometime today.

The thought sends my mind frantically backtracking, and I mentally review ever encounter I've had today. All the seemingly pointless research B/F/N helped me do last month suddenly springs back to my mind in a string of testimonials and facts.

My form of search is the rarest of rare, but people have often said that the colors didn't come all at once unless they really got to know their soulmate in the first moments. Most times they came with each individual interaction and only seemed to truly show in relation to their soulmate until they finally fell for them. But the one agreement across the board is that the colors were never so vibrant as they were on their soulmate.

Still, I may not be a math or science nerd, but even I know that the variables are exponential. It could be a stranger I passed, a brief interaction. Heck, it could even be Spiderman.

My heart drops a fraction. Whoever it is, I saw them today. They gave me a piece of the one thing I've wanted for so long, but I feel as though they've slipped through my fingers like runny paint.

So, I say nothing of the topic to my dad or anyone as I continue with my day like usual. After all, if the precious, all-powerful universe or forces that be or whatever want us together so badly; I'll let it do all the heavy work.

...
Peter's POV

I watch her complete dumbstruck. There's color, plain as day on her lips and shoes. It's almost blindingly vibrant against the grays, but it's undeniable proof.

Her lips curve up into a smile as she finally meets my eyes, and I know she's saying something but can't quite hear it over my own heartbeat roaring in my ears. All I catch is something along the lines of 'thank you.' I instinctively scratch at the back of my neck and try to keep calm as I reply, "It's no problem, ma'am. It's just what I do."

She moves closer to me as she speaks, "It's Y/N, and thank you again. It's kind of nice having a neighborhood hero around to help the little guys too. Trust me, we appreciate it."

"I-it's no problem." I want to curse myself for the stutter that makes its way into my words, but she doesn't seem to notice as she lets out a light laugh and waves. My head still spins as she walks away.

It's like my brain can't quite process the information, from the small pops of color now clear to me to the fact that I met her—my soulmate—and she's so much more beautiful than I expected. But I can't shake the feeling that there's something familiar about her—especially her smile.

Something in my brain clicks back into action though, and I scold myself for being an idiot to let her walk away. My feet carry me at a sprint out the alley; head swiveling in both directions to catch sight of her. Because even though we barely met, there's still that pull that everyone talk about, the one where you just have to know more.

I spot her farther down the street with her backpack secured over her shoulders and her mystery item wrapped tightly in her grasp. People give me strange looks and a wide berth as I chase her down the street, and it takes me a moment to realize why. I'm in my Spiderman suit.

I met my soulmate as Spiderman.

If I didn't feel like an idiot before, I really do now. Because I met my soulmate and can't tell her who I am without revealing my identity and putting her in danger. It bounces through my head as I watch her turn into the corner store and swing myself on an adjacent building to watch her—in the least creepy way possible.

It takes me a second to realize exactly where she's at until I spot her talking to Mr. Delmar with the package in her hand, which she unwraps with delicate fingers. I watch in amazement as the painting is revealed and she turns it over.

There are a flurry of the color I can now see across the canvas, and Mr. Delmar beams as she hands it over to him. Right then, it hits me. I know now why she looks so familiar. Y/N—as in Y/N Delmar, who her dad is always talking and bragging about to anyone will listen. She's the painter, writer, and genius as I've always heard, and it honestly makes me even more nervous to know that she's my soulmate.

I just don't know this is all going to work out. She met me as Spiderman and even just thinking about telling her who I am makes my head spin. So I do the only thing I can think of, I decide to ask Mr. Stark for advice—since Aunt May would only majorly flip out.

But right now, I simply just watch her and hope to know more about her.