#‘ned stark was so stupid I would never—’ shut up SHUT UP

[greenbloods]

scrolling through online fandom discussion is so frustrating because it’s always like

What if Achilles didn’t sulk in his tent?

Who would win in their prime, Odysseus or Nestor?

If I were Paris of Troy, I would’ve picked Athena instead of Aphrodite to give the golden apple to, so I could outsmart all my enemies and keep Helen. Why didn’t he think of this, was he stupid?

What if the tragedy happened any other way?

Anyone else feel like the whole Briseis-Achilles dynamic was kinda problematic?

Why was Achilles so full of rage?

Why didn’t the Trojans wheel a counter-horse into the Greek camp?

What if the tragedy happened any other way?

Why didn’t Oedipus ask his “bride” if she is his mother? Why doesn’t he outsmart the prophecy that is doomed to come true?

Why does Orpheus look back for Eurydice, knowing that this act of love would doom her to death a second time?

Why did Antigone choose to bury her brother, knowing full well that the love would doom her?

What if the tragedy happened any other way?

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

The Most Impossible Battle

Pairing: Young Robert Baratheon x Targaryen!Reader

Warnings: soft dubcon, NSFW, gradual consent, rough sex

Words: 3020

Summary: Robert hated all Targaryens. Wise words from those close to him though make Robert Baratheon give in to the idea of taking (y/n) Targaryen as his bride.

By the Gods Robert, have mercy on the girl.” Ned pleaded but was immediately shut up by Robert’s roaring voice.

“Mercy?! MERCY?! Did that Targaryen whore’s brother show your sister mercy when he raped her?!! The Targaryen don’t deserve mercy Ned!” Young and callous, Robert Baratheon’s beautiful blue eyes were now tainted with his fury and anger. He stood a few inches higher above the his Stark brother. Even with that fact, Ned refused to stand down on the matter.

With a stone face, he goes on “Her brother is to blame. She has done nothing wrong.”

That made Robert scoff. “Except let the others escape. She’s fully aware of her family’s guilt. Have you so quickly forgotten what her father had done to your brother and father? The whole family is taint and should be eradicated.”

Yes, young (y/n) Targaryen had made sure her younger siblings were well out of harms way. At the moment she had been captured she had sent her younger brother Viserys and newborn sister Daenerys away on a cargo ship. To where, she refused to say. Brave, Ned admired that much about the girl. In that moment he was reminded so much of Lyanna. Brave, beautiful and stubborn.

Ned couldn’t let Robert execute her. He didn’t want anymore blood shed thanks to this stupid war.

He gives Jon Arryn a sideways glance, asking for his help. Jon Arryn, Lord of the Vale, purses his lips together for a moment. “Think rationally Robert.” The older man did always have a way in reining him in. Both men viewed him as a surrogate father and in that aspect resonated a great deal of respect. “Even though there were a great deal of people who hated Aerys, there an even greater many who loved Rhaegar and (y/n). Those supporters are already upset at the death of Rhaegar, as deserving as it was. But (y/n)? She’s but a sweet maid who has done nothing. Those families might do something hasty if you were to execute her.”

“Then I’ll kill them. I’m king now and if a see someone that isn’t obedient I can surely have them executed. The whole lot of those Targaryen loving scum.” Spitting he stomps over to a large window to look over his new dominion of King’s Landing. Hands splayed on the windowsill he glares out over the city.

“Be reasonable Robert.” Jon tries again. “That will just earn you more resentment from the people you now govern. Otherwise you’d be just like Aerys.”

That made Robert’s broad shoulders go rigid. The last thing he wanted was to be compared to the Targaryen king. No, he didn’t want to be anything like Aerys. “Then what do you suggest I do with the girl?”

The room was quiet for a moment, as if Jon was afraid to even say the solution. One encouraging look from Ned gave him the strength he needed. “Marry her.”

Ned gaped at the Arryn lord, he hadn’t been expecting that as a solution.

Robert spun on his heel, dark mane of hair flying as he did so. “Marry her? Have you lost your mind?!”

“Not as much as you have.” Jon speaks truthfully, staring down the young man who used to be his ward. “Think about it Robert. If you marry her, then those who still support the Targaryens will have no choice but to support you. She’s well loved among the people. That would give you good reception, having her as your bride.”

Gritting his teeth, his blue eyes narrow. “No. Never. I will never marry her. It would be a disgrace upon the memory of Lyanna. Lyanna was who I was supposed to marry. And now because of that Targaryen bastard, she’s dead.”

“What’s done is done Robert. You cannot turn back time. But you can attempt to move on.” He tries to sound a little sympathetic. Robert had been deeply in love with Lyanna, but even Jon Arryn knew that his love only ran so deep. It hadn’t stopped Robert from sleeping with dozens of other women.

Sighing, Ned places a hand on Robert’s shoulder. “He’s right. You’re king now. You must do things that you don’t necessarily want to do. Keeping the peace by marrying her… It needs to be done Robert. There is still unrest all throughout Westeros. Her father and brother may have been bastards, but she was beloved by all the realms. It would do you good.”

“Damn you Ned. Damn you and your sensible words.”

*

Were they okay? You hoped Viserys didn’t lose his temper with the newborn Daenerys.

Your fingers made circles in the dirt that you called your bed.

They should be safely out in the open water. People would have a hard time finding that ship.

Fear and worry and the echo of Viserys pleading with you to go with them. But there wasn’t any time. Not for you at least. You had to delay Robert’s soldiers. That was the only way that the ship would be able to leave the port in time. Daenerys’ shrill cries still haunted you as you stared at the walls of your cell. You never thought in a million years that you would wind up there, in the dungeons of your ancestors.

You didn’t know what would be worse, you rotting away in the dungeon or Robert Baratheon having you executed. You understood why all this had happened, you weren’t that much of a naive girl. True you had been sheltered most of your life, you knew how the world worked. Your brother had been a fool. It was his fault for stealing the Stark girl although you didn’t believe one bit that he had raped her. That was not in Rhaegar’s nature. Neither was war. Now you were paying for the price of it. You knew that if the soldiers had caught Viserys he would have been as good as dead. He posed a threat to the usurper as now being the next in line for the Iron Throne. The last male heir of Aerys. What would your fate be?

You hadn’t anticipated marriage being an option.

Guards had dragged you out of your cell, filthy and stumbling as your eyes tried to adjust to the bright light that suddenly blinded you. You were lead to the reception hall that was once filled with the skulls of your family’s dragons. There in the back, commanding authority was the Iron Throne. On it now sat an imposing Robert Baratheon. It was an odd sight for you, seeing a man that wasn’t your insane father on the throne. One that lacked the Targaryen violet eyes and snow white hair. Robert’s thick hair clashed against your own; violently dark opposed to your gentle silver tresses. He looked every part of king, much more than your father did. During the last few years, Aerys’ body had begun to deteriorate greatly as his body thinned and became frail. Not Robert. His body was taught with muscle, ready to strike. His thick beard betrayed his young age, making him look so much more older than you knew he was. The new King of Westeros.

You had thought you were there to hear your death sentence. What came out of the stag king’s mouth nearly made you lose balance.

“I will take you as my queen. You have no say in the matter and will act accordingly unless you want to meet the same fate as your brother and father.” Stating with no compassion in his heart, rich blue eyes glare at you. “It seems fitting since he took my bride away.”

Opening your mouth you realize you didn’t know what to say. Surely you could oppose but what would that do to help you? From his voice it was clear that the last thing he wanted to do was marry you. The feeling was very much mutual. Even though your brother had been an idiot and had been in the wrong, you still hated Robert for killing him. You realized you might want death rather than this. To have to bed the man that killed Rhaegar… It made you sick. Rhaegar was an idiot, but he was your idiot. Dozens of memories resurfaced that nearly had you weeping.

“I… I am to be your bride?” The words were laced with venom. “A usurper’s queen?”

If he hadn’t been perched on the throne you knew he would’ve slapped you. Instead you noticed the subtle whitening of his knuckles as he gripped at the throne. “Watch your tongue, whore. You should be grateful that I don’t crush your skull in with my hammer.”

Dragon fire flushed your face. “I would rather you do that than subject me than your disease ridden cock.”

There was a collective gasp in the hall. A beloved princess you were, but that didn’t mean you let people step over you. You were blood of the dragon after all.

“Your grace,” broke in a voice next to you. A solemn looking man took to your side. The sigil of a direwolf displayed proudly on his vest. “Please, I know this must be difficult for you but it is the best course of action for you to take. You’ll still have your life and your people.”

“And what of my respect? My dignity? I lose all that to the Baratheon usurper.”

In a more hushed tone, the young Stark lord bends a bit to whisper in your ear. “I promise to you, if you go through with this I’ll make sure your siblings remain safe. To the old Gods and the new, I swear that they won’t be harmed.”

You soften. The Starks kept good to their word, everyone knew that. How could you say no when it ensured the safety of your siblings?

“Okay… Okay.”

*

By the Gods she was beautiful. Disgustingly beautiful with her Targaryen traits. Robert hated it. Hated her and her entire family. But he couldn’t deny her beauty. Especially when she stood there in front of him, her Targaryen cloak around her shoulders about to be replaced by the Baratheon yellow and black. She looked every bit a queen should. Full pouting lips, dark eyelashes that kissed at her cheeks when she fluttered her eyelids. The trail of her neck that led down to a prominent collar bone (probably from having been denied food for days).

It should have been Lyanna there in her place. Jon Arryn was right in one thing though, he couldn’t go back. He couldn’t dream of mending the past. Nothing would bring Lyanna back to him. Robert would take Rhaegar’s sister as retribution; watch the fallen prince turn in his grave as he married her.

Robert couldn’t deny his immense attraction to her though. More so now that she stood in front of them in their wedding chambers. The Bedding Ceremony was about to commence. Violet eyes hold onto blue as she stands her ground.

“Turn around.” He growls out. “I don’t want to look at your face.”

“The feeling’s mutual.” She hisses back and turns around. Her silver hair had been done so meticulously in luscious braids and curls that even Robert couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and grabbing her hair. Catching himself, he gives it a good yank making her suck in breath at the pain. His other hand goes to the laces on the back of her dress, easily ripping them to reveal her flawless, bare, back. Such beautiful skin. Robert’s fingers glide along her back before tearing off the rest of her dress so that it pooled around her feet. (y/n) continues to stand tall with her back straight. Grabbing the back of her neck, Robert bends her over the bed so that her face was pressed into the mattress; her small hands curled tightly into the silken bedsheets. Preparing for whatever Robert had planned for her. Surely she must know what he would do. Treat her as harshly as Rhaegar must have treated Lyanna. His thick thigh pushes her legs apart and Robert nearly sighs at the sight. The sight of her exposed and bent over was enough for him to salivate over. What a beautiful cunt she had. Possibly the most beautiful he had seen. He wanted to run his tongue along her slit and taste her.

(y/n) struggled slightly to move her face into a better position for her to breathe. As she did so she unconsciously wiggled her ass, an ass that begged for a smack.

That’s just what he did. Reeling his hand back and smacking her ass. “Stay still.” A vivid red handprint starts to bloom on her rear. His large hand grabs her pussy and with his fingers spreads her lower lips apart in preparation for his cock. He was a little bit too excited to fuck her. He shouldn’t have felt the thrill of it rush through him. In the end he was just as weak as any other man. As much as he wanted to be rough, he also wanted to enjoy it. Ever so slowly he pushes his cock inside of her inch by inch. Each slow movement of him entering her made (y/n) tremble and dare he say, even moan a little bit. Finally he was completely sheathed inside of her. Robert let his head roll back, eyes closing at the sublime feeling of her wonderful cunt. It was unlike anything else he had felt before. And he had fucked many maidens. Many virgins as well. None had felt quite so good though. His pace was slow at first, enjoying each contraction her cunt made as he slid his cock in and out. Using his hands, he tilted her hips up even more and hitting the right place, (y/n) lets out a shaky moan. It made him pick up the pace and pound into her. The sound of his pelvis smacking against her ass as he went balls deep into her was maddening.

“Fuck.” His deep voice groans out. He wanted to see her face. Wanted to see her tits as he fucked her senselessly. With such ease he flips her onto her back. (y/n)’s face was incredibly red now that she faced him. She was trying to glare at him but once Robert slid back into her, her eyes rolled back into her head. Crying out as he rammed into her over and over again, so much so that it made her tits bounce. Robert wraps his fingers around her slender neck putting the slightest pressure; tightening his grip little by little.

*

Fuck

Fuck

FUCK

It was becoming hard to breathe but that was the least of your worries. The sight of Robert, his barrel chest and taught abs fucking you was too much to bear. Hard lines of his muscles twitching as he tightened his fingers around your neck.

Why did it feel so good? He was basically fucking you like a whore. You were a pureblood Targaryen and deserved better. But you found yourself enjoying his harsh treatment. You wanted him to get rougher. You wanted him to pound harder into you so that you wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow.

Head becoming light and warm, something else was happening. You felt a tightening below. The more he fucked you, the tighter the coil seemed to get until…

No. You didn’t want to be the first one to come undone. You didn’t want him to know that you were actually enjoying it. At the rate he was going though it was only a matter of time.

To take back control you launched yourself at him, catching him by surprise and his hand releasing from your neck. With your surprise attack you wrestle him so that he was now the one under you on the bed. His cheeks are red, eyes hard as he regards you with question. His about to protest until you sit yourself down on his cock. Protest devolving into a groan he lets his head fall onto the mattress as you roll your hips. You place your hands on his hard chest. Bobbing up and down his cock you try to ignore your cunt begging for release. Curling your fingers, you dig your nails into his chest and drag them harshly down. His face scrunches up, baring his teeth and hissing. Hands reaching around you to grab at your ass, he pulls you quickly up and down. You wouldn’t allow him to be in control for too long though. Again you dig your nails and drag them. Robert releases your ass and glares up at you. Beautiful blue eyes. Your own little hands reach to his thick neck and tighten like claws of a hawk. Using that as support you lift yourself off of his engorged member and start to tease the head of his cock. Slowly, torturously slow, you barely sit down enough for the head to be sheathed before coming back up. Your husband growls impatiently, wanting you to go back to riding his cock. You’re just buying yourself more time and shortening his. That’s when you sit all the way down on his cock. His mouth gapes open as you ride him. His breathing become hard, his hips desperately thrusting to match you.

You feel his body lock up underneath you as he lets out a loud groan.

The two of you were frozen in that position, trying to regain your breath. You had won. At least this battle. A bit unsteadily you lift yourself off of him; something warm and wet dribbling out. Smuggly you lay down beside him and stare at the ceiling, the space between your legs upset with you that you denied yourself your own orgasm.

“Well fuck.” Robert pants. Lazily he turns his head. “You didn’t come.”

“I wouldn’t dare grant you that satisfaction.” You roll away from him and onto your side.

Determined to prove you wrong, Robert’s hand lands on your shoulder and rolls you onto your back. “Fuck that noise. I’m gonna make you cum so hard that you’ll see stars.”

[thelustybraavosimaid]

people get weird about yall talking about Arya Like That™️ because, as a former tomboy, people like you cannot shut the fuck up about little girls who are not feminine. we HAVE to become effeminate mothers to you people and a its disgusting way to talk about any little girl. it is weird and gross to push femininity on someone who does not want it. hell yeah Arya belongs in a ruling position but her looks/femininity/status as a wife/mother are not important to her character and never will be.

What the fuck lol

Is this a joke

When did Arya ever say that she wasn't feminine or, by extension, that she didn't want to be perceived as anything other than a girl? She literally corrected people who mistook her for a boy.

Are we also pretending like she doesn't have any hang-ups regarding her looks. This is why Lady Smallwood calling her pretty stuck with her:

Arya spotted a yellow tent with six acrons on its panels, three over two over one. Lord Smallwood, she knew, remembering Acorn Hall so far away, and the lady who'd said she was pretty. (Arya X, ASoS)

or that Ned and Jon were the only ones who called her pretty back in Winterfell:

She had never cared if she was pretty, even when she was stupid Arya Stark. Only her father had ever called her that. Him, and Jon Snow, sometimes. (The Blind Girl, ADwD)

These hang-ups exist for her because she was constantly being compared to Sansa and she felt inadequate and hurt by it in turn. Also from The Blind Girl:

Her mother used to say she could be pretty if she would just wash and brush her hair and take more care with her dress, the way her sister did.

--

It wasn't fair. Sansa had everything. Sansa was two years older; maybe by the time Arya had been born, there had been nothing left. Often it felt that way. Sansa could sew and dance and sing. She wrote poetry. She knew how to dress. She played the high harp and the bells. Worse, she was beautiful. Sansa had gotten their mother's fine high cheekbones and the thick auburn hair of the Tullys. Arya took after their lord father. Her hair was a lusterless brown, and her face was long and solemn. Jeyne used to call her Arya Horseface, and neigh whenever she came near. It hurt that the one thing Arya could do better than her sister was ride a horse. Well, that and manage a household. Sansa had never had much of a head for figures. If she did marry Prince Joff, Arya hoped for his sake that he had a good steward. (Arya I, AGoT)

This hang-up, these comparisons are not dissimilar to Catelyn comparing Brandon to Ned in regards to looks. Maybe Ned felt the same thing growing up.

How is her Stark appearance *not important* to her character? It's a serious connector to Lyanna, and they looked so alike that Bran mistook Lyanna for Arya in one of his weirwood visions lol, and she's one of the last two in her generation to have the Stark look. There is no way that isn't important.

No one said that Arya has to be an effeminate mother lol but what we're not going to do is lie on this fine morning

[babybatscreationsv2]

At the Altar

Starker | Marvel

When Peter gets left at the altar on his wedding day, it's his dad who comes to comfort him. Harry was never a good fit to join the family, anyway. It's always best to keep family to together and to keep outsiders- out. And Tony would do anything for his son.

Rating: Explicit

For my little prompter

Warnings and tags below

Warnings and tags: incest, mafia au, emotional manipulation, minor off screen character death, left at the altar, praise kink, daddy kink, possessive behavior/sex

Peter stared into the mirror. He fixed his tie for the millionth time. Things weren't going to plan, but then again when had they ever gone to plan? He was a Stark after all. Well, sort of. He'd been given his mother's last name much to his father's displeasure. And soon he'd be an Osborn. His dad had a lot of reservations about Harry, but what can you do when you're in love? Peter chewed his lip. What was taking so long?

"You want me to go and check again?" Ned asked. The poor guy looked more nervous than Peter.

"Yeah, go ahead. We were supposed to go out thirty minutes ago. Something has to be wrong."

Ned gave him an extremely fake reassuring smile. "I'm sure it's fine. Probably just a wardrobe malfunction."

"Yeah, sure." Ned left him alone and Peter fixed his tie again. He'd felt so good about today when he woke up that morning. Now his stomach was bubbling with anxiety.

He jumped as the door opened. Ned came back into the room. His face was pale and his eyes were wide.

"Peter..." He started, but a hand grabbed his shoulder. Peter let out a breath at the sight of his father.

"Dad, what's going on?"

Tony came into the room. He gave Ned a deadly look and pushed him back through the door. Then he shut it and locked it behind him. Peter's stomach sank even more.

"Dad?"

His father looked at him with a face that was all too familiar. He had bad news. Peter walked away from the mirror and sat down on the couch. He shook his head.

"No... he can't..."

Tony sighed. "Oh, Petey." He sat down beside him and wrapped his arm around his shoulders, drawing him in. "I'm so sorry, kid. But it's not really all that surprising is it?"

"What do you mean?" Peter rasped through the lump in his throat. He hugged his father's chest.

"You and Harry were never going to work out. You know that. This was always a silly little fling. The whole family knew it."

"Really?"

"He was only marrying you out of pity after all. You're such a clingy, emotional, thing. It must have been too hard for him to let you down easy. Still, it's such an embarrassment. A Stark being turned down? Left at the altar? And at your age as well."

Peter sobbed. He was right. All of this was so shameful, so humiliating. But no matter how hard he shut his eyes it didn't go away. He had wasted so much time with Harry. He thought they were in love. He was so stupid. His dad stroked his back and he curled more into him. Tony kissed the top of his head.

"I guess I have no choice now. What else am I for besides fixing your problems, right?"

Peter nodded. He wanted that. It was embarrassing that he needed his dad to take care of him like this, but he couldn't face the family after all this. But dad always knew what to do. He could make this better.

"What do we do?" he asked. His voice was so embarrassingly small.

"I'll just have to do it won't I? There's no choice really."

Peter sat up and blinked his teary eyes at his father. "Do what, dad?"

His father's hand touched his cheek. "I'll make you mine." Peter sat still and obedient as his father leaned in and kissed his lips. A little noise escaped him, one of pleasure and confusion. He kissed him so tenderly and not at all in the way a father should.

"Daddy?" Peter asked. He couldn't help it. He felt so small, so overwhelmed, so confused.

His father looked at him with only love. "I always take care of you don't I, sweetheart?" Peter nodded. "Then be a good boy and don't question me."

"But what are we doing?"

"We're getting married, baby. The family's all gathered for a wedding. Besides, it's better this way. Family belongs together not with some spineless outsider."

"But..."

"I've already handled all of the paperwork and the family is going to meet us at the reception. Now all that's left is for you to say thank you."

"Thank you, daddy."

Tony stroked his cheek with his thumb. "That's my boy." He leaned in and kissed him again, slowly coaxing him into a deeper kiss, taking over his mouth with lips and tongue. Peter could only do what he was told and it felt good.

His father's hands slid his jacket off his shoulders. He slowly untied his tie. His hands slid down into the waist of his pants and un-tucked his shirt. Then carefully he worked his way up the buttons.

"Daddy," Peter whined again, his nerves were getting to him. He was supposed to marry Harry today and now he was marrying his father? That probably wasn't legal, but he was sure his dad had found a way to make it legal.

"Hush, baby," Tony purred. "Be a good boy."

He let him take off his shirt and push him back on the couch. He spread his legs to let him fit in between. It felt so good when his dad pressed theirs hips together, rubbing against his cock. His hands wrapped around the back of his neck.

Peter moaned when his dad kissed him. Those hands kept working to strip him naked. There was a forbidden edge to it that felt scary, but it was all too easy to be his daddy's good boy and do what he was told.

Tony stripped out of his jacket and let it crumple on the floor. Peter watched, enraptured, as he slid off his belt, popped the button of his slacks, and pulled the zipper down. He reached one hand inside and palmed his cock. Peter whined.

"Do you want to be mine, baby?"

No part of him wanted to admit that out loud, but when he tried to pull Tony back down to distract him with more kisses it was useless. He only sat above him, staring down with a self satisfied smile.

Peter squirmed and chewed his lip. Then he whispered, "Yes, daddy."

"You always want daddy to take care of you. No one else can do it like I do. They can't give you want you need."

Peter shook his head in agreement. "Just you, daddy." He look his dad gave him as he stared down at him all while touching himself, it was objectifying. And thrilling. He could see how much the man wanted him and he wanted it, too.

"Dad, please," he breathed. Tony bent and kissed him again. He fit himself between Peter's thighs. His dad's bare cock touched his hip and he gasped. He felt him reaching around for something, then his hand came back wet and slick. He'd been ready for this, he'd been planning, he should have known. It should have been terrifying. If it frightened him at all, the feeling was buried to deep beneath pleasure. Which is probably exactly what his dad wanted. He knew how to manipulate him. Draw him in until it was too late.

"Are you ready, baby?" Tony looked into his eyes. The tip of his cock pressed against his hole.

Peter nodded his head, "please." He pushed in slowly. Peter's head fell back against the arm of the couch, mind buzzing with the understanding that his dad's dick was inside of him and it felt better than anything he'd ever had.

Tony groaned as he buried himself inside his son, pushing as deep as he could and then some, as if it wasn't enough. "You're mine, Peter. All mine. Tell me."

"I'm yours," Peter gasped, nails digging into his shoulders as he started to move, fucking him deep and hard as if he could get in deeper. It hurt, but felt so fucking good.

Tony kissed his mouth, then his neck, sucking marks into his skin until he squealed. "Who do you belong to?" He growled in his ear.

"You daddy!" Peter gasped. "I belong to my daddy!" He squealed as a hand wrapped around his cock. He pulled Tony down against him, holding on his neck and his shoulders and his back, everywhere his hands could reach. "So close, so close-" he moaned. "Dad, I'm gonna-"

"Do it, baby. That's my good boy."

Peter whined, high and desperate, panting hot against his father's face, foreheads pressed together, losing himself to pleasure as his dad fucked him until he came all but screaming and daddy kept fucking him, wringing him dry until it hurt and he didn't care. He was good and still, whimpering while daddy fucked his hole until he was finished and he came all the way inside him, fucking it deeper for good measure.

Tony kissed him, but Peter's kisses were sleepy and lazy. He felt light headed and sated like when you eat too much. His dad stroked his face and looked down at him with adoration.

"There," he said. "Now everything's right."

Peter nodded. "You always take care of me. Thank you, daddy."

Tony kissed his forehead. "You should rest for a bit. The party can wait."

Peter dug his fingers into his shirt. "Stay."

His dad smiled. "Anything for you, sweetheart." He curled his arms around him and adjusted them on the couch so he could hold him. He pet Peter's hair until he fell asleep and he laid watching his sweet face. He was sure Peter knew, or would realize if he didn't know already. He was smart. And Tony always did what was best for the family. Especially when it came to Peter.

There wouldn't be a body to uncover and Harry's car was already on the way to the crusher, but he'd figure it out. He would understand.

[rise-my-angel]

I am an avid fan of your work!

Seriously, the Dany fans are worse than militant Swifties sometimes lmao. (I also feel it necessary to point out that I’m referring to the deranged swifties) Don’t let them bother you (which is easy to say, I know)

It’s clear from some of the hate you’re getting that there is a particular culture of Dany fans who have no skills in engaging with texts critically - in that sometimes they have to consider both sides of an argument. If they see anyone disagree with their ‘absolutely right opinion’ then they throw huge temper tantrums.

There’s nothing wrong with people who like her and I’m not saying they’re stupid at all but that little microcosm of people who are obsessed with her and actively go out of their way to harass you clearly lack any sort of decorum and make it so very clear they don’t understand the series lol.

Or better yet, if they don’t like seeing posts that are anti Targaryen then perhaps they should consider not interacting with that post.

In my opinion, I think it’s daft to feel so passionately about a character who is clearly extremely power hungry, because if a Dany stan was magically transported to Westeros they likely would have been burned because let’s face it, she doesn’t care about her people to the extent people suggest she does, she only cares about power.

Basically, I think you’re great and your writing is beautiful and keep it up!

It sort of just baffles me at this point how often they feel the need to defend her against any and all criticism. I see criticism of characters I love, but I ignore it. I see a lot of Ned Stark criticism from Rhaegar stans but I simply instead make my own post about my own views and opinions on that matter rather than engage in arguing. I am fine with the fact that I probably haven't changed anyones mind on Dany as a character, I am here to just explore my interpretations and why I got to them. Not to debate her fans on their own personal enjoyment.

I've had a surprisingly high number of even random one off anons tell me to just "shut up about her keep her name out of your mouth" and it's like, I never tag her name alone. I only ever use anti tags so that people who disagree or like her don't have to see my stances against her but it's like they seek out ways to get angry when I never post my thoughts to the tags I know normal Dany stans will be in. I can be a snarky smart ass sometimes in my tags but I don't actually go out of my way to upset these people.

Blindly defending everything a character does to me, seems nonsensical when we are talking about a character with a violent streak for cruelty and uses her dragons as a threat for mass death. I feel like on a very surface level analysis, those are things which naturally deserve criticism about her as a character. Even with my favourite characters, I can explain WHY they did something negative but I won't blindly defend them as being correct or in the unquestioning right about the matter.

I had someone yesterday send me an ask claiming I was being disingenuous and blaming Sansa for something by pointing out a bunch of things I write literally did not say, because they were just mad they disagreed with my point.

It just doesn't make sense to me, going to someones blog or adding onto someones own post JUST to tell you they think your interpretation of something is backwards and wrong or stupid and mean.

That is not a productive way to convince someone that you have a point worth listening too.

[buckybeardreams]

Saw this post, had some thoughts that weren't entirely related to it lol, but I kinda wanna write some identity porn now 👀👀

--

Peter has the biggest stupidest crush on Tony Stark, but Tony's never even met the boy, at least, he's never met Peter Parker.

Spiderman works with the Avengers on occasion, has even been in Stark Tower and was given a walkthrough of the lab, but Peter knows he'd never stand a chance if Tony knew who he really was. He's just some stupid kid with some stupid school boy crush, so there's no way someone like Tony would want him.

And when he drunkenly tweets about how Spiderman and Iron Man have so much tension they should just get a room already, he definitely didn't think Tony would see it.

But then Tony retweets it and responds with who says we don't already have one? He even tags it #ironspider—the ship name Ned came up with because Peter wouldn't shut up about Tony—and Peter's sure it's a joke.

It has to be, right?

But what if it's not…

He has to test the man, has to find out for sure if he's joking or not, so Peter sends him a DM, not really expecting a reply.

You a Spidey fan, huh, Mr. Stark? Because I have it on good authority that he sleeps in an Iron Man hoodie

He's shocked when a reply comes almost instantly, but when he clicks on it, he definitely doesn't expect the response he gets.

Oh really? Know if he gets off wearing it? Would love to see that 😉

Peter was fucking dying! Like literally blushing so hard he thought he would die!

Peter whimpered, biting his lip and reaching his hand into his pants.

Don't know, sir, but I know that I'm getting off rn

Peter couldn't believe he actually sent that! He wasn't even that drunk! He found it hard to believe any of this was even real, especially when Tony didn't hesitate to type back, yeah, you gonna send me a pic, baby boy?

Seriously, what the fuck was even happening!

Peter was pretty sure he was having a wet dream, because there was no fucking way he sent out a tweet about Spiderman and Iron Man fucking and inadvertently ended up sexting with Tony Stark as himself! There was just no fucking way!

Baby boy? And what does that make you? My daddy?

If you call me Daddy, little boy, I'm gonna need you to do more than just send me a pic

Peter shivered, whimpering as he read the warning, once, twice, his hand squeezing at his leaking cock.

"Holy fuck!" Peter whined.

You better not come without asking first was Tony's next message.

Didn't, Peter rushed to respond, typing on his phone one handed so he could keep a hand wrapped around himself, promise, Daddy

Jesus Christ, kid, you're killing me

Peter giggled.

He could all but hear Tony's groan.

Sorry, Daddy

Don't apologize when you don't mean it, brat

What makes you think I don't mean it?

Just a guess, Tony replied, quickly followed by, you still touching yourself?

Yes, sir

Sir is it?

I can't give you more than a pic, so I guess it has to be

Does that mean I'm getting a pic, baby?

[agentrouka-blog]

I will admit, I’ve never read the books (for SHAME, I know) and have only seen the show and read many analyses by all you lovely folks (I like my happy little pro Sansa & Jon/Jonsa corner), so the question I’m about to ask might be silly.

I get Varys’ endgame - he wants Aegon (aka a king he has influence over/he thinks will be good) in charge. And that’s been his plan since AGOT, IIRC. But… what do you think was Littlefinger’s plan at the start? Did he even have one? Or was it just “chaos is a ladder” and he was winging it? We know he convinced Lysa to Poison Jon Arryn and place the blame on the Lannisters… was he hoping Ned would make it to the Capitol, let his honor get him killed, and then that would open up Cat for marriage? He tells Lysa he’s only ever loved Cat, but even so I don’t know what a marriage to Cat would get him… He’s always wanted her so there’s satisfaction in that, but would that be enough for a power hungry man like LF? I doubt it. And killing off sickly sweetrobin is one thing, but Cat had three healthy boys so it’s not like he could reasonably get that warden position. Obviously, at some point his plan became “get Sansa the North, Riverlands, and the Vale and become her consort,” but I find it hard to believe that was his plan from the very start… I’m rambling now so I’ll shut up, but would love to know your thoughts on it??

Hi there!

First of all:

(We shame because we love. <3 )

That out of the way, I think Littlefinger’s main motivation with Ned is not gaining power through a marriage to Catelyn. As you describe, that’s an impossibility. 

I’d say it’s simple revenge, alongside the intention to destabilize the kingdoms to create some of that much-desired chaos for ladder purposes. 

Petyr Baelish was a charity ward in a High Lord’s castle, and the effect of growing up in such an environment, the wealth and opportunity and power he witnessed without being able to fully partake - and the ease with which he was expelled - left a deep wound and an insatiable ambition. 

He challenged Brandon Stark (!) for Catelyn’s hand, perhaps because he believed she slept with him that one time, perhaps because he genuninely believed (like Quentyn) the power of a good story would be enough to overcome reality, and their classist society and give him his dream. Instead he was beaten to a pulp and then thrown out on his still-recovering butt two weeks later when Lysa spilled the beans about the pregnancy to Hoster. 

Everyone thought it was because of that stupid duel with Brandon Stark, but that wasn't so. (ASOS, Sansa VII)

He was completely humiliated and reminded of “his place”, and had only Lysa’s infatuation left to capitalize on. Which he did thoroughly. A slow climb based on flexibly taking advantage of every opportunity he could identify. Once the pieces lined up, he could get to work on doing to them what was done to him. 

Littlefinger gets Ned killed - killed and humiliated and publicly stripped of his honor: the guy who got Catelyn, brother to the guy who physically humiliated him. But he also destroys Catelyn’s happiness, her family, her peace. He may have loved her, and he certainly uses that sentiment as a weapon to hurt Lysa in her final moments, but it’s not his motivation to be with Catelyn now. 

He transferred that past obsession onto someone new, and incorporated that into his plan to destroy his past “enemies” Tully and Stark, while at the same time making her a potential puzzle piece to gaining power through her (as of yet potential) inheritance. 

Reason 1: her look and her family connection (easily controlled replacement Catelyn)

When Sansa finally looked up, a man was standing over her, staring. He was short, with a pointed beard and a silver streak in his hair, almost as old as her father. "You must be one of her daughters," he said to her. He had grey-green eyes that did not smile when his mouth did. "You have the Tully look."

"I'm Sansa Stark," she said, ill at ease. The man wore a heavy cloak with a fur collar, fastened with a silver mockingbird, and he had the effortless manner of a high lord, but she did not know him. "I have not had the honor, my lord." 

Septa Mordane quickly took a hand. "Sweet child, this is Lord Petyr Baelish, of the king's small council."

"Your mother was my queen of beauty once," the man said quietly. His breath smelled of mint. "You have her hair." His fingers brushed against her cheek as he stroked one auburn lock. Quite abruptly he turned and walked away. (AGOT, Sansa II)

Reason 2: her romanticism, which is thoroughly unlike Catelyn and feeds into the fantasies he harbored as a boy.

Lord Baelish stroked his little pointed beard and said, "Nothing? Tell me, child, why would you have sent Ser Loras?"

Sansa had no choice but to explain about heroes and monsters. The king's councillor smiled. "Well, those are not the reasons I'd have given, but …" He had touched her cheek, his thumb lightly tracing the line of a cheekbone. "Life is not a song, sweetling. You may learn that one day to your sorrow."

Sansa did not feel like telling all that to Jeyne, however; it made her uneasy just to think back on it. (AGOT, Sansa III)

Reason 3: the Bael the Bard move. 

One day in his bitterness he called Bael a craven who preyed only on the weak. When word o' that got back, Bael vowed to teach the lord a lesson. (ACOK, Jon VI) 

He was humiliated so he’ll humiliate them back, by stealing the daughter of his enemies (Tully and Stark) and making her his, claiming their legacy and turning it into his own. 

He has pragmatic, political reasons to use Sansa as a pawn, but his inability to control himself around her, his uninvited touching gives away that he is personally invested.  

That’s what will break his neck eventually. He’ll trip into vastly overestimating himself like he did with Brandon, and this time no one will beg to spare him. Not because that boy back then deserved to be crushed by feudal hierarchy, but because he allowed himself to become a monster because of his bitterness and caused vast death and destruction. 

[cruciology]

Under the Table

Requested by anon: Ok i don’t know if this is too smutty but could I request a sandor x reader where they’re at a tavern or something and reader starts touching him under the table. No one notices but he has to stay serious and tries his best to hide it and as soon as they’re both alone she’s getting her reward.

a sequel to my fic, The Princess and the Dog

The chilly air of Winterfell gave you constant goosebumps. You supposed it was better than being on the King’s Road as you had been for a month, but you were still cold, even with the new fur cloak you had been gifted by your father. You had a feeling it meant he had bad news for you, he just hadn’t told you yet.

You wrapped the cloak tighter around your nightdress as you stepped out of your room and into the hall. Your little sister slept like the dead in the room next to yours. It was only your first night in Winterfell, but you had taken notice of where the guards were placed. It was easy enough to avoid them as you sneaked to the end of the hall, passed where Joffrey and Tommen slept, and rapped on the Hound’s door. After a moment, it cracked open just the slightest bit. When he saw it was you, the Hound quickly pulled you in before anyone could see.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He growled, shutting the door as quietly as he could. He had been in bed and wore only his pants, his hairy chest bare.

“I didn’t get caught, it’s alright,” you insisted. You were hoping he would be happier to see you. On the road, you were constantly surrounded by guards or your family. Besides a few squeezes of your hand in passing, you hadn’t felt his touch since you left the capitol. Your mother had kept her promise and hadn’t said anything after she had caught you with him in the library, but she kept a closer eye on you now. “I missed you,” you said softly.

His mouth was a hard line as he looked at you. Finally, he placed his hands on your hips, drawing you close to him. You pressed your face into his chest, almost crying at having him close again after all this time.

“It was stupid,” he said as he held you. You laughed.

“Don’t worry, I know you missed me too,” you said. He sat down on the wooden chair that stood by his window, pulling you by the hand until you sat on his lap. The cloak fell to the floor but you were warm enough when he wrapped his arms around you, his rough hands sliding over the silk of your nightdress.

Finally, you were able to press your lips to his. You kissed him gently first, as a lady should, but then you needed to show him just how much you missed him. Heat pooled between your thighs as you threaded your fingers through his hair, kissing him hungrily. He growled low in his throat as he kissed you back. His hand went under the hem of your nightdress, up your thigh, and you gasped softly as his finger entered you. You hadn’t even had enough space in the last month to touch yourself and his touch felt like magic as he stroked you from the inside.

He kissed your cheek, your jaw, then your neck, sending a chill down your spine that had nothing to do with the cold. “How does that feel, Princess?” He asked against the shell of your ear.

“So good,” You muttered back, eyes closed.

You felt him start to remove his hand and squeezed your thighs tight in an attempt to keep him going. He laughed slightly as he brought his hand to his face. He licked you off of his fingers, groaning softly and sending another surge of heat through your body.

He kissed you roughly, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. “You taste so fucking good,” He said against your mouth. He gathered you up in his arms with ease, moving to take you to the bed.

Someone pounded on the door with a heavy hand. In an instant, you were on the bed, the Hound quickly covering you with the thick blanket. Your heart pounded in your chest as you listened to the Hound open the door once again. It nearly froze when you heard your father’s voice in the hall.

“Didn’t wake you, did I, Clegane?” He laughed. He was drunk, it was clear from his slurred words. The welcome feast ended hours ago. He must have stayed up drinking with his old friends.

“Wasn’t sleeping, Your Grace,” The Hound spoke to your father with your taste still on his lips. “What can I do for you?”

“Put some clothes on, Hound, we’re going on a hunt,” The King said. You could hear him clap the Hound on the shoulder roughly.

“It’s well past midnight, Your Grace,” The Hound informed him.

“What are you, my wife?” Your father said. “I am your king!”

“Why don’t you retire to your chambers, I’ll get you more wine,” The Hound suggested. He knew your father well. He wouldn’t say no to more alcohol.

“Wine and a girl,” The King laughed. Your lip curled in disgust, but if it got him away from the Hound’s room without him seeing you in the bed, you didn’t care what your father did.

“Wine and a girl,” the Hound confirmed.

“Get one for yourself while you’re at it.” You heard your father stumble away. For a brief moment you wondered if you should worry about him, but there were dozens of other guards along the way who would help him back up to his room. He would most likely be asleep before the Hound could find him again.

You felt the blanket fly off of you as soon as the door was closed. “Go back to your room,” The Hound instructed. “Now.”

You stood up, not even coming to his shoulder. You reached up, touching the burnt side of his face, letting your fingers memorize the scar. His eyes closed just briefly. He put his hand over yours. You stood on your toes, kissing him gently before sneaking out again.

---

You never really drank. But after the news you had gotten, you decided now was as good a time as any. Your body wasn’t quite used to it, only having previously had a few sips here and there. As the residents of Winterfell were once again crammed into the dining hall, you nursed your third glass, feeling the warmth spread in your chest. Everyone was pleasantly drunk around you, save for the severe Ned Stark and his lady wife, so you didn’t feel left out despite sitting off on your own at a table near the exit.

You stared at the table where your newly announced betrothed sat. Robb Stark was handsome, strong, and kind. He had lands and a title. You would be the Lady of Winterfell. You had known this was coming, but it didn’t mean you had to like it. Your mother didn’t even try to hide the smug look on her face when your father broke the news to you earlier. You suspected it was directed at your guard who had been in the room as well, something you were sure she had planned. Your mother would get what she wanted after all.

“Princess,” You heard from behind you. Your heart lifted instantly.

“Sit,” You insisted, patting the seat next to you. The Hound’s eyes scanned the room and you rolled yours. “It’s not unheard of. You’re supposed to be guarding me, you can guard me from down here.”

“You’re drunk,” He noted as he sat next to you. You felt the bench creek under his large body. You wished that you were alone so he could pull you into his lap. You were so tired of not even being able to hold his hand.

“I might be,” you said.

“You are.” He grabbed a pint for himself, taking it halfway down with one solid gulp. “Celebrating your engagement, Princess?”

“Stop it,” you said with a tight jaw. “You know I’d rather-,”

“Be quiet about that,” The Hound said, his eyes darting around the room once again. A few eyes were on you, but they were passing glances, folks wondering why the Princess was off alone, but you knew they were not going to question your choice of company.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “But you can’t be upset with me, I can’t take that along with everything else. It’s not my fault.”

The Hound made a noise half way between a grunt and a sigh, but still didn’t look at you. “I know,” he said.

Your hand found his knee comfortingly under the table. It was probably the wine in your stomach that made you unafraid of any consequences. You were surprised he didn’t pull away, but he let you leave your hand there. You were feeling sad and stupid. You moved your hand up further, touching the inside of his thigh. The growl from his throat didn’t stop you. So long without touching him for fear of being caught and here you were now with your hand in his lap when the dining hall was full of eyes.

“Princess,” he said through clenched teeth. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He was trying not to draw attention. Just drunk enough not to care, you moved your hand even further. His breath came out as a hiss as you palmed the growing bulge in his pants. His massive hand clamped around your wrist.

“No one is even looking,” you said, not really caring if they were.

“Are you trying to lose me my head?” He asked. You noticed that he hadn’t moved your hand away from him. You squeezed him, making him groan. “Fucking hells,” he muttered, placing both hands on the table. He wasn’t going to stop you.

You made sure you weren’t looking directly at him as you stroked your hand up and down his length through his pants. You watched his hand on the table clench into a fist as he tried to keep a straight face. “It’s a lovely feast, isn’t it?” You asked, a wicked smirk playing at your lips. He merely grunted. The wine and the thrill of touching him once again made you forget for a moment the pressure you had felt since the news of your engagement.

“But I do think I have had a bit too much to drink,” You said, loudly enough for anyone at the tables near you to hear. Luckily, they were drunker than you. “Walk me back to my room, please.”

The Hound rose first, helping you balance yourself. You really did have a bit too much to drink. He let you go as soon as he thought you would be able to stand. You looked over your shoulder for just a moment, catching a glance at your mother. She sipped her wine next to your father, who was probably the drunkest one in the room. No one would say anything to the King about his drinking. Your mother caught your look but said nothing. She knew who your father would believe if you went to him with what you knew.

The Hound walked a few steps behind you as you walked out of the hall. The voices from the dining hall carried out into the corridor. As soon as you turned the corner, far enough away from the crowd, his hands were on you. You giggled drunkenly as he scooped you up.

“You’re going to get me in trouble, Princess,” he said into your neck, placing a sloppy kiss on the column of your throat. He shouldered the nearest door open. You should have been more worried about getting caught but the only thoughts swimming through the alcohol in your brain were about the Hound’s mouth.

The room was empty and almost pitch black, the only light coming from the full moon outside. The Hound sat you down on the plush loveseat pushed against the wall. You grabbed his belt, attempting to pull him towards you and finish what you had started in the dining hall but it appeared he had other plans. He pushed your hand away.

“Your turn, Princess.”

He lowered himself to his knees in front of you, giving you a breathless kiss, his massive hand cupping your cheek. Leaving your head spinning, he pulled away. He shoved your skirt up, gathering it at your thighs. He pulled you down to the edge of the seat, spreading your legs before him. He placed your legs over his broad shoulders, the metal of his armor cool on your flushed skin. From the wine or from him, you couldn’t be entirely sure.

He bit the inside of your thigh, placing a kiss over it just as quickly. You were just about to tell him not to tease you when you felt his tongue at your apex. Your hands went to his hair, your head going back against the love seat. It had been so long since he could have you like this, he lapped at your pussy hungrily, his fingers digging into your thighs in a way you knew would leave a bruise. That made it even sweeter.

“Sandor, please,” You begged, tugging at his hair, trying to pull him up to kiss you again. You weren’t sure how much time you had with him and you wanted to feel all of him before you had to part. Normally, he would tell you he was going to take his bloody time, but he was probably thinking the same as you.

The Hound wrapped his arm around your waist, moving you to lay with your head on the armrest of the loveseat, his body looming over you. He was always afraid to put his whole weight on you, but you liked feeling his presence. You helped him pull himself out of his pants and with one quick thrust, he was fully seated inside of you. He paused for a moment, his face in the crook of your neck. You guided his face back to yours, kissing him. You wrapped your legs around him, making sure he was as close as he could be to you. He rutted into you, each thrust punctuated with a grunt. He kissed your neck, your cheek, your collarbone, your mouth, any bit of you he could. His thumb found its way to your clit, finishing what his tongue had started. Your legs squeezed him tighter. You tried to stay quiet, but his free hand still went over your mouth, muffling the cry as you came, your legs tight around him.

He took his hand from your mouth, placing it on the loveseat next to you to brace himself. His other hand moved to the small of your back, pushing you closer to him as he fucked you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him in to whisper in his ear, “Cum in me.”

The hand on your back moved to your outer thigh, squeezing tight as he shuddered, finishing into you with a final grunt. He hid his face in your neck, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine.

“Stupid, that was stupid,” The Hound muttered into your skin.

You pulled his face towards you, making sure his eyes met yours. “I love you,” you said firmly. His eyes darted away again. You had said it only once before to him. He never said it back, it wasn’t his way.

Instead, he kissed you and responded, “Aye.”

[waitimcomingtoo]

Trial Failure

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader enemies to lovers!

Read the series or on its own

Masterlist

You were sitting in your car a few months later, sending Peter a text telling him to be safe on patrol. Before you could get out of you car, you heard a knock at your window. You jumped and looked up to see Spiderman standing outside your car with his hands on his hips.

“Ma’am, I’m gonna need you to step out of the vehicle.” Peter said as he rested his hands on an invisible belt.

“What did I do, officer?” You played along.

“It says here that you don’t have a permit for being that pretty.” Peter replied.

“Aw.” You chuckled a little. “You’re such a loser.”

“Shut up.” He laughed. “It’s dark already. Let me walk you home.”

“In the suit?” You asked as you got out of the car. “I feel so fancy.”

“Only the best for my lady.” He said as he took your hand. “It’s so creepy in here. I wish your parking lot wasn’t so far from the actual building.”

“Me either.” You shrugged. “But at least I have a parking lot. May still has to park on the street. She and I complain about it a lot when you’re not around.”

“Well I would also have my license if I wasn’t so busy, you know, saving New York or whatever.” Peter shrugged.

“Shut up.” You laughed as you leaned into him. You slipped your hand into his gloved one and fell into a comfortable silence.

When you passed by the bodega near your apartment, you caught the attention of a man sleeping outside.

“Hey.” He chuckled and pointed at Peter. “You’re that spider guy.”

“You can call me Spiderman.” Peter said kindly.

“Okay Spiderman. And who’s this?” His attention shifted to you. “Spider-Man has a girlfriend?”

“No.” Peter said quickly and dropped your hand. “We just met. I’m just doing my duty and walking her home.”

The man didn’t take his eyes off of you, which made you step closer to Peter.

“Yeah?” The man asked. “And where’s that?”

“Nowhere.” You answered. “Don’t worry about it.”

“All right.” The man narrowed his eyes at you. “I hope I’ll be seeing you again, beautiful.”

“You won’t.” Peter said, trying to keep his tone neutral. “Have a nice night, sir.”

Peter put his hand on your back and quickly lead you away. He stayed silent until you got to your apartment building, the tension between you palpable.

“I shouldn’t come in.” Peter said. “Not while I’m in the suit. People shouldn’t see Spiderman going into your apartment.”

“No ones around.” You chuckled to break the tension. “I think it’s fine.”

“I can’t.” Peter shook his head. “Your neighbor could see me or the cameras could pick me up or-“

“Hey.” You cut him off with a smile. “It’s okay. You don’t have to come up. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay.” Peter sighed sadly, hating to have to leave you without a kiss goodnight. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Once Peter had swung away, you blew him a kiss when you knew no one could see. You went inside and didn’t give the night another thought. Elsewhere, Peter was torn up over what had happened. The way the man had been looking at you was shaking him up. He let it go for the time being, but it stayed with him in the back of his mind.

~

The next night, you were making the ten minute walk from your apartment to Peter’s. You put your keys between your fingers and kept your head straight as you walked. When you passed the bodega near your apartment, the man from the night before noticed you.

“Hey, aren’t you Spider-Man’s girlfriend?” He asked with a wicked grin. You ignored him and kept walking, picking up your pace as he followed.

“You are, aren’t you?” He continued when you didn’t respond.

“No.” You said flatly.

“Yes you are.” He cooed. “You’re pretty.”

You ignored him and sharply turned a corner, but he followed.

“Hey!” He called after you. “Don’t I get a thank you?”

“No.” You called back. “You don’t.”

“You know.” He seized your arm suddenly, making you stop. “I don’t like Spiderman that much. He webbed up my buddy and got him sent to jail.”

“Aw. Poor you.” You said as you pulled yourself out of his grip.

“No, pretty girl.” He shook his head. “Poor you.”

You watched his hand disappear into his pocket and soon heard the click of switch blade.

“What are you doing?” You asked as you backed away from him.

“He took my buddy from me. I wanna take something from him.” The man growled as he held the knife up to your throat. Your back hit the wall as you craned your neck away from his blade. You could feel the sharp blade against your throat and felt a cold panic run down your spine.

“Wait, please.” You gulped as your hand went into your pocket. “Don’t hurt me. I have a baby sister at home. She needs me.”

“Aw.” He said sarcastically. “Do you?”

“I do.” You nodded and pulled something out of your pocket. “She needs me to take care of her. I’ll show you.”

Instead of pulling out a picture, you pulled out your pepper spray and sprayed it in his eyes. He backed away screaming and you took this opportunity to punch him in the throat. He doubled over in pain, so you swiftly kicked him in the stomach and took off. You didn’t stop running until you reached Peter’s apartment, never once looking back. Once you were in his room, Peter caught sight of your messy hair and the tiny red line on your neck and immediately panicked.

“Woah, are you okay?” He cupped your face so you’d look at him. “What happened to you?”

“I’m fine.” You huffed and dropped your bag. “It was that stupid guy from last night.”

“What guy?” Peter asked as he fumbled through his desk for a bandaid.

“The one we passed by the bodega. I saw him again.” You explained as Peter’s shaking hand out a bandaid in your neck.

“What happened?” Peter asked. “Did he hurt you?”

“No. I had my pepper spray on me.” You told him.

“Did he try to hurt you?”

“I mean, I guess.” You shrugged. “I think he just liked that I was your girlfriend. Apparently he’s not much of a Spiderman fan.”

Peter withdrew his hands from you when he heard this as if he was scared to hurt you further.

“He attacked you because of me?” He asked quietly.

“No. He tried to attack me because of you. Pepper spray, remember?” You cracked a smile, but Peter didn’t return it.

“Peter, I handled it. It’s fine.” You put your hands on his face when you noticed how scared he looked.

“He…he shouldn’t have done that.” Peter stammered. “You didn’t do anything. He had no reason to go after you.”

He pulled away from you again and ran his fingers through his hair. He was deeply distraught over this, even though you were okay. You reached out for Peter again but he swatted your hand away.

“Peter, it’s okay.” You said quietly. “I’m okay. Nothing happened.”

“Nothing compared to what could have happened.” He corrected you.

“Look, I was really scared back there. I understand if you’re scared too, but I’m on your side here.” You said softly. “You can’t pull away from me right now. I need you. I need my boyfriend to tell me it’s okay.”

Peter’s face softened when you showed a rare sign of vulnerability. He slowly opened his arms to you and you stepped into them. Peter wrapped his arms around your body and rubbed your back and you took a deep inhale.

“I love you.” He said before kissing the top of your head. “It’s okay. You’re safe now. I got you, princess.”

“I love you too.” You mumbled against his chest.

Peter looked up at the ceiling to keep tears from falling down his face as he held you. He let out a deep sigh as he rubbed your back, silently thinking about the effect this would have on his future.

Especially his future with you.

~

“Some guy attacked Y/n because he saw her with Spider-man the night before.” Peter said as he set his lunch down. Ned stopped eating and let his jaw drop.

“Are you serious?” He said with a full mouth.

“Yeah. I put one of his friends in jail so he went after her. She had nothing to do with it but he still targeted her. Because of me, Ned. It’s my fault he went after her.” Peter sighed and rubbed his face.

“Dude, it’s not your fault.” Ned said. “You didn’t know he was gonna do that.”

“But now I do.” Peter stated. “And it’s only gonna get worse from here. I mean, you’ve seen the guys that have gone after Mr. Stark and Pepper. What if some guy tries to hurt Y/n to get to me? Someone a lot worse then some hobo with a switchblade.”

“You don’t know that will happen.”

“But I know that it could if I continue to date her.” Peter sighed again. Ned furrowed his eyebrows when he heard this, jumping to the conclusions of what that could mean.

“What are you gonna do?”

“I don’t think there’s anything else I can do.” Peter said quietly. “I think I have to break up with her.”

“Are you sure about that?” Ned leaned forward to ask.

“How else am I supposed to keep her safe?” Peter’s bottom lip began to tremble. “As long as she’s my girlfriend, she has a target on her back. I can’t knowingly put her in danger like that.”

“But, Peter. You love her. And she loves you. You can’t just end it.” Ned countered.

“I have to end it because I love her.” Peter explained. “I have to love her enough to put her safety over my happiness.”

“She’s gonna hate you.” Ned shook his head. “You know her.”

“Maybe not. Maybe she’ll understand.” Peter said hopefully.

“I don’t know, man.” Ned sighed. “I think you found something really good here. I don’t think you should mess it up.”

“But if she got hurt because of me...” Peter trailed off. “I’d never forgive myself. I can’t risk it.”

“I’ll support you either way.” Ned said. “But only if you stay with her.”

“That’s not really supporting me either way.”

“Yeah. Because I think your way is really dumb.” Ned deadpanned.

“It’s not dumb. She could’ve been killed.” Peter protested.

“Do you honestly think she’ll let you break up with her over this?” Ned asked. “Shes gonna tell you that you’re ridiculous and she can protect herself.”

“Then I won’t tell her my reasoning.” Peter decided. “I love her but she’s stubborn as hell. Especially with me. If that reason isn’t good enough for her then she won’t get a reason at all.”

“Peter, that’s even worse.” Ned whined. “There’s no coming back from that. You know how much she values communication. That will crush her.”

“I’d rather her have a broken heart then be killed.” Peter said simply. “She’ll hate me for a while, sure, but at least she’ll be safe.”

“I don’t know about this.” Ned frowned. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

Before Peter could answer, you sat down at the lunch table with a smile. Peter gave Ned a look that told him to cease all conversation of the breakup, which made Ned look away.

“Hey guys.” You smiled. “What’s going on over here? You both look so sad. Did you break up or something?”

Peter and Ned froze at your joke, giving each other a knowing look. You looked between the two of them and noticed the icy tension.

“Woah.” You laughed awkwardly. “I was kidding. Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine.” Peter lied as he kept his eyes on Ned. Ned stayed silent, knowing he couldn’t lie to you.

“Okay.” You said skeptically. “Are we still gonna hang out after school, Petey?”

“Yeah.” Peter gave you a tight smile. “We can talk after school.”

Ned let out a sad laugh before looking at Peter. He silently picked up his backpack and left the table, not wanting to be a part of Peter breaking your heart.

“What was that all about?” You asked once Ned left.

“I don’t know.” Peter said without looking at you. The guilt was already eating away at him and he hadn’t even broken up with you yet. You changed the subject and started to talk about something else, but Peter barely heard. He felt sick to his stomach, knowing he was acting like everything was fine when he had every intention of breaking up with you. When the bell rang, Peter snapped out of it and looked at you longingly. You gave him a small smile, having no idea what was coming. It broke Peter’s heart to know this was the last time you’d be happy while looking at him. Peter leaned in to kiss you, letting it linger much longer than usual. He figured it would be your last kiss, and he wanted to make it last. When he pulled away, you had confusion in your eyes.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You asked. “That felt like a goodbye kiss.”

“I’m okay.” Peter nodded. “I’ll see you later.”

Peter avoided you the best he could for the rest of the day. Once the last bell rang, he bolted out of school with stopping at his locker. He had felt sick all day because of his decision. He was so wrapped up in his guilt, he didn’t even hear you knock at his door.

“Hey, Petey.” You smiled as you shut his bedroom door behind you. “I looked for you at the lockers but you weren’t there. Did you run home or something?”

Peter jumped when he heard your voice and whipped around, all the color draining from his face.

“Um. Yeah.” He stammered. “I did.”

You were quick to notice his off behavior and furrowed your eyebrows.

“What’s wrong?” You asked as you approached him. Peter took a single step back from you, so you didn’t move any closer.

“Um…I have to talk to you about something.” Peter said quietly as he stared at your feet.

“Okay.” You folded your arms. “Is everything okay?”

“I think…” Peter gulped and shut his eyes. “I think we should break up.”

“What?” You chuckled as you raised your eyebrow.

“I don’t think a relationship is right for me right now.” Peter lied, finally looking up at you. “I think I need to be on my own.”

“That’s not funny, Peter.” Your smile fell as glared at him.

“I’m being serious.” He said weakly. “I don’t want us to be together anymore.”

“Why?” You asked as your eyes glassed over. “What happened?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I was into it, and now I’m not. So I want to break up.”

“That’s all I get? “I don’t know?” We spend six months in love but all the sudden, you don’t know?” You asked as a tear fell from your eyes. Peter had to look away, knowing he wouldn’t be able to continue if he saw you cry.

“Look, I just changed my mind okay? It’s nothing personal.” He said as he looked at the ceiling.

“Really? Because it feels a little personal.”

“We can still be friends.” He offered. “We said we’d give this a try, and we did. It just didn’t work out.”

“So the trip to the graveyard, you telling me your secret, bringing me to meet your team, all the kisses in your bedroom and the sex in mine, was all of that it not working out for you?” You asked him.

“No.” He swore. “That’s not...this isn’t about that.”

“How am I supposed to believe that?” You raised your voice. “Did you just use me for sex? Is that all this was? Some twisted way to get into my pants?”

“No.” Peter shook his head rapidly. “I loved you, I just-“

“Loved?” You cut him off and laughed sadly. Peter watched as you wiped the tears from your face with a broken heart.

“I’m sorry.” He said sincerely. “I wish I had something better to tell you. But my mind is made up. We can’t be together.”

“What did I do?” You whispered through your tears.

“Nothing. You didn’t do anything.” Peter promised as he took a step towards you, needing to hold you. This time, you were the one who backed away.

“Then why don’t you want me?” Your voice trembled as you struggled to look at him. Peter let out a ragged breath, shaking his head to try and convey that he didn’t mean anything he was saying.

“I��I don’t know.” He croaked. “I just don’t.”

“How do you not know?” You yelled tearfully.

“I just don’t. I’m sorry. I didn’t know my feelings would change.”

“But how could they change so fast? All those things you said to me, “That’s the only pain I’ll ever put you in”. ,you mimicked his voice, “Was all that just bullshit?”

“No.” He stated. “I meant it when I said that.”

“And I believed you. God, how could I be so stupid?” You cried.

“You’re not stupid.” Peter began to cry as well. “You’re just not what I want.”

“Not what you want?” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you repeated his words.

“I just don’t want to be in a relationship right now. Can you please try to understand that?” He begged, trying to salvage any sort of relationship with you that he could.

“No. Fuck you. I hate you.” You whimpered.

“You don’t mean that.” Peter said as he stepped closer to you.

“Yes I do. I never should’ve given you a chance. I fucking hate you, Peter Parker.” You cried as you hit his chest. “I wish we never met.”

“Please, don’t leave.” Peter pleaded as you grabbed your bag. “We can still be friends.”

“I don’t want to be your friend. I don’t want anything to do with you.” You sniffled as you went for the door. At this point, Peter was deeply regretting his decision. He knew he should have told you how he was feeling instead of acting irrationally.

“Wait. I think I made a mistake.” His hands began to tremble as a panic ran down his spine.

“No, I did.” You told him. “The mistake was believing you when you told me you loved me.”

“I do love you.” Peter said weakly.

“Then why are you breaking me?” You yelled at him. You and Peter fell into a defeating silence, both standing there with tears falling. You looked down at your feet and wiped your face, sucking in a sharp breath before speaking.

“You said you’d never break my heart.” You said quietly. You slowly looked up at Peter and sized him up and down with your eyes. In that moment, he was no longer the boy you grew to love. He had reverted back to being your enemy, and so you had just one word for him.

“Liar.”

With that, you turned around and left his apartment. Your word suck into Peter like venom and he felt physically ill. He stumbled back and fell down on his bed, his full emotions finally being felt. Peter put his hand over his mouth and cried so hard that he began to dry heave. He was realizing much too late that Ned had been right. With the way Peter was feeling, he knew he had not made the right decision. He just chased his first love away in a mess of tears and shards of a broken heart.

~

You ignored the calls and texts from Peter for the following week. He didn’t want to bombard you, so he sent his usual good morning and goodnight texts with a little “please talk to me” at the end. After three days of tearing up whenever his name popped up on your screen, you blocked his number.

May let you in one night when he was on patrol so you could collect your things. You grabbed the shirts and underwear you kept in his drawer from all the times you “accidentally” slept over. You took your chapstick on his bed table, hairbrush on his dresser, and the toothbrush you kept in his bathroom. You held the box of your things against your hip and looked around his room. He had your project, the one that initially brought the two of you together, framed on his wall. You looked down at the ground, feeling like you might break if you looked at it, and left his room.

“Did you get everything?” May asked when you came back into the kitchen.

“I think so.” You said quietly, not trusting your voice not to break.

“I don’t understand him sometimes.” She frowned. “He loved you so much. I can’t understand why he’d do this.”

“Yeah.” You smiled tightly. “I can’t either.”

“Come here.” May opened her arms to you and you stepped into them. She blew cold air on your neck as you cried against her shoulder.

“He’s the smartest guy I know.” She said as she rubbed your back. “But he’s also incredibly stupid.”

“I know.” You laughed through your tears.

“He’ll come around.” She cupped your face and wiped your tears with her thumbs. “I can tell that he already regrets it. Give him a few days and he’ll be begging at your feet for forgiveness.”

“Maybe.” You smiled sadly. “Thanks for letting me in. I should go before he comes back.”

“Wait. Before you go.” May said as she took a bottle of body spray out of your box. She took your hand and lead you to Peter’s room, where she sprayed the body spray into the air.

“There.” She smiled. “That’ll torture him when he gets back. He’ll think he’s being haunted by you.”

“May.” You laughed at her ingenious. “That’s so mean.”

“He was meaner.” She shrugged. “I’ll see you soon, Y/n.”

You said goodbye to May and went to your next stop. This one being the Avengers tower. Tony put your face in the facial recognition system, so you had no trouble getting in. You got most of your things from Peter’s room, but took a page out of May’s book and left something on purpose. After collecting the rest of your things, you went into the kitchen. You slammed the box on the table and let out a loud sigh. An equally distraught sigh coming from behind the box made you jump out of your skin. You moved the box to the side and lo and behold, Bucky was sitting at the table scribbling in a small black notebook.

“Oh, sorry.” You blinked a few times to gather yourself. “I was just collecting my things. I didn’t think anyone would be here.”

“I’m not usually here.” He said without looking up. “But I’m making amends and Stark is on my list.”

“Amends?” You asked curiously as you fixed your hair. Bucky put the notebook down and looked up at you, his piercing gaze sending a chill down your spine.

“I’ve done some bad things.” He said simply. You gulped and looked him up and down, which he noticed. You weren’t really thinking straight when you walked over to him and ran your fingers through his messy hair.

“Wanna do some more?” You said slowly. Bucky moved away from your hand and gave you a strange look.

“What?” He asked you.

“I like doing bad things too.” You shrugged as you played with his jacket. “And I like having bad things done to me. If you’d like, I could show you.”

“Aren’t you dating the spider kid?”

“Nope.” You popped the p. “Not anymore. I’m free to do whoever, sorry, whatever I want.”

“How old are you?” Bucky narrowed his eyes at you.

“Old enough.” You cracked a smile and traced your fingernail down his face.

“So am I.” He said as he caught your hand. “Old enough to be a fossil. You don’t want anything to do with me.”

“Says who?” You pouted as you put your knee between his legs. You were leaning over him now, giving him no choice but to look at you.

“Says me. Goodnight.” Bucky got out of his chair and brushed past you.

“Wait.” You said, and he stopped.

“What?”

You walked up to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, drumming your fingers on his back.

“I’m 18, I’m hot, and I’m really fucking horny.” You told him. “Why don’t you stay a while?”

“I was 18 almost 90 years ago.” He replied. “You’re a child. It would be really wrong.”

“But it would feel really, really good.” You whispered. Bucky stared at you for a long time as he contemplated it.

“You don’t want to do this.” He said finally.

“Yes I do.” You insisted. “I always have. Why don’t you show me what this arm does?”

“You don’t want me.” He repeated. “You want me to take your pain away. And you want to do it in a way that would hurt Peter the most. Am I right?”

You slowly took your arms away from him as you realized he just read you to filth.

“How did you know that?” You wondered.

“I go to therapy.” He shrugged. “A lot of therapy.”

You fully withdrew yourself from him now, feeling slightly embarrassed for coming on to him. Bucky could see that you had taken your guard down and relaxed as well.

“Thanks.” You said sheepishly as you adverted your eyes.

“For what?” He wondered.

“For being a good guy and not taking advantage of a sad girl.” You gave him a sad smile. Bucky cracked an awkward smile back at you, like it was something he wasn’t used to doing.

“I’m not normally described as a good guy.” He told you.

“You’re making amends right?” You gestured to the notebook. “Every one you make is another step towards being a better guy. It may not feel like it yet, but you’ll get there.”

“I guess you’re right.” He nodded a little, like he was too shy to fully agree with you. You smiled kindly at him, feeling like he could use a little tenderness.

“Have a goodnight, James.” You said as you picked up your box of belongings.

“Night.” He nodded at you before you left the room.

You took your things back to your apartment and went straight to sleep. Bucky had managed to relieve some of your pain, even if it was just a little. Ever since the breakup, you’ve been cursing the very existence of men. If someone as kind and innocent as Peter could break your heart, you weren’t sure there was any man out there you could trust. But after your brief conversation with Bucky, your hope was restored.

Meanwhile, Peter was making an opposite discovery. After patrol, he went back to his room and immediately spelled your scent. His eyes glassed over as you looked around, noticing all your missing items. He suddenly got a message from FRIDAY that someone had been in his room at the tower. He swung to the tower as fast as he could, but he got held up stopping some bad guys. By the time he finally made it there, you were gone.

“Damn it.” Peter smacked his dresser as he looked around his empty room. “FRIDAY, did Y/n come in here?”

“Yes.” FRIDAY answered. Peter looked in his drawers and bathroom and just as he expected, all of your things were gone. He sat down on his bed and defeat and rubbed his face.

“If she took all her things back, she’s done with me.” Peter mumbled as a tear rolled down his eye.

“Maybe not.” FRIDAY replied.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re sitting on something.” FRIDAY said, making Peter move. Underneath himself, he found the t shirt of yours that he had been sleeping with. There was no way you wouldn’t have recognized it, and it had been left out in the open. Peter held the shirt to his nose and took a whiff, inhaling your scent once again. A glimmer of hope sparked inside him with the discovery of the shirt. If you left it on purpose, maybe there was still a chance for the two of you.

“FRIDAY, where did Y/n go once she left my room?” Peter wondered. Maybe he could still catch up to you.

“The kitchen.” FRIDAY answered.

“In the kitchen?” Peter asked. “Why would she be in there?”

“You can see for yourself.” FRIDAY said as he projected the security footage onto Peter’s wall. Peter looked up to see you and Bucky in the kitchen, having a conversation. He couldn’t hear the audio, but he could see you playing with his hair and flirting with him. Peter dropped the shirt as a white hot jealousy ran through him.

“Turn it off, FRIDAY.” Peter swallowed angrily. “I’ve seen enough.”

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[biisexualemma]

unrequited pt.2. peter parker

word count: 3.6k

warnings: anxiety, panic attack? i guess kind of

requested: yea a few people asked for this lol

plot: you haven’t seen peter for weeks and start to worry about him

a/n: i finished re-writing this late last night and i’ll be honest with you i haven’t checked it over so sorry if there are any mistakes but i’m tired sis goodnight! lmk if you like this! pls comment / share!

pt.1 / marvel masterlist / multi-fandom masterlist

"ned... you're so wrong for so many reasons," m.j.'s expression was flat, her eyes rolling before she continued to fight ned on who was really the strongest avenger. you were supposed to be working on a group project for your history class but somehow the topic of the avengers came up and the conversation derailed. ned was making a, somewhat, compelling case for the hulk but m.j. was clearly winning with her argument for wanda.

"nobody even knows the full extent of her powers... and the hulk? what? he's gonna smash some more?"

you sat quietly, chin in the palm of your hand, listening in and out of the conversation. you didn't really feel much like contributing. you would occasionally chime in to support m.j. but mostly you just heard the noise of their bickering and let it happen.

you didn't want to be that person, but your mind was (much to your frustration) completely consumed with thoughts of peter. and at the worst time, you had so many tests coming up, and essay deadlines were also creeping up on you. usually you were on top of this stuff, but your mind was preoccupied almost all the time.

because of peter, who was no where to be seen. in the past few weeks he had stopped showing up to school all together. ned said it was something to do with tony stark but you had a feeling it was more than that. you didn't know how to explain it.

you hadn't spoken to him in a long time now, and you didn't exactly leave things on good terms. it was the longest you'd gone without talking since peter called you a poopy head in the third grade.

you just couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. especially since you had no idea what he was getting up to, peter was known to get himself into some messes when he was left to his own devices. and you just knew ned was lying to cover for his best friend but that only made you feel even more out of the loop.

everything felt a bit off without peter around, like something was missing. that, on top of the guilt and worry you were feeling, was turning your head to mush. last time you'd spoken to peter, he was erratic and wounded and desperate. something bad had to have happened for him to be gone this long.

the bell rang, signalling the end of your last period for the day, and the rest of the week seeing as it was a friday. you snapped out of your daze, jolting as your eyes focused back on your surroundings.

"what time did you say again, y/n?" your eyes drifted to m.j. who was collecting her notes on her desk, her eyes meetings yours, waiting for your answer. a crease formed between your eyebrows, you hadn't heard a word of the conversation before right now. m.j. seemed to realise this, rolling her eyes at you with a playful smile. you did this a lot lately, she was getting used to it. "homecoming? what time did you want to meet tonight?"

"oh," you nodded, still sitting at your desk as your classmates hustled around you. "right, homecoming— i— uh—"

"tell me you're still coming," ned interrupted, his eyes wide suddenly, clearly desperate that your answer was anything but no. "c'mon we've had this planned for ages!"

"no— yeah— of course i am," you nodded quickly to reassure him. "yeah— sorry— i just spaced. is seven good for you guys?"

they hummed in response, nodding.

you packed up your books, shoving them into your bag, still in a slight haze with all these thoughts running through your head about peter. you couldn't think about homecoming, it seemed trivial now compared to the worst case scenarios running through your mind. maybe you could try to call peter again? you thought to yourself as you quickly left the classroom, forgetting about m.j. and ned and homecoming, your muscle memory alone leading you to your locker.

you swapped out your books from your bag with the ones you needed to study from for your biology test next week. after slamming the locker door shut, a familiar face was met with yours.

"jesus," you muttered as he stood inches away from your face, your heart racing from the shock. clutching your books to your chest, after nearly having a heart attack, you let out a loud sigh and furrowed your eyebrows. "peter? where the hell have you been?" you regained some of your composure, enough to find some anger in you towards him. he was the last person you were expecting to see today.

"you're ok?" his usual soft brown eyes looked sunken and tired, his hair was scruffier than usual and his lips chapped as they hung open, his eyes scanning over you.

your mouth hung open to speak but he just shook his head as if answering his own question. he gripped your forearm, urging you to walk with him. you dug in your heels, yanking your arm back, wanting him to slow down and explain before you went anywhere with him. "will you just walk," he muttered sharply when you tried to resist him. "please," he softened quickly, his eyes meeting yours.

you frowned, uncomfortably shifting the stack of books in your arms as peter pulled you along behind him hastily. you watched his eyes shifting about the hallway as students weaved around the two of you, his grip not loosening for a second. he was definitely up to something stupid and dangerous that he absolutely should not be involved in.

he'd dragged you all the way out into the parking lot, pulling you aside and away from the crowd of people.

"what's going on? why do you look like— i mean no offence but— you look like crap," you couldn't help but show some level of concern. no matter how complicated your feelings were for him at the moment, he was still your best friend, and he looked like hell. you couldn't stop yourself from staring at him.

"i need you to just— stop talking and listen to me," the look in his eyes made your heart beat a bit faster, your eyes darting between his trying to understand his urgency. "you're not safe—"

"no— i'm fine—" you were never very good at doing what you were told. you glanced down at yourself, perfectly safe and standing in front of him. "see?—"

"no— no you're not," he gulped, his eyes darting away from yours for a split second. "i'm taking you home and you have to stay there. ok? please."

his voice was horse, cracking when he spoke. you didn't understand any of it. peter was the friendly neighbourhood spider-man, what the hell had he gotten himself into that had him this worked up?

you tilted your head slightly, he couldn't think you'd blindly do whatever he said. you needed some answers. "pete," you mumbled, shaking your head with a faint frown. "can't you just tell me what's going on? you're kinda' scaring me."

"i screwed up," his face contorted, his eyes screwing shut for a second and his nose scrunching. you were glued to him, following his mixed expressions trying to understand what was going through his head. he took a deep, shaky breath, running a hand through his hair. "and i know you— you hate me and the last thing you wanna' do is listen to me but i need you to do this for me."

"alright," you said after a moments hesitation. you just wanted him to relax. all your pent up anger and hurt that you'd felt over peter had dissipated quite quickly. you were too occupied with trying to ease some of his stress, and if that meant becoming a homebody for a few days, you would do it. "alright— don't worry. i've been putting off my english essay for a week now anyway, it's about time i cracked down on it."

you tried to ease the tension, act like he wasn't asking much of you. he let out a heavy sigh, looking over at you with those brown eyes. "it's homecoming tonight, i know w—"

"is it?" you feigned forgetfulness, not wanting to make him feel any worse than he already did. you shrugged. "i was never one for socialising anyway."

peter knew you better than that. he knew what he was asking you to give up. "i'm sorry," he took a step closer to you, his hands hovering in front of you, unsure that you wanted him to touch you. "i'm sorry you got dragged into this."

your eyes lingered on his hands before you pulled back up to his stare. you pursed your lips and shrugged. "i'd feel better about it if i knew what i was getting dragged into," you pulled away from your conversation for a second to slip your books into your bag. "walk me home and you can explain everything."

and he did. he told you all about the vulture, the weapons, what really happened during the decathlon trip. all of it. right up to when the vulture figured out his identity— which lead to him finding out about aunt may, about his friends, and about you. he told you about how he'd spent the past few weeks figuring out where the vulture's next major deal was being held, how he'd messed up so bad and how mr stark had taken his suit.

by the time he'd finished, your mouth hung open slightly. you didn't know how he'd been dealing with all of this by himself. spider-man helped old ladies cross the street and returned stolen bicycles, he didn't fight men in bird costumes to stop illegal sales of dangerous advanced weapon tech.

"peter, this sounds pretty dangerous," you spoke up after he told you about his plan to intercept the vulture's airplane heist. "don't you think you should just call happy? or tony? this sounds like iron man territory."

"i can't do that," he sighed. "besides, i already tried happy— he's not taking my calls right now. something about a time out."

you let out a heavy sigh, having taken everything in that he'd told you. you had reached your door, peter standing behind you with his hands stuffed in his pockets. you motioned for him to come in but he hesitated, opening his mouth to decline. "c'mon," you grabbed his arm and tugged gently. "this heist isn't happening 'til late tonight. you can keep me company 'til then."

"maybe, get some rest, too, you really do look like hell," he let you pull him inside, following behind you. he ignored the second dig you had now made about his appearance.

"may must've been pretty mad when she found out you'd been skipping school?" you collapsed onto your bed, crossing your legs over and watching peter perch himself on the edge of your bed. he leaned forward, his hand running over his face with sheer exhaustion.

"you have no idea," he groaned, holding his head up with the palm of his hand now. "i'm pretty much grounded for the rest of the year. and i have to send her a pic' of me sitting in every one of my classes from now on," you nodded, pursing your lips because that sounded about right. "but mainly she was worried."

"well, she wasn't the only one," he glanced at you over his shoulder, his eyes lingering there for a while. you breathed through your nose, looking away from him and down to your hands to give yourself a moment. you'd forgotten how difficult it was to have him look at you like that. "you just took off with no word, peter."

he turned his gaze away from you, focusing on the wall in front of him, his eyes glossy. for weeks that last conversation with you had been sitting at the back of his mind. he knew he'd handled everything in the worse possible way. he tried to protect you, hurt you by doing so, and then had everything he tried to protect you from blow up in his face anyway.

"i haven't been able to think clearly for weeks," you gulped, scared to meet his gaze again, in fear that you might lose your confidence. "i missed you. and i was worried out of my mind about you."

"y/n—" his voice was quiet.

"and i know i was the one who told you to leave. but i was hurt and sad. i'd convinced myself that you felt the same way, and when you—" you closed your eyes for a second, feeling him watching you. you hadn't been able to say any of this out loud for weeks and now it was just spilling out of you. "anyway— i shouldn't've punished you for that. they are my feelings i need to get over. it wasn't your fault and i'm sorry i made it seem like it was."

he shook his head faintly, sniffling slightly, catching your attention. "i screwed up," he shook his head a little harder, pushing himself up off your bed, his back turned to you. "i screwed up so bad," he ran his hand over his face, his thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose. your eyebrows knitted. "it wasn't supposed to turn out like this."

"don't," you shook your head, willing him to stop. "it's not your fault. i shouldn't have—"

he cut you off, turning to face you as he did. "i'm in love with you," his mouth hung open slightly, his eyes now stinging red. "i was in love with you then, and i'm in love with you now. i think i always will be."

your eyebrows unknitted, your mouth opening to speak but nothing came out. you watched his hand tug on the ends of his curls, his eyes locked onto you the entire time, trying to read your expression.

"i was trying to protect you and it went completely wrong—" his breathing was erratic. "i thought you'd be safer if i distanced myself—" the look on his face was breaking your heart. he knew how stupid it all sounded now he explained it out loud. "i screwed everything up— and now you're in more danger than ever— because of me."

"you— you—" your brain was trying to keep up. you shook your head. you had spent the past month telling yourself that everything you thought he'd felt for you wasn't real, that you'd over thought everything he'd ever done for you. you'd been telling yourself for a month to move on. "you didn't screw up, pete. i know you. whatever you did, you did for the right reasons."

the lump in your throat was growing as you tried to keep some kind of composure. it wouldn't do either of you any good to get upset with him when he was worked up like this. he didn't need to be told he'd made a mistake, he was already painfully aware.

"you don't— you—but— i—" he was hyperventilating, completely vulnerable as he fell apart in front of you.

"pete," you mumbled carefully, climbing over to where he was stood, hand in his hair and he pulled on the loose curls, his eyes wide with anxiety and stress. you moved your hands to his, pulling them down to his side and giving them a small squeeze. "calm down," you cooed. "everything will be ok."

you trailed your hands up to his shoulders, giving them a soft squeeze before pulling him into a tight hug. you wrapped your arms 'round his shoulders, one hand moving to the back of his head, running your fingers through his hair. his head ducked, burying into your neck, his arms wrapping around your waist in a desperate grip. his breathing was heavy at first, uneven and jagged as he clung onto you. your heart was beating out of your chest, you were sure he could hear it, but you held onto him as tight as you could, pressing your whole body against his trying to offer him as much comfort as you could.

after a while of standing around, holding each other, peter's breathing began to grow softer and slower. he began to notice the sweet scent lingering on your skin. his lips innocently hovering over the curve of your neck, breath fanning against your skin. you could feel goosebumps growing on your skin, the hair of your arms standing on end.

"better?" you mumbled softly. he gave you a faint nod in response, his lips leaving your skin as he pulled himself back from you. your hand slipped from in between his curls and down to the neck, your thumb brushing over his skin as he looked straight into your eyes. you gulped, eyelids fluttering.

he was a state to behold. his nose was pink, under eyes wet, your eyes trailed down to where his lips parted. he hiccuped a breath. you tried to push away the impulse to kiss him because he was clearly vulnerable. you didn't want him to later regret anything. "thanks," he mumbled breathlessly. "i don't know what happened there."

you pouted your lips, about to reply when peters eyes fluttered down your face, catching you off guard. his eyes lingered and you noticed his head tilting down and nearer, his lips catching onto yours before you could register what was happening. it was soft, gentle and didn't last longer than a couple seconds before you had to force yourself to pull away.

"peter— you're overwhelmed right now so maybe we shouldn—"

your whispers against his lips where cut short, he pressed his lips to yours again. unable to resist now he'd had a taste. his arms tightened around your waist, pulling you back flush against his chest. you swallowed a gasp, feeling his full weight behind the second kiss. his lips pushed against yours a little more desperately this time, you fell back a step, peter's arms where the only thing keeping you upright at this point.

both your hands where either side of his neck, trailing up into his hair where you pulled softly at the roots of his messy curls. he let out a soft moan against your lips, and you stumbled back once more, your thighs hitting your bed.

your hands quickly slipped down to his chest as you gently pried him off you. your head was spinning a little, his lips were plump and pink and the way he looked at you, with pure love and obsession, made you want to kiss him again and again.

"did you mean it?" you muttered breathlessly.

his eyes trailed back up from your lips, his gaze locking with yours again. he noticed the vulnerability and fear in your eyes now that he was paying you his full attention. he felt a wave of guilt hit him, knowing he was the one that put that look there.

"yeah," he hummed. "i did," he said with his chest. "i do. always will," he was breathless.

"you're not just saying it 'cause you've missed me?"

he shook his head quickly, shutting down any traces of doubt in your mind. "i have been in love with you since that summer we took that trip to coney island when you threw up after you ate too much cotton candy."

your scrunched up your nose at the memory. "gross."

he shrugged. "i don't know what to tell you. that's just when i knew."

your lips twitched into a small smile. "you should probably get some rest," you diverted the topic, trying hard not to kiss him again. he looked so tired. he had poured out months worth of anxiety and stress all in the past ten minutes. "you can't chase bad guys if you're half asleep."

he wore a half-hearted smile, his mind clearly flickering back to the task he had to take on later tonight.

"you can crash here if you want," you motioned to your bed.

"y'sure? i don't wanna get you in trouble."

"mom's working late, so you're good. plus she loves you, pete," your hands slipped down to his, giving them a quick squeeze of reassurance.

"sure she'll still love me when she finds out about us?" he quirked an eyebrow, the small smile on his lips was sloped and tired.

"m'sure," you hummed, biting back your growing smile at the word us. you moved him to sit on your bed again, his hands lazily holding yours. his eyelids fluttered as he looked up at you, a small crease forming between his eyebrows again. you could tell his mind was wandering again. "lie down, you need to rest or you're no good to anyone."

he nodded hesitantly and followed your instruction. "i'll sleep better with you next to me."

his voice was soft after you'd turned your back on him to leave him to rest. you rolled your eyes faintly, smile tugging your lips again. "is that right?"

he hummed, his arms outstretched, waiting for you to fall into them. you dragged your feet back over to him, biting the inside of your cheek, the corner of your lip twitching upwards. "there's a scientific reason behind it but my brain's too sleepy to think right now, so you'll have to take my word for it."

his words slurred together, his eyes rolling slightly the longer he forced them open. you just nodded. "alright, spidey, just this once."

"hm," he hummed as you climbed in next to him, his arms wrapping around you and immediately pulling you against his chest. "thanks," he muttered, his lips pressed against the top of your head. "don't know what i'd do without you."

[elius-learns-to-write]

Class Drama and Anger Issues

Hey besties this will contain swearing, violence, catcalling/ sexual harassment, blood and just horrible behaviour so please take care reading this, love you all <3

You had always been very protective of your friends

It wasn’t like you didn’t think they could stand up for themselves

You understood that 100%

However whenever anyone insulted them or talked bad about them you were the first person to throw hands

You were sure that your jaw had locked from how long you had been tensing it. You see, being sat at the back of the classroom was great, you could see everyone and hear everyone. Which means that whenever someone decided to bitch and moan about the people in the little group you had managed to join, that you would be the first person to hear it. Like right now for example, Liz and Peter had broken up a few days ago and she didn’t take it so well and had taken up talking about him behind his back. Which had led us to this: you at the back of the room, fists and jaw clenched in an effort to not walk over to her and her little friends and wipe that smug look right off her face. “And he isn’t even that smart, God knows how he got into Stark industries” nope that was it, that was the last straw. You pushed the stupid science lab chair back so hard it fell to the ground, heads turned to you as you stormed over to where Liz and her group where currently at which just happened to be at the front of the classroom. God, were you lucky that the teacher had left to go grab some more textbooks from some cupboard down the hall, otherwise you would have been dead when you said “Listen Liz. Peter is an amazing and smart boy who cares more for others than he does himself. He works harder than anyone else I know and he still manages to make sure others are okay. He is twice the person you will ever be and if you don't shut up in the next 2 minutes you won’t have to worry about being bitter over a breakup, you’ll be too worried about getting a set of new teeth”. If this was a cartoon steam would be pouring from your ears and your face would be blood red, which wasn’t too far from what you looked like now. Peter had taken a sick day and thank god he had, otherwise he would have killed you for even saying anything, however Ned was still here and he was waiting to see how far you would go before having to step in and calm you down. “Oh how sweet L/n, you think you’re all strong and scary” her and her friends' sickly sweet laughs echoed in your ears as you clenched your fists even harder. “Y/n come on Peter wouldn’t want this” ned tried to reason and even in your rage filled stupor you realised he was right and took a breath to try and calm yourself down “say anything again and you’ll see just how strong and scary I can be” you spat, stroming away, grabbing your bag and walking out of the room just in time for your teacher to walk back in, “where’s L/n?” he asked. 

Okay maybe you did tend to overreact 

You just really cared about your friends

They were there when you needed them and you wanted to do the same 

You couldn’t help it that you got angry when people decided to talk about them 

In some situations though it was acceptable to get angry

You, Mj and Betty had been coming back from the Cinema late one night after deciding that you deserved to spend some time together after exam week to treat yourselves. Unfortunately walking through the streets at 10pm meant getting some very unwanted attention from older men. “Hey mama looking good” one man slurred as you walked past him grabbing the girls hands a little tighter in an attempt to ground yourself and reassure them that you would keep them save, “hey don’t be like that, we just want to talk” another man added, honestly what was it with them? Couldn’t they see you obviously didn’t want to “talk” to them. You hadn’t even realised your feet had stopped moving until Betty gently placed her hand on your shoulder and whispered “It’s fine just let it go” and tried to give you a nudge in the direction you had originally been going. “Hey! Don’t just ignore us! We know you want some attention” you didn’t know who had said it and at this point you didn’t care, worrying more about teaching them a thing called respect than about who voiced their unwanted thoughts. Letting go of your friends hands, turning around slowly and walking towards the men with a smile on your face so sweet it was almost scary. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that women aren’t your submissive little toys?” you sung punctuating your sentence with a kick to one guy's nuts and a punch to the other's nose. “Because someone really should” and as the men were recovering from your atack you stalked away along the dimly lit street and continuing your journey to Mj’s house.

Okay so we have clearly established your hatred towards people who disrespect your friends 

The Avengers new about your strong feelings and respected the fire that you had 

Of course they did have Bruce try and teach you some breathing exercises 

Spoiler alert they didn’t help very much 

So when Bucky got a call from your school telling him that he would have to pick you up as you were suspended for a week

He couldn’t say he was surprised

“I’m going to pick Y/n up from school, be back in a bit” Bucky called to the rest of the team who had been watching some sort of reality show on the new Tv Tony had no reason to buy but did, “why? What happened?” Steve replied, a look of concern on his face “They got into a fight and so they are suspended for a week” the supersoldier sighed, grabbing the car keys and whispering “what did you do this time Y/n” to himself.

I’ll tell you what happened

You had been on your way to English when you had seen Flash taunting Mj, waving her book above his head and laughing hysterically about something. Instantly you dropped your bag to the floor and stormed over to them “Hey Flash, what are you doing there buddy?” you shouted loud enough to seem intimidating but not loud enough to capture the attention of the teachers and students who were already in class. “None of your business Y/n, move along” he spat back, if looks could kill he would be six feet under and halfway to hell as you ripped the book from his grasp and slammed him into the lockers “really? Because to me it looks like you’re being rude to my good friend Mj and I don’t take that very lightly”. Gripping him by the collar and pushing him even further into the lockers that he was sure his body had made a dent in the metal, however flash was never one to give up like the shaking leaf of a man he was. Pushing you hands off and shoving you by your shoulders he said “aww look Mj your angry little guard dog has come to your rescue again. How sweet” if there was one thing you hated more than stupid boys and disrespect it was being called a dog. You weren’t gonna let him call you that. Quicker than he could say “Don’t hit me” your fist came flying straight into the boy's noise, a satisfying crunch being made upon impact. Now throughout all of this no one had heard the commotion and they wouldn’t have if Flash didn’t scream out in pain and then faint at the sight of his own blood.

That’s how you ended up getting suspended 

It was what you had told your dad when he picked you up because you had no reason to lie

No matter how proud of you he was he still gave you a talking to 

You both had a long talk about how best to go about controlling your anger and instead of going back to Bruce you decided to take a few anger management classes

And so far it’s going great

(Until flash decides to open his mouth again)

[homosexuality-at-its-finest]

To love a hero

A/n: So I'm really sad right now and I'm gonna project that onto my writings, sorry in advance

Plot: Loving a hero is a difficult and heart wrenching task

Pairing: Peter parker x male reader

Y/n: Your name

L/n: Last name

N/n: Nickname

H/c: Hair color

Warnings: lotta angst, happy ending because I’m not a monster, cussing, major character injury

Word count: 1774

Y/n L/n and Peter Parker went way back, even farther than Peter and Ned. The two had been friends since Pre-K, and only grew closer as the years went by. The two were almost interpretable, if one of the boys was seen, the other was close by.

No one really understood their friendship, but no one questioned it either. In high school the two boys became impossibly closer, Y/n was the first to know about Peter’s abilities, the brunette couldn’t keep something so big from his best friend. Y/n was there and helped make his first suit, the boy was there to soothe his aching bones and to nurse his blossoming bruises.

The pair shared an unbreakable bond, they were what love stories depicted. The love between them was seen by everyone but the two. Of course, Peter knew he was in love with Y/n and vice versa, but for two genius’ they were both dumbasses. Hell, even Tony stark noticed the young love blossoming, the billionaire could see how much the pair adored each other.  

On multiple occasions he’d tried to coerce the young superhero into admitting his feelings but was always given the same response.

“Y/n doesn’t like me like that Mr. Stark, I’m not ruining our friendship over my feelings.” Simple and to the point, but it drove Tony insane that the young genius was so fucking blind. He opted against bringing it up again after seeing such clear pain in Peter’s eyes every time they talked about it, being a bystander as time passed by.

Maybe Peter couldn’t see how enamored Y/n was with him, but Tony could. Especially as he clutched the said boy against his chest as he let out guttural and heart wrenching sobs.

It had all started off as a normal Saturday, Peter was over at Y/n’s the two sitting on the couch and watching some unknown movie, it was purely background noise. The two boys were to focused on each other and their conversation to care about the movie. The domestic peace was ruined by Peter’s phone chiming, a familiar sound that always caused dread to run down Y/n’s spine.

It was the sound of Peter’s police scanner, hearing the radio chatter begin. “Unknown entity in central park, currently creating a perimeter and pushing back civilians, backup requested.” The look of determination crossed over Peter’s features, and if Y/n knew Peter would listen, he’d beg for him to let the avengers take care of it.

“That’s my cue, I’ll see you later N/n!” Peter did a mock salute to his best friend, easily escaping the home via window. For some unknown reason Y/n felt on edge, his gut tightening painfully. He immediately flicked on the news, only having to wait a few moments before the familiar figure of spiderman flung into frame.

The fight was nerve wrecking, watching as the Villain and superhero alike exchanged punches and kicks, and Y/n knew Peter was probably making stupid quips to keep his anxiety under control. The H/c haired boy gnawed on his bottom lip as he watched the fight escalate, getting more violent by the second.

The villain had hit Peter with all their might, and Y/n could only watch as the boy he loved more than anything was flung against a building before he crumpled to the ground. It was as the world stood still, stealing all the breath from Y/n’s lungs as the figure of spiderman didn’t budge, he didn’t get up. Peter promised he’d always get back up.

He felt like his heart had been ripped out of his chest and stomped on, air was to thick to breathe and he could feel the moisture running down his face and the devastated cry that left his lips went unheard. The boy couldn’t really remember when Happy arrived at his house, a grim expression on his face as he looked at the disheveled teenager.

Y/n couldn’t remember the drive to the compound, it was as if his brain had just shut down, leaving him devoid of any life. Maybe that’s what Peter was like right now, devoid of life. His constant chatter silenced, his jittery movements stilled, his beautiful face pulled into the blank look of death.

The teenage boy could remember that Happy had to pull over so Y/n could vomit on the side of the road, silent sobs clenching his lungs in their vice. Never in all of his short life had he felt so much pain, never had he begged for the sweet release of darkness as he did now.

The H/c haired boy begged any god that would listen for this to be a nightmare, that he’d wake up and he and Peter would still be on the couch. The brunette would tease him for falling asleep, but he’d take anything to make this pain go away.

When he finally got to the compound and saw Tony waiting, the same grim look on his face as happy, it felt like every last shred of his strength and control was gone. Y/n collapsed into Tony’s arms, breaking into pieces. He only processed a few words “surgery” “critical” and “I’m so sorry.” Everything blended together as the billionaire led him to the medical wing, holding onto the breaking teenager, as if his touch would mend him.

Hours felt like eternity, it was hellish. The sobs that once left the teenager were turned into deafening silence, the occasional sniffle leaving the boy, comforting Tony that the child was in fact still alive.

May had shown up at some point, Y/n couldn’t honestly remember when, or honestly care. Not when he felt like part of himself was missing, leaving a gaping hole where Peter once was.

Good news came in the form of a doctor informing them, at hour 4 of waiting, that Peter had survived the surgery and was now stable. If it wasn’t for his healing factor, the teenager would’ve been dead. He was under sedatives currently, so his body could work solely on healing.

It felt like a weight off of everyone’s chest, he was okay, alive and breathing. The 3 walked in silence to Peter’s room, May and Y/n taking their respective sides on Peter, as Tony sat at the foot of the bed.

Hours were spent in silence, May haven fallen asleep not to long after receiving the news that Peter was okay. Tony and Y/n stayed awake, both lost in their own thoughts. The teenager held Peter’s hand, thumb brushing over his knuckles silently. His eyes rarely left the still form, scared that if he looked away the boy would disappear from his grasp.

“Yknow what sucks about loving a hero?” Y/n’s broken voice cut through the silence, starling Tony from his thoughts. He didn’t reply, his gaze falling on the teenager. Y/n looked over at Tony and fuck that look should never be on a child. He looked so broken, so tired.

“I know he’s going to die long before me, and I’ll be stuck in this fucked up world without him.” A humorless laugh broke through the boys’ lips, it sounded watery and oh so broken. “I’m not ready to live without him Tony.” A quiet sob left his lips, his free hand going to stifle it.

“I love him so much, and it scares me so fucking bad.” Y/n’s eyes moved back over to Peter, shakily bringing the sleeping boy’s hand up to kiss his knuckles. Tony felt his chest tighten painfully; this was really a reminder that they were just kids who grew up way to fast.

“He’s not going to die Y/n, not if I have anything to say about it.” Tony replied in a surprisingly gentle but determined tone. He’d be damned if he let this pair get separated, Peter and Y/n deserved to be together. To grow up together and create a life.

The room fell into silence after that, neither of them wanting to broach the topic again. In the early hours of the morning Peter’s doe like eyes opened once more. Every inch of his body ached with an indescribable pain, and he had to hold back a grimace. He was surprised to see the 3 most important people in his life strewn about the room, two fast asleep. Y/n was still awake though, clasping Peter’s hand like a lifeline has his tired eyes burned into the sheets.

Peter gave his best friends hand a gentle squeeze, but it was enough for the boy’s head to shoot up so fast Peter was scared he’d get whiplash. “Peter! Oh, thank God.” The H/c haired boy breathed out, and even through his eyes were red and puffy from tears and purple bags so dark they looked like bruises bloomed under his eyes, he was still the most gorgeous creature Peter had ever seen.

Peter gave a weak smile, squeezing his hand once more. “How long have I been out?” He questioned; head tipped to the side like a curious puppy. “About 12 hours.” Y/n replied, voice cracking slightly.

The gentle aura Y/n held around him quickly disappeared into one of anger. “If you ever do that to me again Peter I swear to God, I’ll kill you myself.” Y/n spit out angrily, but the anger was gone as fast as it had appeared.

“I thought you died, and that was the most painful thing I have ever experienced. I love you, and I’d rather you be with the land of the living.” The confession was made by a boy to tired to process he had said it.

Peter felt a wave of guilt crash over him at the boy’s confession. He knew now wasn’t the time to talk on the subject. “I’m okay N/n and trust me I won’t be doing that again any time soon. Why don’t we sleep and talk again in the morning?”

Peter was exhausted, and he knew his best friend was too, they could talk about this at a later date. As Y/n made a sound of agreement, laying his head against the mattress, Peter knew that everything would be okay. It didn’t matter what horrors he faced, or what pain he went through. He had made a promise to Y/n. He’d get up every time, and he’d be damned if he ever made the Boy he loved go through that pain again.

[rrickgrrimes8]

Hey 🥺 could I request a Peter Parker X reader ? x

Could you do one maybe where the reader is having a bad episode and hasn’t been eating or going out much, so Peter comes over to take care of her and he gets angry with her and admits he likes her? 🥺

Superhero ~ Peter Parker

hey @i-have-no-life-beyond-internet hope you liked your request! sorry if it’s not what you wanted please send feedback if so :))

warning: mentions of depressive episodes, not eating, angst with lil fluffy ending, bad writing lol :) 

more imagines are coming soon so if youve requested ill try and get it out asap sorry for the delays.

 also not my gif :) credits to the owner

masterlist

request guidelines

request are open

Since you can remember you always had bad days. Or rather bad periods. You never really thought much of it. Hell, you thought it was normal at a time. It was your mom who noticed first. She noticed how you were glued to your bed most days out of the week - something your father joked around saying you were just lazy, which did more harm than good. Next, she noticed how you didn't eat or when you did it was only small amounts of something that wasn't giving you anything to keep you going. She knew it was okay and she got how you were in pain. And she hated it. 

She got you help in the form of a therapist you see weekly. You like him. He's always kind to you and for the first time in your life, you found someone who would listen unconditionally. When you went to see him he noticed how you avoided everyone during your episodes - and it wasn't due to a lack of friends. You had friends - many of them actually. And they were good friends as well. You know they would understand if you told them about your episodes but you could only bring yourself to tell one person. Peter. Peter Benjamin Parker was your best friend in the entire world. And when you told him, you didn't think he quite understood. Peter admitted that he didn't really get it. He struggled a lot at first so he learnt. He researched day and night - all while completing the task of being both a student and a superhero. 

'Peter cares,' was something your therapist remarked throughout every visit. And it was true. Peter did care. But still, it was easier going through it alone. You knew how busy he'd get with being Spiderman and you didn't want to be an extra thing on top of that. 

So like many times before when you went bad you hid it. It was easy considering how much time Peter had been spending with Mr Stark and on the streets fighting criminals. He didn't mean to forget about you although that's what it seemed. He was just busy and he knew you understood that - maybe more than he wanted. It was a Monday morning when Peter noticed your absence in school - one that urged Ned to point out your absence from Thursday and Friday the week prior. Like the nervous boy he was, he worried. What if something had happened to you and he was too stupid to have noticed? What if you had been taken by his enemies? 

The what if's circled his mind all throughout the day and when the final bell rang he rushed out of the school. Carelessly he attached his web to one of the nearby building not caring to disguise himself first. Barrelling through the skyline of Queens he soon found himself outside your window. Your curtains were closed but he could tell there was no light inside anyways. He closed his eyes trying to focus on the inside of your room but he heard nothing. No TV, no music, nothing. And that shook him to the core. Frantically he began to bang on the locked window. There was no movement inside so he continued with his irritating plan. 

You, who was sluggishly consumed in sadness and self-pity, remained paralysed on your bed. You shut your eyes trying to block out the noise. You knew it had to be Peter. Only Peter would show up on your fire escape. "Hey, y/n are you in there?" The anxious boy called out, "Please answer me. I promise I won't be mad. Just open up please." His voice was croaky and continued to beg her. She hated this. It was a foreign concept for her to hear Peter in such a state - the only times she could remember was when Ben died. 

"Key's under the pot," She mumbled finally not entirely sure he had heard her meek voice. But he had as his frame stumbled onto her bedroom floor. 

"Oh, you're okay. Thank god," He picked himself and sat on the edge of your bed, "Are you okay?" 

"M'fine," You muttered. Unconvinced, Peter moved his hand to your hair, which was knotted and unwashed. He began to stroke gently trying to undo the knots. He somewhat understood now. You were having an episode and he was too ignorant to be of any help. 

"I'm sorry I haven't been there for you," Peter weakly smiled at you one you couldn't return but tried anyways. 

"It's ok. You didn't know." 

"But I should've," He admitted angrily, "Why didn't you call me, y/n?" Tears sprouted from the corners of your eyes. You were just so tired and now Peter was angry - whether it was at you or himself was up for debate. "Oh, sweetheart, don't cry I'm here," He wiped away the stray tears and stroked your now damp cheeks. 

"A-are you mad at me?" You worried, "Do you hate me?" 

Peter looked taken aback and instantly shook his head, "What? No no no. Never. I'm just upset right now- but not at you. Never at you. You did nothing wrong. I just wished you would've called me. I want to be there for you." 

You frowned, "Didn't want to be a burden. You're busy enoug-" 

"Hey, no. Absolutely not. I will never ever be too busy for you okay? Please remember that. I'm always going to come to you no matter what," Peter snapped shaking off the newly formed tears, "You come first always. You will never be a burden. You will never be an inconvenience. You are my everything, okay? I want- I need you to know that. Do you understand, sweetheart?" 

"Yeah," Peter leant down and kissed your forehead. 

"Have you eaten, sweetheart?" You reluctantly shook your head, "Why not, y/n?" 

You sighed shakily, knowing how disappointed he was in you right now, "C-cant. M'sorry, Peter." 

"It's okay, sweetheart, I'm not angry with you. Let's just get you something to eat." 

"I'm not hungry," You insisted. 

"Please, y/n, for me?" You agreed, watching him disappear into another room and returning with a sandwich. Peter placed the plate in front of you, while you bit your upper lip feeling the urge to throw up but knowing it was futile having not eaten in days - except from a few stray m&m's. "I know it's hard, y/n, but I know you can do it. You're so strong," He smiled at you. 

"Say's the superhero. I can't even get out of bed," You cried turning on your back from your side. 

Peter exhaled while grabbing your hand, "You are my superhero. And I know how cringy that is but it's true. You are so incredibly brave - braver than me." 

"How?" 

"Because you keep going, sweetheart. You keep going even when it's bad and that is so brave. And that's why I like you so much." 

"You like me?" you gasped causing Peter to nod, "I lik-" 

"No don't say anything back okay? Right now it's not about confessions it about getting you back to yourself - nice and healthy," He told you. 

"But I do," You smiled. 

"Good and we'll deal with that later," Peter voiced, "right now please eat the sandwich and then I'll run you a bath and tidy up. And when that's all done and you feel a little better when can talk about it again. Is that alright?" You nodded grinning as he booped your nose. You picked up the sandwich and took a small bite which Peter cheered you on for. "I'm so proud of you, sweetheart." 

"Thank you, Petey." 

[viltrumitesuperboy]

Babysitting Job (Peter Parker x Natasha’s Brother Reader)

Sorry for any errors within the plot. I wrote this over the course of two weeks. Reader’s powers not mentioned much.

Requested by: anon Could I possibly request a Peter Parker x Male Reader, where the reader is Black Widow's younger brother and has trained in martial arts and gymnastics and the like, but also has the ability of animal shape-shifting? Maybe all the avengers meet him for the first time when Black Widow finally gets him to live with her and Peter gains a pretty big crush on him?

Word count: 3352

You trained under your older adoptive sister for years. Natasha found out that you had been born with the ability to shift into animals. She brought you to her workplace where you would be treated as a person and not as a weapon like she had. You never stayed with her after you'd trained for a few years, leaving America to take other jobs. Every once in a while she'd check up on you, asking if you needed anything or if you could help her find some information. Even miles away, she still acted like your older sister and was just as protective.

Eventually you decided to finish your education in America, staying with Natasha at the Avengers Tower. She had an entire floor to herself, but rarely used most of it. She was a minimalist to an extent. She made sure you were settled before going to her briefing late, assuring you that she wouldn't get in trouble. If anything, you were sure that she'd scold them for starting without her.

You spent the first few nights extremely uncomfortable in the new place. You had never needed to stay somewhere for a long time, and even if it had only been a few days, you knew you'd be there for a while.

After a week, you were roaming about the R&D floors and bumped into someone.

"Oh, you," Tony Stark said.

"Who do you think I am?" you asked warily.

"Natasha's kid brother, right? With the powers? Listen, I have something for you."

"Uh..."

"Here. Have you seen this?"

He pulled out his StarkPad. You watched the video he pulled up, not wanting to interrupt someone who seemed like he was always in a rush. It was a boy with a lean figure, dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants along with a mask covering his entire head. You silently applauded him for being a beginner vigilante who wore something practical considering he probably couldn't afford body armour.

"This is Spider-kid. Well, Spider-Man. But he's young, and I want to keep an eye on him. You mind helping me out? Of course, I wouldn't tell you his identity without his consent, but he agreed that he'd be fine with me giving him protection after..." he trailed off, gesturing vaguely with his hand as if you knew what he was talking about. "Anyway, you feel up to going to high school? You're young. You'll probably fit right in."

"Mr. Stark, I have no social skills. I assure you, putting me in a high school considering my powers and training is likely a danger to my mental stability and their physical well-being. I'm not going to babysit someone for you."

Tony's features seemed to soften a bit. He looked less like he was in a rush as much as he normally did. It was something he reserved for the people he cared most about.

"Look, I get it. People are hard to talk to. And I'm not saying this as Tony Stark, owner of a large company. I'm saying this as the reason I'm Iron Man. You've seen all that through files from Nat, right?" He awaited your confirmation, and you nodded. "Good. All you need to do is just be with Peter. And I'm sure you qualify to work for S.H.I.E.L.D. This can just be a mission and they'd be glad to know that my- uh, the kid is being managed by someone they can trust because at least they know Nat. It doesn't have to be anything else, not even a favour for me. Just a job."

You thought about it for a moment, then asked to see more of the videos. Stark held out the device for both of you to see and swiping through a few. You both stood there in the sunlit hallway for a while. He was barely trained and relied a lot on his powers. Maybe you could help him.

"I'll speak to Natasha today. I think I'll help you out, but talk to him first," you said finally.

"Great. By the way, I think he'd be a lot more comfortable if he knew that you were working with me," Stark said, just about to walk away. "He knows that someone will be sent to watch him, but he doesn't know who and he doesn't trust easily. He'd appreciate if you told him who you were right off the bat. Be careful."

"For him or for me?"

"Personally? For him. I think you can handle yourself."

He walked away, the device tucked under his arm as he made his way to one of the labs. It was obvious Stark cared for the boy, and you respected Stark for his efforts to make the world safer after what he'd gone through. If this was a job, this was one you'd take very seriously.

———

Your powers meant you could shift into animals, but you could also just take the attributes of any animal you knew to exist. It was much easier than turning into a large wildcat in the middle of a city street. You'd taken the climbing abilities of a gecko, leaping from another building to climb up the tower. There was a bandana covering the lower half of your face, just so you couldn't be recognised by cameras. You had just started to open the window when a reflection on the window blocked the lights inside.

"Hey, uh, what are you up to?" Spider-Man asked.

You turned to look at him, adjusting your bandana.

"Nothing, just going home," you replied, opening the window.

"Oh! Do you live here?" he piped up.

"No, but it'll be my home once I break in."

"Uh..."

"I'm just kidding. You can come in if you want. I know Stark has a soft spot for you."

"Mr. Stark? Really? I mean, I try to text Happy all the time cause I really want to tell Mr. Stark stuff sometimes but I didn't really think he actually-"

"Hey! Get inside!" your sister shouted from the kitchen.

You quickly slipped in, Spider-Man following and shutting the window behind you.

"What have I told you about coming in from there?" Natasha glared sternly.

"That there's an elevator and I should use it like a respectable person."

"Exactly. Go change and then help me out with lunch. Hi, Spider-Man. You know where to go."

"Yeah, sorry, Ms. Romanov. I didn't know you had a friend coming over."

"He's my brother. Now hurry up. Pepper will have your head if you're late."

The conversation trailed off, likely followed with goodbyes, as you went to your room. Lunch led to a very serious conversation about joining the secret government agency along with your first job: keeping Spider-Man in check.

———

The flash drive you received had the worst possible photo of Peter Parker you could imagine. It was as if they couldn't get an actual photo of him. Considering the fact that he was an official intern here, you figured that they might be able to get something that didn't look like an unfortunate accident from Picture Day. Because in person, he looked... not as stupid.

Going back to a public school was strange. You hadn't gone since you were a child, the rest of your education mixed in with the martial arts training you had to take. There were so many people, but at least they were ignoring you for the most part. The main problem was finding out where the hell B104 was.

"Um, are you lost?"

A girl with curly hair and a sketchbook to her side had a locker open next to you. You glanced at her putting books away and taking things out before responding.

"Yeah, I don't know where this is?"

She looked at your schedule, nodding as she shut her locker.

"Yeah. That's the basement. There's one science class down there," she explained. "I'll go with you; I have something there, too."

You thanked her as you both walked through the crowded hallways. She occasionally nudged people aside, giving absolutely no shits to the people standing in the way. Natasha would like her. When you accidentally mentioned it in a quiet mumble, she laughed. She claimed that if she ever met Black Widow, "it'll be over for all you bitches." You didn't doubt it. You both went down a floor and she led you to the room.

"I have to go a bit further down, but..." she quickly pulled out a pen and wrote down your room numbers on her wrist. "I have some classes close to these, so I can bring you there for the first half of the day before lunch. I'll see you after class?"

"Uh, sure?"

"My name's Michelle."

"I'm (Y/N)."

She stuck her hand out in a way that you became extremely uncomfortable with, not used to shaking hands. She seemed to notice your hesitation then held it up for a high five. You gave a small smile of gratitude and gave her one.

"I'm sorry, that's so awkward. Um, if you stick with me, I'll teach you the secrets of this school. Okay, there aren't really any, but you really look like more of a loner than I do."

You nodded awkwardly in response and turned to walk into your class without another word.

Michelle had about three of her classes with you, and you shared 4 with Peter Parker, two of which were before lunch. She walked you to the table she usually sat at, a relaxed gait to talk to you comfortably.

"Everyone kind of adopts their own spot in the cafeteria at some point. Those tables are usually empty, and that's where I sit. I have a feeling you're going to be spending your time there too."

You spotted Peter, who waved at you. Confused, you waved back, then Michelle voiced an excited greeting. You put your hand down after pretending to scratch your head.

"This is Peter and Ned. They're in some of your classes."

"Oh, you're the kid who broke one of the beakers today, right? Man, that's so weird. How did you manage that?" Ned recalled.

You weren't about to tell him that you hadn't broken it at all. It was sitting on one of the heating plates and you were trying to put it away, but it fell as you'd tried to catch it with your sticky gecko hands. It didn't work.

"I have super strength," you deadpanned.

The three laughed, somehow. You hadn't interacted with such a close friend group like this ever. Peter was an awkward teen just like the others, and you wondered how difficult it must have been for him to adjust to his powers in the middle of his schooling. If anyone noticed you staring at him, they didn't mention it.

———

You did not tell Peter that he was just your job.

He was completely oblivious to your role in his life and laughably terrible at hiding his secret. You once caught him pick up an entire row of lockers with one hand in between classes. He picked up a bottle that looked like it held arsenic and placed the lockers back down. The sunlight streaming in from a nearby classroom's glass window made you realise that this boy had no regard for his surroundings. He was incredibly stupid. You really had to tell him soon.

He'd visited the tower a few more times, and you'd sometimes see him practice with your sister. She'd look up at you in the doorway of the training room and glare at you, as if telling you that she was doing your job. You walked away before he saw you every time. Instead, you followed him around when he was Spider-Man, choosing when you wanted him to know you were there and when you didn't. You'd learned that from Natasha. He'd tried to get your attention a few times, knowing you were there, but you slipped out of sight every time.

Michelle started to ask you to call her MJ. Ned showed you pictures of the Death Star he and Peter built together. It suffered destruction twice in the past, but it was perfect now and sitting on display in Ned's home. Peter offhandedly mentioned that Tony Stark wanted to display it at the tower. Ned was all for it, and you wanted to hit your head on a wall. Peter consistently confirmed his parent-child relationship with Stark without realising it. It was a bit infuriating for everyone else who could see it.

Peter had started to become more awkward around you. He'd been more comfortable over time, but one day he just started to get fidgety and stammered a lot. It only happened when he spoke to you. You were aware that you were probably one of the very few people that he felt any romantic attraction to, and he probably felt like you were his only option. Unsurprisingly, you felt the same way. It sucked having only a few friends.

At some point the secret had to come out. You were just standing in the kitchen, opening the fridge for the second time like it would suddenly become interesting, and jumped once you closed it.

"Oh my god, Peter," you huffed.

"(Y/N)? What are you doing here?"

Your eyes darted to Natasha for help. Peter followed your line of sight to her. She shrugged and hauled her duffel bag further up her shoulders.

"I have a mission. I'll only be gone less than a week. Get groceries."

The elevator arrived in seconds and she went up, likely to the helipad. You both stood there in silence for a moment.

"That's my sister," you admitted.

"Hold on, so you're telling me the person I met sticking to a window was you? The new, awkward kid at my high school?"

"You're awkward too."

Peter began too look a bit uncomfortable just standing in front of you in plain view, like he was suddenly aware of how open he was.

"You were the one following me around the city too. When I'm Spider-Man."

You nodded, gesturing to the living room so you could both take a seat. He was quiet as you went to your room, coming back out with the flash drive you had on him.

"Stark wanted someone to watch you, and he doesn't have many younger options. Then Nick Fury apparently wanted to keep an eye on you, so it all worked out. Natasha talked to him about having me join, and you were supposed to be my mission."

"Then why didn't you tell me? Are we... friends?"

"Yes!"

Peter looked away from you and looked out the window, the same one you both climbed into a while ago. He looked down at the flash drive, his teeth biting his bottom lip. You slowly sat down next to him, being sure to keep some distance away.

"I just didn't know how to tell you. Stark said that I would have been fine if you didn't know who exactly was watching you. I didn't expect to become your friend."

He put the flash drive in between the two of you, sliding it back over. You looked at it, your stomach doing turns knowing that you never would have hurt him if you said something earlier.

"My sister's been training you because I couldn't. I've learned a lot from her, but I've traveled more than she has. And I can adjust my powers to be more like yours. If you'd still want me around, I can teach you more."

Peter stood up, holding his hand out like he was going to shake your hand. You followed suit, holding your hand up for a high five. You both switched your hand positions, then settled for a fist bump that wasn't quite coordinated.

"I know we're both a bit awkward and we don't know how to talk to people normally, but I don't think I'd ever give you up. I'd like to be more than a mission to you."

"Like a friend?"

"Whatever you want."

———

It was easier to be with Peter in the tower. You realised how little you actually know about the building, and the next few days were spent with the both of you walking to the subway together and taking it to where you lived. He always brought you up to Stark's personal floor, to both his and Stark's labs, then to the R&D floors that you stopped exploring ever since your interaction with Tony Stark. He showed you what people were working on if they allowed you both in, and you'd watch him work on projects when he figured he'd procrastinated long enough. Sometimes MJ and Ned would tag along because apparently both you and Peter vouching for them was enough for security to let them through. Of course you had MJ meet your sister. It was a terrifying experience.

You spent weeks training Peter, watching him crawl up walls and do flips with more grace than you ever could and learning from him, but also taking him down much faster than he could ever take down anyone else. He was resilient but needed the training that both you and your sister provided. And even if your sister had been doing this longer than you had, you had abilities she didn't that could match and counter Spider-Man's.

Somehow Peter got even more awkward. He was clumsy, and was only lucky he didn't break things (or his own body parts) because of his powers. You didn't really want to tell him that you knew why. If you didn't have your own response to how he felt about you, he'd think that you were rejecting him. Though conflicted, MJ decided to make that decision for you.

"Ned, wanna come with me to see Ms. Romanov while she's training?" MJ asked, slinging her sweater over her shoulder.

"Uh, I don't really-"

"We have lovebirds to leave alone. Come on."

Ned looked a little torn, considering he had either the option of staying and not letting his two friends talk alone for once or leaving and being constantly terrified of a woman and a teenage girl for hours. You felt he made the worse choice, as he followed MJ. Fool.

"Did you just call Ned a fool?" Peter laughed.

You put your hand over your mouth, but laughed with him anyway. You were both sitting on the same sofa that led to Peter finding out that he was a part of your job. His hand reached yours, putting it on top of where they rested on your lap. He pulled it towards him and held it like romantic couples usually do, with fingers crossed together. It took some struggle because you both moved your hands the same way. Once again, you shared a laugh, though this one was more strained and uncomfortable.

"You like me, Peter," you said, not an ounce of doubt in your words. "I've known behaviour long enough to know. And I like you too, but I'm scared that it's because you're the first friend I've had that wasn't my sister."

"I was supposed to say it first," he pouted. "I had those two leave on purpose!"

You laughed and lightly squeezed his hand.

"I mean, what's life if we're not going to take risks?" he continued. "You decided to go to public school after years of not making friends, and I went on a school trip, got bitten by a spider, and decided not to tell anyone. If it doesn't work out, we can still be friends, right?"

"Nat would force me to stick around you as part of the job. Keeping you around as a friend is just a plus."

"Well, don't think that I'm letting you off the hook for telling me how you feel first. I'm holding you to this." Peter pointed a finger menacingly at you, which you pushed away.

"Sorry for stealing your thunder. And speaking of thunder, Thor's coming in a few hours. You wanna hide his food and blame it on Barton?"

"Hell yeah."

[wordsinwinters]

Then Again, Chapter 9: More Than Anyone Else

Summary: After an intense fight and a forced-to-share-the-bed situation during their junior year decathlon trip, Peter and the Reader examine their faults and failings. As they attempt to fix their mistakes and improve their friendship, that friendship quickly begins to evolve into something else.

Betas: @fanboyswhereare-you and @girl-tips-from-satan

Masterlist (with AO3 links)

Then Again, Chapter 9: More Than Anyone Else

(Word count: 1,881)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29,

As the millionth text from Ned buzzes my phone, I consider chucking it off the roof. Maybe myself with it.

It only took an episode of yelling with Y/N and a door slam for him to finally answer me back, as if the five minutes of me pounding on his and MJ’s door earlier hadn’t been a concern of his. Now, given the timing, I’ve decided to respond with his own stubbornness and refuse to even open the messages. I can guess what they say. Probably what Aunt May said when she called forty minutes ago.

Something like: Maybe it’s time to be straightforward and tell her. What’s the worst that could happen? It has to be better than how you’ve left it. As long as you handle this properly, I think the Peter Parker Gets a Girlfriend initiative is still in the running!

I know I’m not handling this well. I know it’s bad. I know. I mean, it’s kind of impossible to feel how I feel about her and not understand that I’ve probably — definitely — blown all my chances at this point. I wish Aunt May understood that. Trying to explain what it was like back there, how bad I made it, how angry we both were… all it did was make me want to throw up. And Aunt May didn’t exactly listen, really listen, to that part anyway. If I hadn’t gotten choked up, she probably would have called Y/N herself. I’ve never been so relieved to start crying while talking to someone. At least she’s backing off. For tonight, that is.

I can’t stop thinking about how it happened. It was so fast. Even though I knew it was building up all week, I had no idea I would snap like that— and especially at first, I really didn’t mean to.

I mean, it’s been hard keeping everything in. Aunt May and Ned have been putting so much pressure on me to “tell her how I feel” lately and then she was just so happy the last few days that every time I was around her, which was constantly with all of our studying, I kept finding myself balanced between wanting to burst out and finally tell her, consequences be damned, or else call Happy and see if Mr. Stark had any potentially lethal missions available. Instead, I kept my mouth firmly shut and avoided eye contact with her and Aunt May. After this morning with Flash, last night with Flash, the thought of her kissing Flash (even at six years old, which, I know, is so stupid to be upset over, but like… it’s Flash, who’s literally never not tormented me when given the opportunity) and all the private texting between everyone, the pool was the last straw.

I tried to get out of it earlier. Maybe I should’ve. But Y/N asked me if I was coming in a voice that warned me something was off, so I went. I didn’t want to be there. But I wasworried she might need someone. (Ironic, given how I behaved in the end. God, I’ve been such an ass.)

Plus, after she hugged me and ran off, things got really weird. I knew why she did it, even if Aunt May keeps denying any involvement. It’s awkward to imagine what Aunt May must have said to her to make her do it. She obviously didn’t want to. Not to mention, I knew I got her stuck outside with Flash when Aunt May called again.

In my defense, I really thought Ned and MJ would let her in the other room.

Anyway, the point is: things have never been more unclear with Y/N than they were an hour ago. I’ve been so worried about letting myself get too excited around her that I’ve probably been leaning too far into reasons to be upset with her (Ned thinks it’s some “self-preservation” thing, and I’m starting to agree). I must have been coming across as a rude asshole all week. If Aunt May and Ned have been trying to push her towards me, it must have been super confusing for her, it probably made my behavior even worse.

All that aside, it still doesn’t make any sense why she would try to get me to play that game in the pool.

With Abe it was easy. We were just pretending, like acting punches, pretend shoves. She knows that if I really hit someone it could go seriously wrong. I can’t risk it. I would never risk it with any of my friends, not ever, even if it’s a game. So when she started getting angry, I figured it was just a way to get angry with me like I’d been doing with her. Do something! I can still hear her saying it. I just don’t understand what she wanted me to do, though.

The more she said it, the more I worried she was hinting at something bigger. Was she trying to poke me into letting some Spidey secret out? I’ve never suspected that type of motive from her, but why else mock me with something she knows I can’t do because of it? Could it really have slipped her mind? She’s always on top of everything. It doesn’t exactly seem like something she’d forget.

I guess— no, I know— I let fear get the best of me. I should never have shouted or gotten angry or splashed her like I did. It doesn’t matter if I’ve been a nervous wreck around her or scared of everything I’ve been feeling or frustrated that she invited Flash to the dinner or even panicked about her practically yelling a phrase I didn’t understand. I should have kept my temper and waited to talk to her later, like she said.

That’s the shittiest part. More than anyone else, she’s the person I wish I could talk to most about, well, everything. But I can’t.

I’m torn in two parts right now and neither of them is concerned with securing her as my girlfriend. (I know that isn’t how Ned and Aunt May meant it, but “winning the game” or “accomplishing the mission” is not even on my radar at the moment.) First, I’m still frustrated. Not angry, at least, but everything we talked— well, yelled— about didn’t just dissolve. It’s still in my head, even if I’m trying to erase it. Second, all I want to do is go back and apologize like an idiot. Even if we’re fighting, I don’t want to make her feel bad about anything. I want to go make sure she’s alright. All I wanted in the first place was to finally hear the truth about her and MJ, to get through to her about Flash, and to just… feel like I’m a real part of her life. Even if not in the way I want.

I don’t think I accomplished much in the way of those three things, but then again, I’m still reeling. There’s so much to go over. My brain’s on overload.

I need to think this out.

I need to be rational.

Okay.

First: She said she and MJ aren’t dating. Ned and Aunt May always thought I was looking too far into little things when I brought this up. Maybe they were right. She did seem seriously surprised. Why deny it when confronted? And why else would MJ have been texting me today, hinting that she knew I liked her? If they were dating and Aunt May or Ned told her, wouldn’t she have gotten upset about it and said something to my face? It made me paranoid today that she was playing with me, but now the tone of her messages doesn’t seem threatening like it did before. It seems… curious, if not supportive. I… I guess that part is settled. Y/N did say, I’m not dating my best friend.

Did she mean none of her best friends, though? Like, ever? It felt coded. It felt like shit. I know I don’t have a chance in the first place, but it still stung like a slap to the face.

That phrase keeps playing in my head.

I’m not dating my best friend!

I need to stop thinking about it.

Second: Flash. That hasn’t moved anywhere. He’s still a dick and she’s still too forgiving with him. Thank god she doesn’t like him, at least. But the other things she said when I brought him up are definitely significant. What did she mean about Liz? Liz doesn’t have disagreements with many people and if they didn’t like each other, I certainly never noticed. But she said that too: I never noticed it. I’ll ask her about that later. Not too soon, definitely not tonight, but when — if — things get better.

There’s something more important to focus on.

She thinks about me. All the time. I can’t dwell too much on this. I know it doesn’t mean what I want it to mean, but it is meaningful in a thousand other ways.

She cares. She worries. She waits. She thinks about me. She really, genuinely, seriously cares about me. And she thinks about me, all the time.

How many times has she thought of me while I was thinking of her?

This thought is too dizzying. My legs feel like they might fold in.

I wind my towel up and put it behind my head to lie on it like a pillow.

I picture her walking home from school and sending me a text, thinking of me. All the while, I’m on the opposite side of Queens assuming her message is just a usual kindness, something she would do for anybody.

I think about you all the time, more than anyone else.

I nearly fainted when she said that, I swear.

So third: I am a real part of her life — proven by what she said. I think that’s enough. Knowing she genuinely, seriously cares is enough. I’d rather she thought of me in a more positive way, but if worrying reflects any sort of dedication to our friendship, that’s plenty. Though I will, from now on, respond to her messages immediately, even if it makes me feel desperate and lame, just to make sure she isn’t stressed out anymore. She worries about me.

Conclusions combined, I have no idea how I feel. I was so angry today. Flash’s stunt, the fact I thought she actually wanted to defend him, thinking she and MJ were in a secret relationship, the pressure Aunt May and Ned have been putting on me this week, especially since that hug thing… overall, the entire idea of their “mission.” (Honestly, calling it a mission did not make it any more appealing, despite what they may have hoped.)

It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m on unstable ground, but at least I know that when I go back to the room, I won’t feel claustrophobic, like I can’t get enough air. I’ve got fear to spare in gallons, but there’s hope mixed in too. I can fix this.

It’ll be okay. I can do this. I’m Spider-Man, for fuck’s sake.

I just need… a few minutes longer to get my head together.

Holy shit.

Next chapter

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[magalidragon]

For the Drabble challenge: 29 + 30 please! 😁

Here’s one! I have #30 coming up in a minute! This is set in a new universe, just something sweet and soft and maybe a tad angsty!

Safe Haven | 29. “Come over here and make me!”

"Daenerys get down from there and come here!"

"Come over here and make me!"

Jon muttered under his breath, storming towards the large oak tree behind his house-- and hers-- rummaging around in the dirty leaves and mud to find the knot at the base where he put his foot and then the groove just a foot above his head for his hand, beginning to haul himself up the back way towards the house above him.  "I'm going to kill you," he vowed, hating when he had to get up this way because she'd cranked up the rope ladder.

He emerged at the top, crawling over ungracefully onto the platform and fell to prop his back against the wall, peering into the treehouse where she sat, her face a beautiful mess of fury, fire, and pain.  She sniffed, hiding it behind her hand, and he ducked his head.  He knew she didn't like it when he saw her cry.  His dragon was always so strong.  He hit his head against one of the tree branches that curved out from the main trunk, which was in the center of the house.

It was hard to tell what came first, the tree or the treehouse.  It had been there forever; he joked that hte Children of the Forst must have built it.  It belonged to no one, stuck behind his house and hers, in a space of the Wolfswood that did not fall on his family's property or hers.  He drew his knee up to his chest and hooked his arm around it, holding onto his ankle.  "Dany, please," he said softly.  "It's not the end of the world."

"You're leaving!"

"I was always going to leave!"

"You didn't <i>tell</i> me!"

He would give her that one.  He closed his eyes, sighing hard.  Couldn't take it back.  "You knew I was going to join," he muttered.  There wasn't much for him.  He wasn't interested in going to college.  He had great grades, was one of the top of his class, but it wasn't for him and he knew it.  "I didn't want you there when I did."

She scowled, reaching over and picked up a stray beer can from the other night when they'd spent the entire time that his cousin had a party hiding away in their own private one.  She chucked it at him, with no heat behind the action.  "I hate you."

"I love you."

"I hate you."

He crawled towards her, repeating the words.  Over and over.  "I love you, I love you, I love you."

"No," she cried, when he pulled her small frame into his arms, and she cried into his chest as he rocked her.  She hiccuped, clutching his shirt.  "It's all changing Jon."

"I know."  He was leaving the only place he knew as his home, joining the military, disappearing into wherever or whatever they wanted him to do, although he had ideas.  Ideas he wouldn't tell her about because she could convince him otherwise.  He kissed her brow.  This was the only place she had thought of as her home, after an entire life of moving from place to place.  He exhaled, eyes fluttering shut.  "Dany...if you were with me...I would not have done it and...and I have to do this."

"I know."  She tilted her face up, the sunlight dying away at the end of the early summer day, her face a pale oval, tears streaking.  She blinked her violet eyes, looking indigo in the dim light.  Her silver hair was tangled, dirty from spending most of the day in the treehouse.  She brushed her lips along his pulse, racing.  "Hold me Jon, just...just hold me until the end."

If he had his way there wouldn't be an end.  He nodded and squeezed her close, until their hands grew bored, their emotions needing release, and they peeled at each other's clothing until they were making love under the stars, still not close to being 'experts' at the act even after the last few months of numerous hours of practice.

When he woke up in the morning, she was gone, and he stared at the carved heart in the tree trunk, smiling at it.  he wouldn't see her again; he had a feeling she was already on her way to Essos.

One day, he hoped, and he gathered up his clothes and climbed out of the treehouse, tossing the rope ladder up so no one could get to their safe haven.

--

Dany had not been back since she left for college. It broke her heart, being back here, but she had to return, because it was Ned Stark's funeral.  It was important for her to be there; he was always so kind to her, the weird silver-haired "Ghost Girl" they called her.  He knew her family's issues, why her mother had relocated them up North, as far away from anyone in the South who might know about her father's embezzlement and crimes. She hated running, she just wanted a place to call home.

And it wasn't even really home until she had discovered that ancient treehouse in the woods behind her house.  Except she wasn't the only one.

It became their place.  The weird bastard child with no mother and father, left to the charity of his aunt and uncle, and the see-through Ghost Girl.  They were the best of friends.  They did everything there.  It was where she had gone to cry over her brother Rhaegar's death, her brother Viserys running away and leaving them, all the kids making fun of her, and the highs and lows of friendship and heartbreak.  They watched meteor showers and stared at the stars, they both had their first drunk moments there-- and hangovers-- the first time they sampled Shade of the Evening-- she hated it, he threw up-- where she hid her cat Drogon from her mother for a week before he got out and ended up in her bedroom.

It was where they had their first kiss-- she wanted to know what it was like and he had already told his cousin he'd kissed someone-- laughing and giggling through it.  Then it was where they relaized they were in love with each other, shouting and angry because he'd gone on a few days with Ygritte Wilde who was telling everyone she'd taken his virginity and where she had been stood up on a 'date' that turned out to be his stupid fucking cousin Sansa setting her up for humilation.

They'd admitted their love, they had fumbled through their first time there-- and second, third, and fourth too.  It was where everything important happened.

It was where he broke her heart.  Where she broke his.

She stared up at it, reaching up with a branch to knock at the rope ladder, grunting from effort since it was caked to the wood from years of weather and countless leaves falling.  A clump of leaves and sticks fell, almost showering her with the detritus, and she smiled, lightly touching the frayed rope.  "Well if I die climbing this thing, that's appropriate," she muttered, hooking her foot into the bottom and making her way up.

It was like time stood still in the treehouse.

It was dusty, piles of leaves and dirt in the corners.  There was a blanket that had been eaten through by some animal, nothing but thread now.  She used to be able to stand straight up in it, but now she crouched, glancing around, smiling at it all.  There were a couple of band posters they'd tacked up, the paper caked onto the walls now.  If she touched it it would probably turn to dust.

And the trunk in the middle, with the carved heart, weather worn and the wood darkened.  She traced her finger along it.  DANY + JON.

She hadn't seen him yet; the funeral wasn't until tomorrow.

They had a lot to catch up on, she supposed, rocking onto her heels.  It was for self preservation she'd left him that morning.  That they'd ceased all communication.  It would kill her to keep it up.  They needed to leave.  To create their own lives and futures.

She exhaled, a puff of cold air coming out and she frowned, glancing down and realizing that the ashtray that she had made in art class was still there.  Except there was a single cigarette butt in it.  Delicately, she lifted it, and her eyes widened; it was still warm.  "Bloody hells," she cursed.

"Hi Dany."

Whipping her head, she fell backwards onto her butt, feet sliding under her.  She gaped at the opposite doorway; the back entrance up to the house, the way that they had to take if one of them had pulled up the rope ladder.  "Jon," she gasped.

He looked good.  Dark curls over his forehead and ears, his beard trim and lines threading from his eyes.  Gray, singular eyes, that made her think of the winter storms and the angry seas.  He smiled shyly, an arm draped over his knee.  "I heard you and...and I don't know why I hid," he admitted, shy.

She swallowed hard.  She wanted to yell at him for some reason.  He'd been in the papers six months ago; a dangerous mission at the Wall.  He could have died.  "Jon," she repeated.

He scooted a little closer to her.  "You look good."

Her hair was shorter than it had been.  She didn't know what to say.  What did you say after all this time to hte only man you had ever loved?  The only boy?  She took a deep breath, exhaled hard, and then did the only thing she suspected one could do.

She kissed him.

Lunged towards him, arms flying about his neck, and planted her mouth so hard on his, she knocked him backwards, and he grunted, the breath pushed out of him from her tiny body sitting on his.  He grabbed her hips and kissed her back, as urgent and desperate as her.  They were in heavy parkas and scarves, but none of that mattered, because she could hear his heart racing in time with hers, and feel the same hot bloody pulsing through him as her.

He broke the kiss a second later, hand rising to cup her cheek; it was cold, but she didn't mind, because the shock reminded her this was real.  "Dany," he sighed.

"I love you," she mumbled.  Tears trickled down her cheeks.  "I love you still Jon.  I don't care if you've changed, or...or if you're with someone or something...because I will always love you."

He smiled slowly and nuzzled his nose against hers, their hot breaths mingling.  "I love you too."  He paused, his brow wrinkling.  "And...and there's no one..  There's never been anyone but you."

They had so much to talk about, so much to catch up on, but for now, she needed to just remind herself that he was there, with her, in their safe space, away from anyone else.  She kissed him again, and again, and buried her face into his neck, smiling, finally at home.