#(but even initials would've have saved the peters-)

[lessycusee]

i gotta stop adding characters with 'p' names that have the same name or older/younger versions because i'm running out of brackets to use for tupper

[swiftlyinlove]

Anti-hero ;; Peter Hayes

pairing: Peter Hayes x GN!Reader

summary: Peter Hayes is exhausted of seeing his girlfriend, the only good thing in his life, always rooting for the anti-hero.

warnings: enemies (brief) to lovers, a little angst mixed with fluff, Peter thinks he's undeserving of love, deviation from canon, Evelyn is a manipulative bitch, more book-based than movie-based.

word count: approximately 4.1k.

a/n: Hi! I'm so excited to be publishing my first one-shot here on Tumblr. This one has kinda been sitting in my drafts for a couple of months. never actually saw the movies, I just read the books, but I really liked the way his redemption arc was handled, and I found myself imagining how different it would've been if he had someone who loved him by his side.

I have this thing where I get older but just never wiser

Midnights become my afternoons

Peter couldn't sleep. Maybe it was because he was uneasy on his new surroundings. Maybe it was the fact that everyone in the Bureau of Genetic Welfare knew the terrible things that he'd done, all the sins he committed back in Chicago, and hated him for it. Maybe it was the fact that almost all of his traveling companions hated his guts. Maybe it was all of those combined.

Despite of the cause of the problem, Peter found himself sitting near the peculiar fountain at the center of the Bureau's headquarters. His gaze was fixed on the letter he held delicately in his hand, his eyes not moving away from the swooping, sloping cursive letters. Your handwritting.

Your letter was the only thing he brought with him when he joined Tris and her friends on their quest to explore the world beyond the city's limits. You had written it back when he was serving Jeanine Matthew's and holding Tris and Tobias captive. You had been trying to free the two of them from Jeanine's villainous clutches, while at the same time trying to save Peter from succumbing into his own darkness.

In midnights like that, as Peter read your letter over and over again, he thought he didn't deserve you. You two had met back when you were still initiates at Dauntless - you had left Erudite, along with your good friend Will, while Peter had left his family behind in Candor.

You didn't have the best of starts, he had to admit. You grew up in a very toxic environment, where you had to excel at every single thing that you did in order to receive even the minimum amount of love and approval from your parents. He, on the contrary, was raised by a very loving family, but he simply craved to be the best at everything.

So, when training started and you both competed for the best pontuation in every activity, Peter wasn't exactly thrilled. And neither were you. Hatred started blossoming within the two of you like a rose full of thorns, your frustration towards each other close to the exploding point.

You were a very kind-hearted person, as Peter noticed early in your rivalry. You quickly became friends with Tris, Christina, and even Al. The fact that he seemed to bully Tris the most, since she was transfered from Abnegation, only added fuel to the fire that was your loathe for Peter Hayes.

However, with time, Peter caught himself noticing every little thing you did. He caught notice of how his heart would flutter - but only a little - whenever he saw you helping out your friends, either with training tasks or just normal day-to-day things.

He realized how his gaze would linger on you when you weren't looking, how he couldn't help the way his lips curled up whenever he saw your name placed high on the scoreboard. Hell, he didn't even mind if you scored better than him. Not anymore.

Turned out, the line between love and hate truly was thin. He tried to swallow his feelings, because he was aware of how awful he had been to you and your friends. He was sure you'd never like him back; he would never stand a chance with a good person like you.

It was in the middle of the second stage of initiation that you realized how your banter actually amused you. How Peter's snarky comments would bring a genuine smile to your face, and his absence left you feeling empty. You knew you shouldn't feel that way; he was incredibly mean to your friends, especially Tris, but you couldn't help how you felt.

There was one night in particular that changed everything. You couldn't sleep, so you sat on your bed. Your eyes were immediately pulled towards Peter's bed across the room, where the boy himself tossed and turned, similarly unable to sleep.

You put your shoes on before approaching his bed. “Hey, do you wanna take a walk? I can't sleep. It seems like you can't, either. We could just walk in silence... I just want some company.” You whispered.

He was quick to accept your offer, much to your surprise. In a few moments you were both crossing the transferred initiates' dorm. You cast a look upon Drew and Al's empty beds, but payed it no mind as you and Peter sneaked off onto the dark hallways of the Dauntless headquarters.

"So..." Peter started the conversation, to your delight. "Do you usually have the urge to sneak off the dorms and go on walks with your arch-nemesis in the middle of the night?"

His words made you chuckle. "No. Only you, I suppose." You teased. If the hallways weren't dipped into darkness, you would've been able to see the faint blush rushing to his cheeks due to your comment.

After that, you pretty much talked about everything. About your life before Dauntless, about the families you left behind, about your hopes and fears for the future. You were amazed by how funny, vulnerable and good he could be once he let his walls down. So, when he leaned in to kiss you right as you were telling him about the painted ceiling of your old bedroom back home, you didn't really opose to it.

You decided to keep your relationship secret, at least for a little while. You knew your friends wouldn't be too thrilled with the idea of you dating Peter Hayes.

Especially because, as you'd find out the next morning, Drew and Al had sexually harassed Tris, and also tried to kill her, on that very same night. You couldn't believe your own ears; how could Al, such a sweet boy, do that to his own friend?

It became pretty clear to you that Tris was convinced Drew was only doing Peter's bidding, and Al just came along for the ride. You knew that wasn't true - you noticed the disgusted glint in Peter's eyes when he found out what his alleged friend had done. But there was no way you could change Tris' mind.

Your relationship was filled with discreet, longing glances across the room at lunch, dates in the middle of the night and little notes left in your pockets, telling you how beautiful you looked and how much he missed you. Peter even stopped coming after Tris and the rest of your friends; he couldn't do that to you.

Being with you made him want to be a better person, made him want to fight the darkness within him so he could be the man you deserved.

You were so excited when you passed the initiation in third place - Tris was first and Peter was, obviously, second - that you hugged him without even thinking, in front of everyone, and he was so thrilled that you were willing to be seen with him that he didn't really mind.

Your friends inquired you about your relationship with him after that, about his intentions. Yes, they had noticed Peter's sudden shift in behaviour after you began dating, but that didn't erase all the horrible things he did before.

After you explained everything, you could see the glint of forgiveness in Tris' eyes. She was very happy that you found love, even if it was with him, and the rest or your friends soon followed in her steps and congratulated you.

That was the night you exchanged your first 'I love you's. As fate would have it, that night would also be remembered by History as the night Chicago's experiment turned into a massacre.

When my depression works the graveyard shift

All of the people I've ghosted stand there in the room

Peter closed his eyes, his hold on the letter only tightening slightly as he recalled the events of that fateful night. He remembered being confused as he saw everyone, including a very clumsy Tris, march out of the dorms with soldier like movements.

However, the image that would stick to his brain whenever he remembered that night would be of your soulless eyes looking past him as if he didn't even exist.

The following hours were a bit hazy in his mind. Peter had no idea what was happening, why all of his colleagues were leaving the premises heavily armed, looking like mindless puppets.

But when one of the Dauntless highest class members approached him and told him to guard the halls of the headquarters, it became pretty clear to him that he would be dead if he didn't oblige. And then he would never see you again.

As he roamed the halls, holding his gun tightly with both hands, his mind drifted towards you. He was afraid of so many things. He was afraid of how the city would be once it was all over. He was afraid of getting shot, of being unable to live to see another day.

And yet, his biggest fear was that you would be hurt. He feared that you would be killed, that you'd be another body lying still in the streets full of corpses, mostly from Abnegation.

He didn't know when he would see you again, if he would see you again. The fear and the anxiety of not knowing anything clawed at his insides, begging him to do something other than comply to the enemies' orders. But he couldn't act on his impulses, not without a good plan. So he waited.

When Tris marched into the Dauntless corridors with Caleb, Marcus, and her father, Peter couldn't be more relieved. Maybe she knew where you were, if you were safe.

That relief quickly evaporated once Tris, under the impression that Peter had gladly and willingly allied himself with the enemy, shot him in the arm and dragged him at gunpoint towards the simulation control room, where Four was operating under the influence of the divergent serum.

Peter wasn't too happy to be following Tris and Four to the Amity compound, but he did need to get his wound taken care of. Although all of that was forgotten once he saw you, alive and well, standing next to Johanna Reyes, the leader of the Amity section.

He ran towards you, enveloping you in the tightest hug he could muster. His bullet wound was hurting like hell, yes, but the feeling of you in his arms, again? Nothing could beat it. So, when you felt your neck get wet from the desperate tears running down his face, you only placed a kiss to his temple and stroke the back of his head. He was finally in your arms again. He was finally home.

Your reunion, although emotional, was short lived. Soon the Erudite and the Dauntless traitors invaded the Amity headquarters in order to arrest the Divergents and you parted ways once more - while you had managed to escape with Tris, Four, Caleb and Susan, Peter and Marcus remained behind.

You were devastated. How cruel fate was, to bring you together only to pull you apart, over and over again. You didn't even know if he was alive. Therefore, when you arrived at the Factionless sector, you felt like a big piece of you was missing.

Peter, on the other hand, had nowhere to go after his near encounter with death. He didn't know where you were, nor did he have any friend that he could track down. His only choice was to go back to the Erudite section and beg Jeanine Matthew's to trust him.

He could barely mask his disgust of the spineless woman, but little by little he gained her trust. She thought she could take advantage of his poor little soul, that he was alone in this world with no one else to trust. Oh, how wrong she was.

It was only when Tris surrended to the Erudite and was held captive in their headquarters that you caught wind of Peter's stay in the Erudite headquarters.

You wrote him a letter, the letter he held in his very hands right now, begging him to come home. To save Tris and Tobias, to betray the cruel Jeanine and to come back to you.

And so he mustered a plan. With Cara's help he switched the death serum with a paralytic one, saving Tris from execution and successfully escaping with her and Four. The proud look in your eyes when the three joined you in the Abnegation factor was one he'd never forget. In that moment, he felt invencible.

He felt like he could beat the voice within him that implored for him to succumb to darkness. He felt like he could, finally, be deserving of you.

I should not be left to my own devices

They come with prices and vices

I end up in crisis (tale as old as time)

Peter didn't want you to come with them to the city's limits at first. Only God knew what they would find beyond them, what the world would be like outside of the chaotic Chicago.

But you had been separated so many times before that you couldn't even bare the thought of being left behind in the messed up city while he walked towards the unknown. What would you do if he never returned? If he died, or if he simply found someone else and decided to abandon you?

Therefore you insisted upon going. You wanted to be there for him, for your friends, no matter what was waiting for all of you on the other side of the rusty old train tracks that marked the end of your city, of your whole world. Up until now.

Whatever your group was hoping to find on this expedition, it surely wasn't this. It wasn't the Bureau of Genetic Welfare waiting for you. It wasn't the revelation that all of you, except Tris and maybe Four, were genetically damaged and were isolated from the world with the sole purpose of healing.

It wasn't the knowledge that the government had been watching your actions the entire time, not doing anything while the inhabitants of Chicago killed each other by Jeanine's command.

On nights like this, when he couldn't sleep, Peter could feel the anger overtaking his body. How dare the Bureau stand by watching while multiple lives were being destroyed? How dare they call them damaged and lock them up on the city, disconnecting them from the whole world?

How dare they sit and observe his entire life, completing riping him of his privacy? The privacy of his first kiss, the privacy of his mourning for his fellow classmates and strangers that were murdered in cold blood.

That's why he always brought your letter with him on his late night walks. Your written words soothe him, strip him from his fury towards the Bureau, towards the world.

He can feel his eyes starting to close, sleep slowly dominating his body, so he promptly returns to the dorms. He can feel a smile forming on his lips as he finds you peacefully asleep in your bed - you always looked cute when you slept. Peter carefully slid under the cover next to you, leaning his body against yours. You were his anchor, his home, and he couldn't wish for more.

You woke up at the first signs of dawn, when the sun rays emerged through the windows. A sleepy smile formed on your lips once you took notice of Peter's arms around your waist. You turn around in his arms, planting a delicate kiss on the tip of his nose before carefully getting up. You did your best not to wake him, knowing he was probably tired from his nightly walk.

Despite his best efforts to conceal his angry thoughts from you, you knew what was going on in his head. You knew he resented what you discovered outside the city you've known your whole life. You knew he felt betrayed - of course he did, and so did the rest of you.

And you knew all his wrath was keeping him up at night. You desperately wanted to help him, to comfort him, but you decided it was better to give him some space. You waited patiently for him to come to you, to vent about your current situation. But he never did.

You noticed curiously how Uriah's bed was neatly arranged, despite it being very early. Christina's bed was also empty, you realized. You knew they were getting close lately, a little too close to be just 'friends', and you were very happy for them. After all they went through, with Christina losing Will and Uriah losing Marlene, they deserved to find love again.

You left the provisorial dorms provided to you and your friends by the Bureau while you decided whether you wanted to stay in the facilities or return to Chicago.

You made your way to the cafeteria, humming to whatever song was playing on the Bureau's radio, praying that Peter was finally resting well.

I wake up screaming from dreaming

One day I'll watch as you're leaving

And life will lose all its meaning

For the last time

A few hours later, you were making your way back to the dorms when you heard a guttural scream that sounded a lot like Peter echoing through the room. You rushed towards his bed; luckily enough, everyone was already up and wandering, so it was only the two of you.

“Pete, love, wake up.” You said lovingly as you gently shook his trembling frame. Once his eyes opened and you could see how glossy they were, a few tears already escaping and cascading down his face, your heart broke in two. “It was just a nightmare, everything is okay. I'm right here.”

Your presence seemed to calm him slightly, but flashes from his nightmare kept plaguing his mind. Deep down, he knew it was only a manifestation of his fear; but it felt so real... Your figure, lying lifeless and cold on the ground, seemed so real to him.

He knew his life would lose all its meaning if you weren't in it. Before you, he was ruthless. He was cruel. The only thing he was interested in was coming in first place in everything, even if he had to push people down to get there.

After you... Well, he was a whole different person. You saved him without even knowing he needed to be saved. You made him want to be better, want to be kind. Without you, he was absolutely sure he would be lost.

He couldn't even bare the thought of you leaving him, it was way too painful. But the thought of you dying in his arms while he was completely helpless? That fucking broke his heart, shattered it into a million little pieces.

“Promise me you'll never leave me.” He requested, his voice trembling as you gently wiped away the tears that continued to roll down his cheek. “Please, that's the only thing I'm asking.”

You sat down next to him on the small bed and he immediately threw himself into your open arms, your caresses on his brown curls soothing him. “I know you're afraid of what might happen while we're here, or if we go back to the city. But believe in one thing, I won't go away. Even if I died, I'd come back to haunt your ass.”

Your words made him chuckle, feeling alright for the first time in what felt like forever. Your reassurance melted his heart and he pulled you down so you were lying next to him, snuggling his body closer to yours and letting you rest your head on his chest.

It's me, hi, I'm the problem it's me

At tea time, everybody agrees

It had been a few weeks since Peter's nightmare and things were slowly starting to get better. You often woke up in the middle of the night and found Peter sleeping next to you, his chest slowly rising up and down.

Despite how calm everything around you seemed, you sensed something coming, something big. And, in an apparently random thursday, that something did indeed arrive.

You were outside of the Bureau, training with Tris and Four to keep your combat skills in good shape, while Peter was in the dorm getting dressed after awaking from a well-deserved nap.

As he tied the laces of his black combat boots, a loud ring echoed through his mind, interrupting his actions. His head was throbbing, sending shockwaves of pain through his body, and he sat back down on his bed.

That's when he'd heard it. “Hey, Peter. Guess who finally found you? " Evelyn's voice rang to his head, and his eyes widened.

Shit, he thought, as he recalled the Dauntless graduation day, when Eric had injected the serum on all of the initiates. His hadn't been activated on the night of the massacre, it was true, but he still had it flowing through his veins, and Evelyn could've easily found a way to activate it, or at least to communicate with him through it.

"Didn't know you had the guts to run away, Hayes. It must be exhausting having to live with people who hate you. " Evelyn spoke once more.

“Shut up!" Peter yelled out loud in response. "You don't know anything about me!"

"Sure I do." Evelyn replied. "I know your little girlfriend is with you. It would be a shame if she was suddenly attacked out there by one of my soldiers, wouldn't it?"

Peter took a deep breath, trying to calm his speeding heart and his growing nerves. Tightly closing his trembling hand in a fist, he muttered. "You wouldn't dare."

"Do you really think I wouldn't?" She questioned, but continued before he even had time to answer. "What if we made a deal? You do one little thing for me and I won't kill your girlfriend. How does that sound?"

He thought carefully about his next move. The last thing he wanted was to be under that evil woman's command. But, then again, he couldn't risk losing you. "What do I have to do?" Peter asked, his voice no louder than a whisper.

I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror

It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero

Peter's gun pointed forward towards an all-familiar enemy - Tris -, hands shaking in fear, an aching regret spreading rapidly through his chest like a burning fire.

He doesn't want to do this at all, but it's what's expected of him. It's what Evelyn expects of him, to be a good little puppet. It's what everyone expects of him, to be a villain, to betray the hero in the end. But not you.

No, you don't see him as the villain, like everyone else. If anything, you see him as a hero in his own way. An anti-hero of sorts.

A salty tear slides down his face at the thought of you; what would you say if you saw him like this? Would you be angered by his actions? Would you be disappointed? Would you leave him, like everyone else?

He didn't notice as you walked into the room, your doe eyes falling upon his figure. Your heart started beating faster, but not by anger or fear of him. No, you feared for him.

You feared he would do something he'd regret. You feared the guilt that would soon after invade his brain, filling him with melancholia. But above all else, you feared what would happen if he didn't press the trigger, you feared your friends' reaction.

So you rushed towards him and hugged him from behind. He didn't need to turn around to see it was you. Every bone, every fiber in his body recognized your scent, your embrace.

“You don't need to do this.” You whispered in his ear, tightening your hold on him to remind him that you would always be there.

And so he let go of all the cruel expectations and the ridiculous anger that were sewed into his soul from the moment he was born. With a loud bang, his pistol fell to the marble floor, and he turned around only to bury himself in your embrace.

In front of you, Tris sighed in relief, her face twisting into a somewhat empathic expression. On her left side, Four visibly relaxed, his hands moving to rest on her shoulders.

Peter hadn't realized it, but more tears were now cascading down his face, loud sobs escaping his lips as one of your hands caressed his hair.

“Everything's okay. You're okay.” You muttered. And, for the first time in his life, he believed it. He didn't give a shit about Evelyn or her threats anymore; as long as you were with him, he would always protect you.

[celestialmantdonna]

In other circumstances, Quill would've tuned out, possibly inadvertently or possibly deliberately, after Raminas apologized to him. But after what happened, he needed to find out how many connections Vossler had.

In any case, there was clearly a history of turning a blind eye to Vossler's behavior. Star-Lord wasn't Dalmascan, but he had actually listened when Basch and Soryn discussed this matter back at the tavern. These people knew Vossler, not him. Was anyone really surprised that he thought he could get away with more and more until he saw himself as practically untouchable? The King was taking action now that Vossler's actions threatened to bring Dalmasca down with him.

He frowned slightly when Raminas appeared to blame Basch for the actions of Vossler. While it was true that at present Quill didn't trust Basch as much as he initially did, that didn't make him guilty. He wanted to open his mouth to speak in defense of Basch, but Caelen beat him to it. Apparently the King feared the might of the Kingdom of Missouri, and Quill's eyebrows shot up before he blinked. Sure, the weather in Missouri was crazy, at least from what he recalled, but–

His head lowered when Prince Caelen stated what Vossler had tried to do to the Princess. Raminas' reaction was positively infuriating. Impure? Quill wasn't a father. He wasn't even sure he was an adult personality-wise, but if he had a child (preferably with Gamora) he would do anything to keep them safe. Yet the King was worried about... bullshit. All of it.

This was a weird-ass planet.

When Raminas stripped Basch of his title, prompting Soryn and Caelen to protest, Quill's jaw dropped as he tried to comprehend the King's twisted 'logic'. Dismissing the reports of the guilty and punishing the innocent was a choice. Maybe it made sense according to Dalmasca's law, but if that were the case, Caelen and Soryn wouldn't look as unhappy as they did. Raminas couldn't risk a public trial? Are you shitting me right now? How much shit had been swept under the rug all these years?

Peter Quill's life had always been intertwined with the light. The colorful lights of the music performances he used to watch on TV. The dim lights of the hospital's waiting room. The blinding light of Yondu's M-Ship, right before Quill was abducted as a child. The purple glow of the Power Stone before he grabbed it with his bare hands, before the Guardians taught him how to share pain. The celestial light he had inherited from Ego. The light of the explosions as the Guardians obliterated Ego's planet, the lights of Yondu's funeral. The soft light of the stars the Guardians often gazed at. The light they saw earlier right before they landed. And now, the white light that flooded the throne room as the creature that saved Mantis revealed themselves.

Quill suspected that they were real the second Basch said he didn't think the Prince was crazy, but he didn't expect Munoh to show themselves to the King like that. He couldn't help but agree with everything Munoh said, and once they were done speaking, he cleared his throat.

"Munoh," he said as politely as he could. "I want to personally thank you for helping my friend and teammate. We won't forget what you did for her. If we can repay you in any way, we will." Quill stepped closer to the being, unafraid. "But for now, I am trying to find out how many people are willing to work for sir Azelas. People like him usually have connections, 'cause they're major cowards who can't stand on their own, and... if any of you suspect anything, now's the time to tell me."

This isn't over, he thought apprehensively.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

This is far from over, Gamora told herself as she carefully refrained from pacing, picking at her nails, cracking her knuckles or engaging in any habit that could betray her worry in front of the Princess. She blinked when the girl explained that she was about to get married in just a few days. Ashelia didn't seem happy... nor in love. An arrangement, Gamora thought with sad sympathy, though not without detachment.

Mantis smiled when Ashelia showed interest in makeup, and she ushered her to the dressing table. She helped Ashelia sit before picking some eyeshadow – soft colors worked best on pale skin, so Mantis chose a lovely rose gold hue for Ashelia.

"Close your eyes," she told Ashelia before starting to gently apply the eyeshadow. She idly started to hum Surrender by Cheap Trick for a moment. "This will make your eyes stand out more. This color is soft, less intense than other hues, in case you do not want to draw excessive attention to yourself. It is a good start before you try out more vibrant colors. You can open your eyes now," she said with a smile.

Offering Ashelia the mascara, Mantis picked up another to apply it to her own eyes and show the Princess how to do it. "This is for your lashes. You might want to open your mouth slightly, because doing so will stretch our skin, making it easier to apply... Like this." Her lips parted slightly and Mantis applied mascara to her already long, thick lashes, letting Ashelia do it herself so she would actually learn. "It will make your lashes appear darker!"

Gamora watched from a side with her arms crossed. Maybe Ashelia could be trusted – she was endearing, but Gamora remained wary.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

The Benatar was quiet. Awfully quiet. The Guardians had taken the Zune, and the noises of Rocket raging and destroying everything in sight had died down. With visible exhaustion, he sat down and glanced at the havoc. He wanted to tire himself out so he wouldn't have the energy to attack anyone else. Because Basch asked him to 'calm down' as if that were possible. As if someone trying to take out your friend was a minor nuisance that could be handled calmly.

He hated this place. He hated the people in it. He hated Vossler and pathetic fucks like him, and he hated the way Basch had been clueless. Basch didn't know his own 'friends'. Rocket found it rather laughable.

He hated the way Mantis only responded to his anger with more acceptance and affection. He hated the way the Guardians didn't let him push them all away. He hated how much he cared about them. He hated how scared he was, not of them, but for them. He hated how they loved him even when he fucked up, especially when he fucked up.

He hated feeling so forlorn. So helpless. So powerless. Maybe he was laughable in a way as well. He hated that, too. Rocket hated many things. He hated most things. But above everything else, he hated that he couldn't hate the Guardians. No matter what they did, no matter what they said, he couldn't bring himself to hate them.

They seemed to understand Rocket even when he couldn't understand himself. He wasn't like that to be a jerk, he was like that to protect himself. They knew he was volatile, and rude, and angry... and they stuck around. Like idiots. Of course Rocket would feel the urge to kill anyone who tried to hurt them.

Eventually, he got up from his seat and stretched both arms over his head. He had shit to do and even more shit to fix.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

The lizards were nice, but Groot was starting to get bored. Drax was quiet. Drax was always quiet whenever bad things happened to Mantis. The Kylosian warrior stared into space stoically, and Groot didn't understand why. He approached Drax, climbing onto his shoulder and placing his tiny hands on Drax's cheek.

"Sleep!" Groot exclaimed. He frowned when he realized it didn't work – if Mantis could do that, surely he could do it as well, right? "Sleep! Now! Sleep, Drax," he insisted, but it was futile.

Drax's booming laughter erupted from his throat, and Groot made an angry face.

"Don't laugh!"

"What are you doing, child?"

"I'm bored. Help me catch a lizard!"

"You need to learn how to hunt by yourself," Drax said solemnly.

Groot blinked.

"Hunt?"

"Yes."

"I don't wanna hunt them! I wanna play with them." The young Guardian stilled, then thought for a moment. Maybe he should learn how to hunt. A mischievous smile appeared on his face as he hopped down from Drax's shoulder. "Don't move, I'll be right back. I have to pee!"

Groot was tiny, small enough to make others look like giants, but he was brave and he loved his friends. And so the young Flora colossus started to wander, looking for the dungeons.

Another Time, Another Place (A Hollow Universe In Space) || closed with tarnishedxknight

@tarnishedxknight continued from here

The Guardians stood there, letting Captain Basch formally introduce them to King Raminas. They all then bowed respectfully except for Rocket, who only did so because Gamora pushed his head down. They trusted Basch for the most part, as he assured them no one would hurt them after telling them to leave their weapons at the ship. Quill and Gamora were the first ones to leave theirs; Drax didn't want to leave his knives, but did so after Mantis looked at him, while Rocket pulled a comical amount of retractable weapons from his pockets.

As they followed Basch, Mantis had stayed behind for a moment to approach Vossler. She felt much better after Munoh sent her some calm energy, and she smirked at the man. Suddenly, her hand was on his cheek, her antennae aglow. "Whenever you open your mouth to say something unkind, you will wail like a baby. Honestly, it might be more coherent than anything else you have said," she whispered. She patted his cheek twice as if to seal her whimsical behest, and hurried to follow the Guardians as Basch guided them through the palace of Rabanastre.

Quill straightened and cleared his throat to speak to the King. Mantis took his hand; Quill was a little confused, but he allowed it since he knew she wasn't feeling great.

"Your Majesty," he said, once again lowering his voice in an attempt to mirror Basch's formal tone and presence, hoping it would make the King like him more. "We come in peace. We thank you for your time, and we apologize for occupying one of your docks. I think I have–" He stopped talking rather suddenly, and swallowed. "Uh... I think... I have..."

What was happening was that Mantis was frantically reading his thoughts as he spoke, using her powers to interrupt him because he was going to say he had the perfect stuff to make up for it, wanting to show the King some Terran music with the Zune. While Terran music was excellent, Mantis knew not everyone would like it, nor find it an acceptable form of apology.

"I have no excuse," Quill said instead. "And I have to... shut up... now."

[confused-pyramid]

We'll Be Okay

pairing: tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

summary: A series of snapshots through your relationship with Peter.

word count: 4.2k

warnings: SMUT, p in v, oral (f!receiving), slight bondage, angst, andrew garfield's puppy dog eyes

Peter was watching you again. To his credit, he was being more discreet than usual, but you could always tell when his eyes were on you. Sneaking a glance down the hall, you hid your smile as you watched him try to 'act natural', which somehow always landed him in the same position: staring at the closed door of his locker.

You grabbed the textbook you needed for your next class and zipped your book bag, before walking down the hall towards him. You had been waiting for him to buck up the nerve to make a move on you, but sometimes you just had to take the initiative yourself.

He had gotten so into his cover that he almost didn't notice when you sashayed right up to him, your undone hair flipping over your shoulder.

"What are you doing Friday?" you asked abruptly, giving him a pointed look.

He didn't seem to hear you at first, but after realizing it was you, he snapped to alert, stammering, "Huh, what? Wait-"

"Friday," you repeated, enunciating a bit more as amusement started to seep into your expression.

His mouth fell open slightly, but then he nodded quickly, so entranced by you that he couldn't seem to remove his eyes from yours. "Friday? Oh, nothing, nothing at all." 

"Perfect. Pick me up at 7."

You spun on your heel and strutted past him, looking straight ahead as you left him to piece together what just happened. It took him a moment, but once he finally regained his sense of self, he cursed under his breath and called out, "I was gonna do that myself."

You turned back slightly, a smirk creeping onto your face. "Sure you were."

***

It was 7:30pm on Friday, and Peter was officially thirty minutes late. You had been waiting outside of your house for just as long, and after your Dad came outside to check on you for the second time, you had about had enough.

You stood up and stuffed your phone in your clutch, climbing back up your porch steps, when you heard the rustle of footsteps down the street.

"I'm here!" Peter's voice announced frantically from across the sidewalk as he appeared in a hoodie and jeans. "I'm so sorry I'm late."

Your brow furrowed with irritation, but his disheveled appearance transformed your annoyance to concern. "Peter, are you doing okay?"

"Yeah," he nodded, his breaths coming out in pants, like he'd been running. "I'm great. Well, not great, because I made you wait for so long. Which I'm so so sorry about, did I say that?"

"You did," you said slowly, still trying to decide if you were going to forgive him. He seemed pretty apologetic, but you didn't know him well enough to know if this was just an act.

"Okay, good," he said sincerely, his big puppy-dog eyes melting what was left of your will. "I really want to take you to dinner...if you'll still have me."

You let out a long breath, before rolling your eyes good-naturedly. Without a word, you held your hand out and he took it with a wide smile that made you laugh.

Peter was thanking every greater being he could think of as he led you down the street and into the city. He had no idea how you decided to forgive him, especially considering the fact that you still had no idea why he was late tonight.

He suspected you thought he simply lost track of time, or maybe even forgot about the date, but those scenarios were almost less fathomable to him than what actually happened. 

He had been on his way to pick you up when he heard a woman scream in an alleyway, so he had (albeit begrudgingly) pulled on the Spiderman suit and saved her from being mugged. He would've only been a few minutes late if the woman hadn't suddenly passed out in his arms, forcing him to swing her to the nearest hospital on 7th and 48th. 

But now he was here with you, and you looked so beautiful he could cry, and your hand was so warm in his, he never wanted to let it go.

"I'm assuming we lost our reservation," you said jokingly, but he could hear the note of sadness in your voice that cut him to the core.

"I have something better," he told you, his eyes searching yours as you nodded back at him. "Let's turn here."

He led you into the city and to a tall building that he assumed was owned by some New York corporation. All he knew was that its rooftop housed a manmade garden that felt like the perfect viewpoint for a starry evening like tonight.

He was about to point out the building when you glanced around, your stomach rumbling quietly. "Do you wanna get some food first?"

Shit, all the stupid plans for the garden and I forgot food.

Peter rubbed a hand over his face, groaning. "I'm such an idiot, I forgo-"

You cut him off with a bright smile. "Let's get hotdogs! There's a place I've always wanted to try, but never got around to."

"Are you sure?" he asked, feeling shame wash over him again as he took in your pretty sundress. "We can go somewhere nicer. I'm sure something's open."

"No, it's okay," you smiled genuinely, grabbing his hand and leading him to a hotdog stand around the corner. "My dad says their relish tastes like how it felt when the Yankees won the World Series."

He laughed, the sound a low rumble in his chest, and pulled out his wallet. "Wow, must be some hotdog."

He bought one for you and one for himself, covering both in every topping on the menu. When you finally followed him into the office building and up the elevator, you were floored by the view that greeted you.

"Peter, this is incredible!" you gasped, your words garbled as you chewed the huge bite you just took.

He laughed, his eyes drifting over to land on you as always. 

The stars reflected in your eyes as you took in the skyline before you, delighting in how the lights were always on somewhere. The city really never slept. 

"Thank you for bringing me here," you whispered, your voice coming out like a contented sigh. "I've lived here my whole life, and I've never seen the city from this high up before."

"New York is always better from above," he said wistfully, as if he was thinking about something far away. "The city can't hide in plain sight. You can see the good and the bad, but at least it's real."

You turned to look at him, surprised by his vulnerability, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw his eyes. His big, brown eyes.

His body started to lean in closer, and it almost felt like he wasn't doing it consciously. Like he was just drawn to you, two magnets with opposing polarity. 

His skin was so warm, and you could feel the heat permeating off him before he was even touching you, but once his hand lifted up to touch your cheek, you knew you were done for.

His lips met yours in a soft embrace, and you leaned into the kiss, your heart doing a flip as he laced his fingers through your silky hair.

Peter's pulse was going haywire as your lips softened against his, a gentle sigh leaving your mouth as he ran his thumb along your jaw. He wanted to keep kissing you forever, but he knew it was too soon for that, so he used every fiber of strength in his body to pull himself back.

Your eyes blinked open when his lips left yours, and you couldn't help the smile that etched its way across your face. He looked back at you with the purest expression of joy and contentment you'd ever seen, before flashing you an awkward smile that had you holding back a laugh.

Turning your attention back to the view, you smoothed down your dress before sitting on the grassy platform, taking in the faded stars as Peter sat down next to you.

"How on Earth did you find this place?" you asked, your mouth parted with awe.

"Oh," he muttered, stumbling over his words, "uh, I just swung by it one day."

***

It was your one month anniversary when you found out Peter was Spiderman. It was quite possibly the most inexplicable reveal you could have imagined, especially since you had been starting to suspect something was off with him for a while. 

You were walking to school one morning, following your usual route, when you came across a particularly busy crosswalk. You were running late, so, going against every advisement your father had ever given you, you rushed into the street, not bothering to look both ways. 

This was your unlucky (or was it lucky) day, and you didn't notice the car speeding towards you, the driver's attention occupied by their phone. By the time you realized what was about to happen, it was too late, and you squeezed your eyes shut in some effort to shield yourself from the impact...which never arrived.

Instead, you were suddenly lifted into the air, a strong arm wrapped around your waist as you swung across the street, air whooshing past your ears.

You could barely hear the scream that ripped out of you as you flew past the office buildings on either side, and you didn't open your eyes until your feet were carefully dropped to the ground.

The first thing you saw was a flash of red and blue as the lean form of Spiderman shot a web into the air, preparing to swing away again.

"Wait!" you called out, stopping him in his tracks. "I need to thank you!"

He leaped down from the building wall, his feet landing much more gracefully than yours did. You waited for him to say something, but when you were met with silence, you spoke up again.

"Well, thank you," you said awkwardly, unsure of how to properly convey your gratitude. "You saved my life."

He nodded, clearly antsy to continue on his way. You didn't want to keep him longer than he wanted, so you just dipped your head and said, "I should go. But thanks again."

You turned away, smoothing down your clothes and hair, and were about to walk off to school when his low voice sounded from behind you. "Be careful around here. I can see everything from up above, but it can be harder to see the bad guys on the ground."

His voice was gruff, as if he was trying to make it deeper, but what struck you the most were his words. They sounded almost familiar, but you couldn't place them.

Glancing back at him, you nodded once more and headed down the street, his statement pinballing around your brain. You were almost on the school grounds when most of the adrenaline had left your body and the significance of his words finally clicked into place.

***

Peter was late. He would take saving your life over no detention any day of the week, but he couldn't afford to be too late to your shared first period, lest you notice something awry.

But for once he had underestimated you. All through class, you didn't meet his eye, and once the bell rang, he raced into the hall after you, but you were no where to be found. Dejected, he stuffed his things into his bag and headed down to his locker, but before he could make it, he felt a hand grab his and yank him into the janitor's closet.

"What the-"

He cut off when he saw your face in front of his, your expression sharp.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" he asked with a smirk, trying to lighten whatever trouble he was surely in.

"Don't joke," you said sternly, making him close his mouth. "Tell me the truth, Peter."

He faltered. "About what?"

"Don't," you shot him a look, "make me smack you, Parker."

You looked so certain that he knew nothing he said would make you change your mind. "How did you know?"

You shot him another look, this one less angry and more disbelieving. 

"Okay, so I wasn't exactly subtle about it."

"Why didn't you tell me you're Spiderman?" you asked, your voice smaller than before. "I mean, you have a double life, and you literally made a suit, and I've just been in the dark."

He pressed his lips together, reaching across the small space that separated you. "I didn't want you to get hurt. Trust me, I've been on the verge of telling you for weeks."

"You better not lie to me ever again, Parker," you said sternly, your lips forming a small pout.

Peter pulled you into a tight hug. "I won't. Believe me, I won't."

"Even if you did," you mumbled, your face pressing into his collarbone, "I'd just figure it out again."

He laughed, giving you a quick squeeze, before letting go to open the door. "I have no doubt you would."

He let you out before him, pulling the door closed, but then you turned back, your brows furrowed quizzically. 

"Does this mean you know how to sew?"

***

Three months into your relationship, your only fights had been related to Spiderman. More specifically, whenever Spiderman invaded Peter Parker's life. 

It was a chilly evening when you heard a tap on your bedroom window. Your room was on the second floor, and there was only one person who it could be, so you shook your head with a laugh and called out, "You know you can use the door, right?"

You didn't get a response, so you turned around to see Peter, battered and bruised, as he struggled to hold himself up against your stoop. 

You gasped, rushing to the window and wrenching it open, before helping him into your room.

"What happened?" you asked, your throat tightening with tears as you catalogued every bruise mottling his skin. "Are you okay?"

"I'm great," he breathed as he lowered himself to the ground, his voice gruff. "I just really wanted to see you."

You pressed your lips together, trying to hold back the pain and frustration that was brewing. "I'll grab the first aid kit."

You returned with bandages and an ice pack to find him flopped onto your bed, his head swallowed by your massive pillows. He helped you peel off his suit and then held the ice pack to his cheekbone, which was slowly turning a deep shade of mauve.

You were biting the inside of your lip as you surveyed the damage, and you were so focused that you barely felt it when Peter's hand came up to cup your cheek.

"Baby, I'm fine," he said, his voice trying to be reassuring.

"I know!" you burst out, before taking a deep breath and controlling your tone. "But there will come one day when you won't be."

Your voice broke slightly at the end and Peter felt like his heart was breaking with it. He didn't know what to say, but then he saw the wetness in your eyes overflow, and he reached forward by pure instinct.

The bruises along his ribs screamed out in pain, but he pushed it down, gathering you in his arms and pressing his face into your neck.

"You keep putting yourself in danger," you continued, your voice slightly muffled through your hair. "I'm terrified all the time."

Pulling back just enough to see your face, he swiped his thumb across your cheek, wiping away the tears. "I'm sorry. I know it's dangerous, but I've helped so many people. I can't just stop when people here need me."

"I know, Peter!" you said frantically, your eyes widening slightly. "But I fucking love you and I can't bear to see you hurt!"

Wait, did you just-

Despite the situation absolutely not calling for it, he cracked a smile, unable to stop the grin eating at his face. "I wanted to say it first."

You snorted, the wetness in your voice still audible. "Well, I always did have more game than you."

You let out a small shriek as Peter grabbed you around the waist, pulling you against his body as he fell back on the bed. His rumbling laughter vibrated against your chest and you extricated your arms from his to gain some leverage. Pressing against your covers, you pushed yourself up into a sitting position until you were straddling his waist, his hands resting lightly on your hips. 

The laughter slowly faded from his eyes as he caught sight of your tongue darting out to wet your lips, your eyes never leaving his.

"I love you too," he said suddenly, realizing he hadn't said it back yet. "It was never a question."

Being careful not to push against his bruises too much, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, a soft sound sighing out of your mouth as he brought your bodies closer together. You didn't want to hurt him, but he didn't seem to care, and instead flipped you over, his long form arching over yours as he peppered your jaw with kisses that left you breathless.

Peter couldn't believe this was all real. He couldn't believe you felt for him even a semblance of what he felt for you, but now that he knew you did, he never wanted to let go of you. 

Sliding his hands down your body, he splayed his fingers across your lower back and lifted you up slightly, trying to get you as close as humanly possible. With his suit half-off, you were much more clothed than he was. He fidgeted with the hem of your top until you nodded, gasping against his mouth.

Yanking the top off a bit harder than he meant to, he heard the distinct sound of tearing fabric as it landed in a heap on the ground.

You pulled back slightly, mouth agape, as he shot you an apologetic look. "Peter Parker, you better buy me a new shirt."

"I'll buy you anything you want," he whispered, pressing wet kisses to your pulse and the sensitive spot under your ear.

The heat from his mouth had you practically vibrating, and you completely forgot about your torn clothes as you pulled down his suit the rest of the way, revealing his sizable bulge.

Your mouth watered with anticipation and you got a little too excited, pressing your palm against him as he ran his tongue down the valley of your breasts. He was unhooking your bra when he suddenly pulled back, a pained expression on his face.

"Y/n, baby, please," he gasped, leaning his forehead against yours. "You gotta stop that if you want to do anything else tonight."

You felt the corner of your mouth quirk up and you pulled him down for a hard kiss. "Oh yeah? Like what?"

He seemed to take this as a challenge and you let out a squeal as he pushed you to the top of your bed and tugged your pants down, your panties going along with them. 

He took his time, working his way down your body, but you were getting impatient, and you tugged his hair, trying to get him to hurry up. 

"Someone's antsy," he smirked up at you, a glint in his eye. "Don't make me use my webs."

He probably expected you to laugh or smack him, but your arousal must have shown on your face, because his demeanor suddenly changed and a hunger replaced the amusement in his eyes. "You like the sound of that, don't you?"

You nodded slightly, embarrassment creeping into the flush of your cheeks.

That was all he needed. Before you could blink, he lifted his wrist and your hands were bound to the bed frame behind you. Your back arched as you got acclimated to the new position, and Peter dipped his head between your thighs while you weren't paying attention.

You cried out, the feeling of his mouth on you almost too much to bear. His movements were precise and confident, and you found yourself wondering whether this skill had come from experience or just a natural ability.

But every thought flew from your mind when his lips closed around your clit, sucking and licking as your body writhed against him, your hands straining against the webs. 

"Peter, I want you inside me," you gasped, surprising yourself with your unabashed honesty. 

He looked up at you, arousal dripping down his chin, and his pupils blown out so his eyes looked almost black. You could have come from just the image of him staring back at you, but then his mouth met yours and you felt a renewed desire to finish around him.

"You're perfect," he whispered into your mouth as he unsheathed himself and pushed into you, his motions slow and measured.

Your hands were still bound, but his were moving across your body, his fingers dancing across your breasts and torso as he kept you writhing underneath him. His movements picked up as you contracted around him, a loud moan escaping your mouth.

"Just like that," he grunted, hitting the same spot deep inside you, as his fingers slid down to play with your clit.

The combination of his fingers and cock turned your vision black, and you flew over the edge, his name on your lips. The feeling of you squeezing him sent Peter to his release, and he gasped into your mouth, his movements unrelenting until you had fully come down.

When you finally returned to reality, the webs were gone, and you pulled him down to lay next to you, his arms holding you to him.

"I really fucking love you," he muttered into your hair, nestling against you.

He really did have a way with words.

***

It was late into your senior year when it seemed like it would be the end. You had narrowed down your options for college, and with every pro-con list you made, it looked more and more like you would be attending a university in California.

For Peter, it had never even been a question. He had always been set on going to college in New York so that he could be close to his Aunt May, and that intention had only gotten stronger after the death of his Uncle Ben.

You had been feeling the strain on your relationship for weeks now, and every time one of you brought up college, both of your faces dropped and the conversation suddenly ran dry. 

Peter came over most nights, after he had finished patrolling the streets, and one evening, on his usual stop at your window, you pulled him inside for a much-needed reality check.

"What's going on?" he asked as he pulled off his mask and settled into one of the armchairs by your desk.

You pursed your lips, unable to look at him. "We need to talk...about us."

"Y/n," he started, rising out of the chair, "don't say what I think you're going to say."

"We're going to be thousands of miles apart, Peter!" you cried out, your voice turning into a sob. "I don't want to do this anymore than you do, but we've known it was coming for a while now."

He shook his head and you felt your heart break apart. "No, I don't accept that. I love you and I know we can do this. But if you don't want to fight for us, then I'll know where you stand."

You blanched. "Peter, how could you think tha-"

He didn't wait for you to finish before he pulled his mask back on and stepped out of your window, swinging away in the blink of an eye.

***

You were heading home from your volunteer post at the local library when a streak of red swung past you, so fast you almost believed you had imagined it. 

That disbelief didn't last long, because next thing you knew, you were being scooped up and swung across the city.

A minute later, Peter gently dropped you on the roof of the building where you had your first date. 

You wrapped your arms around yourself, frowning as you turned away from the chill of the wind. "What do you want, Peter?"

He ripped his mask off, his eyes desperate. "I'm so sorry. I was...I was horrible, and I didn't mean any of it."

"But you still said it," you gritted out, your anger overruling the pain you felt at losing him so quickly. 

"I know," he admitted, his eyes swimming with remorse, "but I need to talk to you. Please let me say something."

You didn't respond and he took that as an invitation, taking your hands in his as he stepped down in front of you. "I love you, y/n. I always have. I always want what's best for you, but I also want you."

You met his eye then, seeing the sincerity that was so Peter. He was nothing if not truthful in his love for you.

"I want you too," you whispered, squeezing his hands. "Of course I do. But I also have goals and dreams and plans that I can't accomplish here."

His eyes turned down, and for a moment you were worried he was going to be mad, but then he jerked you forward and pulled you into his arms. 

This is the boy you fell in love with.

Peter ran a hand through your hair, his lips meeting your temple. "We'll be okay."

You tilted your head back to say something, anything, but he just held you tighter, pushing down the wetness in his voice. "Wherever we go, wherever we end up...we'll always be us. We'll be okay."

[astrogations]

I agree with your post about Peter so much. Honestly, I couldn't for the life of me understand that plan to cure the villains. It just felt so random. I mean, it's not like he had any connection whatsoever to these villains or knew anything about them or what they were like or what they'd done or even a reason to try and save them other than the whole "being a hero" thing. I mean, when Tobey and Andrew came into it, I still didn't like the curing villains thing but I at least understood it. Especially with Tobey!Peter and Osborn given how much his death impacted his life and friendship with Harry so him thinking about how he could have saved him and changed things in the past at least made a little sense but with MCU Peter, I can't even finish that because I just don't know. It didn't make any sense to me and just seemed like a plot device to get rid of May.

YOU'VE PUT SO MUCH OF MY SCRAMBLED THOUGHTS INTO WORDS ANON

Peter had absolutely no motivation for sure, even 'being a hero' didn't make sense when he was definitely doing more harm than good initially. They really needed an excuse to get all the Spidermen together imo.

I agree with you that it makes more sense for the other Spidermen to want to 'cure' the villains, and I think if THEY were the ones to introduce the idea and MCU Peter was helping them, it would've made a little more sense.

The MCU so often first picks some plot twist and then builds the plot around it rather than the other way around.

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 12

Click here if you are a first time reader.

Summary / TWs: Steve Rogers does not pass the vibe check yet again, le sad face. Loki is a good bro. Bruce fluff but what else is new? Literally everyone is a good bro, yo. Reader has best people. Tony's in there, kind of. Parents still suck.

For taglist: please send an ask if you changed your @! I noticed several people are unavailable :(

As always, my baby gay @miscmarvelwritings is the bestest beta!

"I think I am going to murder your father." Bucky's angry statement didn't surprise me. Neither did Steve's initial reaction, or anybody else's mostly pitying looks.

Bruce, my Bwucie, was calm and dejected. That worried me. I expected him to be at least a little bit green around the edges when Steve forcefully sat me down and made me explain the drunken, drugged stunt I'd done the night before, but alas, it seemed like Jolly Green was just sad. Or disappointed. And I didn't know which was worse.

The more I thought about it, the more defensive and abrasive I became. "And you'll kill yourself trying, he'll drive you fucking nuts" I responded to Barnes. "Honestly, I don't fucking see the problem here. My dad shows up five times a year at best. It's been like that forever. And it's not like I'm some kind of junkie," I defended myself, and my dad, because I really didn't see the huge deal about it. Relaxing once in a while doesn’t hurt anyone.

"It's not right!" Steve exclaimed, loosely banging a fist on the table. The self-righteous prick, seemed like he wanted to pick a fight just for the sake of it.

"And who are you, exactly, to say that? The moral police?" I blew up, standing and turning to the blonde man, hands on my hips. "Or you've decided to be my parent without asking me first? Keep your hopes up and maybe a fuck will magically appear, so I could give it to you."

He stood up in turn, getting uncomfortably close to my face. I was suddenly reminded of the fact that he was a very large, very strong man. "We want what's best for you! Can't you see it?" Rogers was getting red in the face, crossed arms, staring at me down like I was dirt under his shoes.

"How about..." I seethed, having to stop mid-sentence to swallow the scream that wanted to erupt. "How about... You FUCKING ask me what I want?"

"I suggest the Captain leave to go calm down," Loki suddenly piped up. He stayed silent throughout the whole conversation, picking at his food instead. Only after his sharply uttered words I noticed he had stood up. His hand hovered over my shoulder, body discreetly wedging between me and the Captain.

I heard Steve growl before he stormed off, throwing an annoyed look at Loki. A pregnant silence hung in the room. The longer it lasted, the more I wanted to crawl out of my skin, suddenly hyper aware of all these people - strangers, save a few - debating on what to do with me. Like I wasn't a person. Like...

"Ugh, fucking hell," I growled, beelining for my bag. I had definitely overstayed my welcome.

"Where are you going?" Bruce asked, standing up to follow.

"Home," I replied curtly, nodding my thanks to Loki for the intervention. He nodded back, walking off. I would have probably started swinging at the Icicle Dick if not for the raven haired Asgardian's timely interruption.

"I'll drive you," Banner trotted after me like a dejected puppy. I didn't have the mental capacity to deal with this, at all.

"I need to see Tony first. Meet you downstairs?"

Bruce nodded, looking even more confused.

Tony kissed me hungrily, in between promises to kill Steve and cancel my dad and get me my own apartment in the tower. Believing in fairy tales wasn't something I was ever prone to; I smiled, nodded along and did my best to shut him up with my own mouth on his. I left with the promise to text him as soon as I got home.

"How are you?" Bruce asked me as we once again drove through the busy city. This was becoming a nice habit but we really had to meet up when I wasn't going through another one of my turmoils.

"All things considered, I am great. Better than I've been in a while." I answered honestly, meaning it. However brief Tony's attention would be, it still satisfied me. Then and there I decided to always, always cherish what happened during my brief stint in his arms.

"Really?" Banner's warm smile was an unexpected but pleasant surprise. "Care to share?"

It threw me for a loop. I didn't know how much Tony wanted to disclose regarding what happened between us. I didn't know the extent of his friendship with Bruce. I didn't know...

"Tony," I choose the usual option. Admit what you can't deny, deny what you can't admit.

"I know the feeling," The good doctor chuckled, companionable-like and meaningful. "He tends to go all the way for the people he cares about. Too much, if you ask me."

"What do you mean?" I was confused. Sure, me and Tony were friends. But not, like, super close or anything. We'd fucked, or more like messed around, so I expected our friendship to grow colder. That's what happened when friends decided to bump uglies.

"I mean... He'll move mountains and challenge the government and bully them into dropping charges against you," There was a hint of sadness in Brucie's voice. I vaguely recalled seeing something on the news, something about the Hulk and a massive destruction spree. It didn't take long to put two and two together.

I reached out, putting a hand on his knee. He covered my palm with his own, giving it a brief, warm squeeze.

"It must be great having a friend like that. You're both wonderful and brilliant. You deserve no less," The smile threatened to split my face in two.

Bruce returned the smile but the sadness didn't go away. "You realize that extends to you, right?"

"Me? I'm just me, Bruce." I wasn't sure where this was going. "I'm Peter's classmate and the resident hot mess express."

Bruce frowned, deep and long, up until he parked. Life seemed to be taking back all the happiness it gave me previously-in fucking buckets. The strap of my bag was going to get its threads pulled out with the way I was fiddling with it.

"Baby… Princess?" The scientist turned to me, tone torn somewhere between stern and pleading. "Listen to me. You are brilliant. Incredibly smart, talented and beautiful. Don't ever, ever think of yourself as less than any of us." I gaped at him.

Did he mean us as the Avengers? Us as Tony and Bruce? Meanwhile he continued, "In fact, I think you are the one who deserves so much better. I don't know what Tony found in me… Or what you found in me."

Was the man an idiot or yes? That was the question of the day. Cursing Tony's affinity for small cars (bless me and my own SUV), I only hesitated a moment before grabbing the dumb Banner by his face and startling him into looking straight in my eye. "If you don't quit talking all that fake-ass bullshit, I will kiss you. On the mouth. With tongue."

"Uh," Was his articulate response. I watched him squirm, blush and lose the heat to his argument.

"Exactly. I've had it all with you idiots today. Next time someone says some stupid ass fucking thing, I will kiss them. On the mouth, with tongue. Pass it on," I exhaled, releasing his face and dropping my head onto his shoulder.

"Some way of solving conflict you have," Banner chuckled weakly, throwing an arm around my shoulders. "I'd like to see Steve's reaction."

"A boner, probably, because he needs to get laid before he spontaneously combusts," I grumbled venomously, still bitter about his reaction. The Capsicle needed to chill. Hehe.

"I'll pass it on too," Bruce remarked wryly. "See you next week?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Bwucie, you're the fucking best," I kissed the scientist on the cheek, giving him a tighter than usual parting hug and walking up the pathway. Home.

Mother was nowhere to be seen - and the obvious reason for that laid on the kitchen floor. Couple of smashed dishes, a bottle of whiskey laying half-empty in a puddle on the grey tiles. The living room rug bore more stains and the smell of alcohol, bitter and acrid (like my soul, hardy har), hung heavily throughout the whole house.

At least I wasn't the only one who fought for myself that day. Mother probably had landed a good one on dad, too, by God the woman could be ruthless with her icy words. Dad never stood a chance. I've felt begrudgingly respectful of the way mother put people in their place with her words ever since I understood sarcasm.

First things first, I cleaned up the mess and opened the windows a smidge, cranking the air recuperation system to the max. Hanging around a place that smelled like a bum on a good Friday night was a horrible way to spend free time. Having successfully cut myself and bandaged the cuts up, I retreated to my room, not wanting to spend more time than necessary in the quiet, stinky, creepy house that my home had become.

My phone was long dead so I plugged it in, waiting for the 2% to appear, turning it on. A few messages from Peter, first cheerful, then worried and then relieved. Tony must've placated the spider child and told him I was staying at the tower. Good call, Tones, or else poor Peter would've worked himself into an anxiety attack and crashed in a dumpster while patrolling. Or something. I still didn't quite get his spider-hero side-gig.

A text from Bruce - rather, a photo, of a disgruntled Steve with his eyebrows raised, titled "I told him the next time he freaks out, you will kiss him. With tongue. Barnes cackled for about ten minutes until he ran out of air."

And a text from Tony. My chest tightened when I opened it. "Good tactics. Sneaky, clever, I'd give it a B+."

I snorted. Then the phone beeped again and I froze. A text ordering me to be ready tomorrow, for a date night? Unreal. I was torn. A part of me was elated, thinking Tony wanted to keep me around like that. The other, more sensible part, was firmly telling me to chill TF down. He'll most likely kindly reject any further intimate interactions, maybe have me sign a few NDAs.

I still answered positive, mushy and cute and all. Feelings aside, I wasn't about to change my texting style for any man. My God, I was turning into a monster. A horribly cheesy, pink, soft, fluffy monster.

The next day, school was nearly unbearable. People talked. Not to my face, of course, since the rumours of me putting away Flash Thompson were still fresh enough for everyone to be cautious around me, but the whispers followed me throughout hallways, tongue in cheek remarks thrown at me from the bathroom stalls, behind the teacher's desks. Did I care? Nope.

Okay, I did, but not in the way one would think. The little spring in my step, a slight smirk. My thoughts were occupied with my upcoming dinner with Tony.

Peter and his pet nerds stood at my side, the ever watchful guards. I had no idea why they decided I needed reassurance or their comfort (I did not), but I had to admit it was cute. MJ, in particular, glared her Death Ray Stare at any male-identifying student that dared to as much as look wrongly in my direction. I mostly ignored the trio. Pete himself did a great job with entertaining his friends, he babbled on as usual, about everything and nothing in particular. Mouth ulcers. He was going to get them one day.

Dad called me during third period, saying he was flying off to California. I would have been lying if I said I didn't know why he scheduled the sudden trip; mother's total radio silence and the absence of her laptop in her own office spoke volumes about the state of my family's affairs. They had a fight and ran off to the opposite ends of the continent. I didn't understand why mother was upset with me, though. I saved her face during dinner at Tony's, so why is she mad about me going to a party with dad? Baffling woman.

Admitting the house felt like home when either of them were absent was hard. Or, perhaps, I felt nothing at all. Spending so much time around the Brady Bunch- the Avengers made me too soft for my own liking. It wasn't just Tony that lived in mind rent-free all the time now; there was Bruce, with his kindness, Bucky with his overgrown teenager attitude, Wanda with her wit and hair that smelled like cheap shampoo - seriously, I absolutely had to show her the benefits of decent hair products. That was just to list the few little quirks. There were so many people, all of them different and wonderful in their own way.

To summarize it, I was both happy for them and bitter for not having any of that to myself. Although it made me kind of glad I didn't have a sibling - looking after someone in the mess that mother and dad created would've been a nightmare. They say it's always a better place where we are not.

I went through a whole pack of cigarettes in a span of a couple of hours. Plagued by strangely melancholic thoughts, trying to push down the anxiety over my upcoming date, my choice of outfit proved to be a cumbersome task while in process.

Expensive but simple dress with spaghetti straps, in my favourite colour. That was the easiest part. A good base for any accessories. Would Tony like it? Would the press make outrageous comments?

Either way, it would. Dad's comments cut deeper than I probably realized it until now; in a sudden bout of self-awareness and a couple of mouse clicks later... Tony wouldn't care. Tony wears suits with sneakers. The Manolos flew back, towards my shoe closet, and a pair of Chanel trainers made their debut. A Hermes 2002 barely weighed down by my wallet, keys and phone. A nice coat, too, appropriately light and so very conceptual and fashionable.

I spent way too much time deciding on what to wear. A stern talking to, however, didn't help me, and I had to redo my make-up - the "nude", "all natural" look was one of the hardest to nail. Or so Marie Claire said. Whatever, my highlighter game was, as usual, on point.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @gigglyfox01 @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway (it finally let me tag you)!

[carewyncromwell]

Director’s commentary on the drabble where Sirius eavesdrops on Chess with Ed as he plays the piano 🤩

⭐ Sirius Eavesdrops on Chess and Ed at the Piano

@cursebreakerfarrier​ When it comes to how Chess has forgiven Ed, I see three specific things coloring how Sirius has reacted to it.

Sirius remembers how long Chess was willing to make excuses for Ed, back when he didn't deserve it. Because Ed was Chess's first real friend she'd ever made and because he meant so much to her, she had a lot of trouble for a long time completely giving up on him and -- in Sirius's mind -- would've always been open to Ed returning to her life if he'd ever reached out. And frankly, the Ed that Sirius knew at school didn't deserve Chess's friendship -- not only was he the sort to placate blood purists and parrot their sentiments in the name of "tradition" and "keeping the peace," but he had latched onto Regulus, who Sirius knew would always put the House of Black's stance on blood purity over everything else.

Wormtail's betrayal still stings -- a lot. Sirius has seen what happens when someone who pacifies and dodges rather than fights ends up in the midst of a war -- Peter Pettigrew, who once counted himself among Sirius's closest friends, was exactly that kind of personality, and when things got dangerous, he was willing to sacrifice James, Lily, and Harry's lives to Voldemort, if it would save his own skin. Sirius has already lost the first and best friend he'd ever had in his life -- to lose Chess in a similar way, all because she chose to trust someone "fair weather" with her life, would be crippling to him.

Sirius isn't the sort to believe mushrooms can change their spots. Severus Snape was a git, and he still is one, as far as Sirius is concerned -- he frankly doesn't care if Dumbledore now says he's a good person. And therefore in Sirius's mind, Ed -- who was in Severus Snape's year and house -- is also exactly who he always was.

It's this interaction at the piano, interestingly enough, that first takes Sirius off-balance -- because if Ed's love songs are truly all about Regulus, even though Sirius's younger brother has been dead for almost fifteen years...then that means that Ed is a deeply, deeply loyal person. Even after all this time, he still loves Regulus, and he loves him so purely that he creates music celebrating who Regulus was and what they had. Although Sirius himself is the sort to fight in the memory of those lost -- and he's actually kind of relieved Ed didn't do that, because then Ed would probably be fighting with the Death Eaters now -- he can't believe that someone who turned on his best friend just because she had the audacity to call him for his blood purist sh** could feel such sincere devotion to someone as deeply flawed as Regulus. It seems like a contradiction -- but it also, perhaps, could justify what Ed's said over and over every time Sirius tries to hound him -- that he's trying to be a better person than he was before. And even if Sirius has a lot of trouble believing Ed ever could be better, as he himself says to Harry at one point --

"We all have both light and dark inside of us. What matters is the part we choose to act on. That's who we really are."

And perhaps Ed Rosier has more light inside of himself to act on than Sirius had initially thought.

Director's Cut Ask! // Read the Drabble Cited!

[princeescaluswords]

Fandom swears Scott is "dumb, stupid, an idiot" yet he single handedly is somehow responsible for Derek's failings and his pack not working out. Can stans explain *how* Derek, notoriously distrustful and impulsive and violent, would've prevailed against Peter, Gerard and Kanima if Scott obeyed him? They would all be dead had Scott not taken initiative. But fanon!Derek is so often given Scott's qualities and comes up with his plans even though it doesn't fit canon whatsoever

You see the biggest problem with St*r*k-stans (I refuse to call them Derek-Stans because they don’t care about Derek that much) is that for them, Season 2 is exactly eight scenes long –

Derek warning Scott about Gerard in the forest

Isaac getting abused

Derek scolds Scott for how he sniffed out Isaac

The Pool Scene of Legend

Stiles is a Spark

Derek saves Scott from Victoria

Stiles is kidnapped

Scott betrays Derek by making him Bite Gerard

These are the only scenes they recognize (and some of them only barely), because these are the scenes that tell the story they want to hear.  In this story, Stiles trusted Derek and Derek trusted Stiles while Scott hated Derek irrationally and betrayed him to Gerard while Derek was just trying to do his best for his betas.   

The problem, of course, is that those eight scenes would comprise maybe one episode at the most of a twelve-episode season.  And in those other eleven episodes we got scene after scene of Derek at a loss and responding with violence and intimidation in the face of that incapability.  

I always love how they miss that after Derek had bitten Isaac in Shape Shifted and he discovered that Coach Lahey had been killed, Derek had NO PLAN for dealing with it, essentially sending a newly bitten werewolf who was the last person to see his murdered father alive to school on the night of a full moon.  Well, actually, Derek did eventually have a plan – go get Scott.  (They fail to notice that he didn’t go get Stiles.  He knows where Stiles lives; he’s worked with Stiles, but he doesn’t bother to even ask about him.)

They miss that Derek seduces a 16-year-old girl into getting the Bite.  He doesn’t do this when she is sitting at home or on the lacrosse pitch after school, but directly after an epileptic seizure when she’s at her most vulnerable, by taking her on a hospital bed to the morgue (NO FORESHADOWING THERE!)  

Derek’s plans throughout the season were basically one plan – find the target of the night and kill it, regardless of innocence, morality, or even effectiveness.  It didn’t work.   His own betas watched him have no clue what to do, but, more importantly, they watched him fixate so heavily on doing anything, that he stopped caring who got hurt.  How many times did Boyd stand in the background and have a “what have I gotten myself into?” expression on his face, especially during the training sessions.   How many times did Erica have to deal with getting nothing of what she wanted and instead get more pain.  The moment Scott showed Isaac true kindness, the boy was ready to jump ship.  

So yes, in a way, Scott did undermine Derek, but only by being a person who while he may not have known what to do, Scott wasn’t willing to risk innocents, allies, and friends getting hurt to maintain his own power.  

And no, Scott was not responsible for the people the kanima killed while under Matt’s control.  Once Scott knew that Jackson was being controlled, Scott focused on finding the real villain.   And, as always, Scott had no agency in the scene where Gerard held Jackson’s claws to Allison’s throat to force Derek to bite Gerard.  

Derek was a villain in Season 2 because he tried to rebuilt the safety of a pack and family on the backs of children.  He was one of Teen Wolf’s innovations, because he wasn’t a villain motivated by greed or pride or rage, he was motivated by fear and loss and that was acknowledged.  Yet, he was still a villain and got his comeuppance at the end of the season.