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kidney9-9 · 1 year

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A Goodbye that Doesn't Matter - Peter Parker

I hope you all enjoy this extra heavy angst! No happy ending unfortunately. Thank you for reading!

Peter Parker x Reader Warnings: Cursing and character death Word Count: 2.8k

You were more upset than you could handle at the moment. There were things in your life that were always constant and now one of the major things in your life that was static, is gone. Nothing you could do can bring back this constant that was now gone – it went rogue, from its place in your life and became the only thing you couldn’t reach you.

Your friend was dead.

You couldn’t bring yourself to talk about it at all. You couldn’t stop thinking about how it happened though. Just a quick death, one wrong move and she was gone. Her dad told you, “At least she didn’t feel any pain.” But that made you feel even more sick. It was like her family was okay with her being gone, so quickly after her death (you knew they weren’t, but you couldn’t stop the feeling).

Everyone in your life who either knew about it or didn’t know noticed you distanced yourself and most had been understanding, except for Peter.

You didn’t tell him about it. You couldn’t. You didn’t want to see or feel his sympathy and you knew that even though those two weren’t close, that he would grieve in a dark way, maybe even bring him back to how he felt with Tony’s death.

So, you held it back for his sake and for your sake. And he had no clue as to why his girlfriend was suddenly being withdrawn from life.

You saw his side to it of course, but you couldn’t bring it up and tell him.

“You’re gone all the fucking time and you look so sad. I don’t get it, are you so unhappy to be with me? Tell me what’s going on, please. Why are you so empty with me? You’re not being yourself.” Peter spoke up, pulling your hands towards him, begging you.

You shook your head, feeling like you were outside of your body. “Um, Peter, it’s nothing. You’re just… imagining it all. I’m still me, I’m still here.” You excused it, shrugging it off.

“Fuck, you’re not answering me. Again. And again, and again, like always.” He sighed, letting go of your hands.

“That’s fine, since I’m not doing anything wrong.” You responded, staring blankly at him. He stared at you back with anger and confusion in his eyes. It hurt you so much, but you couldn’t do anything about it. You could tell you were hurting him, but this was better compared to letting him fall back into a dark cycle of grieving someone while trying to take care of you – his girlfriend.

That would hurt the relationship so much more. You didn’t want to hurt him more either.

“Of course, yeah, sure.” He replied, nodding to you. He cleared his throat and wiped his face, looking away from you.

You stared at him a bit longer as he looked like he was about to cry and something in your heart clenched, and you realized you pulled away from him a bit too much. You ignored it just for a moment before you walked up to him and leaned up to his face, kissing his cheek softly before you went away.

“I’m going to the store, I want to get some scones, do you need anything?” You asked, ending the earlier conversation.

He shrugged, “No, I’m okay. Just wish you could fucking talk to me. Bye.” He watched as you left without your wallet and sighed when he heard the car turn on and leave.

As you left, you turned on the radio and turned up the volume to max, sighing as some dumb popular song played. You liked the feeling of the bass rushing through your body, making you feel something other than your sadness and grief.

You hummed along to the tune as you backed out of the driveway and started to drive down the street. You didn’t notice Peter standing in the doorway, staring at you.

Peter sat back in his seat on the couch as he called Ned. He put it on the speaker as he started to play some video games.

“Hello?” Ned called out as he answered the phone. Peter grinned, relieved that he answered, “Hey Ned!” He was feeling a bit more cheerful that he had his friend talking to him now. No matter what, it seemed like Ned had his back.

“Hey man, how are you doing?” Ned responded, smiling into the phone.

“Well… That’s what I’m calling about.” Peter replied, biting his lip softly as he hit a switch, avoiding a hit from one of the characters in the game.

“What’s going on?”

“It’s Y/n, she’s acting weird… or different.” Peter trailed off. He couldn’t understand why you’ve been acting so off. You didn’t even react to him cursing at you. It was totally unlike you, and it made Peter feel like the bad guy.

“Well, it’s cause of what’s happened… you know you should give her some space.” Ned cleared his throat as he answered back.

“What do you mean? What are you talking about?” Peter groaned, shaking his head. “It’s like I’m the only one that doesn’t know anything about what’s going on anymore!” He practically growled.

Ned sighed deeply and stayed silent for a few moments, making Peter’s heart drop.

“Ned?” He let out.

“You didn’t know?” Ned asked, whispering.

Peter felt terrible and terrified at this point, “What? What don’t I know?”

“If you know, you’re being a real asshole here. Cut her some slack.” Ned said, and then sighed again, “Her friend died. Our mutual friend, you don’t know her that well. She was in our class one year. Sally Avril.”

Then everything made sense.

It clicked.

“Oh my god.” Peter mumbled.

“That was one of her closest friends.” Peter continued, and Ned let out a sound, something that sounded like a cry, making Peter’s heart clench hard.

“She was my friend too, Pete. It’s okay you didn’t know. But fuck – you need to be there for Y/n. Seriously.” Ned cried harder, sniffling.

“No, man, I’ve got to be there for you too.” Peter spoke up, continuing, “Fuck, I’m coming over right now.”

Your eyes were blurry as you drove recklessly down a street. You couldn’t stop crying, it felt like your tears were coming out at a fast rate. You looked down at your phone, wondering if Peter was okay. He obviously was not okay with you leaving or acting like this, but other than that, you hoped that he was okay.

That was one of the last things you needed. You just needed to see someone close in your life be okay, so you could know that you would eventually be okay too. You thought about telling him about your friend, but then you stopped – realizing maybe you shouldn’t tell him since he’d get sad or pity you.

He didn’t know her well enough to call her a friend, but she’d been around him quite a few times so that Peter should recognize who it was.

You continued to stare at your phone, scrolling to find some music to put on to make you feel numb to the pain you were currently feeling.

You pressed play on a song, and turned it up all the way, blasting the music so you could drown out the sounds of your sobs. You then realized you should call Peter, and apologize about how you left things. As you pulled up his phone number and pressed call, you sighed as it kept ringing.

You didn’t realize you drove on the wrong side of the road.

You also didn’t realize until it was too late that a car was driving on the same side, right at you.

Just as the car hit yours, a scream erupted from your lips as pain started to rain down your entire body. Your scream got cut off as glass flew into your body from your car’s windshield, and a broken sob escaped your lips as something dragged across your abdomen, ripping it open.

The phone rang quietly as Peter sat close by Ned, as they played video games together. Ned talked to Peter at some times, and other times, he stayed quiet, crying silently.

“She was a good person.” He whispered, then glanced over to Peter’s phone. “You should answer it. It’s Y/n’s mom.” Ned spoke up, clearing his throat.

Peter furrowed his eyebrows, “That’s really weird. She never calls me.” He picked his phone up in his hands and stared at it for a second before answering.

He put it on the speaker because he couldn’t hold the phone and play the video game at the same time. He set the phone down on his lap and picked up the controller again, playing the game.

Ned glanced at him, “You don’t need it on speaker, man.” He groaned, and Peter shrugged.

“It’s okay,” He paused, then spoke up, “Hey there.” To your mom over the phone.

“Peter, dear… Y/n got into a car accident. She’s in the hospital right now, in an operation. We’re on our way, but please let us know if you get there before us.” Your mom was crying as she told Peter what happened. She didn’t have enough details but apparently there was footage from a street camera, that she was trying to get ahold of.

She wanted to know how it happened.

“What?” Peter got out as he shot out of his seat. His heart dropped as he heard the message, feeling shocked.

Your mom repeated what she said, this time sniffling a bit more before her voice broke, “Peter, I have to go now, my sister is calling.”

“Okay, I’m so sorry. I’ll be on my way right now.” Peter responded, voice bare as he wondered how it all happened. He was imagining all sorts of things about the car accident.

“Ned, I got to go, Y/n’s been in, uh, an accident.” He said out loud, voice starting to feel scratchy as his eyes started to water.

“Woah, what dude?” Ned got up, following him to the door. “Do you want me to come with you?” He asked, scratching his head.

“Uhm, no, not right now, I think it might be serious, she’s in surgery.” Peter responded, nodding to Ned.

“I’ll see you later then, let me know how everything’s going. I hope she’s okay.” Ned replied, patting Peter’s back.

By the time Peter got there, you were still in the operating room. He had burst into the room, asking where you were, and he was told to go sit in the surgery waiting room. He was also told that things were not looking that good and to be prepared.

He didn’t know what they meant by “being prepared”. Be prepared for you to be asleep for a while? Sure, he was ready for that, but nothing else. He didn’t really want to think about you possibly not making it.

He shuddered at the thought of you dying and a few tears fell as he looked up at the screen, trying to distract himself.

It was another two hours that passed when your parents finally made it. You were still in the surgery though, and Peter was slowly losing hope. He kept asking for progress and each time he did, the attendant would send him a sad look and shake his head saying, “At this point, we believe there is no progress.” Or “Things aren’t the best right now, but hopefully soon.”

“Hi there, still waiting for her to get out of surgery.” Peter greeted your mom and dad, trying to hold back his cries.

He silently let a few tears flow though, unable to stop them as your mom started to cry again.

It was at this point that one of the attendants came up to them with a somber look on his face. “Hello, are you all Y/n’s family?” He asked, looking at them.

“Yes, we are.” Your dad spoke up, holding your mom close by putting an arm around her shoulder. Tom moved away but stayed close to them, nodding as well.

“Let’s move to another private room, then.” The attendant said, guiding them all to a separate small room.

“What’s going on?” Peter murmured as he walked into the room with all of them, him being the last to go in.

Immediately, he spotted the grief poster in the room and the book on the side table about loved ones passing away. He stiffened as he walked in further, realizing what was about to happen. He started to shake his head.

“She can’t be dead.” He spoke up, looking meanly at the attendant. He looked at Peter with a sigh, shaking his head.

“No, she isn’t dead, but unfortunately things are not looking good in the surgery. We will be pulling her out and you can say your goodbyes. She will be passing in a few hours, I’m very sorry to tell you all. We did our best, with multiple surgeons but unfortunately, we were too late, and her heart keeps failing.”

“Okay…” Your mom spoke up after a moment of silence.

“Okay, we can do that. At least we can say goodbye.” She continued, sighing deeply. She continued to cry as she looked at the floor.

Peter felt like he was dying. His heart was beating quickly as he tried to blink away all the tears that were forming. He couldn’t believe it.

He thought back to the missed call he found from you.

Were you trying to call him at the last second? He wondered.

He couldn’t bring himself to tell your parents about the phone call he didn’t answer. He was with Ned, he didn’t want to answer your call.

A horrible stab of guilt hit him as he wondered if he had answered that call, that maybe you’d still be alright.

He knew you called him at the last minute. He could feel it. He wondered if he had a voice mail from you, then he breathed in deeply.

He sobbed openly, crying out your name as he crumbled to the floor, with your parents quickly forming behind him, patting his back.

You looked deadly pale. Just as if you were already dead. Your lips lost color and the usual smile he saw on your face was no longer there. Instead, your eyes were closed, and you were barely breathing, even with the tube down your throat.

He could hear all the beeps going off and ignored them, trying to hear what you sounded like. Just your body, at least. He could barely hear anything from you. So, he touched your hand instead, wanting to feel you squeeze his hand back.

You didn’t, and he could barely feel any heat coming off your body.

“I’m so sorry baby. I’m so sorry… please, I need you to come back. I need to tell you something, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know, I promise, I thought you were just acting differently for another reason, I should have realized it. You wouldn’t have left if you weren’t upset, right? It’s my fault, I’m so sorry.” He cried.

“Please, come back, I want you, I need you. What about our lives together?” He sobbed, continuing, “We were supposed to grow old and die together. Or at least, I was supposed to die before you because of my lifestyle. You’re not allowed to die! You hear me? You can’t leave me alone, I’m nothing without you.”

Peter’s body shook as he cried, holding your hand tightly. “I love you so much, baby. You can’t do this. If you do… if you do, I can’t live.”

“Excuse me sir, but we need to check her vitals, the machines are going off right now.” One of the nurses walked in, quickly shooing him out.

He shook the nurse off him, quickly pressing a kiss to your pale cheek. “I love you so much, always. I will always love you, and even if you might not survive this, this isn’t a real goodbye. It’s a see you soon. I’ll always love you, no matter what.”

Finally, he left the room, sniffling hard as he tried to stop his tears.

Your parents were sitting by the entrance and heard everything. Your mom got up from her seat and pulled Peter into a hug.

“She’ll always love you too, Peter.” Your mom murmured into his ear.

That night, it was declared that you passed away. Peter and your parents stood by as they rolled you away. He felt dissociated from the experience, and he barely found his way home after it was done. He fell into auto pilot, following his usual routine and as he went to bed that night, he found himself looking at your spot in the bed.

“Goodnight.” He whispered to the empty spot.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker angst #thank you for reading!

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fanfic-recs-01 · 5 months

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Peter Parker in Gotham Fic Recs

This is a list of fics with Peter Parker in Gotham I like on AO3, if you have any recs for me feel free to send me some!

The ships are all over the place and most are unfished fyi

Dark Matter by mysterycyclone *Unfinished

~The last thing Peter sees is Tony's horrified, heartbroken expression leaning over him. The guilt in his eyes is almost worse than the burning pain that's taking Peter apart piece by piece. The world starts to go dark.~

Green, through and through by another_fucking_robin for fruitymarauders

*Unfinished

~A spell goes wrong on Titan and Peter Parker ends up in a lazarus machine in Gotham. Every bat is chomping at the bit to adopt the tiny zombie boy, but they're just a tad bit distracted with a new spider-themed vigilante running around.~

Red and Blue are Hero Colors by Cashmire *Unfinished

~Peter has been feeling really lonely since everyone forgot he existed. So he decides to build a stargate to try and open doorways to other universes, hoping to maybe see the other Peter's again. But things don't quite go according to plan and he ends up in a strange city where Peter never existed and bats watch over the night.~

Should have just Surrendered by Anonymous *Unfinished

~After Peter gets dusted and loses everything in the War of the Infinity Stones, he believes that this is the final sign that the universe gave him to prove he can't be a hero.

So when he wakes up in a new world, with just his Iron Spider Suit and no clothes on his back he decides it is time to leave the hero life in the past and move on. Throwing his Spider Suit in the trash he goes on his way.~

A Long Way From Home (And No Way Back) by Vivia_wants_boba

*Unfinished

~“Oh,” the kid says, head turning to look back at the bathroom. “It’s fine. I’ve got it figured out.”

Dick’s face pulls to a pinched expression, shaking his head slowly. “As much as I’d love to believe you, I can’t. That stuff can’t just be emptied down the drain.”

The kid’s own face scrunches this time. “Why not?”~

Butler Spider by Danny_shells *Unfinished

~Alfred finds himself doing the adopting instead of Bruce, this time of a spider. Can Spider-Man become a first rate butler and keep his secret identity?~

Make It Out Just to Fall by derryhawkins *Unfinished

~Peter Parker gets sent to Gotham City in one last attempt by Doctor Strange to keep the multiverse from destroying New York City. The events that follow are interesting, to say the least.~

Spiders and Bats get along great! by RRTimDrake

~it’s that one fanfic where Peter Parker gets “adopted” by Bruce.~

Webbing up a Family by Agelaius_Ace

~After the events of Mysterio and No-Way-Home, Peter is alone. May is dead, Ned and MJ moved away, Tony doesn’t remember him. So Peter lets himself die.~

The Life, Death, and Recreation of Peter Parker by obliven

~What happens to Peter Parker when he gets dumped in Gotham City with nothing but the clothes on his back and his wallet?

Adventures include: - Peter gets a sugar daddy - Peter gets recruited to a drug ring - Peter cons a crime boss~

Homesick by NotSoSweetHeh

~Homesick; experiencing a longing for one's home during a period of absence from it.

Peter told Strange to erase him from everyone’s memory, but the world would forget his existence as well. As a last resort to keep Peter safe, he is sent to another world.~

Into Gotham by Chronicly Ill Girl (lilithzebra)

~Peter Parker is not having a good day. He was just trying to buy a sandwich. But now he is stranded in a city that doesn’t exist in his universe, all alone, and he never even got his sandwich.~

Set Naked On Your Kingdom by sassydandelion

~At the end of No Way Home, Peter chooses to sacrifice his life in New York to save the multi-verse...by letting Dr. Strange send him to a world where no one has ever heard of Spider-Man. What kind of crazy place is this Gotham City, anyway?~

time flies by (bye) by WHYISEVERYNAMETAKEN

~"Maybe," Peter thought, "I can make a life here." Hence the tears and the guilt and the grief, because was Peter allowed to move on? Was he allowed to… to leave it all behind? Leave all the bad things in the past? Peter was "The Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man!" after all, and wasn’t he letting Queens - his people - down if he didn’t fight tooth and nail to get back to them?~

#peter parker #gotham #batfam #fic recs

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the-king-andthe-lionheart · 1 year

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This fanon notion that Ned was a bad father to Sansa is absolutely ridiculous and not remotely based in canon. Like Sansa stans are just mad that Ned didn’t mistreat Arya because Sansa stans hate Arya and want everyone to treat Arya like shit

Exactly @daenerysthevampireslayerr

They can't stand that Arya is one of the Key Five and is important to the story. They also can't stand that she's in GRRM's top 3 favorite characters. And because Sansa isn't among these groupings, they are ridiculously jealous and believe that Arya deserves to be punished. It's also why whenever a character shows love or loyalty towards Arya, treats her like a human being, or a plot is about her, or she does something good and heroic or political, they erase her. Jon deserts the NW and dies for Arya? Erased. LSH and the BWB+Gendry are glaringly obviously looking for Arya? Erased. Brienne's quest about finding Sansa leads her on a journey following Arya's path and learning more about Arya's fate after her escape from KL? Erased. The Northerner's rising up in Ned's and Arya's names? Erased. Arya successfully pulling off a coup in Harrenhal that wins the castle for Robb? Erased. Arya hearing Ned's voice (not Bran's voice) through the weirwood at Harrenhal that gives her the strength to try to escape? Erased. Arya saving 4 people from a burning barn, including a toddler she later cares for? Erased. Arya being the second most powerful skinchanger after Bran? Erased. Arya learning all the same skills as Varys? Erased.

The fandom just loves erasing Arya's importance, her themes, her actual arc, her intelligence, the political skills she is learning, and the context in which she does things, just so they can prop other characters like Sansa up. But it's so pervasive that they've convinced so many other fans of this too, and it didn't help that we have misogynistic dudebros and incels in this fandom who overly criticize Arya for things that they applaud in the male characters. Like seriously, Arya has done nothing worse than what Ned has done, but which one in the fandom is deemed "good" and "honorable"? Ned.

But what's funny about these people is how they clearly can't read. The reason why Ned kept talking to Arya, is because he was blaming her for the fights with Sansa, and thought that Arya was the problem when it came to Septa Mordane. He was admonishing her. The reason why he got Arya water dancing lessons was to keep her busy, and he obviously knew it would be a good outlet that would teach Arya to focus her anger, and gain more discipline and patience. He never intended on the lessons to go far. He thought it was a phase she would grow out of before conforming into a southern lady. The reason why he said Syrio could come to Winterfell with them, but that Sansa couldn't say good-bye to Joffrey, is because Syrio wasn't a freaking Lannister, and the point of them leaving secretly had to do with the Lannister's being dangerous. But apparently that's favoritism and it means he didn't love Sansa? Even if Arya was his favorite, he clearly loved Sansa enough to think Sansa was well-behaved enough that she would never dare be the instigator towards Arya.

They want Arya severely punished in this story, but it's not even just Ned they want to punish her. Lately I've even been seeing disturbing things about them wanting Gendry to rape her. Imagine wanting a 12 year old to be raped or sexually assaulted, even a fictional one. It's disgusting and it's unhinged. They want Arya to suffer unimaginable torments but as soon as someone mentions an ending for Sansa that doesn't include Sansa being queen and having a Disney fairy tale ending they shriek and cry and send death threats. And I'm not even talking about people theorizing that Sansa will go dark or die by the end. I'm talking about people getting ulcers from the mere suggestion of Sansa ending the series in an arranged marriage and that she might have to seek love outside of her marriage considering GRRM loves tragic romances. But no, Arya and Dany are the special punching bags in this fandom, who deserve horrible things done to them, for... *checks notes*: "Doing the exact same things the male characters are doing and being praised for".

#arya stark #anti sansa stans

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bbygirl-aemond · 2 years

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I think I disagree with your post about Ned. The reason Cersei putting her bastards on the throne is a bigger deal is because she is not the ruling monarch, Robert is. Her children have no relation to Robert, Robert is unaware of this, and putting her children on the throne breaks the line of succession. Rhaenyra, on the other hand, is the ruling monarch. Her children are of her blood, and her husband and father-in-law are aware of the situation and are okay with it. So what would Ned even do? Because the Greens have already been spreading rumors about it and it’s obvious based on the boy’s looks, it’s pretty much an open secret across the realm. And anyone who matters already knows and doesn’t care. Vaemond is in the wrong because he is directly going against both Corlys and the King’s express wishes. Ned might have disapproved, but he would have acknowledged that Corlys and Viserys have the right to determine who inherits their thrones so long as they are aware of the truth.

(this ask is in reference to this post)

i'm still not convinced! while yes, rhaenyra's bastards still have her blood, there's wayyyy more going on here that ned would refuse to put up with than just bloodline. so let's go through it:

ned would take huge issue with rhaenyra going outside of her marriage to have children. this is a violation of what he would see as sacred vows that she made to laenor (going against the gods), and also actual westerosi laws. again, he would neither know nor care about the morality of whether laenor approved: the fact remains that rhaenyra publicly vowed and is legally required not to have children out of wedlock, and she violated that. he's super principled about these sorts of traditions.

he would also take issue with her lying to the court and the realm about it. ned hugely values honesty, so there's really no way he would ever be okay with rhaenyra lying. it doesn't matter if everyone implicitly knows; he would think it incredibly dishonorable for her to be explicitly lying regardless.

ned has demonstrated that he thinks it is even more important to hold to these principles the more power you have, and the more men you serve, because you set more of an example and are more trusted. so since rhaenyra as queen sets an example for the entire realm, he would hold her to the same high standards he holds himself to in all of these regards. and he would find her lacking.

just for the sake of your argument, let's pretend ned has abandoned his principles of honesty, legality, and religiosity in this case, and doesn't take issue with rhaenyra having bastards. in this scenario, he would STILL make a stink the MOMENT aegon the younger was born. in the presence of a trueborn son, ned would insist that the strong boys to be shifted down the line of succession. he would still uphold the westerosi laws and customs that says trueborn children have to come before bastards--think of how you can't even legally legitimize a bastard if you have another trueborn child.

that's not to say ned wouldn't support rhaenyra. of course, he would never like rhaenyra personally because of the past infidelity and dishonesty. but like cregan stark, he'd try to remain faithful to his oath to viserys, and would support her as viserys's only recognized heir. but he'd come to her privately, and make it clear that his support is conditional on the strong boys being recognized as bastards, so the truth is out and rhaenyra follows westerosi laws in determining her succession. and rhaenyra would still react poorly and harshly to that, so bye bye ned.

#ask #asks #answered #hotd #house of the dragon #ned stark #eddard stark #ned #eddard #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra #laenor velaryon #laenor

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marvelousbutterfly · 2 years

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how about (for your autistic peter parker series) peter (who's already having a bad day) unexpectedly meets Howard and Maria Stark (if u don't mind pretending they're still alive lmao) they make him upset and protective irondad + hurt/comfort ensues!

It took me a while, but here it is, anon! I got a bit carried away with this story, so this is only the first chapter, featuring mostly Hurt Tony and Protective Peter. What you requested, which is the other way around, will be featured in the next chapter!

Thank you for your patience, and I hope you and everyone else enjoy this!! Happy reading, everyone <3

(tw for implied/referenced child abuse and implied/referenced alcoholism)

No matter how far that I've run (memories always seem to catch up again)

Chapter 1: You bring me the past, didn't ask

Read on ao3

Summary:

"It's actually a really funny story," Peter started, but Tony didn't seem amused. "I'm okay, it was just me being clumsy and having no spatial awareness."

"Jesus, kid" Tony said, sounding exasperated but amused. "One day you'll be the death of me."

"I bet he's not worse than you," sounded a voice that was vaguely familiar to Peter. He looked up to see a man he recognized from the TV.

Tony's face paled as he turned around to face the unwelcome guest.

"Your father has arrived, boss" Friday announced a minute too late. ------- or in which Howard Stark is back, Tony is forced to face his past and Peter learns more about his mentor. Also, angst.

"And then I accidentally opened my locker on my head. Ned tried to warn me when he noticed I was too close to the door, but oh well… It hurt, but it was also hilarious, you know? And it got me thinking - can you imagine me knocking myself out with my super strength?" Peter asked, finally taking a breath after rambling about his day at school.

"I can, and that's what worries me…" Happy mumbled with a grimace from the driver's seat.

"Anyway, Ned and I laughed about it, but he still glared at the people who laughed at me in a bad way. I don't know how he can even tell the difference. Have you ever noticed how…" the boy continued, jumping from topic to topic the rest of the way to the Tower.

When they finally got there, instead of simply dropping the boy off as usual, Happy escorted him to the elevator.

"Friday, take Peter to the kitchen, please, and get him to put some ice on his forehead" he requested, and then mumbled under his breath with a mix of concern, annoyance and fondness, "I really don't get paid enough for this."

"Bye, Happy!" the boy waved, then groaned as Friday reminded him to get some ice for his head. ______________________________________________________________

Peter sat on the kitchen counter, placing an ice pack on his wound like Happy and Friday had instructed him to. He hated the sensation, but every time he put it down for too long, Friday would lightly scold him until he placed it back onto his wound.

"Hey Pete, I didn't hear you come in. How was sch-" Tony walked into the kitchen, stopping in his tracks when he saw the boy. "What the hell happened? Are you okay?" he asked, inspecting the bruise.

"It's actually a really funny story," Peter started, but Tony didn't seem amused. "I'm okay, it was just me being clumsy and having no spatial awareness."

"Jesus, kid" Tony said, sounding exasperated but amused. "One day you'll be the death of me."

"I bet he's not worse than you," sounded a voice that was vaguely familiar to Peter. He looked up to see a man he recognized from the TV.

Tony's face paled as he turned around to face the unwelcome guest.

"Your father has arrived, boss" Friday announced a minute too late.

"Great, thanks for the heads up, darling." ______________________________________________________________

TWO DAYS EARLIER

"So, what did you want to talk about that was so urgent?" Tony asked as the hologram screen flickered in front of him, slightly distorting the figure of Doctor Strange.

"I've been sensing an anomaly in our timeline and now I was finally able to track down the person responsible for that - an amateur sorcerer who has been playing around with time traveling. I'm still working on this issue, but I thought I should reach out to you and-"

"I'm gonna stop you right there" the other man interrupted, "I'm done with travels between dimensions, timelines and what-not. Doing it once to defeat that evil raisin was more than enough."

"The thing is…" Strange hesitated, a grimace evident on his face, "Someone made it through the portal into the present."

"Ugh, don't tell me there's an evil version of me running around Manhattan right now" Tony joked, but his grin was soon wiped from his face as the sorcerer's expression remained apprehensive.

"I guess you could describe him in such words. It's your father."

Tony was speechless as Doctor Strange explained that the amateur sorcerer messed with time with the sole intention of bringing Howard Stark back - and succeeded. Now, Strange was doing his best to fix what had been messed with before he could send the man back.

The younger Stark couldn't help but feel uneasy about his father's presence in this timeline. Then, he immediately felt a pang of guilt at the thought. How could he think like that? It was his father.

"So, can he be there tomorrow?"

The question brought Tony back to reality, reminding him that Strange had been talking the entire time.

"Huh?"

"We need a place for Howard to stay while I fix the broken timeline, and the Tower is the best place to ensure that he stays safe and that no one else notices he's here. Can I drop him off tomorrow after I talk to him to gather some more information?"

Tony sighed, regretting the answer even before it left his mouth. "Sure, I guess. I'll get some protocols ready," he said reluctantly. As soon as the call was over, he took a few shaky breaths and turned to one of his many screens. He had a lot of work to do.

In his haste to code protocol to keep his father's presence a secret from the public and especially the press, Tony nearly forgot that Peter would be staying with him for a few days while May was attending a conference out of town. So all he could do was try his best to swallow down his panic when Happy let him know that the kid was on his way. ______________________________________________________________

PRESENT DAY

As Howard stepped out of the elevator, Tony instinctively stepped in front of Peter, feeling the urge to shield him.

"What is this about, Anthony? Did someone manage to have your child to get to your money?" the man asked in a disdainful tone, leaning to the side to peek at the boy behind Tony.

"Not that it's any of your business, but this" Tony took a small step to the side, allowing his father to see a glimpse of Peter, who in turn was eyeing the eldest Stark curiously.

"Intern?" Howard huffed.

Tony took a deep breath and turned to look at Peter.

"Buddy, why don't you go down to the lab and get started on your homework?" he suggested, making sure not to mention his name, "Oh and keep putting ice on that head of yours."

As soon as the boy walked out of the room, Howard turned to look at his son once again.

"Stark Industries is hiring middle schoolers now?"

"He's in high school, and he's a brilliant young boy who deserves this opportunity to learn more."

"With you as a mentor, I'm not sure he'll get that opportunity," he sneered. "Now, I think it's time for a tour around SI, I want to see what you've done with the place."

"Sure, I'll have Friday notify the CEO herself"

"Wait, what??" ______________________________________________________________

Tony got Pepper to show the renewed building to his father - accompanied by Rhodey, because he would never leave anyone alone with his father. As soon as he got that out of his hands, Tony took his time in the elevator on the way to the lab - to Peter.

The boy was hunched over a textbook, but his eyes stared into the distance, his eyebrows furrowed together, deep in thought. Howard's words rang in his head, and he couldn't shake the need he felt to protect Mr. Stark from him.

"Pete?" the man called quietly, waking him from his thoughts.

"Did he treat you like that all the time?" Peter caught Tony off guard with the straightforward question.

"Only when we were in the same room" he joked, already building up the walls he worked so hard on tearing down.

"That's not fair! He's your father!"

"Look, kid, it's complicated. I've never been the easiest kid to have around."

"Neither have I!" Peter argued, "Kids don't have to make it easy in order to deserve loving parent-figures."

Tony didn't answer, he didn't know what to say. His father has always been like that, so he never thought about the possibility of things being different. He would just focus on the paternal love Jarvis had for him, and on doing his best to break the cycle and be a better father to his own kid in the future.

Now, Tony realized, the future was here. ______________________________________________________________

Tony avoided his father at all costs throughout the next few days, always finding an excuse to leave the room.

One day, though, his father was waiting for him outside the lab, and he couldn't escape. If he wanted to meet Peter upstairs for their movie night, he'd have to go through the man.

"So this is where you've been hiding, huh?" the man said, peeking inside. "You really haven't changed."

Says the dead man, Tony wanted to say. Instead, he decided on "I've changed a lot, you don't know me."

"Oh we're snappy today" his father mused.

"Look, I have better things to do, if you don't mind" Tony tried to walk past him, only to have his path blocked again.

"Better than talking to your own father?"

"You talk as if you've ever treated me like one," the younger Stark said before he could stop himself. His shoulders tensed up instinctively as he waited for his father's reaction.

"You know what, Anthony? You're right." Tony almost choked at the words, his brain not catching up to the venom seeping through them. "You are different. You've gotten weaker. You want me to treat you like a father does, but you're not even the man I raised you to be."

You've barely even raised me at all, Tony screamed in his own head, but he couldn't get the words out. His brain was flooded with dreaded images from his childhood. Belts, yelling voices, the burn of alcohol in his throat.

He'd fought against his trauma, gotten sober and even found it in his heart to forgive his father, while promising himself to be better.

But it was easier to forgive a ghost than a man of flesh and bone who never even felt he had something to be forgiven for.

"...at the Tower, outside your personal lab…" Friday's voice swam in and out of his head, but he couldn't really process them.

"-e in distress"

"...call some-"

"...ear me? Mr. Stark?"

His mind froze at the name. Was he in a meeting or with the press? Why were they being so formal? Unless…

"Pep?" he mumbled, voice weak.

"It's Peter, Mr. Stark. I can ask Friday to get Ms. Potts if you want."

Peter was in the Tower? What if he heard what Howard said? What if Howard had said something to the boy this time? What if-

"Mr. Stark, can- can I touch you? I think we should go sit down, can you do that for me?"

Peter said when he noticed the color drain from his mentor's face completely. He tried not to let his own anxiety show, and decided it was better to stop asking so many questions, as Mr. Stark's only response to them was to show a confused expression over his dazed eyes. The boy took a few breaths himself and got into action, trying to remember everything he learned about helping someone through a panic attack, and what usually helped with his own.

Still stuck in his own head, Tony felt smaller and softer hands on his calloused ones, guiding him downwards until he found himself sitting on a hard and cold surface. The cold sensation seeped through his jeans and all over his legs in a comforting way, somehow. He spread the palm of one of his hands on the surface, feeling the smooth texture. Was he on the floor? Why?

"Sorry about that, Mr. Stark, I didn't want you to fall over" the young voice explained. Who was it again? Tony opened his eyes - when had he even closed them? - to see Peter crouched down in front of him, worry all over his face.

"There you are," the boy said softly, letting out a relieved sigh.

That, in turn, raised another question in Tony's head - where were they? He tried to look around, but his mind couldn't seem to put the pieces together.

"It's okay, just breathe," Peter said calmly, and Tony noticed he was exaggerating how own breaths, so he felt encouraged to follow along.

"That's great," the boy praised. "Now look around slowly. Can you tell me five things you can see?"

"I don't- I- d-door?" he stuttered, and it seemed to be the right answer.

"Good job! Four more, you're doing great."

The praise encouraged Tony to keep trying, despite the effort it took him. At least he was doing something right.

"Y-you? Uh… elevator" he said in between gasps, "a chair, my-my lab?"

"That's great. Now, four things you can touch."

The man furrowed his brows in concentration as he focused on his hands first.

"Floor, uh- your hand?" he tried, and the hand in question squeezed his, "Wall… my ho-hoodie."

"You're doing great! Tell me three things you can hear"

"Dum-e? The elevator moving, your breathing" he said, taking a couple of deep breaths himself as he felt the fog in his head start to dissipate.

"Good, you're almost there" Peter kept encouraging him, still exaggerating his own breathing for Tony to copy. "Now two things you can smell."

"Cof- coffee, the floor cleaner"

"Great! Now one thing you can taste"

"Salt?" Tony said, confused. He hadn't noticed he'd been crying, and when the realization hit he hurriedly wiped his face with the sleeve of his hoodie.

"It's okay, it's just us here," Peter assured him. "How are you feeling now?" he asked when his mentor's breathing finally slowed down enough that he was no longer hyperventilating.

"Better. I- I don't know what happened, kid. I'm sorry you had to see that. Not very Iron Man of me" he joked in hopes to disguise his genuine embarrassment.

"Hey, none of that, Mr. Stark" Peter saw right through him, "You can break from time to time, it doesn't make you any less weak."

"You s- you sound like my therapist," the man retorted, still slightly out of breath.

"You should listen to her, then. She sounds really smart," Peter joked, then his face turned serious again. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really, no" Tony sounded apologetic.

Peter didn't know what else to say, so he didn't say anything. He adjusted himself in a seating position next to his mentor on the floor, their hands still holding onto each other's. He started rocking himself back and forth slowly, humming a quiet tune under his breath to soothe himself, and Tony had to admit it, as he was lulled to sleep - it soothed him too.

#autistic peter parker #irondad fic #irondad and spiderson #peter parker and tony stark #mcu spiderman #my fics #butterfly writes

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that-dumbass-rabbit · 9 months

Text

Ok I'm just gonna come on here and rant about one character from my fanfic I'm writing hope you don't mind. Have something to drink while you listen: ☕️🥤🍵🥛🧃🧋

Ok so I just got to the part where we meet Ned Silverton and we don't actually interact which him much in the book so I get a lot more freedom when making his character and Im making him a calculated player who's also very good at reading people and manipulating people and acting. He's always with a woman, always has a handful he can go to. But he's really really emotionally intelligent and a very good actor. He's the kind of guy where he knows exactly how people are gonna react and knows exactly what to say and do to get the reaction he wants. He can become a totally different person at the drop of a hat if he needs. Like he can be whatever a lady is into and he uses them for money while convincing them he loves them. He's everyone's "perfect guy" whatever that means to them personally. And it's hard to hide things from him because he can read people so well. But if he reads someone wrong, or someone reacts in an unexpected way, he falls apart. And it's rare for him because he gets a lot of practice while manipulating women for money. He's so interesting.

Basically his role in the main storyline is George and Selden need him to be a co-respondent in George and Berthas divorce case. He needs to say "yes she cheated on him with me" and I'm gonna have him be a little skiddish to go on their side, but he will be on their side because I'm gonna make George break down a bit and get really aggressive, which he's not normally. He's a quiet sad man who lets his wife push him around. But not anymore now they're getting divorced and he's gonna enjoy the freedom and power it brings him. This new side of George is gonna totally freak out Ned and it's gonna be great. Bros mask? GONE

Idk how much of an ark I'm gonna give him, he won't get *that* much time in the story I don't think so idk how much room there will be. But if I do give him an ark maybe I'll have him see the pain manipulation causes and see how cool Selden is and become a lawyer like him. If he gets anything he can be Seldens apprentice or smthn.

Ok rant over bye bye

#house of mirth

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atths--twice · 2 years

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Chapter Nineteen

Who Gave You The Right?

Things get a little heated at the sheriff's station.

“Whoa,” Scully said as they reached the sheriff’s station and saw the crowd of people gathered outside of it. “Is that… Ashley with them?”

“Looks like it,” Mulder said and she hummed in response.

“Maybe park around back. Speak to the sheriff first.”

“Good idea,” he agreed and continued to the back of the station, parking across the street and walking towards the steel gray back door.

“Sheriff?” Mulder said, his phone to his ear. “We’re at the back door. Okay. Yeah. Bye.”

“We demand answers! We want to know what’s happening!” came a voice from the other side of the building and Scully sighed.

“I know how they feel, but this… it’s not helping,” she said and Mulder nodded.

“No, it’s not.”

The door opened and Ned, the sheriff, stood before them looking extremely tired.

“Thank you for getting here so quickly,” he said, allowing them to enter and then locking the door behind them. “Sorry if it interrupted any plans you had.”

“No. It didn’t,” Mulder insisted, following the sheriff down the hall, as Scully thought longingly of her sandwich waiting in the car, having only had the chance to eat a few fries. “What started all of this?”

“Aside from the lack of new information about the disappearances, I don’t know. They started showing up in small numbers and then it grew. The one with the megaphone is Cassie Quinn, Brent’s sister. It’s mostly women too, which is odd.”

“Why is that odd?” Scully asked with a frown.

“Oh, no,” he said with a glance at her. “I didn’t mean it's odd that women are here, but that it’s mostly women. When we’ve had protests, which we’ve had only a time or two, over local issues or whatnot, it’s been a mix of the sexes. Today though, the majority is women.”

“Maybe it’s because men are disappearing,” Scully mused and the sheriff sighed.

“Yeah. You could be right,” he said softly and pushed open a door to the main room of the station.

There were five other people in the room. Lyle nodded at them as he continued his conversation with the only woman of the group; her expression hard and her dark hair pulled back in a no-nonsense bun.

“The sheriff is not telling us everything. He has to know something. We deserve to know the truth.”

“The truth!” the crowd echoed and Ned groaned as he stood before everyone.

“Listen up,” he called to his officers and all chatter stopped. “Not all of you have had the pleasure of meeting the FBI agents yet. This is Agent Mulder and Agent Scully. They are here to help find the missing men.”

“Perfect timing,” a man with a thick red mustache said, gesturing to the crowd outside the doors. “They’re riled up.”

“They’re missing their family members and they’re scared they may never see them again,” Mulder said, stepping forward as he also gestured outside. “I can’t say that any of you wouldn’t feel the same if you were in their shoes. If you were a civilian who didn’t have access to information the way law enforcement does.”

“We don’t know anything new,” the woman with the bun said, her stance haughty as she sized Mulder up. “Can’t imagine they want to hear that from us yet again.”

“Perhaps not, but it’s something,” he said, nodding at her.

“It’s best to be calm and honest in situations such as these,” Scully said and the woman shook her head with a scornful expression. “I know you all know that, but when tempers rise and words are used as weapons, it can be like a powder keg waiting to explode.”

“So what do you suggest?” asked the mustached man.

“Officer…

“Detective Plewett,” he said, smiling as he nodded at Scully.

“Detective. Thank you. Detective Plewett, my suggestion is to hear them out, calmly and rationally-”

“Oh, if only we’d thought of that,” the woman interrupted, staring at Scully, her dark eyes cold. “You just solved all of our problems.”

“Rosa,” Ned said warningly.

“Sorry, Chief. I suppose I should be thankful that a federal agent is here to inform us of the best way to speak to people. I guess we missed that in our training and just being a human living our life. We may not be from the “big city,” Agent, but we know how to speak to individuals. We aren’t simple,” Rosa said, still staring at Scully.

“Considering the fact that you’re still in here and not out there speaking to them, are you sure about that?” Scully asked, her tone cold as she took a step toward Rosa.

“Excuse me? Who gave you the right?” Rosa asked, also stepping forward, Lyle getting in front of her to stop from going further. “Who gave you the right to come here and tell me how to do my job?”

“Scully,” Mulder said quietly, tugging at the back of her coat, but she waved him away, still staring at Rosa.

“We had stopped for lunch when your chief called and asked for our assistance. We did not phone him, he phoned us. You got that?” Scully asked, her blood boiling with anger at this woman and her questions. “We’re here to help, but if you think the six of you have this under control, along with assisting any other emergencies or needs that may arise in the area, I have food waiting for me in the car. I leave the decision to you.”

They stared one another down and everyone seemed to be holding their breath as they waited, the crowd outside chanting once again, their volume growing.

“Rosa,” Ned said, and she looked at him, her chest rising and falling. “Detective Nuñez.” His eyes widened as he shook his head. “This is not a difficult decision, but it seems that it is for you. You can leave.”

“Chief-”

“Detective.”

“No, I don’t want to leave.”

“Then you’ll apologize-”

“Not necessary,” Scully said, staring at the detective. “My concern is for the group gathered outside. If Detective Nuñez wants to help in the way I’ve specified, then we’re good. No apology needed. If not, then…” She shrugged and looked back at Mulder, raising her eyebrows at him. He nodded and she turned her attention to Detective Plewett. “We could use your help and from anyone else who is willing to do so.”

“Whatever you need,” he said with a nod and she looked at the other men who also nodded.

Glancing back at Detective Nuñez, she waited and finally she nodded curtly one time.

“Good. Now, we will go out as a group, spreading out in a line. Sheriff Walker, Agent Mulder, and I will take point. They will want to hear from us, once they learn we are federal agents.” She looked at Detective Nuñez again and she let out a deep breath as she nodded. “We will need your help to keep the crowd calm or we’ll be back to square one.”

“Exactly as Agent Scully said,” the sheriff said, looking at each of them in turn and waiting for them to nod in the affirmative. “We will go out and I will introduce them, fielding questions to them, but not allowing them to be overwhelmed and spoken over by the crowd. Understood?”

“Yes, Chief,” they answered in unison.

“Good. Okay. Let’s go speak to them.”

He glanced at Scully and extended his arm, telling her to go ahead of him. She smiled tightly and walked past him, heading in the direction of the door.

“So much for making nice with the locals,” Mulder murmured as he fell in step beside her. She glanced up at him and he cleared his throat, obviously seeing the anger she was feeling. “After we do this, I’m gonna see if they have a vending machine. Get you some candy or something.”

“Mulder,” she warned, her tone harsh.

“Simply trying to say that we missed lunch and I think… maybe your blood sugar might be a bit low?”

“Because I got upset at another woman who was being rude? I should have let that slide because if not, my legitimately understandable reaction must be from a result of low blood sugar, not her testing my patience?”

“Whoa,” he said, halting his steps and reaching out to lightly touch her arm. “That was not where I was going with my thoughts. Not for any reason.”

“Okay,” she said shortly, attempting to take a step, but he stopped her.

“But, you had said you were hungry after the hike this morning, we didn’t eat more than a handful of fries each and now…” He gestured to the loud crowd beyond the door. “Now we will be dealing with this and the aftermath of it.”

“And?” she asked, sighing as she shook her head. “I really don’t have time for this-”

“And this quick trigger reaction, is not you. Unless you're rightfully upset or… you’re hungry. Or both.” He smiled softly and she stared at him as she drew in a breath.

And then another. And then one more.

“I know you, Scully. We’ll do this and then I’ll find you something sweet, okay?” He smiled again and she let out a deep breath.

“Saline IV?” she asked quietly and he chuckled.

“Or at the very least a Coke,” he replied, squeezing her arm gently.

“Okay,” she agreed with a nod. “A Coke sounds good.”

“Alright. Let’s get through this and I’ll get you that Coke. Ready?”

She nodded again and they continued to the door, pushing it open and stepping into the afternoon sun, the air cold around them.

#the x files #xf fanfic #msr #fanfic #fictober22 #xffictober2022 #anger #annoyed #Scully taking charge #as she should #perhaps a little hangry?#season 7 #case fic

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sarah-morgan-stark · 2 years

Text

Inside the MCU Part One

Thanks to a random fanfiction I found online called 'Any Marvel Fan's Dream' I thought of this. So I'm giving 15% of the credit (Tony Stark pun right there) to 3MC on Quotev.

You wake with a start, panting. You are in a bed in a very dark room, and you’re sweating like heck. Nightmare? Maybe. Then you sit up, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. You crouch down into a crawling position, sweeping your hands back and forth in front of you, trying to navigate to the door of what seems to be your room. You soon see a slim horizontal ray of light that must be the bottom of the bedroom door. You trace your hands upwards, finding the doorknob. You twist it, letting in a lot of light, and letting you see a woman standing in front of your bedroom door.

“Gwen, you were supposed to be up 30 minutes ago!”

“Sorry, Mom.” You say, assuming the woman is your mom.

Her cold glare softens, and she pulls you close to her in a hug that you are too surprised to return. “Oh, Gwen, did you dream about your parents again? I’m so sorry.” She pulls away, grabbing you by the shoulders and bending down to your heighth. You could see tears in her eyes. “But make sure you know that I am always here. Even though I’m your aunt, and not your mom, it doesn’t mean I can’t be a good guardian.” Did something happen to your parents here? “But still, you are late for school. Look,” She says, motioning to your alarm clock which is partly covered with papers. “7:40. Now hurry up.”

You shut the door as you rush to get dressed, pulling off your pajamas, but you stopped in your tracks when, under your clothes, you see….Oh my gosh, is that a spider suit??? You look in your backpack, and find a mask. You even reach back, and yes, the suit has a hood. OH MY GOSH YOU’RE GHOST SPIDER. That would mean you’re Gwen Stacy, and that’s just AWESOME. You have to get to school!! You throw a bunch of clothes that you assume are the school uniform, and grab your backpack, stuffing your mask into the backpack. You run downstairs, into a clean dining room, but rush in the direction of the front door. You see a pile of letters on the table, and quickly memorize the name on them. Lola. You had to call the woman that from now on. Aunt Lola. “Gwen, wait, I’m driving you!!” Aunt Lola comes running out of the kitchen, grabbed her keys, and rushed out the door with you. You drive pretty fast, weaving through the New York traffic. You only know it’s New York because you see the Empire State Building while on the way to school.

Then Aunt Lola pulls up in front of a school, and you don’t even look at it, waving, and saying, “Bye, Aunt Lola, love you!” She replies, and drives away. Then you turn to the GIANT school, and look at it. You see a logo somewhere, and glance down at your jacket. You read the logo. “Midtown School of Science and Technology.” You mutter to yourself. You walk up the steps, and walk randomly through the halls. Then you hear a throat clear behind.

“Miss Stacy?” You turn and see a black woman in a suit jacket behind you.

“Yes, mam?” There’s a ‘mam’ vibe to her, like she has a lot of authority. You glance at the name tag on her shoulder. Monica Warren.

“I’m on my way to my classroom, would you like to accompany me?” “Yes, thank you, mam.” You follow Mrs. Warren to her classroom, where there are many students already seated. You almost stop breathing when you see Tom Holland, and Zendaya. OH MY GOSH. Zendaya is glaring at you, wait why is Zendaya glaring at you???, and Tom Holland has his chin on his palm, staring out the window of the classroom. Oh wait. If you were Gwen Stacy, which you were, then does that mean Tom and Zendaya are actually Peter and MJ??

Your suspicions were confirmed when Mrs. Warren asked, “Mr. Parker, are you with us?”

“Uhh….yeah.” He said, blushing when everyone except you, MJ, and Ned laugh. He turns his attention to the front of the room. Mrs. Warren then launches into a whole bunch of crazy physics problems, but surprisingly, you understand them all easily, and you begin to know why Peter looked so bored. Mrs. Warren asks you a couple questions, which you answer correctly easily. You fly through the rest of the morning’s classes, and lunch soon comes.

You are apparently the odd kid, people shoving you as they walk by, whispering, “Nerd.” You sit alone at lunch, but you’re fine with it. But halfway through lunch, you begin to get chills. You shiver like crazy, and you glance at your arm, and see all of the hairs sticking up, and goosebumps all down your arms.

Is this Spidersense?

You hear a tray clatter, and you look up from where you’re sitting. You see Peter, across the room, shivering like crazy, like you are, but he’s standing up. Apparently he had just got seconds, and got the feeling just before sitting down. He had slammed the tray down, and was now clutching the table. MJ and Ned both stopped eating, and were asking him if he was okay. He didn’t answer, but he started hyperventilating, and you do too, only much quieter. Everyone in the lunchroom has stopped eating, and there is complete silence as everyone watches Peter. He exhales hard, and passes out as you try hard not to do the same.

MJ catches him before he hits his head on the lunchtable, and Ned helps her lug him out of the lunchroom. You follow behind them, making sure they don’t notice. You know what is going on here. Spider-sense. It’s trying to tell him you’re one of his allies. The nurse tells MJ and Ned to go back to class, and you duck into a janitor’s closet as they walk by, going back to the lunchroom, whispering to each other. You slip out of the closet, and the beginning of a headache echoes through your head, but you ignore it.

You tiptoe to the nurse’s office. You peek inside to see Peter lying unconscious on a cot, and the nurse gone. Wow. The nurse is always so observant. You think sarcastically. Someone should fire her, but not yet, because she just provided for you to stay with him for a little bit. Concern and affection spark in your heart and mind as you look at Peter’s limp body, his pale face turned towards you, his eyes shut in sleep, and his mouth open a tiny crack. His right arm hangs of the side of the cot, his left arm resting on his stomach. You pull up a chair next to Peter, and place your hand gently on his forehead, checking for fever just in case you’re wrong, and, no, he wasn’t having spider-sense, he was actually super sick. You feel no fever, so you take your hand off. As soon as your hand comes off, he stirs, and then his eyes open slowly. He furrows his eyebrows and looks around the room, and then looks at you.

“Where am I?”

“You’re in the nurse’s office. You fainted, Peter.” You say with a sweet smile.

“I….know you.” He says, studying your face. “You’re in one of my classes, aren’t you?”

“I’m in all of your classes.” You smile, pondering if you should tell him that you know he’s Spiderman, or that you’re Ghost Spider. You decide not to. You’ll tell him when the time is right.

“What’s your name again?” Peter seemed dazed, and you help him sit up.

“Gwen Stacy.”

“Hey….you’re that 12-year old prodigy….down the aisle….” Peter seemed a little dazed still.

You nod, and he frowns. “What….happened?”

And OF COURSE the nurse comes back in and ruins your moment with TOM HOLLAND, no, you remind yourself, Peter Parker. “Mr. Parker, I have notified your guardians, and they are on their way to collect you.” She glances at you and tells you to go back to class.

You are barely able to keep yourself from refusing to go, and you stand to leave. “Actually, can she stay?” Peter says, looking to the nurse, who reluctantly agrees. You sit back down, and the nurse soon leaves again. Yeah, they definitely need to fire that nurse.

“Thanks for staying, Gwen.” Peter says, and he sounds a little shaky.

“Anytime. So….how do you feel now?”

“My head hurts.” He says, and you notice how quietly he’s talking.

NOW YOU KNOW IT WAS SPIDER-SENSE, SINCE YOU HAVE A HEADACHE TOO!!! That’s almost too exciting for your throbbing head to register. You stand, and ask, “You want something to drink?”

He nods, and puts a hand over his face, shutting his eyes. You grab a glass and fill it, bringing it to Peter. He whispers, “Thanks.” Before putting it to his lips and drinking slowly from it. You sit back at his side, and take the glass when he’s done.

“Peter?” A man’s voice sounds through the hallway, and RDJ OH MY GOSH ROBERT DOWNEY JR. rushes in. No, you remind yourself, he’s Tony Stark here. Tony is wearing a gray suit and sunglasses, but he takes them off immediately. “The nurse called and said you fainted. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, Mr. Stark, I’m fine.”

Tony looks at you, and Peter immediately introduces you. “Mr. Stark, this is my friend Gwen.” You feel yourself blush when he says friend. “And, Gwen, this is Mr. Stark.”

Tony extends a hand, and you shake it enthusiastically, and then hug him, startling both him and Peter. “Mr. Stark, you’re my role model!” You grin, and he soon hugs you back, returning the smile.

“Maybe, since you’re a friend of Peter’s, you could come and work with us in my lab sometime.” You pull away from his embrace, and grin even bigger, nodding. THIS HAS BEEN YOUR DREAM SINCE YOU WERE 5!!!

Peter coughs, reminding you he’s here. You look at him. “Sorry, Peter.”

“It’s fine.” Peter says, standing, but he gets dizzy, and Tony steadies him.

“Now, come on, Pete, I’m taking you to the tower, or do you want to go home?” You smile as you watch them walk out of the nurse’s office, Peter leaning on Tony.

The rest of the day went sooooooo slow. All it was was a bunch of no-brainer physics questions that none of the other kids could seem to get right, and Zendaya, MJ, glaring at you.

But when it’s finally over, you leave your backpack in the dark corner of a random alley, taking your school uniform off eagerly. You’re so excited to swing through New York!!!!!!! You put the mask on out of your backpack, and pull the hood of your spider-suit over your head. Then you do the iconic Spiderman/Ghost Spider hand thing, you know, thumb, index finger, and pinkie finger extended. You hit the top of the alley, and you do the same with your other arm, and use it to slingshot yourself up onto the roofs of the buildings. You swing towards the Empire Building, purposefully low, to let people gawk at you. THIS. IS. AWESOME!!!!!

Part Two soon. I don't know about you guys, but I am SUPER EXCITED about this one.

#peter parker fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #tony stark fanfiction #gwen stacy fanfiction #peter parker x fem!reader

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xtruss · 1 year

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‘I Can’t Believe Miss P is Naked in Front of Me’: The Affair With a Teacher That Changed My Life

Joe Gibson was 17, at school and hoping to get the grades that would earn him a scholarship at Oxford. But then a casual flirtation with his 35-year-old Spanish teacher turned into something far more serious

— Joe Gibson | Saturday 8 July 2023 | Autobiography and Memoir

Illustration: Anna Parini/The Guardian

Just going out to see Nick, friend from school, might stay over, bye!” Ned and Celia, the family friends I’m staying with, barely look up from their enormous dining table. And I’m out the door. I take the most direct route. Sod being seen. I ring her bell and I’m buzzed in. My Spanish teacher, Miss P – Ali – is standing in the doorway, looking flustered. She grabs my hand and pulls me in, kicking the door shut behind me, and before I can say a word or take off my jacket, she’s kissing me. We stand in the hallway for ages, just snogging. Once or twice she holds my head and looks at me intently, then kisses me again. I forget trying to find words to say and let myself soar.

Then, without hesitation or any look or pause, she takes me to her bedroom and undresses me. I undress her. And there we are, naked. Very naked. I want to make excuses for looking ridiculous with swimming trunk tan lines, and not being built like the first XV boys. Perhaps sensing my self-consciousness, she speaks, and her voice is warm and sexy. “Your hair is lighter.”

“It’s the sun, I expect, and my sister dyed it … it really doesn’t matter. You’re … ” I want to say something nice in return. I don’t care that I’m looking her up and down, I’m probably salivating like a cartoon dog, but I can’t believe she’s all naked in front of me. I say the first thing, anything, that comes into my head. “You’re completely naked and your skin’s all olivey and milky.”

When we have sex, it is slow and gentle. Probably a good thing, because anything more energetic and it would be all over very quickly, for me. Afterwards, we talk for a bit. She tells me she wrote to me not long after I went to Italy for the Easter break to tell me to forget about her and that nothing could happen between us. But then she says that in one of my postcards I wrote about going to a party with some Italian teenagers and she didn’t like that, and then she couldn’t stop thinking about it.

I tell her how I felt being so far away and that I was aching to get back, even though I didn’t know what would be waiting for me. We don’t say much more. We look at each other a lot. Then we sleep.

When at last we venture out of the bedroom, it’s already after midday. We don’t bother dressing. Miss P doesn’t open the big shutters, which I find exciting, like we’re fugitives. We listen to music, talk about books, eat and drink and fuck, then, as the sky darkens, we return to the bedroom.

We do exactly the same the next day and night and I’m in heaven. By the third morning, I know all about her family; where she went to school and what she did at university; that she had a serious, long-term relationship when she was in her 20s, but it ended badly; how she fell in love with Spain and would love to show me Barcelona.

I tell her quite a few things as well, but I can’t compete. At 17, I don’t have anything like as much to say about my life. Really, I haven’t started living it properly yet, and she’s 35 after all. So, I tell her mainly about my dreams and ambitions to be a singer or an actor and that, when I was younger, I wanted to be a ballet dancer or racing driver. That I’m excited about trying for an Oxford scholarship next year, but crapping myself about the entrance exams. I tell her again about my parents’ separation and how that came so soon after my mother’s cancer treatment. That my parents enrolled me in this school, or the “top public school” as Mum insists on telling everyone, 150 miles from my home. That she will be moving house in the summer so that I’ll be living with her for my final year. That I haven’t spoken to Dad since Christmas. I tell her about my uncle and that I want to go sailing with him when I’ve finished school, perhaps even across the Atlantic.

That evening I put my clothes back on and, this time, when we hold each other by the front door, I am not sad or frustrated. Everything has changed again, but it feels good.

“See you at school,” I grin.

It is in the spring of 1992 that what starts as a casual flirtation between me and Miss P becomes rapidly more intimate – partnering her in the dance revue, the lift home in her car, the goodbye kiss, and finally, just before the end of term, the invitation to her flat, where one thing leads to another, and an afternoon on her sofa sees a lot more than kissing.

“Have a lovely time in Italy,” she says, as I go out the door, after that first time.

“You, too,” I reply, automatically.

When can I see you again? I want to ask, but I am afraid of the answer. I started to speak but she beats me to it.

“Don’t get seen. Just walk straight out and down the road. And listen: don’t tell anyone.” She grabs my sleeve. “You won’t tell anyone, will you? It has to be a secret.”

When school resumes, every lesson starts with a lecture about how academically crucial this term is. How the exams coming up are of critical significance for our final year and will determine not only what places we might be able to secure at university, but have a bearing of great magnitude on our career prospects, which in turn will impact on the house we hope to buy, the car we drive, the clothes we wear, whom we marry, the holidays we take, the lives of our children and children’s children.

A group of us share stories of our Easter breaks: Tom’s off-piste skiing in Courchevel; Chris’s driving lessons with a promise of a new car if he gets straight As this term; Ant’s National Youth Orchestra tour. I mention Italy but don’t get very far. Everyone wants to talk about Glastonbury: who’s going, who’s got a tent, which bands are playing. I lie back and stare up at the pale, cloudless sky and let them get on with it. They can jump ahead, but I’m quite happy losing myself in thoughts of last weekend.

Nick is speculating about which girls from our year group might be going to the festival. I tune in, but a part of me wants to jump up and yell, Who gives a shit about those girls? I fucked Miss P. What do you think of that? Boom!

“I’m wrapped around her, stroking her breasts. I call them breasts now, not tits; more grown up”

The look on their faces would be priceless. Maybe I wouldn’t say fucked; it’s too harsh. Slept with? Made love to?

“What are you grinning about, Joe?” I look up again. They’re all staring at me. “Nothing,” I mumble, then add, “girls.”

This seems to satisfy them, and they return to their conversation. The fact is, I can never, will never, tell them about me and Miss P.

‘So, you’re coming to my sketching classes,” she says, referring to the extracurricular activity she’s going to be running on Thursday afternoons. We’re lying in bed. She’s on her back and I’m wrapped around her, stroking her breasts. I call them breasts now, not tits; more grown up. We’ve been in bed for over an hour and it’s still not dark. We didn’t even finish the first glass of wine.

“Did you get many sign-ups?” I ask, hoping not.

“Actually, only four.”

“Still too many.” I bury my head in her pillow.

“Hey, at least we’ll be spending time together.” She slides out of bed and disappears to the bathroom. I stare at the ceiling and try not to ask myself questions, but they come. Like, what is this? How did it happen? What’s next? I don’t have any answers, so I lie back and distract myself with the sounds in her flat, in her road. The toilet flushes. It’s weird but sort of sexy.

We stay up late, sitting on the living room floor, with pizza and chocolate and wine. “Would you like to watch a film?” she asks, and crawls over to a box by the television. I join to inspect her collection. It’s mostly European cinema and the odd costume drama. We select Manon des Sources and snuggle up on the sofa.

Halfway through the film she asks, “How are you going to get home?”

“Home? What, tomorrow?”

“You can’t stay here tonight, you know that. You’ve – we’ve – both got school tomorrow.”

I’m gutted. “I thought I’d be staying here tonight. Do I have to go?”

“We can’t risk you being seen in the morning. Some of the teachers use this road as a cut-through. You could easily be spotted.” She’s practical when I want her to be apologetic and as disappointed as me.

“I’ll walk, then.” I get up.

“Wait, you don’t have to go yet,” she protests. “There’s the rest of the film.”

“No, thanks, it’s too late. I’d better go.”

I feel hurt and stupider by the minute. I take my clothes into the bathroom and dress quickly. She doesn’t knock. When I come out, she’s standing by the door.

“I’m sorry,” she says and kisses my face. “We just have to be so careful. You understand, don’t you? We mustn’t attract attention.”

“I understand,” I repeat robotically. I leave and walk home, straight through the school campus, smoking.

I’m embarrassed by my behaviour, and it’s made worse when I have Miss P for Spanish, last lesson on Saturday morning. She has the expressionless statue face down to a T, giving nothing away, whereas I’m feeling crap about last night. It was so childish of me to strop out, but I’d waited all week to be with her. She could have said something earlier in the evening, then I’d have known what was coming.

She goes around handing back our exercise books and places mine in front of me. With her body and face turned away, she almost imperceptibly taps the cover twice with her index finger. Something tells me not to open the book, so I put it in my bag.

Back in the house, no one around, I dig it out. I don’t find anything at first but one of the pages catches as I’m leafing through, and out falls a tiny quarter-size envelope with a single “J” on the front. Inside, a little card: Sorry. Come back tonight, for a proper night. XX

It’s November 1992. I stand in her sitting room, in my blazer and tie, my school bag still hooked over my shoulder. Ali’s by the windows, closing the shutters. Despite her efforts, they don’t close fully; there are always gaps. She gives up, drops her arms by her sides, and looks at me, at last.

“I’m pregnant.”

“How?” is all I can ask, my bag slipping.

“You tell me how. Obviously, you weren’t telling the truth.”

“What? What does that mean?” I can hear my voice rising already.

“You said your balls didn’t drop until you were in your teens,” she says, adding, “or something,” sounding equally defensive and on the attack. “And that means, because I read about it, I assumed – ”

“You assumed … what?” I cut her off, my words thick in my throat, slow with disbelief, my neck burning, my bag strap slipping through damp hands.

“That you couldn’t have children,” she says, in a tone only fractionally less certain than before.

I stare at the floor, don’t answer for a whole minute.

I want to scream, “Is this a fucking joke? What fucking planet are you actually on? Instead, I just stand there, my head ringing in alarm.

I dare not open my mouth until the voice in my head has stopped swearing.

“It’s a phrase. A thing you say, that’s all.” I’m struggling to find the right words, made harder by the realisation that this grownup – someone twice my age – a teacher for God’s sake, doesn’t know this. My eyes fixed to a spot on the carpet, I say, “It’s basic biology, Ali. How don’t … I mean … didn’t you study puberty?”

“Yes, but … ”

I glance up. Now she’s staring at the carpet. I haven’t seen this look on her face before. I don’t know what to say or do.

“Shit,” she groans, then sweeps past me into the bathroom, leaving me alone with the distinct impression I’m still on the wrong side of an argument I didn’t start.

“Is this my fault?” I ask out loud, to an empty room.

I stay with Ali after the abortion. She isn’t hungry, so we don’t eat. I run her a bath and listen at the door in case she needs anything. I expect to hear her crying, releasing her emotions now she’s home. But there’s no sound from the bathroom, except for the occasional splash.

In bed, we don’t touch, but she accepts a kiss before turning over to lie on her back. Despite the exhaustion, I can’t sleep for ages. Then, when I do, I’m awoken by Ali moving about, restless.

We say goodbye in the morning, both of us with red-rimmed, sleep-deprived eyes.

“I could stay a bit longer if you like?” I say, although if I’m being honest, I would quite like to go home.

“It’s fine. I probably need some time on my own today.” We hold each other in the corridor by her front door.

“I’m sorry,” we say, at the same time, which is awkward. It’s strange how both saying sorry makes it sound less meaningful, but she manages a fragile laugh. She strokes the side of my head.

“Please, don’t ever leave me, will you?” she says, her eyes searching mine for an answer. “And don’t ever tell anyone.”

“Of course not,” I say. What else can I say?

As autumn gives way to winter, I decide to take my lead from Ali about the abortion. If she wants to talk things through, I’m ready for it, though it’s still messing with my head, and I don’t really know what I can or should say. It’s been six weeks now, and she never brings it up. Instead, she talks for ages about her year groups (which is boring), about some of the other teachers (they’re even more weird than I thought), and what she thinks about the pupils in my Spanish class (mainly about the stack of exams she must mark over the holiday).

“Including yours,” she says pointedly. Finally, she asks, “So, do you think you’ve got a place at Oxford, then?” I’m pleased she’s taken an interest, at last, in the entrance exam I sat a few weeks earlier, although her tone gives her away. She’s obviously not really interested.

“Dunno.” I shrug. “I wasn’t very focused.”

“Huh,” she mutters, lifting her coffee cup to her mouth, looking away as she sips. “Why not?”

I stare at her across the breakfast table.

“Well, because of what happened, just before.”

“What do you mean?” A slight frown appears, and it hits me that her question is genuine. I shift uncomfortably, feeling too big for my chair.

“You know … the baby?”

“Sorry, what?” Ali’s eyebrows shoot up. Her voice remains controlled, low, but the atmosphere in the room cools several degrees. “Are you … please tell me you’re not going to make that all about you. Because – ”

“No, no, of course not,” I cut in.

“Because, just to be clear, that would be inappropriate.”

She looks down at the table, like she’s thinking hard about her next words, like she might be giving me difficult feedback on a homework assignment. She lifts her head. I feel so small under her glare.

“It was my body, and you don’t see me whingeing, do you?”

Later, we make up, in bed, in our usual way.

“Her hand patters across the faint hairs on my chest. ‘If you go to Oxford, what happens to me?’”

“Thank you for asking about Oxford, anyway,” I say, when I think it’s safe enough to do so. “I know you’re not that interested.”

“You do understand why, don’t you?” Her hand patters across the faint hairs on my chest.

“No, I don’t, actually.”

“Seriously?” Her hand pauses. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Erm … ”

“If you go to Oxford, what happens to me? What will I do? Had you thought about that?”

The fact is, she’s probably right. I haven’t had the energy to think about what happens to me and her – us – if I get into Oxford. Does it have to be the end just because I’m not nearby? I figure now is not the moment to repeat my plans for deferring my university place and taking a gap year sailing across the Atlantic.

Illustration: Anna Parini/The Guardian

When I leave the flat that afternoon, my mind is spinning. One minute, I’m on a complete high, fuelled with adrenaline from 24 hours with Ali. Next minute, the rollercoaster is plummeting, because, as usual, I’ve opened my stupid mouth, rammed my foot in it, made a dreadful mess, wasted our precious time with my immaturity. When will I grow up?

If my night with Ali was hard, it’s not much easier when I get home. In fact, it’s never easy these days, since Mum moved closer and I had to leave Ned and Celia’s. It’s only been a few months, but it feels like a lifetime. The dutiful son back at home, no longer free to roam. Or at least, no longer free to see Ali as much.

As if I couldn’t feel more crap about myself, Mum is waiting for me in the kitchen, with an odd expression on her face. Sort of pity and disappointment rolled into one tilt of the head. In front of her, on the dining table, is an envelope.

“I’m sorry,” she says, her eyes following my gaze to the letter. “You didn’t get into Oxford.”

“What? How do you know?”

“I opened it completely by mistake, sweetie,” she says, very quickly on the defensive.

“Jesus, Mum.”

At Christmas Ali suggests it’s time to “take things further”. I’m excited, but a bit confused, so she spells it out: she thinks we should get engaged. And she doesn’t hang about. By New Year’s Eve, she’s been to a jeweller, and I’ve blown my entire savings, £775, on a ring.

As the spring term gets under way, we reprise our roles at school, maintain a vigilant distance. Like hitting the reset button, except now we’re carrying an even bigger secret around with us. The story is, she had a whirlwind reunion with her – fictional – Spanish boyfriend, Carlos, over the Christmas break and – ta-da! – he proposed.

Meanwhile, I’ve put that “city of dreaming spires” fantasy behind me. As Ali said, what would happen to her if I went to study in another city for three or four years? We’re engaged now; it wouldn’t be fair. For now, I’m keeping everything crossed for an offer from the local uni, which I should hear about soon. The only hitch is Mum, who’s made it clear she still expects me home on time and at weekends, insisting my grades are more important than ever, that this is no time for slacking off.

“Listen, I’ve had an idea,” Ali says one day at school, her voice animated. “I’ve got the perfect solution to kill two birds with one stone.

“What do you mean?”

She explains quickly, as a low hum of voices and hurrying feet builds in the corridor outside. The two birds are my grades and our lack of time together. Her idea is risky. In fact, it sounds like complete madness.

“OK, so I’m going to write to your mother, or maybe I’ll phone her,” she begins.

“Whoa! You’re gonna call my mum?”

“Don’t interrupt. I’m going to propose giving you some private tutorials to get your grades back on track.”

“Wait a minute,” I say. “There’s no chance she’s going to pay for private lessons on top of my school fees.”

“Aha! That’s where you’re wrong.” She claps her hands. “Because I won’t be charging, and anyway, I’ll make it seem like it’s her idea. She’ll feel as though she’s enlisting my help.”

“Hang on, hang on, how — ” I run a hand over my hair and down my neck, trying to keep up. I can’t see how this is Mum’s idea.

“I haven’t got to the best bit. The other bird!” She drums on her desk. “Where do you think these tutorials are going to take place?” She grins.

“At … your place?”

“Wrong! At yours!” She laughs, and my jaw drops open.

“Are you kidding me? That will blow our cover.”

“Not with this, it won’t.” She holds up her ring finger, wiggling it with the pad of her thumb so that the diamond catches the light. “Won’t she be delighted for me, when I tell her the happy news about me and Carlos?”

I’m about to answer, when the door swings wide open and an unstoppable herd of uniforms and bags piles in.

“Right, thank you. Hand it in by next lesson,” I hear Ali call, as I’m spun out of the room by the twist of bodies.

Home tutoring works just as Ali planned – and eventually increases to weekly visits. It’s great, especially when Mum disappears and we can slip into my bedroom, though I have mixed feelings when I watch Mum and Ali chatting away like friends over coffee. I’ve lost count of the number of lies we’ve told, so I can’t tell whether it’s bad or harmless that we’ve pulled Mum into our web.

What I am sure of is that I have split myself in two. I’ve carved out two distinct versions of me. Old me, who goes to school, sits in lessons, does homework, sings in chapel, chats to the lads about nothing important. Other me, who exists in a parallel universe of secrecy orbiting Ali, lying on demand, pretending I’m not a teenager but a real grown-up man.

Then, the worst happens. We are exposed. It’s a couple of weeks before school breaks up for Easter. I’m in the library, working on a German essay about Schubert, which I intend to regurgitate in the A-level written exam next term. From the other end of the long room, I hear the door open and close emphatically, then feet walking hurriedly down the aisle. I look up.

It’s Ali. I’m not overly surprised to see her. She has a copy of my timetable, so that she always knows where I am, if she needs me. In a study period, like today, the library is a good bet. Her face is white, and she’s lost her composure. Furtively glancing around, checking the other bays beyond mine to make sure we’re alone, she sinks into a chair on the opposite side of the table, head in her hands.

“I have just been spoken to,” she begins, her breath catching in her throat as she tries to gather herself, “at break, in the staffroom. A warning. Jesus!” She throws her head back, lips pursed tightly, eyes wet at their rims, wide as though she’s fighting the impulse to blink.

“A warning – about what?” I say, frowning.

“Us,” she says, breathing heavily, staring at me, before wiping her eyes with her hand.

Someone – Mr Roberts, the teacher who spoke to her, wouldn’t say who – told him that someone else had told him that they’d heard Ali had been seen with a pupil. I ask where we’d been seen, by whom, and who are all these teachers spreading this shit?

“It’s a rumour mill,” she says wearily, like it’s not her first time, “and, evidently, it’s on the move, if that many people are talking.”

“Shit, shit, shit,” is all I can say.

“Yes, exactly, shit,” she adds.

Over the following days, paranoia grows inside me. In every lesson, every assembly, at lunch in the dining hall, in the library, I see faces staring at me, eyeing me with suspicion, and I’m convinced they all know, the whole school. Any minute, there will be a summons to the headmaster’s office and that will be that. I’ll be out. And shit, what about Ali – will she lose her job? Or worse, face the police? Ali said once that our relationship isn’t illegal, so they can’t lock her up or anything.

Soon, it hits me; the teachers are ignoring me. They don’t return my greetings in the corridor. When I have my hand up in class, I’m overlooked.

Then Mr Grice makes a snide comment when addressing the German set about final preparations for the written exams. “Everyone needs to pull out all the stops to score highly in these papers. There are no short cuts – at least not if you’re studying German.” He pauses, shuffles something around on his desk, then adds, not looking up. “Perhaps it’s different if you’re taking another language and getting special attention.”

None of the others appear to register the comment, but he may as well have walked over and landed a massive fist in my gut.

Next, my other German teacher, Mr Siddel, someone who, Ali tells me, has always had a thing for her, starts picking on me. He takes any opportunity to single me out with particularly difficult questions, usually around grammar.

“Got a bit of a dandruff problem, haven’t you, Gibson?” he says out of the blue one day. “You want to get that treated,” he persists, as several bottoms shift uneasily in their seats. “Then again, it’s all part of being an adolescent, isn’t it?”

The silence that follows seems to stretch on and on. I try to breathe, calm and steady, hold my nerve. But I fail. I snap.

“I might be an adolescent, but at least I’m not a … cunt.”

The next morning, after house assembly, when all the boys have dispersed, my tutor, Mr Batsford, calls me into his office. I sit, numb, in the chair on the other side of his desk, awaiting the inevitable bollocking.

But it doesn’t come. Instead, he considers me through steepled fingers pressed to his mouth.

“I don’t know what’s going on, and in many ways, I don’t want to know. What I do know is that you can’t call a teacher a – that word. Even if we’ve all been close, on occasion,” he adds in muffled tones.

“Am I going to be expelled, sir?”

“What? Lord no. You’re going to stay, sit your exams, do your best, and keep your head down.” After another weary pause, he continues. “I’ve heard what people, my colleagues, have been muttering, and I have to tell you, I don’t like mutterings, gossip, tittle-tattle,” he says, with feeling. “However, they’ve been hard to ignore, these things that are being talked about … about … you and Miss … So, I decided to speak to her myself.” At this, he hoists himself upright, while I sink lower.

“I am content with what she told me. The extra tuition was requested, I understand, by your mother. I respect why Miss P decided to keep this arrangement under her proverbial hat. She also explained the reason you’ve been seen with her off campus.” His tone changes, softens. “I just wish you’d come to me first, Joseph, when you were experiencing these difficulties at home. I had no idea how your parents’ divorce was affecting you.”

‘I was thinking about you this morning, about everything you’ve told me,” my friend Pete says, one day in the spring of 2010. I am 34, living on a canal boat, out of my depth and on my own for the first time in 17 years. Pete and I have been meeting up every weekend since I arrived on the cut, with me cycling along the canal to his mooring. It’s not therapy, he says, he’s just happy to listen. He’s watched me fall and picked me up, got me back on a level, of sorts.

“‘You do realise, don’t you,’ my friend Pete says years later, ‘it’s abuse, lad’”

“You realise, don’t you,” he continues, “if that happened in a school today, there’d be police, lawyers, a court case. It’s a criminal offence and there’s good reason for that. Look at the toll it’s taken on you. No wonder you’re not over it. It’s abuse, lad.”

“Oh, come on, Pete. I let it happen. It takes two – ”

“Don’t even finish that two-to-tango bollocks. It’s not the point. She was 35. You were 17, for Christ’s sake. A kid.

“What I want to know is, what happened next? I mean, you were still with her when you left school. When did it end?” I sip my beer and turn sideways so I can look out on to the bank and the bridge. I stroke my hand across my face and cup my chin.

“About four weeks ago.”

I run Pete through the main events of the intervening years. How she convinced me not to take my gap year and go straight to university. How three years later, aged 21, I stumbled out of there with a second-class degree, a ring on my finger, a sensible haircut, and a one-year-old in a buggy.

“Wait, what? You had a baby while you were still a student?”

“Yep.” I shake my head. “Married at the end of my first year. Baby at the end of my second year.”

“Fuck!” Pete fills the cabin with noise.

“That third year was surreal. Ali was still teaching and I would have to bring the baby into school at break times so Ali could feed him. I’d stand there in the staff room, a pariah, surrounded by my former teachers. I always expected someone to voice their disapproval, make a snide remark. But no, they never said anything. Just blanked me.”

“Wow. Do you think they were in denial?”

“Possibly. That is the default position of those types of schools.”

Ali left teaching as soon as she got pregnant with our second. I think the school was only too glad to see the back of her. How they let her stay when our first was born, I still don’t really know. Perhaps they were anxious about repercussions if they made her redundant, even despite the circumstances. “Posh School Sacks Pregnant Teacher” wouldn’t have been an attractive headline.

After that I changed jobs every couple of years, chasing the bigger salary to keep everyone happy – “everyone” being Ali and her parents. Basically, she made the decisions. We were living according to her plan.

I explain how, eventually, I burnt out. A midlife crisis, I suppose, except it was about 15 or 20 years before most men. The doctor signed me off work with exhaustion. The strain chipped away. As much as I loved being a dad, I was failing as a husband. Failed as a son, too; all those lies.

I was numb inside. Bit by bit, the barrel of my life was emptying and then, something happened. I began to see a new path opening before me. Or, at least, a path that diverged from Ali’s. For years, I still believed a time would come for our adventures. That we would leave the cul-de-sac of our life and try something different with the kids – live somewhere new, another part of the country, another country entirely. But she had no intention of changing her life.

Pete and I sit staring at the deck, both locked in our own thoughts.

“I have to ask,” he says, at last, lifting his head. “While you’re beating yourself up about the past, what’s Ali doing? I mean, does she feel guilty about what she did?”

“Ha! Are you kidding?” I snort. “Not for a second. No way. Lately, of course, she’s just focused on her anger towards me for leaving her. I get that. But Ali feel guilty? Ali take responsibility for how this all started? Not a chance. As far as she’s concerned, this is all on me.”

— Joe Gibson is a Pseudonym. This is an edited extract from Seventeen, published by Simon & Schuster on 20 July.

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toastedkiwi · 3 years

Text

Surprise

Summary: the Avengers crash your date with your fiancé.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Fiancé!Reader, Pepper Potts x Assistant!Reader (platonic), Avengers x Reader (platonic)

“Is that Y/n?” Clint pointed out.

You’re in a Christian Dior dress that’s way above your pay grade. Your hair is pulled back in loose low bun and you have loose strands of hair hair framing your soft makeup look. Your glasses have been exchange for contacts. You’re all smiley with your red painted lips talking with the man across from you. The man is in a classic Armani suit with a watch that puts Tony’s to shame.

“Oh my god, she’s a sugar baby,” Sam gasped.

“No, she’s not,” Natasha said but then she sees the diamonds on your neck and on your wrist. “Okay maybe she is.”

The whole gaggle of heroes are over at the bar waiting for their private room. Steve made most of them come early because early is on time and on time is late.

“What’s a sugar baby?” Steve asked quietly and he’s quite confused.

“I’m not explaining it here,” Bucky said.

“Wait, you know what it means?” Sam asked.

“Yes, I know shit and I know that Y/n is not a sugar baby,” Bucky said.

“How do you know that?” Wanda asked.

“Can’t you read minds?” Bucky sassed.

Tony finally strolled in with Pepper and Morgan. Happy and May followed in with Peter and Ned.

“Woah,” the boys said seeing the interior of the high end restaurant.

“Pep, is that your assistant?” Tony asked spotting you over near the band that’s playing some jazz.

“What do your glasses tell you, Tony?” Pepper asked knowing it’s you.

“Facial rec says it’s her— I’m gonna say hi,” Tony said.

“Don’t,” Pepper said.

It’s too late. Tony headed over ready to embarrass you. He came up to your table and looked at your date.

“Wayne,” Tony said unimpressed.

“Stark,” Bruce said with a smirk on his face.

“You’re not stealing Pepper’s assistant,” Tony said. “C’mon, Y/n, let’s go.”

“He’s my fiancé, Mr. Stark,” you said.

“How could you be with him?” Tony said in disbelief.

“Tony,” Pepper said coming over.

“I don’t work for you,” you said. “I work for your wife.”

“He’s like my enemy,” Tony said. “The one I can’t fight because it’s illegal.”

“I thought Pepper is the CEO of Stark Industries,” Bruce said. “And it’s good to see you again, Pepper.”

“How could you be with someone who supports the Justice League and not us?” Clint asked popping out of nowhere with the other Avengers.

“Not everything is about you guys,” you said.

“Don’t say that, it bruises his little ego,” Sam said.

“Rude,” Clint said.

Your fiancé stood up and held out his hand.

“Hi, I’m Bruce Wayne,” he said.

You couldn’t be more embarrassed as he’s introducing himself to everyone he hasn’t met and he’s turning the charm on. You can tell he’s enjoying this.

“You should join us for dinner,” Sam said.

You haven’t seen Bruce in awhile as he lives in Gotham and you’re either in New York or California traveling with your boss. And Bruce is a very busy man especially with his nightlife. You savor the time you have with him as it’s very precious to you and him.

“Maybe another time,” Bruce said with a smile. “Tonight’s about my beautiful fiancé.”

You felt your cheeks heat up.

“Avengers, the room is ready,” the hostess said.

“Alright, c’mon, people,” Tony said ushering them to follow the hostess.

“See ya, Bats,” Bucky said ever so quietly to your fiancé.

“James,” Bruce said.

“Bye, Bucky,” you said.

Bucky smiled and he squished your cheeks before heading off to deal with his coworkers. Your fiancé grinned knowing that Bucky is very fond of you and treats you like a little sister.

“That was fun,” Bruce smiled.

“Thank you for saying no,” you said.

“It was nothing, Honey,” he said.

#bruce wayne x female reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x fiancé!reader #pepper potts x assistant!reader platonic #avengers x reader platonic #marvel dc crossover #bruce wayne x fem!reader #batman x female reader #batman x y/n #batman x you

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cloudspotterclub · 2 years

Text

traumatic (j.b.b.)

Pairing: avenger!bucky x parker!reader

Summary: You're convinced Bucky hates you, and you fear the worst when you accidentally insult him.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: spoilers for civil war, mentions of murder, very mild enemies to lovers, barely-there angst, mostly crack and fluff

a/n: This is my very first post ever! This fic honestly doesn't fit anywhere in the mcu timeline lol, let's just pretend civil war never happened and everyone lives together in peace.

I try not to stare, I really do. I never do it on purpose, except if someone says something really scummy and I want them to know they did. But Bucky hardly ever says anything at all, and definitely nothing to warrant a stare-down. My eyes just happen to wander over to him a lot.

As he shifts awkwardly for what must be the thousandth time, I avert my eyes for the thousandth time too. He must think I’m a freak or some wacko groupie that the Avengers pity enough to bring along everywhere. I guess the latter isn’t too far off—I suspect Peter has me over so often because I wouldn’t go out otherwise.

There he is now, barging into the painfully silent kitchen with his ever-oblivious grin. “Hey, cuz! Bucky! What’re you two up to?”

I cringe a little at the ‘you two’. We couldn’t be sitting farther away, him at the dining table staring out the windows and me at the kitchen island. I’m not even sure Bucky’s noticed Peter’s entrance.

“I’m just doing some work stuff, Pete.”

Peter glances over the empty island and frowns, “On your phone? Isn’t it your day off?”

God damn it, Parker.

I try to keep my voice steady to no avail. “Uh, yeah, you know how my boss is. I’m just sending over some files and there’s, like, better reception out here.”

Truth is, I came out here at 4 AM just because I felt like soaking the morning in. I didn’t think Bucky was going to be out here already looking all somber and melancholic. I had debated sneaking away, but he’d already seen me, so I just wordlessly made my way to one of the stools by the island and he went back to studying the skyline.

And that’s where we’ve been for the past three hours. But I wasn’t going to explain that to Peter in front of Bucky. Soaking the morning in? Who’d believe that? He’d think I’m even more of a stalker.

“Huh. I’m telling you, cuz, you should just come work for Mr. Stark. You love administration stuff, right? Ms. Potts is barely his assistant anymore, and I hear she’s looking for a replacement.” Peter drops his voice to an exaggerated whisper, “Rumor is there’s a baby on the way!”

I roll my eyes, “It’s not nice to speculate on whether someone’s pregnant, Peter. Besides, I can’t work here, it’s basically nepotism.”

“I guess, but Mr. Stark’s a nepotism baby. I’m sure he wouldn’t judge you.”

“Peter! You can’t say that—he was orphaned. It’s awful what happened to his parents.” The moment the words leave my mouth, I freeze. Oh. My God.

I can’t bring myself to actually look, but judging by the way Peter’s jaw is hanging open, Bucky definitely heard that.

Suddenly, Peter doesn’t seem so keen on conversation. “Er, I’m gonna head back to my room. Have a streaming party thing with Ned and MJ. Can’t remember why I even came out here in the first place, to be honest. So. See ya, cuz! Bye…Mr. Barnes!”

And with that, Peter disappears and it’s just me and the ex-murderous super soldier I deeply offended.

After cringing for a few more seconds, I build up the courage to look over at him. His eyes are still trained on the skyscrapers littering the city, but something in his demeanor seems different. Is he…holding back a smile?

I can’t do anything but stare incredulously at him. Is this what he looks like right before he goes all Winter Soldier and kills everyone in his direct vicinity? I’ve only ever seen him smile when Steve talks about their days before the serum, so I’m not really sure what to make of this. I think what I’m feeling is fear.

As the thought occurs that I should probably leave, Bucky clears his throat and his eyes meet mine as I’m halfway off the stool. “You don’t have to go.”

“Oh.” I don’t think I’m blinking at all as I sit back down. “I just thought—you know—maybe it’d be better if I left after I—after—”

“What? After you shamed me for the most traumatic experience of my life?” He deadpans, arms across his chest.

I try to swallow the giant lump in my throat. He’s the one staring me dead in the eye now. But definitely not in the way I’d always imagined he would.

With his hair cut short, freshly shaven face, and casual attire, he looks a lot less intimidating than when I first saw him on the news in the full Winter Soldier getup. Still though, everything about his stance feels like he’s challenging me, waiting to strike. I don’t know what he’s waiting for—I couldn’t win in a fight against a feral cat, let alone an Avenger.

Just as I’m contemplating sending a prayer up to a god I don’t believe in, Bucky chuckles. “Relax, I’m kidding. I know you didn’t mean it like that.”

Despite his light tone, I’m still mapping out my escape as he saunters over and takes the seat across from me. “You don’t have to be so antsy around me all the time, you know. I’m not going to kill you.”

I grimace a little at the slight hurt in his voice. “Right, no, I know that. I’m sorry. I just get so awkward around you and end up saying some dumb shit that offends you and only makes you hate me more. I’m really sorry, Bucky.”

He furrows his eyebrows and leans forward a little, “You think I hate you?”

I mimic his confused expression as my words stumble out, “Well, yeah? You never talk to me or look at me, and I feel like you don’t like me hanging around the tower and intruding on your space. That’s why I try really hard to stay out of your way. Which, obviously, doesn’t always work very well.” I close my eyes and cringe at the disaster that was this morning.

Bucky’s lips turn up for the second time today, which is almost scarier than when he glares. Actually, I don’t know if scary is the right word. But I really don’t know how much longer I can handle his intense gaze on me.

“I thought you stayed away because you didn’t like me,” he says, cocking his head slightly.

“What? How could you think that?”

“Like you said, you talk to everyone but me.” He shrugs indifferently, but the twitch in his mouth tells me he cares more than he’s letting on. “Every time I walk in the room, you come up with an excuse to leave. Doesn’t feel too good, to be honest with you.”

I bite my lower lip, the guilt really piling on now. That’s what gives me the courage to look him in the eye again, and suddenly I can’t remember why I was ever afraid of this man whose eyes are pleading for answers. I cast my gaze down at his tightly-laced fingers on the marble between us. His knuckles are turning white.

It doesn’t seem like I’ll get another shot at explaining this, and I might as well get it all out there. So, with caution, I move to the stool right next to Bucky. I suck in a sharp breath when he adjusts and our arms brush together. I can feel his dark eyes boring into the side of my face, urging me to go on. So I do.

“Bucky, I don’t know if you’ve noticed or if my bratty cousin has let it slip, but I kind of had a giant crush on you when we first met.” At this, I can feel him sit up straighter. There’s no going back now. “I used to be really intimidated when you came around, and I didn’t know how to talk to you because you were this cool, mysterious, smoldering Avenger and I was just Peter’s civilian cousin. Plus, you were never as talkative as Sam or Tony. In retrospect, I probably overthought your quietness as a dislike towards me, and so I thought it’d be better to keep my distance. I guess we were both wrong in our assumptions.”

I let myself look up at him, but I can’t decipher the look on his face. His brows are knit together, mouth set in a straight line. His hands have unclenched, each resting on one knee.

I lower my voice, though I don’t mean for it to be so shaky. “I never meant to make you feel unwanted, Bucky. I’m truly sorry.”

He tears his gaze away from me and stands up off of the stool.

Fuck, you’ve really done it this time, you blabbering idiot, I think, squeezing my eyes closed to avoid having to see him storm off.

But instead of hearing his footsteps walking away, I feel a sudden warmth. My eyes shoot open only to see Bucky leaning over me with a hand cupping my cheek. I’ve always known he was big in stature, but I’ve never felt smaller than with him towering over me, making it impossible to see anything that isn’t him. Of course, that might also be because his icy blue eyes are holding me hostage. My breath hitches like I’m seeing him for the first time again.

I don’t realize I’m leaning backwards until I lose my balance and the damn stool gives out from underneath me. Before I can even brace myself, Bucky’s already got both arms around me, his chest pressing against mine, and I’ve never had more trouble catching my breath.

His eyes are now frantically searching over me as he sets me on my feet. “Are you alright? Hey, why are you breathing like that? Shit, you didn’t hit your head on the table, did you?” He punctuates that last sentence with his hands brushing against the back of my head, feeling for any bumps.

The lines on his face deepen, “Doll, say something so I know you’re okay.”

“I’m fine!” I sputter, “Uh, just lost my balance there. And. Forgot how to speak, apparently. Really took me by surprise there, ha. Stools—they’ll get ya!” What the fuck what the fuck.

Realization dawns on Bucky’s face and he’s flashing that smile again. “Ah, stools. Right.” He shifts his weight, dropping his hands to his side as the tension breaks between us. It’s quickly picked back up when he reaches for my hand, which has dissolved into nervous tremors, as has the rest of my body.

He carefully envelops both his hands around mine and takes a step forward. Whiffs of cinnamon and something woody are wafting over me, and I’m becoming increasingly aware that his breathing isn’t much steadier than mine. I have to crane my neck up to meet his eyes again.

His voice drops to a whisper, “For the record, I’m pretty sure I had a crush on you first.”

I shake my head in disbelief, “There’s no way.”

A little half-smile settles on his face as he nods, “Steve’ll tell ya. The first time you visited the compound.”

“Wait, you weren’t there when I first visited. It was just Peter, Tony, Steve, and Bruce.”

He gives a weak chuckle, “No, I was there. I was supposed to introduce myself, but then I saw you with everyone and I completely lost my nerve. I turned right around and spent the rest of the night beating myself up over it. S’pose that’s also why I didn’t talk to you much even after we got properly acquainted.”

My eyes are about to fall out of my head because there is no way Bucky Barnes has just admitted to being intimidated by me. Not this gorgeous, sweet, well-intentioned man that crosses my mind a million times a day.

I feel a light tap on my cheek and focus back on Bucky’s concerned face, “Hey, doll, you’re doing it again. You sure you’re alright?”

“No.” My mouth can’t keep up with all the thoughts clouding over my mind. “You keep calling me doll.”

At that, Bucky’s eyes widen and he quickly releases me, “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even realize—”

“No, I like it.”

“Oh.”

This time, I’m the one snaking my hands up his arms and settling them behind his neck. “Bucky, I still really like you.”

He sighs in relief and brings one hand up behind my head, the other gently stroking my cheek. I wouldn’t have been able to hear his next few words if he hadn’t leaned down until our foreheads touched. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop liking you.”

“Even when I accidentally insult your traumatic past?”

I can feel the smirk growing on his face just before his lips meet mine.

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #mcu #marvel #avengers

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oh-puffle-cakes19 · 2 years

Text

Under the Waves

Pairing - Peter Parker x Mermaid Reader

Summary - You are a mermaid trying to fit into a normal life, bumping into Peter and having to go to a new school is tough but you make it through.

Warnings - none other than slight swearing

A/N - This was requested by @oyasumimosura hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think, Thank you for all your love and Support to my blog. I really appreciate all your interactions 🥰

Word count - 1K+

Life is an open book, an particular fairy tale might become across as fake to most people. However, there is always truth behind them even, if it’s only a little bit of pixie dust over the Horizon.

To show our true colours and have meaning in life is a living, walking dream. To some people, they don’t take any notice of these kind of adventures. And to others, they live by the fantasy of becoming more than what humans call Mermaids.

You being a normal, teenage girl living, enjoying life with friends. Even thou, there is school and hard work to be achieved at such a young age. You felt something missing, a connection that was beyond out of the human’s eyes reach to see.

Landing yourself on an island that your necklace with a blue, glowing crystal is sending you. Your confused as what you might come across, being you trust your necklace. It has some strange powers, being able to protect you from danger.

Walking across the sand you come to a jungle, down a little slide way to a cave. There you slide down, ending up to a pool of calm water. You had an urge to dip your whole body in, as you did moonlight rises over you.

you look up to the moon shining above your head, looking around to see bubbles starting to pop. You appear to turn into something much more, magical than magic.

“Oh my god, this is awesome but frightening,” you gasped, as everything around you is now silent. Your necklace now stops glowing, your now wondering how to go back out.

Since that day you are a mermaid but not your typical one. You touch water to become the beautiful creature, when dry you turn back human. No one knows except for you, you try to live a normal life working through school and friends.

🧋

Peter Parker, an awkward, cute, clumsy boy who is making his way through life just like you with a secret.

On the busy streets of Queens he bumps into making you drop your books.

“I’m so sorry, let me help you,” Peter rushed to pick up your belongings. Quickly standing to see your mesmerising face.

“It’s honestly, fine. At lest it wasn’t water,” you joked sarcastically, “um, thanks,…”

“Peter, Peter Parker,” Peter smiles, handing back your books.

“Thanks, Peter. I’m Y/N,” You smile back at his adorable thin lips.

“I gotta go, I don’t want to be late for class um, bye Peter,” you chuckle nervously, waving.

“Bye, Y/N,” Peter waved back, walking in a total different direction.

🧋

Everyone whispering in between the hallways as they walk, Peter walks up to his friends Ned and Mj.

“Hey, guys. What is everyone talking about?” Peter questioned as he put his books into his locker.

“Haven’t you heard?” Ned shocked, “There is a new girl, just started,”

“What really? Wow,” Peter gulps, wondering at who this new girl is.

“Yh, heard that she pretty cool and collected,” Mj nods, “it would be nice if she joined,”

Ned and Peter looked at this each other, “wait, wait,” they turn around to her.

“Your telling me, miss anti-social actually,” Peter starts, “Wants to get to know someone,” Ned finishes astonished.

“No that’s totally not what I said,” Mj shakes her head, sometimes really need another girl to make it equal with these bone brain guys.

There is always Betty but she mostly with other people after Liz left.

“Put brain cells in your head before you come to school,” Mj bluntly mumbled, walking to class.

Peter and Ned shrugs, walking to class with her.

🧋

Peter sits down in physics, loving this lesson because he’s always into science. Hence why he goes to Mid-town high school, he got brains and skills to show off.

Just as he thought it couldn’t get any better he sees a pretty girl, not just a girl. You, he recognises from earlier. Peter starts to overthink getting lost in his mind that he didn’t even see you sit down next to him.

“Hey,” You smile, tapping on his shoulder, you tilt your head to the side.

Peter turns his head, “Oh, hey,” smiling, “so your the new girl? I bumped into you,”

“Yh, it’s a pretty cool school,” you laugh, melody to Peter’s hyper sensed ears. “Do not stress, your too adorable. Anyway wanna be friends Pretty boy,” you smile, feeling confident infront of him.

You made Peter flustered, pretty oblivious at your actions. Just trying to be friendly to the cute boy, who you won’t admit liking.

“Yes,” Peter smiled back as the class starts.

The class boring to others as usual but Peter found it interesting, he made his web fluid in this class along side chemistry.

At the end of the class, you and Peter get paired up for the Home work. Your excited just as Peter to spend even more time together, even though only knowing each other just a few hours.

🧋

After some other classes, it’s finally lunch. Walking up to the cafe, you wasn’t really sure where to sit but Peter waved at you to come closer.

“Hi,” you sit down smiling, “it’s nice to meet you, I’m guessing your Peters friends. I’m Y/N,”

“Hey, this is Ned and Mj,” Peter speaks, getting cut off.

“Oh hey,” Ned smiles, bumping Mj’s arms to get her to look up.

“Hi, sorry I was staring into my soul.” Mj looks blankly at you.

“That’s ok, I guess you like the black Dalion like the murder?” You chuckle, Peter takes a bite of his sandwich.

“Yh, uh how do you know?” Mj looking at you intrigued, Ned shrugging at Peter.

“I can tell by your face, it’s not hard to know,” you laugh, “You like observing people, I’m the same,”

Turning back to Peter, you eat your food. Mj just nodding, kinda smiling at how she likes you.

You and Peter start chatting along with Mj and Ned. You become really good friends over the past few weeks at school.

🧋

“Oh, hey,” Peter looks up from his locker door, he getting his books into his bag.

“What are you doing tonight?” You nervously, question fiddling with your jumper.

“I am,” Peter thinks, closing the lock door with him looking into your eyes. He has lost all his words, seeing your beauty makes his mind go blank.

“Hello, Peter. Are you there?” You wave your hand in front of his face, giving a really confused look at why he all of sudden started to day dream.

“Oh, yes, um.” Peter looks around, tiptoeing up and down on his feet. He holding his bag with one hand tightly, over his shoulder.

“What are you doing tonight? I asked,” You say, licking your lips.

“Yh, Im studying. Do you want to join?” Peter blushes, smiling at you.

“Yh, I’m down for that, I need to study physics,” You see Mj and Ned walk up, “I’ll catch you later, I’m going to go to class.”

You wave, Peter nods saying, “Bye,” as you rush down the hall still nervous to talk to people.

Peter closes his locked, putting his head against it closing his eyes. Frustrated at his feelings for you are all over the place, it’s a huge mess.

“Hey, what stick went up your ass,” Mj tight smiles at Peter, dripping with sarcasm, “But honestly, what’s wrong?”

“You haven’t been yourself lately, Man. We just want check up on you before class,” Ned explained tapping on his should.

Peter turns around, seeing Ned and Mj.

“I’m good guys, nothing to worry about. I’m gonna go to Spanish?” Peter walks backwards pointing his thumb behind him, doing an awkward run to the door.

“But, we don’t have Spanish on Tue…” Ned sighs, “And he is gone,”

“No, shit. I don’t see him anywhere,” Mj turning around to look all directions, “We should head to class,” she walks, Ned following her.

🧋

Peter rushes out of class to go home, all he thinking about is you. Studying with you, maybe even more..

You and Peter only been friends for around 6 months but it feels longer than that.

He might even ask you to come for a movie night sometime, that would be cool.

“Oh Honey, Peter,” May heard his bedroom close, deciding to ask when he comes out.

Peter changes into some joggers and a hoodie, “what do you want for dinner,” May asked, curiously.

“Uh, I don’t know and um you know my friend, Y/N right?” Peter told May,

“Oh, yes that sweet girl, who you think is cute,” She smiles, going into the kitchen.

“Well, she is coming over,” Peter goes into the kitchen, smiling.

“That’s lovely dear, would she like to stay for dinner?” May starts to take out pots and pans.

“I would of thought, so?” Peter rushes to the door as he heard a knock.

“Hi, would you want to stop for dinner?” Peter grinned, as you walk inside.

“Hi sure,” You greet May then go to his room placing your bag down, Peter’s room has a bunk bed with a single at the top and a double underneath.

Peter and you settle down in his room, having lots of notes spread out to study.

“I really suck at physics,” you pout as Peter explained it again, “I still don’t get it,” You laugh.

“You will,” Peter reassured you, taking your hand rubbing it. You feel sparks fly up your arm, you smile at the contact.

There is a cup of water right near you, you being oblivious of your secret right now because all your attention is on Peter.

Peter leans over to grab it but shortly spills it on you, you gasp, panicking having no where to run because the bathroom is outside.

You really want to get up but there wouldn’t be any point, it could be worse. May could see what you really are. It’s Peter, how bad can it be?

“Oh my god, Peter,” You gasp again, flapping your arms out mouth wide open.

“I’m so sorry, Are you ok?” Peter asks, “Your ok, love. It’s only a bit of water.” He reassures you softly stroking your head, giving you sympathy eyes.

“It’s not that,” You gulp, dreading thoughts as you transform into a floppy mermaid. Your eyes widen, as Peter try’s to take it all in.

Peter runs to the door to lock it, he breathing heavy with you freaking out a bit.

“What?” Peter flaps his arms, “How is this even possible?” His eyes widen as he whispers to you.

“Are you even real?” He waves his arms out to you, he sits next to you try to calm down.

“Peter, it’s ok. Try to breath sweetheart,” You shift your tail, taking his hand and stroking his strands just as he did you.

Peter looks up into your gorgeous eyes, his breathing going back to calm in and out breaths. He thinks about his secret, how you must feel the same way. Having no one know is really hard!

Peter closes his eyes as he leans into your chest with only a shell bra on. He wraps his strong, tone arms around your waist because you give him so much comfort and Warmth.

Your shocked at how he only freaked out a little bit, didn’t even run out of the door. Peter instead came closer to you, better yet cuddling into you.

“Are you ok? Now Petey,” You whisper, gently stroking his forehead.

“Mm,” he nods, “Are you?”

“Yes,” You kiss his forehead, feeling blessed.

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me and you can do that again,” Peter smiles, looking up with a dazed face.

You now transformed back to human because your dry, no water on you.

“Peter Parker your something different,” you laugh stating, kissing his forehead again. He smiles at your loving gesture.

“Maybe because I am,” He whispers, teasing you right into your ear. Knowing full well he is definitely a different breed, now because of that radioactive spider.

“Show me,” You tease back, Curious at what Peter could be hiding.

“Do you really want to know,” Peter smirks, teasing back again.

“Oh, my Peter! I’m a fucking mermaid, what could you possibly be that is worse?” You hushed him, shaking your head laughing.

“But honestly, please show me,” You say bringing him back down with you. Looking him into his eyes, seeing his warm, brown eyes melt into yours was a blessing.

You take your chances and kiss him right on the lips as he kind of lays on top of you. Peter is taken back by the kiss but quickly deepens it, pulling you up to sit with him.

You pull apart breathless, blinking still gazed at your actions towards one another.

“I, I like you, Y/N and, and if you don’t like me that’s fine..” Peter rambled on, only you cutting him off again with a another kiss to shut him up.

“Pete, please stop stressing, you too blessed! And I do like you back, otherwise I wouldn’t of kissed you first sweetheart,” You breathed out, having your arms around his neck.

Peter’s arms slip around your waist, through this intense moment you both break a smile. Softening up the moment, You kiss passionately as both of your hands are all over the other.

Only stopping your make out session with

“Dinner, Peter and Y/N,” May half shouts since thin walls and all.

You look up blushing, Peter pulling you up kissing your cheek.

“Do You want to be my girlfriend?” Peter sweetly, asked biting his lip.

“Yes, boyfriend,” You kisses his cheek as you walk out the door to dinner.

“Ok, girlfriend,” Peter whispers more to himself, following you.

Peter’s secret long forgotten through out the chaos but not for long. Not that Peter didn’t want to tell you, especially since he was the reason you revealed yours.

Peter loves you just the way you are, Mermaid or not! He will be Supporting and protecting you every step of the way.

🧋

Bonus scene… You finding out Peter’s Secret after dinner.

Being 9pm and you had to be back by 10:30 at the latest, you had about an hour to spend more with Peter.

You still haven’t forgot about earlier, before dinner when Peter said something about his own secret.

You rush into his room to hide under his covers, giggling as you feel his arms tickling you.

“Stop,” you laugh, turning, “I can’t take it.”

Peter stops, to climb in with you until..

“Wait, Pete,” You say, standing up taking his hand looking directly at him in his eyes.

“Yes, Darling,” You blush at the pet name, Peter taking your hand into his, “what is it?”

“Um, what is your secret?” You smile, curious.

“My secret,” Peter scratched the back of neck, looking the other way.

You must admit it is embarrassing showing someone something to someone, even if they are close.

“Hey, it’s ok. You don’t even have to show or tell me. I’m not going to pressure you, just because my secret accidentally came out, ok?” You Comfort him, rubbing his hands.

“No, no it’s ok. I want you to know Darling, it’s not just because I know your secret but it is only fair! I want you to know because it is apart of me like yours,” Peter smiles, hugging you.

You smile feeling his body heat engulf you, brining butterflies up to your tummy. If feels like your flying into the sky, it is such a truly amazing feeling to feel inside you.

“Ok, I’m ready. Just try not to freak out,” Peter nervously, gives you a grin.

You nod understanding he has compassion and confidence in himself, which is good!

“I’m spider-man,” Peter whispers, breathing out slowly as you hear.

“Oh ok,” your eyes widen, “That is great,” you smile, proud of him.

“I can do many cool tricks too, I’ll show you,” He sticks to the ceiling, crawling along it.

“Woah, that is Fabulous,” You giggle, “That isn’t all, sweet pea,” Peter winks at you.

“I can shoot webs from this web fluid that I made in class, these web shooters I have on my wrist projects it,” Peter shows you the movement as a web sticks to the wall.

“Um,” Peter thinking, “Oh also I have this cool sixth sense, it’s called spidery sense I can sense danger, emotions that are high,” Peter explains trying to be clear.

“So a Peter tingle?” You laugh, Peter groans.

“What?” You ask curiously, petting his head.

“Nothing, just that my aunt May calls it that too!” Peter chuckles, “I sometime love it but then don’t,”

“Oh, your aunt knows?”

“Yh, um Ned knows too! He’s a guy in the chair, which is cool. Mj knows because things lead to one another and she kinda figured it out,” Peter awkwardly, smiled at that memory.

“Makes sense, you guys are really close friends.” You smile back.

“I have my senses hyped up, for example my hearing. I can hear further away, my smell stronger. You get the thing of it,”

“Well, thank you for telling me,” You smile pulling him for another hug.

“Your welcome, I guess our secrets both came out together.” Peter chuckles, “Yes,” you say.

You can tell him more about yourself being a mermaid with your power and special necklace next time.

Instead of telling, you decide to leave that for another adventurous day. Adoring each other as You and Peter cuddle a whole lot more into each other’s embrace.

Everything comes out from the under the waves eventually, from Secrets to feelings to even more secrets!!!

Peter ends up swinging you home like a good boyfriend because it’s far too late for you to walk.

Tucked under your bed, Peter doing the same as he gets home. You both think of the other as you drift off to sleep, peacefully.

Until it’s dreading another day of school, when you wake up!

#peter parker imagine #tom peter parker #peter parker fluff #secrets revealed #spider man #tom holland #tom holland fandom #tomhollandfan #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #lovers #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #mermaidreader

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intoafandom · 2 years

Text

Why I Loathe Liz Allen

*no hate towards the actress!!! I just hate the character*

Ok I just want to start off by saying fuck this bitch ugh i hate her so much (and its not just because i might be slightly jealous that hoco peter had a crush on her lol....😐) Honestly she makes my fucking blood BOIL.

Ok lets start.

1) Liz was never actually planning on inviting Peter to her party.

Right from the jump we’re gunna talk about THIS scene. Now it’s obvious that no one believes Peter knows Spider-Man and Flash is clearly throwing jabs at him in this scene. And he goes “you should invite [spider man] to liz’s party tonight.” And Peter goes “you’re having a party?” Peter clearly didn’t know about it. Which means Liz never actually PLANNED on inviting him. She only did it because flash mentioned it right beforehand. And then she follows it up with that bitchy ass attitude “Peter’s waaaay to busy for party’s anyway so” Liz actually fuck off.

2) Continuing from point one, Liz enables bullying.

After Peter shows up at the party and “disappears” soon after, Flash does this:

He gets the whole party to start bullying Peter. And remember, this is LIZ’S PARTY. At LIZ’S HOUSE. And she freaking does nothing to stop this. She just lets her entire party bully a kid who obviously has a crush on her (she literally tells him she knows later in the damn movie) (Also that scene when her dad is driving them to homecoming and she goes “you were at my party but you disappeared like you always do” I wanted to punt her outta the car, and if i was peter i would’ve been like “yeah bitch i left your party because you let everyone bully me the fuck?”

3) She led him on

First of all, she only said yes to going to hoco with him because she had no one else to go with. She literally says that she was so busy planning it that she never got around to asking anyone to go with her. Peter is literally the only guy left and pretty, popular, perfect liz allen would never actually stoop as low as peter parker if she had the chance to go with someone else. She clearly doesn’t like or care about him at all (see points 1 and 2 again). And look

When her dad says he’s going to give peter “the dad talk,” she’s like okay bye and she gets out of the car and says hi to her friends (pic 1 ). But then bitch doesn’t even wait for Peter, she just goes inside and immediately starts dancing with her friends (pic 2). That conversation between peter and her dad took literally like one minute and she easily could’ve waited for him. Just another piece of evidence that shows she doesn’t actually like him. Because seriously, no one actually enters a party without their date unless you don’t actually wanna be there with them. Also, not to mention all those ✨looks✨ she gives him throughout the movie. Like seriously, she’s a senior and he’s a cute little sophomore with a cute little crush. He’s 15 and she’s 17/18. Ik the age difference isn’t very drastic but in high school it certainly is. Plus there’s the whole hierarchy between classes. Most seniors would never actually date a sophomore. Point is, Liz knew Peter had a massive crush on her and she totally led him on and was clearly never actually interested in him.

4) She’s constantly giving him attitude.

Literally throughout the whole movie she’s just rude for no reason. Take this scene for instance:

Peter LITERALLY just got a question right and his phone rings. He asks if he can take the phone call and bitch look at the face she gives him. “Yeah, fine.” Bitch that was the most passive aggressive “yes” ive ever heard in my life. Enough with the attitude he literally asked first (and he didn’t even have to). There’s so many moments like this and they’re super easy to notice when you know what to look for.

5) Just like point 1, she also wasn’t planning on inviting peter (or ned) to the team’s “night time swim.”

Yall, just look.

The ENTIRE team is already in their swimsuits AND they have towels. Plus, liz literally says they all already raided the minibar or whatever to get candy and stuff. They were literally all ready to go to the pool except peter and ned. The only reason Peter even knew about it was because he left his hotel room at the exact same time liz was passing his door.

Literally even mj is there on the side reading her book. Everyone was already ready to go to the pool except peter and ned. And ned STILL isn’t there cuz liz never actually told him either. Like I said, the only reason peter knew in the first place was because he left his room at the same time.

6) THIS SHIT

“He’s a liar” BITCH ARE YOU ACTUALLY SERIOUS. YOURE GUNNA SAY THAT SHIT JUST TO GET YOUR FIVE SECONDS OF FAME. SCREW YOU BITCH!! Like omfffffg. Like I get you’re probably still upset that he got your dad put in prison, but he was literally a criminal so idk what to tell you. Plus, PETER LITERALLY SAVED YOUR LIFE AND YOUR DAD’S!! So piss off with that “he’s a liar” bullshit. You KNOW he just wanted to keep people safe. I’ll never get over this shit lol he should’ve let her drop in that elevator shaft like my girl gwen stacy

Anyways FUCK liz allen dumbass bitch

*again no hate to the actress!*

Feel free to add on cuz I would loveeee to hate her even more.

#peter parker #spider man #spider man homecoming #tom holland #liz allen #spider man no way home #laura harrier #michelle jones #ned leeds #jacob batalon #zendaya #flash thompson #anti liz allen

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waitimcomingtoo · 3 years

Text

Peppermint

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: when you wear peppermint chapstick, you discover Peter hates peppermint

Masterlist

It started as an ordinary day.

You saw Peter and Ned in the dining hall between classes and went to join them like you normally did.

“Hi.” Peter smiled up at you from his seat when he saw you approaching.

“Hi, Petey.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders before moving to kiss him. He craned his neck to kiss you back but pulled away sooner than usually.

It only went downhill from there.

You looked at him curiously and sat down, wondering why he stopped kissing you so fast.

“Oh.” He grimaced as he puckered his lips.

“What?” You looked between him and Ned, hoping someone had answers.

“You’ve made a bold choice today.” Peter nodded as he wiped his mouth off on the back of his hand.

“What?” You laughed in surprised.

“A lot of bold flavors going on.” He continued, taking out a napkin to wipe his mouth.

“What is he talking about?” You asked Ned when Peter gave you no answers.

“Oh, I see.” Ned realized. “Is your chapstick spearmint?”

“No, I think it’s-“

“Peppermint.” Peter cut you off with a sour face. “It’s peppermint.”

“Am I missing something?” Your eyes shifted between the boys, still extremely confused.

“Peter hates peppermint.” Ned told you.

“You do?” You laughed and looked at your boyfriend. “Why?”

“It’s so gross. Oh my God, it’s still on me.” Peter gagged as he wiped his lips again.

“What is your problem?” You raised an eyebrow at his odd behavior. “You don’t want to be minty fresh?”

“Thats not minty fresh. That’s disgusting.” He shook his head and rubbed his face. “Ew, my hands smell like it now.”

“How did I not know you hate peppermint?” You sat back in your chair as you wondered out loud. “Is this why you threw up my my gingerbread house party last year?”

“Yes.” Peter answered. “And I guess I never told you because I assumed you would know I hate the most putrid smell on earth.”

“Peppermint is not putrid.” You laughed again, still not taking this seriously. “It’s sweet and minty.”

“No.” Peter shook his head repeatedly. “Evil spawn.”

“No, not evil spawn.” You insisted. “It’s a nice scent.”

“Princess, you know I hate to disagree with you, but I’m pretty sure Satan keeps a an diffuser with peppermint essential oil on at all times in hell.” Peter told you as he squeezed your hand.

“Now you’re just being dramatic.” You teased. “It’s just chapstick.”

You leaned in to kiss him again and he put his hand on your face to push you away.

“No. I can’t.” He gagged. “It’s too gross.”

You stared at him with a dropped jaw, not believing he just pushed you away. You realized that this wasn’t a joke to him and he actually hated peppermint.

“Fine.” You shrugged. “Then I just won’t kiss you today.”

Peter said nothing to this and instead nodded, as if he agreed. You raised an eyebrow, expecting him to object like he usually did if you said you weren’t going to kiss him. Peter was a very affection person, so you often teased him by threatening to withhold affection. You looked at Ned to see if he was seeing what you were seeing, and Ned looked scared.

“Oh No.” He gulped. “This isn’t good.”

“Peter!” You softly hit his arm, making him jump.

“What?” He asked.

“You’re supposed to protest!” You told him. “I’m your girlfriend and I just told you I’m not gonna kiss you.”

“And I’m being a good boyfriend and supporting your idea.” He smiled sweetly at you and rubbed your back. You scoffed and looked at Ned for help, but he offered none.

“School is the only place we can kiss each other anytime we want.” You reminded him. “You know Avengers are still banned from dating at the tower. Are you seriously not going to kiss me because of my chapstick?”

“It’s not because of your chapstick.” Peter told you. “It’s because of the scent of your chapstick.”

“Are you sure this is how you want to play this?” You asked Peter, giving him a chance to change his mind.

“Um…yes?” He said weakly, now worried about your sudden mood change.

“Fine.” You shrugged and stood up. “Then I’ll see you at the tower.”

“You’re not eating with us?” He asked, giving you puppy dog eyes.

“No.” You gave him a tight smile. “Clearly and me and my lips are not welcome here.”

You turned on your heel and walked away, leaving Peter and Ned alone.

“Bye!” Peter called after you. “I love you!”

“That went well for you.” Ned chuckled once you were out of sight.

“You don’t think she’s actually mad at me, is she?” Peter wondered.

“No.” MJ said, making Peter and Ned jump. “She’s not mad at you. She’s upset that you didn’t want to kiss her.”

“How long have you been listening?” Ned asked as he looked up at her.

“Since Ned said Senora Chavez had a nice ass.” MJ stated as she sat down next to Ned. “Listen, I know Y/n better than anyone-“

“Uh, I disagree.” Peter cut in. “Hi, Y/n’s boyfriends, nice to meet you.”

“Cute.” MJ deadpanned. “Best friend trumps boyfriend. Everyone knows that.”

“That’s not true.” Peter snorted. “Is it?”

“No.” Ned answered. “But I also don’t know.”

“What I’m trying to say is, you won’t win this.” MJ continued. “You have to get over your little peppermint tantrum or she won’t kiss you. Simple as that.”

“She can kiss me as long as she’s not wearing peppermint chapstick.” Peter shrugged, not seeing anything wrong with what had happened.

“She’s not gonna stop wearing peppermint chapstick, dummy.” MJ flicked him on the side of the head. “You just started a fight.”

“What? That wasn’t a fight.” Peter insisted.

“It’s a silent fight.” MJ explained. “She’s not gonna say anything about it and wait for you to apologize. If you don’t, then it becomes a real fight.”

“Apologize for what? For hating the worst smell in the world?” Peter scoffed.

“For being a diva and calling her gross.” MJ said like it was obvious.

“I didn’t call her gross.” Peter corrected. “I called her choices gross.”

“And that’s where you fucked up.” MJ made a face. “It’s fine if you don’t want my help, but you’re gonna lose your girlfriend over it.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Peter laughed in dismissal. “I am not going to lose Y/n over something as meaningless as peppermint chapstick.”

“See for yourself.” MJ shrugged and got up. “Later losers.”

Peter sat in silence for a moment as he thought about what MJ had said. You did seem upset when you left, so MJ might be right.

“You don’t think…” Peter began, and Ned knew where it was going.

“No.” Ned assured him. “But also I don’t know.”

“I’m sure we’re fine.” Peter said to convince himself. “It’s just chapstick.”

“Yeah.” Ned agreed. “Unless it’s not.”

“Yeah.” Peter worried. “Unless it’s not.”

Peter couldn’t keep the interaction off his mind all day. He could barely focus in the lab later that day when Tony had to take of you writing down chemical reactions he needed in a future experiment. If you were mad, you didn’t let on. But you also didn’t give Peter the impression that everything was fine. After ten minutes of writing in silence, he poked you with his pen.

“Psst.” He whispered.

“What?” You whispered back.

“You look pretty today.” Peter smiled softly at you.

“Oh yeah?” You tilted your head. “Then kiss me.”

Peter’s face fell, cheeky smile long gone.

“I can’t.” He whispered again.

“And why’s that?” You stopped writing to give him your full attention. Peter looked up as he thought of a good enough lie to tell you.

“I’m waiting for marriage.” He answered finally, making you nod your head.

“Were you waiting for marriage when we had sex last week?” You kept your tone neutral.

“I temporarily stopped waiting and I have now resumed.” He corrected himself.

“You’re an imbecile.” You spoke at full volume now, earning a glance from Tony.

“I hate peppermint!” Peter whined. “It’s gross!”

“Dumb and Dumber.” Tony called to you. “Is everything okay over there?”

“Yes, sir.” Peter calmed down. “Sorry, sir.”

“You’re gonna be sorry.” You laughed humorlessly as you started writing again.

“Princess.” Peter softened his voice and stroked your hair. “Just take it off and we can go back to normal.”

“I don’t want to take it off.” You shrugged. “In fact, I think I need some more.”

“Don’t.” Peter deadpanned as you reached into your pocket and took out your chapstick. You smiled sweetly at him before generously lathering the chapstick on your lips.

“Ew!” Peter began to dry heave and got out of his chair. “I’m gonna barf.”

“All right. That’s enough.” Tony sighed and stopped working. “Peter, hit the showers or something. I need you out of here.”

“Gladly.” Peter said as he glared at you.

“Gladly?” You raised an eyebrow. “And you said I was bold?”

“Y/n. You too. Out now.” Tony commanded so you gathered your things. You started putting on chapstick again, maintaining eye contact with Peter as you did it. He gagged before clutched your stomach while pinching his nose. You blew him a minty kiss before walking out of the lab with Peter following behind you.

“Are you happy now? Are you pleased as punch, Parker?” You spat as he continued walking. “Mr. Stark probably thinks we’re crazy now. Or even better, he’s gonna figure out that we’re together.”

Peter ignored you and kept walking, not wanting to talk when he was angry.

“You know what?” You continued. “He’s probably right. Since only crazy people would hate the luscious, beautiful smell of peppermint.”

Peter suddenly turned around and grabbed you, rubbing his hands over your lips to wipe off the chapstick.

“How dare you?” You gasped. “You ghoul!”

“You’re the ghoul!” He shouted back. “Peppermint is a sin!”

Steve and Nat, who were sitting in the living room and watching this unfold, exchanged a look.

“It is not!” You shouted. “You’re just being dramatic!”

“I can’t help it.” He shrugged. “This calls for drama. I hate it so much.”

“How much?” You asked as you slathered it on again. “How much do you hate it?”

“Please.” He covered his mouth and gagged. “I’m gonna be sick.”

“You need to get over this. It’s just a flavor.” You insisted.

“Demon flavor.” He shot back, hunched over with his hands in his knees and coughing.

“This is super weird, right?” Steve whispered to Nat.

“Yeah.” She nodded as she watched the scene in front of her with a disgusted look. “I think we should go.”

You watched Steve and Nat leave the room, feeling embarrassed with the strange looks they gave you. No one actually knew you and Peter were together, so you could only imagine what they were thinking. You looked back at Peter and saw that he was still gagging, bringing you to a decision.

“Fine, Peter.” You sighed and rubbed your mouth on the back of your hand. “I wiped it off. Are you okay?”

You crouched beside him and rubbed his back, worried he was actually going to puke. He slowly stood up and blew out a breath before nodding.

“Yeah. I’m sorry.” He frowned at you. “I didn’t mean to raise my voice at you.”

“I’m sorry too.” You said as you rubbed his shoulders. “We shouldn’t be yelling at each other in the hallway. Someone’s either gonna realize we’re dating or think we’re unstable.”

“Yeah. We do look a bit ridiculous.” He laughed shyly as he looked around.

“Yeah.” You chuckled as wrapped your arms around his neck. “And I’m sorry about the chapstick. I didn’t know you didn’t like it.”

“It’s my fault.” He insisted. “I should have told you. And I definitely shouldn’t have gotten that upset.”

“Maybe not.” You agreed. “But I should not have taunted you after I knew you hated it. That was mean.”

“Just a little.” He pinched his fingers together. “Are we okay now?”

“We’re okay. I love you, Petey.” You rubbed your thumb over his cheek, happy to have resolved it.

“I love you too, princess.” He smiled before leaning in to kiss you. Before your lips could touch, he sharply pulled away.

“Oh no.” He said gravely.

“What?”

“I smell it.” He squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to freak out.

“It?” You wondered.

“Your chapstick.” He admitted, making your groan. “I can smell it from here.”

“I wiped it off.” You whined, pulling your arms away from him.

“The smell.” He gagged. “It lingered. I cant kiss you. I’m sorry.”

“Are you serious?” You out your hands on your hips and stared at him.

“Yes.” He answered. “I’m sorry. Can we make up but not kiss?”

“You’re not gonna kiss me because of a lingering smell of peppermint?” You said as more than a statement than a question.

“This is true, yes.” Peter nodded.

“Then I’ll see you later, Parker.” You shook your head and walked away from him. Peter sighed sadly as he watched you walk away, knowing that wasn’t how he wanted to end things.

“What was that about?” Sam asked as he wandered into the hallway. He overhead the fight from the kitchen and arrived in time to watch you leaving.

“Um.” Peter thought of a way to explain what just happened. “We had a little fight.”

“About what?” He pressed.

“Y/n is wearing peppermint chapstick today.” Peter answered honestly.

“And that concerns you because…?” Sam questioned.

“I don’t like the scent of peppermint.” Peter scoffed. “Does that make me a monster?”

“So what?” Sam snorted. “It’s not like you’re kissing her.”

Peter turned his face to the side so Sam wouldn’t see his inability to keep a secret.

“Hm.” Peter nodded stiffly. “Yes. It is not like I am kissing her. That was be absurd.”

“Right.” Sam said skeptically. “Because Avengers aren’t allowed to date each other. You know that, right?”

“I know.” Peter nodded too many times. “We’re not dating. I just hate peppermint.”

“For arguments sake, let’s say you were dating.” Sam began. “Because everyone knows that you are but no one cares enough to report you.”

“What?” Peter forced a laugh. “That’s ridiculous. We’re not dating.”

“Yeah. And I’m white.” Sam humored him. “If you were dating and fighting over the flavor of her chapstick, I’d give you one piece of advice.”

“What’s that?” Peter asked.

“Get over it and go kiss your girlfriend.” Sam sighed. “It’s just a flavor, but she’s not just a girl. Don’t risk a good thing over a bad scent.”

“Wow.” Peter soaked it in. “That’s pretty good advice. Thanks Sam. I always thought you didn’t like me.”

“I don’t.” Sam told him. “But I like Y/n. And I don’t want to live in this tower while you two are going through a messy breakup. So make up or shut up. Your choice.”

“Okay.” Peter nodded confidently. “I know what I have to do.”

Peter went back to his room and began to brainstorm ways to make it up to you. Before he could put his plans into motion, he heard a knock at his door.

“Come in”. He called from his bed.

“Hey, Petey.” You spoke timidly as you opened his door. You weren’t sure if he was mad at you or not, and he was wondering the same thing about you.

“Hey, princess.” Peter smiled softly. “It’s nice to see you. I’m glad you came to see me.”

“I missed you.” You smiled back as you sat on his bed. “Whatcha doing?”

“Just taking my daily vitamins.” Peter said as he laid his gummies out. You furrowed your eyebrows and moved his hand to see what his vitamins looked like.

“These are fruit snacks.” You told him as you held up a bright orange gummy.

“I’m so fragile right now.” Peter whispered before downing his fruit snacks in one go. You chuckled a little at your boyfriends antics and scooted closer to him.

“Talk to me about it.” You said as you rubbed his arm.

“I feel as though our relationship is not in mint condition.” Peter said without looking up at you. You caught on to his pun and let out a groan.

“Peter.”

“I’m sorry.” He smiled weakly. “You look beautiful.”

“What are you doing?” You asked skeptically.

“Giving you a compli-mint.” He fed you another pun.

“You don’t have to do this.” You assured him. “I caved. I’m wearing cherry chapstick.”

“You are?” His eyes lit up.

“Yeah. I threw the other one out.” You shrugged. “I don’t even like the smell of it. It was just the first one I grabbed this morning.”

“You don’t like the smell either?”

“It’s a little harsh on my nose.” You scrunched your nose. “Plus, it burns my lips.”

“You know what this means, don’t you?” Peter smiled wickedly.

“What does this mean?” You laughed.

“We are mint to be.” He said with a cheeky smile.

“Stop.” You whined. “The fight is over. No more puns.”

“Okay, I’ll stop.” He held up his hands. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. And I’m sorry I wouldn’t kiss you all day.”

“I’m sorry I yelled too.” You frowned and cupped his chin. “You can make up for it by kissing me now.”

Peter nodded happily and leaned in to kiss you, giving you a real kiss this time. He pulled away and kept his lips puckered, realizing he was tricked.

“You’re wearing peppermint chapstick.” He said matter of factly.

“Yep.” You smiled. “And you didn’t die, vomit, or burst into flames.”

“Hm.” Peter realized you were right. “It stings my lips a little. I kinda like it.”

“See? It’s not that bad.”

“Oh, it’s bad.” Peter corrected. “It’s just not as bad as I thought. Maybe I was a little too dramatic.”

“Maybe?” You teased.

“Fine.” Peter agreed. “But you knew I was dramatic before you started dating me. If anything, this is all your fault.”

“Why don’t we blame this on the entire concept of peppermint of call it a night?” You suggested and you laid down on his bed. Peter laid down beside you and wrapped his arm around you, still rubbing his lips together.

“You know what, princess? That sounds like a great idea.”

Tag List 🏷

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